Ghost's Reign Chapter 29: All Tied Up, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 29, everybody! The boys are in trouble. D:

So this bit was actually written way back—think I was still reading DeadlyBagel's A Gift of Wings and was motivated (said fic is finished but good night after we got to the Hiccup's consent is not required stage I just noped clean out of that DX). Hiro's channeling some of Sassy's energy from Homeward Bound there, by the way, while Obake's quoting Rorschach from Watchmen.

Tggttggg, thanks for the review! Glad you like it, and hope to continue to please! :D

Obake groaned awake, sloshing stomach telling him he was on a ship, clanging bells sounding distant…wait….

"Good, you're awake."

Jolt the rest of the way to wakefulness, looking around sharply before the pain in his head said that was a bad idea—do his best to curl up on himself, squint up at the man stomping forward to loom over him.

"I doubt your backup will be able to tell which ship we took, and we'll be fast enough to be back at our island by sundown tomorrow."

Okay this wasn't good even before accounting for being trussed up like a dead chicken. "You sure that's wise? Taking a ghost right to your doorstep?"

"I do," the man said, reaching back. "Because I think I have the means to make the ghost behave."

Obake had to squint when the man brought a black bundle around, vision still blurry from that blow to the head—felt his stomach do something mighty uncomfortable when he realized he recognized that bundle as a trussed-up unconscious little Fury.

"An obake paling around with a Fury," the man said. "I can think of a few people who'd love to learn of this."

Oh they were screwed. "Ah…anyone in particular?"

"You'll find out," the man said. "Now, behave yourself, or…."

Didn't control his expression fast enough, plummeting stomach at the sight of a knife at Hiro's throat making his face flare and highlighting his emotion—the man nodded. "I thought so. And now, you know the price of misbehaving."

Oh they were so screwed.

So this was going down as the suckiest day in the history of suck.

This had been Hiro's assessment upon waking up to find himself tied up so tight he could hardly breathe, continued to be his assessment when he saw Obake in similar straits, was cemented as such when Obake was taken one way and Hiro was taken another. Not good.

Hiro snarled and bucked, held in place by ropes, muzzle bound, trussed up worse than the trap Obake had downed him with ages ago—rage and helplessness boiled in his blood—stupid stupid so stupid—

Calm. That was what Older-Brother always told him. Rage, frustration, anger—these emotions ate thought, rendered a dragon down to nothing. Calmness was key, allowed for thought, for plans…like how letting agitated water calm allowed one to see the fish within.

Huff, close his eyes. Calm. Calm. These not-dragons hadn't killed him yet. Or Obake, from what he could hear—they had crowed and jeered when they had been brought in all tied up, he expected they wouldn't be quiet at Obake's death. For some reason, they were holding off.

Calm. Calm….

It meant he had some time to figure something out.

Open his eyes again, edges not as fuzzy as they had been in his anger. Examine his surroundings, look for the different angle. He would save Obake, if the Yokai didn't get himself free first—but first he had to free himself.

Okay, let's take stock of everything then. Wiggle, test his bindings…ropes, strapped to the table on top of that, some metal contraption around his muzzle. Poke his tongue out to test the bars…hmm hmm, felt too thick to be strained out of. Flex claws…felt free enough, but with paws not in a position to be useful. Try to turn one to let his claws saw at the ropes…even one claw….

Huffed and relented when the strain ached all the way through his shoulder and across his back. Okay. Forget that for now. What else?

Well, he was in a wood-nest, he could see that much. Maybe not a wood-nest, maybe one of those things like where the Yokai stored supplies and sometimes let the dragons into when it rained. This one smelled of some form of grass and some larger land creatures—perhaps these not-dragons sheltered them here from the rain. High roofs, thick beams that a little Night Fury could scale, small windows up high just big enough for said little Night Fury.

If he could get free.

No—no. There was no if. He was going to get free, he was going to get his friend, and they were getting out of here.

Glance down at the Goregutter in the room—two not-dragons, sitting at the strange plant that Yokai called a table, different from the variation he was currently strapped to, eyeing him critically. Of course, he had stopped his struggling and raging, that was questionable.

Hmm…maybe he could use this.

Thrash a bit, feeding into their expectation—ceased, focusing on his breathing, ensuring he could get enough air still…made it sound more laboring when he heard them wonder aloud if he was wearing himself out.

Hurr-hurr-hurr! Foolish not-dragons, thinking he couldn't understand them when they spoke the same language as the Yokai! He had an edge they didn't realize, and he inwardly cheered at his insistence at staying with the Yokai. This was obviously a good thing, he'd tell Older-Brother when they got back.

…You know, if Older-Brother didn't come crashing down in a searing bolt of vengeance first.

That was a good thought, he spent a moment or two fantasizing about that before bucking and struggling again. Maybe he'd be lucky and that'd loosen the ropes…but that would still leave him with the problem of the muzzle, which would prevent him from firing any plasma blasts….

Dig deep in as he paused in his thrashing again, stirring the feelings inside…he was still a long way away from recharging, really shouldn't have wasted his shot on only one not-dragon, should have hit somewhere else…or not at all, convince them he didn't have fire, was a weak little hatchling—they might not have muzzled him then…no, they would have, he still had teeth, should have sheathed them and pretended incompetence, or not run out at all and lurk and harry….

Well, there was no use fretting over a missed shot now—buck again, told himself that he'd know better for next time, if there was one.

More not-dragons came in, with a pitcher that was like a small earthen puddle, and something long and thin like a snake—talked with the other two not-dragons—

Hiro started, bucking and snarling with renewed vigor as they tried to stuff the snake in his mouth—no no no he was not letting them stuff a snake in his mouth to bite his tongue no—no wait, what if it was an eel they were trying to force-feed him that was worse—

Choked when they succeeded, pouring the pitcher into its mouth—why did they stuff it in tail first—choked worse when water suddenly flooded his throat. Hack and spit and choke when they pulled it out—what were they trying to do, kill him!?

Play dead.

Hiro examined the thought as he struggled to breathe evenly again, realized the suggestion in Obake's voice was sound—Obake had delighted in teaching him silly little tricks that had no obvious reason beyond being pleasing and fun, some that had more immediate uses—play dead had been a silly little trick.

Except now, when it had a use.

"HEEEEEEEZE—bleh," he noised, flopping down, eyes closed, stuck his tongue out the side for good measure—it would have been best if he could roll over, but this would have to do. Forced his ears and nubs to stay still at the sound of panic—ahaha, achieved what he had been aiming for, conned them into thinking they had drowned him. And from the sound of their panic, he had been right in supposing they didn't want him dead just yet. Poked, prodded—don't react, don't react….

Was rolled to his back—aha, one binding down. Loll uselessly—felt the bindings on his tail and muzzle go away—rolled back to his belly, forced himself not to react as his jaw was forced open, possibly to peer down his throat—hold his breath, had to be convincing….

The not-dragons were getting increasingly agitated as they cut away the bindings around his body, convinced he wasn't getting air they needed to be able to free his ribs—flop down, let his wings loosen….

His wings were free.

Open his eyes the barest of slits to take stock of where the not-dragons were, poking and fretting, one running out the not-nest shrieking for help—

Roll, dropped off the table—

Hit the ground on all fours, shot up the beam and across the rafter before they could react, aiming for the little window—sniff, felt the breeze—this had no clear covering like in Yokai—one leap—YES!

He couldn't help the triumphant shriek as his wings flashed out, twisting him away from the nests—there were not-dragons barking, but he was a Night Fury in the night—they'd never touch him.

A faint twinge in his wing that the ropes had aggravated reminded him to never say never—shake his head, ear flaps slapping his neck—these not-dragons weren't Obake, and he was much cleverer this time around—he wouldn't fall for the same trap twice.

Find a spot to settle down, where he could look down on the nest—dove further into the forest when he heard a spine—arrow—whiz by. Circle around again at a different spot, where he could peer at the agitated nest.

Now was a moment for debate. He was a hatchling still, one that had used up his one shot. And if—when he got Obake free…they would be one small hatchling and one flightless Yokai trapped on an island of hostiles.

He flipped his ears back and forth—he could go find Older-Brother…except he didn't know where he should be going, only a vague idea, with no idea if there was land to rest on between here and there—if it was too far, he'd crash into the ocean in exhaustion, to be snapped up by aquatic dragons or very large fish (which would be an insulting way to go, to be fair). And by the time they returned, Obake could be….

Shake his head again, trying to jumpstart an idea—he couldn't leave Obake here all trussed up. Yokai were like Night Furies, they operated best when they were free and able to act on their feet. Getting Obake free would be the priority, they could figure something out from there…would only be able to hide from the hostile nest for a little bit, but hopefully that would be long enough to get help, for help to arrive….

Claw his way up a tree when he heard baying dogs, jumped a few trees over, closer to the steeply descending rocky coast—it would be tricky for any land-bound creature, traversing those rocks, but the not-dragons seemed to have worked around this by building wooden docks down it, leading to—

Hiro slapped himself with his tail—of course! Not-dragons crossed the ocean using water-travelers! And hadn't Obake used one to get to that island the night Older-Brother had come? That was how they'd get away.

Okay, so right now the plan had two…three working parts. One, get Obake; two, evade hostiles; three, get a water-traveler and get out of here. Hiro could hunt for fish on the way back to the Yokai-nest, and he knew Obake could eat fish raw if need be—it wouldn't be cut with rice or the smelly sauces Yokai preferred, but it would do.

So. Strong focus on step one: freeing Obake.

He debated, decided to settle in the tree and watch the nest for now, wait for it to settle down—doing otherwise would be like approaching a hornets' nest right after clipping it. Could probably hover over it, try to deduce where Obake was being held, but he had to let feeling return to his wings properly after being bound so long, had to give the nest time to settle down into its normal routine, allow him to slink around and sniff Obake out. Stomach rumbled, throat ached—should probably find food and drink too.

Huff again. Ugh, this was frustrating.

Calm.

Right. Charging back in like a hothead would just get him turned into a coat. He had to be clever about this, had to be patient, wait for the right time to strike.

He settled in, knowing this would take a while…perk his ears at the sound of not-dragons below him. Look down—aimlessly looking around, hadn't traced to him, but had apparently seen the futility of trying to see a Night Fury in the woods at night. Left the dogs to bay at the one tree, left a guard on that tree…one idiot actually tried here little dragon, like he was summoning a pet.

No, dummy-dummy-dummy, he thought, wrinkling his nose. Obviously couldn't park it here for much longer—he'd be easily seen during the day. Would have to circle around without alerting the dogs.

Stand, extend his wings…waited until a good breeze hit before launching himself into the air, trusting the wind creaking through the trees to mask his departure. Circle around for a long time, wings loosening…finally settled where he could still see the village but be hidden in the trees, latched his claws in deep…now, for the part he hated.

Now…to wait.

Obake could make an educated guess from the commotion outside, waited until a guard ran in to address the chief before making his snide comment.

"Let me guess," he cut in, before the guard could speak. "He got away. The dragon equivalent of a child outsmarted you." Dismissive chuff and glance away twisted the insult in deeper, he thought.

The chief stormed up to him. "You. You did this."

"Oh yes certainly, I worked some sort of magic to con the Fury free," he said, hoping his disgust was evident. "Certainly I must have done something right under your nose, while you were sitting here watching me, whilst I was and still am all tied up. Do you hear the holes in the logic?"

The chief growled, paced away. "Find it," he told the guard.

"Yes, find it," Obake said. "Or hope it flew far away. I know I don't want to be here when its friends show up."

They looked at him. "What?"

"Didn't you know? Furies travel in packs. And they don't take their hatchlings being harmed very well."

It was good to see them squirm, even if he was baiting a viper. "I will kill you."

"You will try," he countered, deciding that was better than saying well that was a given. "Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't tried before now. Were you wanting to make it a spectacle?"

Knife just under his chin. "There's someone who'd pay heartily for the head of the Yokai's leader."

Oh that was rich—and it honestly didn't matter who, either. "You seem to forget I'm simply one of Callaghan's attack dogs—he won't come for me."

That chuckle wasn't comforting. "Oh, we heard otherwise—we heard it was you leading the Yokai now."

Drat it all—but it made this amusing, at least. "You expect quite a bit from them, it seems."

"I'm sure they'll come trying to save you—"

"And I'll stop you right there," he cut off, not wanting to deal with yet another gloating monologue. "You're expecting something resembling order from what amounts to a pack of rabid dogs. I was unfortunate enough to win the position of top dog because of unseating Callaghan. With me gone, they'll most likely fall upon themselves. Between you and me, this is actually an improvement."

He loved how confused they looked in the face of the truth—loved less the knife pressing under his chin.

"Liar," the chief spat, finally falling away. "I would expect as much from a Yokai."

"Then by that logic you can trust nothing I say," he countered. "Such as me telling you I am not capable of just ghosting away, to come back as a raging revenant later. That if you kill me, you and yours and your great-grandchildren won't be menaced by me bring down all sorts of horrible curses and foul luck for the next hundred and fifty years. It's not like I could destroy you anytime I please."

Should have expected the blow across the face, hard enough to make his nerves tingle—

No…judging by those gasps, that wasn't what that tingling was. Or at least, it wasn't all of it. Hmm, perhaps he could play this.

"Oh I do feel sorry for you now," he said. "Activating that curse mark. I hope you enjoy the sensation of your bones melting—it took an agonizingly long time, the last poor sod that did that."

Ah, bless, that look of terror was fun to see—and the fact that the supposedly hardened guard fled screaming. Eye the now shaken chief….

"You seem to forget one crucial thing," he told the man, snarling grin making his bruised cheekbone ache. "I'm not trapped on this island with you.

"You're trapped here with me."