"This nest has been my home ever since," Valka said. "I've lived among them for twenty years, Hiccup, learning their language, learning their every secret. I…"

She trailed off, realising her son was no longer looking at her.

"I…see," Hiccup said, staring at the ground.

Valka found herself wishing to walk over and hug him. This was her son, the boy she had last seen when he was just a small babe! And to see how much he'd grown, and to hear of what all he had accomplished!

"I…need to think," Hiccup said suddenly. He blinked repeatedly, still not looking at her. "Come on, bud."

"Yes," Toothless crooned, his focus on Hiccup and Hiccup alone.

Hiccup rose to his full height. He then hurried to Toothless' side, moving with a slight limp. Was his stump hurting him again? He didn't normally limp, from what Valka had seen. She opened her mouth to say something, but words refused to come.

What could she possibly say? What was there even to say?

Hiccup vaulted into the saddle; Toothless then turned away and took wing, disappearing into the tunnels.

Valka exhaled, releasing a breath she hadn't even realised she was holding in.

Hiccup hadn't gone back to her cave, she noted. Clearly, he wanted to be alone…or alone with Toothless at least. That Night Fury was Hiccup's constant shadow, as close to him as Cloudjumper was to her…

Cloudjumper nosed her cheek; she leaned into it, her breath hitching.

"Dragon-In-Soul sad," he whimpered. "Dragon-Soul belong in dragon nest."

Valka looked to him, finding almost the exact same gentle expression that she'd seen on their fateful first meeting.

"Dragon-Soul do good for nest, he said. "Much good."

Valka nodded shakily. Then she froze, wondering where that had come from. Nodding for agreement was a human gesture, and not something to be done around dragons.

"I know," she began. "It's just...rrr."

Why was she still speaking Norse? Sure, Cloudjumper could understand it, but there was no need for it without Vikings around!

"This my nest," she said, and Cloudjumper purred. "But offspring hurting. Mate hurting. Much hurting."

"You hurting in human-nest," Cloudjumper crooned. "Heart hurting. Soul hurting. Dragon-Soul not belong with humans. Dragon-Soul belong with dragons."

He was right; she couldn't deny that. She dipped her head slightly, showing her agreement with a pathetic approximation of a purr.

She had been Hiccup's mother once. But she hadn't been his mother for almost twenty years. She'd been overjoyed when she'd first seen him again, and she'd entertained wild fantasies of exploring the skies with him as mother and son. But that had been nothing but a fool's dream, like the ones she'd entertained as a young girl, when she'd thought she could befriend dragons without needing to fight and without forsaking her tribe…

…and yet…Hiccup hadn't forsaken Berk. He'd changed Berk, and he'd stopped the war! Even stubborn old Stoick had a dragon now, thanks to Hiccup, and Gobber too!

Cloudjumper crooned wordlessly, nuzzling carefully against her head. Valka scratched his chin in response, swallowing hard.

For so many years, Valka had practically lived as a dragon. The dragons knew she was human but saw her as one of them, and so they had named her Dragon-in-Soul. She'd shared their food, spoken in their tongue, joined their hunts, with her past blessedly far from her mind. She'd fashioned armor for herself with discarded dragon scales, seeking to look more like her adoptive brethren. She'd made claws to fit over her hands. She'd even made a helmet in the likeness of her blessed King.

The nest had let her feel free. The nest had let her feel like a dragon. But now, her past had found her in her new home. And for the first time in years, Valka felt…human.

It was not a good feeling.

She felt like that girl all over again: that girl who had stood by while Sharptooth and Stoker were slain, who had let herself be pushed and pulled in every direction by the whims of her village, who had said nothing and done nothing even as she was set up to be wed.

"Come," Cloudjumper warbled. "We rest?"

She shook her head, shaking her thoughts away. Cloudjumper had been right there, and she'd been ignoring him!

"Yes. We rest," Valka crooned. Her human throat made the sounds far too harsh.

She got to her feet. Then, belatedly, she remembered her staff — that unique staff or her own making, which let her speak to dragons in ways beyond what her own voice could manage. She started back towards the cave that she and Cloudjumper shared, her dragon companion following behind.

But of course, their cave was not empty just then.

She saw Skullcrusher first. Stoick's dragon remained as he'd been before, curled protectively around his human. He eyed her warily as she came in, keeping pointedly still.

"No threat," Valka warbled as she approached, crouching low.

Skullcrusher snorted. His posture was alert but unthreatening, his mouth firmly closed. Thus, Valka let herself come closer, taking a peek at the human who lay hidden beyond: Stoick The Vast, Chief of Berk, the loving husband she had abandoned so many years ago. He was fast asleep and snoring, his head propped up on one of his blocks of ice. He looked downright peaceful — something that seemed a rarity for him, both then and now.

Valka could never recall seeing Stoick so vulnerable. He'd always had headaches, even back before they'd married, but not like this! She saw specks of grey in his beard too, illuminated by the torches still burning faintly around the cave.

He was getting old, she knew. Perhaps that would have happened less quickly, had she been…

She thought of all the times she'd forced herself to smile around him: the courtship, the wedding day, the wedding night, the days and months afterwards. He'd smiled around her in turn, and those smiles had been entirely genuine. He'd been so happy to be wed again — his first wife had died by dragonfire, years earlier — and he'd been just as happy to become a father, not even slightly living up to his name.

She hurried away quickly, putting herself behind Cloudjumper, who tracked her movements with a questioning expression.

"Not here," Valka said quietly. "We go?" she then asked, not quite managing a dragon's trill.

She and Cloudjumper would sleep somewhere else tonight. Her cave didn't feel like her cave, with reminders of Berk right there.

"We go," Cloudjumper agreed.

He crouched low, offering his back to her, and Valka quickly climbed on. He crept out towards the central nest area, before leaping into the air.


The King huffed, watching as Wings-Above-Clouds took flight with their dragon-souled human on his back. It was unusual for them to leave their cave at this time, and the King couldn't help but wonder why they had. But he sensed no wider disturbance, so it was nothing that demanded his urgent attention.

He laid down in his cool lake, allowing himself to doze.

As ever, the nest was peaceful at night. The waterfalls continued in their endless cascade, providing a steady supply of fresh water that was pleasant to his hearing. Most of the flock had returned to their caves to sleep, with just a few night-awake dragons being active. Those dragons knew better than to disturb the King's rest and were keeping their distance, but they also knew to rouse him if needed.

The King rumbled thoughtfully.

No-Teeth was of a night-awake species. But he was bonded to a human, who would be day-awake like the rest of his species. No-Teeth had been active all day, so perhaps he slept at night like humans did — how very strange! But then, No-Teeth was strange in many ways. He was downed and flightless, yet he flew fast and proud! He had challenged and slain his selfish and tyrannical alpha, yet he refused to be called alpha himself!

The King closed his eyes, sending his awareness out.

It was strange indeed, to have a Nightwing amongst them. Nightwing blasts were dangerous even to titans — the King had been lucky to be hurt so little — and to have one there felt like both a blessing and a curse. Dragon-In-Soul had vouched for No-Teeth, so the Nightwing could certainly be trusted. But it rankled to have such a dragon unaccounted for, so the King was eager to find him.

The King's awareness moved all around the nest. He located dragons of his flock one by one: Soars-through-Fire, Eats-Many-Rocks, Loudest-Roar, and so many others. A few that weren't asleep even noticed as he passed through them, and they dipped their heads in easy deference. A few others were missing, but all of those were night-awake and were probably out hunting, so nothing seemed amiss.

Then he found No-Teeth, and he looked out from No-Teeth's eyes.

No-Teeth lay on one of the high cliffs overlooking the lake. He was on his side and purring, his wings and limbs curled around his human companion. No-teeth was relaxed, and his human was gradually getting less tense, and—

No-Teeth started abruptly, looking around and scenting the air then—

No no no get out get out go away!

The King jolted, suddenly aware of his own body, and water crashed around him in the shallow lake. He looked up to No-Teeth's cliff; the Nightwing stared down accusingly from the edge, his teeth bared.

The King eyed him wearily. Then he dipped his head towards the water in apology, and the Nightwing withdrew.

The King rarely expressed deference. But he'd lingered longer than necessary, and No-Teeth was a strange dragon who distrusted alphas, so apologising made sense. The King would just need to be more discreet the next time around.

The King shut his eyes, sending out his awareness once more.

Within the nest, all was peaceful and well. Under his command, the nest had grown into a nest like no other, where dragons of so many kinds lived in harmony and where even injured flightless dragons had their place. It was a good safe nest that the King could be proud of.

It would be an even safer nest with a stronger, younger alpha.

The King's awareness moved beyond the nest, probing outward and outward, searching across the rolling ocean. He couldn't see as such, nor could he have sensed most dragons so far away. But even so, the King found was he was looking for, and he rumbled quietly.

Yes. There he was!

The King had sensed him out there for many moon-cycles now: a young bull of the King's own species, fit and in his prime, perfect to be the King's successor…and perfect to drive off the nearby very bad humans that Dragon-In-Soul had warned about.

But the young would-be-challenger was also clever. He had held off on challenging the King throughout those moon-cycles, even though the King could feel that he wanted to. Clearly he was biding his time, letting himself grow even stronger, refusing to attack before he was fully ready. Such wisdom was impressive and would serve him well within this nest.

The younger titan sensed the King, and the King felt his roar and his strength.

You!

Me, the king agreed.

You weak! I strong! I kill! I take!

His will and drive were downright mesmerising, and the King couldn't help but feel elated. Oh, to have such youth once again!

You nothing, the King replied. This nest mine. All mine.

The young one mentally roared in response. Mine! MINE!

But he wasn't moving, so the King withdrew.

The young one, it seemed, still wasn't coming to face him. But the King still had many season-cycles in him, so this was hardly urgent. Sooner or later, the young one would come, and then the King would fight him. That was the way.

The King would almost certainly be slain by his younger, fitter challenger. It would be a quick end, and a fitting end for a life well lived. That was the way.

The nest would live on, under the new stronger alpha's protection. That was the way.

The King quickly returned to his body and then allowed himself to rest. His successor clearly wasn't coming tonight. But there was always another day…


Drago Bludvist growled under his breath, his iron-clad ship rocking and shaking beneath him. Men shouted and ran like idiots around him, some even slipping and falling in the chaos. Roaring dragons rattled their chains and clawed at the air, picking up on the disturbance and adding to it in turn.

Drago grumbled, shaking his head. He'd been asleep, only for his blasted Bewilderbeast to act out and force him wide awake. Now he was on his feet and stalking across the deck, his missing arm on fire as it so often was, with an icy drizzle chilling him to his bones. And all the while, his men scrambled about like vermin while his dragons—

"Stop!" Drago roared, raising his billhook.

The dragons around him stilled and cowered, putting their noses to the floor.

Drago let out more roars, slamming his billhook repeatedly into the deck. "You weak! You nothing! Be quiet! Be still!"

Many of the dragons sank lower; some even whimpered. His men just stared, fear and awe dancing across their faces. And how could they not fear him, when he alone controlled the dragons?

To his men, those sounds had been wordless roars. To his men, dragons were simply beasts, incapable of language and incapable of higher thought.

"Idiots," Drago muttered, as he marched to a particularly heavy chain at the edge of the deck — a chain trailing down into the sea below. Then he struck the chain repeatedly, snarling and screaming all the while. "You weak! You stupid! You nothing! Stop! Stop now!"

And his chained Bewilderbeast indeed went still, like the weak-willed fool that it was.

The Bewilderbeast couldn't hear him from under the water. But the nearby dragons on the ship could hear him, and they were why he shouted. Those ones were bowing and shaking now, shocked to see their alpha insulted so openly. They were weak of mind and weak of heart, as people tended to be. They deserved to be ruled by the strong, just as with any weak thing. And no-one was stronger than Drago Bludvist.

He stomped off back to his quarters, leaving his men to pick up the pieces. They'd work long into the night, and Drago needn't oversee them. How could they not keep working, having been cowed by such a memorable display?

He returned to his private room, closing the door behind him. Only then did he throw off his cloak, remove the false arm that cloak had covered, and rub at his burning and cramping stump.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to make a sound. Sound travelled easily within the ship, and someone might hear him if he cried out, and Drago Bludvist would not show weakness! He had indeed been weak once, and his arm had been the price of that weakness. But Drago had learned his lesson, and he was weak no more.

He smirked to himself, rubbing his stump all the while.

Even he couldn't delay the attack much longer. If he wasn't careful, his Bewilderbeast might run out of patience altogether, and that would be no good at all. But preparations would be complete in days, and then his campaign would truly begin.

Soon, his Bewilderbeast would slay its rival, and Drago would take that ice-covered nest. And with so many dragons at Drago's command, his power would be truly unmatched. Because he who controlled an alpha controlled the dragons. And he who controlled dragons would rule the lands and the seas…