The next day, Dagur observed as Oswald and Heather went back out to do some chiefing. They had hardly answered the questions that the Berserkers had for them the prior afternoon, so they spent the majority of the day just doing that. Heather felt bombarded by all of the requests that their people had. The two spent hours listening to the curious thoughts of the Vikings, with some being more nonsensical than others and some involving much sense.
"Are you keeping the same treaty that Dagur proposed to the Berkians?" a Berserker inquired.
Oswald tapped his chin. "I've not yet decided," he admitted. "The way things were before allowed for certain peace, but these dragons are unexpected factors. If we grow closer to the Berkians, they can teach us how to train dragons as well. We might even be reunited with the Skrill."
This satisfied the inquisitive Viking and another took his place. As the hours rolled into each other, so did the questions. Soon, Heather could hardly tell when one Berserker began and the next ended.
Finally, she whispered to her father, "I'm going to go get some fresh air. I'll be back in a little bit."
Oswald gave a slight nod of his head as she exited the building. Once outside, the young Viking leaned against the door. A sight caught her attention and Heather went over to the armory. Dagur was about to enter the armory with a wheelbarrow filled with weapons.
"From chief to transporter," he grumbled to his older self.
FD saw Heather approaching and gestured with his head. "We've got company."
PD stopped and gave a grin. "Hey, Heather."
She smiled back. "Hey. I guess a new shipload of weapons came in?"
The older Berserker nodded. "Yep. Figured that I'd restock today." In his mind he added, "Since I don't have anything else to do."
"Mind if I join you?" Heather asked. "I've been shown how to answer questions all day and I feel like my head's going to explode."
Keeping all traces of bitterness from his voice, Dagur asked, "Besides that, what are you thinking about the idea of being chief?"
He and Heather went inside of the armory and he began to sort the items.
"I don't know," his sister divulged. "I never expected this to even be a possibility in my life. To be honest, it's all a bit much. I mean, I don't even really know if I should call him 'Dad' yet and he's already made me his heir." Heather stopped herself, thinking over what she had stated. "I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted was to come back and cause tension between the two of you."
Dagur laughed his trademark laugh, invoking an uncomfortable expression from Heather. "Believe me, your arrival didn't make us not get along."
He wanted to assure her that all was well in regards to her being the new heir too, but he could not without blatantly lying. Instead, he continued to separate items and categorize them by levels of lethalness. The brother worked quickly, though barely looked at the weapons. Each time Dagur stared too hard at a blade, he imagined using it to kill Alvin. After the Berserker was done, Heather had to ask a question which had been tugging at her mind.
"I'm sorry, but do you have any advice for me with trying to lead? I just don't want to let everybody down."
As upset as her brother was, a part of him just could not let Heather feel like she was a disappointment. "You can't only answer questions on your throne," Dagur told her. "You have to go into the village and get to know everyone too. That way, you know how to help our Vikings in different situations." He noticed that Heather was not comprehending his point and gave an example. "Like this, I know that the captain of our navy, Captain Vorg, is a great swimmer. I know that by keeping an eye on everyone and having seen what skills the soldiers have. Since I do, if we were in a ship and it toppled over, I could focus on getting some onto driftwood or something like that while he helps others. Also, it's probably good for them to realize that you're willing to get your hands dirty and help out around the island."
Heather's eyes lit up with an idea. "When I go back to hear more questions, would you go with me? I was thinking that if you tell me a little about the Berserker who's needing help, I might be able to figure out what to say."
Dagur thought about it. "I still have a few things that I wanted to do in the village, but I have been spending all day running around and fixing up stuff. Maybe a break won't hurt too much."
Heather beamed and the duo returned to the building. Oswald's smile at seeing his daughter immediately fell when he saw her company. He did not allow for that to distract him too severely as he resumed answering problems. One shepherd was complaining about his flock not having enough water. Dagur leaned over to Heather to whisper.
"He loves his flocks like they're his kids and barely goes anywhere without them. And as a tip, there are areas on the east side of the island that have water after you dig."
Heather spoke up. "You could bring them with you while you dig for some water on the east side."
The shepherd thanked her and left. For a split second, Oswald looked proud, then he saw a similar expression on Dagur's face. This continued for three more Berserkers, however, Oswald stopped the fourth and went over to the siblings.
"Dagur, what are you doing here?" he questioned. "You know that requesting Berserkers stand on that side and chiefs are here."
Dagur glared at Oswald and Heather replied for him. "He's helping me learn about the people."
Her father was silent for a moment. "I think we have this taken care of," the chief stated. "What have you been doing all day?"
The boy knew where this was going as he reluctantly answered, "Helping out around the village."
Oswald smiled. "Wonderful. In that case, there are some boars that might be going feral. How about you go and make sure they're still domesticated pigs?"
Dagur knew full well that there were no wild boars on the island and that this was just a wild dragon chase; however, he also knew that Oswald would just think of a real and quite irritating issue for him to fix if he protested, so he left with relative silence. After the door closed behind him, Oswald turned to Heather.
"I understand that your natural inclination is to go to Dagur because he was chief before you, but remember that he had that revoked. His advice is not what you need to fill your head with, Heather. If you have a question, I'd be more than happy to resolve it for you."
Slightly frowning, Heather nodded her head. When the next day came, she did the exact opposite of what her father had asked of her. She hid outside of her brother's and father's hut and waited for Oswald to leave. The chief strolled out of his room and went to the main area, a statement pre-planned to say. These plans were dashed when he saw that Dagur was not even present. Huffing, he left the hut. Once the man was out of sight, Heather knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, she decided that her brother was gone.
"This makes it a bit harder," she thought.
Quickly, Heather went around to look for the Berserker. She eventually found him helping an older Berserker whose livestock had gotten loose from her fence. Several yaks had broken the pillars with their horns and were running gaily. The boy took great joy in wrangling the mammals as it allowed for some pent up anger to be released. Having put all of the yaks back into the fence, with some repairs to the aforementioned constraints being made, Dagur was thanked and saw that he had an audience. With a small smile, he went over to Heather.
"No early morning chiefing today?" he asked.
She had a mischievous smirk. "Technically, there would have been, but I wanted to come here instead. No matter what was said, the advice you gave me really helped. For the rest of the night, I felt like I actually knew the Berserkers."
It genuinely made Dagur happy to hear that and an idea popped into his head. "I noticed you're not half bad with an ax, but have you had combat training?" Heather shook his head, resulting in a grin from her brother. "Great, then that can be your training. Come along, pupil," he stated, theatrically gesturing for the forest. "Dad can't complain if he doesn't know what to complain about."
The siblings walked until they found a nice place hidden by the brush. Once there, Dagur gestured to Heather.
"Okay, show me your fighting stance. Have one?"
"I've seen Vikings do this from time to time," she said, lowering into a stance with her fists up.
"Pretty good! Just needs a bit of tweaking."
Taking her wrists, he moved them a little below her chin and further from her. He stepped back and closed one eye to see if that was what he wanted her to do. Then, he gave her a grin.
"Much better! That way, you won't accidentally hit yourself in the face when you block and your enemy's force pushes you."
"Good idea. Thanks!"
"No problem. Now, have you done any punching or kicking?"
Heather shook her head. "Not really. I was taught how to hold my fists, but I haven't needed to use them before."
Dagur pointed at a tree. "Let's practice on this. I like jump kicks a lot."
He demonstrated, kicking a dent into the thick trunk. With a proud grin, he motioned for her to do the same. The girl mimicked what he had done and he clapped when she deepened the dent.
"You're a natural! We have to see how good you are at punching now."
Heather started to punch the tree, but Dagur lifted a hand to stop her.
"Don't do this?"
"You could and I admittedly have, but it won't help as much as a real target. I want to see if you can knock somebody out."
"How would we find out?"
Dagur smiled and pointed at himself. Heather's eyes widened and she shook her head.
"I'm not punching you. You're my brother."
"I know that, but I'm trying to see if you can defend yourself. I'm sturdy. If you knock me out, just shake him and I should wake back up."
Heather still looked doubtful. "I'm still not sure."
The Berserker dramatically put a hand to his forehead. "You really want to stress out your poor, chief status-deprived brother? That's cold, Heather. I expected better."
The girl laughed at him. "You've got to be the only Viking who'd actually convince someone to punch him."
"I'm the only Viking who does a lot of things. Why break that trend? Now, come on and slug me."
Letting out a sigh, Heather brought back her fist and punched. Dagur moved back, holding his jaw with a painful grin.
"Nice! Yeah, I'd say you could probably knock somebody out with that soon. Let's keep practicing."
"I should probably head back now, though," the brunette said, sounding extremely disappointed. "He'll get suspicious if I don't."
Dagur was disappointed to end the training as well, but he understood that she was right. They said their goodbyes and the younger Berserker went down to the village. As Heather reentered, she heard a stern voice.
"And where were you all day?" Oswald interrogated.
"Just going around the island," she said innocently.
Her father's eyes narrowed, though he dropped the subject. "All that matters is that you're here now. You'll need to learn how to deal with agricultural issues on the island."
They went to the farms, with Heather trailing behind. After what seemed like an eternity looking at sheep and seeds, Oswald told her that they would go answer more questions.
"How could they have more questions? Haven't we answered everything we possibly could?" she asked, exasperated.
Oswald looked appalled. "A chief's work is never done and it isn't always glamorous."
Heather looked at the ground. "I don't know if I want this to be my future. Having an entire village rely on you is a lot. Maybe Dagur-"
"Can stay out of your head!" Oswald bellowed. He took a breath after seeing Heather's eyes widen and the chief spoke again in a calmer voice, "I can see that you two are getting close, but please be careful."
The girl raised a brow. "Why?"
"Because he's not well...mentally speaking. I just don't want him to hurt you–or anyone for that matter."
A mild frown formed on Heather's face. "I don't think that he would."
This concluded with a sigh from Oswald. "Well, though I hope that it would be accidental, he's just too unstable. I didn't really want you to find out this way, but that's why I always knew that he couldn't be a leader."
A certain word caught her attention. "'Always?' Did you try to give the position to me before?"
Oswald began to speak, however was interrupted by Vorg who had come over to tell him of a collapsing pillar in the Hall.
"A fight broke out and the two quarrelers slammed it so hard that it just broke," the Captain informed the chief.
Speedily, the three went to stop the trouble, but when they arrived, they saw that the matter was already being handled. It made Dagur's day to see his father's annoyed face at his presence while he helped steady the support beam. FD chuckled as he noticed the same thing.
"And we won't be the only ones," he said. "Soon, the other Berserkers will realize who should be in charge too."
When the area was once again safe, Dagur strode out of the hall like the chief he used to be, smiling at his family on the way out. Oswald fought against a growl that was growing in his throat and stayed long enough to let the Berserkers be aware that he had gone to check on them. That evening when Heather went to her house, she went over to Mia and Axel.
"What's wrong?" her father asked her.
"It's all these chiefly duties," she replied. "Dagur's the one who should really be chief after...Oswald, but every time I mention it to the chief, he gets mad. It feels like the only reason I'm in line instead is because they don't get along."
In all honesty, neither Axel nor Mia were familiar with these types of circumstances to offer the most helpful advice, though they did their best.
"Even if you do end up the new chief, we know that you'll be the best you can and that might be just what the Berserkers need," Mia stated hopefully.
Heather was less optimistic, but appreciated the confidence that they had in her. By morning, Oswald managed to wake up before Dagur. In actuality, he had never gone to sleep. When he saw the young Viking almost leave, he stopped him at the door.
"I have something that I want you to help me with." He grinned. "And you can even spend time with Heather while doing it."
Both Dagurs were suspicious of this impending request, but knew they would have to comply.
"What do you want me to do?"
Oswald opened the door. "Just go down to the docks and get this item." He held up a drawing of a silver fishing hook with bronze at its base. "Here, I wouldn't want you to forget what it looks like."
He handed it to Dagur, who accepted and then went to Heather's home.
"This is a trap if I've ever seen one," he said under his breath.
"Agreed, but we just don't know to what extent," FD said. "Stay alert and be prepared for anything, especially since Heather will be part of it too now."
His sister was more than happy to accompany him on the trip and they went down to the docks. Since there were no loose hooks simply laying about, the two asked around if anyone had seen the sought after item. FD went over to his past self and pointed behind him.
"Looks like the trap is a pretty bad one."
"Aye," a gruff voice called out. "I got your silver hook."
Dagur groaned as he turned to see Ansson. The two glared at each other for a moment before Ansson laughed.
"What? Ya don't want your trinket now, Dainty? Ya can have it if ya'd like. All ya gotta do is beat me for it. After all, that's always been how we've shared possessions."
Dagur stood his ground. "We can resolve this in another way. Besides, your chief wants it. Probably would be considered treason or whatever for you to refuse to give up an object like that."
The man shrugged. "I'm willin' to risk it. Look, Dainty, I'm in the mood to fight, so it'll either be against ya or your sister there."
Hot rage rushed through the young Berserker. "Leave her out of this."
"Ooh yeah, 'cause I'm so scared of what'll happen if I don't. Face it, Dainty, ya couldn't beat me if your life depended on it. Or hers, for that matter."
Like a Monstrous Nightmare, Ansson lunged at Heather, but was intercepted with a tackle. Dagur got back up and went to draw several blades, but stopped. Ansson smirked and held up the knives that used to be on him.
"Fast hands, remember? Thanks for the ammo, Dainty."
He threw them at the Viking, but fortunately his aim was not as good as his strength. The older Berserker tried a tackle himself, but was dodged. Dagur sent a fast punch into Ansson's face, making the man see stars.
"Whoo. Coulda confused that for a punch made by an actual Berserker," he taunted, kicking his opponent in the side.
His eyes shifted to Heather and he drew a club. Ansson was disarmed before it even registered to him what happened. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, Ansson whistled and a group of equally large Berserkers emerged. Dagur had nearly forgotten about them–Ansson's occasional flunkies. On the off chance that Dagur was doing well in a fight against Ansson, the man would always summon his minions to come to his aid. Dagur was completely surrounded by the Vikings. Three on every side of him crept closer and closer. And on the outside of them, stood Ansson with a killer's twinkle in his eyes, focusing entirely on Heather.