Author's note: Hi guys! =)

I know, I know, it's been an awfully long time since I last updated this story, which I have not abandoned by the way, and it is only right that you get to know why…

I'm sorry.

I've had a ton of things to do. As far as I'm concerned, the past months have been a really awful period of trial and anguish for me, physically and psychologically. Partly because I had so much work to do (national orals to take, the exams of my last semester at university, planning my 8 months-long trip to Ireland...) and mostly because my Dad died on Friday, May, 13th. He was only 66.

I'm sure you will understand that writing was the last thing on my mind, given the circumstances.

Again, I am sorry for the wait. I am really, really sorry.

But, at the same time, I am happy that I finally felt like writing again, and I hope you will enjoy this new chapter that explains a lot more about…

I'll let you discover that on your own. =)

It was a fine afternoon in Dún Fionnachaidh and Hiccup was grateful for it. Not that he minded the rain that much since he spent his days locked up in the furnace that was Aileene's forge, working from dawn to dusk, but he was perfectly aware that customers were definitely more numerous when the weather actually allowed them to step outside. And as it turned out, Aileene was also considerably less aggressive when she sold a lot of weapons and pieces of armor. The equation was quite simple, really.

Hiccup had been working with Aileene for a couple of weeks already and, much to her pleasant surprise –or so he thought- he had actually managed to find his place rather quickly and, thus, to forge and repair more swords, axes, daggers and whatever blade he was asked to work on than she could have imagined. As a result, the forge was considerably less messy and the customers' orders had shot up. The young man remembered Holin's words: the only way he would get his freedom back lay in proving his efficiency within the forge. And that was exactly what he intended to do.

Aileene and Hiccup worked in different parts of the forge, rarely speaking to one another and respectively minding their own business. As far as he was concerned, Hiccup was more than willing to get to know her better, but it seemed she only wanted him to work and shut up.

He hammered away, still cringing from time to time because of the way his rudimental wooden peg leg bit into the sensitive skin it should have protected instead of damaging it even more. Hiccup really wanted to make himself a new prosthesis but he knew that if he used Aileene's materials for his personal needs without her permission, he would end up more injured than he already was. Still, he would have to do something about the splinters that kept suppurating. It was mainly because of them that he was still unable to sleep as much as he would have wanted to. He was still exhausted, but at least the regular meals Aileene provided him with were starting to put some meat back onto his bones.

Hiccup's eyes and mind were now completely focused on the double edged blade he would soon need to retrieve from the roaring flames. He scrutinized the metal, waiting for the exact moment its color would turn from a light pink to a deep red. He smiled fondly. As far as he could remember, this had always been one of his favorite moments in the process of sword-making. He loved these waves of changing colors that danced like liquid shadows and indicated the inner structure of the blade was getting hard enough to be hammered on without being broken. When he was satisfied with what he saw, Hiccup deftly seized the glowing blade and put it on top of his anvil when he realized, out of the corner of his eye, that a man was bending over the windowsill of the forge, apparently looking for something- or someone. Before he could utter a single word, however, Aileene had already made her way to where the man stood.

"You're early, Sorian." She told him bluntly. He smiled in return.

"And a good afternoon to you, too, Aileene."

"Yeah, yeah, hello, good to see you again, hope you're doing fine, whatever. Listen, I hate to be rude but I'm very busy and you told me not to expect you until a couple of days so-

"Would it really kill you to be nice for just a second? I did ride a few hundred miles to get back here, you know."

Just by looking at the way Aileene's shoulders rose aggressively with her breath, Hiccup knew she was already rolling her eyes in exasperation. Smiling, he couldn't help but chuckle as quietly as possible. Whoever that Sorian guy was, he liked him. Returning his attention to the blade he was working on so to not get caught by Aileene, Hiccup still pricked up his ears, deciding that a little eavesdropping wouldn't do any harm.

"Fine. What are you doing here?"

"The reason why I'm a few days early is that I've been sent to deliver," Sorian started explaining while taking a scroll that was kept closed with a wax seal out of the leather satchel he carried with him, "this message to General Holin. And judging by the price I've been paid to do that instead of attending the Gaillimh Races, believe you me, it must be awfully important."

"Oh. Do you know what the message is?"

"Haven't the foggiest. I was told not to have a flicker of a thought about opening it unless I wanted to die prematurely."

"Hmm. Well, if you want me to, I can deliver the message to Holin. He expects me to pay him a visit tonight."

"Oh, um, I'd rather not. Hey, don't give me that look! It's not that I don't trust you, Aileene, you know I do. I just don't want to get into trouble. Anyway, since I was in the area, I decided to drop by to see if you were done with the throwing knives I ordered."

The female blacksmith crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her head to the side and looking her interlocutor up and down as if he were asking for something especially monumental. "No, Sorian," she started telling him sternly, "your throwing knives are not ready because you just so happen to be what one usually calls early, remember?"

"If you're talking about the twin throwing knives that were supposed to be finished in, like, three days," Hiccup's voice suddenly piped up as he emerged from the back of the forge, wiping his right hand clean on his apron and carrying said weapons in the other, "I actually finished them last night, sheathes and all. Here you go," he stated with a proud smile upon handing them over to their new owner, "I hope they will satisfy you."

A rather awkward silence fell upon the building as Hiccup observed the respective reactions of the man and woman in front of him. Whereas Sorian looked delighted, the glare Aileene was giving her 'apprentice' was making the young Viking regret his words already. But before he could say anything else, though, Sorian burst into unrestrained joy after having taken a first look at his purchase, positively beaming.

"By everything that is sacred in this world and the other, Aileene, they're wonderful! Would you look at these grips! And how incredibly light the blades are! I swear I haven't seen such little beauties in years! You've really outdone yourself this time…," he finished in a whisper, running an appreciative finger over the smooth, unstained and shiny steel of the knives. "And may I ask who this nice young fella is?"

Hiccup smiled. "My name is-

"His name's Feren Rurikson, he happens to be my apprentice – and nobody asked me whether I wanted him to work here or not - and apparently," she spat angrily, "he still needs to learn that he's not expected to deal with customers I am already dealing with!"

"I just wanted to-

"I don't care! What the hell are you waiting for? Get back to work!"

"But-

"Oh, come on, Aileene; don't be so harsh on him. The poor lad only wanted to be nice." Sorian interjected, smiling heartwarmingly and extending his hand for Hiccup to shake. The latter took it with his trademark crooked grin.

"Thanks. Nice to meet you, Sir."

"It's a pleasure, Feren, and I thank you for your excellent work. Mind you," Sorian added with a hint of humor in his voice, "It's no wonder, considering the amazing tutor you got yourself."

Hiccup chuckled politely and, upon taking a brief look at Aileene who looked like she was about to bite his head off, quickly added that she was indeed an excellent teacher. He was hoping to get her to calm down a little bit but he was suddenly extremely surprised to notice that not only had her anger vanished in thin air but she also appeared completely incredulous, looking at him as if he were insane and falling utterly silent while Sorian kept talking.

"Ah, little marvels those knives are, that's for sure. Oh, by the way, here's the gold I owe you," he said, gently putting a reasonably large leather pouch on the windowsill, the content of which tinkling in a rather pleasant way, "And let me tell you that I have rarely been this happy to spend my money."

Since Aileene was making no move to grab the pouch, Hiccup seized it gently and put it immediately where the other coins they had earned that day were.

"Before I forget about it, Aileene, have you heard about the prisoners that have been sent to the Tower?"

Still looking at her apprentice as if she had just seen a ghost, the blonde woman looked up to meet Sorian's slightly darker gaze. She nodded, not really wanting to talk about that particular topic. "Yes…Rumor has it that they have already faced the Ravens' Tribunal. Do you think they will all be put in the Tower?"

There it is again, Hiccup thought. It seems I was right. That tower must be the place where Kiristi and the others have been taken to. Knowing this was the occasion he had been waiting for to get more information, he didn't hesitate for a second.

"Excuse me, but what exactly is that tower you're talking about? I mean, I know what the tower looks like and where it is, but what is its purpose?"

Both Sorian's and Aileene's faces grew suddenly very somber. The female blacksmith urged the man beside her to come inside the forge and brusquely closed the window behind the three of them. It was all Hiccup needed to see to understand he'd touched a nerve. And when Sorian spoke again, a bead of sweat was showing on his large forehead and his voice was nothing more than an agitated, extremely nervous whisper.

"You shouldn't ask that kind of questions out loud, young man. The Tower is home to one of the most disgusting 'spectacles' one can witness in Dún Fionnachaidh."

"A public toilet?"

"No, and if I were you, I'd avoid making cheap jokes like that."

"Sorry. Just trying to improve the atmosphere."

"Feren, the Tower is where most prisoners are sent after having faced the Ravens' Tribunal. It is also where General Holin lives. But mostly, the Tower is the place of execution for many hundreds. A temple of death. Scenes of living people forced to sit on those bloody perches and hang on for dear life until they have no strength left and fall from dozens of feet to crash and quite literally explode on the ground where their bodies are to be left until the crows have nothing left to devour."

Hiccup suddenly felt awfully sick.

Kiristi…

Hopping away as fast as he could, he grabbed an empty bucket and bent over it while his stomach violently rejected the images that had just formed into his mind. When he managed to actually open his eyes again, he somehow realized he was lying on the floor of the forge, his body still shaking slightly from the remaining spasms of disgust and horror. He could see the anxious face of Sorian hovering above him whilst he felt a pair of hands snake under his arm pits and lift his upper-body to urge him into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry lad. I didn't know you'd react like that upon hearing my words."

"No…No…It's just…-

"You should leave, Sorian," Aileene ordered, her tone indicating she wouldn't take no for an answer, "I'll take care of this."

"But, Aileene, this fella here is-

"Whatever happened to duty?"

"Now that's an excellent question."

"Sorian, I'm being serious! What about that urgent message you're carrying with you? I thought you were supposed to deliver it as soon as possible!"

"Oh, right. I'll just, um…I'll get going, then."

"Yes, that would be best."

Hiccup and Aileene watched silently as Sorian made his way to the door of the forge and opened it, but not before taking one last look upon his shoulder. "I also wanted to inform you that another rumor has it that the Thousand Wolves attacked the friary of Ceartlár. Again, I should add. Anyway, thanks a million for the knives, Aileene. Farewell to you both."

"Goodbye, Sorian."

It wasn't until Aileene was completely sure that he couldn't hear them anymore that she moved from her spot behind her apprentice's back to kneel in front of him, her icy eyes staring at him as if they could tear his very soul apart. Hiccup felt a shiver running down his spine.

"Let me see your leg."

Hiccup's green eyes grew wide with genuine fear and he immediately lowered his gaze to see why she was asking such a thing. He felt his throat constrict painfully. His left leg was bleeding again. The wound must have been reopened when he'd started hopping to grab that bucket. Judging by what little he could see, the wooden peg leg had torn through the fragile skin of his injury. He almost felt the need to throw up again. When Aileene's fingers lifted the fabric of his pants to get a better look, he involuntarily recoiled, much to her impatience.

"Feren, stop being such an idiot and let me see your leg unless you want me to knock you out first!"

She sounded so much like Astrid and she didn't even know it, Hiccup thought. He calmed down, almost unconsciously; it was the only thing he could do to help her. He utterly hated depending on someone else to attend to his leg but his hands were still shaking and, he noticed when touching his forehead, he felt terribly cold; something he realized with his usual sarcasm must have been kind of an exploit when one was sitting next to the fire of a forge. The fact that he must have been feverish did not even cross his mind until Aileene pointed it out for him. Helping her apprentice to his feet and allowing him to use her for support, she led him outside the furnace and into the narrow streets after having made sure that nothing could catch fire within the smithy.

When the both of them stopped walking, Hiccup felt as if his body itself was entirely made of steel. He couldn't remember for the life of him just how they had ended up in front of what appeared to be Aileene's dwelling-place. He was only trying to concentrate on preventing himself from slipping into unconsciousness.

And when Aileene's voice started to resound like a far-away echo all around him, he knew he had failed.

When he came around again –and to be quite honest, he was getting really fed up with blacking out every now and then - he was lying in a rather comfortable bed, very different from the one he usually slept in, in the backroom of the forge. He looked all around him, trying to recognize his surroundings. He didn't. The room he was in was pretty spacious and several windows allowed a fair amount of light to illuminate it. The soft, golden, orange glow that allowed him to see particles of light floating in the air indicated it must have been sundown. Next to the bed was a small wooden table on which some clear water and clean bandages had been put. Looking down, Hiccup realized with a start that he was wearing a new, clean tunic. Remembering his leg with a jab of fear, he cautiously lifted the blanket of wool that covered most of his body…only to let a very much relieved sigh escape his lips. The wound had been cleaned properly and it wasn't throbbing so much anymore.

However, he mused, the fact that he wasn't wearing anything on his lower body except for his undergarments unsettled him a little. He was starting to ponder about where on earth his clothes were when the door was brusquely kicked open by none other than Aileene, carrying a wooden trail on which something smelled incredibly good. The blonde woman grumbled as she slammed the door shut again, mumbling incomprehensibly. Then, glancing in the opposite direction, she spotted her apprentice fumbling unsuccessfully with the blanket and sheets of the bed as he tried to cover his body in a very self-conscious attitude that, had it not been for the more than serious circumstances, she might have found endearing. But right now, he just looked stupid.

"For God's sake, Feren, you could be my son! Would you stop acting like a prepubescent idiot? It's not like I haven't seen naked men before, you know."

He knew, but in all honestly, he simply didn't know what he could reply to that. So he just watched, his eyes as wide as they could be, as she came to where he was, putting the wooden trail on the small table in a manner that was neither brutal nor gentle. And then, he realized she was getting closer to him.

"Hey, hey, what are you going to- Hey! I refuse that-

"You have nothing to refuse, just shut your mouth already."

Definitely not waiting for his permission for she knew her apprentice would freak out about it, Aileene lifted the blanket under which he was trying to hide so she could see his leg, blatantly ignoring the young man's protests about her intruding on his private space. She allowed one corner of her mouth to curve up; the wound had stopped bleeding and she could see no sign of pus or any other body fluid that would indicate Feren was still in danger. Satisfied with her work, she let go of the blanket and let him cover himself up so clumsily that she couldn't help but chuckle.

Hiccup froze. He was pretty sure he had just heard Aileene laugh. At his expense, yes, but the sheer discovery of it was so unexpected and incredible that he instantly forgot about his self-consciousness. It was the first time in weeks he'd actually seen a positive expression crossing her features…so to speak, since she was always wearing the odd veil that prevented him from seeing her face.

Again, he wondered about that because the other women he had seen in the streets of Dún Fionnachaidh as they passed by the forge did not wear such a strange piece of clothing. Judging by the rest of Aileene's body, he could tell she was a beautiful woman, so why would she want to hide her face behind a veil?

Aileene motioned for her apprentice to move just a little bit so she could sit on the edge of the bed.

"It's a nasty wound you've got there, Feren. You should have told me it was getting infected."

Hiccup couldn't believe his ears. Did the female blacksmith actually care about him? He observed her for a moment, and he thought she looked a bit nervous. It might have been his imagination, but he was almost sure she was trying to find the words she was going to use next. He chose to keep silent, wondering what exactly what was bothering her but not wanting to rush her at the same time.

He didn't have to wait that much.

"Why did you tell Sorian I was an excellent teacher? I haven't taught you anything and I haven't exactly been nice to you those past few weeks."

Hiccup smiled.

"Well, you did teach me that a woman could be a blacksmith, and an amazing one at that."

She frowned, looking like she wasn't convinced at all. "You are an unusual young man, Feren. You and I both know that you're a better smith than I am. Yet, you act as if you were really my apprentice. So why exactly do you work so hard at the forge? You could just relax and do the work any tutor would expect his apprentice to do, but you keep on doing more. Why do you work as if your life depended on it?"

"Because," Hiccup simply replied with a tired smile, "It does depend on it."

"Explain."

"I thought you didn't care about either my past or my future." He quipped, reminding her of the words she had used upon first meeting him. For one second, he thought she was going to hit him but she only crossed her arms in front of her chest in a defiant manner, telling him not to push his luck. He complied.

"You know I am not from Ireland. I was shipwrecked and somehow ended up on an Irish beach; it was next to the village of Teilann…providing there still is a village after Holin and his men attacked it."

Aileene was starting to understand. "Let me guess. You're a prisoner."

"Indeed I am. When Holin's men captured me, I told them I was a good blacksmith in the hope that it would prevent them from killing me. And, well," Hiccup concluded softly as he remembered the cruel fate that awaited Kiristi and the other prisoners, "So far, so good."

"But that doesn't explain why you're saying that your life depends on how well you work at the forge."

"That's because Holin promised that if I succeeded in proving I really am the useful, skilled smith I told him I was, then," the young man explained with a sense of desperation and hope burning in his green eyes, "he would consider freeing me... I only want to get home."

Aileene frowned, but whether it was because of what he just told her or something else, Hiccup did not know.

"I see…," she simply said while handing him the wooden trail she'd previously carried with her into the room. There was a simple bowl on it, but the soup that filled it was hot and smelled so good Hiccup's stomach immediately groaned in approval.

He apologized, smiling, and she shrugged it off, telling him to help himself. None of them talked while he was eating and it was only when the bowl was completely empty that Aileene dared to utter the other question that had been tugging at her mind.

"How did you get this?" She asked, designing the young man's stump with her right forefinger. He looked down for a moment, quickly remembering the ferocious battle during which much was lost but more was gained. He didn't want to lie to the blonde woman beside him, but he knew he couldn't tell her the exact truth either so he chose to give her the simplest and most elusive answer he could think of.

"A dragon."

"Oh. Must have been painful."

"You mean when he ripped my leg off? Can't say. I wasn't conscious."

"You don't sound like you resent that dragon that much."

Hiccup looked at Aileene incredulously and then burst into unrestrained laughter whereas she thought he had suddenly lost his mind. When he calmed down, Hiccup had one of his brightest smiles gracing his tired features.

"Resent Tooth- I mean, how could I resent that dragon? He saved my life. But enough about me. If I may ask this, Aileene…why do you hide your face behind that piece of old fabric?"

Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. Aileene's deep blue eyes unexpectedly brimmed with tears of what he assumed were hatred, despair and anguish. Hiccup noticed the way her shoulders started shaking uncontrollably. She looked like she was about to implode but was all of a sudden unable to form a single word. Her breathing accelerated so much he was sure he could almost hear the thumping of her heart beating violently against her ribcage.

Rising to her feet without giving any kind of answer but still betrayed by her body language, Aileene turned her back on his apprentice as she slowly walked over to one of the windows of the room.

"You will stay here tonight. Try to get some rest."

"But…What about you? Where are you-

"Bloody hell, Feren, that is none of your damn business! Why can't you just accept things the way they are? Why do you constantly feel the need to search for answers that should never be revealed, regardless of the harm they may do?"

"Because I have seen the disasters that 'accepting things the way they are' without questioning them can lead to."

The both of them stared at one another for a moment before Aileene snorted in disbelief and – Hiccup was now sure of it – hurt. "Tell me, Feren, would you still say the same thing if disaster had struck already? Because this," she told him ferociously whilst slowly starting to remove the veil from her face, "Is not something you can change."

The veil was lifted.

Hiccup's jaw dropped as his eyes widened in pure shock and instant horror.

"By Odin's Eye…," he barely whispered, all of a sudden able to see through her harsh and cold behavior, "Who did-

"Why does it matter? Why should you care? Why would you care?"

"Why did you care about my leg? You could have simply ignored it but you did not."

"It's not the same."

"Yes it is. And even if it wasn't, I don't need a reason to care for you. But you have to let me care, Aileene. I know it's not like I can do much…but if there's something I can do, then please let me help you."

"You don't understand. It's too late, Feren. It's simply too late."

She walked away from her apprentice, deliberately preventing him from answering anything and carefully replacing the piece of fabric in front of her features again. She could feel his distressed gaze upon her until the very moment she closed the door behind her and headed for the Tower of Dún Fionnachaidh.

The night had fallen for a little while already when Aileene eventually reached the highest level of the Tower, the exact place where General Holin's private quarters were. She felt sick and tired but it wasn't like she had any choice.

Ignoring the more than obscene motions the guards made, sniggering disgustingly, as she passed by them, the fair-haired woman came to a stop in front of the massive door that would led her to her destination. There, sitting on a rudimentary stool was a rather young soldier who occupied himself by sharpening his dagger with just as much method as she would have, and that was definitely saying something. He didn't deign looking up at her, either pretending he had not seen her yet or, if he had, thinking she wasn't worth the effort. Whatever the case, she was not in the mood to have a meaningless conversation with a subaltern officer.

"General Holin is expecting me."

The soldier stopped his sharpening session with a snicker and Aileene instantly noticed his face wasn't familiar at all, which was really odd since she knew for a fact Holin wasn't one to change his habits in the blink of an eye, and it was exactly the same when it came to the soldiers he chose to guard his personal room.

"Yes, he told me to let you get inside."

"So would you mind opening the door?"

"Hey, I'm not stopping you."

Aileene wanted nothing more than to make him swallow his words there and then for humiliating her like that, but he obviously did not care and Holin wasn't known for his patience. Not even when it came to her. Forgetting about the guard who couldn't help but wish her a 'good night', she opened the massive door and quietly made her way towards the General's bedroom.

When she finally spotted him, he was leaning against the wall watching the sun set over Dún Fionnachaidh, drinking a glass of wine. His long red hair was cascading down his torso, the bulging muscles of his shoulder blades making her feel like a hopeless prey.

He was almost completely nude already, and even though his athletic body could have looked beautiful and attractive to another woman, Aileene only wanted to throw up. She stopped by the edge of the wide bed she had come to hate more than anything else in the world, knowing Holin was perfectly aware she was there.

"Would you like to share a drink with me, Aileene?"

Lord, she hated him so much. The mere sound of his voice was enough to give her goose bumps, and pleasure certainly had nothing to do with it.

"You know I don't drink. Why did you attack the village of Teilann?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because."

"How can you say that? People died for nothing because of you! You have no honor, Holin. You're nothing but a bloody bastard and if-

He moved too fast for her to realize straight away what he was doing and before she knew it his powerful hand was coiling around her neck, the unspoken threat crystal clear in his furious eyes.

"You forget your place, woman. Let me remind you that I only need to snap my fingers to seal your fate."

She didn't reply anything, focusing on her breathing instead of his words. Satisfied with her submissive silence, Holin lessened the pressure little by little, slowly releasing Aileene's neck to let his hands wander shamelessly under her tunic. He could feel shivers running down her spine.

"By the way," he continued with the tone of a pleasant conversation whilst forcing her to arch her head so his mouth could get more access to her neck, "How's that apprentice of yours doing?"

She swallowed with difficulty, the caring face of Feren passing briefly in front of her mind's eye whilst she felt the General's hands brushing against her breasts under her tunic, and familiar revulsion surged to every part of her body at once. "He's doing fine," she told Holin, trying her best to sound nonchalant when all she wanted to do was run away from him and his ugly fingertips. "He's a hard worker, dynamic, efficient and he's also a better smith than I ever was."

She felt him chuckle madly against her collarbone, not even bothering to stop peppering her sensitive skin with rough kisses that made her recoil with disgust and shame.

"Then this may well be the first time I won't regret having had mercy for a prisoner's life. What is his name again?"

"Feren Rurikson. He told me you said you would consider freeing him if he worked hard enough."

"I say a lot of things, Aileene, you should know it by now," he quipped, sincerely amused by her candor.

"You lied to him."

The General lifted his head up, looking the woman in front of him in the eye as he forced her to remove her tunic, quickly followed by her pair of trousers.

"Of course I did. I had to give him a reason to work hard, didn't I? Oh, and, by the way, I had the visit of a certain Sorian today. He brought me a message from Roth."

Aileene felt as if her blood had turned cold. Too shocked, for she knew there was no way the message could have been good news if Roth was indeed its expeditor, she offered no resistance when Holin pushed her on the bed, letting his most primary instincts take over him.

"Roth will be here by next week. Now I don't know exactly why, but the point is that he is extremely pissed off for some reason. And you know how unpredictable he gets when he's beside himself, don't you?"

Aileene could only nod, dreading whatever Holin was going to say next, even though his chapped lips were busy traveling down to her navel.

"I want you and mostly that Feren Rurikson of yours to forge a sword for Roth in order to appease him. I'll pay for the best materials, but the both you had better create the best blade of your miserable lives if you wish to keep your respective heads on your shoulders."

No other words were exchanged after that.

Later, when the General lay sleeping beside her, now completely spent, Aileene could only gaze at the ceiling and concentrate on the feeling of her bitter tears rolling freely down her hidden cheeks.

"It's too late, Feren," she whispered hoarsely to herself, "It is simply too late."