Chapter 5

ASTRID

In the blink of an eye, Eret had Astrid's wrists clenched tightly in his grip. Even lifting the dagger far above her head only brought it just above his eye level. Rather than looking at the blade, a wide-eyed and slack-jawed Eret stared down at Astrid.

Silence.

Eret made a valiant attempt to blink away the shock. "Well," he said.

Astrid gritted her teeth down into a deep scowl as she hissed out, "Did you actually think I would trust you?"

Eret breathed out a slow reply: "Most women do."

"Then I'm not most women."

"I- yes, I just discovered that."

Using the hand holding Astrid's unarmed fist, Eret snatched the dagger from her fingers. He relinquished his hold on her wrists while sidestepping and sliding the dagger into a pouch on his belt. "I was wondering where that was, so I suppose... I suppose I could be thanking you right now."

Astrid lunged at him. Again, his calloused fingers snagged her wrists. The confusion ebbed from his face as a dull, unimpressed frown took over. "What do you want, then?"

"To get out of here!"

"I can safely bring you to your destination without any of the hindrances you'd undoubtedly face if you attacked me and ran out of here."

She didn't have a destination.

Astrid uncurled her fists and relaxed her shoulders just enough for Eret to pull back slightly. "You don't have a destination," he murmured.

"Yes, I do!"

Eret shook his head. "No, you don't." After swiping his gaze across her face, he surveyed her frame and trace her long braid. "But you clearly don't like your position right now. Or at least," he said, "what you think your position is."

Astrid snorted. "What's that supposed to mean, exactly?" she demanded.

His grip, already firm but painless, loosened just enough that she could actually move her wrists in his hands. Eret's frown twisted into a miniscule smile that curved the blue runes tattooed on his chin. "Alright, miss..." He raised an eyebrow to punctuate his question.

"Astrid." Even relinquishing her name felt like an admission of weakness.

"Astrid, I do not want to sleep with you, for reasons that will remain my own." He released her wrists and took a step back toward the table. "I do, however, want to maintain a certain illusion with my warriors."

Her mind scrambled for what he'd told her before she'd first lunged with the dagger. "So you're willing to pay me to stay quiet and pretend that you... that we..." She laughed low. "Again, you think I'm actually going to believe you?"

"I get the sense you don't want to be here, yes?"

Rolling her eyes, she snapped, "What gave it away?"

"So the woman outside - your handler - forced you to be here."

Astrid glared, but the tiny breath she released must have confirmed his statement enough for him to continue.

"You haven't been able to escape from her before now."

"It's... complicated." Her mother- Gothel knew too much. She had revealed the secret of Astrid's hair to Snotlout of all people, so Gothel would tell whomever about its magical properties if she thought it would help her control least if they stayed together, Astrid could keep an eye on Gothel.

Astrid huffed. When she resumed glaring at Eret, he hummed but chose to maintain the silence between them. Eret's brawn concealed a comparable strong set of brains. He was, at least, a strategist. Grudging respect kindled deep within her.

Eret resumed his own ruminations. "So, for whatever reason, you can't escape. And I doubt you have any interest in sleeping with my warriors?"

Astrid hissed in a breath, opening her mouth to snarl, but Eret cut her words off. "Okay! Clearly not! So..."

"So," she snapped.

"I think you and I should make a deal."

She didn't bother with a full reply - only a loud snort her mother would have hated to hear.

Eret raised his hands in an act of placation. "Hear me out. I don't want my men sending any more... ah, women of the night into my chambers. You need a safe place to reside while still being near your captor. Right?"

Astrid raised an eyebrow.

"Alright then. Hear me out: you stay with me - sleep over on that cot in the corner. I sleep in my bed. We have nothing to do with each other in that way-" his hands gestured between the two of them, and Astrid took a moment to be proud that all the blood in her body hadn't rushed to her face and ears "-but all my men leave you alone because they think we're continuing our involvement, and I pay you a small sum each night."

It was... a good deal. Astrid steeled her face, hoping to keep it unreadable. With the high esteem his men clearly held Eret in, they wouldn't bother her. Whatever plan her moth- Gothel had contrived would seem successful, so she too would leave Astrid alone. "What do you get out of it?" she questioned. "Other than your men not sending more girls in for you."

"I'll save a good amount of coin, for one," Eret grumbled, scratching the nape of his neck. His hands brushed over a few diagrams scattered across the table. "It will also give me some desperately needed peace and privacy. All I ask is that you occasionally spend nights in a separate tent, no questions asked."

"And your men will leave me alone on those nights?"

"If they believe you and I are still involved, yes."

Her brow lifted. "Yeah, I don't really see your men as all that honorable."

Eret shrugged. "Eh, perhaps not. But they are loyal." At her shaking head, he added, "I'll talk to them, if that will make you rest easier."

It was too good of a deal. All her safety for his privacy? She crossed her arms as she glowered at him. What exactly did he have to hide? Not that she would ask. If this arrangement was going to work, she did not want to encourage any expectations of sharing secrets.

"How do you expect me to trust you?" Astrid repeated.

Eret shrugged. He glanced at her, then the gap in the fabric serving as a door, to his bed, and back to her. Lips pulling into an almost bored frown, he took a step forward. Astrid tensed, but Eret simply passed her to move toward his bed. As his shoulder brushed hers, though, he paused. Something shiny appeared in front of her, and she flinched before recognizing it.

Eret held his dagger out to her.

Her eyes shot up to find his. Eret shrugged again.

Astrid's fingers inched up to wrap around the hilt. Even on this warm night, it cooled the tips of her fingers.

Relinquishing his hold, Eret walked to the bed. She turned to watch him begin stripping his wrappings off his forearms. "Good night," he said.

Outside, the camp thrummed with chatter slowly petering out, flowing away with the dimming sunlight that peered through tiny gaps in the fabric walls. The candlelight danced on the blade in her fingers. After a long moment, Astrid walked to the cot in the corner. She forced her steps into something much slower than a rush to match her heartbeat. "Good night," she replied.

Astrid slept.

Too many hours of the night trudged past her,i in which Astrid listened to Eret's raspy snores, switched the hiding spot of her new dagger several times, and writhed on the warm, soft cot in order to stay awake and vigilant - Astrid finally gave herself permission to drop her consciousness into peaceful oblivion.

She blinked bleary eyes open to bright sunlight stretching through the gap serving as the door to Eret's quarters. Eret himself had gone. Boisterous conversations and the general rattling of life en masse beyond the fabric walls meant Eret had likely departed hours ago.

Moving from the tawny sheets took an intense amount of discipline. Even then, she could only bring herself to sit up in bed and stretch her fingers to the ceiling. Her bones responded with satisfying crackles that shivered up her spine and into her wrists and elbows. A deep exhaling and inhaling brought in the scent of food: a platter covered in various fruits, cheeses, and breads. She spotted it, tempting her from atop the table in the center of the room. Despite the desperate snarls of her stomach, Astrid squinted her eyes shut and turned her head away. Eating mystery food was a venture in foolishness. Pulling her chin up, her head fell back. She relished the icy burn of her neck.

Astrid languished in the quietness and the isolation. Nothing chained her or tied her up. She simply existed by herself, with a weapon, at peace. Some level of supervision likely still prevailed - she suspected that exiting the tent would leave her at the nonexistent mercies of Eret's warriors and of her mothe- and of Gothel. But for now, she sprawled across her bed and watched the hours shorten the shadows that glided across the thinner swaths of tent fabric.

Only when conversation swelled in volume near the entrance to the tent did Astrid focus back on the world around her. Eret ducked through with his eyes squeezed shut. "Are you decent?" he asked.

It took her a moment to realize he was referring to her clothing. "Yes," she answered, the word lengthened by her hesitation.

"In the future, I'll enter the tent with my eyes closed," he said softly as he looked around the tent. "Less suspicious that way." Eret slung a bag off his shoulder and paced over to the table. "I left this out here for you. I would have left you a note, but I wasn't sure you could read."

Despite a suddenly dry mouth, she frowned and asked, "You thought I couldn't read?"

His grimace grew. "Several of the women that my men sent me... had never learned."

A shudder rippled through her, but she replied, "I can read."

Holding up one of the fruits from the platter, Eret raised an eyebrow at her. "Apple?"

Astrid shook her head, but her stomach loudly protested. The glare she shot at him already seemed outdated, but Eret harbored serious delusions if he thought one dagger would spawn infinite trust.

He blinked rapidly before realization made his twisted face relax. Rather than respond, he crunched a large, juicy bite between his teeth. Through a full mouth, he garbled, "Catch."

Pride pulled a small smile across Astrid's face when she was able to grab the apple out of the air. In less than a minute, the skinny, exposed core of the apple toppled through her fingers to the ground. Eret huffed out a low chuckle before pulling out a chair from the table and sinking into it with a groan. From the platter he grabbed a slice of bread, nibbled at a corner of it, and then tossed it to her. She eyed the cheese on the table - cheese and bread sounded phenomenal, especially after the turmoil that seemed now to span her entire past. Eret kicked the other chair back and nodded toward the chair before bending over to yank his boots off his feet.

The protests of distrust and safety ricocheted around her brain, less and less convincing or discernible in the shadow of her smoldering hunger. Astrid slid her blanket down to her ankles, jumped to her feet, and scurried to the chair. In that time, Eret had taken small bites of the froth-yellow cheese she'd been scrutinizing. Astrid took a corner of the cheese and popped it into her mouth before tearing a chunk of the bread in her hands. The textures and tastes revealed that her moth- that Gothel had never brought home these types to the tower. Astrid shook off the thrill threatening to rattle her bones. A whole world of new tastes and new experiences stretched out around her, but this new reality would have her gasping and overwhelmed if she pondered it too long.

The process continued: Astrid demolished everything on the plate, but only after Eret personally sampled every item and thus proved the absence of poison.

Astrid had nearly polished off the final item, a pear, when the fog of hunger lifted enough for the revelation to occur: she no longer needed to obey her mother's rule of not speaking while eating.

"I have questions," she garbled through the cool juiciness of the fruit.

Having retrieved a flask from his belt halfway through Astrid's meal, Eret took a quick swig before relaxing back farther into his chair. He nodded at her.

Her toes curled from the effort of controlling her entire body perfectly, of refusing to let her teeth bite down on her lip. She wrestled with the deluge of questions threatening to flood down her tongue. After letting out the tiniest of breaths, Astrid finally ventured to ask, "Why are you capturing dragons?"

Eret's head tilted as he stared at her with a furrowed brow. Again blinking away his confusion, he tapped fingers on his flask. "It's a lucrative business in this archipelago," he explained. "Most kingdoms allow us to move around their lands freely because they want us to get rid of the dragons plaguing their people."

"Where do they go? The dragons - what do you do with them?" She swallowed the last bite of pear, though the sweetness lingered.

Dropping the flask onto the table, Eret gazed at it mindlessly for a long moment, long enough for Astrid's intuition to prickle in the back of her skull. Wouldn't that be a simple enough question to answer? Her guess as to the answer of the question was that dragons yielded products like any other creature: their meat for eating, their talons and horns for tools, their eyeballs and saliva for salves and mixtures. Gothel left many gaps in Astrid's education, but a younger Astrid had prodded her mother into explaining that most tools and types of food could be traced back to plants or animals. Eret's hesitance both to answer and to provide a convenient and believable lie had goosebumps skittering across her arms.

"It depends on the nation, I suppose," Eret eventually forced out. "Some nations put a high value on items made from dragons, but too many captured dragons flood the market and drive down prices. They want extra dragons during the war to mass-produce supplies and weaponry. Other nations just want the dragons dead and gone, unless the dragons are also causing problems for another nation they're warring against."

Astrid gritted her teeth at the answer - detailed, but still dancing around a larger truth. Eret was hiding something - something far more important than why he didn't take any interest in women of the night. Any prodding would prove fruitless, though, so she pulled another question out of her brain. "That's what you do, then? That's your whole job? You trap dragons?"

"That's my principal role, yes." The room was steadily filling with secrets.

Shoving herself to her feet, Astrid pulled an elbow above her head. Her core buzzed as stretching sent relief flowing through her muscles. She stared at ceiling, pointedly ignoring the man before her.

Eret asked, "Any more questions?"

"Why bother?" she fired back. "You aren't answering them." He grimaced.

Still ignoring him, Astrid marched back to her cot and pulled the dagger from its current hiding place beneath her pillow. With a completely different weight, balance, and purpose than a frying pan, Astrid doubted she would be able to use the dagger without practice. Grabbing on tightly to the hilt, she stabbed upward then downward with the air. Memories of patrons of the Moldy Cabbage flipping their knives around had her own mind spinning with the possibilities of tossing the knife in the air, but its sharp blade gave her pause. Astrid instead gripped the hilt tighter before swiping horizontally through the air.

"Ah... you're holding it wrong." Astrid paused at Eret's voice and at the strange lilt of hesitancy in his words, as if he was trying to sidestep offending her.

Astrid snapped her head to him and pinned him down with her stare. "What do you mean?" She cursed herself for practicing in front of him, revealing yet another aspect of her lack of experience.

Pulling another dagger from his own belt, Eret held up his hand to show her his fingers. He'd wrapped four fingers behind the back of the hilt, and his thumb was around the front, similar to Astrid's own positioning. Whereas Astrid's thumb was wrapped around, however, Eret had planted the print of his thumb to the hilt, just below the beginning of the blade. His twitching mouth revealed how he was struggling to control his features, likely for her benefit.

Astrid swallowed down the fiery indignation in response to his pity. Instead, she adjusted her thumb to mirror his.

"This grip gives you more control, and it allows you to move from an outward transition to a chambered position." His actions followed his words; in the blink of an eye, Eret flipped the dagger so that it was stabbing downwards in his fist rather than upwards.

She squinted at his fingers, her mind unraveling what she'd just seen to understand how it had worked. "Show me that again."

Eret flipped the blade back upwards. "This is the outward position," he explained, voice even and calm. "To change to chambered position..." Moving much more slowly, he switched his pointer finger to rest just above his thumb, let go with two of the back fingers, and let the knife pivot downwards while still pinched between the pointer and the remaining back fingers. Several more times he repeated the action while Astrid picked apart every tiny tick in movement with her eyes.

"I saw other people tossing it," she ventured.

"Showing off, then. This movement is far safer and keeps your hand in control of the knife at all times. Not that you should ever change grips mid-fight, anyway."

It took a few tries, but Astrid eventually flipped the knife from outward to chambered position - albeit at a more gradual pace.

Nodding, Eret sheathed his own dagger. "Practice that," he said, a groan lacing his words as he pressed his palms to his knees and pushed himself to his feet. "I'll check in on your progress when I return."

Astrid's mind flooded with conflicting thoughts: shock that Eret apparently planned on teaching her how to fight with a dagger, and intrigue over his departure. "Where are you going?" she asked. When Eret didn't reply, Astrid huffed. "Come on, there's no bother keeping that a secret. We're sharing a room. I'll figure it out eventually anyway." That reasoning applied to this entire frustrating conversation, but she could try to put a small chink in the armor around the truth.

He tilted his head and frowned. Apparently acquiescing somewhat, he said, "Reports indicate a dragon nearby that the local villagers want gone, but the beast has proved a bit too rough for my men to handle so far. I'm going to oversee the capturing."

Curiosity chilled her blood. "I want to come."

Eret pulled the lid off the wooden chest and slung a knapsack from its depths onto his shoulder. Closing the chest, he turned to the door and called over his shoulder, "Ha! Not a chance."

HICCUP

Only because he couldn't see her did Astrid permit a smirk to creep onto her face. She hadn't been asking for his permission.

"This is going to go terribly," Fishlegs whined. "I can already tell."

Hiccup chose to grit his teeth rather than to hiss at Fishlegs to stop talking. As suspicious as Fishlegs whimpering to himself might appear to passerby, the supply cart that Fishlegs pushed whispering back would arouse infinitely more notice. Clenching his jaw tighter, Hiccup pinned his focus to the sliver of light leaking through the doors of the cart. At this point, Hiccup had thought through the plan again and again, just slowly enough that he had to beat back the doubts and inconsistencies and possible catastrophes that wormed their way to the surface.

In an entire week of planning, he and Flynn Rider really should have thought of a better alternative than Hiccup shoving his body into the cabinet of a supply cart.

Also, in the hundred years of living here, the royal families really should have considered flooring that would be less painful to traverse across via wheels.

As he bitterly thought, Snot and the twins had better be in position, for possibly the thirtieth time that evening, the light at the door dimmed as the echoing of the cart wheels changed timbre. Hiccup buried his face deeper into his arms to muffle a sigh of relief. If Fishlegs could push this cart from the library all the way across the fortress to the dungeons' entrance, they had a good chance at pulling off the heist with few disturbances.

"Jarl Corran!" Fishlegs squeaked. If Hiccup had the space to slap himself in the face, his skin would already be stinging. Alas, the scrolls scattered across his legs would crackle too much with such a movement.

"Where are you going?" the jarl rumbled, much closer to the cart than preferable.

An ear-splitting laugh bubbled out of Fishlegs before he sputtered out, "Just wanted to check on some inconsistencies in my research! You know! Dragons! So much to learn!"

Hiccup maneuvered his limbs so he could bite down on his knuckles. Their cover story was convincing enough to be believed but maybe not enough to be respected.

"You're certainly dedicated," Corran rumbled, "to be checking so late in the day."

Not that keeping his eyes open had done him any good before, but Hiccup slid them shut to listen to the rest of the fabricated tale. Fishlegs must have bumped into the cart because it rattled Hiccup as Fishlegs began speaking, still rushed and squeaky: "Ah! Yes! Well, you see, previous experience led us to believe that the Night Fury was nocturnal-"

"Because they only attacked at night," drawled Corran.

"Yes! Yes, exactly, because of that! I want to observe first-hand the Night Fury's change in behavior to coincide with nocturnal hours. Perhaps the dragon has specific features that only manifest during the night!"

Fishlegs' deep breath to continue blathering about dragon biology and behavior stopped short at Corran's long hum. "That might actually prove useful," Corran's voice rumbled. "I'll leave you to it. Good night." His footsteps echoed away like thunder, so obvious and memorable that Hiccup again smothered the urge to slap himself for not hearing Corran's initial approach.

The cart rattled into movement again, not entirely drowning out Fishlegs whispering to himself, "Wonderful! Excellent! Delightful! I'm going to die!"

Only a few minutes passed before the cart halted, and the voice of a guard sounded somewhere above Hiccup. "More research, Fishboy?" Gotr's nasally voice wheezed, unmistakable.

"It's Fishlegs, actually, and yes."

"You should have sent notice that you were coming," Gotr grumbled. "Now we'll have to send for additional guards to hold the beast down. You know this, Fishboy!"

"No need," Fishlegs replied, too perky and upbeat. At least he was picking his battles by not choosing to argue with Gotr over his name. "I'm simply here to observe behaviors. No samples today."

Gotr grunted. "I suppose that's fine."

A pause rolled through the dungeon. Then Fishlegs cleared his throat. "I still, ah, need you to unlock the door."

"Can't you observe from out here?"

Fishlegs's stores of forced cheer ran dry very quickly. "Can you see the dragon from out here, Gotr?"

"Well-"

"No. You can't. Because the dragon has retreated too far back in this ridiculously large cell for anyone to be able to observe it from here."

The sound of chewing filled the air. "Don't feel like getting up."

Fishlegs sighed. "So give me the key ring then."

Only when Hiccup heard the rattling of keys did he realize how hard he'd been biting down on his fist. Releasing his hand and uncurling his fingers, he grimaced. Hiccup would never admit, at least not to Flynn Rider, that trusting the thief's attention to details was proving very fruitful. Timing this stage of the heist to begin at dinner time had been a stroke of genius.

A loud creak signaled the opening of the cage door. Hiccup's head hit the side of the cart as Fishlegs shoved it forward, but the rumbling of wooden wheels on stone drowned out the noise.

Hiccup shifted his body slowly into a relatively more comfortable position, taking care not to disturb the papers surrounding him. Now, all he could do was wait.

A boom shook the castle.

So much for waiting.

"What was that?" Fishlegs yelped, nearly drowned out by the sound of a metal food platter clattering to the stone floor.

"I don't know, but you had better stay here. Rudel, stay with him," Gotr commanded. He paused, then snapped, "Well, someone has to!"

Hiccup drummed his fingers on his knees to match the tempo of his heart galloping around in his chest. He'd planned the heist around Gotr and Rudel - who was infinitely more quiet and more ornery than Gotr - being on duty at Toothless's cage tonight.

Rudel and Gotr made fairly good soldiers but terrible sentries.

Hiccup could only imagine Rudel's further protests no doubt in the form of angry facial expressions. Gotr eventually snapped, "Fine! Come on then!"

"But what about-" Fishlegs whined.

"Stay here, Fishboy. Make sure you lock the cage behind you."

Hiccup's body tensed as he listened to the receding pairs of running footsteps and waited for Fishlegs to open the cabinet doors. They swung open almost immediately, flooding Hiccup's vision with bright light.

"Aah- Fish- don't-"

Fishlegs backed away as he chuckled nervously and swung the lantern behind his back. "Oops. Sorry."

Hiccup unfolded his body and took a wobbly step onto the floor. He leaned on the cart heavily when his body fully stretched into a standing position. At least he wouldn't have to rely on his legs for the majority of the excursion. His prosthesis wobbled under him, but thankfully due more to his lack of leg strength than any structural insecurities in the device itself.

All thoughts crumbled to dust when a low hum reverberated from the dark depths of the cell.

Limping around the cart toward the shadows, Hiccup crouched slightly as he squinted. "Hey, Bud," he called, keeping his voice low enough to skim the floor on its path through the darkness.

The darkness leaped forward, green eyes widening as teeth retracted. With a whirring noise, Toothless shoved his nose into Hiccup's stomach.

Hiccup yelped and then laughed, reaching out to wrap his arms under Toothless's jaw. "How are you?" he crooned. He sought out the soft spot and scratched at it. The dragon ceased tapping his feet and melted into Hiccup's grip. "I bet they're not feeding you nearly enough, huh?" Toothless hummed again.

"I... uh... wow." At the sound of Fishlegs's voice, Hiccup craned his neck to glance back at his shoulder at the slack-jawed, limp-armed library assistant trying to sputter out a decipherable response. "That's... wow."

The smile on Hiccup's face physically ached from potency. "Fishlegs, meet Toothless. Officially, I guess." Toothless's eyes remained closed as he reveled in the bliss of chin scratches.

Fishlegs shuddered before clearing his throat. "Right. How far away is the tunnel?"

"It's in the storage room to the right of the dungeon entrance." Part of him shriveled a little at so casually revealing a secret passageway's location, but Hiccup gritted his teeth in an effort to refocus. He usually neglected to use that particular tunnel due to its entrance's location in a busy part of the fortress. Though Flynn Rider now knowing about it meant Hiccup would have to alert the guards to the passage's existence, the loss of usage wouldn't inconvenience Hiccup too much.

"Right, but how far away is it?"

"If all goes smoothly, just a few minutes." He'd told Fishlegs all this well in advance, but Fishlegs's panic was clearly overpowering his already powerful retracted his hands from the dark scales, offering his dragon an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Bud, but we've got to get you out of here."

Fishlegs yanked handfuls of scrolls out of the cabinet in his cart. Hiccup grabbed a few from Fishlegs's arms and began scattering them about the cage. A few glances at the scrolls confirmed what Fishlegs had already informed him: these scrolls were erroneous transcriptions of texts already preserved in the fortress library. Only a trained eye would notice, though.

After dumping the rest of the scrolls into Hiccup's hands, Fishlegs darted back out into the main hallway. Seconds later, he scurried back into the dungeons. "The coast is clear," he hissed.

Hiccup dropped the scrolls and pointed at the various piles of parchment scattered across the floor of Toothless's grimy cell. "Blast 'em, Bud," he said. Toothless stopped sniffing at the scrolls and began firing small, quick bursts of plasma at each pile. Behind them, Fishlegs squeaked, but a loud crash told Hiccup that Fishlegs had remembered to tip the cart over.

Pivoting, Hiccup faced Fishlegs.

"Make it count," Fishlegs groaned, scrunching up his face and squeezing his eyes shut.

Hiccup nodded and gulped. "Sorry," he offered. Then he punched Fishlegs in the face.

Fishlegs cracked open one eye. "Hiccup."

"What?"

"Even by my standards, that was a terrible punch."

"Uh, okay, rude."

"I barely even felt it."

Throwing up his hands, Hiccup shoved Fishlegs forward toward the open gate of the cell. "Let's just go!"

They both froze at the sound of footsteps rounding the corner. Before Hiccup could formulate a last-second plan, a figure came into view.

"Hey guys," Snotlout greeted, swinging his arms at his sides.

"Snotlou- you're supposed to be guarding the tunnel entrance!" Hiccup hissed.

Eyes half-lidded, Snotlout offered a smile before replying, "Yeah, but there's no way you'd be able to give the fish guy an actual bruise." He waved at Fishlegs. "Hi, fish guy."

Sniffing disdainfully, Fishlegs said, "You're certainly a common thug."

Snotlout punched him in the face.

Screeching, Fishlegs doubled over as his hands flew up and plastered over his eye.

Hiccup took a step toward Snotlout, who was shaking out his fingers with a bored sigh. "What in Thor's name-"

"What, like your punch was going to do the trick?" Snotlout panned.

I miss the days when I was the only sarcastic person I knew.

Hiccup huffed at him before glancing at Fishlegs. "You good, Fish?"

"No."

As he winced, Hiccup asked, "Are you bruising?"

Fishlegs lowered his hands to offer Hiccup a very lopsided and swollen glare.

Surveying the results, Snotlout hummed. "Not my best work."

"It'll have to do," Hiccup sighed. Ignoring Snotlout's yelp upon realizing that yes, rescuing a dragon meant he was face to face with said dragon, Hiccup beckoned to Toothless, sidestepped through the cage door and around the toppled supply cart, and began weaving through the halls leading to the rest of the fortress.

A quick glance back revealed Snotlout in a borrowed servant's cloak, his eyes wide and shoulders trembling as he side-eyed the curious Toothless. The dragon, predictably but still thankfully, followed Hiccup close behind.

Minutes galloped past like seconds as they crept through the hallways and out of the dungeon's depths. Every rabbit-paced beat of Hiccup's heart drummed into his ears. He paused often and frequently had to hush Snotlout's nervous breathing in order to listen for footsteps.

Finally, the door to the dungeon loomed before him. Having oiled them earlier in the week, Hiccup didn't hesitate to grab at the handle and pull the door open. Peering through the tiny crack he'd created, Hiccup scanned the hall.

Gaulton. Of course it would be Gaulton.

Hiccup would have a clear view of the storage closet containing the secret tunnel entrance, had one of the castle guards been looming in front of it. Hiccup had only ever managed to evade this particular guard, Gaulton, once - and that had been at the city's gate, with Astrid. Even if Gaulton had his usual compatriot Mikhael at his side, the former would not have repeated the mistake of sending the latter after Hiccup this time. Gaulton would be handling it personally.

Hiccup's fingernails gouged into his palms. He glanced back at Snotlout. One of Flynn Rider's conditions for assisting Hiccup was maintaining the anonymity of himself, Snotlout, and the twins. Even if Hiccup sent Snotlout out as a distraction, Gaulton could out-run and out-think Snotlout easily.

Toothless, pupils dilated, bounced forward past a scared-stiff Snotlout to nudge at Hiccup's back. If Hiccup simply sent Toothless out to deal with Gaulton, even knocking him out would only solidify in everyone's mind that dragons were mindless, brutal creatures.

Hiccup gritted his teeth, wanting to groan with frustration. Sending himself out would either look too suspicious or would result in Gaulton whisking him off to safety. Toothless would not take kindly to that, and Snotlout wouldn't be able to control the dragon's protective instincts.

"What are you doing here?" He knew that voice. That would be Cass.

Da-da-da, we're dead.

Hiccup froze, afraid Cass would notice the door's movement if he nudged it closed. He could only watch as she strode up to Gaulton, thankfully with her back to the doors.

Gaulton straightened up and fastened his fingers more tightly around the hilt of the sword sheathed at his belt. "I wanted to ensure safety in this part of the palace, in case the disturbance was only a distraction."

Yeah, no, Gaulton can definitely out-think Snotlout.

"Smart," Cass replied, and even from a distance Hiccup could see a surprised smile twitch on Gaulton's lips.

A compliment? She complimented him? What, is she in love with him or something?

Pivoting on her heel, Cass gestured back down the hallway she'd come from. "Please attend to His Highness." She shook her head. "He's either in danger, or he's behind all of this somehow."

Rude.

Gaulton stammered before swallowing and replying, "As you say. Skol."

"Skol," Cass replied back. Her eyes followed Gaulton as he sprinted away, and she remained still long after the echoes of his movements faded.

Tipping her head back and sighing, Cass grumbled under her breath, "He's definitely up to something. Hiccup, you idiot." She marched down the hallway in the opposite direction of Gaulton. Hiccup bit down on a massive grin. Cass was clearly headed to the library.

Thank Thor I didn't use a tunnel in there. Too inconvenient in terms of distance from the cells, anyway.

He waited until well after he couldn't hear her before yanking the door open and darting over to the door of the storage closet. Having ensured earlier that it was unlocked, he still heaved a massive sigh when it swung open. Hiccup shoved Snotlout and Toothless into the small space. As he closed the door, he had to stoop down and yank Toothless's tail inside. The storage closet proved, as previously suspected, only just large enough to contain the three of them - not by any means comfortably.

Snotlout took the initiative to join Hiccup in approaching a large shelf. They grabbed onto either side and dragged it sideways along the wall. Hiccup threw all his effort into it, painfully aware that his current awkwardness with his prosthesis meant he didn't have enough stability or leverage to be of much help. Sniffing and poking his nose at the bookshelf, Toothless hummed in tune with Hiccup's strained groans. The dragon's ears quirked when the tunnel breeze drifted across his scales.

"We have a problem," Snotlout grunted.

"Yeah, thanks," Hiccup fired back, brow furrowing as he took the biggest step he could back from the shelf - which wasn't much, and therein lied the problem. The wall wasn't long enough to fully slide the shelf away from the tunnel entrance, and Toothless occupied too much space for them to pull the shelf across the floor.

Toothless tilted his head at Hiccup and then at the door. Then Toothless solved the problem - and made everything worse - by rearing back and blasting the shelf to smithereens.

The force of the blast ripped a scream from Hiccup's throat and threw him back into a pile of small crates. Pricks of pain from countless splinters erupted across his skin, and a piercing whine drilled into his ears. Hiccup groaned at the ache in his neck when he craned it to see Snotlout sprawled out next to him.

"Great, now the entire fortress knows we're here," Snotlout said - he possibly yelled it, not that Hiccup could hear anything properly right now.

Hiccup ignored Toothless' flattened ears and cowered stance, instead just shoving the dragon into the tunnel. "Come on, you useless reptile," he hissed, barely able to make out his own words. Sensing the urgency, Toothless picked up the pace. When Hiccup glanced behind him, he spotted Snotlout mouthing curses as he shoved a large chest in front of the door to the hallway. Once satisfied with the makeshift barricade, Snotlout barreled after them. Hiccup pushed at Toothless again to move faster. The dragon opened his mouth and cultivated fire in his throat, lighting up the otherwise pitch-black tunnel.

The ringing in Hiccup's ears gradually faded beneath their echoing footfalls and loud, wheezing breaths.

"Freaking dragon," Snotlout muttered.

The pinprick of yellow light that sparked in the distance flooded Hiccup with some mixture of relief and wariness. He could only hope a friend was yielding that lantern. Toothless snarled, and Hiccup pushed himself to move a little faster, putting himself in front of his best friend.

The light grew in size and brightness. Tension in Hiccup's chest abated ever so slightly when he recognized the silhouettes of Ruffnut and Tuffnut - long-limbed and weirdly angled as ever.

"Whoa, nice dragon," Tuffnut observed, leering, when Hiccup, Snotlout, and Toothless slowed to a stop in front of them.

Ruffnut jeered, "Probably can't make a fire as impressive as what we just did, though!" She lifted a palm, and her brother slapped it without looking.

Hiccup grimaced. "What did you set- No, nope, actually don't tell me."

"It was a-"

"No, guys, I said do not tell me!" Hiccup took a moment to drop his hands onto his knees and fill his lungs with much-desired air.

"You guys better have distracted everyone away from this area," Snotlout whined between giant breaths.

Ruffnut nodded. "Never doubt our capacity to move people toward or away from specific locations for the purpose of distraction."

"Noted," Hiccup muttered. Straightening his spine, he marched past the twins and through the thick brambles. Behind him, Toothless snarled at Ruffnut and Tuffnut before following Hiccup. In his peripheral vision, Hiccup saw the twins flatten themselves against the wall of the cave, clearly just realizing that breaking a dragon out of prison meant having to meet said dragon.

Only the distant flickering of lanterns lit the night when Hiccup emerged into the pit. He turned to admire how the leaves and ivy covered the tunnel so thoroughly that it appeared to be another normal part of the fortress wall. It's a shame I'll have to get my dad to discover this one.

Swinging himself up on Toothless's back, Hiccup spared only a single glance down and a few words for Tuffnut, Snotlout, and Ruffnut, who stared up at him slack-jawed. "You guys can find your way to safety, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yup."

"Obviously."

Hiccup nodded. He turned away - then, clearing his throat, he looked back at the three wide-eyed "thugs" staring at him atop Toothless.

"Uh, thanks. I... I couldn't have freed him without you guys."

Snotlout made a poor attempt to conceal his amazement with arrogance. "Duh," he scoffed, far quieter than normal.

Shifting his weight back and forth, Tuffnut dropped his gaze to the floor as he scratched his arm. "Sure."

Only Ruffnut seemed to take it all in stride, winking at Hiccup and crooning, "Anything for you, Crazy Boy."

Hiccup coughed. "Yeah. Anyway. Thanks." Refocusing on his best friend, Hiccup scratched between Toothless's ears, resulting in a happy purr rumbling through the dragon. "To the cove, bud. Let's get you out of here."

Toothless crouched down, wiggled into a better position, spread his wings, and then obliged.