Hiccup really didn't want to go back out into the village proper. Even in the alley, the faint voices he could hear in those two conflicting languages made his head hurt. But he would have to learn to deal with it. Actually... "How do you stand it?" Maybe Beryl knew some trick to it that he could use.

Beryl huffed, staring out at the village. "Well enough. It gets on my nerves sometimes, but as long as it's mostly one or the other, you can ignore the minority language. When everyone is talking at the same time... really, just stay away from that."

So much for that hope. "Going to be hard to do that." Hiccup strode out of the alley, wincing at the increased noise. "Might as well get it over with."

He turned to face the largest crowd. "Yes, we're back. Nice to see everyone. Where's Stoick?" He may as well get some use out of the crowd gawking for no real reason.

"Right here!" Stoick shoved his way through the crowd, followed by Gobber.

Hiccup was amused by hearing Gobber scolding various Vikings for getting in the way. He idly stuck a hand behind him, ascertaining that Beryl was right there. "Good. Just wanted to tell you we're back."

"So?" Stoick was grinning. "How'd your little trip go?"

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, thinking of how to answer that. "Well enough, for the most part."

"Yes, and the rest was utterly horrific." Beryl snorted, shaking his head. He didn't really seem to be talking to anyone, not even Hiccup. More voicing his opinions.

Stoick only heard Hiccup. "Good, good. Anything interesting happen?"

"We went hunting a couple of times." Hiccup pulled out the coins he had shoved in one of his pockets, his sleeve catching on the hilt of one of his knives as he did, pulling it partially out of the sheath. "Made a bit of coin off of that."

Stoick nodded absently. "Aye, you would. But I thought I taught you better."

"Sorry?"

Stoick pointed at the knife Hiccup had accidentally pulled out. "Always clean your weapons. Blood isn't good for iron if left there."

Hiccup realized with a sick feeling that the knife he had pulled was his hunting knife. The one that had recently been buried in Vithvarandi's chest. Ember's chest. He hastily pushed it back into the sheath, paling slightly.

"Uh, yeah. Totally forgot about that. There was... a lot going on." He forced a grin. "I'll get right on that."

Beryl, understanding very well exactly whose blood that was, took charge and ushered Hiccup towards his house, by way of nudges and warbles only Hiccup heard as intentionally wordless sounds of encouragement. That was something else that differentiated the two languages, he noticed. Humans didn't have wordless sounds for certain concepts, like encouragement or consolement. Dragons did.

Gobber laughed, watching them. "I thought the 'ole idea was ta get 'im to be less protective."

Hiccup had no answer for that. That had, technically, been the plan. It had failed about as miserably as any plan he had ever made. It might actually have set a new record for how badly a plan could fail, to be honest. No progress on that front whatsoever. They'd be lucky if Beryl didn't get more protective.

They made their way up the stairs of the hill outside the Great Hall, turning off the main path to reach the Chief's hut. Astrid stopped them just outside it.

"We need to see you in the arena tomorrow." Her voice was clipped, and it was clear she still wasn't happy about how Hiccup had spoken in the cove. "It's important. Be there." She stormed off, braid swinging behind her.

"Okay, uh, see you... tomorrow." Hiccup sighed, turning to face the door.

"Great." Well, it wasn't like he had anything else to do. They had left as soon as he had recovered enough, so there really wasn't any precedent for what his place in the village was now. Was he still the blacksmith's apprentice? The other teens had been formally assigned the task of dealing with dragon-related issues by Stoick. Though that had been more of a way to shut up the small group of Vikings who didn't like dragons living among them. Or, at the very least, redirect their consistently petty complaints to Astrid, who was in charge.

Would he be working under her? That was an odd question. He wouldn't mind, but something told him that wasn't going to be the case.

He and Beryl made their way into the house, moving up to his room, the loft of the building. Beryl looked around for a moment. "I hate wood floors."

"Why?" Hiccup drew the two knives he had never cleaned and began wiping them off with a rag and bucket of water they always kept around for cleaning. "I didn't think splinters would bother you."

Beryl jumped, before groaning. "I forgot you can hear me. To answer your question, I like to heat the places I sleep. Keeps my scales warm, and kills any pests. But I can't do that on wood."

Hiccup smirked, trying to keep his mind off of why the water bucket was turning a pale red. "I don't know, not many pests in a burning building. We never got termites, thanks to the raids. Rebuilding from the ashes every so often must have been a pretty good deterrent."

"Termites?" Beryl rumbled, settling down, clearly unhappy with the wooden floor. He glanced over at Hiccup, taking in the bloody knives. "What are termites?"

"Bugs that eat wood." Hiccup had finally gotten the blood off of the smaller knife. He set that one aside.

"What does wood taste like?" Beryl was visibly considering it, eyeing an exposed knob of wood on the posts of Hiccup's bed.

Hiccup could almost feel Beryl deciding whether or not to find out for himself. "Not good, I think. We can't eat wood. If we could, Vikings wouldn't make their houses out of it, and dragons wouldn't bother hunting. Trees don't run." He wanted to laugh at the way Beryl's expression slowly drooped, his partially open mouth closing in disappointment. Apparently Beryl had thought better of it.

"Oh well." Beryl shifted again.

"Bud, if it really bothers you, I think we can get a stone slab up here." Hiccup was understanding far more clearly why Beryl was always uptight in the village. He'd fix the causes that were within his power to fix. Whether or not moving a flat piece of rock big enough for a Night Fury both indoors and up to the loft would be easy. He'd do it anyway. Or, well, he'd get Gobber to help him with it.

"That would be nice."

O-O-O-O-O

Hiccup and Beryl showed up at the arena bright and early the next day. Hiccup hadn't been planning on that, but it turned out that sleeping past dawn was far harder than he had expected.

Beryl wasn't happy with that turn of events either, which was why he was currently staring down, flicking his tail. It was a gesture Hiccup had rarely seen in his human life and had never put a name to until now. Embarrassment.

"Come on. Don't be embarrassed. I won't tell anyone." Hiccup smiled. "Who would I tell, anyway?" That had been possibly an interesting thing to wake up to. Apparently, Beryl was still...

Still. He did know about that, actually. He could remember Beryl doing it as a hatchling. He must have never grown out of it. Anyway...

"I keep forgetting you can hear me!" Beryl growled, angry with himself. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's fine. I don't mind at all. Waking up to you singing is much better than waking up to you barking or pulling the blanket off of me. Or peeing in the cave because you can't hold it."

Beryl froze. "I never... please, don't do that!"

"Sorry. It slipped out. Still." Hiccup was once again reminded the bulk of his memory wasn't his own. That last example had been from Beryl's childhood. Before he personally had even been born, in all likelihood, though he didn't know how much time had passed between Ember's death and the present day, so he couldn't be sure.

Either way, Beryl had nothing to be embarrassed about, in his opinion. It had been more of a humming, a wordless string of the emotions conveyed by the sounds that dragons used in place of words sometimes. Quite loud, to one who could understand, but almost inaudible to anyone else. Stirring, too. Like a heroic tale, the way Beryl did it. That had gotten Hiccup fully awake and raring to go. Not being a morning person, that was an impressive feat.

He decided to boost his friend's self-confidence with a bit of the truth. "Really, it was quite good. Is it something you practice, or do you make it up as you go?"

Beryl squirmed, his expression torn between embarrassment and pride. "It's something I practice. Kind of a... history, almost." He looked up, hearing something Hiccup couldn't. "We can talk about it later. They're coming. Remember, the No-scaled-not-prey can know nothing."

"Got it. By the way, I'd like to hear the whole thing later. You stopped as soon as you realized I could hear it." Hiccup smiled kindly, turning to face the arena entrance. They had been standing in the middle of the arena proper, and as the iron mesh above it was still in place for the moment, the larger dragons had to come in through the entrance arch. That hole in the mesh that Beryl had blasted was a stark reminder that the world had changed quite dramatically in the last few months. He and Beryl had blasted the old. The new was coming to replace, or in this case invalidate what remained. That was a large part of what the teens did now, really. Facilitating that exchange.

Though it was clear none of them saw it like that. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were the first ones there, oddly enough, trailed by their Zippleback. They hurried through the entrance, though both human and dragon components of that group drooped at the sight of Hiccup and Beryl.

Hiccup winced as Ruffnut and the Zippleback spoke at the same time. Even with just two voices, it was an audible discord that ran through his head like a vine of thorns, drawing his attention away from both speakers as the discord poked at him. Now that he was looking, he could see Beryl also wincing just slightly. It was becoming clear that knowing both languages was as much a curse as a blessing, whether the knowledge had been obtained by learning or by transplanted memory. It made much more sense now that few dragons wanted to learn.

Ruffnut spoke again, mercifully accompanied by silence from Barf and Belch, the Zippleback. "Are you okay Hiccup? You didn't even hear me."

"Yeah." Tuffnut dropped the satchel he had been carrying. "Usually you get ready to run whenever we mention pranking. To be fair, you are usually the target. This time you didn't even blink!" He turned to Ruffnut. "They're becoming desensitized. Do you know what that means?"

Hiccup spoke. "That you should stop bothering with pranks?"

Ruffnut frowned, face solemn. "Yes, I do. We must improve. Strive for even greater achievements!" She threw a satchel similar to the one Tuffnut had dropped away, hitting the wall of the arena. "Forget fake yak pies to throw at Snotlout! We need real yak pies!"

In the stunned silence that followed that declaration, Barf and Belch tried again. "Beryl." The heads spoke at random, cutting into and out of the words at will, carrying the flow of speech flawlessly between them. "You should never have learned the speech of No-scaled-not-prey. It makes you hard to talk to."

Beryl growled. "It was necessary, and I do not regret it." He cast a glance at Hiccup before continuing. "You chose not to learn. Was it because you did not want the frustration, or because you knew your charges do not say anything worth hearing?"

Hiccup winced, though the Zippleback didn't seem offended. The two heads nodded. "True, on both counts. They are simple, as are we. There is no difficulty between us. And no painful discord from knowing both languages."

"Yeah, same here." Hookfang, Snotlout's Monstrous Nightmare, strutted into the arena, his back slightly aflame, though the flickering fire died out as he entered. "Mine would be more annoying if I knew what he was whining about all the time."

"I believe we have told you." Beryl sighed, his tail swishing in impatience. "Many times. He is not fireproof. That is quite clear, whether or not you understand him."

"He just needs toughening up!" Hookfang rumbled contentedly. "He will get used to it eventually."

Hiccup inferred from Hookfang's dissipating flames that he had recently put that theory into practice. Snotlout would likely be along as soon as he put himself out.

"I wish I knew what those noises meant." Fishlegs and Meatlug had entered the arena. Fishlegs stared curiously at the dragons.

Hiccup responded without thinking, gesturing offhandedly at Hookfang. "Nothing important." He winced as Beryl whacked him with a seemingly-errant tailfin, realizing he had said too much, "or at least I don't think so. Not right now, anyway."

Meatlug grumbled, looking around the room. "He is supposed to be our advocate, Beryl. Why does he say we speak nothing worth hearing?"

Hiccup realized that unlike Barf and Belch or Hookfang, Meatlug clearly did understand both languages, as Beryl did. He'd need to be more careful around her.

Beryl shook his head. "He meant not at the moment. I know for a fact he does not believe that of all dragons. It is the same for me to say the twins are not often worth listening to. I am not condemning the species."

"But we know No-scaled-not-prey are not animals. They do not believe the same of us. Except for yours. He at least understands, I had thought. Even my charge does not truly believe. It is hard to change minds when they cannot hear one try."

"Why does it matter?" Stormfly twirled through the hole in the iron mesh, dropping to the floor with a self-satisfied squawk. She began preening her wings, eyeing Beryl. "My charge is the alpha. She is the one who matters." Another squawk. "What yours think is of no consequence."

"She is only alpha of these few." Meatlug buzzed towards Stormfly, her tiny wings blurring. She dropped in front of the taller and more colorful dragon, frustration clear in the way she moved. "And we must live with all of them, not just your charge. So they all should understand."

Hiccup jumped as someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Woah!" He turned, seeing Astrid with a very unimpressed look on her face. "Sorry, I was-"

"Completely zoned out." Astrid lifted a fist threateningly. "Did you hear a word we were saying?"

Hiccup thought back. Once he had started listening to the dragons talk...

He had heard the other conversation, Astrid talking to the rest of them. He just hadn't truly understood. Like with the dragons before, their voices made no sense. Apparently, at best it was one or the other at any given time. That was still better than the discomfort of both canceling each other out. "No, sorry."

"Ugh." She turned, pointing at Tuffnut. "Report. Again. Someone wasn't listening."

Tuffnut snapped to attention, overdramatically so. "Yes, sir!" He didn't seem to notice Astrid's scowl. "The Thorston survey counts one-hundred and twenty-eight wings currently within the village. One-hundred-thirty with the return of our wandering adventurers here."

"Wings?" Hiccup was amazed Astrid had gotten the twins to work at all. But work that involved counting? Something was very, very wrong here.

"Yeah, I checked." Fishlegs tossed Astrid a large sack, after pulling something out of it. "There are seventy-two left, minus the two I just took out, so seventy. I made sure they didn't 'borrow' any left over."

"We resent that. Those are great!" Ruffnut pointed at the two objects in Fishlegs' hands. "How much for those?"

"These are for Toothless, not you." Fishlegs looked over at Hiccup. "We marked all of the dragons with this paint, a blob on the edges of their wings. It helps the village distinguish between which ones live here and which are just passing through. That way they don't complain about the ones passing through when we can't do anything about them."

Hiccup looked around and noticed that there were indeed splotches of orange paint on the wings of all the dragons present. None of them seemed to really notice it.

"That's demeaning!" Beryl snarled at Fishlegs, backing away.

"Agreed." Meatlug sighed. "But they would not be dissuaded. I was stuck explaining and apologizing to everyone all week, as the only one who knew the reasoning behind it."

Hiccup agreed. It was very similar to the way some Vikings marked their sheep, to prevent mixups. "Fishlegs, that's not a good plan."

"Why not?" Fishlegs looked hurt, the bags of paint dangling from his hand. "I came up with it. It works, everyone is happy with it-"

"Does he look happy?" Hiccup pointed at Beryl, who was still shying away, teeth bared. "I know I wouldn't be if you walked up to me and threw paint on my arms. Especially if I couldn't wipe it off."

"They get used to it." Snotlout smirked at Hiccup. "Too bad you don't have a Monstrous Nightmare. Hookfang doesn't even care."

"That's because he keeps burning it off, Snotlout." Fishlegs raised the bags of paint. "I'll just-"

An angry snarl cut him off.

"Nope, nevermind." Fishlegs took in Astrid's stony expression. "Here Hiccup, maybe he won't disembowel you."

Hiccup didn't even bother protesting as Fishlegs shoved the paint bags into his hands. Fishlegs clearly wasn't the driving force behind this, even if it had been his idea. "Astrid. This is demeaning."

"We need a way to tell them apart. Why should your dragon get out of it?"

Great. She was clearly angry at him for, well, everything recently. Still. "For one thing, he's the only Night Fury around. No one's going to mistake him for another dragon. And besides, he clearly doesn't like the idea."

"Neither did Stormfly. We all dealt with a little opposition, but they calmed down soon enough." Her voice went cold. "I am in charge of all dragon-related affairs, according to the chief. This is what's happening."

Hiccup didn't want to challenge her. That was not going to help anyone. But she was wrong. It was demeaning, and he wouldn't-

"Just do it," Beryl growled. "I don't like it, but she isn't backing down."

Hiccup spoke aloud, raising one of the bags of paint, and setting the other on the ground. "I'm not doing anything to Toothless," he remembered to use the name they knew, "that I won't do to myself." He broke the bag of paint, quickly and thoroughly spreading the orange mixture across his right arm. "Toothless? Do you mind?"

Beryl stared at him for a moment before offering one of his wings. Hiccup spread the other bag of paint in a rough circle on one of the edges.

Hiccup took in the shocked and in one case angered faces around him. "There. We've been marked. Can we move on?"

Tuffnut snickered. "Boy, that trip must have been something else."

"Yeah. Hiccup the rebel." Ruffnut didn't seem too engaged in the normal craziness for once. She almost looked thoughtful, an emotion foreign to either of the twins. Apparently he had gotten through to her, if no one else.

Snotlout burst out laughing, pointing at Hiccup's dripping arm. He didn't seem to have any rude comments to make though, which was a small mercy. Astrid, on the other hand, turned beet red, visibly restraining herself from doing anything other than angrily spinning her ax. "We'll talk about this later."

Not if Hiccup had any say in it. This was almost deja vu. Hiding something, getting Astrid mad, avoiding her rage. It felt like just yesterday he'd been doing the exact same thing, albeit for different reasons.

After a moment, Astrid turned to Snotlout. "Do you have the list?"

"Yeah, my dad helped me with it." Snotlout raised a fist triumphantly, before deflating. "He thinks this was my idea. You'll go along with that, right?"

"Feel free to tell him it was. Everyone else knows the truth though, so I wouldn't count on him believing it for long." Astrid spoke over Snotlout's muttered comments, looking at the parchment he handed her. "There aren't too many names here. You're sure this is all of them?"

"Yeah. Dad knows Ack, and Ack heard Mildew talking about how many Berkians were against 'giving the village to the dragons.' He didn't have any problems getting the info from Ack. No one knows about Spike yet, aside from you guys."

"Who's Spike?"

"Obviously my dad's dragon, duh! He got one after you left." Snotlout spun on the twins. "Not one word out of you."

"Sure. How about several? Or we could just go play with Spike, the pink Terrible Terror." Tuffnut took off, pursued by Snotlout.

Hiccup held in a snort, watching them run in circles around the arena. "So Spitelout changed his mind?"

"Yeah, he was dead set against dragons, but apparently Spike wouldn't leave. The way Snotlout tells it, the Terror begged to stay. I think it probably just didn't feel like leaving such an easy source of food." Fishlegs shrugged. "I haven't bothered telling the Jorgensons that Spike is a girl. They'll figure it out eventually."

"Or not, knowing the Jorgensons." Astrid cracked a thin smile. "This list will help us figure out which complaints are real, and which are just Mildew and company griping and making up stuff."

"How bad is that? I figured they'd settle down once it had been a few months."

"Hiccup, it had already been like four months when you woke up. How much longer did you think it would take?" Astrid shook her head. "No, they're set against them. Mildew knows how to gather crowds. He's gotten more insistent recently. Especially since you left."

"What's his angle?" Hiccup was met with several blank stares. "You know, how he plans on changing public opinion?"

"I don't really know. We try to ignore him. You can always listen to one of his little rants today. He's in the village all the time now." Astrid stuck her ax out, forcing Snotlout to choose between stopping his pursuit of Tuffnut or losing a leg or two in the chase. Snotlout chose the former, in a rare show of self-preservation.

"We're going on patrol of the village. Move it or be stuck cleaning the arena." With that threat, she vaulted onto Stormfly and eyed Hiccup. "Feel free to join us." Her voice was cold.

Stormfly had her own, slightly less subtle take on the situation. "Beryl, are you and your charge going to follow mine? She is their alpha. I guess that makes me ours if you do." Without waiting for an answer she took off, carrying Astrid out of the arena. They were followed by Snotlout and the twins, along with their dragons.

Fishlegs was sitting on top of Meatlug, but she wasn't moving. She was instead eyeing Hiccup. At length, she spoke. "Beryl, I apologize for my earlier words. Your charge does treat you, and by extension us, as equals." She buzzed off, finally heeding Fishlegs' desperate requests to not be left behind.

Hiccup sighed, letting out the building tension. "That was... enlightening. They're always like that?"

"Yes." Beryl huffed, staring into the distance. "Astrid's follower is obnoxious. The twins' partners in crime are surprisingly level-headed, Snotlout's friend is clueless, and Fishlegs's grandmother is wise."

Hiccup's head spun. There had been a lot inferred in those words. First off, Beryl hadn't actually said any names. Astrid, for instance, had actually been 'fiery-female-alpha-material-no-scaled-not-prey', which, once he had recognized it, Hiccup's mind instantly translated to just Astrid. The same for the other teens. On the other hand, Beryl had been very specific in not naming the dragons, instead referring to them by their association with their rider.

He decided to inquire about that. "Bud, why in the world did you call Meatlug 'Fishlegs' grandmother?'"

"It is a habit for me. Their relationship is not one of rider and beast, though Fishlegs may not be aware of it yet. I call her his grandmother because that is how she treats him, and in some ways how he treats her. The same idea applies to all of the others."

So partners in crime for the Zippleback, just friend for Hookfang, and... follower, for Stormfly. Beryl really didn't have a high opinion of her. From what Hiccup had seen, he might be right. Astrid did treat Stormfly as a follower too, now that he thought about it. Not quite an equal. "What did you call yourself?" Specifically, how did he see Hiccup's relationship with him?

Beryl shrugged. "It doesn't mean much. And anyone who knows me calls me Beryl. But new dragons who don't know me personally... they call me your missing piece. And you mine. In reference to our literal missing pieces, I think." He shook his tailfin. "It will not be accurate forever. I think the fact that we use each other's names now is much more significant. Names might be a thing unique to our species. No other dragons I know use them."

Hiccup considered whether or not to point out that Flint hadn't had a name when he first met her. But that thought brought him back to thinking about her. This time, it wasn't sad so much as contemplative. He couldn't help but compare her to Astrid.

The two were... had been... similar, in some ways. Fierce, almost unforgiving in some ways. But Astrid seemed to value power, strength. Flint had not. She had demonstrated that multiple times. Astrid was direct and uncompromising. Flint had mellowed in that respect, especially after Spark had come around.

He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Astrid now. She clearly wasn't happy with him, but that would pass. Eventually. Faster if he tried to make it up to her, though he really didn't feel like doing that.

That was actually a red flag, right there. Old Hiccup would have been desperate to repair relations with the only person he liked in that way, and who might slightly like him back. Now, with Ember's perspective and life behind him, Hiccup felt no such urgency. In all honesty, the thought of dealing with Astrid in the future just made him tired, in a way that was deeper than physical fatigue. It also made his heart hurt. He couldn't help but compare this to his own father's life. Losing one wife and not taking another.

That was seriously messed up. But he wasn't going to hope that this feeling would fade. Nothing from Ember was fading. It was safe to assume it wouldn't at all if it hadn't started by now. Something Vithvarandi had said also supported that theory. She had spoken of the first form taken being especially important. Possibly because of this, this permanent change in memory and by extension perception? It couldn't be this way with every form. It would have driven Vithvarandi mad by now, taking form after form, all with their lifetimes of experience added to her own in such lifelike quality.

He didn't know enough to be sure of any of that and testing it was entirely out of the question.

O-O-O-O-O

They ended up wandering the village on their own, unaffiliated with Astrid's efforts. He and Beryl had easily agreed on that. Neither of them wanted to encourage Stormfly, and Hiccup wasn't particularly feeling the need to appease Astrid.

They did get a lot of stares. More than usual. Hiccup could feel eyes on him. "Bud, is there something on my back? A Terrible Terror or some such attachment?"

Beryl snorted. "No. They're staring at your arm."

"Oh, right." Hiccup lifted the arm that he had dyed orange. "Worth it."

"It was quite the statement." Beryl warbled appreciatively, weaving between three stumbling Vikings, all of whom were clearly drunk despite it being noon. "I do appreciate it."

"Anything for my... friend." Hiccup winced, hoping Beryl hadn't heard the pause.

"What were you going to say?" Beryl pulled them into a convenient alley so that Hiccup wouldn't be seen just randomly talking to himself.

So much for hoping Beryl hadn't noticed. Maybe he could play it off. "Nothing important. I just tripped over my words."

"Right." Beryl looked at the ground. "I think I might be being a bit... unfair."

"How so?"

"It isn't right to make you hide what happened, from me at least. Those memories are in your head. Whether I like it or not. It's selfish of me to make you censor yourself. Even if hearing stuff like that is a bit disturbing." He crooned apologetically, butting Hiccup's hip with his forehead. "Speak. Please?"

"I will, in the future. Trying to stop myself isn't working anyway. But this really was nothing." Hiccup didn't want to reveal that he'd almost called Beryl his hatchling. Even if he really was Ember, that would be rude now that Beryl was so clearly an adult. He'd need to get both sides of him adjusted to that. It was a relief that he didn't have to worry about upsetting Beryl with his... oddities.

"Okay." Beryl's ears tilted, and he began growling. "I hear shouting."

"Well, the smart thing to do would be to go the other way." Hiccup was smiling.

"But we're not doing that." It wasn't really a question.

"Nope."

They maneuvered their way through the streets of Berk towards the noise. Hiccup turned a corner and beheld exactly what he had expected to find. Mildew, practicing his rabble-rousing skills. He tried not to listen to the old man's ranting at first, before remembering that he had wanted to know. He began paying some attention with reluctance.

"...destroy our houses, burn our crops, corrupt our youth!" Mildew was almost foaming at the mouth.

"Is that all?" Hiccup murmured, annoyed. All of those problems had apparently been mostly fixed thanks to Astrid's efforts, from what he could see. Except for the 'corrupting our children' part, that was new. Who knew what Mildew meant with that one.

Mildew raised his staff, pointing into the crowd. "A perfect example!"

Hiccup looked around in confusion before realizing Mildew was pointing at him. "What? Sorry, I wasn't really listening."

Mildew got down, stepping off of the overturned cart he had been standing on. He advanced through the crowd, who parted before the angry old man with a stick. "You," he sneered, "started all of this corruption!"

"Corruption?" Hiccup smiled, not letting the old man get under his skin. "What corruption? If you're implying nepotism, I've got to point out Toothless doesn't give a rotten fish for who's chief."

"No, not like that! Corruption of the pure Viking way!" Mildew was getting close now.

Hiccup put a hand on Beryl's snout, a physical reminder that getting protective now could be a disaster. Attacking Mildew would mean no end to his capitalizing on that event. "Traditions change, Mildew."

"Aye, good ones broken and cast away by you and your friends!" Mildew sneered, now up in Hiccup's face. "And your father, too." His voice was sharp and venomous now. "He ignored a very important one. The one about setting runts out to sea to die. We all see the consequences of that."

Hiccup was speechless. Normally he might have retorted with sarcasm, or maybe just left.

The side of him that came from Ember knew leaving was a sign of weakness. Of acknowledging that Mildew was right. He wasn't in the mood to make light of what Mildew had just said either.

So, he chose a different path. "I'd think twice about that." His voice was cold. He shifted his stance, giving Mildew a good look at Beryl.

Mildew gasped, shocked by the fact that Hiccup's hand was literally on the dragon's teeth, fingers over his muzzle. Beryl was just barely restraining himself. Hiccup could feel the anger coursing through his friend's body, the tensing of muscles that came and went in waves, down to the muscles in his face.

He spoke louder. "I'd say Toothless has more self-control than I do right now." Hopefully, Beryl got the message. Hiccup removed his hand entirely and drew a knife. "Because you just crossed a line."

He didn't intend to use the knife, or even to threaten Mildew that much. But Ember's experience made him much less inclined to back down. Mildew might physically be his elder, but now Hiccup felt no intimidation whatsoever brought on by the man's weight in years. They were fairly close to equal now, as experience went. Drawing the knife was both a way of forcing Mildew to back down, and of proving a point. Beryl was restraining himself. Hiccup by all appearances was not quite as in control of himself. Let the dragon be the better man, metaphorically speaking.

The crowd murmured, a shocked and confused sound emanating from all around him. Mildew's eyes widened, as he looked from the boy with a cold look in his eyes to the dragon shaking with constrained rage. He visibly quailed, taking a step back. "Oy, are you threatening-"

"No." Hiccup put the knife away, his voice still loud. "I am not the kind of Viking to declare a blood insult for being told my father should have drowned me as a child." The murmuring in the crowd increased in volume, most of them just now realizing what Mildew had said. He met Mildew's eyes. "You like to stir up trouble. Be careful. Eventually, someone will do worse than ignore you."

Hiccup was very aware that Beryl was still on the edge of losing control. He was as well, a very rare occurrence for him. This needed to end before either of them was provoked further.

Help came in the form of Stoick himself, who barged through the crowd. From what Hiccup heard, Stoick had just arrived and was trying to figure out why everyone was standing around instead of working. He hadn't heard Hiccup or Mildew.

Mildew wasn't going to stick around and test that. He slipped into the crowd without another word, disappearing among the much bulkier Vikings, all of whom were now in a hurry to be anywhere else.

Hiccup walked away, heading nowhere in particular. Just away from the crowd. Beryl followed as he had hoped. In minutes they were at the edge of the village, on the border where the forest began.

Beryl had calmed down slightly. That didn't stop him from letting out his rage on a convenient target.

Hiccup stepped back and watched as Beryl tore into a rather large tree, slashing and even biting the trunk in pure fury. His own anger had dissipated much more rapidly, so he was content to watch.

Eventually Beryl calmed down, leaving the tree a mangled and scarred mess, dripping sap, the base of it littered with chunks and fragments of bark. He turned to face Hiccup, his pupils returning to the rounded squares Hiccup knew meant calm.

Hiccup spoke first. "Thank you."

Beryl shook his head. "For not defending you? I don't deserve to be thanked. You should be thanking me for tearing that-"

"No." Hiccup cut Beryl off. "I wish you could, believe me. But even he doesn't deserve to die for being a rude old man. I am thanking you for controlling yourself."

Beryl growled. "I shouldn't have to. He should not treat you like that. Among dragons, such an insult-"

"Is answerable by fighting to the death, the one who was insulted getting the first blow. I am well aware of that." Hiccup could remember watching several such fights as Ember, during the time they had spent in the company of other dragons at that place of nesting. He had thought it stupid then, and he still did now. Insults should not result in death.

"Right. Of course." Beryl sighed, sitting down among the wood splinters after burning the ones under him to ash. "What now?"

Hiccup groaned. "I have no idea. We get used to being in the village, I guess." It was strange, having no real responsibilities. "I guess I go back to working in the forge? Or maybe working with the other teens..." Which would involve working with Astrid. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

"Why?" Beryl swished his tail to clear a patch of burned wood, inviting Hiccup to sit beside him. "What holds you here?"

"It's..." He couldn't say home. Not when he also had Ember's memories to tell him he had another home, if he could ever find it. "Well, where my father is, for one thing. I kind of have to become chief when he retires." Or dies. That was more likely, given the Viking lifestyle placed little to no value on a peaceful death of old age.

"Is there anything else?"

"Astrid is here. However that ends up." Only time would tell.

"So your future responsibility, and Astrid." Beryl huffed. "Focus on those, if we must stay here. Astrid first, I'd say, since Stoick seems fine for now."

That was a good way of looking at it. "I'll do that." Something occurred to Hiccup. "Is there really nothing for you here?"

"You." Beryl's voice was sad. "You are all I have left at all, not just here. Everyone else is either dead or gone."

"Gone." Hiccup winced. "What happened to Spark?"

"When I was enslaved by the Queen, he escaped." Beryl bowed his head. "I bought him time to escape. I have not seen him since. He could be anywhere in the world, and I have no way to find him. Hopefully, he is still alive somewhere."

"Do you want to go and... look for him?"

Beryl's answer surprised Hiccup. "No. There's no point. It's been ten years since that day, give or take, and he had always wanted to explore. He is likely in some remote corner of the world, where no one will ever find him. We could waste decades searching, and you do still have ties here. I value family at hand more than the family who never even came back for me." His voice was a bit sad, and a lot bitter.

Hiccup could remember that what Beryl said of Spark was true, to a degree. While he had been cautious, he had also had an exploratory streak. But as for the rest... "Don't say that. He's still your brother."

"He left me there. Ten years, and not a single rescue attempt." Beryl looked away. "Can you blame me for not being happy about that?"

"No. But we will look for him, someday." Hiccup placed a hand on Beryl's head, behind his ears. "And you two can work that out when we do. I'll not have you hating him for leaving you when he might have an explanation. You owe him to at least hear him out."

"Is this Hiccup talking... or Ember's memories?" Beryl's voice was quiet and concerned.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Hiccup smiled. "Both. We agree on that subject. Actually, we had a lot in common."

"I believe that." Beryl stared out into the forest. His ears flicked as he thought. "Fine. Someday. First, we deal with your problems. Once that's solved, we can go looking for him."

"Hey, we'll be done in no time!" Hiccup's heart sank. He knew how that might work out. If they didn't go searching before he ended up becoming chief, they would never be able to go. He'd be stuck in the village, the weight of responsibility holding him there. But he didn't say anything. Because by then, Beryl could go looking on his own. That was how it probably would have to be, as much as he hated the thought of Beryl leaving on a long and dangerous search without him. It might have to be done.

But that was for the future. The past was mostly dealt with. The present was what they needed to focus on.

Was the past truly dealt with? Hiccup shuddered. They had escaped Vithvarandi, and that seemed to be over with. But the results of her actions were even now influencing everything he did. He wouldn't have handled Mildew that way without Ember's experience to back him up.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, having Ember's memories. Any help he could get was welcome.

Author's Note: The changes just having Ember's memories have caused are becoming more and more evident, I'd hope. Also, Astrid's attitude is indeed not a good one, but to be fair, she is being provoked. We'll see more of her next chapter.

On a side note, a hypothetical question: Would Hiccup ever have invented the fully automatic tailfin if Toothless had never shown a need for it? Not that Hiccup didn't want to make one, but whether or not he'd ever think of it without a reason to truly consider it? Necessity is the mother of invention (or so the saying goes).