Hadrian delays going down to breakfast as long as possible the next morning because he really doesn't want to discuss his nightmare with Hiccup. Somehow he's just not up to talking about it. He knew Hiccup had an early morning meeting at the Academy to discuss a Dagur meeting, and Hadrian really couldn't care less wherever Stoick ran off to.

He takes a long hot bath, dresses slowly into an outfit he makes from whatever's laying at the top of the drawers of his dresser. As he descends the stairs, he looks out to the table and finds it set with plates covered with napkins. Removing each napkin reveals a new delicacy. Sausage, eggs, potatoes, buttered bread, and yak milk are spread across the table. Hadrian eats his fill, trying to drag out the minutes until ten o'clock, where he's duty bound to head to Gobber's. Still, at nine-thirty he brushes his teeth before meandering down the hall, effectively killing another ten minutes.

He saunters the whole walk to Gobber's shop. The trek seeming longer without Lightning to fly. He keeps his hands in his pockets, and slinks to the one side of the road as villagers pass by him. Keeping his head bowed, he avoids the glimpses of the villagers, feeling their gazes burning through his skull.

The only thing keeping his spirits suspended by a highly thin string, is that he'll visit Lightning at the end of the day. They may not fly, knowing Stoick by combust if he sees them, but they'll at least hang around the Academy. They'll surely find something to do. At least Hadrian gets to distract himself, and he needs a distraction right now.

Hiccup inspects the wooden board that holds the parchment paper map layout of Outcast Island. They were supposed to be having a Dagur meeting, but Snotlout was complaining about seeing the Five Signs of Valhalla.

Everyone now was listening to Snotlout rant on about how 'One of their bravest and most treasured warriors' is leaving the world. All Hiccup could do was hear the worlds eternal paradise from Tuffnut and Astrid. All Hiccup could really think about was Hadrian and his nightmare last night. And how he ceased to talk to Hiccup. Even being a young man himself, Hiccup hated the manly pride Hadrian and his father both seemed to posses.

Hiccup tried to think through how he could help Hadrian, but Snotlout's annoying speech was intruding.

"Are you done?" Hiccup asks.

"No, not even close." Snotlout replies. "Though devastated and still in pre-mourning . . ."

Hiccup tunes him out after that. He wanders over to the Skrill's cage and sees the dragon coiled into itself, breathing evenly. Hiccup couldn't help but think of what it would do if Dagur ever were to get his psychotic hands on it. he remembers about his Stoick told him that Beserker fleets could actually harness the power of the Skrills and wipe out every village in their path. His stories were only proven right when Dagur controlled a different Skrill with a mere harness and two ropes. If he got Lightning, who is arguably already trained, there's the small chance he could rebel against, him but it'll result in a cruel punishment for Lightning.

By mid-afternoon, business at the shop was enough that Hadrian had his mind busy until his break. Things were booming and his hands were stiff from sharpening and hammering. Apart from an unwelcome visit from Smashley, things were good and Hadrian was in fair spirits despite the rainy overcast.

Hiccup flies around a sea stack then barrel rolls, blasting two small boulders as he rounds the lap and back to the start. He lands Toothless on the highest stack and dismounts. He pats Toothless and the Night Fury coos.

"What am I going to do bud?" he asks. "Going against my father isn't exactly an option, but how else can Hadrian keep Lightning?"

Toothless only coos and licks Hiccup's cheek. He then turns his head out to the sea, and he suddenly snarls.

"What is it bud?" Hiccup asks.

Looking out, Hiccup pulls out his spyglass and zooms in on a small ship approaching the docks. Upon closer inspection, Hiccup's heart sinks like a rock into his stomach. A cold ice chill forms at the bottom of his spine and electrifies as it travels up his spine, leaving his entire body numb.

The ship had the Beserker emblem on it.

"Oh no." Hiccup whimpers. "No, no, no, no. We need to get back to the Academy."

Hiccup and Toothless speed over the sea and into the village. The wind whistles in his ears, thunder rumbles in the distance. The wind burns his skin as it swirls and whips at him.

Hiccup stumbled off of Toothless just as his feet had landed. Regaining his balance, Hiccup barrels through the entrance. But he didn't even get to the end of the ramp when he saw the open doors of the cage that once held Lightning.

The knot was building in the pit of his stomach. "Gods no."

Hiccup pivots on his heels and leaps on Toothless.

"Quick Toothless! To the docks!"

Toothless snarls and whips his wings.

Hadrian had an odd feeling as he organizes Gobber's dagger collection. Hadrian scowls as the weapons reminds him of that lunatic of the Beserkers. He coils his fingers around the hilt and places it on its hooks on the wall.

He was so preoccupied he didn't even notice the strange noises coming from the docks. Hadrian lifts his chin. The intake of breath from the gathering crowd, the sound of men hackling, and a shrill cry. It was something Hadrian so easily recognizes. His aches and he drops the last three daggers and springs from the shop and out into the Square.

When Hiccup lands near the docks, it's clear his assumption was right. It's clear something's up the crowd's too thick to see. Hiccup's frightened by what he sees, but somehow he knows there's much more to come. Whatever it is, it's terrible.

Hadrian pushes his way through the crowd. People see him, recognize his face, and then look panicked. Hands shove him back. Voices hiss.

"Get out of here, boy."

"You'll only make things worse!"

Their voices are cut off by a strangling cry.

Hadrian's heart is beating so fast and fierce. He knows what lies beyond the crowd. And when he breaks through, he's right. The voices were right.

Lightning's neck had a harness on it, and the voices he heard were the Beserker men struggling to get him loaded onto the dock. Two men held the ropes connected to the harness, while three others held aluminum poles with loops of rough rope constricted around Lightning's snout. The shaft of aluminum bowed in the middle, but only a little. The dragon roars and bucks back violently as his eyes stay focused on something on the ship.

Hadrian's immobilized by his fear, the fear of watching his nightmare come to life. Following Lightning's gaze, Hadrian sees a four-wheeled wood plank with two iron arches and four chain-ankle shackles that all connect to one another.

"Whoa, whoa. Easy, easy." A man coaches.

Lightning's red eyes burn with a frantic look that ice Hadrian's blood. Finally he snaps from his trance, breaking his trance and moving his feet.

"Lightning!" he roars.

He runs up to the Beserkers and spots Gobber near the men. Lightning tries to tear at the rope with his claws. But the combined strength of the Beserker and outcast men was way too much, forcing the condemned dragon closer and closer to the boat.

"No! No, you can't take him!" Hadrian says, his voice rising in desperation.

"Hadrian I'm sorry, but this isn't my decision." Gobber says.

It feels like a knife was dangling over Hadrian's heart by a single thread, and Stoick just cut that string. The men have lured Lightning onto the boat and now shackle his ankles. Lightning tries to conduct electricity like the other Skrills, but it hasn't rained for days and he hasn't charged himself up. He hisses and tries to chomp at the men.

"He's never been on a boat before!"

"He's going to be fine, son." says Captain Vorg of the Beserker fleet. "He's going to be our main weapon."

"He's scared! He can't move his wings!" Hadrian screams. Then a deafening roar splits the air.

"Hadrian," Gobber calms as he holds his arm. "I'm sorry, but Dagur said that Stoick officiated the trade with the Skrill."

Hadrian pauses, then his lip slowly contorts into the most gruesome snarl. He then spins on his heels and bolts for the boat. A hand, most likely Gobber's, snatches his arms, but Hadrian draws out his knife and nicks him on the forearm. Gobber hisses from the pain and releases him at once. Hadrian dashes over the wood bridge and bodyslams the first Beserker soldier in the side and over into the water. He reaches Lightning and without a word start to loosen the muzzle with fumbling fingers. Lightning huffs at the site of Hadrian.

"Get away from that dragon boy!" an Outcast solider orders.

"No!" Hadrian screams back.

Hadrian whirls around pulling forth his knife. His voice was hard and cold as ice. "No."

Rough hands grab Hadrian from behind and Hadrian thrashes as a primal howl escapes his mouth. They jerk him back then forward on his knees, knocking the blade out of his hand.

Hiccup sees this as he was only three people away from the breakthrough. While others may see a deranged, mad man, hiccup can see the hysteria and desperation in his eyes.

"Hadrian!" Hiccup screams as he finally pushes his way through the crowd.

As Hadrian looks up, another grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls him back to his feet. Hadrian hisses from the pain and with his wrists bound in on giant hand he follows the harsh pushes off the ship. The hand slowly releasing his hair as he gets closer to the docks.

"Gobber!" Hiccup runs up to him. "You unload Lightning, before you look like a damn fool!"

"What is wrong with you?" Gobber hisses. "This was your father's order."

"He made this decision without me! Because he knows it's wrong!"

"I'm sorry, I'm done discussing this."

"Well I'm not! Hadrian found Lightning, he should decide!"

The men then secure a wooden collar to Lightning's neck, and Hiccup's suddenly brought back to when he watched the men of his tribe secure Toothless the same way when Stoick was using him to get to the nest. Hiccup's chest suddenly aches with the memory, and now watching Hadrian live through it. He's never seen him so broken.

At the last minute, Hadrian plants his feet at the threshold, lowers his head, then slams it back into the one guard on his right. The guard tumbles back into the water, and using his shoulder, he jab the other under the chin before fisting his hands and reeling it into the man's cheek. Hadrian kicks his legs out from under him and the man plunges into the water.

The moment Hadrian turns around, he's met with a suckerpunch to the face. Pain stabs his jaw and spreads across his face, making his vision go black at the edges and his ears ring. Then he's met with a hard kick to the stomach. The mysterious foot forces the air out of his lungs and it hurts, hurts so badly he can't breathe, or maybe that's because of the kick, he doesn't know, he just falls. With another stabbing in the face, he's kicked off the bridge and his back smacks onto the docks.

"Hadrian!" Hiccup cries and instantly, he's at his side.

Lightning meanwhile, thrashes and stomps at the plank and jerks at the chains. Hadrian pushes himself to his feet, and Hiccup's already there to help. As Hadrian blinks to restore his vision, the sound of footsteps draws his attention.

"So sorry, Hadrian. But I can't have you spooking my Skrill."

Hiccup and Hadrian glare at Dagur as he casually strolls off the bridge with his axe resting on his shoulder.

"It's not yours." Hadrian responds darkly. "It was never yours."

"Well, it is now. And I must say, I should thank you for all your work. Makes it that much easier to control the glorious beast."

"He'll never submit to you. Never." Hadrian growls.

"Oh, I think he will." Dagur retorts with a grimace.

Hiccup still holding Hadrian's arm, Dagur approaches and places the blade of his axe just under the tip of Hadrian's chin. Hiccup gasps slightly, but Hadrian doesn't flinch.

"I have my ways. I can be very persuasive."

Hadrian's breathing increases for a few breaths before Dagur's blade is knocked aside and Hadrian tackles Dagur and pins him to the ground. Hadrian can hear Hiccup screaming his name but it slowly tunes out. Like he was submerged underwater. Hadrian punches, and Dagur moves his head out of the way, but Hadrian punches again, and again, until his fists hits Dagur's jaw, his nose, his mouth. Hadrian tries to claw over the claw streaks of paint over Dagur's one eye. Blood runs down the side of Dagur's face and splatters on the ground next to his cheek.

Hadrian is screaming, harsh bursts of sound that flay the air with their fury. It's as if all his anger at Stoick, at Dagur, at anything in the world was now condensed into theses screams along with his flailing fists. Hiccup yells his name until his throat is hoarse, but Hadrian can't hear him.

Dagur howls and drags one of his arms free. He punches Hadrian in the ear, knocking him off balance and wriggles free. He then grabs Hadrian's hair with one hand and punches him in the nose with the other. This pain is different, less like a stab and more like a crackle, crackling along his brain, spotting his vision with different colors. Hadrian's face is wet. Bloody nose. The blood streaming from Hadrian's nose is thick and dark and covers his fingers in seconds.

"-adrian. Hadrian! HADRIAN!" Hiccup's pleading voice suddenly pierces through the confusion and ringing in his ears. He feels hands grab and practically pry him from Dagur with irresistible force.

Hadrian stumbles back, breathing through grit teeth, into Hiccup who instantly starts to inspect his face, handing him a rag. Hiccup wipes the blood while Hadrian tries to sniff it back. Hiccup cringes and Hadrian can taste the crimson on his throat.

Looking forward, the two boys see Stoick. His eyes are too wide, they look alarmed, confused.

"You fucking son of a bitch." Hadrian mutters.

Whether it was to Dagur or Stoick, Hiccup doesn't know.

"Alright men!" Dagur suddenly cheers. "Let's take my dragon!"

"No!" Hadrian wails. A wail that curdles Hiccup's blood and makes his hair stand on end. A scream like that can only mean blood or bone or pain; that scream that comes from the pit of your stomach and extends to every inch of the body.

Hadrian throws himself forward, but somehow Hiccup's grip on his arm manages to hold him in place. Hadrian's hysterically crying as he watches the Beserkers push the boat out of the docks, the moment Dagur jumps onboard. Stoick looks back at the boat, pain in his eyes.

"Please! No!"

The rest of the men all climb into their boats and ship off. Dagur's boat is already in the lead. The blood from Hadrian's nose has stopped, and now tears cur trails down through his bloodstained cheeks.

He turns to Gobber. "Gobber! Please!"

Gobber only keeps his head bowed, avoiding eye contact. Lightning roars and frantically jerks and thrashes; rattling the chains, snorting and kicking trying to break free.

"No! Lightning!"

Lightning roars frantically in reply to Hadrian's voice. It echoes all through the docks and rattles the island.

Hadrian wrenches his arm free and Hiccup allows him to sprint to the wooden steps that trail up the Cliffside, up to the same spot where he watched the men sail off with his best friend.

The rain starts to trickles down slowly as he bounds the steps. He gazes out to the side.

"No!"

He makes it to the top, and the ships are just over the horizon before the sea cuts off into nothingness. The rain comes down harder and harder now the more Hadrian sobs. He had heard once that rain was the tears of the gods. And now, he finds that to be true. He sobs and takes short breathes.

With one final breath, he gathers his strength. "LIGHTNING!"

After a rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning in the clouds, he hears the dragon's final roar. Then it fades under the overpowering pouring of the rain.

His knees give out and the floor is cool against his palms. Something slams into his side and he screams for the first time, a high screech that belongs to someone else, and not him, and it slams into his side again, and he can't see anything past the water in his eyes and permeating his clothes.

Hiccup brings his hands to his face and chokes back a sob. He sniffles and runs his fingers through his hair. His father still stands at the edge of the docks, gazing out into the sea. Hiccup looks to him and a seed of hatred burrows into his heart. It acts like a parasite and infects it entirely until any love and respect he held for his father is consumed by it. It actually offers something like comfort. He no longer sees his father as the man he once was. And now, no one ever does. Not knowing what to do next, with Hadrian needing time to calm and the moment still seeping into the village, he walks over to Toothless and lets his tears fall. Toothless licks them away and coos in sorrow.

As the crowd disperses, Stoick looks back and sees Gobber and Hiccup. Gobber looks to him and sighs shaking his head, then sauntering off to join the others. The rain forcing them to dry places, but Hiccup stays.

Stoick sighs and slowly approaches Hiccup. For the first time in his life, it seems the roles are reversed. He now feels intimidated by Hiccup and one wrong word will send him exploding. He stops a few steps from Hiccup. Hiccup barely looks over his shoulder, then looks back.

"Look, son -"

"You know, when I was little," Hiccup interrupts. "I remember mom used to say, 'I love you until the mountains come crumbling down', now it feels like they'll blow away at any second."

"When your mother, passed, I promised her I would protect you at any cost. That I'd keep you safe. That I'd keep you out of trouble." Stoick says.

"Dad, I don't need saving. I'll be fine wherever I go." Hiccup sternly says, then he turns to face Stoick. "But Hadrian, you could lose him. He's . . . smart and he's strong, but he can't survive out there."

"That boy lives in a fantasyworld."

"So do you!" Hiccup snaps. "Look at you standing on your village, watching the world pass by. When are you going to look at Hadrian and realize he's you?"

Stoick stays silent and looks away.

"And that's why I care for him so much. Then you go and do this. To me. To him." Stoick looks and sees Hiccup looking directly at him. His eyes glassy with tears.

"Hiccup," he reaches out a hand.

Hiccup backs away. "No." he mutters.

"Hiccup, please." Stoick doesn't retract his hand. He fingers just touch Hiccup's arm.

"No!" Hiccup yells. "No! Don't you fucking touch me! Don't you ever touch me!"

Stoick stumbles back, baffled and shocked.

"You're not my father anymore." Hiccup stabs.

Before he could even see Stoick react, Hiccup whirls around and mounts Toothless. The two take off, leaving Stock behind in their wake of wind.

Hadrian sits with his back pressed against the rock wall of the cliff. His clothes were soaked through, his knees tucked to his chest, his forehead resting on his arms, hair sticking to his skin. The rain pounds against him but he barely feels it. He's too numb and weak to care. No one comes for him, not even Hiccup. Yet he feels grateful, after his episode he couldn't face anyone tonight. And yet he can't suppress the hysteria and anger welling inside his chest.

He lifts his head and can't even see the sea anymore. He can't see anything except his reflection in the sheet of rain pouring from the heavens. Flashes of what happen keep intruding on his mind, feeding his anger and making want nothing more than to pound Dagur. The blood coating his face seeming to be an appealing picture to Hadrian; then he and Lightning can retreat to another island.

Hadrian sighs in aggravation and scrambles up from the platform. He hurries into the night and heads straight to Gobber's shop. Walking through the doorway, he makes sure to shut the window and start a fire on the hearth to warm himself. But he doesn't bother changing his clothes.

Instead, he digs through Gobber's cupboard and pulls out the six-pack of his white liquor. He takes them over to the hearth, pulling up a chair from Hiccup's desk in the back and pops off the cork. Tipping the bottle back, he takes a couple gulps and then coughs. The liquor stings the back of his throat, but instantly it ignites like fire and travels through his veins. Numbing the pain and emotions in a way he likes.

He tips the bottle again, and focuses on the crackling of the fire. He burps and a small spit of it comes up. Swallowing back it down he finishes the first bottle, slamming in on the table before him. Snapping the seal on the second one, he takes one swing, and then places his foot on the hearth, tipping his chair back. He rocks himself back and forth while thunder rumbles outside. Wiping his nose he tips the bottle again, a buzzing beginning in the back of his head.

The rocking soon makes his stomach churn, and he lowers himself finishing the second bottle. Hallway through the third bottle, he hears footsteps outside. He doesn't bother getting up, knowing the room would spin and the liquor will reappear. And the only place to go would be the fireplace, but it's flammable. So he merely sighs and takes a more timid sip.

"Hadrian?"

His head turns to the voice, to find Heather standing timidly in the doorway, fiddling with the end of her braid. He doesn't say anything. She wears her usual clothes with her cloak for the rain. Her green eyes sparkle against the fire, the rain drops sparkling on her face. Of course that could be the drinks thinking.

"Are you okay?" she asks, stepping closer.

For some reason, Hadrian giggles. His head is spinning and his limbs have long since begun to feel like flippers. "Never better. Though Gobber should to a better job at hiding his drinks." His words slur together, and he knows Heather's probably scared.

"Seems like an appropriate way to handle things." She sarcastically speaks as he approaches him.

"Feels good. Don't knock it until you try it. You can literally feel everything drowning inside." Hadrian emphasizes his point by taking a swing at the bottle.

Heather is tempted to take the bottle away, but he has three more all lined up next, so it would be pointless, plus who knows if he's violent when intoxicated. So she keeps herself at a safe two feet while Hadrian rests with his elbows on his knees, the bottle between his hands. His clothes clung to him from the rain and Heather can feel her cheeks warm as they exaggerate his muscles. A single tear of rain trickling down his cheek and stopping at the corner of his mouth.

"Hadrian, maybe I should take you home." Heather gently suggests.

"I don't want to go home." He rejects.

"Hadrian, drinking your problems down isn't good, it'll only make you sick and worse. And very sick." Heather says.

"What do you know?" Hadrian gets up from his chair and Heather steps back. "You've never experienced loss before." He walks around his chair and faces the wall. He places the bottle on the desk and runs his fingers through his hair. He places his palms flat on the table keeping his head low. "You've never experienced loss. Not this great."

"Look, I'm sorry about your dragon. But I just want to get you home before that liquor makes its reappearance." Heather says and she gathers her courage and approaches him.

She stops when she sees his back muscles go rigid. Heather barely made it back far enough when Hadrian snatches the bottle and chucks it into the fireplace. The flame explodes in a ferocious burst of sparks, and embers and heat. She brings her arms to cover her face as she feels the heat rushing her. Hadrian doesn't move as it dials down from the drink and settles back into the hearth. Mild black charcoal marks along the brickwork.

Heather's heart is beating hard in her ears, but it settles down enough that she was able to speak in a steady voice. "Hadrian, please, let me take you home. You're scaring me."

"Sorry." He says. But Hadrian still pops the cap of the fourth bottle and takes a small sip. Then he chuckles. "It was all a waste. Wasn't it, Heather."

Heather doesn't know how to reply, more afraid she'll say the wrong thing and he'll chuck a bottle at her. So she simply advances towards him with cautious steps.

"All those nights, that feeding the patience, all ripped from me with a simple signing of paper or a mere handshake." Hadrian continues on, gripping the bottle with white knuckles.

Heather reaches out her arm and when it brushes against his arm, he doesn't withdraw. She slowly encircles her hands around his bicep. Her dainty fingers courageously reach up and caress his bruised face and red tinted skin.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hadrian." She gently guides him to look at her. "Please know that. And if I could do something I would."

This manages to bring a small smile on Hadrian's face. "Thank you, Heather." He nearly whispers.

Then she suddenly tenses as his arm wraps around her torso in an embrace. She in return coils her arms around his neck, his wet hair helping to extinguish the heat rushing to her face. Ignoring the smell of the alcohol, she detects the essence of the rain pond lilies.

When they draw apart, his hands stay at her waist. She doesn't move them. Her hands have come to rest on his chest, his clothes only halfway dry. Beneath them, she can feel his heartbeat. Staring at his chest, she lets herself feel its rhythm for a few beats before she forces herself to look at him.

He stares at her with those blessed green orbs. His hand reaches up and pulls back the hood of her cloak. And then, as she tentatively traces her fingers over the forming bruise under his eye, the unexpected happens. Something she never thought Hadrian would ever do – he kisses her.

The pair of warm, soft lips connecting with her skin set her on fire. She doesn't know why, but she felt her entire body tingling; from the toes on her feet to the hairs on her head. Her brain was turning to mush and she knew she was melting. She had conformed to him right as his touch, and that was apparent now. Her mind was telling her this was wrong, that she should stop him from touching her. That he didn't want her.

Yet her heart was telling her an entirely different story.

Still she steps away and avoiding his gaze she turns herself around. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, she feels Hadrian's arm wrap around her chest and his hand cup her cheek, tilting her chin towards him. And that's when his lips move to her neck.

They were soft kisses, and the light sucking on her pulse made Heather grip her cloak in surprise. She tilts her head to the side subconsciously to give Hadrian more access to her neck and her eyes close. She's allowing herself to enjoy what he was giving her.

Hadrian's fingers graze over Heather's cheek, and the contact makes her swallow thickly and her mouth opens again, letting out an audible moan. The sound she made broke the silenced barrier between them. It was as if any type of sound broke Hadrian out of his dream-like sequence he seemed to be living in. It made everything completely real.

Hadrian's fingers were now at Heather's chin, and he turns her around so she's facing him. His green eyes were full with lust. Like he was hungry and on a hunt, but Heather wasn't scared. Yet at the same time, they are warm, and welcoming, and soft. She could almost see the alcohol swimming in his eyes. This should discourage her, but it only makes her draw closer to him.

He wants her. She knew that at first glance. But not because of any type of feelings he has towards her I it was because he was lonely, drunk and vulnerable. But he was contemplating it. He wasn't sure if he should touch Heather anymore. She could tell he was treating her as if she were fragile and made of glass. He was afraid of hurting her.

So that's why it took her by great surprise when he leans, his eyes closing as he closes the space between them. Heather could smell the alcohol on his breath as he inches closer.

Knowing all of this - knowing he was using her, knowing how he was treating her right now, and knowing her heart was racing and she can hear it pounding through her ears - she does the one thing that's right, but lacerates her heart like barbed wire.

She leans back.

Hadrian stops and his eyes open, wounded.

"I'm sorry." She whimpers, barely audible. She covers her mouth in fear she might start crying. "I just, I can't. Not when you're like this." She says clearer.

The hurt seems to disintegrate a little in his eyes, but Heather's discouraged when she watches them disappear behind a cold wall of anger. His hands leave her waist, and shivers run up her spine. The rain has lit up only slightly, and Hadrian bites the inside of his lip.

"I should go." He mumbles.

Heather's heart sinks as he steps around her.

"Hadrian!" she cries, snatching his arm. "Please, please don't take it the wrong way."

She pulls herself closer.

"I want you. I do. But just not like this." She repeats. Praying that through his drunken eyes the message is still clear.

Hadrian merely nods his head and says "Okay."

Then he leaves her standing alone in the shop. Heather turns to face the fire and releases a choked sob. Speed-walking through the rain Hadrian doesn't feel the anger inside him to grow. Instead he suppresses it with the wave of heavy emotions he felt with Heather. Still gripping the fourth bottle. He's having trouble focusing, and liquor keeps sloshing out of out of the bottle. He drops it and lets it shatter on the road.

As she staggers up the steps to the house, he pounds on the door and it opens. As the alcohol overcomes his mind, he feels the glass shattering is appropriate since he's lost his grip on everything.

When Hadrian wakes the next morning, the sun is piercing through his curtains, blinding him on contact. He groans and rolls over his bed. He doesn't feel much, but the inside of his head is fuzzy, like it's packed with cotton balls. As his body one by one comes back to consciousness, he's left a little confused by the sweet smell on his pillow. It had an airy scent to it, somehow more, feminine.

His yes slowly blink open, the room comes into focus. The only thing keeping the pain at bay is making it difficult to think straight. Hadrian groans and rolls placing his hand on his head as if gently throbs. His hand feels cold as his eyes adjust, he finds himself in a canopy bed. White sheets drape over him, and that's when Hadrian realizes his torso is bare.

Panic sets in for a brief moments as he tries to piece everything together. He scooches to the edge of the bed, still covered by the sheets and sees his clothes were gone, but others were strewn along the floor. His heart beats faster as he props himself on his elbows. He looks around the room and finds two doors. One leads out to the rest of whoever's house he somehow ended up in, and then as he was moving aside the sheet, the other door opens.

Hadrian's eyes widen and his throat constricts when he sees Smashley walk out of the bathroom wearing his tunic. Her hair was down and in waves. She usually keeps them in pigtail braids. She had a weird natural glow to her and it was after she picks up her pants that she turns to Hadrian.

She smiles and perks her eyebrows. "Oh good! You're up!"

Hadrian doesn't say anything as she rounds the bed, trotting and sits on the edge near him. She extends a hand, fiddling with his hair and Hadrian's too in shock to move away.

"You were marvelous last night, Hadrian." She says smiling, in a deep seductive voice. Then she giggles. "I mean what a wild ride!"

Hadrian opens his mouth to try and say something, but his throat is dry as sandpaper.

"Anywho," Smashley gets up and pulls on the pants. "I need to go and set up the stand. I'd leave before my parents get back from harvesting the apples." Hadrian shifts to resting on his hands. "You can sneak out the back door, and oh."

She nonchalantly strips off his tunic and lays it on the bed.

"Here's your tunic. I folded your pants they're in the chest next to my wardrobe." She says with a sultry smile. "Let me know when you're drunk again." She pulls on a new purple tunic. "Maybe we can play a game next time."

With a wink she then spins, her hair fluttering and haloing her head, and strolls out the door. Smiling like's she's been crowned queen of Berk.

Hadrian sits there in shock long after the front door closes. There was no pride, no pleasure. Nothing but pure shock, and a little nausea. Whether it was the alcohol or seeing Smashely wearing only his tunic, he doesn't know. He manages to piece together one thought through the confusion, mugginess and dizziness.

"No more white liquor."