Another miserable night. This time, Alvin was more efficient. He had tossed a damp cloth into the cell before going to deal with other matters for the time being. It was near the bars. If Dagur had been naive, he would have assumed this was a mere coincidence, but he had never been known for his naivety. Alvin did that purposefully. It was a way to mess with the prisoner without him or his men even having to be in the cell. Dagur knew what was on the other side of those bars–eyes. He quickly grabbed the item, but he still saw several sets of eyes locked on him. Burning hot, he turned his back so that he did not have to see them. So many enemies. He was surrounded. Everywhere he turned, an enemy was there. The Outcast prisoners had such amused, mocking looks on their faces when the guards left. He knew the other inmates could see and hear everything. The one in particular had his cell so close that it would have been more difficult to not notice. Like then, he was staring at him. Dagur could still feel those eyes.

"You're red," the man said, voice grating on the Berserker's ears.

"That's what happens when you bleed."

"I don't mean from spilled blood."

Dagur tightly gripped the cloth, scowling. "Don't you have someone else to bother? I'm not the only other prisoner here."

"You're the most interesting. The others won't talk to me."

This gave the boy an idea. The next things the other Viking said were completely ignored. It got more challenging as he kept raising his voice and repeating the same questions and comments over and over again. Practice let the other inmates tune him out. Dagur doubted even a lifetime of living there could have helped him, so he diverted his attention to the cloth as he eyed it warily. It smelled strangely. It did last time too, but this was less of a dirty smell and more like one caused by a substance.

"It's mead," he thought aloud.

"Mead?" the annoying prisoner asked, glancing around excitedly. "Where?"

Dagur just frowned at him and started using it to clean the wounds to the best of his ability. It stung, but it was not that bad. Still, what he had said was not quickly forgotten by the inmate.

"Why do you get mead?" he whined.

"Do I look like I'm drinking it?!" the Berserker snapped.

"If you're not, give it to me."

"I don't have it in something you can drink out of. Even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you."

"I deserve a prize. It's not easy to get restful sleep throughout the night when Alvin or his guards are in your cell randomly."

"And how's that my fault? Not like I'm inviting them."

"It's your fault since you won't just be nice." The prisoner gestured to the cells around them. "There are plenty of inmates here, but you don't see them going after us."

"It's your fault, boy," one called. "It was fine here before you came along. Now, none of us can catch some good shut eye."

"Just make Alvin angry enough to kill you so that it'll go back to the way it was," another requested.

Dagur scowled at the men and the agreements he heard. There were a lot of them, but he did not care. He had not planned on making friends there.

"Obviously, Alvin doesn't want me dead. If you're all too stupid to see that, that's your problem."

The irritating Viking spoke again, looking upset. "It's us against them. You could do your part with just accepting things. If you handled your torture with dignity, we'd be able to sleep. How about some solidarity?"

"Solidarity?!" the former chief roared. He started laughing. "Solidarity, nice. Let's try that. In fact, let's try that starting now. How about we all rotate? Instead of me, you get to go to the Southern Markets and have some fun time with the guards and Alvin tonight. Like the sound of that?" No response was heard. "Nothing? Really? You all seemed to have a lot to say a few moments ago. What about that solidarity you've been advocating for, hm? I mean, it's only fair. I've taken my turn, your turn…actually I've taken a turn for everyone here by now." His expression became both inquisitive and unhinged. "When is it my turn to just be fed slop and complain like it's the biggest problem in my life?"

The inmates started becoming quiet. Annoyed but vindicated, the Berserker returned to wiping the blood off his neck.

"That's what I thought," he huffed. "You all have it easy. If you can't sleep for a few hours straight, it's because I can't sleep at all. We're not the same and you know it. So, unless you can back up what you're saying, shut up."

Grumbling, the inmates stopped their remarks and Dagur enjoyed a couple hours of peace and quiet until Alvin came back. He noticed the coldness in the prison when he did and turned to the other prisoners.

"Did I miss something?"

After a moment, the talkative inmate spoke his mind as always. "The Berserker said we shouldn't complain since he gets it worse here."

"Snitch," Dagur snarled.

Alvin glanced between them and lifted an eyebrow curiously. "You two seem to not get along very well."

"He's annoying," the redhead growled.

"He's rude!"

The Outcast chuckled. "Maybe you two should fight to settle this."

At his words, the other Outcast paled. "Fight?"

Dagur's eyes lit up. "Can I actually fight?"

"You can," Alvin assured him.

The boy did not really believe him, but he knew arguing would not have been a productive use of his time either. Despite his own concerns, the other inmate was positively ashen by this point.

"It's okay, Alvin," he said. "I'm not that upset."

Alvin looked at him skeptically. "You don't want to fight him?"

"Not really."

"Why not? He's small and wounded."

"He's not that small compared to me," the other Outcast mentioned. "And wounded dragons are the most dangerous."

"You won't know how you'll do unless you try."

The Outcast still did not look all right with this, but someone else was.

"I'll do it. My grandfather used to tell me horror stories about Berserkers. I've always wanted to fight one."

Satisfied, Alvin went and unlocked the other prisoner's cell. He walked back to the final cell which was unlocked, only getting locked again once the newcomer was inside. Part of the Outcast knew it was not a fair fight. Even after wiping up the blood, the boy was still soaked. He looked bad. He did not necessarily feel bad, though. Dagur had underestimated how much he missed food. That dinner the previous night made him feel strong. When the other inmate approached him, he dodged a swing and punched him in the face.

Stumbling backwards, the Outcast was dazed and got his knees kicked out from under him. Momentarily, Dagur looked at his fist. It had the man's blood on it and gave him a smile. He made someone else bleed. He had missed that. Something awoke in him as he tackled the Viking to the ground. The Outcast cried out as a hand gripped his throat. Before his windpipe could be crushed, a mace hit the would-be killer in the side. The blow knocked Dagur off the other Viking and he painfully clutched at the wound.

Glancing up at Alvin, he said, "Let me guess, you changed your mind."

"Correct. I've decided that it's not fair to leave you with someone to fight. You'd enjoy that. You're dangerous. You just tried to kill a man, Dagur. Why? You didn't really know him. In fact, I think I told you to stand down," Alvin stated, a smirk on his lips.

He yoked up the nearly unconscious prisoner and shoved him towards the redhead. When the smaller Outcast got to his feet, he stumbled backwards, not wanting to be close to the violent attacker. Unsurely, the man looked back at Alvin.

"What do you want me to do?"

The Viking shrugged. "Kick him, punch him, choke him until he's unconscious if you'd like. He won't move. You gave me an idea, so consider it a reward."

The older inmate still was hesitant as he cautiously approached the redhead. Dagur just glared at him, making him turn to Alvin again.

"Are you sure he won't attack?"

"I'm positive."

Feeling a little more confident, the Viking kicked the Berserker in the side. Dagur almost laughed. It hurt so much less than when Alvin did or when the guards did simultaneously. He contained his laughter though and decided to pretend it was worse than it was, grunting in faux pain and hitting the ground. This made the other inmate look pleased, but he just disappointed Alvin who tossed him back into his cell. Once he locked it again, the Outcast leader returned to Dagur, snarling.

"You can't fool me twice. I know you're faking," he said, providing a kick of his own.

That was the type of pain the boy had grown accustomed to during his stay. It was the type that could convince someone a lung was being punctured by a rib. He wheezed as Alvin attached a chain to his neck and pulled him to his feet.

"You should be thanking me," came the taunt. "I could have let that be much worse than it was. If I didn't think the other prisoners were undeserving of feeling superior to someone, I'd have you stay still while being stuck in a cell with all of them. I know for a fact some of them wouldn't mind."

Dagur quietly watched Alvin's expression turn contemplative. When it stopped, his heart stopped too, not knowing what had just been decided. He got yanked up and they left the cell, but they did not enter another. Rather than that, they were going to the ship with several Outcasts. The whole time there, the prisoner wondered what Alvin was thinking and what idea he had gotten. It was not until they reached the Southern Markets that he got his answer.

"My fellow Vikings," Alvin announced, pulling Dagur over by the chain. "How many of us have heard tales about the Berserkers' ferocity in battle from our grandfathers? How many of us have seen it with our own eyes?"

Not liking the sound of this, Dagur saw some anger rising on the expressions of the spectators.

"Here's the opportunity to avenge your fallen warriors. They're so dangerous because they're so plentiful. Alone, they're weak and that's exactly what their chief is. For a fair price, you can attack him. Since it wouldn't be fair to rob anyone else of the chance, don't kill him, but it's only fair that he suffers for what his people have done to yours."

"My Berserkers didn't attack anyone…besides Berk."

"Maybe they haven't in a while, but they used to."

As much as the former chief wanted to argue, he knew he had a point. Oswald had told him of their ancestors. They had not necessarily always had as many Vikings as they did currently. It took conquering some lands and a few raids. Regardless, that did not mean the boy thought it was justice for him to experience their punishment. He had never even been in a raid. Naturally, no one cared about that. Vikings came up to Alvin with coins ready for him. Dagur kept an eye on them to see who had which weapons and how many were approaching. There were a few maces, a few swords, and one ax.

"Could be worse," he thought. "Has been."

As expected, Alvin found a pillar to attach the chain. This was where the prisoner would remain until the people were done venting out their frustrations. His hands were still behind him as well for their safety. As they attacked, Dagur just mentally scoffed at them. This, he could handle just fine. This did cause him to laugh. It was funny. They were so certain that they were causing suffering, but they had no idea what he could endure. While this continued, Hiccup was in the Academy, leading the others through exercises. He noticed that something had been strange that day. The others kept looking at him with weird expressions.

"Were you listening?" he asked, repeating the question to the twins.

"Do we ever?" Tuff countered, shrugging.

Hiccup shook his head and sighed. "The point was to try to get you to consider ways to avoid arrows being shot at you. If someone uses dragon root arrowheads, we'll need to make sure our dragons aren't hit."

"Oh, so…aim for the arrows?" Ruff asked, scratching her head.

"Do you two ever listen?" the heir questioned, frowning.

"It's not our fault! You're the one distracting us with your weird after academy activities," Tuff said defensively.

Hiccup's eyes widened a little and he glanced at Astrid. She crossed her arms in defiance.

"I told them. If I can't get you to see how awful a plan this is by yourself, then I'm just doing what I have to do."

Fishlegs nervously nodded and kept glancing towards the entry of the Academy. "We didn't tell the chief since…he'd probably kill the messenger, but you really should stop, Hiccup. It's not safe to go out there and talk with Dagur."

"Hardly any of what we do is safe," he retorted. "I'm not spending time with him while he has weapons or even really when he isn't behind bars."

"You have to stop doing this at all," Astrid insisted. "He's trying to trick you."

Snotlout nodded. "I get it. I thought he was cool too before the whole war thing, but he's just crazy. You're better off here."

"Or," Tuff offered, "maybe you're starting to enjoy life on the wild side like we do!"

"Finally!" Ruff cheered.

"No, no that's not what I'm doing. I just think it's worth it to talk with him. What's the real harm?"

"What's the real point?" Snotlout asked. "Seems like a waste of time."

"It's not a waste of time to try to see if someone will change for the better."

"But he's not going to," the dark-haired boy stated. "He's called deranged for a reason."

Before Hiccup could comment, Astrid started speaking again. "Think about it, Hiccup. The best case scenario is that your visits work and he doesn't want to be our enemy anymore. Then what? It's not going to do anything to change Berk or Berserker Island. He'll stay in prison forever either way. Nothing you do is going to make a difference."

Hiccup frowned at the floor, deep in thought. Glancing up, he had a determined look in his eyes.

"We don't know that."

He hopped onto Toothless's saddle and flew off. He did not go to Outcast Island, but he headed to a certain home on Berk. As they flew, they saw the trading posts. More merchants were there. Stoick was speaking with them to see what they had to offer and ensure that they had good products. A lot of the other Berkians were over there already, looking excited to have plenty of things to trade for and buy.

"Berk has changed," he said. "Look, Bud. It wasn't like this a couple weeks ago and I don't think any of us are going to argue that we're worse off for having more options now."

The dragon made a low warble and they kept going. Finally, they stopped at Gothi's home. Knocking on the woman's door, he waited a brief pause until she greeted him with her usually skeptical expression.

"Hi, Gothi," he said. "I was wondering if you knew about prisoners of war."

Brushing past him, the healer started writing on the dirt with her staff. She used this method to ask what he wanted to know. Hiccup hesitated, unsure how to word it in a way that would not lead her to being suspicious.

"Is this about the Berserkers?" she wrote.

Hiccup sighed. "I guess there's really no point in keeping it hidden from you. You'd probably just read my mind somehow. I want to know if there's any way Dagur would ever not be Alvin's prisoner. I don't want him to be free necessarily, but I don't want him to be stuck on Outcast Island. Is there a way to get him out?"

Gothi started writing again, causing Hiccup to sigh when she was finished. There was only one way–through the former Berserker chief.

"Oswald's not an option," Hiccup said.

"Then, Dagur's only other option is escaping," she revealed.

"Yeah, I sort of want to avoid that if possible." The healer started going back inside and he stopped her. "There's really nothing else?"

She just shook her head and reentered the home. Hiccup unhappily turned to leave. It was getting late. He did not want to be on Outcast Island during the night, so if he went, he would have to go quickly.

"Let's see if we can go without anyone stopping us, Toothless."

They were about to take to the sky, but something blocked out the sun. It was a shadow in the form of a large Viking.

"Where are you going?" Stoick asked.

"I just figured I'd do a bit of flying around. Maybe explore some."

"Don't lie to me, Son," the chief warned. "I know you've been talking with Dagur."

Hiccup cringed. "How did you find out?"

"That's not important. Why are you going to talk with that lunatic?"

The heir unsurely glanced at his father. "Maybe my thing as chief could be using mercy."

"Vikings like him don't deserve mercy."

"None at all? Dad, you don't know what Alvin's doing. It's not right–not even for an enemy."

"And why exactly isn't it?"

"There are a lot of tortures. A lot. It's not just Alvin either. He's having the other Outcasts attack him too and is threatening the Berserkers. Alvin's said he'll kill them if he fights back."

Stoick's expression did not change. "And who exactly told you this?"

Hiccup hesitated. "Well…"

"Dagur. Am I correct in thinking that?"

"Yeah," the boy sighed.

"Exactly. He's a dangerous Viking. It won't matter if you want to help him. He wants to kill you, Hiccup. That's how this war started. Now, he's preying upon your kindness to gain sympathy."

"How do we know he's lying? I was there. I saw how Alvin was. He even admitted to forcing him to be with someone who rented him for the week."

Stoick crossed his arms. "Even if Alvin isn't the kindest jailer, this doesn't change anything."

"But, Dad–"

"Hiccup, listen to me," the father said, concern in his eyes. "He's dangerous and wanted to torture you. Whatever he's going through now, I assure you he would have done to you if he had won. I'm not saying to attack him, but you're forgetting who he is. This is the same maniac who attacked you with a Skrill. The same one who had Smothering Smokebreaths steal all of our metal to leave our people defenseless. He's the same one who was going to kill both of us and take Toothless for himself if he didn't behead him first."

The younger Berkian could feel his blood boiling as he remembered the events. Stoick saw this and his expression remained hard.

"Don't forget who our enemies are, Hiccup. Alvin's not one of them anymore. I won't say he's a saint, but I will say that Dagur's a devil. The second you let him into your head, you're at risk. I won't let him endanger you or the rest of the island again. He even killed his own father. Oswald was a good man and he killed him to get a position he would have inherited anyway. A Viking who does that can't be trusted to have empathy for anyone else. No matter what you do, you won't get through to him. I need you to understand what I'm saying."

After a moment, the trainer nodded. "I know what you mean." He paused, frowning. "Could I go talk with him one more time tomorrow? I just want to tell him that his plan didn't work."

"You can, but be cautious of him. He's even more unpredictable when he's angry and that won't be news he wants to hear."

"We will be. I promise."

This satisfied the chief who felt comfortable returning to his chiefly duties. While he did, Toothless nuzzled his head against Hiccup's hand. He could feel the anger coming off his friend. It seemed to only get stronger by their contact. Normally, he could calm Hiccup down. Normally, Hiccup did not even need to be calmed down; however, it infuriated him to think of how Dagur had planned on hurting Toothless, his father, and the rest of Berk. He was an enemy and a dangerous one at that. Despite knowing how Dagur manipulated Alvin, the heir was letting himself be duped as well. No matter what Hiccup was starting to think, nothing had changed–nothing about the Berserker anyway. He was a crafty enemy which made him even more problematic.

"Dad's right," Hiccup thought. "He'd torture me just as badly if not worse. He'd torture everyone I care about just to get to me. It doesn't matter if the trader idea is working…or what Alvin's doing. He's always going to have it in for me. The war isn't over for him yet, but I'm not going to let him win."