Morning came too soon. Hardly a few hours had passed before Alvin returned. He had two items in his hands as he entered the prison and went to the last cell. He tossed a piece of bread onto the floor and set down a cup of water.

"Eat up," he ordered.

"I'm not hungry," the prisoner said, crossing his arms.

"I'm not asking."

Grumbling, the Berserker went over to the food. He had doubted that Alvin was going to give him any food at all, so maybe it would have been best to not push that luck. The boy realized just how good his luck was when he was able to look at what had been brought. Scrunching up his face, he pushed the bread away from him.

"It's infested with bugs!"

"I know that," the Outcast calmly stated.

Dagur looked at him, appalled. "I'm not eating bug bread." He peeked down at the water. "And this is contaminated too. It's filled with dirt. What did you do? Finally clean off one of your disgusting Berk rejects and then give me the bath water?"

Alvin was not amused by this and appeared as much. "You're forgetting that you're in there while I'm free and able to do whatever I want…to any group of currently unprotected vikings."

Face full of hatred, the trapped viking unhappily looked down at what was being passed off as food. "Why do I have to eat this?"

"Just do it and don't think you'll get away with stuffing it in some part of your mouth. I'll know and will consider it a reason to show the Berserkers that their former chief doesn't care about them."

Bitterly, Dagur grabbed the bread and closed his eyes. "I can do this," he thought. "Maybe if I don't have to look at their squirming, crawling, slimy…"

His eyes opened as he felt one on his finger. Disgusted, he dropped the bread.

"You're not avoiding this so easily."

"I don't eat contaminated food! I'm a chief!"

"Not anymore you're not. You're just a prisoner, so you'll do what you're told," Alvin said, pointing to the two items. "Eat."

Dagur wanted to go through the bars and kill Alvin, but he knew he could not. Miserably, he picked the bread back up, quickly flinging the one bug out and away from him before the jailer could notice. It did not make a large difference, but this was still an improvement. Thinking of everything but what he was eating, Dagur ate the bread. He then quickly drank the water, feeling a chill go down his spine afterwards. Immediately, he felt ill, but he hardly ever got sick, so he did not plan on changing from that. He could tell that getting sick in front of Alvin would be even worse than the usually unpleasant experience.

Watching him for a moment, Alvin left. He was gone for several hours. During this time, the nausea was getting worse and worse. Dagur felt hot and cold and sounds were muffled in his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep off the effects, but this seemed impossible. Loud footsteps told him of a certain viking's return. Promptly, the bars were unlocked and opened. Dagur painfully opened an eye to look at the Outcast. Alvin was towering over him and stepped on his stomach before he could move. Struggling, the redhead still did not do anything besides grunt in discomfort. Alvin was too heavy to roll under from, so he was just stuck like that.

"Don't bite me or the Berserkers die," he threatened, confusing the prisoner.

Dagur did not have time to ask any questions as a finger was shoved down his throat. He nearly forgot about the threat, but he remembered in time and pushed Alvin away instead.

"What are you doing?!"

"Getting you to throw up."

"Why?" Dagur asked, as lost as he was queasy.

"Because you've no doubt had a chief's feast recently and I don't want you to have any food to have energy from. You'll only get what I give you, so I need what's in your stomach to come out."

"It will eventually."

"I'm not a patient viking. So, like I said, don't bite me."

Dagur glanced around, looking for somewhere to move, but there was nowhere. The cell was too small and Alvin was too large. He also was too dizzy to properly maneuver. A handful of his hair was caught and used to pull him back. As soon as he was, Alvin resumed his plan, overpowering the smaller viking. He moved back his hand as Dagur doubled over. The boy had never gotten so sick before, but it felt like he was getting rid of his guts. Blood soon combined, but the Berserker could not stop. Alvin got bored and left the cell, smiling at the sounds. After what felt like his body could take no more, Dagur stopped. He was exhausted and scooted away from the mess, leaning against the cell bars and breathing heavily. Some of the Outcast prisoners were mumbling. One with a voice which the Berserker found particularly annoying began talking.

"Aw, the baby chief has an upset stomach?"

Dagur angrily turned to the viking to tell him to shut up, but he could not get it out before another wave of nausea hit him. As he added to the mess in the cell, he heard the sound of the Outcast guards laughing. He was furious, but he could only be furious. He could not do anything–not to the taunting prisoners, laughing guards, or satisfied Alvin. He just had to wait it all out. Soon enough, he stopped again and for good this time. A feeling of physical weakness hit him and it was difficult to stand. Dagur decided he would not try to, instead deciding to wait until he felt better. After a couple of hours, he heard footsteps again.

"On your feet," Alvin told him.

Dagur could not if he wanted to and he did not. He just grunted at the Outcast, scowling as he faintly heard the sound of the cell bars being pushed open. Metal clanging rang in his ears due to the closeness. Feeling a coldness on his neck, the Berserker realized a chain had been attached to him. Alvin yanked, pulling Dagur upwards and right off the ground. The former chief grabbed the chain, trying to take some of the pressure off his neck. Alvin lowered him back down and glared before attaching more chains to keep his arms behind his back.

"We're leaving."

"We are?" Horror flashed in the younger viking's eyes. "I'm leaving like this?"

The Outcast just began grinning. "What's the problem, Dagur? Afraid you won't look like much of a chief? You're not one so that doesn't matter."

Dagur was about to protest, but he was stopped by another rough yank. This one began dragging him out of the cell and with Alvin who was heading for one of the ships. Soon, the prisoner saw it was not working to fight and decided it would be easier to just walk with him. That did not mean that some unnecessary yanks were not used, though. When they got to the vessel, he saw Alvin attach the chain to the base of the floor and go to the helm of the ship. Dagur looked over the edge of the ship. Berserker Island was that way. If he squinted hard enough, maybe he could see something.

"Where are we going?"

"The Southern Markets."

"You know," Dagur said, a twinkle in his eyes, "if you want something from there, I could go get it for you and come back."

"You won't trick me twice, boy. Besides, I'm not going to get something."

"You're not?"

"Not at all."

"Then, why are we going?"

Alvin did not answer. Nervously, Dagur looked back at the chain. It was too thick for him to break without an ax and he had none of those near him. He did not even have his knives anymore. If he could get Alvin's sword, maybe he could free himself. Only, the chances of that seemed highly unlikely.

"Don't even think about escaping," the Outcast warned. "You flee and it's war against your Berserkers. Don't want that, do you?"

Dagur growled at him and looked away. He doubted that there would have been much he could have done even if he did break the chain. Their last fight was only won by him since he had the Skrill. If only the Berkians had not taken his dragon from him. If only they had decided to execute him instead.

The ship docked at the Southern Markets and Alvin unattached the chain from the ground so that they could disembark. Dagur wanted to stay there, but he could not. He could hear the other vikings on the island. The Berserker was glad that his hair was down because he hoped it was covering his face. He had never gone to the Southern Markets, but he had planned on going there and to the Northern Markets in the future. To go from being a chief to a prisoner was humiliating, but it was only being made worse by others seeing him like that. Hopefully, no one knew about Berserkers or would recognize him.

Alvin led the way to the center of the island. When he got there, he began calling other vikings over to them. They seemed intrigued by the pair and approached.

"This is the former chief of the Berserkers," Alvin said, making Dagur's face turn bright red. "He's my prisoner now, so I'm going to get some use out of him. Obviously, he's got all his limbs, so if any of you are missing some, you can use one of his for a good price."

The Berserker's head snapped to look at Alvin. "What?!"

When the vikings approached him, he pulled back to get away, but the grip on his chain kept him where he was. Alvin used it to drag him closer to the potential buyers. One grabbed his right arm to inspect the limb. The other viking let go and grabbed at his mouth. Biting, the Berserker made them both move back. This caused Alvin to snarl and backhand him. If not for the chain, the force would have flung him. Instead, the tautness of the chain kept him from going far. As Alvin lifted him up, he kicked, hoping he would hit him or at least one of the other people.

"Don't forget about those Berserkers," Alvin warned.

When he said this, Dagur's eyes widened in remembrance. Hesitantly, he stopped kicking and Alvin smiled.

"Better. Now, be good for the customers."

He let the prisoner fall back to the ground and the other viking wasted no time in checking his teeth again.

"They're clean," the buyer said. "I'm missing some of mine from the back."

Reaching into a bag he had with him, the buyer took out a tool that made Dagur's face turn pale. "What's that?"

Neither the buyer nor Alvin answered, but the Berserker soon knew when it entered his mouth and clamped down on a molar tooth. With a powerful pull, it was removed. Dagur grunted in pain, but it was not over yet. One more was wanted from the other side. When the extraction was done, he could taste a lot of blood in his mouth and spat out as much as he could. He wanted to spit it at Alvin, but he did not risk that. Some coins passed the buyer's hand to Alvin's.

"Does anyone else want something?" the Outcast asked.

No one seemed interested, so Alvin started bringing Dagur back to the ship.

"You tried to act up today," he said unhappily.

"Well, I'm sorry if I like my teeth in my mouth," Dagur said sarcastically, not even enjoying talking at the moment.

"It's not your mouth anymore."

The youth just ignored him and haughtily puffed up. "Maybe if yours weren't rotten, you could sell them too."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Alvin left the helm to walk over to the other viking. "If I choose to sell something, it's mine to sell. It's not yours. Next time we go there, someone might want fingers or an entire arm. I better not see you try to hurt them again."

The Outcast lifted a foot and kicked the prisoner in the ribs several times. It felt like they were breaking. He undid the green binding around the left arm. Alvin sprained the shoulder, then began pushing the arm against the way the joint bent, but he stopped before it could break.

"Can't do that just yet," he said, letting go. "Someone might want this arm. If they don't, then I can." The Outcast looked at the helm. "I can't spend the entire voyage back doing this since I need to steer, but that doesn't mean your punishment is over."

Alvin took the chain and attached it high on the mast. Dagur had to stand on his toes to not risk having his neck broken. Smiling, the older viking went back to the helm. As he brought them to Outcast Island, Hiccup's thoughts were already there. He had not felt right since the previous night for whatever reason. The festivities had seemed almost in poor taste to him. Perhaps he felt bad for the other Berserkers who would have no leader now because of Dagur's actions. Hiccup was not sure why he felt that way, but he wanted it to stop.

"I've got it," he thought. "If I see Dagur and he's…himself, then I won't feel bad anymore."

The Berkian looked at Toothless. As always, the Night Fury knew what he was planning and had a disapproving look on his face already.

"I know this is a terrible idea, but I just need to be reminded of a few things. It's just a quick visit, Bud."

Reluctantly, Toothless moved his back towards Hiccup so that the viking could hop onto the saddle. With a smile, he did and they took off for the island. The flight was not long and soon they were walking into the prison. Hiccup greeted some of the Outcast guards on the outside who smiled upon seeing him.

"Can I talk with Dagur?"

"I don't see why not," one mentioned, moving to let him enter. "He's in the very back."

"Maybe you should wait here, Toothless," he said, turning to the dragon. "I'm expecting Dagur to say something he shouldn't, but I wouldn't want you to be tempted to fry him for it."

Toothless looked unhappy with this decision, but he stood guard by the entrance. Hiccup went deeper into the prison, smelling the horrible odors from the group of prisoners. He glanced in the cells, seeing some unsavory-looking people as he did. At first, the Berkian did not realize how large the prison was, but he finally saw someone walking towards him. With mild surprise, Alvin regarded the viking and wiped his hands on his pants.

"Hiccup? I didn't expect to see you. What brings you by? Is something wrong?"

"Technically, there's nothing wrong. I just wanted to see Dagur."

"Why?"

The Berkian was not prepared for followup questions. Alvin seemed to sense his lack of knowing how to respond and shrugged.

"Fine, but I'm not sure if he's in much of a talking mood for once. I've got some matters to deal with regarding the Outcasts, so just let me know when you're leaving."

"I can do that."

Alvin began exiting the prison and Hiccup kept going where he had seen him coming from, assuming that was where Dagur's cell was located. He was proven correct in this. It was dark in the cell, so he could hardly see, but he did see some stains on the floor. He was not sure what they were, but he did not have long to consider this before he heard a voice.

"Are you here to transfer me?"

Hiccup squinted to try to see the viking. Dagur was almost hidden in the shadows, sitting and leaning against the wall. The left side of his face was turned to him. The Berkian could see enough to tell that his hair was out and clothes already were torn. It was weird seeing him look like that. For as long as he had known him, despite the wild nature of his mind and behavior, he always was presentable. Hiccup could no longer say that about the Berserker.

"Well, are you?" Dagur asked, impatient.

"No, I'm not."

"Then, why are you wasting my time?"

"It's not like you've got somewhere better to be," Hiccup retorted.

"I've got an entire tribe to lead. How's that not better than this?"

The Berkian frowned at him. "I guess I should have said that it's not like you don't have a lot of time on your hands."

Dagur crossed his arms, somewhat painfully due to his shoulder. He turned towards the wall. The prisoner was unsure if it was more because he did not want to look at Hiccup or because he did not want Hiccup to see the cut.

"So, you came here to make fun of me," the former chief said bitterly. "I should've expected that. It's all you've been doing since you got those stupid dragons."

"They're not stupid. That's also not why I'm here."

"Then, what is? You're not making sense."

"You're one to talk."

"I always make sense. It's just vikings like you who don't get what I'm trying to do."

Hiccup frowned, feeling anger building in him. "Did it make sense that you were going to keep a mother Whispering Death away from her baby and kill her even when it would've gotten all of us–you included–killed too?"

"Yeah, because it gave me an advantage. It was either get killed by those dragons or give up yours. You're the weird one for preferring death."

The younger viking went up the cell bar. "You're never getting Toothless."

To his surprise, Dagur laughed. "Toothless. Ironic that you'd say that today of all days."

"Why?"

"Never mind. What was the celebration like? I saw the Berkians setting up decorations as Alvin hauled me off like some testy luggage."

"It was nice."

"Liar," Dagur said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm not lying. Everyone had fun."

"But you didn't, huh? You and I both know I shouldn't be here."

"You deserve to be in prison."

"Says you, but either way, I shouldn't be here. I should be on Berk if I have to be a prisoner. You know this is wrong and that's why you couldn't have fun."

"It's not wrong. You're evil. You raged war against us for having dragons."

"You're misremembering."

Hiccup could barely believe his ears. "What in Thor's name are you talking about? You had your Berserkers attack us. Are you just pretending like that didn't happen? I guess I just imagined you abducting my dad."

"No, you didn't imagine it, but I didn't rage war because you had dragons."

"You said you'd attack with your armada if you found out we had dragons."

"Exactly. If I 'found out.' Rumors had been spreading for nearly a year. You could have at least sent us a trader with a scroll from you saying that you had dragons and weren't planning on killing us when we least expected it."

Hiccup got quiet for a moment. "We weren't going to use them to attack you."

"How could I have known that for sure? I wasn't angry with you for having dragons–just for lying. Why'd you keep it a secret?"

"We weren't sure how you'd respond."

"You didn't even know that I was chief, so you can't blame it on not trusting me. You deliberately kept it a secret from my people. You wanted to have a dragon army no one knew about until it was too late."

"That's not what we were doing and it's not a dragon army."

"Okay, well tell me what you'd call a Night Fury, Monstrous Nightmare, Deadly Nadder, Hideous Zippleback, and Gronckle at your command."

Hiccup hesitated. Dagur noticed and scoffed.

"That's what I thought. You know you'd have been just as upset if I'd had one for Berserker Island and acted like I didn't. You'd wonder why I didn't tell you and if I lied about it later, you'd be even more suspicious."

"Of course, but it's because you're you. The world has seen Berserkers with Skrills. They were vicious to those poor dragons."

"I never would've hurt it," he said quietly. "It would've been too precious for that and way too powerful. I didn't even let your smelly, old Berkian hit it with his cane."

"If you didn't hurt it, you would've used it to hurt us. You even tried."

"Because you were my enemy then."

"We didn't have to be enemies."

"What was the alternative, Hiccup?!" Dagur asked, clenching a hand into a fist that began to shake. "Have you actually thought for even one second the situation you put me in? You made me look stupid and blatantly lied to my tribe. I convinced everyone that you were telling the truth because you're you and even saved my life by fighting off that Night Fury. What was I supposed to do when I found out that it was all staged? Just march up to my Berserkers and say: 'It's okay, everyone. Sure, Berk has a dragon army with a Night Fury–the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself–but that's fine. Hiccup said he won't attack. I'm sure he isn't lying like he was when he said he didn't have a dragon army in the first place.' They'd never buy that!"

"It's not about buying it. You're their chief."

"We're vengeful people. Always have been. We don't take well to being tricked."

Hiccup was unmoving and glared at him. "You determine how they are. The other Berkians didn't necessarily want to stop attacking dragons, but my dad got them to change by setting a good example."

The prisoner snarled. "Not everyone has such an easy time as Stoick with getting their vikings to listen to them."

"That doesn't excuse you from attacking and trying to kill us. If you couldn't handle it, maybe you shouldn't have killed your father."

Suddenly, the Berserker turned and glared at Hiccup hatefully. "You don't know what I had to do!"

The Berkian's eyes widened slightly and as they did, Dagur's expression became less angry and more embarrassed. He turned his face away again, but Hiccup just got closer. In addition to the slices over his face, he saw the multitude of cuts over the rest of his body, bruises, and blood.

"How did that happen?"

"Ooh fun, more of you pretending to care about my life," the prisoner said, wanting to sound upset but just being more ashamed of the injuries. "I wanted your help when Alvin first caught me, but you just ignored me like I was nothing."

Hiccup was quiet for a moment. "That's going to leave a bad scar. Did Alvin do it?"

Dagur was going to lash out when he stopped and put a hand to his face. "Is it really that bad? I haven't seen myself yet." Before Hiccup could respond, the Berserker's expression became desperate. "Get me out of here. It's just going to get worse from now on."

"You know I won't do that. You belong in jail."

"Then, move me to Berk. Have me be your prisoner if I have to be someone's. Just don't leave me with Alvin. Please, Brother."

It was that word. It held no positive sentiment for him since it had been first used the same day they became enemies. His conflicted expression became firm and he stepped back from the cell.

"You're just trying to trick me like you did to Alvin. You'll always be untrustworthy. I'm not helping you and I'm not your brother."

Hurt flashed on the prisoner's face before it was replaced with anger. "No, you never were after all. I knew you came here to mock me. I don't need that from you too. Go. Go back to your tribe, family, and freedom." He bared his teeth, practically growling in rage. "Go before I reach through these bars and snap your scrawny neck."

Dagur accented his last sentence by reaching between the bars. Hiccup realized he had been standing too close and was almost grabbed. He quickly began heading towards the exit, only briefly looking at the crazed look on the viking's face. Head throbbing, Hiccup picked up his pace and got on Toothless's back, flying off for Berk. When Dagur no longer heard his footsteps, he leaned against the cell bars.

"Even if I'd killed you, it would've been more merciful than you leaving me here to rot."