A few author's notes: Wanted to say thank you for all the review feedback. If I don't respond personally to you, know that I appreciate your words.

I know I said in the Prologue notes that I was aiming for a new chapter every other week. Obviously, this one is ahead of schedule, and I might stay ahead of schedule for the next few whiles (i.e. a chapter a week). Just don't be surprised if I switch back to my earlier proposed schedule of one new chapter every two weeks - life has a happy of changing on me.

Onward.

Chapter Four: Rewriting The Rulebook

For most of Berk's history, the Wasteland was nothing more than a geographical eyesore on the northwestern edge of the island. It was a section of coastline where the earth consisted of hard rock and pebble, where nothing could find purchase to grow and where not even the gulls and mosquitoes visited. It was useless terrain ignored by life in general.

Things were a little different now. Ebony smudges dotted the rocky outcroppings and rubble massed where strafing dragons had blasted or smashed unlucky stone formations into bits and pieces. The Wasteland had been turned into a training site for riders working on safely getting their mounts to open fire on command without burning down the village or the rest of the island. There was plenty of open sea for that kind of thing as well, but there was no real substitute for the visceral feeling of watching helpless rocks get scorched or fragmented by your dragon.

For the next two weeks, the Wasteland belonged to Hiccup and company.

First day on the job, and it was already mid-afternoon by the time Hiccup had assembled his crack team of hotshot recruits on the rocky shore of the Wasteland. And by "crack team" he meant his Dragon Rider group and Gobber. Considering how little time he had to get organized, he was thrilled to have gotten this far this fast.

Hiccup stood near the pebble shoreline, his back to the ocean as it crashed against the nearby reefs. Gobber stood to his side, the large blacksmith's shadow threatening to envelope Hiccup entirely in a few minutes as the sun shifted. Toothless stood at his other side, poking his head around a small hole and watching for something interesting to come out of it.

Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut stood before him; their respective dragon mounts milling about behind them. Hiccup hoped to get through the speech section of their training fairly quickly, since bored Viking teens and bored dragons were an explosive combination. But unlike Gobber, Hiccup liked to warn his trainees what they were getting into. And for once, Hiccup was in charge – he still couldn't quite get over that.

"Glad you could all make it," said Gobber, gesturing with his all-purpose hook arm attachment at the gathered group. "Sorry about the short notice, but then a good Viking is ready for action at the drop of a helmet."

"That's okay," said Snotlout, not looking very thrilled. "You saved me from having to clean the dragon stables."

"Personally, I think this is awesome," said Tuffnut. "We're finally going to be the deadliest things in the air."

"I think your body odor already has that title," commented Ruffnut.

"Why do you always have to ruin my moment?" replied Tuffnut.

"Not that I'm complaining about being singled out for this honor," said Fishlegs, "but aren't there way better warriors for this than us?"

"In terms of fighting, Gods yes," said Gobber. "But when it comes to flight time and actual experience in battle atop dragons, I had to agree with Hiccup. You all are the best choices. Don't make us regret it."

Astrid had adopted her patented professional look for the proceedings, and Hiccup was grateful for it. Flashing back to his dragon-training days, he really wasn't looking forward to motivating his friends into taking this seriously. Their group flights were best described as controlled chaos, someone picking a direction to go and everyone else following after. While Hiccup was often considered the flight leader, he rarely exerted any kind of authority. He was still working on feeling accepted – feeling in charge felt like a bad joke.

"Still not sure why we're bothering," said Snotlout. "We were the ones who took down Red Death… well, with Hiccup doing the dragon's share of the work. And we didn't need any training for that."

"That's true," said Gobber. "You all committed yourselves like true Vikings that day. You had some skill, and you had surprise on your side… but you also had lots of luck. You might win a battle or two that way, lad, but you can't win wars. The enemies we may face in the future will be organized, well armed, and knowledgeable in taking down dragons. We have to rewrite the rulebook, do things they never thought we could pull off. Good thing we have an expert in such things right here."

"He means me, I think," said Hiccup.

"Indeed, lad," reassured Gobber. "Take it away." He took a step back and motioned for Hiccup to take over. Hiccup took a deep breath and tried not to think about how everyone's eyes were on him now, expecting some kind of epic speech or pithy advice for how, exactly, they were going to pull this off.

"Well, we already have good control of our dragons," began Hiccup, "but when it comes to flying like a team, we have to do better. So we're going to learn how to fly in formation, how to position ourselves so we cover one another. We have to learn how to go after specific targets, and we have to be accurate about it. Missed shots can cause fires and hurt innocent people. We're going to work on hand signals…"

"Hand signals?" asked Tuffnut.

"We have to be able to communicate with each other better," explained Hiccup. "Yes, we can shout to each other under normal circumstances, but in the middle of a battle, or from a distance, we won't be able to hear each other, much less understand what we're saying. So we're going to have to learn some hand signals."

"Ugh," said Ruffnut. "Sounds about as much fun as reading."

"This is great," said Fishlegs, an enthusiastic smile on his face. "I already have a system worked out. If you raise your right hand and hold up three fingers while your left hand is across your chest with your thumb up…"

"Uh, thanks, Legs," interrupted Hiccup, "but Gobber has a system based on some old Viking gestures. We're going to keep it simple."

"You'd like mine better," replied Fishlegs dejectedly.

"Not to point out the obvious," said Snotlout, "but we're all riding different dragons. Won't that mess with our team-building skills?"

"If we play to our strengths and cover our weaknesses, it shouldn't be a problem," said Hiccup. "It'll also make us more adaptable… and I'm told that's a good thing. Any more questions?"

There weren't any, so Hiccup told the group to mount up for some formation-flying exercises. There was a little grumbling from Snotlout, but otherwise they quietly went to their dragons without complaint – all except Astrid, who came up to Hiccup instead. Her professional façade was gone for the moment, a reassuring smile on her face.

"Did I look as uninspiring as I felt?" said Hiccup.

"You did fine," said Astrid. "Actually, I was surprised by how much you've thought about this."

Hiccup gestured over at Gobber, who had somehow jammed his false leg in-between two rocks and was working on freeing himself. "I talked it over with Gobber this morning. He had a lot of suggestions. But I'd be lying if I said this was the first time I've considered how to make ourselves more lethal."

Astrid nodded. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad it's you taking charge here. And don't worry about the others. They might gripe about it, but they'll follow your lead."

"That implies I know where we're going," said Hiccup, trying to smile his way through his insecurity.

Astrid snickered briefly, and then she looked at Hiccup as if she was about to change subjects and say something else. In fact, she looked like she had some weighty concern on her mind. But before Hiccup could ask her what was up, she motioned at her Nadder mount and walked away.

Toothless had picked up on the impending plan to get airborne and was nudging Hiccup with unabashed enthusiasm. "Okay, okay, bud," said Hiccup, his curiosity over Astrid's behavior fading as he mounted Toothless and took to the air. If it was important, she'd eventually get around to telling him. She usually wasn't bashful about speaking her mind.

Even though Hiccup didn't want to model his training lessons after Gobber, whose methods of teaching often resulted in third-degree burns and missing limbs, he did pull one valuable lesson from Gobber's tutelage: establish a routine.

The first week was all about routine – flying by sunlight, hand signals and critiques by firelight. Dawn to dusk and beyond, through cloud bursts and high winds, though sore rears and sore dispositions, Hiccup pushed his squad to think as one, respond as one, fight as one.

After the first week, Hiccup was beginning to believe that the phrase fight-as-one wasn't in anyone's vocabulary.

He met with his dad for a lengthy chat after the seventh day of training. He came home not long after sundown, looking slightly broiled and more than a bit frustrated. Stoic sat by the fire pit and awaited Hiccup's news, wishing to here the updates but trying not to look too eager. Not wanting to get bogged down in the details of training life, he told his dad the highlights of the week.

Day Three

"Everyone, we have targets."

Cruising above the Wasteland at a slow clip, the Dragon Squad was making a gradual pass over a flat section of stony ground that was suddenly inhabited by a platoon of stick figures clad in various garbs. They were spread out in a long line and positioned to resemble two armies of warriors advancing on one another. Some had been painted or clothed in blue, others in red. Some were lined up in orderly rows and columns of their own color while others intermingled with the "enemy."

Gobber and several of his pals had gone to the effort of moving a bunch of target dummies out to the Wasteland the day before. Gobber and Hiccup had been working on these models for the last few months, mostly for Vikings still interested in practicing their combat skills in private. These dummies were as fireproofed as they could get, with as much steel as wood inside them, but they wouldn't last long against sustained dragon fire.

Hiccup was dreading this part, and he'd been hoping to put it off for another few days while he and the gang got the kinks out of formation flying. But for a change, they were actually excelling at something. All that time spent on their recreational group flights had paid off, and it had been remarkably easy to keep everyone orderly and in tight grouping.

It certainly wasn't perfect. Unlike the aerodynamically-inclined bigger dragons, Fishlegs's Gronckle (whom he named, of all things, Chomps) was barely able to keep up on tighter turns and had to stick to the outskirts of formations. The squad couldn't bank as steeply or fly as quickly with him in tow, but the little Gronckle kept trying his heart out and no one even mentioned leaving Fishlegs out of the formations.

The twins were another issue. Their Zippleback (which, depending on who you asked, was named either Killjoy or Double Threat… and not even the twins could remember who came up with either name) could fly as well as any dragon, but the frequent bickering between its riders often disrupted its concentration and forced it out of formation. But after the second day of practice, the Zippleback had apparently taken control and was largely able to maintain formation despite its cantankerous pilots.

Snotlout's Nightmare (named Fenrir, a dark name from Norse lore which Snotlout thought was "cool") was an excellent flyer. Snotlout, however, was resenting all the boring, restrictive flying and was taking it out on Hiccup with his constant complaining about the weather or the early hours or the wedgie he was getting from all the non-stop dragon riding.

Astrid and her Nadder (dubbed Beatrix – no real explanation given) were both brilliant at formation flying. Hiccup let her take the formation lead half the time, which gave him a welcome break from being in charge. Sometimes she got a little too overzealous and pushed the group faster than it could manage, often leaving Fishlegs and the twins behind. But after the second day she had learned to curb her enthusiasm and maintain better control of the squad.

Satisfied that they had the basics down, Gobber had recommended to Hiccup that they start on live fire exercises. Formations might be pretty to look at, but the Gunnarr were impressed by firepower, not flying. If they didn't have such a time constraint, Hiccup might have balked at the idea and done more formation training. But instead he agreed and had Gobber prepare the Wasteland for target practice.

"We're finally getting to the good stuff," yelled out Tuffnut. "Death from above!"

"Take this seriously, guys," shouted back Hiccup. "The targets marked red are the bad guys. Blue is our team. You're going to hit three red targets and then break off your attack. If you hit a blue, you fail. We'll do this one at time. Try to keep your flames low – we don't have any more dummies to spare. Fishlegs, you're first."

Breaking from formation, Fishlegs directed Chomps over the target field and hovered over a mixed group of targets. The Gronckle acted confused as it circled the dummies while Fishlegs yelled, "The red one right there! Blast it, Chomps!" Fishlegs repeated his order a few more times, but the Gronckle still wouldn't obey, eyeing the dummies uncertainly.

"Uh… are we sure Gronckles aren't color blind?" yelled up Fishlegs at Hiccup. Right then, Chomps finally let loose a short stream of flame, passing between two red dummies and striking a blue one in the chest area, the fire torching the hapless target and eliciting a groan from Fishlegs.

Snotlout, happy to get away from tedious formation drills, went next. He maneuvered Fenrir toward a line of red targets, figuring he might net his three hits in one pass and come out looking like a real warrior for a change. He circled around once more to make sure Fenrir knew exactly which targets to go for and then sent the dragon into an attack dive.

"Get 'em, Fenrir!" Snotlout, and the Nightmare obeyed… just not in the fashion he expected.

With a short growl, the Nightmare dropped to the ground and took the closest red dummy in its jaws, its teeth grinding the wood and metal as it shook its head ferociously side-to-side.

"No, Fenrir! Stop! I meant fire! Fire!" Snotlout could see his moment in the sun clouding over as he remembered how much Nightmares enjoyed getting up close and personal with their prey.

Fenrir stopped mauling the dummy and obeyed, launching a gout of fire while its mouth was still full of debris. Rather than stream outward, the liquid flames spread out from between its sharp teeth and began flowing up its neck towards the rest of its body.

It was a common tactic for Nightmares going into battle to coat themselves with their own flames, and it was vital to train that instinct out of them when it came to riding them. There was no way to stop it once it started, however, and Snotlout could only scream in panic and jump from his saddle as the fire rushed over his seat, destroying it. He landed on the ground with a groan, Fenrir spitting out the scorched remains of the target and staring at Snotlout apologetically as its body rippled with fiery heat.

Wondering if he should quit while he was ahead, Hiccup ordered Ruff and Tuff to do their attack run. And for the briefest of moments it looked like they might succeed, aiming their lethal intentions at a group of red dummies.

And then one of them opened their mouths.

"Hit the gas, Tuff," said Ruff.

"It's too early," said Tuff. "It won't reach."

"But if we spark it now, we'll have a nice flame-throwing effect going by the time we reach it."

"Flame-throwing? I thought we were going to gas-bomb them."

"That's not as cool-looking."

"Cool-looking? I want to live through this. The flames will blow back into our faces and burn them off."

"For you, getting your face burned off would be an improvement."

"That's it! I'm going to…"

The rest of their "discussion" was impossible to make out, as they had glided past the target zone and were heading out to sea. They finally understood their mistake a few minutes and two black eyes later.

Hiccup was almost afraid to tell Astrid to go ahead with her run, but she didn't even wait for him to give the go-ahead. With a fearsome war cry, she spun Beatrix down into a dive and soared over the dummies, a sight that would have sent the poor targets scampering had they been alive. She immediately tagged one red with a quick flame blast, banked, took out another dummy as she finished her turn, and then performed a coup de grace on her third "kill" with a barrage of Nadder spikes flicked from its tail, right to the dummy's head.

It only took ten seconds in total, after which she was back to cruising next to Hiccup and Toothless above the target zone. With a slight smile, Astrid nodded her head at the targets. "Your turn," she said.

Feeling relieved that not everyone was screwing up today, Hiccup had Toothless fly to the very edge of the course and then hover for a moment. Now that it was his run, he found it difficult to start. As much as he felt the primal urge to mow down some evil pieces of wood and steel, he had trouble seeing the dummies on the ground as just dummies. If he could've seen them as nothing but inanimate targets, blasting them would've been as easy as putting his one boot on in the morning. But they weren't dummies in the end; they were potential friends and foes of some future battle. They were lives getting snuffed out, and some of them were likely to be snuffed out by him and his friends.

Toothless wasn't rushing to engage, either. Toothless had ways of revealing his intentions, and the fact that the dragon wasn't straining against Hiccup's holding pattern meant he wasn't eager to do this. Hiccup wondered if Toothless understood the implications like Hiccup did. Night Furies were once considered the most fearsome and lethal of dragons, a dragon you'd never live past meeting face to face, yet in Hiccup's limited experience he had never heard of one actually killing anyone. One would show up during raids under the cloak of night, blowing up defenses and fortifications, but it never targeted people directly. It might have been Toothless each time, or there might have been more than one Night Fury living around Berk in the past. But Toothless certainly had a respect for life, even though he was easily capable of taking it.

"Just three red targets," said Hiccup, patting Toothless. "Then we'll call it a day."

It was over and done with before Hiccup could even blink. Toothless shot out like an arrow and rushed over the targets. Three minute flame bolts flew from his mouth. Three red dummies took the hits, the weak blasts barely singing the material.

The rest of the group cheered Hiccup and Toothless from their vantage points over the practice range, but Hiccup wasn't feeling it. Between the failures of most of his squad, and the scary successes of the rest, he wasn't sure if there was anything to feel proud about.

Day Seven

The weather had remained cooperative over the last three days, with not so much a wisp of mist or a sprinkle of rain to ruin the training. It wouldn't take much of a downpour to prevent dragons from using their fire, so Hiccup was taking every opportunity given him to drill his squad on target practice.

As time rolled on, the squad improved slowly but surely. Fishlegs had worked out a targeting system for his Gronckle; a long stick that he could position past his dragon's eyes to point at the desired target. Snotlout had fixed his miscommunication difficulties with Fenrir as well as getting a flame-retardant saddle. Ruffnut and Tuffnut had agreed to a few ground rules negotiated by Hiccup over who was in charge of what during when, which didn't end the bickering but significantly reduced it.

Another long day of drills and practice was nearing its end, the setting sun coloring the sky with its own shades of dragon fire. Most of the dummies had ceased resembling human stick figures, their extremities burnt off and their frames warped and melted from repeated attacks. The target range had become a solid band of charcoal and soot, further blemishing the already blemished Wasteland.

Although everyone was drained from a solid week of training and their dragons were low on combustion gas, Hiccup was having the squad fly one last exercise before they lost the light altogether. Flying in a loose X-formation with Toothless in the lead, they were taking a long approach to the target range. This time out, they were going to attack it as one coordinated front instead of as individuals. Each rider had been given a target to hit beforehand and they weren't going to worry about friendly targets this time out.

It was as simple as Hiccup could make it. Fly by, hit the target, and don't get in anyone else's way. Nothing fancy this first time through. This being his squad, Hiccup already knew it wasn't going to go very well, but he had already factored in a few mistakes into his expectations. He just wanted them to get a taste of fighting as a team before the week was over.

Snotlout and Fenrir were flying off Hiccup's right flank, with Astrid and Beatrix below him. Snotlout was more than happy to be having the day come to an end. Not since dragon training had he felt this wiped, and it didn't help to be taking orders from Hiccup constantly. At least the number of his embarrassing training moments had been kept to a minimum, with Fenrir almost spontaneously combusting him being the worst.

As they approached the target range, his gaze began to wander a bit. Fenrir could easily nail one target on his own, so he wasn't worried about losing focus. He was looking toward the north, wishing he could be out on a free flight over the sea rather than stuck doing boring and probably unnecessary exercises. He understood why Hiccup and Gobber thought they should be doing this, but he didn't see the value in it. They had dozens of Vikings trained to ride dragons, more than enough to send an army of Gunnarr into full retreat, so why waste their time with squad tactics?

It was still better than doing chores, but not by much.

As he watched the sea churn and flow, something moving in the air caught his eye. A weird distortion or ripple was moving from east to west, almost like a little blob of clear water flying through the sky. He couldn't make out any details about it, not even its shape, and it was moving erratically enough that he couldn't tell if it was getting closer or moving away.

It occupied his attention for a few seconds too long, before he noticed that the rest of the squad had gone into a battle dive toward the targets. Fenrir was still flying straight.

"Thor's beard!" Snotlout swore, putting Fenrir into a steeper dive than the others, desperately trying to avoid adding another embarrassing moment to his tally. But he overcompensated, barely managing to pull out of his dive before colliding into Beatrix. As it was, he grazed the blue-scaled dragon with a slight touch on the right wing.

Beatrix felt the Nightmare briefly graze her, Astrid's dragon panicking from what it considered a potential attack. Right as Astrid gave the order to shoot, Beatrix veered up and to the left. Surprised, Astrid yelled Beatrix's name as the Nadder let slip a blast of fire, which completely missed her target but didn't completely miss Hiccup and Toothless.

Hiccup was rather surprised to see a torrent of flame pass by his face, the heat reddening his skin and curling more than a few hairs. He managed to maintain his composure for a few seconds, mostly due to surprise, and then he closed his eyes and bit his lips to stifle an angry outburst. Toothless was more shocked and confused than injured, his head darting around as he instinctively looked for further danger.

"Hiccup!" yelled Astrid, bringing Beatrix alongside Toothless. "Are you okay?"

"I'll get back to you on that," he quietly replied. "For now, let's all land."

A minute later, after the group had landed on the blackened target range, Snotlout was sounding suitably contrite as he attempted to explain what happened.

"Really, it was an accident," he pleaded, keeping his eyes on an enraged Astrid and tensing his legs in case he needed to run for his life.

"What was it this time?" said Hiccup. "Clouds in your face? You ate another bug?"

"I… don't know. There was something out there over the ocean." He pointed off to the north. Naturally, the odd thing he'd seen had completely vanished, so he was going to look either crazy or irresponsible.

"Something out there," mimicked Hiccup. "You're not even trying anymore."

"Seriously, there was something flying around. I couldn't get a real good look at it, but…" Seeing that Hiccup and Astrid weren't looking any less angry, he tried another approach. "Hey, maybe it was one of those things you were talking about…"

"Don't, Snotlout," interrupted Hiccup, his temper beginning to flare. "Just don't. I know you're no fan of mine these days, so don't insult my intelligence with…"

"You know, lads and lasses," interrupted Gobber, who had quietly crossed the distance between his safe spot outside of the target range to the assembled group, "you've all been burning the candle at both ends. I suggest you take the night off. Run yourselves too ragged, and you're bound to make mistakes."

Gobber's words managed to break through the rising tension. Hiccup looked at Gobber, smiling that crooked smile of his, and decided to follow his advice. He took a deep breath and said, "Right. No signal training tonight, guys. Get some sleep and I'll see you all in the morning."

The group relief was instantaneous, Fishlegs and the twins eagerly taking off with Snotlout right behind, still watching Astrid warily for any indication of impending violence.

Hiccup wasn't any happier than before, though, so Gobber put his hook arm around Hiccup's shoulders and said, "Sorry for buttin' in, lad, but it wasn't going to do for you all to start tearing into each other. Some cooling down won't hurt." He looked around at the sky and added, "Looks like a nice night out, so I'm going to leg it back. Don't be out too late, you two."

After Gobber started off towards Berk, Hiccup and Astrid moved off to the beach so they could sit somewhere that wasn't coated in ash and soot. Toothless and Beatrix found places in the surf to frolic, happily entertaining themselves, as Hiccup found a clump of rocks to sit upon. Astrid joined him at his side.

"You're sure you're okay?" she asked for the eleventh time.

"I'm kinda used to getting scorched," he replied. "No worse than a sunburn."

"I still want to beat up Snotlout."

"I'm tempted to let you, but we still need him in one piece." Hiccup looked out toward the sea and tried to breathe out his tension. It didn't really work. "One week to go, and we're nowhere near ready."

"We're better than we were… though, honestly, that's not saying much."

"Maybe I should turn things over to Gobber."

Astrid was distressed by that idea. "I lived through one of Gobber's trainings already. I don't think I'll survive another."

"Okay, maybe you should do it."

"Me? I don't have the experience… Wait, why are you suddenly giving up?"

"I'm not suddenly giving up. I've been giving up a little each day."

"Hiccup, you're doing fine."

"You keep saying that, but I'm not seeing it."

"If you're expecting to have us plugging pebbles on the ground while we're doing loopy-loops by the end of next week, then you're expecting too much. But we're coming together, Hiccup, and we're all in one piece. I'd say it's not bad for your first stint at leadership."

Hiccup blew out another sigh. "My first. Probably more to come, right?"

"You are the chief's son."

"Like that should make any difference. It wasn't long ago that half the village would have up and joined the Gunnarr if anyone even joked that I'd become chief."

"Not long ago, we used dragon teeth as toothpicks."

"Yeah, we did. That was kind of disgusting." He looked back at Astrid. "Well, can I least make you Second-in-Command?"

Astrid jokingly thought about it for a moment and then said, "I suppose I can do that."

"Good. Then I hereby declare, with all the power vested in me, signed, sealed, etc, that you are Second-in-Command of our Dragon Squad."

"Great. By the way, I already assumed I was."

"Yeah, so did I."

There was quiet again for a minute, the only sounds the playful growls of Toothless and Beatrix enjoying the surf, and Hiccup once again got the impression that Astrid had something else on her mind. It was something she either couldn't put into words or something she didn't want to say but couldn't quite scrub the emotion behind it off her face. Hiccup figured it was the latter possibility.

He wanted to hope that her thoughts were headed where he hoped they were headed, but he definitely didn't want to rush her. Besides, he had too much on his plate right now to think in those terms, so he let the matter drop once again.

As if worried that Hiccup was somehow reading her mind, Astrid hurriedly said, "Know what's funny? When Snotlout made up that story about seeing something, I actually thought about… you know…"

"Our friends from the Mainland," finished Hiccup. "It crossed my mind too, but only for a second."

"Good to know. I was afraid you might obsess on it."

"I don't obsess… much…. anymore. I mean, you weren't afraid I'd go off on some mad quest to find the truth, were you?" When Astrid didn't immediately respond, Hiccup frowned and said, "You thought that, didn't you?"

"Not seriously. Just…"

"Just what?"

"You're not like us, Hiccup, and there are times I worry that you weren't meant to stay in Berk. That something's going to drag you away, call you away… or you'll just decide to leave. I was afraid that what happened on the Mainland was that something."

Astrid was looking out toward the sea, no longer meeting Hiccup's eyes. He wondered for a moment if this was the unspoken subject she kept avoiding, but he wasn't getting the same vibe from her. This was more a distant fear, not in the same category.

"Astrid, I like it here," he said quietly. "Even when the village wanted me tied to a tree as dragon bait, I still considered Berk my home. Now that I got this place running the way I like it, I'm definitely staying put. Got it?"

She looked back at him and managed a smile. "Good, because otherwise I'd have to hunt you down and drag you back here. We need you here, Hiccup, and don't you forget it."

Another set of warming words, but Hiccup noted how carefully she worded them. We need you here, Hiccup.

As his thoughts turned toward flying back to Berk, Hiccup felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. He had a prickly feeling in the back of his mind that made him feel like he was being watched. He scanned the beach and the surrounding rocks for any new pairs of eyes, but there was nothing out of place. The feeling soon left him, and he chalked it up to old thoughts about the Mainland encounter.

But he watched the sky more vigilantly on his way home, just to be on the safe side.

Most of the more personal details of the last week were left out of Hiccup's debriefing to his father, but otherwise Hiccup gave him a honest summary of how things were progressing. He expected to get criticized for not being tough enough on Snotlout or doing too much formation flying and not enough violence.

Much to his surprise, Stoic was content with Hiccup's performance.

"Son," began Stoic, "my first command was aboard a longship patrolling up near the ice flow in the dead of winter over two decades ago. Even back then, I was obsessed with finding the dragon nest and I thought it was somewhere in the ice to the north. I had this stupid notion that the nest was on a large iceberg that changed positions all through the year, which was why we could never find it. As a result of my folly, we ran into a different iceberg and got marooned for a few days. If my own father hadn't sent another longboat my way, my men would have starved or frozen. I was very lucky that we all survived as it was – not everyone is so fortunate."

"Give me time," said Hiccup. "I might still find a way to mess this up."

"No doubt," said Stoic lightheartedly. "You've done well in the last week, rest assured. In another week, I think you'll have a squad capable of putting the fear into the Gunnarr. I've asked Gobber to work on a demonstration plan, something that will show off your squad's skills during the summit. Nothing too fancy, mind you. I just want them to get the idea of what happens when they're on the bad end of our dragons."

Stoic also agreed with Gobber about allowing everyone a little down time. He was proud of how hard Hiccup was pushing his trainees, but R&R did wonders for the morale. He suggested a two-hour block each day for everyone, including Hiccup.

Hiccup agreed, deciding to put the two hours at the end of flight time but before signaling lessons in the evening. It would help smooth things over in the group and he certainly could use some downtime of his own. His problem was what to do with it. He wouldn't be in any mood for more flying after a day full of it, and he didn't want to sink his precious free time into Gobber's shop or training dragons or the Dragon Manual. And he could really use some responsibility-free time to himself, no offense to Astrid or the others.

That left one option – tinkering. Good thing he already had a project on the side.