The Berserker did not sleep that night either. When Alvin got tired, he left; the guards stayed. It was their job after all. They took shifts so that while some were in the cell, the others would be keeping watch of the prisoners. In the morning, the Outcast leader returned, looking refreshed. He began unlocking the cell.

"All right," he said. "Time to say goodbye for now. He's got to find new work."

Begrudgingly, four Outcasts started to exit the cell. As they did, Alvin entered. Dagur's side was bleeding badly from a gash and the man could not tell if he was conscious or not. He was but almost was not. His eyes were barely open and his breaths were shallow since breathing more deeply hurt. Suddenly, the Outcast kicked the prisoner in the stomach. Dagur groaned and curled inwards. As the pain faded, he glanced up cautiously at Alvin.

"Is it over?"

"For now. With you not bringing in any money yet today, we need to change that. So, stand."

Painfully, the viking tried to stand. He felt wobbly and stumbled to his knee.

"Get up," Alvin barked.

He yoked the boy up by his shirt. Staring at him for a moment, he let go and tossed a cloth at him.

"Clean yourself up. If you're soaked in blood, no one will think you're strong enough to do much."

The cloth was just barely damp, but it was all he was being given. Dagur tilted his head at the item, frowning some.

"Do prisoners ever get a chance to really clean up?"

"Oh, so you think you're going to some special hot spring for a day of relaxation?" Alvin questioned, stepping closer.

Dagur stepped back, shaking his head. "No, I just…I'm not used to being this dirty."

He felt even dirtier these last two nights. Desperately, he wanted to wash off the Outcasts. Unable to move in time, the Berserker was slammed into the back wall.

"Do you have a problem with how I run my prison?" Alvin snarled.

As a hand went over his face, Dagur tried to not grimace. "No," he said. "You do a good job."

"There's nothing you'd change?"

Alvin laughed at the conflicted expression on the viking's face. He could tell that he wanted to list off everything he would change, starting with the evenings, but he also was too worried about the backlash for speaking out.

"I wouldn't change anything," he finally answered, hating himself for that.

The Outcast let go and shook his head. "You're weak. I'd never put up with this."

Dagur just frowned at the cloth and began using it to wipe up the blood on his side. There was a lot of it and the small cloth was hardly enough to do the job sufficiently. There were so many other cuts on him that even when the Berserker was done, he was still covered in blood. His clothes had gotten torn more during the night too, but he knew that he would not be given anything new. At that point, he was just glad he still had something to wear. When Alvin was satisfied enough that it looked like the boy was not dying, he put the chain on his neck and restraints on his wrists. They then returned to the Southern Markets with some of the Outcasts.

On the way, the other Outcasts felt bolder. They glanced at Alvin at the helm and went over to the prisoner. They circled him, smiling sinister grins. Dagur felt a pit in his stomach as nerves grabbed him. With the chain attached to the floor, he could not move very far. It clicked against the wooden deck when he tried going beyond where it allowed. He miserably turned to look at what kept him trapped, then back at the guards. They were getting closer and he was becoming more anxious.

"Alvin," Dagur called out, voice as unsteady as it was desperate.

The man glanced over at him and smirked. He knew he was the last person the Berserker wanted to ask for help from, but the prisoner was out of options.

"No blood, men. Just got him cleaned up for the clients."

"Aye, Alvin," one said.

They closed the distance between them and the prisoner. Dagur looked at each of them and tensed when he was put into a choke hold from behind. He struggled against the grip and almost got free.

"No struggling," he was reminded in his ear.

Letting out a growl, the viking stopped. The Outcasts started and Alvin grinned at the sounds. The guards sounded happy and were practically cheering whereas the prisoner was yelling at them and making muffled noises. This was fun for the leader until he heard the sound of slicing and a sharp inhale of breath. He left the helm to go over to the group. Annoyed, he pulled two guards off the Berserker.

"What's wrong?" one asked.

Alvin pointed at Dagur's back which had a long slash that was bleeding profusely. "Blood. I said no blood. You all have no self-restraint. If you want to do this, wait until we leave the markets. I can't have him looking beaten and bloodied if I want vikings to hire him."

"Sorry, Boss."

The Outcast just shook his head and sneered. "Now look at him. You can't break him right before we go to the Southern Markets."

Alvin scowled at the prisoner. He was curled up into a ball as much as it would be allowed with the restraints still attached. Quietly, he was chanting something to himself.

"I am the sea, calm and wide. My sense of peace comes from the inside."

It was something he had read years ago, but he never thought it would be useful. Meditation always seemed boring. He could think of a hundred better things to do, but stuck there with Alvin and his men, that seemed the only way to keep some semblance of sanity. It was not like he had much to start with, so he just kept chanting.

Dagur felt a foot being pressed down on his back and grimaced. He stopped talking when a hand grabbed his shoulder. Alvin lifted him back up so that he could inspect the wound. It was deeper than he thought.

"Did you try to cut through his spine or something?" He frowned and made up his mind. "I'll take care of this when we dock."

He released the viking, letting him fall back to the ground. When Dagur felt the floor again, he went back to his chanting. Finally, they docked, but instead of going to the markets, Alvin dragged him to the side of the island. The Berserker wondered why they were there, but he did not ask anything. The Outcasts were charged with keeping him facing one direction. Dagur did not like his back facing any of them, but he did not fight. Instead, he picked up on the sounds he heard. Alvin was starting a fire. He could not tell how big it was. After a few minutes, he heard footsteps getting closer. The back of his tunic was being lifted, automatically making him uncomfortable. Then, he felt a searing pain as the wound was cauterized. The surprise of it took Dagur's voice and the pain took his breath. All he heard was the sound of sizzling. He began pulling against the others to get away, but they had a strong grip on the chain and some were holding his arms and neck as well. Alvin kept it there for a while before removing the weapon.

"There," he said. "You might have bled out otherwise."

The Outcasts let go of Dagur and he went to his knees, sucking in deep breaths. Sweat beads were on his forehead and he could still feel the pain of the scalding hot sword.

"Enough of that," Alvin said. "We've got work to find."

He took the chain and began walking, yanking Dagur off the ground as he did. The Berserker got to his feet properly and started following after the Outcast. When they got to the market, it did not take long for people to come over since word had spread. He was a good worker. He was worth Alvin's price.

"I've got a chicken issue," someone said.

"Mine's worse. I have wild boars that keep destroying everything. They even tried to eat some of our elderly," someone else stated. "I don't mind paying in gold if it means we'll get rid of the beasts."

Alvin smiled and made the deal with the viking. He handed the chain off to his Outcasts.

"Go with them. I'll send a ship for you to wait here for when it's finished. I've got somewhere to be, so I'll be back on the island tonight." Before he fully let go of the metal, he added, "And be patient. Just wait for when you're back home, got it?"

They nodded and left with the new client. The island they went to was not too far away from the Southern Markets.

"How many boars are there?" Dagur asked the client.

"I'm not sure exactly. There are a lot. I want you to kill them."

Once they docked, they began heading up to the island. Dagur quickly noticed that the client had stopped walking.

"I'll stay here," he said. "You should take off his chain. The boars might step on it or grab it. He needs to keep going up that hill alone."

The Outcasts complied with the suggestion and Dagur continued walking. He did not really know where he was going and could tell that he was not going to receive much information about what he was facing. That said, he did not mind. He had dealt with boars before, so he knew how to deal with them. What he enjoyed most at that moment was being alone. He also enjoyed the idea of being violent. He had a lot of pent up rage that needed to come out of him and since he could not do that with the Outcasts, this was the next best thing.

Dagur walked quietly. He was good at that. The Berserker could be extremely stealthy. He paid attention to where he was stepping, being sure he did not crunch any sticks or twigs. With him hunting boars and not people, he did not have to worry about his footprints being noticed or anyway. If there were that chance, he would have swept them away with a plant. Since his steps were silent, he was able to pick up on other sounds like the grunts of animals. He was getting closer.

Walking faster and following the sound, Dagur found one of the boars. A deranged smile crossed his face and he licked his lips. Before the creature could realize what was happening, he jumped onto its back, grabbing its snout. He wrestled with it on the ground until the wild pig was on its back and having its head pushed further and further to the right. Dagur laughed and kept pushing, hearing a crack as the neck broke.

"Oh, that feels good," he said, tilting his head back and grinning. "It's been too long."

His smile widened when he noticed that his antics had been witnessed. More boars were approaching. They charged at him. He dodged one and ducked when another leapt at him. Another boar came, then another. The client was right. There were a lot. Dagur's smile fell as they surrounded him. He was really beginning to dislike being surrounded. They reminded him of the Outcasts. Momentarily, he froze, but it was only momentarily. This time was different. This time, he could fight back. It sent a rage through him and when another boar ran at him, he kicked it in the stomach. It fell backwards and Dagur grabbed a sharp stone. Using that, he stabbed a boar in the eye and jumped on top of the one on its back, digging the stone into its gut and slicing down to spill out the entrails.

This both angered and scared the other boars, but it did not scare them as much as the look in the viking's eyes which more than outmatched their own wildness. His laugh became more deranged and he stood up, hands covered in the animal's blood. The boars started to back away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, chuckling. "The fun's just begun! Don't leave now!"

With a Berserker battle cry, he charged at the animals and dug into the side of another one with the rock. When it was nearly avenged by a different pig, Dagur maneuvered around it and ripped off its ear with his teeth. The boar squealed in pain and tried to run away only to get gutted like the others. Dagur kept killing the boars, being covered in more and more blood as time went on. His laugh became more unhinged as time passed. Even when he had killed all of them, he just sat on one corpse, tearing out the intestines and cackling maniacally.

"You're dead, Alvin! All of you are!" he exclaimed in delight.

He got off of the boar and rolled to his back, arms outstretched and smiling up at the sky. The excitement and adrenaline were so strong that his back did not even hurt from earlier. His smile did not last long and quickly became sad as did his laughter.

"You'll die," he said to himself. "Die for what you've all been doing to me."

Dagur forced himself to get up and cut off the head of one boar. As he did, he imagined it looked like a certain Outcast. Taking it with him, he returned to where the others were. He dropped the head at the feet of the client who stared at the dead boar with a disturbed frown.

"They're dead," he explained. "I got them all."

Dagur yelped as he was tackled to the ground by the Outcasts. They pinned him there, reattaching the restraints.

"What now?!"

"You cut off its head," one said. "You needed a weapon for that."

"I just used a rock!"

"You're not supposed to."

"How else was I going to kill all of them? There was a herd!"

"Not our problem. Now, we have to tell Alvin, but we'll teach you a lesson for him until he gets back."

"That's not fair!" Dagur protested, thrashing against them. "I did the job! I was supposed to kill them. I didn't even use the rock on anybody."

He was yanked up by the chain on his neck and started getting dragged back to the ship. Before boarding, they stopped by the coast.

"Heard how you wanted a bath," one commented.

They dunked the prisoner into the icy sea. His head was held under the water for some time, then they brought him back up, cold and drenched.

"This way," a viking explained, "we'll know that the blood is yours and not from a pig."

The group boarded the ship and the client dropped them back off at the Southern Markets. An Outcast ship was waiting for them when they got there. As they headed back to the island, Hiccup was heading to an island as well. So much of what he had heard the last day troubled him deeply. Some of it he needed to check.

"Would Alvin actually threaten the Berserkers and mean it?" he wondered. "What am I talking about? I thought he was a murderous barbarian until a few months ago. I don't know how much he's changed."

Flying with Toothless, Hiccup began heading for Berserker Island. He had actually never gone there before and was curious what it even looked like. As the island came into view, the Night Fury stopped as though an invisible force was pushing him backwards.

"What's wrong, Bud?" Hiccup asked, worried.

He had never seen him like that. It was so strange. Toothless started flying back, moving away from the island. When he did, he was able to fly straight again.

"How about we stay back here then," the Berkian suggested, still not sure what was going on.

The boy looked around and frowned at what he saw. There was an Outcast ship.

"Let's land there, Toothless."

They swooped down until landing on the deck. This scared the Outcasts who seemed to think it was an attack before remembering that they were no longer enemies of Berk.

"What are you guys doing?" Hiccup asked.

"We're just keeping an eye on things."

"Why?"

"We have their chief. If they're plotting an attack, we need to send word back to Alvin."

Hiccup got quiet and flew off. He knew if he asked if they were planning on attacking, he would never be told that they were even if it was the truth.

"Let's go home first, then out to Outcast Island."

He collected a few things, avoiding the other riders, his father, and Gobber while he was at it since he also knew they would ask a lot of questions he did not want to answer. Astrid had been quieter that day in training than usual and he was aware of the fact that he was the reason. He had to channel Toothless's stealth, but he managed to do this and was soon back on the dragon's saddle, heading to the prison.

Hiccup got there and could not stop the scowl on his face as he saw the guards. They looked offended by his expression but did not say anything to him. The boy and dragon entered the prison and noticed that it was quiet this time. Two guards were watching him and he noticed they were cleaning blood off their weapons. Hiccup got to the last cell and saw the prisoner. Dagur was in the middle of doing some pull ups on a high part of the wall that jutted out. At first, he did not hear the visitor due to the ringing in his ears. His head felt like it was still being clubbed. Hiccup gasped at all the blood he saw. His presence was quickly noticed and Dagur sighed, then smirked.

"I got to hurt things today too," he said. "I killed boars." He got down from the wall, grinning. "Hey, T," he added, waving to the dragon.

Toothless just looked at him, not sure if he felt like being friendly or not. Hiccup had a worried look on his face, but he got closer to the bars. This caused Dagur to look surprised.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I brought you something," Hiccup explained.

Reaching through the bars a little, he set two items on the floor. The redhead stared at them in confusion.

"This flask has fresh water and there's some yak and cabbage in the satchel."

Dagur's eyes got wide. "Y-you brought me food?"

"Yeah, you said Alvin hasn't given you any and I figured that if you're going to be working a lot, it could help. Snotlout doesn't work that much during the day and I know how much he nearly passes out when he hasn't eaten. Fishlegs won't even normally skip third breakfast unless he's really excited about something."

The Berserker felt his throat becoming sore and swallowed hard. "You didn't have to…no one else I know would have."

"Well, I've never been like most vikings," Hiccup said with a warm smile.

Dagur chuckled and started enjoying the food. "Being like everyone else is overrated. Thanks."

"No problem." Hiccup's smile faded. "I went by Berserker Island and saw the Outcasts. They're keeping a ship nearby."

The prisoner sighed. "I'm not surprised. It's all the more reason why I can't do anything." Dagur looked at the food, then Hiccup and Toothless. "You really weren't going to attack us with those dragons, were you?"

"No, we weren't. I didn't want to train dragons to help in war. I just didn't want to kill Toothless, we bonded, and then it just continued from there."

Dagur sat back on his hands, enjoying the yak. "I know it doesn't change anything," he said, "but I wouldn't have started the war if I could go back. Not just because I don't want to be here."

"Do you mean that?" Hiccup asked.

"Yeah," the boy scratched his head, frowning as he felt more blood on his hand. That was fresh since he had gotten back to the prison. He wiped it on his pants and kept talking. "I'm not used to feeling…guilt I think it is…but I do kinda regret how I handled things. It would've been cool to be allies with you."

Hiccup smiled. "Well, this unofficial alliance with you telling me about what you've studied is also pretty cool."

Dagur smiled happily. "Yeah! Let's get to that. What do you want to hear about?"

"You knew about dragon root. Do you know anything else about it?"

"I've never seen it done before, but I've read that there's a tribe of vikings who used to make arrowheads out of dragon root."

Hiccup's eyes widened. "I hope they don't use them anymore."

"That part, I'm not sure about."

"As badly as they responded to the root just being around them, I couldn't imagine them having that in their blood."

"It said that it wasn't a pretty sight." Dagur brightened a bit. "But I found out there's a cure for it so that the dragons don't have to wait for it to wear off."

"What's the cure?"

"You need fresh water, fire fern, purple oleander–"

"Wait, you can't use purple oleander. That's deadly to dragons."

"Not purple. You're thinking of blue."

"Wouldn't they all be poisonous?"

Dagur shrugged. "I guess not. Maybe it's the combination that helps, so it might be better to not feed them plain purple oleander."

"Did you ever plan on using those arrows?"

"No, that takes the fun out of it if I'm just waiting on the dragons to pass out. I like my kills when I can watch the life fade out of their eyes." He stopped, glancing at Toothless. "No offense, Mr. Night Fury."

"So, why did you have that recipe memorized?"

"I thought it might be useful one day. Plus, if anyone ever used an arrow on my Skrill, I wanted to know how to heal him."

Hiccup looked shocked. "You cared more about the Skrill than I thought you did."

"I still care about him. He's the dragon of my people. We're one of the only tribes like that." Dagur slid the satchel and flask back through the bars. "If Alvin asks, I didn't eat that." Before Hiccup could say anything, he continued. "The only other island I've studied which has a national dragon is Defenders of the Wing Island. They have an Eruptodon. Isn't that neat?"

"I've never seen an Eruptodon. They aren't in the Book of Dragons."

"Probably not. That island is really secretive."

Dagur ducked low, acting like he was hiding. Hiccup found himself almost laughing a little.

"Do you know what it does?"

"It eats lava. Some stomach on that thing. Apparently, the whole island depends on it since it has this active volcano. I couldn't imagine living somewhere like that where I had to have a dragon."

The visitor nodded. "The active volcano part does sound like a pretty stressful way to go about the day, but I can't say I don't understand the idea of relying on dragons or seeing them all the time at least. Even before bonding with Toothless, dragons were everywhere. It was just a way of life. It's weird thinking that Berserker Island doesn't have any."

"I sort of wonder how that happened. There has to be somewhere the Skills were kept, but I couldn't find any texts on that."

Hiccup paused, considering something. "Why did your father always come to Berk?"

"For the treaty signing," the redhead answered, confused.

"No, I know, but I'm surprised that we never went to you. Besides Skrills, I honestly know nothing about Berserker Island. Could you tell me about it? I think Dad would notice if I stayed out there for long."

"What do you want to know?"

"What was it like growing up there? I used to imagine it a lot after you'd leave."

"Really?" Dagur's expression turned curious and he scooted towards the bars. "What did you think of? I'll let you know if you were right or not."

"Okay, I'm up for that," the Berkian said, feeling a bit amused even though he was not sure why. "I always figured that you were probably the exact opposite of me back then with a bunch of friends or being really popular at least. I imagined you getting anything you ever asked for and being treated like you were one of the most important vikings on the whole island because you were in line to become chief. Since you'd always do knife tricks, I guessed that you'd have hoards of adoring fans too."

The whole time Hiccup spoke, Dagur was just quietly watching him. His eyes were filled with amusement, but the younger viking could not tell what he was thinking. Actually, Hiccup could never tell what he was thinking.

"How'd I do?"

"Horribly."

"What? How? Which part was wrong?"

Dagur laughed. "Start with 'bunch of friends' and go to 'adoring fans.'"

Hiccup's eyes widened. "I don't get it. You're like if someone combined Snotlout's athleticism with the twins' love for danger. How weren't you popular?"

The boy just shrugged. "That type of stuff doesn't matter where I'm from. It was lonely most of the time. No one wanted to be around me."

"But your dad was the chief."

"So is yours. You know that doesn't mean anything sometimes."

"Sure for me, but we're very different vikings."

Dagur shook his head. "It's like I said before, we're a lot alike. We were both outcasts for a while. Then, you became a hero and I became a chief."

Hiccup frowned slightly in confusion. "I just don't get it. I mean, I was clumsy and skinny in a tribe filled with warriors. You're–"

"Crazy in a tribe filled with calm vikings," Dagur finished.

"You're Berserkers. Don't you all…go berserk?" Hiccup asked, not sure how to say it gently.

The look in Dagur's eyes changed. "Not really. I mean, we all have bad tempers. We consider it a Berserker rage. If you provoke us, that's it. We're enraged and ready to fight, but it has to be after something happens. For me…I'm a bad example of what Berserkers are. You knew my dad. Think of him. They're like that."

"Is it just that you get angry more often?"

"That and I think differently than they do." Dagur frowned and leaned his head against the bars. "I don't even know what I'm thinking is wrong until I see someone else's reaction. Then, I just get confused about why they're acting so freaked out."

"So, they'd just ignore you?"

"And avoid most of the time."

"At least if they were wary, you didn't have to worry about bullying." Hiccup stopped, seeing the prisoner look away. "Wait…really?"

"You don't have to make it seem even more pathetic than it was," Dagur said, not quite snapping but not sounding calm either.

"I don't think it's pathetic. I was bullied too. I just can't imagine you, of all vikings, being bullied. Fishlegs and I have always been the ones to deal with that. We were 'too scared all the time' or 'barely big enough to be dragon toothpicks.'"

"We should have swapped places. Fishy geeking out about knowledge and you not being athletic wouldn't have mattered. Berkians are more rambunctious than Berserkers. My people just want to enjoy their lives and kill whoever messes with that. So, when I went against that and started acting weird, it put a target on my back. I would've given anything to just be nerdy or unathletic."

"But you call yourself 'Deranged.' Isn't it a badge of honor or something?"

Dagur let out a somewhat amused scoff. "Contrary to popular belief, I didn't always like being considered that. 'Deranged' isn't the word they'd use, though. They'd just call me crazy. I didn't like it. I didn't want to be crazy. I just was. There was one guy who didn't call me that. He started calling me 'Dainty' and even got the others to join in. That's the bully. He was older, bigger, hated my guts, and was determined to make everyone else hate me too."

"Do you know why he hated you so much? I figured out that Snotlout didn't actually hate me. He just let his dad get in his head and make him act like a jerk a lot of the time."

"Dads are a pain. Ansson hated me because he knew I wasn't your standard Berserker."

Hiccup sighed. "What's with vikings? Just because someone isn't like everyone else doesn't mean that they deserve to be mistreated. You don't seem dainty to me."

"Well, that's good. I definitely tried to seem as tough as I could when I'd visit."

"That's such an odd way to bully you. Why'd he call you that?"

"Because you can be a reckless chief or a foolish one. You can even be a deranged one, but you can't be a dainty chief. He said that I was too emotional. Real Berserkers knew how to keep their emotions at bay. They'd never laugh like I did or get as excited as I would. They'd never have fun with things like fruit baths and they'd never be as disturbed as I am. So, he'd point out everything he saw that he knew would make the others think less of me. Anytime I didn't do something he could use, he'd instigate by stealing things from me. He wouldn't even want them! My dad gave me a lens. It was one of the only things he's given me and the jerk stole it. He'd take anything I had and would beat the yak dung out of me when I'd try to take it back. Sometimes, there would just be a fight. I'd never win against him."

"I'm surprised Oswald let the fights happen. Did he know?"

Dagur laughed scornfully. "He knew. I only came home with black eyes and knocked out baby teeth every other day. Once, Ansson–that's who it was–broke my arm. That's why I started using that green binding on my left arm. I needed it to help the bones mend, then just kept it there out of habit. As much as I loved fighting, I hated fighting him. He'd been in warrior's training since I could talk."

Hiccup's eyes widened. "Why didn't Oswald do anything?"

"Why would he? Did Stoick ever tell Snothat to stop talking badly about you?"

"No, but he never broke my arm or anything," the Berkian pointed out. "He's not way older either."

Dagur shrugged and started punching the air. "Maybe it's because your dad is Stoick the Vast. Someone who goes by Agreeable isn't exactly intimidating to most vikings. Ansson didn't make it a secret. Even tattooed me to his arm."

Hiccup paused, raising an eyebrow. "That's…disturbing."

"I thought so too, but Dad said I was overreacting–that I should consider it a 'compliment,'" he scoffed. "Like I said, dads are a pain."

Hiccup hesitated as he recalled something. "On Dragon Island, you said you had a sister."

The Berserker stopped his pretend fight. "Yeah…what about her?"

"Who is she? I've never met her."

"Her name's Heather."

"Hm, that's interesting."

"Why?"

"I met someone with that name a little while ago. Is she going to become the chieftess since you're here?"

"No," Dagur said, frowning at the ground.

"Why isn't she?"

"Because she isn't," the prisoner said, curt. Sighing, his clenched fists relaxed. "She's not on Berserker Island anymore. She's not there because of me."

"Did you kill her?"

Dagur looked horrified. "No! I'd never do that. I just…lost her. I sent her adrift."

"How did that end up happening?"

The prisoner looked sheepish. "I thought it would be fun if she started learning how to navigate on the water. She's just a year younger than I am, so I figured it was time to teach her." Pausing, his expression became sadder. "I brought this horn she had with us since she couldn't stand to be away from it. The current was really strong and the waves were getting high. I managed to secure her to the boat using some of my knives and her clothes, but I got knocked off and wasn't able to get to her." He let out a pitiful laugh. "You can imagine how nice the 'Hey, Dad, I lost your daughter,' talk went."

Hiccup cringed at the thought. "Did he go looking for her?"

"Almost every day for a few years until he gave up hope," Dagur said, sitting down. "I tried to go with him, but he wouldn't let me. That was the last straw with him. He wasn't sure about me at first, but after that, it was over."

"He probably was just upset."

"Upset doesn't begin to describe it. That's when his Berserker rage came out more."

"Oswald the Agreeable really had a Berserker rage?'

"Oh, yeah. I saw it a lot during those first few years, then he just became more passive aggressive instead." Dagur stopped, looking at the Berkian with an intense look. "I used to like thinking about our similarities because I didn't like thinking about how we were different."

"What do you mean?"

"We both just had dads, but yours actually wanted to understand you. You even had an honorary uncle. It would be annoying when we'd come to visit. It wasn't hard to see how much they cared about you."

The smaller boy leaned against the bars of an empty cell. "It wasn't as easy for me to see that with my dad, but Gobber did always make it clear that he wanted me to be all right. Do you have any other relatives?"

"Not anymore. I used to have a great uncle named Haggard, but he died when I was little. He was fun. He'd tell stories about his time in battles." He paused. "I think I might be like him."

"He was…he thought differently too?" the Berkian asked, hoping the question was phrased nicely enough.

"If I remember correctly, nobody got his jokes and they always gave him strange looks. That's probably why we got along so well. I was the only one to laugh with him. He never got made fun of, though. They were probably too scared."

Hiccup's brows furrowed. "So, do the Berserkers like you more now?"

"Doubt it."

"Then, that's where I'm getting confused. You're still going through all this for them?"

The other boy nodded. "They're still family. They don't have to love or even like me back for me to protect them."

Before the Berkian could say anything, the prisoner looked at Toothless. The whole time they had been talking, the dragon was getting closer to the bars. Dagur was too tired to move but regarded the reptile warily.

"He's not going to maul me, is he?"

"No, he's not," the Berkian assured him.

He was surprised by his friend's reaction. Toothless approached the Berserker curiously, like he was trying to decide something. Suddenly, Dagur tensed as he felt a cold snout poke his back. Noticing that he had not been ripped to shreds, he relaxed and looked into the animal's curious eyes.

"C-could I pet him?" he asked, almost surprising himself.

This was the same dragon whose skull Dagur had wanted for a hat. The same one that represented the end of his friendship with Hiccup and the start of their war. Yet, he was the same one who looked so cute and approachable at that moment, nearly like he was trying to offer some comfort. The question also surprised Hiccup. He had doubted he would ever give any Berserker the permission to do that. What if it was misinterpreted as allowing him to take Toothless or some other bizarre case of misunderstanding. Still, he supposed that Toothless had practically already decided for himself.

"You can," he said, still feeling shocked by saying this.

Dagur's face lit up with a goofy smile and he laughed while carefully reaching through the bars. Before he could touch the Night Fury, there came a loud clash of metal on some bars at the front of the prison.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Alvin bellowed.

The Berserker drew his hand back and hurried to the back of the cell. "I didn't hurt them!"

Alvin did not listen and stormed over to the cell, entering and grabbing the prisoner by his neck. Toothless snarled and Hiccup felt his breaths becoming faster.

"He's telling the truth. I said he could pet Toothless."

"That doesn't matter. He knows he's not allowed to reach a hand past these bars."

"You never said that," Dagur argued, straining to breathe.

He was met with a fist being brought down on his head, dazing him.

"Hey!" Hiccup called, both feeling upset and anxious. "I know now. I won't say it's okay the next time. So, you can stop."

"This isn't your fault, Hiccup. It's Dagur's. He just has to accept his punishment."

The Berkian saw the other boy's face turn ashen. Alvin's hand rested on his sword's hilt, just itching to use the weapon. There was a smile on his face that the prisoner was starting to know too well.

"I think it's time you went home, Hiccup."

"You said that the prisoners were attacking Dagur."

"I did, but it's also my right as his jailer to do as I see fit."

"You don't have the right to do that," he retorted.

"If you've got an issue with your father's sentence, maybe you should talk with him," the man countered.

Hiccup got quiet. He did not want to talk with Stoick about this. He doubted it would get them anywhere. The rider also did not want to leave the two alone. Hiccup quickly realized it would not even be the two. The guards had heard their leader and got the cue.

"It's okay, Hiccup," Dagur said, eyes not leaving Alvin's. "I told you everything I could think of for today. I'll have more next time."

"I'm not leaving yet."

The prisoner let out a weak laugh. "I love attention, but I've got a big enough audience. I'd prefer it if you left." He paused. "Please."

He shifted his gaze to Hiccup. It was such a sad look. One also mixed with fear and embarrassment. He knew what was coming. It would be easier if only the Outcasts saw. The boy doubted he would be able to stand it if Hiccup was standing just outside the bars. Understanding this, the Berkian turned to the snarling Night Fury, getting him to stop.

"I'll go," he conceded, "but I will be back.

The boy and dragon started leaving the prison. Hiccup balled a hand into a fist as he heard guards laughing and the sounds of hits. Not knowing what else to do, he and Toothless flew back to Berk. They went home, neither having a good enough appetite for dinner. Once there, they noticed a look on Stoick's face. He appeared angry, but it was a layered look. That was because of why Alvin had not been at the prison earlier. He had been to Berk. When he arrived, he went to find Stoick. The chief was surprised to see him and had a matching expression.

"Alvin? What are you doing here?"

"Can't I visit my old friend?"

"Yes, but I wasn't expecting you."

The Outcast started to frown. "You're right to think that this isn't why I came here. It's about your boy."

This caused Stoick to look worried. "Is Hiccup all right?"

"He's fine, but he keeps visiting Dagur. That lunatic is dangerous. I'm worried he'll get hurt. Sometimes, he goes there when I'm not present, so I can't be sure he's safe."

The chief's eyes widened. "I don't know why he would be speaking with Dagur."

"He's a good-hearted boy, but he's too trusting. If something happened…"

Stoick needed to hear nothing more. "I'll talk to him. Thanks for telling me."

"Of course. We're friends again, Stoick. I want what's best for both of our islands."

With that, the Outcast turned to return home. A troubled look was on Stoick's face, contrasting with the smug smile on Alvin's. He was proud of himself. All he would have to do now was wait.