Hey, everyone.

I promise you - I had every intention of getting this out by Thursday, but I oh-so-conveniently got what seems to have been food poisoning the day before, and I have only just been able to function at all since then, never mind work on writing and uploading this story. Regardless, excuses are excuses, and you all have my sincerest of apologies. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and be sure to leave a review and follow for updates.

All the best,

~RS

I don't own How to Train Your Dragon.

Syl didn't know what to do.

It's me, was her first thought, once she could think straight again.

He's here for me. He knows I'm here, and he's going to kill me, or take me away, or… It doesn't matter. He must have known I would be here. Somehow, he, he… That's why he's been so quiet. He's just been waiting for his moment. Waiting…

She swallowed hard. I should just go down now. If he was able to find me here, he'll be able to find me anywhere else I go, it doesn't matter. I should just... Surrender now and get it over with… If I try to run, he'll just find me again, and again, and… Gods, How did he know? How?!

Defeated, she looked around the rafters for a point she could climb down from. It didn't take her long to spot one - with her experience, they were usually quite easy to find. She was about to put her foot down onto it when she blinked.

What am I doing?!

While she was still scared and confused, she was right about one thing - it didn't add up. Hiccup and Astrid had gone through way too much planning for someone to be able to find out where she was that easily, not to mention the precautions she had taken on her own. And even if Bjarke had somehow figured out their ruse, there was no way he would have been able to track her to that exact location. Even Hiccup hadn't been ready for her to run into that house - she had never even uttered a word of her personal intentions aloud. Finally, she couldn't even imagine what Bjarke would want with her, anyway. He had left her there, abandoned her. He had threatened that she would be killed if she returned, sure - but she hadn't done that. He had come there, and unless her mother had given him an order to sneak back to kill her own daughter, which she very much doubted, she had no other quarrel with him that she could think of. She couldn't even remember ever stealing anything from him, not that she really kept track of the pockets she picked or the houses she robbed.

And so, the most unlikely answer was somehow also the most logical one - this was one bizarre, crazy, and downright ridiculous coincidence. He probably thinks I'm about dead by now, Syl thought with a smile. Guess I'm proving him wrong. He made a HUGE mistake in letting me go like he did. And he will pay for that mistake. He WILL pay...

And, in a second, the terrifying confrontation she was met with became a golden opportunity. She had the upper hand, here. Unbeknownst to the two morons below, she was watching over all, seeing everything that happened with not a single consequence. At least, not yet.

It was her chance - her chance for revenge, granted by the gods themselves to her. She had known in her heart it would come one day - she just hadn't thought it would come so soon, nor so perfectly.

And it was perfect. There was no Hiccup here to dissuade her, no Night Furies to scare her out of doing it, no fake friends, phony parents or strangers she had to keep up an appearance around - just her. And even if they were there, what would they care? This man was their enemy. Hiccup would probably turn his cheek; Astrid might even approve of it. Not that she would ever have to tell them, anyway.

Grinning, she scanned the rafters for something - anything - to use as a weapon. A mace or a boulder would have been preferred, but she knew the likelihood of finding either of those in the rafters of some old man's house was less than slim. Instead, she searched for a loose board, a small bucket of nails - the entire house reeked so much of mold and dead termites she was surprised it hadn't fallen in on itself already.

But, oddly enough, even after she tugged as hard as she could against the beams around her, not a single one so much as budged. Cursing, she glanced down into the house, where the two men still stood. Seeing Bjarke leaf through the book would have made her laugh any other day - she doubted he even knew how to read - but at the moment it posed as a complication more than anything. Without a doubt, he would eventually grow wary of staying on the island and leave, and her chance would vanish like a wave being swept back into the sea.

Grimacing, she retraced her steps from climbing up into the rafters, trying to remember anything - anything - that she could use. There was the pile of firewood outside, but most of it was so decayed and rotted that she doubted it would do much more than crumble in her hands. She thought she could recall seeing a long-rusted axe leaning against the house, but that was a big risk, and if she was trying to be at least slightly inconspicuous, an axe falling from the upper beams of the house directly onto Bjarke's head would give Mildew more than enough reason to doubt that faulty architecture and poor maintenance were to blame.

Not that she had given much thought to getting out of the situation, anyway - what mattered then was revenge, and revenge alone. The consequences she could come to terms with later on, and she had gotten out of bad situations in the past. However… She hadn't ever killed anyone, either…

That reminded her - if she was going to do this, she would need to make sure it was a successful attempt. As was the tradition in their tribe, Bjarke had taken his helm off upon entering the house, but even with that benefit, a loose board to the head would feel like little more than a feather to him, she knew. Whatever the object was, it would have to be heavy. Very heavy. It wouldn't hurt if it was sharp or spiky, either…

And she knew just the thing to use.

Rushing back to the open hole in the back of the room, she poked her head out, and looked straight up.

Sure enough, the crumbling, wooden dragon's-head she had used to swing into the house was still attached to the apex - but only just. Her hanging from it earlier had loosened it, and added on to the fact that it was already as corroded as the rest of the house, she knew she could get it. If she could only tug on it a little…

Frowning, she reached a hand up above her head, grasping for the head as far as she dared. Still, it wasn't quite enough. Still crouched within the house, she could barely see above her, and the higher she thrust her hands, the more she could feel herself leaning outside of the building, closer and closer to a tumble all the way down to the ground. It would hurt, but what mattered was the attention it would draw from the two idiots inside. They might not recognize her for who she really was - she was still wearing most of Astrid's costume, and spoke with her voice - but it wouldn't matter. Whatever this was was serious business. They couldn't and wouldn't risk releasing somebody they knew had overheard them - not alive, at least.

With a huff, she climbed back inside the house. It was settled; she had to use the dragon's head. She was committed. The question only remained of how to get it.

Eventually, she laid down, stretching her body down the length of the center beam, from her legs to her head. It was a good thing she hadn't brought Astrid's full armor, she realized - aside from being loud, it would've made the whole ordeal incredibly uncomfortable, if not also nigh on impossible.

Syl glanced back down into the house. Mildew seemed to be getting impatient, but Bjarke still stood near the door, flipping through the book, raising his eyebrow at something or other every few pages. Still, he was growing closer and closer to the end of it with each huff of confusion, and she knew her mother would want to give it a more thorough examination back on their island, assuming she had ordered him to get it.

This book seemed to be growing more and more important with each passing second, which might've made Syl equally curious if she wasn't so caught up in her almost feral, mad drive to… To take her revenge. Killing was a word she was reluctant to use in the situation; it tasted foul and bloody on her tongue, and besides… Killing him didn't seem to fit, here - this was payback, an equal exchange as much as the one that was already taking place below.

She ripped her eyes away from the men below, trying not to think about them too much.

Focus, Syl.

Gripping her hands onto the top board of the frame of the smoke vent, she counted to three in her head, before pushing her weight against it. As she did, her shoulders, head and upper chest slid out, and she once again felt the cool Berk air nipping against her exposed skin. It was no matter - she was a Viking. She was a Viking, and…

She could do this.

Clenching her teeth together as tightly as she could without them cracking under the pressure, she lifted the upper half of her body up, feeling as though her intestines were going to snap with the knot she felt around her stomach. In the back of her mind, she almost thought she heard Astrid's annoying voice, telling her she had to exercise more if she was to keep up with her routines and appearances. Even more aggravating was the fact that, although she had only actually listened to her speaking once or twice, she was forced to hear her every time she opened her own mouth - and that was the voice she heard then.

Still, the position was more comfortable and flexible than her previous one than it had been before, and soon enough she could feel the pointy teeth of the wooden dragon's head brushing against her fingertips. With one last stretch of her arms, followed by a grunt she did her best to muffle, she had her hands locked around the top of it.

Then she tugged. She pulled, and tugged and wrangled with it like two Vikings with the last drumstick at a feast. Though it was rotted by pests, as well as the harsh climate, it still held fast. After all, it wasn't just an ornament - it was practically a part of the house, extending straight out of the supporting beam holding the entire building together.

Come on, just a little bit more, she thought, narrowing her eyes. The evening had grown dark, and with only a sliver of sunlight over the ocean, it was almost impossible to see anything at all. The light coming from inside of the house provided more visibility than any natural luminescence already.

Gods, I can feel it cracking, she thought. Just a little bit farther. Just a little bit-

There was the sound of splintering wood, and Syl barely suppressed a yelp as the head tore loose from the wood. Fumbling, she did her best to support its weight, surprised by how heavy it was. Clutching it to her chest, she relaxed her muscles, and her breathing slowed - but she wasn't done yet. No, not nearly.

Determined, she laid down parallel to the beam, hugging the dragon's head against her chest like it was the only thing she valued in the whole world - and, in truth, it was. Revenge was the sole thing she had left to live for, and by the gods, she swore she would get it, lest she forget what and who had gotten her stuck on that detestable island.

As she dragged herself back inside, she had a moment to stare down her length at the wooden figure still sitting on her stomach. The paint was chipped corroded to the point where it was hard to say if there had ever really been any at all. Still, it was obvious that there had been some effort put into it once, but not much. Much of the lower half of the mouth had rotted or fallen away, letting the spikes formed by the top of the mouth poke through the fibers on her blouse and into her skin. Even better, she thought.

Yet oddly enough, as she sat back upon the beam, she felt a trace of doubt growing in the back of her mind. Grinding her teeth, she chastised herself. No, she couldn't back down now. Why would she? It was perfect, perfect.

With a nod, she crawled forward along the beam, the dragon's head weighing heavily in her left hand, setting her off balance. Soon enough, however, she had arrived at the spot - Not directly above, but near, the two men below. If she moved any farther forward, the light from the small, dwindling fire would be visible, and they could see her by doing no more than glancing up. But she didn't need to drop it. She would lob it - hard. The man had a thick skull in more ways than one, and Vikings didn't just go down that easily. And if she didn't throw it hard enough...

She swallowed. Maybe I shouldn't be here. Maybe I should just-

NO! She screamed back at her mind. Why was she so hesitant about this? It was everything she had wished for since she set foot on that island.

Taking a deep breath she raised the carving above her head, expecting them to react somehow. Mildew kept on talking, and Bjarke didn't so much as blink.

She let out her breath.

It was perfect. So perfect…

Too perfect.

No, she knew this wasn't a trap. And she knew she could do it, too.

Sure, she could run as soon as she dropped it, but the dragon's head wouldn't have made it from the end beam of his roof to Bjarke's head alone. Mildew would know someone was there, and he would know someone dropped it - but he would also know not to tell anyone. Given his shifty nature, she knew he would be smarter than to go crying to Berk about him. This man was an enemy, after all - and Mildew had consorted with him, traded their secrets to him. No - he would be better off dumping his body in the ocean, keeping the gold, and forgetting it had ever taken place. Still, he might try to make chase, but given the fact that he needed a staff to lean on half the time, and was somehow even bonier than Hiccup, she doubted he would make it more than a few feet out of the door before she was gone.

It wasn't her abilities that made her stop - she knew she could do it, and she knew she could probably get away with it if she tried. Even in the worst situation, she would be able to find her way out of it.

What mattered here… Was justice.

She wanted to. She so wanted to, and she knew it would be exactly what the bastard deserved. She had the means to carry it out right there in her hands, and no one would know, but…

But it was nothing new. Of course, she had never killed a man, nor any creature she could remember. But hiding in the lofts and rafters of houses? Carrying out dirty tricks, stealing and even considering murdering those that couldn't see her?

To Hiccup, or Astrid, they might've been shocked - as much as the girl seemed to hate her, she had never seen her in her element, and neither had her scrawny boyfriend. But to anyone back on her tribe, to Bjarke, to her mother, this would be exactly what they expected. To live like a coward, and kill like a coward. There would be some sadness, perhaps some shock at his death, but if they were ever to find out that the blow was dealt by her hand… Not a soul would be surprised in the slightest. "Typical," they would say, "Always knew she was a traitor, and a wimp of a traitor, too. Couldn't even be bothered to face him herself."

She couldn't do it.

Not here.

But this didn't mean she planned on quitting her tactics, either, and he would still get what he deserved - but on different terms. She didn't have the power or the fighting skills to take her mother or Bjarke on in single combat; she knew that. Even with hours upon hours of ruthless training from Astrid, she could never hope to best either of them alone, never mind with an entire tribe at their backs. But still, she needed to prove them wrong. To show them openly that they didn't know everything about her, about her life, or herself.

She would never gain their complete trust again, she knew that much - she had lost that chance long before she set foot on that island, if she'd ever had a chance in the first place. But to show them up, to prove them wrong, to humiliate her mother and Bjarke in front of everyone that had ever looked up to them… That was the revenge she wanted. And she would get it - she knew she would.

Just not today.

With a sigh, she let the arms back down to her knees, the carving falling with a soft thump onto her knees. She shifted awkwardly, realizing how tired she was. She was about to set the head down until there was a heavy slap of pages below her, making her jump. She glanced back down into the room, to see the burly man picking up his helm.

Bjarke was leaving.

He was leaving with the book.

With a start, she remembered why she was there in the first place. In her immature and reckless plan to take her revenge, she had forgotten - she had a job to do.

Panicking, she looked around, - Gods, how was she so stupid - searching for something to stall him, to stop him from leaving, before she came to rest on the figure in her hands. Her eyes widened.

As quickly as she dared, she crawled to the vent at the back. With one last glance back into the house, she stuck her head - and the carving - outside once again.

She was going on a whim, here; they might not hear it, and even if they did, there were a host of other problems that could arise. On top of that, she would only have one shot.

So I'd better make it count.

Sucking in her breath, she raised the head up to eye level once again, then hurled it down at the pile of rotting wood leaning against the back of the house. The wooden carving collided with the stack, forcing it to collapse with a satisfying CRUNCH. Some logs rolled beyond the house, but not many got so far. Most simply fell apart as soon as the pile fell, their structural integrity long-since compromised. She had achieved her goal, but the question still remained; had it been enough?

Ducking her head inside, she looked back down into the house, and smiled.

"'t was that? You said you checked the house-" Bjarke was saying.

"I swear I did!" Mildew yelled.

He snorted and started to step past him, toward the back door. "Guess you were wrong, then."

"Ah, ah," He chided, pointing at the book still in Bjarke's hand. "Not so fast. You're not taking a step out of this house until I get the second half of my payment, ye' hear me? Leave it here."

He narrowed his eyes. "You think this is some kind of trick? Half of the people on this island want me dead, and the other half want you dead, from what I've heard. I haven't brought anyone, old man."

Still, Mildew did not budge.

"Fine, ye' bastard," he sneered, throwing the book on a table. "You get your wish. Now come on, before I lose what little patience I have left for ye'."

The two walked outside, and Syl gave a silent cry of joy. This was her chance - but she didn't have much time.

Lithe as a cat, she sank down into the house beam-by-beam, until her feet landed the floor with a soft creak. She glanced out to the door, but the two were preoccupied with looking for something, and as she had expected, neither had the thought to look back inside.

She rushed over to the table and picked up the book, surprised at how light it was. A quick glance at its cover confirmed what she had seen from above - it was leather bound, and obviously very old, with the cover peeling at the seems, and the pages frayed and uneven from years of reading. That seemed really weird, since, from what she could tell, it had been in that safe for years. The book was also quite large, and despite its weight, it took both of her hands to hold it.

With a grunt, she shoved the book underneath her shoulder, and was about to turn to the door and bolt-

She stopped.

Bjarke's helmet was still lying on the table.

He must've set it down when he went outside, She thought. And it seemed a shame to just… Leave it there.

Of course, she hadn't changed her mind - her true payback would still come another day. But it couldn't hurt to leave a warning - a calling card, of sorts.

She thrust her hand into her pocket, hoping to find something to write with - a small knife, or even a splinter of wood would be enough for her to carve a message into the leather lining of his helmet. But instead, she found something else.

A piece of paper was crumpled up into a tiny ball in the depths of her pocket. She pulled it out, trying to remember where she had gotten it. Hiccup, maybe? No, she would remember him giving it to her, he was far too shy to do sneak it into her pocket, anyway. What would he do that for, anyway? Astrid was already crossed out for multiple reasons.

Was it the twins? They seemed like true pranksters, she had learned that, but this wasn't large-scale enough for them, either. Snotlout seemed realistic - he occurred to her as the kind of person that might slip a love note under her door. But that didn't explain how it got into her pocket.

As soon as she unfolded the paper, she remembered.

It was a symbol she had grabbed off of Hiccup's workstation in the smith a few days ago. It had looked interesting, so she decided to borrow it - she had always had a bit of an admiration for drawings and sketches, which made Hiccup's workshop a quintessential Valhalla for the more creative half of her mind. In her defense, she told herself, it was only a matter of time until she borrowed something from him.

She had only a moment to look at it - some sort of fancy gray circle in the shape of a 'C', with a few lines and shapes running off of it - before she stuck it in his helm, and headed for the door. It would have to do.

After a thorough sweep of the area, Bjarke walked back into the house, followed by Mildew, who was holding the remains of a wooden dragon head in one of his hands, looking quite triumphant.

"Old bugger was bound to fall off someday, I suppose. This whole place is falling apart. Made quite a crash, though, I wonder what-"

Bjarke stopped in his tracks, forcing the old man to stop.

"Mildew," he said. "Where did you put the book?"

"What're you talking about?" He complained. "I'm a man of my word. You were the last person holding it, and a bit reluctant to let it go, if my memory serves correctly."

"Aye, and now you know why," he growled, pointing at the table.

Mildew followed his gesture, trying to see what he was going on about, before his eyes widened in shock.

The book was gone.

He rushed to the table, bent down to his knees, and began throwing aside any object he could find around the table in a mad frenzy. \

"Gods, damn you!" He cursed. "Trespassers, thieves! I should've known."

He whirled on Bjarke. "Is this your doing, man? Is this some kind of trick?!"

"No," he shook his head. "But it matters not. I've seen what I needed - what Brenna needed. And if someone saw me - saw us - it's best I leave as soon as possible. But since you couldn't deliver the book safely…"

He crossed to the other side of the house, and picked up the gold he had deposited on the table earlier, and attached it to his waist. Mildew just stared on, muttering nonsense about burglars and dragons. "I'll be taking this, and-"

He frowned as he reached for his helmet. A small piece of paper was sticking out of the top, with something scribbled onto it.

He snatched it up, and stared at it for a moment. Then he handed it to Mildew.

"This mean anything to you?" He asked.

Mildew grabbed the paper, his mustache wiggling in annoyance, before his eyes softened.

"Yes," he said, "Yes… I believe I have… If only I could remember where…"

Bjarke's eyes furrowed as the room settled into silence. The embers of the fire had burnt down to almost nothing since he had first gotten there. Still, it provided just enough light for the two to see each other's faces.

"There's something ye' should know," he said, in the lowest, deepest undertone he could manage. "There's a girl we think has run away to your island - gone traitor from us. She could be anywhere, at any time. Has anybody had food go missing lately? Had any valuable goods stolen? I know you have ears in the town."

"What's 'er name?" Mildew asked, his eyes set on the drawing.

"It doesn't matter," he spat. "She'll blend in anywhere - in the woods, on the mountain - harder to spot than a white fox in winter."

"You think she did this?" he asked, still not looking up from the paper.

"Don't know," he said, his brows somehow furrowing even further. "This dragon-infested island of yours is full of crazies, from what I've heard."

"Mhm," he replied, with a nod. "Dragon-infested… Dragons… Dragon… That's it!"

He slapped the paper with his free hand.

"That's what?" Bjarke demanded. "Speak, old man!"

"The symbol - it's something that damnable boy designed. I remember seeing it sewn onto his clothes a few weeks ago."

Bjarke sneered. "Well, what is it?"

"A Night Fury," he cursed. "His symbol for a Night Fury."

Astrid was only just getting hungry when Hiccup arrived - on Toothless's back, shooting out of the sky and toward the ground, before he let his wings out at the last possible moment, circling the ravine and landing as gracefully as a dove. She couldn't help but to marvel at it - she had seen them pull the maneuver off hundreds of times before, but to think that she could do that with her wings-

No, she thought, letting out a growl. I can't think like that. That's how I turn full dragon, and I don't plan on letting that happen anytime soon.

She shook her head, trying to refocus, but it was too late - her mood had already gone sour.

Glancing up at the sky, then back at Toothless, she noticed something was wrong immediately.

WHERE'S SYL?

Hiccup froze in his tracks, his casual smile replaced with what almost looked like terror for a split second, before it disappeared.

"She's… Busy. In the village," he replied.

HICCUP

IF YOU'RE HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME

"I brought fish," he interrupted, pointing a thumb behind him. She saw he was right; two large baskets were attached to the saddle's sides, and immediately, her mood brightened. Then, seeing Toothless panting heavily, she felt a new emotion, one of the others she had come accustomed to of late; guilt.

"Uh, Toothless," She asked, not wanting to apologize to him, but not insult him, either. There was really nothing she could do for him, but she felt as though he deserved something - praise, or recognition, at least - though she wasn't sure what was customary among dragons, or if they even exchanged approval at all.

"How… How heavy are those?" She forced herself to turn away when he looked up at her.

"Heavy," he began, "But not as heavy as you."

She snapped her eyes back to the dragon, to see him grinning.

"Yeah, well," she sneered, trying to think of an insult. When none came, she settled for a threat. "Just be glad you've brought fish to me. You wouldn't like to see me otherwise."

Hiccup unlatched the baskets from his saddle, Toothless giving sighs of relief as each of them dropped to the ground. Then he opened one onto the ground, and dragged the other over to Astrid.

"Alright," he said, fiddling with the latch. Astrid stared at it - she could already taste the fish on her tongue. Sweet, wet, slippery as it dropped from her tongue down into her stomach...

He frowned, jiggling the latch harder, but it wouldn't budge. Astrid's eyes widened as she licked her lips - or where her lips were supposed to be. She felt like she might rip the basket apart soon herself if he didn't get it open.

"Come on," he said, pounding on the latch with his tiny fist. Gods, was he teasing her? If so, this was the cruelest punishment he had ever delivered - and this was Hiccup. She wanted the fish so badly, needed to feel them resting in the pit of her stomach. The thought was overwhelming. She felt drool drip out of her mouth...

"Gah!" Hiccup yelled as the hatch burst open, the basket falling over and fish spilling all over the ground.

Astrid didn't hesitate. She pounced on the fish, slurping up four in her first attack, and swallowing them as quickly as she could. Then came another wave, then another, then two more, three…

"Astrid," Toothless warned. "Don't eat so fast, or you'll-"

She stopped. Something was wrong. The fish tasted as good as usual - there was no denying that - but it felt… Different, as they traveled down her throat. Almost like they went somewhere else…

Something was wrong.

The fish tasted as good as usual - there was no denying that - but it felt… Different, as they traveled down her throat. Almost like they went somewhere else…

She got the feeling she did whenever she swallowed water too fast and it went down her windpipe. But this still wasn't the same - she didn't quite get the satisfactory feeling she had whenever she ate food. Instead, it felt more like the food was going into her lungs… Or her heart…

"Toothless!" She cried, forcing him to look up at her from his own pile of fish. "Help! What's happening to me? It feels like it's going into my… Heart, or something."

He tilted his head to the side, in a similar fashion to what Hiccup did whenever he heard rumors of a new dragon sighting.

"Your… Heart? Right into your heart?"

"Well... No," she admitted. "More like… The opposite of where it should be. On my right."

"Hmm," he snorted. He walked around her once, analyzing her, and then once again.

Then he fell over, laughing.

"What?" She asked, noticing Hiccup look up from his journal out of the corner of her eye. "What's so funny? This isn't very comfortable, you know."

He kept laughing in his gurgly, Toothless laugh, trying to send a few words every few seconds, but failing. "Ah, you… The fish, and… Your crop… The fish are in your… Haha…"

"My what?" She demanded. "What's a… Crop? Why are there fish in there?"

He didn't respond. She stomped her foot on the ground. "Toothless!"

With a few last snickers, he got back up on his feet, still grinning. "Your crop, it's… It's a pouch used to store food, so you can give them back to your hatchlings. Food won't digest in it, unless you move it down to your lower stomach."

"Lower… I have two stomachs?" She thought, then walked over to Hiccup, who was still watching them.

DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?

"About… What?" He asked.

DRAGONS HAVE A SECOND STOMACH

USED TO STORE FOOD

HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF ANYTHING LIKE THAT?

His eyes widened. "No, I… You have a second stomach?" He stood up. "Gods, that's amazing! That answers so many questions about-"

NEVER MIND

She looked back at Toothless, paw raised in the air, while Hiccup went on behind her.

"So… A second stomach, for storing fish… All dragons have them?"

He nodded. "All dragons can have their own hatchlings… So yes."

"Does it have any other uses?"

His shoulders seemed to slump a bit. "Well, you can use it to store fish if you know you'll be hungry later…" Here, he paused. "But, many moons ago, it was also how we brought smaller food back to the queen…"

She purred. She had discovered much earlier that the Queen was some sort of sore spot for the Night Fury - she had tried to avoid it since, but every so often it would pop up in conversation, and Toothless would just seem to drift off.

"So… How do I get it into my real stomach?" She asked, trying to change the subject. It must've worked, as Toothless blinked, and looked back up at her.

"It's pretty easy…" He said, "But you're not going to like it. You have to, ah…"

Trailing off, he picked up a fish and swallowed it. He was still for a moment, before he began convulsing, his head and neck rocking back and forth as a low gurgling sound came out of his throat. Her eyes widened; she knew what was going to happen next. She had seen him do it dozens of times.

A lump the same size as the one from a moment ago appeared, this time traveling up his throat instead of down and, sure enough, he opened his mouth a moment later to display the fish, saliva-coated and slimy on his tongue, but still intact. Then he swallowed it again.

She shivered. "I have to do that with… Every fish?"

He cooed. "How many did you swallow?"

She winced. Too many.

"Okay… What do I do?"

"Not much," he replied. "You just need to… Want it, to come back up, and let your throat take over."

"Can I not just make it go straight to my stomach?" She asked, with her last shred of hope.

"No. I've tried, but... It comes up every time."

"Alright," She nodded, trying to focus on the crop. It wasn't hard - with as many fish as she had swallowed, she could feel it like a bruise. They could probably see it bulging out of her chest, too, if it were exposed.

Then, she just… Told it to come back up. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, she felt it. The fish was traveling out of her crop, and before she knew it, her head was rocking back and forth just like Toothless. She felt it coming up and up, in rhythm with the beat of her heart, until-

"I KNEW IT!" The sound of her own voice yelled out from behind her. She felt a rush of anger, and all of a sudden, she felt something else moving up out of her throat - and ten times faster than the fish, at least. Her eyes widened as a tiny fireball shot out of her mouth, followed by the fish, crumbling and blackened with soot. There was an explosion on the ground in front of her, and she was almost knocked back as the taste of burning iron filled her mouth.

Then, there was silence - a deep, deep silence - as they all processed what had just happened. Then, the fish's skeleton collapsed into ash and dust, and Syl screamed.

"Dear GODS! What the hell was that?! You nearly just killed us all, you crazy-"

"No, no," Hiccup replied, stepping up to block Syl from lunging at her. "That was an accident. Astrid was trying to bring up a… An, uh…"

"Fish?" She asked. "Yeah, I know, I can see that."

You really thought you could keep this a secret from me? That I wouldn't find out? Well, you guessed wrong. We're supposed to be working as a team here, unless I'm mistaken. If you two think that you have the right to hide something from me..."

Astrid growled.

"But, you know what? Whatever. Keep feeding your inner dragon - I don't care anymore. Just remember why we're helping you, Astrid. Why I'm helping you."

That was when she noticed - Syl was carrying a large, leather-bound book under her arm. Could it be…?

"Oh, this?" She said, seeing her stare. "Yes, you're welcome. While you were here shooting off fireballs, and chowing down on rotting fish, I was getting work done."

Astrid glanced back at Hiccup, who, for whatever reason, looked leagues beyond nervous. Did this have something to do with his changing the subject earlier? Maybe he had suspected she was going to try something.

HOW DID YOU GET IT?

Astrid almost thought she saw her wink at Hiccup, before going on, "While I was in the Village, I decided to check out the back room of the Great Hall again," she explained. "And I found it. The book was back in the case - don't know who stole it, but it doesn't matter now, right? We got it."

I SUPPOSE

IT JUST SEEMS REALLY

"Convenient?" Syl said. "Yeah, but we're dealing with magic, anyway, so who knows what mystical forces are at work, here? Maybe I was meant to find it all along. Maybe all of this is happening for one big reason."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Hiccup said, stepping between them again, before turning to look at her. "You said you didn't have any… Trouble, getting it?

"A little," she shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Right, right," he gulped, glancing around the edges of the cliffs, with a look on his face to suggest that Vikings could sweep down into their ravine at any given moment. She didn't blame him, really; he had every right to be afraid of whatever scheme she was hatching. She certainly was.

"So," Pouting her lips, she held out the book in front of him and bent down on one knee. "Your book, Oh-Great-Dragon-Master."

He snorted as he picked it up. "Is that really what they call me?"

"You've got to give them credit," she smirked, "Most of them haven't met you yet."

Rolling his eyes, he opened the book. Toothless, as if on cue, came to sit behind him, just as Hiccup sat back against him in near-perfect sync. Syl fidgeted, stepping backward and refusing to let her eyes meet the Night Fury's own.

Taking a deep breath, he began flipping through the pages.

Astrid watched him closely, expecting to see looks of enlightenment or wonder in his eyes. After all, this was a magic book, and from the way everyone was making a fuss about it, it must've been a pretty important one. According to Hiccup, it might even have held the secret to bringing her back to normal. Gods, she hadn't realized what an exciting moment this could be!

But instead of a look of insight, his brows only furrowed the farther he went through it, until he threw it down in disgust.

"Look!" he gestured to the book. "It's... Broken! The letters are all… Fragmented! It looks like it's supposed to be Norse, but…"

Confused, she looked at the open page of the book - maybe he was just looking at it wrong, as unlikely as it seemed - but he was right. While there were obviously words separated out into sentences and the like, the letters were all fractions of what they were supposed to be. Every now and then, she could guess at what a few words might have been - but only a few.

"Not even any drawings," he sighed. "Which isn't exactly the usual Viking standard."

"And it's all the same, too…" He went on, "Hundreds of pages, but..."

He slumped against Toothless. "Astrid, I… This could take weeks, months, years to translate…"

There was silence for a moment, until Syl voiced Astrid's own thoughts.

"Years?!" Syl shrieked. "We don't have years. We barely have a few hours before your father gets back, and besides…"

She sucked in her breath.

BESIDES WHAT?

"Uh… Nothing. Just lots of problems that could arise if we… If we don't get whatever you need from this book."

SINCE WHEN ARE YOU SO CONCERNED?

I'M THE ONE THAT'S BEEN TURNED INTO

A DAMN NIGHT FURY

"I think Syl's right," Hiccup interjected. "We need to get this to Gothi, soon. Like, now."

And with that, he grabbed her hand, and began leading her over to Toothless, until she ripped it away. Then, sticking two fingers in her mouth, she gave a whistle loud enough for the whole island to hear, and sure enough, Stormfly swooped down into the ravine a few seconds later. Realizing that she wasn't going to get another chance, Astrid called out to the Night Fury.

"Wait! Toothless!" He stopped just as he was about to take off. "What… What's going on with these two? Do you know anything about this? What are they hiding?"

The dragon looked at her. Then he looked back at Hiccup and Syl.

He purred. "Sorry. No idea, Astrid. We've got to go."

His wings expanded, forcing her to step back, but before he took off, he added, "And try not to eat so fast next time, alright, Astrid? It's dangerous to just rush into things like that."

And with that, they were gone.

"Well, that was… Close," Hiccup remarked, once they had put a sizable distance between themselves and the ravine.

Syl shrugged. "I've been through closer and made it out fine."

"Did those instances happen to include one of your parents getting you out of it at the last second?" He asked. The way she shot that look at him from dragon-back was an answer in itself.

"Sorry, sorry," he replied. "I didn't mean to hit a sore spot, I swear. My Dad used to bail me out of stuff a lot, is all. Helps when he's the Chief, I guess."

"I would disagree…" She mumbled. "So what did your Dad catch you doing?"

He laughed. "Catch me doing? My... Incidents, didn't exactly tend to be that small, or… Quiet. I, uh… Well, I messed up stuff around town. A lot. 'Hiccup the walking Hazard,' they used to call me. They, uh, they still do, actually."

"Really?" She asked. "I mean, the twins, sure, but you? You're by far one of the most careful people I know."

He smiled. "Well, I wasn't always. For a while, I was just… Desperate to prove myself, I guess. I built a lot of weapons, mechanisms, and things to help in the raids. At least, I tried to. They might've worked if I'd ever, uh…" He frowned for a moment, before smiling again and leaning down to pat Toothless on the neck.

"Well, one of them did, anyway. That's how I met Toothless, here."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard the stories," She rolled her eyes.

His face fell. "The… Stories? There are stories?"

"Well, yeah, of course," she replied. "You're the 'Dragon-Conqueror'. You tamed a wild dragon of the wilderness - a Night Fury, at that. Nobody's ever done that before. No one."

He sighed. "It's not taming, it's training. There's a difference-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," She waved him off.

They flew in silence for another moment.

"So," he asked. "How did it really go? You know, the…?"

"Robbery?" She said. "You can't be afraid to say a word like robbery, Hiccup. For gods' sakes, you're hiding your Night Fury girlfriend in the woods, away from all other civilization. And this was to help least you could do was admit that you're an accomplice in this."

"Not a willing accomplice," he complained.

"Yeah, well, neither was I," she retorted, "But here we are."

He frowned, as she went back to staring up at the moon.

"Yeah… I guess not," he admitted. "So, you stole it, but… How? I saw you sneak into the house, through the smoke vent - very impressive, by the way. I would never have thought of that - but then Toothless showed up, and… We had to leave. So what happened next?"

"What would you expect?" She gave an offhand wave. "I went in, got the book, and went out. Simple as that. Mildew's probably back there reeling right now."

"Yeah, he must be…" Hiccup responded. "There… There really weren't any other… Complications, at all?"

"No," she said. "None at all."