'How did last night's session go, by the way?' Toothless asked, his wingbeats strong and sure, out over the ocean. They had been flying for quite a while, and it was near dawn. Maour always quibbled with Toothless that the trip to the forge here was slightly longer than going to the forge on Berk had been, in the way that an all-night flight was slightly longer than two minutes.

"Nóttleiðtogi was good," Maour's voice was light, "if that's what you're asking. No snarling, no death threats, no physical attacks. Just like every other time."

'You know that's not… the only thing I was asking,' Toothless amended.

Maour sighed. "Bud, you and I both know it's going to take time, more than a few months." A few months of meeting Nóttleiðtogi at least twice a week and working on the Nótt Fury's issues. After that first session, their progress was much slower, if steady. It would probably be years before Nóttleiðtogi was truly comfortable around Maour to the degree they were aiming for. That was fine. Some things just took time, and they did have time, so that was no issue.

'I know.' Toothless paused before continuing. 'Still, it was good?'

"As good as could be expected. He's slowly getting used to the sight of me, at least." It had been surprising how difficult that particular facet of Nóttleiðtogi's issues was. Nóttleiðtogi still flinched whenever he saw Maour, though it was so subtle Maour hadn't been able to see it until Nóttleiðtogi had described it. That flinch still happened, but Nóttleiðtogi said it was getting easier to control. Small steps.

'Maybe I could come along,' Toothless began, his voice innocent. 'Just to see how much progress you two have already made.'

Maour laughed. "No. You're just trying to get me into trouble." When Eldurhjarta had caught wind of what Maour was doing with Nóttleiðtogi, she had pulled him aside… and forced him to swear that he wouldn't repeat anything Nóttleiðtogi told him without the Fury's permission. She had been muttering something about a 'healer's oath' the entire time. His objection that he wasn't a healer had not dissuaded her. Toothless did not take being cut entirely out of the loop on that particular activity very well, and had been trying to worm his way back into eavesdropping or listening in through Maour's senses ever since.

'Is it my fault I want to see what Eldurhjarta would do if you broke that oath?' Toothless asked innocently. 'She certainly seemed angry when Shadow suggested she take it herself, after hearing about everyone's injuries from Eldurberg one time too many.'

Maour had not heard about that. "You know, that might explain where she got the idea, and why there has been a suspicious lack of information from Eldurberg recently." He had never known just how many accidents happened on a daily basis until he had met Eldurberg, who sneakily passed on his healer sister's every gripe about stubborn patients. Apparently, strained wings were common, almost as common as dragons trying to fly with strained wings and making the injury worse, despite Eldurhjarta's instructions to rest them, and so on…

'Yes, she sees you as a healer of the mind, I think.' Toothless chortled at that. 'Funny.'

"You say that, but I'm doing pretty well." Maour didn't think of himself like that. He was helping Nóttleiðtogi because he was the only one who could, not because he was good at it.

'What's funny is that she thinks you're moving in on her territory,' Toothless explained. 'I expect us to be called in for a round of questioning on the mind soon, so she can pump you for everything you know.'

"We'll be out of there in five minutes, so no problem." Maour smiled. "And if she expands her knowledge to cover mental issues too, then so much the better."

'Fair.' Toothless glanced back at Maour. 'Did Berk have a healer who knows about that stuff?'

"Gothi?" Maour considered that. "I don't know what she knows. Probably not. Vikings hit their heads on rocks for fun. She would probably have given up in despair if she tried to understand that." Gothi had always struck him as intelligent… and silent, creepy, not to mention reclusive. Who in their right mind had their house built halfway up a mountain?

'I still don't understand that,' Toothless remarked. 'Is it fun?'

"Maybe after you've done it a few times, you'll be brain-damaged enough to think it's fun," Maour mused.

'We're there,' Toothless said after a few minutes. 'Finally.'

Maour snapped back to the present, dismissing his half-formed thoughts on mental issues and the ramifications of Berk's only healer being possibly crazy herself. The island village of Mahelmetan, the closest island with a village and therefore forge, was a smudge on the dark horizon.

About half an hour later, they landed in the old and tangled outcropping of a forest, the only such patch on the island of fields. Maour understood why that was now, having asked around. Mahelmetan had built up a thriving lumber industry but didn't understand the process of replanting very well. They gave up and switched to animal husbandry once they realized the trees weren't growing back. Maour was just glad there was still some forest left. He and Toothless sat there and waited for the sun to rise.

Neither of them minded the prospect of having flown all night, working all day, and then flying back the next night. These thirty-six-hour trips didn't bother Maour now. He wouldn't feel it, and after a full day's rest he would be back to full energy. Just like Toothless. That had turned out to be another ability the bond transferred over after a while left open.

Toothless wouldn't be sleeping today, either. They were here to do something both of them had been looking forward to, and Toothless was going to be involved in this particular project. He already had been. They had waited until now for a reason. Two, in fact.

The last time he had been here, Maour had found something quite odd in the forge. It was a hunk of metal that was not the normal color of iron, but almost a smoky purple. He had immediately asked the smith, whose name was Framja, what it was. She had said she bought it out of curiosity from a trader. It was apparently stronger than iron, much lighter, and could hold a much sharper point. She said she didn't really have a use for it, because no one requested new weapons from her. They just wanted old ones repaired.

Maour had immediately bought it off of her and had voluntarily paid her more than she paid for it, which had been possible because with the fresh-caught fish Toothless often caught each visit for Maour to sell, he had a fair amount of gold. He had brought the metal back to Toothless, who had been sleeping in the forest. He hadn't even had to say what he wanted to use it for.

They had spent hours back at home designing the new scythe. Maour and Toothless took the time to make many small improvements, and one big one. The scythe would be made using this smoky purple metal, and the navy-blue staff Maour had had for months. That, Maour reflected as he twirled the staff, was what they were going to be doing today. Finally making the new scythe.

The sun had risen. Maour turned to Toothless. "Looks to be about time. Ready to become a random lump in the forest?" He was smiling. This always looked hilarious.

Toothless sighed. 'If I must.' He turned and located a depression in the forest floor, proceeding to sit in it, making himself small.

Maour grabbed a bunch of branches and pine needles and covered Toothless. When he was done, he suppressed a laugh. "What do you think?"

Maour quickly turned so that he was looking at a similar but entirely natural lump nearby on the forest floor. He could feel Toothless access his senses.

'Looks very realistic. Nice job.'

Maour smiled and walked over to the natural pile. "Don't move." He jabbed the staff down into the pile and Toothless gave an embarrassing squawk of alarm, thinking his rider was stabbing him.

Hiccup smirked. "Oops. I did so good of a job that even I forgot which pile was the real one."

Toothless groaned. 'I am officially promising, before we take off, to play with you like a cat playing with an injured rabbit. Now show me my cover for real.'

Maour smiled in victory as he turned.

'That's me, right?'

Maour figured the fact that Toothless couldn't be sure meant he had done a good job. "Yup. That one's you. It isn't suspicious at all, except for the weird noise it made a second ago."

'Keep talking, rabbit, and see what happens.'

Maour chuckled as he walked out of the small patch of forest, and across the fields to the village. "You sounded like a large chicken. A chicken with a deep voice." He was trying to keep a straight face and failing, gesturing for emphasis as he walked.

'No comment.' Toothless seemed to be trying not to laugh. 'Let's focus on the task at hand.'

"Sure, when we get there. For now, let's talk about your chicken impressions."

'Shut up. Or I'll tell Von about the noise you made when I accidentally stepped on you. Maybe get you to recreate it.'

Maour winced. "Shutting up." Toothless laughed. Maour had reached the village anyway, and he didn't really want to be seen as crazy here. He had to come back every once in a while. A reputation for being crazy would be annoying.

He walked through the town, heading for the blacksmith. One of the nice things about this particular village was that they had a thriving trade business. As such, there were always a few foreigners around. No one questioned who Maour was, or when he had gotten there. They were used to unfamiliar faces. It made Maour feel safer, hidden in anonymity. He entered the blacksmith's shop and hung up his flight coat and gloves, putting on an old apron. "What have you got for me this time, Framja?"

Toothless had to comment, though he knew he wouldn't be heard. 'And make it quick, we have work to do!'

"Rude." Maour muttered to himself. Framja turned and smiled.

"Always good to see you, Maour. I've only got two swords; they're meant for a wedding ceremony and need to be engraved. That's it, business has been slow. Got any personal work today?" She eyed the purple metal and navy-blue staff he had set by his things. "Something interesting, from the looks of that. Never seen wood that color." She was of course already familiar with the metal. Maour smiled.

"Yeah, I still don't know what kind it is." He picked up two plain swords from off of the table Framja reserved for weapons needing detail work. "Anything specific?"

Framja shook her head. "No. Standard Viking wedding work."

That was fine. Hiccup quickly got to work. He knew what to engrave because he had done this before, and all Viking ceremonial swords tended to be unique in craftsmanship and quality, but not engraving. Vikings weren't the most imaginative people in the world. He set to work and finished them in about an hour. Now it was time for the scythe. He and Toothless set to work, Maour forging, and Toothless advising on the heat, and a few other things. Maour had set the schematics where Toothless could see them, in the hollow before Toothless had settled in. If he needed a reminder, he just accessed Toothless's vision for a moment. They worked, ignoring all else.

It might have seemed a bit odd if one was watching, as Maour was basically holding a conversation with himself, but the noises of the forge drowned him out, so unless one was watching very closely, it wouldn't be apparent. That was good, because for something this complicated, Maour and Toothless had to work together as efficiently as possible.

An extremely complex mechanism with a sharp edge took shape, and then another. Then there was a concave spike, also with a hinge on the end. Maour made two of those. These incredibly minute specifications took an extraordinary amount of time to shape, but he made them without flaw, knowing he could not afford to make a mistake with this rare metal. Finally, he made two pins, also out of the purple metal. That done, he attached the blades to the blue staff and slid the spikes into place. Finally, he threaded the pins through the hinge between the two pieces on each end, and flattened the ends, locking them in place. He held up the finished scythe.

"What is that?" That was Framja, who was staring in awe. It certainly looked impressive. "I've never seen any weapon like that." It looked like Maour's previous scythe, but the spikes were concave on the underside, and there was a subtle bulge where the two pieces of each blade were joined with a seemingly useless hinge. The blades did not rotate about the hinge; they were locked in place by something. Maour smiled.

"It's a weapon I call a Scythe. This one's an improved version of my last one." He placed his hand on the sides of the top blade piece of metal, near the hinge, and squeezed. The spike abruptly pivoted down and locked with an audible click against the other side of the staff. He did the same to the bottom. The spikes had been shaped to rest flush against the cylindrical shape of the staff. The weapon was in this form much more compact, and less likely to randomly stab things with the spike end. That had been the main improvement. When closed, the staff resembled nothing more than a rod with strange, unwieldy caps of sharpened metal. Not quite a spear, it didn't seem like a finished weapon at all. The hinges were only noticeable when one looked closely.

Maour held the scythe in its locked form with both hands. He spun it clockwise for half a rotation, then abruptly stopped it, which caused the two spikes to swing out and lock in place. From a half-finished weapon to deadly scythe in an instant. He laughed. "I wasn't sure if that'd work. Got it right first time."

Framja voiced her disbelief. "I don't know if that thing's safe to use."

Maour just smiled. "It isn't until you learn how. Watch." He walked to the back door and stepped into the alley. Plenty of space, and no one around to see or accidentally get hurt by him. "It's been a while."

He started swinging the scythe, slowly at first to be sure he still had the muscle memory. He did, and he was soon moving at top speed, eventually closing his eyes in concentration. He had missed this, the feeling of having a weapon he knew well in his hands. It was a feeling of safety and self-sufficiency. Not necessary right now, but maybe in the future.

'You still have the skill you developed all that time ago. Now you can start improving your skill with it again.' Toothless was extremely satisfied with the finished product he and his brother had ended up with. It had come out perfectly, despite a few snags in the process of making it.

"True," Maour agreed. He hefted the scythe and closed it. "So, Framja..?"

The female blacksmith shook her head. "You can use it. Why you want to is beyond me, but good for you." She hefted a hammer. "I'll stick to things that won't put my eye out while I'm using them."

Maour made to put the scythe into its holster, before realizing he didn't have a holster anymore. "Framja, you wouldn't happen to have any spare leather lying around, would you?"

"Some." Framja went back into the forge, and Maour followed. "Wha' do you need it for?"

"A holster." Maour took the proffered leather scraps and set about braiding them into something passable. He would probably make another, better one on their next trip out here, but this one just needed to do the job until then.

Maour was almost done with the impromptu holster when Toothless spoke up. 'Uh, Maour?'

"Yeah?" Maour cut a bit of errant leather off with a knife.

'You know the whole thing with numbers Fishlegs liked to do?' Toothless sounded confused.

"Plus three speed, and all of that?" Maour wasn't really sure why Toothless was bringing it up.

'Yeah, that. Is it common?' Toothless sounded almost urgent now.

"Fishlegs made it up, so no." Maour was beginning to get a bad feeling. He accessed Toothless's sense of hearing.

"...plus ten speed! We won't even see it if it doesn't want us to!"

"Relax, fishy, we are masters of infiltration-"

"-interrogation-"

"And exposition! Wait, no. Did we already say infiltration? I feel like there was a third 'i' word."

Maour felt a very odd blend of exasperation and slowly building fear. "That would be Fishlegs and the twins."

'But how are they here? Why are they here?' Toothless did not sound happy about that. 'They're getting closer.'

Both Maour and Toothless listened to Fishlegs and the twins argue as they walked past Toothless… and apparently gave up looking, right by his hiding spot. Perfect.

'This is bad.' Toothless probably wasn't happy about having to- 'One just stepped on me!'

"Did you move?" Maour wasn't sure what was going to happen.

'No.'

Maour hastily finished off the holster and put it on, settling his scythe into it. "I'm on my way."

'Why? They're probably here for you. Don't let them catch you.'

"We need to know how they found us, if they're here for me, which they are." Fishlegs had been talking about 'finding Hiccup' so that was pretty much guaranteed. He had not, however, spoken of capturing or killing Hiccup, which was slightly more encouraging.

As he spoke with Toothless, Maour began moving through the village, out of the forge and towards the distant forest. It would be a few minutes before he could get there.

'Maour, they're talking about surprising you… and finding me.' Toothless no longer sounded that worried. 'I think they're alone.'

That was at the same time both comforting and worrying. If those three were here, who was to say others from Berk weren't? Suddenly, every face needed to be checked, every Viking Maour passed a possible antagonist. He hurried his pace up a little. Until he knew what Fishlegs and the twins were doing here, and whether they were alone, Mahelmetan was not safe.

Something Toothless had said was brought back to Maour's attention. "Wait, they're looking for you?" Was Fishlegs really that stupid?

'Seems like it. They don't sound too worried either.'

"Well then, why don't you… keep them there?" Maour smiled. "If, of course, you're sure they're alone." It would be best to approach the situation from some position with the upper hand.

'One of them stepped on me a moment ago.' Toothless softly chuffed. 'Maybe I'll return the favor if they try to run.'

"This is a bad idea." Fishlegs turned in a full circle, trying not to be taken by surprise. "We are looking for a Night Fury. Why did I agree to this?"

"Because you trust us?" Ruffnut guessed.

Fishlegs glanced at Tuffnut, who was looking straight up into the tangled trees. "No, not at all."

"Because you were bored?" Tuffnut put his hands around his eyes, still staring up, as if to reduce the glare of the sun, though it was cloudy at the moment.

"Probably," Fishlegs admitted.

"Why are you complaining, anyway?" Ruffnut lifted a small rock and checked underneath it. "We haven't found it yet."
Fishlegs was too nervous to point out the unlikeliness of a dragon hiding under a rock the size of Tufffnut's head. "I won't have time to complain if it kills us!"

"Why would it do that?" Tuffnut walked straight into a tree, still looking up. "Ow!"

"Yeah, it's all buddy-buddy with Hiccup." Ruffnut smirked. "Can't imagine it's that aggressive." She moved over to a pile of leaves and old pine needles and began sifting through it.

"Ruffnut, it's not going to-" Fishlegs began, before being interrupted by Ruffnut stiffening. "What?"

"Are… there any other black rocks around?" Ruffnut asked frantically, scrambling back from the pile of pine needles. "Because if not…"

Fishlegs stared at the suspicious pile. "You found a scale?"

Ruffnut relaxed instantly. "Oh, right. A scale." She moved back to the pile and reached in. "A warm scale. Heavy, too. I can't move it at all."

Tuffnut gave up looking into the trees and began to pay attention. "Maybe it's stuck. Dig around it."

Fishlegs was beginning to get a bad feeling about this, though he didn't know why.

"Ooh, more scales. And skin between them!" Ruffnut moved to stand on the pile. "Leather over… here…" She trailed off, looking up with a horrible realization written across her face.

Fishlegs squeaked incoherently when the entire pile of leaves and pine needles exploded up and out, and Ruffnut rose about three feet into the air… sprawled across the lower back of a Night Fury.

Ruffnut looked down, and green eyes looked up at her. "So a lot of scales… and skin, and saddle, and live Night Fury." She looked around. "Any chance you can not throw me off?"

The Night Fury shook his head firmly.

"Then can you at least aim for something soft?"

In response, Ruffnut was bucked off, tumbling into Tuffnut, who was slammed against a tree by the impact. The Night Fury snorted in amusement.

"Thanks!" Ruffnut said brightly, getting up and dusting herself off. "And good aim."

"Night Furies never miss…" Fishlegs mumbled, regretting it instantly when the acid-green gaze was turned on him.

"Even when throwing smelly Vikings?" Tuffnut asked, woozily regaining his feet. "I think I inhaled some of her fumes."

Fishlegs supposed, with a kind of despairing acceptance, that it made sense the twins wouldn't be particularly worried right now. He was not so sure they were safe. It was well and good to say this Night Fury was probably fine, but facing it with no defense and no current proof was not so simple.

"So…" Ruffnut considered the situation. "Do we just wait for Hiccup?"

To everyone's surprise, the dragon nodded deliberately.

"Cool." Ruffnut started towards the dragon. "Can you give me a ride while-" She was cut off by a vicious snarl. "That's a no. Okay."

Fishlegs, only slightly encouraged by the reasonable responses of the Night Fury, slowly began to put a hand to his belt. His hammer was there, and he'd feel better with anything between himself and death by dragon, no matter how mediocre he might be with actually using the weapon.

"Rule number one of interacting with dragons," a familiar voice called out from behind Fishlegs. "Don't go for your weapon. They're faster than you, and watching for exactly that. If Toothless was hostile or actually felt threatened, you would all be-"

Fishlegs jerked his hand away just as a small plasma blast impacted in front of him.

Hiccup walked into sight, looking distinctly tense. "Dead. All because you went for a weapon, like any Viking would." The dragon nodded again, in agreement with that.

Fishlegs felt his face heat up. That was distinctly embarrassing. "Hey, Hiccup…"

"Well, we wanted a dramatic finale," Tuffnut muttered to Ruffnut.

"And boy are we getting one!" Ruffnut finished.

Hiccup ignored them. "Why are you here?"

This was a chance to defuse some of the tension, maybe. "We came looking for you."

Hiccup stiffened.

"Alone!" FIshlegs added hastily. "No one else even knows why we left, or where we were going."

"I'm more concerned in how you knew where you were going," Hiccup abruptly said, his tone threatening. "How did you find this place?"

"Trader Johann had a spyglass," and at that Fishlegs noticed the Night Fury shaking his head, "one like you make, but with different initials."

"Don't say it Bud, I know you told me not to do that," Hiccup muttered.

"What?" Tuffnut asked uncertainly.

"Not talking to you," Hiccup glibly responded. "That's it?"
"Well, we also found some people on another island that had run into you."

"Nice work, traumatizing people for life, H!" Ruffnut burst out. "Didn't think you had it in you!"

"That was your fault," Hiccup said, clearly addressing the Night Fury. "I might have started it, but it was you and Cloey who were on the roofs to start with!"

At the mention of an unfamiliar name, Fishlegs remembered the other piece of proof, and that he should probably say why they had come looking, though Hiccup seemed more concerned with how. He pulled out the book.

Hiccup saw it immediately. "Oh. That. Knew I should have kept it with me."

"We wanted answers," Fishlegs admitted. "This showed that there are things we don't know."

"If I remember where I gave up on that, you don't know anything," Hiccup remarked wryly.

"Which is why we came looking." Tuffnut grinned. "Thorstons can never resist big secrets."

"Even when they contradict everything you believe?" Hiccup challenged.

"Aren't those the best to know?" Ruffnut retorted.

"That depends," Hiccup replied seriously, "on what you plan on doing with the knowledge. If I know Vikings, you'll hear it, ignore it, and change nothing."

"Berk did." Tuffnut frowned, suddenly serious. "That's why we left. We," he indicated his sister, who nodded, "were going to leave anyway. We're not going back to Berk."

Fishlegs fidgeted. "I promised in a note that I'd be back, but what I plan to do really depends on what you tell us here."

"And what do you think I'll tell you?" Hiccup put a hand on the Night Fury's nose, absently, as if not even needing to look to know where he was. "I'll be honest, I don't trust you."

A moment of silence, broken by a warble.

"I did say that," Hiccup admitted.

No one responded. Fishlegs recalled that Hiccup was communicating with the Night Fury in some way, but he had assumed communication would involve some sort of noise. Grunts, growls, not a single warble. There was no way that one sound conveyed any sort of complex idea, like Hiccup seemed to be responding too.

They were communicating… or Hiccup was crazy, and thinking that they were communicating. The only evidence Fishlegs had that didn't fit that was that the dragon had nodded in response to a spoken question.

"Okay," Hiccup began, "Toothless wants to see what you guys can handle. But we both know it's not that simple. There are things he and I need to protect."

"We promise not to tell anyone?" That felt wrong. If this was important, why wouldn't Hiccup want the information spread around?

"Not good enough. I need time to think this over." Hiccup looked up at the bits of sky visible through the trees. "And an hour or two isn't enough."

"Well Hiccup, can you just stay here until you've decided?" That seemed reasonable.

"No, we have to go." Hiccup grimaced. "And that's not my name anymore."

"Yeah, what's with the S.F. Hiccup?" Ruffnut grinned. "Didn't know you liked nicknames now."

"I don't, and that is not my name." Hiccup shook his head.

"Tell us what is then," Tuffnut retorted, crossing his arms.

"You can call me… Maour." Hiccup seemed annoyed at that, and the Night Fury snorted. "I don't really have a choice!"

Didn't have a choice? With telling them a name? Fishlegs was beginning to think there was something more going on. As if that wasn't already apparent, but there seemed to be layers of secrets, things of different magnitudes. This was a small one, which was unexpected.

"Maour," Hiccup repeated. "I can come back in..." A pause.

"I can be back on the morning of the third day from now," Hiccup decided.

Fishlegs sighed. "Are you sure? We're going to be sleeping in the woods. Our money for a room is almost gone, and we need to eat, so the rest of it will have to go to food for those days."

"Yeah Hiccup, what's the big deal?" Ruffnut didn't seem unhappy about the wait as much as extremely curious.

"The issue is, there are things that must be kept entirely secret for safety. My safety, but also a lot of other people's too. And I will not endanger them by even telling you where we are. So I'll come back. There really isn't any other option."

That was interesting, but Hiccup wasn't done.

"Don't make me choose between you and them. You're acquaintances; they're way more. And the name is Maour." With that, he vaulted into the saddle, and the Night Fury launched itself into the sky. In moments they had broken through the trees and were rapidly flying away, out of sight.

"That was abrupt," Tuffnut noted. "I think we make him uncomfortable now."

"Bro, we're from Berk, and he's an outcast. Not to mention his ride being of the 'kill on sight' variety." Ruffnut stared after the rider and dragon. "I guess we're waiting."

Fishlegs didn't really mind that. Hicc- no, Maour, had dropped way more hints than probably intended with that last outburst, and he wouldn't mind time to think on them.

Of course, Maour explaining everything immediately would have been even better than time to think, but that wasn't going to happen, it seemed.

"Well, I guess we get to wait. Man, the next two days are going to be really boring." Ruffnut brightened as an idea struck her. "Hey, if we're going to be sleeping here anyway, why not build an awesome fort to do it in? We can make it the best fort ever, with two whole days to work on it!"
Fishlegs shrugged. Ruffnut was right, this was going to be a slow few days. He guessed he'd help the twins with the fort; it was true they needed somewhere to sleep and a way to pass the time. Two days. An eternity to spend in suspense.

Author's Note: Well, this one really is a cliffhanger. Sorry?