Stoick sailed back to Berserker Island before the week had ended. Hiccup was not worried about going this time. He was looking forward to being there again and his father knew this. It hurt Stoick to be unaware of how to change that fact.

"I'll have Gobber make more of those cups for when you get back," he said.

"Okay."

It did not seem to interest the boy much. The older Berkian sighed and continued sailing. On Berserker Island, Dagur was hoping the ship would arrive soon. Oswald could see the twinkle in his eyes and knowing it was there because he would be leaving was difficult to stomach.

"Don't forget to use defense strategies if you attack a dragon."

Dagur glanced at him. "I'll remember."

He did not say anything else as he looked back towards the docks. Oswald wanted to say more, but he did not know what. Sometimes, he worried he talked too much as it was. Therefore, they remained in silence until the Berkian ship arrived. The sons nearly sprinted to the other one's father, breaking their own fathers' hearts in the process. Looking at the ship, Oswald wondered if it would have made more sense for the Berkian to be Dagur's father. Two short-tempered redheads with their love of giving orders only rivaled by their love of battles. Maybe Oswald had just stolen Stoick's eldest child by accident and not noticed. Even if he had, that youth was a Berserker now and Oswald did not want that to change. He just did not know if the same happiness that was on Dagur's face as he greeted the Berkian would ever be there when they spoke.

"Have a safe voyage," Oswald said, offering a smile.

"Thank you," Stoick returned. "We'll see you…" He trailed off as he saw Hiccup standing with the other leader. "Later."

The Berkian heir seemed to be less out of place near Oswald. Stoick was even large compared to other Vikings whereas Hiccup was always small. Next to the Berserker, the boy was just a slightly small child who was looking up at the brunet with bright eyes–eyes that yearned to see the novelties of the world that Oswald promised to offer. Stoick wondered why that light would dim around him. He forced himself to set sail and watched as the island turned into a speck. When Stoick looked back at Dagur, he began to frown. He saw the bruises, but part of him did not want to only accept what Oswald had written.

"Your face," he commented. "What happened while you were there?"

"Nothing much. What do you want to do when we get back?"

The chief was quiet momentarily. "I thought we could go to Dragon Island."

Dagur's eyes lit up excitedly. "That would be fun!" His expression turned curious. "But why? Won't they just come to Berk later anyway?"

"They haven't been there all week, but it's been…let's say a frustrating time. Since directing that at other Vikings wouldn't be a helpful use of energy, I figured that preventing some dragons from ever going to Berk could help."

"That sounds good to me."

Stoick directed the ship to the other island. Soon, they saw their destination and docked. Before they disembarked, Stoick tried to keep a smile off his face.

"There's something I'm forgetting. Whatever it is, I put it below deck."

"Think you'd remember if I told you what was there?"

"I'd say it's worth a try."

Dagur nodded and started heading that way. The father let his smile appear once it would not spoil anything. Opening the latch, the Berserker went below deck. His eyes twinkled when he saw a familiar-looking ax. Happily, he laughed before going back up.

"You brought it!"

"Of course. Like I said, can't have you fighting dragons without a weapon like this."

Dagur beamed at the chief as they went down the ramp. Almost immediately, a dragon saw them. A Deadly Nadder shot several spines in their direction. When it did, Stoick moved to block, but some blades went into the sides of the spines. They shot the projectiles away from the Berkian. Dagur deflected those shot at him with the ax, then charged at the dragon. With a Berserker battle cry, he jumped and dug the blade in the reptile's neck. Just as he had remembered–softer than a tree trunk. The Nadder barely had a chance to retaliate before the ax went in too far for it to survive. It fell to the ground with Dagur standing on its back. Bloodlust was in the boy's eyes.

"That felt good," he said, more to himself.

That was just what the heir needed. He could not let out his anger on other Vikings, but he could with dragons. It was great to release his bottled up rage. One dragon was not enough, so Dagur was happy that they had gone to an island full of them. Stoick recognized the expression. He had it many times when going against enemies or when feeling so much frustration that the only proper outlet was tending to their dragon problem.

"Let's head deeper onto the island," Stoick suggested.

The Berserker nodded and began to follow the Berkian. He expected to be attacked again immediately, but nothing happened. The boy felt antsy. He wanted to fight some more. It was like there was one word he could hear in his head: kill.

"Dagur, take a few breaths," the chief advised.

Glancing up, the boy had a curious expression on his face. Stoick saw this and elaborated.

"It's difficult to pay attention to your surroundings when you're too focused on the kill."

Dagur looked thoughtful but not doubtful. "I didn't know that. They do it differently back home. Whenever someone finally gets angry and there's a battle, they just stay in that state."

"I've heard of that. It's a rage your Vikings go into where they don't always remember it afterwards, right?"

"Yeah, they sorta black out. By the time they come to, they're back to normal and it's like nothing happened."

Dagur decided to listen to the advice, so he breathed in and out a few times. He noticed that he did feel differently afterwards–calmer. It began to make him concerned.

"What if this slows down my reflexes?"

"It shouldn't," Stoick assured him. "Having a level head can normally help Vikings fight even better."

This caused the boy's eyes to widen in excitement. The Berkian kept glancing around them, trying to listen for dragon growls. He stopped when he noticed something and Dagur did as well. They stopped at the same time, picking up on the sound of dragon claws scraping the dirt.

"Sounds like a Monstrous Nightmare," the chief said.

"We could split up," Dagur offered. "You take one side and I take the other."

Stoick smiled. "I'll come at it from the front, you go around the back and stay in its blind spot."

The Berserker flashed a toothy grin before disappearing into the forest. Stoick began following the sound of the reptile and found it in the middle of eating a yak. Sliding his ax across some stones, the man drew its attention to him. The Nightmare turned and hissed, setting itself aflame. It shot a stream of fire at Stoick, but the man blocked the flames with his cloak. When the dragon opened its mouth wider, he stabbed it in the bottom of its jaw. The reptile roared again when its hind legs were slashed. It started to spin around to blast fire at Dagur, but Stoick cut its chest to prevent this. He slashed a second time with more force, digging into the dragon's flesh and spilling out blood. The Nightmare could not survive the blow and bled out onto the grass.

Stoick glared at the fallen beast. It felt good to him as well. He had spent most of that week in anger at himself for messing things up with Hiccup (and a little bit at Oswald for reminding him of how flawed their relationship was). It was cathartic to just go out and fight. It was plain for Dagur to see the satisfaction in the man's eyes due to the kill. Together, they kept fighting until the dragons on the island knew to avoid them. Stoick realized he had lost track of time when he saw the sun beginning to set. It was getting too late to sail back. He did not like night voyages and had not gone on enough to feel confident bringing someone else with him.

"Let's make a fire and stay here until morning," the man said.

"Works for me. I've always been good at starting fires."

They began walking towards a stream they had found earlier that day. Once they did, Dagur put out some rocks and set a fire.

"Ever eat a dragon?" the boy asked.

"No," Stoick told him. "They never seem appetizing and I've never been desperate enough. What about you?"

"Same. They seem gross. I'd rather just kill them." Dagur brightened up and laughed. "I have used some as bait. It works pretty well for the larger fish."

The Berkian stroked his beard. "I'll have to try that."

"We can now," the younger Viking offered hopefully. "There are plenty of dead dragons here."

"Let's give it a try," Stoick said, smiling.

Eagerly, Dagur went to find the Nadder. He began cutting off pieces on its legs, then ran to the ship to get a net. Stoick watched as he tossed the meat into the water. As they waited, the man glanced down at him.

"You mentioned how the other Berserkers have that rage. You don't?"

Dagur kept looking at the water, hoping to see some ripples. "It's not like theirs. They have the rage, but that's it. I don't forget what happens." He paused, brows furrowing. "Maybe it's because it doesn't end for me." Dagur laughed humorlessly. "For the others, it's the only time they're berserk. I stay that way."

"You don't seem angry now."

"It's not always being angry. It's…well, I don't really know," the boy admitted. "It's weird."

"It might just take time to understand more about it." Stoick considered something he wanted to address. "How did you get those bruises?"

Dagur frowned. "I told you, it wasn't anything much. Dad probably wrote to you about it."

"He did, but I still want to hear it from you."

"Why?" the boy asked, eyeing him unsurely.

"Because fathers don't always see things the way their sons do. I'm sure what you say would be different."

The Berserker hesitated, then sighed. "There's a Berserker who doesn't like me. Technically, a lot of them don't, but this one is really vocal about it. He likes to act on it too." Dagur snarled. "If I could, I'd run him through."

"Is he bruised as well?"

When the boy shook his head, surprise crossed Stoick's face.

"You're a good fighter," he said. "I'm shocked that he wasn't hurt."

"He would've been, but Dad doesn't want me to hurt anyone, so I didn't attack him. He stole the sword Dad had just given me and I couldn't even take it back because I would've broken something on him if I did."

The father got quiet as he thought of the letter. Dagur balled his hands into fists.

"Dad still blamed me for it! He thought I just went out and decided to attack someone randomly. As if I'd get roughed up when I actually was trying to fight," he growled. "He doesn't know a thing about me. Always assumes the worst. If there's noise on the island, it's because of me. If someone's hurt or screaming, it's because of me. One day, Ansson's going to kill me and Dad'll just say I shouldn't have started another fight."

Stoick's expression was sad as he regarded him. "Have you told Oswald about Ansson?"

"No, he wouldn't believe me if I did. It shouldn't be a problem for long anyway. Ansson will be joining the armada next year."

This made the chief blink in shock. "The armada? He's going to join next year?"

"Yeah, he's been training for it."

"But he's joining next year?"

The boy nodded and Stoick felt uneasy.

"How old is he?"

Dagur shrugged. "He's a kid I guess. Eighteen or something. Dad doesn't let anyone under eighteen start training."

The look in Stoick's eyes was serious as he spoke. "And does he regularly target you or was it just for the sword?"

"It's pretty often. On sight normally."

"Dagur," Stoick said, firm but not unkind, "you should tell your father about that. Ansson is too old to be going after you."

The smaller redhead looked surprised. "It seemed like regular bully stuff."

"No, that's concerning, lad. Oswald needs to know. He can't help if he doesn't."

Dagur huffed. "He wouldn't do anything even if he knew."

"Your father and I might not have a lot in common, but we're both chiefs and we protect our own. I wouldn't want anyone like that in Hiccup's life. I'm sure Oswald feels the same about you."

The Berserker was quiet as he saw the man's expression change again. He was thinking about the little Berkian. Maybe he was right that Oswald would care, but Dagur was not sure. All he was sure of was that Stoick cared about Hiccup. A sadness was in the man's eyes that had not been there during the first week of the experiment. Whatever had happened in the return, it had truly disappointed him. Dagur felt a little bad for the chief. He struggled to think of anything else while they kept fishing. On Berserker Island, the other half had warmly greeted one another when the Berkian ship set sail.

"I missed being here," Hiccup admitted.

"You were missed too," the chief told him.

The boy had been thinking of something ever since the first day he returned to Berk.

"Could we explore another island?"

The father paused, thinking of the letter. "Stoick never said he couldn't go. Taking him to a different island might get him to be more willing to talk about what happened when he went back." "I know an island not far from here that's very nice," he said. "I think you'd enjoy it if we went. Since it's familiar to me, we wouldn't even need to bring the others if you didn't want to."

Hiccup's eyes lit up. "What's on this island?"

"Now, I can't tell you that. Every good explorer needs to make discoveries. You can't if I spoil it all for you."

The boy chuckled and walked alongside the chief. "Okay, I'll be surprised then."

Heading to the docks, the duo boarded a ship. Happily, Hiccup saw the stool ready for him near the side of the ship so that he could look out.

"Did you try to explore with Stoick?" Oswald asked, after some minutes had passed.

This made the Berkian's smile fade. "Not really. He doesn't want to try that. Dad thinks it's a waste of time to explore." Hiccup glanced at the man. "I guess the switch back didn't go much better for you."

Sadness flashed in the chief's eyes. "It didn't go how I'd hoped." With a blink, he put on a smile. "But let's not dwell on that. We're almost to the island now."

He sounded happy enough, but Hiccup had still seen the expression on his face. It was simple to tell that the Berserker was at least as upset as the boy had been over the success of the return. Before long, a new island came into view. It was large and stony. Oswald docked and lowered the ramp for them.

"Lead the way, lad," the man said, gesturing to the island with his hand.

With a small grin, the heir began going towards the center of the island. He kept the chief's previous words in mind. First, he had to check that no one dangerous was there. Proudly, Oswald followed behind, watching as Hiccup did a sweep of the island to search for threats.

"He remembered," the man thought, impressed.

Hiccup kept going until he was sure that no Vikings were on the island. He did however notice an odd sound, but it was not human. It sounded like little whimpers.

"Do you know what that is?" he asked.

Oswald had heard the noise as well, but he had been unable to discern what it was. "No," he admitted. "I don't have the foggiest idea."

Protectiveness hit the father as the sound got closer. He started to move in front of Hiccup. To his surprise, the boy was already hurrying towards the noise. Oswald had to walk faster to stay with him. Hiccup stopped when he found the source. There was a tiny, flat-looking dragon with a twisted front leg. It had not even sensed the Vikings. When it did, it fearfully tried to scurry away from them. Hiccup held up his hands peacefully.

"We're not going to hurt you," he insisted. Turning to the Berserker, he asked, "What is it?"

Oswald wracked his brain, thinking over the dragon descriptions he had read. He did not have enough information and this was normally not on the island.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll need to see it do something before I can be sure. It's definitely a baby. That much I can tell."

This realization made the chief become tense. A baby was often followed by a mother or father dragon, neither of which he particularly wanted to greet. They had a tendency to be extremely protective even when the babies were not in danger. Yet oddly enough, no parents were in sight. The hatchling had been crying long enough for them to hear and find it, but no one else had come to check.

"It must be an orphan," Oswald supposed. "Either it was left or the parents were killed."

Hiccup felt second-hand guilt when he heard this. The parents were probably killed on Berk or by Vikings who thought like his people did. Now, the hatchling had to suffer. What had it done besides being born into a world where dragons and Vikings were at war? Hiccup was about to ask if they could help it, but Oswald spoke first.

"We'll need to make it a splint, so it doesn't hurt its leg any more than it already has. Come along with me just in case we're wrong and the parents are on their way back."

Obliging, the Berkian followed him over to some trees. Oswald selected a smaller one and chopped it down. He handed a chunk of wood to Hiccup along with a knife.

"Make this as wide as half your hand and as long as your forearm," he instructed. "That should be all that's needed for the hatchling."

Hiccup nodded and started cutting away at the material. Oswald saw the frown on his face that was not entirely due to his focus.

"It probably wasn't because of anyone on Berk. This is too far out. The dragon would've spent more energy traveling there and returning than what the food would give it."

"Even if Berk wasn't responsible, who knows how many other helpless dragons we've done this to?" Irritated, the boy's grip tightened around the splint piece. "All because of some small-minded Vikings who don't want to do anything they haven't before. They won't even consider something new. They act like it'll get them cursed by Odin."

"Change is difficult," Oswald said calmly. "Everyone responds to it differently. Some might just take a little longer to adjust."

"And others never do."

"Never is a long time. I don't like thinking about never or always. You never know what's going to happen," the man said, chuckling softly at himself.

Hiccup found himself chuckling as well, but he was doubtful about this. Berk would most likely always view dragons as enemies and nothing else. They would always view a shift from tradition as horrible–as a hiccup in the norm.

"What really happened while you were gone?" Oswald asked suddenly. "You seem so upset with Stoick."

The boy sighed before answering. "He said I wouldn't be a respected chief if I wanted to go exploring. It's not that I'm trying to stay away all the time and ignore the other Berkians. I just want to know what's out there too. I don't know how he doesn't see how much you can learn from traveling the world."

"Your father's spent years expecting things to be a certain way. It won't be immediate that he sees why you enjoy exploring."

"That's not the only thing, though. As soon as I went back, the only other Viking who noticed me was Gobber. It was just like it's always been. I didn't even end up asking this one kid my age if he wanted me to teach him how to work in the forge. I just figured that since nothing had changed so far, my luck with new friends probably hadn't either."

The Berserker stopped carving to look at the smaller Viking. "You can't think like that, Hiccup."

"Why not? I was kidding myself thinking this would work. When we switch back officially, it'll be like nothing happened."

"What about the inventions? I heard you made one."

"We did, but that was probably just because you told my dad that we'd been working with the forge. We can't spend all day inventing."

"Maybe not, but it's a start." The chief paused, looking thoughtful. "Do you tell Stoick the benefits of exploring?"

"Well…no, not really. I said that we could meet new people."

"Although that's true, you might have a better chance of convincing him if you mentioned some of the uses for exploring like finding new resources for Berk."

Hiccup considered the idea. "I could try that."

He still was not sure if it would work, but maybe it was worth a try. The boy wished his father could just be more like Oswald and already know the advantages of leaving Berk from time to time. After a couple more minutes, the pieces for the splint were finished and Oswald went over to the dragon. It roared at him and he covered his ears.

"A Thunderdrum," he said, a little dazed. "That's what this is."

"I've heard about those," Hiccup said, also covering his ears. "Can't they kill someone with their roar?"

"They can, which is why I'm very glad this one is a hatchling. It's not powerful enough yet. If we'd found it when it was older, that would have been an issue."

He tried to calm the dragon, but it still seemed scared. A discouraged expression crossed the man's face. Why did his attempts to soothe others just cause them to become more upset? Oswald was so focused on this that he did not notice Hiccup approaching on his side. The boy held out his hands carefully. Like before, the animal became less hostile.

"They don't hear very well," he recalled. "We'll just have to use body language to calm it down."

Slowly, Hiccup patted its head like he had done with the Terrible Terrors. It started relaxing into the touch. Once it had, Oswald was able to attach the splint.

"There's an island near here with more Thunderdrums. That's its best chance," the man stated.

Hiccup nodded and struggled to lift up the dragon. It was heavier than it looked, but he eventually got a good grip on it and was able to bring it to the ship with them. Once they reached the other island, Oswald took the dragon and stealthily brought it towards where the others were resting. Speedily, he returned to the vessel.

"Will they take it in?" Hiccup asked.

"I hope so. I can't be sure, but it would survive around its own kind better than if we tried to bring it back with us." An unhappy look crossed his face. "On Berserker Island, it would probably be unhappy and I'm not sure if I'd be able to comfort it."

Hiccup heard the miserable tone of voice, but he did not say anything about this. They started returning to the island and had a meal prepared by the cooks. After Oswald had gone to bed, the boy went to get a scroll of his own. It took him a few minutes to decide if he wanted to go through with this or not, but he finally started to write.

To Dagur,

I'm sure you're not expecting any letters from me, but I saw how sad your dad seemed today. I don't know what happened when we switched back, but I think he wants to make it work. He's more of a nurturer than a fighter which is probably why you two don't always get along. Maybe it would help if you got a pet together or something like that. I think he likes animals a lot. It might help him see a different side of you too. I'm not sure if it'll work or not, but I hope something will. It seems like he misses you.

Sincerely,

Hiccup

The Berkian heir was not the only one with a scroll. Dagur could not get Stoick's sad eyes out of his mind. As much as some of him wanted to do nothing so that he could just remain on Berk, he knew it would not be as much fun if the chief was miserable. So, half-begrudgingly and half-sincerely, Dagur took out a scroll and began writing.

To Hiccup,

Yeah, I didn't expect to write to you either. Your dad's really been bummed today. I didn't ask why, but I know it's because of earlier this week. You're not athletic (which you already know by now), but maybe you two could find some other ways to protect Berk. He's more protective than most Vikings I know. I bet that would make him happy to see you want to help him with it. I don't really know what you'd pick to do it, but anything's better than nothing. That's it. Actually, one more thing. Don't invent too many inventions with my dad. He'll start expecting me to make stuff with him too. Okay, now that's it.

From Dagur