A/N:
Thank you so much for joining me again! And thank you VigoGrimborne for betaing! Oh, and thank you EPClaymore for dropping a line!


Caught

Ragnar flicked his eyes about, weighing his options.

It was all a mess! He was never supposed to be here in the first place, but on his ship, culling the dragons and razing these barbarians in service to the Holy Emperor, and then sailing back home.

He was lucky to have been able to escape from his burning ship that the rest of the armada had left behind, and that a merchant ship happened to sail close enough to attract their attention, and that they were willing to accept some coin and sweat in exchange for passage to their destination. However, instead of sailing Southbound towards home, they were Northbound to Berk… the biggest enemy in the Barbaric archipelago.

He had considered attempting to organize a mutiny, but the crew was nauseatingly loyal to their captain, which meant that slicing his throat and trying to take command of the crew to turn around to the South would have also flopped.

So, it was his hope that he could pretend to be a casual traveller, blend in on Berk and secure passage home, maybe with these merchants after they concluded their business. He knew a fair bit about the island and its inhabitants as he had been briefed on the information that was passed around among his ranks, gleaned from loose-lipped traders, spies, and interrogated travellers who had visited that area. Berk had visitors often enough throughout the year, many of them setting up tents for a week or so in their dragon training classes, sometimes in a nearby island when the crowd was too large or unruly.

However, his guise as Gerald had failed. Escape was the only option.

He was on the outskirts of the village, and it seemed feasible to run for the edge, shoving off anyone who tried to stop him, and lose himself in the forest… and remain stuck on this island with no aid from the outside world.

He could probably make it down to the docks, but he had no ship, and even if he commandeered one, it would take a crew to go anywhere. He could take a small boat, maybe find a little dinghy and some oars… and row away from an island full of dragons… alone.

The girl, Butterfly, or Tofa, whatever her name was, might serve as a captive. He could grab her and press a blade to her neck. She seemed to be well-favored by both the Vikings and their pet dragons. He could barter her life for… the promise of safe passage? As if the promise of any enemy held any worth.

Maybe he could take her with him under the promise to send her back unharmed and undefiled upon reaching Norway. No, that was destined to fail. Even if he could manage a ship entirely on his own – difficult under good conditions – and had Tofa tied up tight, he couldn't stay awake indefinitely. And what was to stop them from sending some Terrible Terrors or a Night Fury to chomp on his neck in his moments of vulnerability?

Besides, these barbarians would simply assume that he would do to her what they would do on a ship alone with a lass. Though, she was a pretty little thing…

"Ragnar, I'm talking to you!" He snapped his eyes to Tofa. "Calm down, nobody's going to hurt you. You're under the protection of hospitality, and we take that very seriously. Besides, we've known about you since you first stepped onto our docks."

"We…?"

Tofa nodded. "Not many. Well, not many humans. I made sure the dragons told Astrid about you before she swore you in under the protection and expectations of hospitality. Really, though, don't do something stupid like grab me and hold a blade to my throat. That would not end well for you at all, I can promise you that."

Ragnar numbly nodded. "How?"

"Well, for one," she started ticking off on her fingers, "I just might be a little more experienced with hand-to-hand combat than you'd assume… or a lot. And you're surrounded by dragons, a lot more than you see right now. And–"

"Not that!" he snapped impatiently. "How did you know?"

"That you were thinking of grabbing me and holding a blade to my throat to barter for safe passage? It was obvious with the way you were frantically looking around and twitching your fingers around the handle of your belt knife, and–"

"Not that!" Ragnar grunted. "About me. How did you know about me?"

She smiled innocently. "I'd tell you, but you wouldn't believe me."

Ragnar frowned at that. "Try me."

Tofa lifted the Terrible Terror she was holding up onto her head, and the dragon draped bonelessly over it, its head held over her forehead, and its wings and tail drooping down to her waist.

"Well," she drawled out slowly, "the dragons told me."

"The… dragons?" The Terror made eye contact and bobbed its head up and down, an amusing trick. "How…?"

"By talking to me. Except it's not with words."

Ragnar rolled his eyes. "Right, the dragons." he said casually as he looked out over the harbor, which some of the salvageable ships from the attacking armada were being sailed or dragged into.

If this was the treatment he'd received so far, and they knew about him already, then this was actually encouraging. A dragon rider probably spotted him floundering at sea on an ember of a ship before he flagged down a passing merchant. Astrid no doubt got answers from the captain about who was picked up along the way, and anyone with half a brain could put two and two together.

And Tofa was right that trying to take her hostage would only lead to ruination. He had no doubt that he could grab and threaten her, but every path led to him out at sea, on a wooden boat, surrounded by dragons, alone and vulnerable.

A thought came to mind. "But if you know that I was on the other side of that–" he flicked his head towards the smouldering ships in the harbor, "then what–"

Something clamped down on his neck and shoulder and slammed him into the wall of a house next to him, knocking the breath from his lungs. Thick fingers wrapped around his throat and lifted him up against the wall and twisted his arm at a painful angle. Ragnar looked into the beady eyes of his assailant, the bear of a man in orange dragon scale armor who was throwing those Night Furies around like they were potato sacks.

"Temperate!" Tofa shrieked. She cast an apologetic look at Ragnar. "This is Temperate," she casually said as if he was not being choked to death. "That's his dragon name, at least, but his human name is Hauk. He's not usually like this."

Ragnar would have responded if he could, only now appreciating the irony that he would have to be able to breathe to tell them that he couldn't.

Tofa beat on Hauk's arm. "Put him down now! Bad boy!"

"Give me one good reason," Hauk responded in a dangerously low voice.

Tofa took a step back and rolled her eyes. "Because he's under hospitality. Duh."

"Give me one good reason," Hauk repeated, unphased, but his grip loosened and Ragnar was able to suck in some air.

"How about the knife to your belly?" Tofa asked, gesturing to the only weapon Ragnar had on his person. Although, he wasn't sure how effective that orange dragon scale armor would be at thwarting his blade. The rider had a Timberjack, and aside from being able to cut clean through a person with their razor-sharp wings, their scales were light but very difficult to penetrate with blades, though they did crack when hit hard enough with stone or hardened steel.

Hauk looked down at the knife and scoffed. "Right, that's cute." He made eye contact again. "You know what you did."

"I… what?" Ragnar managed to croak out.

"It wasn't just him, and you know it." Tofa said. "He was only one man on one ship, and it took a lot of them to raze your island. And I know Grub was like a father to you, and the loss of him and his dragon–"

CRACK!

Ragnar opened his eyes to see a large, meaty fist embedded in a cracked board of the house wall next to his head.

CRACK!

Hauk struck the wall again with enough force that the entire structure rattled.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Hauk dropped Ragnar and backed up a step to lick at the rivulets of blood trickling down his knuckles. Ragnar sucked in a glorious lungful of air.

"Better?" Tofa casually asked as if nothing had happened.

"A little," Hauk bit out.

Tofa huffed. "With all your talk about trees being strengthened by their dead past... " She turned to Ragnar. "He's usually more approachable, really."

Hauk sighed. "And Astrid knew about this when she allowed him on Berk?"

Tofa nodded. "Don't think that she didn't want to do the same thing, except a little to the left." She gestured to the cracked boards next to Ragnar's head. "Don't worry, we're not taking any chances."

"Oh?" Hauk asked. He looked at the Terror still drooping over Tofa's head and patted his shoulder. "Hey, Swoop, would ya?" The dragon pricked up and fluttered its wings to transfer over to his shoulder. "Oh, I see." He looked to his right. "And… right." he spun around to look behind him. "Alright, thanks for sharing, little guy. You guys really aren't taking any chances, keeping an eye on him. Or a hundred."

Ragnar looked around, but aside from a few Vikings who stopped gawking and continued on their way when he glared at them, there was nobody else to see. "I'm being watched?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Of course," Tofa said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I did say we know who you are."

Ragnar took in his surroundings a bit more thoroughly. He saw a few Terrors on top of and clinging to the sides of houses, there were dragons in the air, but no sign of anyone spying–

A scaly snout materialized and seemed to float in mid air right in front of him with a blast of hot air, nose to nose, and he jumped back to thump against the wall.

"What is that?!" he shrieked. He knew what a Changewing was, and that they could make themselves almost perfectly invisible, but the sight of a dragon head seemingly floating in the air… It took a moment to come to terms.

"Teaser, how ya doing?!" Hauk shouted as he slapped an invisible patch of air. "Lemme see your wing." A wing materialized in front of him, sutures visible along a slice. "Good, looks like it's coming along nicely. Yeah, yeah, mother hen, deal with it."

The dragon went entirely invisible again, and it was only then that Ragnar noticed a blur in the air where the sutures were. A mouthful of Hauk's blonde hair started floating up. "Hey, no fair, you crazy girl. And speaking of crazy, where's Camicazi?" The hair went taut. "Ow! Is that the proper way to treat your rider's husband?"

He gave a wave at Tofa and a glower at Rangar before walking off.

"And you will repair the damage you caused!" she called after him.

"After Ragnar and his stupid mainlanders repair the hundred other structures damaged in their attack."

"Hauk," she said testily.

He turned and flashed a smile. "Yes dear, I'll take care of it."

"Rrrrrr!" she growled. "He sure knows how to get me boiling sometimes." Her face suddenly brightened. "Nevermind that, you've had enough encounters with dragons for today."

"On that, we are in agreement," Ragnar ground out. His mind was still reeling at the fact that she knew about him, and others too, and yet he was safe if what he had heard about Viking honor held them true to their promise of hospitality. Even Hauk, who seemed to have been stung particularly hard, restrained himself from doing what he really wanted to do. "Does Hiccup know?"

Tofa shrugged. "He anticipated this sort of situation could arise and planned for it, but he's out right now. Even after organizing our recovery from your attack, sending off the fallen, and sleeping the night, he should be catching up to the rest of the retreating armada pretty soon. Well, him, and Toothless, and, like, a thousand dragons, and riders from almost every tribe.

That didn't sound good for those who used to be his fellow soldiers, but he felt nothing for them anymore. His ship was wrecked early in the campaign, his crew lost. The riders were beating a hasty retreat with any dragons they still had, and the urgency to chase them was so strong that it was decided that having even one ship turn around to pick up drifting survivors wasn't worth it.

Let them burn for all he cared.

Still, he couldn't suppress his curiosity. "What will Hiccup do when he catches up to them?"

Tofa brightened at that. "Oh, ya know, the usual things Firefly always does."

########


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Lupus watched a green flag with a small stone tied to one corner stream down and land on the deck of his ship. It was a signal for a truce, a request for a representative to board his ship and discuss a matter peacefully. He had anticipated various potential consequences, and this was far from the worst, assuming it was not some deception.

A sailor picked up the flag and handed it to Lupus, and he could feel a thousand eyes on him, not just on his ship but the entire armada. Well, what remained of it, which was his armada now as he was the hastily chosen admiral. The admiral who had started this campaign died in the fighting, as did his replacement, and his replacement. The chain of command was several rungs deep, but each one had been killed on this campaign. The tactics employed by these dragon riders was something nobody was prepared for, and the positions that the people of high command assumed to be safer were all the more dangerous.

The voyage back home, away from this cursed Barbaric Archipelago, was progressing… painfully slow. The sea was calm, as was the wind, and it wasn't cooperating with the direction it was blowing from. He was hoping to be well out into the open seas, far enough away from any land that no dragon would feel like flying out to harass them, but high above, hundreds of dragons flew in circles, waiting. Hopefully, they weren't waiting for their master's command to attack the retreating force. The crewmen were more vulnerable at sea, especially without a lot of their specialized weaponry that was lost at sea in the battle.

This campaign started off with expectations of an easy win with overwhelming force. Dragons were simple animals, their strengths easily turned against them and their numbers meaningless with how quickly they would scatter. It had seemed that nothing could go wrong with a great strength in manpower and superior weaponry, unlike Drago's assault six years ago, when he relied heavily on a titan dragon that was ultimately defeated by a single Night Fury. Well, there was Grimmel, now dead and his dragons either killed or scattered, but he was only a side gag. He had played his part in keeping the dragon master and his Night Fury occupied, but it turned out that made no difference.

These dragons in the Barbaric Archipelago did things that nobody had ever seen a dragon do, things nobody was prepared to deal with.

Dogs could be trained to protect their handler or attack on command. Horses could be conditioned to bear their riders in formation and not spook in battle. In the Southern continent, elephants could be trained to function as mobile ballista platforms.

These dragons up here, though, executed complicated militant strategies with discipline and precision, and most of them didn't even have a damn rider to handle them! They would dive in as a dense flock as usual, and when the ranks of bowmen were told to aim – a coordinated volley taking down a dozen dragons instantly was so much more effective at scattering the flock than simply firing at will – the dragons would split at just the right moment so that the arrows all flew into empty air. Some of the unit commanders even swapped out the command "Fire!" for something else, figuring that the dragons had learned to associate that command with death, but that had no effect.

How?! Nobody had any clue! Drago was able to make a dragon submit, but the one time he actually rode one, a Night Fury at that, was his downfall. The most skilled dragon tamer could barely get a Terrible Terror to take fish from his hand without trying to bite off his fingers for God's sake!

Well, Grimmel did seem to have command over the Deathgrippers. He had claimed that he could communicate with the beasts, which never sat well with anyone. The crazy man was basically implying that he could strike a deal with those dragons, negotiate with them rather than control and train them. Whatever witchcraft he had employed, it turned against him as it was those beasts that killed him in the end.

Lupus maintained a detached composure as he held the green flag, gesturing to it while he walked along the gunwale to look at the captains of the ships near his, all of them commanders who would keep the other captains in line. All of them raised their right hand. They were unanimous, they would entertain a peaceful discussion. Refusing these riders might only make them more likely to attack, a fear he would never admit to them.

"Raise the sails to half!" he shouted to his crew, and they rushed to comply, hoisting up the bottom of the sails so that the ship's speed – as paltry as it was – decreased, allowing some of the other ships to draw near. Ropes were thrown and the first mates from the surrounding ships swung across to land on his deck or thump into the side and climb up. They would help spread the message, whatever it would be, to the entire armada. The other reason they alone joined Lupus on his ship was so that there would still be some leadership in the fleet if his ship was taken out.

"Keep a steady hand!" he bellowed to his crew. "Keep your swords sheathed, and do not nock any arrows. Nobody attacks unless I give the order." He paused and turned to face the bulk of the crowd. "Is anybody in any way uncertain of what I want?"

Silence.

"Good, because anyone who shoots one arrow out of turn is getting keelhauled back home."

A nervous chuckle rippled through the crowd, and it was hastily silenced.

Lupus grabbed the flag by the corner, the one with the stone tied to it, and waved it back and forth. The response was almost immediate. Four dragons broke from the flock in a downward spiral. He immediately recognized the elusive Night Fury, a Rumblehorn, a Monstrous Nightmare, and a… some bronze dragon he hadn't seen before… with an owlish head and four wings.

"Hey!" he shouted to a few sailors at the front of the ship, gawking up as everyone else was. "Clear the bow." They complied, navigating the deck with practiced ease without once peeling their eyes from the sky.

The rider dignitaries landed their beasts in the clearing. The Night Fury bore who Lupus knew must have been Hiccup, the lanky chief of Berk with the prosthetic leg, wearing black leather and scales that was apparently common for these riders. Lupus had learned, from intelligence gathered about Berk, that Hiccup was in his mid twenties, but his short beard which he was clearly trying to encourage along would have otherwise suggested he was younger.

A middle-aged man with black hair and a large chin jumped down from his Rumblehorn, dressed in brown leather and furs. At the exact same moment, what must have been his wife jumped down and wrapped her arms around his bicep and patted it like he was some prized possession.

The bronze dragon bore only one rider, presumably human for all he knew with that strange armor composed of carapace plates and long spikes. The rider leaped down, staff in hand, landing in a crouch. Oddly enough, they remained like that instead of standing. Strange.

From the Nightmare's back slid a man with a tightly-trimmed black beard, steely eyes, a scowl, and a certain militant snap to his movements as he quickly assessed his environment. Lupus suspected that he knew who this man was, and it made him angry. And a little uneasy.

The young man in black stepped forward and gestured with his open hands, palms up. "I am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. And this," he gestured to the dragon at his back, "is Toothless."

Lupus swallowed a sigh. The barbarian was introducing his beast of burden as if it was a person for God's sake! Acting insane was surely his way of rubbing salt into the wounds.

"And this is my mother Valka," he continued without missing a beat, gesturing to the crouching rider of the bronze dragon. "And Cloudjumper, Eret and Ruffnut and Skullcrusher, and–"

"Tord," Lupus snarled out. "I have never met you, but your reputation precedes you."

"Charmed," Tord said with a grin, "but I cannot say the same about you, child."

"Pfft!" Lupus snorted. "Child! Those of the church call people that, but you've been excommunicated! Enjoying the life of a vagabond?"

Tord's gentle nod was a response that Lupus found underwhelming. "Was I shunned by God, or by men who claim to teach His will from a closed book?"

Lupus sneered at the jab. To think that such a traitor could just board his ship and–

Hiccup stepped forward with a steely look in his eyes. "Tord, please." He looked at Lupus. "And to finish introductions, it seems you know Tord's name." He gestured to the Monstrous Nightmare. "And this is Intrepid. I've introduced ourselves. What is your name please?"

Lupus sighed. At least Hiccup was not being rude, more than one could expect for these Northern barbarians. "Lupus Quirinus, admiral of the fleet. You are here to make demands under the threat of attack if I refuse, yes?"

Hiccup actually smiled at that. "Straight to the point, I can appreciate that, but my intent is a little different. You come from a land of kings and emperors who rule over the people with an iron fist." He flicked his eyes up. "I hold no such power over the Archipelago, as if I would want it. I want to see you and your men sail home, but a lot of people – humans and dragons alike – really want to wipe out all of you for, ya know, trying to wipe out all of us. I've convinced them to wait until I've spoken with you, so I ask you to help me convince them not to attack."

The young man took a step back and relaxed his stance with his hands clasped in front of him, waiting.

"... What?" was all Lupus managed to get out. That was a very odd way to begin an ultimatum.

"I figured it couldn't hurt to ask," Hiccup said. "You see how many dragons are flying above, and there are many more on the nearby islands," he gestured to the two rocky landmasses the armada was sailing between, but they were too far away to tell if it was a feint. Lupus thought he might have seen movement on the shores, but it could have been his imagination.

Suddenly, it all clicked. "You wish to see me beg?" he scoffed.

Hiccup shook his head. "No, please don't, that would only be the kiss of death. I just want to negotiate. Let's start with this. Almost all of your heavy weapons have been destroyed, but I'm sure you've already assessed what you have should we attack your armada. How many dragonroot arrows do you have? And I bet you still have some… uhhhh, shots left in those iron tube things…"

He scanned the deck and excitedly pointed at one of the first mates who had one of those new-fangled dragon deterrents hanging from his waist. "Ah, that thing! Those were depressingly effective at stunning our dragons."

Lupus snorted. The flash-booms were effective indeed, essentially an iron tube as thick as a man's arm and half as long, packed with a flammable powder and sealed up with wool and wax to protect against the weather and spray of the sea. Supposedly, someone with a fascination for the fiery displays of the Eastern folk had learned that bright flashes and loud noises could disorient dragons, and the flash-boom was so much more effective than clanging pots or hammers.

The recent addition of a steel plunger that would strike a small piece of flint – inspired by how a Zippleback would light its explosive gas by grinding its teeth to create sparks – made the device actually useful to deter swooping dragons as there was no slow-burning fuse to light. The intense flash of light and ear-ringing explosion was very effective at sending nearby dragons into a drunken daze... When those damned contraptions actually fired properly... And when people didn't foolishly peer down the barrel to see why it didn't didn't fire.

The only downside was that they were one-shot wonders until one could find a quiet place to reload, but when it functioned properly, it had proven capable of enabling even the most unskilled swordsman to slay a dragon.

"Yeah, every other soldier has a flash-boom with charges," he said confidently. "We're on to your tricks, and your dragons would have to fly very far to find loose rocks to drop on us again, and I still have over eight thousand able bodies with bows and quivers full of dragonroot arrows."

"Good!" Hiccup gestured to the flash-boom hanging on someone's belt. "Though, that one seems to be just an inert iron tube, as the plunger is missing." Lupus forced himself not to react. "But we can assume that some of them are ready to fire." Hiccup clapped with a smile before resting his hand on his dragon's snout. "We would definitely suffer more heavy losses if we decide to wipe you all out, and I cannot confidently say if it will be a few or all but a few."

"And even if you did, against all odds, more would come to finish what we started," Lupus ground out.

Hiccup nodded, his face solem. "Yes, no matter what, it seems that you mainlanders have a fascination for throwing your lives away because your rulers tell you to hate certain people." He suddenly smiled. "You're good at this, but I think you're exaggerating when you say you have eight thousand able bodies, let alone that many with bows and dragonroot arrows. We counted fifty-seven ships, so that's probably, what, four thousand two hundred thirty seven men?"

Lupus smiled to hide his unease. That was a very specific number which was very close to his estimate from what all the captains had reported. A lucky guess. "Sure, let's go with that," he conceded.

"And I doubt everyone is still fully armed, but you still have some men with bows and dragonroot arrows?"

Lupus wouldn't fall for it. Sure, the ships were overloaded with people sleeping on the deck, many of whom lost all of their weapons in their mad scramble to flee their sinking or burning ship for one that was still afloat – many of them were still fighting off a fever – but Hiccup didn't need to know that. He also didn't need to know that some harsh decisions might have to be made to stretch out the limited food and fresh water all the way home if they didn't get some exceptionally good wind the whole way.

"Maybe not all, but still several thousand ready to shoot down your dragons with root arrows," Lupus condeded.

Hiccup raised his eyebrows? "Several thousand? I doubt that, but do you even have one thousand?"

"Much more than that," Lupus ground out. His enemy certainly didn't need to know the estimates.

"At least six hundred?" His dragon took a step forward and sniffed, causing Lupus to palm his sword's handle. "So, what, then, three hundred? Yeah, Toothless says that you feel like it's not that far off. You see, he can sense– well, nevermind, that doesn't matter. Still, a few hundred bowmen with dragonroot arrows is a pretty substantial deterrent against a thousand dragons attacking your fleet. It's really hard to shoot at a moving target, especially one that's flying across your ship in an erratic pattern instead of straight towards it, but some of those arrows would hit."

"Are you done?" Lupus asked, forcing a passive, bored expression on his face.

Hiccup smiled. "Almost, but thank you for your help. I'm convinced that it's not worth wiping you guys out, and the other chieftains and dragons listening in," he tapped his dragon's earlobes for some reason, "are hesitant." Shouting could be heard from above.

Hiccup frowned and blinked hard. "I think this world has enough mothers who have to explain to their children why Daddy will never come home again, both up here and down there."

"Thanks to dragons, that is a common occurrence," Lupus ground out with a scowl. "There's a reason the entire world has united in our fight to purge the world of all dragons."

"That is sad, I do not contest that," Hiccup said somberly. "I really wish people were more accepting of training on how to be friends with dragons instead of enemies, but I suppose we've been content to keep to ourselves for the most part so far."

He quirked an eyebrow. "But the entire world united against us? I highly doubt that, and Toothless agrees. You're right, people kill dragons, and dragons kill people, but even amidst all that there must still be conquests and power struggles, influential people sending the masses who mistakenly trust their wisdom to go forth and kill and die."

"Let's assume we're in agreement for argument's sake."

Hiccup assumed a more formal posture. "We can let that drop. There are two more items to discuss, the first being that many of your men died in the assault on Berk." He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "And we did not take any prisoners. We plucked up the bodies floating on the waves, and all of your fallen men are stashed near a beach on the Southern tip of Berk. No matter what else happens, they are on my island, I am the chief, and I will gladly grant amnesty to a few of your ships and their crew to come and–"

Lupus cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Not falling for that. Let them feed the birds."

"But Lupus," one of the first mates shouted in dismay, "you can't seriously–"

"Stand down!" Lupus barked at him. "We will not risk the living for the dead in what is probably a trap anyway."

"Then risk only one ship, volunteers on–"

"I! SAID! STAND! DOWN!"

For a moment, they stared at each other before the first mate stormed off angrily. "May the lord smite you for this!" he shouted over his shoulder. He would be dealt with appropriately, later.

Lupus turned back to Hiccup. "And the last order of business? You have already overstayed your welcome. Fight and die, or flutter off."

Hiccup seemed put-out. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, then gave a sad look at Lupus. As if his soul had been ripped out of his body, he mechanically said, "Now that we have a feel for the risk of loss should we attack you, there's still the temptation to forcefully free the dragons you're holding on your ships." He had a distant look in his eyes as he stared at his Night Fury for a moment before turning back to Lupus. "If you free all of the dragons your ships are holding – unharmed – then I can give you my word, on behalf of all the chiefs and dragons of the Archipelago, that we will not attack you but will allow you to sail home unhindered."

Lupus gestured grandly to the ships all around. "I don't know of any dragons here save for yours up there."

Hiccup deadpanned, as did his dragon. "You're not that good at bluffing, Lupus, even if I didn't have Toothless advising me." He tapped the deck with the toe of his boot. "There's a Gronckle, three Nadders, and two Nightmares down there." He gestured to a ship off the port, "And two Snufflefangs over there." He pointed to a ship off the starboard. "And a Nightmare and– Woah! You managed to capture a couple of Grimmel's Deathgrippers?!"

"How… do you… how are you…?" Was all Lupus could say before the Hiccup could display any more prophetic knowledge.

"You really wouldn't believe it if we told you," Tord offered lightly. At a dark stare, he sighed. "Apparently, all humans and dragons, and even animals to some degree, are always constantly projecting at least some basic primal emotions or some sort of telepathic hum that I don't really understand, and dragons are able to hear this."

He brushed a finger along one of the Night Fury's head frills, eliciting a shiver and a croon. "And these sensor lobes expand his range as well as allow him to discern approximate direction and distance for any creature just like how you can tell if a sound came from your left or right. He probably had an in-depth conversation with every dragon on all of your ships in the blink of an eye, and then gave a summary report to his rider, who apparently thoroughly enjoys seeing the reactions people give him when he says things they assume he shouldn't be able to know."

Lupus stared at him, slowly blinking. "See?" Tord said. "I said you wouldn't believe me."

"Back on topic," Hiccup said impatiently. "The how matters not, but what will you do, Lupus? Will you accept our offer of peace for the release of all the dragons on your ships?" The Night Fury snorted. "On second thought, keep the Deathgrippers locked up. They're only promising to try to sting Toothless to control him with their venom and make him eat me."

"So that is the real reason you're here, to see what sort of information you can needle from me before negotiating for the release of our caged beasts."

"Prisoners" Hiccup curtly corrected, "but guilty as charged, like how you sent spies to our islands posing as traders and folks who were curious about our dragons."

Lupus stared for a moment, deep in thought. He turned and strode to the gunwale and shouted to the commanders in the surrounding ships, "The enemy is offering to leave us in peace in exchange for releasing all our caged dragons. Speak your mind."

"Do we trust him?" one shouted back

"They're just dragons," another shouted out. "If their release secures us from a fight we'd rather not have, then for once, those damned beasts will actually serve some purpose."

Lupus continued around his ship, shouting the same to other commanders, and cringing at the note of desperate compliance he hoped that the riders were not overhearing.

Finally, he made his way back to the riders. "We will accept this treaty," he said, offering his hand. "We'll release them by sundown tomorrow."

Hiccup didn't budge. "Not good enough. You will release them now. I know you can communicate your orders to the entire armada fairly quickly."

"And if I insist I need some more time?" Lupus asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Hiccup sighed, appearing crestfallen. "Then you will not get that time before they all," he flicked his eyes up, "descend on your ships."

"So you do command them all, contrary to what you've said."

"No," Hiccup shook his head, "but I represent them. Like Tord said, if I explained how, you simply would not believe me."

Lupus sighed and dropped the issue. Nothing mattered beyond the question of whether he was willing to release the caged dragons, and if he trusted Hiccup and his riders to keep their end of the promise. Then again, these dragons weren't fed at all these past three or four days. Dragons were known to carry almost no body fat, since they had to work to keep every pound aloft. They would be weak and end up floundering in the sea, and that would distract the riders and their pet dragons.

Hiccup was known to have a soft heart, especially for dragons. If it took two or three dragons to pluck up one starving dragon from the unforgiving sea, that would occupy over half of the enemy's forces, leaving the remainder as easy fodder for arrows, ballistae bolts, and bolas. This would significantly even the odds, especially if the riders weren't expecting a fully-committed attack during the chaos. The potential for this situation was the sole reason the caged dragons were kept alive this long; once the ships were far enough away from land, into the open sea, the dragons would be killed and dumped overboard to lighten the load.

The Deathgrippers, however, were well-fed and always angry. During the big battle four days ago, Lupus had noticed that they seemed to particularly hate the Night Fury with tunnel-visioned intensity…

There was his answer. Lupus stuck out his hand, and Hiccup accepted the shake. "Unharmed and unfettered, all of them," he stipulated, and Lupus nodded with a tight smile. He made his rounds, calling out to the nearby ships to spread the word and bring all the occupied cages onto the deck so that the dragons could be released on his command. Hiccup showed no sign of having noticed the order to release all the dragons as he calmly waited with his hands clasped, nor did he take up any issue with the idea that the air would be filled with almost two hundred panicking dragons instead of a light trickle over time.

It didn't take long, and a silence settled over the fleet again. Lupus reached for his horn that was slung around his neck, made eye contact with Hiccup, who nodded, and blew hard to signal for all the cage doors to be opened. His planning and preparation was about to pay off–

Nothing. The caged dragons did absolutely nothing except continue to lounge in their cells. This… went against everything he ever knew about dragons. They were the embodiment of "carpe diem" – seize the day.

Well, there was some motion. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two well-fed Deathgrippers come streaking in at breakneck speed to assault the Night Fury, just as he anticipated–

TWANG! TWANG!

Two crossbow bolts, shot from riders who had swooped in low and close, struck their targets, sending them floundering to the deck under the effects of dragonroot. Lupus numbly watched as their flailing slowed and stilled and two pairs of Monstrous Nightmares, with rope slings dangling from their legs, settled onto the deck. Their riders almost instantly secured the Deathgrippers to the slings, and the Nightmares took off with their baggage.

"Poor Toothless," Hiccup liltingly consoled his dragon. "Everybody always wants to kill you."

Lupus ground his teeth.

A small flock of dragons broke off from the swarm above. "Our agreement!" he hissed, reaching for his sword.

Hiccup held up his hands placatingly. "It's not that many, and they're peaceful. See? Now, please don't do anything rash, or I'll owe Snotlout ten copper coins."

Lupus allowed his eyes to follow the gesturing hand… and grit his teeth. The incoming dragons had riders, each with large baskets mounted on either side of his saddle. They landed on top of the cages, and the riders reached into the baskets to pull out fish to toss to the caged dragons between the bars. It was quick and efficient, and as quickly as they descended, they ascended again.

"These dragons are absolutely starving," Hiccup explained as the caged dragons greedily gobbled down the fish, "except the Deathgrippers. Many of them would be far too weak for even a short flight to the nearby islands, but they recover very quickly once they have a little food in their belly. Even these few fish will see them safely to shore, where they can be tended to."

The caged dragons started to trickle into the sky. Some had sprained or broken wing arms, or tattered wing membranes, but it was only a dozen. Those dragons calmly waited outside their cage as a few dragons at a time descended from above to pick them up – accompanied by a larger force to give any archers a good reason to not take an easy shot.

"So it would seem," Lupus ground out through gritting teeth.

"Hey!" Eret suddenly shouted off towards the starboard. "Open those cages now!"

"Our agreement!" Hiccup hissed. "Some of your men thought it would be funny to lock the doors on some of the caged dragons. So long as even one dragon remains trapped in a cage, our agreement is null and void."

Lupus held a hand flat over his eyes and made a show of straining to see. "I don't see what you're talking about."

"Intolerable," Hiccup said in a venomous voice. "Ten…"

Lupus snorted. "What, you really think–"

"Nine…"

"– that a few dragons would even–"

"Eight…"

"What, you'd really commit your people and dragons–"

"Seven…"

"– to attack and die just for a few–"

"Six…"

Lupus stormed off and shouted to the next ship over, "Whoever thought it would be funny to lock those cages, tell them they'll ride the rudder home if they don't open them immediately!"

A moment later, the remaining dragons flew free.

Hiccup chuckled. "My wife taught me that counting trick. Works wonders on our kids."

"There!" Lupus ground out as the last dragon took to the sky. "Now you will fly off and leave us in peace, demon rider."

Hiccup and his dragon snorted in unison. "Did you hear that, Toothless?" He lilted as he jumped into the saddle. "The gall of some people. These mainlanders are anything but polite."

The dragon crouched down and took off, followed by the others, leaving one fuming admiral and his speechless crew.

A Monstrous Nightmare flew by low, and its rider leaned over. "Really, Lupy?!" he shouted. "Not a single arrow?!" He shook his fist angrily. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to lose a bet with Hiccup?! I'm down ten coppers because of you!"