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There were dragons when I was a boy.

There was Magic when I was a girl.

There were great, grim, sky dragons that nested on the cliff tops like gigantic scary birds.

There was Magic in the wind that whipped past leaves, whispering spells of fortune.

Little, brown, scuttly dragons that hunted down the mice and rats in well-organized packs.

Magic deep in the seas, waiting for an unsuspecting life to give immortality.

Preposterously huge Sea Dragons that were twenty times as big as the Big Blue Whale.

Magic made of dragon’s spirits, to protect and watch over dragon’s that still roam the land.

Some say that they were bloodthirsty and vicious, always looking for their next victim.

Some say it is the spawn of Hel, with evil seeping from its very core.

And we will change that.

For the world does not see the dragons for what they really are.

The world does not yet see Magic for the beauty that it truly is.

That is why we will do whatever he have to make sure they are safe.

We will fight for the Dragons, and our Magic, until the world is ready.

We will protect them until our last dying breaths.

* * * * *

Saga wiped the drop of crimson from her eyebrow.The side of her head throbbed in pain from the sudden thwack it made against the wooden board. She swayed– the entire deck swayed, rhythmic waves gently rocking them to and fro.“I guess I miscalculated how far this thing extends.”She met her brother’s gaze with a glare. Wind tousled his tangled brown locks just as it whipped past her own ears, strong and sailing them Eastbound.“Your spyglass privileges have been revoked,” she said, snatching the cylindrical object from his hands. He dove for it, just as she predicted. She held him back with her forearm and held the spyglass out, just out of reach of his lanky limbs.What she had forgotten to calculate was the strength behind those arms. He merely had to tug her arm out of the way so that he could take it into his grasp. The spyglass, however, did not seem to like that plan. The second he grazed the thing, it slipped from both of their grasps.They froze, her arm still stuck out between the wood beams and his elbow still in the crook of her armpit. When the spyglass shattered against the deck below, they both flinched despite the anticipation.“Good going,” he winced, shoving her shoulder into the wooden board below them as he sat himself back up. The second she made eye contact with one of the sailors, she shot up as well. At least up in the birdsnest, she wasn’t able to hear their curses about having to clean up another broken object.They weren’t all her fault. Throwing an ax at the barrel of mead was her brother’s idea, she did not dare him to do it no matter what he said. Sailor Buforgden’s mace getting thrown overboard was neither of their faults, he was simply a hotheaded man suffering the consequences of his own actions. And yes, the crates falling over below deck was her fault, but does it count if it was her own belongings? Even so, she could tell that the sailors were tired of accompanying them on their journey.“Saga.”She jumped at the loud call of her name, especially out of Chief Oswald’s mouth. She peered down the birdseye, her eyes landing on his hands that were resting on his hips.Her brother peered over the edge of the birdseye for only a second before he lurched back. “Oh yeah, he looks upset. Good luck with that one.”“You too, Hexus.”With little hesitance, the two of them scurried down the ladder onto the deck of the ship. Saga nearly landed on shattered glass when she stepped down if it weren’t for Hex’s tug before she landed.“What’s the charge now, Chief?” Hex crossed his arms half-heartedly, having been through situations like this plenty before. Saga stood there quietly, arms crossed politely behind her back.“No charge. Though I do have a feeling that we are nearing our destination.” Chief Oswald looked out at the crystalline waves, shining like diamonds against the unusually clear skies. “It would be a lot easier to tell with my spyglass.”Saga went red in the face when Oswald gestured to the shattered glass of the spyglass at their feet. She was never a good liar, she wouldn’t have been able to hold up under questioning. As if either of them needed to be questioned.Oswald sighed. “You are lucky I have spares, and that I know this route by heart.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. Not surprised, not angry. “Another hour or so and we will be docking. You two should get cleaned up; it may not be a first impression, but you need to make a good one nonetheless.”Oswald’s eyes drifted to Hex during that statement. Saga couldn’t miss the way Hex pursed his lips before he nodded. The second he looked back up at Oswald, it was replaced with a cheeky smile. “Loud and clear, Chief.”Hex and Saga were able to walk below deck after they cleaned up their spyglass mess, and Oswald had not raised his voice one bit despite the tenseness in his shoulders or the curl in his lip. Saga was just thankful that it was only Oswald on the ship without his son. Apparently, he was too upset to board the ship and stayed back on Berserker Island. Saga didn’t mind his absence, not one bit. It made the trip through rocky waters far more smooth.Below deck was possibly the least fascinating part of the journey. Above deck, she could see the sea span out for miles, feel the rocking waves beneath her feet. But below, it was darkness lit by few candles, and her insides tossed around with every sway of the ship. Sea salt and mildewy wood smelled better than the quarters they walked past.They did not need to turn the corner into their quarters for their mother to notice them, as Ysolda was turning the corner before they could reach the doorframe. She could hear a pin drop from the other room, it was no surprise that she recognized her children’s footsteps.“Where have you been?” She spoke quietly, but as gravelly as it had always been. “We will be docking soon. You are supposed to be getting ready.”She looked half-ready herself, her hair still down in the dark frizzy curls that Saga had never once seen her cut away. Though the dress she wore was much finer than the ones she stuck with on the trip, forest green instead of the light brown she typically adorned. Finer clothes for a fine occasion, she had told them when she handed them their arrival clothes the day before. Fine occasion was not the right word Saga would use to describe such a thing as this.Ysolda took their hands and pulled them into the room, not giving them a chance to protest before she was petting down Hex’s scraggly curls and pulling Saga’s hair up and out of her face. Another second, and she was tossing their clothes onto their laps. Before they could blink, she was brushing her curls out with her back turned to them, completely absorbed in the mirror in front of her.That was how it was with Ysolda, especially when she was set on her schedule. Saga and Hex both learned early on in their childhood to keep up with her, no matter if that made them five minutes late or five hours early. That was how the two of them were dressed by the time that Ysolda was done with her hair, giving her time to throw a hairbrush at Hex and sit Saga down in a chair in front of her.It was part of Ysolda’s routine, Saga reminded herself. The forest green dress she wore in similar fashion to her mother’s, the braided bun Ysolda put her hair in, the golden jewelry she strung around her neck and hung from her ears. She would be back in her own clothes by nighttime.By night, she would be in bed. A bed made of freshly chopped wood, not decades-old oak. Blankets made from the fur of a bear, born when the yak whose fur made their old blankets died. It would smell of fresh wood, not of old books. A fresh bed, and a fresh start, her mother told her. A fresh start. “I don’t think green suits me,” Hex said, pulling on the sleeves of his green tunic.“You are my son. Of course green suits you,” Ysolda said. Green did in fact not suit him, but Saga decided to wait until later to point that out to him. “Let’s get above deck. The sailors need room to move our things.”Upon hearing that sentence, Saga felt relief wash over her. No more nauseously swaying deck, no more stench from such an enclosed space. She nearly bolted to the latch door, attempting her best at not tripping over her own skirts.The air chilled against her face as she stepped onto the deck. Late September, and yet it had slowly started to feel like Snoggletog the further they traveled. Saga expected such, as it was the first thing Ysolda warned her and her brother about.“Berk reaches the clouds.”Saga’s heart jumped as Hex’s voice appeared beside her. She glanced at him, but his eyes were glued to the ocean behind her.As she turned, she saw that he was right. Berk did reach the clouds, the wet heap of rock narrowed as it climbed higher into the sky, round and sharp and cutting a hole through the clouds surrounding it.And as if they had not just gone on a week long journey to this destination, everything finally sunk in.
It was my home, years ago. It can be yours, too.
She turned her head back toward her brother. He did not break his gaze from the island, though his previously stoic expression had slowly morphed into wrinkled brows. The fear behind his eyes, something he tried so hard to cover up, was slowly starting to show.Suddenly, he looked into her eyes. “Do you think that this will be different?”“Yes,” Saga responded. Of course it would be different.“A good different?”She froze. A million different ways it could go, a million different things she could say. The longer she stood silent, the more his face grew solemn.He wanted the truth, he always wanted the truth. But the truth… Ysolda walked between them, gently placing her hands on both of their shoulders. “Only if you make it good.”A sailor close to them shouted something to the others on the ship, something about steering the ship in another direction, Saga didn’t pay close enough attention. The latch door squeaked open again, Saga and Hex’s heads turning towards the noise nearly simultaneously.They watched as Chief Oswald climbed above deck, steadying himself and rolling up his sleeves as another sailor approached him. Something about porting, Saga had already grown used to ignoring the sailor talk around her over the course of her trip. Behind him, sailors came out carrying their belongings above deck.By the time they were all above deck, Berk was right in front of them, looming over the ship as they circled the coast. Saga couldn’t help but be captivated. The peak of the island was covered in light snow, but the forest below was lush dark green. Clouds broke around the top as they passed, gray and gloom.She didn’t listen to a word that came out her mother’s mouth as she spoke to Oswald about something concerning her return. Hex’s shoulder brushed hers, and she followed his gaze to the rocky cliffs that encircled the entire island. Waves crashed against the rocks, some jutted and some smooth. Parts of the cliffs stuck out more than others, one extending farther out than any other. They watched as the port came into view and the ship made a wide turn, straightward bound for the docks. This is it, Saga thought.
At least it looks interesting.
 — On the other side of the Berk, Hiccup was struggling to get himself out of the warm comfort of his bed. Today is not a good day for new arrivals, the boy thought somberly, pulling his pillow over his head to try to drown out Gobber’s booming voice downstairs. After the dragon raid the night before, teamed with a thunderstorm that he for sure thought ripped up a few trees in the forest, he was exhausted. But his father said that thunderstorms and dragon raids were not excuses to postpone arrivals, especially when the new villagers were already at sea, which Hiccup could understand. You couldn’t just turn a ship around and try another day.It wasn’t like he minded newcomers on Berk. In his fifteen years, not a single newcomer arrived on the island unless it was a newborn baby, so having new residents that weren’t screaming because of their full diaper and covered in their own drool wasn’t common. His father treated it like a momentous occasion, and if Hiccup was someone who could get excited for a new kind of newcomers coming to Berk for the first time in his life, then he would have treated it as such too.He might’ve been a little excited about their arrival if it weren’t for the whole moving from Berserker Island thing.
Berserker Island. Y’know, where the people are berserk?
Even then, it was a gamble. Chief Oswald was well-tempered and even gentle in a way, but his son was the opposite. Maniacal, violent, obnoxious– the list goes on. He told himself for weeks to trust the gamble, and to not automatically assume that whoever they were would be the worst of the bunch.Knowing it was better to get it over with than dwell on the inevitable, Hiccup shot up, not bothering to make his bed as he changed into clothes that smelled less damp and hurried down the stairs. He haphazardly pulled his fingers through the knots of his frizzy hair, giving up once he made his way to the door. He struggled to pull on his boots while his father waited outside and Gobber fixed his peg leg for the walk to the docks.The three left a mere second later, and the thoughts that had previously plagued Hiccup’s mind came back with a vengeance. He was informed about this arrival two weeks prior through Gobber one day in the forge. The two of them were swamped with the making of furniture for the house while his father had a crew start on building a house at the end of the village, right below the hill where his house stood.He had many questions about the three of them, but very few were actually answered. The little he got was that there were three of them, a family. A mother and two kids, and the only reason they were moving to Berk was because of the passing of the mother’s husband. He wasn’t sure if the children were his age, or younger, or older.Hiccup tried not to make assumptions about the family before meeting them. Really, he did. But one could say things about a psycho to make them look like a saint.The three made it to the docks as the ship turned into the port. They all waited in silence, and it seemed like that particular silence was only eating at Hiccup, eating and eating at him until he was just his bones and finally asked the question on his mind that no one had directly answered yet.“Hey dad,” Hiccup said, getting Stoick’s attention rather quickly. “They’re from Berserker Island, yeah? So doesn’t that make them a little… y’know…”Stoick beat him to the last word. “Berserk?”“Yes, exactly that.”The booming laugh that escaped Stoick nearly made Hiccup jump. “You need not worry. We’ve been at peace with the Berserkers for years.”
That’s not what I was talking about.
Stoick clapped him on the back in some sort of reassurance, lost before it had even reached Hiccup. The force nearly made him fall over, but he regained his footing quickly. His worries had fallen on deaf ears again, but could he be surprised? This was his father, after all.So, as always, he stood there and worried until the ship halted in the harbor, and the loading plank lowered. He told himself that it couldn’t be that bad. Maybe the children really were just children, and he had nothing to worry about.As long as he wasn’t Dagur, he would be fine. Dagur, or… Hiccup spotted dark green on the ship, clothes made of the finest fabric. Chief Oswald was the first to step onto the deck, barely a glance into their direction before he turned and extended his hand to the woman. Her hair was dark, a brown hue only visible when it shone in the sunlight. It was tied back into a braid that nearly reached her knees, a golden thread braided into it. There was only ever one woman from Berserker Island that wore her nobility like that, so it was such an odd coincidence.
Wait.
She turned her head, a small smile on her face outstretching farther as she met eyes with Gobber and Stoick. Hiccup recognized her immediately.
Oh, Thor.
Ysolda Magtire, the wife of Kadrin, Chief Oswald’s brother-in-arms. He was the one who passed. A high ranking council member and her… two children?He saw movement out of the corner of his eye from the loading plank, that scraggly brown hair he despised. Hexus freaking Magtire. Even from the side, he couldn’t miss the swoops in his tufts of brown hair and that stupid, beat up poncho.He looked up at his father, but he did not get a glance back. Ysolda had a rounder belly, yet Stoick had not mentioned her being with child. That must have been what he meant when he said two children, just as this being the exact reason he was so vague whenever Hiccup tried to ask questions. What are their names? Why are they choosing Berk? He was vague, because he knew that this was possibly the worst idea imaginable. Dagur’s best friend, living on the same island as the kids that scatter in the other direction by his presence? As far as he knew, Fishlegs was still having nightmares about the rotten cod that Dagur shoved down his throat because he couldn’t get out of the knots Hex tied to keep him held down.When he was finally able to wipe the look of betrayal off of his face, his eyes were back on the loading deck. Hex had turned halfway down the deck when he had been looking away, his hand placed on his hip. He was talking to someone, but Hiccup could not see anyone on the deck of the ship.Hex rolled his eyes before he stalked back up onto the ship–he was barefoot, to absolutely no one’s surprise–whilst Hiccup stood there, shocked. What in Odin’s name had he just seen? Did the guy believe in ghosts, or was he really just talking to nothing?So he is not only violent, but he is mental. Fantastic.“It’s finally the day, isn’t it?”He startled at the voice that rang out only feet away from him. He tore his gaze away from the ship, but neither his father or Gobber were next to him. Further down on the deck, Ysolda embraced them into hugs, which they took with grace. Dad never hugged anyone, Hiccup thought, not even me. “Welcome back, lass.” Stoick pulled away from the hug. “Your face shines bright despite it all. You have always been a strong one.”Her face did indeed shine. She smiled brightly, her eyes crinkled with how big it was. The smile was short lived, but her eyes never became dull.“How is he?” Stoick asked, his voice quieter than before, as if everything he had done was some sort of secret . A secret from who, Hiccup had no idea.“He will not bother another person on this island. I told him what you told me, he knows that time in the dungeon will follow whatever he starts.” Ysolda lifted her head just slightly, like she was confident with her answer. But after that display before, Hiccup was not confident about trusting it.He looked back at the loading dock seemingly just in time to see Hex appear again, two crates stacked on top of each other in his arms. But this time, a girl walked alongside him. She only carried one crate in her arms, and they both adorned the same forest green clothes that Ysolda wore.Hiccup furrowed his brow. As he peered closer, he found her black hair unrecognizable.“And there they are,” Gobber said, causing the other two to turn.Ysolda sighed and placed her hand on her hip, in the exact manner as Hex had done before. “Put those down, you two are not peasants.”“Even some peasants wear shoes,” Gobber commented, following it up quickly with a chuckle. Ysolda scoffed as she elbowed him in his side, but the amused smirk on her face did nothing to persuade.“No matter how hard I push, the boy is still stubborn. Maybe the cold will make him change his mind.”Hex set the crates down on the dock the moment he halted to a stop, the girl not far behind him. There he was, striding down the deck like he owned the place, that stupid half-smile he always had plastered to his face growing even more prominent as he approached.And yet, Hiccup didn’t find himself looking at him.She and Hex looked astronomically different. Hex’s eyes and hair were the same as his mother’s, as were nearly all of his features, from Hiccup’s memory. There was no doubt that he was her son. But that girl…In the years he spent his time around them, a daughter was never mentioned. She did not look much younger than Hex despite her short height, maybe around Hiccup’s age. He remembered Kadrin, it’s hard to forget the face of such a high ranking Berserker. This girl was not a Magtire.She hid behind Hex as they approached, Hiccup could only see her braid thrown over her shoulder. By the Gods, Hex looked atrocious. As if his poncho– his stupid beat up rag of a poncho –could cover the silk pants and tunic that bagged over his body. It looked like a potato sack with the way he slouched. Hiccup tried his best not to smile at the realization that Hex knew just as well as him how terrible he looked.“May Loki be playing tricks on me,” Gobber said, “you sprouted seven feet since I last saw ya!”Hex pursed his lips at the comment. “That’s the thing about growth spurts, they make you taller.” His eyes darted between Gobber and Stoick, before they ultimately landed on Hiccup. He tensed underneath the gaze, despite it being unreadable. “He looks overdue for one, though.”The moment Ysolda turned her head, her eyes lit up. He wished he could be confused as to why he was invisible until that moment, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.“Hiccup,” Ysolda said, as if he was a prize on display. She stepped past Stoick and Gobber until she was in front of him, her hands on her knees to further reach his height. “Oh, my. Your freckles grow more prominent with each passing year.”Hiccup stepped backwards. “Thank you?”Ysolda had lived on Berk for a time years ago, in which she had grown close with his mother. She never failed to mention how he looked like her, or how he acted similar sometimes. He wished that for once, she wouldn’t mention his hair color or his mannerisms. She was a kind woman, though, and she had never once been purposefully hurtful to him.“I assure you, there will be no problems. And if there are, you will tell me. Right?” Ysolda said as she stood straight again. His eyes widened as he was suddenly overwhelmed with gazes burning into him.It was thanks to Hex’s chortle behind her that the attention diverted. Ysolda turned, and Hiccup could only assume the look on her face was some sort of disgruntled.“What do you find funny?”“Nothing, nothing,” Hex said earnestly. He glanced behind her, and Hiccup froze under his gaze. “No problems. You’re not worth time in a cell.”“Exactly,” Ysolda said as she stepped toward him again. “We expect no trouble out of you.”Hex rolled his eyes as Ysolda ruffled his matted hair, only making the mess worse. She pulled at the hand clutched around Hex’s shirt sleeve, gently pulling the girl out from behind him.“It has been a few years, but I am sure you remember my daughter, Saga.”“Aye, I do.” Gobber nodded. “Never seen someone climb up a tree faster. Or jump down from that height without breaking a limb.” Saga. Hiccup remembered that name, sometimes said by Hex in passing. He never thought about it, because Hex never said she was his sister. He didn’t say she was anything, so Hiccup could only assume that she was one of his friends. She didn’t even look the part, how could she be his sister?“How are you, Saga?” Stoick said, though Hiccup was caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. Ysolda had to nudge her to get her to look up at him. Her height made her have to tilt her head, just like him.“I’m okay,” she mumbled with a slight shrug of her shoulders.“I know that this is all new to you. I will show you everywhere, and I promise that everyone here is kind and frankly, quite curious about your family’s arrival. There’s no doubt that this will be your new home rather quickly.”The conversation died out in Hiccup’s ears once Ysolda started speaking again. All he could focus on was the family in front of him, his brain fogged with confusion. It was hard enough having to process the fact that Hexus Magtire of all Berserker’s was now going to be living on his island, but now there was another Berserker whom he knew nothing about but her name. Was there a reason she never came to Berk? A worse version of Hex or Dagur, or a possible scandal?But then he remembered, he didn’t really care. If she was a Magtire, then she was a Magtire, and that meant he had to stay away. As far away as physically possible.That was why, once he became invisible to them yet again, he found his opportunity to slip away. Quickly and quietly, he slipped through openings between buildings and homes until he made it back to his own.He rushed inside and slammed the door. He had only been awake for maybe an hour, but somehow his life was turned upside. Hex was supposed to stay on Berserker Island, he was only supposed to endure his torment one day a year.He wanted to believe his father, he really wanted to believe that Hex would not act out again. But by tomorrow, he will reunite with Snotlout–Thor, Snotlout was probably the first person his father told outside of the Council–and it will happen all over again. He will join in on Snotlout’s games, and he will get away with it because it’s Snotlout. All Hex had to do was point his finger, and Snotlout would still get away with a slap on the wrist. Snotlout was out for his blood. Or his tears. Maybe he could hide under his blanket for the rest of his life? Or maybe he could hitch a ride in a barrel next time Johann was in the harbor? With daily scrutinizing, judging glares and disappointed words, he wanted nothing more than to disappear for the rest of his life.He was invisible enough, he could get away with it. Right? — “Welcome home.”When they stepped inside the house, they were in the living area, with a small oak table and three chairs in the corner. The right wall was lined with tables and an icebox, a makeshift kitchen on an island that normally had group meals. A rocking chair sat in front of a fireplace with freshly chopped wood laid on top of the mantle, and a wide hall laid to the left where three bedrooms were hidden behind oak doors.Hex looked up at the ceiling. “So no loft?”Stoick nodded, and Hex’s face lit up with a smile. Finally, finally he would get his own room. He hadn’t had his own room in ten years.“Take a minute to look around if you’d like. We didn’t think we’d need to make a nursery, since your room, Ysolda, is big enough to be one until Hex gets his own place. You’re turning eighteen soon, right son?” Stoick asked, setting down the crates next to the dining room table.Hex raised a brow. “My seventeenth birthday isn’t for another–”“Perfect. So once her child is old enough to have their own room, you’ll be moving out.”
Wow, okay. Harsh.
Sure, Hex had done a few things in the past while visiting Berk for the treaty signings. But he never directly did them himself. He wasn’t the one shoving rotten cod down someone’s throat, or lighting people’s hair on fire. He was just holding them down or lighting the matches. That had to count for something, right?Besides, he had no interest in continuing to do those kinds of things. The past was long behind him, and he'd rather not end up in a cell underground. With a new home came a new beginning, everything that happened before needed to be simply forgotten .“He will stay as long as he needs,” Ysolda intruded, placing a gentle hand between his shoulder blades.He shrugged off her touch as he busied himself with grabbing a crate of his belongings. “Shouldn’t be too long now. I am almost old enough to sail.”The look on Ysolda’s face changed, if only for a moment. Irritation, or maybe inevitable doom. She never told him he could, but it won’t be her choice once he turns eighteen. Just over a year away. Her baby would only be seven months old, not yet old enough to leave her bedroom in the first place.“Find yourself a bedroom,” Ysolda ordered. Hex wasted no time to start heading towards the hall, something that Saga had already seemed to do as she was nowhere in sight.The hall was short, consisting of two doors on both sides and one more door at the end. The door to the left was already open, he could hear Saga’s quiet shuffling coming from inside.When he peered inside, he saw a bed pushed up against the wall, underneath her window that looked out to the forest. Next to the head of the bed was a wardrobe. Against the wall next to the door was a desk and chair. It was overall simple and small, but Saga had not asked for much when asked the question of if she had wanted anything specific for her bedroom. Her back was turned to him, completely unaware of his presence in the doorway.“A forest view,” he said, breaking the silence. “I haven’t a clue why you chose this room. Hmm.”Saga turned to him with a roll of her eyes. Journals and parchment were scattered all around her, edges singed and spines charred. When it came to packing, there wasn’t much to pack. Most of Hex’s belongings were books that he hadn’t even stored at his own home, he never knew how grateful he would be for such a small choice in placement.“A village view,” Saga said, nodding her head towards the bedroom across the hall, its door just slightly ajar. “You get to have Berk citizens staring at you day in and day out. Excited?”“ Very, ” Hex responded. He glanced around the room again, slightly shadowed in the afternoon light. He had missed the shelf in the corner of the room until then. Her shelf. “So you didn’t even give me a chance before you took your choice in bedrooms? You could have been a little fair.”“Since when have we been fair?”“Good point.”Saga sifted through the crate, pulling back her hand to reveal three glass vials slipped between her fingers. Water sloshed around the petals inside as she flipped them into her palm and set them on the table. Her table.Her wardrobe, her walls, her window, her bedroom. No more “don’t set a foot past this line of dirty socks,” no more listening to her mumble to herself and that damn charcoal pencil scratching against parchment at the same time in the middle of the night. How he dreamed of getting his own room, it was the only thing he was looking forward to. He would no longer have to fight over shelf space, nor would Saga nag him for how messy his side of the table was. Charcoal pencils would no longer get crushed under his feet in the middle of the night, and Saga wouldn’t trip over the shoes he never wore. Finally, his own space.When he finally opened the door and dragged his crate inside, he finally looked around at what would be his bedroom for the next year. A bed, pushed up against the window. A wardrobe, next to the headboard of the bed. A table and a chair, right next to the door. The Hooligans hadn’t done anything differently there. He couldn’t really fault Saga for not making many grandiose requests, considering the circumstances behind the reason for them.Hex set the crate on the floor, crawling over the bed in order to unlatch the wooden shutters. The village below was bustling with Vikings, weapons thrown over shoulders and children weaving their way through the crowds. A mother walking with a stroller, an old man sitting and waving to the passerbyers. The young Ingerman children, who had always cowered and hid away when the Outcasts would visit for the treaty signing. No, when Dagur would look for his victims to torment, and he could follow behind him like a shadow.It would be different this time, it had to be. Berk needed to forget about everything, and give him a second chance. It’s like Ysolda told him; he was just a kid.  He was just a kid who needed everyone to forget about what happened, or at least realize that he didn’t really do anything.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Eyes. Hundreds, all staring straight at her.

The villager’s booming voices ricocheted through Saga’s ears, different sounds, different locations, different everything. Her heart raced in her chest, frozen in her place as she stared blankly at the crowd.

Crowd

was an understatement, the entirety of the village is what it really was.

Nestled between the shoulders of her mother and her brother, all she could do was stare at the doors on the other end of the Great Hall.

Just a few more minutes,

she repeated silently,

just a few more minutes, and I will be out of those doors.

“Hey,” Hex said, quietly enough that she could barely hear it over everything else. He nudged her shoulder, breaking her stare from the crowd and trailing up to his face. The height difference between them was incredible, when a year ago, they were the same height. Then he seemingly sprouted overnight, and wouldn’t stop growing. His brown trousers only reached his ankles as their mother eventually gave up on making more and more wasted clothes.

He leaned down closer so she could hear him over the noise. “Think of something funny. It may or may not work better if you imagine them in their undergarments.”

“That doesn’t work,” she said, loud enough for only Hex to hear. That was always the first thing he went to when he was nervous. Saga tried to do the same thing before, but it never went well. He straightened his back and side-stepped towards Saga, his resting arm brushing against hers. It was an odd type of comfort to know that he was nervous as well.

“Good evening, Berk!” Stoick boomed, right behind Saga. Saga’s heart jumped up to her throat as the sudden sound, and she let out a quick huffed of breath as she continued to scan the crowd.

She had never joined the rest of her family when they would travel to Berk for yearly treaty signings, either watched over by Chief Oswald’s sister, or left home alone once she had passed away. But the way the crowd looked at her with skepticism and confusion, there was no doubt that they hadn’t even known of her simple existence, let alone why her hair was darker than her mother and brother’s and why her eyes shined more brightly.

“Just look down,” Hex said quickly, head already lowered. Saga mimicked him, gazing down at the wood podium below her.

“As you all have possibly heard for the last two weeks, we have new villagers happily joining our tribe,” he cheered. The crowd cheered as well.

Happily joining.

“And it is my rite as the Chieftain of Berk to bring these three into this tribe. Gothi, if you will.”

The crowd quieted. Not

quiet,

as many still mumbled and murmured, but quiet enough. She heard the

click click

sound before she saw her, a short old woman, partly walking with a stick, her gray braids swaying with each step. In her free hand, she held a small piece of charcoal.

She stepped in front of Hex first. Her staff rolled into the crook of her elbow as she rubbed the tips of her pointer and middle fingers on the charcoal, coating them in black. It was like the council’s induction ceremonies on Berserker Island, but with charcoal instead of blood. The Healer was the one who did that in the ceremony, so Saga could only guess that this unknown woman was Berk’s own healer. Despite having a family deeply entwined with Berk, she had not asked many questions back then, so she had little answers now.

Hex leaned down so the Healer could reach his height. The woman, Gothi as she had been called, raised her steady hands to his forehead, drawing a singular vertical line through the space between his eyebrows. She pulled away, and Hex stood straight. Gothi shuffled over to Saga, and did the same. She was quick, one swipe down her forehead and she was moving onto Ysolda.

When she finished, she walked behind the three of them. Saga looked over to Stoick, his eyes on the crowd as he walked directly behind Ysolda. He hovered his hands over her shoulders, but did not touch them.

“Ysolda Elinor Magtire, and her children.” He moved behind Saga, and her back tensed.

“Saga Elaine,” then he was behind Hex, and she hadn’t felt his presence in the slightest, “and Hexus Jackson.”

He walked in front of them, his back turned. “I declare the Magtire’s to be official members of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, official Berkians!”

Applause roared across the Great Hall, and it was over. The two of them stood in place as Ysolda took only a few steps forward, her hands folded politely across her pregnant stomach. Of course, it was time for the speech that she had been prepping for the entire voyage across the sea, and Saga could only hope that she did not drag it along as she usually did.

“You were the ones who took me in when I had nothing. And now, nearly twenty years later, you take me in again, alongside my two children, soon-to-be three. I cannot describe how grateful that has made me, and I will forever be indebted to Stoick and the many Vikings who helped make this happen,” Ysolda smiled gently at the crowd, and gave a small bow. “I wish to bring nothing but peace to this island. Stoick is my Chief, and deep down, my Berkian soul still burns bright.”
 
—
 
Hiccup rolled his eyes at the mushy-gushy words that poured out of Ysolda’s mouth.

The speech was unnecessary, as it wasn’t

her

that himself and possibly the rest of the village were focused on. It was the fact that half of the Disaster Duo was now living on the island, potentially causing more chaos and hurting the kids that were normally the target of the two of them.

Oh, and not to mention the fact that there was a girl standing up there that nobody even

knew

existed before today.

Or, maybe the fact that

no one on Berk

knew about General Kadrin’s death.

If Ysolda had brought up any of those things in her speech, then

maybe

it would have been worth listening to. But he had no interest in attending this event other than his father had forced him to. Still, he hung out near the corner of the Great Hall, behind the crowd of people and close enough to the door to make a hasty exit when it was over.

The ceremony was only officially over when Ysolda bowed one more time, before returning to her children to wrap an arm around both of them. The crowd applauded once more as well, and with that, he was free to go.

However, when he took his chance to leave before many villagers went for the door, he found his feet still glued to the ground. His eyes didn’t leave the siblings… the shadow of the man he feared the most, and the unknown Magtire that no one knew existed until today. Never spoken of by Lady Ysolda, or General Kadrin, or Chief Oswald.

Hex never spoke of her either, but as she scanned the crowd over and over again with fear written all over her face, he was the one who took her hand. She broke from her gaze on the people, who she saw as strangers, to look up at him. He whispered something to her, Hiccup could barely make out that his mouth was moving in the first place. He had been whispering to her for the entire event, and every time, all she focused on was him and his words. Never once had Hiccup seen him as tender as he was with that girl.

Saga,

her name was Saga. Saga Elaine Magtire. Obviously Ysolda’s daughter, but having never been mentioned or talked about before… was she

Kadrin’s

daughter, too, or was there a scandal that he didn’t know about?

Too far, Hiccup. Too far.

That was when he decided that it really

was

time to take his leave. He maneuvered his way through the crowd, nearly invisible as he made his way through the obstacle of people. Once he made it through the front doors, he was met with the night sky. Twinkling stars lit his path home, the moon full and climbing towards its highest peak. There was a sense of calmness to the village, quieted down with most of the population still within the Great Hall. There wouldn’t be an attack in the night, none of the signs were there.

When he would get home, he would sit in his father’s rocking chair and wait for his return. He hadn’t seen him all day, as he was absorbed in making the ceremony go smoothly, and making sure his new residents were comfortable in their new home, right on the hill next to theirs. But once he came home for the night, he would be free from his duties, and Hiccup could finally unleash all of the questions that rattled around in his head.
 
—
 
It was safe to say that Hex was definitely

not

interested in the mingling that Ysolda insisted had to happen.

To “further push their good image” she claimed, but Hex was having none of it. The way Saga clung to his arm further proved that she wanted nothing to do with it, either. There were too many people, the majority of which already knew his face better than he wished to admit. Most of them sent suspicious glares his way, and confused glances towards Saga. This was what he feared, what he tried to constantly bring up to his mother when she was making the plans to move. Of course it was blown off, because once Ysolda was set on her decision, there was absolutely no swaying it.

Hex tugged on Saga’s arm, just enough for her to get the hint. He made his way off of the stage, shoving Saga behind him whilst he weaved through the crowd. Mumbled

excuse me’s

and

coming through’s

came out of his mouth, and he didn’t look in the eyes of anyone that he pushed past. All he wanted was to get him and his sister out of the stuffy building and away from the crowd that smelled of must and sweat.

Finally, he made it to a small opening in front of the doors. Ysolda would probably come back to their new house upset that they didn’t stay, but he would deal with that later. He didn’t

care

enough to worry about such a thing.

“Hey.”

His hand froze on the door handle. He could recognize the gruffness in that feminine voice anywhere. He almost wanted to

groan

before he turned around.

“Uh, hey?” Hex responded. He kept his right arm folded behind his back, Saga still holding onto his wrist tightly and waiting behind him for their exit. Astrid Hofferson stood in front of him, looking almost identical to the last time he saw her at the last treaty signing. Only now she was a bit taller, and the look in her eyes was below freezing.

Astrid narrowed her eyes at Hex. “Don’t act clueless now. You know exactly who I am.”

Well, that wasn’t what he was going for. But the fact that Astrid would immediately jump to that was no surprise, so he had to let out a laugh.

“Wow, the last six months have made you even more feisty, haven’t they?” Hex shook his head. “Better get off your high horse. It won’t get you anywhere.”
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Astrid responded, tone dripping in venom. That was when Saga came out from behind his back, just her eyes and her kransen-adorned forehead peeking over his poncho. “By the way, green is so not your color.”
“You think I don’t know that? Blame the Mother.” Hex rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Asty?”

“For you to stop calling me that, for one,” Astrid seethed, “and for you to

watch yourself.

You aren’t a visitor anymore, clinging to your noble Mommy and Daddy at any sign of trouble. You’re a new resident of

my

homeland, and I will not take kindly to your violence.”

“I’m

so scared,

” Hex said, trying his best not to chuckle. She was too short to be menacing, not when he had seen her scoot across the ground to get away from Dagur in the past, not when all he had to do was snatch her axe out of her hand and hold it higher than she could reach. “I don’t have the energy for all the chaos anymore. You leave me be, and I’ll leave you be. That work for you?”

Astrid didn’t respond. Instead, she turned her attention to the pair of amber eyes that peeked over his poncho. “Saga, right?”

Saga didn’t respond, but he felt her grip around his wrist tighten. He could have said that his sister was being dramatic, but he knew better than to admit it out loud. Not with everything that happened, not with everything that she didn’t

know.

She had every right to be nervous at that very moment.

“No, that’s not her name. Not like the Chief didn’t just announce our full names in front of the entire village, or anything like that,” Hex said sarcastically.

Astrid gave him a nasty look. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to your so-called

sister,

who I didn’t even know existed until a few minutes ago.” Her face lit up with a smirk. “I always thought you were an only child, you fit the spoiled description perfectly.”

But Saga did not respond at all. Astrid’s brows furrowed as she watched Saga disappear behind him yet again, and shook her head. “The village already has a ton of questions. They are skeptical about you, and don’t even know this girl. Lady Ysolda should answer them quickly, before you and your sister end up cast out before you even get a

chance.

”

Yeah, okay.

The fear-mongering Astrid was attempting to do didn’t work on Hex. It’s what he

wanted.

To be left alone, and not bothered. He would only be on Berk for a year, after all. Just long enough for Ysolda to not sway his decisions, so he could start his journey and sail. He could sail to the ends of the Earth if he wanted to, and when he got there, none of what Astrid was saying would matter. And Saga… he was pretty sure she didn’t mind being left alone, either. Or at least, it wouldn’t be anything new to her.

“Yeah, okay. Have a good night, Astrid.” Hex waved her off, and turned back around to open the doors of the Great Hall.

When he was finally met with the cloudy evening sky and the doors shut behind them, he felt Saga’s vice grip on his wrist release. He sat himself down on the top steps, and looked up at the night sky. The stars shone bright above them, full moon high in the sky. The wind only lightly tousled his scraggly mess of hair; Ysolda had tried to brush it out before they departed, but had nearly broken their new comb in order to get through the locks, and gave up. Just as she had given up on trying to get him to wear his shoes, and why she still tried, he had no idea.

Saga sat down next to him, bringing her knees to her chest. Her braided bun was tight against her head, not a single strand blew in the breeze. Her eyes lit up under the night sky, despite how dull of a look she was giving him. “So, that girl knows you.”

Hex nodded, scratching the bridge of his nose. “Indeed, she does. A lot of people here know me. Won’t be surprised if her little

posse

confronts me next.”

Saga pursed her lips. She never asked questions about their yearly travels to Berk, so she never knew what happened on the island. He never

wanted

her to know. But the day their mother decided to uproot their entire life after the raging fire had turned to smoke and ash, he knew he would have to answer to her, at one point or another.

Normally, Hex was quick on the opportunity to be anywhere and everywhere. He was quite popular on Berserker Island, as he was Dagur’s closest friend. He was never home, not until curfew, and sometimes past that. Saga hated those nights, Hex always knew that. Yet, she had always helped him sneak back inside, and never said a word about it to either of their parents. Clearly, it was the exact opposite on Berk.

“What did you even do when you were here?” Saga asked. It had already been hinted to Saga that he wasn’t on his best behavior on Berk, and that didn’t come as no surprise to her. She knew him possibly better than he knew himself, but she

didn’t

know just how far he would let things go when he had the freewill to do so.

And now that he had to tell her the truth, he felt sick to his stomach. “Well

I

didn’t do anything, technically.”

“Well,

technically,

that girl does not seem pleased with you moving here.”

Hex shook his head. He was tired of going over this, tired of explaining, tired of promising over and over and over again something that he already

planned

on doing. No one believed him, that was no surprise. Still, it was

annoying.

Saga though, she didn’t know much. There was plenty hidden away, what he promised to never tell. It ate at him every day since he made the promise, but keeping secrets in their family wasn’t new. Keeping secrets from

Saga,

however…

…He pulled a flask out from the inner pocket of his poncho. It only had a few drops of the mead he stole off the ship left, but he downed it without a second thought. He almost contemplated going back inside just to steal some out of the barrel. He decided against it, however, when Saga raised an eyebrow upon seeing the flask.

That,

was no secret from her.

“Of course she’s not pleased with me being here. Dagur hurt her and all of her friends. Force fed them rotten cod, left them on cliffs for days, nearly drowned the Heir.”

“But that’s Dagur, and that comes to no one’s surprise. You’re not Dagur.”

Hex let out the faintest snort as he pocketed the flask. “Yeah, go tell all of them that, then.”

“Hexus,” Saga said, much gentler now. “I already know that you got into trouble here. And it

seems

like even though you weren’t the cause of it…”

“...I went along with it. I held Fishlegs down while Dagur force fed him the cod. I found the location where we left Astrid for days. I’m the one that gave him the matches to light Ruffnut’s hair on fire. Some of the things he did were even my idea.”

Finally saying it,

admitting

what he had done. It felt like a weight lifted off of his chest, but immediately replaced with a new one, a heavier one. “But there were times when I would tell him to stop. When he held the Heir under water for too long, I pushed him off the kid. When he stole Snotlout’s most prized helmet, I snuck it out of his satchel and returned it at his doorstep.”

Hex sighed. “I’m not like that anymore. Dagur and I are history.”

History.

He never thought he would say that about his lifelong best friend. But were they really best friends, if the second he told Dagur that he was moving and it was out of his control, he was suddenly on Dagur’s bad side?

“Genuinely?” Saga asked, skeptical.

Hex turned to her, looking her right in her eyes. “Genuinely.”
 
—
 
Hiccup waited up late into the night for his father’s return.

He could feel his eyes slowly drifting shut as he sat in the chair, but sat up quickly when he heard the front door unlatch. Stoick stepped through, not even looking in his direction at first as he set down his helmet and rolled his shoulders back. His groan and the sound of his shoulders cracking reverberated through the entire house.

Only when he turned, did he recognize Hiccup’s presence. “I thought you would already be asleep.”

“Hard to sleep knowing someone who wants me dead is living on the next hill over, Dad.”

Stoick rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood. “Don’t be so dramatic, Son. He promised that things will be different, and if he slips, he knows the consequences.”

Hiccup shook his head and stood from the chair. “It’s not

dramatic.

I have every right to fear for my safety with that guy living here. You know what he has done, not only to me but the other kids on the island. Gustav, the Ingerman cousins, Snotlout, the Twins, Fishlegs… Astrid,” he stuttered upon saying her name, “why would you think for even a

second

to disturb the peace on the island?”

The look on Stoick’s face changed, and Hiccup knew he had taken it too far. But how could he not? For weeks he had questions that were left unanswered, and he didn’t know why until he saw Hex step off of that boat. They didn’t tell him because they

knew

what the response would be. And judging by the looks on the villager’s face, they also did not know who exactly the new arrivals were either.

“Disturbing the peace, now?” Stoick chimed. “As if causing destruction during every dragon raid because you refuse to stay inside isn’t disturbing the peace?”

He rubbed his face before he continued. “I know you have many questions. I was trying to avoid this the past few weeks, but I have clearly gone about this very wrong. But what I can tell you is that Ysolda was not only a Lady on Berserker Island, but she was a Councillor on Berk many years ago when I was just enacted as Chief. She was a close friend of your Mother, and still a close friend of mine. She knows how to keep her boy in line, so if anything happens, you do not hesitate to tell me. Deal?”

Hiccup didn’t say a word. He couldn’t agree to that, he couldn’t even

trust

it. Just like when Dagur tried to drown him and he only got off with just a slap on the wrist. When Hex caught a Terrible Terror and Dagur used it to chase around the Twins, another slap on the wrist. No, he wouldn’t agree to an empty deal.

“Dagur isn’t here, is he? Hex’s bad influence is gone. They just lost a loved one too, Hiccup. I think he’s more focused on the loss of his father than plotting something against anyone,” Stoick said.

“Yeah, and you couldn’t even tell me about General Kadrin’s death, either.”

Stoick pursed his lips, but Hiccup could barely tell from behind his beard. “That was something that Chief Oswald and Ysolda asked of me personally. It caused plenty of mayhem on Berserker Island, as he had been a General since he was Hex’s age. Who knew what mayhem it would cause here.”

“And that girl?”

“Hiccup.”

No, he wasn’t going to stop

now.

He lied about Hex, and he lied about Kadrin–which was understandable, if it was another Chief’s and the widow’s orders, but still–and now there was another Magtire that no one on Berk had seen before. “She doesn’t even look like General Kadrin, or Lady Ysolda. Is that why she was never brought to the island? Is she some sort of bas–”

“Watch your mouth,” Stoick’s tone changed. “I raised you better than to speak on something you haven’t a clue about, boy.”

Hiccup quieted immediately. Maybe that was a

bit

too far.

“If you are calling Ysolda a

whore,

then I will personally take it up with her. To insinuate such disgusting adjectives is extremely disappointing,” Stoick started. “Think of Gustav, for example. He is raised by his Aunt and Uncle, because his parents were carried away by dragons. Adoption exists, Hiccup, and Saga is a product of that.”

“Then why–”

Stoick groaned, clearly sick of the questions. “

Adoption,

Hiccup. Why she was never brought to Berk for the yearly treaty signings, why she was never spoken about, that is a question I will not answer out of respect for their

privacy.

If you care that badly, man up and ask her yourself.”

Stoick sat down in his chair, and leaned his head back. “Enough with the questions. Go get me a block of ice, and then get ready for bed. It is getting late.”

Hiccup did as he was told as he headed towards the ice box in the other room. As if he would

ever

ask her that question, as if he would ever speak to the Magtire’s of his own free will in the first place.

It didn’t matter now, what’s done was done. He got answers to some of his questions, and though he still had plenty more, he knew one thing for certain: he was staying

away

from all things Magtire.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saga tried to sleep through the night in her room. Keyword: tried.

And she did good until the middle of the night, when she woke up in the middle of the night, shuffled into Hex’s room and collapsed on the floor. Saga fell back asleep instantly when she focused on Hex’s soft snores and paced her own breath to match his own.

She woke up in the morning to small rays of light squeezing through the cracks of his window, shining right into her face. She felt the late September chill wash over her body the second she threw the blanket off of her and sat up. She still wore her dress from the night before, but her hair was a scraggly mess.

She didn’t give her appearance a second thought as she looked over and found herself alone in his bedroom.

His

bedroom, her own was right across the hall, the door left wide open. She never had her own room until yesterday, and clearly, her head hadn’t yet caught up with that fact.

She stood up and stretched before gathering her blankets from the floor, folding the ones Hex let her borrow and placing them neatly on his messy bed. She tossed her own blankets back into her bedroom before she made her way towards the living area. The wood was cold against her bare feet, she was sure she would have a splinter with how fresh the oak still was.

Still groggy from her slumber, she couldn’t make out the conversation Hex and her mother were having as Hex was hunched over the fireplace, stirring a spoon around a pot. Ysolda stood in front of one of the tables next to the icebox, knife in hand as she cut through a yam quickly and precisely.

If the house had smelled like cinnamon, she would have assumed that her father was already off with Oswald for the day, and she was about to get ready for her studies. Instead the house smelled of the mighty oak trees that the Berkians had used to build it, and smoke from the fireplace that had not made it into the chimney. What her day held for her, she wasn’t sure. Her mother would probably continue their studies, for sure, or Hex would find that “Snotlout” boy that he had spoken of last night and on the ship. Saga was content on staying home and occupying herself with her journals, or maybe catching up on the sleep she lacked from the journey there.

Ysolda was the first to notice her presence at the end of the hallway. “Good morning, my love,” she smiled sweetly, before she scanned Saga up and down. “It looks like your brother’s floor was quite comfortable. I bet your bed is even

more

comfortable, though.”

She set down the knife, and approached Saga to push her hair back behind her ears. “Go get ready for the day, breakfast will be done in a little while.”

Saga listened and shuffled back towards her bedroom. With her blankets still unfolded on the floor and a crate still left to unpack, she opened her window to let some light into the dim room. The chill hit her immediately, as the fabric of her dress was not as thick as the hydes that her normal dresses were made of.

She had already unpacked her wardrobe, which hadn’t consisted of much. She had been pleasantly surprised to find a few more articles of clothing tailored to fit her the day before, some made of thicker fur than others. She had been warned about how cold Berk could get compared to Berserker Island, with their long winters and an extra season they called

“Devastating Winter.”

It was nearly October and it felt as cold as it would have been in the middle of November on her home island. She opted out her green dress for one of the brown dresses with thick yak hydes and a bear fur overcoat around the skirt. She was even gifted a new pair of boots made of durable yak leather, lined with the same bear fur that lined her dress.

Saga tore a brush through her hair and tied it back into one thick braid. Even braided, it reached her lower back and she never cared enough to tie it up like her mother did. She did it when she was asked, but that was all. Ysolda had not specified that she needed her hair up, so it would stay in the singular braid.

As she waited for breakfast to be done, she busied herself with neatly folding her blankets and putting away her last crate of belongings. She only came to Berk with two crates, one of which was dedicated to clothes. Glass vials filled with water and petals, journals with charred corners, and everything else that survived the fire. It wasn’t much, but she had put off unpacking the crate the day before to simply gather where she was at and what would be the next few years of her life. She was still wrapping her head around it all as she set the fragile journals on her table.

What that girl had said last night, about potentially being casted out before they were even given a chance. It would have struck her to her core, if not for the fact that she had already pondered on the thought. Maybe that really

was

what she wanted. It was easier that way.

The looks she was getting put her on edge, but they were never anything new

.

It was one thing for an entire island to be skeptical as to why she looked nothing like her parents, but for an entire island to know the reason

why

was another. Her mother made it clear that Saga didn’t have to say a word… in fact, Ysolda told her to do the exact

opposite.

She made Saga and Hex swear not to say a word or tell a soul. It would be far easier to keep to that if she was cast out, anyway.

Eventually her floor was clean, and she stepped back out into the living area. She nearly ran into Hex as he passed the hallway with the boiling hot pot in his hands, unaware to look around the corner before stepping out of the hallway. The near collision caused Ysolda to gasp, but Hex maneuvered out of the way in order to only spill a few small puddles onto the floor.

“A family full of klutz’ living in new surroundings,” Ysolda chuckled. “We will all be at Gothi’s one way or another.”

Ysolda finished setting the table as Hex strained leaves out of the pot. Saga busied herself with pulling out the chairs, before helping Hex pour the tea into three cups. They had not had breakfast in their own home in nearly a month, having stayed in one of Oswald’s guest houses while their mother made the final preparations for moving. Being in such close proximity to Dagur was a terror, when their mother wasn’t home the doors were always locked and barricaded.

Especially

after Hex broke the news to him of the moving date

She did not like remembering that month. It was all a blur, just as was the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that…

… “Stoick will be giving us an official tour of the island,” Ysolda said, and suddenly they were sitting at the table with their plates in front of them. “Partly for you, Saga, and partly for all of us. To remind us of the rules, the holidays, and to get me familiar with people again. Now, eat. You’ve been picking for too long.”

Just as Saga finished her plate, a loud knock rattled the door. It nearly sounded threatening, but her mother’s calm smile made Saga think otherwise. Hex and Saga cleared the table as Ysolda answered the door, kindly greeting their new Chief.

In only a matter of moments, and a flurry of coats tossed in their direction, the two of them were rushed out the door. Saga quickly threw the fur coat over her shoulders when she met with the sudden chill, brown as the colors of her dress, to no surprise.

What was described as a tour was mostly a chance for the Chief and their mother to catch up with one another. Despite having seen each other every year since she married their father, it was all strictly political. Even conversing with some of the villagers as they walked through the winding roads lined with houses, she had not truly gotten to do in nearly two decades.

Hex and Saga just stayed behind the two of them and looked around at the houses. There were a dozen or so villagers continuing their daily chores and the like, a woman pinning her laundry to a clothesline, a man chopping wood and then some for bundles to barter. More than half of them raised their heads in the presence of their Chief, even more so with his company behind him. Saga did her best to look away, in hopes that eventually she would turn

invisible.

There were houses and shops, there were catapults at the corners of the plaza and watchtowers galore. More dirt roads led to other farms at lower elevation on the island. They weren’t taken to the farms, as that was technically allowing the public on personal property, but the Chief took them to a ledge in the plaza to show them what one of the sheep farms looked like.

“I assume Gobber’s forge is where it has always been?” Ysolda queried as they stood at the ledge.

“Ay, as it’s always been. He lives in the damn thing now,” the Chief laughed a full-hearted belly laugh. His voice was much more…

explosive,

than Chief Oswald’s.

“Then that shall be our next destination.”

Ysolda needed no directions in order to get to the forge. Hex and Saga continued to follow behind the two of them, barely paying attention to their conversation as they walked. Saga’s feet had grown tired, but at least she was still warm in the cold.

“Hex!”

The shout echoed through the village, and all four of them turned their head towards the direction of the sound. A shorter boy came charging toward them, his helmet bouncing on top of his black hair. The boy stopped in front of them, putting his hands on his knees as he panted from exhaustion.

“Way to make an entrance, Snotlout,” Hex laughed, reaching down with a fist in order to give him a fistbump.

“I didn’t know it was you and your family that would be moving here, not until last night. I think it’s so totally cool that it’s

you

though, and not some lame-o.” He turned his attention towards Saga with a raise of his brow. “And who are you?”

“Okay, uh, chill out Snotlout,” Hex said awkwardly. Obviously, this boy was thrilled to see him, and definitely not the Snotlout that Hex had previously described.

Physically,

Hex was spot on; he really was shorter than Saga.

“Yes, sir!”

“

Snotlout,

” Hex groaned. “You’re not mine and Dagur’s minion… anymore.”

Anymore? Saga

really

didn’t know what was going on when she stayed on Berserker Island, then.

“Really? So like, you won’t send a letter to Dagur and–”

“

No,

Snotlout. Thor, I’m not

that

petty.”

Snotlout let out a sigh of relief, nearly comical. “You want to go throw some axes, or something?”

His theatrics died down almost immediately, and Hex chuckled. “If that’s what you want. If–” Hex looked over at his mother, silently asking for permission.

He was met with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. You already know what will happen if any trouble gets stirred up.”

Hex merely glanced in Saga’s direction before he started to follow Snotlout. With just the three of them now, Saga was left to walk alone behind the Chief and her mother. She could hear the forge before she saw it, the clanking of metal and the sizzling of molten iron cooling in water.

A blonde man with a long mustache and a hook for a hand was only in view for a moment before he was gone, into another part of the forge that she could not see from the window. Gobber, as he had been called. He had also been there to greet them at the docks.

The ear splitting sound of metal crashing together made Saga’s ears ring, she almost instinctively covered her ears, but instead jumped mid-walk. A split second later she heard Gobber’s shout of,

Ack! Hiccup!

and then a green tunic was in her view as a boy hurriedly placed as much metal as he could carry on one of the tables.

The boy from the day before, she could tell by the way his tunic hung nearly to his knees. The boy that did

not

seem pleased to greet them on the docks, and had disappeared before they made it to the house.
 
—
 
“Oh come on, Boy. Will ya please talk?”

Absolutely not.

Gobber was also in on this little secret of his father’s, and this wasn’t something he could just

get over.

If he had known, he couldn’t have changed his father’s mind, but he could have at least prepared. Maybe he could have mended things with Fishlegs enough to have each other’s backs. Maybe even Astrid.

Especially

Astrid.

“Stoick thought it best to keep it all a secret, y’know,” Gobber continued to press. “He was wrong, he knows that now. He just thought that it would stress you out, is all.”

Hiccup continued to pile metal onto his cart in order to clear off his table for an order, paying no mind to his statement. Still, Gobber continued to press. “Keeping Kadrin’s death underwraps was a political move, so that enemy territory didn’t catch wind until all of us allies knew that the situation was under control. That is stuff you’ll have to learn someday too.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. That was always used as the excuse, and yet when it came down to it, Snotlout was invited to more meetings than he was. Of course, Snotlout was ungrateful and always declined, but if Hiccup was offered as much as Snotlout was, he would turn it down here and there as well. Which, of course, would never happen in the first place. If anything, Snotlout will be the next Chief… Odin protect them

all

if that day arrives.

“And there’s not much to say about Saga, other than you have nothing to worry about with

either

of the siblings. I understand that it’s confusing, but I’m not the–”

“I

don’t care,

Gobber,” Hiccup finally snapped.

Whatever

, Saga was adopted and never came to the island. Why her family never spoke of her, he had no idea, but after stewing over the entire situation for most of the night, he became more worried over the fact that Hex was on the island than anything else. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about how I was lied to, when I could have better prepared myself for someone whose favorite hobby is

tormenting me

to move here.”

“He won’t–”

“You don’t know that,” Hiccup huffed. He finished setting a chunk of metal onto the cart and looked at Gobber, his hands at his sides. “Every single time before now, they’ve only ever gotten off with a slap on the wrist–”

As he waved his hand to mock the

slap

that he was speaking of, he hit his hand against the cart. With a yelp and the metal chunks laid unevenly on the cart, suddenly it was falling over like an ear-shattering avalanche.

Hiccup covered his ears until it was nothing but an echo, and before he could even react and clean up the mess he had made, he heard his father’s voice from outside the window. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is dandy, just a little spill,” Gobber responded. Hiccup peered around the corner at his father, only to meet Lady Ysolda’s gaze instead. Next to her stood Saga, dressed in more furs than he could ever think of wearing while it was still above freezing. Gobber seemed to notice as well, as he cracked a smile. “Are you warm there, lass?”

Saga looked up from the ground, her bright eyes meeting his. She nodded her head, shallow and polite. It was slightly warmer on Berserker Island, or so he had heard. She must not have been used to the sudden change in temperature, just judging by the rosy hue on her pale nose and cheeks.

Hiccup paid no mind to that, however, when he busied himself with picking up the pieces of spilled scrap metal. Lady Ysolda spoke back and forth with Gobber, which he mainly tuned out. Talk of the changes of the island didn’t really pique his interest enough to add on to such a subject, so he stuck to pushing the cart aside and starting on the next order. It was a simple axe, it would take him ten minutes tops.

As he continued his work, their three voices were muffled in his ears. Swapping stories of their adolescence, and the messes that Ysolda and Gobber made every time they worked together. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye of Gobber showing them around the forge.

“It looks nearly the same.” Lady Ysolda looked around the cluttered building with a content smile etched across her lips. “How is my old stall looking?”

She meant

Hiccup’s stall,

of course. That had been used as storage his entire life, up until Gobber took him in as his apprentice, and Hiccup started coming up with so many different ideas for inventions that Gobber barely had enough room for it all.

“Hiccup’s stall now,” Gobber clarified, “It’s messier than out here, that much I know. But Hiccup and his privacy, it’s best to leave it be.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes at Gobber’s sly laugh and continued with his work. The jab landed no effect on him, because despite how Gobber made it sound, the only thing he didn’t want was for his blueprints to get rifled through whenever he misplaced his orders. Arguing with him was pointless though, and despite the

lies

he was told, he did not want to act disorderly in front of Lady Ysolda.

Instead, Hiccup continued with his work. The faster he got it done, the faster he could go out and be on his own. As long as he made it to dinner and was back home by his curfew, Stoick never bothered to ask where he was going or when he would be back. He had the entire forest mapped out and memorized, every cave, fallen tree, and cove.  The faster he got the orders done, the faster he could get away from the village while Hex lurked about.

Their voices yet again fell on deaf ears as he sharpened the blade of the axe. He could understand that Lady Ysolda wanted to revisit a place she spent much of her time when she used to live on Berk, but to make the small space even more cramped with her company was just a bit awkward, was it not?

Especially when he

swore

he could feel one of them looking right at him.

He tried his best to continue paying attention to his work, but when Saga seemed to move closer to him, he couldn’t help but take a step back. Why was she getting up in his business, anyway? He couldn’t help but look up, but he didn’t make eye contact. Because of

course,

she wasn’t looking at him.

Now he was the one looking at her as she stood at the other end of the table, her gaze stuck on the blueprints attached to the wall behind him.

Her eyes are amber.

He only stumbled upon that realization after she already looked back at him.

Great, now I’m the creepy one for staring at her.

“Uh…” Hiccup jumbled, the head of the axe clanking onto the table as he looked at the blueprints behind him. “Tho– Those are Gobber’s blueprints for different war machines he wants to work on, in his spare time.” Even if he couldn’t save the fact that he just got caught staring because he was paranoid that she was in his space, he could at least divert the subject before it could get brought up.

However, it seemed as if that was the last thing on Saga’s mind. She only seemed to peer closer, her amber eyes scanning the parchment and charcoal strokes. Then her eyes scanned over the next piece of parchment, and the next, and the next. She paid no mind to Hiccup as she walked the opposite direction, gaze following the wall.

Great, now

he

was the one to overthink the entire situation. He couldn’t even continue his work with Gobber, Lady Ysolda, and his dad yapping in the corner and swapping stories from their adolescence, much less a random girl he never even met only a few feet away from him, her weird amber eyes like he’s never seen before and how she was wearing Devastating Winter attire in the middle of Autumn, and her hair that was so long that even in a braid it was longer than most of the women’s hair on the island, the only exception being her own Mother.

Who was she, anyway? Why did he even give a crap, when he just told Gobber that he didn’t?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. They would be gone soon, and he needed to finish that order.

He reached over for the handle of the axe, doing his very best to add the finishing touches onto the custom wood that Gobber had handled the night before. Even with Lady Ysolda’s loud laughs and Gobber’s reminiscing in the background.

“What is this one supposed to be?”

The voice was quiet, almost

mouse-like

as she asked the question with hesitance

.

He turned to the direction of the noise, only to see Saga looking right back at him with curious eyes and rosy cheeks. Her chin was shoved into the fur shawl that wrapped over her dress, and her lanky finger pointed up to one of the blueprints.

Hiccup set down the handle. Of course he had to look at what she was talking about, the first thing she had

ever

said, it seemed like. With the way she said it so carefully, as if she wasn’t sure she could talk to him in the first place. And maybe she wasn’t, maybe that was why he had never met her before, maybe that was what his dad was hinting at the night before.

It was all so odd, and he wasn’t supposed to care, but he still answered her question. “It’s a catapult that’s supposed to chuck a bola, but the bola is actually maceheads with some barbed-rope type of thing connecting it.”
Saga raised an eyebrow. The idea was a bit much, but Gobber was insistent that it would work out in the end, and he would be able to create it. That was months ago, and since then, neither he nor Gobber could come up with how to make it work without either losing one–or another–limb.
“It’s a work in progress,” Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his neck. Saga cocked her head to the side, her braid slightly swaying behind her with the movement.

“Is it even practical?” Saga asked, voice just as small as before. Her eyes did not leave the parchment, possibly trying to grasp the random lines and points that Gobber said were supposed to represent

spurs

and

spines,

that mainly just crowded up the space and made the blueprint look more like a child’s coloring book.

“Practical? Gods, no. Gobber’s dream? Most definitely,” Hiccup responded. She scratched at the black leather kransen that was tied around her forehead, her bright eyes still scanned the drawing.

Saga blinked, and very gently, shook her head. “Hopefully an achievable dream.”

She said not another word before she spun on her heel, facing towards her Mother. Lady Ysolda was looking right back at them, a pleasant smile across her lips. “Anything strike your interest?” She asked Saga.

Saga shrugged, and Lady Ysolda laughed. “I can always set something up with Gobber, have you work in the forge in your free time. You’ve always loved to help your brother build.”

“My father, too,” Saga mumbled. Hiccup was sure even Lady Ysolda didn’t hear her at frirst, but clearly he was proved wrong as the smile from her face slowly faded. Even his dad and Gobber went quiet, unable to figure out a response.

It’s almost as if she’s grieving,

Hiccup thought. Y’know, because it’s obvious that a family who had only lost their father… what? A month prior? Not even? He wasn’t sure, but still, he couldn’t imagine how he would be if he lost his own father, what he would do or how he would act.

That was another thing that didn’t make sense to him. When they came to Berk, Lady Ysolda was happy to be home, that was a given. However, to not show much sorrow for her own husband, and to change the subject when his dad had tried to bring it up on the docks the day before. When they walked off of the ship, they were all coordinated in lavish

green

. Not black, like he would assume a widow and her children would wear.

Hex… he wasn’t sure. He was definitely annoyed, probably at the fact that he had it drilled in his head that he had to change how he acted in the past. Gobber had reminded him that he

did

just lose his father, and a boy his age losing his father was a traumatic experience. Maybe he

was

grieving.

In the end, however, it was always Lady Ysolda who planned their outfits accordingly, to every treaty signing. It was always Lady Ysolda who was gently holding his lips shut as a child when he would speak out of turn, teaching him the ways of image and politeness– that he never seemed to use outside of the Great Hall while he was nestled in between his parents. Why was she not grieving, and why was she staring at her own

daughter

like she spoke out of turn about her deceased father?

Whatever. It wasn’t any of his business. He needed to just

stay out of it.

“Hiccup, will you be joining us at the Great Hall?” Lady Ysolda asked, changing the subject. The question threw him for a loop, or maybe he just focused too much on the way the three

adults

reacted to that girl with pure silence until her Mother changed the subject.

“I have to finish this order,” Hiccup said quickly, only taking a mere two strides before he was back at his station with the handle of the axe in his palm.

“Oh, just go, Boy,” Gobber groaned. “I spent all night on that thing, and we are making it for a hefty price. Just let

me

handle it.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes, and set the handle down. Why,

why

couldn’t he just stay in the forge and keep doing what he did every other day? Why was he constantly getting dragged around to the most pointless of things, but not when things mattered?

Okay, then where’s my invite to the next Chieftain meeting?

He wanted to say, but of course, his tongue bled with how hard he had to bite it. He would just be met back with that

Disaster Hiccup

crap he was told every time he tried to negotiate. Like right now, he couldn’t even finish the axe he had nearly gotten done, simply because Gobber supposedly didn’t

trust

him to finish it. Why they had him in the forge at all at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“C’mon, Son. We all need some sunlight,” Stoick said. Something he always said around this time of year, before they were plunged in gray clouds day and night for the next several months.

In the end, an argument would have been pointless. He simply took off his apron and hung it on the hook, before following his father out of the building. Lady Ysolda and Saga were behind him, but it wasn’t long until both her and his father were in front of him, chatting with one another as he silently followed behind.

Saga walked next to him, not a word spoken as she focused steadily on the ground. As he looked around, he saw the glances in her direction. They were all confused, as before yesterday, Saga Elaine Magtire did not exist. Of course they were curious, and clearly, Saga did not like the looks a single bit. Her pointer fingers picked at the skin around her thumbnails, until they stained her skin red.

As they made it to the Great Hall, Stoick was greeted by a handful of villagers with warm smiles and simple hello’s or head bows. The four of them made it to a table near the corner, where no villagers played cards or swapped mead pints and stories nearby.

“You’ve already seen the Great Hall, but I’ve mainly pulled you all here to discuss something,” Stoick said once he sat down. Lady Ysolda sat next to him, her hands folded neatly on the tabletop, elbows just

barely

grazing the table. “Clearly Hexus is not here, but there must be a further discussion to be had between us before we will bring it up to him.”

Hiccup raised an eyebrow, unsure. Saga sat next to him, her hands folded in a similar fashion to her Mother’s, except under the table where she still freely picked at the skin around her thumb nails. “As you know, Hiccup, Gobber starts hosting Dragon Training for any teenagers who have already turned fifteen on the first of October. As I have decided, you and I will be manning the stalls while Gobber is away.”

Seriously?

“I’ve been telling you since you were

thirteen,

son,” Stoick responded.

Oh.

He said that out loud. “Until you show some pride and some strength, you will not take part in anything related to the dragons.”

Okay. The remarks and jabs in the forge earlier, and the comments the day before, and the week before, and the month before, and the

year

before–

“Let me guess,

Snotlout

is attending dragon training. Right?” Hiccup’s tone came off a tinge harsher than he anticipated, and he did not miss the way his father’s eyes changed. From the leading Chief, stoic Stoick, to the father of a child he could never fully be proud of, within an instance.

Despite that, however, Stoick was still as stoic as he normally was. “Yes he is, because he can at least hold a shield up to defend himself.”

His words were harsh, his voice was calm. Of course, he was still in his Chief Mode. He

mustn’t

lose his respectable leadership with his hotheadedness.

“

Stoick.

” Lady Ysolda’s gaze was sharp in his direction, but turned soft as she turned to Hiccup. “It could be different next year, Hiccup, and you know that.”

She gave him a reassuring smile, but Stoick’s stone look was still drilling into him. Lady Ysolda didn’t seem to notice as her gaze shifted next to Hiccup. “But, Saga, this comes to no surprise… you will not be joining, either.”

Hiccup looked in Saga’s direction, with the thought that maybe she would react. But she only stared blankly at her Mother, and shrugged yet again. “Good.”

It was one word, but it was enough for Stoick’s attention to finally falter away from Hiccup. He scrunched his eyebrows together as he looked in Saga’s direction. “Just

good

?”

All Saga did was nod.

Now, Hiccup wasn’t sure what it was like to necessarily

live

on Berserker Island. Because of Dagur, he heard stories of villagers eating other villagers, tyrants setting the entire village on fire, mayhem, chaos, destruction. Chief Oswald, however, displayed the exact opposite. Though, there was always one underlying theme… the war with the dragons, and why Berserker Island and Berk were at peace in the first place.

For generations, Vikings in both villages alike were taught from a young age how to protect, how to fight, how to trap, how to bait, and so on and so forth. It was a rite of passage, and a major one for nobility such as himself and a Magtire like Saga.

And to reply with

good,

when she was denied that rite of passage?

Who even

was

the girl sitting in front of him? The eyes, the behavior, the way she spoke, and walked, and overall just carried herself as she huddled into her fur shawl. She wasn’t a Berserker. She was just

weird.

“Then it’s settled,” Stoick said, breaking Hiccup away from his thoughts. No, the subject wasn’t about her–

he wasn’t supposed to care.

She was just the oddball Magtire that nobody on the island has met, and randomly showed up one day with no announcement. The subject at hand, was the fact that for yet another year in a row, he was reminded of something so dire. And the fact that

Hex

was getting consideration…

“Is it settled?” Hiccup queried. “You still have to discuss Hex, who will probably be eaten alive in there by the other

people

before the dragons because of how he and Dagur treated everyone, but this is all settled?”

“Hiccup, stop. It is settled, and that is that.”

Hiccup was sure that with another word, he would embarrass himself in front of everyone at the table, as well as everyone in the Great Hall. When his father’s voice boomed, it could shake buildings, and he knew by the way that he rubbed his temples that if he argued another word, he was going to use it.

“Fine. We’ll man the stall.”

Another year, another way to say that, no matter

what

he did or how hard he tried, he was just a Hiccup.
 
—
 
“Oh– Oh!! Do you remember when you tied me to a tree by my toes?”

Hex grumbled, harshly leaning back against the wooden bench. Snotlout laughed loudly next to him, punching him in the arm like what he just said was the funniest thing that had ever been said in his life.

“That was a bet, and it’s not really that funny,” he said. It was a Berserker Island bet, or really, a

Dagur

bet. Hex knew he was going to lose, because it was either that, or help him leave Saga alone in the forest on that island.

That was how he got into a lot of the situations he was in, he tried to explain. Of course, Snotlout wasn’t listening. He had already idolized Dagur, that fact was clear as day. Dagur fed on it every year, and no matter what Dagur did, Snotlout was always following behind him again a few minutes later.

“Or that time that you set Astrid’s hair on fire!?” Snotlout suddenly bursted, falling over with a belly laugh.

Hex pursed his lips. He hated that memory. He hated that entire

bet.

Dagur and his stupid bets– no, not even.

Manipulation.

He had flawlessly crafted it in his childhood, just for him.

“I bet that you won’t do this terribly horrible thing. But if you don’t, you have to do this equally terrible thing. And if you don’t do either, we aren’t friends, and then you’re just as much of a loner as your sister is. Is that what you really want?”

Set Astrid’s hair on fire, or burn Saga’s journal?

He was

fourteen,

of course there was no hesitation… and Astrid’s hair

still

wasn’t as long as it was before. At least it was put out before it actually hurt her, at least

he

was the one who was hurt in the end. Even if she didn’t see it, even if she didn’t know.

Maybe Saga’s journal was worth burning instead.

Hex pulled the wooden flask out from his poncho pocket. Snotlout’s laughs came to a halt when he saw him put it to his lips, and he threw his head back. Only a single droplet came out, as dinner was not for a few more hours and he had not yet had the chance to refill it. But

Gods,

he needed a drink.

The way Snotlout looked at him when he pulled the flask away from his lips made him

uncomfortable,

for lack of a better term. It came to no surprise for him, that much Hex knew. Snotlout had followed behind him and Dagur as they shared a similar flask and walked through the village. The look of curiosity as he stared was nothing new, but the sudden look of worry on Snotlout’s face when Hex was met with the empty container was what threw him off.

“What?” Hex queried. Snotlout quickly shook his head, pursed lips and wide eyes.

Odin, this guy was pathetic.

Hex rolled his eyes and pushed his back off of the bench. He sat up straight, and looked Snotlout right in his eyes. “Snotlout. You. Have. Nothing. To. Worry. About.”

“Me? I’m not worried!” Snotlout laughed, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand.

It was clear, however, that it was a plain lie. That much Hex could tell as Snotlout’s giveaway was so simple, the lack of eye contact in his statement gave it all away.

“Me and Dagur? We’re history. I’ve already said this, and I mean it. He’s…” And suddenly, Hex couldn’t find the words.

“Crazy?”

“Yes.”

“Demented?”

“Yes.”

“Super strong and amazing and cool?”

“Wh– No?”

Snotlout frowned, crossing his arms. “You’ve lost your edge, Hex Magtire.”

And suddenly, that statement made the tension in his chest slowly disintegrate. A singular piece of the much larger entity, but enough for his shoulders to lax and a smile to creep across his face. He shoved the flask back into his poncho pocket, and offered Snotlout a closed fist.

Snotlout’s eyes gleamed as he met Hex with a fistbump. Sure, the guy was just mesmerized that someone he

somehow

looked up to was giving him the light of day instead of having him walk on his heels. But it was those words, “you’ve lost your edge.”

Good.