The Lights In The Dark

by Raydara12

All it took was one misunderstanding to ruin everything. Fic written by Raydara12 (BBWoulf) and Sparkyfan1

3. The Right Choice

A/N: This chapter was a bitch to right. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 3: The Right Choice

It was shortly after daybreak by the time Trygve began to wake.

He gave a grunt as he moved along the length of his bed; a couple of creaks echoing within the wood framing from his weight. Tossing to his side, he could begin to feel the approaching trench forming within the pile of hay beneath the bottom fur. Guess that came with being a fairly large man. Perhaps it was time that he replaced the hay anyway for better comfort.

Rolling around to his other side, Trygve stretched out his arm to only come in contact with an empty space. Opening his eyes, he found his wife missing from her end of the bed; his hand resting above the furs where she would have been located.

Huffing and giving a grunt, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. The fur blankets slipped down into a pile in his lap. Pushing the fur aside, Trygve slid to the edge of the bed until his feet rested against the wooden floor. Giving a stretch, he lowered his hands against the bottom section of his back until he heard a few pops. Feeling the stiffness prompted further desire to gather fresh hay.

It amazed him how much the idea of hay added comfort for sleeping compared to simply laying on the flat, hard surface of the wooden bed frame. He wasn't surprised that the idea came from Hiccup, he knew the boy had some ingenious ideas. Trygve remembers smiling in pride at the first nights of full sleep he and Hilda had after Hiccup suggested the idea, the two of them heading to the storage supplies to gather hay. After experiencing that Valhalla experience of sleep, he had set to add hay to the other beds.

A warrior needed proper rest to fight and if this allowed all the members of the Hofferson home to remain skilled and in fighting order, then he'd continue to follow Hiccup's advice.

Now that he thought about it, he'll have to check in with the kids to see if the beds need a replacement with the hay as well.

Settling into his boots, Trygve stood and walked to his cabinet to retrieve a shirt. Tossing on a fresh tunic, the viking exited his bedroom and walked down the hallway towards his two children's bedrooms.

Opening the first door quietly, the father poked his head inside to see his daughter, Heather. Snuggled deep under her fur blanket and peacefully sleeping, he gave a fond smile to the slumbering form. Finding her safe, he quietly shut the door and continued on towards the next bedroom.

Pushing the third door open softly, Trygve poked his head in and sighed in relief at the sight before him. A warm smile took place as he took in the sight of Astrid and Hiccup snuggled side by side. The young heir's arm curled around his daughter's waist protectively. A wave of pride took hold of him again as he gazed at the young couple; proud of the devoted man that Hiccup has shown to be.

Furthermore, Trygve was relieved knowing that Hiccup was still home and getting a well-deserved rest. He was expecting the young man to be gone and at the blacksmith shop working.

Though after the aftermath from the dragon raid, the father was glad to know the boy was here safe and protected. It's still unsure how villagers will respond after last night's event from Stoick's words, but for now he'll refrain from worrying knowing Hiccup was under the roof with Astrid and his family.

Taking one more glance at his children, Trygve closed the door quietly and made his way downstairs where he found his wife in the kitchen. Not surprised when the kitchen was her comfort zone.

Stepping up behind her, he placed a tender kiss against his wife's temple, the bristles of thick copper orange facial hair brushing against the woman's skin.

Hilda gave a warm chuckle at her husband's affection.

"Mornin', darlin'."

"Mornin', dear," Hilda responded with a return kiss to his cheek.

She turned fully and placed a plate of breakfast in his hand and gave him a smile.

"Now, head to da table an' eat."

Trygve grabbed the plate and headed to their dinner table as his wife resumed prepping food in the kitchen.

"Phelma stopped by dis mornin' while ya were still asleep." -Trygve's head perked up in curiosity- "A council meetin' was called. Shortly here, actually."

He watched Hilda place her knife down and take a deep breath before looking over at him. Trygve could see the glint of worry in her eyes and it did not set well with him. It never hurt more than seeing his wife, one of the strongest female warriors on berk, succumb to worry or fear.

"What is it, love?" he asked, patiently waiting to hear what was on her mind.

Hilda released another breath, "Do...do ya think it's true what Hiccup said? Ya really think Stoick 'nd the others would vote Hiccup off as heir?"

Trygve fiddled with the spoon in his hand, "If I'm bein' truthfully honest, it wouldn't surprise me. Stoick has neva been da same since dat Frightmare incident. If he was willin' ta leave his own son behind from a false misunderstandin', then he would do it again."

He grabbed his half empty plate and stood from the table, placing his plate on the counter.

Pulling his wife into an embrace, he felt her sink deeper as she pressed herself tightly against him as much as she could. In comfort, the man placed a hand against the back of her blonde locks and stroked in an attempt to soothe his wife.

"I promise I won't let nothin' come to harm him. I will make da others see how great dat boy is."

Pulling away, he caressed her face in his palms and placed a kiss against her forehead.

Giving her a smile, "Things will eventually get better. Remember what I always say?"

Hilda smiled in return, "A Hofferson remains strong."

"Aye, that's my warrior."

Sharing a kiss, Trygve wished his wife a farewell and made his way to the Great Hall.

Unfortunately, Berk was quite active as villagers were about their day working or fulfilling chores. And when there were large groups, there was gossip.

Gossip that never failed to fall upon his ears when it revolved around words against Hiccup.

'Can't believe dat Haddock boy. We'd be better off if he was gone.'

'Dat boy is nothin' but trouble. 'Ave ya seen da way he behaves towards others.'

'He's not fit ta be heir.'

It took every ounce in Trygve's body to not cause a fight against the people slandering Hiccup's very being. None of those troll headed nitwits knew what they spoke of and he couldn't wait for the day when the village realizes their mistakes against the young heir. Made him wonder why his family moved to Berk to begin with all those years ago.

A mental image of his wife and two daughters flooded his head as their smiles from the years of raising his family. His shoulders slumped at the thought.

If his father hadn't moved them to Berk, he would have never met Hilda. Would have never been able to marry her and have the family was gifted to have now. And that was something he would never regret.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his way forward. Now wasn't the time to start a hostile fight with certain matters on thin ice as they were. Trygve knew he had to approach everything with a level head. Or at least try. He had a priority and that priority was to look out for Hiccup.

Escaping the crowded inner circle of Berk, he finally made it to the Great Hall. Looking up at the large stone pathway to the entrance of the Hall, the man knew it was going to be a struggle.

And a struggle it was as Trygve took on the herculean task of walking up the large stoned steps. He must have been more exhausted than he expected if walking up the stairs made him that winded. Trudging along, he peeked his eyes over towards his left at the two bodies standing up ahead and in deep conversation.

Gobber and Spitelout.

The latter glanced over in mid conversation and gave Trygve a small nod in greeting. Gobber looked over his shoulder and gave the Hofferson a smile and nod before returning his attention to Spitelout.

Trygve barely had the chance to return the nod before continuing on. Gobber was a good enough man, but from what he's heard from his daughters, he's unsure whether to consider the blacksmith an ally anymore after the recent event at the shop yesterday. Then, there was Spitelout.

As the brother-in-law to the Chief, Trygve wasn't sure how trustworthy the Jorgensen man would be. It's not that he thought anything bad of the man, but he simply didn't know what to expect of him. The Jorgensen viking was usually quiet and observing. Two qualities that could either benefit or destroy. And that right now was Hiccup's future.

Out of all the threats, Spitelout was the highest. With that son of his, Snotlout, the Jorgensen would be in line for Chiefdom with a simple vote of the majority. If that were to happen, then Berk's future was in trouble. Snotlout had no sense of manners, intelligence, and true honor. The boy was nothing but a bully with a main target for Hiccup. There was nothing more that he wanted to do than to kick the shit out of that child for how he constantly attacks Hiccup. However, Trygve knew his limits. He wouldn't benefit from anything if he bludgeoned a child.

The only thing he could do was to ensure that Snotlout wasn't voted in as heir. If they were dead set on replacing Hiccup, then he would have to ensure a better candidate. Berk could not afford their future due to a misplaced choice.

Passing through the parted door, Trygve entered the Great Hall and headed towards the back where the rounded table for their meetings was located. Walking forward, he could see two individuals already seated. Each located across from one another.

To his right, he saw Gothi, Berk's oldest elder and most notable healer of the tribe. From his time on Berk as a wee lad, Trygve would go as far and say that Gothi was the most notable healer of the entire Archipelago. Easily sought for and visited by other healers from other tribes to learn her ways and remedies. She was easily one of the most respected individuals and one rightfully deserved.

She never took yak shit from anyone and it never failed to make him laugh when he'd see her whack someone with her staff. Plus, what made Gothi valued was her unbiased opinion. She never took sides, only what evidence was brought forward and provided.

All in all, it wasn't a hard decision to keep the elder as Berk's religious observer during council meetings, other than being the eldest member of the tribe.

When Trygve glanced to his right, he softly groaned when he saw the tribe's other eldest member, Mildew. The Viking scoffed as the thought of seeing the old man brought previous anger forward. He knew there were some others that despised the old goat like him, but he doubted anyone hated the old man more than him.

Ever since the Frightmare, he blames Mildew for causing the rift between the Hiccup and the tribe. And ever since it never failed to hear the old man shower the council or Berk his true opinion on Hiccup.

Trygve wasn't sure how much more he could hear that old man talk horrible against Hiccup before he clobbered the old viking. With every wish to the gods to smite down Mildew and rid the old plague from Berk, he was probably betting even the gods aren't ready to deal with the old man, and punish Valhalla or Helium with his presence. The more he thought about it, he couldn't blame the gods.

But until the old man's death, Trygve knew Mildew was going to be one of the highest priorities of council members to vote for Hiccup's removal as heir. One he was prepared to argue with. If there was anything Trygve was going to be sure of, it was that he wasn't going to let Mildew thrive further in pride with degrading Hiccup.

Reaching the round table that was placed for the council meetings, he took his seat. Feeling more grateful that he sat on the side nearest to Gothi.

Once he sat in his assigned chair, Trygve fell forward, resting his weight against his forearms on the wooden oak table top. He gave a small, light hum as he closed his eyes; letting his mind drop from the massive internal observation he had on the way over. It was important to keep an open and clear mind at these gatherings.

"Typical," he heard a voice mumble.

Opening his eyes, Trygve looked up to find Mildew sneering at him from across the table. The viking simply raised a brow at the old man questioning.

"It's customary to greet yer elders of the tribe, yer know. Or 'ave ya forgotten yer respect."

Trygve furrowed his brows in thought, then pushed up in his seat, humming as he looked at Mildew directly.

"Aye, yer right."

Watching as Mildew gave a triumphant smug look, Trygve turned his gaze to Gothi. The healer looked at him with a smile.

"Good mornin', Gothi. It's a pleasure ta see ya," giving the elder a smile.

Gothi smirked at him knowingly, her eyes quickly peeking near Mildew's direction before returning her gaze on Trygve. She gave the man a greeting nod in return.

When he turned back, he could see Mildew sneering at him which prompted in giving the old man a simple smirk. If Mildew wanted to start games, then he was willing to play.

Hearing footsteps approaching, all three members peered over and found Silent Sven and Phelma Ingerman walk towards the table. The two approaching members give the others smiles and greetings.

"Good mornin', Sven," Trygve greeted, earning a smile and nod from the silent man.

Looking over to the only woman of the council group, "Mornin', Phelma."

Said woman gave Trygve a beaming smile as she and Sven took their assigned seats, each on Trygve's side. Trygve looked to his right to Phelma as she greeted him in return.

"Mornin', Trygve. I wasn't sure if you would get the info in time. Glad ta see ya made it."

Trygve felt grateful for Phelma. The woman always had his back and in return, him and Hilda had hers. Perhaps he could repay her kindness with some rabbit when he goes out to hunt.

"How's da family? Life treatin' ya well?" continued Phelma.

Bobbing his head in thought, there wasn't much he could complain about other than the obvious.

"Family is doin' well," started Trygve. "I feel da gods 'ave been good to us. Not much sickness has occurred 'nd income still goin' strong. Da children are out attending their duties for the day. All 'n all, life's been good."

Phelma smiled but then suddenly disappeared. He watched as she went to speak but hesitated. Trygve watched his friend's mouth open and close, waiting patiently for her to speak whatever was on her mind. It took a few more seconds before Phelma built the confidence to bring up her thoughts.

"I hope this isn't a sensitive subject, Try, but how's Hiccup doing? How's the lad been?"

The woman watched, saddened, when her friend's face became crestfallen.

"He's been good. Pretty much 'ave him livin' with us as it's da only time he seems more relaxed 'nd happiest. And he is happy when I see him with Astrid." He paused as he gathered his thoughts. "But I do worry fer him. I worry fer his safety. I don't really trust many people ta not harm my boy."

He felt Phelma lay her hand on top of his and give a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Giving him one her gentle smiles.

"Stay strong. As long as we're there to support him, things will eventually get better."

They heard a snort from across as their eyes glanced over to Mildew. His gaze ignoring their presence, but not holding back a glint of a smirk. Even the slightest of mannerisms from that old man irked Trygve, but he took a breath and pushed away his own annoyance. He wasn't going to start a fight.

To ignore the building frustration, he returned his attention back with Phelma. He moved his free hand to rest above hers and gave a few pats.

"I appreciate yer loyalty, Phel. But enough of dis sad talk. Tell me about yer boys. How are you 'nd yer family?"

She giggled, playfully and dramatically sighed, "Aye, a handful as always. The youngest as rowdy as ever, though I hope Ludvig will grow out of it. As fer Fishlegs, still the shy 'nd obedient child, but still quite da sheep among da other children."

Phelma shook her head, "I worry about dat boy."

"Aye, don't strain yerself, Phel. There's still plenty of time for dat boy to grow."

"Makes ya wonder where all da time went. By Odin it felt non long ago when our children were we babes."

The two parents broke into a soft laughter.

"Aye, agreed. I swear it felt like it was last week when Astrid, Heather, 'nd Hiccup were we ones runnin' 'round da forests playin'. Times...I wish it were still like dat."

The sounds of the front doors to the Great Hall squeaked open as the remaining members of the council arrived. Charging forward was Stoick with Gobber wobbling close behind him like the right hand man that he was. Lastly, Spitelout followed after closing the hall doors, ensuring they wouldn't be disturbed by anyone outside.

Stoick took his seat in the middle across from Trygve, Gobber taking the seat to Stoick's left next to Mildew, and finally Spitelout as he took his seat to the right of his brother.

It was inevitable when Stoick and Trygve's gaze crossed each other. Trygve could easily see the hardened glare within his gaze as they silently stared at one another. For him, he felt proud that Stoick seemed irked from their stand-off mere hours ago.

"Trygve," Stoick grounded out through almost unmoving lips.

"Stoick," he returned, trying to refrain any lingering hate towards the chief.

Unfortunately, the tension between the two men grew as they remained unmoving. Their gazes locked, their bodies growing tense. Even the other members remained silent as they glanced back and forth between their fellow members.

The sound of a slam against the round table and vibrations of the impact jerked everyone from the uncomfortable silence. A shout from one of their members breaking the barrier between everyone.

"Enough!"

Everyone looked over towards the origin of the voice to find Spitelout glaring at Stoick and Trygve. His hand curled tightly into a fist as it rested on top of the table.

"If I recall, we are adults, not children. It was agreed upon us dat personal issues were ta remain outside of da council. We are ta approach unbiased 'nd nothin' more. Until ya two can shove yer squabblin' aside, dis meetin' will not proceed."

Spitelout waited patiently, keeping his eyes on the two Vikings. He wasn't thrilled that Stoick and Trygve kept their glares focused on one another. The dark-haired Viking made a quick glance around the table and saw the others staring at the two, brows furrowed and nervousness as they stared.

Growling, Spitelout looked at Stoick, "Well?"

Stoick glanced at his brother-in-law, then took a quick look around the table and seeing the other's expressions. Closing his eyes and heaving a sigh, he relented.

"Fine," the chief growled out.

Taking his seat, Trygve followed suit and took a deep breath of his own. The group sat in silence, waiting patiently for their chief to begin the meeting.

A few minutes went by when Stoick began.

"Alright, let's begin," Stoick voiced gruffly. He leaned forward until he rested his weight against his arms, intertwining his fingers together as he looked to his council. He sat there, breathing silently as he gathered his thoughts. "I don't think I 'ave ta say it, I'm sure you've all noticed...da dragon raids are becomin' more consistent. All dese constant raids are gettin' out of control. Last night's raid is an example."

Stoick lightly slammed a fist against the top of the table, growly, "Those devils are gettin' craftier. Our supplies are diminishin'."

His demeanor shifted, his brows softening, "Last night's raid has been da most destructive thus far. We lost half da life stock 'nd two storage sheds, completely demolished. Wit' winter pretty much here, I'm not sure there will be enough provisions ta sustain everyone."

Stoick looked around as all the members gave a look of frustration from the news. He could see that clarity within the council that the village would indeed be enduring struggles with the arrival of winter.

"What 'bout our reserves? Surely we 'ave enough ta help sustain the village during this situation?" asked Phelma.

"Possibly," Stoick responded, "however, the issue with dat is the travel. Wit' it taking a week ta travel there by boat 'nd then back, da risk is whether a team can return before da ice becomes a hazard."

Trygve internally yelled. Whatever idiots suggested and approved building a reserve storage on another island should have been thrown off a cliff. But he knew why reserves were built on another island. As much as he hated that reserve provisions were located somewhere else, he could understand the idea of keeping them safe if they ever fell from invaders or had to evacuate the island. Though that last one would probably never happen due to the stronghold that Berk has been. Hopefully.

"Then huntin' should be a priority," Trygve suggested. "Wit' some of the frost I've seen on my way here, it should be dat time of the year where da dragons disappear fer a while. Dat should offer a safety net fer some villagers to go huntin'."

Stoick gave a nod in agreement, "I think that's a smart idea. The island is massive enough ta house plenty of game in da woods ta feed families."

"Though da question is should d'ere be a designated group ta go out 'nd hunt or leave it fer each family ta do it themselves," stated Gobber.

The group fell silent as all thought about it. After a minute, Trygve spoke up with a suggestion.

"Perhaps both would be best." As all the others looked to him, he continued, "It might be best ta 'ave families hunt themselves due ta each havin' a different number of members in a household. And it can also be helpful havin' a small designated group dat goes huntin' fer provisions fer the Great Hall, elders, disabled, as well as fer storing in case a rough storm hits."

"Aye, I think that's a grand idea," spoke Phelma. "As difficult as it may be when da snow hits, I think it's best dat families do their own huntin'. We are Vikings after all 'nd huntin' is a skill dat all of us learned, including the older children."

"Is everyone in agreement then?" asked Stoick.

A round of nods and 'aye' echoed through the space.

"Very well, later tonight I'll make an announcement to the village. Our next matter ta discuss is da houses dat were ruined due ta fires from last night's raid. Thankfully, there weren't a lot of homes destroyed like in the past. The damage stayed to da roofs, a few spread to da sides, but we need ta vote if we want to use the time 'nd resources ta tackle da repairs before da worst of da cold settles.

"It shouldn't take long, most of the damages are small enough ta get them fixed within a few days, a week most. The three homes dat did sustain high damage will take longer. If the snow is light, I suggest builders continue until or if the weather gets worse. The families can take shelter in da Great Hall fer the time being unless d'ere are some families that can house 'em."

"If I may," Phelma asked Stoick. He gave a nod for her to continue. "May I suggest that da villagers that aren't quite skilled in huntin' be da ones sent ta rebuild; perhaps some of the older children. That way we aren't wasting more people than necessary."

Stoick gave a nod, "I think that would be manageable. Does anyone disagree with the idea?"

Everyone responded with no. It would indeed be a smart move for the village. There were some excellent hunters in the tribe, Trygve being one of them. There were plenty of children in Berk; enough to work and aide the help in repairing the damages while the adults focused on the hunting.

Trygve thought that the current situation might be a good chance to spend some bonding time with Hiccup. The man tried to make a mental note to remind himself to ask the young man later.

"Now fer da main matter of discussion 'nd reason fer callin' all o've you here," started Stoick. He opened his mouth, but paused, closing his eyes. Trygve watched worryingly as Stoick's features changed to one of frustration. He watched as the chief sighed deeply before looking back up to the group.

"I've brought you all here today ta discuss 'bout Hiccup. After heavy consideration, I think it's time ta remove the boy as heir."

That stopped Trygve stiff, staring back in shock. He wasn't sure of anyone else's reaction, but he wouldn't be surprised if Phelma had a similar reaction as his.

He didn't want to believe Hiccup when the boy mentioned gossip from his father removing him as heir, but never in his life would he assume his old friend would remove his own son as heir. What in Midgard was Stoick thinking?

"After last night 'nd many issues in da past, it's evident enough dat he's unsuitable fer heir. As of now, I'm placin' Snotlout as a suggestion ta replace Hiccup as heir."

Trygve was speechless by now, not wanting to believe the words that he heard. He took a glance over at Spitelout to see his reaction. To his confusion, the man was silent, staring blankly at the table. Shouldn't he be proud that his bloodline would be up for heir.

In his head, he knew he had to speak up. Convince the council of Hiccup's worth. And if he couldn't convince them, he'll risk his spot on the council if it meant Snotlout didn't get voted in as heir. But before he could convince himself to speak, the silence was broken by the one man that he despised Hiccup the most.

"Praise Odin!" shouted Mildew, raising his hands up in the air. "What 'ave we done fer da grace of te gods ta convince Stoick 'nd see da light!" -he raised his hands down and on the table- "I told you...I told you all dat boy was troublesome. Has been since dat dragon incident all dose years ago. Dat boy doesn't know his place 'nd when ta back off."

He pointed his finger around at everyone, "I know you've heard da murmerin' 'round da village. You know as well as I do dat da tribe doesn't favor da boy."

"Says the man whose despised da boy since birth," growled Trygve, glaring at the old man sitting across from him. "You've always had it out fer da boy 'nd now you're tryin' ta start things up again!"

Trygve could feel himself overcome with anger, his hands curled into fists as he argued his disagreement with Mildew. It was like a nightmare sitting there listening to them. He glanced over to Spitelout, still finding the man sitting their silent and emotionless as words spurred out across the table.

He felt a hand rest atop his right hand, easing his fingers to uncurl. Feeling a gentle squeeze, he looked over to find Phelma giving him a reassuring nod, and mouthing, 'Calm down. Keep a steady mind'.

He heard a scoff from Mildew and turned back to the old man.

"Seems it's clear where Hiccup's attitude originates from. Always knew yer family had anger issues."

"Mildew!" Stoick spoke roughly. "That's enough."

Mildew huffed and rolled his eyes as he continued, looking at everyone, "It's time ta finally give da tribe what they need. It's time ta place a more capable person in line. So I vote yes fer da removal of Hiccup."

"Thank you, Mildew," spoke Stoick. Looking at the group, "Anyone else?"

Gobber cleared his throat, "Aye," signaling everyone's attention towards him.

"Now, as someone who's known da boy his 'ole life, I will not deny dat I would be fightin' fer Hiccup's rightful place as heir. 'Iccup 'as a good heart 'nd work ethic, always has since he's started bein' my apprentice all dose years ago." The blacksmith paused as he sighed and closed his eyes. To the others, it looked like it pained him to continue.

"I like da boy, but I cannae support him any longer. I cannae support him as da man dat he's become. It's neva been quite an issue in da past, but within da past year or two, his attitude 'as been unbearable. I've heard o've it, I've seen it recently in fact, just da other day. His behavior is gettin' reckless 'nd more out o've control.

"I'd neva think 'Iiccup would be a risk, but he is." Gobber looked around the group, "Can ya imagine havin' Hiccup's attitude surfacin' during moments o've signin' treaties? Or buildin' ally connections? Dat attitude o've his could cause our allies ta question our tribe's loyalty or seriousness. It doesn't take much fer someone ta make an opinion o've you. 'Nd I know da boy, he will fight against ya 'nd try ta prove dat yer wrong or inadequate."

The blacksmith shook his head, "We cannae risk da safety o've our tribe 'nd home because o've one bad sheep. So I too, vote yes wit' removin' Hiccup from heirship."

"You all are mad," said Trygve, gaining everyone's attention. He gave the three men, aside from Sven, a disappointed look. "If ya truly think of Hiccup this way, then it's clear ya haven't thought dis through." He gave them a bewildered and perplexed glance, "Snotlout...of all people ta replace Hiccup as heir? Yer out of yer mind, Stoick. If da votes do end up in favorin' the removal of Hiccup, I would expect someone far more suitable than the Jorgenson boy."

He rubbed his temples. Never once would he have imagined gaining such head pain from a council meeting. But dear Freya give him strength to pull through.

"I never once questioned yer leadership before, Stoick," he glanced at his chief, "but now I'm beginnin' ta wonder. Yer blind if ya honestly think Snotlout can lead this village."

He glanced around the table, "Hiccup may 'ave attitude issues, but who wouldn't wit' all da shit he's been through. The village has neva treated that boy well fer six years since that incident." -he looks back at Stoick, Gobber, and Mildew- "And you expect him ta just shove all that abuse 'nd negativity away? It's not blindin' ta see how all you 'nd these damn villagers treat Hiccup. And I'm rather furiated at how he's been treated these past six years."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Trygve knew he had to reel himself in. He had to push back all his bias thoughts on the boy.

"Ya simply can't remove Hiccup because ya feel he's unfit fer the role because of attitude issues. What makes Snotlout more suitable? I can assure you dat boy comes nowhere close ta Hiccup's capability ta lead 'nd I can tell ya why. Firstly, it's obvious that Hiccup is intelligent. There are things I've seen that boy do 'nd create like no other. A tribe needs a leader who's inventive 'nd creative dat can be used when solvin' issues. Secondly, Hiccup is hardworkin'. Even wit' all da shit he's been through; he's always remained professional 'nd worked hard. Can you deny that, Gobber?"

He watched satisfyingly as the blacksmith glanced away, unable to retort his claim.

"Be as that may, Try, dat still does not excuse Hiccup's behavior," stated Gobber. "I can understand feelin' frustrated 'nd snappin' once in a while, we all 'ave limits...but he tends ta make it a habit 'nd do it on purpose. It's become a default o've his 'nd we can't 'ave dat. Mark my word, his sarcastic ways is gonna cause trouble more than it already has."

"Are ya hearin' yerself?" he asked perplexed. "How is Hiccup's behavior different from any other boar-headed Viking? Especially Stoick who we all know is boar-headed 'nd aggressive. Everyone knows he wasn't Stoick the Vast before."

"The difference is," spoke Gobber, "Is dat Stoick has control 'nd knows when ta back off. Hiccup does not."

Trygve sighed in frustration, gripping his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself from the annoyance and stubborn group.

"Why are we even lettin' dis man speak?"

It took every nerve in Trygve's body to not launch himself across the table at the sound of Mildew's voice. He wasn't sure how much he could handle the old man.

"His connection 'nd attachment wit' da boy should prevent him from votin' in dis matter. All o've his opinions are biased 'nd I'm sure I'm not da only one who thinks so."

"Says the man who's hated the boy since his birth," countered Trygve.

"At least I don't 'ave much ta gain from wit' his removal. Unlike you; wit' yer family name damaged 'nd all. Yer daughter is bound wit' Hiccup. If there's anyone ta gain anythin' out o've dis debate, it's you." Mildew gave a disgusted grimace, "That impure daughter o've yers is probably nothin' but a status climbing thrall."

That was the breaking point. He could ignore the distaste and hate against him and his family name, but he will not stand anyone disgracing any of the three women in his life. No one, not even Mildew, will disrespect his daughter's name and get away with it.

Launching out of his chair, Trygve ran around the table towards Mildew's location. He was half way from reaching Mildew before he was grabbed and stopped by Gobber, Sven, and Phelma; holding him back as best as they could. Trygve Hofferson wasn't just known for being a great warrior, but his strength was a great deal and probably equal to Stoick.

Stoick himself stood in between the group holding Trygve back and Mildew. The chief might have his differences with his former friend, but even a man such as him would not tolerate disrespect against a person who did not deserve it, especially Astrid. He turned to look at Mildew and glared at the old man.

"Mildew, I will not tolerate nor defend you against what ya just stated. Dis is yer only warnin'. Step out o've line again 'nd you will be removed from this council. Is dat clear?"

Mildew hunched down from Stoick's imposing glare, grumbling before submitting to agreement.

Stoick asked everyone to return to their seats so the meeting could continue forward. Trygve remained in place great reluctance; Phelma eventually convincing him to return to his seat.

"What ya said, Mildew, was uncalled fer," stated Phelma. "Ya know as well as I do 'nd anyone in this village knows that the Hofferson clan has always been loyal people ta all. That includes da chief. Slanderin' Astrid won't waive da votes ta yer favor in any matter 'nd it's best ya remember dat in da future."

She moved her gaze from Mildew to address her point of view on the matter.

"Now back to the topic of priority. I won't be goin' over everythin' Trygve has stated, no sense in repeatin', but I too agree wit' what Trygve has mentioned. Other than his intelligence 'nd hard work ethics, dat boy is carin'. Of course, probably only wit' those he trusts 'nd is close with, but I'm confident he would show care towards da people of the village if needed. Hiccup had been when he was younger, there might be a chance now."

Phelma looked at the three that aim towards replacing Hiccup with Snotlout. "Can ya say fer certain that Snotlout is carin'? Would be willin' ta put others before him? I've seen how that boy acts ta the other children. He's an intimidator, always aggressive towards those he deems less than him. However, the one that seems ta be at the end of his aggression is Hiccup."

She gives off a baffled look, "Yet, does anyone do anythin'? Sometimes. Does anyone do anythin' when the person at the end of his bullyin' is Hiccup? No, of course not. No one does a damn thing. I remember when Berk was a bit brighter 'nd everyone was actually willin ta help anyone. If no one is willin' to stop Snotlout 'nd his bully ways, what makes ya think he's not goin' ta ruin alliances wit' those we 'ave treaties with? There is more ta bein' a good chief than just brawns." -She looked straight at Stoick and Gobber- "I would 'ave thought some of you would remember details like that."

She eased back against her chair, "So, I too, vote ta keep Hiccup as heir."

"The vote stands at three ta two," Stoick began. He looked over to his brother-in-law, Spitelout. Throughout the meeting, the burly chief found it odd and out of nature for his brother to remain silent for so long.

"What say you, brother?" He asked Spitelout. "You've been oddly silent so far. What is yer stand on the matter?"

The dark haired man's gaze rose up as he looked at Stoick. Quietly, he looked around at the others at the table. Clearing his throat, "My apologies everyone."

Spitelout pushed himself up in his chair, leaning his weight against his arms above the table.

"I didn't mean ta seem out o've the norm. I was simply listenin' 'nd takin' in everythin' that was bein' said." -giving a hum- "Wit' the matter o've topic on the table, decisions 'nd discussions need ta be well thought out."

He took to drumming his fingers against the hardwood table, "And such topic bein' discussed is a great deal." The viking went silent before breaking out into a chuckle, "To imagine the pride of my ancestors right now at the thought of havin' a Jorgenson takin' over da line of chiefdom. They'd be celebratin' up in Valhalla I'm sure."

Looking at the group surrounding the table, "In another time, I'd be proud at the thought...if my son wasn't an idiot."

Spitelout saw the surprise fill every single one of the members around the table, including Gothi as they sat there in silence. He wasn't surprised that he said such words about his own flesh and blood, but he knew his son wasn't all that intelligent. If his son had more brains than the dragons that raided them, then perhaps he'd be happy at the thought of his son being chosen. Though, being the man that he was, he would gladly choose what was best for Berk over a victory of pride.

Most importantly, he wouldn't risk the promise he held dear to his heart. For no amount of pride of chiefdom was worth pushing aside the remaining remembrance of his sister, Valka.

"I've been by yer side fer many things through a lot o've years, Stoick," began Spitelout, turning his attention to his brother. "But dis is probably the worst idea ya have ever considered. My son, as heir? I love my boy, I do; 'nd I ain't afraid ta say it, but Snotlout is not fit ta be heir. Try 'nd Phelma already confirmed everythin' that is true about my boy. Snot is too self-centered 'nd selfish to truly run a village. He's lazy 'nd aggressive 'nd you know it."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, feeling like it's easily clear who the best option for the matter was. "If ya compare the two, I think it's obvious who's the better person. I know some o've you dislike Hiccup, it's not difficult ta see, but ya can't let that be a main factor ta strip him o've his birthright."

Spitelout pushed himself back against his seat and took a breather.

"You might not see it, but I do believe Hiccup is destined fer greatness; more than Snotlout could or will ever be. I believe he'll be the greatest chief dat Berk as seen; even greater than you, Stoick. So, I vote fer keepin' Hiccup as heir."

He glanced over to three voting against Hiccup, "If ya can provide evidence dat will prove my son as a suitable option, then I'm willin' ta listen 'nd consider. Until then, my answer remains as is."

The council stood divided with an equal vote of three on each side. Judged by the silent and look on Stoick's face, it indicated to the others that the chief did not expect the debate on the matter to go the way it had. To Trygve, Phelma, and Spitelout, they felt confident that Stoick expected all to agree and make the topic an easy issue to pass. How wrong Stoick was to believe such a thing.

"Uh...well," the chief wasn't sure what to say, "I guess wit' the vote three ta three, dat leaves the final vote ta Sven." -looking over to the man- "So, what say you, friend? What's yer opinion on the matter?"

The silent man jerked in attention as everyone's gaze turned to him. Feeling the effect of the pressure, his blonde brows furrowed towards the center as he fell into a deep thought. For the farmer wasn't sure what to do that wouldn't cause the most negative response based of his choosing.

Sven unsure what to do looked over to Gothi. As a fellow villager on silent terms, he did his best to give a silent conversation with the healer elder in hopes she would understand his predicament.

After a minute of muted glancing between the farmer and elder, the group watched as Gothi held her staff and began writing in the small section of sand next to her seat. She scribbled quickly and looked over to Stoick once she was finished.

The chief patted the back of his left hand against Gobber's right arm, signally for the blacksmith to head over to Gothi and translate the message. Giving his friend a nod, Gobber stood from his seat and hobbled his way towards the older woman. Standing beside her, Gobber looked at the scribbled runes in the sand as he mumbled the words in an attempt to share with the others.

"Uh…" -squinting at the runes- "Sven says...dat he dunnae know who ta...chew?"

The snap of Gothi's staff making contact with Gobber's head echoed between the group as some winced from the sound. Gobber jumped up shouting as he rubbed his head.

"Ta choose! He dusnnae know who ta choose." The blacksmith glared at the elder as he grumbled. "Ya nasty old thing."

Gothi raised her staff up and huffed, eyeing him as if to dare Gobber to repeat what he said again. The man held his hands up in defeat, shaking his head as he retreated back to his seat.

Stoick sighed in defeat, "It seems we stand at an impasse." The chief looked straight at Sven, "I know yer strugglin' wit' yer decision, Sven, but we do need an answer."

"Perhaps we hold the final vote ta next meetin'. That can allow Sven a chance ta take a moment ta think everythin' over, countin' that he's the final vote." stated Spitelout. "After all, it is an important matter that requires a good deal in thinkin'."

"You know we can't-"

The doors to the Great Hall slammed opened, startling all the council members as three villagers ran in.

"Chief! We need ya. It's urgent."

"Can't it wait?" asked Stoick.

"Sorry, chief, but it's about da storage 'nd emergency provisions."

Stoick growled and looked to the group.

"We'll continue this at a later time. I'll send word when we can meet about dis topic again. Fer now," -the chief looked to Sven- "think about the discussion o've everythin' ya heard 'nd see if you can make a decision. When we meet again you'll 'ave ta give us yer vote." He stood from his chair, "Until then, you all 'ave a good day. I better go handle my duties."

With nothing else to say, Stoick walked away from the others and followed the villagers as they explained the situation, all but a whisper to the others from the distance between them.

Standing from his seat, Gobber followed as he hobbled after Stoick. Mildew following close behind as he left the Great Hall.

Pushing herself off her seat, Gothi gave the remaining three a smile and nod of farewell as Trygve, Phelma, and Spitelout watched the elder making her way out of the hall. Wishing Gothi a goodbye as the three remained behind. Once they saw the doors the hall shut, both Phelma and Trygve turned to Spitelout. Even still, the chief's brother stood untroubled.

"Alright, Spitelout, spill," demanded Phelma, breaking the silence between the three. "Why in the Hel would ya want ta keep Hiccup as heir?"

"We know ya 'ave more benefit wit' yer own son in line? There is more ta yer reasonin' that yer not sharin'," added Trygve.

"I know my loyalty ta my brother would relate many things, but do not concede that notion dat I would simply stand by Stoick's every word or opinion."

Spitelout's expression softened, his gaze staring at nothing.

"Then why? Help us understand," Phelma asked calmly, looking curiously at her friend.

"Valka."

Both Phelma and Trygve froze at the name of their beloved friend. It's not very common to speak her name without the worry of bringing back unwanted memories of that night she was taken by the dragons. That as it may be, what about Valka would have Spitelout side towards Hiccup?

"Do ya know o've my relations wit' Valka?" The man looked over at the two.

Trygve looked at Phelma and gave a shrug. They looked back at Spitelout waiting for the answer. The dark-haired man released some of the tension within his shoulders as he moved to the nearest chair.

"It's not a well-known knowledge, but Valka was adopted into my family when we were very young. She came from an unknown origin but she was so small when my family found her on one o've their travels. Valka's parents were murdered when she fled until da day she stumbled upon my family. My parents decided ta take her in, adopt her in as a Jorgensen." He smiled at the small memories of him and Valka as little kids.

"She was an incredible sister. I was always protective o've her as I promised to our parents that I'd always look out fer her. Ya can't even imagine my hesitance dat day Stoick shared his love fer Valka. Though, they suited each other; she provided a stability that Stoick desperately needed when we were young." He looked at the two and gave them a smirk. "Somethin' I'm sure you two know very well."

He felt lighter at the response of Phelma and Trygve giving a smile as they nodded in silent agreement.

Spitelout's smile fell and eyes lowered to the table when he prepared to tell them the truth behind his reasoning.

"Ya see, when Hiccup was born Valka took me aside 'nd asked o've me fer a promise. She begged me ta promise that if anythin' were ta happen ta her that I would look out fer Hiccup."

Phelma and Trygve watched in surprise and awe at the sight of Spitelout's lower lip quivering. The man looked up and gazed at the two, unshed tears brimming at the edge.

"Hiccup is da last thing I 'ave ta Valka 'nd I can't bear sidin' wit' a man who can toss aside da only child that is da last remembrance we 'ave o've the woman be both cherish. My sister didn't die fer nothin'." He pushed his gaze away, "I blame him ya know."

He rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to subside the whiplash of different emotions coursing through him.

"He may be my chief 'nd brother, but I blame him fer dat night dat Valka was taken. I love my brother, but I can't get rid o've dat longin' hatred o've him."

"Spite?"

At the sound of his name he looked up to see Phelma gave him a saddened but understanding gesture of the eyes, "We miss her too."

He gave her a hum in acknowledgement, but it didn't take away the exhaustion nor pain that ran through him. No one but his wife knew that he would wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep on random days from the memory of Valka being taken away. To this day his mind is plagued by what ifs. He even wondered what Valka would think if she were to learn how Stoick and the tribe has treated her son.

The door to the Great Hall creaked opened and a villager calling for Spitelout.

"Spitelout?"

The viking looked up to the man by the entrance, giving him a signal to speak.

"There's a visitor 'ere ta see ya. Says he scheduled a meetin' ta talk."

Spitelout glanced down, his eyes moving side to side in though, mumbling to himself, "He's earlier than expected."

Unaware, Phelma and Trygve heard his mumbling. The latter's attitude changing to mistrust and doubt from the odd and sudden change in behavior from the man across from him. Sensing something suspicious.

"Should I let 'em in, sir?"

"No," Spitelout responded as he pushed himself up from the chair. "Tell him ta give me a minute 'nd ta meet me at da dock by his boat."

"Aye, sir."

The villager left, leaving one of the doors to the Great Hall ajar. Once the space was cleared Trygve spoke.

"Ya better start speakin', Spite." -moving towards the man, loudly- "I don't know-"

Spitelout rushed over to Trygve in a slight panic, pushing his hands in front and gesturing for his friend to fall silent.

"Quiet, Trygve," Spitelout harshly whispered.

Trygve halted and jerked back from Spitelout's quick movements and looked at the man stunned. But then fell back to look at him suspiciously.

"You two 'ave to be quiet if ya want me ta explain," Spitelout glanced over at the slightly opened door in the distance then back at Phelma and Trygve. "There are ears everywhere 'nd ya 'ave to be cautious. And what is spoken here remains between us."

"Cautious of what?" asked Phelma.

"There are people here dat ya can't trust. If you expect ta win Hiccup's spot ta remain heir then yer best bet is ta believe dat everyone other than us 'nd your family," -looking specifically at Trygve- "is untrustworthy."

Both blinked in confusion.

"Many lie their loyalty ta Stoick 'nd will side wit' whatever he deems best. It's the reason why I'm meetin' wit' one o've my many informants from around the Archipelago. I know very well how many o've us here on Berk value our traditions 'nd old ways, however...it's goin' ta become our downfall."

He watched their confusion turn deeper as well as concerned.

"The world is changin' 'nd if we can't learn ta accept 'nd adapt, then we're goin' ta suffer. It's why we need Hiccup ta be heir. His way o've thinkin' is far advanced 'nd what this island needs. Without him we won't move forward. Hiccup's are only way ta improve 'nd thrive."

Spitelout knew he had to get going, had to get an update from his informants from around the Archipelago. Before leaving, he wanted to give Trygve one last advice.

"Before I leave, I want you ta promise me somethin', Try," said man looked at Spitelout silently and waiting. "Ya need ta make sure you keep an eye on Hiccup or 'ave someone ya trust nearby ta look out fer him."

"Why?" asked Trygve.

"After today, there are goin' ta be many who will ensure dat boy doesn't become heir...whatever means necessary. And I know my son won't help in dat matter. So keep an eye out fer Snot as well. I've seen the bruises my son has left on Hiccup."

"Then why don't ya stop him?" Trygve argued back, but not angrily, more annoyed.

"I do punish him when I've seen him in the act o've hurtin' Hiccup. Believe me, he has his own marks o've beatin's as well as from hard labor. However, I can't be everywhere at every moment when Snotlout goes after Hiccup. Ya know dat, Try. So, please, fer Valka. Be there fer him when I haven't."

Without another word, Spitelout quietly walked out of the Great Hall and began his trip to the docks. Leaving Trygve and Phelma to themselves, Phelma looked over to her friend.

"He made a good point ya know. We're goin' ta 'ave ta make sure Hiccup's safety is a priority."

"Aye," the man took a deep breath as he tried to calm down that scattered chaos of information running through his head. "I'll be sure ta inform the family. I'm sure they wouldn't mind keepin' close ta Hiccup."

The idea of Astrid always at his side and ready to chop anyone set to harm her beloved brought a soft smile to him.

He looked over to Phelma, "I'll see ya later, Phel. I'm goin' ta make my way home 'nd update the family about preparin' fer the winter. If ya need anythin', ya know where ta find me."

"As always," she gave him a smile as both walked out of the Great Hall together, saying goodbye to one another before splitting at the bottom of the steps.

Walking through the front door of his home, Trygve found his wife in her usual state of routine in the kitchen cooking. She had a bright smile across her face as she rolled out some dough atop the counter where she stood. He wondered what could bring such a fulfilling smile to his wife.

As Trygve prepared to call out his presence with a greeting, he saw Hiccup come up from behind the small wall that led to the other half of the kitchen area. The man was surprised to see the young man awake. However, what caught the father's attention was the bright smile that adorned Hiccup's face.

The boy was relaxed, far more relaxed than he's seen Hiccup the past few days. For him, it was a pleasing sight to come home to smiles and refreshing atmosphere of controlled calmness.

From his point of view he could see Hiccup with different jars of fillings, placing them on the counter between him and Hilda. Through his experience of watching his wife cooking or baking through the years, he was sure they were in the midst of making a pie.

"Well, good mornin', Hiccup," greeted Trygve.

Hiccup looked up to see Trygve moving towards, taking a seat at the nearest chair closest to them. He gave a soft smile in return as he greeted the man back.

"Morning, Try," said Hiccup.

"Wasn't expectin' ya ta be up already. Thought you'd be still sleepin some more."

The young man shrugged, used to getting only a few hours of sleep, "Nah. I got enough sleep. Astrid's close snuggling creates a nice comfort aura, ya know. Though, she'll probably be annoyed that I won't be in bed when she wakes up."

Trygve chuckled, eyes scrunched in amusement. He always knew his daughter was a bit fawn of closeness when it came to Hiccup. Got even more after the craziness six years ago. The man was sure Astrid would deny it, but he could tell that being close and snuggled to Hiccup's side wasn't just comfort for him, but a comfort for her as well. He wasn't sure how much the change between them and the village was truly affecting his children, but he was proud of them handling everything. It was just a blessing that Astrid was willing to be a little vulnerable behind closed doors, especially with Hiccup.

"I'm sure dat apple pie you two are makin' will ease her once she wakes," he grinned.

He watched his wife place the flattened dough in the circular pan. Pressing out any area that bubbled and rounded out.

After deeming good enough, she gestured for Hiccup to open the jars and layer the sliced apples and cinnamon until a half inch above the pan. While Hiccup did as told, Hilda looked over to her husband.

"So, how da meetin' go?"

Her husband sighed heavily. That alone told her it was a stressful meeting.

"Da raid last night really took a toll on our provision 'nd there's no time ta sail out to the island where our emergency provisions are stored. So, it's goin' to be up ta all families ta hunt fer themselves. With the snow practically here none o've us will 'ave to worry 'bout da dragons. And wit' the approachin' snow, that should bring out da animals searchin' fer food."

"Then I best make sure I grab all the winter coats out. Cause I don't want ta risk dealin' wit' you or the children freezin' out there when huntin'," said Hilda.

"Aye, thanks dear." Trygve looked at Hiccup as the boy finished layering the apples and spice. "Which leads me to asking you, Hiccup."

The boy in question looked up at his father figure with a brow raised in curiosity. Usually, anything that leads with questions pertaining to him brought out a small sense of dread. However, seeing the man that's been a great father to him displaying a hopeful smile eased him inside. Giving Trygve a smile in return, he waited to hear what the man had to say.

"How do ya feel 'bout joinin' me fer da first round of huntin'?" asked Trygve.

His question brought back the information that Astrid and Heather shared with him the previous day back in the woods. He remembered how the girls explained Trygve's wish to go hunting with him to spend some bonding time. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain and agreed that it was long overdue with having a father and son moment. Plus, he always enjoyed hanging around Trygve and learning from him. Perhaps it was also time to show Trygve his skills in return, teach his father figure some new tricks.

"I'd like that," Hiccup smiled brighter. "I can show you some new methods I used and practiced."

"Perfect. We'll head out in two days. Give us a chance to gather our equipment 'nd pack."

"Sounds good," Hiccups said as he helped Hilda place the top dough piece over the pile of apples and pie pan. Together, they pinched the ends with the rest of the pie dough to seal the edges shut.

As the two finished, all three began hearing the creaking of the floorboards above them. Precisely, Hiccup knew that it was originating from Astrid's bedroom. Listening to the flow of creaking, the three of them looked over at the stairway waiting for the person to come down.

Like Hiccup undoubtedly knew, a few seconds passed when the creaking moved to the stairs and Astrid emerged at the bottom. The sight that beheld him was one of his most cherished appearances of Astrid. Her hair was disheveled and out of place, her bangs being the more wildly unkempt. Wearing one of his tunics and a pair of her leggings added more of the gorgeous factor for him. It made him feel like she wasn't afraid to show off her softer side, her little moments of vulnerability.

Watching her look at him with droopy eyes and a face stating she didn't want to be up, Astrid walked over to Hiccup. To him, he was expecting the routine of getting a morning hug, but instead he watched as Astrid punched him in the arm causing him to yelp.

"What was that for?!"

"That's for not being beside me when I woke up."

"But I made you apple cinnamon pie!" as he rubbed his arm.

Astrid looked over to the counter with the prepared pie waiting to be baked. She took a sniff and could smell the sweetness of the apples and aroma of cinnamon. Looking back at Hiccup, she gripped a bit of his tunic and pulled him down until their lips met; giving him a deep kiss.

Releasing him from the small kiss, she looked up at him with tired eyes and smile. She felt even more proud when the same loving gleam she had was on Hiccup too.

"And that's for being amazing."

"Alright ya two, save that mushy stuff fer da bedroom," chuckled Trygve as he playfully rolled his eyes at the display of affection.

Beside them, Hilda grabbed the completed pie and placed it on the rack above the fireplace in the center of the home.

Astrid stepped away and grabbed a plate of leftover porridge, putting two spoons of sugar and a tablespoon of honey before stirring everything together. Reaching over to a bowl of fruits, she took a handful of berries and dropped them in the bowl before heading back to the dining table, taking a seat across from her father.

"Did you have the meeting yet today?" Astrid asked as she began to eat her food.

"Aye, I did."

"Did you guys discuss the issue about Hiccup?" She took a glance at Hiccup, gaining his gaze in return as they waited for the result.

"We did 'nd it was quite a debate. They want ta replace Hiccup wit' Snotlout as heir."

Astrid choked on the food in her mouth at the announcement of Snotlout's name. Clearing her throat, she stared at her father in shock.

"So it's true? They want to remove Hiccup for that yak brained Snotlout? Are they insane? Snotlout is a lazy, egotistical pig!"

"Yes, but it's not set 'n stone yet." That gathered everyone's attention. "The vote remains at a standstill wit' a tie. Sven is da final vote but Stoick was called fer some urgent reasons so it's postponed fer now."

"Who's on what side?" asked Astrid.

It wasn't a surprise that they were curious. Though perhaps it was for the best if it meant protecting Hiccup.

Trygve looked up at Hiccup and gave him an apologetic smile, "It might hurt a bit, lad."

Hiccup gave him an understanding smile in return, "I know, Try, but I want to hear it."

The father could somewhat understand where Hiccup was coming from. He could see that Hiccup wanted to hear the confirmation of the people that sided to remove him, but it also troubled him whether this was something that Hiccup needed. Would it lead Hiccup further down that struggling path of his?

"Very well. Fer removing you as heir, the votes are from Stoick, Mildew, and Gobber. Though I'm sure you're not completely surprised."

And right Trygve was, however, Hiccup wasn't surprised that his father as well as Mildew voted for his removal. But, like the wishful thinking of his naive mind he dared to hope that Gobber would have voted to keep him. There was a part of him that he truly hoped that Gobber would have wanted him, even though they had their disagreement. And like everyone else, even he left him behind and turned away.

"No...I guess not," replied Hiccup. He pushed out a defeated sigh, "but I had hoped that Gobber wasn't one."

"I'm sorry, son."

Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, appearing to be unbothered. There was nothing that his family had to apologize for. They weren't the ones that shoved him aside and pushed him away.

"It just shows who's not to be trusted. I just thought Gobber was that last few good hearted viking that believed in me."

"Well, don't worry too much, lad. We still 'ave a chance. I feel Sven is a fair man 'nd will choose wisely."

Hiccup gestured with his right hand, waving away the amount of the conversation, "Ah, let's not worry about it now. I think we've dwelled long enough about this situation. As you said, we've got a chance and we still have time."

He moved away from the kitchen and went to sit next to Astrid and return his attention to Trygve. Hiccup put on a smile, moving away from the result of the meeting to a more positive mood about hunting with his favorite father figure.

"Let's discuss that hunting trip."

Two Days Later

Across a nearby area of the Archipelago, the sea swayed strongly from the surrounding weather, coating the air and sea surface in a thick layer of fog. The previous day of snow storms covering the atmosphere in a glooming gray and overall silence, the only noise coming from the swishing of the ocean's waves below. From within the clouds, a shadow soared across.

Breaking through a section of low clouds, a young light fury soared through the sky, letting the chilling air seep through her body. The ache in her joints increased as the moisture from the clouds grew colder along her scales. Her body wasn't built for cold, though she knew she could handle the chill for a short while, but eventually it got too much.

As of now, she started feeling the effects of the colder weather and started feeling the exhaustion growing upon her body. Even now as she continued to soar trying to find her way home, she regretted flying further out and swaying away from the boundaries that home was located. She remembers the warning that mother gave her every time before leaving the sanctuary.

'Stay within the boundaries, Starr. There are horrible people out there that would harm you...even kill ya fer what you are. Be vigilant and safe.'

She crooned at the memory, feeling melancholy along with the distress of being unable to find her path home. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she shouldn't have pushed beyond the boundaries that mother had set for her. But she also couldn't handle being secluded to one location any longer. She understood that mother just wanted to protect her; always had since she was a hatchling.

Though the itch to explore kept calling her. She wanted to go beyond and see something new. To see things that mother had once told in her stories. Surely there were more humans like her mother. If she ever found one.

Gliding through another casing of clouds, Starr took a chance and flew lower towards the water to get a better view of her surroundings. Feeling the exhaustion and lack of exertion, she knew she had to find land soon or risk the waves of the unforgiving waves a few feet below her. The added freezing weather was not making her fair any better. Cursing her body for a lack of durability towards the survival of the cold.

Pushing through the thick fog, she caught a glimpse of a section of sea stacks and pushed herself towards the rocks. Fighting against the wind current, she struggled but managed to land on the nearest surface. She sat and took a breather to catch her breath. The pain in her back and wings became more prominent the longer she rested. Starr couldn't even guess how long she had been flying, though the exhaustion she felt gave enough of an idea.

Feeling the mist from the waters below coating her scales, she gave a shiver as a chill ran through her body. Heat was a priority now, the urgency of getting warm pushing her further. Taking the chance while she sat on the rock bed, she glanced around in hopes to find land through the fog. Ears twitching and picking up any sound around the area, she believed she heard some birds chirping in one direction after a few minutes of listening. Pushing herself up, Starr ignored the exhausted pain in her body and launched into the air heading towards the direction she heard the animal life.

Squinting against the mist and fog, she finally caught sight of tree tops before the fog uncloaked to reveal land. Giving a happy croon, she shot forward and dropped in relief. However, that relief was short lived when she landed into a heap of snow covering the ground. She warbled in annoyance feeling the substance coating her. It's not like Starr didn't like snow, she's used to the sight of it back home, but at this moment it's not helping her from freezing.

Shaking off the excess snow on her body, she navigated through the heavy wooded area, searching for anything that she could use as shelter. As she walked along the snow coated ground, Starr began taking note of the lack of caves.

Pushing forward, she explored the new area, carefully taking in the landscape. As much as she focused on finding shelter, she couldn't help but gaze at her new surroundings. It felt so different from home and oddly comforting.

After a while roaming, she chirped in excitement at the first sight of a small cave. Rushing over, she gandered at the shelter and looked around, taking note of the emptiness, easily secluded behind a congested section of trees. She deemed it well enough to rejuvenate her strength and protect herself from the cold. As she walked towards the mouth of the cave, she stopped by one of the nearby trees and tore off some branches and loose bark, dragging them deep into the shelter and away from the edge of teh opening. Placing them into a pile like she's seen mother do, Starr shot three small plasma blasts to ignite the fire.

Watching the flames burn, she eased next to the heat and sighed in content as the warmth started chasing away the chill within her body as well as the cave. Feeling warmer, she decided it was best to rest, give her body a break from her unplanned excursion. So, with the pleasant warmth and protection of the cave, she drifted off into slumber.

It wasn't for a couple hours before she roused from her sleep, the fire still lowly burning to a manageable blaze. She stretched, her back arching into a perfect curve as she dug her claws into the ground and kneading the dirt loose.

Giving a yawn and a final stretch, Starr turned to the barely lit fire. Using her tail, she scooped up a small pile of dirt like she's seen her mother do and poured it above the remaining flames. Satisfied with the dying embers, she galloped to the entrance of the cave.

Perking her ears to listen, Starr trudged cautiously and quietly. Listening intently to her surroundings due to the unfamiliar area. Silently, she stepped outside onto the snow coated ground. Thankfully, the fog lifted up a bit, making it slightly better for visibility.

Feeling the snow crunch below each step, she walked along the forest to search for something to eat. From all the exhaustion and use of her energy, she was hoping to find a pond unfrozen with some fish. Though if need be, she was willing to search for small animals. They might even taste better without mother's cooking involved.

Searching and gazing up into the trees for any signs of food, it had been a couple of minutes when she finally picked up a scent. Smiling, she started weaving her way through the trees and terrain when she sniffed again to locate the scent. When a small freeze blew through the forest, she began sniffing faster when an unexpecting scent penetrated her nose.

Jerking in surprise, Starr grew hopeful as she urgently sniffed the air again, picking up the familiar scent in the air.

'Mother!'

Warbling in relief and excitement, Starr dashed along the terrain towards the path where she smelled the scent of mother. She felt overjoyed that mother was in the area, probably out searching for her when she hadn't returned during her normal outgoings.

The closer she got the stronger the scent picked up.

'Right over the barrier. Oh, I can't wait to see her and Cloudjumper.'

Jumping up on a stack of boulders, digging her claws into the surface and pulling her way up; she made it to the top of the small cliff and ran towards the barricade of bushes.

'Mother!'

Launching over the line of bushes, her eyes grew in a panic as she clawed to stop. In front of her she came face to face with another human that smelled like her mother. A young man that had some similarities to her. The auburn bronze hair and those bright, forest green eyes that looked so much like hers.

He held up an axe in preparation for an attack, but unlike his posture, he stared at her with equal confusion.

Starr took a step back and unsure, 'You're not mother.'