ACT III

Chapter Sixteen

A/N: And we're back to where it all began... First chapter of Act III, you guys! The climax is grower nearer and nearer... I hope you enjoy and don't forget to REVIEW :D

In response to...

Jesusfreak: Haha, me too! I heard beforehand that she was going to call him babe...although I didn't exactly foresee it in THAT context! XD And thanks :)

Bob: Yay! :D

LittleDragonRider: Eeeee~ I'm already gushing over them! And thank you, I'm glad you liked it! (Oddvar even has 'odd' in his name XD)

Yondaime Namikaze: Wow! You graduated with an English major and you follow MY stories?! Don't people with your level of education read like...Shakespeare and Walt Whitman...? I suddenly feel very honored XD

The Wolf Raven: That's okay. If there's one thing I understand, it's school-stress! And yeah, maybe she did seem a tad bit OOC but like you said, it's probably because she's grown up and decided to stop her heartless-tough-girl act. And wow! You really think it's that original...? Yay! :D

A random surprise: You're welcome :) And thank YOU as well!

Breyannia: Uhh...haha...you'd be surprised, actually...

Hiccup's movements are mechanical, numb, unfeeling... His feet carry him through the alley in some aimless direction. The boy's eyes are distant and still tinged with red and a bit glassy...his cheeks are pink and streaked with dried tears. In his hand, is the key to Toothless's cage. All he has to do is walk there...it probably won't have an overwhelming amount of security at this time of day.

The time when the sun is just beginning to set and the horizon is practically aflame with color. Not quite night, not quite day. Around this hour, the guards are probably in the Great Hall, eating and catching up on their orders.

All he has to do...is walk to the Arena... Somewhere in the back of his mind, his logical self is screaming for him to get it together. He still technically has a chance after all. But the forefront of his mind is occupied with...something else.

Never in his life has Hiccup felt such a debilitating, near-crippling amount of fury. He's always been the peaceful type. Too gentle to hurt even a crippled dragon, who his entire tribe was sworn enemies with. But even then, when his own father disowned him, when the other teens would pick on him, when he would be humiliated day after day after day... NOTHING compares to this.

That's why his feet aren't carrying him to the Arena to free his dragon. No. Today, Hiccup is on a different kind of mission. The kind befitting of the black hood over his eyes.

And as he stalks down the narrow village streets, passing by guard after guard, soldier after soldier, and not even pausing to see if they've recognized him...the sun begins to sink behind the horizon. And soon, the sky is as black as his mood.

If Ymir dies, everything will go back to the way it was. He doesn't care how the hundreds of other guards will react...he just knows that if Ymir dies, it will fix everything. Yes, it's irrational. Yes, it's the stupidest plan he's ever come up with. But no, he doesn't care. Ymir has to die. Tonight. And that's all Hiccup cares about.

Even though that tiny part of his mind is silently begging him not to do this. It's stupid! He screams at himself. You'll be murdering him for NOTHING! It won't fix anything!

But Hiccup blocks those thoughts out. He doesn't want to hear them. It happens tonight. Because tomorrow, his father will die if he doesn't do something. Although, the closer he gets to the jailhouse...the more that inner voice starts to scream.

The husk of what used to be the Hooligan village lays eerily silent on this dark, cold night. The ghostly glow of distant lanterns float through the blackness, carried by the rough hands of foreign soldiers as a pair of quick-moving feet dart through a nearby alleyway.

The creak of a metal leg is all that can heard for many yards around as the darkly clad figure pauses, peers around a corner, and draws in a steadying breath before taking off once more. His hands reach up to clasp at the collar of his hood, keeping it low over his eyes so he won't be recognized by anyone who still might be outside their homes... If anyone saw him...it could be disastrous.

But that's when the prison comes into his view. The towering building's grey stones appearing to almost glimmer in the silvery moonlight as he draws ever closer.

This is insane... The boy tells himself. Though it's not like I have much of a choice. When he thinks of the him, the man who calls himself the Chief of Berk, a hateful anger boils in his gut and it's enough to propel his reluctant legs into closing the distance between him and the prison.

He reaches up with a hesitant hand, his fingers brushing the cracked stones while he allows himself to linger on this moment. Once he enters the jail, there's no going back. He'll find who he's looking for and end this madness, once and for all.

So the hooded boy closes his eyes and reaches up, his fingers wrapping around the ladder rung. He draws in a shuddering breath and looks up. Shifting his weight, he plants his metal foot on the wall and hefts himself onto the ladder, beginning the long climb to the roof of the jail.

The crosspieces creak as he mounts them, one after another. Higher and higher until there's no more to grab. After reaching the flat roof, he crouches down as far as he can go. Can't risk being spotted now, when he's so close.

Although, a part of him does almost wish he'd be caught. That someone would stop him from doing this...

It has to be done. He reminds himself, harshly. He can't be allowed to live. And so the boy sprints across over the short distance to where the hatch is waiting for him. He grabs the thick, iron handle and struggles to pry it open.

The lid groans and squeals, making him flinch. He grimaces at the excess sound, silently cursing these old hinges but wastes no time in throwing it open the rest of the way and hopping down into the narrow tunnels below.

He lands heavily, his legs giving a sharp stab of protest and he wobbles, having to catch himself on the wall of the rocky cave-like passageway. So close...keep moving. With that, he shakes off the pain and pushes on, determined to get this done.

The hallway is almost pitch black, save for thin strands of grey light that leak in through the barred windows. He cranes his neck to look down the corridor, praying there aren't any guards around right now. Thankfully, he doesn't spot any at the moment so he continues forward. His metal leg squeaks along with the smacks of his leather boot as he runs.

He knows the man will hear him coming... Why is that a frightening thought? He'll be locked up in a cell...so why is he so afraid? Maybe it's the horrible deal he's about to accept...

As the hooded teen rounds the next corner, he slows his steps and tries to catch his breath so he won't look so pathetic when he arrives. His emerald colored eyes flick across the narrow hall, trying to remember back to a few days ago when he'd first met this man. What cell had he been in...? Was it-

"Over here." The rough voice calls, interrupting his thoughts. And for a split second, he pauses. His feet stop moving and goosebumps crawl over his skin. He's really here...he's really about to do this...

No going back. He tells himself. I don't have a choice. And so, with a shallow, shuddering breath, he pushes on. His hands tremble as he approaches the cage, his throat feels tight, like he's choking... Gods, why is this so hard? He already knows the answer to that question...it's because he's about to sentence a man to death. That's why.

Inside the cell, the man smiles. His face is covered in shadows but the boy can clearly see the amount of scars on his face. Thin, bumpy lines that stretch halfway across his entire face at times. Marks of battle and the evil deeds that are so clearly reflected in his black eyes. His pale lips twitch upward, silently laughing at the obvious fear on this boy's face. "Hiccup, right?" Asks the older man, who sits forward and grabs the bars of his cell.

And after a slight pause, the boy nods. "That's right..."

"I thought you'd be back." He chuckles, raking a calloused hand through his shaggy, brown hair. "Not many people refuse my deals, but they do, they always come back..."

Hiccup swallows and shifts his weight, trying to avoid eye contact with this horrible man. "Oh...?" He asks, his voice cracking with nervousness. "That's-"

"But let's cut to the chase, no need to waste time." He stands up and reaches through the bars, holding out his hand palm up. "You hand me the keys and you'll get your-"

"I don't want your money." Hiccup interrupts, suddenly. The older Viking blinks, taken aback. What else could this kid want? Only then does he notice the dark look in the boy's green eyes.

"Oh, I get it..." He murmurs, thinking he understands now...

And just as confirmation, Hiccup moves closer to the bars. His voice is low, barely audible when he whispers, "I'll set you free on one condition: you make sure you complete that contract. Make sure you kill the Chief by morning. No later."

So the hired assassin smirks. "I like your thinking, kid." He purrs. "You got it. Open the door and I'll make sure Berk's Chief is dead by morning."

Seconds later, the door swings open and Hiccup steps aside. His heart is throbbing, hating what he's just done... But he ignores it. This has gone too far and he's the only one who can stop it. The villagers are counting on him to end this.

He watches with a pained expression as the assassin runs off down the corridor to his freedom, the blade tucked away in his sleeve bearing his father's name...

Or so the assassin thinks.

I did the right thing. Hiccup tells himself, although he isn't so sure anymore. He'll kill Ymir...and everything will go back to normal... Now all I have to do is free the other Riders and the dragons and we can-

"Hey, Hiccup!"

He looks up from his thoughts to find the assassin standing in the open doorway. There's a little smirk on his scarred face when he says, "I'll be waiting in the square for you. Make sure you're not late..." And then, he disappears out the door, shutting it behind him.

A/N: Alright! Explanation achieved! Didn't I say it was more straight-forward than it sounded? The assassin IS going to kill the Chief...because Stoick is technically no longer the Chief!

Also...sort of a "bipolar" chapter...sorry.