The night went as they usually did and the morning was the same as the previous one. Like before, Dagur listened to what the elderly couple wanted and did not complain…aloud. Fortunately, the fact that their daughter was gone made it easier, but the boy still felt uncomfortable due to the disgusted looks they were giving him. When the husband approached, he glared at the Berserker.

"You defiled our daughter," he accused.

Dagur continued building. "Not my call," he thought.

"Get down here and answer us, you ruffian," the wife ordered.

The younger viking stopped working on the roof, sighing. He jumped down, trying to not glare at them.

"Sorry," Dagur said, not meaning his apology for one moment.

Despite his insincerity, he said it convincingly enough to trick the couple.

"At least you feel appropriately ashamed." The husband shooed him away. "Back to the roof. I don't want to hear anymore about that awful day."

The pair hugged each other and left, looking completely distraught with the information. Dagur let the thought of decapitating them go through his mind. He could not hold onto ideas like those for long. They just made it more difficult to play nice. Climbing back up the home, he returned to what he was doing.

"You and me both," he mumbled.

The couple kept true to their word about not discussing it even once more. Dagur worked in relative silence for the rest of the day. While he did, Hiccup was on Berk, flying with Toothless to find the chief on one of his flights to confirm that the island was safe. The Night Fury's speed helped them find the man and Thunderdrum. Stoick's face brightened when he saw them.

"Hiccup," he greeted, "I didn't expect you to join us."

"I know I normally don't, but I was thinking about something with Berk."

"What was it?"

"Do you think it could possibly be a good thing to have other traders in addition to Johann come here? If anything ever happened to him, we'd already have supplies on the way still and not even to mention the potential knowledge we could gain from other lands. For instance, if they discovered that not bathing for months was deadly, we might not have to fight with Gobber and the twins so much."

The father chuckled and looked thoughtful. "I hadn't considered that, but I'll admit you make a good point. I trust Johann, but he's still just a man. He's not immortal. Our people would be at risk if something suddenly happened to him and we had no one else to turn to."

"So," Hiccup pressed eagerly, "you like the idea?"

"I do. What made you come up with it?"

The boy laughed nervously. "Oh, you know me…always thinking about ways to change Berk for the better."

Stoick frowned slightly. "Did something happen?"

"Something happen? No, nothing besides the idea."

Despite not believing him, the chief was not able to ask anything else before Hiccup and Toothless flew off. The trainer patted the dragon's head gratefully.

"Thanks, Bud. Got us out of there just in time."

They went back to the Academy and managed to let the night go by without being asked more about the suggestion. The week had nearly passed entirely and Dagur was able to get the bulk of his work done, hearing no more mention of the daughter. Still, he knew the couple was angry with him because even though he was doing everything they requested, they found reasons to complain.

"I don't like that color," the man whined.

It was not the first time he had made that complaint, but Dagur had already spent the past two hours trying to find a color he preferred to no avail. Just as he would get closer, the wife would return and make a comment about how ugly it looked. The worker wanted to curse them out, but he remembered what Alvin had said and decided to stay polite. He had been doing well. Despite how irritating they were, he did not lash out or do anything which could even remotely be interpreted as aggressive. It hurt his pride, but so had everything he experienced since getting arrested. All in all, they were better than Alvin and his Outcasts. They did not hit him or ruin anything he made. Dagur knew it was less out of kindness than it was practicality. Why break his hand if he was supposed to hammer in some nails? So, they found subtler ways to make his day unpleasant like insults and displays of dissatisfaction.

"What color do you want it to be?" he asked, keeping the sneer off his face.

"I don't know. I guess it is getting late and you clearly have no sense of taste. You haven't found anything nice yet. Just make it red. There's paint out back."

The Berserker nodded and went to get the necessary materials.

"Stupid old people," he thought. "Have me out here painting a house. I should be painting it red with their blood."

Just as he reached the location, the Outcasts followed him over. One kicked over a container of paint, laughing.

"Didn't know you were a klutz," he lied. "Clean up this mess before going back over there."

Dagur grumbled under his breath and fixed the mess. It was always the same with the Outcasts. They loved messing with him even though he stayed on good behavior. He wondered if the good behavior made it more fun for them. Regardless, they were better than Alvin. They would taunt; he would attack. In the days that had passed, the nights were all filled with the same tortures he had grown to expect. Just the previous night, Alvin had nearly broken his left foot. The Berserker had been spending his time in between the attacks and work by doing exercises. It would take time to get bigger, but he had plenty of time on his hands and would not stop until he was able to beat the Outcast leader. One day, he would be the viking to spill blood.

Dagur was nearly finished with the homes. Things would not have been so bad if the pangs of hunger were not so annoying. The loss of blood, lack of food, and manual work was an uncomfortable combination. He doubted Alvin would let him starve to death, but he wondered if there was going to be a meal in his near future and preferably one without contamination. All he was given was some dirty water, but that just made him fight back queasiness. If he was going to be kept alive, he wanted to be doing a little more than just barely surviving.

The former chief could pretend like he was becoming weak, but actually not being able to do anything was not an option. What he needed was just something to get a little bit of energy inside of him. Then, he could finish the work faster as well. Unfortunately, there were not many places he could go which lacked the eyes of the Outcast chaperones. Everywhere the Berserker turned, there they were, messing up something or just staring at him to be sure he was not doing anything they did not want him to do. Dagur finished painting and turned to the clients.

"Is this how you want everything? Really?"

"Yeah."

The older vikings stopped, looking suddenly unsure.

"What's wrong with it?"

Shrugging, the Berserker looked bored. "Nothing I guess. It's just pretty bland. This whole island is. Don't you have any gardens or anything or do you just eat fish?"

"We have gardens."

"I haven't seen any."

"We don't have many."

"Don't really want to not starve, huh? Your choice. Weird one, though."

The vikings looked angry and crossed their arms.

"You'll learn that talking isn't always the best decision," the woman said. "You still belong to us until the day after tomorrow and since you've been making good time with the homes, I think you should do something else."

The man pointed towards a home with a fruit and vegetable garden. "Start with harvesting those and then take some seeds to make more. There's a clearing near the forest. That'll be where you put everything. Make it look identical to this one."

Nodding, Dagur went off to the garden. He kept his smile from showing, but on the inside, he was laughing up a storm. The other vikings walked to the homes to inspect them as the Berserker went to the crops. Dagur noticed that the Outcasts were doing the same. The idea of gardening bored them, so he lacked an audience. In front of him were root vegetables and some berry bushes. Dagur recognized these berries as being the same that would grow on Berserker Island. They grew a lot and were difficult to notice when someone took some. It was always a challenge the other kids tried that he found incredibly dull since it was so easy. Why steal berries? Stealing axes and returning them without being noticed was way more fun. Dagur almost had to chuckle at himself. All that time avoiding the stupid game and there he was.

"Well," he thought, "this is pretty different."

Smoothly, he swiped a handful of berries. They were tart, but they were also delicious and filled with nutrients. The juice alone felt like he had just gone to Valhalla. They would do well for his purposes. If he was sure Alvin would not have found them, he would have taken some back, but that was not something he was going to chance. So, he got back to work collecting the rest. The other crops were too large. They would be noticed if some went missing. Dagur knew he could not try to take anything else when he heard the man approaching. With a frown, he just put the rest of the items in a basket near a hut.

"Make sure you remember what this looks like when you make the gardens up there. Have you ever even worked as a farmer?"

"I've planted before. My dad would have me help the Berserker farmers."

"To keep you out of trouble, no doubt."

"Probably."

The other viking scoffed. "I'm surprised he didn't just want you to start learning how to kill people."

"My dad didn't kill people if he didn't have to."

"He was a Berserker. They're all like that."

Dagur scowled at the veggies. "My dad wasn't. Would've been better if he was."

The buyer shrugged. "Maybe he wasn't a killer. Is that why you killed him?"

Annoyance clawed at the prisoner. "Maybe."

Satisfied, the other viking stopped speaking for a bit, making it easier for the worker to not try to mentally convince himself to not kill him. As he worked, Hiccup and Toothless were working on new moves in the air. This was how they had spent their week. With no Berserkers to fight, they had a lot of time to train. They actually just had a lot of time in general. It was almost boring. The two landed, then saw Astrid and Stormfly who were doing a round of surveillance to see if anything was wrong.

"No threats anywhere?" Hiccup asked.

"No, it's all clear."

The heir glanced out at the horizon. "Do you ever wonder what's beyond the archipelago?"

"Not really, but I guess there are more vikings out there."

"Most likely. There might be new kinds of people unlike anyone we could imagine. There could even be other people who want to protect dragons. We'll never know unless we explore."

Astrid's expression became worried. "There could also be a lot of danger out there. It's completely uncharted water."

"Not completely. Alvin goes to the Southern Markets. I've heard of the Northern Markets too and this one place called Defenders of the Wing Island."

"Why did Alvin mention that?"

Hiccup realized his error. "Well, he didn't necessarily say it."

"Dagur did?" When he nodded, Astrid frowned. "Why did you talk to him?"

"I was already there to help the Terrible Terror."

"Was that the first time you two talked since he got arrested?"

Hiccup inhaled sharply with a sheepish look on his face. "Would you believe me if I said it was?"

"Not for a second. Why are you talking to him? He tried to kill you."

"I know, but it's just really different talking to him in the cell. He doesn't seem like himself anymore."

"Of course he doesn't. He's chained up and disgraced. Despite that, he'll probably always be arrogant. I said he belongs in a cage. Now, he's finally in one."

Hiccup cringed a little at the harshness of her tone. "But…what if we're looking at things from just our perspective?"

"He broke the treaty and attacked. There's not really another perspective to view that with."

"What about his?"

Astrid looked at the boy like he had lost his mind as well. "I'm supposed to side with Dagur now?"

"Not side with him, but when we were talking, he was telling me why he attacked and it sort of made sense in a messed up way. We know that we'd never attack another tribe with our dragons just to conquer them, but he didn't know that."

"Then, he should have said that instead of assuming and then attacking us."

"What if we lied like we did about having dragons?"

The blonde paused, unsure. "We've earned his trust by now."

"How? We never really spent time together outside of the peace treaty signings. I don't know much about him. He couldn't know about me either. We didn't even know that Oswald wasn't chief anymore."

"Which he should have told us about as soon as it happened."

"Maybe, but then he could say the same thing about us not telling the Berserkers that we had dragons."

"They would have attacked."

"We don't know that."

"They did attack."

"Because we kept it a secret and lied. You have to admit that we were acting pretty suspiciously with the dragons. It's a lot to ask someone to ignore all that deception and trust us to not use our extremely powerful advantages to go after them."

Astrid frowned at him. "I think you've been talking to him for too long. The second you can understand what Dagur's thinking, you know you need some space."

"It's not that I understand him. I don't think I ever will and I don't want to, but I'm just wondering if he deserves to be there."

"Hiccup, if he gets out of jail, he'll go right back to hunting you and Toothless."

"I don't want him to get out of jail, but Alvin being his jailer isn't right."

"You'd really rather him be here?" the girl asked doubtfully.

"Sort of. If he escapes, we'll immediately know. They say to keep your enemies close. He's not close if he's on Outcast Island. Alvin is still a new ally again for Berk. Maybe they're working together again. Dagur could have gotten in his head."

Astrid looked unconvinced. "That's not why you really want him to be here, is it?"

"I also think he might have the potential to be more than our enemy."

"You aren't serious," Astrid said, appalled.

"I am. He apologized."

"For the war?"

"No, but he apologized for all the knife throwing and drowning attempts. I think he meant it."

"He probably knew you'd think that and that's why he did it."

"What if he did mean it?"

"Hiccup, him being a jerk years ago really isn't a big deal in comparison to him raging war. If he doesn't know that's a problem, then his other apology is worthless."

"He also told me about the reading he's done about the world. It was a good idea to get more traders and information. I told my dad about it."

"I'm going to assume you didn't tell him who gave you that idea."

"No, he would've dismissed it immediately, but he liked it when he thought it came from me." Hiccup sighed and looked down. "I also think Alvin's torturing him."

"Good."

"Good?"

"He would have done the same thing to you."

"Then, isn't doing what he would have done basically the same as thinking like him?"

The blonde hesitated with her answer. "All I know is, he's a psychotic killer. If he got in over his head by working with and betraying Alvin, that's on him. You shouldn't feel bad about it. It wasn't even your decision for him to go there."

Before Hiccup could say anything else, Astrid and Stormfly took off to return to the town. The Berkian heir glanced down at Toothless.

"You saw him, Bud. What do you think? Am I talking crazy or should things change?"

The Night Fury looked as uncertain as his friend felt. This caused Hiccup to sigh.

"Hopefully, we'll figure it out."

They flew off for the center of Berk, both still thinking about this issue. That night, Dagur had almost completed all of the work on the island. When Alvin arrived, he was annoyed to see the good state of the buildings. It would have been easier if they had been horrible, but they did look nice and he also noticed the new gardens. Bitterly, he began attaching the chains and returning to the ship. The voyage was as quiet as the others had been that week.

"The homes looked terrible," Alvin lied.

Dagur only glanced at him, then out at the water. He could insult his work as much as he wanted and he had that entire week. Who cared? Before, the jabs would have triggered an angry response, but when nights were filled with slices, punches, and more, a lot was put into perspective like what really hurt. The man found this irritating. Alvin could tell that the prisoner was not silent due to a broken spirit. He simply did not want to provoke the Outcast. When they got back to the prison, Alvin undid the chains and left the cell to Dagur's surprise. He was gone for a few moments, then returned. When he did, Dagur's surprise only multiplied. The guards were there with him.

"Teach him a lesson," Alvin ordered, widening the bars for them to enter.

Dagur moved back, frowning. "For what?"

"You know not to fight back."

At this, the Berserker's temper flared and he balled his hands into fists. "What are they going to 'teach me a lesson' for? I haven't done anything! You tell me to build homes, I built them. You say to watch my mouth, I've been well-mannered. You have me not fight back when you attack me, I don't. What am I doing wrong now?"

Alvin went to the bars. "You're not breaking and that's the biggest offense you could commit."

Distraught, the boy stepped back further from the vikings. They had maces. When one swung, he dodged. When the next one came, he caught it. All he had to do was disarm the viking and use the weapon to kill the others.

"You know the deal, Dagur," Alvin reminded him.

Sadly, the prisoner let go. This let the other viking use the weapon again, landing a hit this time. The rest began to join in, hitting his ribs, back, and head the most. Dagur heard ringing in his ears and tasted blood. His hands kept wanting to ball into fists and be used to attack the Outcasts. Instead of doing that, he put them over his head, attempting to shield it as much as he could. It did not work very well and he was promptly ordered to lower his arms back to his side. After some time had passed, Alvin banged on the bars with his sword.

"Enough," he told them. "The boy won't be able to take much more and we don't want to kill him."

As the Outcasts left, Dagur stayed on the ground for a moment, just trying to enjoy a moment of no pain being inflicted. The peace was not there for long as he sensed someone standing over top of him. Peeking with an eye, he saw Alvin. He started sitting up, but he was grabbed and kept in place.

"Open your mouth."

The Berserker paled and shook his head. Alvin took out his sword and set the blade by the viking's right foot.

"I can remove your stomach's contents or body parts. Your choice."

"But you haven't given me anything since last week!"

"It's not about that. It's just about making sure you don't get comfortable here."

"I can assure you that I'm not."

Alvin's glare did not leave his face, grip on the sword becoming more ready for use. Dagur miserably gestured around them.

"You won, Al. I'm not a chief anymore, I'll never see my home again, and I'm your prisoner. You won. I know that. You know that. Everyone who sees us knows that. When will the thrill of victory run out? When can all of this end?"

He received no verbal answer. All that happened was that the tip of the sword entered his mouth, cutting his cheek.

"You talk too much," Alvin complained. "If I cut out your tongue, you won't."

The Outcast felt a tremble go through the prisoner as the blade rested against his tongue. With a smile, he removed the blade and replaced it with his finger. The first time, this just caused dry heaving on all fours, but that was not enough, so Alvin grabbed the viking again. The second time brought success even though it was mostly just bile. Unlike before, the Outcast stayed for its duration. When the Berserker was done, his arms seemed unable to keep him up. Alvin was still glaring at him.

"Why?" Dagur inquired pitifully. "You want me to work. Why make me weak?"

"Because I want things to be as difficult for you as they can be, Dagur. You turned on me. You'll suffer for that."

"Forever?"

"Yes."

The Berserker's eyes lowered and a frown crossed his face. Not saying anything else, he laid down. He felt too dizzy to stand. Alvin snarled at him.

"I expected more of a response."

"You know I don't want to be here," the boy said. "Me reminding you won't change anything."

"So, you're used to this now," the Outcast said bitterly.

"I'll never get used to it."

"But you still have hope, don't you?"

"What's there to be hopeful about?"

"Deep down, you still think that there's going to be a day when you're out of this prison, but it's not going to happen. You'll die here."

Again, Dagur said nothing. It just made Alvin more frustrated. He scowled, then an idea came to mind.

"So many things are different now. I'm trying to be a better leader to my Outcasts now. Threaten their lives a lot less and things like that. I think it's time I let them have some fun. Come on over, everyone," he called, smiling sinisterly.

Dagur did not like the sound of them having fun and despite the feeling of weakness, he sat more upright. The seven guards were coming to the cell. His face scrunched up in concern.

"I thought you didn't want them to kill me?"

Alvin had a look of feigned innocence. "I don't. Keep your weapons, men, but your ultimate goal won't be cutting him to pieces this time or clubbing him even though that should be part of this."

The prisoner felt himself becoming more concerned. "What are you talking about?"

Alvin started stalking over to him. The Berserker began trying to move towards the wall. Even though it was a dead end, it was in the opposite direction of the Outcasts which also made it preferable.

"Pay attention," Alvin told the others. "It'll be your turn when I'm done."

Dagur's heart kept pounding as realization dawned on him. A laugh built in his core until it escaped.

"The beatings prove your point pretty well," he insisted. "Why go beyond that?"

"Don't kid yourself. You're the youngest and the smallest here by far. It was only a matter of time."

The prisoner kept backing away, expression going from doubtful to worried. "This isn't funny, Al."

"Then, why are you laughing?"

"I really don't know," he admitted between cackles.

The last thing he found this situation to be was comical and yet he could not stop laughing. It was all he could do. He was already as far back as he could go without using a Whispering Death to burrow through the earth and he still was not able to fight if he did not want the Berserkers to be slain. Even if he could fight, he knew he would not be able to defeat the Outcast leader and all his men and that was before the injuries. Alvin kept approaching, scowling.

"Stop laughing."

Dagur clamped his hands over his mouth, stifling the sound until it became chuckles only. He glanced at the guards, then Alvin again.

"I'm sorry I betrayed you," he said, finally getting the laughter to stop.

"No, you're not."

"Sorry for lying just now then. I'll be sorry for whatever you want me to be," he said, feeling more and more desperate.

Alvin was ignoring him and Dagur noticed that he had started breathing faster. It felt like he was hyperventilating. The guards began entering too. The cell was able to fit them all. There was nowhere to run to get away from them.

Alvin explained both to the prisoner and guards, "Clearly, my original plan didn't work. Adaptation means the difference between success and failure. When the looks of fire and hope are out of your eyes, that'll mean we've done our job well."

"I won't try to attack anyone," the Berserker promised.

"You've finally said something truthful," the Outcast said, smirking. The expression faded as coldness appeared on his face. "But we're way past the point of that making a difference."

Alvin reached for Dagur who waited until the last moment to make a dash for the exit. He nearly got there, but the other guards closed the bars and prevented an attempt of getting through by blocking the area with their bodies. Sensing another reach coming for him, he dodged. The guards surrounded him, one hitting him in the head with a club twice and causing him to become dazed. The next time Alvin went for his neck, Dagur was not fast enough to move. He struggled against the grip and tried to pull away from him.

"Alvin, don't!" he shouted desperately. "I'll be good! I'll stop having fire in me!"

The Outcast held his throat tightly in one hand, making the pleas silent when he could not breathe in enough air to speak. The boy's eyes were wide and held terror in them despite how much he tried to hide that.

"No need to be scared, Dagur," he said. "You're deranged. I wouldn't even be surprised if you found yourself enjoying this."