Laughing. Who was Dagur to complain about anyone taking part in such an action when he did it so much himself? Yet, when it would be directed at him, it only filled the boy with anger. He had turned eleven that year, so it was time to see if the older kids could become playmates. The ones his age were…judgmental. They gave him strange looks and chuckled behind his back as much as they did to his face. So, Dagur tried to spend time with the teenagers. They should have been mature enough to not do that. Only one had agreed to let him join them by the docks–Ansson. Fishing was all fun and games until the larger redhead started trying to steal things from Dagur. The others found it amusing and assumed it would go quickly, but it did not. Dagur fought back. Halfway through punching out one teenager's teeth who had come to Ansson's defense, the heir saw a large shadow behind him. He tensed and hesitantly turned around. Dagur tried to offer the man a smile, but Oswald looked between him, Ansson, and the battered adolescents he saw on the grass.

"He attacked us, Chief," Ansson said, wiping blood off his lip.

Dagur's eyes widened and he was about to argue, but Oswald spoke first.

"I'm sorry he hurt you and your friends. I'll deal with this."

Nodding, Ansson gave the heir a smug grin and walked off for his home. Dagur glared at his back, then felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Hand over Uncle Haggard's knife," Oswald instructed.

The boy stared at him in confusion. "Why?"

"Because I'm taking it back."

"For how long?" Dagur asked, feeling nerves building in his stomach.

"Indefinitely."

The redhead stepped back, protectively touching the knife attached to his belt under his tunic. "He gave it to me."

"It was poor judgment on his part."

"But he still gave it to me."

Oswald could feel himself losing his patience. His eyes shifted slightly to take in who all was around them. There were still a few Vikings nearby, so he kept his voice low but threatening.

"Dagur, hand over the knife."

"I didn't even start trouble! Ansson did!"

"Dagur," Oswald repeated, eyes blazing. "I don't have time for this. We're about to sail to Berk. Relinquish it now or I'll take it when we're on the ship."

The Berserkers glared at one another. Dagur considered just waiting, but he knew there would be a fight if he did. Unhappily, the redhead took out the blade and held it out to Oswald. The man claimed it, then turned away to go onto the vessel. His son followed him and went up the ramp. On the deck, Dagur went to the starboard and looked out at the sea. Herald saw him and began to approach, but Oswald got his attention, directing him to be in charge of the mast. They sailed and as they got closer, Dagur was not sure if he felt excited or more discouraged. It was possible that the Berkian would remember what they had said, but he doubted this. Snotlout had probably found other people to spend his time with or he just had forgotten about him.

In a few hours, the vessel docked and the Berserkers left. They greeted the Berkian chief. Dagur had seen him a few times, but Stoick always was boring to him. It did not help that he was hesitant to spend time with the man's son. The last time, Dagur had tried to help the boy to work on his agility by throwing knives at him. Inexplicably, Oswald had gotten enraged as soon as they were in the privacy of their home. It was so bad that Dagur was nearly scared of being around Hiccup in case he did something to upset his father again. Therefore, he tried to sneak off again in search of the other Berkian. He doubted anyone would notice that he was gone. Dagur picked up his pace and grinned when he saw some familiar dark hair. Snotlout's back was turned, so the boy nearly jumped out of his skin when Dagur peeked over his shoulder and started talking.

"What are you doing?"

Snotlout yelped and turned around quickly. As soon as he saw who the other Viking was, he grinned.

"Dagur!"

The Berserker smiled back, then pointed at the sword Snotlout was holding. "Well? What are you doing?"

Snotlout looked back down at the weapon and frowned. "The stupid thing is dull. I can't figure out how to get it sharp, so my dad wants me to get rid of it."

Dagur glanced around, seeing several sharpening tools. He tilted his head in curiosity.

"It looks like you've been trying to sharpen it for a while."

"I have, but it isn't working. I'll just have to get a new one."

The boy's voice sounded so unhappy that it surprised Dagur.

"You don't want a new one?"

Snotlout hesitated, then puffed up. "Of course I do. All the Berkian warriors get new warriors. My dad gets a new one every week from Gobber. I should too."

"Seems weird that you're spending so much time on this one then if you don't care."

The younger boy shrunk a little. "I didn't say that I didn't care at all. It used to belong to my grandpa, so I wanted to keep it around, but a weapon that doesn't get used is worthless."

Frowning, Dagur crossed his arms. "Your dad thinks it's worthless just because it's not sharp?"

Snotlout nodded, then his eyes widened as Dagur snatched the sword from him.

"What are–"

The Berkian stopped talking when he saw Dagur plop on the grass and take out a stone he had hidden somewhere on him. Immediately, the redhead began sharpening the weapon. Snotlout blinked in surprise.

"Why are you doing that?"

"It belonged to your gramps. I thought you wanted to keep it," Dagur commented, lifting an eyebrow.

"I mean, I do…I just didn't think it would matter."

Dagur scowled and started sharpening faster. "That's a dumb thing to say."

"Hey!"

"Well, it is! Not like no one's lost anybody. It's nice to have things that remind you of them."

Snotlout's frown faded and he got quiet. Dagur had not stopped working, so the Berkian sat beside him. He watched as the bigger boy moved the stone in circular motions.

"Do you have something like this?" Snotlout asked.

The Berserker shook his head. "Not anymore, but I had a knife from my great uncle. Just lost it today."

"Did you misplace it?"

"Why would I do that?!"

Snotlout leaned back, taken off guard by the bigger boy's anger. "Uh, I don't know. I misplace things sometimes."

Just as quickly as Dagur had gotten angry, he calmed back down. "I always had it on me except when taking baths. Even then, it was within my reach. Someone took it."

"Who?"

The redhead did not answer and instead asked a question of his own. "Did your gramps use this a lot?"

Snotlout nodded his head. "He'd use it for everything from hunting for food to using it to keep a wobbly table steady if he was about to eat."

"I never thought about trying something like that out for a table. It's a good idea."

Dagur set down the sharpening stone. With a proud grin, he held out the ax again.

"There you go."

Snotlout beamed as he accepted the weapon. "Woah! It's sharp already. You just started working on it. How'd you do that?"

The Berserker stood up and shrugged. "I sharpen a lot of blades. Normally, they're mine. If that'd been a knife, I would've been done way faster." He pointed to the sword. "Think your dad will let you keep it now?"

A slightly nervous expression was on the Berkian's face as he responded. "I think so. He doesn't have anything against it. He just didn't think it was important if I couldn't use it."

"Why'd you act like you didn't either?"

Snotlout looked down at the weapon in his hands. "I don't know," he mumbled. "He said I shouldn't care. It's just a sword."

Dagur shook his head. "It's not 'just a sword' if it means something to you."

"Yeah, I thought so too." The younger Viking started to smile. "Come on, I'll show my mom. She wanted me to keep it. Even though he wasn't her dad, they got along really well."

Snotlout led Dagur towards his hut. Dagur stopped on the outside for a moment, prompting the Berkian to look back at him.

"Are you coming in?"

Dagur glanced behind him to see if Oswald was near them. Seeing that the man was not, he grinned and went through the doorway.

"Mom," Snotlout called.

Karina came around the corner and regarded the visitor in surprise.

"You brought a guest," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

Snotlout nodded, then pointed at the redhead. "This is Dagur. He sharpened Grandpa's sword for me. Look!"

The mother accepted the item, impressed at the job done.

"Thank you for doing this," she said sincerely.

Dagur grinned. "You're welcome. It was fun to see an older sword. It doesn't look like the ones we have back home."

"Can he stay over to hang out while the Berserkers are here?" Snotlout asked, giving his mother baby yak eyes.

"He can if it's all right with his parents."

"I asked already and my dad said it would be fine if I did," Dagur told her.

For a moment, Karina regarded him with an unreadable expression. Then, her face softened.

"I'm preparing some yak for dinner. I was going to ask Snotlout to help, but since you're both here, the work will go even faster."

Snotlout looked positively horrified and turned red. "Mom, warriors don't cook," he complained, looking at Dagur to see if he got his approval for this decision. "We just fight and train."

Dagur scrunched up his face at the other boy. "Why don't you want to cook? Then, you can eat as much as you want. Besides, when you're out hunting, it'll help to know how to cook, so you don't have to just eat dried meat."

"Yeah, well that's what I meant to say," Snotlout quickly said.

The Berserker squinted at him suspiciously. Karina just chuckled and gestured to another part of the hut.

"I'll handle the yak myself, but you two can work on cutting the vegetables. Make sure to clean your hands first."

Nodding, the boys went to a water basin, then each grabbed a basket of root vegetables that was on the table.

"Did you know that we were going to hang out at my place?" Snotlout asked, setting his basket down by the water.

"No. Just found out when we got here."

"Then, why'd you say you asked your dad already?"

Dagur frowned and rinsed off a potato. "Why does it matter?"

"Seems like a weird thing to lie about."

"Who are you calling a liar?" the Berserker snapped.

Snotlout blinked in shock. "Why are you mad at me?"

Dagur's frown faded and he glanced down. "I'm not really. I just…I don't know." The redhead paused, scrubbing some radishes. "He won't care as long as I'm not messing up something. Asking just would've bothered him." Glancing up, he asked, "Why'd you act that cooking was weird and then go all in on wanting to help?"

Snotlout started bringing several beets back to the table to cut. "I don't know either. Didn't think you'd want to do this."

"I don't mind. I think it can be fun."

The Berkian looked at him unsurely. "My dad said warriors don't do stuff like that."

After a silent moment, the redhead peeked up from cutting a carrot in half. He saw how Snotlout's eyes would not leave the vegetables, too worried about seeing agreement on the older boy's face.

"Guess that just means you'll be able to fight and feed yourself unlike him," Dagur mentioned.

This made the dark-haired Viking grin. "I guess you're right."

The Berserker smiled widely and quickly chopped up the rest of his vegetables. When he was done, he let out a strange-sounding chuckle.

"Plus, preparing food just gives you practice for cutting."

Snotlout chuckled as well and tried to see if he could match the visitor's speed. When they were done, both boys brought the baskets outside. They joined Karina near a big pot over a fire.

"You two finished slicing them quickly," she commented, pleasantly surprised.

"I really like knives," Dagur said, grinning a toothy smile.

His eyes had a peculiar twinkle, but Karina prioritized the happy twinkle in her son's eyes. Because of that, the mother gestured to a tree stump nearby.

"How good is your aim, Dagur?"

"It's great."

"Could you hit the center of the stump?"

"Yeah, watch!"

Dagur quickly drew a blade he had on him and threw it into the stump. It was perfectly in the middle. Snotlout's jaw could have hit the floor. Karina clapped for the young Viking.

"Nicely done. Maybe you could give Snotlout some tips while I work on seasoning the broth."

The little Berkian looked at the redhead hopefully. "Would you?"

Dagur nodded in excitement. "That would be fun. Let's see what you've got. Aim for the right next to my knife on the left."

The Berserker handed Snotlout another weapon, making the other boy wonder how many he had. Looking at the target, Snotlout threw the blade. He was close to where Dagur had thrown his, but there was enough room for three fingers to go between. Dagur tilted his head. When Snotlout saw this, he tried to puff up.

"I could've done better, but I didn't want–"

"If you adjust your stance, you'll get it closer," Dagur interrupted.

The Berkian stopped in shock, then saw Dagur straighten his back and draw out another blade.

"How many of those do you have?" Snotlout asked, dumbfounded.

"A lot more than this, but focus on what I'm doing. You were moving your torso forward as you threw. It messed you up. You want to be steady if you can. Watch."

Dagur demonstrated again and put this knife so close to the right side of the center blade that their sides touched. Snotlout took out one of the weapons and mimicked what he saw Dagur do. This time, he was able to get the knife to touch as well.

"That's what I'm talking about, Snotpocket!"

Snotlout grinned in pride and they kept throwing knives from various distances until a few minutes passed and Karina set a large spoon aside.

"I could use some taste testers if you lads know anyone who's interested."

Eagerly, the youths went over to her. Karina poured the broth into two cups and handed one to each of them. Their eyes brightened after they took a sip.

"This is really good!" Dagur said, drinking up the rest.

Snotlout nodded as he kept the cup to his mouth. "Mom's a great cook." Feeling a little more confident, he added, "I'll be like her with that someday."

Karina smiled and continued stirring. "I'm glad you both like it. It'll be better after the heat has let the seasonings really simmer. Until then, Snotlout, you should show Dagur where we test out weapons."

Her son turned to the redhead. "Want to go there?"

"A place where you test out weapons? Yeah!"

Happily, they ran off, leaving the mother to chuckle at their enthusiasm. They reached the location and Snotlout showed off some large pillars.

"We use these to see how strong our swords are."

Near the pillars, there was a wooden shield. It had a sword stuck in it, so Snotlout pulled it out and used it to attack the pillar.

"Mom was the first one to bring me here when I was little."

Dagur took a different sword and examined the blade. "Your mom seems cool."

"She is," Snotlout bragged. "I think she's the best on Berk."

They chipped away at the pillar until the Berkian's curiosity got the better of him.

"What's your mom like?"

Dagur switched hands to slice with his left one. "I don't really know."

"What do you mean?" Snotlout asked, stopping mid-swing.

"She and my sister aren't on Berserker Island anymore."

"Where are they?"

The redhead shrugged. "Not sure. They left a long time ago. I don't think I ever heard the name of the place."

Snotlout began to frown in confusion. "Why'd they leave?"

Dagur sliced some more, facial expressions shifting so quickly that Snotlout could not decipher what one meant before it had changed.

"Mom wasn't happy. She didn't think my sis would be happy either, so she took her one night and left."

"Why just your sister?"

"Dad needs an heir."

"Wait…an heir?" The stocky boy's eyes widened. "You're not just a Berserker, you're in line to be the Berserker chief?!"

"That's me."

"Why didn't you say that sooner?"

"Does it change anything?"

"Well, I guess not. It's cool, though. Wish I was an heir. Dad would be so proud if I ever became chief."

The Berserker frowned slightly and after a few more slices, he stopped. "Is there something else we can do? I'm bored."

Snotlout tapped his chin. "We could spar if you wanted."

This made Dagur grin, then he hesitated. "You're not going to run, are you?"

"Why would I run?"

"A lot of Vikings normally do when I try to spar with them. It'd be fun if you didn't."

The Berkian gestured to himself. "Snotlout Jorgenson doesn't run from anything."

He charged forward and got side-stepped by Dagur. The redhead dodged a second lunge, then it was Snotlout's turn to maneuver around a charge. On instinct, Dagur moved to punch and hit Snotlout's arm. As soon as he did this, he worried that he had messed up with his decision, but the boy did not get upset. Instead, Snotlout grinned and took advantage of Dagur's hesitation to swipe his feet from underneath him. Dagur was still for a second in surprise, then started laughing. They continued to spar and the Berserker pinned Snotlout to the ground. He laughed wildly, but it faded as he saw dark bruises on the back of the boy's neck. Then, Dagur turned his head when he heard some people behind them. They were mumbling and staring.

"Have you ever heard a laugh like that?" one asked.

"I heard the Berserker boy was crazy."

"I could've told you that."

They chuckled and Dagur got up from the grass, face red and hands balled into fists. He began marching over to them, but Snotlout got up as well and caught his arm. There was a scar on the upper part, but he decided to not mention that.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to teach them a lesson about calling me crazy!"

Snotlout looked at the Berkians and their judgmental stares.

"I don't think attacking them is going to help."

Dagur looked away from the group to Snotlout. "They're annoying me," he growled.

"Yeah," the Berkian said, chuckling, "I can tell."

"What are you laughing at?!"

"Not at you in a bad way," Snotlout assured him, hands raised.

The snarl did not leave Dagur's face, so Snotlout tried another approach.

"Try breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth."

"I know how to breathe, Snotlip."

"This is slower, though. Mom has Dad do it this way when he's really upset."

Begrudgingly, Dagur followed his suggestion. It began to help and he could feel himself calming down.

"Huh, that actually did work."

"See?" Snotlout said happily. "Consider it a thanks for fixing the sword."

Dagur grinned. "Okay, I will. Next time I'm here, want to hang out again?"

Snotlout nodded eagerly. "I was looking forward to today a lot. I was worried that you'd forget."

"Definitely not. I've been thinking about it all year."

"Really?" the Berkian asked, eyes wide with happiness and surprise.

"Yeah!"

For a moment, the duo just felt excited about the next time they would get to spend time together. In the moment afterwards, they tensed. They heard their names being yelled. Even though the voices did not sound angry, they still caused them to feel anxious. Just as it happened, they saw the change in one another. Oswald and Spitelout approached from either side of them. Dagur saw how Snotlout's jaw clenched when his father gestured for him to approach and Snotlout saw the unreadable look on Dagur's face when he went over to his father. One thought was shared in the minds of both boys.

"Is he like me?"