Three years after Hiccup past, Stoick Haddock sat on a hill overlooking Berk, his son's dagger sat in the palm of his hand. Small. Barely a blade, more like a kitchen knife. It was not a worthy weapon to battle a dragon and had let him down when it mattered.

There hadn't been a dragon raid in years, the few beasts that Berk was visited by these days were lone drifters desperate for food or curious smaller dragons- likely younger- drawn by the lights of the village. They usually spooked and flew off before someone could attack, and if they got violent they usually decided to turn tail eventually.

Everyone had started celebrating on the anniversary of the last dragon raid they were subject to, paper dragon crafts were burned or paraded to the cliffs and thrown into the ocean. Feasts were held, drinks had. It was wonderful, that they finally lived in peace.

Stoick had, of course, celebrated with his village. But a few weeks after the anniversary was the day he had more interest in commemorating.

His son was killed by a dragon, fifteen years old. it was a crime of nature.

But Stoick couldn't punish nature. there was no one for him to get revenge on. There was no fight he could win and suddenly feel whole again. his son now lived solely in the gaping crevice in his soul, alongside his love. And there was nothing he could do about it.

For the first time in three years, Trader Johan docked at Berk.

Astrid was almost relieved. Berk had very little communication with other tribes. Oswald the Agreeable hadn't sent anything to berk in a while (in fact, people were beginning to gossip that Daggur had killed him) and the rest of the tribes tended to exist in their own little bubbles. Johan was the common trader that always stayed longest and talked lengthiest.

So she had to admit that, for once, she was actually excited to listen to him ramble endlessly about one adventure or another.

She was not the only one, as apparent by the crowd at the docks. She could barely move through everyone and she wasn't even on his boat yet.

Once she noticed Gustav had wormed his way onto the deck and was dramatically twirling some weapon that he definitely couldn't use properly she decided to come back later. It's not like Johan would get tired of dramatically telling stories and selling international antiquities. And it wasn't her responsibility to save everyone from Gustav's clumsy reckoning. It looked like someone was sailing with Johan presently and was awkwardly trying to un-arm the ridiculous fifteen-year-old.

The town itself was on high with Johan's arrival. Everyone's wallets seemed to have become heavier and with it came a weight being pulled from people's shoulders. There hadn't been a dragon raid in three years, crops were flourishing and livestock was giving them higher yields since they weren't being frequently terrorized. Astrid almost felt like she had no problems awaiting and a clear future on the horizon. Provided her parents didn't start hassling her about marriage.

She decided to stop by Gobber's workshop. since Hiccup had passed she and the other teens had been expected to step up and help Gobber in the forge. What was once a one-man job filled by Hiccup became an almost five-man one thanks to their joint lack of education on blacksmithing. Eventually Snotlout and the twins had bludged helping completely, sticking with just their usual chores and tasks. But Fishlegs and Astrid liked the atmosphere of Gobber's growing forge and Gobber had become quieter since Hiccup died, a helpful ear or even sometimes a therapeutic storyteller.

Today was no different, and when she entered she saw Fishlegs cooped up against a desk with some papers in front of him, likely blueprints and such. Gobber himself hadn't fired the forge for the day, instead doing some leatherwork on a few swords and axes.

"you need anything done?" she asked, leaning against a table.

Gobber looked up, "not much, lass. I'm waiting for the crowd to die down so I can do some trading with Johan," he picked a quiver up from the ground, "reckon you could fletch these arrows for me?"

"no problem." She took up another separate corner of the forge- bigger and more open than it was three years prior- and started the intricate task of adding fletching to the arrows. It was awkward in the start, but her hands warmed up to it and soon she got into a rhythm.

The sky darkened quickly and Astrid kicked herself for not checking out Johan's ship, surely the crowd would have died down by now. Regardless, his boat would still be there the next day and it was almost impossible for him to run out of interesting wares.

So she made her way to the great hall- after standing up and stretching the knots in her back out- and was greeted by a joyous celebration so loud it was a wonder it couldn't be heard from every island around them.

The mead casks were out and a hunting group had gone into the forest and brought back plenty of fresh meat. She was quite sure she smelled the tell-tale spices that Fishlegs parents covered the important meals with and her mouth watered at the same time as her stomach started growling.

She filled her plate and settled down at the table with Fishlegs, the twins and Snotlout, who were already well into conversation, but considering Snotlout's dramatic air she picked up on the topic quick.

"look, I'm telling you, it'll happen soon. I'm almost eighteen, and Stoick's not getting any younger." He mumbled that last part from the side of his mouth acting as if the hooligan tribe still subscribed to the old ways of not acknowledging your chief's eventual demise, "he'll name me his heir in place of Hiccup," an added sneer at his cousin's name, "in no time."

"suuuuure he will," Ruffnut drew out, a smirk evident as she leaned to her brother and winked.

"I thought chiefs were actually supposed to be good at leading people," Fishlegs said, an eye roll so large Astrid could almost imagine his eyes popping out and bouncing across the table. Squish-squish-schlop! as they plopped onto the twins mashed potatoes.

But no, it didn't happen. So she was stuck with this dull conversation.

Snotlout groaned, "just cause you haven't seen my amazing leadership skills doesn't mean they don't exist."

"you can't be awarded for something you haven't done yet, Snotlout." Astrid drawled.

"well who else is going to do it? I'm the closest relative of an heir-age."

"that's not a thing," Fishlegs looked at Astrid like 'when can we leave him on outcast island forever?'

If she was honest she was asking herself the same question.

"whatever Fishlegs, you keep your... smarts, and logic or whatever you call them-"

"basic mental functions,"

"and I'll keep my intuition and gut feelings," he continued over Fishlegs interjection, "and we'll see who's right!"

"me."

"shut up!"

Astrid laughed and looked to Fishlegs, preferring his company over Snotlout's. at least she could hold an interesting conversation with him. Snotlout just wanted to flirt. The twins went off on some tirade about a mace they bought from Johan and Snotlout angrily ate his food while calling the twins muttonheads.

So the night was rather normal till someone stood up on a table and started a drinking song.

It wasn't particularly odd for that to happen, what was odd was that it was being sung by Johan's ship-hand friend and every other line seemed like it was poorly translated from another language. The man also held an accent Astrid couldn't recognise- although, she couldn't recognise many, seeing as she hadn't heard much.

But he danced along the table in his own little world, his drink tight in his fist as he sang;

"let it now be taught,

If a man is as he ought,

Alleluia!

The beer will sing:

Res Miranda!

Wonderful thing!

"drink, if there's beer in your jar-

It's far to the sun, from the stars

Drink it well, drink it deep.

Out of the barrel flows the beer,

Semper clara

Always clear."

He did a twirl at one end of the table, some of the onlookers began to clap a beet as he tapped one on the wood. it was like an elaborate dance, the song made with his movements.

"drink your beer deep, drink it well

I'll drink mine in parallel

But take great care,

Don't leave your beer by the fire rail!

Fit corrupta

For it will stale!"

He shot his drink back, quick, head flicking with a jerk. He lifted his arms up and whooped, tapping on the table to a tune that fit with the constant beat of his audience's drumming applause.

"if the rich throw a riotous party

Let us too then be noisy and hearty:

To your good health!"

He turned to Stoick, sitting at his table, and raised his now empty mug, not pausing at all in his song.

"bless the good neighbour with rations to eat

Carna Sumpta

Take up the meat!"

He started a kind of instrumental break, his tool being his feet. he moved from one end of the table to the other then came back to the middle, setting his mug down before picking up the dance again. barely interrupted.

"as for the innkeeper, sweet Madonna

Who treats all her guests with regal honour,

Naught strike her blind

Good drink and food most generously

Hec Predicta;

More worthy than women before her is she!"

He turned and Astrid briefly made eye contact with him, she snapped her head to the table quickly however. She didn't need attention from some foreigner who couldn't compose himself while drunk.

However, Ruffnut was trying to catch his attention, easily done considering their table's location. There was only one table between them and the people previously sitting there had moved, there was a clear path to them

He seemed to have noticed that, considering his easy grin and the leap he made across to the table between them.

"let it be seen

the ale will sing to us

Alleluia!

Whoever drinks some,

May he be as he should,

Thing of wonder!"

And he was still dancing.

"now let us drink to the queen

In pints and quarts, so we won't be called mean.

Our cask won't run dry,

All through the night it's full of good mirth

Puerpera,

And giving birth."

He leaped to their table, feet moving wildly. Snotlout cleared his food from the stranger's path and Fishlegs grumbled about the unhygienic act of dancing on a table.

"full of joy,

Let the chorus of the faithful sing,

Alleluia!

A spotless womb brings forth

The king of kings,

Thing of wonder!"

He tapped a final rhythm, finishing with a stomp to the wood table, a smug look bright on his face.

The onlooking Vikings applauded with an alcohol-induced fervour, calling for an encore. The stranger laughed, bowed, drank in the attention. He seemed to be made for it. but he bowed out not after long, plopping to the ground in front of the table. He spun and leaned against it, head barely a few inches from Fishlegs.

Beside Astrid, Ruffnut grinned and leaned forward till she was the same distance away. Next to his sister, Tuffnut leaned on his hand and waved. Snotlout seemed about as unamused as Fishlegs.

"hi there," the stranger said, breath short and deep, "name's Verlin."

Verlin sat with them and ate while telling stories and being generally the most dramatic person Astrid had ever met.

Fishlegs seemed to warm up to him because he started ranting about where he came from- some apparently very big Empire called Rome, Astrid didn't believe him, if there was an Empire that big they'd know about it. Snotlout seemed okay with him because apparently Rome had no shortage of interesting battles, leading to Snot hanging onto every word as Verlin recounted the story of some campaign or another he went on. Tuffnut thought he was almost as awesome as his cousin Gruffnut and Ruffnut spent quite a while fawning over the guy's tanned skin, square jaw and silver hair.

Astrid was grumpily dealing with his presence until-

"and then we both scrambled onto a nearby dragon's back and skedaddled outta there!"

"you got on a dragon's back?" she asked, sneer spreading across her face, "sure, you know I think you're full of crap."

"what do you mean?" he chuckled, "you guys don't fly dragons around here?"

Fishleg's eyes blew wide and Snotlout spat out his drink, the twins looked at each other then to the stranger with a look of clear confusion, mouths gaping.

"no, we don't fly dragons. They're monsters that destroy our crops and have killed hundreds of us." Astrid explained, as if she were speaking to a child.

Verlin blinked, "what island did you say this was again?" he asked, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Berk." Answered Snotlout.

"oh... Landica Futuo."

Verlin stumbled up from the table and scrambled over to Johan, Astrid followed, curious as to this strange man's drunken idiocy. The others were close behind.

"this is Berk." Verlin said, eyes wide, when Johan turned to him.

"yes, I told you that."

"no you didn't," Verlin whispered, noticing the few men Johan had been spinning tall-tales to.

"yes I did, I told you 'Verlin, this is Berk, so you better be on your best behaviour and not mention anything stupid', what did you do?"

"uh," Verlin glanced at Astrid, "Johan remember when I told you not to tell me vital information when I'm drunk and definitely make sure to tell me where we are a couple times because locations fly over my head?"

"yes."

"I was being serious."

"you told them about dragons didn't you?" Johan said flatly, looking to Astrid and the teens, "he told you about dragon flying didn't he?"

"he's joking right?" Fishlegs asked.

"or drunkenly stupid?" Snotlout added.

Johan sighed, "go tell you-know-who what you did." He said to Verlin, who nodded and left the hall, "he was telling the truth."

"what?!"

"Johan, what is going on here?" Stoick asked, mug in hand and eyes following Verlin out.

"my temporary ship-hand has spilled some rather heavy secrets to Miss Astrid and her friends."

"Oh?" Stoick asked, eyes narrowing on the trader, "what kind of secrets?"

"perfectly safe ones, however unusual that is. It does mean that I will have to explain a few things for you, because I may as well now that most of the truth is in the open." Johan sat, "Verlin is from a place in the south called Rome, and the people who live there fly dragons."

Astrid lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling.

'Rome was visited three years ago by a man some have decided to call The Dragon Master. He earned this title because he had discovered how to tame dragons.'

Johan's words still echoed around in her head. she couldn't comprehend it. the idea that these Romans could invite those draconic beasts into their lives and treat them not only like pets but like friends. It was ridiculous. Impossible. Incomprehensible. Unfathomable.

'this Dragon Master was actually from here in the north where the dragons were more of a problem. Almost was a Viking even, till he left. Unlike most of you he didn't subscribe to your... hateful opinions on dragons.'

But Johan said it all with such belief, it had to be true. And Verlin had said it like it was no big deal.

It was crazy.

But even Stoick couldn't disprove what Johan said. Every query, every issue he could think of, every intricacy he brought up was answered and explained away by Johan. It all fit together. In a way there was no way it couldn't be true. But that didn't make Astrid want to believe it. she hated dragons. Had been raised and taught that way from day one. She would not, could not and should not change her mind, these romans and there preposterous lifestyle be damned. She was a Viking, not some prissy flower-crown wearing simpleton who thought monsters with sharp teeth, claws, fire breath and hunger for humans were a tameable pet to fly around and snuggle with.

No.

And Astrid didn't miss Johan's statement that the hatred of dragons was theirs not ours, as in he had long-since dropped such notions. How could he betray the gods and his people like that? he may be a nomadic tradesman, but he was still a Viking.

Whatever, her beliefs and experience trumped the mere words of some stranger from a so-called empire who probably had never seen a battlefield in his life.

But her thoughts snagged on something Johan said.

'he trained a night fury... the fact he survived the encounter to me is a miracle, the idea that he befriended it laughable, but it's true I swear it.'

A night fury.

It was likely the same night fury she'd found the scales of in Berk's cove. Likely the same night fury that had killed one of her village's own. Likely the same night fury that left her chief depressed and wounded, a whisper of his old self.

No, she would not accept the word of someone who would dare ally themselves with that creature.

But her mind twisted over the words anyway, rolled them over in her mind and analysed them from every angle.

This dragon master appeared in Rome not long after Hiccup passed, and the way Johan talked about him and his dragon made it sound they had been together for a while. But if this night fury had been tamed then why would it have killed Hiccup? Hiccup wouldn't have attacked it, surely. Some of her fellow Berkians believed Hiccup had gone hunting to give himself confidence for the fight the next day, but that made no sense. Astrid didn't know Hiccup well but she knew he wouldn't have done that. he had to have been walking, maybe drawing a tree or investigating the fish in the cove's pond or something.

So why did the fury kill him if it was tame and unthreatened?

This dragon master surely wouldn't have ordered Hiccup be killed, he seemed like some philanthropist that wanted people to realise dragons could be their friends.

Of course, it could have just been a different Night Fury...

No, there were so few around it couldn't be. and the way Johan tip-toed around the subject made it sound like he knew more that he was holding back. it had to be the same dragon.

But why..?

'this Dragon Master was actually from here in the north where the dragons were more of a problem. Almost was a Viking even, till he left.'

Almost was.

Almost.

'I hit a night fury... it's not like the last few times, dad, I mean I really actually hit it, it went down just off raven point...'

Raven Point... that wasn't far from the cove. Wasn't far at all.

'let's get a search party out there.'

Hiccup let it all go very easily for someone wanting to prove himself. He never mentioned it again.

Surely he'd have gone looking for the dragon...

'wow, he's better than you ever were...'

He'd suddenly known everything about dragons. Everything. Their likes and dislikes, things that no Viking had ever discovered before. He wasn't even scared of them, she'd seen him literally scratch a dragon like a cat. How did he know to do that? no one had done it before, getting that close to a dragon, alive, and being nice to it? it was unheard of. It wouldn't have been in the book of dragons.

So how did he know to do it?

How did he...

Astrid stood from her bed so suddenly her head spun a little, but regardless she sprinted downstairs and towards the dock.

Johan had some explaining to do.

"you need to be more careful, Verlin. Hiccup has said he doesn't want them knowing where he is, it's best they think he's dead." Johan said.

"I know, I know," Verlin grumbled, taking a long sip of water, "it slipped out. I've been on a dry spell lately, I'm a bit more loose-lipped."

Johan sighed, "it's okay, they would have found out as much as I told them soon anyway, I'm not the only merchant who makes it this far, and with those Grimborn brothers out of the way we merchants will be a lot less worried to sail about wherever we wish."

"you're welcome." Verlin chuckled, "gods those two were ridiculous. You know they actually put a bounty on Hiccup? we made sure it was shut down pretty quick and it seemed to be more of a ploy of Vigo's but it was a worrisome few weeks."

"well, I suppose master Hiccup has a few more stories to tell me."

"how about you tell me one first?"

Johan and Verlin turned to find Astrid on the gangplank to the ship, arms crossed.

"Miss Astrid! We didn't hear you coming!" Johan said, shooting a worried glance to Verlin.

"that was the point," she dropped down to the deck, "tell me who the dragon master is."

"I have no idea Miss Astrid, I've never really had a chance to meet the man-"

Astrid picked up a sword from his wares and held it to his chest, "try again."

"heh, uh, well, you see, it's uh, well, it's quite a, um, long story."

"he's Hiccup." Verlin deadpanned, placing his cup on the table he was leaning against, "although I think you'd already figured that out, yes?"

Astrid put the sword back, "yes, now tell me exactly what in Hel's name he's doing in Rome flying dragons of all creatures."

"Johan already told you," Verlin said, frowning, "he left because living on his own with one of those 'monstrous creatures' you Vikings hate so much seemed more appealing to him than living another day on Berk."

"what would you know?" Astrid scowled.

"plenty, seeing as I'm one of the lucky bastards to call him a friend." He sneered back, "now if you tell a single person on this island about this I will hunt you down and drop you from the highest cloud I can find into the northern sea, understand?"

Astrid glared, eyes narrowed at the man she'd thought a drunken delinquent, "fine."

Overnight and through the day Astrid thought over... everything.

She would not understand Hiccup's decisions relating dragons, not ever. She couldn't. but she could... respect them, she supposed. Enough to not run straight to Stoick and spill everything. She wanted to, though. The chief had never been the same, never really gotten over his son's death. But he didn't want his father to know, and she supposed it had something to do with his own inner turmoil and self-degradations. She could respect his wishes. She would. Considering how badly she treated him for so many years he deserved that respect, at least.

And what she could understand? Why he'd left.

When her uncle had been killed by the flightmare and her entire family's reputation came under question she'd felt so embarrassed, so miniscule in the world, so small and easily harmed. It didn't help that she was mourning over her uncle. How so many villagers could stoop so low to whisper about her family when they were going through such a painful loss was still infuriating to her. And when the people she called friends started treating her the same she'd wanted to run away. She'd even packed a bag and run off into the woods, claiming she was going to live like a wild fae-child in the forest.

But things had changed for her. People had apologised, made it up to her and her parents.

Hiccup? it kept happening. For fifteen years. And even his father, his parent, the person who was supposed to have his back and love him unconditionally, was adding to the pain.

She could understand it just fine.

Overnight and through the day she thought of what she'd do if she woke up, five years old again, with a chance to do it over. She'd definitely be nicer to Hiccup. she'd also care more about Fishlegs and his books. And Ruff and Tuffs' pranks. Maybe she'd even listen to Snotlout more often, but that was a stretch.

She couldn't go back in time, it wasn't possible. But she could still think of it and make change now. It was too late for Hiccup, but her other friends? She still had a chance to support them before they fell apart in the wake of the village's insurmountable expectations.

But she couldn't not say sorry to Hiccup. not when she had a chance to. He wasn't in Valhalla or Vanaheim or even Helheim. She could say everything she needed to. She didn't have to wait till she met him again in the afterlife, far too young and with so much potential. No. he was still alive. But there was no way he'd want to talk to her.

So she wrote it down instead.

Astrid made her way down to the docks, knowing that she would find Johan preparing to ship out. She did not realise she'd see him patting a terrible terror absentmindedly whilst reading a letter.

"Johan?"

He jumped and indiscreetly hid the letter behind him, scaring off the terror in the process. "Miss Astrid! What- uh- what brings you here? Again?"

She held up her own letter which she'd taken almost the whole day trying to figure out how best to word, "I believe you have contact with Hiccup?"

"uh, yes." He looked around, placing his letter on a nearby table, "but you better keep that quiet because I don't think master Hiccup would appreciate you spilling his secret." He looked around again, "and even though Master Verlin is not currently present he is rather good at finding things out when he wants."

"I don't intend to, it's his secret to keep and his mess to clean up when it eventually comes to light. trust me it will," she added when Johan raised an eyebrow, "I was wondering if you could give this to him?"

Johan took the letter, choosing not to unfold and read it lest he have his head chopped off. "I will see to it."

"thank you."