My apologies for the wait. I took some time off of this to update another one of my stories. I'm going to continue working on both of them, so updates will be a little less frequent. If you're at all interested, the other series is from the videogame Fallout 3.

Prodigal Son 28

Astrid and Hiccup circled around to approach Stoick's fleet from behind. The most challenging part of their plan was getting Stormfly to stay behind with Fishlegs. It had taken a little convincing, with Hiccup eventually giving the nadder some sweetgrass, and quiet words neither of the other two heard. Stormfly settled right down after that.

The fleet was actually within sight of Berk by the time Hiccup and Toothless were circling overhead. Astrid was seated behind him, gripping the safety wires as tightly as she could.

"I really hate this idea." She told him.

"I would too."

"I mean I hate it!"

"You said you were up for it."

"That was back in the cove." Astrid stared down at the ocean, some four hundred meters below. The weather was fair, but she could still see the occasional whitecap. She knew the waves would be a lot larger once she was struggling to stay above them. The water would be cold, and solid ground would be a mile beneath her kicking feet.

Astrid had loved swimming occasionally in the rivers and streams of Berk, and sometimes on its beaches, but the idea of being stuck in the open ocean with nothing to rely on but her own energy, which she knew from experience was a finite resource, was genuinely frightening. The fact that she was going to be dropped only meters from the incoming fleet helped far less than it should have. She couldn't help but imagine Jormungandr the sea serpent bursting from the black depths, jaws wide open, and how helpless she would be.

"Isn't your full name Fearless Astrid Hofferson?"

"Shut up." She snapped. "Imagine all the things that are probably living down there!"

"Fish are pretty frightening." Hiccup agreed.

"There's more than just fish in the ocean, idiot."

"Bigger fish. And is idiot a term of endearment?"

Astrid drove two of her knuckles into his back making him arch. "Ow, my kidneys!"

In retaliation, he pulled Toothless into multiple barrel rolls, throwing her out into the open air. The world spun and whirled into a great blue blur, but Astrid was still very much aware of that helpless, weightless feeling which always came with freefalling. She screamed, caught between rising fear, and boiling rage.

They retrieved her a moment later, Toothless catching her by her shoulders. Astrid roared at them as they swept down towards the fleet. "Hiccup, I am going to cut off your balls and feed them to a troll! I am going to rip out your tongue and throttle you with it! I'm going to cut a hole in your skull and gouge out your brain with a wooden spoon! Then feed it to you!"

"The wind is really whistling up here, Astrid!" he shouted down playfully. "I can't hear you."

"You're wearing a helmet you jackass!"

"So I am. That might be the problem, then."

The boy was certainly far bolder when he was sitting atop his dragon.

"Fuck you!" she shouted.

"Well next time use your words instead of punching me!" he shot back. "Now get in character, we're nearly there!"

They were indeed approaching the fleet at breakneck speed. She could see Berk's warriors scrambling across the decks for weapons. It occurred to her that they might actually fire. She glared up at Toothless' underbelly. "If I die from this, Hiccup, I swear to the gods I will kill you!"

"That sounds logical. Quick, what's my alternate name?"

"Arseface."

"Prometheus, but you get an 'A' for effort. When am I coming to visit Berk?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I'll be ready with my axe!"

"Is that so? What do you think, Toothless? She wants to axe me. What height shall we drop her from?"

Astrid could have sworn she heard the dragon snigger.

Berk was finally in sight! Stoick was feeling both relieved and anxious. Even with all the uneventful hours and miles the fleet had put between itself and that hellspawn, He was still in a state of near disbelief that they had managed so clean a getaway. There was a metaphorical shoe, he felt, still waiting to be dropped.

This is why he reacted so strongly when Snotlout on the next longship over shouted a warning and pointed up into the sky.

A black shape was circling about four hundred meters above their heads. It was unmistakable, even at that distance. The mysterious rider and his night fury had followed them!

Stoick scowled. He knew it had been too easy! Far too easy! "Shields up! Bows at the ready! Prepare for an attack!"

There wasn't much they could do. Stoick had not seen or heard a night fury since… since before Hiccup had died, but he remembered well their destructive power. The small fleet were sitting ducks, out in the open ocean. If the dragon decided to rain down fire, there was little any of the warriors could do to prevent their ships from being blown to pieces.

The Berkians cried out in alarm, reaching for bows and spears and anything they could get their hands on. Instead of taking them head on, the night fury remained high out of range. It spun in the air throwing a man-sized object off its back and catching it underneath. Then it dove towards the boats. The Vikings tensed, preparing let loose a volley of arrows.

Yet at the last second the black shape swerved to the side and circled at a fair distance. Stoick could hear shouts echoing from across the expanse of water. He squinted at the shape which was wiggling underneath the sleek black dragon. Blonde hair, a leather skirt, and a particularly familiar obstinate voice…

"Hold your fire!" He called out, "Hold your fire! He's got Astrid!"

Gods... that young woman must have had the blessing of every god in Asgard for all the scrapes and struggles she had survived. Astrid the Fearless? No, she would have to be renamed: Astrid the Favored.

The night fury circled closer, and Stoick could make out its rider's lanky profile, standing in his stirrups. It was the strangest, most unnatural and disturbing sight he had ever witnessed. The phantom moved like a human, but Stoick knew he was something different. A god or a devil of some sort; humans could not ride dragons. The two were mortal enemies.

The night fury halted before the fleet, only about twenty meters from the bow of Stoick's ship. Its black claws were gripping Astrid's shoulders tightly. Silence fell across the longships, aside from the sound of water lapping at their hulls, and the steady rhythmic flapping of the beast's wings.

Stoick exchanged an apprehensive glance with Lars Thorston, the ship's captain, and then clambered to the bow, where he faced the night fury head-on, staring straight into its slitted green eyes. The rider's eyes were in shadow, and Stoick could see nothing at all under his helmet. He decided it must be a shade, or a ghost of some kind. A foul thing, to be dealt with by the Goethi's magic, should it continue to haunt them. The trick lay in getting back to Goethi alive.

"Astrid?" he called out.

"I'm all right, sir!" she replied. "Just don't shoot me!"

"It could be a trick, sir!" Snotlout called out. He had maneuvered his ship around, and was approaching the rider from the side, staying a good twenty meters back. "She could be a demon too!"

"He's right, Chief." Lars said quietly, watching the dragon rider closely.

"If I'm a demon, Snotlout, I swear by Thor's name, you're dying first!" Astrid shot back, glaring down at the young Jorgenson.

"It's definitely not a trick." Stoick said, noting the shieldmaiden's glare. On longships all around them, Vikings were nocking arrows. Stoick raised a hand, and they all prepared to fire. The rider noted the movement, and his black leather armour creaked as he tensed in his saddle. His beast growled and narrowed its eyes.

Stoick addressed the rider. "You! What do you call yourself?"

The rider sat back in his seat, surprised at being addressed so directly, but Stoick was nothing if not direct.

"Prometheus." The apparition declared.

Whispers passed through the seated sailors, and across the fleet, weapons were gripped more tightly. "Proma-what?" "Is he casting a spell?" "He's a foreign dog. No Viking would ride a dragon!"

"I'm going to drop Hofferson." The masked rider declared. "Will you take her aboard?"

"I will." Stoick noted the grimace crossing Astrid's face. The foamy water was a good ten meters below her feet. Stoick gave her a sympathetic look, and a second later, the black dragon let go. The woman plummeted into the waves, waving her arms to keep her balance in the air. To her credit, she kept her legs together, toes pointed straight down, and entered the water with an enormous splash, throwing droplets across the bows of surrounding ships. A few seconds later she surfaced, treading water and swearing furiously.

A rope was handed up to Stoick, who tossed it into the water for her to grab hold. A few seconds later, another rope landed in the water, nearer to Astrid's position. It was being held on the other end by Snotlout and a few members of his crew. Astrid ignored the second line completely, kicking vigorously towards Stoick's rope, which she grabbed in a tight hold. He dragged her aboard, hand over hand, keeping an eye on the dragon rider, who had risen high above the ships, and out of range of the careful archers.

He reached into the water and dragged a coughing and spluttering Astrid over the gunnel and into the boat, where she lay for a moment, breathing deeply and scowling into the wooden planks.

"Keep an eye on him!" Stoick ordered, pointing up at the rider and his reptilian steed. They had caught an updraft, and were hanging there in the air, suspended against the wind, floating in an almost gentle fashion. Lars and his crew obeyed, keeping their bows pointed upwards, ready to fire at the first sign of hostility.

Stoick shrugged off his bearskin cloak and wrapped it tightly around Astrid, who had begun to shiver. Her braid had come undone with all the activity, and he brushed a clump of wet hair out of her eyes, thinking back to the days when he had treated his son the same way. He felt a burst of fatherly fondness for the young woman. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." She said, her voice shaky. "I'm fine. He saved my life, sir." She stared up at the distant figure with a look of curiosity.

Stoick helped her into a sitting position, and then rose to his feet. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Rider!" but the figure as already rising up and out of sight, drifting into a patch of clouds and vanishing. Stoick looked back down at Astrid.

The young woman was hugging her sides and shivering, his bearskin cloak was wrapped tightly around her, but already soaked, and the wind was picking up.

"Son of a bitch." She rocked back and forth, glaring furiously at the wooden deck. "Son of a bitch! I can't believe he just dropped me!"

The deck creaked as Stoick took a knee beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, lass? Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine, sir."

"What manner of Devil is he?" Stoick asked, glancing upwards. Most of the crew were keeping their eyes skyward, searching for the black silhouette.

She shook her head. "Not a demon. Just a man."

"Who is he? Did you see his face? Any clan markings?"

Astrid glanced up at him, looking pale and somehow lost. She stared into his eyes for a few seconds before hanging her head. "No." She said, her voice a strange monotone. "He kept his helmet on the whole time."

"Men riding dragons…" Stoick sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Ragnarok's coming, Astrid. What are we to do?"

"I'm sorry, sir." She said, her voice still colorless.

"For what?" Stoick frowned.

"I didn't know about the dragon. The big one." She looked up at him, "If I'd known that thing was in the mountain, I wouldn't have led us there. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Stop." Stoick gave her a gentle shake. "You meant the best for us. This wasn't your fault, lass. We're all alive to tell the tale."

Astrid shut her eyes and leaned back until her head thumped against the gunnel of the ship. "I married Snotlout for this… for nothing!" She snarled, thumping the deck with her fist.

"We'll get you home, Astrid, don't you worry." Stoick gave her a last pat on the shoulder and stood up, addressing both her, and the crew at large. "A hearty meal and a solid night's rest will work wonders for all of us, I think. We'll attack this again tomorrow."

"He's coming to Berk tomorrow" Astrid said, still seated against the side of the boat. Vikings across the length of the longship were pulling out oars, rowing for home.

"He told me. He said wants to talk to us." Astrid told him.

Stoick sighed and stared across the expanse of water at the distant island of Berk. His home, as it had been for three centuries of Vikings before him. It looked so very small from that distance. A tiny, fragile blip. A dark silhouette against the unending blue ocean. He wondered what kind of threat this new dragon rider posed, and how he could best protect his people.

Their arrival back on Berk was the single strangest return Stoick had ever experienced. The village had been ecstatic of course, but also confused. Their fleet had arrived back completely intact and with no casualties at all. Cause for celebration. Yet the moment the fleet actually docked, Berkians picked up on their warriors' gloomy looks and worried skyward glances. The thunderous cheering died away as Berk's returning fighters wound their way single file up the multiple ramps and into the village. From there they split up to greet their families and commiserate. Whispers began to spread through the village of that Jotun's hellspawn which lived in the mountain, and of the mysterious dragon rider who had followed them home.

As always, Stoick waited to make sure that he was the last off the boats, stepping off just behind Astrid. The young woman had fallen silent during the remainder of their trip. She was exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. Something was eating away at her, and Stoick wondered just what she had seen after the Nadder picked her up off that beach. Perhaps it was the dragon rider which had set her in this strange mood. After all, dragons and Vikings were mortal enemies, and whatever the man's motives were, he was certainly no friend to Berk.

Stoick led Astrid through the crowds, straight to the Hofferson Hall and the waiting arms of her mother and father. He gave them each a nod. "Brunhilda, Haldor."

"Stoick." "Chief."

At his shoulder, Astrid nodded to each of them. His bearskin cloak was still wrapped tightly around her.

"Astrid's had a long day." Stoick explained awkwardly. "So have we all, but I know mine's not over yet."

"I'm fine, Chief." Astrid insisted, for the millionth time, but Stoick saw the exhaustion in her movements, and the mysterious confusion in her eyes. She had worn that strange expression ever since the dragon rider had dropped her with the fleet. Stoick had caught her several times, staring at him in… pity? Worry? Consternation? Regardless, she was not acting as the stalwart, loyal warrior he had come to know, and it worried him.

He said, "I think what she needs now is rest, and affection. You know…" He nodded awkwardly at Brunhilda. "Motherly…stuff."

The woman crossed her thick arms and gave him a dry look. "I'll do my best."

"I'm fine, chief!" Astrid declared forcefully.

Stoick merely pointed at the open door to the Hofferson Hall. Astrid sighed and glared at him, but did not protest when her mother wrapped her in a tight embrace and guided her inside.

Brunhilda watched as her daughter shrugged off her soaking furs and retrieved a clean set of clothes. Astrid dried herself off and dressed in silence. The severity of her movements and the scowl on her young face suggested a storm inside her head.

Brunhilda had been terrified when she watched Berk's fleet sail for the nest a second time. She recalled the agony she had felt seeing the ships return without Astrid, and the relief of her daughter's miraculous reappearance. But those few days in between had been utter hell. Every time Berkians sailed fort the dragon's nest it resulted in tragedy. Watching Astrid walking up the gangplank again was among the hardest things Brunhilda had ever done. There was no way, she felt, that the Gods would let her daughter get that lucky twice, and merely seeing her alive and once again standing in Hofferson hall was a victory worth celebrating.

Yet Astrid clearly felt differently, from the way she violently rolled her soaked tunic into a ball and threw it near the fire. Something was off. Not just in the fleet's strange return, but with Astrid herself.

"What happened out there, Astrid?" she asked carefully. "I hear you made it to the nest. For the first time in histo-"

"My plan failed."

"What do you mean?" Brunhilda had heard the whispers and strange tales which spread from the returning fleet. "You reached the nest, yes?"

"Yeah. But there's a giant dragon living there. We can't beat it, mum." Her daughter bent down and picked up her axe from the low bed she had rested it on. Astrid's eyes glinted in the firelight reflected from the cold steel blade. "We barely got away with our lives. Berk is finished. The Viking Way won't cut it anymore. It won't solve our problems."

"Where are you getting this from, dear?" Brunhilda asked, gently moving closer.

"Today I… I met a man who rides dragons." Astrid met her mother's gaze. "For twenty years I've been learning every way to kill the beasts and it turns out our solution all along was to just make friends with them."

"You feel like you've wasted your time?" Brunhilda slid a hand over her daughter's tense shoulders, and began to rub in comforting circles. A man who rode dragons? It sounded far-fetched. Fanciful. Brunhilda would have worried her daughter was ill, if not for the fact she had heard the story already from several sailors. A man, in black armour, riding a night fury…

"If people can ride dragons. Everything we know is wrong." Astrid said, looking back down at her axe. "Everything… everything Uncle Finn taught me …"

"Oh, Astrid!" Brunhilda pulled her daughter into a tight hug. She found Astrid's ear and whispered, "Finn taught you far more about being a Viking than how to fight dragons. You're strong, proud, and more stubborn than a Gronckle. You have a good heart, Astrid. That's what my brother gave you."

Much to her dismay, Astrid remained limp in her arms, her axe hanging at her side. "The Rider is coming back to Berk tomorrow. This is the breaking point. The end of the road. I know it is."

"We've weathered a lot of storms."

"Not like this." Astrid shook her head. "Nothing like what's coming. Everything's going to change. It has to. We have to."

"Why?"

"Because we can't beat them, mum." Astrid said quietly. "That giant monster at the nest was too big. We can't hurt it. Not with axes and swords and arrows. But his dragon wounded it. We can't fight Dragons the Viking way anymore. It won't work."

"All storms pass." Brunhilda said soothingly. "The trick is to keep your head on your shoulders. Don't let yourself get swept overboard."

"It's different."

Brunhilda was shaking her head. She took Astrid's hands in hers. "My daughter, listen to me. I've been alive a long time. This village has survived plagues, famines, droughts, earthquakes, hurricanes, Viking wars, and dragons. All in my lifetime. Whatever you think is coming, we'll survive it too. We're a hearty people."

But Astrid was shaking her head. "You don't understand. It's different this time, mum."

Brunhilda rolled her eyes. "How?"

"It's going to divide us."

"We've been divided before too, Astrid. You weren't yet born when Stoick and Alvin fought for the Chieftainship. A third of Berk left with Alvin."

Astrid sighed and threw up her hands. "I'm going out to train."

"Astrid!" Brunhilda protested. "Astrid-"

But the door had already closed.

"Astrid's plan succeeded." Stoick announced to the crowd of curious Berkians. He was seated at his table in the great hall. Surrounding him were the heads of every major clan in the tribe, alongside the majority of those Vikings who had stayed behind. "Berk owes Astrid Hofferson a debt! Under my heir's leadership, we reached the nest. For the first time in our history, we set foot on the Dragon's own soil!"

This pronouncement was received to roaring cheers and thunderous applause. He raised his hands to settle the crowd. "However, while we were there, we encountered a new enemy. A king dragon. A child of Loki. My friends, we now know we can reach the dragon's shore. But our fight is far from over. We must build bigger war machines. Sharper blades. More powerful bows. Gobber!"

"Yes, Stoick?" The blacksmith asked sourly, emerging from the crowd.

"Starting tomorrow, I intend to put ten men at your disposal. They will help you build bigger catapults, and more razorwire nets."

The crowd cheered again.

"This is all well and good, Chief, but what of the Dragon Rider?" Slagfid Saemingrson asked. He was a valued warrior, as able on the barricades of Berk as he was on the high seas. He was also a close ally of the Haddock clan, and always had been.

The crowd fell silent, and a hundred curious faces watched Stoick with rapt attention. Stoick sighed and leaned back against his throne. "I'm sure you've all heard the stories. Yes, we …encountered… a man who rode a Night Fury."

"Encountered?" An older Viking warrior Bjorn Barrason laughed. "He saved the fleet. That Jotun would have burned us all if not for him."

"We are Vikings!" Stoick bellowed, silencing the man. "It is true it would have been a hard fight, and perhaps the rider did us a favor by letting us regroup, but Rider or not, we would have given as good as we got. Perhaps it was the Jotun who got lucky we decided to retreat."

At this pronouncement, those in the crowd who had stayed behind cheered. Those who had seen the giant beast looked skeptical, but under Stoick's glare they held their silence. Stoick knew that his declaration was patently false; the Vikings had barely escaped with their lives, and the giant would have burned the fleet in seconds if not for the rider's interference, but as chief, he couldn't let the village know what a disaster the whole trip had been. Not if they were to stick together and overcome the problems. He couldn't let them wallow in defeat. It had to feel like a victory.

Stoick said, "Tomorrow I plan to send Berk's sailors and tradesmen to Oswald the Agreeable. With his help, they are going make contact with the Rus. I want more weapons, and stronger armour. We will need it all if we are to kill this beast and rid ourselves of our dragon problem! The rest of us will redouble our efforts. We will stock more food, build more boats, and strengthen our defenses! If we are to win, we must be stronger than our enemies!"

"What of the dragon rider?" Halfgrim Hallkelson called out. The man had captained one of the fleet's ships.

"What of him?" Stoick responded aggressively.

"He's going to visit tomorrow."

"And when he lands we're going to kill him. Catch his beast in a razorwire net and let it chop itself to pieces."

"But… he helped us."

"We're Vikings! We don't need help! Do you really think a man who rides dragons is any friend of ours?" many in the crowd were thinking it over, but they looked uncomfortable. The Vikings who had seen the rider's rescue first hand were shaking their heads. Too many of them were warriors Stoick trusted and needed. He said, "Just because the Rider fought with that Jotun, does not mean he intended to help us. We don't know who he is, or why he did what he did, but I don't want a damned Night Fury running around my village!"

Fishlegs leaned forward. "I agree with you, Stoick."

"Thank you, Fishlegs."

"It's certainly a risk." The young poet continued. "And we shouldn't let that dragon anywhere near the village. But if the man saved us, then perhaps we should we give him a day, chief? Just to find out what he wants. His monster can stay in the forest where it belongs."

This suggestion was received to general approval.

"And if it gets within a stone's throw of the village, we'll kill them both." Stoick replied. "A good suggestion, Fishlegs."

Fishlegs preened. "Thank you, Chief. I'm here to serve."

"If that is settled, we'll move on to other matters…" Stoick leaned forward and planted both hands on the table. "What is the state of the village? Are the stores stocked? Are our quivers full? Have we repaired the damage from the last raid?"

Astrid found Hiccup waiting in the Cove. He was lying on the riverbank, head and shoulders propped against Toothless' flank. The sun was beating down rather hard, having peaked about half an hour before. The surface of the water sparkled and shimmered before them as they dozed.

Stormfly was there too, and she shot to her feet as Astrid entered the stone-walled clearing. She chirruped happily and stomped over, the noise rousing the other two, though neither of them got up.

Astrid greeted Stormfly first, scratching her chin and rubbing her flanks. The Nadder responded in kind, nuzzling her and sniffing at her hair.

"Hey, girl." Astrid cooed, smiling indulgently and wrapping her arms around Stormfly's neck. She tried to steal a small amount of comfort from her dragon's warmth and cheerfulness. Sensing something was off, Stormfly stepped back and cocked her head. She chirped curiously, and nudged Astrid's shoulder.

Astrid patted Stormfly again and stepped past her, walking over to Hiccup and Toothless. There was something about the way the sleek black dragon had wound himself around his rider, forming a protective ring, from head to tail.

Hiccup had loosened the straps of his armour and beneath it Astrid could see a sweat-soaked red tunic. The young man's eyes were puffy and slightly redder than usual, and he moved with the same lethargy that had descended upon Astrid the moment she looked Stoick in the eye and held her tongue.

"Hi Astrid." Hiccup smiled up at her, though it lacked his usual snarky flair. She sank to the sand beside him, and felt Stormfly sit down heavily behind her. In no time, she was lying against her dragon's side, mirroring Hiccup's arrangement. They both stared up at the sky, watching clouds slowly drift past and listening to the trickling water and the wind rustling through the forest.

She said, "I hate this."

"I know. You said."

"No, I mean... not just being dropped in the ocean." She stared up at a passing cloud. "I lied to my chief. I looked him right in the face and lied to him about you. I don't like that. I don't like being a traitor."

A few seconds of silence passed.

"When did he get gray hair?" Hiccup's voice floated in, a little more shaky than usual.

Astrid's brow wrinkled as she examined the fluffy white shapes hanging so high above her head. The same ones she had been soaring through that very morning. "What?"

"My dad. His beard was going gray. When did that start? It was red when I left."

She shrugged slowly. "I dunno. A little after you died, I think."

Hiccup took a sudden breath. Short and deep, it was practically a gasp. He let it out slowly. It was such a strange noise that she glanced down at him. He was staring wide-eyed at the blue expanse above their heads. He was blinking more often than usual, and his mouth was open. He gasped again, and a cold shock slid down Astrid's spine as she realized why his eyes were puffy and red; he had been crying.

She leaned back against Stormfly and looked back at the sky, giving him the dignity of a little privacy.

He said, "That's the first time I saw him since I left, and…"

"That can't have been easy."

"I didn't expect it to be easy, but it wasn't supposed to be that hard, either. I don't know what I thought would happen when I saw him."

"You're going to have to do it again tomorrow. For a lot longer."

A wispy cloud passed overhead, carried on a gust of wind.

Astrid shifted, propping herself up until she could properly see him, lying as he was against Toothless' flank. The young man was still staring at the sky, brows furrowed and sorrowful. She said, "You know you're going to make an enemy of him, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"…yeah. Thanks." Hiccup frowned and sat up, scooting back until he was sitting upright, slouched against Toothless with his knees bent. He scooped up a palm-sized rock from between his feet and tossed it into the sparkling pond, where it landed with a quiet sploosh. The ripples spread out and lapped at the sandy shore. "Why do you think you're a traitor, Astrid?"

Astrid sighed and stared down at her own feet. "I realized that if I help you, my culture dies."

"How do you mean?"

"Our legends are about killing dragons. Our weapons are made to kill dragons. Our people are trained to kill dragons. We're a society of dragon killers! It's in our bones!"

"Yakshit."

Astrid raised her eyebrows, taken aback at the strength of his response. Hiccup looked equally as shocked at his own nerve, and he elaborated before her surprise could transform into indignation. "I know what a dying civilization looks like, Astrid, and this isn't it. Berk has been killing dragons to survive, but if you find a better way, nothing's getting destroyed. You're just adapting. Growing …Learning."

"I guess."

He gave her a serious look. "What is it about fighting dragons that you're afraid of losing, exactly? Digging graves?"

"No."

"The constant fear?"

"No."

He cracked a smile. "The night watches?"

"I could do without those too." She admitted.

"Constantly rebuilding the same burnt houses? I bet that part never gets old."

"Shut up."

"Well?" his wry grin had returned, and Astrid realized she was grinning too. At that moment, sitting on the sunlit bank with the babbling brook beside her and Stormfly at her back, the horror and fear of the dragon attacks felt so far away that she didn't mind him joking. She marveled at how easily he had turned the conversation on its own head.

"I've been training to kill them for my entire life. It's what I'm used to. It's what I know."

"She said while using one as a pillow."

Astrid scowled and tossed a pebble at his head. "Shut up!"

What Astrid, Hiccup, and Toothless did in the opening of this chapter was actually quite dangerous. Water doesn't compress when you hit it, and if you enter it the wrong way, you might as well be hitting concrete for all the damage it's going to do you. I had the privilege of traveling through Australia a while back, but I actually watched a friend break her back jumping off the top of an eight meter tall waterfall. Jumping into water is a serious matter, so stay safe, kids.

And how about RTTE. Hugely awesome, no? I love Tuffnut, and they basically let the voice actor run wild for that entire season. My god it's glorious.

The Chicken is Not Amused.