Originally, I'd wanted to post this update on my birthday last week. But that didn't work out, too much RL chaos. Ah, well, have the update now. ^^

Another interlude? you may wonder. Yep, it's another interlude. And not the last one coming during the next chapters. There are a lot of things happening behind the main viewpoint of Hiccup and Astrid, and they need attention. This one contains some hints that are important to me. And I finally got around to write some Dagret fluff. :D

Also, many people commented guesses about what's happened there to Hiccup at the end of the previous chapter. I'm sorry, but we're not returning directly to Hiccup here, so you still won't get an answer. All I can say is... that so far, nobody guessed right. O:) Also, there's a hint I gave on the ATOV-Discord server, so it only seems fair to give it here, too. I might be pulling a WIMTBC here...

***Shoutouts***

Once again, a HUGE Thank you to those who're still reading this monster of a fic and especially to those who're still commenting. My life is a total mess these days, but every single comment brings a smile to my face.

To KaijuKnight: Don't worry! I'm no fan at all of the currently so popular way of killing off important characters. This story comes without the Major Character Death warning.

To rockjadyn: xD Your comment made me laugh so hard, I had tears in my eyes. Thank you so much! And yes... more cliffies to come for sure. 8)

To AnakinMousestalker: We've already communicated through PM, but I still like to answer reviews in the shoutouts, so here we go. ^^ First of all, I'm sooo happy you enjoyed this story (and others, too). Further, I think we've already covered this, but still, for anyone else who might be reading this. ^^" This is not meant to be our real medieval world and not the real nordic religion, either. It's an original setting inspired by those real concepts, but nothing more. Some elements fit, others do not. And yes, I always listen to music when I write. But even that is not always enough to get me into the right mood and state of mind.

. o O o .

Interlude 7: Secrets And Plans

?

His steps echoed off the empty corridors, hard and deafening. He had to hold himself back from outright running toward his goal. It wouldn't be appropriate for a man of his rank. But even worse, such a run would surely draw the attention of a guard or servant, and secrecy was vital to his every action.

But, oh, he couldn't wait to get back to his private room! The piece of paper he carried hidden in his inner pocket seemed to weigh as much as a millstone, seemed hot like a coal, burning a hole right into his skin. If anyone knew about this message…

But no. Who was left to notice, anyway? A smug smile tugged at his lips. As much as he loathed the latest developments, they'd still given him the perfect excuse.

Once he'd reached his room, he narrowed his eyes at the servant hustling about. The young woman was only cleaning dust, but still. That was more company than he was comfortable with at this moment.

"Thank you, but that is enough for today. You may leave now," he dismissed her in a composed voice.

The young woman looked up in surprise, then hastily bowed. "As you wish, your Grace."

He wandered over to where a carafe of wine stood, and poured himself a glass, watching the serving girl from the corner of his eyes. He put on a show of not paying her any attention as she left, but as soon as the door closed behind her, he placed the glass back onto the sideboard, the wine untouched. This was not the time to cloud his mind with a drink.

Impatiently, he rushed over to where a fire was burning in the hearth, low but consistent, and threw a fresh log in. Then he pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket. It was small, the writing clipped.

"We agree with your assessment of the situation. D.M. has outlived their usefulness. You may dispose of them however you please."

A satisfied grin spread across his face. Finally! Content with the content of this message, he went to get the glass of wine from earlier and watched as the note burned to nothing but ash in the hearth. This person had been a thorn in his side for years on end, but now, he could finally use his influence to do something about that. Their days were numbered.

. o O o .

Dagur

Dagur tried to be as gentle as possible, he really did. Even so, he couldn't prevent Eret from hissing and wincing at nearly every motion. And he felt sorry for it, he really did! He didn't want to cause his boyfriend pain, not like this, at least. But most of all, he just found it hilarious.

"I can't remember you ever being so whiny," he said in a cheerful voice as he applied the healing salve Fishlegs had given him for the wound on Eret's chest.

Eret grunted. "I wouldn't be complaining if you were just a little more careful," he threw back, but Dagur didn't buy his overly offended attitude.

"No, I don't think that's it," he replied. "I mean, come on! Do you remember the brawl we once started? In that little tavern in the middle of nowhere?"

"You mean the brawl you started," Eret threw in, but Dagur opted not to listen to him, lost in fond memories.

"And do you remember how that coward called over some twenty of his friends because he didn't want to face us both? Okay, maybe one against two wasn't exactly fair, but… twenty? Talk about fairness." He cackled. Oh, that day had been fun.

Eret rolled his eyes. "But you remember they didn't actually beat us up, right?"

"They didn't?" Dagur's brows furrowed. "Huh. I could have sworn I woke up the next day with a pretty mean headache. Didn't someone smash a bottle on my head?"

Now, Eret chuckled. "Yeah, you woke up with a headache alright. But not because we lost a fight. One of them eventually realised who we were, then they apologised and every single one of them insisted on ordering a drink for us. And while I was sensible enough to quit after four or five beers, you insisted on drinking them all, mine included. Hence the headache."

Dagur frowned, but then just shrugged. This didn't line up with his memories… but he couldn't say he had anything to dispute Eret's version, either. However, ultimately, he didn't care either way. "Whatever," he said cheerfully. "That's not the point, anyway. The point is, that you're awfully whiny, and this wound isn't even that bad. When did you become such a wimp? Or…" An insinuating grin spread across his face. "Or is it just that you enjoyed it more when it was Hiccup tending to your wound? He sure seems to have some gentle hands."

At that, Eret laughed. "Wasn't it you who made joking comments about how he might end up with Hiccup if Swanja and I were to get married? I think I recall hearing something like that. And it didn't sound too sorry, either."

"Eh," Dagur waved Eret's words off, knowing it was nothing but lighthearted banter, anyway. "Well, I won't deny that Hiccup is cute in his own way. I mean, Thor, that boy has an ass! Wait… did I say that out loud? Ah, whatever… Yeah, he's cute, but he's not my type." He threw Eret a wink, which made him fondly roll his eyes in return. "But back to the point! I can't remember you ever being so whiny when he tended to your wound, and this time, I was sober. Mostly."

Suddenly, a smirk played around Eret's lips, making Dagur cock his head in curiosity. "Maybe I was just hoping you'd put in the extra effort and kiss it better." He peered up at Dagur, a twinkle in his eyes.

Dagur laughed. "Oh, all right. I see."

Without warning, he jumped onto the bed, tackling Eret and pressing him down into the sheets. Play-fighting and wrestling for positions was always great foreplay, and also this was an excellent test of how sturdy the bed was. If it couldn't hold up with them, they were better to replace it now instead of in the middle of the night.

Eret grunted as if in complaint, but didn't really resist and even placed his hands on Dagur's upper arms, rubbing over the fabric of his tunic to feel the muscles beneath.

"If this is what you want…"

Dagur shifted until he was straddling Eret's hip, and with a grin leaned down to kiss the skin around Eret's wound. He was more gentle than their usual energetic making out, but Eret seemed to appreciate it. He was humming, the rumbling in his chest pleasant against Dagur's lips, and he placed his hands on Dagur's shoulders, caressing, feeling him.

Content with the slower pace for once, Dagur enjoyed this form of treating Eret's wound far more for a while before he eventually moved further down. His lips found a pert nipple, circling around it teasingly before they closed around it in some fun mixture of a kiss, a bite, and suckling.

"Nng, Dagur," Eret groaned. His hands grew tense around his shoulders, fingers digging deeper in obvious longing.

"You all right there, Chippy?" Dagur mouthed against Eret's skin, grinning when he felt something poke against his thigh.

Before Eret could reply, however, a knock came from the door, making them both groan in annoyance.

"That's got to be the food Hiccup ordered to be brought here for us," Eret muttered. He rubbed his face, then reached for his tunic after Dagur had climbed off him.

Dagur waited until he was dressed again—even as he internally bemoaned not being allowed to ogle his half-naked lover any longer—then opened the door. Just like Eret had predicted, it was a servant carrying a heavy-looking tray with three portions of roasted meat and vegetables.

"Your meals, Sirs. Hopefully, they will be to your liking," the boy said cheerfully. There was a hint of awe on his face. It was an expression Dagur had become used to, even as he couldn't understand where the fuss about his person was coming from. He might have gotten born into an important position, but that didn't mean he was automatically special.

"Also, the inn-keeper wanted me to ask whether the accommodations are to your satisfaction," the boy went on.

Dagur had to suppress a smirk. It would have been way more satisfying if you hadn't interrupted us, he thought to himself. Outwardly, he nodded and gave the boy a—hopefully—easy smile. "Aye, everything is all right. Thank you."

The boy nodded, awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but then excused himself.

The food turned out to be surprisingly good. Not as well-seasoned as the meals they'd got at the castle over the past months, but still better than what he'd expected. Which was good. They had to eat enough to cover for Hiccup's absence, after all. But then, how much would a scrawny guy like him eat?

"Do you think he'll be all right?" he asked a little while later, chewing on the last bite of tender meat from Hiccup's plate.

With a slight grimace, Eret put down his fork and sighed. "I hope so," he muttered. "If it doesn't, if this plan doesn't work… then I don't know what to do anymore."

For a moment, those words dampened Dagur's mood as well. Yeah… If they couldn't get Hiccup into a position where he was eligible for Swanja, then she would have to marry Eret after all. The thought on its own didn't hurt as much as it did in the beginning. Strategically, Eret and Swanja would still make a good match, he could admit that much. And the reminder that his and Eret's relationship couldn't last had only made him appreciate this small reprieve even more.

But for Swanja… If she and Hiccup couldn't be together, then it would break her, break both of them; the past weeks had shown that clearly enough. And watching her wilt and die inside would be so much worse than to eventually give up on Eret. For one, he was prepared. For the other? Never!

But then, sitting here and brooding wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Eh, I bet he's already found one of those beasts and is just about to build a trap or something. He's smart. And motivated."

Eret snorted, a weak smile tugging at his lips. "That's certainly true. And I don't really have doubts, you know? If there's anyone who can pull this off, it's that stubborn idiot of a Haddock. I just wish… I don't know, I wish we'd already be back and everything's clear. I want these uncertainties to be over."

"Ah, but that's life." Dagur leaned back in his chair, a wide grin on his face. "If you already knew how everything turns out… where would be the fun in that?"

Eret snorted, but shook his head. "As much as I agree; in this, I wouldn't mind a little less excitement."

Dagur threw his boyfriend a thoughtful look, then jumped up on his feet and sauntered over toward him. "Maybe it's just that this is the wrong kind of excitement."

With a wide grin, he sat down on Eret's lap. It made the chair groan beneath their combined weight, but Dagur couldn't care less. Wasn't that what people expected of them? For the high lords to trash their rooms and pay handsomely to cover it up? Surely some people thought like that, right? Better not disappoint them.

"I have an idea," he purred into Eret's ear. "How about we accept that there's nothing left for us to do but wait, and make the best of it? And if you keep worrying… well, I can be very distracting, you know?"

He ground down against where he could feel Eret's cock through his trousers, quickly growing hard in excitement. And at first, he thought he'd been convincing enough to persuade Eret so he would let go of his worries. His large hands landed on Dagur's hips, bucking up against him as their lips met in a searing kiss. The same strength that on other occasions could reign in even the wildest of horses now held him tight, helping him move as breathing and thinking became secondary.

"We should… nnng, fuck! We should get to the bed or this chair is going to be nothing but firewood in a minute."

There! He could be sensible. Sometimes.

But as proud as he was of this fact, in the next moment he already regretted having said anything.

Eret grunted, something like a pressed laugh, then used his strength to hold him still instead. "Actually, we should take care of a few other things before we get carried away like this."

"No, no, no. Moving over to the bed is enough sensibility for now. Everything else can wait."

Now, Eret laughed for real and even leaned up to kiss Dagur once again. "Mmh, I know why I love you," he hummed, but then sighed regretfully. "But as much as I'd like to go along with this plan of yours… I know where these usually lead us. And without Hiccup being around, we need to take care of our horses. We can't let some unassuming grooms risk their lives feeding Crusher or Squish now, can we?"

Grudgingly, Dagur had to agree. "Okay, fine," he grumbled, and pushed himself back up on his own legs. He held his hand out to help Eret up as well. "Let's get that over and done with and then—"

He broke off when Eret grabbed his arm but then grunted, his face twisting into a pained grimace and his free hand flying to his injured chest.

"Oooor... how about I go and take care of the horses while you stay here and rest. No, no talking back here," he said as he put his hand over Eret's mouth when he attempted to object. "I can do that, okay? And I'd rather have you not constantly in pain afterwards. Now, shush! Lie down. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Not giving Eret the chance to object, he turned and left the room without a pause. As he got to the door, he rolled his eyes a little as Eret called a reminder to be cautious with the horses. Of course, he would be cautious! He could be responsible—if he wanted to. Maybe he would never be like Eret who always had the well-being of those depending on him at the forefront of his mind, but he could try. He had to…

Once in the corridor outside their rooms, Dagur cursed under his breath. Too soon, he chided himself. He at least should have waited for his erection to go down again. Well, it couldn't be helped now. He would not go back in there and admit his mistake. He could just wait here, right?

Sighing, he leaned against the wooden wall. He really wasn't good at this, was he? At being responsible and all that? There was no doubt in him that, one day, Eret would become a great leader to his House, no matter how much his grandfather, the old goat, complained. He was smart, reliable, sincere. He truly cared for those around him and surely was going to work hard to do whatever was necessary to make the life of his people better. He always knew what to do.

Dagur, however? He wasn't like that. His father had never voiced even the slightest complaint, but Dagur knew. He knew that he would be a poor leader at best. It wasn't that he didn't want this kind of responsibility. He would just never live up to it. If there was just any other way, he'd abdicate and leave the title and responsibility to someone else, anyone else.

Except that the only other candidate was Heather's unborn child.

With a suppressed groan, he let his head thump against the wall. Yeah, if there was anyone else… But he would not take away his sister's baby. He'd given his promise, and there was no way he would ever break it. No, he just had to do his best and hope that it proved to be enough.

If only the stupid law would allow for one of his siblings to take his place. There was no doubt at all that they were their father's children, his blood. And especially Aren, who was only short of a year younger than Dagur, would be a much better choice. As a Prestr of Odin, he was studying politics and strategy, and in general was so much better at ordinary things like just plain dealing with people. Or keeping his temper...

Dagur let out another sigh. At least Aren had agreed to become his advisor one day. So there was hope that Dagur wouldn't ruin the entire Grand Dukedom within a year.

"Well, at least these gloomy thoughts served one purpose…" he muttered to himself, glancing down along his body. He pushed himself off the wall and finally headed for the inn's stables where the grooms welcomed him with a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Sir Dagur! You're already here, good," one of the younger grooms exclaimed as he grabbed his arm and pulled him along. It made Dagur smile; the carefree straightforwardness of the boy was refreshing. "With all the visitors that are coming, we wanted to move your horses to other, more secluded boxes, just like Sir Eret had suggested. But we couldn't find his squire anywhere, and—"

"It's all right, I'll help there," Dagur interrupted him. "Sir Eret's squire is taking a well-deserved break, better leave him to it." Eventually, people would notice Hiccup's absence, but it couldn't hurt to cover up his departure for as long as possible.

He followed the boy to where Crusher and Squish stood next to each other, and with the usual combination of cooing and humming, he entered Squish's stall without any complications.

"Right, buddy, it's just me," he murmured, and patted his neck as the large stallion greeted him with a nudge to his chest. He wasn't sure whether making those noises was even necessary for him anymore or whether Squish recognised him by now without them, but he rather stayed on the safer side. "We're going to move you to another stall, somewhere where it's a little quieter. How does that sound?"

Squish gave a snort as if in agreement which made Dagur chuckle. Calmed down now, it only took a few minutes to guide him to the other stall, where Dagur left him with an additional apple as a treat.

"Don't go in there unless there's no other option," he warned the grooms. "Better get me or Sir Eret… or his squire. He didn't get the nickname Squish for nothing." Suppressing a grin at the almost scared looks on the boys' faces, he walked back to get Crusher as well. This wasn't so hard, he pondered as he opened the black stallion's stall, again cooing at him to keep him calm. See, he could be responsible when the situation called for it. These were only two horses and not an entire Grand Dukedom, but still. He could do this!

Dagur realised his mistake too late.

He heard the apprehensive gasps from the grooms behind him and even saw how Crusher moved restlessly as he entered the stall. But, too sure of himself and his skills, he hadn't paid it any mind. After all, he knew the noises to calm these horses by heart by now.

Except that those didn't work on Crusher.

It happened in the blink of an eye and Dagur barely caught any of it. Crusher whinnied, the grooms shouted, and pain exploded in his right foot. It raced up his leg, momentarily rendering him blind, unoriented. He didn't even know how he'd made it out of the stall.

There were screams around him, calls for a healer. People were running around everywhere. Dagur only registers it throughout a weird haze as every time he tried to get up and tell them he was fine, a fresh wave of pain washed through him and let black spots explode behind his eyes.

"Oh, by Odin's balls, how did that happen?"

Eret's voice. Dagur would recognise it everywhere.

"Wrong noise," he pressed through gritted teeth. He wondered when someone had sent for Eret or how he'd got here so quickly, but didn't really care either way.

Eret snorted. He was careful as he cut Dagur's boot open, but it still hurt.

"That doesn't look good."

Another voice. Dagur blinked up and saw a woman in the robes of Freya's order. Her face looked younger than her greying hair made her seem to be.

"I saw what happened," a young boy volunteered. One of the grooms, presumably.

"Good, Jimmy. I'm listening," the Gythia said in a calm but clipped voice as she knelt down by Dagur's foot. Slim hands touched him, gently, but it still made Dagur hiss in pain.

"The black stallion didn't grow calm like the buckskin earlier. He grew even more restless when the Lord went in, and then stomped on his foot."

"Crushed is more accurate," the Gythia muttered.

Dagur cackled, a little hysterically. "Made good on his name then." Wow, did that hurt!

"This is not funny, Dag," Eret grunted, and kneeled down on his other side. "How bad is it?"

The Gythia sighed. "There are at least three broken tarsal bones. We'll bring him to my house so I can put a cast on it as well as give him something against the pain, but…" She bit her lip, then shook her head. "I don't know if I'm fit to treat such an injury correctly; those bones are small and hard to set."

"Aye. Sadly, it's a fairly routine injury among horsemen," Eret said, frowning. "If he doesn't get them set right, he might need a cane for the rest of his life."

"You're probably right there, milord. All I can say is that he needs to rest his foot now. No putting weight on it at all, for two or three weeks, maybe more. And the best bonesetter you can call for."

"We should bring him back to Oramond then," Eret said. "I know that my House has healers experienced with this injury."

She nodded. "I agree. Jimmy, go and tell Gordan to get a stretcher ready. Can you gather what he needs, sir?"

Eret nodded in confirmation, then the Gythia hurried away, probably to do some preparations or something.

"I really can't leave you alone for even ten minutes, eh?" Eret murmured.

Dagur let out a chuckle through gritted teeth. "Just imagine how boring your life would be without me."

"Sometimes, I wouldn't mind a little boredom."

Again, Dagur chuckled. He knew how to take this comment. "Well, you'll get your wish. I hope the next few days will be sufficiently uneventful now." He paused, then added more quietly. "I'm sorry. I thoroughly ruined these days for us, didn't I?"

Eret gave him a small but true smile and said in a low voice, "I don't know. Generally, you just make everything better for me." Then, before Dagur could reply anything to that sudden outburst of sappiness, he stood up. "Make sure to stay off that foot, you hear me? This is serious, okay? Be careful or you might end up having problems with it for the rest of your life. So be a good patient and let the healer do her work, and I'll go and gather our things."

Dagur accepted the advice as serious, but perked up in surprise at Eret's last words. "You're what now?"

"Well, I'm not staying here all alone with nothing to do when you need help with that injury."

Dagur's lips twitched into a smile, and if he hadn't been in love with this idiot already, he most certainly would be now. But then, he shook his head. "As much as I appreciate the thought... you have to stay here. Just think about how much it would fuel the rumours about us."

"You know that I really don't care about these rumours, right?" Eret scoffed.

Dagur nodded. "I know, and neither do I. But you know as well as I do that they won't make your lives easier in the long run. So think about it from the other side. If we separate now and you stay here, that would quench at least some suspicions. Besides," he went on before Eret could protest. "If you leave now, Hiccup's absence will become obvious immediately. But he needs the head-start. You have to stay here, if only to cover for him and to wait for his return."

Eret's mouth was already parted, ready to object. But instead of saying anything, he closed it again, lips pressed together, and shook his head. "By Frigga's piercing glare, since when are you the responsible one here?" He chuckled at Dagur's triumphant grin, then let out a heavy sigh. "You're right, though. I have to stay. But when you go back anway, will you look after Swanja? To keep her company. That is, if you can." He gestured at the swollen foot, but Dagur refused to look at it. If he ignored it, the pain was almost bearable. "I fear she'll have a tough time getting through these days."

Grimacing, Dagur nodded "Yeah, don't worry. I'll have an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

. o O o .

In the day since his accident, Dagur had been hauled back to Oramond on a stretcher slung between two horses, which had been 'fun'. He was of the opinion that it was probably a great way to train sailors against seasickness, especially when the village Gythia's potions against the pain had worn off. Once he was back in Oramond, he'd had his bones set—a ludicrously painful process, to say the least— and now had a cast made of flour and egg whites wrapped around his foot and calf, reinforced with birch rods.

As he was made to sit and wait for his cast to dry, his father kept him company. He didn't say much, just sat in a chair next to him and had a weirdly satisfied expression on his face. It irked Dagur to think about the reason, even as it was a welcome distraction against the pain.

"Glad to see my misfortune makes you so happy, father," he grumbled between pressed teeth. Who would have thought that a stupid foot could hurt so much? "But I shouldn't be surprised. This way, I at least can't cause any skandal, eh?"

His father measured him with a long and thoughtful look. Then he sighed and stood up to place a hand on Dagur's shoulder. "I care about you, son, so I don't like seeing you in pain. And given our family—" his face twitched into something between a smile and grimace. "—you should know that I also don't care much about gossip or scandals. Emotions are not something we can always control or direct, so as long as you don't let them influence your duties and responsibilities, I don't have issues with who you love."

Dagur lowered his gaze and pressed his lips together. This was the first time his father acknowledged in any way that he knew about him and Eret, and his reaction was far better than what he'd anticipated. But still, the reminder of his responsibilities stung.

"Anyway," his father went on. "This is not why I'm glad you're back again. It simply means… that you're safe. There are far too many hidden knives out there for my taste..." He squeezed his shoulder again and then turned to leave, not pausing even as Dagur called after him.

Some hours later, he was still thinking about the meaning of those words. Hidden knives usually meant assassins. But… whose assassins were they if his father knew about them but also was worried about his safety? It made no sense…

After the cast was finally dry, he'd badgered the healers into giving him some crutches. They'd dithered, but eventually had given in after his father had given his permission. So long as he accepted a minder, who was a middle-aged Temple lay sister who was clearly wanting to make sure a ducal heir didn't get more banged up under her supervision.

Grumpily, Dagur maneuvered the crutches and hobbled along the hallway to the rooms where Astrid was quartered here in Oramond. His foot itched, which the Gythia here said was a good sign. But it itched. Still, with at least some of his mobility back, he was going to fulfill his promise to Eret and check in on Astrid... and to give himself something to think about other than the throbbing pain radiating up his leg.

Upon his minder's knock, his own hands occupied with the crutches, he could hear voices inside, one female which clearly was Ruff and one male which belonged to… Snot? Confused, he waited until the door opened and Ruff's face appeared in the narrow gap.

"The Princess welcomes no visitors. You better—" Ruff's eyes grew wide as she recognised him, then a worried expression crossed her face. "Dagur? What are you doing here? What— Did something happen?" She opened the door a little wider, glanced around, and then hurriedly ushered him in after making his minder wait outside, ready to escort him back to his room.

Even more confused—had she not heard that he'd been injured? The servants' gossip was usually much faster than that!—Dagur manoeuvred himself inside, then stopped in bewilderment when he spotted Snot sitting by a low table at the side of the room, also looking surprised.

"Snot, you've really got to leave now," Ruff ordered in a stern voice. "Get it into your head, Astrid won't receive you. And I have no patience to chat with you, either."

Given the history between these two, Dagur wasn't surprised at the hurt expression on Snot's face. Ruff's rejections had always stung him more than those of others.

"No, I'm not leaving," he grunted stubbornly, even crossed his arms in front of him and settled back on the cushioned sofa he was sitting on. "I want to know what games you're all playing. I have just as much right to know as he does."

Dagur grimaced. What he had to tell was not something Snot couldn't know about. But he would have to be careful not to accidentally spill Astrid's and Hiccup's secret.

However, his own reluctance was nothing against what he spotted on Ruff's face. Her expression grew more and more desperate, her movements fidgety. Why was she so nervous?

"I'm back because I got injured," Dagur began, indicating toward his bandaged foot. He hoped to ease the tension at least a little. "Horse stomped my foot, my fault. But since I'm back here anyway, I thought I could update Swanja on… on her husband-to-be's current state."

Snot snorted. "What, did you bring love letters from Eret? Come on, you really don't have to keep up that act for my sake. Besides, they've only seen each other yesterday morning, even for pretend yearning, that's a little too thick, don't you think? Besides, good luck with getting past Ruff. 'The Princess doesn't receive visitors' is all she's been saying all day."

Dagur threw Ruff a measuring glance. Snot being so far off the mark was funny, in a way, but he didn't miss how tense and uncomfortable Ruff was. And somehow, Dagur doubted that was merely because of her former lover's presence.

"Is everything okay with Swanja?" he asked cautiously. "Is she hurt? Sick? Is there anything we can do for her?"

"She looked fine to me when I spotted her taking a stroll through the gardens earlier," Snot muttered. "But even then, Tuff wouldn't let me near her."

Ruff grunted. "Sure, she's fine. You can go now. Both of you!"

Dagur narrowed his eyes. He was too used to this tone from her and her brother. It always meant that they were hiding something, and in this case, it was probably more than just evidence of yet another prank.

"Argh, you're getting on my nerves." She threw her hands up in annoyance and stomped back towards the entry door. "As I said, she's not receiving any visitors. Now, go."

"Ruff?" Dagur growled, alarmed now. "What happened? I get her annoyance with random visitors, but why would she not even want to see me? Why would you not even ask her?"

Her expression grew even more tense. Her eyes darted from him to Snot and back again, both who were glaring at her with the same stubbornness. Whatever it was, Dagur would not leave until he knew what was happening here. And eventually, Ruff gave in.

"Oh, by Loki's balls, I knew this wouldn't work," she cursed. She stood there with her hands balled into fists at her side and with her eyes screwed shut, as if waiting for the moment to pass by. Then she let out a deep sigh. "You have to swear, okay? Swear, that you won't say a single word to anyone outside these rooms. Got it? Astrid's life might depend on it."

Alarmed, Dagur exchanged a quick glance with Snot, then they both nodded. Swanja's safety was always a top priority for them.

Ruff hesitated for yet another moment, then went toward the door that led to the more private part of the suite. When she opened it, Tuff was the first to step through it.

"What did I say?" he exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air. "This was a stupid idea. Completely hair-brained! And that means a lot coming from me!"

Dagur had to agree there, a bad feeling spreading in his stomach. Then someone else entered the room behind Tuff, and Dagur could do nothing but gape. With that elaborate dress and her blonde hair intricately braided around her head, she could have fooled him at a first glance.

But she was not Astrid.

. o O o .

Cami

(Three Days Earlier)

Curious as to why she'd been called to the Fyrir's office, Cami greeted Mala with a light courtesy. "You wanted to see me?"

Mala waved for her to sit at a table in front of her. "I did. I just received a message from the castle, someone asking for your company." She frowned. "And even though it came unexpectedly and on such short notice, I don't think it would be wise to decline it without further consideration."

"Oh?" Cami cocked her head. "What is it then? Which of the high lords is so bold as to request my company in the castle?" She smirked. She knew she was playing her role well, but this hadn't happened so far.

However, Mala shook her head, bemused. "None. They explicitly asked for you, but I doubt they're interested in your skills as an Ástir. Not directly, at least. Here, see for yourself."

Mala handed Cami a letter and she started to read. Upon seeing the name written at the bottom though, she paled.

"Would you rather I decline the request?" Mala asked, one eyebrow raised as Cami looked up at her, the distress on her face obvious. "I can do that, for now at least. Offer another opportunity for a meeting, at another time, maybe?"

But Cami shook her head. "No, it's all right. I'll go immediately." No matter what this was about, a delay wouldn't help. Besides, the message contained a certain sense of urgency. As if something bad would happen if she didn't respond.

"Very well. I'll send for the stables; they'll have a carriage ready for you."

Only half an hour later, Cami reached the castle. And even though she wasn't exactly scared, she still couldn't help but wonder about this request. Why would the princess of all people send for her on such short notice? They'd only met a few times, and even though those had been pleasant enough, it wasn't as if they were friends. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for soon-to-be-brides to have this informative talk with a member of Freya's Order, and maybe it even made sense that the princess summoned her specifically to have this conversation. But why now? Why in the middle of the night when everyone was trying to get a full night's rest for the journey to Oramond in the morning?

Or... did she want to talk about something else entirely?

"Only one way to find out," Cami muttered under her breath as she left the carriage.

The young man who'd delivered the princess's message jumped off the coach box and waved her to follow him. "This way. We have to hurry. And if possible, make sure nobody sees you."

Cami followed him with a frown, pulling the collar of her cloak tighter to somewhat hide her identity. What was happening here? Was this somehow about Hiccup and his involvement with the princess? Was she in trouble? But she'd already learned that questioning the princess's servant had no use; he barely seemed to know more than she did.

They reached what had to be the family wing of the castle, with plush carpets covering the floor and paintings or tapestries on every wall. The man led her through the corridors in a hurry, nervously looking left and right, and then ushered her into what had to be the princess's suite without even knocking.

Inside, Cami stopped by the doorway. In the middle of the lavish sitting room stood the princess, pristine and sublime as ever. From Eret, she knew that Princess Astrid wasn't as stiff as people perceived her, that her cool front she showed at every public event was just that, a front. And the few times they'd met in person, Cami's impression of the other woman had been similar, that she was kind and funny when in private. But right now, with how tense she stood there, eyes burning into Cami's, she wasn't so sure about that anymore.

A few tense seconds passed before the princess spoke.

"You know. Don't you?"

Just those words. Cami bit her lip, nervously. Yes, she knew about a certain secret, about one that involved the princess and a certain squire. But right now, it didn't feel safe to know about that. Was she going to get rid of Cami? To make sure the truth stayed hidden forever?

"I… I'm… I have no idea what you're talking about, Your Royal Highness."

The princess huffed in annoyance. "Oh, drop the act, and the title as well. We don't have time for that."

Gulping at her sharp tone, Cami reflexively bowed her head. "As you wish, Milady. But I don't—"

The princess groaned, causing Cami to fall silent again. "I know that you know." She looked at Cami with narrowed eyes. "About me and Hiccup. I know that he told you about us."

So this was about Hiccup and his idiodic infatuation. Great! What had he got her into? But playing dumb wasn't an option anymore. Taking a deep breath, Cami straightened, her eyes meeting those of the princess. "I do."

The princess seemed to relax, her shoulders a little less tense now. "Good. Because I don't have the time or patience to be vague. I need your help."

Cami blinked. "My help?"

"Yes," the princess said bluntly. "He told me how you always helped him, with information or to get away so we could meet. So I assume you're not impartial toward him. I need your help to save him."

"To save him?" Cami blurted out. "But… why? Is he in danger?"

Now that the princess apparently didn't want to execute her after all, Cami felt a little more at ease around her. So this really was the woman Eret had told her about. And she had asked her to act normal. But it still felt surreal.

The princess hesitated, then gave a helpless shrug. "I think so, yes. I…" She paused, thinking, and then nodded as if to herself. "I really don't have time, so I'll be blunt. He's going to partake in the Dragon Hunt, to earn himself a title so we can get married."

Cami's eyes grew wide.

"But I know he won't make it alone. I can feel it!" She paused again, her hands balled into tight fists and her lips and eyes pressed shut. "I have to help him. So I'll go after him, whether he wants it or not. But I don't want the guards rushing after me as soon as they notice my absence. That would ruin everything. So… do you remember us joking about you taking my place now and then? That's exactly what I need you to do now. My servants will do the major work, and you just have to be there. When visitors come to see me, let them see you from behind while my maidservant declines their request. Take a walk through the gardens while my warder keeps everyone at bay. Let them think I'm still there until we return."

Unable to even blink, Cami could only gape at the princess. Was she serious? "You… you want to do what?" Eret had said that she liked being outdoors, but… she was still the princess! She couldn't just… "Go out into the wilderness of the forest and hunt some elusive dragons?"

In the back of her mind, a tiny voice screamed at her to be cautious. For all of Freya's love, she was still talking to the first lady of the entire kingdom.

Luckily, the princess didn't seem to be angry though, and merely shrugged. "Into the swamplands, actually."

"The swamps?" Cami shrieked, growing pale. "But… but that's madness!" The swamps were no-man's-land, dangerous, deadly. She couldn't be serious!

"Maybe. But I don't care."

For a moment, Cami was speechless. The plan alone was pure insanity already, though the expression on the princess's face was deadly serious, tense even. She was serious. But what baffled Cami even more was that she was willing to go to such length in the first place. And all that just… for Hiccup?

"You… would really do that?"

From one moment to the other, the princess's features shifted into a soft smile, warm but distracted, her eyes cast unseeingly right through her. "For him? I'd do everything!" She paused, her lips twitching into a wider smile, as if she remembered something funny. But then she looked back at Cami again, sincerity radiating from her like a powerful wave. "Hiccup told me you don't believe we share a true soulbond. I don't have the time or energy to argue with you about that, believe what you wish. But I know it is real. Nothing will ever separate us. I will follow him. The question is just… Will you help me?"

Cami was reluctant to admit it, even just to herself, but she might have been wrong before. The princess clearly meant what she'd just said; she was set on going through with this mad plan of hers, whether Cami helped her out or not. But no matter whether this was just some intense form of first love infatuation or a true soulbond after all, the princess was right. What Cami believed was not important right now.

Right now, she had to make a decision. Logically, she should get away, alert the guards of the princess's plan and do everything in her power to keep her safe. But… Someone—Princess Royal or not—had asked for her help, had placed great trust in her by even doing so. And a dear friend was in danger.

Cami squared her shoulders and gave a resolute nod. "Okay. What exactly do you need me to do?"

. o O o .

Dagur

(Present Time)

"And you just let her leave?!"

Dagur all but shouted, starring in utter disbelief at Cami and the twins.

"Hey, do you even know your so-called sister?" Ruff retorted, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "Do you know what she's like when she's set her head on something? Of course, we tried to talk her out of this. But you know how she feels about… her future husband. She would have left anyway, with or without our help. This way, she's at least prepared and has some support."

Dagur gritted his teeth but couldn't help but see Ruff's point. Deep down, he wasn't even surprised Swanja had gone after Hiccup, not really. In hindsight, it was even obvious that she wouldn't let him leave on his own. But by Thor's balls, what was she thinking!

"I don't get it," came Snot's confused voice from behind him. "Why would she go after Eret? No offence, but I didn't expect her to feel that passionate about their wedding? And why out into the wilderness? Doesn't she know that you and Eret would only travel as far as you need to and then enjoy your days off? Or… at least I assume that's what you'd planned?"

He threw a questioning look at Dagur, but he ignored it. Right. When Ruff and Cami had given them a brief account of Astrid's plan, they'd been purposefully vague about who exactly she was following.

But what to tell Snot now was the least of his problems. He had to do something about Swanja, had to get her back here safely—and preferably, without anyone noticing she'd been gone in the first place. He hobbled over to a small writing desk and rummaged around for a pen and a sheet of paper.

"What are you doing?" Tuff looked at him with a bemused expression, his head cocked.

"Writing a message," Dagur grunted. There are far too many hidden knives out there for my taste… Once again, his father's words came to his mind. If what he'd hinted at was true, then… "We need to send someone after her. She can't be out there on her own, it's far too dangerous, especially now."

Ruff snorted. "Good luck with that. She's travelling disguised as a messenger."

Groaning, Dagur let his shoulders slump. "Why… why would you do that?"

But Ruff just raised an eyebrow at him and he didn't need an answer anyway. Because if she wanted to catch up to Hiccup she had to travel as fast as he did. Too bad that also meant she was already out of reach by now.

With a grim expression, he reached for the pen and ink and started to write.

"Uh, and what are you doing now? Didn't you listen to what we just said?"

"I've got to send a messenger to Eret," he muttered, pushing himself up on his crutches.

Tuff snorted. "Why? He won't reach her anymore either."

"I know. But he still needs to learn about this."

Oh, what a mess!

. o O o .

Uh oh... Astrid, what have you gotten yourself in to? How does this relate to Hiccup? And who was that person in the beginning? What was that note about? So many questions... *hides under rocks*