Exactly a year had passed, so Oswald was preparing to return to Berk. He awoke and grunted quietly as he thought of his traveling partner. After getting ready for the day, the Berserker went through the hut and stopped just as he reached the door. He had not heard anything which was strange for his household.

"Maybe he actually listened for once," he wondered.

Oswald went outside and breathed in the night air. Technically, it was early morning, but it was dark enough to have believed otherwise. The chief calmly walked to the docks and got on his ship, expecting to set sail immediately. Unfortunately, the gods did not seem to have this in store for him. On top of being so wild, Dagur was late. Oswald had told him that he wanted to leave before dawn and the vessel was empty besides him. Strong temptation to just leave the boy behind clawed at his brain, but he had to be patient.

"What's worse? Being on this trip longer or not having an island to return to?"

Suddenly, the wait did not seem as terrible, but it was still long. The sun began to rise and had been up for several minutes as Oswald rapped his fingers against a desk in frustration.

"That boy would make a mute man yell in rage," he thought furiously. "We should've been on the water by now."

This departure time was a change, but it was one the chief preferred. Before, he would leave in the afternoon since the tide would be lower and made it a slower trip. Anything to have more time to himself. Now that this time to himself no longer existed, he just wanted to get the trip over and done with so that he could get back to the usual monotony of chieftain life. With a deep sigh, he continued to wait.

Hours earlier, Dagur had gotten up to prepare for the day. He was not as excited as he had been for the first trip, but this was still an opportunity to prove he would be a good chief.

"This time," he said to himself, "I'll do everything right."

Oswald had been vague about what time he wanted to leave, so Dagur just decided to get up as early as he could to prepare. He would wait by the ship (not on the ship this time in case he was tempted to make another change which seemed brilliant to him and idiotic to his father.)

"See, Dad?" he thought bitterly. "I can learn."

Dagur looked around the docks, checking to see if there were any loose boards. He found a few which fit this description and was content with repairing them. Going back home to find some tools, Dagur began working. He enjoyed working with his hands. It kept him entertained and it seemed like his father would be the least upset when he did activities like this. Still, Dagur would not say that it necessarily made Oswald happy, but it did not make him mad, so that was something.

Humming a Berserker song with nails between his teeth, Dagur stopped when he heard footsteps. His eyes lit up with excitement as he got ready to show his father what he had done. Standing, the boy's smile disappeared when he saw the identity of the viking. A tall, muscular teenager with red hair approached him, kicking over the container of nails.

"What are you doing, Dainty?"

Dagur frowned at the spilled items, then the approacher. "Don't call me that, Ansson."

Without wasting a second, Ansson grabbed his head and smashed him into the ground. His face just missed the nails, but his left shoulder was not as fortunate.

"Or what, Dainty?" the youth taunted. "Are you going to laugh your weird laugh? Are you going to go crying to your daddy?"

Dagur struggled against the larger boy's grip, but he was too strong. Ansson's eyes left him and went to a tool he was using to secure the nails into the board.

"What's this?" he asked, picking up the object to inspect it with his free hand.

"Mine!"

"Wrong answer. Try again."

Ansson let go so that he could put the boy in a Berserker chokehold.

"What is it?" Ansson repeated.

Dagur clawed at his arms to make him let go, but the viking was undeterred. Glancing around them, Ansson started walking backwards so that they were not on the docks anymore. They were too close to the ships. He doubted Oswald would care if he saw them, but he liked the idea of making life harder for the heir. Ansson stopped walking when they were by some huts. One of them had a small fire going outside. Its calmly crackling embers did little to make the situation less stressful.

"I can't be late," Dagur thought unhappily. "The sun's about to come up. Dad will be expecting me to be on the ship."

"You're making me bored, Dainty," Ansson complained. "When I get bored, I start getting creative."

The bigger viking went towards the fire, bending forward so that Dagur's face was going towards the flames. Feeling some heat, the heir yelped and tried to move back but could not.

"They're Dad's!" he answered, closing his eyes so that he would at least still have them when this was over.

Ansson's eyes widened some and he let go (but not without pushing the boy some). Balance kept Dagur from falling into the fire and he spun to defend against another shove. No shove came, though. Ansson was just smiling at the tools.

"These are the chief's?" he quietly asked, more to himself than Dagur. His eyes moved to the boy as his grin became more sinister. "I wonder what the others will think when I tell them I took them from the chief's own son. I can't imagine they'd respect an heir who can't even keep his family's belongings safe. How would you keep us safe from attackers? Oh, well, I suppose you might just be a peaceful chief like your coward father."

"Dad's not a coward!" Dagur yelled, eyes wild. "You're not taking those either."

Ansson laughed. "You can't stop me, Dainty. Might as well go back and tell him they're mine now."

Feeling anger coursing through his veins, Dagur lunged at the viking. The older one had more combat experience and side-stepped him, throwing him into the wall of a hut. Smirking, Ansson then kicked the rocks of the fire. It began spreading to the grass and went towards the home. Dagur's eyes widened in panic and he started stomping out the flames. They were catching quickly and he could tell this was not going to be enough. He needed water, so he ran to the docks. Ansson was close behind and just as Dagur grabbed a bucket, he was tackled to the ground.

"Aw, you were almost there," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Just a few more steps and–"

Ansson stopped talking as Dagur's elbow connected with his jaw, making him dazed. The boy was aware that this was just a temporary solution, but it gave him time to roll out and get the water. He brought it back just in time to pour it onto the fires, stopping it before it set the hut aflame. Through heavy pants, Dagur looked at the home to be sure no fire was anywhere. It was not, but there was a warm light cast on the hut by the sun. He silently cursed.

"I didn't make it in time," the boy thought.

Looking at Ansson, Dagur ran past him and towards the docks again. This time, he did not stop at getting water. The Berserkers were safe, so he had to attend to other chiefly duties. Boarding the ship, Dagur saw his father tapping the table. Oswald looked up and frowned.

"What took you so long? I said to be here before dawn."

"I was, but then you weren't, so I started working on the docks and–"

"You can't always rely on excuses to bail yourself out of problems."

"It's not an excuse!" Dagur yelled. "It's an explanation. You just asked me why I wasn't here."

Oswald raised a hand, signaling for him to stop talking. Quietly, Dagur seethed and began walking away from him.

"Oh and your tools are gone, but I guess you wouldn't want to know why," he said, glaring.

The chief scowled after him as he sat down. He went to the helm and began hoisting the sails so they could begin their journey. It was a quiet trip. Neither Berserker wanted to talk to the other for reasons both found justified. Still, when they docked at Berk, Oswald spoke.

"Consider this a lesson in chiefing," he said. "Always appear strong in dealing with other clans of vikings. No matter how upset you are or what you're thinking, don't let anyone else know. When we go in here today, we're going to act like everything is fine. Am I understood?"

Dagur did not answer at first, still glaring at the ground. Therefore, Oswald went over and brought down his hand on the top of the boy's head (not necessarily lightly).

"That was a question."

The boy looked up with a forced smile. "Understood, Chief."

He said it with such sarcasm that Oswald began wondering if the word could be used as an insult somehow. If so, it just was. Moving on, he went to disembark. Oswald got to the docks first this time, followed by Dagur. When the Berkians saw them, it seemed like such a major change from the last time. The boy did not appear excited and the chief did not appear concerned. They looked like a team even though that was the last thing anyone should have considered them.

"Oswald, it's good to see you again," Stoick said.

"You as well, Stoick," Oswald said with a smile he had practiced so many times that it looked natural. "Shall we get this treaty signed?"

"We could go on a tour first," the Berkian offered.

"You're a busy man. I'd hate to add to that."

Stoick smiled. "And that's why we have peace between our tribes. To the signing it is."

Dagur half listened to the men as they spoke. His focus was split between thinking about how angry he was with Oswald and Ansson as well as his fascination with the little Berkian at Stoick's side. Hiccup had barely grown if he had at all.

"Aren't you older now?" Dagur asked.

A small frown came over Hiccup's face. "I am."

"Then, why didn't you grow?"

Hiccup's face got red and Dagur frowned. There he was making mistakes again. He did not mean to embarrass the kid. He just was curious.

"Nevermind. It doesn't matter," he said in a tone that sounded more dismissive than he meant.

"Hiccup," Stoick said, noticing the boy's ashamed expression. "You should give Dagur a tour of the forest while his father and I deal with the treaty. It won't take long."

"The forest?" Hiccup asked, horrified.

Stoick sighed and he got his answer. Sullen, the younger heir led the other past the huts and into the forest. Unbeknownst to him, he had been noticed. The boys did not speak as they walked. Hiccup did not know what to say.

"I don't know if we have anything in common," he thought. "Sure, he seemed to like the weapons I made, but that's it. He got so weird at the end of the last visit, but now he seems like he's trying to be normal or something."

Dagur had little more luck in knowing what to speak about with the younger viking. "He's so scrawny," he mused. "He can't be a fighter, so no talks about that. He worked on weapons, but I don't know how to do that. Ugh, we don't have anything in common. This is going to be so boring!"

Suddenly, someone spoke, but it was neither of them.

"Dagur!" Snotlout called out happily. "You're back!"

The heir turned with a sneer on his face. "You again?"

Snotlout looked a little hurt by this, but he did not let it deter him. "I'm up for that dragon fighting game if you want to do it again."

"Not this time," Dagur said. He was not making that mistake twice. "Hiccup's showing me the forest."

"I can do it better! Hiccup doesn't even know these woods. He'll get lost in a minute. Just watch."

"No, I won't," Hiccup protested. "I'll be able to get us back."

"As if! You're always too scared to come here. How would you know where to go?"

Hiccup glared at the bigger boy. "I could create something to help me not get lost."

Snotlout started to laugh. "Because there's totally going to be something besides stars that vikings can use to navigate. Now you're just making stuff up. Just another reason why I'd be a better guide. Heck, I'd probably be a better heir too. Not like it'd be hard. Look at you, you won't scare off anybody. I can keep Berk safe."

Hiccup could only scowl because he could not argue. Snotlout was not wrong. Hiccup was afraid of the forest, but there were dragons everywhere and they could attack at any time. When you are the size of a twig and have to worry about fire breathing behemoths, is that not a legitimate reason to have hesitation? If only the other Berkians believed that. To them, nothing short of prolonged torture was an acceptable reason to be slightly less inclined to do something. Sometimes, Hiccup wondered if he even was a Berkian. He barely looked like his father and always felt so different from the others. It did not help when vikings like Snotlout pointed this out to him every chance they got.

The light simmering of Dagur's blood had turned into a full blown boil at this point. Hiccup looked so ashamed by what the other boy had said. It was the type of embarrassment that could only be understood with experience and Dagur had plenty.

"You'd talk that way to your future chief?" he questioned, marching over to the shorter boy. "What else would you do? Would you attack him too?"

Snotlout backed away fearfully as the redhead towered over him. "N-no."

"Why's that?"

"The chief would kill me."

"That's the only rea–"

Dagur stopped mid yell as he remembered what his father had said. He had to keep his thoughts to himself. Still, that did not mean he could do nothing. A twisted grin went across his face.

"You know what chiefs need?" he asked.

"Whatever it is, I've got it times a gazillion," Snotlout boasted.

The smile on the older boy's face made him regret his bravado. Still, he had come too far to give up now. Dagur pulled out some knives and moved them between his fingers.

"Fearlessness," he said. "Stand by that tree and don't move when I throw this knife at you."

"What?!" Snotlout shrieked. "I'm not doing that!"

"Then, you're no chief."

"I could be!"

"Not if you're scared." Dagur's eyes twinkled crazily. "Are you?"

So badly, Snotlout wanted to say that he was not, but between the proposed idea and that insane look, he was terrified.

"I-I have to help my dad with something back home. Maybe next time."

Snotlout ran off back to the huts, leaving the heirs alone.

"Thanks," Hiccup said. "I wouldn't have thought about trying something like that. It was a good bluff."

Dagur made a face. "I don't bluff. Fear is bad for leading. You should get rid of it. I can help."

Hiccup turned ashen. "You're serious about throwing knives at me?"

"I obviously won't hit you. I'm a great shot."

"There's a first time for everything," the Berkian said nervously.

"Guess it's a chance we'll just have to take."

Feeling wind go past his face, Hiccup froze as a knife zipped past his right cheek. It came near him, but it did not touch. Regardless, he felt a bit nauseous at how close he was to losing some flesh.

"I don't like this game, Dagur," he said, voice trembling a bit. "Can't we just look around the forest?"

"No, it's not enough. We're sons of chiefs, Hiccup! No one can doubt us! They have to know we can lead them. They have to know they won't have a choice and will be punished if they ever act like we're not worth their obedience."

With each word, Dagur seemed to produce a new knife to throw at Hiccup. The smaller boy was running at full speed to avoid getting hit. Dagur was not aiming for him, but he was close. The goal would not have been accomplished if he was not. He started laughing.

"You have to admit this is fun, Hiccup! Don't you feel stronger already? Stoick will be so proud! When I'm done, we'll switch and you'll get to throw the knives at me!"

"I don't want to!" Hiccup called out.

His eyes widened with hope as he found a potential place to hide. There was a burrow in the ground that was just the perfect size for him. Hiccup supposed there were some perks to being so tiny. He held his breath so that it would not give away his location.

"Please, go away," he silently wished. "Oh, Thor. Am I really going out like this? I thought I'd at least get eaten by a baby Gronckle. That'd have more honor in it than being sliced to death by an insane viking on a peace treaty trip."

Even though he controlled his breaths, the boy's heartbeat raced faster than a Speed Stinger. It was like the Berserker could sense him. Jumping, Hiccup drew backwards as Dagur popped his head into the opening of the burrow, being upside down at the time.

"There you are! Are you done hiding yet? It'll go easier if you stay still. Running kinda makes me think you're still scared."

"Well, that might just be the first right thought you've had," Hiccup said under his breath.

Dagur heard him and scowled, then yoked him out the burrow by his arm. "This is to help you, so you could stand to act less ungrateful."

"I don't want your help! I'm fine."

The Berserker looked surprised for a moment before shaking his head. "That's just the fear talking. You actually do want my help."

"Dagur!" a voice called out, causing Dagur to sigh.

"I guess the peace treaty is done," Hiccup said hopefully. "You and your dad will probably be leaving now."

"As if I didn't know that," Dagur snapped. "My thoughts aren't wrong. There's nothing wrong with me no matter what you or everyone else thinks."

There was a note of hurt in his voice that made Hiccup feel bad for his earlier words; however, it did not change his opinion. Dagur's opinion remained the same as well. He turned away and started heading back to the village, calling behind him.

"Like I said, Hiccup. We're sons of chiefs. We've got to act like it or no one's ever going to respect us."

Dagur got back to the main village and found his father looking impatient.

"How'd it go with Hiccup?"

"Fine," came the brisk reply.

Oswald did not push the matter further. He saw Hiccup approaching and was relieved that the boy was unharmed, if a bit spooked. As long as the Berkian was not hurt, he did not care what Dagur's problem was.

"Probably just called him crazy," the man thought. "Wouldn't be a new experience." He pointed to the docks. "Let's head back."

Dagur just nodded and followed him back to the ship. When the two were gone, Stoick looked at Hiccup, seeing his pensive frown. The chief sighed slightly. Dagur had seemed to have grown so much in that short amount of time, but Hiccup was still so small. It was dangerous for him to remain that way and his father hoped he would not for long.

"Dad," Hiccup said, bringing Stoick out of his thoughts. "Did anyone ever doubt you'd be a good chief when you were a kid?"

Stoick's heart hurt hearing this, but it also filled him with anger. How dare anyone question his son's worthiness. Still, he knew that he would be lying if he pretended to be incapable of understanding the doubt. He had spent his time as chief protecting as many Berkians as possible. Passing time did not make their home any safer. If anything, it seemed like there were more fatalities with each dragon attack. When he was gone, who would defend them in his stead?

"Yes, actually," he answered to the boy's surprise.

"Really?"

The man frowned at the memory. "Spitelout constantly doubted me and tried to sway the others to his side."

"Of course it was Spitelout," Hiccup quietly said. "Like father, like son, I guess." He looked up with sad eyes. "How did you make him respect you?"

"I'm not sure if I ever did, but I made it clear he would follow me. Some vikings just can't accept not being in control."

This news did little to assuage Hiccup's concerns. He did not know how to make Snotlout realize he did not have a choice. Unlike Dagur, he was not large or threatening. If that was the only thing the Jorgenson boy responded to, then he needed to pick up some new skills.

"Maybe I can invent something that would make the others stop doubting me," he realized.

Stoick sadly regarded him. If only his son could have had half the strength he did at his age. His life would be so much easier. Unaware of the man's unhappy expression, Hiccup went off to the armory to see if he could get any ideas. While he did this, Dagur was sharpening one of his knives on their Berserker ship. Oswald was at the helm, not letting his eyes move from the water. The boy was not sure if this day was a success or not, but he supposed it was good that he did not have to remain on the ship for half the visit like the last time. He even got to find out more about the Berkian heir. What the heck. He would call it progress. His dad had not yelled at him and he got a new objective. Last time, he had nothing to do while Oswald was signing the treaty. He was just there to fill space. Now, he could spend his time on Berk helping his little fellow heir become a feared leader. That was an improvement all around.