This one is for you, Pawpaw. I know you didn't know what fanfiction is, but you knew I loved to write, and you were always so proud of me for that. You would've been so proud of how much I have written over the years. I love you, Pawpaw. RIP 3

TW: discussion of suicidal thoughts/attempted suicide, PTSD

Eirson bolted out of the room just as quickly as he had run in. If Argo was telling the truth, then Eirson wanted him out of that cell as soon as possible. But was that one bit of proof enough to convince Eirson that he was innocent? The more he listened to Argo weave his story, the more Eirson was inclined to believe him. It wasn't hard to believe that Boyra was a maniac, that wasn't enough proof. But if he really was trying to save some of the Outcasts…

"Eir! Wait!"

He heard Zephyr jogging behind him to catch up, but he didn't stop. He needed to get back to the Great Hall. He didn't have a clue what he was going to do when he got there, but he knew that was where he needed to be at least.

Zephyr caught up to him and breathlessly asked, "Wait, I don't get it, why is it a bad thing that he's telling the truth?"

If he even is telling the truth. He made a few frustrated sounds before admitting, "Well, it's not, if he is."

"Okay, so why are you acting like it is?"

Yeah, Eirson? What's the matter? Just release the wolf into the flock of sheep. What could go wrong?

His hands curled into fists at the darkness speaking through his thoughts again. Get the fuck out of my head already!

He nearly growled through a sigh, trying his best to keep his frustrations in check. "I don't know, Zephyr. Killing the bastard would've been a hell of a lot easier."

"How is killing someone ever easier than letting them live?"

He stopped abruptly and turned towards her. "Because now there's a legitimate chance he's not lying, so killing him would be wrong. But I don't have proof that he's telling the truth. What if he's just a really good actor? What if he's just wearing us down until we trust him so he can escape and report back? What if he's just waiting for the opportunity to get word out to Boyra?"

"You said it yourself that you think he's telling the truth. I mean, he came to you. Voluntarily. With information. About Boyra. He even knew it would put him in danger! He knew he would put a target on his back, but he came to you anyway!"

Yeah, dumbass, didn't you think about that? This is why she's already a better Chief than you'd ever be. Maybe if the Outcasts had Zephyr then more of them would still be alive. Maybe she could've saved Alvin.

His rage boiled over, and this time he couldn't stamp it back. "Don't be naive, Zephyr, it could've just been a ploy to gain my trust."

Zephyr recoiled. "Excuse me?"

Careful now, Eirson, she's all you got left. You're doing a great job keeping that flame alive, aren't you?

Eirson could practically see the sneer emerging from the darkness before his eyes. His fists tightened until he felt the warmth of blood seeping out beneath his fingernails.

Trust, such a funny thing, isn't it? Alvin trusted that the big mysterious ship wasn't a problem. He trusted that the Wingmaiden news could wait until morning. You knew, though, didn't you? You tried to tell him. But you didn't have the nerve to make him listen. You trusted his judgment. You let him lull you into a false sense of security. And now Argo is doing the exact same thing.

"Some people are just trying to use you. Life isn't so black and white. You can't be so trusting all the time, that's how you get people killed."

Snap. Thwick. Augh-

STOP!

Eirson covered his face with his hands, trying to compose himself. He pushed his hands over his head, brushing his hair out of his face and trying to push the darkness back with it. He clasped them behind his head and tried to breathe, trying just about anything he could think of to find himself again buried in the rage and frustrations and fear and anger and darkness and -

"Well I guess I'll leave you to it, then. Wouldn't want my naivety to get in the way."

Apparently Zephyr shouldn't have trusted you, either.

Eirson opened his eyes just before Zephyr turned, soon enough to see the heartbreaking hurt in her eyes. He felt his stomach drop. Of all the people that could say words like those to her, Eirson was probably one of the worst. He didn't need to see how hurt she was to know that.

She turned her back to him and started walking towards home without another word.

"Zephyr, no, wait, that's not-"

"It's fine, Eirson." She didn't turn around or stop, she just called the words over her shoulder. "Just go take care of Halvor. I…" She slowed as if she debated turning around, and Eirson took a step towards her. But then she shook her head and started walking away again. "Just go see Halvor."

He was frozen in place as if the island itself had grown around his feet. His body ached to follow her, to wrap his arms around her and tell her he didn't mean it, he didn't mean to hurt her-

You think she wants you right now? You blew it, buddy. Look at her, she's practically running away from you. Stay here or follow her, you lose either way. Just like you always do.

He forced his chest to pull in a deep breath through the aching in his heart. Just like that, her guard was up again like it had been the first time they met on Old Berk. Just like that, he may as well have destroyed all the trust and comfort he had worked so hard to forge between them.

Poor Zephyr. She's got enough going on already without you breaking her heart. And after everything she's done for you, it's such a shame. She saves your life, and you mock her in return. Why don't you mock her some more and jump off that cliff again?

I SAID GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!

Eirson swung his fist and made contact with a nearby tree trunk, stifling a cry when the rough bark splintered under his skin. He felt the muscles in his arm strain under the sudden impact. The burst of pain in his shoulder and hand couldn't have been good, either. He pulled his hand from the blood stained bark and cradled it to his chest.

That was cute.

Eirson groaned. The pain in his arm was fading, but his shoulder still ached. He looked down at his hand and found bloody knuckles. Even though he couldn't tell if the skin beneath the blood was discoloring yet, it definitely felt broken.

All he wanted was Zephyr. She was the only thing that kept him grounded. Without her, he felt like he was falling through the air in the middle of the ocean, nothing to break his fall but the icy water below. He was so out of control he didn't know where the old him used to be.

That's what Zephyr always called it. The "Old Eirson." Eirson wasn't sure there was a difference anymore. Or, at least, he wasn't sure "Old Eirson" was still around.

But after how he just treated her he didn't feel like he could follow her home and ask her to do whatever she did that always calmed him down. He had to face this one without her. So right now, as much as it pained him to admit, Eirson needed to go see Halvor. And he needed to give Zephyr her space. Both of which he felt physically ill about.

One problem at a time.

Eirson took one more deep breath, turned around, and pushed his body to the Great Hall. Perhaps it was the gut-wrenching guilt that was pounding away in his head, but for once the darkness was quiet, almost subdued. Eirson felt like he could think clearly for the first time today. So he needed to make a decision before the fucker came back.

He couldn't ignore the fact that Halvor/Argo had a lot of factors working against him. But he also couldn't ignore the fact that Zephyr had a good point - if he really was guilty, why would he voluntarily expose himself and risk captivity? And the way he still seemed to trust Eirson's every decision… Eirson's gut was telling him to trust him. But something was holding him back.

You know what's stopping you. Argo killed your father.

Eirson flinched. Guess the fucker came back.

He said he was Boyra's Archipelagic advisor, didn't he? So how do you think Boyra ended up on Outcast Island?

Eirson grit his teeth. No, stop making assumptions. Dammit, you're better than this!

As Eirson stalked down the dark corridor, he decided what he needed to do, and he was determined not to let his mind talk him out of it. He shut the dark voice out and focused instead on his instinct, doing all he could to summon the spirit - what was it his dad always called it? Hugr - of his father to help him through this afternoon. Once the jail cells were in sight, he saw Hiccup and Astrid leaving Halvor's cell. They quickly looked up at him once he pushed through the main door blocking off the corridor.

"Eirson, is everything alright?" Hiccup's voice had a hint of concern, which was mirrored in Astrid's eyes. Both of their eyes caught Eirson's bloodied hand at the same time.

"Yeah, everything's fine." Eirson took a deep breath as he stepped up to the pair, slipping his hand behind his back. He ignored the guilt that was gnawing at him as he thought back to Zephyr. Halvor first, then fix things with Zeph. He had to keep his mind clear, and worrying about her wasn't going to help him do that. "I'm going to need you to do something for me."

"Of course," Hiccup agreed without hesitation.

Eirson nodded and looked at Halvor's cell. "Lock me in with Halvor. Take the key with you. Come back to get me at supper time."

Hiccup and Astrid blinked at him.

"Are… Are you sure, Eirson?" Astrid was clearly uncomfortable with his request.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Hiccup hesitated. "I'm not sure that I'm-"

"Hiccup, please. I need you to do this for me. I…" Eirson dropped his head for a moment, found himself looking at the cell door, and then looking everywhere but the cell door. "I need to face this head on. And I need to not have a choice." He found himself looking at Astrid, as if he knew she would understand.

She carefully watched him, and Eirson hoped she could see the resolve in his eyes. At least he hoped the resolve was there to be seen.

Hiccup started to protest again, but Astrid put a hand on his shoulder, still watching Eirson. "Hiccup… This is his decision. His tribe."

Hiccup held his position for a moment longer before deflating with a quiet groan. "Fine, but I don't like this, I hope you know. I'm posting Snotlout to guard."

"The outer door. Not here. He'll be able to hear if anything goes wrong from out there."

Hiccup took a very deep, very long breath. "Alright, if that's what you want. I can work with that." His eyes flicked in the direction of Eirson's hand again. "Should, uh… Should I send for Tuffnut too?"

Eirson winced. "I'll… Go see him after."

Hiccup just watched Eirson, not sure what to say. Astrid didn't seem to know, either. After a while, Hiccup just slowly nodded his head. "Alright… Just Snotlout, then. Outer door. Just yell for him when you're ready to leave."

Eirson nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I'm the one locking you up." Hiccup unlocked the cell door and waved Eirson inside.

Eirson couldn't help smiling at the sarcastic quip. Nor could he help chuckling at the sarcastic salute Hiccup made through the bars. It almost helped suppress the shudder that ran down Eirson's spin at the metallic clanging of the lock.

But nothing could have stopped the memories that rushed back as Eirson turned to face the enemy in disguise. The screaming of his men, women, children, the tribespeople under his protection that he couldn't - that he didn't - save. The heavy weight of his father's hand on his shoulder as he entrusted what was left of the life Alvin had built from the ground up to his only son. The sea of eyes staring at him the moment his body crashed into the boat deck, awaiting his orders. As the memories crashed through his mind, one after another, battering against his resolve, Eirson started to realize that Halvor was the one in danger.

But he was better than that, he kept reminding himself. That's not what this was about. He was better than blind anger.

"No' done harassing me, then?"

Argo seemed oblivious to the turmoil battering Eirson from the inside out. His eyes were closed, body slumped against the wall and head lazily leaned back. He looked as exhausted as Eirson already felt.

Eirson slowly walked to stand on the wall directly across from him. "Nah, I'm not here to harass you."

Halvor didn't seem convinced. "Ah, I see. 'Good chief bad chief' routine then."

"No, not quite." Eirson groaned, using the wall for support as he lowered himself to the ground, carefully cradling his broken hand to his chest. Argo peaked through one eye, cautiously confused. Eirson rubbed the dirt off his hand on his pants and pulled his knees up in front of him, resting his arms on top. Argo eyed his bloody knuckles. "Hiccup doesn't know what I'm doing, actually. I just thought we'd talk. Man to man."

Argo opened both of his eyes now, distrust evident in them. Interestingly enough, Eirson thought it was an odd look to see on him - distrust. "Talk about what?"

Eirson shrugged. "Everything. Why don't you tell me about your life, Argo."

Argo flinched. After a moment of hesitation, he timidly said, "I ken ye don't owe me anything, but can I ask ye stop callin' me that?"

Eirson raised his eyebrows. "What, 'Argo'? I thought you said that's your real name."

"Aye, 'tis my given name. But there's a reason I didna wish to keep using it."

Eirson nodded. "Fair enough. I'll make you a deal, then. Tell me about your life, and why you want to leave your given name behind, and in return I will keep calling you Halvor. And no one else will know your real name outside of me, Zephyr, Hiccup, and Astrid. Assuming no else knows it already."

Halvor considered the offer while carefully watching Eirson. Eventually he nodded, if still a bit apprehensive. Perhaps it was the sight of Eirson's bloody knuckles. "Alright, where do ye want me to start?"

"The beginning. Tell me everything."

By the time Eirson walked out of the Great Hall, the world outside was already bathed in darkness. Most of the village was already in the Hall, warming up and eating the communal meal courtesy of Runa Hofferson and her team of helpers. But Eirson had other, much more important issues to attend to.

Hiccup and Astrid had come together to relieve Snotlout and free Eirson. He wanted to run straight to Zephyr, but Astrid insisted that she was fine, still back at home and keeping busy. Astrid also insisted he see Tuffnut first to set his hand, and that Zephyr needed a little more time. So as much as Eirson objected, he found himself sitting in Tuffnut's Healing Hut, bracing against the pain of splinting his hand and getting interrogated, both by Tuffnut himself.

Tuffnut's eyes were burning a hole into Eirson's head. And yet he couldn't help but be impressed at how expertly he could splint a hand without actually looking at it.

"So, do you want to tell me what you punched?"

Eirson shrugged. "Not particularly."

"Thought so. So what did you punch?"

"How do you know it was something and not someone?"

Tuffnut raised his eyebrows. "Was I wrong?"

Eirson looked Tuffnut in the eye for a moment before sighing and admitting, "No, it was a tree."

Tuffnut nodded. "Punching someone wouldn't have torn up your skin this much. And, if I'm being honest, I don't think you have it in you to punch a person. Not without some serious provoking, at least. And if that was the case then I'd be splinting your hand and splinting someone else's whole body."

Eirson scoffed.

He could feel Tuffnut eyeing him. "Wanna tell me why you punched a tree?"

"No, thank you, I'm good."

Tuffnut nodded. "Was it the same reason you jumped off that cliff last night?"

Haha! He's got you dead to rights!

Eirson flinched.

Tuffnut nodded, but he grew more somber. For once, he was quiet.

The guilt in Eirson's chest was getting more and more overwhelming. "That… That was a mistake."

He knew he said the words, but the voice that said them sounded so foreign to him. Quiet, soft, almost timid. Afraid.

Tuffnut's hands paused, and he looked Eirson up and down. He felt like he needed to defend himself, but he couldn't find the words. Tuffnut quietly finished splinting his hand, tied off the cloth wrapping, and leaned back in his chair. "Listen, Eirson…"

"If you're about to lecture me, you can save your breath. Zephyr already did."

Tuffnut chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure. I know my niece very well. She doesn't hold much back. And she acts much older than she is." He felt Tuffnut's eyes on him again. "I think that's something you two have in common. Forgetting just how young you are."

Eirson was very interested in the floor directly around his feet. "I'm the Chief now. I can't be the little kid following Dad around anymore."

Tuffnut quietly sighed. "Look," he started again, voice quiet and more gentle. "My point is, you're not the first person I've known to try to take his own life before the gods called for them. But you are the youngest. And, if I'm being honest, I don't want that for you. And I really hope you get to a point where you don't want that for yourself, either." Tuffnut shrugged, smiling slyly. "I've got a good feeling Zephyr agrees with me, too."

Eirson chuckled. "Ah, I see. Just trying to save your niece from some heartbreak, huh?"

"I am a protective uncle," Tuffnut laughed. "I love Zephyr, just like I love all my nieces and nephews. But, seriously - and I don't get serious often, mind you - I've seen how you are when everyone is looking. You're figuring out how to be a chief, you're sorting through the things you've experienced, you're forging new relationships and building a new home, and that's all great. But when all the doors close, and you find yourself alone, and you can let down your guard, sometimes a whole different person takes over. And that version of you is the one I am seriously worried about."

Again, Eirson wanted to defend himself, but he had nothing to say.

"Talk to Hiccup about it. If anyone understands even a little bit of what you're going through, it'd be him."

Eirson rolled his eyes. "Trust me, Zephyr-"

"-has told you the same thing a thousand times as well, I'm sure. She may act older than she is, but she's still a smart girl."

Eirson nodded slowly. "She really is."

His heart begged for him to see her. His body ached to hold her. His mind cried out to hear her voice telling him that everything was going to be okay, that he did the right thing.

Tuffnut's voice broke through the haze. "Come back in a few days so I can take a look at your hand again."

Eirson nodded.

"And, Eirson?"

He looked up out of habit, his mind still with Zephyr.

Tuffnut started to speak, pursed his lips, and then tried again. "I may not be as skilled at healing the mind as I am the body, but I try my best when I need to. You're a good man. And I mean it when I say I don't want to have to light a boat for you. Not because of my niece, but because you don't deserve that kind of end. You deserve to live a long and happy life surrounded by people who love you, and you have a very real chance of finding that. So I am begging you, the next time you're thinking about the edge of a cliff, or the point of a knife, or the bitter taste of poison, or whatever else your mind taunts you with… I beg you to find someone. Go to Zephyr, come get me, I don't care. But don't isolate yourself. Alright?"

Eirson slowly nodded his head again, and Tuffnut nodded towards the door to let him know he could leave if he wanted to. He didn't have to say it, but Eirson knew Tuffnut would have let him stay if he felt the need as well. But Eirson wanted to see Zephyr, so he stood and made his way out the door and down the path leading to the Haddock home. But the genuinely concerned look in Tuffnut's eyes stayed with him, and his words echoed in the back of his mind. I don't want to have to light a boat for you. You don't deserve that kind of end. I beg you to find someone. Don't isolate yourself.

I don't want to have to light a boat for you.

Thwick.

Snap. Thwick.

He flinched. He had lit so many pyres already.

Snap. Thwick.

Snap. Thwick.

Snap. Thwick.

And yet the one flaming arrow that was most important to him he'd never get the chance to shoot.

Snap. Thwick. Augh.

Snap. Thwick. Augh.

"You don't deserve that kind of end," Tuffnut had told him.

Snap. Thwick. Augh.

Snap. Thwick. Augh.

Neither did any of them.

Snap. Thwick. Augh.

Snap. Thwick. Augh.

Especially not his father.

Snap. Thwick. Augh. Shhhhh. Thud.

Snap. Thwick. Augh. Shhhhh. Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

THUD.

The door swung open, and Zephyr's annoyed face was suddenly in front of him. His good hand was raised, though he hadn't realized he was pounding on the door. Any anger in Zephyr's face washed away the minute she looked at him. "Gods, Eirson, you look like shit. Why are you so sweaty? Did you run here?"

Eirson blinked and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Sure enough, his hand was glistening when he pulled it away. "Uh… I guess I did." He didn't remember that either.

Zephyr reached for his other hand, but stopped when she saw the bandage. She eyed him again before gently wrapping her fingers around his wrist above the bandage,guiding him inside.

She sat him down by the hearth, in the same long chair they had fallen asleep in together after he'd finally broken down and relived The Battle of Outcast Island. He tried not to feel too guilty about always asking Zephyr to pick up the pieces of what used to be Eirson. He tried to convince himself that she meant it when she said she didn't mind.

Zephyr walked out of the room for a moment, and when she stepped away, Eirson noticed a basket of thread on the floor in front of the fire. A torn shirt was lying forgotten beside it, threaded needle and all. When Zephyr returned with a cup and a damp rag, he apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

"You didn't," she assured him without hesitation. "I was just mending some shirts to try to keep busy." She held out the cup to him, and Eirson could see it was filled with water.

He nodded and took it from her. "Thank you," he said, taking a sip.

She brushed his hair to the side and wiped down his face. He closed his eyes; the cool rag felt nice on his skin. "You've got dirt all over you," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "What happened?"

"Uh… I mean, I sat on the floor of a jail cell for a while."

The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. "Wow, you must have really made Dad mad if he locked you up. What'd he sentence you to? Three hours, hard time?"

Eirson chuckled, and Zephyr's smile came easier now. "Oh yeah, but I got an early release for good behavior."

"Oh, I see," Zephyr giggled and shook her head.

"Seriously though, I asked him to do it. He wasn't happy about it, but your mom convinced him to play along."

Zephyr paused. "Wait, you were serious?"

Eirson nodded.

Zephyr looked him up and down, and Eirson held up his hands in surrender. "I asked him to do it to force myself to take care of Halvor. If I was locked in the cell with him, then I couldn't run away from it. It wasn't doing me any good trying to think it through with just the information I already had."

Zephyr's eyes flicked to his bandaged hand and then back to his face. "So… Is that when… That happened?"

Eirson dropped his hands. "I didn't beat up Halvor, we just talked."

She cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes and pressing her lips into a hard line. As judgemental as the look was, Eirson couldn't help noting that it was quite cute. "Well, that's good to know, but that's not exactly what I asked."

Eirson considered telling another half truth, but he knew Zephyr well enough at this point to know that would only prolong the conversation while also annoying her. She was frustratingly stubborn that way. But he could still only bring himself to admit, "No, that's not when I hurt my hand. I hurt my hand before I went to see Halvor."

She raised her eyebrows. "What'd you do?"

He felt himself recoiling from her stare as he sheepishly admitted, "I… May have punched a tree…"

Zephyr blinked, as if processing what he said. He was waiting for a lecture, but she just sighed instead. "Okay, so what happened when you were locked up with Halvor?"

Eirson flinched. He had a feeling she would circle back to the tree issue but he wasn't going to push it. "Well… He told me about his past, about how he's ashamed of the life he's lived so far, especially the things that he's been involved in recently. He's… He really is just like all the other Outcasts. He wants to leave his old life behind, forget about Argo and the things that he's done. He thought he was going to die running from Boyra, but he didn't, so now he wants to help the Outcasts move on as a… Penance, I guess."

Zephyr nodded her head, carefully listening. "Do you believe him?"

Eirson took a deep breath. "I do."

"Do you trust him?"

Eirson pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "He… He saved my life, Zephyr. I have to try. I want to try."

"Good," she softly assured him, reaching out and brushing her fingers against his cheek. "That sounds much more like my Eirson."

He looked up and smiled at her. But as much as hearing the words "my Eirson" warmed his heart, his smile faltered quickly.

"So… What did the poor tree do to offend you?"

Eirson flinched.

Zephyr brushed his hair back again and gently took his good hand, patiently waiting for him to answer.

He managed to speak after a few painful seconds. "Dad… Dad would've taken him into the tribe. Halvor, I mean. Even after everything, if he were still here, he would've done it without a second thought."

Zephyr pondered her response for a moment. "Yeah, he probably would have. He was a good man, he just wanted people to have a home."

Eirson nodded slowly, eyes unable to focus on anything in particular. "You're right. Whenever someone came to our island looking for refuge, Dad let them in without question. He'd get right to finding them a permanent place to live. They would be considered an Outcast the minute their feet hit our soil. It was a chaotic way to run a tribe, and it's the reason Halvor was able to sneak in. We didn't recognize our own people all the time unless they did a lot of work alongside us. Nothing bad ever came from it, but it was only a matter of time. I tried to bring it up to Dad all the time, but he never saw anything wrong with it. 'Who would target a tribe full of outcasts? They kicked us out and we're not trying to get back,' he'd always say. It made him too relaxed. And it got him and a lot of other people killed."

He could still see the resolve in his father's face when he insisted there was nothing to worry about. They could wait until morning to consult the council. That large ship sailed past the island, it was already long gone…

"Odin help us," Alvin breathed. "I was wrong. I was so wrong."

He could still hear the ghosts of insane screams and pained cries in the distance. The fear and regret in his father's eyes still made his stomach turn.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, son. But you can do this. You've got your mother's hugr with ye. And I need you to preserve as much of this tribe as you can. They'll follow you. I know they will."

Well, he was right about that, Eirson had to admit. Yet another thing his father trusted in that Eirson never did.

"Make me proud, son."

The ghost of his father's arms crushing him to his chest for the last time still haunted him.

It was Zephyr carefully leaning over him that brought him back to reality. She didn't say a word as Eirson swallowed back the lump in his throat and found the strength to look her in the eye. She was carefully watching him, and once he looked up she reached up to wipe a tear from Eirson's cheek, leaving her palm against the side of his face.

He leaned into her hand. "I'm so sorry about what I said. I never meant to hurt you."

Zephyr smiled. "Eir… I knew you didn't mean it," she softly admitted.

"I still shouldn't have said it."

She made a soft noise that fell somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh and shook her head, still smiling. Her free hand rested against his other cheek and she leaned forward and softly kissed him. Eirson happily returned the gesture, letting the warmth of her touch chase away the cold chill the memories had left in his mind. As their lips brushed apart their foreheads rested against each other, and she gently swiped away another tear with her thumb. "It's okay, Eir. It's alright."

She leaned away enough to look into his eyes. Eirson lifted his hand to gently grasp one of her hands, both of which still hadn't left his cheeks. He turned his head to gently kiss her palm as she seemed to search for something in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand. "Your father would be so proud of you, you know."

He froze for a moment, seeing a flash of his father's face in his mind. Make me proud, son.

"How did you know?" He asked breathlessly with a smile, just to say something to fill the silence.

Zephyr shrugged. "Lucky guess, I suppose. Although, just to remind you, you were just talking about him too."

Eirson chuckled. "You're wiser than you give yourself credit for."

"And you're smarter than you give yourself credit for." She leaned over to kiss Eirson's forehead. When she straightened up again, she turned away, towards her sewing basket.

Eirson smiled. "Uh uh."

Zephyr raised an eyebrow at him, but before she could ask he swallowed her up in his arms and planted a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek as he pulled her into his lap. She dissolved into laughter and Eirson's heart skipped a beat. She wasted no time snuggling into his chest and sighed happily. "How did you know?" She teased.

He chuckled and hugged her tightly. "Lucky guess, I suppose."

She wrapped an arm around his back and laid her head on his chest. Eirson could already feel his body relaxing, letting the stress of the day drift off as he curled his body protectively around her. He pressed his lips into her hair, closing his eyes and breathing in her sweet, woody scent.

She reached up with her free arm and rested her hand on his chest, mindlessly sliding it up to squeeze his shoulder. Eirson suppressed a moan. Gods, he didn't realize how tight his shoulders were. She chuckled to herself. "I can't believe you convinced Dad to lock you in a cell with Halvor."

"He made Snotlout stand guard in case Halvor attacked me or something." He smiled and laid his head on top of her's, absentmindedly rubbing her back.

"Do you think he really would have?"

"Nah. Poor guy barely had it in him to lift his head by the time I got back there. Your parents must have really worked him over."

"Well, it is the most action Mom has seen since she found out she's pregnant. Dad won't let her train with the baby. She gets restless." She shook her head. "Poor Halvor."

Eirson found himself focused on nothing again. "Yeah… Poor Halvor…"

A moment passed before he felt Zephyr's hand on his cheek again, gently guiding him to look at her. "Hey. You made a good choice. Don't start to doubt yourself now. A chief stands by his decisions."

"Even the wrong ones?"

"No one said this was a wrong one."

"Yet," he finished for her.

She mildly glared at him. "Eirson..."

Eirson sighed and closed his eyes. He rested his forehead against Zephyr's. "I just… Zeph, they've been through so much… I can't let my tribe down again."

"You never let them down in the first place."

"Well then I don't want to start now."

She gently gripped his face in both of her hands. "You won't." She leaned in and softly kissed him, lingering until he wrapped his arms around her again. Even after their lips parted, they didn't move from that embrace. The minutes lazed past as they relished the seldom enjoyed moment of solitude, determined to steal every last second they could.

But quiet, happy moments were the perfect fuel for the raging darkness lurking in the back of his mind, biding its time.

She never would've been this close to you before. You try to off yourself and suddenly she's all over you. Such a fragile tie that must be.

Eirson tried to tell himself that wasn't true. They'd been growing closer every day since he came back to New Berk.

Oh yes, of course. After the raid. After your father died. After your life was ripped away from you.

Eirson flinched. He couldn't help but agree they never would have been this close before the raid. Eirson out of fear of scaring her away, and Zephyr out of fear of herself. And while he tried to remind himself that they had only just met, he still couldn't ignore the coincidental timing. He couldn't be happier they had moments like these behind closed doors, but that was what scared him; he was more terrified than ever that he would lose her now that he'd had a taste of what it felt like to hold her.

His eyes fell back to the basket of thread left forgotten on the floor in front of the hearth. He could see it so clearly, the image of Zephyr simply mending shirts by the fire. Just an ordinary, quiet, wonderfully domestic moment that somehow felt out of place and perfectly suited to Zephyr at the same time. His heart fluttered at the thought of walking into such a scene at the end of a long day, how right it would feel to hear her ask how his day went as he joined her next to the fire. His imagination danced through every room in the big house, dreaming up a simple life for the two of them. Idly chatting about village gossip as they prepared meals in the kitchen, playfully comparing their individual baskets as they sorted out the vegetable harvest in the pantry, quietly cherishing the simple presence of each other as they wind down in the main room. He longed for a day that he might sit her down in a chair in their bedroom, pull her hair out of the confines of her typical braid, and tame her fiery locks with his mother's hairbrush.

What would he do now if he lost it all before he had a chance to know that life?

She leaned back and sighed. "We should go get some food."

Convenient excuse.

Eirson was absolutely not hungry. "Yeah, I should probably make sure no one noticed anything with Halvor."

Zephyr paused, and although Eirson couldn't see her face, he could practically hear her raise her eyebrows before pressing, "After you eat, right?"

Eirson laughed quietly to himself and sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you." She rested her hand on the side of his face opposite of her and kissed his jaw.

He immediately felt guilty again. "I know, I know… It's not like you don't have a reason. I'm sorry about that, too."

"Stop apologizing. You're here, and you're trying. That's all that matters to me."

Eirson softly smiled and kissed her hair, holding her close. "Yes, ma'am."

Zephyr crawled out of Eirson's lap after a few more quiet minutes and a crestfallen sigh. She grabbed her furs from the chair while Eirson stood up as well, finding some comfort in the fact that she sounded disappointed to leave his embrace. They shuddered as they ventured out into the cold, and Eirson walked with his arm around Zephyr's shoulders in an attempt to shelter her from the wind. But the closer they got to the Great Hall, the more worried Eirson was about what would happen if too many eyes saw them too close. The last thing he wanted to do was create more problems for her to deal with, or give her more reasons to wonder whether or not he was worth the trouble. So as the Great Hall came into view, he reluctantly pulled his arm away.

Zephyr instantly noticed. "What, now you're afraid to get caught touching me?" She teased.

He tried to smile back. "I just don't want to make things worse for you."

She snorted, which made Eirson's smile come easier. "Sure, I'm certain the tribe would be absolutely devastated if their future Cheiftess found herself a boyfriend." She lifted the back of her hand to her forehead and continued sarcastically, "Oh, the horror!"

Eirson laughed, "Don't be so dramatic."

She shrugged, smiling and clearly proud of herself. "Hey, it got a laugh out of you. I'll count that as a win."

A wave of guilt crashed over him again.

How long will it take before she realizes she's tired of trying to fix you?

She took a step closer and gently elbowed him. "Hey. You're quiet again, what's wrong?"

He chuckled half-heartedly. "I've never exactly been the super talkative type, you know."

"No, this is the in-your-head quiet."

He looked down at her. "You know the difference?"

"I mean… Yeah, I guess. Kinda like how I can tell when you're doing that thing when you're stuck back on Outcast Island. Like you were doing earlier, in front of the fire. Right?"

She looked at him expectantly. He nodded. "Yeah, I was. I was thinking about the last things Dad said to me."

She nodded slowly. "You get that look in your eyes like you're not really here. Like you're looking through everything. You did it a lot those first few weeks after the attack."

They were nearly to the Great Hall's main doors, but Zephyr hooked her arm around Eirson's elbow to stop him. When he turned to her, she met his eyes intensely. "You barely had that look on you the last week or so. But since Halvor walked into council I don't think that look has really left. At all."

Eirson didn't know what to say. He knew she was right - she had to be, between fighting off the darkness and getting lost in his memories all day, he could barely remember anything outside of the interrogation and talking to Zephyr.

She interrupted his thoughts. "I'm not asking for an explanation. I just… I'm realizing more and more that I'm really scared to lose you. And I know you went through a lot of really difficult things and if there's anything that I can do to make things easier for you I just… I want you to know I'm here. And I… I really care about you." She blushed and looked away. "Even though I tried to keep you shut out at first. Back then, yeah, all I could think about was what the tribe would start to think if I let myself get close to you. I mean, people have been asking Dad when they would start looking for suitors for me for years now. But I don't care anymore. Their opinions about my life will never matter more to me than you do, not anymore."

Yet again Eirson was speechless. She had fully overwhelmed him now twice in the span of one day. It almost felt absurd how quickly the tides had turned, almost making him question the sincerity of her words. But how could she be lying? How could she fake the concern and care in her eyes? Eirson didn't want to be wrong either, to be frank. He was finally seeing the side of Zephyr he had wanted for so long, he wasn't about to let his fucked up brain ruin it now.

She bit her lip and looked to the ground. "Look, I… I know I kinda sprung all this on you a little last night, and I'm sorry about that. I'm sure you have a lot on your mind right now, and… And you're obviously hurting, or else you wouldn't have… You know…"

He reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear, and she smiled and looked up at him. "I just don't want to hurt you," he admitted.

"Well… Then don't leave me," she requested softly.

Leaving you would kill me for sure.

He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "I'll do my best."

"Promise?"

He nodded. "Promise."

She studied his eyes for another moment, and she seemed satisfied with what she saw. She nodded and smiled at him and carefully wrapped her fingers around his hand. "Is this okay, at least?"

He looked down at their hands and couldn't help smiling a little. He nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay then," she said with a smile. She gestured towards the Hall entrance with her head, and when Eirson nodded she started leading him that way.

Eirson bit his lip. "So… You're calling me your boyfriend now?"

He caught her smiling at the ground. "Um… Yeah, I uh, I guess I am." She looked up at him. "Is that okay?"

He chuckled. "What, do you think I'm gonna say 'no'?"

She giggled like a little girl. Just as they stepped up to the door, Eirson spun her into his chest, resting his hand on the small of her back and leaning in for a deep, long kiss. Zephyr slid her hand up and behind his neck, wrapping her fingers up in his hair. When they broke apart, Zephyr blinked a few times as if she was trying to clear her vision. She looked a little breathless, her cheeks flushed. He couldn't stop admiring how beautiful she looked.

She seemed to find her bearings again. She moved her hand from the nape of his neck to his cheek again, a gesture that was quickly becoming Eirson's favorite. "Are you ready?"

He kept his focus on her eyes, her touch, her smile. He slowly nodded.

She nodded back in encouragement. "You can do this. I'm right here with you. Okay?"

He nodded again. "Okay."

With a warm smile, she laced her fingers between his, lifted them to her lips for a gentle kiss, and pushed open the door to the Great Hall.

I'm right here with you.

He wanted to tell her everything, things he was sure she already knew and things he was sure she didn't. How broken he was, how he was afraid he'd never be the man she wanted him to be, how dizzying it was to try to digest everything that had happened in just the last two days, let alone the last year. He almost felt like he owed it to her to be that honest, especially after she had just poured out her own heart to him. But something in his chest - or his mind, way back in that dark corner, watching and waiting - wouldn't let him do it.

Instead, all the emotions from the day kept circling in his mind as the darkness repeated the phrases that cut the deepest.

You try to off yourself and suddenly she's all over you. Such a fragile tie that must be.

Apparently Zephyr shouldn't have trusted you.

Careful now, Eirson, she's all you got left. Losing her would kill you for sure.

But beneath the darkness, if he really dug down deep, if he tried his hardest to focus, he could recall Tuffnut's words.

I beg you to find someone. Don't isolate yourself.

You don't deserve that kind of end.