Fate of the Dragons

by ReclusiveShadows

With Hiccup's role of 'Chief' on the horizon and a new tension between Berk and several nearby tribes stuck in their old ways, Hiccup, Toothless, and Astrid already have enough problems on their hands. But when a spy from an enemy island 'accidentally' turns Astrid into a Night Fury, things are bound to get a lot more interesting!

22. The Departure

Good day to you all!

Glad you could make it. I, obviously, suck at schedules. I just keep getting worse, and I really can't stress enough to you how sorry I am for it. I've honestly lost track of how many weeks it's been.

With that said, I may - MAY - be updating Chapters 2 & 4, and any others that had Author's Notes that got cut off for some reason, or horrible errors of a similar extent in the chapters themselves. It just looks really stupid, and it's kind of sad that I haven't picked up on them 'till now. So to all of my followers, if you get any new emails in the next few weeks concerning this story… that's probably all it is.

Ugh, didn't I make a promise that I wouldn't make any more lengthy Author's Notes? Sorry, everyone. I'm doing my best, really! Nonetheless, please be sure to follow for updates and review!

I don't own How to Train Your Dragon.

---

'Twas the young Prince's last-spoken word in his partings of spirit, ere he mounted the fire, the battle-tides burning, teasing upon his skin…

Teasing his skin…

"Prince… Teasing… Teasing... his skin… Mounted the-"

There was a low growl, and he shuddered. Had the dragon returned? It couldn't be — it was dead, vanquished… It was—

There was another growl, louder this time, and Hiccup's eyes snapped open. Two iridescent greens stared back into them, each framed by black scales.

"D-dragon!" He yelped, jumping up, his terror only increased when he realized it was pitch black, and he couldn't see anything. There came another low purr, and he became even more confused.

"Toothless?" He narrowed his eyes, peering back into the curious reptile's own. "Toothless, I- oh, bud, I'm so sorry! I didn't think you were… I was having a dream that, about the…" He sighed, and took the dragon's head in his hands. "I'll never be afraid of you."

The Night Fury's eyes almost seemed to widen at this, as though he had just stumbled upon some secret. Hiccup might have taken note of this, had he not been nudged roughly in the back a second later.

HICCUP

He could barely read the runes in the dark, but as his eyes adjusted, he was able to recognize his own name. Looking up, the outline of Astrid's body became visible, as well. It was the darkest time of the night - the moon had fallen beyond the horizon, and the sun was beginning to rise over the other side, making the stars vanish, too. Something in the back of his mind told him this was important, but he chose to ignore it, his distant mind still trying to make sense of the situation.

"Astrid, what…? Did you wake me up? Did I fall asleep here? Why is it so dark out?"

HICCUP

YOU FELL ASLEEP GOING ON

ABOUT THAT POEM

AND WHILE I'M SURE IT'S VERY IMPORTANT

BUT YOU NEED TO

"The Saga! It's still getting to me, even in my dreams, apparently," he said before she could finish.

The book was, indeed, everything he had hoped it would be; a mere glance through a few pages held tales and legends of far-away lands, strange artifacts and ancient peoples, and dozens of other things he knew he would be spending every second of his free time reading about in the next few days - or weeks. Still, they had that book for a reason, and so he had reluctantly flipped through until he first saw the word dragon pop up several times in a section. They didn't know how long they had it for, after all—

HICCUP

He frowned at her insistence. "It just doesn't make any sense. The Steel and the Flame, I know the poem - it's been awhile since I read it, but I'm positive something's wrong with it. In the story, a warrior, full of valor and bravery and all, goes off to fight this dragon that's been terrorizing his Village for a long time. He manages to kill it, but almost dies, as well… But the way this makes it sound, he did die… or something. And, if anything, he would have been a King - not a Prince. Still, just about everything else is the same, and this seems to be the only section they left in here, whoever copied it."

HICCUP

"And that line! Mounting the fire… Teasing upon his skin… The scales over your skin were the first part, weren't they? And that other part, mounting the fire - maybe it means in a more metaphorical sense?" He shook his head. "I don't know, Astrid. I just don't know. Hell, I barely got to glance through it last night. It could just as well be nothing, maybe an error of some kind. That tends to happen when stories are copied over too many times-"

She growled at him, loud enough that Toothless opened a half-lidded eye to look at her from where he had been trying to fall back asleep.

HICCUP

I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I'M THE ONE

TELLING YOU TO DO THIS

BUT YOU NEED TO LEAVE

NOW

"Leave? Why would I need to-" his eyes widened as he noticed the light peeking over the lip of the cove. "Oh, gods, the — the diplomacy mission! My dad is gonna kill me if I'm late for that—"

Clutching the book in his hands, he started up, running toward Toothless, who gave a curious, if tired, purr, before stopping. Next came the sound of his palm and forehead colliding, with a groan to top it off.

"I-I was supposed to get this back to Gothi! Ah, Hiccup, all these responsibilities and you stayed up all night reading a book! Though it's not like it's the first time, I guess… Not exactly typical Viking behavior, either. Gods, I already sound like Dad, too…"

He winced as his eyes moved up to Astrid, and she gave a low purr, the only calm sound she could seem to make in this gods-forsaken body. The poor boy looked about ready to collapse at any second. Toothless took note of this, and quickly moved behind him for support.

"Astrid, I… I'm… I'm really sorry. I really, really should have asked you about this sooner. Should have told you about it sooner. I won't be able to do anything to help you while I'm away... and now we don't even have time to talk about how… how I'm gonna be gone for…"

He sighed again, as did she. She should've been mad at him just then, and a part of her wanted to be — but she couldn't bring herself to. She could never stay mad at Hiccup for long, anyway. Besides, her angry scribbling was really not what he needed just then; it would have to wait.

YOU'RE RIGHT, HICCUP

BUT I'M NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW

WHAT'S IMPORTANT IS THAT YOU HAVE THE BOOK

AND THE ONLY REASON YOU STILL HAVE IT

IS BECAUSE YOUR FATHER IS LETTING YOU KEEP IT

SO YOU HAVE TO DO WHAT HE SAYS

His brows furrowed. "But Syl's decoy-"

WOULDN'T HAVE WORKED FOR MUCH LONGER

IT WAS A CLEVER TRICK, I'LL ADMIT

BUT SOONER OR LATER, YOUR FATHER WOULD

HAVE FIGURED IT OUT

OTHERWISE, HE WOULD HAVE SEEN YOU

FLYING UP TO GOTHI'S EACH DAY

AND GOTTEN SUSPICIOUS

THOUGH I'M SURE THAT HE ALREADY IS

GO, HICCUP

IF YOU REALLY FEEL THE NEED TO DO SOMETHING

ASK AROUND ON YOUR TRIPS

SEE IF ANYONE KNOWS ABOUT THE BOOK

OR ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENED TO ME

OR WHAT'S HAPPENING TO TOOTHLESS

"Yeah… okay…" he said when she had finally finished, almost at a whisper. Still, she could see his mind begin to work it out, clicking and turning like one of his inventions. "I guess I could… I could make that work. I'll have to play it off… The first trip is to the Stone Spears in the West, and who knows where the others will be... Not only that, but I'll have to ask Gothi if I can keep The Compendium during nights… Maybe I can come here then, and we can read it… We won't have the resources for the mixtures for much longer this late in the season, but I can stockpile what I can find, and maybe, if you could look for some, too…"

She let out a coo, formally ending his personal mumbling.

IT'S OK HICCUP

I KNOW THAT YOU WILL FIGURE IT OUT

THAT WE WILL FIGURE IT OUT

FOR NOW, THOUGH

YOU HAVE TO GO

"I have to…" He frowned, glancing over to where Toothless was already shifting uncomfortably in the saddle he had forgotten take off of him the night before.

"We…" He stood up, determined. "We will talk about this, Astrid. I promise. I… I have a lot to make up for. I won't let you down, and… and I'll do whatever I can. I..."

I wish I didn't have to leave you this way. His stupid brain caught the words just before his heart forced them out of his throat, and they stuck there. For a moment, he was worried he might manage to choke on them, before he swallowed hard and moved to Toothless.

Astrid stared at the dragon as Hiccup began to readjust his saddle, slipping the book into a knapsack he had sewn onto it. "The Stone Spears… That's a long way off, two hours flight, maybe three, at least. That's not taking it easy, either. Toothless… Are, are you sure—?"

His eyes flashed, though he managed to resist making any movement otherwise. "I have to do it. For Hiccup, and his father, and the nest… And for you."

"And for yourself," she added. "Remember, the quicker you can get these done, the more time he can put into looking for a… A cure, for you. With that said… Be sure you're still alive by the time he finds it. All this flying you'll be doing isn't even good for a healthy dragon, never mind a, uh…" she trailed off, but he nodded.

"Don't worry about me, Astrid. In the meantime… Train. And remember what I said about your leaving here again."

She frowned. "I'll give it some thought... fly safe, Toothless."

He managed a toothless grin. "And you as well, Astrid."

The boy was perched on his back, ready to fly as they finished speaking. He raised an eyebrow at the two of them — it must have been beyond obvious that they were talking — but didn't go any further. As the dragon spread his wings, Hiccup called down to her, "I'll have Stormfly bring you something to eat before I leave. It's not exactly like dragons carrying baskets of fish off into the woods is anything new around here anyway, is it?"

She listened for the audible click, as he shifted the lever to the tailfin. Then, eager to take off, the dragon's wings snapped up, and they were away. She watched them as far as she could, that time. It might have been the last time she would see them for at least a day, if not a few. Normally, that would have been fine - she could live without Hiccup, after all. But travelling as far away as he was, and with Toothless's own doubts about their safety under his protection...

She frowned, ripping her eyes away from the skies.

What's wrong with me?

---

"Oh, Hiccup! Good, I was startin' to wonder where you were. Ye' must've gotten back late last night, eh? Anyway, Gobber's still lookin' for the third page of the fealty documents. Ye've probably got a few minutes, at least."

Hiccup stared at his father for a few seconds, his mouth opening a few times, only for labored gasps to come out, the result of trying to run down the gangplanks to the docks on two uneven feet.

"I… Wh…" He was eventually able to wheeze out. "Papers…? You mean… You…"

Stoick frowned, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ye' don't need to leave yet, son. I'd suggest you go say gidbye to Astrid - someone saw her stumblin' back to her house last night, a little while after the sun went down. Don't know what you two were doin, but she looked pretty tired, from what I've heard. Anyway, good spirit, son! I'm glad to see you showing so much enthusiasm for this!"

Stoick stared at him for a moment longer. Once it was clear he wasn't going to say anything else, he sauntered away down the dock, off to help some other men trying to tie together a broken mast with a rope.

Hiccup took a deep breath, before doubling over onto his knees, coughing. He had barely had time to fly up the mountain to Gothi's, entering and leaving to drop it off with little more than a, "Hi-Gothi-here's-the-book-I'm-sorry-I-couldn't-get-it-to-you-sooner-bye!" From there, he had pushed the dragon down into the village at a full-on nosedive, eliciting an unnecessary screech from Toothless and making several duck their heads in fear as they came to land near the edge of the town.

Still, the dragon managed a smile as he met him at the top of the docks again, and Hiccup had to respond with his own as he ruffled his ears. "Come on, bud. Let's find out what 'Astrid' was up to last night. Though I'm not sure I want to know, to be honest."

---

There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary, really. Stormfly was resting in the shed next to the house, sound asleep. The rising sun revealed that no extreme damage had been done to her house - nor the rest of the village, for that matter. Lastly, he couldn't hear any yelling or screaming, even when he drew within the fifty-foot radius of the building. It was more than he could usually say when he went over to Astrid's house.

Still, his gut twisted as he lifted his fist up to the door. With the way she had stormed off last night, what she had done, and what she had said…

Clenching his teeth, he moved away from the door, walking over to Stormfly's shed. He had a feeling he wouldn't want to deal with whatever angry temperament he was met with in there, and besides… He had promised Astrid he would do this, anyway.

"Hey, girl," he said as he approached the dreary Nadder. He rested a hand on her snout as she slowly woke up, and she let out a chortle. "I need you to do me a favor…"

With that, he gave the dragon specific instructions on bringing half of her morning fish basket out to Astrid in the woods, with extra emphasis on not eating it before she got there. Stormfly was a smart dragon, though, and she seemed to understand, and he watched her as she took off a few minutes after he stepped away, a particular someone's breakfast dangling in her claws. A few people already awake in the village started at the sight, but most simply ignored it — a dragon flying off into the woods with a basket of fish wasn't exactly the strangest thing most of them had seen in the past few months, anyway.

Toothless gave a low purr from behind him as he watched her fly away, and he sighed. "Fine, fine," he said, walking back over to the front step. "Guess I couldn't avoid it forever…"

"Uh, Astrid?" He said, rapping on the weather-beaten wood. "I, uh… just wanted to know how you were… Astrid?"

His hand went up to the door again, before he froze. Her parents. He had forgotten about her parents! It was only just past dawn — she was probably fast asleep, one way or another, and they usually didn't get up 'till later. And here he was, knocking on their door at dawn!
A bit embarrassed, he glanced around to see if anyone was staring at him. Luckily, not many people seemed to be out yet, and in truth, it wouldn't be the first time he had been up knocking on her door that early in the morning.

"I'm an idiot," he said, shoulders slumping as he turned away from the door. "Come on, bud. It's not like she wants to talk to us, anyway. We should just…"

But yet again, he found himself frozen in his tracks.

He should have left. He really should have. Syl hadn't caused any catastrophic damage to Berk, it seemed — and if people were saying they had seen her walking home late, she must not have run away...

But… just out of a mere curiosity… he pushed on the door.

It opened.

He sucked in his breath. Really, that should've been his second warning. A chill went down his spine, at least — but then, his concern and worried curiosity took over, and he found himself moving through the doorway into the dark house.

"Oh, bud," he whispered to the dragon, who was already poking his head through the door, "What are we getting ourselves into?"

---

"Where did you get this?" Her brother asked, holding a small loaf of brown bread in his hands. Syl didn't respond, nor did she meet his eyes.

"Syl…" she winced as his voice became stern. She hated when he was like this. She was just trying to help… And she was hungry...

"Syl," he repeated, his voice softening a bit. He bent down on his knees, until he met her eyes with his. "I'm not going to be mad, okay? I just want to know where you got it."

"I…" She tried to hold back a sniffle, but failed, and let the tears run down her face instead as she sobbed. She was crying — crying in front of her brother. He was strong for her every day; why couldn't she be strong for him, too? What was wrong with her?

He gave a gentle sigh, and waited until she was able to form a sentence, or at least tried to.

"I didn't… I was hungry, and I… we haven't had anything to eat for days… It was just sitting on someone's table in the village… I could see it through the door, and... Daddy hasn't come back home yet… Where is he?"

"Dad is…" He frowned as she descended back into quiet sobs, and looked at the bread in his hand. When she finally looked back up again, her nose feeling sore, he was smiling. It wasn't a real smile — she rarely saw those anymore, on anyone at all — but it was enough, and so she smiled back.

"Our little secret," he said, pushing the bread back into her hands. "Tomorrow we can make a jam out of some of the berries we pick in the woods, if you'd like. Just remember - I'm not saying this is okay."

"But… But what if we run out again? I can't sleep at night, and with all that sword-fighting you're doing… You must be hungry…?"

"I…" he grimaced. "I can find us some food, ok? I'll take a few lessons off from dragon training to go hunting for us, alright? There has to be some good meat left on this gods-forsaken rock…" he ended with a mutter, before seeming to remember who he was talking to.

"Just…" He cleared his throat, trying to seem authoritative. "Just don't steal, Syl. I don't care who you see doing it, who tells you it's okay. Don't do it, please."

She sucked in a shaky breath, and nodded.

"Good," he said, standing back up. "Get that bread wrapped up. Make sure it's well hidden, too - put it in a cabinet, or something. Our secret. Understand?"

He managed one last smile down at her before he ran back into the town, hand resting on the hilt of a sword strapped awkwardly to his waist.

She looked down at the loaf of bread in her hands, and hugged it tight to her chest.

"Wait," she squeaked, her eyes closed. "Big broth-"

But when she opened her eyes, he was gone. In fact, everything was gone - the village, her brother, the bread…

She squinted. Wherever she was, it was foggy. She could barely see a few feet around her. But there was one thing she could make out.

Water.

She was standing in it. It stretched off in every direction she could see, only an inch high, maybe less. Not much more than a large puddle, really.

Until it started rising.

Up around her feet, shrouding them up to her ankles. She stepped back, nervously. The water kept rising. She took another step and another. Faster and faster.

The water kept rising. She wanted her brother. She was running now, searching for solace the endless lake. But the weight of the water tugged at her feet, and she fell.

She was panicking, struggling to get to her feet as the water surged around her, rising higher and higher, touching the base of her neck. Her hands searched along the ground for a way to push herself up, but it was slippery, and every attempt just made her fall back in.

No, she thought, no no NO, NO, NO! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I CAN'T S-

She shot up in bed, reeling and clutching her pillow. Terror swept over her as she realized that she still felt wet... but wasn't drowning. No, her face was wet from tears. That was normal enough. But just towards the base of her legs, as well... More specifically…

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make out two green orbs staring out at her from the edge of her bed, each as wide and full as the moon. Hers widened in kind, and she pushed the pillow up to her face to muffle a scream.

The damned dragon was licking her feet.

"Toothless, what did-" came a voice. "How did you even manage to get in… Oh… Syl? Uh… did Toothless, ah… Sorry about that. He does that when he wants to, you know, wake people up, sometimes. It's, uh, pretty effective, as you can see..."

"Hiccup," she said, calmly at first. "What are you and that dragon doing in my room?!"

"Oh, well, we just came to wish you well before we're off, and… Wait a second-"
"Wish me well?!" She asked, straining her eyes to make out his outline, if only so she could jump up and strangle him. "You snuck into my room! With a Night Fury!"

"No, Syl, what happened to your—? Hang on a moment," The room went silent for a moment, then there were footsteps followed by a rattling sound, and she realized he must've been grasping about for the shutters at the back - it was the only real window in the room.

She took the time to gather her wits about her, only to find that that was incredibly difficult. A dull ache in her head made her want to grind her teeth, and her tongue felt dry as sand. She tried to figure out why, though her memory of the night before was still a bit fuzzy. What exactly…

The shutters flew open, and light streamed into the room - right onto her face. She groaned, raising a hand up to block the sun from her face, nearly falling out of bed in trying to get away from it. A cold morning air blew through into the house, and she shivered. The dragon, who had somehow managed to fit himself in her room, purred at her. She shivered again.

"Syl, you're…" Hiccup looked down at her, in horror. "You're wearing your clothes,"

"Yeah, what did you expect, pervert? Waking me up here at, what, dawn? Gah, something's wrong with my head…"

"N-no," he stammered, blushing. "You're… You're wearing your clothes. And your hair, and your voice… What…?"

Confused, she stared down at herself for a moment, her mind still trying to push past whatever wall had been thrown in front of it…

Ah, she realized, looking down at her own tunic and darker clothing. That would do it.

The night before came back to her all at once - her argument with Hiccup and Astrid, making a strategic withdrawal, getting her old voice back with some mead from the hall… That would explain the headache, at least. And, of course, her meeting with the town's resident crazy old man…

She was competent enough at least not to give anything about their 'deal' away to Hiccup. Still, she would need an excuse for all of this, and her mind wasn't quite sharp enough to come up with anything good just yet. But Hiccup didn't look like he was about to leave, either…

"I uh," she glanced around as her eyes half-adjusted to the light, only slightly on fire, now. "I just wanted to… be me, again…" Her groggy mind suddenly produced.

"Be… yourself?" He asked, sounding about as confused as she was.

"Y-yeah," she decided. "Wanted to, uh, get away from this whole 'Astrid,' thing. I know you like her and all, but, we all need breaks, y'know?"

He sighed. "So… That's what you were talking about? With the whole, 'something you should have done a long time ago,' bit?"

"Yeah, sure… downed a couple bottles of mead I borrowed. Just hung out here for a little while, put on my old clothes… It was nice. I almost snuck out to the woods, actually. So much easier to move around in these… Astrid's clothes are just so tight…"

"Wait… Just these two?" He frowned, looking down at the empty bottles in his hand. "Man… For a Viking, you really can't hold your liquor."

Her eyes narrowed, and she made an effort to get out of the bed, but as she opened her mouth to make another comeback, she slumped over, nearly falling to the ground before Hiccup caught her at the last moment, giving out a slight yelp as he nearly collapsed under her weight.

She looked up at him with a weak smile as she lay back in his arms. "Is this what you wish you could do with Astrid?" It wasn't exactly clever, but she needed to say something.

He blushed and carried her back over to the bed as she groaned again, grabbing her forehead.

"Well, I'm glad you got some time off, I guess… But I need to know you can keep this up while I'm, uh, away…" he grimaced.

"Don't worry about it," she waved a hand. "I've got it covered. Now let me get back to sleep."

"Are, you sure about that? You, uh, you didn't sound that great when you were asleep. Are you having nightm-"

"No!" she yelled. "It was your damned reptile licking the fuzz off my feet. Though to be honest, it's not the worst way I've woken up lately…"

His frown deepened, and he continued, "We're still not leaving, Syl. What if someone walked in here and saw you?"

"You mean like you did, just now?" She asked. "But... if you insist, wait outside the door. There's a basin of water around here somewhere… I can dye my hair in that. It'll take a minute, so don't get impatient with me — you can't rush perfection. And get the Night Fury out of here, too. It's bad enough having to deal with him outside of the house..."

"Where's the potion?" he said, glancing around the room. She pointed to a cabinet just under the window, and he went to pick it up. The liquid still gleamed in its vial when he picked it up, but when he offered it back to her, she shook her head.

"No, no," she groaned again, her hand massaging her temples. "I want to be me for as long as I can, thanks. I'll take it after I change. Now go."

With one last grimace at her, he made himself scarce after Toothless, once again, squeezed himself through the doorway to her room. The door swung shut behind him, and he heard the click of a latch sliding into place. He had installed it for her — for Astrid — just a few months ago.

"Ugh, I hope the gods find this amusing," he said. "Not only did she get herself drunk and nearly caught, but now my Dad's probably waiting for me! Can you believe this, Toothless?"

But the dragon was preoccupied — this time, with the stairs. He had practically lept over all of them in getting up to the second floor, but now, as he stared down the steps, his feet danced worriedly before the first ledge. They didn't have steps at their house, Hiccup remembered. There was only a ladder, and even so, he would usually jump the height to the second floor, or more likely jump up to the roof, and walk in through the large door he had installed to his room just for that. Here, though, there was barely enough space for him to fit outside of her room, and the stairs — which were barely wide enough for a Viking, never mind a dragon - turned just before the bottom.

"Uh, bud?" He swallowed hard. "I'm not sure that's such a good-"

But the dragon had already put a foot down on the step, and another. Then all of a sudden, he was flying down the steps, letting out a tiny shriek as he collided with the wall, leaving a Night Fury-shaped head mark on the wall.

He winced as the vibration reverberated across the house for a second, a trembling a bit beneath his feet. Then, shaking his head first a bit, Toothless slipped out the front door, the wind that followed in his wake slamming it shut.

"The Night Fury," he whispered to himself, leaning back against a wall. "The stealthiest, most elusive dragon known to mankind..."

And then, of course, it got worse.

There came the sound of shifting from somewhere below him, followed by a series of mumbles and grunts. He froze.

Somebody had just woken up. His mind kicked into action, assessing the situation. Whoever it was, they were parents, and so their immediate reaction would ultimately be to ask Astrid what had happened if anything was wrong. It was inevitable. Syl was changing, and didn't have her voice — Astrid's voice — meaning that she couldn't call down to reassure them when the question came. And if they couldn't hear her, they would go up to her room. He was there, and then, of course, her hair was dark, and she wasn't wearing her clothes…

Oh, gods. Oh, gods. From their eyes, Hiccup had snuck into their house at dawn, standing outside Astrid's door, while she was supposedly still getting dressed…

Things were not looking up.

As he heard the floorboards creaking somewhere below him, he wished the real Astrid was there to explain everything. If anyone could convince their own parents that an earth-shaking tremor was nothing at all, it would be her…

His eyes searched the room desperately, looking for something to help him — there was always something—

… And came to rest on the potion in his hand.

---

Hiccup's poem was already beginning to worry Astrid almost as much as it did him. Granted, her schedule wasn't quite as hectic as she guessed his must have been — not anymore, anyway — and she thus had more time to consider it, but it wasn't like her. Then again, there was a solid chance this was the thing that could solve all of their problems...

She could understand his worry over it. The lines, teasing upon his skin… it did sound suspiciously like what had happened to her. Still, it was only a few lines in the huge book — 10 pages later was probably the guide on "What to do if you find Yourself Accidentally Turned into a Night Fury," with their luck thus far.

She groaned as the thoughts buzzed around her head like flies, though she was getting more and more used to it. It had become a part of her daily routine - get up, drink, eat whatever was leftover from dinner the night before — if there even was anything left, in which case she closed her eyes and tried to pretend it was ham while swallowing — then think. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for hours. In many cases, the sun had crossed the sky before she knew it, and Hiccup and Toothless were flying over the crest of the hill, the passage of time almost unnoticeable. She often wondered if that was what Hiccup was like before he, well, had a life. Maybe this was what it was like to be peaceful.

Regardless, it seemed more likely to make her fat and lazy than anything, and so she avoided it whenever possible. She was already starting to tell herself her stomach was sagging a little, though with all her newfound weight it was impossible to tell.

There was one thing, however, that set this day apart from others; something she had done fairly regularly while human, but had since neglected following her transformation. In truth, she was unsure she knew whether or not dragons even did that sort of thing, though from the way Toothless made it sound, their process was… Slightly different.

Astrid was in desperate need of a bath.

It had taken her a few days to realize it - not only because it seemed like such a strange thing to do, but because she had begun to believe that her nose was playing tricks on her. Sure, she had noticed that there was a distinct… odor, that seemed to be present no matter where she went, but a part of it was fish, and so she didn't really mind, and as she had picked up on so many strange scents in the days following her transformation, she had just dismissed it.

When it finally occurred to her that the smell just might, might be coming from her, she had dismissed it again — after all, Hiccup would have told her, wouldn't he? Then, she had thought back to all the times he had walked home with her after full-day training sessions, her blue tunic absolutely drenched, hair matted against her forehead, reeking, but proud of it… His face had wrinkled up more than a little, but he never said a word about it, and stayed as close to her side as he always had.

So eventually, she admitted to herself that a nice swim in the lake would be good for her. Not only would it hopefully rid herself of some of the stenches, but she found it… Refreshing. Relaxing wasn't a word she liked to use — relaxation meant vulnerability, after all — but at the very least, a nice dip in the hot springs always took the ache and tension out of her muscles, and she felt revitalized and ready to punch someone as soon as she stepped out.

But as she sat there, dipping her foot into the water, she hesitated before jumping in. Because in reality… She wasn't entirely sure how to swim.

As a Viking, of course she could — it was one of the first things she was taught to do, before she even began her combat training, which said a lot. She had participated in several competitions, in fact - and won them. In fact, one year, at Thawfest, some Vikings on the council suggested that they all try something different, and so they arranged a swimming competition between the island and statues built out in the ocean. Though the idea was met with mostly positive feedback, it was called Thawfest for a reason… Needless to say, it wasn't the most satisfying victory, but Astrid vowed to that day that it was all worth it to see Snotlout's confused, shivering face when they dragged themselves up on to the beach, trying to figure out how she had beaten him — even if it meant she was stuck in bed for two weeks with a cold afterward.

But here at the lake, as a dragon… She had no idea where to start. The basic movements were the same — she still had legs, of course - but when it came to her wings, or tail, or head? She knew they must have been important somehow, and she had seen Toothless use them when he swam… But she had no clue how. She had barely learned to move them a few days before. They would need coordination, systematic movement... Perhaps this was out of her skill level…

No, no, she reminded herself. I'm Astrid Hofferson. Nothing is out of my skill level. When I started training, I knew nothing about combat, either. This is just the same.

And yet, she still found herself unwilling to step in. It was that nasty thing, she realized, that kept coming back like a bug in late spring; fear.

It's probably not that bad… She reasoned, It's not like it's very deep, anyway, and as long as I don't let them get in the way, or splash around too much, it should be fine. I'll just… Float. Dragons can float... Right?

She tried to think back to when she had asked Hiccup that question, only to realize she never had.

Great. I suppose I'll have to answer that myself, then.

She moved her feet down into the water. The waves rippled around her, cool, but she couldn't really feel it; she was never cold, not anymore.

Trying not to think about how sad it would be if she died from drowning in the four-foot deep shallow end of a pond, she took a deep breath, then pushed herself down into the water, feeling it spread across her scales as she did. She waded out into the water, until her paws could only just touch the bottom. The immersion was strange, but pleasant — the feeling of it running over her folded wings and tail drew out a happy little purr. And luckily, she found, if she stayed absolutely still, she didn't seem to sink at all.

Good, she thought. This… is nice.
It was really nice. So nice that the time began to escape her, as she found that by keeping her snout just resting on top of the surface, her nose was placed in such a way that she could breathe while keeping the lower half of her head submerged.

But more than that… Floating just felt so right. So natural. Letting her feet off the ground, becoming weightless, gave her a rush of excitement, and exhilaration, as she felt herself sway with the occasional breeze that pushed her around the pond. The movement was just as much fun… Almost like…

Flying.

Gods, Toothless was right. Her wings did ache. They ached for use. She unfurled them day after day, just to stretch them; she had long since found they were unbearable to deal with otherwise, and she of all people knew how bad it was to let muscles and limbs go unused and unexercised. It was one of the few arguments she made for herself to do it, if all "it" was, was stretching them out every now and then. She didn't really know any good exercises for wings, except for, of course…

Flying.

There it was again — that need for release, for a purpose. She almost wished they had a mind of their own, as it wasn't the wings that wanted for meaning, for purpose — it was her. She wanted the freedom, the escape. No, she needed it. Her mind told her there was nothing better in the world, and her heart screamed to be up there, flying with Stormfly again. Only, with her own wings, she could do so much more...

But… it wasn't enough to make her try. Her body, her tail — everything else had been necessary to move around, and although she had learned to move the two giant extensions, that was it. She didn't need to fly — though the feeling of elation she got from not feeling her feet even brush the ground seemed to contest that.

The time really did slip away as she sat there, floating around the shallow end of the pool. Anytime she began to float too far from the shore she simply kicked her legs a bit until her toes skimmed the muddy sand on the bottom.

Then, at one point or another, she heard it — the sound of a gentle swish somewhere in front of her in the water. Her eyes snapped open, and she turned her head up to search the water's surface, but there was nothing. Experimentally, she ducked her head underwater and opened her eyes. It was much more comfortable than she had expected — dragons must have had some sort of film over there eyes, she realized, as they felt almost dry, and the water was crystal clear. Alas, it was only a fish — a pike at that.

A fish…

Of course, Astrid couldn't fly. She wouldn't. But… This was just too tempting. Sure, she could wait for food to come, and she wasn't about to starve, either… But she didn't want to grow lazy, now, did she? Real Vikings hunted, and fished, lived for their own lives, and got their own food. Surely the same applied to dragons...? If she could just prove to herself that she was capable of catching one… It was all she would need.

Besides, she was feeling a bit hungry, anyway.

Her eyes locked onto the fish as she ducked her head back down under. She had been stagnant, she realized — so still that the fish must have mistaken her for a floating log or a rock. Gods in Asgard, was it in for a surprise. But she would have to be quick. The fish was close for the moment, and fat, but it could still swim much faster than her, if she could even swim at all — she still hadn't really tried.

As she resurfaced, she tried to look where she remembered the fish was. But the water distorted it, and the occasional wind blowing ripples and waves across the water didn't exactly help, either. Luckily, she was far enough away from the waterfall that the churning didn't bother her, and the faint rushing in her ears was all she heard.

Her eyes trained on the surface, she was only half-aware of something circling up above her — a bird, probably, trying to steal her catch — and so she moved it to the back of her mind. She dipped her head back under a few more times, watching her prey, then… Dove.

On instinct, her legs stretched out to trap it, and her mouth opened to fill with water, sucking the fish towards it. Still, it nearly escaped, and she thrashed around in an attempt to keep it in. Eventually, though, the fish submitted, and she watched it travel out of the sight of her eyes as it was guided into her gaping maw—

And then she went airborne. Literally.

Without any warning, her body was dragged up out of the lake, the immense pressure of the water pushing down on her wings and back. Caught by surprise, she lost her breath, and water flooded into her nostrils, down her throat. Quickly, though, her head was brought out of the water by the unseen force, and she felt herself being dragged… backwards?

Whatever it was, it was obviously struggling with her weight, and couldn't lift her completely out — especially not with the water creating even more drag. It was a miracle that whatever it was hadn't been pulled down into the water with her. But it gave her time to react.

So she kicked and screeched. She flailed all of her limbs in every direction she could and bit the air, teeth extended but clamping down on nothing. Whatever it was had her by the scruff of her neck, making it almost impossible to reach them, never mind actually see what it was. She felt her wings hit something hard a few times, but it didn't seem to have much effect.

It's a dragon, she realized. It could only be a dragon — nothing else she knew of could lift a thousand-pound reptile straight up out of a lake, and it seemed to be flying, as well. The question only remained, what kind?

By the time it dropped her on the sand, her vision had gone red. She whipped around, ready to fight, claws out and low to the ground…

… Only to see Stormfly standing there, looking both concerned and a little hurt.

Her vision was blood-red as she stopped herself from pouncing at the last moment. Every muscle in her body was telling her to attack, to rip apart whatever lowly being dared challenge her, humiliate her. It took every screaming bit of her mind to tell her form not to, and by the time she had calmed herself down she felt about ready to collapse.

Instead, she settled for lying down with a weary grumble, Stormfly still chortling worriedly in front of her. She used that time to try to figure out what had happened. A basket had been tossed against a rock a few feet away from her, torn open, fish spilling out of a large hole, and onto the ground. That, paired with Stormfly's sudden worry...

Gods, girl, she realized, I'm so sorry.

The Nadder, Odin forgive, had thought she was drowning. It must've looked that way from above — thrashing around wildly in the water after floating on the top, dead-still for so long. No wonder she had pulled her out… She would've done the same for her in a heartbeat, or at least tried.

The dragon cooed again, head down, crawling toward her submissively. Calming herself, Astrid did the same, lowering her head as close as she could to the ground, as her own form of apology. If only the two could talk — she wanted more than anything to tell Stormfly that she was fine, that she had been swimming, but even more so how sorry she was for biting and screeching at her like that. Of course, there was a way… but she wasn't about to resort to that. Not with the way Toothless frowned or changed the topic whenever she asked him about it.

After a moment had passed, each lifted their heads, and Stormfly backed away, aware that her anger had died off, but still cautious. Astrid winced, avoiding her gaze as she padded over to the basket. If there was one thing she never wanted to do, it was scare her dragon. Ironic, given how much she had tried to do just that in Berk's original version of "Dragon Training."

She had to make up for her actions, to thank her, somehow. She thought through ideas as she gulped down her meal. It was only when she saw Stormfly hungrily eye the last fish slide down her throat that she had the idea.

She thought back to one of the last times she had saved Hiccup. He had nearly fallen into a sinkhole twenty feet deep in the ground while they were eating lunch on one of their patrol missions, and she had just managed to catch his shirt before he'd tumbled in. Hiccup hadn't done much more than mumble a quick, "Thanks, Astrid," — he was beyond used to it, by then — but Toothless…

Oh, gods. Why did she have to go and swallow all of them?

Acting on impulse, she directed the fish still travelling down her throat into her second stomach, shivering as she felt it land behind her chest.

Ignoring that as best she could, she tried to remember their conversation from a few nights prior. "You just need to… Want it, to come back up," he had said, "and let your throat take over."

Of course, he had also mentioned that she wouldn't like it, and if it was Toothless saying that… Her first attempt had been less than successful, for sure. But that was really only because Syl had been there… Or so she told herself. And shooting a fireball at Stormfly wasn't exactly the 'thanks' she was aiming for, either.

Slowly, she repeated the method from that night, pulling, squeezing the fish back up her throat. It wasn't uncomfortable, not really… Just very, very weird. She wanted to swallow it, more than anything. She had thrown up before, but not on purpose, not an undigested fish, and never something quite so… slippery. But as much as her human memories and instincts told her that this was wrong, she had to do it — it was the only real way she could think of to thank the dragon. And it wasn't just for this, either — the girl had been there for her since this all started, helped them in any way she could. She had shown no appreciation for that. None at all. It was time she started — the dragon deserved it, and… and she missed her.

As she felt the fish launch up onto her tongue, she closed her mouth, feeling it vibrate as she gave a purr to get the Nadder's attention. Stormfly looked up and gave a curious chirp as she stood there, trying to look away. After a second, however, she met her eyes; this was her dragon, after all, and she had nothing to be ashamed of, even if the taste of the fish on her tongue made her want to swallow it all over again.

Slowly, awkwardly, she opened her maw, her teeth retracting — she wasn't entirely sure how — as the fish slipped down onto the ground. Covered in saliva and other sticky fluids as it was, she tried not to look at it, but couldn't help it. It made it a bit easier as Stormfly inched forward, glancing up at her, as if still nervous, and picked it up with her beak, chirping happily as she swallowed it herself, as Astrid tried not to really vomit. The dragon had tried to cough up food for her enough times… But this was taking it to another level.

All at once, the leftover tension disappeared, as Stormfly hopped back up, and began chirping again, jumping about on her feet. Astrid had to smile — she had forgotten how playful the dragon was. Of course, the Nadder used to tease her, and steal her things — but normally she would wrestle them back, not pursuing her invitation on the excuse that she didn't have enough time, or was busy, or whatever other reason always got in the way. In the few cases she did, it was rarely anything rough, or dangerous — normally just tossing a shield for her to catch would do for a few minutes, at least.

Now, however, she had all the time in the world — perhaps even genuinely, though she tried not to think about it. And as far as playing rough or competitive went… Well, she wasn't exactly the limited, skin-bound creature she'd been before.

Her smile turned into a grin as she spread her front legs and lowered her head down, feeling her wings flare out a bit in anticipation as the Nadder mirrored her. Who said she couldn't have a little fun, anyway?

---

Astrid's father stumbled out of bed, barely half-awake. Still, he was sure he had heard something — or more felt something, really. Though it wasn't all too uncommon an occurrence for things to rumble and shake the foundations of the house — Berk had more thunderstorms than all of the other islands combined, it seemed, not to mention the dragons that romped around outside all the time — one in the middle of the night was a bit strange, to say the least. It was probably nothing, he knew, but it never hurt to check.

And of course, the first thing he would do was check on Astrid.

He felt his way around the room until he reached the kitchen, at which point he lit the candle that he always kept there for just this reason. The light that followed showed nothing really out of place. The light reflected oddly off of the wall in front of the landing, but other than that, nothing seemed too out of place. He opened the door slightly, out of a mere curiosity, but everything seemed alright there, as well. Dawn was just setting in, and a few people were milling about, just starting their day. For a moment, he could've sworn he saw a large, dark mass disappearing around a corner a few houses down, but he ignored it — the light played strange tricks in the morning, anyway.

Closing the door, he moved over to the stairs, casting the light against the wall as he made his way up. Strange — it was as if some object had been thrown against the wall, splitting the boards. Almost in the shape of a—

"I'm here, Dad!"

The voice startled him, though he kept a firm grip on the candle. It was Astrid, for certain, though something about her voice seemed different — weaker, almost. Though she had been different ever since she and Hiccup had returned, this was even more so. Something about the way she spoke just seemed… Off.

"Astrid?" He asked, peering into the darkness. A figure stood near the top of the stairs — his daughter, he knew, her thin frame made that clear — though the light didn't quite reach her. He took a step up the stairs, and she shrunk back. "Are ye' alright? I heard something, it sounded like—"

"Oh, yeah," she responded. "It was just me. I… tripped."

"Sounded like a lot more than a trip to me…" He stopped. There was something else there, that came out of the silence in between their conversation. It sounded like… Laughter. A girl's laughter?

"Is someone else there?" he asked. "Don't take me for a fool, young lady! What's going on?"

There was a pause for a moment. The laughter stopped.

"Alright… You caught me, Dad," she admitted. "I've been trying to teach Stormfly how to speak all night. She's been, uh, looking through my window. She's got laughing down, but nothing else so far."

"Trying to…" He did a double take. Teaching the dragon to speak? Ha! He couldn't imagine... Then again, his daughter had done stranger things with her new 'friend,' and they certainly spent a lot of time together...

"But what about this mark on the wall, here?" He moved the candle back to the oddly-shaped dent and squinted.

"Oh, that? I, uh… Well, it's kind of embarrassing, really. I'd thought I'd heard something, too — before all of this. So I went downstairs to check… But I tripped on the bottom step, and my axe hit the wall. I, uh… I hope you aren't mad…"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He wasn't mad, really. Just… Confused. Something about her story didn't add up. In fact, nothing did...

"I can fix it for you," she continued.

… But he didn't really feel like figuring it out anyway. He still had an hour or so before he really needed to be up and about, and as much as he cherished the few talks his daughter was willing to have with him, reaching dead ends and searching for an explanation when she obviously wasn't willing to talk about it before he was even fully awake wasn't at the top of his list of priorities. Besides, everything seemed to be alright, and if she was willing to fix the wall...

"Well, then," he said, with a shrug. "G'night, Astrid. Ye' don't get enough rest as it is — make sure yer ready to tackle the day, eh?"

"Tell me about it," he heard her mumble.

He chuckled to himself as he walked back to bed, blowing out the candle. He didn't have much to worry about, really. How much trouble could a teenage girl possibly get herself into, anyway?

---

Upstairs, Hiccup was about two shaky breaths away from a full-on panic attack. Syl, meanwhile, could barely contain herself.

"You- you actually drank…" She snorted again, and brought a hand up to her face, trying to muffle the giggles that followed. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know!" He replied, Astrid's naturally harsh tone adding to the effect. "I didn't even know it would work… I kind of hoped it wouldn't, to be honest."

"Out of all the things you could've done," Syl shook her head, incredulous, then winced. "It almost makes me forget about this headache… Don't you have some trip to an island today, or something?"

"Oh, gods," his eyes widened. "Dad is going to kill me! Could you… Could you get me some mead from downstairs? I think her father keeps some in the kitchen, somewhere. Not like any Viking on Berk doesn't."
"I know. Where do you think I got mine from, last night?" she narrowed her eyes. "And why should I get it for you, anyway? You got yourself into this mess. You and your dragon, that is."

"Well, you look like her, at least! And after that, I don't want to take any more risks, here! That was already… Too weird."

It was true — as soon as Astrid's father had gone back to his room, Syl had pulled him back into hers, and shut the door behind her, if only so that she could properly laugh at and tease him without worrying about being heard. Still, the early-morning light coming in through the window revealed what he had hoped — in the time it had taken the two of them to have their "little chat," Syl had managed to finish putting on her clothes, for the most part, and had even dyed her hair, though it was still soaking wet.

"Fine, but at least give me this, first," she said, grabbing the now slightly-depleted vial out of his hands. Opening the cap, she let a drop fall onto her tongue, grimacing at the rotten aftertaste it left on her taste buds. Then she set the vial back down in her dresser, closed it, and moved to the door.

"Now there's two Astrids," she teased. "Three, if you count the one in the woods. Though in my opinion… Anyway, if her Dad hears us now, he'll just think she's talking to herself."

She disappeared down the stairs, and Hiccup sat back on her bed, putting his head in his hands. After a moment, however, he remembered whose bed it was that he was sitting on, and jumped up, cheeks reddening.

"Hiccup!"

He tried to pretend that he hadn't heard the curt-whisper that had come from below, though he knew he had — it didn't sound good.

He risked a step outside the door, just barely able to make out Syl's outline in the kitchen below.

"Bad news," she whispered again. "I, ah, seem to have drunk the last bottle last night…"

He fell back against the wall, a wave of dread sweeping over him. Oh, I'm just Loki's favorite spectacle, aren't I?

"You're sure? It's pretty dark down there..." He asked, finding it difficult to manage a quieter tone with Astrid's voice.

"I thrive in the dark," she replied, almost offended. "Believe me — there's nothing here."

He bit his lip, running through the options. Eventually, he settled on one — it would take more time than he would've liked, but if Syl was fast, and quiet…

"Alright, listen closely, please," he told her. "In my house — you know where it is, it's not far — there is a cabinet with a few casks of mead in it. It's toward the rear of the house, near the backdoor. If you take Toothless—"

"No! No," she said, cutting him off. "I'll go. By myself. I don't need a dragon to protect me, Hiccup. I can handle myself."

"Alright," he replied, nervously. "But please, at least let him go with you. If nothing else, it'll make you just walking into our house look a little less… Weird."

"Because coming in here with him wasn't? Coming into my room?" She shook her head. "It's a blade with two edges, Hiccup — one way or another."

"Well, ok. Maybe that was wrong, but— wait, Syl? Where are you going? I didn't tell you how to get in!"

A crack of light slipped in as she squeezed herself through the door. "Don't worry about it, Hiccup," she whispered, closing the door behind her. "In the meantime… It's bad enough that I have to fill in for one of you… You owe me one. Several, now. So try not to get yourself into any more trouble than you already have, 'k? Cya,"

By the time his head was in his hands yet again, the door was already closed.

---

"T-Thinks I'm some k-kind of..." Syl shivered, searching for the word. The early morning was cold, even with the rising sun, and the freezing, ghost-blonde hair plastered against her head certainly didn't help, either. Still, she tried to look tough — she had been attempting to master Astrid's stone-cold glare, judging only by what she managed as a dragon — and sneered whenever her teeth chattered, as if challenging the cold to hit harder. On the inside, however, she only wanted to run back to the house, dive under the covers of her bed or stock the firepit up to her height with kindling and risk burning the whole village down. She would be warm then, at least.

Walking up the sloped path eventually leading toward the Great Hall, and Hiccup's more modest abode below, the term finally came to her. "Errand runner! A messenger, or a servant..."

She continued her mutterings up the slope, and was almost caught unawares when a dark shape materialized a few feet away from her. She whipped her head around, groaning as a strand of damp hair slapped down over her eye.

It was the damned Night Fury again.

He was padding along within about ten feet of her, the maximum distance she allowed him to stay within when they had to be near each other, for one reason or another. She was a bit surprised he had remembered her rule, at all — it usually took some not-so-subtle shuffling away and shoo-ing before he would keep his distance — but she figured it was probably just to mock her, anyway.

Immediately, the incident of the dream and her fear of drowning via dragon-saliva returned to her. She clenched a fist, and pointed back down the path with the other.

"No. No," she began. "I am not in the mood. So go—"

But then, so too did the nightmare that came before it. Her brother, the bread… It would've ended badly, she knew. They always did, the dreams. And despite her own personal reservations about water… As she'd admitted earlier, it hadn't been the worst way to wake up. Not lately, anyway.

Gods, am I seriously considering being woken up by a Night Fury licking my toes… okay? She almost felt like getting angry again for a moment, until she sighed, the headache from the mead draining her energy — not to mention how horrible the rest of her felt. I really have hit rock bottom.

Then, of course, there was Hiccup's advice. Her costume had been rather rushed, meaning that Toothless walking alongside her — or at least near her — would make it less likely for anyone to second-guess…

The dragon seemed to be raising an eyebrow at her as she made a decision.

"Fine," she stomped her foot. "You can come along… I guess it is your house, anyway…"

The dragon's eyes lit up a bit as she finished, though he made no reaction otherwise, continuing to follow along behind her quietly up the hill. She sniffed, but kept quiet, as well.

A Night Fury, she thought. The Night Fury, if Hiccup's claims and the stories are true. Though at the moment, I suppose there are two...

Still, if Toothless was the only real one, the one who had been the source of nightmares for years, who had destroyed towers and buildings in every Village for hundreds of miles around…

This should have brought another wave of anger and hatred for the creature, she knew… But instead, there was only curiosity. Few people outside of Berk had ever seen him, she knew. Some even thought he was just a myth or legend, he attacked villages so rarely, and was impossible to spot at night. But here he was, trotting along next to her without a care in the world. And he seemed to understand human speech well enough…

"You're a lot smaller than I thought you'd be," she blurted out, deciding not to think about it too much.

The dragon stopped and gave an annoyed warble, and she turned to face it.

"I mean, I'm not saying that's a bad thing… Or a good thing, for that matter," she added. "It's just a fact. The books make you out to be the stuff of nightmares, y'know."

The dragon rolled his eyes, and Syl couldn't help but snort. "What? It's true. We were told to 'Hide, and pray you don't find us,' if we ever heard you. Or saw you, I guess, but up until a little while ago, that had never happened."

The dragon seemed to frown at this, and slowed down a bit, as if it was actually considering what she had to say. It was probably just playing with her, she knew, teasing her feelings and emotions just as a child teases an ant with the sun and a broken glass bottle. But...

"Well," she started, recapturing the Night Fury's attention. "I suppose I'm just trying to say that, you, uh… Well, the other islands got some things wrong about you. They need to update their books, anyway. Dusty old things aren't good for much anymore…"

It wasn't exactly a compliment, but it was the closest thing she was willing to let herself give. Even then she had to remind herself that it was wrong. She would never admire or, gods forbid, respect a dragon. Certainly not to its face, anyway.

She stopped as they reached the house, evaluating its openings for the best way in. Hiccup seemed to be about to tell her something about how to get inside; perhaps there was a key of some sort, or an unlocked window. She wasn't sure, but it didn't matter.

She could always pick the door, of course. It was the Chief's house, so it probably had a better lock than most — and given Hiccup's tendency to tinker, there was the possibility that he had added his own modifications, as well. That and, of course, if people were to see Astrid trying to break into Hiccup's house, it might raise some eyebrows. Then again, it was still early, and not many people were out yet. In a few moments, too, the rising light would be in just the position for her to be able to see the door clearly—

Her thoughts were interrupted as a confused, but angry growl came from behind her.

What she saw as she turned around might almost have made her laugh any other day. In fact, it almost did just then.

The Night Fury, the terrifying beast of darkness and offspring of lightning and death… Had gotten a loose nail from the house behind them stuck through his tailfin.

For a moment, she only stood there and watched. He wasn't really doing much, only wiggling it ever so slightly. She decided this was rather stupid of him, until she realized it was the exact opposite; not only was the nail caught through the delicate cloth of the fin, but, from what she could tell from where she was standing, it was bent in such a way that made it nearly impossible for him to slide off. At least, not without contorting his tail in a way she knew was beyond unnatural. If he moved back or forth only a little, the fabric would tear, leaving a gash and probably not fixing the problem, anyway. He was getting anxious, though — his confused purrs were turning into soft growls, which would soon draw attention from the few people milling about in the Village.

Syl rubbed her temples in utter disbelief of what she was about to do. If her headache was fleeting before, it had come back then in full force, thanks in part to the dragon's own error. But if she let him keep going like this…

"Here, uh," she inched toward him, aiming for his tailfin. Toothless stopped in his attempts at escape to stare at her, equally wary. "I'm just… Let me, ah,"

Still inching forward, she swallowed and tried not to look at the dragon's face, knowing quite well that its eyes were boring straight into her back. Neither of them trusted the other, not really — but this had to be done, it seemed.

Eventually, Syl somehow reached his tailfin, sweat beaded against her forehead as she lowered a hand down to the tailfin. The darkness of the small corridor between the two houses made it difficult to see, but she was used to working in shadows. "Ok…" She finished, more for herself than the dragon.

She was as delicate as possible. Hiccup had made the cloth rugged enough, she could tell — it was surprising the nail had even punctured it — but with the amount of power she knew that tail had, she moved the fin up and away from it with the pace of a snail, hands trembling throughout. To keep her mind off of it, she focused on the creature's hide, only to become genuinely intrigued. Each scale was almost exactly the same size and shape as those surround them, except in the places where they were forced to curve to fit the contour of the dragon's body. Viewed as close as she was, they were somehow both mirrored and matte, shiny but not quite reflective, either. Even with the wear Syl knew they had gone through in the past few days alone, they were clearer than the most polished blades she had ever seen. It was only after she released it that she realized she'd been holding her breath.

The dragon, fortunately, made no sudden movements. It seemed to understand, at least, her nervousness in the situation, especially given the distance she usually kept between them. Still... it was a rare opportunity, for her. She blinked.

Suddenly, curiosity overtook her, and she found her hands moving down to feel the scales on his tail. The initial heat of them shocked her, and she might've pulled back, if she hadn't been even more intrigued. They were hard and smooth, and every law of nature should have dictated they be cold. But instead, a warmth radiated off of the creature, spilling out of his scales and making her palms tingle.

He bristled slightly under her touch, giving a short little purr, and she realized her hands must've felt cold to him. It was then that she chose to pull away, but not quickly, no: slowly, finding herself staring at her open hands again in awe. I just touched a Night Fury.

After another moment had passed, she looked up again, to see that the dragon had turned around. He was staring at her. Though she couldn't recall when, they had stepped out of the shadows, into the light of the early-morning sun.

What happened next, she swore for every second of every hour of every day that followed, was not her. It was something else, someone else, deep inside of her that came out then, the compelled her to step back, and raise up a palm to the dragon as she stared at him. In response, he closed his eyes, slowly bending his head down into it until he was close, so close. Close enough that she could feel the heat could feel the heat coming off of his scales, knew the touch of them that would soon follow. Closer and closer he came, until he was-

"Astrid!"

Moments before contact, the illusion snapped, and she pulled her hand away, brutally aware of what had nearly happened. Equally, the dragon blinked, confused. Her breathing became heavy, labored, as she attempted to understand what had just almost taken place. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

She ground her teeth and curled her palm into a fist as the dragon pulled away, about ready to punch someone — preferably whoever had interrupted her. Not that she had wanted that whole experience to happen, but...

She snapped around, ready for a fight, until she realized who it was.

"Uh… Hi, Chief," she stuttered, her breathing shaky for an entirely different reason, now.

"Thought Hiccup went off to find ye'! Say, ye' haven't seen him, 'ave you? S'pposed to be sending off on his first trip today, though I'm sure ye' already knew that. Gobber's got the papers and everythin'!"

She fought to maintain her composure. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Toothless slink back a bit. "You know… I can't say that I have, sir. I'm sure he'll turn up, though. As long as his dr— ah, Toothless is around here, he can't be far..."

"Indeed," he said, his tone losing a bit of the cheeriness of a moment before. "In fact… I've been meaning to talk to you about him. About, well, about you and him, actually."

Syl fought to find words, but couldn't manage more than a nod. For once, she couldn't think of a way out of a situation — not a good one, anyway. Stoick took a key out of his back pocket, and opened the door to the house, beckoning them both in.

"Mind joinin' me for a pint? Ye' may not be quite old enough yet, but, well, a little bit o' mead's never hurt a Viking now, has it?" He chuckled a bit, still holding the door.

Syl forced a smile as she walked in, taut as a bowstring. "No sir, it certainly hasn't."

---

If there was ever anything Astrid hadn't been good at, it was knowing how and when to stop.

Plenty of people had told her to throughout her life; her parents, telling her to stop staying out so late training. Hiccup, telling her to stop worrying so much about everything. Snotlout, whining at her to stop punching him in the face after he had tried to kiss her again. She took their gestures as challenges, though, and kept going until she was too tired to do anymore.

Rarely, though, did she get to have fun. Having built her life on a daily cycle of exercising, eating and sleeping, the newfound lifestyle that came from peace with the dragons simply cleared up a lot of time she hadn't had before. Still, she filled that time in the same way she had the rest, but also learned to glean fun from riding Stormfly in the mornings and afternoons, as well as daily opportunities to mess with Snotlout and the twins. And even then, the typical 'fun' for other kids — the playing, and laughing, and running through the Village — had never been enough for her. She needed a challenge — a competition.

Luckily, Stormfly understood that better than anyone else. Hiccup was fine, sure, and she could convince the occasional Viking or twin to a brawl if they were feeling particularly cocky at the right time. Still, it was always too easy, too simple to win those, the threat of defeat never quite there, unless she wanted it to be. But Stormfly was a proud dragon, through and through. She cared about Astrid, she knew, and protected her. But when it came to their equally strong competitive spirits? Well, in the few times where they didn't have to work together, the true nature of the two of them would spark up once again.

So they danced around the beach, making mock-snaps at each other, flaring their wings out as though about to attack, before falling over laughing, each in their strange, draconic ways. They ran and they raced through the woods, they jumped up onto trees and leaned against them, each trying to uproot them onto the other by strength alone, and invented dozens of other sports, oftentimes on a whim. Time flew by, minutes, maybe hours, it was impossible to tell. Words weren't spoken, but weren't needed, anyway. The rules were always simple, and even Stormfly showed her some things that she knew must have been customary to dragon 'hatchlings,' as Toothless called them. As the sun passed over the time, Astrid felt truly happy for the first time in a while.

Eventually, though, she knew it was time to stop.

Panting and shaking with adrenaline and excitement, she collapsed onto the beach next to the Nadder, who seemed to have just enough energy to remain standing, but looked ready to collapse at any moment, as well. It was the best kind of fun — the Viking kind. It was never any fun at all if you weren't dizzy and light-headed by the end of it.

It was then that Astrid came to yet another realization. She still needed her bath, even more so than she had before.

She had never really finished it, to be fair, and now she was sure she must've stunk more than ever. Sure, she didn't seem to sweat anymore, but with the amount of rolling around in the mud she had been doing during that wrestling match they'd just finished up with, she was sure the need was just as bad, if not worse than it was before. A bath in the nice, cold water also sounded great just then, especially for her already-sore muscles, and if that fish was still there…

Slowly, she got back up to her feet, and began her crawl across the beach. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stormfly watching her, almost lazily… until she realized where she was going.

Just as she went to set her foot down in the water, something tugged on her tail, pulling her just away.

She smiled and thought to herself, That was nice, girl. Lots of fun. But I'm done, now.

She turned back to face the dragon, who had a claw wrapped around her tail, clamping it down, and tried to give a low coo that she hoped conveyed the message. Stormfly cocked her head slightly, and released it. As soon as she took another step, however, there came yet another tug, stronger this time, followed by a chirp.

She looked back, starting to get slightly annoyed. I'm done, girl, she thought, giving another coo. Stormfly didn't release her talons.

Astrid narrowed her eyes, thinking she was still playing games until she saw the look in the Nadder's eyes. She was just as serious as Astrid was — she still thought she was going to drown.

No girl, look, —she batted the water with a paw— it's okay. I just want a bath.

Stormfly's grip only tightened. Astrid growled slightly and tugged again. She tightened her grip. It was starting to hurt.

It went on for a moment, Astrid tugging, getting less annoyed and more angered, Stormfly acting in kind. This dragon was determined.

Something, deep inside, was telling her this was wrong. Not just annoying, or stupid, but wrong. A Nadder shouldn't have challenged her, shouldn't have held her back when she had already made her choice, nor challenged her strength by holding her in such a vulnerable position…

Alright. That's enough. She closed her eyes, then, giving one last effort, she tugged, nearly ripping herself free of the dragon's clutches… Until she brought down her second claw, further up her tail. Astrid was holding back every ounce of her will to turn around and… And what? This was her best friend, she would never—

Stormfly flung out her wings, and hissed at her. On the inside, she knew it was kind, she was just trying to help, even if she didn't know. But from somewhere else, came another message. The look in her eyes, the way she fanned her wings, it was triumphant. Defiant. That was all it took.

"Stop it!" she roared. "Let go of me! Get away!"

The thought was out before she could take it back. In the heat of the moment, though, she thought little of it.

The Nadder froze as if spooked. Then, slowly, she released her talons, stepping off of her. A wave of dread swept over Astrid as she realized what she had done, remembered what Toothless had once said to her about their voice… The Tala, he had called it.

I had gotten in an argument with a gronckle who hadn't brought back enough food one day, and it got so heated that I eventually… Forced, a thought into his mind.

"No… No, wait!" But Stormfly was already readying her wings, as if in a trance, and Astrid slapped herself internally — forcing more thoughts in her mind would only make it worse.

She cried out, instead, but that had no effect, either. She ran across the beach, the joy of only a few minutes before already fleeting.

She watched the dragon fly away as she struggled to think of something, anything she could do.

As she disappeared from her view, soaring over the trees, Astrid buried her head under her claws, wanting to disappear from the rest of the world, to simply cease to exist.

What did I just do?

---

"I've wanted to talk with you for a while, Astrid," Stoick said, handing her a mug of mead. "About… Well, about Hiccup."

Syl nodded absently, eyes searching the room, already looking for a way out. The door had been closed behind her, and though it wasn't locked, an escape that way was impossible, anyway. She knew she couldn't just walk out moments after Stoick had invited her into his own home, as much as she really, really wanted to. She couldn't say she had places to be, either — after all, she had told him she had no idea where Hiccup went, and had taken up his offer to share a drink willingly. And if she said she was going to look for him, she would only be wasting time pretending, and if the Chief went with her there was no way she could just go straight back to her house and—

"And, of course… You," Syl's momentary trance ended in a heartbeat, as she did a double take. He wanted to talk about… Her? Well, not her, of course, but what did he want with Astrid?

"It's just that, ah," he continued, obviously unsure of how to communicate with someone so much younger than him — it explained a lot about Hiccup's relationship with him.

"Ye'… Spend a lot of time with Hiccup. Or, around him, I should say. Ye' see him a lot more than I do, in fact…"

Her eyes widened, and she stared down into her drink as she realized what he was attempting to tell her — or must have been.

"I suppose, what I'm trying to say is—"

"No, no, Chief," she cut him short, making a decision. This was way too awkward for the both of them, much more than he understood, and besides, if Astrid ever realized that this conversation had happened without her…

"I just need to tell you… Hiccup and I aren't ready to pursue that kind of, uh, relationship. Not yet. We're just friends, and ah, marriage isn't really on the horizon for either of us right now, either."

There was a pause. The fire crackled and jumped in the pit.

"Marriage?" He asked, raising his voice. "Marriage?"

Syl winced — even she knew the consequences of talking back to a Chief that way — until he started laughing.

"Oh, you thought that… Ah, kids… Marriage…" He went on chuckling for a moment, before clearing his throat.

"I'm not talking about marriage," he said.

"Wait… What?" She asked, confused. "What did you mean, then?"

"Well, your guidance, of course!" He told her. "Like I was saying, ye' spend so much time around him, it's nice to see that you're starting to rub off on him a little. He might've stood up to me a few years ago — in fact he did, a lot — but would he have been able to change my mind about the book? About sending him off on a war mission?"

He chuckled again, and she exhaled. The relief washing over her body almost distracted her from the fact that Stoick was still talking.

"I really just wanted to thank you, Astrid. Hiccup is, well, Hiccup. You know what I mean. It's nice to see you bring out a wee bit of Viking in him every now and then," He shook his head, "But just to know that Astrid Hofferson's even considered becoming my son's Wife, my future Daughter-in-Law…"

He smiled, then pushed the mug she was holding meekly in one hand towards her. It nearly spilled. "Come on, Astrid! Drink a little. It's practically a cause to celebrate! And like I said, it won't hurt ye' to take a few risks!"

She tried to fake a smile. "You know, Chief… I haven't been feeling great since this morning."

"Oh, come now, Astrid! Where's that ol' Viking spirit gone off to?" He asked. She managed another smile, but held her ground.

"No, really… I'm not sure this would be the best idea. Ever since I, uh, learned that Hiccup was leaving…"

The romance may have been fake, but the sickness was real — just a whiff of the liquid in her mug nearly made her want to puke. She already had a distaste for alcohol before that day. She doubted she would be doing any more drinking for quite a while, unless, of course, she had to…

"Oh, I see," Stoick said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, if you're really not doing that well, ye' know where the privy is."

She nodded and, completely guessing, began walking toward the back of the house. Surely enough, a small room was sectioned off near the back entrance, and she slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind her.

Unintentionally, she had taken the mug of mead with her. She was more focused on her current situation than the fact, though. She had gotten away from the conversation, sure, but if she just disappeared out the back…

Slowly, she re-opened the door, peeking down into the main hall. Stoick sat in front of the fire pit, probably still chuckling at the thought of 'Astrid's' concern for her relationship with Hiccup. More importantly, he was facing away from her.

That was when she spotted the cupboard next to the door, and realized she vaguely remembered Hiccup saying something about mead stored inside. It only served to remind her of her purpose there, however — when she opened it, her hopes were dashed, as she was met with nothing but an empty box inside. Stoick must have used the last of his supply to pour their drinks.

As quietly as she had stepped out of the washroom, she was even quieter in opening the back door, and more cautious — open only enough for her to squeeze through the crack, silent and without letting any light in — and she was outside.

The fresh air felt amazing, renewing. The freedom that came from sneaking out of any building was always the best kind, but then again, she had never been in a case quite like this. The need to get away, to escape from the personal tension and awkwardness that she knew awaited her with the Chief inside, to run back to Hiccup with the mead, or even better, into the woods where nobody would find her, to be alone… It was almost overwhelming. It was what she would do, as well. But as far as what Astrid would do...

Of course, she didn't intend to just walk back in there. She needed to get the mead to Hiccup, somehow. After that, she could talk her way out of the situation, perhaps, and slip away. But how…?

Just then, Syl realized she was being watched.

A pair of yellow-green eyes with black, oval pupils peered at her from the shadow of the house, and she almost jumped. Once again, she tried to conjure up the resentment, the suspicion of the Night Fury she had once been able to so easily. He hadn't gone in the house, even when Stoick had invited him in several times. It was as if he had known she would be out there, had known she would escape that way…

Had known that I would need his help. She frowned. The dragon purred, sending shivers down her spine.

"I'm still mad at you for… Earlier," she said, with a sneer. The dragon tilted his head, but stayed.

"But… I guess I could use your help…"

Taking the cue, Toothless stepped into the light, just enough for the details of the rest of his face to become visible. Syl started to backstep, but then stopped herself. I need to do this, she sighed. Not that she needed to do anything for Hiccup, of course. This was just for… for…

"Listen," she whispered, softening her tone a little. "You need to get this," —she held up the mug of mead still in her hand— "To Hiccup. Got that?"

He nodded, and she swallowed hard, incredulous. She was actually asking a favor from a dragon. A favor she didn't even need to make, really. She owed nothing to Hiccup, at all, and damn well wanted to make sure it stayed that was — she was unaccustomed to people being in her debt, after all, and she was starting to enjoy it, using that as her reasoning. That, and the fact that at least it would get the dragon out of her sight for a while. His presence wasn't quite as threatening as usual, but she wasn't about to invite him inside with her, either. What had happened earlier, in front of the house, in front of the whole village...

She shuffled around the dragon, making her way to the small pouches and hooks attached to his saddle. Selecting one, she slid the bottom of the mug down in, as snugly as she could make it.

"There," she whispered, backing away as quickly as she could. "Now go! And try not to spill any. Though who knows how much he even needs, or can take? Hiccup thinks I can't hold my liquor... I'm surprised he can even hold up his clothes with that frame..."

She almost thought she saw the dragon roll his eyes, but figured it was just her imagination. But then, he glanced back at the door she had come through, and gave a low, cool purr, which even she knew had to mean something.

"What?" She asked him, then mentally slapped herself for actually expecting an answer. The dragon, on the other hand, nodded at the door again, then looked back at her, and down into the Village, to freedom…

"Oh… You want me to come with you. To go back to Hiccup?" She asked. He nodded again. Where had he gotten so smart, anyway? Or more importantly… How could she even understand what he was trying to tell her?

"I, uh, can't," she tried to explain, gesturing back at the door. "I've got… Talking, to do. Human talking. With the Chief. Y'know, the big guy with the red hair? That's slaughtered hundreds of your kind?"

Toothless grumbled, and even narrowed his eyes a bit, her words seeming to have some kind of effect on him, and she had to hold back a smirk.

Managing to piss off a Night Fury. A real Night Fury, that is, she told herself. Not bad, Syl.

Still, the dragon gestured down the hill. What was this game he was playing, anyway? Whatever it was, Syl decided, two could play at it.

"No, I'm fine," Syl said with a gentle smile, feigning warmth. "I'll stay here, okay? I can get through this on my own. Go back to Hiccup, I can distract him here until he's ready. I know how to handle myself. I… I can do this."

By the time she had finished, however, the words were more for herself than the dragon, and she caught herself. This stirred up another wave of resentment towards the beast, and yet again she began to question what his intentions were.

The game ended there, however, as Toothless gave what she assumed was the dragon equivalent of the shrug, and began trotting down the hill. Yet again, she was amazed — without even glancing back at it, he had kept the mug from bouncing and spilling all the way down the hill, moving his legs to adjust to the contours of the slope, using his tail from time to time for balance.

Snapping herself out of it, she turned away. He was a Night Fury — of course he would know what he was doing. Just as she knew what she was doing. At least, that was her last thought as she slipped back into the house, pulling the door back shut behind her, feeling the imprisonment of the walls around her once again. Luckily, the Chief hadn't seemed to have noticed her short disappearance from the house, and was still facing the fire pit. Still, she could feel something in the room that wasn't there before, could tell something had changed in her absence. It took her a moment to realize what it was.

Stoick was polishing his hammer. The gesture wasn't meant to be threatening — she knew what that looked like all too well — but she slowed down as she reached the fire pit nonetheless.

"Astrid! You surprised me..." He said, as she walked in a wide circle around him to sit down. Something was off in his tone — the rowdy happiness of his voice was no longer truly there; what small joy still remained was fabricated, fake. He seemed to age a year with every word that left his mouth, as he continued,

"You must've spent more time huntin' lately than I thought. Ye've changed. Not many people can sneak up on me… Or dragons, for that matter," he finished with a slow nod, as if considering his words.

"Uh… Thanks," she said, curtly. She was already regretting her decision against leaving.

He looked her up and down, scrutinizingly. It took every fiber of her being not to jump up and run out the front door as fast as she could, never mind resist shifting or fidgeting on the hard, cold wooden stump she was sitting on. She could think of an excuse later on, she reasoned. The 'privy' card had already been taken, of course. Perhaps if she told him—

"I'm going to be honest with you, Astrid," he announced, as though having made a decision of his own. "It's been brought to my attention that, well, you and Hiccup aren't the kids ye' used to be. You're near adults, now. Hiccup's going on these trips and, well, it's time I be honest with the tribe, and you… and myself,"

He took a deep breath, and stared at his hammer for a moment, still contemplating.

"We're at war," he started, rushing the sentence out on an exhale, as though anxious to spit it out. "Or will be, soon enough. If they're smart, they'll hold out attacking until after the winter. Berk is near impossible to reach once the ice sets in, not to mention the storms and snow. It would be a death trap for them to even try to sail…" He trailed off as his tone grew deeper, likely doing his own estimates of blizzards and frosts and food supplies and the like. She frowned, as well — it was common knowledge that so much as going outside in the winter could be deadly, in the right conditions. But then again, the stupidity of Vikings was something that never failed to surprise her, and if this was her tribe they were talking about…

"Nonetheless," he said, retaining his grave complexion. "It will just give us more time to prepare. It doesn't change the truth, either — you're getting older, both of you. And with age comes responsibility.

"You're strong, Astrid. One of the strongest Vikings on Berk, the top of your peers, as you seem to enjoy reminding them," he continued, though there was no humor in his tone. "But more so, you're my son's closest… Friend. And one way or another, you two will one day rule this island, together,"

Syl swallowed. "Uh, gee, Chief… I think it's a little early to be making assumptions—"

"No, no," he said. "Now that you've brought it up, I can see it; there will be no other path or way. And as Chief of Berk, it's my responsibility to ensure that you are prepared, as well. You're a warrior, Astrid. But to lead is much more than to fight in the ranks. Perhaps this is the war to determine the fate of the dragons on Berk, and the rest of the world, as well… But it's a war all the same. Vikings fighting Vikings — the way it's been since long before we sailed here. This is not a bandit raid, not Daggur's twenty or so ships. We will need all the help we can get for this. Every man and woman willing to stand behind us for a thousand miles in every direction.

"With that said," he set down his hammer, and Syl found herself tugging at her shirt. Needless to say, she didn't like where this was going. "The dragons here may still be helpful. It's leverage we have against them that I'm not about to give up — when the day comes, they may not have dragons, but they will have the tools and weapons to fight them. In all my years, I'd never thought I'd say this, but…" He sighed again.

"We need to teach the dragons how to fight. How to do battle alongside humans, to coordinate and destroy the enemies without destroying our own. As much as I'd like to believe they know how already, the truth is, I don't know. You and your friends have trained them well, but when it comes to the rest of 'em, they're still wild. So… while Hiccup's gaining allies, I need someone to work closer to home, to ensure that this island's ready and willing to fight when the time comes. I can take care of the Vikings, with armor, weapons, supplies… But as to the dragons..."

Syl barely held back a wince. Oh, Loki really did love to make her life miserable, didn't he?

"You and Hiccup are the most qualified on this island — the only two I would trust to do that. You can help him out from time to time with his responsibilities, I figure, and the same goes for him. That seems fair, doesn't it? In the meantime, I can start teaching you in the art of warcraft, along with other members of the council. You've been begging to learn for years, haven't you? Well, here's your opportunity. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Syl's voice was coarse, and dry — and wasn't her own. "It really is."

"So you'll do it, then?" he asked.

Her mouth opened, then closed again. Training dragons — all the dragons — to fight against her own people, her family, and neighbors…

"Sure," she cleared her throat. "What could go wrong?"

Stoick smiled at her, and his mood seemed to lighten a little. "Great! How about your first lesson, then?"

She nodded, only half listening by then. She felt like either crying or punching something. More than anything, though, she wanted to get out.

"Well, as to your first lesson — knowing your enemy," he said. "Let's see… We'll start with their Chief. Do you know her name?"

Oh, gods.

"No, sir," she was barely able to whisper. "I don't."

"Really?" He said, a bit taken aback. "I would think that… Well, never mind. Chief Brenna of the Veiklaðar Tribe, is her title."

By this point, Syl was gripping her skirt so tightly the spikes were starting to cut into her palm.

"Now, she's almost as stubborn as you or me, but we'll get to that later. In fact, she has a daughter. Now, that may not seem important, now, but if we win… Well, we may need someone to take over her tribe. She's not very old, if I remember correctly — about your age, in fact. But that's good. You kids were the first to be convinced about changing your mind about the 'dragon' situation here on Berk. Perhaps you and Hiccup could convince her to change— Wait,"

Syl was beginning to wonder if it was possible to clench one's teeth so hard together they cracked, until Stoick stopped to stare at her right hand, still clutching the skirt.

"What'd ye' do with your mead?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shocked, Syl opened her mouth, her tongue fumbling over her sore teeth to form a sentence. Before she could stutter out a lie, however, a banging sound came from outside the door, followed by a voice. It was muffled, but if Syl leaned toward the door, she could almost make it out…

"Where did she even get the… Already got the papers, Toothless… Why do we need to come back…?" Syl's eyes widened as the voice yelled something, louder than before.

There was a loud bang on the door — not so much a knock, as something ramming against it. The voice cried out again. Stoick was confused, as well, though apparently couldn't hear the voice either, as he kept leaning further forward to hear, nearly falling off his stump.

Then, the door burst open. Wood splintered, shooting across the room, and Syl brought her hands up to block her eyes. By some miracle, the door itself stayed on, but flew around on its hinges to slam into the wall, probably leaving a dent she couldn't see. And as to the cause of all of this...

In the doorway stood the Night Fury, looking disoriented yet triumphant as a Viking still standing after a drinking competition. Without hesitating, he walked right up to her, bit down on her leg with his gums, and tugged.

She barely held back a screech, and instinctively ripped it away, her bitterness of only a few moments before now returning in a different form: rage.

Hiccup stumbled through the doorway a few moments later, staring at the door and muttering, "Gods, Toothless… Dad's gonna kill me for— Oh!"

With a start, he seemed to realize that he wasn't the only Viking in the room. "Sy—Astrid! And… Dad. Astrid and Dad. Uh… You're both, uh… here…?"

"Son," Stoick said, his eyes brightening as he stood up. "I've been looking for you. I gave Gobber your—"

"Papers, I know," he said, gesturing to a few pieces of parchment folded under his arm. "He said you were looking for me. Though he didn't mention that Astrid would be, uh…"

He trailed off as his eyes met her own, and she realized how desperate she must have looked. The dragon purred again, and made another move to tug her out the door, but she flinched away.

"So what're ye' doin' here then, son? Wanted to say 'goodbye' to your old man before your big day?" Stoick chuckled again.

"You know, Dad, that's a good question…" He shot a look at the Night Fury, but he wasn't paying attention. Instead, he kept looking back and forth between Syl and the door, as if trying to tell him something. Slowly, Hiccup's eyes widened as he seemed to realize what the dragon was saying.

"I came here... to find Astrid, actually. And to say 'bye' to you, of course. But like I said, Gobber didn't tell me you'd be up here, and I couldn't find her anywhere else. Anyway, Astrid, I need you for a… T-Thing," he seemed to struggle for a moment, before continuing, "Y'know, the thing… With the Compendium?"

"Ah, right," she stood up herself, starting to understand what Hiccup was trying to do. "That thing."

"I see," Stoick furrowed his brows, his tone growing serious once again. "Where is it just now, Hiccup?"

"Safe!" he answered, a bit too quickly. "Plenty safe. There was just something I found in it that I thought I'd need her help with, and since I'm leaving, it's sort of a right-now kinda deal..."

"He's right, Chief," Syl supplied as Hiccup's well of ideas very clearly trickled out. "It was nice talking to you, and all, but Hiccup needs to leave soon, and…" She shrugged, trying to stay casual without revealing how ready she was to spring through the door.

"Well enough, then," Stoick decided, after a moment of strained silence. "I'll leave you two to alone. I understand when I'm no longer wanted. But Astrid… You understand your responsibilities, now?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hiccup raise an eyebrow, but she ignored it, nodding instead. "I… I do, Chief."

Stoick studied her for a moment, before nodding, satisfied. "Good. Hiccup, fly safely. This shouldn't be a hard one for ye', they should sign 'em just fine. Until then... I'll miss ya, son,"

"You too, Dad," Before another word could be spoken, Hiccup grabbed Syl's arm, and the three were out the door and halfway across the Village in a matter of seconds. Neither of them spoke until they had each recovered their breath, and Syl realized they were in the blacksmith. The two-limbed Smith, "Gobber," didn't seem to be there at the time, and Syl remembered the papers Hiccup had supposedly gotten from him, wondering if that had anything to do with it.

Syl released her hand, slapping his away as she realized the two were still clasped together, clammy. Hiccup blushed, and mumbled an apology.

"Well," she began, ensuring first that no one was nearby. "I guess Toothless was able to get you the mead then, huh? Could've gone much worse. Anyway, when you, uh, came through that door… Well, not to say that I didn't expect you to. You did owe me for getting you that. But at the same time, I suppose you didn't have to, so… What I'm trying to say is—"

"Thanks?" Hiccup provided.

Syl sighed. "Thanks."

"Well, it shouldn't be for me," he said, gesturing to the dragon she hadn't even realized had walked in the shop from behind them. "I was a little confused that Toothless was the one who brought the mead back… And a little surprised it was in a mug, though I can't complain — I suppose I should be thanking you for that, by the way. Anyway, when we went back outside, I didn't see you anywhere and figured you had, uh, run off, or something.

"I went to get the papers from Gobber, but as soon as I did… Toothless started running back up the hill to my house, and well… You know the rest. He seemed to know you were in trouble, that you needed to get out. He wanted to help you, Syl."

Syl's eyes widened a bit at the mention of her name — they were in the middle of the village, after all, and Hiccup told her he was known for his slip-ups… But as she looked at him, she could tell; he had meant what he said. He was really trying to tell her something.

She frowned at the dragon. Surely, he hadn't wanted to help her… Had he? He had come back to get the mead from her, but that had only been for Hiccup, she knew. There had to be another explanation for his coming back to the house, but, well, Syl would spend her time coming up with one soon enough. Doubtless, it was something nefarious enough for his reputation — this dragon had already proven before that he was more than met the eye, and after almost being tricked into bonding with it… She wasn't about to start trusting it so easily.

Hiccup frowned, as well, no doubt as suspicious of her as she was of the Night Fury.

What happened in there, anyway? Don't get me wrong — I know better than anyone just how fun those little chats with my father are, but… Well, it's not really normal that he would just invite Astrid — you — into our house, like that. Was there something he wanted to talk to you about? That he wanted you to do?"

She blinked, snapping back to reality for the umpteenth time that day. "He wants me to… Take over the dragons, here on Berk. Train them for… For war."

"War… Against… Oh," he said, his voice growing hollow as he finished. There was an uneasy pause as each considered what it meant. Hiccup opened his mouth, likely about to reassure her somehow, before letting out a sigh, his shoulders falling. One of the papers under his arm slipped out onto the ground as he did, and he stooped to pick it up.

"Did you agree?" He asked quietly, his tone cold, but real.

"I… Did.," she answered, letting out her own breath. "But—"

"But it's not exactly easy to say no to one of my father's 'deals,' is it?" He gave a weak laugh. "Believe me, I should know… The day I met Toothless, I… Well, that's not important. But… It's not too late. You could still go back there, tell him you can't do it. I know the kind of consequences this sort of thing could have later on, and it is your tribe…"

She shook her head. "No, they betrayed me. Don't get me wrong — you and all your dragons aren't exactly my first choice, either. But if this is what I have to do, and it'll give me revenge on them — all of them…"

She shivered. "Anyway, what did you find in the book last night, after I left? I'm assuming you left it with Gothi, but for once, I don't blame you. And how did Toothless get the mead up to the second floor so quickly, anyway? Surely he didn't risk the stairs again?"

The dragon in question gave a low, annoyed growl. "He jumped on the roof, and I got it through the window. And yes, after you, uh, left, I went up to Gothi's a little while ago and left it with her, along with the recipe that you… borrowed, though we did make a copy. I just had time to skim it last night, and the first thing I could find was some poem about a dragon slayer, but…" He grimaced, catching his breath. "You can't just keep changing the subject forever, Syl. We will talk about this — eventually."

She didn't respond, and Hiccup looked away.

"I should go. We sent a message to the Stone Spears that we'd be there before noon, today. I'm already late, and…" Hiccup trailed off, before turning back to her. "Goodbye, Syl."

She nodded, and Hiccup clambered onto Toothless. As they took off, though, it wasn't the young man on the back she stared at. It was the Night Fury. She didn't even notice as Stormfly came to land outside the blacksmith.

She thought about what Hiccup had told her, about the way her hand had risen up to meet the dragon, the way it might've fit into the curve of his face, the peculiar way it felt when she had done the same with Stormfly. She watched the two until they were no more than a speck on the horizon, and suddenly disappeared, flying above the clouds.