Rapunzel had been living in a tower her whole life.

She was not a prisoner she was sure. She was well fed (in fact, her Mother might comment she's a bit too well-fed) with enough fruit in stock to last her a lifetime. She was not messy, her tower house an elaborate plumbing system for her comfort. She even had magic. Healing magic that rests withing the tangles of her hair so that she'd never have to worry about getting hurt, or injured. In fact, she had all she'd ever need inside her tower. And yet, despite this, she felt incomplete.

For all her glowing magic hair and endless supply of homemade candles, Rapunzel could want nothing more than to feel the grass between her feet, and the water soaked around her ankles. Once she even dared to ask her Mother about the outside world. Her mother had always told her to keep quiet about these matters of course, and to be content and to be modest, and she obliged as she always had back then throughout the 5 years of her life but this one particular evening she had finally decided to ask.

"Why can't I go outside?"

And her Mother had simply replied, "The outside world is dangerous, flower. The people there will hunt you, take advantage of you the moment they can."

The little girl's eyes widened, "Is that really true?" she asked her Mother warily.

"Of course it is! Why would I ever lie to you, dear? You must stay here, where you're safe, where I can protect you."

She believed him. She believed him still 13 years later when her hair had overgrown down the length of her tower, and the hem of her dress no longer covered the balls of her ankles.

She longed to feel free, to run outside, and to chase the horizon where it would never end. If only she could, if only she would.

But she won't. Wouldn't. Can't.

And so she sat there gazing out of her tower. Waiting for a day to end, for the night to come and for dust to settle. Just as she had done over and over again all those years ago.

Just waiting. The very word sent her spiraling down a wave of fear, greater than the most horrific tales of human evil her Mother could ever conjure.

He knew he was lost. Just great. Just excellent.

Getting lost wasn't anything new to him. In fact on any normal day, he would've welcomed getting lost. Getting lost was about learning new things, finding new adventures, seeing greener pastures. It was the fear and the excitement of adventure mixed into one boiling pot of writhing anxiety. And most importantly, getting lost was a handy excuse to run away from your problems. A habit he found himself falling into a bit too often as the years go by.

But now wasn't the time to get lost. In fact, now was the most inconvenient time to get lost. Because now, he was supposed to be halfway towards Berk and on his way to his official chief-crowning ceremony.

The whole of Berk was invited to celebrate. Heck, he heard even the sheep were invited to attend. As second-in-command of the late chief, Gobber had organised everything (Gobber! Of all Vikings!) though as expected, Astrid did give a huge hand in the preparations as well.

And now he wasn't even going to be there.

He could just imagine their disappointed scowls, their disbelief. Their future chief couldn't even attend a simple appointment, what kind of future would Berk expect under his rule? What would his father think?

Sensing his rider's anxiety, the dragon sniffed and nudged at his shoulder so that he'd almost been thrown completely to the ground from the strength.

"Toothless!" He cried, waving his arms for balance. Toothless stopped and laughed that gummy smile of his.

He shook his head, smiling. Dragons really are something.

The good thing about this situation is, he wasn't alone. He could at least use Toothless to have a grasp of where he is. Maybe if they fly high enough, they might be able to see the ocean in the horizon, or else a familiar landmark to lead their way home.

"Well, walking's not going to get us anywhere, bud." He looked at Toothless, "I can't find where our camp is, and there's no use looking for it anymore since we're already late. I'll just tell them we lost the gifts on our way home or something, they'd believe that won't they?"

Toothless growled. He wasn't sure if that was from his throat or his stomach.

Why did he even decided a week off Berk was a good idea in the first place? To be fair, it was Astrid that insisted him to go. Astrid thought he needed the break. In her words, his 'last breath of fresh air before the weight of chiefdom comes falling down his shoulders'. Or maybe it was his fault. Maybe he was just looking for a way to escape from all that responsibility?

Gods, hopefully no one catches me thinking that.

"C'mon Toothless." He called to his dragon, "Let's go- Toothless?"

But the dragon had disappeared. All that was left was the green that surrounded him, and the set of claw prints imprinted on the grass.

The rider groaned, Not now!

He followed his companion's footprints into the denser part of the woods until he found the familiar mass of black hulked awkwardly behind the shrubbery.

"Toothless!" He hissed, exasperated. "What were you-"

And that was when it hit him.

He collapsed face first on the grass, the toll of something metal ringing behind his ears.