It was late–or early–the Berserker heir never knew which way to consider it when it was dark like this, so he normally settled for considering it the time when he needed to get to the ship. He had already gotten ready and just had to make it to the docks. Leaving his room, Dagur peeked in on Oswald. He was snoring loudly. He did everything loudly. If his son could change one thing about him, it would probably be that. It got old and annoying quickly. Dagur went over to the chief's bed and poked his shoulder.

"Dad," he called, wiggling him.

Oswald did not stir and seemed to snore with more ferocity. Dagur wondered if it was just to be difficult and if the man was actually awake, only trying to frustrate him. He shook his shoulder again and Oswald sleepily swatted at the touch to make it stop. The Berserker boy crossed his arms and scowled at him. They had planned on being on the water, so why was the man making this more challenging than it needed to be?

"Dad!" he shouted, causing Oswald to sit straight up with fists raised, looking around as if expecting someone to be there, waiting to attack him.

"What's going on?" he tiredly asked, after seeing that no one was there besides Dagur. Oswald frowned at him. "Why are you in here?"

"Because it's time to head to Berk. How do you keep forgetting?"

Oswald rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I was up late last night."

"Doing what?"

An intrigued expression was on Dagur's face as he asked. For the first time in a while, it seemed like Oswald was doing something interesting.

"I was out in my usual spot, imagining…"

The man trailed off and Dagur hopped closer, waiting for him to elaborate. A faraway look was in his eyes and he seemed at peace for a moment, then reality set back in. Looking at Dagur again, he got out of the bed.

"You have no sense of personal space," he complained, moving around the younger viking.

"What were you imagining?" the heir asked, undeterred.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be ready in a few. Wait for me on the ship."

Oswald left to go wash up and Dagur kicked the ground in boredom. With a huff, he went to the docks. As he walked, he made sure to keep an eye out for whoever might have been watching. No one seemed to be there this time which was a relief. He made it all the way to the vessel with no signs of any watchers. Unfortunately, once he was on the ship, that was a different story altogether.

Dagur waited in the lower compartment and as soon as the door closed, he knew there was going to be trouble. Spinning, he saw Ansson by the door, moving in front of it so that it could not be used. Dagur got into a fighting stance and brought out one of many knives. Ansson raised his hands in pretend surrender.

"Easy, Dainty. I just wanna talk."

"Since when?"

"Since now." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door with a confident smirk that made Dagur want to slash it off of him. "You're getting older. What are you now? Fourteen?"

Thirteen, but Dagur was not going to tell him that. It would just be another weapon he would use against him somehow.

"What of it?"

"Vikings will start looking to you as their future chief soon. Anyone who didn't imagine you as an heir will be forced to accept that reality."

"Yeah, they will," Dagur said, puffing up proudly.

"Unless," Ansson added, tapping his chin which was starting to grow a beard.

"Unless what?" came a question the younger Berserker knew he should not have asked and yet had to know the answer to.

The confident smirk turned sinister and the viking lunged at Dagur. A slice cut Ansson's arm, but it was not deep enough to stop him and he pinned the Berserker to the ground before he could slice something else. Dagur tried to push the viking off, but the man's size was too great. They rolled around on the ground some until Dagur was face down and one of his own knives was being pressed against his throat.

"Unless I take over," Ansson stated. "I can show the others that you're not fit to lead. I am. They love me. It won't be hard to make them want me as their chief. What's more, they hate you."

Each time Dagur attempted to move, the blade got pressed further before it finally began drawing warm blood. Ansson brought his mouth close to his target's ear.

"Are ya scared, Dainty?" he whispered. "You could die today."

Mind racing, the heir tried to think of how to survive this encounter. To the surprise of his attacker and himself, he was able to free his right hand fast enough to grab another blade and tried to dig it into Ansson's side. It would have worked had the warrior not been wearing thick padding under his clothing. Still, it shocked him enough for Dagur to knock the blade away. The knife he was using also got knocked away, but his arm was free and he used it to dig his nails into Ansson's arm, making the viking grunt. He managed to turn around and sent several punches into the warrior's ribs. Momentarily, the boy felt hopeful.

"Ha!" he thought. "I might actually win!"

He tried to roll free, but Ansson adjusted and dropped so that all his body weight was on the smaller Berserker. The guy was heavier than he looked and it felt like Dagur was being crushed. He was very grateful for his breath-holding skills, but they did not help him defend against the barrage of punches to his head and face. Another knife off his person was snatched and used to dig into his left arm. Ansson dug it in deeper and twisted, provoking a grunt of pain from the youth.

"Surrender your birthright," Ansson ordered. "I don't have to kill ya, Dainty. I could rule you instead. Just surrender."

"Never," Dagur hissed, trying to ignore the pain in his arm.

This irritated Ansson who speedily got up and kicked him in the side. Dagur tried to stand, but the warrior was faster. Before he could get up, a knee went into his stomach, then another punch got him across the face. Through doubled vision, Dagur took out several more blades, and threw them. They went after each Ansson he saw, so two did not hit the real one, but one did. It got the man across his eyebrow, making it bleed. What had seemed like anger before paled in comparison to the Berserker rage Ansson suddenly exuded.

Like a beast, he ran at Dagur, grabbing his head and using him to break a table into pieces. He was not yelling, but he was furious. The viking kept slamming the other Berserker's head into the ground until that too was damaged. Dagur tried to kick to get him to stop, but Ansson was beyond feeling pain and kept going. A warm feeling let Dagur know his head was bleeding, but that did not stop Ansson either. The viking kept going, so the boy tried again to see if there was an opening to punch. He found one, but Ansson saw it in time and grabbed the hand. He bit down hard on it, surprising Dagur who tried to take his hand back.

A kick was sent into his ribs which sent the boy into the wall. It felt like they were bruised and he clutched them painfully. His eyes widened fearfully as Ansson regained his grip on his hair and delivered more punches until he could no longer stand up straight. The larger viking started dragging him off of the ship. The opponent was too strong to fight against, but Dagur made many attempts. Ansson had calmed down by now, feeling satisfied that his face had been avenged. After all, his opponent was much bloodier than he was. He stopped walking when they were in the middle of the island. To Dagur's horror, Ansson started speaking loudly.

"Come out here and see your future chief!" he called.

"S-stop," Dagur said in a harsh whisper.

The boy was ignored by the warrior, but he was paid attention to after some of the others followed the request to leave their huts. Ansson lifted him off his feet by his neck.

"This," he said, "is no chief and it's no Berserker either. Just a dainty thing which should've been dropped off the side of a ship long ago."

Dagur heard the other Berserkers muttering amongst themselves. There were mutterings of agreement.

"He has always been strange," he heard.

"He's always getting in trouble. There's something not right with him."

"He doesn't act like a Berserker. He eats all fancy and takes fruit baths like a sissy. Clearly, he's not a good fighter either."

The heir turned red, but he was not sure if it was from fury or the sheer humiliation of it all. He tried again to get free, but it seemed futile. Regardless of how it seemed, he was determined to leave. With a hard kick to Ansson's under arm, he loosened the viking's grip and took off for the docks. He could not stay there another minute and trying to attack Ansson would just lead to him being beaten up in front of everyone. He had been shamed enough already. He did not want that to happen too.

"Go on and run!" the bully yelled after him. "A real Berserker never would!"

Dagur tuned out his words to the best of his abilities. When he got back to the ship, he saw Oswald at the helm. The chief looked furious.

"What happened to my ship?"

"Ansson," Dagur answered.

Oswald paused for a moment. The boy did not have the usual snark in his voice he did when he got questioned. He sounded almost timid–pitiful even. Dagur did not meet his gaze which was another uncommon thing. Oswald went over to get a better look and saw the blood, some of which was starting to dry. There was more of this time than in the past. Even without having seen anything, the chief could tell it had been a bad fight. If the boy had not been so crazed, Oswald might have been concerned, but this was Dagur. He probably provoked Ansson in some way. Still, he looked bad. The chief put a gentle hand on his face, inspecting to see how serious the injuries were. When Oswald lightly grabbed his arm, Dagur winced a bit at the touch, but he did not move away from him.

"We'll take a different ship," he said. "Grab a bucket of water. I'll help you use it so that you'll look presentable."

This made Dagur glare and snatch back his arm. "Can't afford to have a bad appearance in front of others. It doesn't matter that our own vikings hate me as long as outside tribes don't know, right, Dad?"

Oswald did not answer him, but he gave a warning look. The boy wanted to shout at him, but he just was not in the mood and his throat was sore either from the choking or his emotions. He liked neither reason. He left the vessel and went to the lower compartment of the other ship. Not once during the voyage did Dagur go to the deck. When they docked, he did not even want to disembark. Before, he could have hidden his injuries some, but these were too plentiful. Still, he could always lie and say he won. It was something he would do if he had to, but he preferred not getting all the weird looks. After a little while, Oswald opened the door to come find him. There was a green binding wrapped around his left arm to stop the bleeding. Dagur was drawing a picture of Ansson with a blade being pushed in one side of his head and out the other. He was laughing as he drew his impressively accurate illustration. It was the one thing about the boy that reminded Oswald of himself. Pushing aside these thoughts, the chief went over to him.

"Come on," he said quietly. "We're both representing Berserker Island."

"Since when does anyone think I represent Berserkers?"

Oswald just sighed, tired. "Enough of your mood swings. Get up and come greet the Berkians with me."

Dagur stayed where he was, obstinate. The father frowned and tried to pull him up by his good arm, but the redhead did not budge.

"I don't want to see you dote on Hiccup all day," he protested. "He's the only reason you've even been excited for these visits."

Oswald let go and raised his arms in frustration. "I don't have time for this, Dagur. Stay if you want. You'll just be showing the Berkians how inconsiderate of a chief you'll be by not even being willing to leave this ship to meet with them." As he walked away, he huffed, "Hiccup wouldn't leave another tribe waiting like this."

The man left their ship and went down to the docks. He smiled warmly at the Berkians and patted Stoick on the shoulder.

"You're alone?" the other chief asked.

Oswald's smile faltered slightly. "No, but you know how boys can be. Well," he added, looking at Hiccup, "I doubt you've had to go through these issues."

"You'd be surprised," Stoick said under his breath.

Hiccup heard and frowned, but it did not stay on his face for long. This was a good thing. No Dagur meant no danger. There was a reason that word and his name shared so many of the same letters. The Berkian followed the two chiefs into the Great Hall. On the way, he noticed Fishlegs who seemed to be hiding. The Ingerman waved him over and he approached.

"Is Dagur here too? I don't see him."

"He is," Hiccup said, watching the bigger boy somehow shrink to a size smaller than his own, "but I guess he's staying on the ship today."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He's Dagur. Nothing makes sense with him. He's almost killed me or almost gotten me killed every time he's been here, so I'm just happy he's there instead of by us."

"Good point."

The two felt relief wash over them and went to the Great Hall with the others. Hiccup watched as his father spoke with Oswald. There was a tension he felt, but he did not know why it was there.

"I thought they got along," he mused to himself. "Maybe Dagur's not the only moody one. Oswald is still seeming jovial as always, but Dad looks like he's ready to snap his neck." He sighed. "All things to look forward to when I get to be chief. Oh joy."

It seemed like the conversation was wrapping up and Gobber was anxiously sliding the treaty towards him on the table. Oswald noticed this and did not mind making the trip go faster. He took out a writing utensil and was about to sign his name when a crash sounded. At first, he grunted, believing he knew the cause of the noise. The Berserker was wrong. Instead of it being his son, a Hideous Zippleback was barging into the Hall with a large explosion.

"Dragon attack!" vikings called from outside.

The Berkians got ready to fight and Stoick sent a look to Hiccup, telling him to stay put while the rest got ready to battle. Taking a sword and shield, Stoick forced the dragon out of the building. Hiccup cringed as he heard more explosions outside.

"I have to do something," he thought helplessly. "I can't just stay here. What if Dad or Gobber are in trouble?"

That did it. With bravery coursing through him, Hiccup ran outside, dodging falling debris and the claws of flying dragons. One Deadly Nadder tried to live up to its name, but he slid/tripped in time to avoid the fangs.

Getting back to his feet, Hiccup managed to make it to the armory. He desperately searched for some weapons.

"Ugh! Why didn't I keep working on my dragon stun invention?" he asked, upset with himself. His eyes landed on a crossbow. "Guess this'll have to do."

It was the only weapon light enough for him to use and it was still cumbersome. He lifted it up and left the building, hearing his heart beating more than anything else. Of course, he was not oblivious to the sounds of roaring dragons. No, he could hear those clearly and they served little purpose beyond terrifying him more. He looked around and saw the other kids. They were doing well…most of them anyway. Fishlegs was still hiding, but Astrid was helping her parents fight off some Deadly Nadders. Snotlout and Spitelout were teaming up against a Gronckle and even the twins were not doing a bad job, all things considered. Apart from a few moments with arguing over who got the mace and ax, ending with Tuffnut getting the mace in the helmet before grabbing it for himself, they were able to at least distract dragons well enough for the warriors to take them out.

The Berkian heir took a breath to calm down, but it did not work. "You can do this," he said to himself. "Worst comes to worst, at least I'll go out helping defend the others. I won't just be some frail Hiccup."

This did not make him feel as confident as he hoped it would, but that did not stop the boy. Mustering all his strength, he aimed the crossbow at a Monstrous Nightmare that was about to blast Astrid with fire. It hit the dragon in the neck and the beast roared at Hiccup furiously. He struggled with loading another arrow into the weapon and had to start running, ducking to avoid a blast sent his way. Hiccup tried to take cover, but there was no cover to be found. Another blast was fired and it got the boy's shoulder. He yelped and tried to pat out the flames, wincing at the burn. This made him fall and tumble down a hill until he hit a boulder with a pain-inducing thud.

Hiccup was trapped with nowhere to go but into the large mouth of a Hideous Zippleback. It had seen him fall and began running over to attack. Squeezing his eyes shut, he awaited the excruciating demise. Before this, Dagur was still on the Berserker ship, angrily ripping up the drawing he had made.

"Why am I still down here?" he asked, standing up. "I'm supposed to help Hiccup become a chief!" He sat back down unhappily, looking at his bound arm. "Who am I kidding? I don't even know how to be one. How am I going to teach him?"

The sounds of explosions and screaming made the Berserker jump back up. All that commotion could only mean one thing. Excitement and concern fought for dominance as Dagur ran up to the deck and off the ship. He saw his father battling a Nadder, stabbing it swiftly in the side. He also saw Stoick and Gobber going after dragons of their own. Lastly, he saw the other kids, but he did not see Hiccup.

Dagur ran around, listening for any Hiccupy whimpers which could alert him to the location of the little viking. On the way, he picked up a sword from a fallen warrior to use. His knives were good, but they were too small for this. He heard something and followed it, seeing a vicious Hideous Zippleback. One head started to spew gas, but before the other could ignite it, Dagur cut off the head. Hiccup uncovered his eyes and saw that the threat had been neutralized.

"Dagur?" he asked, feeling like his eyes were deceiving him.

"Get in its mouth," the older boy ordered.

"What?!"

"It's dead, it can't eat you, but the other ones will if they see you. They won't if you're in there."

Hiccup did not have time to do as he was told since Dagur was already shoving him between the dead creature's fangs. The Berkian's stomach was queasy as he smelled the dragon's foul breath and a chill went down his spine with the realization that he was in a dragon's mouth. As he was there, Dagur left to join the battle. He was laughing crazily and slashed every dragon he saw, letting their entrails fall to the floor before he moved onto the next one. His laughter faded as something occurred to him. Despite his efforts and everyone else's, nothing seemed to be changing.

"What's going on?" he wondered. "They don't seem to care that we're killing them. They just keep attacking. What do they want?"

Looking around, Dagur saw several dragons by the trading posts and farms. They were stealing yaks, sheep, and fish. He tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"The Berkians are losing a lot of vikings. If this doesn't change soon, there might not be any left."

The boy's eyes lit up with an idea and he ran off towards the stands. He quickly searched the barrels and grabbed two, taking them with him to one side of the island. Then, he ran to the fish, letting out a Berserker battle cry that caught the attention of the dragons even amongst the chaos. He lifted one of the stands with the seafood and began leading it back to where he had gone. This kept getting repeated and though it did not attract every single reptile, the vast majority followed where the food was going.

"That's right, " he whispered, smirking. "You know you want this."

Dagur set down the fish and got out of the way so that the dragons would continue to gather. As they did, he jumped up and snatched the arrow Hiccup had put in the Monstrous Nightmare out of its neck. The dragon roared at him and shot a blast. Using this to light the end of the arrow on fire, Dagur threw it into the barrel of blasting jelly. Almost instantly, it exploded. The explosion wounded any dragon it did not kill in the area and chased off those who heard the sound and saw the carnage. Watching them fly off, Dagur cheered in triumph. He was in such a state of joy that he did not notice Oswald until he was right next to him.

"What is wrong with you?!" the man bellowed, shocking the younger viking.

"Huh?"

Oswald was seething and seemed ready to explode much like the barrel. "You destroyed the stands! That was months' worth of fish!"

"The dragons were going after it–"

"Which is why we were fighting them, not ruining the Berkians' food supply!"

Dagur felt at a loss for words. "I-I wasn't trying to do that. At least they're alive. They can always go fishing again. It would've been pretty difficult if the dragons picked off everyone first."

"Don't you dare try to justify what you did." Oswald looked around, seeing the damaged state of the Great Hall. "Hiccup," he said, turning ashen.

"He's fine. I put him in a Zippleback's mouth."

"You what?!"

Oswald appeared as though he would have killed the other viking in that moment, but he was too worried about the little Berkian. After hearing the sounds of the fight stop, Hiccup had left his nasty safe spot and made sure his father and Gobber were fine. To his relief, they were. He also saw the relieved look on Oswald's face when he saw him. This look changed to one of resentment when he turned to look at his son.

"You're reckless," he said coldly. "Reckless, wild, and idiotic on your best days, but what you've done today was unacceptable. What is it? Are you jealous of Hiccup? Is that why you tried to kill him and why you have every time?"

"I don't try to–"

"I'm not done!" Oswald snarled. Calming down with a deep breath, he started speaking again. "There is something wrong with you that I do not know how to fix. You aren't thoughtful or level-headed or anything a leader should be. You're something else entirely."

Dagur glared at his father. "Right because you'd just want me to invent things all day and talk with you about how we can have peace with everything and everyone. Guess what? That's not me, Dad. I'm not a diplomat or an inventor. I'm not the calm son you've always wanted. I'm not Hiccup!"

The Berserker just looked him in the eyes with an emotionless stare. "No, you're not," he said evenly. "You're just a disgrace."

For several moments, Dagur was quiet and still. There was not a glare on his face but instead a look of shock. Silently, he turned and walked away towards the forest. Their ship had been destroyed, so Oswald would have to use one of Berk's to get back. While he tended to that, Dagur wanted some time alone. He found a tree and brought out a knife, slashing its trunk. Each slash got angrier and angrier. Despite the fact that the adrenaline had faded, he still barely felt his earlier injuries, focusing only on this task. The boy yelled furiously and kept going until the large tree hit the ground. His breaths were heavy and his face felt wet. Without even realizing it, several tears had fallen. The viking wiped them away with the back of his hand, but they were quickly replaced and a soft sob caught in his throat. Instead of letting it out, he let out another battle cry and went to attack a different tree as though it were an enemy. Hearing something behind him, Dagur turned to attack another dragon. Hiccup raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't throw it!" the Berkian requested, seeing the lifted knife.

Dagur lowered his arm and turned back around, not wanting the other heir to see his red eyes. "Go away, Hiccup," he said, sounding more sad than angry like he had hoped.

Hiccup did not listen and got closer cautiously. He had heard what Oswald said. Some of it at least. He wanted to tell the redhead thanks for helping him, but he was almost not sure how to word it. The situation seemed so strange. With a low head, the Berserker did not seem scary as he usually did. That was easier to deal with in a way. Sad Dagur was foreign to Hiccup and he was unsure how to proceed.

"Thanks," he settled on.

Dagur did not answer and sniffed, trying to slyly wipe his eyes again without being spotted.

"A-are you okay?" Hiccup asked, reaching out a hand to place on the other viking's shoulder.

This made the Berserker spin around with a glare, smacking his hand away.

"'Okay?' I'm perfect!" he cackled wildly. "Better than perfect. Can't think of a time when I've felt this good. So good in fact that I don't even know if I'm done attacking things."

A dangerous look appeared in his eyes and Hiccup moved back. Dagur stepped forward menacingly.

"I might even change from dragons to people," he threatened.

Hiccup gasped and ran off back towards the village. When he was gone, Dagur let out a sigh and fell to his knees. He was not planning on attacking the smaller boy. He just knew Hiccup would believe that he would and wanted to not be bothered. Taking a few shaky breaths, he wiped off the last of the tears and finished destroying the tree before heading back to the village. His father had been given another ship by Stoick and Dagur got on, not looking at Oswald once before heading to the bottom. He sat down and began sharpening his knives.

"I'm not a disgrace," he said bitterly, feeling his throat become sore again at the thought. "I'm something but not that." He stopped and sighed, bringing a hand over his eyes. "I just don't know what."