The remainder of the week went well, but the fathers and sons considered what the next one would bring. This time, Stoick sailed to Berserker Island. It was impossible to miss the slight pout on Dagur's face, but the boy did not say anything. Apparently, he had annoyed the Berkian. That must have been why they were ending this after just one week. Dagur thought everything was going well. It was disappointing to believe he had been incorrect.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Stoick said, moving his gaze from the seas to the Viking.

Dagur glanced up at him. "Then why are we ending it already?"

"We're not necessarily ending it. I just…"

"Miss Hiccup?"

"Yes," the chief admitted.

The Berserker supposed that was fair, but he still felt a little jealous. He doubted that his father was missing him. Hiccup was lucky. The Berkian did not feel fortunate, though. He had been feeling the same as Dagur when he heard the news. He messed up without even realizing what he had done. The boy did not cause anything to be set on fire. Why was Oswald sending him back so soon? Surely, he could not think the experiment was as helpful as it possibly could be.

"This isn't because of anything you've done," Oswald stated sincerely. "We're just going to see how much success we've had with the plan. We won't know until we've swapped back."

"I thought you didn't want me here anymore," the boy admitted.

"Far from. I've greatly enjoyed your time on the island."

Hiccup smiled slightly, but it faded as he looked back at the water. The Berserker was so easy to talk to and reasonable. Dagur was lucky. Within a few minutes, the Berkian ship pulled into the harbor. Stoick and Dagur disembarked and a short, awkward silence fell over for the four Vikings. Oswald ended this with his voice.

"Welcome," he greeted warmly. "Stoick, we have a Great Hall of our own where you and I can talk privately."

Nodding, the Berkian glanced at Hiccup, trying to not let it sting that the boy looked disappointed to see him. He followed after the other chief and stopped once they had arrived.

"How's it been going?" Stoick asked.

"Very well!"

Oswald turned around to grab a sword. He handed it over to the Berkian who inspected it closely.

"It's a well-made weapon."

"I agree. It's the first one Hiccup made."

Stoick's eyes widened. "Hiccup made this? On his own?"

"Mostly. It's not just weapons. He loves to create. I haven't gotten a chance to see one of his inventions be made yet, but he sketches them often. He's full of great ideas, Stoick. I think he'd enjoy it if you worked with him on those creations."

The taller man regarded the weapon with some hesitancy. "Gobber's the blacksmith. I'm not sure how to help Hiccup with this."

"He gives good instructions. If you're willing to listen to them, you'd learn."

"Learn from Hiccup? I haven't done that before."

"There's no harm in trying it out." Oswald gestured around them to an array of axes and maces. "We made all these together without anyone getting hurt or anything burning that wasn't supposed to be set on fire."

"Really?"

Stoick almost thought that the other man was lying. He would have if he had not known him for so long. It just seemed so bizarre to imagine Hiccup with such competency in an area.

"You said you haven't worked on inventions yet?"

"We haven't. That could be something you both try." Oswald smiled. "He also likes to explore."

This made a concerned look cross the Berkian's face. "He shouldn't be exploring."

"Why not?"

"You've seen how small he is. Anything could kill him."

"Hiding him from the world won't keep him safe."

"Throwing him into danger won't either."

Oswald heard the fire in his friend's voice and shrugged. "I'm not trying to make you upset. He seems to enjoy finding new places to go. He's got an open-mind which can be a great thing for any child to have. I just wanted to share that with you."

Stoick took a breath and offered an apologetic look. "I know. I never said not to go, so it's not really fair to be angry that you went. I…might see if that's something we do. I'm not sure yet. I'll have to think about it."

"I hope you do. He's very worried about how small he is. Just speaking from what I've seen, I think it would help if you didn't treat him differently from the others in spite of that. He's begun making friends here and seemed to doubt it ever would be possible since he's so much skinnier than most Vikings."

Sadness crossed the Berkian's face. He did not want his son to have such insecurities. He just did not know how to help him with that.

"But how did you not treat him differently? Don't you have to adjust to keep him from getting killed?"

Oswald tapped his chin. "I did adjust with some things like me working more on the larger weapons. Besides things like that, I just interacted with him as I would with any other Viking around his age. He doesn't seem so worried about it if no one else makes it seem like a big deal."

Stoick considered the words. "I'll keep that in mind too."

"I hope so. How's it been going with Dagur?"

The visitor smiled. "Nicely. He's a great warrior."

"Yes, well that's never really been the problem. Has he caused any trouble?"

"No, he hasn't. We've been sparring. He'd probably enjoy it if you sparred together."

"The last time he did that…"

"He knocked out someone for a week," Stoick said, chuckling. "He told me. That wasn't an issue. His skills are too promising to let them be wasted. You should train him. He's a fast learner. It wouldn't take you long."

"I don't think it would take long. I just don't want to feed into his violent nature."

"He is a little more naturally violent than other children, but if you point him in the right direction, it won't be an issue."

Oswald lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "I want a son, Stoick, not a catapult I can direct at my enemies."

"I know, but he'll be a great help to your island as long as you cultivate his skills. Dismissing them will only make him resentful and bored. He seems to get bored easily."

"He's never entertained," the man said, dejected. "I never thought I was dull until he was born. I don't know how to keep him engaged in anything."

"If you don't want to fight, Dagur also likes joining me out in the village. He doesn't mind the more challenging sides of being chief like answering questions and working in the tribe. He even helped us find a way to fight the dragons without risking as many lives."

The Berserker's eyes widened. "You used one of his plans?"

"It was a good idea." Stoick's tone shifted slightly. "He's just worried about his mind. He doesn't like not understanding things, but I suppose most of us are like that."

"But most of us are able to comprehend more than he does."

"He's still a clever lad, Oswald. Sure, he thinks differently than a lot of us, but that doesn't make him daft." Stoick paused. "He mentioned something when one of the Berkians became harsh. 'Crazy.' Has someone here called him that?"

Oswald sighed unhappily. "Probably. That's another concern of mine. I can't keep track of him. I don't know who all is saying what and he never tells me. He just returns home looking angry."

"It might take a bit to get him to talk about what's bothering him, but you shouldn't give up."

"But how do I work with his mind?"

"You could explain things more thoroughly to make sure you're both on the same page."

Oswald was quiet as he considered that. "I'll try to remember that." He glanced towards the doors and clapped his hands. "Well, I guess this is all we have for one another now. Ready?"

Stoick sighed. "Not really, but let's do this."

They began to return to the docks. When the fathers had left, the sons remained there to wait. It was quiet like before. Dagur was the one to break the silence this time.

"So, you're exploring now with my dad?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Yeah…it's fun," Hiccup said awkwardly. "I guess you and my dad are killing dragons?"

The Berserker nodded his head. "I don't get to do that a lot."

Dagur glanced off where the fathers had gone. When he looked back at Hiccup, he saw how worried the smaller boy looked. His gaze was on the Great Hall too. The Berkian seemed like he was terrified the fathers would return and his own would be let down by being around him again. Dagur did not like that he could relate to the feeling.

"Stoick will be glad to have you back," he commented, taking out a knife to play with.

Hiccup turned to him in surprise. "You really think so?"

"He was the one to suggest this. I saw a note he wrote."

The younger boy felt astonished by that. "He really wanted to have me back on Berk?"

"I mean, I guess so. Doesn't make sense for him to write that otherwise. He also said he missed you."

Hiccup started to feel happier, but he saw the troubled expression on the other heir's face. "Oswald would probably enjoy it if you wanted to go sailing with him somewhere new," he suggested. "He seems to like making discoveries or learning different things."

Dagur glanced at him, thinking it over. "Maybe." When he saw the fathers approaching, he side-eyed the other boy. "Good luck."

"You too."

Hiccup followed Stoick to their ship and contained a small sigh at not being able to see anything over the edge again. His father noticed the subtle change of demeanor, but he was not sure what the reason was.

"He's already so disappointed to be returning," the man thought unhappily. "Maybe what Oswald said will help change his mind." "I heard you'd been working with the forge," he said.

Hiccup's ears perked up. "We spent a lot of time there," he admitted. "It was pretty fun."

"I also heard you didn't get a chance to work on any new creations of your own. Would that be something you'd want to do once we docked?"

The boy blinked in surprise. Was Stoick the Vast really showing an interest in inventing? Hiccup doubted it would be wise to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

"Yeah, I would."

Stoick smiled softly. "What was something you wanted to make?"

"A lot of things honestly." Hiccup paused to consider where would be a good place to start. "I've been thinking of making something to hold water in and keep it hot for a while. Especially when it's in the coldest part of winter, that could help."

Stoick's temporary silence made the heir concerned. Maybe he had pushed his luck too much. It most likely sounded unimportant to a warrior like his father. A cold Viking was just one who was not spending enough time battling dragons.

"That's a really good idea," the chief stated.

He sounded impressed. It seemed so unfamiliar to hear in his voice that Hiccup nearly thought he had misinterpreted the tone; however, the warm smile made him realize he had been right the first time.

"Do you actually think so?" Hiccup asked, shocked.

"I do. We could probably work with Gobber to see what metals would be best."

Excitement bubbled in the heir's stomach and he nodded. For the remainder of the voyage, the father and son spoke about how they could make this creation a reality. When they docked, Gobber was nearby to greet them. He smiled brightly at the boy.

"Welcome back, Hiccup," he greeted. "Missed having you here."

"I missed you too."

A twinge of envy hit Stoick, but he did not let it bother him for long. Instead, he got to their idea.

"Hiccup wants to make cups that can hold beverages while keeping their heat. Do you think you could help us with those?"

Gobber scratched his chin in thought. "Keeping drinks hot…I bet steel would work."

Something occurred to Stoick as his brows furrowed slightly. "But won't it just burn anyone who holds it?"

Hiccup shook his head. "I was thinking about that too. It should be okay if we add some layers to insulate the heat. Three might be enough."

Glancing at the blacksmith, Stoick saw Gobber nod.

"He's right," the blond confirmed. "We just need to learn how much we need."

Gobber began leading the way to the blacksmith shop. It almost felt peculiar for Stoick to go there with them. He had never stayed longer than the time it took to get one of the Vikings or grab a weapon. Standing there near the hammers and anvils, Stoick found himself feeling awkward. Hiccup saw this and walked over to him.

"Do you want to yellow the steel?" he asked, gesturing to the material.

"I could do that."

Stoick took the tongs and grabbed the metal. Hiccup approached the fire with him, keeping an eye on the heating process.

"I think that's good," the boy said.

Removing the steel, Stoick set it down on the anvil. Instinctively, he looked at Gobber.

"Well?"

"Well what?" the blond asked.

"Aren't you going to start turning this into a cup?"

A half-devious, half-serious look crossed Gobber's eyes as he shook his head. "No."

"What do you mean 'no?'" Stoick asked, appalled.

"I'm just watching to make sure I'm the only one who leaves here without both hands."

Stoick went closer and lowered his voice. "Gobber, I don't know how to shape this metal."

"Hiccup's probably got some plans for that. Just listen to him."

Unsurely, the father turned back to his son. He had to trust him. It was not that he necessarily did not trust him, but Hiccup was just a lad. How would he know the proper way to do this? Still, perhaps he deserved the benefit of a doubt.

"What's next, Son?" Stoick inquired.

Hiccup started to feel a sense of pride in his chest. His father was actually asking for his guidance.

"We'll need to make sure it's flat," he instructed.

The boy went to one of the hammers and tried to bring it over to his father. Stoick carefully took the tool from him before he had to carry it far. The chief let it hover over the steel, getting a nod of approval that it was positioned correctly for him to start. With that done, Stoick started flattening the metal. It was surprisingly more tiring than he expected.

"Why do you like this work?" he asked.

The question came out a little more judgy than he intended. Stoick heard that after it came out his mouth.

"Not that there's anything wrong with it," he clarified. "I just never knew what made you start."

Hiccup followed him back over to the fire when he started the second yellowing process. "I guess it's a good way for me to help out. I don't know what else I can do. Just want to be useful."

Stoick heard more in his words than what he said. He could tell it went deeper than wanting to be useful. Hiccup did not want to be considered useless and the thought of his son considering himself that way saddened the chief.

"You'll always be useful," Stoick stated, then wondered if that was the word he should have said. "Valued," he corrected.

The man almost groaned at himself. Why was this so difficult? He could talk to Vikings from any tribe, yet he struggled to hold a simple conversation with his son. It seemed like Hiccup was focusing on the first word. He needed to be useful to Berk. Gobber saw how his friend was struggling.

"This part looks good," he said, coming over to look at the metal. "You can start working on the second layer now."

Hiccup quietly nodded his head, then Stoick repeated what he had done the first time. The silence was eating away at him. It was getting to Hiccup as well. Things seemed to have been going so smoothly, but they suddenly felt weird again.

"Maybe I could teach some of the other Berkians my age how to do this," the boy suggested.

"That would be good," Stoick said, relieved that they had found a topic. "You can never have too many Vikings who know how to make weapons. If anything happens that causes us to lose our weapons, our people will be ready. Who would you want to teach first?"

"Maybe Fishlegs. He might be interested."

"I'm sure Spitelout will also want Snotlout to learn."

Hiccup seemed hesitant and Stoick noticed.

"You don't want to teach him?"

"He doesn't like me very much. Astrid doesn't either, so I'd just teach Fishlegs…and maybe Gustav when he's older."

"I'm sure they don't dislike you," Stoick said. "They're just used to more…athletic Vikings."

"Yeah, I guess everyone is," Hiccup commented.

The father became quiet, wondering why he had decided to mention athleticism. They kept working on the container until Gobber assured them that it was done.

"Okay, testing time," Hiccup said, feeling a bit anxious but mostly excited.

The Vikings boiled water and poured some into the cup. Immediately, Stoick began to smile.

"The layers worked to not have it burn anyone by holding it. Now, we just have to wait to see if the heat will remain," he said, putting on the lid.

"I've got some axes to fix," Gobber stated. "So, I'll have to hear about how your test goes unless you stay here to wait."

Stoick glanced at Hiccup. "I need to check on some things in the village. We could bring this with us."

The boy agreed to the idea and they wished Gobber luck with his repairs before heading out. Not much seemed to be going on in the village, but Stoick still wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong. He would speak with the Vikings who came up to approach. They hardly paid any attention to the boy, so Hiccup remained quiet at his father's side. The only thing he had to do was keep track of the water.

"If this works, we could use it on voyages," Hiccup stated as they continued walking around the village.

"We could," Stoick admitted tensely, "but I don't think that would be necessary."

"Why not? We could find more Vikings and things out about the world if we leave Berk every once in a while."

"We'd also find more threats. New people aren't automatically good people. We don't need any more enemies."

The chief's expression was unreadable. Hiccup began to frown.

"We could also make more friends. I didn't even realize that the Berserkers aren't aggressive and weird. Who knows how many other people there are outside the Archipelago?"

"They shouldn't be our focus. We need to concentrate on our Berkians and make sure they're fine."

"We can do that while also exploring."

"A chief doesn't spend his time exploring. He has to manage the island and protect his Vikings."

Hiccup's frown deepened slightly and he mumbled, "Oswald can do all that."

Stoick heard him and frowned as well. "Get your head out of the clouds. Nothing good comes from daydreaming about where you could be when there are people with you who need your attention. You can't expect to be a respected leader if you aren't willing to put in the effort."

Looking down, the chief saw Hiccup with his eyes low.

"I just want to learn more about the world too," the boy thought.

Stoick wondered what was going through his mind. The rest of the walk through the village was quiet except when Berkians approached the chief with their issues. Stoick began to feel like he had been too harsh. Maybe Hiccup did not want to neglect his duties. It was possible his father just did not understand what he wanted at all. That night, dinner was quiet as well, but Hiccup took off the cup's lid before going to bed.

"It stayed hot," he said. "Good night."

The boy went to his room as the chief looked at the steam coming from the water. Stoick let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe Oswald is having more luck," he thought.

Earlier that day when the Berkians had left, Oswald and Dagur regarded one another unsurely.

"Stoick said you two sparred," the father said.

"Yeah, we did," Dagur told him.

"Do you want to…" Oswald drew out the word as he thought, "learn a different technique?"

This made the boy's eyebrow raise. "A fighting technique?"

The chief nodded. "Yes, I was thinking that I could teach you some moves with sword fighting."

Dagur squinted at him in suspicion. "Stoick must have really gotten in his head if he wants to teach me to do something violent," he thought. "Okay, sure," he said.

Truthfully, the boy doubted they would do much of anything. Oswald would probably start showing him some move, then think about all the ways he could use it and decide against the idea. Therefore, Dagur did not want to become overly hopeful. It would not do him any good to be excited and then disappointed. They headed towards the training area of the island in silence. Once they got there, Oswald picked a sword and gestured for Dagur to do the same.

"Not that one," the man said, causing a frown to appear on the boy's face.

"Why not?"

"Vorg said the blade's been weird all week."

The explanation hardly made more sense to Dagur, but he reluctantly put it down. Noticing the irritation, Oswald remembered what Stoick had said about being explicit with his words.

"The blade isn't very strong," the father added. "If we hit it wrong, it might shatter."

"Oh," Dagur said, eyes widening in realization. "That makes sense. How about this one?"

"That works."

A grin appeared on the redhead's face and he eagerly got into a fighting stance.

"You should use both hands for a better grip," Oswald stated.

Dagur fixed his form and the chief saw he already was keeping his arms close to himself, so he did not need a correction there.

"What now?"

"We can work on defense."

The redhead faked a yawn. "Boring. The best offense is a good defense."

"That is definitely not what anyone says. Defense is good because you'll be able to keep your weapon and keep yourself safe. Relying on offense is relying on you being better than all your opponents. Realistically, you won't be."

Dagur paused as he considered the man's reasoning. "Fair enough," he said. "I guess I can't kill everyone."

"Ideally, you won't even want to."

Oswald knew he might have been asking for a bit too much with that. This was proven by the scrunched up face Dagur gave him. The chief just held in a sigh and began going through the defense techniques. Quickly, Dagur learned the new moves. Once this happened, a twinkle shone in the boy's eyes.

"Can I learn the offensive stuff now?"

The father was hesitant and looked at the boy. "I can't unteach you anything."

"No, I guess you can't, but what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that once you know it, you know it. You can use it however you'd like, but I'd prefer if you didn't use offensive techniques against our Vikings."

"I won't," Dagur assured him. A big smile crossed his face. "They'll be safe from me."

Oswald nearly mistrusted this until the redhead spoke more.

"Our enemies won't be safe, though."

That sounded more like his son. Sighing softly, the man got into a fighting stance.

"Alright, I'll show you a little. Don't try to stab with swords. That throws off your balance. Keep your form and remember the basics during the fight."

Dagur nodded and began practicing what he said. An idea came to him after a few minutes.

"What if we used the element of surprise in these fights too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Even if they see us fighting, we could use things around us like…the pebbles," Dagur said, flicking one at Oswald's boot.

The chief chuckled slightly. "True. It's clever of you to make the most of your surroundings. Ingenuity is needed in fights more than brute strength although that doesn't hurt either."

Dagur beamed at the chief and Oswald found himself happy to have caused that. Next, they continued their back and forth. The heir would attack and Oswald would block, then they would reverse. Bit by bit, it started to resemble a proper spar for sword fighting. Dagur let out an excited laugh as they traded blows. After a bit more time, Oswald signaled for them to stop.

"That's enough for today," he said. "But I need you to promise me that you won't try to use what I've taught you to hurt any of our ally tribes or Berserkers."

"I won't. There are plenty of dragons for me to practice the moves on instead." Before Oswald could say anything else, the heir gestured to the sword they had deliberately not chosen. "Are we going to bring that to the forge for someone to fix?"

"We could do that. I've been meaning to get to it," the chief admitted.

Grabbing the weapon, the boy began walking with his father into the village.

"So," he said, eyes twinkling, "since we're working with swords, can I get one? Or my own ax? Both would be nice too."

Oswald paused for a moment. "Why do you like fighting so much?"

Dagur shrugged. "I'm good at it." Something changed in his eyes as he continued to speak. "I'll at least still be able to protect the other Berserkers even if I'm not the type of chief they're used to having."

The chief thought this over. "I'm sure you'll be a chief they're happy to have." He saw the doubtful expression on the boy's face. "You'll just have to try to not scare them as much like when you were making the kids your age juggle their maces."

"It was a game," Dagur said, frowning. "I wasn't scaring them."

"They were terrified."

"Then they should've said that."

"I don't know why they'd need to tell you that it scared them to juggle weapons."

The boy's frown got deeper and he looked away from Oswald. This made the father feel bad. Things were just less obvious to Dagur than they were to him, so he had to adjust.

"People normally get frightened when they think their lives could be in danger," he said.

Annoyance flashed in the redhead's eyes. "I know most people want to live."

Oswald let out his sigh. It was so difficult for him to determine what would or would not upset his son. If he assumed the boy knew something, it would often cause someone to be hurt. Now, even explaining it was offending the heir. What was the alternative? Did he explain or let him learn on his own?

"Maybe you should ask people more questions before you commit to having them do something with you," he said carefully.

Dagur did not immediately respond and Oswald was worried he had struck another nerve. Upon looking at the boy, he saw this was not the case. Dagur was just thinking over what he had said.

"I could do that," he responded.

The chief felt relief wash over him and they reached the blacksmith shop. They gave the faulty sword to the welder, but Oswald did not start leaving just yet. He grabbed one of the newer weapons, then left with Dagur following behind him. Once they were out of the shop, the father held the weapon close.

"I'm going to give this to you, but remember what I said."

Dagur gleefully laughed and nodded. "I'll remember! Thanks!"

When the sword was given to him, the younger Berserker excitedly slashed the air. He could not wait until there was a dragon in his path. All he needed was to get out and find one.

"Chief," Herald called.

Oswald turned to the voice and saw the man approaching. The general nodded his head to Dagur who happily grinned back.

"I've got a sword now," he told him proudly. "Isn't it cool?!"

"Quite, I had one like that as a lad." The Viking glanced at Oswald. "There's a problem with farming. Someone's ruining the crops. It's probably a prank, but I wanted to tell you."

The chief grunted quietly. "I'll check it out and see what's going on."

"I can come with you," Dagur offered.

Oswald looked doubtful. "The farmers are still a little wary about the last time."

"Most of the grass grew back," the redhead said sheepishly.

"Yes, but fires tend to be difficult to forget about," Oswald said. "I'll handle that, then I'll be back."

Begrudgingly, Dagur nodded and went off towards the forest while Oswald went to the farms. To prevent boredom, the boy dug his new blade into some tree trunks. He compared how that felt versus how it was to slash the reptiles with his ax on Berk. It was a little similar. The Gronckles were tougher to cut; the Deadly Nadders were easier. Dagur started getting into a good rhythm with his slices, but he stopped when he sensed someone coming up behind him.

"Hey, Dainty," Ansson greeted, arms crossed. "I'm surprised Oswald swapped you back. Berk's chief got sick of you too, huh?"

The redhead's grip on the sword got tighter. "Get out of here, Abominable."

"I don't feel like it." The bully's eyes moved to the sword. "Nice weapon. Was it yours?"

"It is mine."

"Not anymore. I want it."

"If you want it in your head, I can make sure that happens," Dagur threatened.

Ansson smirked at him. "I doubt it. The last thing your pops would want is for you to get in a fight on your first day back. If you used that sword on me, he'd probably just try to find a more permanent way to keep a menace like you off the island."

The heir snarled, remembering what his father had said. To his dismay, the older Berserker was right. He could not use the weapon on anyone. Oswald would just be disappointed in him and he did not want something like that to happen as soon as he got back.

"So, be nice and hand that to me."

Dagur did not move to hand over the sword. He did not have to fight Ansson, but he also did not have to give up his new weapon. The soldier trainee noticed his indignation and stalked towards him. Quick reflexes kept Dagur from getting punched, but what held him back was his inner turmoil. So much of him wanted to lash out at Ansson and use his new sword to cut the young man in half. He kept trying to stop himself and would manage to just in time. Unfortunately, this internal battle would cause just enough delay in movements for Ansson to eventually get the edge. Several hard blows went into the heir's head, knocking him into a tree. His grip on the sword loosened enough for Ansson to take it. Dagur growled and started to push against the tree trunk, but he stopped when the blade was pointed at his throat.

"Let's end things here today, Dainty," the larger Viking said. "Would hate to get my new sword bloody already."

Chuckling, Ansson turned and started walking back into the village. Dagur glared after him and had to use all his restraint to keep himself from throwing knives into the other Berserker's back. The boy got up and went by his hut to angrily stab the table. Oswald had not been able to find him anywhere else when his work had finished, so he returned home. It was dark, but he could faintly see a blade being pressed into wood.

"What did that poor table do to you?" Oswald asked jokingly.

The man's expression became more serious when his vision adjusted. He saw his son's split lip and what seemed like the beginnings of a black eye.

"What happened?" he asked, worried.

Oswald went over with concern in his eyes. Dagur glanced up at him, seeing the look on his face. He considered telling him, but the chief spoke too quickly.

"Did you start fighting someone?"

Anger filled the boy's body and he stood up. "It's always me, right? If there's a problem on the island, it's always me! Why even ask what happened if that's what you're going to think?"

The redhead stormed out of the kitchen and went to his room. For the next few days, both sets of fathers and sons struggled to interact without awkwardness. Stoick found himself back in his room, writing.

To Oswald the Agreeable,

I was hasty with wanting to swap back already. Hiccup and I made a little progress with us creating an invention together, but that's it. We still don't understand enough about one another yet. I can't grasp why he'd want to leave Berk and he doesn't see why I think it's a bad idea. He's been so quiet ever since I scolded him for wanting to explore. I'm not sure for how long yet, but could I send him to Berserker Island again? I think the experiment is working. It just needs a little more time.

Your friend,

Stoick

To Stoick the Vast,

Yes, Hiccup can return. I'm relieved to see your letter. I've not had much more luck with Dagur. We had fun while sparring, but he went out and fought someone with the new moves I had just taught him. He got very upset when I mentioned that and has been in a foul mood ever since, so consider this a warning. I hope he'll be more cheerful when I tell him that he can return to Berk. He seemed to enjoy it more than his time here. See you soon.

Your friend,

Oswald