A/N: Salutations all, NoOne. Still feeling this story right now, so here is another update. Here we go.

Edit: flashbacks will be in italics, other languages will be underlined

AVAVAVAVA

Most days, stepping out of one's house and onto the streets of Berk was stepping into a chaotic mess of sweating men and swearing women. The streets would be packed with people, shoving each other and generally raising hell. Now there was silence.

The mead hall has always been a companionable place that worked more as a bar than anything else, although most meals were served there as well. At any point in the day one could find a friend there, if not in people then in the mead that flowed endlessly. The candles that lit the interior cast a warm glow around the room, making it feel more like home than home usually did. Not a candle was lit or a person was found.

The kill ring has always had a symphony of clangs and clashes, playing the music of war without a formal conductor for days at a time. Sometimes, people would challenge each other to brawls for power or object and everyone would gather to watch, the music still playing still. Not a not emerged now, silence more bothersome than the noise ever was.

The docks have always been a place of nervous excitement and energy. It was a place for strange boats to dock with even stranger captains, bringing wares unimaginable and stories even more so. When familiar tribes or traders visited, laughter and shouting could be heard across the town. Cheerfulness was something all vikings attributed to boats and the sea, the docks an extension of that. Here is where the entirety of Berk was, standing on the peer gazing tearfully at the ocean in front of them.

Not a word was spoken as the funeral pyre drifted off farther into the sea, gloriously carrying the body of Stoick the Vast with it. One of the greatest warriors Berk had ever known drifting off into the gates of Valhalla, burning with the intensity of a thousand nadder fires.

No one was particularly surprised by his passing, few lived to be his age and that was without living the lifestyle they had chosen. The past two years had shown him to be sickly in his age and eventually, even mountains must fall. He had passed fitfully in his sleep, Astrid and Ruffnut the only ones allowed at his side. The shieldmaiden and healer had tended to him for days, hoping for improvement to find only condemnation at every corner.

Even though the heir to the tribe was the one to light the fire, everyone waited for those two to fire before following suit, neither had spoken a word since they had announced his death to the tribe. Astrid was never one to cry, not even when her parents died was a tear shed, but now they flowed freely down her face, mirroring her friends. Unlike most, Stoick had maintained mental stability throughout his death, often speaking clearly of times and events from the past and present. His final words though, were the clearest of them all and was currently the source of the great Astrid Hofferson's tears.

AVAVAVAVA

The face that peered up at the ceiling was one that was almost foreign to her, familiarity coming solely from the beard splayed across his body, more white than red but familiar all the same. The companionable silence that had fallen over the two of them was one that Astrid had grown accustomed too when in the presence of the dying man and thus was thoroughly startled when his booming voice shattered whatever had been through her mind at the time.

"I wonder if he forgave me before he died," the chief mused more to himself than the woman he shared the room with. There was no need to question who he was referring to. It was his one regret, his son. She contemplated her answer for a moment, wanting to give the man her honest opinion.

"I think he did, he had to." She said with confidence, thinking the conversation to be over.

"I wouldn't have." The admission once again startled her. He must have noticed as he decided it would be best to explain himself. "If my father had treated me like I treated him, I would've brained him with an axe by the time I was married, but he put up with me for so long. I have thought long and hard about his escape, sometimes I believe too long and hard, I wasn't made for thinking you know," the feeble attempt at a joke not even eliciting a smile from the ever serious shieldmaiden. He cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. "I know all of the reasons for his departure, and I'll be blunt, I know you were one of them." Astrid seized up in fear but did nothing to correct him, it would do no service to him to lie. She waited for him to continue. "I hated you for it, but I suppose it wasn't your fault. You were just a child and things happen, that I know, but I still hated you. You were our best warrior so I kept my peace, but it was still there." Silence once again descended as he let Astrid once again ponder his words.

She, for one, was shell-shocked. She had always kept her involvement in the entire event to herself for fear of vengeful prosecution, and to know that her shield bearer had known all along was terrifying. A thousand possibilities ran through her head as to why he had said this. She was about to take her leave to think, standing up and turning to the door before his words once again stopped her. "I have forgiven you." She almost couldn't believe she had heard that right. "Wh-what?" her voice shivering with raw emotion.

She turned around again to find his piercing gaze tearing through her making her shrink into herself. "He forgave you too, this I know." Astrid opens her mouth to retort, years of guilt threatening to pour over but he stopped her, determined to finish. "I hope that he forgave me too. I hope to see him in Valhalla." He closed his eyes and soon slept, never letting Astrid voice her concerns.

The next day, he was dead.

AVAVAVAVA

No one dared make a move to disturb the peace of beautity of the ceremony, looking for their leader to make the first move, and so, with a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes, she turned back towards Berk, leading the procession of mourners back to their lives, failing to notice the strange ship in the distance, thus, no one saw the symbol of the outcast flapping in the wind.

AVAVAVAVA

That was the next chapter giving a bit of insight into life on Berk as it stands right now. Hope you liked it. Don't be afraid to leave criticism. As long as it is constructive I enjoy it. See you all next time. NoOne.