Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Flight was pain.

Every downthrust of his wings was wrong, every upward pull awkward, every turn agonizing. The joints in his wings throbbed fiercely with every waking moment, and on the rare occasion he could sleep, his dreams were addled by the continued discomfort.

Or maybe his dreams were addled by the stress of fleeing an inescapable, sadistic enemy every waking moment. Nightmares were a constant fact of his life, but they had not been so thoroughly disturbing before-

A lazy strike of lightning crackled in the bright sky to his left, and he tortured himself by dipping to the right. It was an incompetent, failed, slow movement, barely enough to dodge anything at all, and had the shot been aimed at him, he would have been struck.

His body quivered in the air, and he had a hard time convincing himself that the next agonizing flap, the next near miss, was worth it.

As always, during these last few weeks when his motivation began to fade, he remembered how he had reached this point. They were playing with him now, but it had not begun as a sadistic game. It had begun well, and he could still escape.

Even if that meant suffering, fleeing, letting them think they were winning, and seeking a victory he knew was not possible.

He suddenly realized that he had dropped lower while he deliberated, a more effective evasive maneuver than any intentional one he had made in the last few days, and throwing his wings out to resume his flight was torture, but he did it anyway.

There was a dark storm coming up in front of him, a mass of clouds and rain over land of some sort. He drew near to the edge of it all, dark-tinted clouds looming in his vision, and plunged into them without a second thought, though he more than suspected that his pursuers would use this storm to end the chase. It was the first storm they had come across in the long hunt, and they had begun herding him to it the moment they noticed its existence.

This chase was going to end in some way. He could not continue on as he had, not forever, and however much the Skrill might be willing to let him flee, to let him hope, they were not going to give up. They never gave up, it wasn't their nature, and while these particular Skrill were-

A loud blast of thunder in the distance made him jolt. He wasn't used to hearing lightning coming. That was not how Skrill worked, and he had not seen or felt a storm in years. He flapped his imperfect wings harder, flew higher, and forced himself to dive into the depths of the storm, the place where they would have an even more overwhelming advantage.

His only advantage was that he knew his pursuers, knew them well, and he knew what they needed, what they wanted. How those two things did not match up, how that twisted them. The twisting was the only reason he had not been struck dead long, long ago.

He flew into a draft of warm air, and his body convulsed. It had been so long since he felt warm, and being on the run had not given him any reprieve. The world was cold, and he often slept in or near bodies of water, for safety.

The draft of warm air was being forced down by the turbulent winds, and he followed it. Lightning was beginning to flicker without thunder, the Skrill had entered the storm, the chase was almost over…

A scattered web of lightning flashed in the sky far above him, and the constant light illuminated an island below. There were mountains and unnatural structures, devoid of movement aside from the illusions created by constantly moving sources of light.

He recognized the structures, though it had been a long time. Humans lived here, or had once lived here.

He had no hope to spare for them, needing every bit of it for himself, but he would still prefer they not be destroyed by the Skrill. He brought death and destruction with him, but it was all focused on him.

Another scatter of lightning flashed below him, and he was driven up, out of the warm air current. Each strike came leisurely, for all that a bolt of lightning was instant no matter what the mood of the creator. The massive web of interlocking strikes continued above, and he saw the work of both Skrill in that.

Time passed, measured only in his grunts of pain at every new maneuver, and his pounding heart. There was no movement below, even as the storm raged, and he knew there would be no intervention.

There was no way out. Lightning hounded him, and he had flown right into their native element. If these were normal Skrill, untwisted, they would have killed him in an instant, and considered that a victory.

But they were not normal, and he did not fear death. They were perpetually starving for a thrill, ravenous to seek his life, but they needed him alive. Death would be a failure for them, but as tempting as it was to accept it just to spite them, it was still a defeat he could not accept. He was not quite ready for the end.

Flight was pain, but it was still life, and more than he'd had in years. He wasn't going to give it up before he was forced to. His body was flagging, inefficient and pained, and that end would come soon enough no matter what he wanted.

He noticed the moment the flashes from above stopped. His heart fluttered like a weak fledgling, and he whirled in the air in an excruciating maneuver that had him whining to himself-

His eyes caught the telltale flickers of a Skrill falling out of the sky, and the hope in his chest bloomed a little more. It was not possible, but it was happening.

The sight brought strength to his wings, and he flew toward one of the mountains, hoping to hide and shelter somewhere. Maybe the remaining Skrill would be struck down or-

A tiny object bloomed in front of him, appearing from nowhere and unraveling into a mesh, and he was ensnared in an instant, his body tangled with his pained wings stuck in useless positions against his sides.

The fall was a familiar one, he had fallen often enough to know the feeling, but the inability to pull himself out of it was new. He barely had time to recognize that this was probably the end he had sought, not even enough to regret everything that had led to this point-

O-O-O

He woke to the rush of waves, a rocking sensation, nausea, and warmth greater than he had felt in years. If it weren't for the nausea, he would have let himself fall back asleep there and then.

But the churning in his stomach could not be denied, and he forced his heavy eyes open long enough to find the lowest point in the cave and heave out the scant contents of his stomach. The spot he had chosen even had a pile of dried plucked grass, a little piece of a forest in this otherwise unnatural place. Something fell off his back as he turned away from that spot, but he didn't have the presence of mind to think about that.

His eyes were blurry, and the warmth all around him, in the air and seeping into his bones, tempted him to sleep. But self-preservation demanded he at least understand why he was not in a Skrill's talons, being carried back to the place he had escaped.

He found himself in a narrow but long cave made of wood, one that rocked rhythmically. It was dark, and the air was still, though there was a chill breeze coming in from somewhere, not enough to make him cold, but enough to renew what would otherwise be a stuffy, uncomfortable atmosphere.

On the ground next to him was a pile of unrecognizable materials, and all around the walls of the wooden cave more strange things were piled, but he was alone, judging by the scent of humans – all males – on every surface. Some of the walls had patches of different textures, and a part of the ceiling had a circular marking on it, but short of using his fire, he had no idea how to leave, or what he would find outside.

He also had absolutely no desire to correct that lack of knowledge. The warmth and lack of danger were far too tempting to spoil, and he had spent long enough in small, confined spaces that he considered this one luxurious.

He crawled away from his bile, lay atop the tangled mess of odd-smelling, soft material, and let himself drift back into slumber, unconcerned with the many, many unanswered questions he had.

O-O-O

A commotion roused him from his sleep, and he opened his eyes to find a small, decidedly human face staring back at him.

The human pulled back, chittering like a squirrel and honking like a goose as his kind often did, and draped one of the materials he had found over him, covering his scales and back. He noticed that the smell of his bile from earlier was gone, replaced with the smell of fish… and with the scent of the sea. There was a hole in the ceiling, and he could see a partly cloudy sky outside.

Not that he was enough of a fool to venture out into the open. He tucked his chin down on top of the edge of the warm, heat-trapping extra skin he had been granted and made no move to stand. His new captors would get no resistance from him; this sort of privilege was enough to keep him here forever of his own will, if only they would not force him back out into the sky to be hunted down once more.

O-O-O

Life with his new captors settled into a pattern that he was hard-pressed to see as captivity, even in his most pessimistic moments. They brought food and water, regularly removed his waste, and always left a hole in the ceiling when it was nice out, leaving him a path out if he wanted it. The world rocked, and he suspected that he was inside a floating chunk of wood like the ones he had seen long ago. He never left the chamber he had woken up in, not even to stand in the open air for a moment.

Most of his time was spent sleeping, causing the days and nights to pass quickly. When not sleeping, he was daydreaming, or panting in fear and trying to forget the nightmares, or fighting off waves of crippling guilt.

It was a slow, boring life, even by comparison to what he had endured before the long chase, but he accepted it with ease. It kept him away from the sky, kept him out of the reach of the Skrill. No Skrill would ever think to check a random human vessel, and he had flown for weeks to get this far away, so the humans would not bring him anywhere near where he had fled.

Then, one day, while some humans were chittering and honking above, he heard a voice of another dragon in his mind. Judging by the timber of the mental voice, it was a young male, and unlike the Skrill, it wasn't dripping with hatred and promising death. He could not help but listen, though the male above in the open was not speaking to him at all, and he could not hear the other half of the conversation.

'What brings you all the way out here?' the male asked. 'Is there trouble in your part of the world?'

There was a pause, then another human chittered back at him.

'You what?' the male asked.

Another pause ensured, this one much longer. He heard humans chattering above, but they were always talking to each other. One of them seemed to consistently interrupt the dragon whose voice he heard in his mind, but that never seemed to interrupt either of them.

'Okay, yeah, about that,' the male said. 'We're not missing any Night Furies. Not a one. Everybody is here. So while it's great that you brought him here, I have no idea who he is. You're telling me he sat in the cargo hold the whole way here without once even setting foot outside?'

One of the humans chittered back louder than before, confusion present in its tone. He didn't know what it was saying, they spoke little around him and he slept most of the time anyway.

'It's probably better I find out what's going on from him directly,' the male offered. 'Down here?'

He tensed as he realized that this male was talking about him. He didn't have any time to consider what it all meant in that new context, a presence was already casting a small shadow over the opening in the ceiling-

He shook off the false hides draped over his body and curled up, trembling. This warmth and calm was so nice with his most lenient captors yet. He did not want to be freed. This male was no Skrill, he hadn't heard a single charged growl, but he was someone, and that could mean the hunt would start again.

But the young male dragon did not descend. Instead, a human wearing dark scales on his usual dead hides slowly lowered himself into the wooden cave. The creature seemed unassuming and non-threatening.

The human turned to him, its green eyes reflecting the light from above. As before, its nasal chattering rattled out alongside the dragon's mental voice, and beyond all explanation, it seemed to come from the same position. 'So, what's your story?'

He was not struck dumb by surprise, that was not why he did not answer, though he was immensely surprised and confused. The real reason for him not speaking was simpler, and far more deeply rooted. He shook his head in wordless denial.

'I know you can talk, friend,' the dragon's voice declared from the human's body. The human was also spewing out their usual assortment of noises, as if it was related, connected somehow. 'And I know you hear me. I mean absolutely no harm.' He spread his puny little limbs wide, as if to emphasize his declaration.

Another shake of the head, more vehement, was all the human with a dragon's voice got in return. It was not a question of wanting to speak, though it had been in the beginning. Speaking always hurt, and he did not want to hurt. Speaking had caused all of his worst problems and mistakes in the distant past, and he had learned that it was better to live without it. In fact, it had been so long since he had endured the pain of speaking that he wasn't sure that he could if he wanted to, which he certainly did not.

'Okay,' the young male said kindly, 'You don't have to speak. Just let me know you do hear me.'

That he could do, so he did, nodding his head rapidly. Denying his captors their requests also led to hurt. It was always better to please them.

'Good, we're getting somewhere,' the male said. 'You know you're totally free to leave, right? They were never keeping you in this hold, and they say you can fly.'

He nodded again. He understood that, he just did not want to go anywhere. This was the best he had experienced in a long time, and it kept him from the Skrill, who would never stop hunting.

'Honestly, I have no clue what's going on with you,' the male admitted, seemingly at a loss. 'Do you know where you are, or why they brought you here?'

He shook his head.

'Do you know why they did not treat you like most humans treat all dragons they shoot down?' the young male pressed, now even more confused.

He thought about it for a moment, but his answer ended up being yet another wordless denial.

'So you were shot down, put in a ship, told you could leave but didn't have to, with absolutely no idea what was going on or where you were going, and you chose to stay there and not seek out answers,' the young male summarized. 'And you can't tell me anything.'

He was glad that all of that had been understood. The sooner this strange human understood and left, the sooner he could go back to the boring, safe life he had led in this wooden cave.

'Where do I even start?' the human asked. 'I guess getting Eldurhjarta to check you out would be the first thing. Come on up, we can walk to her if you don't want to fly.'

He replied with a shake of his head and a plaintive whine. He didn't want to go anywhere. It wasn't safe outside.

'Look, you have to at least leave this ship,' the young male reasoned. 'They brought you here because they felt bad for shooting you down and thought you were one of us, but they can't keep you in their ship forever. Nobody is going to hurt you… Or ask too many questions, if you don't want to answer. Just let us get you somewhere you can stay as long as you want.'

He didn't want to go, not at all, but he knew that refusing his captor's instructions always led to more pain than it was worth. If his kind human captors were done with him, there was nothing he could do about it. He rose, shook off the hides that had kept him warmer than necessary, and nodded to the exit.

'Okay, sure,' the young male muttered, turning and climbing out, its two clunky hind paws thumping down on ridges of wood made for the purpose.

The light of the noon sun was blinding, and he kept his eyes partially closed as he followed the human out onto the top of the wooden cave. The human led him to the side, and then down a ramp, and soon he felt sand under his paws.

Being out under the open sky was more than mildly upsetting, and he forced his eyes open to search the blinding skies for signs of a thunderstorm, of his doom coming to him once more now that he had left the safety of his human captors.

Nothing. Aside from a few puffy white clouds, the sky was a clear, bright blue.

'Welcome to the Isle of Night, I guess,' the human said. 'My name is Svarturflugmaður. What do you want to be called?'

He looked away from the skies, back toward the island itself, and was treated to a sight even more terrifying than the open air. Two Night Furies flew above a mountain and a lush, tangled forest, totally out in the open.

'Yeah, there are a lot of us around here,' Svarturflugmaður said, following his gaze but not understanding or even noticing his silent horror. 'We've got four entire families. This is a safe place, whatever else has happened to you.'

He wanted to cry out in fear, to urge them to disperse, to fly out and drive those two fellow Night Furies down into the forest, at the very least… But it would do nothing. He himself had not understood the true danger until it was far too late, despite being warned. And maybe he was wrong.

Torn between hoping for peace and dreading destruction, he turned to the easier question. His name.

He had one, it was not even a complex one, and he could maybe convey it if he was clever. His new captor, Svarturflugmaður, wanted it, which was confusing because speaking was punished, but his captor wanted him to speak, and denying his captor's wishes was punished… And he didn't think he could speak if he wanted to.

Instead of answering, he walked to the treeline, only a short distance away, and huddled in the shade.

'That can wait,' Svarturflugmaður said, sounding concerned. 'Let's get you to Eldurhjarta.'

He felt like screeching in horror, now seeing that name for what it was, probably yet another Fury. Four families, probably young ones, children, mates, friends… All here, all in the open, all oblivious.

He quaked with fear as he slinked after the human deeper into the forest, for once fearing for someone besides himself or his son. These people had no idea just how horribly wrong their lives could go at any instant, with the arrival of the next storm or with random bad luck.

So wrong, so very, very wrong… he thought of his name and how it was just as wrong, had been proven wrong by the Skrill and their master and all that had happened.

Sterkureinn knew his name meant 'Strong one,' but he had not felt strong in a very, very long time. That same lack of strength led him now to doubt, to hope, to follow meekly and keep the silence he no longer knew how to break.

Maybe he was wrong. He was weak, but this group, these families, this pack might be strong. Maybe he would be safe. But it certainly did not feel like it, and if he was indeed safe, he would only feel worse about it.

After all, he had left his son behind and did not intend to go back for him, no matter how many allies or powers he had arrayed on his side. He was weak, not strong, and he knew it all too well. Too weak to go back, too weak to speak up and let these people know how wrong they were to fly openly, too weak to stand in the open without fear.

Too weak to flee and never look back on this miraculous place, even though he knew he was hunted and would inevitably bring destruction upon these people too if he stayed.

Maybe.

O-O-O

Author's Note : Thus begins the third book in this series, in a manner parallel to the last (yes, that's intentional, and no, the stories are not going to follow anywhere near the same paths past this surprisingly similar opening). I feel it may be prudent to note a few things:

This story will update once every two weeks for the time being, as I didn't manage to build up quite enough of a backlog to feel comfortable with a weekly schedule. That may change in the future, or it might not. No promises there, except for the same promise I always give; come what may, this story will be finished.

On another note, as everyone has undoubtedly noticed by now, I've swapped to a different kind of scene break. I'm not going to make this a retroactive change (unless I get bored and want a half-dozen mindless hours of combing through and updating every single chapter 3 times), but it's a necessary one going forward; the normal line breaks used in the past two books don't play well with… well, anything really. I've learned the hard way that using text line breaks just works better from the technical side of things, as well as allowing for a little more customization on my part.

Also, as an aside to a few particular readers. I  really  rewrote this whole thing, plot included, so any guarantees I might have made about it in the past, or any cryptic hints (again, you know who you are) may no longer apply. It doesn't cover the same time span, main characters have been shuffled, a pairing has been removed from existence, the fates of several characters were entirely reworked, some deaths were added and some were averted, a couple of maimings were avoided… Obviously, none of that means anything, because nobody has seen the first draft, but I'm making a point. Everything changed, aside from me using the same general themes and ideas, the things that made this a story worth telling in the first place.

Following from a few of the things I just mentioned above, I feel it might be prudent to say here that this story is a little darker than the last one (as if this prologue wasn't enough to indicate that, though I'd caution you against immediately believing Sterkureinn's opinions on anything over what we've seen previously, given he's the furthest thing from an impartial source of information). Not exceeding a T rating, certainly not going into the graphic or soul-crushing detail of  Usurpation of the Darkness  or probably even  When Nothing Remains , but a noted increase. The premise kind of requires it in order to not feel irreverently lighthearted and unrealistic, and I've said too much…

Anyway, here it goes.  Living Freely  has begun. As always, predictions as to what comes next are entirely welcome, and I'm sure  some  of you will make leaps of intuition and guess far too much from this chapter alone. I welcome that, and it's theoretically possible to predict multiple major new elements of this story from this chapter alone.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Maour was feeling a strong sense of deja vu. He didn't remember ever walking a badly traumatized, heavily scarred Night Fury through the woods at night, but it felt familiar. The obvious similarity made no sense upon closer inspection; Togi might count as traumatized and heavily scarred, but they had always met up without travelling together, and Togi was not the type to do anything meekly. The two couldn't have been less alike.

The Night Fury skulking behind Maour, hugging the trees and shadows, was as subdued as most Myrkurs were rebellious, and he had no clue why that was, besides the obvious guesses provoked by the many scars. It didn't help that the one thing this Fury wouldn't do was speak, though he did everything else asked of him without the slightest complaint.

Across the stretch of forest between himself and Toothless, through a mental link that bridged their senses, Maour heard Toothless speaking to thin air knowing that his rider was listening through his ears. 'I told mom, she went to alert the Eldurs, Von is going to the Nótts, and I am stuck telling the Myrkurs,' Toothless sighed. 'At least this time we do not have to worry about the guard assaulting the rescued prisoner.'

"What?" Maour murmured, speaking softly. He had not told their mysterious guest about Toothless, and didn't intend to. Heather was always so adamant about keeping things quiet until one knew exactly what was going on, just in case, and he wanted to be able to say that he had played it smart when she inevitably asked for all the details. If she wasn't out on patrol with Einfari, she would probably have come straight to him upon hearing the news.

'You know, Einfari and Heather?' Toothless mentally snorted. 'This reminds me of then, but with less fighting and a less dramatic rescue. Aldir and his tribe got all the fun this time around, and hopefully all the attention. We don't need another war.'

"I was wondering why this felt familiar," Maour murmured. That was it; this was all a lot like how Heather had come to the Isle, an escapee from a powerful captor. Thankfully, as Toothless had pointed out, this case didn't put a target on their backs, or if it did, said target was already there anyway.

'Where is he?' Toothless asked, accessing Maour's sense of sight. He saw nothing, of course, just the dense foliage Maour was walking through.

Maour glanced over his shoulder in answer. Their mystery guest was still following silently, his head down and his tail all but dragging on the ground. He was a gruesome sight, covered in spidery grey scars, and his demeanor made it all seem worse, more serious, than it probably was. He walked like he was broken, not even looking up at Maour.

'I am telling the Nótts that you let an unknown dragon walk behind you,' Toothless said impishly. 'You deserve to be chewed out for that.'

"You're just mad Skarpur got on your tail for sleeping on the beach in broad daylight," Maour chuckled, ignoring the threat, though it was a valid one. Heather, Togi, or any of the Nótts would chastise him for taking what they might view as a risk.

They weren't here, and didn't feel the submissiveness practically radiating off of the Night Fury he was turning his back on. They also didn't know that he had been picking harder paths through the forest in case he needed to flee a sudden attack, or that he had a bit of extra protection on his back for entirely unrelated reasons… But those weren't good enough excuses to save him if Toothless followed through.

'We have patrols, why do I have to be on guard when I am not on patrol?' Toothless asked rhetorically. 'It is not as if a ship can approach the Isle without us noticing, and nowadays it is no big secret who lives here.'

"It's just good security," Maour quipped. The mountain came into view through the foliage as he neared the edge of the forest, with the entrance to the Eldur family caverns ahead. He hoped Cloey had let them know about the incoming patient by now.

A questioning grunt from behind him caught his attention, and he looked back to see the mystery Fury looking up meekly.

"Just talking to myself," he said neutrally, slightly creeped out by the large, scarred male's continued attitude toward him and apparently the rest of the world. To hide in the depths of a ship for two whole months without ever even stepping out into open air, even when it was literally within sight, just felt wrong. He would never be willing or able to do that, and he didn't have wings like dragons did.

Not real wings, anyway. The slim new prototype on his back and down his sides was his latest step toward blurring the line on that front. He fiddled with the small leather loops hanging out from his hips and idly wondered whether they could be done away with. They weren't big, just large enough to slip his hands into, but they did sort of ruin his sleek, aerodynamic profile.

A loud screeching sound jolted him out of his thoughts, and he reflexively covered his ears. It continued for a long moment, lingering at just the right tones to bother every dragon within earshot, and then abruptly stopped.

Maour knew what it was; everyone on the island did. The twins had gotten their hands on a set of novelty horns, much to everyone else's dismay. Hopefully, the abrupt end meant someone had caught them and broken the one they were using.

He looked over his shoulder and saw that the silent Night Fury was unaffected by the noise. It almost looked as if he hadn't heard it at all…

A thought occurred to Maour, and as he continued looking over his shoulder, he snapped his fingers, taking care to do so out of the Night Fury's line of sight.

A subtle twitch of the dragon's ears disproved his half-baked theory. This newcomer was not deaf. He was just apathetic to the point where strange, downright discomforting sounds on an unfamiliar island weren't enough to bother him.

Maour was glad to catch sight of the Eldur cave entrance up ahead; he was feeling out of his depth with this particular mystery. He led the orange-eyed Night Fury right up to the entrance and stopped there.

"Anyone home?" he called out. Now that Vartha was old enough, it was no longer a possibly lethal mistake to trespass on Eldur territory, but he would rather be polite. He was a little surprised Eldurhjarta wasn't waiting at the entrance-

Said Night Fury barreled out of the cave, slipping around the last turn with a grunt, and leaped out into the open, startling him. 'Right here!' she barked. 'Where is the patient?'

"Right here," Maour dryly replied, gesturing behind himself, where the other Night Fury waited patiently.

I see.' Eldurhjarta brushed past him, her eyes going wide as she took in the male Night Fury's bedraggled, submissive appearance. 'Okay. Name?'

The male nodded, but said nothing.

Eldurhjarta walked closer, her eyes narrowing. 'Has he been mute this whole time?' she asked.

"Yes," Maour answered. "Did Toothless tell you how he got here?"

'Our human allies shot him down during a Skrill attack and brought him by ship, yes,' Eldurhjarta said absently, her eyes on her patient. 'Yes and no questions, then. Lift your head, I want to see your throat.' The patient complied with a worried whine.

"Does that matter, with how you guys speak?" Maour asked curiously.

'Not in the same ways as for humans, but I am not just looking for that,' Eldurhjarta rumbled. She leaned in and put a paw on the male's chest. 'Inhale.'

The male breathed in and held it. His chest twitched as Eldurhjarta pushed forward, but did not give. 'Good,' she murmured. 'Out. Maour, you can go if you want. This is going to take a while, and I will want him to stay overnight, to observe his sleep patterns. With this many lightning scars, I am worried about his heart.'

"He made it just fine for the months it took to get here," Maour offered.

Eldurhjarta turned around long enough to cast him an unimpressed look. 'He is in my care now. I will not just assume it is fine. Especially not when he is covered in scars, cannot speak for some reason, and has obviously had his wings broken twice, the first time badly set to top it all off!'

"Twice?" Maour had noticed the distinctive scar bands at the midsection of both wings, but he hadn't come to that conclusion.

'Twice, and if he were a human, he would be crippled for life,' she replied. She walked around to the male's hindquarters and put both paws on his back. 'Breath in again, and hold it,' she ordered. 'Luckily, we heal breaks far more quickly and thoroughly. As it is, he probably cannot fly without pain, because the second break did not heal quite right either.'

The male nodded, agreeing with her assessment even as he breathed in again. His demeanor had not changed, but Maour thought he might be a little more relaxed now. It was hard to tell.

"You know better than I do," Maour admitted. "Your family will host him?"

'Obviously,' Eldurhjarta snorted. 'I want him for observation, and then everyone else will have questions for him. Arrange the occasional visitor to give us breaks, and we won't have any problems with him staying.' She patted one of her paws on the male's back condescendingly. 'You will not give us any trouble.'

The male shook his head vehemently, showing more urgency than ever before, and Maour was both relieved and unsettled. He was once again glad the Eldurs were on top of this; something was twisted here, and he wouldn't have felt good leaving the dragon unattended or ignored. The Eldurs would provide healing and scrutiny, more so because Vartha would be around. They had it handled.

'Come back in a week,' Eldurhjarta suggested. 'By then, I will have a full understanding of what is going on here.' She flicked a wing to gesture at the male.

"Will do." He made to leave-

'And smash that stupid thing on your back,' she added scathingly. 'I saw your last test, and I am not going to be happy if I have to put you back together after a crash.'

"There was an equipment failure, and you'll be happy to know I was inspired to add additional safety precautions," he said, walking faster. This was not an argument he wanted to get into.

'Why were they not there in the first place?' Eldurhjarta called out as he ducked into the forest proper.

"Because I didn't think about landing," he muttered. It was good the Eldurs were going to be handling the mystery Aldir had passed on to them, because he was very much busy with his own projects.

O-O-O

Toothless bounded through the forest, running as slowly as possibly. Each leap was an exaggerated motion intended to look meaningful while covering almost no ground, and he was not moving in a straight line, even taking into account the many trees forcing a winding path anyway. He made as close to no progress as he could manage without just standing still and waiting.

As he fled, he kept his ears open for sounds of pursuit. His two pursuers were not subtle, and they were not fast, either. He could tell how far away they were by how distant their unique noises were. Little burbling barks, like half-formed chirps but far too enthusiastic, followed in his wake. There were two sets of the odd noises, almost indistinguishable except for when they took slightly different paths toward him.

It was impossible to keep a wide, toothless grin off of his face as he listened to those ridiculously endearing noises closing in. He intentionally walked into a tree, reared back with a paw to his nose, and fell onto his back right next to a small rock that smelled of recent upheaval… and the twins' grubby hands. He had no clue why they had brought a rock into the forest near the Svartur cave entrance, but since his pursuers were fledglings now, he didn't have to worry about running into anyone outside the family, so he didn't care.

He lay there, his paws up in the air and his eyes half closed, and waited patiently. They weren't fast, in any sense of the word. Shaky on their paws and uncoordinated, they had a hard time going anywhere with speed.

A set of paws and tiny claws scrabbled against the far side of the rock. A moment later, there was another enthusiastic little bark, and a small black pair of ears came into view.

Meanwhile, the other source of endearing little chirps made his or her way around the side of the rock, shoving through the bush next to it with little tact and a lot of noise.

Both popped into view at roughly the same time. Fora's pale green eyes and black face came up with her ears, and Vern shoved through the last of the brush, his eyes closed as he used his head as a battering ram.

'Oh no!' Toothless exclaimed, waving his paws around to show just how helpless he was. 'I've been caught!'

His younger siblings leaped at him, plowing into his side and chest with wild abandon. Their small claws were sharp but bearable, and he let them latch on without complaint. They were letting out adorable squeaks and growls as they attempted to pin him down, one clamped onto his foreleg and another with a mouthful of his tail, so Toothless aided them in their task by hauling his limbs up and depositing them on his belly.

They were still developing their mental voice and on occasion got a few words out, but it would be a while before they were stringing them into coherent sentences or using them voluntarily. Three-year-olds didn't tend to do much talking, even if they were no longer hatchlings.

"But you know…" he trailed off, at the same time slowly ramping up a threatening rumble in his chest. Fora looked up, her paws vibrating atop him. Her eyes widened, and she backed away. Vern followed her lead, not quite understanding but still very much ready to trust his sister.

"I am not prey!" He slowly rolled onto his side, shook them off, and pounced, a paw to each of their tails. They both squealed, tried to flee in different directions, and rebounded, their small, dense bodies smacking together. The moment they were properly disoriented, he let go and leaped away, giving them a chance to regroup.

Fora rubbed her head on the ground, growling to herself, while Vern charged, waving his tail in the air and holding his wings out to make himself look bigger. Fora looked up and followed a heartbeat later, making a second small, fierce little bundle of claws and teeth headed his way.

Toothless dug deep for the courage to stand against such an adorable threat and batted at them with slow, grand swipes that looked mostly real. Not entirely; if he made it too convincing, they would whine and flee and think they had made him mad, because they trusted him without reservation and it would never even cross their minds that he might be in the wrong.

'You win!' He proclaimed, leaping up onto a tree. His claws sunk into the bark and the soft wood below, and it leaned under his weight. He hadn't picked the best tree, on second thought, so he leaped to another that was much thicker and stronger. His siblings followed on the ground and scrambled up, their small claws latching onto the bark without any trouble at all. They weren't quick, but they climbed as fast as they walked.

He leaped off again the moment they were high enough, then laughed to himself as they stopped climbing. Their large eyes widened, and they began to slowly, carefully try to climb back down. They couldn't even glide yet, so it was either that or falling-

The instant he realized that Vern's back paws were slipping, Toothless leaped forward into the trunk. Two chunks of bark bounced off of his back, and then a heavy fledgling slammed down. Fora barked and dropped intentionally, almost causing Toothless' legs to give out. That was going to leave a bruise.

His little siblings, not ones to let opportunities slip by them, immediately set to work exploiting their position on top of him. Vern gnawed at his ears, while Fora pricked his back with her claws, pulling and tugging at his scales in a way that would have been painful if she was much stronger.

He let himself collapse, giving them their victory. They were fun to play with… Though he would enjoy it even more once they were old enough to actually challenge him in some way. That was years away, though; they weren't going to be going on any real adventures for a long while yet. But when they did, it seemed likely they would be together, relying on each other like they always did.

Toothless didn't consider himself an expert on instinctively trusting people. He had grown up in a hellish landscape of hot rocks and yellow fog, and seen nobody but his mother for those first few years. He didn't really know what it was like to trust other people in the instinctive way hatchlings of his kind did. Cloey, yes, but nobody else, not like that.

And nobody knew what Fora and Vern had, growing up together. That trust extended to each other, without any age gap where one might assume authority. So far, all it seemed to mean was that they worked together no matter what was going on, but they were flying new skies with every day, going where nobody else in the pack had gone before, not even him and Maour. He had met Maour well after they both were young adults, and so their trust was not instinctive, it was learned.

He almost asked Maour about it; his brother probably had some interesting insight into all of this, being human and thus having an outsider's perspective of how Night Fury instincts affected them. But he wasn't contacting Maour for a reason; it was that day of the week, and his brother wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted or spied upon.

O-O-O

Maour walked into his open-air forge and workshop, and as always, the sight of his many projects filled him with anticipation. Even now, when he didn't plan to actually work on any of them.

"So, what's new this week?" Heather asked, trailing behind him. She lingered at the most obvious works in progress, looking but not touching. "This looks dangerous."

Maour glanced back at the serrated blade she was looking at, mentally placing it. "That's for cutting wood," he explained. "It's not a weapon, but yes, it's dangerous."

"You could make it one," Heather suggested. "Make some smaller blades, build something to shoot them out of a gauntlet. I'd like one of those for our sparring matches."

"That's one for the list," he said, liking the idea, if not the image of her firing it at him while they sparred. It was a little too unavoidably lethal for his tastes, good for killing or severely injuring and little else, but the concept was good, and promised to make an interesting challenge. More so if he could figure out an alternative projectile for it.

"That list?" Heather asked, pointing to the long parchment pinned up against the back of a free-standing table.

"No, that one has all the materials I need," he said. "Stuff I have to pick up next time Toothless and I go out to Mahelmetan." As well as a few items the Thorstons had bribed him to pick up for them, but he was supposed to be keeping that little fact a secret.

He pushed aside a rock and picked up the pile of parchment it was weighing down, shuffling through the various drawings and designs until he had the one he was looking for. "This list," he said, slapping it down on the bench and grabbing a charcoal pencil.

"That's a lot of stuff," Heather observed, leaning in to look over his shoulder as he added her idea to the end. "Fire blade, a new saddle with special leather… an automatic tailfin."

"It's outdated," Maour admitted. "I need a steady source of Monstrous Nightmare gel to find out whether or not the fire blade will work at all, and there aren't any around." He could feel Heather's breath on his shoulder and neck, and he didn't mind at all.

"Einfari and I haven't seen any around, either," Heather agreed. "But we don't explore like you two do sometimes."

"They seem to like living alone, which makes it harder," he said. "Want to see some of the things I am working on?"

"Will they be any different from last month?" Heather asked with a laugh, standing back as he moved to another bench.

"Totally, last month I was tweaking the flight suit." He looked over at her, his hands on the intricate metal gears of a half-finished winch. "You sure you don't want one?"

"Make me one that can save me from going 'splat' when I hit the ground, and maybe I will," she said. "But as it is, I still think having a flight suit will just make me more likely to let myself get knocked out of the saddle. It's a false sense of security."

"Agree to disagree," Maour said amiably. "Now, here we have a thing that fires ropes." He pulled a bulky chunk of iron out of the pile and untangled the trailing rope from it, laying the contraption on another bench.

"Do you plan to put it on a dragon?" she asked, eyeing it dubiously. "Because Toothless already carries enough weight. It could slow him down."

"No, this is an oversized prototype. I couldn't figure out how to make it smaller, so I just built a big one to see if it functions." He still didn't know how he was going to miniaturize it to a usable size without also using smaller, less reliable ropes, but that was all part of the challenge. It would only be useful in edge cases even if he could make it small enough, so it wasn't like he was desperate to find a solution.

"So you want to make it smaller…" Heather tapped her forearm against the bench. "Fire from the wrist?"

"Yup!" He put it aside and pulled another thing out. "And I know you remember this…"

"You still haven't finished that?" She took the roll of canvas from him, shaking it out to reveal a half-dozen small designs, all variations on the same theme. A Night Fury's face, black paint on a grey background. Each one was subtly different in shape and expression.

"I can't decide whether it would be better to have a happier expression," he pointed to the three faces on the left, "or a more intimidating one." He pat the angriest of the three images on the right side of the canvas. "And neither can Toothless. Togi isn't sure either. It's a big deal, designing a flag for our island and pack."

"And you've still got to build the flagpole once you're done with that," Heather said dryly.

"That too," he agreed. He had vague plans of creating a metal rod and embedding it in the flat top of the mountain for such a purpose, but that was going to involve a lot of getting permission and checking opinions first, and he didn't know how he was going to get the flagpole securely in the rock yet, so he had been putting it off.

"Anything else new?" she asked. "Anything I can help you with?"

Maour glanced across his workspace, checking for new things. "Nothing interesting," he said. "A few more spyglasses to trade, but that's not new."

"Can we make something from your list, then?" she requested. "I cleared my schedule with Einfari for tonight, and I want to do something with my hands before spending all day sitting in the saddle tomorrow."

Maour brought out the list of future ideas again. "Sure. Take your pick."

Heather spent little time actually choosing; her finger stabbed a short line near the bottom almost immediately. "This one. How come this isn't your top priority?"

Maour looked at the scribble she had chosen, deciphering his own cramped handwriting. "Automatic tailfin," he read, and immediately a familiar sense of frustration came over him. "That one is because I can't figure out how to do it."

"Go on," Heather requested. "Why not? I assume it's supposed to get Toothless flying on his own?"

"Yes, that's the problem," Maour admitted. "I could make something that mirrors his good fin easily enough, but it would be worthless for actually flying. He could glide forward, but that's about it, and he can already do that with the current tailfin."

"The fins move separately," Heather agreed. She would know. Any of the riders would know; they all had the connection to their dragons that allowed them to, among other things, feel every muscle moving at any given moment. "And there's nothing left to hook on to?"

"Not without cutting into his tail and hoping that didn't cause a thousand more problems," Maour said. He had thought of that already. "And there are too many different positions to make something that reads his other tailfin and positions itself differently, if I could even make something like that at all." It was an impossible problem, and thus it was at the bottom of the list, waiting for a breakthrough.

"That is definitely a problem," Heather agreed. "What's stopping you from letting him control it with his paws, or something?" She seemed to be genuinely expecting an answer, some technical difficulty with that, one she hadn't foreseen…

"What?" he asked.

"You know, you use a pedal," Heather elaborated. "Just put it under his paw and let him do the work himself. Don't make something new, give him the controls to the old thing."

Maour dropped the charcoal pencil he had been holding. A moment of perfect stillness passed, broken only by it bouncing off the desk and hitting the ground.

"I cannot believe how stupid I am," he said slowly.

"So that would work?" Heather asked.

"Eight years." He could barely even remember all of the time he had spent thinking about this seemingly impossible problem over that time. One of his first conversations with Cloey had included him promising to try and get Toothless back into the air, and he had been throwing his mind at the problem on and off ever since. "I didn't think of that for eight years."

"Because it's not what you were trying to make," Heather said pragmatically. "It's not an automatic tailfin, it's a hand-operated one. Paw-operated. It doesn't do what you were trying to make it do, it won't move on its own."

"Well… yes," he conceded, feeling slightly better. "And it won't be as good as me operating the tailfin. I can tap into his every unconscious muscle twitch, but he probably can't, not in the same way." There would probably be a delay between Toothless twitching his tailfin and reacting with his paw, it would be unwieldy and take a while to learn to any helpful degree…

But it would work. A huge smile shoved its way onto his face despite his lingering guilt, and he spontaneously reached forward to pull Heather into a hug. "Thank you!"

"It was just an idea," Heather said, hugging him back without any hesitation. "Think I could help make it?"

"Of course!" A thought struck him, and he laughed. "Definitely, because I want this to be a surprise. Toothless can't know, so he can't help me make the first one." He would definitely involve his brother in the inevitable second iteration and onward, but he wanted the initial reveal to be a total surprise.

"Then what are we waiting for?" She squeezed him once more and pulled away, in the process reminding him that he had been holding her close for what was probably an awkwardly long time…

He smiled awkwardly and turned away, his heart light for more than one reason, and shoved a collection of iron bits and bobs off to the side, pulling a blank parchment down. "Let's get to work."

O-O-O

Von woke to the sound of muffled laughter in her ears. The moon was shining brightly, illuminating a patch of hard-packed dirt nearby, and she recalled that she had snuck off to Maour's workshop to take a nap away from even the possibility of loud fledglings interrupting her. They weren't allowed here, due to all of the sharp things Maour hoarded, made, and broke on a regular basis.

She yawned quietly, perking her ears to better hear the noises that had woken her. Human voices, one nasally and one smooth, though Maour's voice had become less nasally over the years. She didn't know why, but she assumed it was something to do with him growing up. He had gotten taller, too.

The other would be Heather. It had better be Heather, given how much effort she and Einfari had put into ensuring those two spent time together regularly. They seemed to be doing some very slow version of courting now, but she was never entirely sure what that meant.

She poked her head up from behind one of the highest wooden ledges Maour had scattered all across his work area, and saw both Maour and Heather.

As far as she could tell, they were working on something. Heather was tugging one side of a piece of canvas, and Maour had the other pinned to the wood. There were little rods of metal involved too, but aside from poking one into the canvas, they weren't doing much with them.

Both were smiling, and they were close together. Von knew that if she lingered and watched, she might see some casual contact, and Maour might get awkward if anyone brought up mates or anything related to that. Heather's tells, as Einfari called them, were much subtler, but they were there too. The big one was that Heather didn't have any personal interest in making things, but always seemed happy to help Maour with his projects.

She didn't want to interrupt their bonding time, so she slipped out of Maour's workspace, unnoticed by either of the humans using it. The forest was a few leaps away, but she felt like flying, so she took to the air instead. The night was cool and still, and the sky was unmarred by even the faintest of clouds, a perfect, star-studded canvas of distant color.

She flew high in the cloudless sky and tilted to the side, letting herself fall in an arc in exchange for a view like no other. One eye pointed to the sky, and one eye to the ground, a panorama that combined everything she considered home, from the waves and the trees, to the mountain and stars above, and the moon shining brightly amidst them.

It was all beautiful, but as she leveled out and returned to a more reasonable flight pattern, she couldn't help but feel it was a little lonely. Even though there were also a few Night Fury silhouettes in the distance.

She considered seeking out Toothless and by extension her younger siblings, or finding her parents and seeing what they were up to, but in the end, she decided to fall back on her oldest way of alleviating boredom, and flew down toward the Nótt cave entrance.

Einfari was there, lounging in the moonlight in the small clearing in front of the cave entrance. Joy wasn't around, and neither was Nóttreiði. The latter's absence was a disappointment, though she wasn't entirely sure why, given she barely knew him. She just liked seeing him around...

'Joy, I thought I told you to go play with our brother…' Einfari put her paws over her head and hid as Von landed. 'Please, I have to rest for my patrol today.'

'If you need a place to sleep without interruption, I might know of one,' Von offered. Though she had just been woken up there… 'Once Maour and Heather go elsewhere, that is,' she added.

'Oh, Von, it's you,' Einfari huffed, quickly uncovering herself and standing. 'Sorry, Joy has been especially active recently. She wants to be allowed to go on patrols, and I made the mistake of saying she wouldn't be able to handle it without ruining her sleep schedule. She has decided to prove I cannot handle it either.'

'Well, she's at about the right age to be annoying,' Von said sagely. Of course, in her opinion the right age was anywhere between being too small and cute to do anything, and being mature enough to know not to annoy people… So basically between the ages of three and twenty, or forever if one was a Myrkur.

'I pity you,' Einfari said bluntly, standing and shaking her wings out. 'Nine years from now, you will be envying that I only had to deal with one.'

'You can say you told me so when that happens,' Von offered. 'Want to go flying?'

'I should be sleeping, but that isn't working out for me, so sure,' Einfari agreed. 'Just let me warm my wings up first.' She began stretching and beating her wings, a common activity after waking to avoid cramps.

'Maour and Heather?' Einfari abruptly asked, still flapping. 'Good. She is still showing interest in his things?'

'When I left, it sounded like they were starting a project together,' Von volunteered. 'I would say so.'

'See, I know Heather doesn't really enjoy making things with her hands, so that means she is enjoying some other part of such a process.' Einfari purred smugly. 'When will you accept that we succeeded?'

'When they become mates and make it obvious to me,' Von admitted. 'I know Maour, but I don't know human mating rituals. As far as I can see, they are just friends.'

'Friends don't hold hands or politely request that Toothless and I not spy on their regular meet-ups,' Einfari snorted. She crouched and leaped into the sky, and Von followed. They leveled out into a well-traveled circuit around the mountain, one they always flew when the focus was talking more than actually going anywhere.

'But,' Einfari added, looking over at her as they flew, 'my sources tell me Maour is the sort of human to be awkward and slow at this stuff anyway, so it is probably easier for me to see than for you. Heather hides her emotions as well as any of our family, but that's different than not understanding them herself."'

'Your sources? What is this?' This was the first time Von was hearing about any sort of reference Einfari was going off of.

'The twins,' Einfari revealed. 'Way back, under the guise of asking Ruffnut about Tuffnut and the crazy daughter of the female pack's alpha. She was all too happy to give me a rundown of that stuff in as much detail as I wanted, and then some.'

'And you never thought to tell me about this before?' Von asked.

'You were already skittish about the idea of leading them together and seeing what happened, trickery and the sort of thing Ruffnut talked about might have made you not like the idea,' Einfari snorted. 'Now that it has worked and we do not need to do anything, I can tell you about it.'

'Maybe just the important things,' Von requested, suddenly cautious. She didn't really like Ruffnut, or even know her all that well, but if it was bad enough that Einfari thought she would shy away from having anything to do with it… Her friend did know her well.

'Sure, we have time.' Einfari shook her head and led them onto a different flight path, this one headed out to sea. 'I want some fish if I cannot sleep. I'm going to need my energy later. Anyway, like I said, she told me all about what is considered crossing the line between friends and potential mates. And about what could get someone killed, and-'

'Killed?' Von barked. She hadn't known human mating customs were so dangerous!

'By other humans,' Einfari elaborated. 'It's a tangled mess of rules and things they call "taboo" and things that aren't either but might make the parents mad if they found out. Most of that doesn't apply to Maour and Heather, obviously, so they're in no danger.'

'Why did she tell you about that?' Von asked, relieved beyond words, both because Maour was safe, and because she didn't like the idea of human mating rituals being inherently dangerous. That just seemed wrong.

'Because I asked about Tuffnut and that human girl who left with her pack, so it did apply to them,' Einfari reminded her. 'In their case, it didn't go anywhere because Camicazi is going to be alpha of her pack someday, and the alpha cannot have a mate.'

'So…' Von was curious despite herself, now. 'How does Camicazi exist, then? I thought her Dam was alpha.'

'She has a mate, they just do not act like it,' Einfari elaborated. 'It does not count, sort of. Ruffnut was not entirely clear on that herself. The important part was that the male in that situation is subject to all sorts of rules and not allowed to leave the island, so Tuffnut would only actually court Camicazi if she wasn't the alpha's daughter. Or of that pack at all; it seems to be meant for males who are not so crazy and headstrong.'

'Weird,' Von said.

'Very.' Einfari shook her head. 'We have it so much better here. Even if we do have to go abroad to find males, given the options around here are so terrible. Even the new one, he is older than Myrkurheili and so quiet I would die of boredom. At least, that was what I got from Eldurhjarta when I asked.'

'They're not all terrible,' Von said absently, thinking of Einfari's own brother. He had been terrible, back when he hated Maour and every other human around. Now that he had gotten over that, and mellowed quite a bit in general… It was like he was a new person. One she couldn't seem to get up the courage to approach.

'Fine, Toothless is okay, you've got me there,' Einfari conceded. 'But I still think we wouldn't work out. So terrible for me, and obviously not an option for you.'

'Yes,' Von agreed, carefully hiding her confusion over Nóttreiði. It was a stupid thing, and she definitely wasn't going to confide in her best friend. Not when said best friend was at once a manipulator, Nóttreiði's brother, and liable to never let it go if she knew.

'Oh, there's a good group,' Einfari said, looking down. Von was surprised to see they were already way out over the ocean. 'Help me get enough in one go, would you? Then I can tell you about all the things Ruffnut told me that would make Maour blush if you casually mentioned them in conversation…'

'Or I could help you in exchange for not learning those things,' Von offered. She would rather not 'rock the boat' when it came to Maour and his courting of Heather. Not when she was so sure she didn't want her own thoughts on those sorts of things shared or teased.

O-O-O

The forward agent of the Myrkur quartet made her stealthy approach through enemy territory, her eyes locked on the guard.

'Fishlegs is boring, hurry up and get into position,' Boom complained through their mental link from a long distance away.

Ruffnut kept her mouth shut; she was close enough that a snappy retort would be audible to Fishlegs as well as her lazy partner in mischief, and while Fishlegs was mostly oblivious, he was guarding the entrance to the Eldur section of the caverns. It had probably been a mistake to cackle knowingly around him a few days ago.

'Tuffnut reports that he is having trouble getting past the interior guard,' Boom continued, sounding for all the world as if she was bored. 'This would not be happening if we were out there.'

Ruffnut ignored her friend. She was too close now to screw up. Failure was all but inevitable, but she wanted to give it her best shot. For once, they had an interesting target that didn't involve pranking the same people yet again. It was so interesting that Tuffnut had agreed to go in stealthily, without their trademark distraction, just so nobody would suspect anything.

Fishlegs leaned back against the stone side of the cave, his eyes half closed and his book open on his lap. He mumbled something inaudible, likely abandoning his own senses in favor of focusing on Berg's.

Ruffnut smiled toothily and tugged one of her nub-like braids, moving faster through the forest. Fishlegs was way too curious for his own good, and he wouldn't let being put on guard duty stop him from looking in on the very thing she had come to spy on. That did, of course, mean that he had to abandon the use of his own eyes while he watched.

'Looks like eyes, probably half ears,' Boom observed. 'Never nose, so you might still get caught.'

Ruffnut silently snorted at the absurdity of Fishlegs sniffing her out. She told her dragon what she thought of that by holding up a hand right in front of her own face, and turned up her middle finger so that Boom would see it through the link. The Thorston spiting gesture, as they called it, was the most insulting of the many hand signals the quartet had developed to communicate silently.

That done, she stepped out into full view of Fishlegs. When he didn't react, she quickly snuck forward, stepping as silently as possible. He was sitting to one side of the cave entrance, and she was soon right next to him, passing into the dark opening, leaving him none the wiser.

'Tuffnut reports Eldurský and Eldurfjall leaving through the central cave with Vartha. They're talking about taking her to play with Vern and Fora.'

Ruffnut gave her dragon a thumbs-up in her field of vision for a long moment. That left only Berg, Eldurhjarta, and the object of their curiosity and risky incursion into another family's territory. Thankfully, Vartha was past the stage of trusting anyone she met, and thus getting caught here wouldn't end in an overprotective family ripping her limb from limb. She preferred to live through her failures, and sneaking into another family's caves was guaranteed to be one. It wasn't a matter of if she was caught, it was a matter of when, and whether she satisfied her curiosity first.

Ruffnut made her way through the depths of enemy territory, taking care to check around every corner before emerging, lest she walk right into someone. She didn't know these caves, nobody but the Eldurs did. Whatever else happened, this little jaunt into their territory would help the quartet plan future endeavors, though it would never have been worth the risk if scouting was their only objective.

And on that note… She shook her head as she passed yet another clean, tidy side-cave. Where were the piles of rocks, or the stacks of old books, or the ant colony in a mound of dirt that Eldurfjall kept replacing every time his mate got rid of it? Eldurberg was a filthy liar and so was Fishlegs, which was honestly a point in his favor. She liked a man who could lie with a straight face, and she had assumed up until now that he couldn't.

'One tap for every decade,' a familiar dragon said somewhere close by, and Ruffnut instinctively ducked into yet another side cavern. She stepped in something squishy and almost knocked her face on a pile of books reaching all the way to the ceiling.

'Well, there's something,' Boom said loudly, safe in the knowledge that she couldn't be heard by anyone but Ruffnut no matter how noisy she was. 'What was that squelching noise?'

Ruffnut looked down at the neatly decapitated fish lying in front of the stacks of books and parchment paper. "And here I thought Fishlegs was clean and tidy," she murmured so quietly nobody but Boom could possibly hear her.

'You don't want to answer?' Berg said, reminding Ruffnut of why she had ducked for cover in the first place. 'Okay. I understand.'

'They're interrogating the prisoner. Quick, get visuals on him!' Boom hummed.

"You're unusually desperate," Ruffnut whispered as she contemplated her approach. She considered crawling, but that just wasn't something that worked on Night Furies, given how low to the ground their heads were. She would just have to be careful and slow, and entertain herself by taunting Boom. "Is it because he is a male you haven't driven away yet?"

'Yes,' Boom said candidly. 'But mostly because he is a male, and I want to know how best to accuse Eldurhjarta of seducing him. If I can see him, I can see what is most attractive about him, and then use that against her.'

Ruffnut held her tongue, though she would have continued the line of thought in any other situation. She could hear breathing, two sets of large, dragon lungs on the other side of the corner she was about to go around.

'Hmm…' Berg hummed thoughtfully. 'Okay, I have another one. Do you prefer cloudy days or sunny ones? Left paw for cloudy, right for sunny.'

'So much for this being an interrogation,' Boom groused.

There was a muted thump, likely that of a paw on mossy stone, and Ruffnut took the chance of peeking around the corner.

Luckily for her, both Night Furies had their backs to her. The new one might see her if he glanced to his right, but Berg would have to intentionally look behind himself, and neither seemed inclined to do so at the moment.

'That's a nice collection of scars,' Boom said. Ruffnut had the distinct feeling that her friend was nodding in approval. 'He has to have seen some interesting things. But he has got to hold his head higher, that sort of slouch is something I would expect from a fledgling who did something clever and was stupid enough to feel guilty about it when they were caught.'

'Cloudy, huh?' Berg hummed. 'Interesting. Do you prefer caves, or open spaces?'

Ruffnut busied herself with studying the new dragon, since there was absolutely nothing of interest in the basic, stupid questions Berg was asking. Boom was right about his scars; having that many either meant he was really stupid and obstinant, or well-traveled. Given he was tolerating Berg right now, she was going to guess the latter.

'Caves?' Berg tilted his head curiously. 'I wonder… Are you scared of the outside? Of big, open places with a lot of light? You certainly do not wander the island.'

There was a brief pause, and Berg's ears flattened against his head. Ruffnut tensed, wondering if she had been caught. With Night Furies, there was only so much one could do to avoid detection. Berg might have heard her breathing, for all she knew.

"Oh, left for yes, right for no, shake of the head for "hard to answer", sorry," Berg huffed. 'We should agree on a system, but not until we have tested all of the different kinds out… Later. We will do that later.'

The new Fury shook his head solemnly, and Ruffnut contemplated leaving. Maybe, if she was careful and quick, she could actually get away with this little venture-

A large, heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and she knew she had been caught. But she had deniability, so she shrugged it off and turned around with her best 'offended' look. "Quit it!" she hissed.

Fishlegs scowled at her. "You are not supposed to be here," he said.

'Well, that's that,' Boom snorted.

"Yes I am, duh," Ruffnut said, putting her hands on her hips and looking at him as if he had spouted a load of highly offensive gibberish. "Designated Myrkur observer? That ringing a bell?"

"Nobody told me about that," Fishlegs said, glaring right back at her. "And Hjarta is always strict about not bothering patients when they're in her care."

"Well, she's not the one in charge of this pack." Nobody was, and if anyone would send an observer it would be the Nótts, paranoid kill-joys that they were, but enough bravado might see her through where logic failed. "Stop obstructing a pack decree."

"I don't believe any of this," Fishlegs decided. "Someone would have told me or Berg to let you through, and even if the Myrkurs did send an observer, it wouldn't be you."

"Well, let me just go get somebody to tell you how wrong you are," she offered. The moment she was out of the cave, it was his word against the word of her conspirators, and four were more believable than one.

She tried to slip by Fishlegs, but he stepped into a narrow part of the cave and spread his arms wide. His overly muscled, bulky form completely blocked the path.

'Like a fish choking a dragon,' Boom observed. 'Go the other way.'

Ruffnut spun around with a haughty huff-

Only to bump into a similarly unamused Berg, who was right behind her. 'You are not getting away,' he said, reaching forward and clamping his gums on her shoulder. 'Squirm free and I will grab you by the nubs.'

Ruffnut flinched; one of the admitted downsides of her current hairstyle was that it gave people convenient grips on her hair if they chose to use them. She had no desire to repeat the time Blast had dragged her by them. 'Be gentle, and be sure to wash your mouth out the moment you get a chance,' she advised. 'I might have rolled in a waste pit before coming here.'

Berg gagged but held on, arching his back to march her through the larger chamber and toward the center of the cave system. 'You did not,' he huffed. 'You rolled in old fish.'

'Had to cover my scent somehow,' she admitted. They passed by the new Fury, who looked on with the most boring, complacent expression she had ever seen on a dragon. She had never met a more passive creature.

This might, she conceded as she was marched to face the music, not have been worth the inevitable punishment.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Eldurhjarta shuffled her paws nervously. This was not her first time in the central cavern inside the mountain, where the four families would occasionally meet for discussions, but it was her first time flying up to stand on the central pillar to address everyone gathered. The parents from all four families were present, and from the tail-end of the argument she had heard coming in, none of them were in a particularly good mood.

'I was asked to give a report on our visitor?' she said tentatively. 'If you are ready for it?'

'Go on,' Svarturskuggi said with a wave of his wings. 'We are done discussing the Myrkur troublemakers.'

'I will see to it that they regret trespassing in the Eldur caves,' Myrkurhryðjuverk said vehemently. 'And more so that they regret me having to get involved. We know what is acceptably annoying and what will get us in real trouble with our friends, or I do, and they will learn the same.'

'As I said, we have all agreed on that,' Svarturskuggi said. 'Now, Eldurhjarta. Tell us about the mysterious male you have been treating.'

'Leave out no details, even if they make him look bad,' Nóttleiðtogi commanded, his voice hard. 'Your confidentiality when it comes to healing may be admirable, but surely you understand that to hide his flaws may come back to haunt us all later, and harm more than just him.'

'I know that,' Eldurhjarta said, fighting not to speak in a whimper. Nóttleiðtogi had been intimidating before the war, but ever since then he had seemed more… important. His status and role never changed, but her family all agreed that there was a weight to his words that hadn't been there before, possibly a side effect of his apparently dormant ability. Toothless had it too, though with him it was offset by his far more approachable nature-

'Sometime tonight, ideally,' Nóttleiðtogi rumbled.

'I was arranging my thoughts,' Eldurhjarta huffed, falling back on her most reliable excuse for falling into rumination at inappropriate times. 'In a physical sense, our latest visitor is weathered, an older adult, and decidedly frail.'

She took a moment to decide how to word her assessment without giving away any private details, then pressed on. 'As you all have seen by now, he is riddled with scars, the vast majority of which come from lightning. The rest are either teeth marks, claw marks, or some other form of semi-sharp object jabbing in and then pulling through skin and scale. None bear any obvious signs of coming from humans, and as far as I could discern, he does not particularly fear humans.'

'His wings were broken, set improperly, then broken again in almost the same place,' she continued, seeing that nobody was prepared to interject, not even her parents. It was odd to be explaining something without being asked questions; she hoped they were just saving their confusion for the end, so as to be polite. She didn't want to leave anyone confused or ignorant as that would be a waste of her time and theirs. 'They were set a second time, close enough to correctly that he can fly, though with pain. I asked, and he implied that they were only set well enough by chance, not by anyone like me helping him. He has not refused to have them broken for a third time and properly reset, but that seems to be a result of his demeanor, not his true preferences, so I am not intending to make a decision on the subject for the time being.'

'His demeanor?' Nóttskarpur called out.

'Yes. As you all know, having met him during the last few weeks, he is exceedingly timid, made nervous by open spaces, and all but incapable of defying a direct order from anyone.' She shook her head, remembering how hard it had been, and continued to be, to get him to say no to anything. 'The only way to get him to give an opinion is to make very, very clear that it doesn't matter either way, and that you will be making the final decision on whatever it is. He demonstrates a remarkable lack of initiative, and absolutely no will to defy anyone.'

'So he's the most boring creature in existence,' Myrkurljós huffed. 'Yes, that seems right. He barely moved when I met him.'

'You tried to play a game of tail tag with a frail patient of mine,' Eldurhjarta growled, angered by the very memory of that incident. 'That was ill-advised, to say the least.'

'What of his past?' Svarturkló asked.

'That's complicated,' Eldurhjarta sighed. 'He does not speak, which is an issue I still have not gotten to the bottom of, and it is all but impossible to get someone's life story with yes or no questions. We have confirmed that he was fleeing Skrill, and that he fears Skrill above all else. He is worried that we are in danger from Skrill, possibly the same two that chased him to our allies. Beyond that, he shuts down.'

She expected Nóttleiðtogi to object, to say that she was being too kind and coddling her patient instead of seeking answers, but to her surprise he said nothing.

'To sum it up,' she said, not thinking of anything else worth mentioning, 'he is frail, mentally and physically weak, and desperately grateful for the attention and care he is receiving from my family. It's my opinion that he poses no threat at all, though he seems to feel he is endangering us just by being here. We know Skrill, some of our own here have killed them before. So long as we do as we always have and avoid going out during thunderstorms, we have nothing new to worry about. It is not as if his enemies were not already ours too.'

'Well said,' her mother barked supportively. 'Now, I know I was there for much of your time with him, but I have a few questions…'

Eldurhjarta purred thankfully, glad her parents were up to the task of asking for details. 'Ask away.' She doubted any answer she could give would sway the pack's opinion of her patient much, but she fully intended to keep him safe until he was healed enough to speak and stand up for himself, at the very least.

O-O-O

Each day brought more doubt. Clear skies reigned over the warm island paradise Sterkureinn had been brought to, and the Night Furies lived without fear. Night after night, the family hosting him went out, fished, played, explored, and generally existed without fearing the arrival of a storm, without fearing anything at all. They were not foolish, they were careful, but they were not afraid.

He understood their lack of fear, but at the same time he did not. They had not experienced what he had, but he had learned that their friends had encountered Skrill in the past, and that such encounters were always violent. They knew a danger lurked in every storm, but the one time it thundered outside, they considered it an annoyance, not a threat to their very existence.

He had cowered then, fearful and hoping the Skrill would miss him as they razed the island to the ground, but nothing had come of it except pity from his hosts… and many questions he just could not answer, but that was their way in all things.

Sterkureinn could not help but take in their attitude and wonder whether he was too fearful. That the Skrill were hunting him was not in question, but maybe they would never find him again. Maybe the time spent with the humans had made them think he was dead. It was possible he was free and safe, so long as he did not go back…

Even though he should go back. He cringed, hiding from that thought. Maybe it was the right thing to do, maybe it was what a better person would do, but he would suffer if he went back. There would be more pain, more humiliation, and he would fail to save anyone.

'Are you shivering?' the kind female named Eldurhjarta asked, eyeing him as she passed by.

He shook his head mutely, having long since learned that this family was never satisfied with silence. Sad silence, worried silence, confused silence, all of those were accepted and for the most part not pressed, but pure silence without any indication of an answer or emotion would get him nothing but more questions.

'Well, it is a nice night,' she pressed, her pretty voice soothing his fears. It was a no-nonsense voice, one that saw him as needing advice despite his age, but he was not bothered by that. His body, mind, and life were all horrible, damaged husks of their former selves, he did need advice. 'Try taking a walk? I can go with you.'

A walk. The concept still felt foreign, but he knew she was serious. He waved a wing at her, mustering a fragment of pride for the first time in a while. He would walk, and he would do so alone.

'Good,' she praised, purring at him as she spoke. 'Do not push yourself, and try not to fly if it hurts. I am still not sure what we should do about your wings.'

He winced and hurriedly left the main chamber, not liking the idea of anything being done to his admittedly crooked and painful wings. They were flawed, but they worked, and he could not stomach the idea of being flightless for any length of time, even if it would end with him regaining his flight without pain. It wasn't worth it.

But if Eldurhjarta and the others told him he was going to be fixed, he would submit. He would dread it and fear it as a horrible mistake, but resistance was never worth the pain that always resulted. They always gave him the choice to opt out, to not answer or deny or just sit on his rear all day instead of doing things, but that only made him anxious because there was no clear expectation or command to obey.

Sterkureinn set paw outside the Eldur caves timidly, leaning forward to check the sky and forest edge before venturing out. He feared it, not for what it was, but for what it could host. Skrill, the same ones as always, lingered in every dark place and unexpected flash of light, leering, laughing, chasing…

It was a clear night, the forests were dim, and all was well. He did not feel Skrill nearby, his skin was not tingling under his scales. He was safe.

Two Night Furies passed overhead, and he looked up, trying to identify them. He had been introduced to all the occupants of this miraculous island, but most blended together in his mind, an irrelevant mix of traits by family, each hosting a human, or in one case, two that acted as one.

Whoever they were, they were free and happy. He felt a touch of fondness for them, for all of them. They were what he wished he could be, what the rare dream that did not turn into a nightmare cast him as. Normal.

He didn't know how, but they wanted to fix him, and he was not about to defy them in that aim. Perhaps, this time, hope would not be repaid with torture, and that if they were given enough time, they could succeed.

And if they were not given that time, if something took it away from them… He shied away from the thought, slipping beneath a wide-trunked tree and rubbed his face against it to calm himself. The smell of living wood and life was comforting.

A wild thought had crossed his mind, one of courage and defiance. He didn't like it, but it remained in the back of his mind, gnawing at his guilt, old and new alike.

O-O-O

Heather released an arrow and drew another from her quiver in one swift, unbroken movement. It was oddly weighted near the tip, but not enough to throw her off.

What was enough to throw her off was the curved blade coming right for her face. She lurched backward, ducked a second swipe, and stabbed up with the arrow in her hand.

Maour froze and looked down at her, his arms still out with his signature scythe over her head, coming down toward her back and neck. None of that mattered, though. The blunted arrowhead jabbing into his neck was the weapon that had won their little sparring match.

"That's not how you're supposed to use arrows," he complained, backing away and spinning his scythe around to rest at his side, the outside edge of one of the blades pointed at her. He proceeded to take off his helmet and wipe his brow, and she did the same with her own helmet. It was hot and muggy out on this particular night.

"It surprised you. I'm pretty sure surprise is your weapon's biggest advantage. Don't complain when I do the same." She returned the arrow to her quiver and favored him with a smug grin, hoping to annoy him enough to throw him off his game. "Two to zero, now. Playing to five?"

"Seven," he offered. "I need to get some energy out. You know how watching little kids can be exhausting but not at the same time?"

"Sort of," she said, backing up until she was at the edge of their little clearing. It was only ten steps in diameter and roughly square-shaped, making it a great close-quarters arena when they needed semi-reliable footing. Fighting on the beach was good training for… fighting on a beach. Not really for anything else.

"Well, I feel like I'm ready to drop, but not at the same time. Tired in mind, not body." He lunged forward, moving with speed that would have surprised Heather were she not expecting it, and jabbed at her stomach. She stepped back and drew an arrow, but he continued to press the attack.

She let loose a shot not meant to actually hit him, forcing him to dodge to the side, and used the distraction to make space between them. Maour's advantage was his weapon's versatility in close range, and her advantage was that she didn't need to be close to strike him. Fighting him up close was futile on her part, and they both knew it. She needed practice making distance in a relatively small space, and he was providing it.

She ducked as he swiped at her head, rolled to the side, and drew her bow even as he bore down on her, swinging possibly less harshly than he strictly should in a real fight.

She knew he was overly careful about not hurting her in these fights, and that in a real fight he wouldn't hold back, but she still punished him for it. The wooden haft of his scythe was coming down too slowly, so she was able to let go of her bow, hold her arrow in one hand, and grab it with the other, stopping it before he could strike her. Another quick jab with her arrow ended their match, not because it surprised him, but because he hadn't had time to do anything about it.

"Well," he said, leaving his helmet on, "looks like we're going to nine."

"How about we just say we're going until you collapse, or have won the majority?" Heather offered, amused by his insistence. It wasn't an insistence on winning so much as it was on improving. She knew the difference, it was easy to tell with him. He wanted to win, but he wouldn't change the rules midway through to get one. He would push himself to exhaustion to figure out how to beat her, though.

"Deal," Maour agreed. "But don't you have to go flying with Einfari soon?"

"That can wait," Heather said, waving the concern away as she went to retrieve her spent arrows from the ground behind him. Einfari would understand; she was almost suspiciously accommodating of the time Heather spent with Maour. Heather suspected Skarpur or perhaps Cloey had put it into her head that if the human Nótt was going to take a mate, it would probably be the human Svartur, which was true enough, if far off in the future.

For now, though, she was more than content to be dating Maour, and nothing more. Not being pressured to make the next step was a nice feeling, especially since she had grown up expecting to be all but thrown into a marriage by now. Einfari might or might not be rooting for her and Maour to get together, but that was a mostly passive desire; she was too tricky to push hard enough to be annoying.

Heather bent to pick up the last of her arrows, then paused. She grabbed it, flipped it around so that the flat 'arrowhead' was held like the blade of a knife, and wheeled on Maour. "Round three!" she yelled, charging him from behind.

Maour turned and struck out with a free hand, of course; she had expected that, he was too cautious with her safety to blindly swing his scythe around, blades capped by sheaths or not. She grabbed his arm and yanked them together, driving her arrow toward his neck-

Maour dropped his scythe, kicked the back of her leg, and grabbed her wrist as she fell, lowering her to the ground and pulling the arrow out of her hand at the same time. She tried to hook her heel around and pull him down too, but he was far too nimble and just knelt on her midsection instead, planting her own arrow firmly on her chest.

"You gave me that one," he said accusingly.

Heather shook her head in denial, though in truth a close-range attack like that was terrible tactics, even when aided by surprise. She hadn't intentionally thrown the fight.

"One to two," Maour proclaimed, offering a hand. She took it, clasping his wrist and wondering whether a second sneak attack would be doubly foolish or a stroke of genius. He wasn't expecting it now, after all…

O-O-O

'Did you get him?' Einfari asked a short while later.

"She got me good," Maour volunteered from where he sat, slumped against a tree.

"I did well," Heather said, securing her quiver to the back of the saddle. Maour had been kind enough to work in a secure holding mechanism, so that even if Einfari flipped around like a maddragon, her arrows wouldn't go flying out.

"See you tomorrow to work on the project?" Maour asked.

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," she replied.

Einfari took off, taking her away from Maour and the forest, and she sat back to enjoy the wind in her damp hair for a little bit. The breeze was nothing compared to taking a flight to cool off, even when it was hot out. Dragons made their own wind.

'What are you and Maour making?' Einfari asked curiously. 'You can tell me, you know that.'

"Total secrecy must be observed, lest you prove treacherous," Heather quipped. In reality, she was just making sure Maour's request, that nobody know about it until they had shown Toothless, was honored. She wouldn't be the leak, even if the odds that Einfari would tell anyone else were so tiny as to not count.

'I will get it out of you yet,' Einfari vowed. 'I'll get Eldurhjarta to give you something that makes you talk in your sleep.'

"Does she have any of that? If she did, I would think she would use it on their guest, not me." That would, if nothing else, provide proof as to whether the mystery Fury was refusing to talk, or somehow incapable of it.

'We will see…' Einfari wheeled around, and Heather opened her eyes. 'And speaking of seeing, look up at the mountaintop.'

Heather looked, first with her own eyes, and then when that proved insufficient, with Einfari's. She saw a curious sight, made even more so when they drew closer and were able to make out more details.

There were three Night Furies, two humans, and two mounds of pebbles on top of the normally flat mountain. The humans were Thorstons and the Furies Myrkurs, but that didn't help much in determining what they were doing.

'That is Myrkurhryðjuverk,' Einfari observed. 'She does not usually do pranks with her children and the twins.'

"This doesn't look like a prank at all," Heather added. Myrkurhryðjuverk looked stern, if mood could be read from wing position and tail movement. She was observing Blast and Boom while they kicked pebbles with their front paws. Tuffnut and Ruffnut were watching, apparently doing nothing.

'I'm going in to ask Myrkurhryðjuverk what she's doing,' Einfari said, swooping down toward the mountaintop. 'This is too weird to just pass by and pretend we didn't see.'

"No argument here," Heather said.

When they got close, Myrkurhryðjuverk noticed them. 'Land on this side,' she roared out, indicating the open space beside her. Heather assumed Einfari was already planning on landing there, given the only other place to land was between the piles of rocks, and thus in the middle of whatever was going on.

'Would you be open to explaining what's going on up here?' Einfari asked diplomatically, landing where she had been asked. 'Or is it a family secret?'

'No secret, I told all the families I would be making sure boundaries are respected,' Myrkurhryðjuverk said. 'They are serving out one of their punishments for sneaking into the Eldur caves.'

"That's still going on?" Heather asked. She was surprised Myrkurhryðjuverk was still holding them to that; the Nótts had all assumed it would last a week before the lesson was declared to have been learned.

'Yes, mostly because it takes time to think up activities they cannot make fun in some way,' Myrkurhryðjuverk grumbled. 'It is the curse of our family to find enjoyment in the most inane things sometimes.'

"Hey Heather," Ruffnut called out as she passed by, picking a bunch of pebbles much like Blast and Boom had, but in the opposite direction. "Come to witness our shame?"

'Maybe she is here to witness your terrible kicking skills,' Boom commented. 'Come on, get them over here, we do not have all night!'

'You do have all night,' Myrkurhryðjuverk interjected. 'No talking. Think about how much you have annoyed me by breaking rules severe enough that I have to do something about it.'

"Sure, will do," Ruffnut muttered.

'There are two piles,' Myrkurhryðjuverk explained for Heather and Einfari's benefit, looking to the far side of the mountaintop. 'They brought every pebble up separately a few days ago, and now they are shifting all of the dark grey ones into one pile, and all of the light grey ones into another, using only their paws or feet.'

'And this is because… why?' Einfari asked. 'What will you do with them?'

'Another day, I will have them take every pebble down again,' Myrkurhryðjuverk said in a low voice, leaning in conspiratorily. 'It is just to waste their time with boring activities.'

Heather, able to look over Myrkurhryðjuverk and Einfari due to her position on Einfari's back, saw that the twins had stopped kicking and were making faces at each other. Boom and Blast were keeping watch, though when they saw her looking, they just bared their teeth threateningly.

Heather elected not to say anything, specifically so that the next time a Myrkur thought she could be intimidated, she could enjoy slapping that assumption right out of the air. She doubted the not-so-penitent laborers would avoid Myrkurhryðjuverk's watchful gaze for very long anyway.

'Well, have fun with that,' Einfari hummed, pulling away. The twins quickly got back to their pointless work, and by the time Myrkurhryðjuverk turned around, were acting like they had been kicking rocks the whole time.

'Do not think I have not noticed your total lack of progress while I spoke to Einfari,' Myrkurhryðjuverk growled.

Einfari laughed as she dropped off the side of the mountain, letting them fall for a bit before spreading her wings. 'They are going to be moving rocks around this time next year.'

"If Myrkurhryðjuverk doesn't get fed up and give them something worse," Heather chuckled. "I wonder if she'll go to Maour and ask for ropes, or something. They probably wouldn't make as much trouble if all four of them were tied together."

'That is an odd idea, and even odder for it to be your first thought,' Einfari purred sagely. 'The thing you are making with Maour involves ropes and tying things, doesn't it?'

"Not even close," Heather lied. It did actually involve a few cords and little fiddly bits she had tied together, but Einfari didn't need to know that. The first Night Fury to know would be Toothless, not her, and they weren't done with it yet.

O-O-O

Toothless didn't know what Heather and Maour were working on, but he knew they were making something. They weren't even trying to hide that, and he suspected that if he asked, Maour would flat-out tell him it was a secret instead of denying that there was anything to hide.

He walked in a short circle, Fora hanging off his tail, and checked in with Maour again. His brother was working on another model of the tailfin, standard stuff, but Heather was in the background. They weren't saying anything, but he felt like they had stopped talking the moment Maour felt him checking in.

'No, that doesn't work,' he reported. 'Fora is still on my tail.'

"I don't know why you need my advice on this," Maour said lightly. "But if walking around doesn't work, maybe tempt her with fish? This doesn't seem difficult." He didn't sound nearly as confused as he would be if he really thought Toothless wanted advice.

Maour probably knew Toothless knew he was hiding something, and he probably knew that Toothless was checking in with excuses in order to hopefully get a glimpse. But Toothless was certain they were working on it right now… So why hadn't he gotten even a glimpse of anything out of the ordinary? Maour was making a backup tailfin, and there was nothing secret-worthy about that.

He spent a few moments playing with Fora, who was dangling from his tail, but would let go if he shook hard enough, and then checked in on Maour again, hoping to catch him bringing out the real project.

Again, he saw the tailfin, and in the background Heather putting some parchment away. They were cleaning up.

"Didn't work?" Maour asked lightly. "Well, maybe meeting me at the shore to see if what we've been working on will get her to let go."

'Meeting you?' he asked eagerly. If Maour was offering to reveal the secret, then whatever it was, it was finished. Or just a really promising design, but after the exploding water barrels, he thought Maour had learned better than to get too excited before proving something actually worked as intended.

"Yes." Maour laughed brightly, and Toothless' excitement shot up a few notches. He only sounded like that when he was really excited. "Like I said, if you're actually watching Fora, bring her along."

'I will beat you there,' Toothless declared, returning to himself and quickly pulling Fora up onto his back. Vern was with Cloey and Shadow, off getting some quality personal time with his parents in the ongoing effort to ensure the two siblings weren't too used to never being apart.

Fora dug her claws between his scales, and he quickly made his way out into the forest. The shore was not close, it would be a somewhat long walk, but he didn't care in the slightest so long as Fora behaved. The time would fly by, what with the tantalizing mystery Maour was about to put to rest. If he wanted to impress his brother by predicting what would be revealed, he would have to be clever and figure it out before he arrived.

He went through the known projects Maour was working on one by one, dismissing them as possibilities. It wouldn't be a secret if Maour was just finishing something they had thought of and begun together, so it wouldn't be a better flightsuit or an improved scythe or a sleeker saddle, or any of that. It had to be exotic, crazy, something that kept Heather's practical focus while also being interesting enough to keep secret for later.

It had to be something Maour would want to keep secret, which was part of what was stumping Toothless as he worked his way through the hilly forest between him and answers. His brother didn't keep secrets maliciously, not like the Myrkurs were somewhat prone to doing on occasion, so there had to be a legitimate reason. So as to not upset someone, maybe. He had been close-mouthed when it came to making the last-resort slings made for carrying hatchlings around, because it would have bothered Cloey.

Following that path to its conclusion, he had to guess that maybe Maour had kept it from him because he wouldn't like the subject they were experimenting with.

Toothless grunted, ducking a branch and shifting his wings to keep Fora on his back as he moved, his mind half on that and half on the things he wouldn't like Maour doing. Obviously, his brother wasn't delving into anything outright wrong, like killing or enslaving people, or anything terrible like that. But there was one thing Toothless definitely didn't like that wasn't outright wrong, just troubling.

The glow, as they had called it years ago. The power he, Togi, and a Night Fury from the pack's collective past had all used, once and only once that he knew of. The nameless dragon might have used it before, he didn't remember the story well enough to know that for sure, but he knew neither he nor Togi had managed to call it up since first using it in moments of need. If there was anything he wouldn't want to mess around with, it would be that.

But that theory had way too many problems, not the least of which that even if Togi had somehow used it again, and if he was willing to let Heather and Maour do something with it, there was nothing they could do. It was unlimited fire and some sort of Queen-like ability to control the body of the person one was linked to. Neither Heather nor Maour had broken their links, and none of that involved making things in the workshop anyway.

Fora squeaked in delight as a low-hanging branch slapped along his neck right in front of her, and he had to stop as she reared up to grab it with all four paws. 'No, don't do that,' he rumbled, quickly turning around to pluck her out of the air before the branch snapped and let her fall. She took pawfuls of leaves with her, but came quietly.

'But thank you for the distraction,' he hummed, resettling her and continuing on his way, his mood lifting as he dismissed his worries. Maour and Heather were not tinkering with the glow, that wasn't even possible. He could not do anything with it, and he had proven capable of using it in theory. They were making something entirely different.

The sound of the waves close by told him that he was almost out of time for thinking about it, and he concentrated so hard he was squinting at the forest in front of him. What else would Maour keep from him, work on with Heather, and be able to hide extremely quickly? It would have to be something small, or maybe not if Heather was doing all of the work out of his line of sight, but then it would have to be something relatively simple because Heather wasn't experienced in making things.

He leaped out onto the sand and looked around, hoping Maour and Heather weren't there yet, so he would have some more time to think. The shore was empty, an open expanse of silver-white sand bathed in moonlight, every little hill casting a grey shadow. Driftwood lay scattered across the tideline, and Fora leaped off of him before he could stop her, landing on her side on the deceptively firm sand with a heavy thump.

She let out a pained little squawk, and he quickly pat her on the head with his singular tailfin, holding his breath as he acted like nothing happened that was worth making a fuss over and waited for her reaction. It would either be nothing at all - it had been a tiny fall and probably wouldn't even bruise her - or a huge meltdown. The latter was less frequent of an outcome nowadays, but he knew all too well that it could still happen, especially when Vern wasn't around.

Fora let out a big huff of air, blowing sand away from her face, and chuffed nonchalantly as she got to her paws and walked it off. Toothless breathed out a huge sigh of relief and followed her, diligently watching as she dug into the side of a sand dune. She didn't seem at all troubled by the absence of her brother, but that might come later when she was bored, as they tended to turn to each other the moment outside entertainment ceased being interesting.

A few moments later, just as Fora decided to stick her head in the hole she had created before it could fall inward, Maour and Heather arrived. Toothless absently hauled his little sister out of the sand pile before it could collapse on top of her, his eyes on the things they carried. His tailfin and saddle were in Maour's arms, and Heather carried a delicate arrangement of metal wires and a round wooden handle attached to nothing. The purpose of Maour's burdens was obvious, they would be flying somewhere to try out this new thing, but even now, he had no idea what it was.

"You made good time," Maour said casually. "I know it's not easy going anywhere fast with Fora along for the ride."

'Better time than you made with… that.' Toothless watched carefully as Heather passed the contraption, which was still a complete mystery, over to Maour. 'What does it do?'

"Something great," Maour said. "You will have to thank Heather, she figured it out."

"I gave the obvious suggestion, it was no big deal. I'm more proud of helping make it." Heather crouched by Fora and did a passable imitation of a purr. Fora leaped into her lap and arched her back.

'If you keep circling around it without explaining, I am going to start trying to figure it out myself,' he threatened, eyeing the contraption as he spoke. 'Maybe I'll paw at it until something makes sense or breaks… Or I could paw at you until you make sense.'

"Can you stand waiting until we have the saddle on?" Maour asked, setting the contraption aside in favor of the familiar black-dyed leather and tailfin ensemble.

'If I must,' Toothless sighed. He felt like tackling his brother and licking answers out of him, but that would spoil Maour's fun. His brother did have a flair for the dramatic.

Maour was quick about getting the saddle and tailfin on, while Heather kept Fora occupied with vigorous scratching and rubbing. Toothless noticed that Maour was being more thorough in checking everything as he put it on, testing every buckle and running his hands over every strap to check for weaknesses.

Then, everything else done, Maour retrieved the mystery device and began attaching it to the saddle. Toothless craned his neck to watch, still confused and no longer bothering to guess. It turned out to be a set of hooks and clasps that didn't take up much space even untangled, securing to the back of his saddle, near his midsection on both sides. It looped down, parallel to the chest strap, and was hooked firmly in place with the hidden controlling wires that went from the pedal to the tailfin…

By the time he saw the wooden rod for what it really was, hanging within paw's reach from his stomach, he could barely hold still. The end of his tail thrashed madly without any prompting, and he grinned widely, utterly amazed by the simplicity of what Maour and Heather had created.

"Now, it's not going to be perfect, it might not even work right at all," Maour warned, stepping back. "You know how prototypes are, and we had to wing it with the bar placement because I wanted this to be a surprise and there was a chance you would look in and see us measuring Von or anyone else."

Toothless looked at Maour. Maour was giving him the slightly slanted smile that meant he was glad to be doing this, but anxious about how his actions would be received. It didn't look right on him; he was much better when he was confident and happy.

Thankfully, it was easy to fix. Toothless leaped at him, totally ignoring the little dangling pedal that promised solo flight, and pinned his brother to the ground. One massive lick to the face was delivered, and then a huge, toothless smile that he held until his brother had wiped the spit out of his eyes and could see.

'This is great,' he said vehemently, still pinning Maour to the ground. 'You are not going to be all sad and introspective about it, are you?'

"I… did say… I would make something… like this." Maour shoved up at Toothless' paws, silently pleading to breathe, but Toothless kept them where they were. Eight years of roughhousing had taught him exactly how much pressure it took to actually harm Maour, and he knew he was well away from that threshold. "Took me a while."

'It is a simple idea, but I did not think of it either,' Toothless admitted. He hadn't thought of flying on his own much at all, truth be told. Maour rode in the back of his mind at all times, and when they were flying together it was like he had both fins anyway. Thanks to their situation, it didn't really feel like he was grounded at all, save for the rare times when he wanted to both go flying, and be alone.

'And it is unlikely to be anywhere near as good as you,' he concluded, backing up and releasing his brother. Maour played dead, of course, laying limply with his eyes closed, but that was just an act. He was still breathing.

"I think he's dead," Heather said from her seat in the sand with Fora, catching on. "You pressed too hard."

'I was murdered,' Maour whispered loudly.

"Murdered in cold blood the moment he had created something to allow his brother to fly alone," Heather elaborated. "The Nótts will take you to trial. We will exile you for such a heinous act."

'I offer to do something else as an alternative punishment,' Toothless chortled. 'Licking him back to life!'

"I'm good!" Maour yelled, leaping up. "No need for that!"

'Then maybe we can try this out?' Toothless proposed, pawing at the little wooden bar. It was situated so that he could pull on it with either one of his back paws, but that made it a little bit of a pain to reach when standing on the ground. It would probably be easier in the air, but that would make takeoffs especially complicated. They would have to fix that… Later. Not right now. Despite his apparent ease, he was dying to try it out now that he was sure Maour wouldn't be bothered by any of it.

"I figured you would want to fly alone the first time," Maour offered.

'That's stupid,' Toothless snorted. He didn't even have to think about his retort. 'Even if I wanted to make flying without you a regular thing, which I do not, do you remember testing the flightsuit for the first time? I am not going up without you ready to take over until we've rebuilt this thing ten times over and flown for a day straight without a single issue. He leaned to the side and growled a light warning. 'Get on before I throw you on.'

"You're right, you're right," Maour conceded, leaping into the saddle. "I don't know what I was thinking. Just tell me if you want me to take over."

'I'm having trouble reaching the- no, there it is.' Toothless grunted with satisfaction as his claws succeeded in pulling the pesky wooden bar into his grip. He curled his paw around it as best he could, pulling down against it to secure it. His false tailfin flared slightly, and the pedal Maour usually used clicked into position even though Maour wasn't touching it.

"They're all connected," Maour explained.

"Because you knew you would have to be able to take over while you two were testing it," Heather added. "That whole 'you can go alone the first time' nonsense was spur-of-the-moment idiocy."

"You have such a way with words when you want to be nice," Maour shot back playfully. "But I get 'spur-of-the-moment idiot' instead?"

"You should know by now that the nicer a Nótt sounds, the less sincere they are," Heather shot back.

"I thought the rule was 'never try to pick out any patterns in deception when it comes to your family, because the moment you notice one it will have changed?'" Maour retorted, setting his boot into the pedal lightly. Toothless could feel the tension in his control bar, the way it resisted him pulling down any more. "Toothless, you want to take us up, or should I?"

"That too," Heather said agreeably. "I've got Fora, you two take as long as you want."

'You take us up,' Toothless decided, loosening his grip. He was realizing that he had no idea how his control actually worked. Pulling down spread the tailfin, but by how much? And how did he close it again if Maour wasn't using his controls to pull it back? He didn't think he could work out how to take off without a lot of experimentation and a lot more crashing. 'I'll learn in the air.'

"You got it." Maour pushed the pedal down, and Toothless' paw was pulled up as far as it could go. His tailfin flared out, and he belatedly adjusted his own to match it. This was going to take a lot of getting used to. He was already thrown off, and they hadn't even done anything yet.

He took off, as he had a thousand times before, and Maour flicked the tailfin to match the dozen little instinctive movements that came with taking off from a standstill. Usually, Toothless didn't even notice his own actions, but now he did with the awareness that came from knowing he would be solely responsible for staying in the air soon.

It was a nice night, and there was scarcely a breeze to be found above the island itself. Toothless took them high enough that if something went wrong, Maour could take over with time to spare, then leveled out in a glide headed nowhere in particular.

"Let's try a turn," Maour proposed. "You can feel me moving the tailfin?"

'Yes,' Toothless confirmed.

"Okay, then this is a left turn," Maour continued. The wooden bar in Toothless' clutches ceased pulling upward, and he let his paw go down until it resisted again. They began turning in the air, and he belatedly adjusted his natural fin so that they would actually turn instead of drop directly into a dive.

"I'm going to be honest, I have no idea why that almost went wrong." Maour, of course, had noticed the momentarily drift to the side. "Maybe the tailfin is malfunctioning somehow."

'No, that was me.' It took him a moment to figure out how to put the confusion he had felt into words, and while he thought, he let them just fly in a big circle, constantly turning left. 'I am not used to needing to think about both sides of my tail, and needing to use my paws to make one move, while moving the other on its own. It is like… what is that human thing Ruffnut said you couldn't do a while back?'

"Rubbing your belly and patting your head, I think," Maour said. "I can see how that would be tricky. It will come with practice, I think. Maybe."

'I'm going to need a lot of practice,' Toothless huffed. 'Now let's get out of this circle before it makes me dizzy.' He hoped it would be solved with practice. It would be the height of irony for Maour to devise a way to get him into the air again, only for him to not be able to use it.

O-O-O

Chapter Text

O-O-O

'Where does it hurt, Einn?' Eldurhjarta asked patiently. It still startled him to hear her calling him that, though he had helped her guess his name days ago. 'Scales and skin, or inside?'

Sterkureinn shook his head, denying that he was in any sort of pain at all. It wasn't pain. He didn't know what it was.

'Discomfort, then?' Eldurhjarta pressed. She was good at interpreting him, better than anyone else on the island. Practice and growing familiarity were probably to blame.

He nodded at that, pawing awkwardly at his chest. The feeling was bad enough that he knew she would be disappointed if he didn't let her know. She and her family were already so kind and understanding with him.

'Is it your heart?' she asked, leaning in to place an ear directly on his chest. 'It sounds the same to me, but I cannot be listening every moment of every night.'

He huffed softly and shook his head.

'Muscles? Bone pain? Cracking joints?' She looked over at his front paw.

He tapped his paw once, confirming that it was a problem with his muscles. He knew bone pain, this wasn't the same thing.

'That's tricky,' Eldurhjarta murmured. 'Sporadic, or you would have brought it up before now. I take it they are clenching and not unclenching?'

He nodded enthusiastically, glad she knew what was going on. He'd had spasms, times where his muscles clenched up and refused to relax.

'It's something to do with stress,' she said carefully. 'I think. You aren't stressed now, but you were in the past, and it's catching up to you. It would have caught you sooner if you were still in whatever bad situation you escaped, but you got out and spent some time decompressing. This is all speculation, though. I don't know for sure what is going on.'

He didn't have any objections to that diagnosis; this entire island was like a dream come true compared to what he had left behind, in most respects. Worry for its inhabitants aside, it wasn't causing him any stress, and he had worried throughout his entire life. That wasn't new.

'Come to me next time it happens, or roar for help,' she advised. 'I want to see your chest when it is happening, or hear one of my family describe what it looks like, and if I am there I can maybe make it stop. Right now, I don't know what exactly is going on, so I can't promise anything.'

He huffed and nodded. There was always someone around in the Eldur caves, so that wouldn't be difficult.

'Anything else you want to tell me about?' she asked.

He shook his head. Aside from his chest and the normal pains in his wings, he felt better than ever. Almost normal, though it had been so long that his memory was foggy on what normal felt like.

'Then I will see you tomorrow evening,' she hummed. 'Remember, exercise is good, but if your chest hurts, stop immediately.'

Sterkureinn nodded, and Eldurhjarta purred happily at him. 'It's nearly dawn, so if you wanted, you could even stay up and lay out in the sun,' she offered. 'Keep that in mind, it's an option.'

He kept up his agreeable nodding until she left, then let his wings slump and headed for the cave entrance, walking past the entrances to the side caverns as he went. His walks were never calming, not really, but he was getting better at putting his fear aside and trusting the clear, empty skies to not hide any Skrill. It would not do to skip a night for no reason.

'Good, Vartha, drop it there,' Eldurfjall said from close by. Sterkureinn was not curious enough to look into the male's side cavern, but he did notice dirt trails on the floor leading to it, mashed into the moss that covered the stone. 'Quickly, before the ants get mad or your mother catches us!'

He continued onward, and soon stepped out into the moonlight. As always, his first thought was to check the skies, so he leaped up onto a small ledge above the cave entrance, gaining a little height to better see the horizons over the forest.

In the West, the moon was setting. In the East, the sun would soon be rising. The South was clear, and the North…

An ominous cloud stretched across the northern part of the horizon, and he tensed, his claws digging into the stone until his paws ached fiercely, in time with his pounding heart.

He wanted to roar a warning, then flee into the deepest, darkest depths of the mountain and huddle in a forgotten corner. It took him several long moments to master his fear and control his breathing like he had been shown, and his body shook as he struggled with himself.

The last thunderstorm had been nothing to be afraid of. These Night Furies all knew to hide, to spend the storm out of sight. Their island was unremarkable, the trees too dense to care about, no obvious water aside from a small stream, no signs of life. They could hide, and he could hide, and he didn't have to do anything to make that happen.

He leaped down to the ground, his limbs trembling, and closed his eyes. It was nothing. He didn't have to do anything to be safe, unless this storm brought his pursuers…

Who would not pass over an island like this. Not without checking the mountain, not when it was so like the many places he had sought shelter in during the pursuit. Isolated, good for nothing.

He walked out into the forest, wandering aimlessly as he wrestled with that horrible thought. They might be coming, they might be checking the suspicious places he could hide in. It would be so easy for them to fly down, find an opening in the mountain - there were four, all more or less obvious from above - and check inside. Where the scent of Night Fury would be obvious, where the slaughter would begin in a confined space, lightning scouring the soft moss and scorching the stone and scarring, breaking-

His heart hammered in his chest, and spidery pains spread out from that spot, scaring him more than they should have. It hadn't hurt last time, and he hadn't felt this way when being chased, or on the ship. It had only started recently, within the last few days, and it scared him because for once his body was breaking down of its own accord, under no strain at all.

He thought about going back to Eldurhjarta once the pain passed, but that led him to thinking about her being dragged back to the place he had fled, her kind, brisk ways scoured and destroyed by the Skrill, her family destroyed, all the families destroyed.

It could not happen. He could not bear to cower and hide and do nothing while his body decayed and his saviours suffered in his place. In all the time he had spent on this island, they had built him up, and now he could think of something worse than going back. Something more terrible. Something he already should have done more to prevent.

Sterkureinn opened his eyes, not quite remembering when he had closed them, and found that he was laying on the ground in front of a tree. His chest pains had receded, so he stood.

Behind him lay the cave, safety, the comforting treatment of Eldurhjarta, though she didn't know how to fix what was wrong with his chest. In front of him, somewhere beyond the hills and the trees, was the shore. A place to watch from. A place to fly from.

If he could fly. If he was going to fly. There might be no reason for it.

But he knew what to watch for, and if there was reason…

He thought he might be able to do it. Maybe, possibly, though if he did, death would become the best thing he could hope for. But his chest might be the first sign that he would be getting that soon regardless.

Sterkureinn continued to walk, now with a destination in mind and a plan for the day to come, though the mere thought of what he might do was enough to make him whimper to himself. But not stop walking.

O-O-O

"Just our luck," Maour said, leaning over to check the place where straps merged with saddle on Toothless' left side. It was a bit awkward to check while sitting in the saddle, but they were already going to be cut short without him wasting more time for his own comfort. "Midday, you think?"

'We have until at least midday, if we do not go right up to it,' Von confirmed from a few paces down the shoreline. She wore her saddle, black with some fancy red swirls painted across its length, and was staring at the truly impressive stormfront brewing in the distance. 'Maybe longer. I can't tell how fast it's moving or in what direction.'

'Not fast enough to outfly one of us,' Toothless said. 'But fast enough to be an annoyance. I am not learning to fly my tailfin in a storm.'

'Pack procedure is to hunker down and never fly in a storm,' Von reminded them. 'Skrill, remember?'

'Exactly, but even more so when I am supposed to be focusing on something else,' Toothless snorted. 'Maour, are we ready to go yet?'

"Don't rush me, unless you want to learn to fly without me because I fell off," Maour joked. He tugged at the straps securing him to the saddle, proving his jest extremely unlikely even as he spoke. They were all strong and without flaw, just as he had intended. Nothing short of a well-swung blade would sever the tough leather, and the wire core he had given them would resist even that, to a point. It wasn't invincible, but it was close enough for their current purpose.

'Also, one of the twins is coming this way,' Von remarked. 'If they are setting up a prank, we would do well to leave before they are ready.'

Maour looked up, and sure enough, a lanky form was jogging down the shore, headed their way. Judging by the blond, oddly-styled hair, it was Ruffnut running toward them at a leisurely pace. She didn't seem ready to enact some complicated piece of trickery, but it was never a good idea to bet on that when it came to a Myrkur or Thorston, no matter how innocent they appeared.

"Maybe I should rush," he muttered, leaning down to test the next strap. He wouldn't skip anything, but if he could do it all quick enough to get them up into the air before Ruffnut arrived and sprang her trap, he'd be glad-

"Hey!" Ruffnut yelled. Her voice was odd, the mental component loud and clear while the physical one was muted by distance. "Wait up! No tricks!"

'At least she leads with that,' Toothless rumbled.

'What is it?' Von roared.

"I'd love… to give you… an explanation." Ruffnut drew close, jogging right past them, and then threw herself down, sprawling face-down. "I hate running."

'Is it an emergency?' Toothless demanded.

"No," Ruffnut huffed, rolling over to stare up at them. "I just saw an empty saddle. Room for one more?"

'No,' Von said primly. 'I am only wearing my saddle in case I need to catch Maour and carry him a long distance. It must remain empty.' She didn't sound at all bothered by having to reject Ruffnut's request, and Maour mentally reevaluated how annoying the twins had been to his sister in recent months to have made her so curt. Some retribution might be in order.

"Why do you want to come along?" Maour asked, taking a more diplomatic approach for the moment. "We're just going to be flying in circles above the shore here." They would actually be spending most of their time above the shallow waters just off the shore, since that was the only place he could conceivably survive a fall and not subsequently drown, if it came to that, but that very specific location wasn't easy to describe without getting into the reason behind flying there.

"Anything is better than what I'm doing now," Ruffnut groaned. "I need distraction. The wind in my hair. Voices that aren't Tuffnut singing his newest song of stupidity and mockery."

'And Boom cannot provide this?' Toothless asked curiously.

"Can't talk to Boom," Ruffnut said, waving her arms in the air. "We got caught making jokes about Myrkurhryðjuverk behind her back when we were supposed to be silent. Then we got caught talking when we were doing things on opposite sides of the island."

"You got caught twice at the same thing?" Maour asked, reluctantly impressed. "That seems beneath you."

"There's only so much you can do when you're being watched and made to kick rocks around all night until you're sorry," Ruffnut said. "Anyway, she was really mad that we were wasting her time, and Blast said something stupid and smug about how she wouldn't defeat us, so she pulled out the ultimate punishment."

'You deserved it, whatever it was,' Von huffed. 'Making a mockery of Myrkurhryðjuverk when she is just trying to make you serve your time and be done with it. You are just making it all more annoying for everyone.'

"Yeah, duh, but we can't help ourselves. Anyway…" Ruffnut sat up, both hands to her head. "She knocked Blast and Boom out, had Boom link with her, and Blast with Myrkurljós. Then she sent Blast and Boom on separate patrols."

"Wow," Maour said, unable to decide whether he was impressed or appalled. Knocking out the dragon or rider was the only way to sever the mental link between hem, and it wasn't supposed to be something trivial enough to be broken as a punishment… But he couldn't think of what else Myrkurhryðjuverk could have done in that situation. They had brought it upon themselves, and he assumed it wasn't a permanent affair.

'I don't like that,' Toothless growled. 'It's not supposed to work that way. We are not letting it work that way.'

"Yes! Help me, alpha dragon." Ruffnut held her arms out wide to him. "Save the unfairly persecuted maiden?"

'I doubt you are persecuted, I don't think it is unfair, and assuming I know what a maiden is, I doubt you are one of those either,' Toothless said with a barking laugh. 'I just do not like that you pushed Myrkurhryðjuverk so far that I have no leg to stand on if I complain about her assaulting you and the bond you have with Boom. You backed her into a corner and she struck at something much more important than your stupidity to get out of that corner.'

"You pretty much summed up how I feel about it, too," Maour said.

"Have mercy!" Ruffnut pleaded, falling back on her elbows and letting her head loll back. "Just get me off the island for a day. I might even fall asleep in the saddle. If I make any trouble, you have my permission to drop me."

'No trouble at all?' Von asked, sounding resigned.

'You are okay with this?' Toothless asked, casting her a surprised look.

'I don't want to be guilt tripped later, and I do feel a little bad for her,' Von said, speaking as if Ruffnut wasn't there at all. 'Not much, but some. Tuffnut annoys me too, but at least I can fly away.'

"If I fall off, which won't happen, you would be catching me with your paws anyway," Maour said. "I don't mind Ruffnut tagging along." She wouldn't be around to bother him and Toothless, it was Von who would have to put up with her, so if Von said yes, who was he to argue?

"Woohoo, pity from the most boring family on the island," Ruffnut said dully. "Thanks, I guess. Now let's get going before Tuffnut finds me."

Maour twisted around to check on the saddlebag behind him, and Ruffnut clambered into Von's saddle. They all spent a few moments in silence, the dragons waiting patiently as the humans checked their equipment. Maour was surprised to see, out of the corner of his eye, that Ruffnut was actually checking everything correctly. He had assumed that the twins had long since forgotten that lesson.

A horn sounded from somewhere in the forest, and Ruffnut cringed. "And it was so funny when we were doing it to everyone else," she groused. "Idiot should know better than to turn our weapons on me. Von…"

'I am not sticking my nose into a feud between you and Tuffnut,' Von huffed. 'But why is he bothering you?'

"Simple Thorston thought process," Ruffnut said ruefully. "If he can't target anyone else, he'll amuse himself by going after me. I would have done the same, but he got the horns and hid them first. Now I can't do anything without him chasing me around, sneaking up on me, and blasting my ears out."

'It is hard to pity you when your problems are all self-inflicted,' Toothless snorted.

"Good, I don't want pity, I just want a way off this island." Ruffnut sprawled forward, awkwardly resting her head on Von's neck. "Ready."

'Not in that position, you are not,' Von objected, shaking her head and by extension battering Ruffnut's head with her ears. 'Sit like normal.'

"You're way too uptight," Ruffnut complained. "Stop spending so much time with Einfari, come hang out with me and Boom more often. We'll either fix you or drive you insane, and either is better than this."

'Are you two ready to go?' Von asked, ignoring her passenger.

"Just about," Maour said, putting the false tailfin through all of its positions one last time. It resisted more than a normal arrangement would, also pulling on Toothless' set of controls, but he was used to that now.

'I am ready if you are,' Toothless said, eyeing Ruffnut skeptically. 'If you really want to take her up.'

"Not a single trick, joke, or prank of any kind," Ruffnut promised, putting one hand over her mouth and the other over her heart. "I'll be as boring as Maour. Or Heather. Or Fishlegs."

'You will not act like a Myrkur,' Von summarized. 'Good enough.' She spread her wings and leaped into the air. Toothless followed suit, and they were off.

Maour looked down at the shore out of curiosity, and saw Tuffnut bursting out of the treeline nearby, wielding two extremely large and extremely ugly horns. Obnoxious noises followed them as they flew up and away, which he assumed was either Tuffnut's way of admitting defeat, or reminding Ruffnut that he would be waiting when she landed. Probably the latter; nobody could say that Myrkurs gave up easily.

"How long are we going to be up here?" Ruffnut asked. "Please say until next week."

'Until that storm gets too close for comfort,' Toothless answered. 'Maour, are you ready?'

"You don't need me here," Maour said, pulling his boot out of the pedal assembly and dangling his leg off to the side. "Go ahead."

Toothless looked down, then launched into the first of many turns, his tailfin reacting only a heartbeat after it should. Maour could tell from the sound alone that it was late, and Toothless would feel the lag in how his body turned sluggishly.

Maour leaned back in the saddle, enjoying the hot, muggy morning while it lasted.

O-O-O

Toothless flipped into an abrupt dive, then pulled himself out a moment later, going nowhere in particular. He had done the same maneuver a dozen times now, and it felt like he was finally getting the motion and timing down.

Learning to fly as a fledgling had been a mostly instinctive process of following prompts and letting his body react as it should, taking advice but not needing to be led step by step through every movement. Learning to fly after losing his tailfin had been even easier; he simply flew as if it wasn't missing and Maour took care of the rest.

He had been spoiled by the ease of it all, and now, learning to fly for the third time in his relatively brief life, he was struggling to make any progress at all.

The urge was there, after weeks of practice, to blame the metal and wood between his paw and tail, to go back to the drawing board with Maour and figure something else out. But there was nothing else; this idea only worked because it wasn't a perfect substitute like Maour, it was something he could do himself. He had to supply the intelligence and effort, because wood and metal couldn't do that, not even with Maour's intellect behind its design.

No, his struggling was nobody's fault but his own. The task of translating instinctive movement into very much not instinctive paw motions was a mind-numbing one, and not one he could pick up all at once, though not for lack of trying. He only seemed able to beat one maneuver at a time into his head, and they often faded out of muscle memory by the next time he practiced. This dive and recovery, so simple he never even thought about it with Maour, had taken up a substantial portion of their morning, and it was one of hundreds of movements he needed to be able to do without thinking.

He dropped into another dive, passing by Von, who was gliding with Ruffnut in her saddle. Thankfully, Ruffnut had held to her word, and was even now dozing in the saddle… though it looked like she was drooling on it, too, which would annoy Von once she found out.

He flicked his tail and spread his wings to pull out of the dive, and lurched to the side in the heartbeat it took him to remember to yank down with his paw. His heart jumped like it always did when something felt like it was going wrong in the flight, and the surge of fear that always followed did absolutely nothing to soothe his annoyance.

Maour didn't comment on the momentary falter; they had both long since grown used to the lurching feeling of one tailfin lagging behind the other and dragging them off course, and there was nothing he could say that Toothless didn't already know.

Toothless growled and pulled his lever, setting himself into an upward climb. It worked better when he thought about how to move his paw for a moment before acting, but that was worthless in any real-life scenario. He wouldn't have the luxury of thinking out his every move if he was fighting, or fleeing, or chasing someone.

As he flew up, he turned to look at the nearby storm front. It was a nasty one, sheets of rain falling from the low clouds to blur and obscure the air between cloud and ocean, and it was moving fast, though it seemed set to pass by their island. Far less threatening clouds covered the rest of the sky now, but that seemed to be all they would be getting on the Isle itself, which was nice. His training was hard enough without having it cut short by bad weather.

But they would need to break soon anyway, for food and for Maour to stretch his legs, so he turned back toward the shore. 'Want to land and drop her off?' he called down to Von.

'She's been quiet, but I still would like to get her off my back for a little bit,' Von agreed. 'Maour?'

"I'm starving," Maour said eagerly. "And my leg is cramping."

'It would not if we finished the new pedal for you,' Toothless reminded him. They had begun working on a pedal that would fold out of the way when not needed, but getting metal and leather to fold in any useful way was a challenge, and they hadn't settled on a design yet.

"Vern ate my schematics," Maour admitted. "I was trying to work on them while watching him and Fora."

Toothless barked a laugh, amused by that. 'Then I think you should not have taught him that parchment is edible.'

"It's not!" Maour complained. "I didn't teach him that, I just thought that he would like to play with a crumpled ball of it. It's not my fault he swallowed it whole and went looking for more the moment my back was turned."

'No, it's not your fault,' Toothless conceded. He didn't understand how his little brother could like the taste of charcoal and parchment, so he probably would have done the same as Maour. 'Take over?'

"Got it," Maour said. Toothless let go of his pedal a moment after it began pulling on its own. He flexed his paw, trying to avoid the stiffness that sometimes came with having it in an unusual position and active for so long.

"We going down?" Ruffnut asked, her voice bright and cheery. Toothless could have sworn she was sound asleep moments ago, and they had not been loud or obvious about their changing intentions… But he had long since learned not to question such things. He never liked the answers he got.

"Yes, though it looks like we'll be up for the rest of the day, if you still want to stay," Maour offered. "And if Von wants to carry you, that is."

"I don't see any signs of Tuffnut," Ruffnut said warily. Toothless began his descent, and as he flew down he examined the shore. He didn't see anyone either, save for a Night Fury off to the right, standing on top of a dune and facing the passing storm. Unless Tuffnut had some elaborate disguise on, that was not him. "But yeah, I'm coming with you."

'Why not just sleep in some out of the way spot?' Von asked. 'Since you seem to just be sleeping on me anyway.'

"Tuffnut would find me," Ruffnut said sourly. "He always does. We've been here for seven years now, we know all the hiding spots.'

'I could drop you off on top of the mountain,' Von offered.

'He'd get Vængur to take him up, and then I'd be trapped up there with him." Ruffnut pat Von's neck appreciatively. 'But Vængur knows better than to bother anybody outside the family with Myrkurhryðjuverk on the warpath, so I'm safe so long as I stick with you. Tuffnut can't fly."

'And he will remain unable to fly for the foreseeable future?' Von asked, casting Maour a wary look.

"I can give him the ability to glide, but flying is beyond even my reach," Maour said. "And making the twins flight suits is not a high priority."

"We don't need any more ways to risk our necks,' Ruffnut said casually. 'Blast and Boom are better for that. No rush."

Toothless set down on the shore, bounded forward until the pins and needles left his back paw, then sprawled out on the sand. He would go up to fish in a moment, but first he just wanted to relax. Flying with control of his prosthetic was stressful, more than normal, and didn't let him relax the way flying with Maour did. He just wanted to lay down, close his eyes, and not think for a moment before doing anything else.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Maour hopped off and began fiddling with something on the end of the false tailfin, which caught Toothless' attention. 'Anything wrong?'

"No, just a thread coming loose," Maour reported. "Got it. I don't think it would have caused problems, but you never know."

"You really put that much effort into his tail?" Ruffnut asked lazily. Toothless got the distinct impression that she was sprawled out somewhere too. It sounded like she was laying on her back again. "I know dragons who don't care for their real tail that much."

'Because real tails don't need it… Wow, that is a big flash of lightning.' Von purred happily. 'It's really good that it's not passing over the island, it's a bad one.'

"It's not often you get to watch a storm from the outside, either," Maour agreed. "This went from annoying inconvenience to something the Eldurs would probably be studying if any of them were awake."

'Isn't that one of them over there?' Von asked. 'Wait, no, that's the new Fury, he has all those scars. I think Eldurhjarta said his name was Einn.'

"Isn't he scared of thunderstorms?" Ruffnut asked casually. "I could have sworn I heard that from somewhere. Maybe it was when I was sneaking into the Eldur caves."

'He is,' Toothless huffed. Eldurhjarta had told him that in passing, and he had assumed it was common knowledge. Einn, if that was his name, was a mystery, but one that only the Eldurs stood any chance of solving…

And their mystery, who was definitely afraid of thunderstorms, was standing on the shore staring at one, with nobody close by to watch him. Toothless huffed and stood, turning to look at the distant dragon. That didn't feel particularly safe, now that he thought about it.

Einn was walking in circles now, head down. Any more than that was hard to make out from this distance - Toothless could barely see the scars, let alone facial expressions - but he seemed agitated.

"I don't think he should be alone out here," Maour said slowly. "We should go over to him and make sure he's okay."

"Better than being hunted by Tuffnut," Ruffnut said. "Not as good as sneaking up on him and playing a prank- oh, wait, there he goes."

Einn leaped into the air, his wings beating awkwardly, and flew out over the ocean. Toothless growled and leaned over, inviting Maour into the saddle. 'That looks bad,' he said seriously.

"Maybe he's just going fishing…" Maour mounted up quickly, despite his words, and then paused. "Wait, the tailfin is unravelling more. I need to replace it before we go anywhere."

Toothless swung his tail around, noticed that there were three threads dangling off now, and huffed in annoyance. 'Do we have another tail?'

"Let's go and steal their glory," Ruffnut said to Von, leaping into her saddle. "Come on, how hard can it be to get that rickety old dragon turned around? He's not even flying right."

'We'll go ahead,' Von chuffed. 'Catch up with us if you can.' She took off with Ruffnut, and the two were soon winging their way toward Einn, who was headed directly for the storm, but at a slow pace. His wings jerked back and forth in the air, and were ever so slightly crooked in shape, slowing him down further.

"It'll only be a moment, I have a replacement in the saddlebag," Maour said, stripping the tailfin off. "Looks like I was sold some bad canvas, it's already threadbare near the edge. What's happening?"

'Von and Ruffnut are closing in on him,' Toothless reported. They weren't within roaring distance yet, but they would be any moment now. He was itching to get out there and fly with them, but his sister could handle herself just fine, in theory. She had been taught to fight by Shadow, and though she hadn't actually been in many real fights, one haggard, tired dragon wouldn't be any real threat to her.

Maour tossed the tailfin aside with quick, hurried movements belying his outward calm, and reached over to the saddlebag. Meanwhile, out over the ocean, Von roared something at Einn, her mouth open wide as she made herself as loud as possible. She could maybe have made herself heard without the noise, but it was always easier to project one's mental voice while simultaneously making a lot of noise. Toothless didn't know why it worked that way, just that it did.

Einn flinched in the air, falling a little before regaining control of himself, and screeched back at Von. Toothless could hear it in the distance, a high-pitched noise of fear and surprise, but if there had been words to go along with it - which he highly doubted, given Einn didn't talk - he was too far away to hear them.

Regardless of what might have been said, that screech was clearly not an inviting one, and Von slowed down a little, as if waiting to see what the other Fury would do next. Another screech followed the first, and though she began to roar again, a third cut her off. Ruffnut was shaking her fist above her head, her other hand on her ear, and Toothless could guess that she was yelling some inventive insults.

"There," Maour said, tugging the last part of the tailfin into place and snapping everything back together. Metal clicked and clacked, and he pulled hard on the fin, yanking Toothless' tail to the side. It held.

'Einn is screeching at her,' Toothless said, leaping into the air the moment Maour twitched the tailfin.

"I thought I heard that," Maour said. "But just screeching? Not talking or attacking or flying away?"

'You know as much as I do now,' Toothless huffed, flying as fast as he could. He could see that Von was now following close behind Einn, who had turned around and was heading for the storm once more. She flew up alongside him-

A blast of blue fire passed in front of Von, splashing into the ocean below, and she reared back, surprised. Einn screeched and continued flying, looking back several times to make sure she wasn't following.

Toothless snarled angrily. Nobody fired warning shots at his sister and got away with it, not even if they had the excuse of being scared and possibly crazy. Von was spooked; she had circled around and given up on the chase for the moment, flying back toward him.

"He's either mad, or really scared and not thinking straight," Maour said. "I don't feel right about letting him go into that storm."

'I don't feel right letting him fire at our sister and get away with it,' Toothless growled. 'We'll go after him, herd him back to the Isle, and then make sure he knows better than to try that again.' He would almost prefer to just catch up to the male, fire a few close misses as retaliation, and then leave him to whatever madness he was going to attempt by flying into the storm, but he knew Maour wouldn't like that.

"Yes, but it's going to be close," Maour noted. "We're barely going to catch him in time."

'We'll make it.' Toothless glared at the distant Fury still flying awkwardly toward the dark, looming clouds and torrential downpour under them. Lightning flashed sporadically, followed by distant thunder.

"Somebody needs to go smack that dragon around!" Ruffnut yelled as Von reached them.

'He does not want to be followed, and he's desperate enough to try and drive me away,' Von reported, her eyes wide.

'Which is a nice way of saying he's an idiot flying into a dangerous storm after firing at you to keep you away,' Toothless growled. 'We're taking the lead.'

'What can you do that I could not?' Von asked.

'Threaten him with a thrashing if he does not turn around, then deliver if he ignores me,' Toothless said bluntly. He felt Maour stirring in the saddle and knew his brother would have something to say about that, but it was a solid plan. He wouldn't really hurt the other Fury, just swipe at his back or underside a few times to drive the point home. They could sort out what all of this was about once they weren't in the air chasing after him.

"We'll make him turn around," Maour confirmed. "How we do that depends on what he does when we catch up."

'Which will be soon,' Toothless growled, leaning into every wingbeat as he pulled forward. Von quickly fell behind, though she seemed to be trying to keep up; she wasn't used to flying with a rider, not like he was. If this were a three-dragon race, she would be in third place, and he in second, closing the gap with first… who was getting very close to the upper layer of dark clouds. Said clouds formed a sort of upside-down bowl, distinct from the ones around them because of how dark they were, and underneath was an area of rain so heavy he couldn't see through it, a dense, constantly falling curtain of water.

'Hey!' he roared. 'You! Come back here!'

"Look, I'm not one to complain in the middle of a chase," Maour murmured, "but has anyone ever heard someone shout that and thought 'oh, yeah, I had better stop?'"

Toothless snorted, amused despite himself. 'What else could I roar?' he asked. It probably didn't matter; aside from glancing back and maybe flying a little faster, Einn hadn't responded at all.

"I'll let you know when I think of something," Maour conceded. "Nothing is coming to mind right now."

They lapsed into silence. The roar of the water falling close by was growing louder, punctuated by the occasional rolling bout of thunder, and the clouds above them were sprinkling rain, though without even a fraction of the force of what lay ahead. Toothless drew closer with every moment, his strong, sure wings gaining ground on the other dragon's slightly crooked, weak ones.

But it wasn't quite enough; the scarred Fury flew right into the foggy, insubstantial edge of the cloud. Toothless followed, unwilling to admit defeat after such a long chase, and kept his eyes on the blurred tail in front of him as the sky grew dark around them. Flying into clouds was always an odd experience, and this was no exception; his body immediately grew damp and heavy with water, and there was a charge in the air that made him want to leave.

"Been a while since we flew in one of these," Maour muttered. "Get him and get out quick. I don't want to try our luck with lightning."

Toothless huffed in wordless agreement and focused on closing the remaining distance. The dragon in front of him glanced back, and their eyes met for a moment. He saw abject terror, pure and simple, and then the dragon looked away and dropped like a stone.

It took Toothless a moment to realize that the abrupt maneuver was meant to lose him, but he had already dropped into a dive to follow, so it didn't work. Neither did the four sharp turns Einn made after that, or the spin and doubling back that had him forgetting which way was up for a moment.

'Stop this!' Toothless barked the moment he pulled out of the latest crazy maneuver. It had to be agony on those wings to do any of this, and he didn't understand why, but he knew that flying around like a mad-dragon in a thunderstorm wasn't good in any scenario. 'I'm not going to hurt you! Just come out of this storm!'

Einn glanced back at him again, still just as scared as before-

A massive flash of lightning sizzled through the dense fog off to the side, and spots blocked Toothless' vision. He tried to shake it off, worried that Einn would be making good on his escape, but when the bright spots faded, he could still see the other dragon…

Who was gliding, his wings stiff and still, his entire body shuddering with terror.

"Toothless," Maour whispered. "No thunder."

It took Toothless far too long to remember what that meant, but when he did, he tensed and fell into a glide too, slowing down as much as possible while he frantically looked around. Lightning without thunder meant Skrill somewhere close. Their lightning made no noise and originated from them, so one could be anywhere, preparing to strike again.

Or it could have been a random strike, and the Skrill didn't know they were present, in which case flying around like crazy or roaring might be a very bad idea. He glided up over the other Fury, finally catching up to him.

'We need to go now,' Toothless hissed down at the other dragon. 'Whatever you are doing, it is not worth your life.' He suspected that there was more to this than he knew; there had to be some sort of reason for a lightning-scarred and traumatized dragon to fly into a thunderstorm and try to drive away those who followed, but he couldn't see what it might be.

Lightning sparked close by, again off to the side, perhaps ten wingspans away. Toothless watched, unwilling to make a sound or move from his glide, as a dark form crackling with power passed through the dense clouds, moving down and forward. It was gone in moments, taking the lightning with it, seemingly unaware of their existence.

Toothless glanced down to check Einn's reaction to that, but he still just seemed absolutely terrified. There was no obvious anger, no roaring and intent to kill, no reason for the other dragon to come here in search of Skrill.

Then what he had just seen caught up to him, and he quickly turned around. Trying to help a suicidal dragon who didn't want to be helped was not worth the risk to himself or Maour. He was leaving…

As soon as he figured out which way led to the edge of the storm, because after keeping on Einn's tail, he didn't know which way they had come from. Every direction looked exactly the same, dark, wet cloud fading to a grey that was close to black, hiding everything beyond about a dozen wingspans from sight.

'Maour,' he hissed, hoping the Skrill wasn't close enough to overhear, 'do you know which way is out?'

"No," Maour whispered. "If we were not flying, I would not know which way is up."

Toothless turned again and barely saw the other Fury's tail fading into the distance-

A surge of lightning struck up at the Fury, spearing through the fog in front of him, and in the heartbeat after it disappeared, a Skrill powered up through the fog and snatched him with its massively oversized talons. It was larger than any Skrill Toothless had ever seen, twice again as big, and each beat of its huge wings left crackling afterimages of lightning. Einn was shaken like a limp fish and then clutched by its massive talons, held under its body.

All of which happened in a heartbeat of terror. In the next heartbeat, the Skrill looked up, directly at Toothless, and a familiar crackling formed in its open mouth.

Toothless folded his wings in and dropped, effortlessly employing the same technique he had spent most of the morning practicing and struggling with. But he had no time to enjoy the ease at which such moves came when Maour was with him; he barely had time to pull out before he lost sight of the Skrill, wreathed in flashing power and light though it was.

"He's not dead!" Maour yelled, abandoning secrecy in favor of giving important information. Toothless hadn't known that, Einn had seemed to hang limply without any life at all after being shaken, but if Maour said so…

The question of whether they would be fighting or fleeing was taken from him in the next moment, even as he pulled out of his dive. The Skrill, still clutching Einn, dropped down almost on top of him, firing short blasts of lightning in every direction, filling the air around them with dangerous, undodgeable hazards for a brief moment.

Then another Skrill powered out of the fog, bursting to life with lightning of its own, and Toothless knew he was going to have to flee, if he and Maour could manage even that.

Both struck, the new one with its talons and the other with lightning, and Toothless ducked away from both, narrowly avoiding taking a talon straight through his wing. He threw himself to the side before another small blast of lightning could electrocute him, then took a chance and fired at one of them, his eyes half-closed against the bright light he was aiming at.

Then something pulled at his saddle, and a blast of lightning came straight for him, and the Skrill pulling at his back curled around to stab at his underside with its talons. He writhed in place, roaring in both anger and fear, desperately seeking to avoid the undoubtedly fatal blows-

O-O-O

Ruffnut had wanted a peaceful day, for once in her life. Usually she craved chaos and the company of her partners in crime, but today she had just wanted to pass the time and avoid Tuffnut's attempts to drive her insane. Being punished by the ever-inventive matriarch of the Myrkur family was getting old and she had wanted to just do nothing for a little while and get it over with so that she could get her link with Boom back.

'You look up!' Von cried out, flying into the torrential downpour under the clouds, keeping closer to the ocean below than the underside of the clouds. 'I will get lost if I go in there!'

Ruffnut leaned back, let the rain flatten her against the saddle, and put her hands up over her eyes. She blinked the water out, then took a score of fat droplets to the face despite her best efforts to shield herself, and coughed as some went down her nose.

Von roared, her voice more lilting than the rougher tone of Boom that Ruffnut was so used to. Ruffnut felt them bank to the side, then fall into a straight path again. 'Can you see anything?' Von asked.

Ruffnut's first thought was to tell Von to check for herself, then she remembered that Von wasn't Boom, and then she recalled that she had no link to Boom, either. She squinted, shifted her hands, and managed to get a prolonged look at the clouds before water blurred her vision again. "No!"

'Where are they, what are they doing?' Von muttered, her mental voice loud and clear over the roar of the downpour. 'Why is this happening? Why did we get involved?'

"Because it seemed like something to do!" Ruffnut offered, peeking out at the clouds again and receiving another momentary blinding in exchange. "What's the big deal? Worst-case scenario, they come out with a cool lightning scar."

'Worst-case scenario, we never find any of them, ever,' Von said, flying onward.

Ruffnut decided against commenting on that, and instead continued to check the clouds. She saw a few distant flashes, but nothing interesting…

Though the lack of what should have come after did remind her of something. She barely remembered most of the lectures she had received over the years, but one had been recently revisited and was still fresh. "Hey, think there are any Skrill up there?"

'I hope not!' Von exclaimed.

"There's lightning without thunder," Ruffnut observed. More flashed in the clouds like a heartbeat, several in regular succession. "Lots of it. How good are you at fighting Skrill?"

'I just want to get my brothers and get out of here,' Von professed. Ruffnut didn't have it in her to be annoyed by that utterly pacifistic goal; this did seem like the sort of situation where it would be better to flee, lure the enemy, and then ambush them on more friendly territory. That was a basic rule of pranking and, by extension, of life.

"We could go up and find them," Ruffnut offered.

'I would not be able to see in front of my own face,' Von fretted. 'At least down here I can see a little further. And I have you, keep watching above us!'

"You make such a high-stakes situation so boring," Ruffnut moaned. She took another look, wishing her eyelids were clear so she could look through them, and saw a massive bundle of lightning explode into being, travel along a slanted path through the clouds, and then disappear.

Then she saw a small figure falling, a tiny black shape in the storm. "There!" she yelled, pointing and then realizing again that Von couldn't see through her eyes. "Forward, a little to the left, falling!" It was close, if Von reacted fast enough they could catch the ragged figure plummeting toward the ocean-

Von surged forward, correcting her course and flying down to intercept the figure, and Ruffnut hastily spread her arms to receive what she assumed was either Maour or a suspiciously-shaped chunk of dragon flesh. It was hard to tell, and if it was Maour she had no idea where Toothless was, except for maybe flying on his own with the contraption they had spent the entire morning testing.

Von flew under the object's trajectory, then to Ruffnut's surprise up and out of it, circling around and flying almost straight up in a maneuver that had her holding on for her life, thankful her safety straps kept her from falling right off Von's back and being smacked by her tail on the way down-

Von's body rocked, her paws catching onto and slowing the human-sized figure, and Ruffnut jerked forward. Then Von screeched, and the body - it was Maour, Ruffnut had caught a glimpse of four limbs and a familiar set of armor tangled with part of the saddle - slipped out of her grasp, both of them clutching futilely at each other.

Ruffnut tried to swing around and grab something, but it was too late, and Von was a moment too slow in dropping to catch up. Maour hit the water below, not hard enough to hurt him… but it was still a rough mid-storm ocean far from shore. And they still had no idea what had become of Toothless.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Von sunk her claws into the scale armor and shreds of saddle attached to Maour's plummeting form. She extended her wings more to level out over the thrashing waves, but Maour slipped from her grip. She shrieked as she angled down again, but before she could even flap her wings once, Maour hit the crest of a wave with a splash that was entirely drowned out by the intense beat of rain on water, and promptly began to sink despite weak thrashing. His body was pulled beneath the waves-

"I've got this," Ruffnut yelled, shifting in the saddle. "Come around to grab me!" she added, leaping off just as Von pulled up over the surface of the water.

Von hadn't expected Ruffnut to jump - she didn't even know how the Myrkur human had so quickly removed the safety straps to do so - but she understood the reasoning behind it. Ruffnut could swim and pull Maour up, Von could not.

She skimmed over the water, pulled up to avoid a wave, and banked into a sharp turn, straining to keep her eyes on the place where Maour and now Ruffnut had gone down. There was nothing to be seen on her first pass, so she circled around again. Her second pass also revealed nothing. As she spun around again, she had a sinking feeling. With how the wind was throwing her about and the waves constantly shifting, it was impossible to know she hadn't drifted away. For all she knew, Ruffnut could be floundering beneath the merciless waves, struggling to swim up with one hand occupied holding onto–

An arm broke through the surface, followed by Ruffnut's signature hair.

That was enough, more than enough, for Von to act. She stuck out her paws and managed to sink her claws into the offered arm, though the resulting pull would have yanked her out of the sky if she hadn't been prepared for it, and almost did anyway. Her wings strained and beat against the windy, rainy sky, and she dragged Ruffnut, along with Maour, out of the water.

Each flap was a struggle against her grip and the weight pulling on it, and she reluctantly sank her claws deeper into Ruffnut's forearm. Ruffnut doubled up and kicked at her back paws, and she gladly grabbed the proffered boots, wary of them slipping off but thankful for the extra place to grip.

"Pulling my arm out of my shoulder!" Ruffnut yelled above the wind, and Von realized that while she might be able to support their weight without injury, Ruffnut couldn't do the same, not indefinitely.

Von cast about for somewhere to land and set them down, but there were no sea stacks anywhere this close to the Isle, and she couldn't even see the Isle itself, the driving rain obscuring her vision. There was nowhere at all to land, and even if she wanted to try flying out of the storm to get her bearings, Ruffnut would never last long enough.

"Hey!" Ruffnut shook, pulling at Von's grip despite the pain doing so probably brought. "You're awake! Help me out by climbing up and getting off me!"

Von looked down, confused, and saw that Maour was clutching Ruffnut's arm. He let go with one hand, grabbed her shoulder, and slowly hauled himself up, his eyes closed against the driving torrent of water.

She could do nothing but fly steadily and wait, wary of distracting Maour or shaking him free, but she flew with her head down, watching as he slowly pulled himself up to hang from a saddle strap.

"Finally!" Ruffnut yelled as Maour reached out for Von's sole unoccupied paw. She sank her claws into his armguard, glad he was wearing something to protect his vulnerable flesh, and then swung him out to the side, taking him off Ruffnut, who immediately grabbed on in turn.

"That sucked!" Ruffnut yelled.

'Sorry!' Von said. 'Maour, where is Toothless?' She had retrieved one of her brothers, but the other was missing.

"Alive," Maour said, the mental voice that intertwined with his own hopeful. "Still linked."

"How- wait, no," Ruffnut yelled. "Take your claws out of my arm, I'm getting back into the saddle."

Von winced in sympathy, remembering how, exactly, she was holding Ruffnut's left arm, and carefully worked her claws free. Ruffnut swarmed up her side with surprising ease, and once in the saddle leaned over to pull Maour up. Their weights settled on Von's back, as safe as they were going to get for the time being.

"We're still linked," Maour said. "They didn't knock me out, I was shocked as they tore into the saddle. I feel the link…"

"Use it, duh," Ruffnut huffed. "And tell me you keep bandages in this saddle somewhere, I don't want to have to use my hair."

O-O-O

Toothless let out a guttural roar as the shock coursed through him. The talons that had aimed to pierce his body shot out to the sides and gripped his torso, digging into his ribs. His saddle - and Maour - were speared by the other Skrill's talons, ripped off in a single violent motion.

There was nothing he could do; his limbs all curled inward, his wings furling and his paws clenching, driving his own claws inward. His teeth locked, and his vision whited out for a time, though none of it was enough to knock him out. It would have been impossible to tell whether or not he lost consciousness for a brief moment in the throes of agony, except for the link in the back of his mind, which remained unbroken.

Even as he fell limp and fought to move his body, to fight back against the Skrill now carrying him with his wings pinned to his sides, he clung to that mental connection, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn't break in the next moment. He couldn't bear to access any of Maour's senses, lest he dispel his own hopes, but the very fact that the link remained was enough.

Which was good, because there was very little hope to be found in the situation he was in. The two Skrill flew side-by-side, unscathed by the very brief fight they had initiated. Einn hung limp from the other's talons, looking very much like a corpse, though Toothless thought he saw the other Fury's chest moving.

He twitched his tail, then his wings, testing the strength of the talons gripping him. A small shock ran down through said talons into him in response, making him grit his teeth and tense up. It was nothing compared to the strike that had subdued him in the first place, but it lingered, making his muscles spasm and his head hurt.

The Skrill said nothing to him, not even acknowledging what it had done. It flew onward with its companion, either deeper into the storm or out toward the edge. It was impossible to tell where they were or where they were going.

Toothless hung there for a time, limp and silent, considering his options. The Skrill weren't killing him, which cast an uncertain shadow over everything he had thought he could take for granted with their species. That was a good thing; if he had been right in thinking they always killed Night Furies, he wouldn't be alive now.

The link in the back of Toothless' mind twitched in a familiar way, and he exhaled, shaky with relief. Maour was accessing his senses, meaning he was alive, conscious, and trying to find out what had happened after he was torn off Toothless' back.

Toothless wasted no time in doing the same, well aware that his own predicament was self-evident. He was greeted with the sight of the back of Von's neck, and when he accessed Maour's sense of touch to check for wounds, the feeling of Ruffnut's breathing against the back of his head. They were all there...

Under the storm clouds, flying in a direction indistinguishable from any other, just as lost as he was. Von was weighed down by two passengers, unused to regularly carrying even one, and tired from flying all morning. They were not safe, not by a long shot. Just safer than he was right now.

"Toothless, what's going on up there?" Maour asked, speaking aloud. "I see clouds and nothing else, but I feel you being carried, not flying."

'The-' he began, only to be cut off by another painful jolt from his captor. He yelped and wished he had kept ahold of Maour's sense of feeling, so as to avoid the sensation of being struck by a tiny burst of lightning… though not feeling that might have led to him continuing to talk and incur a more serious retaliation, unable to feel it but still entirely capable of being injured or killed by it.

'No talking,' the Skrill carrying him growled. Its voice had a buzzing cadence, one that added menace to the admittedly already quite menacing statement. 'Or else.'

'You did not need to say or else, the threat was clear already,' the other one called over. 'And clearly boring. At least come up with something creative to keep his mouth shut next time, plain shocks are the most basic possible thing you could be doing.'

'You just want entertainment,' the one carrying him replied scathingly.

'Yes, and you got the durable one,' the other shot back. 'Switch at the next landing? I want to play with that one. This one is liable to die the second I get started.'

'We are already late,' the one carrying him growled. 'No. I have this one, you have that one.'

'Late?' The other Skrill let out a surging laugh, little bolts of lightning crackling around its mouth and spilling down the rest of its body. 'There is no late. What are we late for?'

'It will be embarrassing, coming back after so long away, when we said it would take only a day or two,' Toothless' captor complained. Toothless was getting the impression, from the difference in voices and the way they spoke, that the one carrying him was a younger male, and the other older, though possibly not by much.

'You care too much about how others see you.' Einn's captor shook him around. 'We had fun hunting this one down, and we will be coming back with another. That is more than enough to make you look good for him and her, but neither of them will care.'

'You are as twisted as they claim you are,' Toothless' captor snarled. 'Turn that on them, not on me.'

'Give me that one, and I will,' the other offered with a toothy smirk.

'No!' Toothless' captor flew ahead, lightning crackling around it and occasionally lancing out to sting him, and the other fell in behind, cackling mockingly.

After a few moments of renewed silence, Maour spoke again. He had been listening, of course. "So we have a little time. Einn was caught all the way out by the Waxears, and even if these Skrill came from somewhere close to them, that's two weeks. Maybe more."

Toothless wouldn't say no to a rescue, especially as he couldn't say anything without being shocked, but he hoped Maour meant he and Von would be going back to the Isle to gather everyone and then coming for him, not trying to do something themselves.

"Hey, fill us in," Ruffnut said from behind Maour. "We don't know what you overheard."

"Toothless and Einn are being carried by two Skrill who seem unwilling to actually kill them," Maour summarized. "The one carrying Einn wants to hurt Toothless for fun, but the other isn't letting him. They are going back to a place where there are others who the one carrying Toothless seeks the approval of."

'Which way are they going?' Von asked. 'Is Toothless listening in? Can he hear me?'

"He can hear you, but they shock him every time he tries to speak, so he can't say anything," Maour explained. "And as far as I can tell, there's no way to know where the Skrill are going until they get out into open skies. They might not even know at the moment.' His voice was steady, but Toothless knew his brother well enough to know that such a steady, even tone hid immense amounts of stress and worry.

'Should I continue flying down here, or should I try to go up through the clouds and find the sun, or should I try and find the Skrill?" Von asked. "I cannot fight them both off, or even just one of them, but maybe I can distract the one with Toothless so he can slip away and… do something?" she finished with a groan. "I don't know what is best."

"Go after the Skrill," Ruffnut advised. "Get me in close, I'll jump on one and punch it in the eye."

"So no, don't do that," Maour sighed. "The saddle was torn through… Toothless, is your tailfin still there? Can you feel how much is missing?'

Toothless huffed quietly and accessed Maour's sense of touch for a brief moment, reminding him that he could do that. He was going to have to because he didn't want to push his luck by talking. He was a helpless observer for the time being, as much as that bothered him.

"Right," Maour murmured. "You can feel, but you can't tell me, I've got to do it. So… your tailfin is intact, that's good, but it feels like the front half of the saddle is gone. It would have torn through where I connected the two main parts, down the middle, but there was nothing vital in that part, just padding… The back saddlebag should still be there, that would be part of the weight hanging off."

"What's in that?" Ruffnut asked.

"Enough parts to repair the tailfin and Toothless' side of the controls," Maour said brightly. "And I think that's my scythe bumping into Toothless' side every so often, so that's there too. Nothing important was lost."

'Do you have a plan?' Von asked eagerly. 'I could really use some good news.'

"The beginnings of one," Maour admitted. "It all depends on how the Skrill sleep at night."

"I don't think you're going to be able to guilt them into submission," Ruffnut snorted.

'This isn't the time for jokes,' Von growled. 'What do you actually mean, Maour?'

"I'm thinking of us finding them, then me sneaking in while they sleep and fixing Toothless' controls so he can leave," Maour said. "But that depends on us finding them, and on how they intend to keep Toothless and Einn around and not…"

"Ripping their throats out?" Ruffnut said, voicing Toothless' exact thoughts on the subject.

"Something like that," Maour agreed. "And we can't do anything until we get out of this storm and figure out where we are. If we end up right next to the Isle, we can bring in a bunch of reinforcements, but if we end up on the other side of this storm, going all the way back and then trying to catch up might be futile. We don't know how fast the Skrill travel."

'I hope they are not faster than me,' Von murmured.

Toothless glanced over at the Skrill carrying Einn. He flew without any visible strain, his wings beating at the water-laden air with ease, and sparks flew with every movement. Skrill drew energy from storms, so it might be that he wouldn't tire at all until he got out of it… Or maybe that only applied to lightning to use on others, and he would tire soon. The only way to find out would be to wait and see.

O-O-O

Ruffnut leaned back in the saddle. Her butt was going numb, thanks to her being forced to sit on the mostly-empty saddlebag to make room for Maour. He hadn't made Von's saddle to comfortably fit two people, which was obviously a glaring oversight on his part, though she hadn't known Von had her own saddle until today.

She was flying on a rescue mission… or a 'go home and get help' mission, they didn't know which yet… but she was still bored, and her shoulder ached, and her arm throbbed underneath the hastily-assembled bandage.

"Someone say something," she said. "Don't you have a flying song or something?"

A moment passed, and she debated repeating herself at a yell. The sound of rain on, well, everything, was surprisingly loud.

'What is a flying song?' Von asked. 'And how does it help us?'

"It helps by motivating you," Ruffnut offered. "Something like 'just keep flying, just keep flying,' over and over again until something happens.'

Von pondered that for a while. Ruffnut hummed to herself, trying to find the perfect tune for her improvised lyrics. It had to be upbeat, because if she made it depressing Maour and Von were liable to throw her into the sea. Flying to the rescue of their brother, captured by bloodthirsty mortal enemies, was not a time to pile on the sadness. But if she made it too happy, they would throw her off to save their sanity. It was a delicate balance she was sure to entirely fail at, but thinking about it was still better than doing nothing other than occasionally trying to access the link that was no longer there…

'I think any repetitive noise from you would make me want to stop flying,' Von said sincerely. She wasn't the sort to do biting sarcasm, and Ruffnut believed that she meant it. 'Maour, any change?'

"Nothing is happening with Toothless," Maour reported soberly. "Einn moved a bit, but not even enough to get a shock."

'Oh.' Von huffed loudly enough to be heard over the storm. 'I wish we had not chased him.'

"In retrospect, it seems like he was trying to find these guys and ward them off, or something," Maour agreed. "But he really didn't make that clear to us."

"I don't know," Ruffnut argued, "firing at Von and trying to stop us from following seems pretty clear. We just didn't listen."

"Yes, thank you for that," Maour muttered. "It's too late now, though. There's only one thing for us to do."

'Fly until we find land or clear skies,' Von murmured. 'Whenever that is.'

O-O-O

Von pushed down at the air, her wings weary, and settled into a short glide. In a few moments she would have to regain the height she was losing, but until then she could rest.

She didn't know how long she had been flying. Long enough that Maour, stressed and worried for their brother, had succumbed to sleep. Long enough that Ruffnut had also drifted off, though that was less surprising as she had been napping throughout the day.

If it was even still day. The storm stretched on forever in all directions, as far as she could tell. It didn't, not really, but she couldn't see any difference between the rainy curtain ahead, behind, or in any other direction. For all she knew, she was flying with the storm as it moved, remaining firmly inside it even as her strength failed…

The uncertainty ate at her resolve just as the discomfort did, and she wished, not for the first time, that a sea stack would appear out of the rainy mist in front of her. All she wanted was a bare patch of rock to rest, just big enough for her to land on and not fear falling off. Maour and Ruffnut were not heavy as humans went, not like somebody like Fishlegs, but they did weigh something, and together were enough to make her strain to fly in any situation, let alone this one.

Or maybe that was not all she wanted; she wanted everyone to be safe on the Isle, not out here in this miserable situation relying on her when she wasn't up to the task.

The waves surged up to meet her, as volatile and chaotic as ever, and she groaned as she began the arduous task of climbing back up into the sky. Ascending above the storm would let her get her bearings, but she still did not dare go through the clouds, flashing and booming with natural lightning as they were. One lightning strike would instantly doom herself and those she carried. But if this went on for much longer, she might have no choice but to try. It was only the danger that kept her down here, under the clouds and rain.

She had been flying for so long… something had to change. She snarled to herself and turned at the top of her climb, settling into a glide perpendicular to the straight path she had followed up until now. For all she knew, this was the path that would carry her in the same direction as the storm, she could be abandoning the right direction just before it proved correct, but doing something felt better than doing nothing.

She settled into her weary pattern, gliding and recovering height in turn, worrying and hoping with every flash and boom above.

O-O-O

Toothless felt very alone, though he was within earshot of three dragons, and still had his link to his brother and by extension Von and Ruffnut. Maour was asleep, rendering the link useless, Einn was as silent as ever, and the Skrill were not talking to him. They were talking, certainly, but not about anything he wanted to hear.

'I do not believe you,' the one carrying him scoffed.

'Dig deep enough, avoid spilling too much blood, and you can pull it out still beating,' the far more sadistic, older male said calmly. 'Can't put it back, of course, but if you ever want to see what the insides look like while they're still going, you've got to take what you can get.'

'And you did this when?' the young one asked, sounding not at all bothered by the gut-churning act of violence they were discussing. 'It did not happen while we've known each other, so it had to have come long ago.'

'Territorial dispute, some random collection of rocks in the middle of nowhere,' the sadistic one growled. 'I was passing through, one side begged for my help.'

'This was before-' the young one began, only to be cut off by a surge of sparks from the other.

'Obviously,' the other replied with an amused snort. 'I flew down, let them treat me like their alpha for a little bit, asked about any Usurpers in the area, then decided I might as well help out.'

'Because it gave you an excuse to get violent?' Toothless' captor guessed.

'No.' The sadistic Skrill paused, seemingly confused, and Toothless started paying attention. Anything that confused or bothered his captors might be important to know.

'What do you mean, no?' his captor huffed angrily. 'Tell the story or do not.'

'No, I did not do it to give myself an excuse, or to enjoy it.' The sadistic Skrill cocked its head to the side, staring at the other as they flew. 'I did not care so much for being creative back then, I did not enjoy it. A good, solid kill was enough for me, and usually I did not even care about that. It was a chore. I did it because… that's getting ahead of myself.'

'Just tell me why you ripped some random dragon's heart out already!" the angry younger Skrill roared. Electricity coursed all over his scales, and Toothless flinched from yet another tiny shock, this one small enough that he didn't even think it was intentional.

'I was sending a message,' the sadistic one sneered, unimpressed by his companion's anger. 'I remember now. I went to this other pack, got them to treat me well, waited until they asked me to deal with the first pack. Then I brought both of their miserable packs together, called up both of their lowly alphas, and killed the one I liked better where he stood, with a single blow.'

'And then?' Toothless' captor asked eagerly.

'I told them they were all fools, pinned the living alpha, and dug his heart out. The few who tried to get close got shocked for their trouble, and when I was done…' The sadistic Skrill sighed loudly. 'Ah, I told them; "Do not fight any longer. Don't you see, you are all the same under your scales? If I dug into any of you, I would find a heart just like this."'

There was a momentary pause.

'Then I ate the heart and flew away,' the sadistic Skrill concluded. 'I don't know whether they listened to me or not, they were too busy shrieking and flying away in terror.'

'So you were always insane,' the other Skrill laughed. 'I…' He trailed off, looking to the side, and Toothless noticed the other Skrill looking the same way, at the same time.

'You feel it too,' the one carrying Toothless sighed. 'Would that we could fly with this storm for as long as it lasts.'

'It has been a worthy companion in this hunt,' the sadistic Skrill said reverently, closing his eyes. 'In other times, I would follow it to its end or the ends of the world, for having granted my prey and another besides.'

'But these are not other times,' the younger one reminded him. 'We must return.'

'There is no question,' the older growled. 'Never that.'

Both Skrill turned at the same time, and in moments Toothless began to see the clouds thinning. The haze between him and the Skrill carrying Einn, his only reference point in the endless clouds, grew lighter and more translucent. It was not a fast transition, but when beams of pale light began breaking through a short while later, Toothless wasn't surprised at all.

The Skrill burst out into the open sky, and Toothless breathed deeply, relieved to be in the open air again… even if under less than ideal circumstances. The sun was just completing its trip below the horizon, streaks of orange in the sky off to the side his only indication that it was only just becoming night. Clouds spread from horizon to horizon, darker directly under the Skrill.

'Yours is awake,' the sadistic one noted. 'Shock it.'

'So long as it remains still and does not speak, I am not shocking it,' the angry one said deliberately. His head was up, and he refrained from making his intentions blindingly obvious by looking down at Toothless, but he knew he was being spoken to directly.

'You will have to set an example sooner or later,' the other rumbled thunderously. 'I await that moment.'

'If this one is smart, it will not make me do anything like that,' Toothless' captor said. 'But if it is not… I will not mind.'

'You had better not mind, child,' the sadistic one sneered. 'Or I'll find a way to kill you, rules or not.'

'My hatred for Usurpers shines just as bright as yours, old torturer,' Toothless' captor spat back. A bolt of lightning leaped between them, doing no apparent harm to either. 'Never doubt that.'

A boiling rage colored his tone, one Toothless found surprisingly familiar. It was reminiscent of how Nóttreiði had spoken about Maour, back before the war and his change of heart, but with a sharper, more sure edge. Where Nóttreiði had sounded as if he spoke from second-paw experience alone, this Skrill spoke as if he personally had reason to hate.

'Never give me reason to doubt it.' The older Skrill shook Einn in his talons for emphasis. 'We are barred from the easy way of proving your drive, and from the reward, but the fate of those led astray remains the same, the same as those doing the usurping.'

'No, it does not,' Toothless' captor snarled. 'Not for this one.'

'Not for them, but after the long years we have spent on guard, can you really say their fate is better?' the older one asked. 'And now you have got me thinking too much. Pass me that Usurper to play with, or I might knock you around in its stead.'

'You will kill it by accident.' Toothless' captor shook him around a bit for no apparent reason. 'And I want to save you as a punishment.'

'I suppose there is something to be said for anticipation,' the other growled. 'Besides, we will need to ground them soon enough anyway. I will enjoy that.'

'We will do it once we land,' Toothless' captor agreed. 'I can fly through the night, can you?'

'Better than you can,' the other Skrill snorted.

Toothless had been worried before, but now he was past worried and on to terrified. He had survived being grounded once, and probably could again, but the scars on Einn's wings implied this grounding was unlikely to be as easy and painless as taking his false tailfin off. If it were not for his inability to fly even now, he would have fought to get loose, shocks and the futility of trying to escape notwithstanding.

Instead of fighting, he turned to Maour, accessing all of his brother's senses in an effort to calm himself. Maour was asleep, which was good, in a way. A blank darkness filled Toothless' vision, and the gentle up and down motions of Von flying beneath him replaced the much more active, jerky motions of the Skrill. The talons digging into his side disappeared, and all he felt were Maour's small collection of bruises.

At worst, he could seek refuge in Maour's senses when it happened. At best, he could use this calm, quiet place to figure out a way to avoid being grounded…

O-O-O

'Wake up!'

"Hey, sleepy, get your weird back armor out of my face," Ruffnut grumbled. A hand shoved him forward, then grabbed his shoulder when he began to tilt out of the saddle.

Maour reached up to wipe his face off, glad the rain was warm, and blinked rapidly. He could feel Toothless riding in the back of his mind, accessing all of his senses, which was a relief. Toothless would never risk that unless absolutely nothing was happening where he was.

As for where they were… He looked around, confused. "What is it?" he asked. They were still flying under a dark, cloudy sky. It seemed to be night now, or close to it.

'We're finally out of the storm,' Von exclaimed.

"So is Toothless," Maour added, checking in with his brother, who still hung limply in the Skrill's grasp. "They're heading off to the left of the rising moon."

"So where are they going?" Ruffnut asked.

"Not back to the Waxears," Maour murmured. That would make finding Toothless again harder, if they didn't stay right on his tail now. He looked around, but the Isle was nowhere to be seen. The storm they had left was behind them, and presumably if Von took them above the clouds they could find their way…

He wished he had something to draw on; there was parchment in the saddlebag, plenty of it, but not in Von's saddle. Toothless had it. "I need to see where the moon is," he said, popping open one of the small compartments built into his armguard. There was a charcoal pencil inside, dull but usable, so he was halfway there.

'I just saw it a moment ago, right when we came out into the open,' Von said. 'We are flying toward it. But I want to stay down here and find somewhere to set down.'

"Yeah, you don't look so good," Ruffnut remarked. "Wings only tremble like that when they're about to collapse."

'I can keep going… but not for long.' Von growled worriedly. 'Maour, where are we? I know you have mapped every tiny chunk of rock within a day's flight of the Isle.'

"I'm working on it," Maour muttered, resorting to making nearly illegible marks on Von's saddle, scribbling over one of the patches dyed red. He drew a crude oval to denote the isle, and a moon to the east of it. Then he marked the storm, which had been moving parallel to the Isle's shore…

"I think we flew with the storm for a while, then came out the other side?" He traced that path with his finger and frowned; it didn't work if they had gone totally straight. "Von, did you change direction at some point?"

'Yes, not that long ago. Is that good?'

"It got us out, so yes," he assured her. That made sense, and gave him a rough location for where they were. The storm was between them and the Isle, and they were flying directly away from both, headed East.

"There should be a few sea stacks off to the right, if you turn now," he reasoned. "Two or three small ones. They'll only be visible once you get close, they're not that big."

Von banked to the right, and Maour saw what Ruffnut had pointed out. His sister was tired, close to the point of collapse. He hoped they could get to the sea stacks in time. When they did, Von would need rest, widening the gap between them and Toothless.

"Not that I don't want to stretch my legs," Ruffnut drawled, "but what are we going to do after that? I'm up for a fight, but unless Von can cough up a spear or something, I've got nothing."

'I am not in the habit of swallowing sharp things,' Von huffed.

"My scythe is with Toothless," Maour said. "We have two options, though. We could go back to the Isle, gather everyone else, and come after Toothless with them. Or we could find these sea stacks, let Von rest, and then try to get to him ourselves wherever they set down. They have to sleep sometime, and if I can get some time with our gear, I can get him into the air." He had assembled the supplies in Toothless' saddlebag with the intention of being able to do something exactly like this, devoid of a forge or time to improvise.

'I see the sea stacks!' Von exclaimed, diving forward. The lumpy rock formations were just as Maour remembered them, squat and so low that higher waves splashed up onto them, wide enough for a dragon or two but not much else.

Von landed, then promptly collapsed, her wings folding in with a shaky slowness that made Maour wonder just how close they had come to falling into the ocean.

"Great work, sister," he said, scratching behind her ears. Ruffnut leaped out of the saddle and began walking in circles on the small patch of rock open to her.

'How long do I have to rest?' Von asked.

"That depends…" Maour checked Toothless' senses, but all he saw was the Skrill flying in the same direction, above the clouds. They weren't even looking for a place to land, implying they would be going for a while. "We need to decide what we're doing."

'It does not feel safe to take the time to go back and get everyone else,' Von huffed. 'But it also doesn't feel safe to go after him alone.'

"We won't be getting into a direct fight with them, we're just getting Toothless free, maybe Einn, and then getting away," Maour reminded her. "If we can."

'It sounds like you have made up your mind,' Von remarked.

"I haven't yet," Maour objected. "Let's go through the advantages and disadvantages. If we go back to the Isle, what do we get?"

"Overwhelming firepower," Ruffnut supplied helpfully. "That's pretty much it."

"And what do we lose?" Maour continued.

'Time,' Von huffed. 'Which we do not have any of in the first place. They are Skrill, we need to save him as soon as possible. The further he gets from us, the harder it will be to find him, and they could knock him out at any time and then change directions."

Maour cringed, imagining that terrible scenario. They wouldn't know where to look, whether Toothless was dead or alive, or where the Skrill were going. "Yeah, that's bad," he agreed. "Now, going after him with just the three of us. What do we get?"

"We can follow close behind and maybe catch them before the end of tomorrow, if Von is fast enough," Ruffnut offered. "You'll do your sneaky repairs, I'll do something awesome and helpful, and we'll all leave. Maybe we'll even get the chance to kill them without a fight. I can do that."

"And what do we lose?" Maour asked.

'Our safety net,' Von murmured. 'We will be on our own, and every moment we spend chasing the Skrill makes going back to the Isle worse and worse as an option. We only get to make this choice once. And if I cannot catch up…'

"They're carrying an entire dragon each, you only have to carry two humans," Maour assured her. "You'll catch up. Toothless, anything to add?" He checked Toothless' sight and saw his brother nodding frantically. "Yes, apparently…" He wasn't quite sure how Toothless was going to say anything-

'Grounding us when land dawn!' Toothless barked. Then he roared, a strained sound, and his head fell, his eyes half closed. He wasn't unconscious, but he definitely wasn't feeling good.

'I think this one is already cracking from the fear,' the Skrill carrying Toothless said. 'That will make things interesting.'

'It is a strange one, flying with a human on its back,' the other hummed. 'If I cared, I would interrogate it, but there's really no point. The human is dead anyway.'

'Leave that to the one most suited to getting answers,' the first Skrill chuckled. 'You are good at inflicting pain, but not much else.'

When the Skrill fell back into silence, Maour turned his mind to the quick message Toothless had valued enough to suffer for in passing it on. "He said 'grounding us when land dawn,'" he relayed, understanding the meaning even as he spoke. "They're going to ground them once they set down in the morning!'

Von whined, and Ruffnut clenched her fists angrily. "That answers that question," Ruffnut growled. "We're going. There's no way we can catch up to them in time if we go back to the Isle first."

'I agree,' Von snarled. 'I will fly fast. We should go now.' She made to rise-

"No, not now," Maour said urgently. "You rest. We need you in the best possible shape to make this next flight. We have until dawn, and it is early in the night. You can fly faster if you're rested." Not to mention that they would be at a lesser risk of her overexerting herself and dooming everyone.

'Knock me out, then, please,' Von requested, tilting her head to give Maour access to her pressure point. 'I do not want to waste time falling asleep.'

"You got it," he said, seeking out the soft spot on the underside of her chin and pressing it gently. She fell limp, and he stepped out of the way before she could pin him beneath her.

"Well, this is going to be boring," Ruffnut huffed. "Any chance that brilliant mind of yours could make me a weapon while we're waiting?"

Maour considered the sea stack around them, and what he had on himself. Some of his equipment was too useful to break apart for materials, such as his flightsuit, but there were other things he could do… And it would make him feel like he was working toward saving Toothless, even as they waited while he was carried further and further away. "I'll see what I can do."

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Every time Von looked up, the moon had moved. That was normal, of course, but she had never felt so rushed by the passage of time, and felt it all the more keenly each time she checked.

She was racing to catch up with her brother before dawn, and the stakes were high. Nobody else could do what she was doing. Toothless was helpless, Maour and Ruffnut could not fly, and nobody else even knew what was going on. They were all depending on her.

Her wings ached from the exertion of flying all day, a short rest had not fixed that, but she powered on anyway, pushing the pain out of her mind. She would be sore like never before at the end of this night, and even if she did make it in time she might have to fly more as they all beat a hasty retreat after saving Toothless, but it would all be worth it if she could just move fast enough.

Aching muscles were nothing when compared to the agony of her brother being severely hurt and crippled again, this time because she just wasn't fast enough.

"Slow down, keep to a pace you can maintain all the way through the night," Maour said, not for the first time. His hands were on her wing shoulders, feeling the strain she endured with every beat of her wings. "This is a marathon, not a sprint."

"What's the difference?" Ruffnut asked idly. "Everything is a sprint if you want to get away badly enough."

"Marathons are where you are going a long distance and need to conserve your strength," Maour explained. "Like this. If we were, say, racing the Skrill to an island close by, then it would be a sprint."

"But she's flying, not running," Ruffnut objected.

"Same thing," Maour huffed.

'Same thing,' Von agreed, straining to speak without sparing any breath or breaking her concentration. She hoped they would not continue that argument; it was distracting and she couldn't afford any distractions. She had to focus on flying at just the right speed, fast enough without exhausting herself too soon.

It was such a strain, pushing her limits while carrying two humans, a saddle, and the fate of her brother on her back. She wanted to land and pass the burden to anyone more suited to carrying it. Her mother or father, or maybe even Einfari. But it was all on her.

She looked up and saw that the moon had moved again. Time was passing.

"Toothless is still hanging in there," Maour said. "He hasn't seen any islands, and neither have we, so we don't know how much ground we've made up… but we must have made up some."

"And since we didn't see any islands, we know we're on the right path?" Ruffnut asked.

"This part of the ocean is pretty much empty, save for a few little islands," Maour explained. "It doesn't mean we're going exactly the same way, it just means we haven't strayed off in a totally different direction."

Or, Von added in her head, it just meant they didn't know how far off they were at the moment. She knew that she was going in vaguely the right way, Toothless could see the moon too and that gave her a heading, but small differences in direction became massive differences in destination.

All she could do was push herself harder and bear the crushing knowledge that, for the first time ever, something vitally important depended on her, and she might not be up to the task.

"Wait," Maour said urgently. "Okay, Toothless just saw an island in the distance."

'Are they setting down?' Von asked.

"No, they're going to keep flying," Maour reported. "But now we have a way to see how far away we are. You keep going like normal, I'll keep an eye out for it."

"I'll keep both eyes out for it," Ruffnut grumbled. "If we find it soon, does that mean I get a bathroom break that isn't ridiculously awkward?"

'We agreed not to talk about that,' Von groaned. There were some things one just didn't mention when flying long distances, and relieving oneself was on the top of that list.

"I'm just saying, it would be nice," Ruffnut grumbled. "Where is this island?"

"Ahead of us," Maour answered. "It's by how much that worries me."

Von nodded at that, and flapped a little harder. Every moment she spent flying without seeing the island was another moment she was going to somehow have to gain on them before the sun rose.

O-O-O

Toothless dangled from the Skrill's grip, uncomfortable, thirsty, and more worried by the moment. They had long since left the last island behind, and Von had yet to even reach it. His siblings were trying their hardest, but at this rate they wouldn't make it in time. The sky was beginning to lighten, an almost imperceptible change from black to the darkest grey.

"Toothless…" Maour's voice was low and worried. "We just found the island. It was off to our left, and we're correcting our course… but it doesn't look good."

Toothless shook his head wordlessly. Not looking good was a pleasant understatement; unless Von pulled out some miraculous second wind worthy of legend, she wasn't going to catch up fast enough. The moon was sinking into the ocean off to his left, and the sky brightening to his right. Von was only now reaching where his captors had been hours ago.

His only remaining hope was that there would be no islands, sea stacks, or any other kind of land for the Skrill to set down on. They didn't seem willing or able to ground him and Einn while flying, possibly for fear of an accident. It would only take a few well-timed claw slashes to put holes in even a Skrill's wings, and then they would be doomed. If they didn't just shock him senseless first, that was. He wasn't counting on being able to fight back when the time came, in the air or on the ground. They had the upper claw and weren't likely to give it up.

He stared at the horizon as the sun came up, hoping that the unbroken line between water and sky would remain unbroken long enough for Von to catch up…

Though he still didn't know what she would do once she did. The plan was for her to trail behind, close but out of sight, until they found a place to land. Then Maour would sneak in and fix his saddle… But that would require a distraction, lest the Skrill cripple him and Einn right away, and the only available distractions were Von or Ruffnut, neither of whom would be capable of handling two vicious Skrill on their own, or even together.

He wished he could talk to Maour. Their plan wasn't going to work, but he couldn't say that. The Skrill would shock him before he could get more than a couple of words out. Mental voice or not, it was near-impossible to talk when every muscle in his body was doing its best to contract until he was a tiny, cramped ball. There would be no lengthy discussion, and his brother didn't seem to see any problem with their vague plan, so it wouldn't happen without him, either.

A dark smudge appeared in the distance, and Toothless wanted to groan. It was an island, a small one but more than large enough for the purposes of these Skrill. He didn't recognize it specifically, even as they drew closer, but he knew it was one of the little hunks of rock and greenery on Maour's map, more than a night's flight out from the Isle.

"Okay, that's not good," Maour said in his head. "We're never going to make it in time. Toothless, I hope you have a plan you can't tell me."

Toothless thought about it for a moment, then nodded even though he had no idea. Maour was going to be stressed and worried as it was, there was no reason to worry him even more before something terrible actually happened. It would be bad enough then…

He could feel his wings straining against the Skrill's grip, even though breaking free would do absolutely no good. He might be able to fly with his pedal if the tailfin was somehow in working condition, but never fast enough to escape, or well enough to fight. But soon he might not be able to fly at all…

The Skrill passed over the island once, looking down at the tangle of trees, spit of clear land by one shore, and sheer cliffs that blocked all the others. It was tiny, taking only a dozen heartbeats to fly over at a decent pace, and they circled it in moments, doubling back to land on the shore.

'Good enough,' the one carrying Einn grunted. 'We resting here afterward, or are you up for another day?'

'Are you?' the Skrill carrying him shot back. 'After that storm, I could go for a week without sleeping.'

'Overestimate yourself and I will leave you to drown when you fall out of the sky,' the other warned. 'I can go until nightfall if we stop here long enough to ground them.'

'And so can I,' Toothless' captor growled. 'Don't pretend it's your decision. I will keep going, whether or not you say I can.'

'I don't care,' Einn's captor snapped, diving down to land on the shore. He hit the sand talons-first, and by extension Einn-first, and skidded a short distance atop Einn's limp form, flapping his wings for balance.

Toothless braced himself, but he was nonetheless unprepared for the impact. Sand sprayed across his face, and his underside felt scraped raw as the Skrill used his body to stop itself. His head ended up buried in the sand, his nostrils full of it, but before he could choke or even snort out the Skrill yanked him up again.

'What is the method for this?' his captor asked, eyeing the other Skrill. 'I have ideas, but I assume all of your experience is good for something other than gruesome stories.'

'Watch and learn.' A small sizzle of energy flickered under the other Skrill's talons, and Einn spasmed. His eyes fluttered closed-

'Idiot!' Toothless' captor snarled. 'What are you doing? You might kill it!'

'I barely put anything into it, this one is just hopeless,' Einn's captor snorted, leaping away from him. 'You'll need to put some effort in yours, though. It looks more resilient, and you're weak.'

'Keep talking like that-'

The other Skrill roared mightily, the noise amplified by a scattered set of cracks that made Toothless wince, lightning dancing across its back. Toothless' captor roared right back at him, matching the noise, or trying to.

'You will not shut me up!' Toothless' captor seethed.

'I was not trying to,' the older Skrill snorted. 'That was to draw out anyone nearby.'

Toothless' captor growled, sounding utterly frustrated and more than a little angry, and the talons gripping him tightened uncomfortably. 'Why bother? We could be done and gone before anyone even noticed us, if this skimpy little rock had any life in the first place.'

Toothless was inclined to agree with his angry captor's criticism, though he was very much for anything that delayed the inevitable. It didn't make much sense, especially as he knew for a fact no dragons lived anywhere nearby except a solitary Scauldron to the Southwest, far from here.

There was a rustling in the trees closest to them, and a Nadder stuck his or her head out, startling Toothless and his captor. He flinched once from surprise, then again as a small shock ran through him, and stared pleadingly at the dragon that shouldn't be there.

'Are we intruding?' the Nadder asked in a high but definitely male voice, hopping out of the trees and staring at the four of them. 'We are travelling, if this is your island we apologize.'

Toothless winced, expecting the Nadder to be roared down, or struck by lightning, or just ripped limb from limb.

'We are also travelling,' the older Skrill said casually, his voice dangerous but restrained, as if redirecting the danger away from the one he was speaking to… for the moment. 'Cleaning up some refuse. There does not seem to be anyone living in this area, aside from some humans you would do better to fly well clear of. If you are looking for somewhere to settle, you could do much worse than here…'

'Or much better,' Toothless' captor added. 'You might go to our nest.'

'We would like to live alone,' the Nadder said nervously, ducking his head and glancing at Toothless. Toothless tried to struggle, but another, much more powerful surge of energy ran through him, and he fell limp, hoping his defeated expression would convey the same message.

'That might be for the best,' the older Skrill said. 'You would be doing us a favor by leaving this place. Now.'

'That favor is happily given,' the Nadder chirped, leaping back into the trees and fleeing on his ungainly two legs, his wings flapping as he retreated. Moments later, two adult Nadders and one smaller one fled, flying off toward the rising sun.

"I was hoping they would intervene, but you did the right thing in not trying to ask for help," Maour said quietly, reminding Toothless that his brother was listening and watching. He had never left, not since the Skrill had seen the island, though he had been quiet. It was both a comfort and not, because him not speaking meant he didn't have any good ideas on how to get out of this… but at least he was there.

'Yes,' the older Skrill rumbled mockingly, tossing its head back. 'Come with us. Do you enjoy the prattling of their kind? Or the endless attempts the new catch would make to turn them on us?'

'It would have made us look good, and they would have been happy at our nest,' the younger Skrill snarled. 'And I am just about fed up with your attitude. You are flying for a thrashing.'

'The storm must still be clouding your senses,' the older Skrill snorted.

'It's clouding yours too, then,' Toothless' captor retorted. 'You've been wasting the last of its power throughout this whole flight, and I have not. You will lose.'

'Let's find out, fledgling!' The older Skrill burst into action, roughly tossing Einn aside and lunging straight for Toothless and his captor. Lightning preceded him, jabbing out like spikes, and Toothless was shocked yet again as they clashed, tumbling off of him. He spasmed for a few moments, wondering whether so many repeated shocks were doing anything permanent to his body, and tried to regain his wits. The erratic flashing and roaring from behind him wasn't doing him any favors…

But in its own way, it was a great gift all on its own. He began crawling, his legs stiff and numb, and then limping as he could, toward the forest.

"Get out of there, we'll come back for Einn later," Maour was saying, urging him on. "Don't try to fly, I can feel your pedal hanging loose, it's broken, that's just a waste of time, find somewhere to dig in and play for time."

The earsplitting roars and blasts of power behind him began to abate, lessening in intensity and cutting off abruptly more often than not, and Toothless stumbled behind the first thin, wind-bowed tree he came across. It wasn't even wide enough to hide him, and he could remember just how tiny the island was from above. He knew the Skrill wouldn't stop hunting him.

A thousand thoughts flew through his mind, and he struggled to think of a way out, a way to run and hide and actually escape the Skrill, or somehow fight them off… or do something else. Something crazy. The idea was new, it had just come to him, and he didn't have time to explain it to Maour or weigh the options. It was a huge gamble… But not actually a gamble at all, not if he assumed just hiding would not work. Not when they could burn the island down, dig him out of the ashes, and ground him anyway.

He turned around, noticing the lack of noise behind him, and saw both Skrill, standing side by side, leering at him. The younger one bore a cracked spine, the tip hanging off awkwardly, but aside from that there was no hint that they had been fighting a moment ago.

'Go on,' the older one hissed, lifting its talons and looking down at them. 'You have ten heartbeats. We can settle our disagreement over a hunt.'

That killed one of his two plans, so Toothless committed to the other. He raised his tail and stared at the younger one. 'I'm not running or fighting. I'm grounding myself.'

He slammed his tail into the tree, false fin first, and smacked it askew. The second hit knocked the delicate assembly off. There was no time for subtlety, no time to try and make the damage less severe, so he turned in a tight circle to violently rip it off with his teeth before doing the same with the straps still securing his saddle.

The Skrill watched him, perhaps confused, or amused, or just willing to wait before their sadistic hunt began again. He didn't care, except to make sure he removed all of the saddle and kicked it away before turning to face them. 'I am grounded. I needed that to fly.'

"It was already broken…" Maour murmured. "Nice one. I really hope this works."

Aside from his brother's comment - which was thankfully inaudible to the Skrill - nobody responded to his declaration. He felt even more vulnerable without even the false hope of his tailfin and saddle, and had to resist the urge to turn tail and run. This wouldn't work if the younger Skrill felt like hurting him because he was annoying. It might not work even now.

'I don't like clever usurpers,' the older Skrill snarled. 'It's lying.'

The younger Skrill leaped forward a heartbeat before the older, talons out, and Toothless hunkered down, refusing to flee or even look away. He rolled with the impact, ending upside-down in the younger Skrill's clutches. The talons dug into his back, and the Skrill snarled down at him.

They were airborne without a word, and the older Skrill followed them up. He was carried high above the clouds, then let go. He tumbled out into the open air, spread his wings, and instinctively tried to pull out of the fall. It was no good, of course, his tail immediately sabotaged him, and he didn't even try to glide, opting instead to fall helplessly. It was a test, he had to be helpless…

The wind whistled past him as he fell, and the ocean began to rise up to meet him. He looked up-

Neither of the Skrill had come down to grab him again.

"Try to glide!" Maour all but yelled, and Toothless was already flailing about, despite knowing deep down that no matter how much he slowed his descent he would never make it back to land. His wings caught air, and his plummet slowed, but it wasn't controllable, not enough to get him anything except a slower fall. He shrieked helplessly as he finally hit the water, the cold drawing one last noise out of him, and tried to remain afloat. A wave immediately swamped him, getting into his nose and eyes, and he dipped below the surface.

Talons came down into the water with him, and he was brutally jerked out into the open air. He was bleeding where he had been grabbed, and his chest ached like someone had sat on it while holding a mountain. He hacked up a small fountain of salty sea water, and began to cough.

'Seems it was not a lie,' his captor and rescuer growled. 'Odd. Though this one did have a human on it, so oddness is to be expected.'

'I don't care,' the older Skrill thundered, landing on the shore nearby. His talons pressed Einn, who seemed to be unconscious, into the sand once more. 'We're breaking the wings anyway, just to be sure.'

'No, we're not,' Toothless' captor growled. 'This one is mine, and I say that I would rather not deal with an obnoxiously whiny prisoner all the way back if I do not have to. The missing tailfin is sufficient, you could even just tear one off of yours.'

'You do what you want, whelp, and on your horns be it if you lose your prey because of it. I do not listen to Usurpers.' The older Skrill leaned down, roughly rolled Einn onto his back, and clamped his teeth onto the old bite-scar on one wing-

Toothless averted his eyes an instant before the sickening crack and screech, and kept them down through the second crack and howling that followed. He felt incredibly relieved, and even more guilty about being relieved when he had only saved himself. In the back of his head, he felt Maour tuning out his sense of hearing, though sight and feeling remained in use.

'I am not sparing you that out of pity,' his captor hissed quietly, speaking to him and him alone. 'I am avoiding it because it would be annoying. Do not think for a second that I care whether you suffer or not, usurper.'

Toothless was of the opinion that if he needed to be told not to think it, then the Skrill wasn't doing a good job of proving it in other ways, but in this case he was grateful not to have his captor's lack of empathy confirmed in a more visceral way.

'Anger me, and I will hurt you,' his captor continued. 'Try to escape, and I will hurt you badly. Prove your grounded state a lie, and I will rip your wings off before passing you over to him.'

Toothless nodded slowly. He believed the Skrill would hurt him, though he wasn't sure if they would tear his wings off and risk him bleeding out if they were so careful about keeping him and Einn alive for reasons unknown. The essence of the threat remained the same regardless; he would suffer if he tried anything.

Which meant that when he did try something, he had to be doubly sure to either succeed, or at least not get caught in the process. Einn's howling was a stark reminder of just what he had narrowly avoided, and what he might still get if he made one wrong move.

O-O-O

Maour clutched his stomach, all too aware of every little swaying motion Von made as she flew. His gut churned with worry and outright disgust, and he was thankful he could keep an eye on what Toothless saw without having to bear the sight of Einn's broken wings. Hearing it had been bad enough; he had no desire to see it.

"What happened?" Ruffnut demanded. "You went quiet!"

'Yes, what happened?' Von echoed much more fearfully. 'You said he had convinced them not to hurt him.'

"They broke his wings," Maour whimpered.

Von roared angrily and surged forward with a great burst of speed. Maour instinctively hunched down with a cry of surprise. 'I'll hunt them down for what they did to my brother!' Von snarled. 'I'll break their wings! And then I'll–'

"Not Toothless!" Maour frantically yelped. "Slow down, conserve your strength. They didn't hurt him. He tore off his tailfin to make himself flightless, and they accepted that."

Von complied, but she glared back at him for getting her riled up, and Maour realized how he had misspoken. 'So, they only broke Einn's wings?'

"Yes," Maour softly said, rubbing her wing shoulders. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Take some very deep breaths and just glide for a moment to recover."

Von gave a little irritated growl, but she did just that. Maour tried not to wonder how much that burst of effort had cost her in terms of endurance.

"They didn't hurt him." He repeated, ignoring the shallow cuts Toothless endured from his rough handling, for the sake of Von's sanity. He took a moment to look through Toothless' eyes to see sand under his face. "But they did break Einn's wings." For the third time, if Eldurhjarta was correct, and it seemed she probably was if Einn had escaped these same captors once before. One break when he was initially caught, another to correct his wings and escape, and now a third.

"Well, he didn't have a fancy saddle and a preexisting condition," Ruffnut said callously. "Too bad for him. Maybe next time he'll think twice about flying into thunderstorms."

'We have to catch up to them and somehow free him if he is going to get a next time,' Von rumbled. 'Maour, have they left that island yet? Are they going to spend the day there?'

Maour could see the sand shifting under Toothless' gaze, and then the shore falling out from under him. He watched long enough to confirm that the Skrill was taking Toothless out over the water, then tentatively checked what Toothless was hearing... A low moaning from Einn in the distance, punctuated by periodic crackles of lightning and the occasional mocking rumble from the other Skrill.

He came back to his own sense of hearing as soon as he confirmed that nothing useful was being said. "No, it looks like they're going to fly until nightfall." He had heard the Skrill say as much when they landed, but now it was confirmed that they were actually going through with it.

"Man, these dragons can go for days," Ruffnut said.

"They talk like this is normal," Maour confirmed. "But they also talked about overextending, so they do not have boundless energy. They will have to sleep sometime."

'But until then, I will be getting further and further behind,' Von moaned. 'I'm not fast enough.'

"Yes, you are," Maour assured her. He wasn't quite as confident as he hoped he sounded, but there were reasons to hope she would catch up. The Skrill seemed to be coasting on energy from the thunderstorm, and once that dried up they might be slower, or at least less prone to flying two days and a night without any rest at all. Von would only gain strength as she grew used to carrying weight… and they only needed to get close enough that when the Skrill did rest, she could push through and close the gap all at once. It was possible.

It was possible, and the alternative was even worse. Going back to the Isle now would be giving the Skrill another two or three day lead, and they might knock Toothless out at any time and cut the only connection anyone had to him. They had to save him before that happened.

O-O-O

It was a little past midday when Von reached the island. She set down on the shore and immediately went back up into the air, presumably for fish now that she wasn't burdened with them…

And also possibly to hide her feelings about how long it had taken to reach this place. Maour frowned at nothing in particular as he walked through the edge of the forest. His sister wasn't used to this kind of stress, and it was wearing on her. She hadn't made up any time - if anything, she had lost a little - but that was no reason to get discouraged.

He checked in with Toothless again, and saw the same view of endless ocean, a Skrill flying up and to the right, and Einn dangling limply. He had quieted down, but every once in a while he would moan pitifully.

Neither of Maour's siblings was doing well when it came to morale, and he considered it his duty to cheer them both up as much as possible. "Hey, Toothless, check this out," he said, returning to his own senses and almost immediately spotting the saddle that Toothless had torn off.

He felt Toothless accessing his vision, and leaned over to examine the torn tailfin and connecting rods. "This is broken but there are replacements, the canvas needs to be replaced again but I always bring plenty of spares… It's all fixable." He wasn't even exaggerating; his brother would see through that, and there was no need to in this case. It was all easily replaced, and the bag with all of the spare parts, built into the saddle's back end, was fully intact.

"Hey, found it?" Ruffnut called out, wandering into view. "I found some blood and a bunch of scuff marks in the sand."

Maour shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, that's probably where the Skrill fought." Or where Einn had been grounded, but he didn't want to talk about that. "If you need a replacement bandage, I have some here."

"And a water skin!" Ruffnut crowed, reaching over to snag the full skin. "We needed one of these."

"There are more lining the interior of both saddles," Maour revealed. "They're empty and serving as padding right now, but if there's any fresh water here we can fill them." All of his little optimizations over the years were coming in handy now, and he was glad he had taken the time to implement them.

"Things would have been much worse if we hadn't come prepared," he said, voicing his thoughts on the matter. "We have a way to carry more than enough water, when we get to Toothless I'll be able to get him into the air, and…" He reached down and unhooked his scythe from the saddle. "And when we catch up, we'll be ready for them."

Ruffnut stopped guzzling from the water skin long enough to brandish her makeshift dagger. "Totally ready."

Maour eyed the haphazard assembly of a shard of rock, a piece of leather, and a stick. He had put it together for her on the off chance that she would need it, but it wasn't exactly his best work. "There's a real knife in the saddlebag," he offered.

"Upgrade!" Ruffnut yelled, throwing his attempt at a weapon over her shoulder and rushing to the bag.

'Hey!' Von walked up behind them, fish in her mouth. 'You almost hit me!'

"Got to work on my aim, then," Ruffnut huffed, ruffling through the saddlebag.

'Maybe I should work on my aim,' Von growled.

"Maybe we should not get on each others' nerves," Maour objected, leaping to stand between them. "Ruffnut, don't throw things at Von. Von, don't take offense from the stupid things Ruffnut does and says."

"Guilty as charged," Ruffnut drawled.

'Thank you,' Von huffed, turning away. 'Fish. We will eat, and then we will keep flying.'

"No, we won't," Maour said kindly. "We'll eat, but then Ruffnut and I need to stretch our legs, and you need more rest."

'I just rested a little while ago,' Von objected.

"Wasn't that 'little while' near the start of last night?" Ruffnut mused. She was still digging through the saddlebag, though the knife had been near the top, and Maour got the sinking feeling that he was going to find some random little things missing when he next took stock of his supplies.

"Ruffnut, could you go practice stabbing things?" Maour asked. "On the other side of the island." He really didn't have it in him to be subtle right about now, and she was not helping.

"Thank you, that is a great idea." Ruffnut leaped up, waved his work knife around, and jogged off into the forest.

'Do we have to give her something sharp and dangerous?' Von asked forlornly. 'She is going to be sitting on my back for the foreseeable future. What if she decides she's in charge and puts the knife to your throat?'

"Ruffnut is... chaotic, but she's not stupid," Maour sighed. "She's on our side, she's not going to do that. We're all just tired and a little cranky because of it. Don't take any of this too hard."

'How can I not?' Von whined, pressing her head to his chest. 'That could have been my brother,' she huffed, gesturing with a flick of her nose to where Einn's blood had soaked into the sand from his broken wings, 'and it would have been my failure. He still could be hurt, and I need to catch up but these stupid Skrill can fly forever and I have to keep stopping to rest…'

"It's okay, it's not that bad," Maour said quietly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Really, it's not. We can keep after him, we can do this. You can do this. Just do not give up hope."

'Everyone is counting on me and I cannot live up to it,' Von whined. 'I want to, but I can't. You and Toothless and even Mom are all used to life-or-death stakes and being relied on, I'm not. I just want it to be over but it isn't and won't be because I'm slow and tired.'

"It's okay," Maour repeated. He could feel Toothless watching, and wished his brother was able to speak and pass on some direct encouragement. His words would carry more weight, but it wasn't worth a shock.. "I know he doesn't want you to be mad at yourself for things out of your control. None of this is your fault. We are relying on you, but nobody is going to blame you no matter what happens."

'It does not feel like that,' Von sniffed.

Maour crouched, and Von lowered herself to the ground with him. "We don't blame hatchlings for not sleeping through the night," he said as he awkwardly sat down. "Why not?"

'They can't help waking up,' Von huffed. 'I know, but I could be faster if I was stronger.'

"Which is out of your control as of now," Maour said, carefully skirting around the idea of training to fly while bearing riders, like how Eldurburg's raw flight strength was unsurpassed after having carried Fishlegs for so long. In hindsight, it would have helped, but it had not been obvious back when such a thing could have been done. Nobody, including him, had expected anything like this to happen.

'That's… not much better.' Von sighed and let her wing shoulders slump, laying her head across Maour's lap. 'You will not blame me?'

"I don't blame anyone for this," Maour said firmly. Maybe Einn, a little, because he had done something stupid and intentionally endangered himself. Nobody else. 'I just want us all to do the best we can. For you, right now, that means resting when you need it and flying as well as you can, nothing more. Certainly not blaming yourself, even if we cannot close the gap." He was beginning to suspect that Toothless was going to have to do something on his end to slow the Skrill if they kept travelling at this rate, but Von didn't need to worry about that yet.

'Okay… I can do that…' Von sighed loudly and shifted her head off his lap. 'You will wake me?'

"When it is time to go," he agreed.

'Good. Knock me out.'

Maour reached a hand out, then paused. "You're stronger than you realize," he said, patting her forehead, "I speak for myself and Toothless when I say I couldn't ask for a better sister. I know Mom would be so proud of you."

Von swallowed. 'I… I'm…' she closed her eyes and gave his arm a little lick. 'Thanks, brother.'

Maour reached a hand underneath her chin, then paused, waiting for her to nod her approval before scratching her knock-out spot to send her to sleep.

Soon, he would go and find Ruffnut, and make sure she didn't harbor any real resentment at being told to make herself scarce. But for the moment, he just wanted to sit with his sister, check in with his brother, and relax.

This chase promised to be one of balancing fears, irritations, and stress all together, lest someone fall apart, to say nothing of what they would do when they actually caught up with Toothless. He was going to have to make sure everyone remained calm and hopeful…

And he had to do the same for himself, because nobody around was in a position to reassure him. Even though a part of him wanted to freak out, to suggest that Toothless try accessing his buried powers to control the Skrill as they suspected might be possible, or any number of outlandish plans that were unlikely to succeed and almost certain to scare Von or weaken Toothless' trust in him.

Von had to fly as best she could. Toothless had to wait, listen, and watch for an opportunity, whatever form that might take. Ruffnut had to not cause trouble and maybe pitch in with some out-of-the-box suggestions on occasion.

He had to hold them all together, coordinate, and use what he had to save his brother.

O-O-O

Ruffnut held Maour's knife by the tip, waving it around lazily. Her butt was numb despite Maour's attempts to make the back end of Von's saddle more comfortable, and if she scooted forward she would be pressed against Maour's back, which was just as uncomfortable thanks to the weird, bulky mass set into his armor.

She wished she had brought her helmet; Maour was outfitted for a war, and here she was with nothing but a work knife and an empty space in the back of her head.

Thinking about her lack of connection to Boom made her want to stab something. It was bad luck, a fairly reasonable punishment enacted at the worst possible time, and now she was further from her dragon friends and brother than ever before, caught on a mission she couldn't leave.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was just Tuffnut she was missing; absence made the guard lower for when she returned. But not having a connection to Boom was more constant, a lack she kept turning to whenever she was bored, only to find it empty. Not having Tuffnut was missing a partner in crime, but not having Boom was like missing an eye, too. It was wearing on her, more with every passing day.

"Hey," she said, breaking the uneasy silence. "Maour, run by me what you need to make a link."

Maour didn't respond, so she poked the back of his head with the hilt of her knife.

"What?" he asked.

"The link," she repeated. "What needs to be there to make it?" She hadn't paid much attention back when they first put it into place, and it had only needed to be redone a few times, maybe once a year since then. Maour and Toothless had probably never broken theirs in the eight years since they made it, but being Thorstons and Mykurs had occupational hazards.

"Eye contact and physical contact," Maour said. "And a Night Fury who knows what to do. Why?"

"Just wondering," she said idly, setting Maour's knife on her lap and leaning back on her hands.

'Hands on the saddle,' Von said curtly.

'Why? I could give you a scale rub.' Ruffnut scrunched her fingers to emphasize her point. She would do it, too; anything to get away from the boredom.

'Because you are messing with my sub-fins and threatening to crash us into the ocean,' Von growled. 'Stop that!'

Ruffnut twisted around and saw that her hands were nowhere near the little fins jutting out by Von's rear end, but she withdrew her hands anyway. Von was nowhere near as fun as Boom on a normal day, and this wasn't a normal day. Things were already tense without getting her ride angry this early in the night's flight.

She tried to reach out to Boom, intending some witty comment, and once again noticed the absence in the back of her head. It was a frustrating thing, like an itch she couldn't scratch.

"Has anyone ever tried to bring it back without touch or eye contact?" she asked hopefully. "That seems like something Fishlegs would try just to check."

"I don't know of anything like that," Maour said doubtfully. "It shouldn't be possible, else the Queen would have done it for Toothless."

"I'm going to try it anyway," Ruffnut declared. Maybe nobody had been driven crazy with boredom for an entire day with nothing else to do but try the impossible just for fun. She could be persistent.

'If you could reconnect with Boom, we could call for help without having to go back,' Von said hopefully.

"That wouldn't mean we catch up to Toothless any faster," Ruffnut reasoned. "You still have to fly fast enough."

Maour turned around just to glare at her, and Von huffed sadly. Ruffnut shrugged her shoulders at him. What did he expect? She called it like she saw it, and as best she could tell, they were keeping up, at best. At worst, the Skrill were pulling a little further ahead with every passing night. They were in for a long trip at this rate…

Which just made her feel the loss of her brother and her best friend all the more. She crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and leaned back. There was a little empty patch in the back of her mind, something that shouldn't be, and she wanted it fixed. It was a little thing compared to everything else going on, but it wasn't little to her.

Chapter Text

Toothless knew what it felt like to be truly helpless, unable to so much as twitch under his own will. His current situation wasn't exactly that, but it felt far too similar for his comfort. He could move, nothing was controlling his mind… but nothing he did would set him free, not without also dooming him in some way.

The massive talons clutching him were strong, and biting them wouldn't cause any real damage, but he could try squirming out. The Skrill carrying him was not invincible, nothing was stopping him from doing his best to open it from chest to tail with his claws. Nothing except that it probably wouldn't work, getting him shocked and possibly dropped, and if it did work, he was still out over an endless ocean with no allies and nothing to stop him from drowning with the body of his captor.

Plans that ended in his own death weren't acceptable, he didn't need Maour to tell him that. That would be letting the Skrill win, his own inherent sense of self-preservation aside. Just because these weren't willing to kill him didn't mean their desires were any different. Dying would be giving them what they hoped for.

He sighed, quietly so as to not be heard by his captor, and closed his eyes, turning the problem over in his mind, seeking new ways to approach it. There had to be some way to turn two grounded Night Furies being carried to destinations unknown by two large Skrill into a successful escape. He just couldn't see it, despite entire days dedicated to thinking about it.

Each day began with the Skrill throwing fish at him and Einn, and snatching them up the moment they finished eating. Being picked up was always accompanied by a shock, just to ensure he didn't struggle, and the Skrill were more than capable of shrugging off a blast they were expecting, so he had no chance of shooting them out of the sky then.

After that, the day would go by, painfully slow and boring. No speaking was allowed, and nothing Toothless could think of would elicit anything from his captors but a shock. The way he was being held, he couldn't fire on either of the Skrill, and even if he could, it wouldn't do any good.

The evening, or sometimes the middle of the night if the Skrill were feeling competitive, when they were focused on one-upping one another was the best time for him to try something, but that only meant it was slightly less hopeless than any other time. The Skrill were careful to always put him and Einn somewhere they could never leave on their own, and to sleep somewhere sufficiently far away that they couldn't be killed or knocked off with a blast.

Night was a chance to talk freely to Maour, and to Einn for that matter, but neither was very useful. Einn refused to respond, acting as if he was asleep with his eyes open, and Maour wasn't present and thus couldn't actually do anything to help except talk, which he did enough of in the day.

In order to do something to the Skrill, Toothless would need to miraculously regrow his tailfin, or somehow heal Einn's wings and utter apathy. Even then, he didn't think it would be enough; he suspected the Skrill slept in shifts. It was what he would have done, just to be safe. There were other dragons in the world aside from the four of them, though they'd chanced across none aside from the single Nadder family right at the start of the chase.

He sighed to himself, once again coming to the conclusion that the Skrill had thought of everything. It wasn't hard, when his options were so limited. There were no outside factors so far, nothing new he could take advantage of. The only advantage he had was currently at least a day behind, trying her best but just not capable of keeping up.

A quick check to his brother's senses confirmed that Maour was still asleep, his vision an all-encompassing blackness that was only reassuring because being able to access it at all meant he was still alive. Unable to talk at the moment, but alive and well.

'Wake yours,' Einn's captor said loudly.

Toothless immediately opened his eyes and squirmed in the grip of his captor, ensuring that the Skrill knew a shock wouldn't be necessary. The one small mercy of this whole, miserable trip was that he was being carried by the less bloodthirsty Skrill. So long as he did as told, he could avoid being shocked altogether, aside from the apparently unconscious little jolts that ran down the Skrill's talons on occasion.

'Sleeping?' his captor asked neutrally.

'Closed eyes,' the other Skrill growled. 'I don't have that problem with mine.'

'Yours barely lives,' the younger Skrill growled. 'That is like bragging that your fish does not flop because it is dead.'

'Dead is better,' the older Skrill said confidently.

Toothless worried that Einn might be in agreement with that statement; he certainly hadn't made any attempt to escape, or kill his captors, or anything aside from the bare minimums needed to continue existing. They had been captives together for days - he didn't remember the exact number, more than ten as that was where he had stopped counting - and yet hadn't exchanged so much as a meaningful look, let alone words or anything passing for communication.

'For them, not for us,' his captor - they had never used names for each other, so Toothless didn't even know if they had any - said. 'I see an island up ahead. Stop or keep going?'

'Keep going,' the older Skrill said dismissively. 'It is not even fully dark yet. I want to fly until midnight.'

'Done,' the younger agreed. Toothless would have slumped, were he not already as limp as he could get. The Skrill had proven, over and over again in this long pursuit, that they could match or even exceed Von's speed. What was worse, they had a habit of one-upping each other when it came to endurance, and every time one of them pushed to keep going like had just happened, Von and the others lost ground.

If something was going to be done, it would be up to him to make it happen.

O-O-O

"They're both flightless," Ruffnut reasoned, drawing her words out to waste time. "If we attack while the Skrill are carrying them, the Skrill will just drop them and we lose no matter what else happens."

'I know that,' Von grumbled. 'I was not proposing we attack in the middle of nowhere.'

"No, but you were thinking it," Ruffnut said confidently, though she didn't actually believe Von was contemplating such a stupid move. Von was no Myrkur, the tricky side of her mind - Tuffnut insisted the mind had sides for some incomprehensible reason, she missed Tuffnut enough to agree with him - was rusted and dusty.

Ruffnut, lacking anything else to do, had decided she was going to knock Von into shape with words alone. "But have you thought about what else that means?"

'It means we cannot attack while they are carrying my brother and Einn,' Von huffed. 'What else could it possibly mean?'

"Think about it," Ruffnut said, leaning back to stare at the boring, cloudy sky. Von wasn't even adventurous enough to fly above the clouds, despite having Maour to tell her if she overshot or otherwise lost her way. It wasn't like they were close enough to catch up at a moment's notice, anyway. "What else could it mean? What is wrong with that thinking?"

A long moment of silence, maybe twenty beats of Von's wings, passed between them. Maour was asleep in the saddle right in front of Ruffnut, so she wasn't surprised he wasn't answering her challenge, but she had expected Von to get it quickly enough.

'I don't get it,' Von finally said.

"Ugh, okay, fine," Ruffnut groaned, resisting the urge to stick her hands behind her and lean back. Von didn't like that, and antagonizing her only conversational partner didn't seem like a fun idea. "Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

'Yes, do that,' Von growled. 'So you can prove you are not just asking vague questions and then claiming whatever I think of as your original idea.'

"That only works on someone who thinks I know what I'm talking about," Ruffnut said dismissively. "Okay, think like a trickster."

'I am obnoxious, dreaded by all who like peace and quiet, and I have an irrational urge to seek out a like-minded sibling,' Von drawled.

"Yes, but not that," Ruffnut chided, a smile crossing her face. She would rather have Von sniping at her than whining; she was going through a low-stakes conflict withdrawal. That was how Boom would have put it if she was trying to mock Berg, anyway…

'Explain,' Von demanded.

"This is like trying to steal from someone you don't know when you want to annoy them, not actually profit off of it," Ruffnut elaborated, sensing that she was pushing Von's patience a bit too far. "You have to know what they value, and what they'll happily drop if it means catching you faster. One way to figure that out is to watch how they handle what they're carrying."

'And in this case, we are looking at how the Skrill carry my brother?' Von asked. Ruffnut could all but hear the tentative hope in her voice; she really needed to work on hiding her emotions better. Anyone looking to lead her on could easily find out where to push and pull.

"Yes, exactly," Ruffnut said. "Skrill are destructive marks, they don't really keep things. We know they should have gutted Einn weeks ago." She left Toothless out of it for Von's sake, and for her own; Maour was a little too vehement in keeping Von's spirits up. He probably would have cut this conversation off by now if he was awake.

'And since they have not…' Von trailed off.

"That means they value Toothless and Einn," Ruffnut said. "Meaning they wouldn't drop them at the first sign of trouble. Attacking with nowhere safe to leave them might work."

'I am not even going to ask why you spent so long beating around the bush about that,' Von groaned. 'I see your point, but I do not agree. Just because they have not killed yet does not mean they would mind doing it. It's too risky to take that chance.'

"Just making the point," Ruffnut assured her.

'Was the real point that a thousand words where twenty could work is needlessly annoying?' Von asked.

"Nah, the more words the better," Ruffnut shot back.

"The better to wake me with," Maour said, leaning forward and stretching his arms out. He had just woken up, but Ruffnut could tell he was already tense. She resisted the urge to prod at his back; Tuffnut would relax by knocking her out of the saddle, but he wasn't Tuffnut and Von might not be able to catch her.

"They're headed toward an island," he said after a drawn-out yawn. "Arguing about whether it's late enough to stop for the night. Sounds like they will."

'There are some sea stacks out over there,' Von huffed, briefly banking to the right to indicate where she was looking.

"I see them… I recognize them, too," Maour said solemnly.

'How long?' Von asked quietly.

'Yesterday, early morning,' Maour replied.

Ruffnut groaned as loudly as she could; the other two might be hiding their disappointment, but she had no such inclination. That meant Von was two days and a night behind the Skrill now. The gap between them was only getting bigger, and they had long since passed into unknown territory, far to the North of all the islands she knew. North of everything Maour knew too, which was a much more impressive accomplishment given he spent time staring at maps.

There was no turning back, though. They would never be able to find Toothless again if they lost the trail that badly. He could give Maour a direction of travel, and what his surroundings looked like, but that was only useful while they were on the move.

Such thoughts had run through her mind a hundred times before, and they were no more comforting this time around than the last. She was seriously considering asking to be abandoned at the next good island they came across, if there was one. Maybe Von could catch up with less of a burden to carry. At this point, she would be willing to take one for the team… so long as taking one for the team also meant she got to do something other than sit in a saddle and lose a chase day in and day out.

"They've seen something on the island," Maour said suddenly. "A village."

O-O-O

'That makes this annoying,' Toothless' captor growled. He had gone dark, for lack of a better term, all of the little snaps and crackles of excess lightning disappearing. Toothless hadn't even known that was something the Skrill could control prior to now.

'What, that?' the older Skrill asked, eyeing the flickering lights and unnatural shapes dotting one side of the long, flat island. It was too far still to see much, though that was changing with every beat of the Skrills' wings. 'Just raze it to the ground.'

'Who will guard the Usurpers while we do that?' the younger asked. 'We both need to be there for it to be easy.'

'I might like a challenge,' the older one said casually 'But I have a better idea. These worthless excuses for Usurpers are flightless, and this island lacks any sort of cover. Drop them at one side, destroy the other before they can do anything, and then tomorrow we can enjoy tracking them down and capturing them all over again before we leave.'

"That could be an opportunity," Maour said hopefully. "Find somewhere to hide and stall for time."

Toothless had just been thinking the same thing; he blinked twice in rapid succession, the agreed-upon signal for 'yes'. Maour had worked out a whole collection of ways for him to communicate soundlessly. Talking was still punishable by being shocked, not to mention the dangers of discussing his plans for escape within earshot of his captors, however one-sided the conversation would seem to them.

'I like that plan,' the younger Skrill said, 'but it sounds to me like you just want an excuse to switch captives.'

'We're more than halfway home,' the older Skrill shot back. 'I want to play with yours before we get there.'

'If you catch him before I do, then fine,' the younger hummed. 'But if I get him first, you will stop bothering me about it.'

'Deal,' the Skrill buzzed eagerly.

Toothless mentally amended his plan; he was going to stall for as much time as possible, and then run right into the clutches of the younger Skrill if at all possible. He pitied Einn, constantly subjected to random little shocks whenever his captor grew bored, but not enough to switch out with him and bear whatever the Skrill would do to someone he considered strong enough to take it.

Not that the younger Skrill was that much better than the elder; Toothless knew all too well that he was avoiding pain only because he was cooperating. He didn't doubt for a moment that either would slit his throat if they felt free to do so. The relative kindness of his captor was just a lack of sadistic tendencies, nothing more.

And he wasn't even sure of that, since both Skrill seemed eager to go slaughter an entire human village. It was a small one, maybe two dozen buildings and a tiny dock, so small he felt confident in saying he could have taken it himself if given reason to do so. He had no idea why the Skrill felt it would be dangerous for only one of them to attack. He didn't know why they were intending to attack at all, actually, aside from the obvious motivators of boredom and a general dislike of humans.

"I think I see some cliffs," Maour observed as the Skrill flew around to approach the island from the far side. "Try looking for caves there once they let you go."

Toothless didn't see any caves, but he supposed that was the point. If they were visible from the air, it wouldn't take much time to find him. He needed to hide out for at least a few days, if Von was going to have any chance of catching up.

Then again, the Skrill were still suspicious about his tail, so they might fly off, assuming he had managed to flee the island. It would be a safe bet that Einn would be incapable of saying anything to them. However, that might put Von in danger, but he could tell her which way they had gone, and she could avoid them and come to the island, where Maour could fix his tail and he could actually fly away.

He hadn't let himself give up hope, never that, but having an actual, workable plan made him feel great. Even more so when that plan relied on him, not on his sister pushing herself day in and day out to no avail. Maour was doing his best to keep everyone hopeful and motivated, but he could almost see the weight of responsibility slowly crushing her-

The sudden lack of talons holding him up occurred to Toothless a heartbeat before he hit the ground and skidded to a stop in the thankfully soft, springy grass of an untended field. Einn hit the ground beside him like a rock, not moving at all.

'No food tonight,' the older Skrill hummed, landing in front of them. There was a mean look in his eyes, meaner than usual. 'No leaving the island.'

The younger Skrill landed next to him. 'I just thought of something,' he said. 'They might fire on us while we're getting rid of the humans.'

'What?' the older hissed. 'You thought we were leaving them awake for the actual attack?'

Toothless had no time to react to the swift lunge. A talon smacked down on his head, knocking him to the ground. He thrashed wildly, madly desperate to avoid being knocked unconscious, to preserve his precious link with Maour, but something slammed into his head and all went black.

O-O-O

A heavy, thundering headache dragged Toothless back to reality. He pawed feebly at the air above his head, trying in vain to stop whoever was thumping his head over and over again… and then slowly realized that nothing was there, the pain was entirely internal.

He opened his eyes, saw double, and closed them again, holding back the urge to throw up. The Skrill fed him and Einn whatever they could get from shocking the water once or twice, and while that usually meant he wasn't going hungry, it wasn't consistent enough for him to be wasting food.

He lay in the grass and dirt for a time, waiting for his headache to reside. It was cold out, far colder than he was used to, and while he could hear flames crackling in the distance, they weren't close enough to warm him.

He knew what the flames had to be, just as he knew why his link to Maour was gone; thinking about it was beyond him at first, but once the pain began to subside…

This island was the only place his siblings would know to look for him. They were at least a day away, probably more like two if Von didn't fly herself halfway to death to reach him sooner. If he wasn't here when they arrived, they wouldn't know where to go next, and while the Skrill were keeping to a mostly straight course, it wasn't straight enough for Von to follow without landmarks. Landmarks he couldn't provide anymore.

He forced himself up and his eyes open, weathering the renewed nausea and blurry afterimages that came whenever he looked around. There was, as he had suspected, a roaring bonfire where the small village had been. Einn was still on the ground beside him. The Skrill were nowhere in sight.

They would be coming for him in the morning. They were clever enough to sleep out of reach of him up until now, usually putting him and Einn on sea stacks far from them, and he doubted they would fail to do as much this time. Finding them and killing them was out of the question.

Hiding wasn't, though. He could still hide, and maybe ambush them as they came for him…

He looked over at Einn again, but the other Fury was still unconscious. It might have been possible to wake him, but Toothless couldn't think of anything Einn could do to help him. His wings were disturbingly crooked, and there was no fight left in him. At best, if he were awake he could hide somewhere else and drag out the search a little longer, but Toothless doubted Einn would be willing to do that. There was even some logic to giving up and waiting for the Skrill to come back; they were grounded, and as far as Einn knew that meant they were doomed no matter what they did.

Toothless left the other Fury where he lay, and turned toward the closest shore. The island was elevated, cliffs sticking out of the sea with grassy plains on top, so when he reached the edge there was no shoreline, just an end to the stone and a drop to the ocean below. He peered over, digging his claws into the cracks in the stone for what little leverage he could get, but the cliff face was sheer and unbroken for as far as he could see, which wasn't all that far.

He continued along the edge of the stone, occasionally looking down to check for caves. As he walked, the smoky pyre of what had been a village continued to obscure part of the sky. Following the edge of the island was leading him closer, and would soon lead him into the village itself.

He did his best to ignore what that meant and concentrate on looking for caves. It really did take all of his concentration; his head was still spinning, and the blurry afterimages had transitioned to everything looking blurry instead, making it harder to be sure he wasn't missing something. He was pretty sure that if Eldurhjarta could have seen him, she would have forced him to lay down and do nothing for a long while.

Between looking for caves and trying not to fall over, or throw up, or miss one in his misery, he didn't realize he had made his way into the village until he had to step over a scorched chunk of wood. Even then, it took him a few long moments to actually determine what that meant and look up.

The fires had all gone out in the time it took him to circle around half the island; only a few smoldering embers remained. Wreckage was everywhere, not a single building left standing, and the smells wafting along in the breeze were enough to ensure he didn't look that closely at what else was everywhere. He didn't know how the Skrill had attacked, what methods they had used to kill, and he didn't want to know.

There were no caves in the cliffs by the former village, not even by the docks, and as he continued onward, none on the other side of the island. His headache hadn't gone away, and though it felt like he had just woken a short time ago, the night was growing old. The dizziness wasn't going away either, and he was fairly certain his odd sense of time was also the fault of his head injury.

Einn was his landmark, the point where he had started looking, so when he reached the other Fury, he stopped and sat down.

'No caves,' he huffed to himself. Usually, he spent part of each night talking to Maour, though there hadn't been much to say, but now he couldn't even do that. 'A flat island with nowhere to go…'

Nowhere except the village, with its smoldering wreckage.

He began the trek back to the village, this time cutting across the middle of the island. The moon was definitely on its way down, and he was running out of time to figure out what he was doing.

He needed to stall for time. That meant hiding. Hiding was the safe option, anyway; the Skrill intended to hunt him down for fun, so they wouldn't really care if he hid. The better he hid, the smaller the gap between the Skrill and Von… but that gap wasn't going to matter once he was taken away from this island, because the next time the Skrill changed direction, nobody would know.

In a perfect world, he would kill the Skrill and just wait here for Von to catch up, but that was difficult to the point of being foolish to attempt. He had been told that, outside of a thunderstorm, a Night Fury could beat a Skrill, but he highly doubted that such odds applied to a grounded Night Fury against two Skrill. Especially these Skrill, who were bigger than normal and had caught him and Einn with such ease. They seemed experienced, or at least the older one did. He wouldn't catch them with obvious tricks.

The rubble of the village outskirts caught his eye. Specifically, the sharp, broken pieces of wood, and the discarded weapons lying around.

He wished, now more than ever, that he still had Maour in his head. The idea that had just come to mind would be tricky enough to pull off with his brother's advice. Toothless had seen a few rudimentary traps for dragons before, but he had never built one, and he didn't have much time.

It was still a better idea than just hiding, so he decided to try it anyway.

O-O-O

The sun shone on Toothless' right eye, but not his left. He resisted the urge to move his head out of the beam; any movement could give him away.

'Come out, you cowardly sack of black scales,' the older Skrill called out in a sing-song voice that made Toothless want to bite him even more. Something cut off the single beam of sunlight on his face, though he wasn't in a position to see what. A moment later it was back again.

'I'm telling you, he's sitting in the water somewhere,' the younger Skrill called down from above.

'Did you find a Usurper in the waves?' the older one snarled, his voice crackling. 'No? Then you're wrong!'

'I will find him, just you wait and see,' the younger shot back.

The sound of lightning and then exploding wood, a distinct crackle followed by many smaller thumps as shards rained down, followed that retort. Toothless hunched closer to the ground.

He was beginning to regret his hiding place. Digging into the middle of one of the collapsed huts had seemed like a great idea at the time, and he was so far from the outside world that light barely reached him, but above him was a hut's worth of broken wood, supported by a few mostly-intact beams, but otherwise just sitting there, precariously positioned over his head.

He was well-hidden, but that wouldn't matter so much if a Skrill decided to blast his pile and accidentally got him crushed. Hopefully they would give up before then. Or hurt themselves in his less than stellar attempts at making traps out of the other piles of wood lying around. He just didn't have the hands necessary to make fine adjustments, and his attempts had mostly consisted of making other piles as unstable as possible without making it obvious.

One had collapsed almost immediately after the Skrill came down to begin searching. He had made three, so there were still two standing. He didn't know how long he had been hiding, long enough for the Skrill to get frustrated. Probably long enough for all of the wreckage to be searched once, meaning his traps might not have collapsed when they were supposed to.

It had been a long shot, one he wasn't surprised to see fail. He was far more invested in his original plan, hiding until they assumed he had somehow flown away. That was still an option; if the sadistic, older Skrill pronounced the wreckage clear, then the younger one probably wouldn't argue.

A sinister rumbling began somewhere nearby, the Skrill growling and humming by turn, prowling around close by. The noise rose and fell randomly, making it impossible to tell how close the Skrill was at any given moment, just that he was still around.

'I cannot smell you,' the Skrill announced. 'Blood and dust and lightning overwhelm the stench of your cowardice, and I was never one for smells in the first place. But I know you are here. Hiding in the ruins of others who would have opposed us, if given the chance."

Something shifted above Toothless, moved by the wind or by chance. He didn't move a muscle, even when a few splinters bounced off his back.

'That is always the way of your kind, though,' the Skrill continued. 'Leading the charge and then cowering behind the mess you make. We would not be here if one of your kind had not tried to escape.'

Toothless thought he could hear the crackling of lightning on the Skrill now. It sounded like he was getting closer.

'I would not be here,' the Skrill continued. 'Stuck searching for a cripple who would die here anyway if I left. Pathetic.'

It was extremely obvious that the Skrill was trying to provoke him, and Toothless had no intention of giving himself away… but it still bothered him. Partially because he was being insulted, but also because he had the nagging feeling the Skrill wasn't just talking about their current situation.

Maour had always wanted to understand why Skrill hated Night Furies, and only the Skrill knew. It was entirely possible this one was dropping hints that Maour, or Eldurberg, or any of the Eldurs would want to hear. But instead, Toothless was the one hearing, and likely forgetting, any cryptic clues the Skrill gave out-

Wood smacked against wood, and there was a loud crash, followed by the telltale sound of lightning striking something. Not Toothless' pile of wreckage, as he was still alive and unharmed. One of the others, maybe one of the two he had rigged finally giving out.

'I know you're here!' the Skrill screeched angrily. 'I'll shatter everything big enough to hide you before I leave!'

Which, Toothless reflected as he huddled under a large pile of wooden wreckage, was something he really should have thought of. It would take some serious effort to disperse the massive pile of scorched wood above him, but if the Skrill was going to go to that effort anyway, for the entire village, then he was in trouble.

'Did you find him?' the other Skrill asked eagerly, likely having flown in from above. Toothless was mostly guessing about that; for all he knew, the other Skrill had never left, instead electing to remain silent throughout the older one's rant.

'The worm's hiding somewhere close,' the older Skrill snarled. 'Start blowing these piles apart.'

'I don't want to waste my energy,' the younger one objected. 'We were sent out to get the one back, and we still have that one. This one will be stuck here if we leave-'

'Stuck here?' the older Skrill said slowly. 'Yes. Stuck. On an island with nothing but some ruins. No fresh water, a few dozen prey that will not last long…'

Toothless was fairly certain he had seen the remains of a few wells dotted around the ruined village, but the Skrill probably didn't know what they were for. Water would be a hassle, but it was available.

'Their kind do not swim,' the younger said casually. 'You proved that.'

'Yes, I did,' the older rumbled. 'Okay, you've convinced me. Grab the one we came for, and let's go.'

Toothless held his breath, unable to believe his luck was turning around so quickly. Sure, they thought they were leaving him to die, it made sense, but he still couldn't believe it. Even when he heard two sets of wings disappearing into the distance. He didn't move.

TIme passed, and he lingered under the wreckage, unwilling to leave. It was almost impossible for him to tell how long he spent waiting, just to be sure the Skrill had left; the sun moved, and there was no longer a beam of light on one of his eyes, but that was his only indication. He waited.

Long enough for them to pick up Einn. Long enough for them to fly to the horizon, or so he hoped. To leave, to go so far there was no chance they would change their minds and turn around.

If it weren't for the danger his hiding place posed, and his growing thirst, he would have tried to stay hidden through the night and next day, until his siblings caught up. As it was, he lasted until what he thought had to be dusk, then began the laborious process of pushing out into the open, shifting piles of ash and half-burned planks with his paws. His head was pounding yet again; the headache from being knocked out had been replaced by a headache brought on by thirst.

The fading light of the setting sun was bright to his eyes, and he blinked a few times as he crawled out into the open-

Talons stabbed into the ground on either side of him and a familiar weight slammed him into the ground, then yanked him up again. A shock ran through him as he thrashed, but he didn't care, he had gotten away, they were supposed to be gone!

'You lasted longer than I thought you would,' the younger male said from above, his voice cold. 'Pointless, we were never going to leave, but still. Don't do it again.'

A much stronger shock ran through Toothless, strong enough that he was seeing stars and cramping up in every possible place. It didn't end, going on and on while he shrieked until his throat was raw.

O-O-O

Einn was surprised he could still feel disappointment, but there was no mistaking the bitter feeling that came across him when he saw Angry returning with the other Fury's limp form in his talons.

He had known better than to hope, but apparently knowing better wasn't enough to stop himself when both Skrill had flown away with him, but not the other. They had talked about luring the other captive out by making him think they had left, but with every change of which one was watching, it had seemed more and more likely that the plan wouldn't work.

He had woken up well after sunrise; for all he knew, the other Fury could really have flown away in the night. Flying without a tailfin seemed like it would be hard - not as hard as flying without working wings, but not impossible. He had never tried, would never try… but he had hoped.

He had been stupid to hope. All it got him was more disappointment, when he was trying not to feel anything. No hope, no fear, no regret…

Definitely no regret. Even now, he didn't regret flying out into the thunderstorm when he thought of the kind people he had saved by doing so. The Skrill didn't even think he and the other - Kappi, if he remembered right, but he probably didn't - had lived on the island, they didn't know there was an island there. That was the best safety he could possibly offer Hjarta and all the rest.

All but this one, Kappi. He was the other sacrifice. If Einn could have spoken, he might have told him that. Give the younger male a reason to feel proud of himself. He would need it, with what they were going back to. With all the time in the world to think, something to hold on to was invaluable.

Something to hold on to… Einn shivered, earning himself a shock, administered so nonchalantly he was certain Sadistic had done it out of reflex and not actually noticed his movement.

He was being taken back. He would soon be seeing his son again. Facing the cold, the disappointment, the hurt, the anger. And he would deserve it. He had ruined his son's life, then failed to save himself, and failed to save his son, and failed to save this other young male with his whole life ahead of him. And nobody could ever know who he had saved, for fear of the Skrill shocking it out of them later.

Einn stared down at the water, trying not to think any longer. He was good at not thinking, at just doing as he was told and suffering in silence. Going back to his icy prison wouldn't be hard, though the mere thought was terrible.

No, it would be all too easy. That, more than anything, made him want to stop thinking. Captivity was a thousand times worse after having a taste of freedom.

Author's Note:  Next chapter is a big one! We're moving over the whole 'pursuit' part of this story really quickly because it's not the focus of the story. We'll be getting into one of the main parts of the story next time.

(Also, extra thanks to my beta reader for this one; I got this chapter to them only 5 days before posting it, where usually we do two weeks in advance.)

Chapter Text

The sun was rising, the sky glowing with its reflected light, but something stood in the way.

Toothless squinted at the horizon, trying to determine what it was that had his eyes so dazzled and confused. Something was blocking the light; not a mountain, but something that glowed, reflected, and refracted the glare throughout it. He had never seen anything like it.

There were other shapes on the horizon too, ones that grew clear relatively quickly as the Skrill flew closer. Icebergs, chunks of frozen water floating in the ocean, forming a treacherous maze below. If things were different, he might have wanted to fly through it with Maour, testing their reflexes and skill against the frosted white labrinth.

But things were not different, and instead of exploring on his own wings, he was relegated to passing above in the clutches of Skrill as they flew onward.

The field of ice and water stretched on for a long time, but as the sun rose from behind the bedazzling mountain in the center of it all, he found his attention pulled to it. The mountain was ice too, thick and reflective. It was no mere iceberg, so large it seemed impossible, and streaked with downright unnatural shades of blue and green he could only assume were the products of whatever immense cold kept it from melting in the relatively warm weather.

The mountain was a beautiful sight, and made more so by the specks flying around it. Dragons circled around the distant peak, landing on its many ledges and flying out from what he assumed were caves deeper within. Scales of every color dove into the water, or fired at the water, or flew far above in small groups. It was a nest, one of many species, hundreds of dragons strong. He hadn't seen such a thing in years.

And it was all spoiled by the way he was being taken to it. There was no doubt that the Skrill were headed for the ice mountain; they were flying directly for it. Which meant that this beautiful place was not as beautiful as it seemed.

Toothless remembered the last time he had seen many species of dragon living together. It had been a captive nest, one that only existed because the Queen needed slaves. This one might not be under the control of a Queen, or it might, he didn't know, but in any case it also sheltered evil in its midst. Some of the dragons nearest to them were flying over…

He knew better than to get his hopes up, but it was still a blow when the Skrill called out and flew faster, meeting the two Zipplebacks and Nadder that had come out to meet them.

'You return!' the Nadder screeched, diving between the Skrill. 'It has been-'

'Too long,' Toothless' captor grumbled, cutting her off. She stopped speaking the instant he began, but she didn't seem afraid. He would have called it respect, were he able to stomach the idea of such cruel creatures deserving such a thing. 'All is well?'

'The usual pawful of losses, but yes,' one of the Zipplebacks offered. 'Would you like us to fish for you while you make your way to the nest?' He flew level with the Skrill, one head looking up at him and the other staring at Toothless.

'No need, we will be free of our burdens soon enough,' Einn's captor snorted. 'You can go away now, we have been suitably welcomed.'

'I, for one, would like the company,' Toothless' captor growled, his path diverging from that of the other Skrill. 'I've spent far too long with just him, you see,' he added, speaking to the three dragons who had followed him away from Einn's captor.

'Good riddance,' Einn's captor snarled. A surge of lightning zapped Einn as it worked its way across him, and he flew away.

'How are the others?' Toothless' captor asked.

'All safe and accounted for, of course,' the Nadder said. 'They were too short of wings to spare any for the defenses.'

'It was worth the effort,' Toothless' captor snorted, shaking him a bit for emphasis. 'One extra as well as one retrieved.'

'Yes, we saw,' one of the Zipplebacks huffed. 'What of the weather, though?'

Toothless growled to himself, more than fed up with being so ignored by the three dragons - five if he counted by head, though with Zipplebacks how they counted themselves varied by the individual - and worked up the courage needed to speak and bear the inevitable punishment. 'What of me?' he barked. 'What-'

A shock coursed through him, strong enough that his jaw clenched, and he growled defiantly. He could have continued speaking, but his point had been made. All five pairs of eyes had turned to him.

'Usurpers are not our concern,' the Nadder chuffed, sounding disgruntled.

'No, they are not,' Toothless' captor agreed. 'How about you all go ahead and tell the nest that we have returned?'

'All will want to know,' one of the Zipplebacks hissed. The three dragons hastily departed, flying in different directions.

'You will not be able to ply any of your treacherous tricks here, usurper,' Toothless' captor hissed smugly. 'You are powerless and worthless here, and all know it. None will listen, none will notice. None will care.'

Toothless refrained from answering. He didn't know quite what to think of that entire encounter. Something felt off, but not in the way he had dreaded. There was no obvious leash of control around the dragons of this nest, pulling them away from forbidden things. They seemed to not care about him of their own accord, not because some despot had ordered them to say as much.

But if there was no easy answer, such disdain for his own life was much harder to excuse. He didn't like the idea of this entire nest of dragons being his enemies, but it certainly fit with what he had seen.

The Skrill carried him toward the ice mountain in silence, and he continued to look around as they approached, but the pleasant view was now thoroughly ruined. They flew down, into a cave two thirds of the way up, and through a winding passage of ice just big enough to comfortably fit a Skrill-

Then they flew out into a massive opening, and he was impressed despite himself. He had expected a cold, dreary place of water and ice and maybe stone, bleak and providing the bare minimum of shelter.

Verdant greenery, riotous flowers and plant growth, towering stone cliffs and varied topography, all centered around a clear, deep pool of salt water, was not what he had expected. It was as if a mountain of ice had grown up around an already bowl-shaped island, forming itself into a protective cone that sheltered the life within. Dragons lounged, flew, played, and slept everywhere, all across an array of cliffs that merged stone and ice.

He saw no signs of a controlling, monstrous Queen. There was certainly space for a dragon of that size, but nothing much larger than the Skrill carrying him was to be seen. There were several kinds of dragon that he didn't know, but none like that.

'Gawk all you want, you'll be seeing plenty of this,' his captor rumbled. He flew out over the open space in the middle of the massive, hollow island, and made for a high ledge with a conspicuously high ice wall at the edge of the bowl. It was situated at the very top of one of the cliffs, with no rock above it, and once they flew over Toothless saw that the ice was a flat, downright unnatural pane separating a small expanse of stone and weeds-

Then they were over, into an alcove, and the Skrill carrying him shifted his claws. 'Finally,' his captor groaned, and another shock coursed through him. Then he was dropped.

Toothless held his wings in, partially because he didn't want to land badly and partially because every part of him was contracting and pulling inward anyway, and fell the short distance to the ice floor.

He hit the ground with a thump that drove the wind out of him, and his mind swam. Lingering spasms coursed across him, and he groaned.

But he was free of the clutching claws and instant retribution his captor represented, so he forced himself to spread his limbs, stretching them. The flight from their latest resting point to this ice nest had not been long, not in comparison to the usual ordeal he and Einn were put through, but being carried and occasionally shocked for any length of time was not pleasant.

His spread wings brushed against ice on all sides. There was stone beneath him, but that was it. The hole had sheer walls, was about three times his height if he sat on his back legs, and barely fit him when he stood on all fours, forcing his tail to curl around or rest against the freezing wall behind him.

One of the ice walls was opaque, blue and green with more ice behind them. The other three, he noticed as he stared into them each in turn, were not. They were not fully transparent, he could barely make out shapes, but there were black lumps behind two of them.

One of those lumps might be Einn, but the other? If he weren't wary of being shocked, he would call out to them. They had to be Night Furies like him.

A Skrill screeched, laughing mockingly, and another black body dropped into the space across from him, filling a third pit like his own. 'Welcome back!' the Skrill that had been Einn's captor jeered mockingly.

'Welcome back to you, too,' another Skrill called out, its mental voice accompanied by the same distinctly audible crackle. The two Skrill landed atop the ice a short distance away. 'I half expected you to come back with none, not one, and certainly not two. How do you do it?'

'Time-tested methods, of course,' the other replied smugly. 'We found the mother of all storms headed in the right direction, and snatched them both up at the same time.'

'You must be tired,' the first said. 'But it's been a while since we got a new one, and you like to be there for the first day…'

'I'll cover for you,' Einn's captor snorted. 'Lazy sack of scale and bone that you are.'

'I like to conserve my energy,' the other shot back, not sounding all that offended. 'Besides, you like it when I'm lazy with the prisoners.'

'Go find somewhere to snore the day away.' One of the Skrill roared, probably the one Toothless knew, and the other flew away.

'Wake up!' The remaining Skrill shrieked loudly. 'Only warning!'

All three of the Night Furies Toothless could see rose sluggishly. None seemed to even notice him.

The Skrill descended into one of the pits and rose again, flying out toward the open space of the mountain's interior. He returned far too swiftly for him to have gone very far, and then the Fury to Toothless' right was removed.

Toothless hunched down and braced himself, guessing that he was next. Sure enough, cruel talons seized around him, jerked him out of the pit in a maneuver that felt well-practiced, and carried him the short distance to the open patch of rock and grass he had noticed earlier.

This time, he fell lightly, far more prepared for the sudden drop, and landed on his paws. The stone was gritty and rough under his paws, but it was far better than landing on his stomach or sides.

His first thought was to look for the other Night Furies that had been brought out. There wasn't much room on their cresent-shaped slab of rock. Along one side, a small pool of water abutted a sheer ice wall, the one he had seen before and noted as being impossibly thin and tall.

It was, he noticed, far clearer than any of the other ice he had seen, and offered an amazing view. The entire interior of the mountain sprawled out on the other side of the ice pane, a single blast away from him. He could see everything, and it would not be difficult to get out into the rest of the nest the moment nobody was watching. Actually traversing the mountain might be a problem, grounded as he was, but it was still far too obvious an escape route. He didn't trust it.

Putting the obvious bait out of his mind for the moment, he turned in a tight circle and looked for the two Furies who had been brought in before him. One was standing by the pond, their back to him. They looked mostly normal, bearing none of the immense scarring Einn had. Maybe a little unhealthy, lacking in muscle and as a result surprisingly curvy in odd places, but-

Einn thumped to the ground nearby, and the Skrill cackled as he flew back again, presumably to fetch another dragon.

The curvy Fury turned, and Toothless saw that she was definitely female, though still unusually thin and wasted in appearance. Her eyes were a shade of green not unlike his own, which he found distinctly odd; he had never seen a green-eyed Fury he wasn't related to, but unless she was some long-lost cousin or ancestor, she wasn't family. He wasn't quite sure how that worked, come to think of it. Fishlegs and the Eldurs liked to ramble on about it, which meant it was surely more complicated and less interesting than he would have thought.

'Well, that was short-lived,' she sighed, eyeing Einn with a sort of distant disdain that made Toothless want to growl at her. 'And you…'

Her eyes drifted to him and widened. 'Well, hello big and buff,' she hummed. 'Here to save me?'

'I…' Toothless trailed off, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that. He hadn't come of his own accord, but he did want to tear whatever this was down on the Skrill and get everyone out, that was just common sense, but at the same time he didn't know if saying that outright would be a smart move. He had spent too much time in the company of Nótts to just blurt out the truth when he didn't know what was really going on.

Another Fury dropped down close to Einn and immediately let out a loud snarl, taking Toothless' mind off of the female's question. 'Father,' the newly-arrived male growled, rushing to Einn's side and nosing at his wings.

'I told you not to get your hopes up,' the female huffed, not looking away from Toothless.

Toothless decided he didn't like her attitude and turned away, going over to Einn. The older male was lying on his side where he had fallen, alive and awake, but staring out at nothing in particular. He seemed just as lifeless and defeated as any other time since being captured, despite apparently being reunited with his son.

'He made it for a long time,' the male snarled. 'More than one hundred days.'

'One hundred days of fear and fleeing,' a Skrill snarled. The younger male and female both looked up, and Toothless turned around to see a Skrill perched on a shelf of ice nearby, staring at them. He didn't think it was one he had seen before, though it was hard to tell.

'Newcomer,' the Skrill buzzed. 'There are rules here. You will follow them, or you will suffer and then follow them. Choose wisely.'

'Don't mark up that nice set of scales any more,' the female advised. She slunk off to the side, into his field of view, and spread her wings. They bore a set of scars like Einn's at their midpoints, but less visibly, and the minor crook where the bone had set wrong was far less severe than Einn's injury, small enough that it could be overlooked. 'Protect those good looks.'

'Silence,' the Skrill commanded, shooting the female an annoyed look. A set of sparks spontaneously burst into being along its neck and wings, and the female quickly backed away, looking down at the ground. 'You, new one, listen carefully and ask questions if you are confused. I will not tell you again after today.'

Toothless nodded cautiously. This Skrill was treating him marginally better than the other two had, but he sensed the same hatred lay beneath the cold neutrality.

'No flaming, melting, or breaking ice,' the Skrill intoned. 'Your flame is for keeping you alive, not worthless attempts to flee. You will find no aid, no hiding places, and no way off of this mountain if you could even get out. You are flightless…'

The Skrill trailed off, its eyes going to his wings. 'Sadistic!' he called out.

'Well, no?' Toothless muttered to himself, confused. His grounding injury was decidedly less sadistic than the usual.

'What?' the Skrill that had carried Einn in barked from somewhere out of sight.

'The new one's wings,' the other demanded.

'Tail, ask the overgrown fledgling why, I don't care,' the familiar Skrill said disdainfully. 'It's grounded, no need to ground it again, something like that.'

Toothless held his tail out to the side so that the Skrill could see what the other meant; he wasn't about to get his wings broken because someone didn't fully understand what was going on. Hopefully, showing off how he was grounded wouldn't give the Skrill any ideas about maiming their other prisoners the same way. Einn had somehow gotten around his wings being broken and set wrong, but a missing tailfin was far harder to correct. He knew that from experience.

'I see…' The Skrill lecturing him huffed and sparked in irritation. 'Fine. Same rules anyway. What did I tell you?'

'No breaking or flaming ice, my fire is for keeping me alive,' Toothless repeated. He didn't like being so compliant, but until he had something to work with, defiance would just get him hurt and keep him in the dark. His captors were giving him information, knowledge about what he had been dropped into, and he needed it. He couldn't afford to act up yet.

'Good,' the Skrill growled. 'No mating. If we find an egg, we will not kill it. Your spawn will suffer alongside you. Be smart and avoid that.'

Toothless noticed the distinct lack of a fatal punishment, and again he wondered why. Skrill killed his kind, that was their whole reputation, but these weren't even willing to smash eggs, and he didn't quite buy the excuse of it being crueler this way.

'I notice something you did not say,' the female hummed.

'That rule has not changed, no mating at all,' the Skrill snarled. 'No attacking us, no talking to anyone but each other. No killing each other, no fatal wounds, no exceptions or clever work-arounds to any of the rules. I don't care for you or this, I would shock you hard enough to stop your heart and be done with it if it was up to me. Do not test me.'

A moment of silence passed. Toothless stared up at the Skrill, and it stared down at him.

'You have questions, and I will not answer them after this,' the Skrill huffed. 'Ask them now.'

'Okay... ' Toothless wracked his mind for a question that would be useful while not also giving away that he fully intended to escape at the first viable opportunity, and settled on the one closest to his stomach. 'How does food work?'

'You are brought one meal a day,' the Skrill replied with a low growl. 'No fighting over it. Starving each other counts as trying to kill each other. Next question.'

'Why am I here?' he asked.

'Because you are a usurper and deserve to suffer,' the Skrill snarled.

'I understand you think that,' he said diplomatically, 'but if you could explain why I deserve to suffer, and why you call me a Usurper, I would have a much easier time respecting your authority.' He wanted to throw up in his mouth for practically groveling to such vile filth, but if that got him answers, it was worth it.

'You don't get to know,' the Skrill snarled. 'Next question.'

'What happens if I do break a rule?' Toothless asked, seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with that line of questioning. 'I mean, so I know what I am avoiding.'

'Suffering,' the Skrill hissed. 'From me, from one of the other guards, whoever is there at the time.'

A thought occurred to Toothless, an ugly one that he couldn't bear to ignore. 'What is going to happen to him?' he asked, gesturing toward Einn with his wing.

'Less than he deserves, as he is fragile,' the Skrill hissed. 'I don't know and I don't care. He did not escape, he was… discarded by mistake. The fault does not lie with him.'

'Discarded?' Toothless asked, appalled.

'It was a mistake that will not be repeated, ask something else or cease speaking to me.' The Skrill flashed with power, little strands of lightning lashing at the air and ice around him.

'What… What are your names?' He was struggling to think of anything else to ask, anything more useful than that.

'You will never know,' the Skrill thundered. 'You hear me, never. Your fellow insects have come up with things to call us, false names we use around you, but those are not our names. The next time you address me or ask me a question, I will give you a scar.' He leaped up into the air, a half-dozen strands of electricity leaping out into the air ahead of him, and flew off to a much higher perch.

Toothless watched him until it was clear he wasn't going anywhere else, and would be perched above, probably listening in, for the time being. 'Well,' he said, trying to gather his thoughts into something coherent, 'he's touchy about names.'

'We do not need another fool cracking jokes at every opportunity,' Einn's son snarled. 'I wish you had not been captured.'

'I don't know, I like our current idiot,' the female said lightly. 'Maybe this one will add to the fun.' She flicked her tail at him and turned, showing herself off. 'Look but do not touch, those are the rules.'

'And don't look unless you want to cause trouble,' Einn's son added venomously. 'If anyone gets to have her, it would be me, not you. Big or not, I can give you a thrashing you will not soon forget. Do us both a favor and avoid that.'

'Nobody needs to thrash me, or entice me, or any of that,' Toothless growled, favoring Einn's son and the female with equally annoyed looks. 'We are all prisoners for no reason that I can tell, I think there are far more important things to focus on for the moment.'

'That moment came and went years ago,' Einn's son retorted.

'Okay, fine,' Toothless grumbled. 'But I still don't want to fight. What's your name?'

'Hefnd,' the male spat. 'Sterkurhefnd.'

Toothless tilted his head. He didn't know if he knew that word; Cloey had taught him a lot of different words as a fledgling, and it sounded familiar, but it wasn't coming to him.

'And I am Stolturstjörnu,' the female said brightly. 'Star, to my friends. What about you, big guy?'

'I'm not that big,' Toothless grumbled, glancing at Hefnd. The other male was, admittedly, just as thin and lanky as Star. He supposed he might be big and bulky in comparison, but that was just what a normal Night Fury should be. 'My name is Svarturkappi.'

'Warrior,' Hefnd spat. 'Cute. Well, warrior, get ready to do a whole lot of not fighting, not against anyone that matters.'

Einn stirred, and Hefnd put a protective wing over him. 'And what were you doing, getting my father caught?' Hefnd said accusingly.

'No, he was sheltering at our island-'

Hefnd leaped forward, startling Toothless, and landed right in front of him. 'You were homeless and alone out there, don't lie,' he snarled, staring into Toothless' eyes. 'We all were, and the Skrill would hunt down anyone else out there, so you must have been too.'

'Fine, I was alone and always have been, but you don't have to be so rude about it,' Toothless muttered, hearing what Hefnd was really saying. The last thing he wanted was to inadvertently send the Skrill back to the Isle by letting them know more Night Furies lived there, or to put them on guard for when Von came looking…

He sighed, doing his best to seem bothered by his apparent loneliness and carefully not looking up at the Skrill watching them. It was easy to fake it because he was lonely. He still felt the absence in the back of his mind that shouldn't be. Hopefully, Maour, Von, and Ruffnut were okay. They wouldn't have given up, but they wouldn't know where he was, either. He was on his own for the time being.

'Star, help me drag him to the water,' Hefnd requested, turning away. 'You, Kappi, whatever, go explore. We all did at first. You'll be done soon enough.'

'And when you are done, you have an open invitation to sit next to me,' Star called out.

'Thanks,' Toothless muttered. Looking around did sound like a good idea, regardless of how rudely it had been given to him. They might have given up on escaping, but he certainly hadn't. Even if it would be hard.

And the Skrill had come to drop off a prisoner four times aside from him, not three. There was still another prisoner to find, somewhere in here.

He made his way over to the pond, wondering if offering to help move Einn would be met with gratitude, or as seemed more likely, derision and anger. Hefnd and Star seemed to have it under control, and Hefnd telling him to go do something else might have been meant to prevent him from getting involved…

He growled and took a mouthful of the pond water, deciding not to intervene. For now, he needed to keep his head down, take in the situation, and learn as much as he could without making waves. Being pushy and offering help where none was wanted would make him stand out.

The water was cold, and as he gulped it down he shivered. The ledge that was his prison was entirely encased in a sheer wall of stone and ice, though he still had no clue how the pond water didn't eventually melt the thin ice wall it sat against, or how it was formed in the first place. Curiosity took him around the edge of the pond to where the ice wall met stone, and he walked along it for a bit.

It was melting. Not quickly, but drops were running down it. The sun hadn't reached it yet, but he had to imagine that when it did the melting would intensify. Hopefully the cold would abate too; nothing was warm in the area he had been relegated to, while warm sunlight streamed in to illuminate and heat the center of the mountain.

He looked out at the green, sunny places, and felt a pang of pure hurt. Scores of dragons of all kinds could be seen living their lives out there, happy and content, and yet there was a cruel sort of prison for others literally within eyeshot of their paradise.

There had to be some sort of manipulation at play; he could have believed such cruel aloofness of a nest of Skrill, but never of regular dragons with no reason to hate his kind. He had not seen such disdain in the Queen's nest of slaves, and to see it here was stranger than it would have been back there. He was missing something big, though he didn't understand what it could be if not a Queen.

Staring out at the happiness did nothing but make him feel bad, so he turned away, instead following the ice wall all the way across to where it met the sweeping, opaque cliff of ice that subtly curved around the edge of the giant bowl of the nest. A tumble of rocks, some bigger than he was, lay in the corner, looking unstable and dangerous, so he avoided it, skirting around the rubble.

The long, flat wall was, as best he could guess, less than a hundred paces long. There was nothing but rock, water, and a few hardy weeds on his side of the wall, and nowhere to hide. A depression in the rock away from everything else could conceivably hide him if he crouched in it, but the vile scent coming from that direction told him it was already in use as a waste pit. Hiding there would just get him sick.

He stopped walking and looked over at the pond. Einn, Hefnd, and Star were all lying near it, huddled close together. Three Night Furies. If it weren't for Star mentioning a fourth, he might have second-guessed his assumption that there was another aside from himself. But he didn't know where they were. There didn't seem to be any caves or open spaces in the rubble pile, and he feared accidentally shifting something and crushing someone if he went poking around.

The more he thought about it, the more he was sure the fourth Fury had to be within the rubble. That was the only place they could hide.

'Hello?' he called out hopefully. 'Is someone in there?'

Aside from the distant squawking and roaring of the dragons beyond the wall, he heard nothing.

O-O-O

Toothless flamed the rock under his paws, stamping down and trying to absorb the warmth. Moving kept most of him warm, but not comfortable, and he was beginning to suspect the sun never reached this little prison. It was too high up on the inside of the mountain; aside from a general glow coming through the thick ice above, none of the light could reach them. Noon had to be near, judging by how the shadows were out in the nest proper, and not a single beam of sunlight had reached the ice well, much less those behind it.

He understood now why the Skrill had said fire was for keeping alive; the cold was tolerable for a time, but he could entirely believe that it would kill in the night, or in the colder part of the year, which this was not yet. As hard as it was to believe, it was still closing in on the end of the hot months of the year, though it felt like the beginning of the cold season.

'One mystery down, a dozen to go,' he grumbled, speeding up in his pointless circling march. He had gone around their enclosure a hundred times by now, but it was something to do that was not laying down next to Star. She bothered him; there was something about how she acted that got under his skin. Like he was supposed to be blinded by the fact that she was a female.

Maybe he would have been, if she was the first one he ever saw. But he had a mother, two sisters, and at least one close female friend. None of which he liked in that way, of course, and Star was a little bit alluring, if worryingly thin in all the wrong places. But her personality had not made a good first impression.

He passed by the seated trio of Furies once again, and huffed to himself. It was possible he was not being fair to Star; none of them had made good impressions earlier, and they were not in a good situation. It wouldn't be fair to judge her on a few words in a single encounter, especially when he could not place what it was about her that had raised his hackles in the first place.

The same could be said for Hefnd; he was mad and confrontational, but maybe only because he had just learned that his father had been recaptured, hurt, and brought back to this terrible place. That would anger anyone.

A Skrill screeched nearby, and Toothless looked up, but it wasn't the one that had been watching over them this whole time. Another was flying in, clutching a bunch of grey objects in its talons.

'Finally,' Hefnd grumbled, getting to his paws. 'And Angry, too. No delay.'

'Would you say this makes today a good day?' Star asked impishly, remaining where she was.

'Not by a long shot,' Hefnd growled. 'But it makes today less horrible than it had the potential to be.'

The Skrill, which Toothless thought he recognized as the one that had captured him, landed in the middle of their area, dropped the fish, and quickly divided the extremely meager pile into five portions.

Toothless' stomach rumbled, and he stared forlornly at the three fish that made up his share. They might have made a good light meal when he could look forward to one or two more servings throughout the night, but as the only food he was getting until this time tomorrow, it was a pitiful, lacking attempt he would have laughed at in another setting.

He understood now why Hefnd and Star looked so malnourished, they were malnourished. It was not just a look, they barely got enough to live off of. No wonder they had spent all morning lying still by the pond; they probably didn't have the energy to spare for anything else.

'I'm not going to bring yours over,' Hefnd growled, passing by Toothless to collect three of the five meager piles. 'Get your own food.'

'I did not expect you to,' Toothless murmured, trying to put his mind off of the impending hunger. The Skrill had not fed him well while they were travelling, but they had provided as many fish as they could catch in a short time, which was much more than this.

He walked over to the remaining two piles and swallowed his three, one after the other in quick succession. Then he looked at the last trio of fish, his mind going to something else entirely.

'I have not yet seen whoever this belongs to,' he said, looking over at Star and Hefnd. 'Where are they?'

'Grey only comes out once a day,' Star purred, tossing her head in the direction of the rubble pile. 'Come over here and get ready for the only entertainment we get around here.'

Again, Toothless was bothered by her tone, but he wasn't quite sure why. He joined Star and the others by the pond, but sat a short distance away from them.

'Why so standoffish?' Star asked, slapping her tail on the stone between them. 'We all share body heat here, you're going to want to get used to me.'

'Not too used to her,' Hefnd grumbled.

'I'm good, thanks,' Toothless said, hoping they wouldn't get into another argument, either with him or about him.

'You'll come around,' she assured him. 'Now, where is Grey?'

'Looks like she is not coming out today,' Hefnd rumbled. 'Odd. I lay claim to her fish if she doesn't show.'

'I thought we were not supposed to steal food from each other,' Toothless said. He imagined that he could feel the Skrill's eyes on his back, and avoided looking up.

'It's not stealing if she gives it up for no reason,' Hefnd asserted. 'Right, father?'

Einn blinked at him, then closed his eyes. He was even less active than he had been on the journey to this terrible place, if that was even possible.

'Right,' Hefnd growled to himself. 'There is nothing against giving away food, so long as you are not trying to starve yourself.'

'About that,' Toothless said, seeing a chance to dig into one of the big mysteries around this entire situation. 'Why do they want us alive?'

'Because they hate us,' Hefnd said simply.

'Yes, obviously, but in my experience Skrill kill,' Toothless huffed quietly. 'I have heard of humans taking captives or slaves, but this is something unheard of for dragons.'

'These do, and their whole nest goes along with it,' Star rumbled. 'It's best not to question these things. Just take it for granted and live with it.'

Toothless scowled at the ground. He didn't like that answer at all; it reeked of giving up and doing nothing. But if they didn't want to tell him, he would just have to get his answers from somewhere else-

'There you are,' Star exclaimed. 'What, did you fall asleep?'

A grey shape was pushing out from under a spot near the edge of the pile of rubble. Toothless couldn't see how all the rocks weren't collapsing on top of the dragon… But he was abruptly distracted by the dragon herself.

She was not like the others in any way. No lightning scars marred black scales, not on this one. She had no black scales, no scales at all. Her body was grey from paw to wingtip, leathery and devoid of scales of any color, like they had all fallen off and never returned. The same marks of malnourishment he saw on Hefnd and Star were far more pronounced here, entirely visible on smooth, flat skin. She had to be immensely old, to be so weathered and dull.

'No,' Grey said in a young voice. She sounded surprisingly cheery, given the circumstances, and couldn't possibly be much older than he was, despite how she looked. 'You know me, I just lost track of time.'

Toothless stared at her as she made her way over to the fish. Her body was not old and naturally aged, it couldn't be unless her mental voice was somehow deceiving him, but he didn't understand how she had come to look as she did.

'Give us a joke, then,' Star called out. 'It's all you're good for.'

'Well, I definitely am not here for my looks,' Grey quipped, flaring crooked wings in a mockery of how Star herself had shown off earlier. She took her fish and bit one in half, rolling it around in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. 'Or my dainty eating habits. Did I tell you the one about the rock-eaters and me?'

' No, this is new,' Star hummed. 'Go on.'

Grey finished her fish slowly, delaying. When she finally finished, she let out a happy purr and turned back toward the rocks. 'Two Gronckles fly up to my rubble pile. They start eating it. I ask them to stop. What do they do?'

'What do they do?' Hefnd huffed. He didn't sound particularly interested in the answer, but he asked anyway.

'They eat me!' Grey barked.

Star burst out into laughter, Hefnd rumbled a bit, and Toothless politely chuckled a little, though he didn't find that joke funny in the slightest. He supposed he wasn't quite bored enough to see the humor in it, especially when the tail of the joke was Grey's own strange appearance. Making fun of that seemed rude, even if she was the one doing it.

Grey glanced at him, then turned her tail on them and quickly walked back to the rubble pile, worming her way underneath an overhanging stone Toothless was sure would crush him if he tried the same. Smaller stones were shifted in front of the opening shortly after Grey disappeared inside.

'Why does she do that?' Toothless asked. 'I thought sharing warmth was important.'

'She's weird,' Hefnd huffed. 'She has been here longer than any of us. Don't question it, she will just joke and refuse to give a straight answer.'

'So you say,' Toothless murmured. 'But she will say something.' She seemed happy and approachable, more so than any of the other Furies. He had half a mind to try and talk to her, now that he knew where to go. Even if she gave no straight answers, she might say something useful by accident.

'Don't bother with her, she's only good for amusing the rest of us,' Star said dismissively. 'And she knows it. You'll get bored of her quicker if you try to talk to her.'

'I'll determine that for myself,' Toothless growled. Her discouragement only made his mind up for him, ironically. He stood and made his way over to the pile of rocks, crouching near the blocked-up entrance.

'Hello?' he called out. 'Grey?'

There was movement inside, a rustle of skin on stone. 'Yes?' she said hesitantly.

'My name is Kappi,' he offered. 'I was brought in this morning.'

'You should have introduced yourself as Óheppinn, then,' she chirped. 'Unlucky. You know, because you ended up here. But then I guess we're all Óheppinn. That would make things confusing.'

'Names around here are already confusing enough,' he agreed, hoping to keep the conversation going. 'I still don't know what I'm supposed to call the Skrill.'

'I gave them nicknames,' Grey revealed. 'The one who lectured you is Tolerable. The others are Angry, Sadistic, Condescending, and Cold. There were a few more, but they're not around now.'

'You actually call that one Sadistic to his face?' Toothless asked, torn between appalled and amused despite himself. He had thought of the Skrill carrying Einn as the sadistic one of the two, and his own captor was definitely angry a lot, but calling them that directly? And them even adopting those names and using them? It was absurd in a dark way, a joke shared between abused and abusers.

'He likes it,' Grey rumbled. 'Making him happy without pain is a good thing. You'll learn. Try not to end up like me.'

'Like you?' Toothless asked soberly, any amusement he had felt sucked away by that warning. 'This is something he did?'

Silence was the only response he got, and he sensed that he had stepped on a sore spot for the otherwise cheerful Fury, though that made no sense since she had joked about the same subject herself. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend,' he offered.

'You can't offend me,' Grey said gleefully, as if she wasn't bothered at all. She sounded genuine. 'Everything is funny, I'll just make a joke out of it later.'

'That is very… optimistic.' He couldn't imagine being that happy in a place like this, but if it worked for her, who was he to judge?

'Do you want me to make a joke for you?' she asked. 'I can. I do for Star and Hefnd and Einn.'

'I would rather learn about this place and you,' he admitted. 'I have a lot of questions, and you seem like the best one to answer them. How did you get here?'

'I'll make you a joke,' Grey said again. 'Or a riddle, but I'm not good with those. Something funny.'

'Okay,' Toothless rumbled, humoring her. 'How do we do that?'

'I do that,' Grey said. 'Come back tomorrow? I will have it done by then.'

'Can I ask you about other things in the meantime?' he requested.

'I need to think of something funny,' she objected. A soft, churring rumble followed that statement, the first physical noise she had made since they began talking.

'I'll come back tomorrow, then,' he conceded.

She barked a short, abrupt laugh, then fell silent. He lingered there for a few moments, silent, then stood and walked a few paces away and sat down again, at a loss.

There was something about her that bothered him, sort of like Star but not in the same way. Star made him feel defensive and wary, but Grey just confused him. Something was not right… Nothing was right, more like, even if she was a shining beam of positivity in this otherwise dark, gloomy place.

'New, straight wings,' Grey mused. He didn't think she was talking to him; she probably didn't even know he was still nearby. 'Grey, scaleless, ugly… Something about rocks? But I already did that, and it might insult him…'

Toothless moved away, even more confused by her attitude. He couldn't even blame some nefarious Queen for the attitudes of his fellow prisoners; their minds were their own, no Queen could change that.

But now that he thought about it, they all had strange things about them. Einn didn't speak, Hefnd was confrontational, Star was condescending and trying far too hard to be alluring, Grey was optimistic in a way that seemed genuine despite everything…

And that was without even thinking about the Skrill, or the nest he could see even now, or the ice that should have melted by now, or the fact that these other Furies had been here for years…

Toothless sat down with his back to the ice wall and closed his eyes, bearing the constant chill in the air for the moment. He needed to think, to piece all of this together into something he could understand. Something he could exploit, fix, and use to get out and find Maour and Von and go home. Ideally after destroying all that was wrong about this place in the process.

If nothing else, it seemed like he would be given ample time to think without distraction, so long as the cold and the rumbling that was already starting in his belly didn't count.

Chapter Text

Ice crackled between Toothless' claws as he flexed, and he growled as the numbness began to give way to an agonizing procession of tiny claws and teeth, or as Maour called it, pins and needles. All four of his paws had small accumulations of frost to be broken off, but his left hind paw had the worst of it.

He shook his limb again, smacking it against the stone. His eyelids began to droop of their own accord despite the pain, and he only caught himself drifting off when his chin bumped into his chest.

'Hey, big warrior,' Star called out from where she stood by the pond. 'How was your first night here?' She lifted a wing invitingly, showing off the empty space at her side.

Toothless shuddered and made for her, quickly taking the offered spot. His dislike of her attitude from the day before was still very much present, but at the moment he had far more pressing concerns.

'Ooh, bad if you're this cold,' Star said lightly, folding her wing over his back. She was warm, in contrast to everything else, and Toothless almost fell asleep then and there. 'You used your fire too quickly, didn't you?'

He nodded tiredly. He had run out of fire before the night was half over, as best he could remember, and it hadn't come back quickly enough to fully stave off the cold. He had come out of the icy little cell more tired than he had gone in, and chilled to the bone in a way that made him feel slow as well as cold and miserable.

'You'll get used to it,' Star offered. Her words might have been more comforting if she didn't sound so insincere. 'And if you don't, well, I get a big, attractive male to snuggle up with every day, so fine by me.'

'No snuggling,' Hefnd growled from the other end of the pond. He had been pawing water to his father's face, either to wake him up or to clean him, and a trickle of ice-cold water worked its way into the base of Einn's ear. He barely seemed to notice, tilting his head to the side without even opening his eyes.

Today, Toothless felt a lot more sympathy for Einn's lethargy. Really, he was a lot more sympathetic toward everyone, Hefnd and Star included. He closed his eyes and felt the telltale haze of sleep descending over his mind-

Something exploded right in front of his face, he reared back, and suddenly the length of his tail was immersed in ice-cold water, which had him yelping and leaping forward, only belatedly realizing that something had just exploded.

A Skrill's mocking laughter filled the air, and Toothless knew it was directed at him. 'No snoozing, Usurper,' the Skrill everyone called Sadistic said smugly from atop the ice ledge looking down on their enclosure. 'Night is for sleep, day for regretting that you ever hatched.'

'I'm regretting someone's hatching,' Toothless muttered rebelliously, though not so rebelliously that Sadistic could hear him.

Star purred in amusement and sauntered around in front of him, shaking her wings out in a way that Toothless couldn't help but see as alluring. 'How rude' she murmured. 'But that's the rule, no sleeping. Laying around with your eyes open, though, is totally allowed.'

'I think I'm up now,' Toothless grumbled. His heart was still racing from what had to have been a small lightning strike right in front of him just as he fell asleep, and he needed to do something. 'Thanks.'

'The pleasure was mine,' Star said, returning to her spot by the shore. 'Once you've settled down, you're welcome to come back.'

'Maybe,' Toothless conceded. He was thinking more clearly now, if only because he still felt as if he might have to fight for his life at any given moment, and he didn't know if he wanted to make a habit of laying next to Star.

He wandered away from the pond, feeling the mocking gaze of Sadistic on his back wherever he went. The Skrill was still watching from the same place, and acted as if he would be there all day, sprawling out and idly clawing ice from the edge with his talons.

Again, the impossibility of it all struck Toothless as he watched Sadistic dig at his own perch. How was it that this place had existed for any amount of time without melting away? The ice wall separating them from the rest of the nest was noticeably thinner and easier to see through compared to the day before, and wouldn't last the week at this rate.

'How does it all stay like this?' he muttered, staring out at the nest once more. He was missing something big, but he didn't know what. Nothing had changed out in the nest proper; dragons still flew around freely, none so much as glanced his way, and none gave any sign of worrying about the ice mountain they lived in melting away, though it surely would.

If Maour were with him, he would come up with some far-fetched theory that explained everything, probably involving something seemingly unrelated that Toothless hadn't thought was important.

'It's the…' He searched his mind for the least relevant thing he could think of. 'The… Prisoners!'

He groaned and turned away from the ice wall. 'No, not that.' He certainly wasn't doing anything to keep the ice from melting or the Skrill from killing them all, and he doubted Hefnd, Einn, Star, or Grey was. His kind did not make things cold, he didn't even like being cold.

'But if it's not us, and it's not the Skrill, and it's not any of them…' he trailed off, thinking hard. Something or someone had to be maintaining the ice. If it wasn't the Skrill, and it wasn't any of the prisoners, then it had to be another dragon in the nest.

He whirled back to the ice wall and all but pressed his head to it, staring out at the verdant nest beyond with new interest. There were scores, hundreds of dragons flying around, lazing on ledges, or cavorting on the ground, and many were species he had never seen before. One of the species he didn't know could be responsible for the ice…

And therefore a potential weakness. A plan was coming to mind, or the bare bones of one part. If a dragon could make ice, a Night Fury could go anywhere with them, even on paw. All it would take was an endless ice bridge over the ocean. By the same reasoning, that dragon not adding to the ice wall, or the terrible ice pit he had failed to sleep in, could create a vulnerability that didn't need fire to be exploited, a tunnel out through the wall somehow.

He purred to himself, pleased with his cleverness. Some of the dragons out there looked like likely candidates, now that he was thinking about who might be keeping the ice fresh. There was a scattered assortment of bulbous dragons that seemed like larger cousins to Gronckles, and he could see one swallowing a huge chunk of ice. Alternatively, there was a dragon sporting a crazy assortment of frills lurking by the water that made up the center of the ice nest, doing nothing but looking appropriately exotic. It would be a strange dragon, to make ice instead of fire.

'Which are you?' he muttered, settling down to watch. The moment he saw any dragon adding to the ice somewhere, he would know who to contact, bribe or threaten, and then escape with. Not being able to fly didn't matter if he could walk to the nearest island and do… something. His plan was vague beyond that; getting out was enough of a challenge on its own.

Not that it mattered; he had all the time in the world to think up the next step. So much time…

An explosion just behind him made him jump right into the ice wall, slamming his forehead on the surprisingly strong expanse.

'No sleeping!' Sadistic crowed from afar.

Toothless growled and refused to turn around, denying the Skrill the satisfaction of seeing his anger… or his deeply rooted exhaustion. Instead, he began sharpening his claws on the stone underpaw, and remained standing as he stared out at the nest. At worst, he might be able to learn to doze on his paws…

O-O-O

Two Big-Gronckles smacked their bulbous tails together, then turned around and butted heads… Or possibly the other way around; Toothless still wasn't sure with some of them. A third, smaller dragon of the same kind watched from a nearby rock, unmoved as the two combatants began trying to knock each other over.

'You're obnoxious!'

'I'm proud!'

It was, Toothless mused, somewhat fitting that the argument going on by the pond, between Hefnd and Star, so perfectly fit what the dragons he was watching fight might very well be saying. He couldn't hear them, of course, they were on the other side of the nest, but Hefnd and Star were good substitutes.

'Which is another word for obnoxious,' Hefnd snarled in the background, his voice lacking any real bite to it. Toothless had heard worse from a certain Nótt back in the day. Hefnd and Star weren't arguing like the Thorstons usually did, there was genuine annoyance on both their parts, but it was somewhere below serious, like a petty squabble they had gone over a thousand times before, damped down with the lethargy that infected everything in this terrible place.

The not-Gronckles continued to slam their heads or possibly tails together.

'And what does being proud have to do with stinking up the whole pond?' Hefnd asked loudly after a long pause.

'I did not,' Star barked. 'I do not stink!'

'Oh, right,' Hefnd growled. 'That was it. You're so proud you think your-'

'And I am a delicate, impressionable female, so watch your mouth!' There was a distinct slapping sound, just as the dragons Toothless was watching both smacked into the ground in a clumsy maneuver he bet they both immediately regretted. On the bright side, he now knew which side was the head; they wouldn't be reeling around in a daze if they had just smacked their tails.

Another slapping sound rang out, and Star yelped. 'That hurt!' she complained.

'Yes, it did,' Hefnd retorted. 'That's what you get. Want more?'

Toothless went back to attempting to ignore their bickering, more interested in the scene in front of him. The big-Gronckles, whatever they were called, were parting ways, and the smaller one that had watched their fight went with neither of them. That proved wrong his theory that they were fighting for a mate, so the whole thing had accomplished nothing…

Much like his watching the nest. Not one dragon had looked his way, and none had come to maintain the ice wall, which was noticeably thinner than it had been the first time he saw it. By this time tomorrow, running into it like he had would probably shatter a good portion of it.

A crackle of light up at the top of the mountain caught his attention, and he looked up to see a Skrill descending, its body flickering with lightning, as usual. The other dragons gave it a wide berth, likely because of the lightning, not its general personality, and it flew onward, passing directly over him and flying down to deposit their daily fish.

'You're late!' Sadistic snarled from his spot above them all.

'You don't care anyway,' the Skrill retorted lazily, flying up to perch near Sadistic. 'Can I put them back early, or are you going to whine about it?'

'No, you can't,' Sadistic rumbled. 'Shut up and sit down.'

Toothless waited until he was sure they wouldn't be saying anything else, then made his way over to the meager pile of fish. This time it was one big, disorganized mess, and Hefnd was already there, sorting it out into five portions.

Hefnd looked up, noticing Toothless just as he finished pawing the fish around. He growled quietly and tossed his head in the direction of the closest pile. 'Yours.'

Toothless looked at the three fish, two small and one large, that he had been given. Then he eyed the two portions Hefnd was standing over, both of which contained three large fish. They were both unfair portions, and his first instinct was to call Hefnd out on it… But he could be smart about it.

'I think fairness is important,' he said calmly, meeting Hefnd's stare with one of his own. 'But some of us need more than others. If you were just giving your father the best of the fish, I would understand.'

'You're new around here,' Hefnd growled back. 'You don't get to call me out. Those who have been here longest get the best fish when there are no piles.'

'What's the order of seniority, then?' Toothless asked. He wasn't entirely sure, but he didn't think that was really how Hefnd was dividing up the food. His pile was smaller than Hefnd's, but so were the other two, both containing three small fish.

'You are at the bottom,' Hefnd snorted. 'Then Star, then me and my father. Grey doesn't count.'

'She would be on top?' Toothless asked.

'By a long shot,' Hefnd grumbled. 'But like I said, she doesn't count. She's smaller and doesn't eat as much. So take your share and stop whining about fairness.'

That was a challenge, and Toothless knew he couldn't back down without there being consequences, such as being relegated to the worst portions of fish. 'Make me,' he growled, holding back half a dozen more creative responses for the time being.

Hefnd stiffened, his eyes narrowing to slits. 'What was that?'

'Make me, if you can,' Toothless said coldly. He was tired, but not too tired to fight someone who looked half-starved… and tired enough to be willing to fight, just to end the argument. 'You talk like you want to fight, so back it up.'

Hefnd glanced at the wall behind Toothless, atop which one of the Skrill was perched, and shook his head. 'Not now,' he snarled, stamping on the tails of his share of fish and piercing them with his claws. 'The moment nobody is watching, I'll put you in your place. Not before.'

'You'll try,' Toothless snorted. This was probably where Maour would advise he patch things up with the other male, but he just didn't feel like it. Maybe later. He took his fish, small though they were, and swallowed them. None were large enough to be worth biting into, and his stomach gurgled forlornly when he was finished, as if complaining about his stinginess.

'Get used to it,' he grumbled to himself, keeping his eyes off the other fish piles. He wasn't going to steal from the others; that was a fast path to everyone hating him… or fearing him, if he backed such an act up with threats. Not what he wanted.

Two rocks scraped together on the far side of the area, and Star's ears perked up. 'Time for a show,' she purred, coming up to take her fish and quickly retreating to Hefnd's side.

Toothless settled down a few paces away from the others, mostly to avoid being right across from Hefnd, and watched as Grey came out to eat her fish. He felt oddly rude, staring at her smooth, pale form as she ate. Everyone aside from Einn was watching, waiting for whatever performance she was about to put on.

Maybe it was just his lack of sleep and twitchy nerves that had him nervous about what was going to happen. They were all prisoners and Grey apparently liked entertaining people; it shouldn't have been odd that they were all anticipating the one interesting thing that was likely to happen that day.

'Does anyone have some ice?' Grey asked, having finished the last of her fish.

Toothless looked around at the walls of ice penning them in, and the massive ice mountain above their heads, wondering if she was serious. Was taking ice even allowed? Their Skrill guard certainly didn't seem to care; he looked half asleep, his tail dangling down from his perch.

'Because I know how to make some, if you don't,' Grey said lightly. 'Just spit and wait!'

Toothless forced a small chuckle, mostly to break the awkward silence.

'See, he gets it!' Grey exclaimed, her voice bright and cheery. 'And believe me, it's the best way to make ice around here. The other ways aren't so great when they melt, as we all know...'

Star let out a barking laugh, loud and long, and Hefnd chuckled along with her. This time, Toothless remained silent, mostly because he didn't get the reference.

'Oh, Grey, I think you need to explain that one,' Star said, looking over at Toothless. 'My new friend wasn't here to see that.'

Grey's face froze for a moment; it was a subtle shift, the way her ears stilled and her eyes darted from Star to Toothless, but he saw it before she shook her head. 'I don't think that's as funny as the jokes I have-'

'No, it's better,' Star purred. 'Go on, tell it.'

'Okay…' Grey turned away from them for a moment, then turned back again, her face as bright and open as ever. 'So, you know the pits we sleep in, right?' she asked, looking directly at Toothless.

'Sleep is a generous word,' he said.

'Yes, it is,' Grey said, nodding vigorously. 'Well, back when I first got here, I had a plan to escape.'

Toothless glanced up at the Skrill, and saw that he wasn't paying any more attention than before, even though Grey had said 'escape' loud enough to be heard.

'My plan was to make ice,' Grey continued. 'The more ice I made, the shallower the pit got, and eventually I would be able to jump out, right?'

'Right…' Toothless said slowly, wondering where this was going.

'So I did, I made as much ice as I could, but when I went to sleep, it froze around me,' she said quickly. 'And then I had to melt it. So that didn't work. Now, my next joke-'

'Wait, you didn't tell the best part!' Star interrupted.

'I think I got it,' Toothless said. He had just gotten what Grey was talking about, and he wanted nothing more than to move away from that terrible story. There were only a few ways to bring water into that pit in any substantial amount, and neither of the two he could think of were pleasant to be trapped in and then forced to melt around oneself in the morning. 'Let's talk about something else.'

'But it's so much funnier when she tells it,' Star insisted.

Toothless stood, turned, and glared at her. 'No. I don't want to hear it.' He turned back to Grey, who was watching them both, her face blank of any telling expression. It was odd to see her not beaming with happiness. 'You said you were coming up with a joke for me?' Toothless ventured, feeling more uneasy than ever.

'I was!' Grey exclaimed, going back to cheerful and excited in a heartbeat. 'Here it is. What is black, missing a tailfin, and inside this mountain?'

'Me?' Toothless asked, utterly bemused.

'A Changewing in the dark!' Grey declared proudly.

Star snorted rudely. 'That was terrible,' she proclaimed. 'Look, he's not even laughing.'

Toothless realized that he hadn't laughed, which made sense since he was pretty sure he didn't get the joke. 'It was funny,' he protested weakly. Never in his life had he felt so awkward and uncertain.

'I'll come up with a better one,' Grey promised, before turning her tail on them and running back to her hiding place.

'And that is how you get rid of her,' Star chuckled. 'Just don't laugh at her jokes. They're the only reason she comes out every day.'

'Am I…' He trailed off, trying to get his extremely mixed feelings into words. 'What was that?'

'A terrible attempt at a joke, obviously,' Hefnd grumbled. 'Just don't encourage her.'

'Encourage her?' Toothless asked incredulously.

'Yes, her.' Hefnd gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. 'Just go along with what we do.'

'Rotten fish to that,' he shot back with a glare. He felt terrible about what he had just witnessed, and the more he thought about it, the more he understood why. 'You're acting like she's just some fun entertainment to mock and laugh at and ignore.'

'Because she is,' Star huffed.

'If I could bite you right now without getting shocked,' Toothless said venomously, 'I would. Something is twisted here aside from the Skrill and this never-melting ice and the dragons on the other side, and I'm not going to just laugh and join in.' He felt soiled just from sitting next to Star, however warm she was.

'You're making a big deal out of nothing,' Star growled. She bared her teeth at him, apparently bothered by what he had said. 'Stop throwing a fit about the only real entertainment we get around here.'

'I'd rather die of boredom than laugh at something like that,' Toothless snarled.

'Then go die of boredom and stop bothering us!' Hefnd growled.

Toothless turned his back on them and walked away. He stalked over to the ice wall and stared out into the mountain refuge beyond, mostly so he didn't have to look at the people he was trapped with.

His thoughts were still whirling, as confused as a flock of Terrors when a larger dragon dove through them, and he growled to himself as he tried to put them back in order.

There was something deeply wrong with the display he had just sat through, the way Grey was all cheer and no bite, taking Star's mean-spirited comments and requests in stride. He knew friendly joking and even not-so-friendly joking, nobody lived on the same island as the Myrkurs for any length of time without becoming familiar with their style of humor. This was nothing like that.

He growled again, louder this time, and pointedly turned his back on the scene out beyond the ice. Star and Hefnd might be terrible people, or just very bored, or something else entirely, he didn't know and he couldn't bring himself to care. What he did care about was the cracked, false cheer with which Grey had responded to him not getting the joke. It reminded him of Maour, back when they had first met, though the situation was entirely different…

Or maybe not, on second thought. He was flightless, trapped on a hostile island, and someone clearly needed a friend. He might as well fall back on the basics; his interest in Maour had served them both well last time. Maybe Grey could help him escape.

In fact, he thought as he turned toward her rock pile, she definitely could help him plan an escape. She was probably the most knowledgeable prisoner, and by far the most agreeable. Too agreeable; he would be more comfortable talking to her if she wasn't so relentlessly cheerful.

His comfort didn't matter, though, so he sat on his tail by the pile of rubble and chuffed loudly.

There was no response, which he really should have expected. 'Grey?' he called out.

'I am busy thinking of better jokes,' Grey replied, outwardly cheerful. He had a hard time believing she was actually in a good mood, and the few cracks in her composure he had seen recently seemed to support that.

'Your joke wasn't bad,' he said. 'I just did not get it. I do not know what a Changewing is.' He didn't feel so good about lying to her - he did know what a Changewing was - but getting her into explaining things seemed like it would be helpful. Doubly so if it made her think her joke not making him laugh was his fault, which it partly was.

'You do not?' Grey asked. 'How could you not? There are a dozen living out there, they are very noticeable.'

'There are many exotic species I don't recognize,' he rumbled. 'Maybe you could explain the joke to me?'

'Explaining jokes takes all the fun out of them,' Grey grumbled. 'But okay. You are big and black and missing a tailfin, right?'

'Yes,' he hummed, declining to argue that he wasn't all that big. Compared to her or the other Night Furies held captive here, he definitely was.

'So I set it up so that you would think I was talking about you, but I was actually talking about a Changewing in the dark, because they can make themselves clear like ice and don't have tailfins. Clear in the dark means black like a shadow, missing a tailfin… get it?'

'Now I do,' he assured her. 'It is funny. Maybe you could tell me more about this place, so I will understand all of your future jokes?'

'I can do that,' Grey said quietly after a moment's pause. 'What don't you know?'

'I don't know why I am here, or what kinds of dragons live out there, or why they live out there, or where we are, or who is in charge, or anything about this place,' he said. 'Any of that would be helpful.'

'So it would be fair to say you know what you don't know, but don't know what else you might know?' Grey asked.

Toothless couldn't see her, but he had no trouble seeing the humor in that. 'I don't know,' he chuckled. 'Do you know?'

'I know some things,' Grey said cheerily. 'This is the ice nest. Everyone says it is the biggest, best nest ever.'

Toothless glanced around the miserable little enclosure they were stuck in, then looked out at the rest of the mountain's interior. 'For dragons who do not happen to be like us, I guess,' he said.

'For everyone else,' Grey agreed in a flat voice.

'Why is that?' he asked.

Grey didn't answer.

'Why do they call this the best nest?' he asked after the awkward silence was too much to bear. If she didn't feel up to answering, then he would pretend he hadn't asked, and ask something else.

'They have plenty of food, all the space they could want, and safety,' Grey huffed. 'I do not think I want to answer any more questions today.'

'Okay, sorry if I am bothering you,' Toothless hummed reassuringly. He could afford to go slow with her; time was one of the few things he had plenty of. Apparently, his captors intended him to be here indefinitely, just like the others… and the longer he waited, the more time Maour and Von had to find him, or at least find out where he was, and get help. Or pull off some crazy plan, though he'd rather his siblings go home, bring an army of their kin, and not take any dangerous chances.

'Ask tomorrow?' Grey asked hopefully.

'I'll be here,' he promised.

O-O-O

"This is as good a place as any," Maour said quietly.

Ruffnut leaned forward, her hand on his armored shoulder for balance, and did her best to memorize the layout of the island in front of them. Von was coming in fast and at just the right angle to make actually seeing the island tricky… and the island's layout wasn't doing her any favors in that area either.

'It looks like a terrible place,' Von observed. 'No green at all.'

"Hey, puke can be green," Ruffnut objected. "By the looks of it, they've got a lot of taverns, so they'll have a lot of puke too." The island was one half docks and the sort of seedy operations that always seemed to grow near busy docks, and one half large stone buildings. There wasn't a single tree on the island, and if there was any grass, it wasn't visible from where they were. The closest thing to open space was the loading bays near the docks, dotted with pallets of raw material, but otherwise unoccupied. Not that she cared about those.

"Lots of sailors, plenty of money changing hands, and more importantly, plenty of information," Maour said calmly. He was calm far too often for Ruffnut's liking. It wasn't a normal, boring calm, it was one that made her want to tell him to lighten up. Not that she would; he was entitled to act like a scary… whatever… if it got them closer to rescuing Toothless. Or even just finding Toothless. She would be the same way if someone had taken Boom from her.

"We're going with the first plan, then?" she asked eagerly.

'If I can find somewhere to drop you off,' Von rumbled. 'I did not expect the island to be so active in the middle of the night. Do these people sleep in the day?'

"Some of them might," Maour allowed. "Try circling around, there might be an alley or garbage dump or something. Waste has to collect somewhere to be gotten rid of."

"Waste goes out, we go in," Ruffnut quipped. Neither Maour nor Von sighed, or groaned, or otherwise indicated that they had caught her dirty joke, which she was inclined to believe meant it had gone right over their heads. She could have made it more explicit, but that would take the fun out of letting them figure it out afterward.

"Focus on why we're here," Maour said in his scary quiet voice. "You're a crazy thrill-seeker looking to put a knife in a Skrill's eye."

"And you're a dark, mysterious hunter who's after information on dragons in general, where they gather, everything and anything," Ruffnut retorted. "I know my cover story, you know my cover story, I know your cover story… should I go on?" She didn't even need to know his story, despite his insistence that it might be useful. They weren't planning to go to the same taverns; the less time they spent on this island, the better, even if splitting up was more dangerous. Not that she intended to get into any trouble; she could easily pass for her brother, and nobody ever looked twice at him. She was magnificent and alluring, of course, entirely worth robbing just to get a look at her face, but Tuffnut was not.

"Go on and find out where the Skrill live," Maour said as Von pulled in close to the backside of the island. The stone buildings were packed tightly along the edge of a rocky slope that led down to a dismal excuse for a shoreline, but there were still spaces between them, however narrow. Filthy spaces she could already smell as they approached, but that just added to their charm. And hers, since she fully intended to keep some of the muck that was certain to get stuck in her boots.

'Ruffnut,' Von hissed as she dropped down to land in the alleyway, and what Ruffnut assumed was not a paw-deep coating of mud. 'You will not track any of this onto my saddle.'

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ruffnut said flippantly, hopping off to land on her own two feet. She had already abandoned breathing through her nose, so the squelching noises and odors she was probably provoking by stirring the muck didn't bother her. "Back here before dawn?"

'Just before,' Von confirmed, leaping away from the alleyway with a low moan of disgust. 'Humans are horrid.'

"More so in high concentrations," Maour muttered. "Good thing nobody thought to put windows in these… warehouses, I think."

"Windows would be way too fancy for this heap of cracked stone, rotten wood and booze," Ruffnut agreed, stepping out onto the dirt-packed excuse for a road that wound between the stone buildings. Nobody saw her exit, and a moment later Maour came out into the moonlight, draped in a black cloak she only knew he had because he had been breaking it out to use as a blanket recently. He was crazy, keeping something like that under his armor all the time, but it was a useful kind of crazy. He couldn't rearrange his hair and slouch to pass as a random Viking guy with muscle issues like she could.

"Before dawn," he said, pulling his hood down.

"Before then, and if you don't make it I'll have Von try and burn the place down," Ruffnut said, pulling the ties out of her hair and messing it up, demolishing her signature look in moments. She was on the hunt for information, and while she didn't think anyone on this miserable island would know what a Night Fury looked like well enough to recognize her signature hairstyle, one never knew.

Author's Note:  Short chapter this time around, mostly because the next events in both timelines are much better done as beginnings to long scenes, not shoved in halfway through or at the end. I'm planning on doing a hybrid chapter structure to follow the two separate plot threads. It'll go 'Full A, half A and half B, Full B, half B and half A' in structure, so that we never go two full chapters on the same perspective, but also don't jump back and forth every single chapter. This would be a 'half A and half B' chapter (though, again, a shorter one than usual).

Chapter Text

Ruffnut strolled down the empty, dark street, her boots clunking against the motley array of stones that made up the ground. She eyed the buildings she passed, taking in the important parts. Window, boarded-up window, door, flying body-

She ducked, but the lanky man's heels clipped her shoulder anyway, sending her sprawling in the narrow street. She tucked, rolled, and sprang back up with no trouble at all, of course, years of being knocked around made that second nature, but the man who had been flung out the door of a ratty, nondescript building wasn't nearly so competent.

"Work on your flying drop kicks," she told the groaning body twitching in the gutter. He responded by puking and crawling away. This was already looking to be her kind of island, all right. She had clearly found a tavern of some sort, and rough enough that they were throwing out the drunkards the right way. None of the taverns on Mahelmetan did that, their idea of 'throwing' someone out was a brisk shove and maybe a punch to the face.

She liked the literal interpretation of things, so she approached the sturdy wooden door and pulled it open. This would be her first stop of the night, and hopefully not her last; it wouldn't be any fun if she found what she was looking for right away.

The door squeaked ominously as she shoved it open – and where was that squeak when it could have given her warning a few moments ago – but she didn't let that stop her. What she saw inside was worth going for. It was indeed a tavern, but she was betting it was the one meant for locals, not foreigners. Everything was worn, but nothing was dirty, and everyone in the room was giving her a stink eye.

She tilted her head and stared challengingly at the three younger men crowded around a table far too nice for any tavern that didn't have its patrons' respect already. She was tall, her hair was messy, and she knew for a fact that she could look unnerving when she wanted. Add in that they probably weren't sure who she was, or even if she was male or female, and they were too uncertain to say or do anything.

"Closed," an old man said from behind the counter. He hefted a mug as if contemplating whether to throw it at her, a polishing rag dangling forgotten from his other hand. There was a jagged gash across his forehead, not new but not even close to fully healed, and another running down the bridge of his nose. He looked like exactly the sort of person she was looking for.

"Eh, I don't mind," she said, pulling out a chair at an unoccupied table, of which there were quite a few. "Visiting family round here, heard this is the only place that doesn't suck Gronckle boulders." One of her primary roles back home was infiltration, and infiltrating a place like this was child's play. Toe the line with the attitude, make the bartender feel good about himself, imply 'in' status as family of a local, it was easy. She just had to make being thrown out seem like more trouble than it was worth.

"Wha' family?" One of the women by the counter asked suspiciously, setting her oversized mug down to turn and stare at Ruffnut.

"No clue, looking for them, got told they lived here a while," Ruffnut lied. "Might not live here now, but who knows." She wasn't a local, not quite, but she just needed a plausible excuse for them, not a full backstory. Also, there was a chance some busybody would demand to go see her relative or otherwise pick her apart if she gave them anything checkable… It was a subtle art, and thus one she innately failed at, but she'd had lots of practice because Tuffnut was insufferable if he could consistently beat her at anything.

"Name?" the other woman asked, and Ruffnut sensed the rest of the tavern's occupants relaxing. It was subtle, one man going back to his food, another leaning back in his chair, a group of people resuming their muffled conversation… She wasn't in, but she was tolerable and someone else was making her their problem for the moment. So long as the woman questioning her didn't raise a stink, she wouldn't be thrown out.

"Last name Thorston, she changes the first name but always keeps the last," Ruffnut reported. She wasn't here to find her mom, who was off looking for her husband, and Ruffnut doubted he was anywhere so relatively close to home as this. It was a good cover, though, and one she didn't need to fake and have trouble keeping straight. "Looks like me, longer hair, rough, searching for a guy so she can knock him out and drag him home."

"Never seen 'er," the woman admitted. "I could ask around, though."

"Don't bother, I'll do it," Ruffnut said, waving her hand. "You can help me out in another way, though. Got any Skrill round these parts?"

The woman stared at her, brows furrowed, then slowly rose from the bar and stomped over, dropping into the sturdy chair opposite Ruffnut's table. "Why'd you ask? Mother go messin' with dragons?"

"Hah, no," Ruffnut scoffed. "This one's all me. I wanna get a few impressive kills under my belt, and this Berserker dude back home kept braggin' about how Skrill are the best o' everything, so I'm gonna stab one and bring back the skull to spite him."

The woman leaned forward. "Wha' makes ya think there're any of those around here? Or that ye'd have a chance in Helheim of gettin' close to one?" Her reaction didn't seem quite right to Ruffnut; a little too serious, far too specific, redirecting with questions…

"I'm amazing," Ruffnut said truthfully. "Now, Skrill. What do you know?"

"Nothing you need to hear," the woman scoffed. "Blood yerself on some lesser dragons first."

"Been there, done that," Ruffnut shot back. "Gronckles, Zipplebacks, Whispering Deaths, all easy pickings."

"Yak dung," someone from a nearby table contributed. Ruffnut turned to give him a glare, but he was already slouching his way up to the counter for something, his ratty brown cloak hanging down over hunched shoulders.

"Even if I did believe you," the woman said carefully, drawing Ruffnut's attention back to her, "Goin' after a Skrill alone is a fancy way to die with nothing to show for it."

"Not even glorious death in battle?" Ruffnut asked. She had the feeling the woman was building up to something, and was curious as to what it was. An offer to come along would be awkward, to say the least, but if the woman intended to give her a contact of some kind, mercenaries or some other sort of paid assistance, Maour might just be willing to follow it up.

"It's not so glorious if you fail," the woman said darkly. "Ye need help, backup, supplies… There're Skrill around 'ere, but gettin' to one means gettin' past everythin' around it."

"Hit me with that sweet knowledge," Ruffnut requested, drawing an annoyed grimace from the other woman. "Where, when, and what?"

"I'm not tellin' you exactly where, you'll just go and get yerself killed, but I'll tell you what it's like and who to go to if you really want a chance." The woman huffed. "Up North, way up North, there's a field of icebergs. In the middle, there's some kind of dragon nest, but nobody's ever seen it and lived to tell the tale."

"Sounds familiar," Ruffnut said thoughtfully. The icebergs were new, but they served the same purpose as sea stacks… "Does this iceberg field have some kind of fog?"

"It's plenty hard to sail through without," the woman said quietly. "No fog, but storms are common, and perfect weather still means you're takin' chances on mountains o' ice. Tha's not the problem. All the islands closest to it are constantly under siege, there's nowhere to stop and resupply, nowhere to retreat to. Dragons o' all kinds fly over, destroy, raid, ruin everything. They do it over and over until nobody bothers living there, and then another island, further out, starts comin' under attack."

"So there are a bunch of dead villages and islands with nobody on them around, why's that matter to me?" Ruffnut asked. "I go in, hang out at the latest place to be under siege, and wait until lighting strikes."

"That'd get you killed," the woman informed her. "Seen plenty of idiots try it. There aren't real raids, not like the weaklings down South get, these are attacks. Not for food, for destruction."

"But there are Skrill." She had a general direction and a landmark to look for; a nest in the middle of a field of icebergs, surrounded by dead islands? Easy to find even without getting it marked on a map for her convenience.

"Some, and worse things," the woman said, staring at her. "Far worse things. You'll need help. That's where he comes in. Want my advice?"

"Can I get away with not hearing it?" Ruffnut asked sarcastically.

"You remind me o' myself, back in the day, so no," the woman informed her. "I was young, stupid, hunting dragons seemed like fun. It ain't, not up 'ere. Either go down South and try yer luck there, or join up with the ones makin' a difference up further North."

"Who are…" Ruffnut said, hoping to drag out a few names, maybe a description or two.

"Ain't got a name, but they're big and organized," the woman said. "Led by a big man wit' black hair and a polearm, they go 'round fightin' off the dragons and tryin' to keep the islands alive. Thor's work, what they're doin'. Join up wit' them, you'll get your fill of killin' dragons, and you'll do it with plenty o' allies and get paid, too."

"The big guy got a name?" Ruffnut asked. "So I can ask around, make sure I got the right people when I sign up." Not that she intended to, but if there was some meathead running around killing dragons near where Toothless had been taken, he might be useful. This woman certainly had a high opinion of what he was doing, though she was also of the opinion that the dragons were attacking for the sake of it, so she might not be all that reliable.

"I don't quite know," the woman admitted. "Seen 'is people in action, seen 'em defend the village I was stoppin' in, but never seen 'im myself. Somebody told me 'bout him, but I'd taken a Nadder tail to the helmet and don't remember much other than that description… His name was somethin' close to stupid, somethin' funny."

Ruffnut eyed the mug in the woman's grasp, and wondered how she seemed to be getting drunker as she spoke… without drinking from it. Maybe the mead was only now kicking in. Or maybe she was secretly amazing at sneaking drinks without being noticed.

"Dragon, but not dragon," the woman continued, staring over Ruffnut's shoulder at nothing in particular. "Drago, I think. Or Ragon, or Drag-man, or Ragged Anne, but that'd be really odd…"

"Drago, then," Ruffnut concluded, as that was the only name that sounded even somewhat plausible. "You're telling me to look for a guy called Drago and his band of merry men."

"They're not merry," the woman muttered, giving her a strange look.

"Nah, but I'll be sure to lighten them up." She crossed her arms and leaned back, refraining from putting a boot on the table solely because the old bartender was giving her the stink eye again, somehow anticipating that urge. "Tell me more about this head-banging good time you had fighting dragons with the drag-o man."

O-O-O

The sound of metal on metal had drawn Maour in from a few streets away. He watched the open-air blacksmithing stall from a distance, leaning against a stone building and feigning disinterest as well as he could… which wasn't very well. He felt like a wound spring with nowhere to go, and thinking about forging things led him to thinking about Toothless, which just made him more tense.

Seeing a blacksmith didn't make him feel any better, but he decided that if he was going to be gathering information, he might as well start with what he knew best. Blacksmiths tended to collect a lot of dragon-related news anyway, what with being the ones stuck replacing melted, shattered, or otherwise broken weapons. He knew from experience that dragon-fighting damage was mostly different from weapon-on-weapon damage.

It was the middle of the night, though, so he was cautious in approaching the burly man working iron against an anvil that had definitely seen better days. "Got time for an appraisal?" he called out.

"No," the blacksmith yelled back, far louder than necessary. He punctuated his refusal with a particularly hard slam of the hammer. "Only open between noon and dusk, don't give out orders after dusk either."

"This is more me seeking a second opinion," Maour said. "I've got this weird metal, you see, and I'm trying to find someone who has seen it before."

"Don't care," the blacksmith grunted, still not looking at him. He was working on something thick and tapered at one end, though that was all Maour could tell from the shape of the hot metal.

"Well, I'm-" Maour cut himself off when the man whirled, hoisting a forge hammer up to point at him.

"Get off my street," the blacksmith grunted.

Maour knew a waste of time when he saw one - unless that waste was in the form of a totally impractical invention, though Toothless usually helped him find uses for even the weirdest ideas - so he turned away and quickly put some distance between himself and the blacksmith.

"Well, I guess it makes sense some random guy working after midnight isn't going to be too happy," he muttered. "Back to the first plan, go find somewhere people get drunk and talk to them." It couldn't be said that he liked that plan, but it had more promise than annoying an already-angry blacksmith.

In the quest to find the hammering sound he had strayed into a part of the island that consisted mostly of storehouses, some barred and some with open doors betraying empty interiors. He wandered down the street, away from the hammering, until he found signs of life in one of the empty warehouses.

A group of men, ten in total, were throwing down little blocks of wood onto a crate, staring at each other and occasionally gathering them up again. Maour wasn't so out of touch with normal Viking interactions that he didn't recognize that a game of some sort was going on, but he had no idea what kind of game it was. The flickering light of a few lanterns set around on other empty crates didn't help him see what they were doing, either.

One of them looked up, saw him, and promptly waved him over. They seemed to be in a good mood, a stark contrast to the last person he had met, so he went over to them.

"We've got room for another," the man who had waved him over said jovially. "Ante's ten or a good story, twelve is the lucky number."

"I've got plenty of stories, but no idea what you're playing," Maour said, staring down at the chunks of wood. They were somewhat uniform in shape, all being little cubes. He might have thought they were dice, Fishlegs had a few of those, but none of the cubes were marked.

"Game of skill," one of the men drawled with a strange accent. "Take turns rolling, aim for marks on crate. More in marks means more points. Bet on results." He gestured to the crate, which did indeed have a bunch of shapes carved into the top.

"Or just hang around and talk while those of us who have money to spare give it all to Uldir, here," the man next to him offered. "He always wins."

"This is because I am expert at all things thrown," the man bragged, scooping up the half-dozen pieces of wood.

Maour watched as the game went on for a few rolls. It was somewhat simple, but still more complicated than he would have expected. They had a whole system of betting, who was allowed to add in currency - of several different kinds, none of which he knew - and who won what depending on the outcome. There was more nuance in the system of betting than the actual game, really.

He lingered for a bit, but he had come to this somewhat miserable island for information, not lackluster entertainment, so he soon backed away during a heated argument over whether one of the men had kicked the crate right as another rolled. To his surprise, one of the others went with him, following him out of the warehouse.

"You look like you're looking for work," the man said without any prompting.

"What gives you that idea?" Maour asked, genuinely curious.

"No money to gamble with, foreign, wandering around a shipping port in the middle of the night," the man said confidently, gesturing to him. "You came in on a ship with an overenthusiastic captain, I'm guessing, and when he didn't make ends meet on his cargo, laid you off. Am I right?"

"Close enough," Maour lied. It wasn't like he could say how he had really got here; the last time someone didn't understand how he had gotten onto an island, he had ended up taking an arrow. For Toothless…

"Bad move," the man said, taking a step back. "Yeah, I get that. What skills you got?"

"Plenty, but what would you be hiring me for?" he asked. "I'm not looking to go just anywhere. I'm out here for my own reasons."

"Didn't say otherwise," the man said with a grin. "Come on, walk and talk." He headed out onto the street, headed toward the other side of the island, and Maour walked alongside him.

"The thing you gotta understand about business out here is that it's dying in most areas," the man told him. "Your ship was some sort of normal cargo, right? Food, wood, something necessary to live off of?"

"Pretty much," Maour confirmed.

"Worth less and less every year," the man said. "Because there's less and less people out here to buy it every year. No, there are only two trades worth following now. Mercenary and dragon hunting."

"Which are you?" Maour asked carefully.

"Eret, son of Eret, finest dragon trapper alive, at your service," the man said. "You may have heard of me."

"Nope." He definitely hadn't heard of someone who claimed trapping dragons was his profession, and a profitable one at that. They just didn't have that down where he lived, possibly because there was no nest concentrating dragons into one general area. That apparently wasn't the case here…

Which meant that he wasn't about to walk away, not yet. Trapping dragons meant finding dragons, which meant knowing where dragons were. It was probably better for his search that Eret wasn't a mercenary… even though Maour would have liked him better if he were.

"Pity," Eret said. "Well, I've not heard of you either. Anyway, we go out, do sweeps of the Razed Isles, catch the scavengers hanging around there. Drago pays well for every one we bring back, and we keep far from his main fleets most of the time, so the Terrors don't rip us limb from limb."

"Terrible Terrors?" Maour asked, seizing on the one term he thought he might understand without any further explanation.

"No," Eret said, proving him wrong. "Not just them, anyway, those little pests aren't what I'm talking about. Around here, we call the massive clouds of bloodthirsty dragons that attack islands Terrors, like you would call a group of fish a school, or a group of crows a murder."

"Never heard that one," Maour murmured, working to fit that explanation into his understanding of the world. He could maybe see a raid like those against Berk back in the day called a Terror, though no self-respecting Viking would say it with the subdued fear and respect that Eret said it. But that had been solved, it had stopped happening with the death of the Queen… Which meant there might be another Queen out here.

"What causes these Terrors?" he asked.

"Depends on what rumors you want to believe," Eret laughed. "Living mountains of scale? Icebergs treated as gods by the dragons? A lone human directing a campaign of vengeance against their own kind? A simple, bestial need to destroy? Odin's wrath? The start of Ragnarok? Take your pick, they all have as much evidence for them."

"Which is to say none, or none credible," Maour said. Some of those rumors sounded a lot more plausible to him, given what he had seen in the past. A mountain of scale could very well describe the Queen, and he himself could have been misinterpreted as a lone human among a pack of dragons if he and Toothless had ever been seen flying with other dragons… He wasn't willing to dismiss any of that right away.

"You're catching on," Eret said with a grin. "Whatever the cause, they're out there, they left a bunch of charred hunks of rock in their wake, and they tend to follow Drago around, or he follows them, so staying clear of him until it's payday keeps us safer than most. Interested?"

"Where is all of this happening?" Maour asked. "Maybe, if it's closer to where I want to go…"

"Where do you want to go?" Eret asked. They passed a building with bright windows, and he turned to look inside. "Crowded tonight," he commented as they passed.

"I'm looking for where Skrill nest," Maour said. He hadn't meant to give that explanation, that was more Ruffnut's cover story, but Eret was more likely than most to actually have an answer. "Heard of some flying this way."

"Well…" Eret looked his cloaked form up and down. "You don't do so well at hiding what's under there, so I don't doubt you've got something to back that up," he said dubiously. "But Skrill? We don't go after the big targets often, but Drago's bounties would make it a big payday…"

They walked in silence for a short while. A series of docks came into sight in the distance, masts towering above the rooftops.

"No, not worth it," Eret said regretfully. "I like breathing more than spending potential riches. Don't know where they would nest, anyway. Probably with all the rest, and that's a fool's errand."

"Where do all the dragons nest?" Maour asked. "Since you won't be going."

"Just follow a Terror, or sail into one, the results will be the same," Eret scoffed. "The only one who can take on a Terror is Drago, and even he doesn't follow them home. He wouldn't take well to you trying, either. He's got some sort of vendetta and a hatred for fools wasting their lives in the pursuit of glory."

"So he likes you?" Maour asked sarcastically. "You know, since you won't take any risks."

"Oh, he does," Eret assured him, though his grin took on something of a sickly slant. "Mind, he's not exactly all there himself. He's the reason 'crazy dragon rider' is a theory people bandy about without laughing themselves silly."

"Any proof?"

"You like to ask questions, don't you?" Eret shot back. "He says he's seen them, half his men say so, but if the boss says to lie, they lie, and I've never seen it. Never been stupid enough to get close enough to find out. If you do, do me a favor and keep it to yourself. I like sleeping at night."

"And where do I find him?" Maour asked.

"Nah, I'm done answering questions," Eret quipped. They had arrived at the docks proper, and he pointed out a somewhat rickety old ship. "This one's mine, if you decide you want to sign on for some low-stakes dragon trapping. We're headed out tomorrow night. Aside from that, get lost." His voice was jovial, but Maour was pretty sure he had hit a nerve somewhere in his line of questioning, because there was no chance he was going to be allowed to hang around. There was something hard in Eret's gaze, hard and frightened.

"I might take you up on that," Maour said.

"You do that," Eret called back, having made his way up his ship's gangplank. "But I'm not taking you to meet Drago if you do. He doesn't like people who ask questions."

O-O-O

Von didn't like this island – it reeked of human waste, among other things – but she had to admit that the large, stone buildings were very nice. Not because they were nice to look at, or because they were useful, but because they had large, flat tops with plenty of space for her to prowl.

She leaped from rooftop to rooftop with no worry, confident that there was nobody below to see her, and that even if there was, the buildings were clustered so close together that she wasn't visible for more than a heartbeat at a time anyway. They were so high, too; she didn't think a normal Viking would be able to hit her with anything thrown, and most Vikings tended to default to throwing first.

Still, she checked the ground whenever she got a chance. She wasn't following Ruffnut or Maour, Ruffnut had gone inside almost immediately and Maour had lost her, but if she passed over them she would know.

In the meantime, she wasn't doing anything of importance. She was just the transportation; Maour and Ruffnut were doing the actual information-gathering. It wasn't like she could go down, toss on a cloak, and talk her way into something. Though that was an amusing mental image, and she could almost believe that some of the particularly inebriated Vikings would fall for it, were she able to speak their language. They came in a variety of body sizes, after all, and she could hunch over…

A light on a rooftop off to her left caught her attention, and she crouched down when she saw movement in front of it. Thin, tall shapes crossed the flat roof, stopping at an edge. There were three that she could see, one holding the torch, one holding something reflective, and the third standing closest to the edge, holding nothing at all.

Curiosity warred with caution, and curiosity won as she remembered, again, that she wasn't going to be able to do anything useful. Maybe eavesdropping would be useful. Maybe it would even help her find her brother. Put that way, she couldn't not try and listen in.

But the rooftops were flat, and what had seemed such a great advantage when she was the only one up here turned into a decided disadvantage now, when she was stalking prey on the same elevation as her. Taking off to fly over would be foolish, and going on paw wasn't much better. Being dark and quick gave her a chance, but if they looked the wrong way they would see her silhouette against the night sky, ruining her attempt at stealth and maybe making it hard for her to pick up Maour and Ruffnut later.

She settled for leaping around to approach from the side and hoping really hard that they were too wrapped up in whatever they were doing to look around and see her. By the time she was close enough to hunker down and listen, she was sure they were distracted; the voices weren't quiet at all.

"Two crates of swords, three of maces, and a dozen halberds," the man holding the light said loudly. "That's all you've got?"

"Business has been slow, and my suppliers dropped a shipment," the man nearest the edge of the roof said quickly. "There's no need for this intimidation, I am good for my word. I just need time to go back and obtain that which my suppliers lost. If you want to do good with your intimidating ways, come with me and lend a frightening face."

"Got guts," the man with the weapon said in a gravelly voice.

"Got our employer's gold and little to show for it, you mean," the one holding the torch corrected. "Drago works on a tight schedule, he doesn't have time for your delays. For all intents and purposes, the rest of this shipment is worthless to him because it was not delivered on time."

"The hazards of doing business out here," the cornered one laughed. Von was no expert on human emotions aside from Maour, but she was pretty sure he was thoroughly worried. Being backed up onto a ledge with no ability to fly and two angry men would do that. She had the occasional nightmare about falling off a cliff with broken wings, she was sure he would share that fear.

"Your hazards, not his," the man with the torch said. "We'll be taking the paltry amount you did procure…"

"Of course, of course," the cornered one agreed.

"... And all of your payment," the other finished. The one with the sword hefted it, turning it so that it flashed with reflected light. Von winced.

"That's totally… Reasonable." The cornered one held his hands out as the weapon menaced him. "Reasonable. Fine. Remuneration for any inconvenience. I would be nothing if it were not for my excellent customer service."

There was a little more to that conversation, but it was just a bunch of veiled threats like the ones Von had already heard. The cornered one, the seller of weapons, eventually descended down a trapdoor in the roof, but the other two didn't immediately follow.

"Now, Mush, we wait," the one with the torch said. "Do you know why?"

"So he can get the payment and bring it to us," the one with the sword, Mush, said.

"And why are we waiting up here?" the other asked patiently.

"To make him think we're not worried about him running," Mush answered. "You taught me this already."

"Repetition is the key to understanding," the other said sagely. "For us and scum like him alike. That and knowing who just needs killing, too. The boss is big on that."

"I'm still not sure on that one," Mush admitted.

"What isn't clear?" the other man asked.

"So, we're fighting dragons," Mush said. "Which I get. But we're buying trapped dragons. Which I would get if we ever did anything with 'em, but we've never been sent to shake down any buyers, so we're not sellin' 'em or sellin' the parts."

"It's not our place to question the boss, Mush," the other man warned. "It's our place to beat up the guys who ask too many questions, among other things."

"But shouldn't we know all the secrets we're protecting?" Mush asked. Von thought that he had a good point, and not just because Mush having all his organization's secrets explained to him now would also clue her in.

"Nah, can't give up a secret ye don't know." He thumped his boot on what Von thought was the trapdoor, though she couldn't quite see it. "Let's get down there now, while he's startin' to think about runnin' but hasn't done it yet. Fun to let 'im squirm, but don't want to let his nerve build up so far he actually tries."

"Aye, got it," Mush said as he followed his superior down. Von was reminded of Eldurhjarta teaching Eldurberg basic healing; they had the same dynamic, with one giving out advice and the other doing his best to absorb it all.

She returned to her exploration of the rooftops, hoping to happen across more clandestine meetings. The roofs weren't as empty and lifeless as she had thought.

O-O-O

The sun did not show itself that morning, instead sending a heavy cover of clouds and rain in its place. Von wasn't about to tolerate that; the moment she had Ruffnut and Maour in her saddle, she made for the sky, the open sky, powering through the clouds to get there. She wouldn't have risked it in a storm, not with her fear of lightning so prominent in her mind, but simple sheets of rain posed no risk except wetness, and the reward was worth it.

"Sunlight, my greatest bane," Ruffnut hissed.

"Are you drunk?" Maour asked tiredly.

"Nope, just blind," Ruffnut quipped. "Hear anything useful?"

"Plenty, but I'm not sure what to do about any of it," Maour admitted. "You?"

"More than you," Ruffnut shot back. "You first."

'Me first,' Von intervened. 'I learned things too. There is someone named Drago buying weapons and dragons, and his own men do not know what he is doing with the dragons.'

"You sure his name wasn't Drag-ann?" Ruffnut slurred. "Or Draggin' Anders? My informant didn't know for sure."

"It's Drago," Maour confirmed. "I heard about him too, from a trapper who sells him dragons. Apparently, he's fighting a horde of dragons that are going around attacking for some reason. I also heard he thinks there's a dragon rider in that horde, but Eret didn't believe it."

"Stop stealing my thunder," Ruffnut complained. "Did you know there's a field of icebergs with a dragon nest in the center?"

'I did not hear that,' Von offered, mostly for Ruffnut's benefit. She was happy to feel useful, but not at the expense of making Ruffnut feel pointless.

"Yeah, it's crazy and impossible to get into with a ship," Ruffnut elaborated. "She wouldn't tell me where it is, exactly, but it's North of here."

"And so is Drago," Maour murmured. "If there's a whole nest as hostile as the Skrill, or even another Queen, this just got a whole lot harder to deal with."

'Two Skrill was already hard enough,' Von huffed. She was almost relieved to find that it was more complicated than that; with just the two Skrill, it had felt that any failing would by default be her own, because she was the only one able to fly and effectively fight them. Now that things were bigger than that, Maour could shine and she didn't have to worry so much about being the one to let everyone down.

"We've got hints, bits and pieces of knowledge, but not enough to understand what's going on," Maour decided after a short while. "The Skrill are probably involved in all of this-"

"Definitely, I got confirmation of that," Ruffnut interrupted. "Come on, that was my whole thing. I wouldn't be telling you about this place if I didn't know the Skrill were there."

"Anyway," Maour said firmly, "we need to know more. If there's a Queen, what the Skrill are in relation to the rest of that nest, why the dragons are attacking, whether we should expect them to be enemies or allies… We need to question a local dragon, and we should probably try and find the flock attacking everyone, in case there really is a rider to talk to."

'Are we going to be solving all of the problems around here before we find Kappi?' Von asked doubtfully. 'I want to save him, not help others, even if that makes me selfish.'

"The moment we know enough to make a good plan, we'll do it, but we need to know what we're flying into," Maour said. "Nothing more. We're not wasting any time."

"But if there is a Queen, Toothless might need some help of the legend-making variety," Ruffnut added. "I call being the one to kill the mountain-sized dragon!"

Von nodded agreeably. 'Yes, you do that. Maour and I will watch from a safe distance.'

"Nah, I meant me and you," Ruffnut said, leaning over to pat Von's side. "Maour already got his."

They flew onward, headed North, to find a place to rest, information, and Kappi, in that order. Von just hoped they weren't going to find out they were too late. That would be all her fault.

Author's Note : Lots of hints toward bigger things built into this chapter. Anyone looking to infer things, keep in mind that our sources here aren't exactly reliable on their own, and that I'm not bound by the laws of canon on what might be up with any named characters you may recognize… Suffice to say I'm having  fun  with my interpretation of certain people. That'll become much clearer soon enough.

Chapter Text

Von liked the snow, particularly when there were fluffy, fat flakes that melted the moment they touched anything. There was an appeal to seeing the world coated in white, untouched and beautiful, sure to pass and leave the world unchanged. Well, the Mykers would make it their duty to leave no patch of snow untouched, using every bit of slush as ammunition in their prank wars, but until then it was beautiful.

She would have gladly endured a snowball to the face, back at home, with everything normal as it should be. That could not be so, though, not with her brother captured, miserable, maybe even– No, the Skrill would not fly him so far and then kill him. He had to be alive, she could not afford to believe anything else.

To dampen her spirits more, the swirling snow was not pretty or pleasant. Instead of fat snowflakes, it was fine, gritty like sand that blinded her and stung her nose. It was like dust in her lungs, and her chest ached from the freezing cold with every inhale. Even the heat of breathing fire at nothing only staved off the ache for so long.

"Can't see anything," Ruffnut said, her voice strangely lopsided. Von heard the mental component clearly, as she always did, but the actual sound was whipped away by the driving wind.

"Neither can I," Maour agreed. He was closer to her head, so his voice was less distorted.

Von squinted at the white-specked horizons, drab and grey clouds meeting equally drab seas, and saw nothing at all. Nothing…

An island, in the distance, its silhouette broken up and obscured by the driving snow. 'Straight ahead,' she said. 'On the horizon.'

"I give up," Ruffnut yelled. Von felt her slumping back. They had tried to make the saddle a little more comfortable for two people, which mostly consisted of Maour shoving it around and trying to work as much padding as possible under the part Ruffnut was sitting on, making it lumpy and misshapen. The end result was something she could feel against her lower back every time Ruffnut moved, annoyingly enough. "I can't see anything!"

"Take us in," Maour requested, ignoring Ruffnut. "We have to get out of this storm before it gets worse."

Von had already been planning on landing regardless; she didn't know exactly how long it had been since her last rest on a sea stack, but she was tired. Her wings weren't shaking under the effort – flying around with two humans on her back was making her stronger, slowly but surely – but they would be by the time she made it to the island.

O-O-O

Her wings were shaking, but not just from the cold. She was shivering from fear, too.

"I don't know what could do this, but I don't look forward to finding out," Maour said quietly as she glided over ice made violent.

There was no other word for it, none that fit. For all that the ice was still, unmoving, it had been formed with some sort of malevolent intent. Spears longer than she was and twice as thick stabbed into the ground of the island, jabbing like claws into flesh. Boulders of ice interspersed in a slick torrent had frozen in the act of pulverizing wooden buildings, solidifying them halfway between normal and nothing but splinters. The ice was not white, it was a speckled, untidy grey, brown, and blue, dirt and wooden bits and other things poking out from some surfaces and strewn on top of others. All was coated in a separate layer of gritty snow, but even that was discolored from the smoke rising from the other buildings, many of which had burned and were even now still smoldering. Worse, this was clearly a place of living, not fighting; there were no obvious weapons smoldering in the ruins, no catapults or more complex siege engines, no cages…

There were humans, down amid the wreckage. She could see a few bonfires that were placed in clearings, and she could see huddled shapes clustered around them. But this was not a village, not anymore. There wasn't enough left to call it that. A few buildings managed to avoid becoming a charred wreck or the site of an ice spire, and some of those stood in the shadow of the ice, in imminent danger of being crushed by falling pieces as it melted. She didn't need Maour's expertise to tell her that this place would need to be rebuilt from scratch.

She set down on the shore furthest from the village, though the island was small enough that the distance amounted to a very short walk. 'What now?' she asked. This island had no source of shelter except destroyed buildings, and even that was lackluster at best. She could sleep in the open, but it wouldn't be pleasant…

And more importantly, it seemed they had found exactly what they were looking for. The roaming dragon horde had struck this place, she would have bet her saddle on it. If this wasn't dragons, then there was something else even scarier lurking somewhere nearby, and she didn't even want to consider that.

"We're going to check that out," Ruffnut said, dropping down to stand on her own two feet. Her boots crunched in the snow and sand as she shuffled around, working the feeling back into her legs. Or so Von assumed, given how loudly she usually complained about that very thing at every other stop. Not this time, thankfully; whining about sore legs seemed foolish now.

"Definitely," Maour agreed solemnly, "but I don't think we're going to get any supplies here. The ice hit all of their storehouses and their great hall, if they had one. The only buildings left to burn were the huts."

'It sounds like it was targeted if that is the case,' Von noted.

"It was," Maour confirmed. "None of that was random. We'll ask someone about it, but I could tell as much just by how neat it was. Not a single ice blast hit anything outside of the village, and none were wasted on less important targets."

"Who was doing the blasting?" Ruffnut asked. "And can we get walking already? I'm going to freeze if I stand still too long."

"Von, if you stick to the ruins and stay out of sight…" Maour wiped his face of snow and grimaced. "They'll block the wind, at least."

O-O-O

Ash and snow mixed underfoot, slinging out as grey slush as Maour walked. Ruffnut was somewhere else in the destroyed village, seeking information, a place to get out of the wind, or just anything she found interesting. Von was shadowing her, or him, he hadn't asked. He tried to pull on the link to Toothless – he'd done so countless times, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch – and got nothing, same as every time before. There was nothing there, and Toothless was still far away, captive somewhere.

He had to be a captive, alive and safe. Maour refused to consider the alternatives, though they were possible, likely even. He wouldn't even entertain the possibility until he was standing in the middle of the Skrill lair, or wherever they made their homes. Even then, he'd be skeptical.

For now, though, he was stuck investigating this destruction. It bore no signs of lightning or anything Skrill-related, and the ice, though immensely worrying and something he would have been all over in different circumstances, was also irrelevant.

A piece of cloth, stained and torn, whipped back and forth from a spike of ice rising from the ground, moving like a flag. A macabre one, given he didn't think it was originally dark brown in color. The ice beneath, a massive hunk that was mostly opaque, sheltered a small fire and two women, one his age and one much older. They were huddled around it, holding their hands out and sharing a ragged blanket.

He approached the fire and sat opposite them, briefly looking around to confirm they were alone. The ice made a formerly flat and somewhat open village layout into a dangerous, confusing maze, and he couldn't see very far in any direction.

"Anyone see the dragon that did this?" he asked bluntly.

One of the women looked up; both had seen him approaching, but neither acknowledged him until now. She grunted rudely and glared at him. "Too busy hiding somewhere?" she accused.

He thought about saying that he had just arrived, then realized that the docks were trashed – ice and fire both, in different places – and that he hadn't seen any ships at all. "Heavy sleeper," he lied instead. "Woke up to smoke and wreckage."

"I'd say yer lucky," the woman spat, "but that's just 'cause you didn't live here, foreigner. We ain't comin' back from this. Not like last time."

"Last time there was no ice," the younger woman said quietly, poking a stick into the fire and letting it burn. "Just fire. Never thought it could be worse…"

"We weren't going to go for anything less," the old woman said. "Guess the demons knew it after we rebuilt the first time. I hope Drago gives 'em Hel when he gets 'ere."

"He follows them around," Maour said, recalling what they had learned at the last island. "Will he stop here, or just keep going?"

"Don' worry your scrawny behind," the older woman said condescendingly, "'E always stops on the islands that get attacked. Gonna be a lean few days 'till he gets 'ere, though. Got no food, no clean water…"

The younger woman shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

"The food storehouses were frozen over?" Maour asked sympathetically.

"Blown apart and then frozen," was the bitter reply. "No fancy meals for you. No meals at all. Hopefully Drago is as generous as the rumors say. Anyone who survived is going to have to beg for mercy and hitch a ride, if they're still lucid enough to do it."

"I might be able to go fishing for something," Maour offered, feeling oddly guilty. None of this was his doing, not even by association; he had no connection to the dragons doing this, even if he was more capable of understanding them than the average Viking.

"That would be nice…" the younger woman said quietly. "But fish don't bite around here. Nobody knows why."

'I could melt my way into a storehouse and find something edible for them,' Von offered from somewhere nearby. Maour resisted the urge to look around for where she was; she would be hidden well, so he wouldn't see her even if he tried.

"If you can do it without being seen, but wait for me," Maour muttered. "Then the storehouses," he said aloud, addressing the two women. "Maybe there's a way to break in."

"Go find someone with arms thicker than a toothpick," the older woman scoffed. "Freeloader."

"Maybe I will," Maour shot back. "But back to what I asked in the first place, did either of you see the dragon that did all of this?" He needed that information, and if Von could melt her way to enough food that these people wouldn't starve waiting for Drago, they would have questions he'd rather leave than try to answer.

"No, I was too busy staring at your ugly face and fake scale-armor," the old woman said, straightening up to more effectively glare at him.

"Big, bigger than any ship, white," the younger woman said at the same time. "Like a living mountain."

"Thank you." Maour left them to their fire and… whatever else they would be doing. Probably just sitting there feeling miserable.

He worked his way between a spike of ice and the burnt remnants of what looked like a market stall. The storehouses would be in the ice-struck part of the village, so he headed toward the middle of the icy maze. The occasional black blur leaping from place to place ahead of him indicated that Von was around, but she was silent. He didn't feel much like talking either, so he didn't mind.

A massive white dragon comparable to a small mountain that breathed ice… Or maybe freezing water that solidified after being spat out, given the way some things were frozen in the spikes he was walking past, not just smashed under them. It was a horrifying weapon at this scale, but he could imagine a smaller version being useful as a nonlethal weapon. No Viking could fight very well if his boots were frozen to the ground, or his hands frozen together…

But that wasn't what was happening here, not even close. This dragon was obliterating buildings and rendering islands uninhabitable, presumably travelling with the rest of the destructive horde. If he had ever doubted the tales he and Ruffnut had been told, this put those doubts to rest. There was no question that it was dragons doing the damage.

As for why they were attacking… Not food, not like back on Berk. Freezing the storehouses was the opposite of fighting for food. Unless they had melted their way in like he and Von were about to…

The wind howled, suddenly picking up, and Von revealed herself, walking out in front of him. 'Is this a storehouse?' she asked, nodding to the rugged chunk of ice to his right.

He turned to look at it, struggling to make out anything other than fractured wood and opaque ice. "Maybe, but I can't tell," he admitted. "Why do you think it might be?"

'It's bigger than most, and the other side has a few empty barrels that missed being frozen,' Von explained. 'We are going to melt enough for all of them, right? Not just so we can resupply?'

"Of course," Maour agreed. "And yeah, this one's worth checking." He began walking around it, looking for a wall or something else recognizable. Now that he was thinking about it, the violence with which the ice – or freezing water, as was his running theory – had struck would crush most edible things, but if they could find a mostly-intact barrel of fish, or yak jerky, that would be perfect.

'I did wonder,' Von murmured as she followed him. 'Every moment we spend here is one more we are not spending looking for him…'

"I'm not even sure where we should go next," Maour admitted. "It might be better to wait for Drago and find out where his fleet is headed. Or maybe we should just keep going North until we run into the iceberg field." They didn't know that Toothless was being held captive in the nest there, but it was the place to look. On the other hand, he didn't think Skrill usually hung around with dragons of other species, and Drago would be much more likely to have kept track of such dangerous dragons in particular… Not that he wanted to deal with the man, or his subordinates.

"Here," he suggested, slapping her tail against a face of the ice that was mostly flat and contained what looked a lot like a shattered, mangled doorway. The frame had buckled, smashed in from one corner, but he could crawl through if the interior was melted. The touch of this ice on his hand stung more than he expected, and he quickly stuck it under his other armpit to warm it up.

Von leaned forward and let out a searing blue-white flame, forcing Maour to look away. Water pooled around his boots and her paws. He looked around, checking that they were still alone, but all he saw was more ice.

O-O-O

A fat drop of water hit Ruffnut in the face. She ignored it.

When another drop of water landed perfectly on her upper lip and fell into her nose, she sneezed and ignored it too.

The third one hit her on the eyelid. She struck out blindly, aiming for Tuffnut's stupid hand.

She hit waterlogged wood and almost broke her wrist. That got her up, cursing under her breath and narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the same wooden beam. She crawled out from her makeshift shelter inside a collapsed blacksmith's forge, glaring balefully at everything and everyone in her path, especially the tarp covering a big lump in the far corner.

"Don't say a word," she warned as Von's head poked out from under the tarp. Maour was under there somewhere with her, but Ruffnut had elected to take advantage of their circumstances and find her own place to sleep. She had bragged about it being warm and comfortable and roomy, whereas Maour was stuck under Von's wing.

'A word,' Von murmured halfheartedly. 'Is it dawn?'

"No clue," Ruffnut retorted, looking up. The many holes in the roof – including the newer one Von had created when she landed on what she mistakenly thought to be a stable perch – showed nothing but dull grey sky. "Is there any of that seal jerky left?"

'We still do not know whether it is actually seal,' Von warned. 'It's over with the rusty spears.'

"Oh, yeah," she said, remembering that she had slung it in that direction. The night before was a miserable blur of wandering around, seeing beaten-down people giving up hope, and then being found and told that Maour and Von had already done the only interesting thing on the island, and dug into a building to get food for the survivors. She had felt more than a little useless.

That was old Ruffnut. Today's new Ruffnut wasn't going to let old Ruffnut's frustrations get her down. It was a bright – well, dark and cloudy, but in her mind it was bright and if Von took them above the clouds it would be – new day, and she was going to do something awesome. Either to help Maour and Von, or just because she could, either worked.

"Did any of the guys you two met last night seem like they could use a charismatic leader to rally them?" she asked.

'A what?' Von huffed.

"Nevermind," she would take that as a yes. "See you later! Don't leave without me."

'The building is surrounded by ice,' Von reminded her.

"Every day should begin with a climb," Ruffnut retorted, hefting three of the old spears. The water damage was going to ruin them in a few days, but for now they'd do as climbing aids. She jabbed one into a fat ice boulder, then another, hauling herself up like she was practicing Thorston getaway tactics. A couple dozen stabs and lifts more, along with a few near misses to get the heart pumping, she was up on top of one of the taller spires blocking in their refuge. Her hands were going numb, and she had lost all but one of the spears, but she didn't care. Getting back down could be a problem for later. For now, she stared out over the ruined village, at the choppy ocean beyond…

And the massive fleet sailing by them. More than a score of grey, iron-plated warships were passing by, and a few had broken away to drop anchor by the ruined docks. She could see a small crowd of survivors there, clamoring and presumably requesting to be taken anywhere else.

"Hey, Drago's here!" she yelled down for Maour's benefit. His fleet certainly looked like the sort to be able to take on a dragon horde that came with a big ice-spitting dragon, but she wouldn't be sure until they saw it in action. Hopefully they would; flying around asking questions on islands was getting boring, and they had only done it twice. Either Drago or the dragons in the mysterious nest, someone was going to have some answers for them, and it wouldn't be a random villager who did nothing with his life.

O-O-O

Toothless had intended to ask Grey about the Skrill first. Then their fellow prisoners, then the other inhabitants of the ice mountain, and then to go from whatever she told him.

Now, though, he had one far more pertinent question. He stared at the white mountain rising from the formerly much larger pool of water in the middle of the ice mountain, thrusting upward with spikes and mottled grey patches and no apparent order. It wasn't ice, far too opaque, but he had no idea what it actually was. The Queen looked nothing like this; her body had been recognizably dragon, albeit large. This looked like the egg of a mountain itself.

Grey wasn't even looking at it; she had just retrieved her meal and was cracking a few jokes Toothless didn't really get. Star and Hefnd had their backs to it, and Einn's eyes were closed, but Grey had to see the massive movement in her peripheral vision, like he had. The Skrill weren't reacting either, and the dragons out in the free part of the mountain were ignoring it even as they flew around it, though most gave it a respectful distance likely born of pure self-preservation.

He knew, logically, that their lack of reaction meant this was not some totally unknown thing happening for the first time. That didn't stop him from gaping at it for far too long, even after it stopped moving, a smaller mountain of white spikes amidst the verdant greenery and muted colors of the larger mountain that surrounded it.

'What is that?' he said.

'A three-legged honeysuckle bird,' Grey assured him. 'It just looks bigger than it actually is.'

He turned his disbelieving stare to her, unwilling to accept that. She snorted at him.

'It's just the biggest idiot of their happy nest,' Hefnd huffed irritably. 'Basically scenery that moves around and keeps things frozen. Not important.'

'Anything big enough to step on you and not notice is important,' Star said seriously. She cast Toothless a smoldering look he did his best to completely ignore. 'Though he might notice stepping on you.'

'I'm not that much bigger,' Toothless muttered. If this was the dragon that kept the ice mountain from melting… Well, he could believe it. He had assumed it was an entire group of them, a new kind he didn't know, not just one, but that assumption was based on the idea that one dragon couldn't make and maintain a mountain on their own. This one was a small mountain, so keeping up a slightly bigger one was entirely possible.

'It doesn't matter,' Hefnd said with a huff. 'That's that.'

'Grey?' Toothless asked, moving over to stand as close to the ice wall as possible, so as to get a better look. She followed him over, her movements oddly hesitant. 'What do you know?'

'Not much more than what they said,' Grey admitted freely. She pressed her nose to the ice and exhaled loudly, eyes locked on the massive white and grey form. It was shifting around, moving in the water. A trio of tiny dragons he didn't recognize were hopping from spike to spike as it moved. 'Big, does not talk to us often… I cannot say more.'

'Cannot?' he asked.

'No, I cannot tell you anything about him, because he told me not to,' Grey said quietly.

Toothless twitched, his muscles clenching involuntarily as the implication hit him. She wasn't just unwilling, but literally unable, which meant something was stopping her, and he knew what sort of compulsion made one unable to speak freely. This was a Queen, a different kind but still a Queen in the way that mattered, and everyone was under its control.

A Skrill – he didn't recognize which at this distance, though he doubted he could tell them all apart yet regardless of distance anyway – flew up to the Queen and cracked like thunder, lightning lancing up from its body.

The Queen turned, massive tusks plowing out of the water to arc up on either side of the flying ball of lightning, massive torrents of water following them up only to crash back down again. The Skrill landed on one of the tusks.

Toothless wanted to flee, melt a hole in the ice and run, but he knew it was pointless. He was well and truly trapped here, now more than ever. The tusks were turning toward him; the Skrill had brought him up.

'Looks like an early day for most of you,' the Skrill that had been watching over them announced, dropping down to land in their enclosure. Toothless turned just enough to look at him, while keeping the ponderous, slow-moving bulk of the Queen in the corner of his eye. 'Prepare for being dumped back in your holes, I do not want to smell your stench just because you were not prepared.'

Hefnd and Star made for the waste pit at the side of their enclosure, but Einn simply tensed and crouched, like he always did before they were picked up. The Skrill leaped forward and grabbed him, taking him back to his cell.

Toothless considered his options while the Skrill was busy, and by the time it had arrived he was crouching and doing his best to look like nothing interesting was happening. There was a tiny chance that if he was taken back with the others, the Queen might forget about him-

'Not you,' the Skrill huffed, grabbing Grey with his cruel talons. 'You're the reason for this. Get ready to face someone much more dangerous than either of us.' There was a resentful lilt to his voice, a cold mockery that did nothing at all to reassure Toothless.

The other Furies were removed from the area, one by one, as the massive white dragon turned and leaned forward. Toothless was left with nothing to do but watch as the two tusks, each large enough that they looked more like oddly shaped boulders than anything natural, one with a Skrill on top, approached rapidly.

The Skrill flew away as the tusks drew near, and Toothless backed up once he realized they weren't slowing down. The two points smashed through the thin ice wall, shattering it into countless shards, and came to a stop on either side of him, thumping down on hard stone.

Two large, black eyes appeared on the massive face, deep and dark. He immediately averted his gaze, as that was how he was formerly controlled by the Queen that he and Maour had killed years ago, but he knew that it was pointless if this Queen really wanted to enslave him. His only hope was that for some reason that wasn't about to happen.

'Another,' the massive dragon rumbled. The noise was a physical vibration that rattled Toothless through the tusks resting on the ground he was standing on. The mental component of the voice was soft-spoken in comparison, merely making his head ache. 'Like the others. Powerless.'

'In comparison to you?' he asked, desperately trying to appear less afraid than he was, more confident. He had no clue what attitude or response the Queen was looking for, so anything he said or did would be just as likely to be the wrong thing.

'To all, to your predecessors, to any above you,' the Queen said. 'You are a Usurper, and you are powerless under me. Trapped here, because I will it. Kept alive, because I will it.'

'Why bother?' he asked, doing his best to ignore the feeling that he was a gnat biting a dragon. If the Queen – though the mental voice was clearly male, so that would make this one a King – attacked, he could leap away and try to dodge, or he might be instantly smashed to a pulp, but that wasn't the same thing as being helpless, he had yet to lose his ability to act.

'I have power,' the King said, as if that explained everything. 'Power to make all do as I say. I say your kind should not be killed, they should be forced to suffer. I say it, so it is done.'

'Why us?' Toothless demanded. He bared his teeth at those dark eyes. 'I've done nothing to you.'

'Your kind has done everything to mine,' the King said firmly. 'To all of ours. Others may have forgotten, but I have not. Those who live here have been… informed… of what their predecessors failed to pass down. You have no allies here, no power, no hope. That is my will.'

There was a sudden crackle of lightning from right behind him, and he didn't dodge in time. A shock hit his behind, and while he convulsed the Skrill knocked him onto one of the massive tusks. He immediately closed his eyes, but talons pinned him down, forcing him to keep contact.

There was an earth-shaking growl, one that made his bones vibrate and his head ache abominably. 'You know,' the King ground out.

'Not my first time under a King with control issues,' he managed, suddenly hoping that this King would take that explanation and assume that was all it was, that he could keep Maour and his other forays into mental connections and the link secret.

'Where and when,' was the harsh response. 'Tell me!'

'West,' he said, lying through his teeth, 'and they're dead now. Someone better than me came in and killed them.' The last thing he wanted was for this new King to head down South and pick up where the last one left off, though a volcano really didn't seem like this one's preferred territory.

'Open your eyes,' the King ordered.

'I'd like to not repeat the experience,' he said.

'Now, or lose a limb.' The Skrill jabbed a talon into his hip, digging in near his back left leg. 'And then you will open them anyway.'

He hated to give in at all, but he wasn't willing to be permanently injured for nothing. Being controlled was, by comparison, relatively easy to fix. He didn't need another prosthetic, no matter how good Maour was at making them.

Even with all of the good reasons to comply, he still had trouble fighting through his disgust to force himself to open his eyes. When he did, he saw the black pits that passed for eyes… And he felt the link in his mind, a one-way connection that sickened him to his core, nothing at all like what he'd had with Maour, and all too similar to what the Queen had done to him.

'No speaking of me to others of your kind,' the King ordered.

He wouldn't be able to, now. Every order the King gave would be followed. It wasn't as invasive as being controlled directly, but it wasn't something that would go away when the King was distracted, either. A flood of orders were about to follow, stopping him from doing a dozen different things-

'You are powerless,' the King said again. Toothless fell to the ground as the tusk he had been pinned against lifted away. The King pulled back. 'Remember that.'

The Skrill grabbed Toothless and lifted him up, pulling him into the air, but Toothless couldn't care less. He held his breath until he was deposited into his cell, and even then he had a hard time believing what had just happened.

Not the order to not talk, or being controlled; those were obvious. What surprised him was the lack of more orders. He hadn't been told not to kill himself, or not to work against the King, or even not to try and kill the King or the Skrill. Most importantly, he hadn't been told not to knock himself out and be rid of the control, which was the first thing he intended to do…

When he could get away with it. There might be some trick, and just in case, he was going to be a little more subtle than ramming his head into the ice until he lost consciousness. But removing the control was going to be the first thing he did.

The second would be finding a way to never be controlled again, which would be much trickier. He was going to have to think about that.

Author's Note:  Now we're getting into the thick of it all; the next few chapters are going to be fun. I've done some final planning, and I think this story will be roughly 34 chapters, including the epilogue, so we're about one third of the way through now.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

'Today it's Condescending,' Star said.

Toothless stalled for time by ducking his head under the frigid water of their little pond, wondering what she meant. Only a day prior, he would have said she was just talking nonsense to annoy him, but now he knew they were all potentially under observation from inside their own heads. It could be some sort of code phrase the King wouldn't know, but other Night Furies would.

Not that he knew. He turned around and gave her a confused look. 'Is that a new kind of weather?' he asked innocently. 'I've never heard snow called that, but if you say so…' It wasn't like they would be getting any snow where they were, but maybe they would see some falling in from the opening at the very top of the mountain. Falling onto the already white mass in the center of everything, lurking ominously…

'No, her,' Star snorted, waving her tail in the direction of their Skrill overseer. She waved far more than necessary to get his attention, and he stubbornly refused to look at her tail or anything it was connected to.

'She is called Condescending?' he asked. He had gotten the names of their guards from Grey, but he'd yet to match said names to appearances. He couldn't pick her out from the rest of the Skrill if his life depended on it, and if asked, he would have guessed her name was Cold, based on her aloof presence.

'Yes, and she fits the name, so be ready for a different sort of entertainment when we eat today,' Star grumbled, unaware of his internal monologue about identifying Skrill. 'Maybe you will see the difference between fun and rude once you have seen her idea of a good time.'

'Maybe there won't be that much of a difference,' Toothless shot back. He wasn't about to concede that her cruel mockery of Grey was acceptable; he had made his opinion clear, and stood by it.

'Oh, there is,' Hefnd huffed from where he sat with his father. He sounded especially annoyed, which boded well for later. If he was already aggravated, Toothless wouldn't have to push him very hard to get what he wanted without raising suspicion.

'Whatever you say,' Toothless snorted. 'Got any details about the others?'

'We call her Condescending because she is,' Star said. 'The ones that brought you in were Sadistic and Angry, and the one who explained the rules was Tolerable. Cold hasn't been around much since you got here. There was another, but she was killed just before Einn got his vacation.' She shrugged her wings. 'Those names are all you really need to know. Grey wasn't clever about naming them, so their names match how they act. Not a surprise, really.'

He wasn't that surprised that Star thought so, but he was pretty sure no real person was as one-note as that. Even if they didn't act like it around their prisoners, all of the Skrill had to be more than a single word's worth of personality. If nothing else, he remembered Sadistic saying he hadn't always cared about hurting others.

'Not a surprise, because she is not clever about anything except her stupid jokes,' Star added after a moment, as if unsure whether he had fully appreciated the insult. He hadn't, of course.

She seemed to be expecting a response, but instead he grumbled noncommittally and turned away from her, hoping she would get the message and stop talking to him. Asking her to shut up or go away wouldn't work, no matter how much he wished it would.

Of course, staring out at the rest of the ice nest meant he was staring through something troubling in an entirely different way. The ice wall that divided his prison from the rest of the nest was back and thicker than ever, only partially translucent at the moment. Given the King had shattered it only a day before, he was surprised to see it repaired so soon… Surprised and just a little more desperate than before. The dark shadow it cast over him was both literal and metaphorical. So powerful, even without mind control, and all that power was at least tangentially devoted to keeping him captive.

'Nuzzle for your thoughts,' Star offered from behind him, her voice low and sultry.

'That's a threat, not an offer,' he grumbled rudely. Hefnd's annoyed huff told him he was on the right track, though he hadn't meant telling Star off to be part of his 'anger Hefnd into wanting to do something violent' strategy.

'I could make it a threat, if that is what you like,' Star hummed. 'Is it about the big, bad alpha? Feeling like a lesser male today?'

'No,' he said shortly. Then a thought came to mind, an idea for how to rid himself of the one-sided link the King put in his mind, and he stomped his paws a little, acting frustrated. 'A little. I cannot even do what I usually do to make myself feel better.'

'Sounds intriguing,' Star purred. 'What would that be?'

'There was this game I played with the rock-heads back home,' he explained, speaking quickly so that she wouldn't have time to sneak in any innuendo. 'Hefnd, you might like this. We would take turns knocking each others' heads into the ground, seeing who could knock the other out first.'

'Why would I like that?' Hefnd asked coldly, glaring at him from his spot next to his Sire.

'Seems like you'd be good at it, is all,' Toothless said casually, walking away from the pond. 'And it's not fighting, but I understand if you're scared to complete with one larger and stronger than you…'

Hefnd snorted indignantly and let out a low growl, aware that Star was watching them both with amusement. Backing down would be a display of weakness, exactly as Toothless had intended. His original plan had been to provoke Hefnd into a real fight, but that was foolish for a number of reasons that had occurred to him over the long, cold night. The Skrill would almost certainly come down to break it up before any real damage could be done, and Hefnd would be more likely to use his claws and teeth instead of what Toothless really wanted. A made-up game where knocking Toothless out was the only way for Hefnd to win was much better.

'Okay, I will try your stupid game,' Hefnd declared, standing and walking out to meet Toothless roughly where the Skrill always dropped their fish, the center of their enclosure. There was hard-packed dirt and stone beneath their paws, and nothing else. No little rocks, thankfully; this was going to hurt without adding complications.

Hefnd stalked up to face Toothless, teeth bared and eyes narrow. 'Rules?' he asked. 'So you cannot claim I won by cheating.'

'We go back and forth,' Toothless explained. He slid his paw across the ground between them, tracing a line on the stone. It didn't stay, not even where his paw passed over dirt, but he was just trying to get an idea across. 'No stepping over the line. One paw or two, your choice. You can hit or shove, but no pushing or hitting eyes or anywhere behind the ears.'

He was grateful, explaining his improvised rules, that the Myrkurs had made such an art form of knocking each other out whenever they wanted to mess with their links. He'd never done it to himself, but watching their antics had given him an idea of what was best, and listening to Eldurhjarta rant about the safety - or lack thereof - of such things had further refined his knowledge.

Hitting on the neck was very bad, and the same could be said for the eyes, for obvious reasons. The forehead was the hardest part of the head, at least for Night Furies, and the easiest way to knock someone unconscious was to drive the side of their head into a solid surface. Doing so tended to work, and without any side effects, though Eldurhjarta always said that repeated impacts could rattle even a Myrkur's brain around and do real damage. Thankfully, compared to humans, Night Furies were far more resilient; the Myrkurs had yet to suffer any noticeable injuries, and they'd been messing around with their links for years now.

'Smashing your smug little face into the ground sounds fun,' Heffend said, far too eager for what would be a limited amount of violence against a fellow prisoner. Toothless wasn't looking forward to hurting Hefnd… much. Maybe a little. The other male was frustrating.

'Yes, but you get only one single hit during your turn, and going too far and killing me will not end well for you, of course.' He wasn't too worried about that happening, if only because Hefnd looked scrawny and thus probably didn't weigh too much, but it was a distant possibility.

'Can't beat you again later if you can never get back up from my first win,' Hefnd agreed, casting a nervous glance back at Condescending, who seemed half asleep on her perch, her head nodding. 'Have no fear of that. This is a friendly competition.' He snorted rudely, little speckles of snot hitting the ground between them. Toothless wondered if he was sick, or just intentionally trying to be disgusting.

'A friendly competition where we try to knock each other senseless,' Toothless agreed. 'Any other questions?'

'Who goes first?' Star asked from the sidelines of their little standoff.

'Hefnd can,' Toothless offered. If he wanted it to be fair he would have suggested some way to randomly decide who got that advantage, but he just wanted Hefnd to win, so letting the other male have the first strike was fine.

Hefnd stomped his paws, one after the other, and settled into a low stance. He raised his right paw, then lowered it and raised his left, all without breaking eye contact. Toothless supposed he was meant to be intimidated, but instead he was just impatient.

'You won't be so confident when I'm done with you,' Hefnd growled, settling on his right paw and reaching his left out to hang over Toothless' head. Then he slapped down.

Paw met forehead, chin met ground with a harsh smack. Toothless sprawled out, his ears ringing and his jaw hurting but otherwise unaffected. It hadn't even hurt that much; Hefnd really wasn't very strong.

'Make it obvious this isn't a fight before Condescending comes down here,' Star hissed.

Toothless hauled himself up, shook his wings out, and nodded agreeably in Hefnd's general direction. 'Trying to break my jaw? Let me show you something a little more impressive. Ready?'

'Ready,' Hefnd growled, closing his eyes and scrunching his face up. He looked even angrier with his eyes closed.

Toothless reared back, pulled both paws up, and came down on Hefnd, angling to strike from the left. He "pulled his punches", as Maour would have called it, softening the hit as much as he thought was reasonable, but Hefnd still collapsed like a crumbling rock, every joint folding at the same time. For a moment, Toothless worried that he had accidentally won. He hadn't planned for that.

Then Hefnd snarled and stood, and his worries were alleviated. 'That was weak,' Hefnd asserted. 'My turn.'

Toothless braced for impact. He watched as Hefnd shuffled on his paws, lifted one, dropped it again, then swung a wing out, turning and twisting so that the hard leading edge struck the side of his head–

O-O-O

Toothless blinked blearily, the world spinning under him, and felt a massive, throbbing pain in the side of his head, right above where his jaw met the rest of his head. He heard something crackling nearby, like frosted grass being crushed underpaw, but with an ominous resonance.

He also felt the absence of any foreign presence in his head, benign or malevolent. It was amazing how good that lack of a presence could feel, where he had been agonizing over it only a few days ago. Apparently, he only needed a reminder as to how horrible having someone he didn't want looking over his shoulder privy to everything he experienced.

'Up, foolish one,' a cold female said to somebody. He groaned as something in his tail jolted unpleasantly, wondering what Hefnd had done after knocking him out. A hit to the head shouldn't have hurt his tail-

The jolt turned into a spasm, and he yelped as the shocks spread, now obviously coming from outside him. He staggered forward a few steps, whipping his tail out of harm's way, and tried to turn to face his tormentor.

Instead, he face-planted in the hard dirt. If it weren't for having gotten what he really wanted, he would have been really frustrated by that. As it was, he held in a satisfied purr and settled for planting his paws more firmly and turning carefully, undeterred by the dizziness assaulting his senses.

The Skrill, who looked no different from the others he had seen, to the point where he would never have known she was female if it weren't for her voice and being told outright, tapped a pair of talons on stone, clicking them together impatiently. 'What was this?' she asked coldly. 'We do not allow fighting.'

'Wasn't a fight,' he rumbled. 'Contest. 'The rock heads had been impressed by my fortitude. Hefnd is stronger than I thought.' That was the story, and he was sticking to it. He didn't have it in him to pout, but pretending it didn't bother him – which it didn't – worked too.

'Stupid games get stupid rewards,' she hummed threateningly. 'No hurting yourselves or each other, no matter how much it seems like a good idea at the time. I had thought that would be obvious, but I suppose your little heads can only hold so much.'

'I will try to remember,' he huffed, gingerly pawing at his injury for emphasis. Now he knew why Condescending had her name; the first thing she ever said to him perfectly fit the title. He wondered if the Skrill intentionally played into the names they had been given, as that seemed a little too perfect. He would have, if he was in their place, just for something to do.

'Now run along and do something less self-destructive,' she instructed, a duo of seeking tendrils of lightning snapping out from her talons and toward him, though they stopped and ceased to exist long before reaching him, leaving only a loud snapping sound and the faint smell of a lightning strike. 'It is almost time for your feeding.'

He watched as she took off, disgruntlement breaking through his hidden satisfaction. Hopefully she wouldn't have much cause to interact with him in the future; her way of speaking down to him was already getting on his nerves. It reminded him of how the Queen had treated her captives, as if they were lesser…

At least he had taken a step toward ensuring he wouldn't be under another's control like that again. He looked out at the ice nest, and the white mountain lurking in the center. Two big tusks lay motionless on the ground near the pool, and there was a small swarm of little dragons playing around them. The King's body moved slowly, rhythmically, and his breathing could be heard, a deep rumble underlying the other noises of the nest.

He was asleep, and apparently losing one of his many, many subjects wasn't enough to wake him. When he did wake, he probably wouldn't notice.

'I won,' Hefnd called out from the edge of the pond, having triumphantly returned to his usual spot. Star was entangled with him, her tail and paws all over him, which Toothless assumed was her way of rewarding the victor.

That made it seem like she considered their little contest a fight over her. He certainly hadn't meant it that way, and that she did made him even happier he had lost. The last thing he needed was Star throwing herself at him for any reason.

O-O-O

Star threw herself bodily in Toothless' direction, and he had to jump back to avoid being tackled. She barked wordlessly at him, her tail swaying happily-

'Good!' Condescending declared. 'Very good.'

Star's tail fell like a limp fish, and she quickly retreated, tossing her head irritably. Toothless had never seen her so angry or humiliated, and he totally understood why she felt that way. Condescending, as it turned out, was not a name that solely referred to the Skrill's way of talking to them. It also referred to what he understood to be a regular event when she was watching them.

Condescending shifted her attention. 'Surly, roll over.' Hefnd reluctantly complied, all but throwing his body into the motion to be done with it.

'Good boy. Beg.' Hefnd let out a genuine whine of frustration as he sat up on his hind legs, eyes on the ground, his body drooping like–

A bolt of lightning struck him, and he flopped on his back before recovering with a snarl. 'Let's try that again,' Condescending sighed. 'Surly, beg.'

Toothless grimaced as Hefnd resumed the begging posture, his back straight, eyes on Condescending, and a much more convincing plaintive whine coming out.

'Good boy.' Condescending rolled her eyes 'Eventually.' She looked at Grey. 'Desolate, play dead.'

Toothless averted his eyes, not wanting to stare at her bare underside or watch her make a fool of herself in front of everyone for the Skrill's amusement. Again. Still, out of the corner of his eye, he could see her put a lot of feigned enthusiasm into the act of rolling over onto her back and holding herself with her paws limp in the air.

'Good girl!' The Skrill said with genuine enthusiasm.

Condescending shifted her gaze to Toothless. 'Hrrr, don't want to overload the new one. Let's have you… beg.'

Toothless glared at the Skrill. 'And if I don–'

'I want to eat!' Star snapped rudely. She glared at him. 'She can do worse, like deny us food by shocking anyone who touches it.' Toothless heard his stomach gurgle at the very thought of not being allowed any of the tantalizing fish sitting in front of him.

A shock ran through Toothless, and he found himself floundering on his back for a moment before the spasming subsided and he could stand again.

'I taught a new trick in record time!' Condescending crowed. 'I'm so good at this!' Her look turned sinister. 'I'm in a good mood, so I'll let you all eat if the new one begs and makes it very, very convincing.'

Toothless felt all eyes intently on him. He felt like snarling and shooting a fireball at Condescending, but he knew that the other Skrill were not far away, so he forced himself to assume the begging position that Hefnd had demonstrated, with his front paws dropping and his head tilted to the side. It took a lot of effort, but he managed to whine petulantly instead of roar defiantly.

'Good boy!' she purred, her body crackling with tiny bolts of lightning for no apparent reason. 'Eat up, everyone!' She flapped away, leaving them to their meal… and their humiliation.

'That is the only reason she is better than Sadistic, but it still makes her the third worst,' Hefnd growled. He bit one of the larger fish in half and swallowed it before gathering up his share and his father's and walking away.

'Cold is the absolute worst,' Grey added as Star left. 'He likes to have us put back early, so he can sleep instead of watching us. We do not get food unless someone else remembers to check on him.'

'I'm not looking forward to that,' Toothless admitted between careful bites. Careful because he was already learning to savor his food, and didn't want to finish it too quickly. He remained by the original fish pile, keeping Grey company. One of the few upsides of Condescending's regular 'practice' for them was Grey didn't seem to want to crack any jokes, so he didn't have to watch another cringe-inducing performance.

'Well, you could just knock yourself out and skip it,' Grey quipped. 'If you wanted to sleep the day away, you needed to have Hefnd hit you harder.' She swallowed the last bit of her fish and licked her paws, then looked over at him with wide eyes. 'Why did you do that, anyway? You could not possibly have lost to him if you were really trying, you have so much more weight.'

'Are you calling me fat?' he joked.

'Maybe…' She glanced over her shoulder at her rock pile, but made no move to retreat to it.

'Let's just say I wanted a little alone time in my own head,' he murmured, flicking his tail in the direction of the sleeping King.

'That was smart,' Grey hummed. 'He doesn't bother putting it back if you lose it. We are talking about… Hefnd's pet rock, right?'

Toothless resisted checking the Skrill's perch; if she was watching them, that would just make them look suspicious. 'Yes, his pet rock,' he readily agreed, latching onto Grey's proposed code for the link that the King had put in his head. 'I was trying to get it off my mind. I hope he doesn't show it to me again.'

'He doesn't bother. Once you've seen it, that's enough for him. He never does anything with it.' Grey shrugged her wings, a movement that emphasized the crooked bend in them, at least to his eye. 'He never uses it. I forgot about it a while ago, and he has not noticed.'

'Really?' That certainly boded well for his chances of escaping notice. 'I guess part two of my plan for not thinking about his rock isn't needed, then.'

'What was part two going to be?' Grey asked conversationally. She turned to walk back to her hideaway, but didn't actually start moving until he got up to walk with her.

'A stupid idea that probably would not have worked,' he admitted. He didn't understand how the link in all of its complexities actually worked; his plan had mostly just been the natural outgrowth of him only knowing how to do one thing of his own volition.

'But what stupid idea?' she pressed.

'I…' He cast around at the edge of her rock pile until he had found a small rock, then dug his claws in the dirt to draw a circle around it. 'Look, it's like this. The circle is my mind. The rock is Hefnd's rock.'

'It fills your head,' Grey observed, sounding for all the world like she actually believed their deception. He had to hope she was playing along, not actually confused. With her, there was no way to know.

'So I got his rock out of my head,' Toothless narrated, pushing the pebble out and then flicking it away for good emphasis. It clacked against the ice wall. 'But I have this other rock, see,' he continued, finding another rock of similar size in the debris and bringing it back. Grey watched intently. 'I was hoping to put that rock in instead.'

'So there is no more room if Hefnd wants to make you think about his,' Grey hummed. 'You have a rock of your own?'

'Not on my own, but I can make one with someone else. Two, really, one for each of us,' he explained. They were getting into potentially dangerous territory, as he suspected that this was something nobody else in this nest knew, but he felt he could trust Grey to keep it secret, if only because it was already so hard to get her talking directly about anything serious. This was the longest she had gone on a single topic, and he suspected it was only because they had the deception to keep up that he had kept her on the subject.

'And… wait.' She ran over to the ice wall and retrieved the fallen pebble, bringing it back clutched between her claws. 'What if Hefnd does this?'

She stuck her paw down, dropped Hefnd's pebble right next to the circle with his in it, and then used Hefnd's pebble to push the other out.

'That was why it was a stupid idea,' he conceded. 'I don't know if Hefnd can do that. All I know is that there's only room for one.' In fact, he didn't know that, either, though he was pretty sure it was true. The Myrkurs and twins had tried so hard to create multiple links in one person, only to be met with failure, and he had no reason to think it would be different with the King's kind of link.

'That's not the only reason it was stupid,' Grey commented. 'Hefnd could just push your rock out as easily as you pushed out his.'

'Yes…' He suppressed a groan. It seemed his plan had been even stupider than he had thought. 'Good thing none of that matters now anyway.'

'I am interested in this rock you would be making,' Grey objected, pawing at the rock he had put into the circle to signify him making a link with someone else. 'What does it do?'

'It's a rock, it sits there and takes up space,' he offered. If she was actually asking about a rock, she would take that and not–

'I mean what does it really do,' she said quietly, her ears falling a little.

'It's similar to Hefnd's rock, but not as big. You can see the rock, taste, smell, touch, even hear it, but you cannot control it. I would give my rock to another, and they would give me theirs.'

'You were going to do it with me?' Grey asked, perking up. 'Not Star or Hefnd or Einn?'

'You're the only one I'm on good terms with,' Toothless assured her, trying to keep his voice down. 'Einn doesn't talk and got me into this mess, Hefnd is frustrating, and Star acts like I've never met a female before in my life.'

Grey snorted at that. 'You could see my rock? Through my eyes?'

Toothless nodded. 'And you me, but you would know if I was using your rock,' he clarified. The last thing he needed was to come across as some creep trying to push into her privacy. She hid from all eyes for most of every day; he knew better than to let her think he was trying to get a look inside her sanctuary. That seemed like the sort of thing that would scare her off for good, and then he would feel horrible.

'Weird,' she said after a moment. 'Can we do that anyway? It sounds interesting.'

Somehow, he hadn't seen that request coming, and it took him totally by surprise. He stalled by scratching another circle into the dirt and sticking a rock in it, thinking the request over. On the one paw, there was no need now, and the link was something he'd only ever shared with Maour. On the other, Grey wanted to experience it, and it would open up some options for coordination that they might need for whatever plan they eventually came up with to escape. If they had an open line of communication they could maybe pull off complicated deceptions, things that relied on their captors not understanding what they could do…

And if it helped him get back to his family, who was he to spurn it? Maour was the one who was always pushing for the link to be seen as something sacred between friends, not to be misused or abused, and even he would say this was a good idea, strategically speaking. There was even an ironic parallel if he made a link with Grey here; he had already mentally compared their situation to how he and Maour had met.

'If you really want to,' he finally said.

Grey nodded vigorously, her attempt at acting serious only slightly hampered by her wide eyes and wildly swaying tail.

'And if you decide you don't like it, I'll just have to challenge Hefnd to a rematch,' he added, abruptly feeling that he was trying to explain something serious to Fora or Vern, with all the understanding of consequences that it implied. Grey almost certainly didn't get how important and solemn this sort of thing was…

But she was an adult, and she would learn, and in the meantime it might somehow help them get out of this place. 'That said, we can try it,' he concluded.

'Right now?' Grey pressed. 'How does it work? Can I do it, or do you have to, or is it something that needs both of us, or do we have to trick the King into doing it for us–'

'None of that,' Toothless snorted. It would be as simple as touching her while looking into her eyes, then they would both collapse with a headache for a moment… which might be a problem if they wanted to keep this secret. Already, he could feel eyes on his back and knew that someone was watching. Grey loitering outside of her hiding place was not normal, and anything abnormal drew attention.

'You go into there,' he instructed with a gesture toward her usual hideout, coming up with a plan on the fly. 'Then hold out your paw, and I'll show you my rock.' They could play off his collapse as lingering dizziness from his recent head trauma. She would have to be surprised at collapsing from this; warning her wasn't worth the risk of being overheard and making the Skrill think about it.

'Got it!' she chirped, turning to wiggle her way under the hanging rocks that made up the very low-hanging entrance to her place of refuge. He watched as she crawled in, feeling claustrophobic just looking. He still didn't think he could get in without upsetting the balance of the pile and getting himself crushed, but she was thin and flat enough to barely make it.

There was a shuffling noise, and he bent over to look inside. Her eyes, light purple around the large, blocky pupils, stared back at him. A paw was proffered, just within reach if he leaned forward.

'I don't think I can follow you there,' he said loudly, making a show of crouching and leaning forward, sticking a paw in to touch hers. Their eyes met.

He hadn't made a link in a long time, but it wasn't a process he could forget. Part of it was willpower, forcing something into being, but another part was reaching out with his mind, drawing a trail of nothing from his head to hers, directly into her eyes and what lay beyond-

It was there, and the headache was there with it. He saw himself for an instant, then managed to pull away from the new bundle of senses in the back of his head before collapsing.

It had been so long that he didn't entirely remember the last time he had felt this way. It seemed to go away quicker than before, but there was no way for him to be sure. Once the sharp pains faded to something bearable, he stumbled to his paws and growled loudly. 'Okay,' he announced to nobody in particular, 'maybe it was a stupid game.'

'Can't take my strength?' Hefnd called out smugly, giving away that he, at least, had been watching them.

'Not everyone has a skull as thick as yours,' Toothless retorted.

He felt, in the back of his head, a familiar sensation. Someone trying to see through his eyes. It was interesting, and a little disconcerting, that he couldn't feel any real difference between Grey's link and the one he'd had with Maour; the sensation was exactly the same. Maybe because he had created both, or maybe because neither of them was a King or Queen, whose invasions definitely had a different feeling entirely.

It was soothing, having that familiar presence back, but he didn't let himself fall into that trap. Grey wasn't Maour, and he wasn't satisfied with this. They were going to break out of this terrible place, freeing everyone trapped here, whether or not he liked them personally and then he was going to find Maour and Von and they were going to go home.

'You must have a thick skull, to have suggested that game in the first place,' Hefnd belatedly retorted.

Toothless shook his head and walked off to find somewhere pleasant to sit. He knew from experience that Grey was going to be spending some time experimenting with her new senses - his senses - and he might as well be comfortable while that happened. There was no grass, but he found a nice patch of smooth stone that wasn't littered with irritating little pebbles, and had a good view of the newly reinforced ice wall.

Grey was using all of his senses to their utmost, including feeling and taste. He let her do that for a little bit, then began murmuring to himself. 'You can probably drop taste and feeling,' he said. 'Neither of those are useful.' After he spoke, he opened himself to her hearing, just enough to catch any reply she might give.

She didn't release her grip on his senses in any way, or reply. As far as he could tell, she was slumped limply in her little hideaway, completely caught up in the sensation.

'Okay, do what you want,' he conceded. 'But we're going to have to discuss boundaries soon enough.' For now, he was content to let the novelty wear off on its own. He had a lot of thinking to do about how this link might be used to circumnavigate the obstacles they faced. The King was, if Grey was to be believed, not likely to notice anything amiss, but that left the Skrill, the ice nest itself, and their total lack of options even if they made it out.

None of those seemed like things the link could help with, but he had spent too much time around his friends and family to think that meant there really was nothing it could do. Though he wished he had Heather and Einfari and Maour here to talk him through it…

Grey remained silent, caught up in whatever it was about his senses that had her so enraptured. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake in making a link with her.

O-O-O

It was dusk, or close enough to it that Condescending was beginning the process of snatching them and putting them in their icy pits for the night. This was a problem.

Toothless ignored the sudden shock of ice on his paws as he was dropped. 'Grey,' he hissed, 'you have to come out into the open to be picked up, and you can't do that while you're doing this.' She had yet to back off from his senses, and he knew from experience that moving while feeling someone else's body was almost impossible without a lot of practice.

He got no response, as he had come to expect, but that wasn't acceptable. He knew she could hear him. She was still experiencing all of his senses to the fullest.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are,' Condescending roared threateningly.

Toothless braced himself and pressed his wings against the ice. He usually avoided doing exactly that, as his wing membrane was extremely sensitive and it hurt like crazy, but this was an emergency. He held them there, gasping and panting as the cold invaded him-

'Okay!' Grey barked from her hiding place, abruptly dropping all connection to him. A few moments later, Condescending soared overhead with a distinct shape in her talons, and Grey thumped down in her own cell.

Toothless was glad he had gotten through to her – distant worries about the link somehow breaking something in her were already disappearing – but he wasn't content to let it rest there. 'Now we should talk about rules,' he said quietly. She was already going back to using his senses over her own, though he noticed that she was leaving touch alone for the moment, probably because he still had his wings pressed to the ice–

He belatedly yanked his wings away and did his best to press them against his back. He would be feeling the cold all night, probably.

'Okay,' Grey repeated morosely.

'You want to keep hearing open a little bit at all times,' Toothless instructed, sensing that she didn't want to talk about her apparent fascination with his senses. 'So we can communicate no matter where we are.'

'Done,' Grey agreed.

'Other than that, though, you want to not use my senses, or vice versa, unless there is a reason,' he suggested. 'I know when you are doing it, but there are some things I just do not want a spectator for, and I am sure you feel the same.'

'You feel so nice and warm…' Grey said slowly, quietly, with all the reluctance that was usually absent from her personality.

'I'm freezing cold right about now,' he said.

'Not compared to how I feel,' she retorted. 'You have scales, you have body fat. I got lost in the moment. It won't happen again.'

He wasn't sure how to respond to that; on the one paw, if she was actually so cold she considered his frigid existence to be warm, he could empathize with her preferring his body's feeling over her own. On the other, letting her lie senseless in her hideout all day, every day was just asking for trouble, either from the Skrill or from just neglecting her own body.

'So long as you ask and explain, we'll see what works best,' he decided, effectively postponing dealing with that particular problem until the next time it came up–

'Can I feel you tonight?' Grey immediately asked.

'I… yes.' He would just be trying to sleep, there was nothing awkward about it. Though he was hoping this wasn't the start of a pattern…

Author's Note : Oh, Toothless. You really don't know what you've just gotten yourself into. Ah well, at least it can't be worse than the predicament you're already in. Probably.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Something was going on in the ice nest; Toothless couldn't be sure, especially with his view still somewhat blurred thanks to the thicker ice wall, but he thought there were more dragons flying in than there had been flying out to fish for their morning meal. A lot more. A veritable swarm of wings and tails dropping from above, as opposed to the trickle that had left earlier.

'What's going on here?' he murmured, knowing that Grey could hear him. She had backed off his sense of touch for the time being, if only because returning to her own body after a night of ignoring it was apparently an unpleasant experience, but she was still listening and watching from her hideout.

'The fighting dragons are back,' Grey chirped in his ear, 'and that means it's time for the inter-nest brawl. Who will win, the Skrill or one four-winged nightmare owl?'

'Is that a serious question?' He didn't think the blurry shapes were fighting, but it wouldn't surprise him if the King staged mock-combat for his own entertainment. That was the sort of thing he could imagine the Queen doing if she didn't have real combat to sate herself with–

'Wait,' he huffed, 'fighting dragons? They go out and fight someone else?'

'Yes, humans,' Grey confirmed. 'Which seems really hypocritical to me, given the leader of their fighting dragons keeps one as a pet, but I guess you can't account for owl-dragon being weird.'

Toothless was getting used to being slammed with revelations from every direction, but that didn't mean he liked the feeling. In this case, he was too bewildered and jaded from the last time he'd been surprised to immediately jump on that impossibility. Instead, he calmly approached the ice wall and did his best to compensate for the lack of clarity by leaning in and staring really hard.

'You can rub your paw on it and get a better look,' Grey remarked.

He did so, taking care to avoid scratching it. There was still a warping effect, but some of the cloudiness went away, and he could see well enough to tell dragon-shapes apart. 'Now, help me find this human and owl-dragon,' he requested. 'Also, tell me what an owl is.'

'Owls are birds that don't have necks, but they can spin their heads all the way around,' Grey explained in a serious voice. 'Look for a big orange-brown blob with too many wings. It will probably be near the King. Why do you call him that, anyway? It fits, I like the name, but the Skrill just call him the alpha.'

'I call him the King because the last one I met insisted on being called a Queen, and she held a nest under her sway too,' he said, straining to spot the dragon Grey had described. 'Also, birds that can turn their heads all the way around? I'm not sure I believe you.' If they did exist, there were none on the Isle of Night. Which made sense, there wasn't much of anything on the Isle aside from small birds and critters, but still. Such a strange bird seemed more likely to be one of Grey's jokes.

'They do exist, I saw one once– there!' There was a pause while Grey figured out why Toothless wasn't moving. 'Oh. Down, left, on the shore by where his tusks always go when he's asleep.'

Sure enough, there was a large orange-brown blob where Grey indicated. Toothless didn't see anything that would indicate extra wings, but he assumed they were just hidden. Far more interesting was the thin, colorful figure scrabbling off the four-winged dragon's back and up onto a tusk that had just been lowered into reach.

'What do you know about this human?' he asked. 'And why does it walk on all fours? They tend to only use two legs, like a Nadder.'

'I know plenty,' Grey said bitterly. 'It has been around for at least as long as I have. The four-wing gets snappy if it plays with any other dragon. The King likes it. Whenever a fighting flock goes out, it and the four-wing are there. The Skrill ignore it. The rest of the nest likes it, or at least do not care about it, even though it's clearly a human trying to act like one of them, not actually a dragon.'

Toothless thought about that, and how Night Furies were treated in this same nest. Grey's bitterness made sense. 'They'll accept a human among them, but not us,' he said softly.

'Not us,' Grey agreed sullenly. 'It's not fair.'

'It's not fair,' he agreed, 'but it might be useful. Humans can't be controlled like we can,' as far as he knew… 'I think,' he clarified, feeling sick to his stomach. 'I hope they cannot.' He'd never had cause to question that, but what he was seeing now… It certainly seemed more likely that a human had gotten caught and put under orders. Scrabbling around on all fours and not having anyone to talk to couldn't be preferable to living with their own kind, not without a link to aid in translation. Since Night Furies were the only ones who could do that, this human definitely didn't have one.

'It doesn't really matter, that human despises us just like the Skrill,' Grey informed him. 'It goes around fixing shredded wings and other injuries, but when we get hurt it doesn't care.'

'Sounds like you've spent a lot of time watching it,' Toothless murmured.

'Until it got boring,' Grey said far too cheerily, her mood snapping back so quickly Toothless was entirely certain it wasn't genuine. 'There's only so much of a human pretending to be a dragon that one can stand before it gets repetitive. They still have not figured out how to fly on their own or breathe fire, so they cannot do any of the interesting things anyway.'

'No, but they have other skills,' he murmured, a thought occurring to him. 'This might be useful.'

Grey watched silently – another piece of evidence in favor of her uptick in mood being fake, she only went silent when she was upset – as he turned around and found a patch of smooth dirt. It was good she was quiet, because he needed to concentrate.

He had spent entire nights with Maour as they designed various tailfins and other contraptions, watching those thin hands scratch out marks on parchment as he mumbled to himself. Maour had explained that these marks were part of a complicated system of runes, which represented sounds, which represented words, which represented thoughts. Over time, Toothless had noticed certain runes commonly used and asked about them, so he knew what some of it meant. It wasn't the same as understanding the visual language, but it might be enough...

He closed his eyes, trying to recall one specific mark that Maour often scratched into his drawings with an arrow pointing at a troublesome part of an invention – a piece that broke off or refused to spin when it should have, some failure that would leave him groaning and writing a single word in frustration. The first rune had a sloping downward line, so he dragged his paw until he had one, ten times the size of Maour's little marks. There was a line sticking out of said slope, so he added another at roughly the right angle. And so on, one line at a time, triple-checked against his memories.

Why. It was the one word he felt confident he could reproduce that was applicable to their situation, a challenge to the human lurking in this nest. An impossibility they could not hope to ignore if they saw it… If they could read at all, after spending so long in this nest. He didn't know.

It was a long shot, so long as to not count as a shot at all, but he did it anyway, going over the lines with his paw once, twice, three times to make them deep and as close to permanent as he could manage.

'What is it?' Grey asked curiously. 'Are you going to stick something out of those lines? Like a trap?'

'The lines are a trap, their shape means something to humans,' he explained. Though the idea of sticking things in the lines made him think of putting pebbles in to make them more easily seen. He went over to her rock pile and began sweeping suitable bits of rock back toward his word. 'Only humans know how to make them. I am asking "why" in a way that it cannot possibly ignore.'

'Why what?' Grey asked.

'Why this, why are we trapped, why is it here, why anything,' he huffed in response. 'I could ask those things specifically, but my memory isn't perfect, and their way of communicating with shapes is very complicated.'

'I think it's really interesting that you know anything,' Grey chirped enthusiastically. 'Can you teach me? How do you know? Does it work on all humans or just weird ones? Is there a version that only Night Furies can understand?'

'I don't know enough but I can try, can't say, all humans, no but that's a good idea,' Toothless rattled back, hoping his second reply would get lost amidst the others. He was taking the warning about not mentioning family seriously; he would have no part in setting the Skrill on the Isle, on Fora and Vern and everyone else who lived there. Even mention of a friendly human might remind Sadistic or Angry of the one that had been on his back when they attacked him…

Though their disinterest in that made a lot more sense now, given they were apparently used to seeing a dragon flying around with a pet human in tow.

'Wait.' Grey paused, sounding confused. 'Why would we need a secret language when we can already do this?'

'You mean talking in my head from anywhere you are is good enough that we don't need to scratch in the dirt to communicate?' Toothless laughed, looking over at where she was hidden. 'That's a fair point.'

'I'm not used to any of this,' Grey grumped. 'It would have been a good idea if this wasn't possible.'

'It would have,' he assured her. 'And–'

Tolerable, the Skrill watching them on this particular morning, leaped from his perch and flew overhead, startling Toothless and presumably Grey. Toothless turned to watch him go, but he wasn't going far, stopping to fly in circles around the massive, four-winged dragon hovering just above the ice wall.

'I forgot, the human always comes to see when one of us is brought in,' Grey whispered. 'It's been so long…'

The Skrill buzzed irritably, lightning flickering along his body as it was wont to do, but the four-winged dragon – who was bigger than the Skrill, if only by a small margin – growled and shook its head. The two dragons flew overhead, so slow the four-winged one was gliding. A small head poked over the side, staring down at Toothless in particular.

It didn't look like a human head, mottled grey and blue with a splash of red across where the nose would be. There was a horn and a stub that might have been a horn jutting out of the top, worn and damaged, and even if it was a mask, he couldn't see a hint of normal human skin. He knew something had to be behind the mask, but all he saw in the eyeholes was a dark shadow.

The neck quirked to the side in a motion he knew was unnaturally sharp – humans didn't move like that – and then the human withdrew.

The four-winged dragon flew away, and Tolerable returned to his perch. Star and Hefnd hadn't even looked up throughout the occurrence.

'Maybe it did not see your question?' Grey offered.

'No, it saw,' Toothless rumbled. They had to have seen, looking directly down at him and the shapes he had dug out. Seen, but not noticed, or understood, or cared. He didn't think this particular human was anything like Maour or the others. They wouldn't be an ally, they would be part of the problem.

O-O-O

It was a strange contrast, dark ships made of metal and dark wood, pulling into a destroyed village… There to help, to distribute food and offer passage, even though they were clearly meant for war, not peace.

Maour watched from atop a crushed building, having climbed up to get a good view without endangering Von. She was huddled in their makeshift shelter, waiting for him and Ruffnut to return. Ruffnut was somewhere, he didn't know. Maybe she was trying to gather information, or maybe she was just messing around. He didn't really get her, especially on her own like this. The twins had a rhythm, one the Myrkurs worked with and complemented. Ruffnut on her own was… off.

Or maybe he was the one feeling off, feeling wrong. He was worried sick for Toothless, and he missed his family. He missed Heather too, and hated that she would have no idea where he had gone or whether he was even still alive.

He had plenty of reasons to be frustrated in general, and the juxtaposition of war and peace playing out in front of him definitely wasn't helping. Bulky, armored warriors were passing out jerky and water to the masses, moving with all the assurance of trained killers, and none of the brutality. On occasion someone was shoved out of the way or yelled at, but nothing ever came of it, despite the crossbows and swords the warriors all carried.

There was a disturbing number of crossbows, at that. Every single warrior he saw had one, and he could see dozens within the tightly-packed crowd. He didn't know where all of the refugees had spent the night; he wouldn't have thought so many were alive. The island had seemed far more lifeless the night before. The dragons that had attacked had done a number on the place, leaving it so destroyed that its inhabitants were willingly filing aboard a warship rather than staying and trying to pick up the pieces.

He wanted to help, too. But all else aside, there wasn't anything he could do here. He hadn't come bearing supplies, and Von couldn't take on even a single extra passenger. He wouldn't ask her even if she could; she was still adjusting to carrying two, let alone three, and the islands this far north were both sparse and mostly devoid of life. If they tried taking someone to the nearest inhabited island, there was a very real chance that Von would collapse long before getting there, and doom them all.

There was nothing he could do, at least not directly. But indirectly… The dragons had attacked for a reason. Raids could conceivably be random, targets of opportunity, but dragons did not come together to raze islands to the ground so thoroughly that nothing could eke out a living in the aftermath, not by chance.

"Oy!' A man's yell caught his attention, irreverent and loud above the subdued crowd passing through narrow streets and winding around piles of burned rubble. The voice was familiar.

A familiar form clambered up onto a partially-collapsed outhouse to cut past most of the thronging people and approach the ship dealing out supplies. "Can I get a bulk discount on supplies?"

Maour shook his head at the man's sheer audacity; those supplies were being given out for free, but to the inhabitants of this wrecked place, not shady ship captains who had almost certainly showed up afterward. He knew that voice and figure, both belonged to the dragon captain he had spoken to on their last information-gathering trip. Their ship had to be fast, to have gotten here so quickly; Von wasn't all that fast, and her path North was more zig-zag than straight most days out of necessity, but she was still at a distinct advantage compared to a ship going anything less than full sails the entire way.

He contemplated approaching the dragon trapper to find out whether he knew which of the ships in the fleet carried Drago, or if Drago was here at all… But their last meeting had ended with Eret spooked by something, and Maour didn't feel like speaking to the human side of this conflict quite yet. That would be a last resort, because it would mean he needed help attacking the dragon nest.

Talking and sneaking seemed like the smarter thing to try first, and given the flock of dragons – a Terror, to take Eret's terminology – had just been here, they had to be close to the ice nest. It would be smart to check that out first. Going there would reveal things none of the people here could possibly know.

O-O-O

Von didn't miss the ruined village and miserable island it had been located on, but she did miss having somewhere not-frozen to rest her paws. Their last stop had been a sea stack liberally coated in slick ice, and she was still feeling the cold all throughout her limbs.

Worse, the field of icebergs up ahead implied she wasn't going to be finding anywhere even that warm in the near future.

"That looks like the start of the ice fields," Maour commented, his voice dry and cracking. He didn't speak much while they were in the air, but Von thought he had been even more terse since they left the ravaged island and the war fleet aiding it. She didn't quite know why, since it seemed anyone helping others was a good thing, but it had bothered him.

"Well, that solves one mystery," Ruffnut said. "Only two days' flight from that place? They definitely attacked to get rid of their rowdy next-door neighbors."

Von recalled some groggy evenings when the other families would complain about being woken from sleep by the sounds of explosions and laughter drifting through the tunnels, the Myrkurs up to no good. The thought of humans annoying their draconic neighbors in the same fashion made her snort. Then stinging chunks of frost that pelted her face, dislodged from around her nostrils, reminded her why she didn't usually laugh at Ruffnut's jokes. Aside from them not being funny, that was.

Icebergs passed below her as she flew, chunks of white stark against the grey seas, even with the sun covered by the clouds and the fog restricting her view. They were massive, miniature mountains floating alongside each other, grinding together. She had never known that ice was noisy, but it was, there was no mistaking the constant rumble, the cracking and crashing, the way all of the icebergs were moving, constantly shifting with the tides or whatever else sufficed to move such things–

It was far from the worst scenery she had been subjected to on this horrible trip, and she could have called it beautiful if she wasn't so worried about what lay beyond it. What it protected, though saying that this arrangement of nature protected anything seemed backward, implying it had been made for such a purpose instead of existing regardless of who might shelter behind it.

"Remember the plan?" Maour asked at one point as they flew over the ice.

The plan, as far as she knew, was to fly in, talk to the first dragon they met that wasn't a Skrill, and wing it from there. It wasn't a good plan, or much of a plan at all. Planning required knowing something of what they were going up against, and here they knew next to nothing. Just that there might be Skrill, and there might be ice-spitting dragons, and there might be humans, and all of the above might be hostile or might not, and somewhere in the aforementioned mess was a Night Fury who was missing a tailfin and waiting for rescue.

For all their information-gathering prior to this, it didn't feel like they knew anything useful.

'Find someone to talk to and go from there,' she summarized.

"And if we see a Skrill, crush it with the might of justice," Ruffnut added.

'Justice?' Von asked, despite herself.

"Duh, justice," Ruffnut retorted. "What else do you call this?"

'A rescue?' She didn't see where justice came into it; that was for when it wasn't clear who was in the wrong, or how they should be punished. She wasn't here to punish the Skrill, she was here for her brother and Einn if they could get him out too. Dealing with the Skrill was a prerequisite, not the goal.

"Same thing, we're the good girls," Ruffnut said with a smirk. Von couldn't see her, of course, but she knew the smirk was there, especially as Ruffnut made no effort to correct herself. "When the bad people do it, it's kidnapping, but when we do it, it's rescuing."

'That makes no sense,' Von huffed.

"Of course it doesn't," Ruffnut retorted, "but that doesn't mean I'm wrong. It just means I'm not using the right words to explain it to you."

'What are the right words for me to explain that I don't feel like wrapping my head around this conversation?' Von asked.

"There's a dragon flying toward us right now?" Ruffnut suggested. "That'd do it."

'But that's not true,' Von huffed.

"Sure it is, you just aren't looking up," Ruffnut said seriously. "Long, lanky, purple, horns on the head, four limbs… I don't recognize the type."

Von looked, angling herself upward, and sure enough there was a dragon far above, diving to meet them. He or she flew cautiously, circling around at a distance, watching her warily.

'Hello, who are you?' Von called out, settling into a nonthreatening glide. Few dragons considered someone who was gliding to be a threat, because to glide was to do the absolute minimum required to stay in the air, nothing more.

'I am me,' the purple dragon shot back, his voice confirming him as male but little more. 'Where are you coming from?'

'From?' she asked. 'Not where am I going, but where have I left behind?' That certainly wasn't the first thing she would have asked. 'Just recently, a miserable bit of rock that was totally frozen over. Is there anywhere more comfortable than that where I can rest my paws?'

"Don't tell him about the Isle," Maour whispered. "If there are Skrill around…"

Von knew that; they had no idea what the situation was here, she wasn't going to reveal her home to a dragon who could very well tattle to a nest of Skrill.

'Are your pets dangerous?' the purple dragon asked after a moment of silence. He had fallen in to fly with her, or at least in the same direction, but kept a dozen wingspans between them.

'As dangerous as I am,' she rumbled, watching his reaction. From the way he stiffened and flinched away even though there was already quite a bit of distance between them, he certainly thought she was worth worrying about.

She was glad Maour and Ruffnut were keeping silent; it was looking more and more like the natives of this particular nest weren't going to immediately be on her side, and if that was the case they should be kept in the dark as much as possible. Not knowing that her passengers – who the dragon had immediately jumped to calling her pets, a strange thing she hoped Maour could explain later – could talk was definitely important.

'I can take you to a resting place,' the purple dragon offered. 'Fly with me.' He proceeded to continue flying in the exact same direction, at the same painfully slow pace.

Von played along for a little while, gliding and resting while she could. From the subtle interrogation she had just gone through, she was guessing that there wouldn't be anything pleasant waiting for them at this nest. But he was probably taking her to the nest, and in this fog she couldn't be sure of finding it on her own, so she wouldn't break off until she saw it in the distance. Then she could say goodbye to this possible enemy, hide somewhere amidst the icebergs, and wait until they were alone to investigate.

Or so she was planning; Maour and Ruffnut weren't objecting, so she assumed they were either following her lead, or coming up with their own plans that also involved following along for the time being. She wished they would tell her if that was the case.

No obviously nest-like shape appeared on the horizon; when the purple dragon dove, Von couldn't see anything except oddly-shaped icebergs. The flat spit of land that lay between two such icebergs, topped with snow and a few bare rocks, barely counted as a place to set down.

'I assumed you were taking me to your nest,' she admitted, circling around the tiny island. The icebergs rose up to either side, making her feel like she was flying in a ravine, not in the open air.

'You wanted somewhere to rest,' he replied nervously. 'Stay here, ease your wings. I will go ask our alpha if you can come to our nest.'

'Does it seem likely he'll say yes?' Von asked curiously.

'He always likes new guests, but powerful ones make some of us nervous, so it is best to get approval first,' the dragon explained. 'I will be back soon!'

Von watched him go, though her vision was soon blocked by the jagged, towering sides of the icebergs. 'So… What do you think?'

Ruffnut leaped out of the saddle, flourished a knife, and almost dropped it before getting a firm grip on the hilt. "Sounds like he's scared of awesomeness," she said confidently. "Also, it sounds like the Skrill wouldn't be welcome here, given how big and scary they are."

"It's possible they're not here," Maour agreed. He remained in the saddle, either out of wariness or a simple lack of interest in the unimpressive island available to him. "Maybe there is a Skrill nest somewhere nearby, and all of the less intimidating dragons gather here to avoid being preyed upon… Though that doesn't quite fit what we heard the Skrill saying about inviting dragons to stay with them, unless that was a trick."

'I would rather this be a whole nest of allies who will gladly help us in exchange for us solving some misunderstanding with the humans,' Von offered. That would be ideal; she'd feel a lot more confident flying to the rescue with a couple dozen dragons flying as backup.

"He did seem pretty chill about you having pet humans," Ruffnut remarked. "Maybe they're kidnapping fair maidens to be their pets, and the villages have got the wrong idea?"

"You don't raze an island to the ground if they're your supply of entertainment," Maour said. "There's a real war going on here, but they don't mind humans that much. They're afraid of stronger dragons, but still willing to offer hospitality if their alpha approves–"

There was a jagged flash of light in the clouds above, silent and threatening. Von crouched, and Ruffnut leaped back into the saddle. "Fly!" she shouted, and Von leaped up, beating her wings hard against the frigid air. It had been a trap, a lie, or the Skrill had just found them by chance; however it had happened, there was definitely a Skrill around.

More than one, she saw as she rose above the tops of the icebergs. Two Skrill were quickly approaching from the West, and a third was diving from above, all three crackling with unspent energy.

Von needed no advice from Maour or Ruffnut on what to do next; she turned tail and fled as fast as she could. One Skrill was a challenge, two was outright unfair, but three was suicide. She dove back down below the tops of the icebergs, flying between two for a short distance to try and lose them.

Lightning struck to either side, showering ice shards in front of her. She backflapped once to slow herself, the strain making itself felt in every part of her wing shoulders, then pushed forward again almost immediately, only barely passing over the biggest pieces of ice. Staccato cracks resounded above the usual cracking of the ice field, further explosions peppering the icy ravine she was fleeing down. The end of the ravine was rapidly approaching, the path she was taking ending to the left where a new iceberg merged with the existing one, and became far narrower to the right. She ducked to the right at the last moment, nearly throwing Ruffnut off in her haste, and flew lower, closer to the water. The jagged surface of the ice flashed by, reflecting each new explosion's light, mostly coming from behind; the blasts were still striking where she had been, not where she was now.

It had only been moments, maybe a dozen heartbeats, since she saw the Skrill, and she was already flying for her life. 'What do I do?' she all but screeched. Her current path ended in the distance, this time with no convenient offshoots for her to go down, and the blasting had stopped, meaning the Skrill didn't think she was back where she had started anymore.

"Keep moving, stay low," Maour shouted. "But don't stay here!"

Staying in this particular gorge definitely wasn't an option; Von threw herself up just as the icebergs grew too close together to fly between, barely avoiding a horrible crash. A gut-wrenching shriek came from behind almost immediately, and she saw lights flashing off to her left, so she dove to the right–

The third Skrill dropped down like a lightning bolt, sparking in all directions and almost driving her from the sky, missing her by less than two wing-lengths. The Skrill hit the ice hard, unable to pull out in time, but Von doubted the impact had been enough to ground it. She dove, spiraled to the side just in case someone was trying to fire on her, and scanned the drifting ice field for another set of narrow openings to fly in. The Skrill were bigger and less maneuverable than she was, if not by much, and going through places they couldn't follow seemed like the least terrible of her options. Compared to flying in the open or trying to take the fight to them, it was downright safe.

Two irregular mountains of ice were grinding together below her, cliffsides smashing and inexorably breaking each other down. There was a barely-visible opening beneath them, completely hidden from above and only partially visible when approached from the right angle. She dove without hesitation, dropped down into the opening, and immediately sought somewhere to land. There were ledges everywhere, places where ice chunks had been ripped out irregularly, but none were secluded enough.

They would have to do; she had no idea where this particular tunnel in the ice led, but she would bet it was a dead end. She dropped to perch on a slanted bit of ice near the bottom of the trench, just above the water's surface, and huddled down, motionless. Her heart was pounding triple-time, and her every instinct roared that she should be moving–

Two Skrill blasted down into the crevasse with wild abandon, roaring as they flew onward, right over her without noticing her presence. It was dark down near the water, and they were flashing their own bright lights, blinding themselves. Their localized lighting storms disappeared between the icebergs.

She wasn't going to forget the third Skrill again; if they were smart, they would be waiting above, ready to pounce once she came back up anywhere near where she had gone down. Going back up would waste the momentary respite she had won.

Instead, she called up her fire, inhaling deeply, and began flaming the ice, melting it as fast and as quietly as she could. The ice was rough underpaw, but in the end just frozen water, and said water streamed away from where she flamed, leaving behind a depression too shallow to be called a hole, but big enough that she could squeeze herself against it and be even less obvious from above.

"If we're going to hide, let's do it right," Ruffnut hissed, reaching over to scrape up some slush. She slathered it on Von's head, which would have frustrated Von if she didn't understand what Ruffnut was trying to do. Instead of complaining, she bore it and tried to huddle against the ice in a way that didn't feel like she was freezing half her body.

"No, don't do that, she'll freeze to death," Maour objected. "Just… sit tight. Be ready to fly if they double back."

'When I do fly, where should I go?' she asked anxiously. 'I cannot take three of them, I could not even take two. They found me so quickly…'

"I'm sure that dragon sent for them, maybe he had a friend who went flying for them the moment we were spotted," Maour said darkly. "It took them no time at all to get to us. That means their nest is close, which means we're on the right track."

'That does not tell me where to go, their entire nest must be hostile for that random dragon to give us away immediately,' she fretted. A soft rain of ice shards from above made her flinch, even though it was just the constant grinding of the icebergs at work. She could feel the rumbling in her paws, transmitted through the ice all around her.

"Can't count on anyone out here to help," Maour agreed. "Maybe, if we managed to shake them, you could go find the nest, but that might just get us right back into trouble."

"We're not going to get Toothless out of anywhere as we are, remember?" Ruffnut reminded them. "Maour's gotta build a new tailfin, unless I missed him putting one together in some random cave with a box of scraps."

"Yeah… Ugh." Maour took a hand off his Scythe long enough to rub at his eyes. "This was a mistake, I'd hoped we'd be able to make allies with the dragons out here. That doesn't seem like it's going to happen."

"Ya think?" Ruffnut asked.

Something exploded in the distance, loud enough to be heard above the ambient noise. Another explosion sounded, more distant than the first, and was followed by a faint howl of pure rage.

"That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence," Maour said dryly. "Von, how long can you stand hiding here?"

'Compared to going out there, this is fine,' she said. 'I am not that cold.' That was a blatant lie, but she really didn't want to leave until she was sure they were gone.

"Well, sounds like we'll be here a while yet," Ruffnut sighed. She twisted in the saddle, and Von heard a few scratching sounds. "Hey Maour, do the Skrill have horns? I can't remember."

"You know, I don't remember either," Maour admitted. "Whenever I see them, I'm more worried about the lightning shooting everywhere. Half the time I can't even see them except as silhouettes or blinding shapes."

'They have weird fin-like spikes, a dozen of them, like Nadders,' Von recalled, thinking back to the few times she had faced a Skrill long enough to get a good look. She didn't have the problem Maour had described, maybe because her eyes were different.

"Fin-spikes… Right." Ruffnut scratched at the ice for a little while. Von listened for more roaring, but heard nothing. "There. Maour, thoughts?"

"It's ugly, which I think means you've done a good job," Maour deadpanned. "Why the drawing?"

"So we can figure out how to better kill them," Ruffnut explained. "Let's play 'throw the imaginary spear at the dragon' and see what we come up with.

Von shifted, turning around so she could look at Ruffnut's drawing. It was crude, little more than a stick figure, but she supposed it was fairly good for something scratched out in a tense situation with no reference to look at.

They began throwing ideas around, and no Skrill came crashing down on them, but Von couldn't shake the feeling that they were still in danger. They were deep in enemy territory, and they couldn't stay holed up beneath the ice forever.

Author's Note:  I'm not quite sure what my guest reviewer from last chapter considers a 'super-manipulator', but I feel it's safe to say that no, whatever your definition, Grey is not one. It's pretty self-evident that things are not to her liking, even within the confines of their little prison. If she was manipulative, she would probably have done something about that at some point before Toothless came along. It's not like she has anything  else  to do.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

The cold forced Von to abandon her hiding place in the ice far sooner than she would have preferred. If it were up to her, she would have waited until nightfall. The Skrill were the epitome of bright and flashy, they couldn't possibly have good night vision, whereas she was made for the night.

But she was shivering, Maour and Ruffnut were shivering, and waiting any longer might result in frostbite. So she found herself taking to the air, resisting the urge to waste a shot on warming herself up, and cautiously flying out of the covered crevice she'd taken shelter in, Maour and Ruffnut crouched on her back, weapons at the ready.

They were not immediately ambushed or struck down as she emerged into the foggy afternoon, but that was the best she could say for the situation she found herself in. She dropped down to the top of the iceberg, feeling dangerously exposed.

Lightning flashed above, silent and distant. Dragons of various types, some recognizable and some completely foreign to her, flew low over the many icebergs, diving into the gaps between, landing to investigate strange things, and generally passing over everything with a purpose. There weren't many dragons within view, maybe half a dozen, but the fog meant she had no idea whether that was all there were, or whether the entire ice field was being searched in the same manner.

"Skrill have friends," Ruffnut muttered. "Who'd have thought?"

"They'll be waiting up high," Maour added, much more helpfully. "Where the air is thin and they can see far in all directions. Stay low, stay away from the other dragons, and head for the edge of the ice field."

All of that was well and good, but Von hesitated. Having a plan and carrying it out were two very different things, and she couldn't even see the edge of the ice fields from where she stood. She remembered which direction they had come from, thankfully, but there were two Gronckles buzzing around that way, and likely more dragons past them, out of sight.

Black scales against a backdrop of white; she had no chance. It was a question of when they'd be spotted, not if, and once that happened the chase would be back on.

She set out on paw, reasoning that the uneven, semi-mountainous nature of the icebergs would at least make her harder to see except from directly above. The ice and snow were alternatively slick and coarse against her paws, and running with passengers was an entirely different experience to flying with them. To her immense dismay, she found herself tiring before even reaching the edge of the first iceberg.

Said edge was simple enough; one hard leap with a flap at the apex of her path was enough to carry her over to the jagged edge of the next one. She panted hoarsely, her breath coming out in jets of mist and merging with the foggy air all around her. It was starting to snow, high above, and little specks that fell like rain stung her face. The weather was reliably horrible on this trip, so she wasn't surprised, but it didn't make her feel good, either.

A Monstrous Nightmare, easily identified by the way it was engulfed in flames, flew directly overhead, passing by without so much as looking down. Von was content to consider that a lucky break, but she changed course anyway, without prompting from Maour. Even the chance of being spotted and reported to the Skrill meant she couldn't keep to an easily predictable course.

The dragons searching, at first seemingly unavoidable, were becoming more and more spread out as time passed. They were moving in ones and twos, not coordinating at all, and she was pretty sure she'd seen some retrace the path of others, wasting time on double-checking what only needed to be checked once. The very thoroughness that would have made hiding in one place impossible aided her in a way; she could move through otherwise open areas while all of the searchers within eyeshot were delving down into the cracks and crevices.

But for all that she hadn't been noticed yet, it was not like she was making progress. So long as she remained on paw, she was moving at a fragment of her top speed, a worthless fragment that wouldn't get her anywhere before nightfall… Before daybreak, at this pace, maybe even longer. On the other paw, taking to the air in any fashion would make her far easier to spot, and going up above the clouds would draw Skrill to her…

And all of this difficulty was in getting away from the icy nest she was now sure held Toothless. If being captured didn't come with the minor consequence of having her wings broken, she would be considering allowing herself to be taken. As it was, even if she did that, Maour hadn't made a replacement tailfin yet, so it wasn't like getting to Toothless would do anything.

Her frustration didn't warm her against the cold or steel her heart against the constant stress of listening for the first sign of discovery, but it did help the time pass. She couldn't be mad at Maour, especially as she hadn't objected, but coming here hadn't been the smartest thing. They knew the Skrill were dangerous, they knew they would need a new tailfin for Toothless to get him out, and they had left that destroyed village without even looking for supplies for Maour to work with.

She hopped over a gap between icebergs, this one little more than a crack with a metallic grey far below, and wished they'd not come. The icebergs cracked together below–

"Wait, go back," Maour said. "That wasn't water down there."

Von stopped, checked their immediate surroundings – the only dragon close by had gone down into a gap in the ice a while ago and not come back up, so they were relatively safe for the moment – and then doubled back. She didn't feel comfortable standing over the gap between icebergs, so she stood on one side and leaned forward to look.

She fully expected to see grey-tinted water, or maybe a wrecked warship. Something old, empty and forgotten.

A very much active metal ship with humans swarming the top, moving white things around with a sense of purpose, on the other paw… Not exactly something she had anticipated.

"Hey, they're hiding their ship," Ruffnut whispered. "With white flags! Why didn't we think to bring something like that? We could just pretend to be a chunk of ice."

Sure enough, the white things the humans were spreading out and draping over the various surfaces of their ship looked a lot like ice, at first glance. When they finished, their entire ship would look like a big piece of ice that had fallen from the jagged cliffs above and gotten lodged just above the waterline. It was clever…

She wanted one of those white sheets. Or to hide in the depths of their ship, but they almost certainly weren't friendly enough for that to be an option, so she'd settle for stealing her own camouflage. 'How do we get one of those?' she asked.

"We'd still run into the problem of not being able to stay still," Maour warned her.

"I'd rather be a white blob moving along the ice than a black one," Ruffnut countered. "Plus, it'd be like a blanket, and it's freezing out here. Come on, let's go lift one of those before they finish, they'll notice if we do it after."

O-O-O

Ruffnut rubbed her hands together in anticipation… and because they were cold. Finally, a use for her skills! Von and Maour needed to infiltrate and steal something, and that meant they needed her.

The target was a weird one, even by her standards. It was fat, covered in metal, and lacked many of the obvious features of a ship, such as sails, or even a mast. It was sitting at the bottom of what was for all intents and purposes a canyon of ice, meaning no approach from the sides. The strip of sky the ship's occupants could see was almost certainly being watched, given they were in hostile territory and already on alert.

If that were all, she'd suggest waiting until it got dark and sneaking down. But they had to move now, for multiple reasons. They were cold and standing still was a danger, for one thing, and sooner or later a dragon was going to fly close enough to notice them. That, plus the ship steadily turning itself white as camouflage… They had to move now, and they had to get down without being spotted and filled with arrows.

It was a challenge. It was perfect for her. Not so perfect for the other two. "Okay, looks like I'm going down," she said confidently.

"Just you?" Maour asked.

"There's no way we're getting Von anywhere down that canyon without her being spotted," Ruffnut quickly explained. "And I can be faster on my own." The iceberg walls – cliffs, really – were jagged and offered plenty of handholds, plus a few twisted routes that looked to be mostly hidden from the eyes of those on the ship. She could probably get down without any problems. Getting Maour down, though, would be tricky, so she'd rather not. He didn't spend his nights trying to keep up with Boom, he wasn't trained for this.

"We'll circle around and come back for you," Maour agreed. "Von, are any of them coming this way?"

"I can see a Gronckle who might get here before nightfall, but other than that, no," Von confirmed. Ruffnut was just glad Von could see anything in this fog; she didn't think the Fury realized it, but she and Maour hadn't seen any of these dragons Von mentioned, save for the Monstrous Nightmare that had been stupid enough to light itself on fire. Thankfully, said dragons all seemed to be in the same boat in terms of visibility, or lack thereof; that was probably a large part of why none had caught them yet.

Ruffnut hopped off Von's back, arched her own back to get the cramps out, and palmed the knife she'd gotten from Maour. So far, she'd used it for everything but stabbing enemies, and this didn't seem like it would break the streak. "I'll be right here when you get back, but if I'm not circle around again," she suggested. "No telling whether I'll be as fast coming up as I am going down."

'Be careful,' Von hissed.

"Hey, I can always pretend I'm a valkyrie with a head injury if they catch me," she suggested. "I'll say it made me stupid, stumble a bit… How else would I have gotten out here? They'll love me." She wasn't entirely certain the men below were Vikings, they seemed pretty foreign to her, but whatever. They wouldn't catch her.

'Hope you do not have to use that story,' Von told her seriously. 'Because it stinks.' Then she was off, loping across the icy hills and crags, crouching low to the ground. Her pure black form was almost immediately washed out to a dark grey by the fog.

"That blanket is going to be awesome," she muttered to herself as she walked along the ridge toward the likely path down she had spotted. If black turned to grey that quickly, something white would be invisible even while it was moving. As the smarter than average warriors below had already figured out… Though they'd somehow gotten their ship between two icebergs without an obvious way out, so they couldn't be that smart.

The lip she had chosen, a vertical ridge of ice jutted out toward the ship down at the bottom of the canyon, and continued all the way to the top, was perfect. Especially since it already had perfect handholds carved into it, though sized for someone wider and taller than her.

This wasn't going to be an improvised descent, she'd be following someone else's path. "How long have you idiots been stuck here?" she wondered aloud as she began the surprisingly easy climb down. The ice almost immediately numbed her hands, but a brief pause every half-dozen steps to stick her hand in her armpit counteracted that, at least for the time being.

Maybe she would steal some hot water while she was down on their ship. Or an entire chicken roast, if they had one. It would be hilarious to return to Von and Maour bearing cover and food that wasn't flash-fried fresh fish…

"Flash-fried fresh fish," she muttered as she descended. That was good, it was the sort of thing Tuffnut would laugh at and Boom would make into an annoying rhyme… But she was alone, and by the time she saw them again, it would be old and stale and probably forgotten. She had a brilliant work of theft-based art to complete. Tuffnut and the others weren't going to distract her from it, not from halfway across the world!

She dropped the last few feet to an icy ledge roughly at sea level. The only thing between her and the ship was a thin, mostly opaque ridge of ice, which she promptly leaned around.

Seen from the side, it was even weirder than it had first appeared. Someone far too much like Maour had designed this ship, and it showed. Metal plates were bolted together to make up the sides, the entire thing was far too wide and flat, and the parts of the deck not yet covered by white tarps or busy men were made of a strange, coarse-looking wood, metal openings and fiddly devices where ballistae and other war machines should be.

She wasn't here to steal any of that, so she didn't bother wondering how they defended themselves. Her target, the closest white tarp, was conveniently draped just a half-dozen steps and a short jump away from where she stood. So long as she could land on it, bundle it up, and then somehow jump back to the ice again without being noticed, she could take it.

Maour or Von might have waited, but Ruffnut was not a patient woman. She strode out onto the little ice ridge with all the poise and grace in the world. She was just another sailor, coming back from a scouting trip or something, a lot of these guys were less than bulky so she would fit right in–

"Who goes there!" someone yelled. "You're not one of ours!"

It was possible she had let her impatience get the better of her, given she'd come down with the intention of pulling off a perfect heist, but she didn't let that deter her. "You're drunk again," she retorted. "Of course I am!"

The one who had yelled, a skinny fellow in an odd hat that offered absolutely no protection like any proper helmet would, squinted at her. "That's… No, that's not right," he retorted, sounding less than sure of himself. "I've only had two mugs today."

"And it's barely noon," Ruffnut shot back, keenly aware of their growing audience. Men were slowing in their formerly hasty preparations, stopping to watch, and to stare at her in what she hoped was confusion, not outright suspicion.

She leaped aboard the ship, stomping her boots on one of the tarps as a hasty plan formed in her mind. "Seriously, I know I spend a lot of time avoiding the idiots on this ship, but you should at least recognize me!"

"Don't get the covers wet," the oddly-hatted man objected. "They get wet, they freeze, they crack."

"And you're going to make me thaw it out, too, aren't you," she groaned. "Well, fine." She stepped off the tarp she'd sullied – with all of a few crumbling chunks of snow, but it was excuse enough for her – and bundled it up, hastily rolling it into a tight tube about as tall as she was. "Go tell Yorick I'm going to be late for our daily game."

A few of the onlookers glanced at each other; she supposed they didn't have anyone named Yorick on this ship. So much the better for her; it was amazing that they were falling for this in the first place, and someone objecting that he didn't know her after she'd directly mentioned him might break the spell.

They all stood there for a moment, aside from those who were totally ignoring her and going about their business in the background. They stood there because they weren't quite sure whether she was actually one of them. She stood there because she couldn't think of a reliable excuse to go climbing an ice cliff with the tarp she had just said she was going to clean off.

"Oy!" A booming voice startled most of the people watching her. The massive man who came up out of the ship's depths clapped his meaty hands together a few times, catching the attention of the rest. "Get movin', outsmartin' the dragons doesn't work if you're too stupid to follow through!"

"Boss, you recognize this one?" the hat man asked, pointing to Ruffnut. "I don't."

"I don't even know your name, and you complain about everything," the large man retorted. "She's here, idiot. There's only one way to be here, and that's to have come on the ship. Do your job and let her do hers!" He barely even looked at her before stomping down the length of the ship.

Ruffnut noticed with some amusement that the 'boss' was leaving charcoal footprints on the tarps he stepped on, and nobody was picking them up. It looked like the hat man really was a whiner.

Still, he had given her a good excuse to acquire her target without raising suspicions, so she didn't call him out on it. Even if playing out that excuse had her walking toward the hatch, not headed back to where she was going to meet Von and Maour…

It probably wouldn't be a problem. She had time for a detour, and they'd appreciate her all the more if she brought back a warm tarp.

O-O-O

Von had spent the day freezing her paws off, creeping around feeling incredibly exposed, and somehow avoiding all notice, though it helped that apparently some of the searching dragons were getting bored and giving up. Not enough for her to fly away, but enough that she was noticing a difference, even if the Skrill were still presumably making the clear skies above a no-fly zone.

She wasn't miserable, but she certainly wasn't happy. Neither was Maour. Which made it very annoying that when they finally found Ruffnut waiting for them, she bore a big smile and smelled of foreign food, strange but definitely mouth-watering.

"I gotta tell you, that was exactly what I needed," she proclaimed. "Turns out, they have these weird spices they put on everything. Their food is great." She unrolled the big white tarp she had tucked under her arm, and Von dove beneath it. "Do we really still need this, though? I don't see any dragons around."

"Some gave up, but it'll let us travel a little quicker without having to worry about being spotted so easily," Maour said gruffly. "You didn't attract attention?"

"I got plenty of attention," Ruffnut said casually, sliding back onto Von's back with ease despite the tarp pressing down on her. Her voice was slightly muffled for a moment. "Ugh, tarp does not taste nearly as good. Anyway, yeah. Turns out, some of 'em were feeling guilty about not even noticing their attractive fellow crew member the whole time she's been on the ship with them, so yeah. Did you know, these guys have been out here for a month? And that getting stuck was intentional? They have a smaller ship they send back with messages for Drago, they're an observation post."

Von shimmied her wings and tried to pin bits of the tarp between her shoulders and neck, so it wouldn't fall off once she started moving. It was an awkward affair, which didn't help her irritation. She was torn between wanting Ruffnut to stop sounding so smug and wanting to hear what she had learned by apparently just walking up and bluffing her way into being one of them.

"Did they mention what they're telling him?" Maour asked. The tarp shifted on top of him, and Von assumed he was trying to get it to lay more evenly, or something. She thought she had it about as well as it would go without outside help, now.

"Dragon flight frequency in this part of the ice field, scouting out potential paths through, of which there are absolutely none," Ruffnut reported. "Turns out this place sucks for ships. And everything else, too. They're a little worried about getting noticed and swarmed, but the tarps are working pretty well to keep dragons from spotting them. Also, Drago is only two days away from the edge of the ice field if you go East once you get out of it, so if we want to go check out the enemy of our enemy…"

"We'll head toward him, yeah," Maour confirmed. "Von, I'm holding on to it as best I can. Try walking?"

Von shuffled forward, feeling the tug of heavy cloth on her back. It slid back a little, covering the top of her head and draping down over the rest of her, so she could see but not be seen from above. 'Feels good,' she said, moving faster. She didn't know if this tarp was going to actually help her, but it made her feel safer.

O-O-O

Several long hours of creeping across the ice field later, night had fallen, and with it the search had trailed off entirely. They had then discovered that flying with a big air-catching thing draped over Von was entirely impossible. Maour put it away, and moments later they were out over the open water.

Ruffnut was feeling smug. There wasn't any more pleasant word for it, and she didn't care enough to think of one. Smug fit her just fine. Not just because her tarp-snatching mission had gotten them the direction Von was even now flying in. On their way out of the ice field no less than two dragons had flown directly overhead, no doubt fooled by the tarp. It wasn't flashy, it wasn't obvious, and they couldn't be sure that the tarp had saved them… But she liked to think so.

Better yet, she could tell Maour was keenly aware of her smugness, despite her not saying anything about it. Maybe because she hadn't spoken of it, at that. Bragging sometimes worked better when the one to be bragged to was anticipating it, and thus thinking about it without her doing anything.

"You said it took their latest messenger ship two days to reach Drago from the edge of the ice field, right?" Maour asked her.

"Yeah, just about. So we should be there by midnight, right?" Von wasn't as fast as an unburdened Night Fury, or a Skrill carrying a Night Fury, but she was still ridiculously fast compared to any ship.

"Yes, if they move at comparable speeds to the ships back home," Maour said. "Do you know if they had a mast on the little ship they used to send messages? Because the ship we saw didn't have one."

"I don't know anything about the little ship, the guy just said they send messages back," she recalled. She hadn't paid him that much attention. "For all I know, they've been stuffing their reports in empty bottles and tossing them into the ocean. I'm assuming they have a smaller ship that can go back and forth."

"Maybe," Maour agreed. "The mast, though?"

"Why do you care so much about the mast?" she asked. "I think they just took it down or something. You can't disguise your ship as a chunk of ice if there's a big wooden pole sticking out of it."

"If they didn't have a mast, they had to have some other way of sailing," he said irritably. "If they had another way of sailing, it might be faster or slower than what we're used to, which means our estimate for how long it will take to get there could be totally wrong."

'Ruffnut, do not think I am copying you,' Von chimed in for no apparent reason.

"Okay, I won't," Ruffnut agreed. "Even though you could do a lot worse than copying me."

'That said, either Drago's fleet has moved, or Maour is right and they have some way of sailing that is faster,' Von continued. 'I think I can see lights ahead, on the horizon.'

Ruffnut squinted, but she didn't see a thing. "Curse your dragon eyes," she complained. "And here I thought the bonus from the link made me superior."

"The link didn't physically remake your eyes, there were bound to be limits," Maour said absently, leaning forward to get a better look. Ruffnut resisted the urge to bop him on the back of the head and ask him if he could see any better from that far forward. Intentionally annoying him wouldn't end well when she was stuck all but pressed against his back, and potentially flying into another battle to boot.

"Okay, this time can we actually make some allies?" she asked. "Because we're running out of possible friends. Unless there's a sea dragon somewhere who would be willing to take us under the ice in their giant mouth…"

'I am going to regret asking this,' Von sighed, 'but where did you get that idea?'

"The depths of my intelligence astound my lessers," Ruffnut declared. "Also," she added as an afterthought, "Fishlegs keeps giving me books he thinks I'll like. There was this one book of foreign stories that were all crazy like that." She remembered that book; she'd had to stop Blast from chewing on it. Then she'd had to stop Tuffnut from chewing on it too, and then Fishlegs had seen them trying to gnaw the corners and asked for her to give it back.

'You can read?' Von snorted.

"Hey, can you?" Ruffnut retorted.

'I don't have the hands to open books or turn the pages,' Von complained. 'What's your excuse?'

"None, I can read," Ruffnut said smugly.

"That's definitely a fleet of warships," Maour said, blatantly changing the subject from his sister's losing argument. Sixty… Maybe seventy ships, judging by those green lights."

Green lights, indeed. Ruffnut squinted, but they remained stubbornly green, not pale yellow-white like all the rest. She considered asking why some of the lights were green, but then realized she might get a long, boring answer and thought better of it.

'Wouldn't that make it very easy to keep track of the ships when attacking them, if there was one green light per ship and no more?' Von asked. 'If it were up to me I would have none at all, or if I had to have them, put some extras in different places on the same ships so that my fleet looked bigger.'

"He might very well be doing that," Maour conceded.

As they flew closer, the lights on the horizon, green and yellow alike, grew from dots to… slightly larger dots. But the ships they were attached to became visible, hulking blots of darkness and reflected light on the slightly more reflective ocean. The green lights turned out to be scattered across them without any discernible pattern, as Von had suggested, but Maour's assessment had, if anything, been too low.

"Somebody's gonna conquer the world with all of that," Ruffnut said. "Or die trying." Whoever this Drago guy was, he had way too much patience and free time, to assemble a fleet this size. At that, he was apparently chasing a horde of dragons in circles around their home territory, so she already knew that about him.

"It's not just ships, either," Maour observed a short while later. "Something just took off from one of those decks. Either they're being raided, or…"

"Or this guy's got dragon riders too," Ruffnut concluded. "Hey, cool. Good for him." Dragons were reasonable – assuming they weren't taking orders from Skrill – and talking wasn't all it was cracked up to be; she wasn't that surprised to find out somebody had managed to bribe a few Nadders or something. She was, on the other hand, surprised there hadn't been any rumors about it. Just the ones about the single, terrifying dragon rider that might or might not exist.

"Can't be, there's no way to keep that quiet," Maour objected. "Von, do they see us?"

'The ones that flew up just now?' There was a short wait while Von presumably squinted and stared really hard. Ruffnut was really missing her link with Boom; at least with that she could have seen for herself, even if she was just seeing empty night sky.

'No, they're patrolling the air above the armada,' she said after a few moments. 'They don't see us, it's just… guard duty. There are four of them, I don't recognize any, and I think there's only one rider.'

"Time to decide on our approach," Maour said. "Last time we tried walking in and saying hello, it didn't work out."

"Last time for you," Ruffnut felt obliged to point out. "Last time I tried it things couldn't have gone better."

'I do not know if I could sneak onto this fleet like I did the last few islands,' Von added. 'There are guards everywhere on those ships, and more importantly they are close to danger, and they know it. They will be keeping close watch.'

"And Von did see a rider, so maybe we can act all chummy with them first," Ruffnut added. "Just let them talk, find out what the deal is, and then pretend we're doing the same with Von, whatever it is."

"Be ready to fight if they don't realize what's happening right away," Maour warned. "If there was a way to warn them ahead of time that we're not here to attack, I'd be a lot more comfortable with it, but as is we're going to have to just fly up, avoid being taken out of the sky, and try to talk some sense into–"

"Or," Ruffnut drawled, cutting him off before he could get too far, "we could take my far-sighted brilliance and show a white flag. That ought to get us talking, at the very least."

Maour twisted in the saddle to stare at her, and by extension at the saddlebag behind her. "Or that," he conceded.

"Yes," she said with a superbly smug smile. "That."

O-O-O

Von clutched the tarp in both back paws, dragging it under herself as she flew. It flapped and slapped against her, making a lot of noise and totally ruining her already lumpy profile.

But for all that it was ugly and slowing her down so much she wanted nothing more than to drop it, the dragons flying out to meet her without opening fire or sounding alarms proved it was good for something. Again.

Two of the dragons coming toward her were obviously some sort of distant relative of the Gronckle, massive and so lumpy that even their relatively larger wings weren't enough to help her understand how they remained in the air. The other two were long and bulky, but far more reasonably shaped. All four wore full body plate mail the likes of which Maour had dismissed as not worth it for Night Furies years ago, and one of latter type of dragon also carried a human, who was sitting with both legs out to one side, for some reason.

'We come to speak, not to fight,' she called out as they drew close.

None of the dragons flying toward her responded.

"We're here to talk!" Maour yelled, echoing the sentiment in words the foreign rider would be more likely to understand.

"I noticed!" the rider yelled back, his voice gruff. "The bounty?"

"Which one?" Maour retorted. "Von, don't let your guard down," he muttered. "They might think I'm here to sell you or something, and once they know I'm not they might decide to try and take you anyway."

'That really did not need to be said,' Von snorted. Maybe it made him feel better, warning her of such an obvious danger, but it just made her more anxious. Of course she was wary of the dragons now firmly within firing distance potentially deciding she was worth chasing, it had already happened once today!

"The bounty on knowledge of dragons," the rider yelled back. "Or the one on skilled warriors. Or the one on those with new war machines. You qualify for half of them!"

Von closed in with the dragons, turning to fly around them as they slowed to a near-stop in the air. The human rider didn't seem to do anything, but the dragons turned as a group, flying alongside her. She tried to look into the eyes of the one closest to her, but the armor obscured her view.

'Do you speak, or are you entirely under his control?' she asked tentatively. Maour and the rider were exchanging further clarification, but she listened for the dragon's reply. If there was none, that would be a huge warning sign–

'Some of us just don't like talking,' the dragon grunted. 'Why are you here?'

'I am looking for allies to help raid the ice nest,' she said truthfully. That much seemed safe to reveal. 'Why are you here?'

'I wish to see the ice nest overthrown,' the dragon growled. His rider glanced down worriedly, but he did nothing more. 'Your humans?'

'They want the same thing,' she assured him. 'We work together very well.'

'They will speak with Drago, and that will be enough to see them joining our cause,' the armored dragon rumbled confidently. 'It is good you have come here, where you can contribute.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Von purred. 'Tell me, do you know why the dragons of the ice nest don't have the same attitude?' She didn't think this dragon would mind that they had gone there first; they were here now, after all.

'A difference of philosophies, hubris…' The armored dragon shrugged his wings, buffeting his human, who yelped. 'Their loss.'

"Von, we're heading down," Maour said right in her ear. "Leftmost ship, the wooden one with two masts and two green lights."

Von nodded and turned a steady glide into a gentle descent. She was a little disappointed when the other dragons didn't follow, especially the one she had been talking to, but they did have a responsibility to keep watch, it made sense they couldn't break from their patrol. "What did I miss?"

"Drago is the smartest warlord I've ever heard of," Maour said. "He recruits intelligent people and innovators, offers bounties for new knowledge. All war-oriented, but that's still very smart."

"You're just flattered because the stooge up there says you could make a small fortune," Ruffnut objected. "You're sharing if you do, right?"

"Who knows what Drago will be like, or if he'll want to buy knowledge I won't want to sell," Maour cautioned. "But it's apparently standing policy that anyone who comes for a bounty is to be left alone while they're here, so it should be safe to go find out."

"Don't think I didn't notice how you didn't answer my question," Ruffnut grumbled as they flew below the height of the tallest mast in the armada. Up close, it was even more intimidating, its own little island floating with the wind, hulking metal monstrosities with gangplanks between them, and humans of all shapes, colors, and sizes patrolling in armor like that which the dragons were wearing… It gave her the impression of a beehive, or maybe an ant colony, where there was some activity visible from above, but most had to be going on below.

Von landed on the deck of the ship, still clutching the tarp in her back paws. Four men with long pikes and two with crossbows were immediately looking their direction, but it seemed the white flag and maybe being spotted flying with the guard patrol was enough to make them wary, not openly hostile.

"Here to speak to Drago about a bounty or five," Maour said briskly. "I'm told there's a cease-fire arrangement here while we wait to be seen?"

"Aye," one of the men with pikes said, handing his unwieldy weapon to another and gesturing for them to approach. "No fighting, no letting your followers fight, no theft, none of that. From you, or from the others waiting. I'll be taking word of your arrival to Drago in a moment, but I'll show you to your cabin for now."

"Make it swanky," Ruffnut demanded.

"All the cabins are the same, so that none of those who come can complain of special treatment for others," the guard recited, leading them to a flight of stairs covered by a trapdoor. There were a few men hanging around near the rails of the ship, a few with decidedly unnerving looks to them. Von had never seen so much hair on a human before, or so little, and neither of those two were looking at her kindly.

Then they were below, and she replaced her unease with the humans with an unease with enclosed spaces. The guard led them past two dozen torches, deep into the bowels of the ship, and to a chunk of wood he promptly swung open, revealing a small wooden cave. "Your room, until Drago has time to meet with you."

"How long are we looking at waiting, here?" Ruffnut asked. "Two days? Two months?"

"It varies, but I think you will be bumped to the front of the line, so expect your leader to have an audience with him tonight," the guard said. He gave Von a look. She stared right back at him until he blinked and looked away. "I'll go give him the news now. Wait here."

O-O-O

The visitor ship was a place of tension, and Maour hated the thought of leaving Von alone there for an instant, locked cabin door protecting her or not. Half of the foreigners he had seen looked at her like she was a demon in their midst, and the other half was somehow worse, staring at her like they were seeing a big payday in their immediate future. If it weren't for Drago's guards, he'd have expected at least one attempt to capture her already, and he'd only seen a dozen men in the short walk between landing on the deck and the stairs down.

'I should be fine,' Von rumbled reassuringly. She had immediately claimed the only patch of floor big enough for her to curl up in, and made up a scale and saddle heap next to the narrow single bed. 'They seem serious about not attacking me here.'

"And they didn't try to put you in a cage, so that's a start," Ruffnut agreed. She had immediately claimed the bed itself as her territory, much like Von except more actively, tossing off her boots and splaying out on the lumpy surface. "We'll stay here, you go have your audience with the big guy. If you're not back by dawn, we'll rescue you."

"Or, hear me out," he retorted, "you two could fly off and wait in the air, not below deck in a ship filled with people who might try something the moment they work up the nerve."

'I spent all day and part of tonight flying, running, and then flying again,' Von said apologetically. 'And we do not know of anywhere safe to rest, with the Skrill possibly still out there and these guard dragons here. Would it be any safer to sleep on a sea stack? Because I will have to sleep somewhere. At least here if a fight starts there will be people on both sides, not just me against whoever finds me.'

Maour shook his head mutely; he didn't have a rejoinder for any of that. He just didn't like it.

'We will be fine,' Von assured him. 'Though I do think we should make a link, so we know if something goes wrong on your end.' That the link would also let him keep an eye on her situation went unsaid, though he definitely appreciated it. 'Just until we get Kappi back.'

"Hang on, I want a link if you're handing one out," Ruffnut objected.

'I would not give one to you, and that is entirely your fault,' Von said primly. 'So, Maour?'

"For now," he agreed, crouching by her head and extending a hand. The resulting headache was just as bad as he remembered it being, but at least it passed quickly.

'I am glad we practiced with those mice all that time ago,' Von rumbled as they recovered. She accessed his hearing enough to communicate with him over any distance, but nothing else. 'Otherwise, I would have had to practice on Ruffnut and then knock her out again.'

"Thorstons are not expendable," Ruffnut huffed. "And you know, now you have Maour keeping an eye on you, I don't have to stick around."

'Another reason for you to be glad I am staying here not going flying,' Von told Maour as he stood. 'With me here, you do not have to worry about Ruffnut sneaking off to explore and getting into trouble that will inevitably come to Drago's attention at exactly the wrong time.'

"Hey!" Ruffnut objected. "I'd get into trouble that causes the distraction he needs at exactly the right time, and you know it."

Maour looked between the two of them. "I wasn't going to worry about that," he said dryly, "but now I might. Thank you so much for that."

'I'll sit in front of the door,' Von purred. 'She's not getting out.'

"I'll find a way around you," Ruffnut proclaimed, standing on the bed and pointing dramatically. "For too long I have been stuck on your back, taken wherever you wish, subject to your tyrannical whims. In the name of all that is–"

There was a knock on the door, and Ruffnut paused. "That is… To be continued." She dropped down to sit on the bed, her legs dangling off the side. "Well? Get the door."

Maour went to the door and undid the sturdy latch. He opened the door a crack to see who it was, but it was just the same guard from before, so he let the door open the rest of the way.

"Drago will see you immediately," the man explained. "As I said, anyone with such valuable skills coming to speak with him is considered a high priority. If you would follow me."

"My companions will be here, unharmed, when I return?" Maour asked.

"Drago's word on it, and his word is as solid as steel," the man said easily, without missing a beat. "Though it would be best if your companions remained in their cabin, so as to not… provoke… the others on this ship."

"Provocation is such an ugly word for such a fun activity," Ruffnut mused loudly from within the room.

Hardly an instant after Maour closed the door and started walking away, a loud thump could be heard from within the room, followed by Ruffnut's muffled voice. "Alright, credit where due, you're faster than I thought. But you forgot the window–"

Another loud thump resounded from the room.

"Ow, your tail is bony! Hey, get your fat butt off of my mmm mmmf mmmm!"

"Yeah," Maour said as he walked away, studiously ignoring the noises, "they're staying inside. I'm not sure which would be in more danger if they left."

"The wrath of Drago would come down on anyone who came seeking his approval only to slay potential allies," the guard said gravely as he led Maour back up onto the deck. "That is something to be feared, no matter who you are. Their hands are firmly tied, whether they like it or not. Most do not even have a way off the armada should they wish to leave, not until we put in at another island.'

A pair of fairly typical Vikings, one missing an eye and one missing his entire nose, glared at Maour and his guard as they waited for a gangplank to be lowered from the next ship over, a metal thing with railings and circular holes in the deck at regular intervals that had him intensely curious.

"Ask if you have any questions," the guard remarked as the gangplank thumped down to the deck, "but I may be unable to answer directly until you sign on with the armada in some fashion. A lot of what we have here is the product of years of work with those like yourself, except with knowledge pertaining to making things, not dragons. You will see things here that do not exist anywhere else, and we are not in the business of explaining what is dearly paid for."

"Trade secrets, got it," Maour confirmed. "I'll keep my curiosity to myself." He wasn't here for the innovation, as much as he would have been all over it under other circumstances. He was here to get Toothless back, however indirectly. If that meant working with this warlord who was looking more and more interesting with every revelation, then that was what he needed to do. Not geeking out over advanced crossbows, ships made of metal that seemed entirely as capable as their more vulnerable wooden counterparts, and who knew what else.

"We're here," the guard announced, stopping in front of a squat metal structure built into the deck of one of the ships. He had expected a much longer walk, to one of the absolutely massive ships that made up the middle of the armada.

"And…" Maour prompted.

"Go in," the guard instructed, pointing to the metal door built into the side of the metal cube. "Talk to Drago. That's it, there's nothing else to know."

"Right." Just talk to Drago. That was all. He didn't know why he felt so nervous… Except maybe because this was massively important and could go very, very bad very quickly. Also, he had no idea what to expect, and he hadn't bothered to ask the guard any of a number of useful questions. He turned back to the guard–

The door slammed open behind him.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Drago was not a man who could blend into a crowd at will. His face was hard and pocked with scars akin to those of a blacksmith's hands, little specks where sparks burned hot enough to leave marks, and his nose was a crooked hook that had clearly been broken several times. Long, coarse hair, black with streaks of grey, framed his weathered old face, shadowing it even in direct torchlight. Even though he always stooped, he still stood a head above most men, with a heavy woolen cloak draped across his form. The wicked bullhook gripped in one hand might have occasionally doubled as a walking staff considering how old he seemed to be, but it was clearly still a deadly weapon.

Even hidden in the shadows, Drago's eyes were piercing, and Maour had a hard time believing his advanced age would be a detriment if it came to a fight. Most Vikings didn't live long enough to be showing that much grey, and while a Viking might have attributed it to cowardice, the massive fleet Drago commanded said otherwise.

All of which Maour noticed in the moment, as he turned around to see the man himself standing in the doorway of the squat little metal cabin.

"Come." Drago's voice was as grating as his appearance, and brooked no argument. Maour tentatively followed him into the little metal hut, which held nothing more than an old wooden chair and a throne made of black stone. Drago took the throne, of course.

Maour made the conscious decision to not shut the door behind him as he entered, and he ran his hand across the chair before sitting down. He wasn't going to fall for a weirdly-timed ambush.

"You wear the scales of Night Furies," Drago said brusquely. "You bring one here. To my fleet. You are either very confident, or very foolish."

"One of those," Maour said vaguely. "I was told you offer bounties for useful knowledge."

"I do not wish to buy the secrets to controlling Night Furies, because there is no secret," Drago rumbled. "Yours will turn on you when you least expect it. They cannot be controlled."

"I wouldn't argue with any of that," Maour agreed. He didn't know what else to do with such a correct and yet incorrect statement. Drago was wrong and right for the wrong reasons.

'Is it strange that I like this human more because he believes us indomitable?' Von asked. 'It makes me feel slightly safer, knowing he does not want to try and capture me for himself.'

"So long as you know and can put it down when it betrays you," Drago said gravely. "It is your folly. Your mistake. A useful one, for the time being, but still a mistake."

"Let's just say I'm fully aware of what will come of what I have done, and ready to handle any consequences, and leave it at that," Maour offered.

"Are you?" Drago challenged, his hard grey eyes glinting in the torchlight as he leaned forward from his throne, looking down at Maour. "They are wild things, the most wild of them all. They are brutally clever, enough to feign submission and then destroy everything when the mood strikes. Only a very foolish or naive man tries to chain the lightning to his will. "

'Okay, I like him less now,' Von muttered in the back of Maour's head.

"Be that as it may," Maour ventured, "I am not here solely to sell knowledge you do not want anyway." Not that he had any to sell, but if Drago didn't want it there was no harm in pretending he did. "The ice nest. The Skrill who live there have taken something of mine, someone of mine, and I have reason to believe he still lives. I want him back."

"The Terrors that ravage these parts take no prisoners," Drago said gruffly. "Your missing person is almost certainly dead."

"Then I want to recover his body," Maour shot back, "and that means getting into the ice nest. I cannot do it on my own. You are the only one who is fighting them with any success."

"That," Drago said darkly, "is true. They ravage, they destroy, they widen their territory. An enigma flies with them, a creature of human shape and unknown means. The mind behind their attacks is clever, knowledgeable. I am the only one capable of repelling their advances."

Maour wasn't particularly surprised to hear about another dragon rider, or something like it, but only because he had already heard rumors that Drago believed it to be so. "So you have plans to attack their nest?" he asked hopefully.

"Soon," Drago confirmed. "My fleet reaches its peak strength, my bounties reap the talent of the area. We will harry them for a few weeks more, then strike out for their nest. It is time. You would sail with us, if you had your way."

"I would," Maour agreed.

"And what would you give in repayment?" Drago demanded. "I want none of your foolish knowledge, and I take no worthless passengers. Your mistake is yours to deal with, and it may betray you at any time. Simply taking you along is already a risk for no reward."

Maour didn't immediately have an answer for that, though it seemed Drago wasn't expecting one anyway, given how he leaned back in his throne and waited.

'He wants something from us in exchange for letting us come along when he attacks the nest?' Von asked. 'What can we give? What would we be willing to give that he would want? Ruffnut is saying Skrill… What about Skrill?'

"Night Furies are the natural enemy of Skrill," Maour said, inspiration striking. "They will come for us the moment they know we are here. We cannot deal with two or more, but in the haze of a fight, we can dispatch one. I am sure that would be of use to you."

"If true, maybe," Drago growled. "It would be of some value. I would have you sail with my fleet from now on. You would do as I asked, work with my men and aid in repelling the Terrors when they come for the next few islands. I would have specific tasks for you and your folly, tasks you would need to at least attempt. Should you persevere and do as I ask until it is time for the attack, I will permit you to be there. You and your folly." Left unsaid was that if they did not come to a deal, Drago would not allow a Night Fury anywhere near his fleet, but Maour definitely got the message.

"You want us in your army until the attack," Maour summarized. "If I could be sure you would only give orders I would not object to, I would agree. What sort of thing would you require of us?"

'Why are you talking like him?' Von asked.

"It's contagious," Maour muttered, embarrassed despite the tense situation. There was something about the stilted, formal way Drago talked that made him feel like he would be insulting the man to not reply in the same manner, and Drago was not someone Maour wanted to insult.

"You would do nothing I do not have my other men do," Drago said, oblivious to the commentary only Maour could hear. "Fighting the Terrors when they come. Striking at specific targets within those attacks. The only things I would ask of you would be related to weakening the enemy, and preparing for the attack on the ice nest. You would also be able to say no and walk away at any time, though I would have my men shoot on sight if you came back for the assault on the nest."

"So long as you won't fire on us the moment I choose to go back on our deal," Maour said warily.

"I want no part in your beast going berserk," Drago said stiffly. "You will be allowed to leave, but never to come back."

'This sounds tolerable,' Von murmured. 'Ruffnut says go for it.'

"Then we have a deal," Maour agreed. He stood and offered his hand, to shake on it, but Drago looked at him as if he was holding out a dead fish.

"It is agreed," Drago intoned instead. "You will keep the room you were given in the visitor ship, and I will have a suitable cage attached to the deck."

"You can skip the cage," Maour said forcefully. "The room is enough."

Drago stared at him in silence for an awkwardly long time, but Maour stood there and let him stare. He didn't think justifying himself would end well; this was non-negotiable. Arguing about it would imply there was an argument to be had.

"Keep it from striking at my men or sinking my ships, and I don't care what you do with it," Drago agreed. "Now get out."

O-O-O

The rest of the night was spent in the cabin they had been given, trying to sleep. Von, for one, didn't get any sleep despite knowing that they were, at least in theory, now a part of the crew. Or the larger fleet, she didn't think she was going to be adjusting sails or swabbing decks anytime soon.

That didn't stop her from worrying about random men bursting into their room and throwing spears, or stabbing with swords. It might have been irrational, but her nerves didn't care about rationality.

Or maybe it was just the boat, rocking back and forth without end, that had her on edge. Or how they were stuck in a little wooden cave with a flickering torch, a fire hazard waiting to happen. Or all of that rolled into a tight ball of anxiety…

Whatever the reason, she elected to sit up all night on watch. Ruffnut and Maour managed to sleep, though she suspected it was hard for them, too. She watched the door, and occasionally experimented with Maour's senses.

It was odd, finally having a link with a human. She had never tried it before. On a mouse long ago, sure, but never on a human. Maour and Toothless never broke their link on purpose, so she couldn't have tried it out with him before now… Maybe if she had asked, but it hadn't seemed important.

Now, though... She wished they had Toothless back, more than anything, but until they could rescue him, this was interesting. Having a second set of senses was a great distraction. Everything was quieter and softer to Maour's senses. He could hear some things, but not everything. Some sounds were completely absent for him, where she heard them clearly. It was intriguing.

One sound she heard clearly through both sets of ears, on the other paw, was the creak as Ruffnut got up from the bed – which she had claimed by merit of marking it with her boots until Maour didn't want it anymore – and took a step toward the door.

Von cracked open an eye and shot her a withering look. 'Where do you think you are going?' she asked.

"Same place you'll be going once you get over your paranoia," Ruffnut whispered. "To find the outhouse!"

Von wasn't entirely sure she believed it, but she shifted her tail aside to let Ruffnut at the door anyway. There was no way to win this particular argument; either she let Ruffnut go, or she held Ruffnut in until she did something truly vile to prove her need was real. That was something Von would much rather avoid altogether.

Ruffnut closed the door behind herself. Not two heartbeats later, horns began to sound all over the fleet.

'Ruffnut!' Von barked angrily.

"I didn't even do anything!" Ruffnut yelled from the other side of the door.

An explosion echoed outside, audible even from where Von sat. Many pairs of feet thumped in the hallway outside their cabin, Ruffnut being presumably one of them.

"Wha… Where's Ruffnut?" Maour asked sleepily. Von felt vindicated that she wasn't the only one who had immediately leaped to their tag-along troublemaker being the cause of the commotion.

'Either going to relieve herself or joining the fight,' Von huffed. 'Whatever it is.'

O-O-O

"Just like old times," Ruffnut muttered to herself. She stood on the deck of their dinky little wooden ship, staring out at the reason the horns had begun blaring. It was still dark out, but the approaching dragon horde – they called it a Terror, but that just made her think of Terrible Terrors so it was clearly a stupid name – made up a black cloud against the backdrop of distant icebergs.

Maour and Von emerged from below deck, and she quietly slipped across one of the gangplanks, hidden by the crowd. She didn't feel like being told to stay out of the fighting, and they couldn't complain about her doing otherwise if they never delivered the message. It would be hypocritical of them anyway; they were going to fight.

The swirling swarm of dragons – Swarm, that would have been a better name – was drawing closer, and many of them were kindling fire in their maws, sparks of light in the dark. Ruffnut could see an impressive amount of ballistae and other, more exotic weaponry being brought to bear on the threat, so she would guess that the dragons stupid enough to give away their exact positions were about to get an unpleasant surprise.

Maour and Von might be bothered by that, ballistae bolts were almost certainly lethal, and it wasn't like any dragon hit would land on solid ground, but Ruffnut didn't really care. She liked dragons, but she also liked humans, and she would happily beat one of either group over the head if they were attacking her. This was a war, people on both sides were going to die, and from what she had seen, the humans were in the right, defending themselves.

It was a lot like back on Berk. There might even be a mountain-sized dragon behind it all. She hoped there was; she hadn't gotten to help kill the last one, and participating this time would give her something to rub in everyone's faces for the rest of her life.

The dragon swarm opened fire from above, far above. Some of the flames dispersed before getting anywhere close, but the more lava-like blasts from Gronckles hit hard, blasting some of the metal ships. Catapults and other devices returned fire, striking down a handful of dragons…

Ruffnut watched the opening volley, then made a beeline for the least impressive ship that was throwing things at the horde, a wooden thing moored on the outskirts of the fleet. The crew there was struggling to aim, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that desperate people didn't often reject a helping hand. Even if they really should have because that helping hand was actually a distraction… But this wasn't a time for pranks, so she was just going to help out.

She hopped the gap between the last metal ship and the wooden ship in question, landing with a dramatic roll that none of the sailors noticed. There were four of them, busily arguing over which way they were supposed to load the net-launcher they clearly had no idea how to work.

She didn't know which way it went either, but she had something to contribute nonetheless. "It doesn't matter how you put it in if you've cut it in half trying to stuff it in wrong already," she yelled, shoving a weedy guy aside to pull at the net and reveal where it had been cut by the sharp edges of unsmoothed metal that made up the net launcher. "Shoddy craftsmanship, right there." Maour's stuff was always smooth and dull on any edges that weren't meant to be a health hazard.

"Oh…" the big man holding the net said mournfully. He was painfully slow in pulling it away, but the other three at least were quick about picking up another one and trying to figure out how to load it without shoving it in. She had half expected them to make the same mistake a few more times before figuring it out, even with her telling them outright.

"You one of the big boss's people?" A fifth man came down from the mast, dropping onto the deck from above. A blast in the air out over the fleet lit him from behind.

Ruffnut took a moment out of her busy night to admire his rippling, roguish form, wind pushing through his vest and exposing his well-toned chest. More than a moment, maybe two or three. Only the arguing behind her spoiled the sight.

"Yes, and he sent me to deal with you lot," she lied shamelessly. "I'll be with you for at least a few days." If she had to fight alongside all of these foreigners, she wanted to fight with this one.

"Then show my crew how to use the net launcher before the attack ends!" the man, presumably the captain, said irritably.

"Of course, I was just waiting to see if they could figure it out themselves," she blustered, turning around. "You! Pick up one end. You! Fold it into a nice package, leave the weights on the outside. Then put it in so it will spin and unravel in the air. It's not that hard!" Or, it wasn't hard if that was how it actually worked. For all she knew, that wasn't it at all.

They didn't know she was guessing. One held the partially unraveled net up, one awkwardly folded it, and the third held all the metal weights in his hands while they worked. They had to reach past each other a few times, and almost ended up tangling the third guy's hands in the net, but they managed to fold it into something vaguely like what she had demanded. Then it was stuffed into the launcher, weights first, and the mechanisms all clicked and whirred and it was pulled down into the thing.

Nothing immediately exploded, so Ruffnut assumed she hadn't guessed entirely incorrectly. "Now aim it in front of where the dragons will be," she instructed, bluffing frantically. "You do know how to aim, I assume."

The weedy one shoved at the burly guy until he moved, then took over aiming the contraption. "Aye, I'm a great shot," he said confidently. "What's the range?"

"Twice that of a normal net-launcher," she guessed. It looked bigger than the ones she had seen before, though she had only seen one or two up close… It was fancy and Von said Maour heard that Drago hired the smart guys who made fancier things, so she was sure it was better than a normal one.

"Hurry up," the hunky captain said. "Drago told me these attacks are fast, they fire on the fleet and then retreat before our side's dragons can be brought up, and there's already one up, they have to be about to leave."

"Can't get a clean shot," the weedy guy complained.

Ruffnut tore her eyes from the ship's captain for a moment and took in the changing face of the battle. She didn't have a great view from this crappy little wooden ship, but she could see the bulk of the dragons. The ones with heavy fire were still intermittently raining it on the larger ships, some of the faster dragons were darting in – not darting back out, though, not always – and a few big shapes were hanging back, waiting.

A Night Fury was also darting through the fray, high above the ships. Von wasn't using her fire, probably because she didn't want to kill anyone, but she was chasing something, one of the bigger dragons. Presumably, she and Maour were trying to find the one leading the charge, or whatever. Something smart and strategic.

Ruffnut would settle for her bluffing netting her a position of authority over the hunk of man she had run into, and for that, she needed the weedy guy to hit something. "Just fire, the longer you wait the less time we have to set up a second shot," she advised.

The weedy guy didn't respond, so she marched up to him and punched him in the shoulder. "Hey, I was talking to you!"

The net launcher fired right into the mass of dragons swarming above. Ruffnut watched as it flew, spinning weirdly and only half unraveling as intended, and disappeared into the dark, confusing mass. A moment later, a spindly dragon with large wings fell from the sky, tangled in a very similar net.

"Was that mine?" the weedy guy asked.

"Yes, it was, don't let anyone claim otherwise," Ruffnut said confidently.

"Bort, Saldam, go retrieve our catch!" the hunky captain ordered. "It landed on the ships, go!" The two big men whose names Ruffnut now knew hurried to toss ropes and haul themselves up the side of the metal ship.

"So," Ruffnut said smoothly, turning to the captain, "what do you plan to do with it?"

"I know the deal I made, don't you worry," the captain assured her. "It goes to Drago, like any dragon we catch. Thanks for the assist. You said you're here from Drago?"

"He wanted someone to help you learn a few ropes, but don't expect too much help," Ruffnut said, her hands on her hips. "He's a believer in learning by failing. And doing. But mostly failing. So I'm here to give the occasional order and watch you learn, nothing more." Hopefully, that would convince him that she wasn't giving better advice out of callous indifference, not ignorance.

The captain grimaced at that. "Can't say I like it, but if that's what we signed up for, then so be it. What's your name?"

"What's yours?" Ruffnut shot back. "He didn't tell me, just told me to go look after the new guys in the dinky little ship."

"My ship is fast and resilient," the captain retorted. "I am Eret, son of Eret, expert dragon trapper!"

The name Eret rang a bell… Or maybe that was the actual bell ringing somewhere in the fleet. "Eh, whatever," she said. "I'm Ruffnut."

The dragons above began to fly away, having accomplished little except harrying the fleet and maybe damaging a few ships. Ruffnut noticed Von following them, a few of the armored dragons of the fleet flying with her, but a concentrated attack from the retreating dragons drove even her back.

She and Maour were going to be in a bad mood, Ruffnut could already tell. She was in no hurry to catch up with them. "So, Eret," she said slyly, "Why don't you show me around your ship?'"

O-O-O

Toothless didn't know exactly what was happening, but he knew something was going on. A dragon, one of the many of the nest, had flown in in a tizzy and dropped down right onto the King's massive head, something no dragon did unless one counted the fledglings. Moments later, the King started waving his tusks around, and three of the Skrill were flying toward him, along with a good portion of the nest's inhabitants.

Toothless didn't hear anything, though he was listening closely. The King wasn't in the habit of blaring his orders to everyone at once, it seemed; he was certainly speaking to the dragons clustered around him, but he could not be heard from the prison.

'I take it this is not normal,' Toothless remarked to Grey. She was watching through his eyes, of course.

'No, not at all,' Grey said slowly. 'Even Star and Hefnd are interested.'

Toothless glanced to the side and saw what he had only barely noticed out of the corner of his eye prior to Grey bringing it up; both Furies were looking out at the nest. Usually, they ignored anything going on outside of where they themselves could go.

Three Skrill flew off, out of the nest. A short while later, many of the other kinds of dragons flew out, presumably off to do whatever it was the Skrill were doing. None of them came back for a long while, and when they did return it was mostly piecemeal, one or two dragons at a time. The nest stirred with restless energy, but nobody seemed all that worried… It was an intriguing puzzle.

But there was only so much watching a mostly happy society that Toothless could take, so he eventually turned away from the spectacle and began thinking about food. It wasn't that much happier a topic, given his rumination was on the lack of food, but it was slightly better.

They weren't being given enough fish. One small meal per day was barely enough to keep them alive. He could always feel some level of hunger now, and he doubted he would ever really get used to it. The longer he subsisted on what the Skrill gave out, the less capable he would be of doing anything physically demanding.

It was not a definite deadline, he would never become totally incapable of doing anything; Hefnd was an example of what long-term deprivation would do, and while it was horrible, it wasn't impossibly debilitating. The other male moved little and was far more growl than bite, but he was probably still capable of running and fighting in short bursts.

Still, it meant that the longer Toothless waited, the harder it would be to implement an escape plan. He couldn't linger forever, not when he had no idea what was going on with his siblings. They might not even know where he was, even now. Or they might have gotten the wrong idea and flown off somewhere totally different in search of him. As much as he would like to, he couldn't rely on them. He couldn't even coordinate with them.

His stomach rumbled forlornly, and he did his best to ignore it. Their daily meal was late. Whichever Skrill had been tasked with getting it – Tolerable was sitting on watch, so it wasn't him – they weren't being quick about it. If it was a Skrill at all; for all he knew, some random luckless Nadder was stuck fishing for them every day, and the Skrill just picked up the results.

A Skrill entered the ice nest from the hole in the top, clutching grey things in its massive talons, leaving the question unanswered. He flew directly to the prison and circled Tolerable on his perch.

'This one was sneaky, we still have not found it,' Sadistic snarled loudly enough that Toothless could hear him. 'Half the nest is looking, and half of those are only doing the bare minimum. We'll never catch it unless it's stupid enough to come back for another shot.'

'You watch them, I will check all the ice closest to us,' Tolerable grumbled, shaking out his wings. Little bolts of lightning leapt from him to Sadistic as the other Skrill closed in on a second pass. 'Maybe it is being clever and hiding where it thinks we will not look.'

'It was carrying two humans, it cannot be clever,' Sadistic huffed. Tolerable left the perch with a heavy flap, and he immediately claimed it for himself, crushing the fish against the ice as he landed. Toothless hoped none of the fish had been too badly pulped by the impact; that was their food he was damaging, and he definitely wouldn't listen if someone complained.

Then 'carrying two humans' came back to the front of his mind, and he resisted the urge to knock his head against a wall for caring more about fish than that piece of news. Von, Maour, and Ruffnut, it had to be. They were here, but they were hiding and being hunted by half the nest… And there was nothing he could do about it. Worse still, he hadn't finished planning an escape yet; he had barely even started!

'I hope they get away,' Grey murmured.

'They had better,' he agreed, mindful of the need to pretend, at least outwardly, that he had no idea who that was. The Skrill knew about Von now, but if they knew he knew her, they might start asking questions he couldn't safely answer.

Sadistic leaped down from his perch, landing on the bare stone and dirt of their enclosure with a heavy thud. He hadn't even tried to slow his fall. Toothless heard a frustrated sigh from one of the other Furies as he gave them an evil look and flicked his talons to spray smashed bits of fish in their general direction.

'Oh, look at that,' he growled, scraping his talons clean of the nearly inedible mess he had made of all their food. Fish guts and scales smeared through the dirt. He made eye contact with Hefnd, who looked away, and then Star, who stared back for a moment before shaking her head. 'Usurpers have bad luck today. Too bad for all of you.'

It was a casual sort of cruelty, and his very name suggested Toothless would be wise not to push the issue, but when Sadistic turned to stare challengingly at him, he glared right back. 'We still need to eat,' he said.

'Then eat,' Sadistic retorted, gesturing to the smeared mess he had made of a dozen fish. Maybe less than a dozen; it looked like he had left one or two up on the icy perch. 'It's still there.'

He flew up to his perch and settled down there, watching them with an evil eye and a constant crackle of lightning playing out over his body.

Toothless ventured over to the mess and poked at a bit of it with his claw. Sadistic had touched down hard, the fish was thoroughly flattened. From the scales and flesh, to the bones, it was all broken and smeared into the dirt. He tried flipping the mess over, but that just revealed a patch of the underside, where the dirt was visibly ground in.

It was still food, but not the sort of food he wanted to eat. He didn't have much of a choice, though.

'Divide it equally,' Hefnd huffed from behind him. 'We are not giving you our portions just because it looks bad.'

'I didn't expect you to.' He withheld a mean-spirited remark about how skinny the other male was; he would be in the same situation sooner or later.

Grey crept up beside him just as he finished dividing the dirty remnants into sad little piles. She didn't make any of her usual jokes, and instead of eating out in the open, she took her fish back to her caves. There was a generally depressed atmosphere hanging over them all like a fog, and Toothless knew why. Not only had they had their food ruined, it was possible that another Fury would be joining them soon. Even Star seemed bothered by that idea, though she showed few signs of her unease.

'Want to talk about something?' Grey asked from her little hideaway.

'Sure.' He gritted his teeth, quickly swallowed his fish, ignored the itching in the back of his throat from the dirt, and retook his place in front of the ice wall. 'What?'

'I don't know…' Grey admitted.

Toothless didn't much feel like starting a conversation, but it was better than waiting for his sister to be dragged in with broken wings. Anything was better than dreading that for the rest of the day.

Above, Sadistic's baleful gaze watched over them all.

O-O-O

Toothless would never claim he had gotten used to sleeping in an icy pit, but he was learning how to tolerate it. That meant napping and waking every so often to use more of his fire, but it was better than shivering all night and getting no sleep. But on this particular night, sleep might have been hard to come by regardless of where he was sleeping. Von hadn't been caught, but the search hadn't been called off, either. That was definitely something to worry about, and he wasn't having much luck drifting off.

As such, it was mostly a general sense of unease that had him awake to notice something odd. A Skrill was pacing around the top of their cells, which was normal. Said Skrill flying up before dipping into one of the cells and extracting a Night Fury, on the other paw, was not. It was Star who was taken. He couldn't see which direction the Skrill flew off in, and he had no idea where they were going… But it didn't seem like anything good could possibly be happening.

He considered trying to wake Grey, but she was on the other side of several thick walls of ice, and the link wouldn't help. Anything he did loud enough to wake her would also alert any Skrill lurking around. It would be stupid to assume the one that had taken Star was the only one on watch.

Star was not returned for what felt like a very long time, though he had trouble knowing for certain. Not the entire night, but a good portion of it. He couldn't see her well enough to see if anything was different about her. When she was put back, she flamed the ground, curled up, and seemingly went back to sleep.

At around the same time, there was a stirring out in the nest, a frenzied collection of wingbeats, roars, and other noises that lasted for a while before fading away. Toothless felt his chest seize up with pure dread, but nothing came of it. No new Night Fury was dropped into a pit near him.

Either Von had not been caught, or she had been caught and killed in defiance of what he had come to understand was simply the King's desire to assert dominance over those he saw as threats. A desire enforced on the Skrill…

It was a small, mostly useless revelation, but a revelation nonetheless. The King could give orders. Skrill always attacked and killed Night Furies. The King wanted to make himself feel powerful, and that, to him, meant keeping his enemies captive. So he had given an unbreakable order, to capture and not kill. Maybe even to not risk killing. They wanted to kill, but they couldn't.

He could maybe exploit that… Einfari or Heather would have come up with a way to use it in an instant. It would probably take him a lot longer… He had nothing but free time.

O-O-O

'Oh, that?' Grey hummed thoughtfully as she wormed her way into her usual spot. For some reason, she was very reluctant to sit out in the open, even when Toothless suggested she could sit with him, for warmth. He didn't want to press the issue, even though he knew she was cold enough in there that she preferred feeling his body instead of her own.

'It happens often?' Toothless murmured, discreetly looking at Star as she dunked her head in the pond. Her body was still almost entirely unmarked, and he didn't see any open wounds. She still looked to be the least worn of all of them. Even her wings looked better than the rest, only slightly crooked. None of that had changed.

'Every so often, yes,' Grey confirmed. 'Sadistic is the one to take her. I do not know, and she does not answer if asked, but I think she has made some sort of deal with him. No scars, in exchange for being hurt in other ways.'

'That's horrible.' Star looked his way, so he looked away before she noticed his staring. He didn't even want to think about what shape that sort of deal might take–

'At least she has her morals and sticks to them,' Grey pointed out. 'Hide before health. Or maybe "scales are better than scars." Something like that.'

'Let's talk about something else,' Toothless huffed. He wasn't sure he minded Grey making jokes at Star's expense, not after her doing exactly the same to Grey in a much more humiliating way, but it still made him uncomfortable. He might not like Star, but she was a victim, just like the rest of the Night Furies here. Sniping back and forth and putting each other down was just making it that much harder to do anything worthwhile in this place. They really should all support and help each other, but that just wasn't happening.

'A common enemy does not count if nobody feels like they can do anything about it,' he said to himself. It felt right. Well, it felt correct, not right. He certainly didn't approve.

'Here's another one,' Grey offered. 'No news is good news.' Right? Because everyone is back, and Sadistic has not come to rub it in our faces that they caught another one of us to stick in here, or that they killed one. That means they failed, right?'

'For now, yes,' he agreed. He could see the human scuttering around on all fours, wrapping limbs and poking at wings under the watchful eye of its four-winged… owner. Companion. However that worked here. Either his siblings – and Ruffnut – had put up a fight, or the searching dragons had run into someone else who had. Either was good, he supposed.

'Not like they would come back,' Grey said, a touch bitterly. 'They can just fly away.'

'We can't count on them to get us out,' he agreed. Von, Maour and Ruffnut were horribly outmatched. They wouldn't just fly in, even though he now knew for sure that they knew where he was being held. They would lurk around, trying to figure out a sneaky way in. Maour would be building him another tailfin, maybe procuring a ship to try and brave the ice field in… If it was passable on ship. He had only briefly seen it from above, he didn't know.

They were out there. He just had to get himself and Grey out of the nest, across the ice fields, and in the air, somehow. Or, if he was lucky, they could scrap that last, hardest part and just do the first two. Maour might find them if they got all the way to the edge and waited there. Or they might die in any number of ways. Starvation, dehydration, injury, freezing to death. All while hiding from the Skrill.

It was a difficult set of tasks to tackle, but he had to at least start making plans. He knew how many Skrill there were, vaguely how they spent their time, who they reported to, and what restrictions they were working under. He also knew his siblings were in the area, and he could count on Maour to think of some way to get close. He had to do his part.

Maour could get them away without needing to fix Grey's wings, he didn't know about Grey but he would be planning for the possibility that Toothless would be coming out with Einn. So all Toothless had to do was get Grey to him. Get out of the ice nest and look for him.

It was all starting to come together… somewhat. He didn't think he would be spending much longer in this wretched place.

Author's Note : We'll be skipping one cycle of posting; this is the busiest time of the year for a college student (me), and I'm going into the final stage of finishing rewriting my other currently-running story, thus running myself a bit ragged. So, tune in on April 15th for this story to continue!

UPDATE: Well, that was optimistic. The advent of end-of semester 12+ hour college days has come to smash my aspirations into the dirt. Let's say that this story will update again before May 20th; hopefully much before, but I make no promises. I quite literally don't have the time to write right now, or, at least I don't have time to write much that's not related to lignin, the delamination of composites, fish scales, or three-point bending tests.

Chapter Text

Author's Note:  It's been a while. Suffice to say that real life has been kicking in, summer or not, and having put this story on hold anyway, I found it easiest to just leave it on hold for a while longer than intended. But now that the semester is long since over with,  Usurpation of the Darkness  is finished, and everything else taking up my time is either done with or under control (looking at you, struggle to find somewhere to live next semester), it's time to resume this story. We're only about halfway through; by my calculations there are nineteen chapters left, counting this one. So on with the story!

(Also, we'll be returning to the bi-monthly posting schedule for the time being.)

Five Skrill. A nest full of dragons Toothless couldn't trust. An ice field and an ocean between enemy territory and anywhere else. No automatic tailfin, no manual tailfin to be operated by Maour… No Maour, though he might very well be out there. No reliable help from outside, and any help from inside would have to come from one of four Night Furies, all of which were grounded and only one of which he felt even remotely comfortable trusting with his safety in any way, shape or form.

It was a daunting challenge made impossible to approach by pure scope. To escape wasn't enough, he needed to escape and find his way to somewhere he could survive until rescue came and he needed to do it while grounded and while being hunted down by Skrill…

Given a day to work it out, he would have proclaimed the situation impossible. Given two days, he would have thought about it and come up with nothing useful.

He had been in this terrible place for much longer, and he had the bare outlines of a plan, one that at least tried to address all the problems inherent in such a complicated breakout. The plan wasn't fully developed, it wasn't foolproof by any means, and it wasn't safe. It ended in uncertainty; the final obstacle, their inability to fly coupled with the inhospitable ocean, still stymied him.

But he didn't have to solve that last problem. Not if he was willing to take a risk. He knew Maour, Von, and Ruffnut were out there, somewhere. He knew they would be coming for him. They weren't expecting Grey, but they were expecting a crippled Night Fury to maybe be with him. He wasn't taking Einn with him, but they would prepare for Einn, and Grey could use whatever clever solution Maour came up with just as easily.

Thus, there were three stages to the escape. To escape the enclosure, to escape the nest, and to escape the ice field. Maour would have the last one covered, if Toothless could get himself and Grey to the edge of the ice field and somehow hide there until Maour next came by.

That was by no means a certainty, it would be hard and difficult, but not life-threatening. The one saving grace of all of this was that none of it would end in death, so far as Toothless knew. If the Skrill caught him or Grey, they would just dump them back here, where he currently sat in an icy cell that stank of old urine and salt, awaiting dawn.

Going by Einn's example, there wouldn't be that much retribution if they were caught, either. It was by no means a desirable outcome, but he was well aware that he was not being forced to either escape or die trying. That meant some small risks and improvisation could be tolerated. The potential reward was well worth it.

He shifted his paws, the numb coldness of the bottom of his pit seeping into every part of his body. It was worse than usual on this particular night, but he resisted the temptation to warm himself with his fire. According to Grey, this was probably the night they could put their plan into action, and he would need every bit of fire he had.

He felt fairly confident in Grey's ability to predict the movements of the Skrill; she knew what was at stake, however effectively she hid her comprehension behind quips and jokes. He hadn't been able to get a straight answer from her about how she felt about coming along on his escape attempt, but she had never raised the slightest objection to his plans.

And it was not as if she was guessing without risking anything herself, either; she was awake and refraining from using her fire, just like him. If she was wrong, they would both be sleep-deprived and miserable in the morning. If she was right…

Well, if she was right, they were still going to be sleep-deprived and miserable come daybreak. He was just hoping to add 'free' to that list.

A shadow passed above his pit, and he watched as Sadistic, the Skrill on guard tonight, moved toward one particular pit. Just as he himself had witnessed only a few days ago, and as Grey had predicted.

'Every time he is on guard alone,' Grey said quietly, watching through his eyes as Sadistic leaped down into Star's pit. 'He will be gone for most of the night.'

'Right.' Toothless felt vaguely bad about basing his escape plan on this particular occurrence, as it amounted to him using Star as a distraction for Sadistic. But it was going to happen anyway, so it was not as if he was the one doing it. And the sooner he could get away, the sooner he could bring overwhelming firepower back to free Star and the other and melt this whole place back into the sea.

Somehow. The King might get in the way of that. But planning their counterattack was for later, when he was reunited with Maour and ideally Einfari and her family, too. Not now, while he was watching the sole Skrill responsible for guarding the pits fly away.

Sadistic was gone, and whatever he was doing with Star, it was something he didn't openly tell the other Skrill about, so he hadn't asked one of them to cover for him. That meant that there was absolutely nobody around to see or stop Toothless from doing what he did next.

One paw went to the icy wall of the pit in front of him, at eye level. He dug his claws in, feeling the unique sensation of ice both melting and cracking as he pressed in, and crouched.

His body was malnourished and he was out of practice when it came to anything physical, but it did not take practice or particularly clever moves to spring up, pushing with his paw, and scrabble out of the pit. Scales scraped on ice and he could have done it a lot more quietly had he taken his time and gone delicately, but he was out. It was a small thing, but every beginning was small.

He and Grey were escaping tonight. They were going to get out of the nest, flee on paw to the edge of the ice field, and hunker down until Maour and the others came around again.

There was a similar scrabbling sound from Grey's pit, only different in that the scraping of scales on ice was replaced with a smoother noise and a muffled yelp. She barely made it, her front paws trembling as she lifted herself out, but by the time he leaped over to help she had gotten over the ledge and was pulling herself the rest of the way.

'I have ice where ice should never be,' she hissed, hopping in place and shaking her tail. There was an excited, almost frenzied look in her eye, something to the way she moved…

He had bigger things to worry about than her enthusiasm for the escape. They had yet to so much as escape the larger enclosure.

It would not be as simple as going to the back of the icy pocket their cells rested in and flaming out, either. The timing wasn't right for that; the King had refrosted that part of the nest only two days ago, so it would be close to the thickest side. No, they were headed to the Western edge of the Nest, almost straight across the middle from where they were if they could fly.

He hopped over one of the other pits, skidding a bit as he landed on the ice, and made awkwardly for the place where their ice plateau steeply and suddenly dropped down to the half-circle stone outcrop they spent their days on. Grey followed along behind, her claws scraping and clicking in time with his own.

None of the other Furies woke, even though they had made quite a bit of noise. Toothless was ready to blame that on the cold environment and listless lethargy they all suffered from. He was almost thankful; one of the ways this escape could have gone wrong was Hefnd waking, noticing, and raising a fuss or tagging along and getting them caught. The plan was for two Furies, because two were what Maour was expecting… and because Toothless only trusted one of his fellow prisoners. Grey.

He reached the edge of the icy ledge and wasted no time in maneuvering himself around and dropping, sliding down the steep incline with his claws out, digging in to slow but not stop his descent. It was a fast, rough ride that ended with a tail-jarring impact onto solid stone, but it got him past what might otherwise have been a major obstacle to a flightless dragon trying to be sneaky.

Grey gamely tried to imitate him without any hesitation, stopping at the edge, looking down, and attempting to twist herself to slide down tail-first. Then her front paws slipped, her claws not catching, and she fell backwards.

Toothless had positioned himself under her, just in case, and he braced before she impacted his back upside-down, flailing wildly with all her limbs. He almost wished the impact had been worse; she was so light. So malnourished and lacking the proper weight. It was convenient here, but it wasn't healthy.

'I didn't make a sound,' Grey whispered as she shook herself. Her eyes were wide, and an amused, excited purr was resonating from her like distant thunder. 'That was easy!'

'Let's not celebrate yet,' Toothless admonished, neglecting to mention that however light she might be to him, had he not caught her she would probably have broken something in the fall. They'd already made one mistake in this escape attempt, and they were both lucky it hadn't ended up hurting anything.

Having made it down into their only slightly larger, daylight prison, Toothless went straight for the waste pit over in the far corner. For reasons of basic sanity – and likely the Skrill not wanting to deal with anything more than the absolute minimum of cleanup – it was dug down into the ground, partially in rock and partially in ice. Off to the side, beyond the icy wall, a few rock ledges began, the far side of the actual nest beyond the little corner the Skrill controlled. Nobody slept there; they were high up, cold, and far from everything of interest to the average dragon. Not to mention anyone sleeping there had a clear view of the aforementioned waste pit.

However, said ledges were also physically connected to the rest of the nest, traversable on paw, and accessible if one could melt through a paw-thick pane of ice. Not possible in the day, not with Skrill watching their every move. Little more than another taunt leveled by the King, who had presumably shaped this place with the same ice breath that maintained it.

Now, though? With no watchful eyes ready to descend and stop them?

'Wings, like we talked about,' Toothless requested as he straddled the waste pit, ignoring the pungent scents assaulting his nostrils.

Grey came up beside him, perched on solid stone, and stuck a wing out to block the light he was about to emit. It wouldn't be seen from above, and to his other side an opaque ice wall would refract it and lose it among the many little things stuck in the ice.

He inhaled, feeling the fire he had been using regularly every night, and exhaled. A long, bright stream of heat carved into the ice in front of him. Unseen from above, from either side, or behind, visible only as a brief glint from the abandoned, chilly ledges on the other side of the ice wall, or as a dull glowing in the distance that nobody would care enough to investigate.

Risky, maybe, but necessary.

The ice melted and popped quietly, and Toothless was forced to crane his neck and twist himself around to cover a wide enough area to squeeze through without loudly breaking the edges of the hole. He used the equivalent of a single full-strength blast in a matter of moments to clear the way.

That wasn't promising at all. The plan hinged on them finding a way out on paw, and unless there were tunnels through the outer wall – extremely unlikely, as he'd never seen anyone using them in the days he spent watching the outside world – that meant melting a way through. He had to hope that his fire would be a lot more efficient when he was tasked with melting a hole into a wall, not through a thin one.

Water silently streamed down the ice wall as he finished with his fire, the hole still melting from the residual heat even after he closed his mouth, slowly growing wider still. He backed away from the waste pit and got a two-step runup before leaping through, landing carefully on the stone ledge outside.

He moved aside and carefully examined his surroundings, icy and rocky in equal parts. There were no Skrill descending on him like a pack of scavengers. No shrieked alarms from random ordinary dragons who had noticed and come to investigate. No earth-trembling movement from the King, who remained a stationary, silent island in the middle of the nest, hopefully oblivious.

'Out through the waste end,' Grey chirped, leaping through to land right by him. 'That makes us the indigestible bits.'

'Yes,' Toothless agreed, not really listening. From where they stood, they could circle around the inside wall of the ice mountain for the most part, sticking high and away from the desirable ledges and verdant greenery further down, but there was one spot two thirds of the way around that would force them to go much closer to sea level, and thus through more occupied areas.

The Skrill didn't sleep in any one place; as far as he knew, nobody did except the parents with their young. Cold, Condescending, Angry, Tolerable… They could be anywhere down there. Sleeping, unaware of what was creeping away from the captivity they maintained, but there all the same. He couldn't see any of them from where he stood, not for sure. Skrill and Monstrous Nightmares didn't look all that different when asleep, lacking any of the signature sparks or body-encompassing fire that usually differentiated them with ease.

'Are we stopping here?' Grey asked, padding around to stand in front of him and gawk at the nest laid out before them. 'It looks a lot more real without the ice in the way…' she said quietly. 'I forgot.'

He wanted to ask what, exactly, she had forgotten, but unless it was something about an easy secret passage out – which it obviously was not, she would be saying so if that were the case – they didn't have time to waste. 'Come on,' he rumbled for what felt like the third time since they had begun their escape. 'Walk behind me, walk quietly, and follow even if things get hectic.'

'I'll hold on to your tail,' she said as he loped ahead, though he noticed that she did no such thing. Grey joked and generally said stupid things a lot, but when it came to actually doing something important, she knew where to pack it in and be serious.

He was grateful for that, because he hadn't been sure until this very moment whether she would know to hold herself in check. There wasn't really a way to find out; they might have planned this, but planning and doing were two very different things.

And his thoughts were flying in circles. He wished he were flying; it would make reaching the far side of the ice mountain a quick, easy trip instead of the nerve-wrenching run ahead of them.

Instead, his paws beat a near-silent rhythm against the rocks and occasional icy slick as he ran along the long, rocky ledge. It reminded him of the sea stacks he was familiar with back home, a flat stone surface at the top of a bulky pillar, but in this case stretched out in one direction, curved to fit the interior of what was now a mountain. It was stable, frozen together where a sea stack might eventually crumble, and the gaps between sea-stack-esque stone platforms were pure ice, filled in.

Below, Gronckles napped in piles, Nadders slept standing upright, Zipplebacks lay twitching, sometimes with one head moving while the other lay still, dreaming or maybe even keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. Other dragons were there too, kinds he still didn't know except by description, but those he just had to guess about. The more familiar breeds he knew. He had shared a nest with their sorts before, he knew the quirks they tended to exhibit when sleeping.

The Gronckles would notice heavy vibrations in the stone under them, though he doubted he could do anything heavy enough to wake them. The Zipplebacks might keep two eyes open, though they seemed happy here, so they might not see the need. Nadders were always ready to wake in a heartbeat if anything woke them, flighty and prone to kicking or otherwise lashing out. Nightmares slept heavily, and Terrors tended to stick to small crevices where none could get them and thus none were likely to wake them.

All of which he had told Grey… and all of which he reminded himself as they reached the unleapable gap in their path and turned to work their way down. Into the populated ledges, where any false move might get them caught.

Icy-covered stone gave way to just normal stone, and then that to grass and a variety of ferns. They had to leap down from ledge to ledge to descend, landing with a soft crunch each time, the sound subtly different as the terrain changed, but no less nerve-wracking.

A duo of Zipplebacks, necks tangled together as they slept, posed the first challenge. Toothless crouched and looked down at the ledge they occupied, watching each head for as long as he dared. None of the four sets of eyes were open, and the way the necks were tangled meant they wouldn't be able to quickly move.

He dropped down, flattening himself against the grass. A tail twitched, but nothing moved beyond that. When Grey came down, that same tail twitched again; maybe a reflex, or maybe a groggy warning. They snuck around the two slumbering dragons and kept going, down another ledge. There were maybe a dozen individual levels on their descent to the shoreline.

The King rose above them as they carefully descended, a massive white bulk that could squash them like bugs if it chose. If it knew they were there to be squashed.

And so they went, creeping carefully, every movement a choice between expediency and risk. Grey followed perfectly, keeping behind him like a reluctant shadow, going so far as to step only where he did. She was not a problem; he couldn't have asked for a more cautious companion now that they were here and the reality of their escape seemed to be sinking in.

He did wonder whether her forceful cheeriness and humor would remain if – when – she was free. She could put it away if need be, this very journey was proving as much, but he didn't know if she had simply dropped the act of acting silly or if she was pushing herself to act serious; it would look the same to him.

They made it to the end of the ravine without incident, and began working their way up the other side as the night wore on. The only Skrill Toothless saw along the way was distant, a few ledges down and to the right of where he and Grey were, noticeable because they slept alone, with a wide empty space around them. His scales itched as he turned his back on their tormentor, but he did it anyway, and the Skrill did not leap up to attack him the moment he took his eyes off of them.

Sadistic had yet to return with Star; he had yet to see that three of the ice pits were empty, not one. The moment he did, everything would go wrong.

But it was looking like he would not make it in time to ruin the escape. Toothless and Grey made it back up to the highest stone ledges, unseen by all. There was no obvious border between old ice and new, but when they stood opposite the opaque wall, he was able to look behind himself and see their prison, meaning they were there.

It looked so small from here, across the nest. Just a walled-off bit of bare stone and ice, nothing of interest. Barely enough space to be worth wanting, with nothing there to make it desirable. Easily ignorable, if one didn't know what lay beyond the translucent sheet of ice. And if one did know, then one probably didn't have a choice in ignoring it.

He turned back to the ice wall and to his unusually solemn companion. 'Block the light, like before,' he reminded her. 'Here is as good as anywhere.'

'Won't we come out high above the water, though?' Grey asked in a small voice, hunching in on herself. Her earlier confidence was gone, and he suspected the seriousness of what they were doing had truly set in.

'I…' He hadn't thought of that. He should have thought of that. Maybe it was more obvious now, standing on a ledge high above the waterline, but still. 'I'll angle the tunnel downward, and we can slide the rest of the way on our claws, like we did before,' he answered, giving the first potential solution that came to mind.

'Okay.' Her wing went up, bent but still capable of hiding some of the light from what he was going to do, and he got to work.

It was a steady pattern, a rhythm he knew by heart. A heavy inhale, three beats of the heart, and then a slow exhale, as slow and measured as he could manage. To cough or spit or just let go would fire a blast, the heat was welling in his throat and chest, but that wasn't needed. A slow, small release of heat over time was what he wanted, and what he got.

This ice was not like the thin, fragile wall he had melted before; it had depth and was dark, seemingly endless. His fire carved into it, reducing solid ice into a heavy drizzle of water and some steam, creating a dent, and then a hole that he widened as quickly as he could.

His shot, his breath, ran out. He let it go, panting as he examined one blast's worth of tunneling.

It was pitiful, barely half the length of his body in depth, and with a paw-deep puddle of water at the end that would only grow deeper as he went. He had six shots left, and Grey had eight, but that would only get them seven more body lengths into the wall. He very much doubted it was as thin as that.

He continued to flame anyway, occasionally retreating to stir the air and fuel his fire before diving back in again. Doubts were well and good, but he wouldn't know this was a failure until he actually proved as much. There was no point in turning back, to giving up. He and Grey didn't have any other way out, they couldn't fly and there were no exits reachable on paw. It was through the wall or not at all.

He worked his way into the wall, expending his fire one long exhale at a time. It was cold, surrounded on all sides by ice so close it rubbed against him every time he twitched. The light from his flames reflected and refracted through the ice around him, revealing many small particles of dirt, sand, or other contaminants frozen in the ice. And presumably shining a light for any looking to see, but nobody was looking. Yet.

He spent the last of his fire trying to reduce the growing pool of water at the bottom of the tunnel to vapor, then backed out into the open with a cold chest and a growing headache of indeterminate origin.

'My turn,' Grey said, descending into the hole. 'Is this water supposed to be here?'

'Try to ignore it,' Toothless advised as he awkwardly held a wing out over the entrance to the tunnel. He was grateful for all of the particles and contaminants in the ice; from here he could see that while some light was reflecting out from Grey's fire, it wasn't as bright and obvious as he had thought it would be. Like a flame in a snowstorm, there but dimmed if seen from a distance.

The nest was quiet and still. The King had not moved, still a slumbering mountain. Toothless let out a sigh of relief; he had worried, if only for a moment, that he would look at that giant mountain of scale and malice and see those large eyes staring back at him.

But no, the irresistible ruler of this hollow mountain was asleep. For now.

He didn't like thinking about his time under the Queen, the six-eyed monstrosity that had ruled her dormant volcano with suffocating intensity, but his current situation was far too similar for him to not think about her. Where she ruled with an iron will and many, many commands designed to keep total control, this King was far more… relaxed. But both used their power for control, just in different ways.

He couldn't honestly say which was better, either. At least under the Queen everyone was equally trapped, aware of who the enemy was. Here, the majority of the King's subjects lived idyllic lives, but they did so at the expense of others. Maybe he was biased, but he didn't think that was any more tolerable or less terrible. Subjugation with a light paw was still subjugation so long as that light paw was only light because it did not need to be heavy.

A figure stirred in the distance, down on a lower ledge. Little sparks of bright light flashed on and off over the length of their body as they stood and stretched, and Toothless knew that their time to enact a sneaky escape was about to be up.

'Can you see the other side yet?' he hissed to Grey, watching closely as the Skrill flew up and around a bit before heading leisurely over to the false wall and the ice pits.

'No, just more ice, and I only have three shots left,' Grey reported. 'But maybe that will be enough.'

An enraged shriek split the cold, still night air, long and grating. Lightning flashed on the other side of the mountain's interior, bright but distant. For the moment.

'Time's up,' Toothless growled, backing into the tunnel tail-first. 'Keep flaming, I will tell you if they get close.' In an ideal world, Grey would break through to the outside with the last of her fire. It could still happen.

He really wanted it to happen. He didn't want to go back to being a prisoner, to whatever nonlethal punishment Sadistic and the others would devise. They were so close…

Dragons all over the mountain's interior were waking, dragged from their slumber by the shrieking cry of alarm. Toothless could see many of them even with the majority of his body in the tunnel, so long as he kept his eyes above the level of the ledge they had started on. He could see that most of the dragons who had woken weren't doing much other than milling about or rolling over and going back to sleep, which was… not the worst-case scenario, at least.

But the other Skrill, all three of them, rose to the air webbed in lightning. They met the first, the one who had sounded the alarm, in the air over the King. Sadistic was still nowhere to be seen, but that left four angry Skrill…

And one titanic white dragon, whose massive tusks moved once, twice, and then fell still again.

'I am out of fire, I am going to try ramming through,' Grey reported. A moment later, there was a dull thump and a splash from the bottom of the tunnel. 'I didn't get through,' she added. 'I can't tell if we are even close to the other side…'

The Skrill were splitting up now, and if the King had given them any orders, he hadn't bothered telling anyone other than them to do anything. Two went down to the lowermost ledges and began prowling around, one flew straight up and began circling inside the exit, and the fourth…

The fourth flew up to the highest set of ledges by the prison side of the mountain's interior and began prowling around on paw, lightning intermittently leaping out to strike everything around them as they walked. That was the one Toothless was worried about, because he – or she, if it was Condescending, he couldn't tell them apart at this distance – was going to walk right up to the tunnel entrance once they got over to this side of the cave.

'We need to leave here,' he said, making a snap decision. The tunnel was a dead end, literally and figuratively. 'Find some other way out.'

'There isn't another way,' Grey whined, coming up the tunnel to him. 'Maybe we should sneak back to the pits? Pretend we were there the whole time?'

'No–' he began, only to stop himself mid-denial. If such a blatant denial worked, it would spare them both a lot of potential pain. Who was he to force Grey to keep following him, when he didn't even know what else he would do?

If it worked. Which it wouldn't. The Skrill wouldn't believe them over one of their own, and there was a Fury-sized hole in the wall that wouldn't go unnoticed once someone looked more closely. 'We'd just be questioned until we admitted what we did,' he said gruffly. 'We're out, they know it, that's all there is to it. We might as well drag this out as long as possible and try to figure out another escape plan while we hide.'

'Why not hide here?' Grey asked.

The Skrill at the bottom of the ledges were moving up to the next level, picking through the sleeping and no longer sleeping dragons and checking every possible hiding spot in a systematic fashion. Lightning cracked behind bushes, little ledges had a probing talon stuck in them, and piles of sleeping dragons were rudely scattered, as if the Skrill thought a Night Fury could hide under a half-dozen Gronckles without them noticing or crushing him to death. The one checking the top ledges was almost at the dip they had needed to circumnavigate.

'They're coming this way,' Toothless summarized. If he and Grey wanted to hide, they needed to somehow get down to the areas the Skrill had already checked. That would only work until daybreak came and all the other dragons woke up, but it was something.

He saw the Skrill leaning down to check the ravine, their head dipping out of sight, and made his move. 'Now!' he hissed, leaping out into the open and bounding to the edge of the ledge. Slipping down to the next one was the work of one heart-pounding moment, and Grey came right after him. They huddled together in the shadow of the overhang, which was barely deep enough to hide them both.

Grey's skin – not scales, she didn't have those – was cold, wet, and far too smooth. Toothless huddled protectively over her, raising his wings so that his darker complexion would better fade into the shadows.

They held their position there, waiting for what Toothless suspected was going to happen next. If he were a Skrill and he found a suspicious tunnel he wasn't big enough to fit into that definitely shouldn't be there...

The Skrill shrieked loudly above them, frighteningly close. 'Here!' he – it was Tolerable, Toothless knew his voice well enough to distinguish him from the others – roared.

The Skrill on the ground took to the air, and the one watching the exit up top came streaking down, an eye-catching blur of excess lightning crackling out in a trail.

Toothless growled to himself, taking his wings off Grey and leading her down further. This, at least, he could do. They were going to be distracted with the tunnel, and in that time he and Grey could sneak down and hide in one of the hiding places the Skrill had already investigated. If they 'cleared' the entire mountain, they would go to checking the ice outside, and it was possible he and Grey could hide through the entire day.

It was a wild plan, but a plan nonetheless. He leaped down again, leading Grey through the more occupied ledges with careful speed. The disinterest of the average dragon worked in their favor here; most were trying their hardest to ignore the intermittent shrieks of the Skrill and get back to sleep. Those who were up and looking around, relatively few though they were, he gave a wide berth.

First, they'd get down to the first places the Skrill checked. Then, they would find somewhere to hide out. If they could keep their heads down long enough, the Skrill would assume they had gotten away and go searching, and he and Grey could go back to the tunnel and complete it, or find another way out. It would be–

'Oh!' Grey said behind him, speaking quietly but urgently. 'I know what to do!'

He didn't know why, but a part of him wanted to pretend she hadn't said anything. His hackles would have risen if he wasn't already on full alert; something about that didn't sound right at all. Not here, not now–

'I know her, we can trust her,' Grey continued, pushing past him and taking the lead as they descended another ledge to the rocky surface below. She made for one of the piles of Gronckles that littered the rockier areas, her tail swaying eagerly, and to Toothless' horror began poking one with her paw!

Her words sunk in a heartbeat later, just as he was about to pounce and drag her away from the danger, and he hesitated. It didn't make sense that Grey would know someone here, or that she would trust them, but it was not as if he knew everything about her or her past, so it didn't necessarily have to make sense to him…

The Gronckle, a bulky blue and grey female, stirred and twisted around to look at the one prodding her. Large yellow eyes met Grey's purple gaze.

'Nærandi,' Grey hissed, 'help us hide!'

The Gronckle – Nærandi, Grey had called her, but that didn't sound like a name a Gronckle would take – blinked blearily at her.

'Please?' Grey added. 'You–'

'Escaped usurpers!' the Gronckle called out, opening her mouth to roar loudly. She began struggling and kicking those laying beside and on top of her, roaring all the while.

Toothless was already moving, darting past Grey, away from the sudden alarm, but he knew it was too late, that running wasn't going to be enough. Most of the dragons around them weren't reacting quickly enough to stop him, but they didn't have to, not when there were–

Lightning smashed into the dirt in front of him, spraying grit into his eyes and knocking him back with sheer force. He scrambled to his paws, but another blast to his side knocked him down again immediately, and then talons were cruelly seizing around his body, yanking him off the ground with such force that his neck snapped forward painfully. Smaller shocks surged through him, torturously forcing his muscles to spasm and clench as he was carried away from even a small chance at freedom.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Toothless let out a high-pitch yelp as he fell and his bruised underside smacked against the floor of his cold, icy cell. Even that small noise felt like burning coals in his throat that was so sore and dry from so much howling and roaring. The Skrill were merciless in handling him for his escape attempt, and their punishments stung, both literally and figuratively. He lay still, convulsing and twitching, helplessly enduring the burning agony as he waited for the worst of it to bleed out of him.

He wished that was the worst the Skrill had to offer. No, if he was going to be making wishes, he would wish that he and Grey were never caught to begin with. Go big or go home… or not go home, as the case was here. Go back to his icy little cell.

'Where is he?' Angry roared above the pits, circling erratically. The other three Skrill – Cold, Condescending, and Tolerable – stalked the ice on their talons, inspecting the other pits, and by extension the other prisoners.

Who Angry was talking about was obvious. Star had yet to be brought back, and by extension Sadistic was nowhere to be seen. Hefnd glared in Toothless' direction, and Einn was probably doing his best to sleep through the noise, but Star's pit was conspicuously empty.

'Not in the mountain,' Condescending snapped irritably. 'Calm down before you waste your charge.'

'This is not a night to be calm,' Tolerable growled. A shadow loomed over Toothless' pit, and he glared up at the looming Skrill. A crackling arc of sparks illuminated Tolerable's jaw, but he pulled away without doing anything.

'I am calm,' Cold volunteered, his voice low and all but buzzing through the air. 'But there is still a usurper missing… You will not let me go back to sleep until they are all caught, so get on with it.'

'Sadistic is missing, and so is the third escapee,' Tolerable said. 'You two go look for him. I will search for the prisoner. You watch to make sure there are no more escape attempts.' Toothless couldn't see them, so he didn't know who was supposed to do what, but that obviously wasn't a problem for them.

'Guard them, yes,' Angry muttered to himself, pacing between the two rows of pits, his sparking lights visible as twinkles in the semi-transparent ice. His voice was low and dangerous, laden with a sharp bite that reminded Toothless of trying to talk while he wanted so badly to blast something that it was welling up in his throat of its own accord.

'Not that we should be guarding usurpers,' Angry continued. 'But we have to, but we shouldn't… I would. I'm supposed to…' His breathing was coming so harshly that it could be heard clearly, a rough, irregular rasp of rage. 'Wrong, it's wrong, kill and be done with it, who cares that they live.'

The tip of Angry's barbed tail dangled at the edge of Toothless' pit, and he could see the crackling form of the Skrill leaning down to look in on Hefnd, who was feigning sleep. Talons stretched out toward the helpless Night Fury…

Then drew back, accompanied by a violent crack of lightning that made both Toothless and Hefnd flinch, though it struck nothing but air.

'Can't, won't, shouldn't, should,' Angry snarled to himself, sounding more than a little unhinged. He whirled around, and suddenly Toothless was looking up at two dark grey eyes, tiny crackles of lightning arcing all along the face they were set in.

'I would kill you if I was allowed,' Angry said clearly, speaking directly to Toothless. Two sharp talons scraped at the side of the pit as he leaned forward. 'Clean, quick. None of this.'

There was nothing Toothless could possibly say to that. A few possible responses flew through his mind, but he couldn't imagine any of them having a positive outcome. Words would mean nothing, less than nothing, and anything physical might give Angy an excuse to do… something. To act on that very real death threat, allowed or not.

Sharp teeth clacked together, and Angry withdrew, kicking chunks of ice down at Toothless as he pulled his talons from their grip on the edge of the pit. 'I hate this,' he said clearly, before leaping into the air and presumably continuing to watch from above.

'The feeling's mutual,' Toothless grumbled to himself, breathing deeply to try and calm his racing heart. If he thought hard about what he had just heard and been told, he could probably piece something together from it; insights into how one of the Skrill felt about all of this were few and far between. But he didn't have the presence of mind to think about that now; not when he was still waiting for the consequences of their escape.

He wasn't the only one waiting for the consequences, either. Grey was stuck in her own ice pit, just as caught and just as guilty of trying to escape. Not to mention guilty of prematurely ending their escape, through what he couldn't honestly believe was simple naivety or stupidity.

'Grey?' he asked, though he knew she was not listening through his senses like she usually did. If it weren't for the feeling of their link still being there, he might have thought that it was broken; she was always using some aspect of it. But not now. She had fully retreated into herself, and when he attempted to see through her eyes, they were tightly shut.

He pulled away from her senses after that, giving up on contacting her. She clearly didn't want to talk, either through fear or guilt. He was accustomed to letting her sit in silence when she was reluctant to speak…

'But this is different,' he growled to himself. Before, he would have been pushing her for no reason, but now she needed to give answers of some kind. She was responsible for their capture, and he needed to know why. It didn't make sense. She had known a random Gronckle's name – or thought she did, or imagined that she did – and she had tried to get them help, where there was clearly none to be had. She knew that the King probably had a mental paw on everyone to some degree, she knew asking for help was almost certainly asking to be caught. But she'd done it anyway.

He shuffled around in his pit and tried to get comfortable, a futile effort though that was. He had no fire to warm himself with, and his co-conspirator was silent. The Skrill might think they had yet to fully wrap up the escape attempt, but he knew better, and that meant he was waiting for the other paw to drop. And he had no idea how to begin planning another escape attempt, or whether he would even be able to once the Skrill regrouped.

It was going to be a long, cold, dangerous night.

O-O-O

Toothless didn't know when, exactly, he had fallen asleep, or how to warm himself when his flame was depleted. He did know that when he woke his entire body felt like an icicle, and his head a snowdrift. Everything was slow, muddled, a direct consequence of being completely without any source of warmth.

It was not a desirable state of existence to face a normal day with, much less one as important as this. Star was back, and presumably Sadistic with her. Neither was happy.

Star stood stiffly in her pit, every so often lifting her left back paw and pressing it against the wall, leaving thin stains of red wherever it went. There was a deep, jagged gash down the back of said leg, and she moved as if completely unaccustomed to the pain, wincing with every loud noise or unexpected jolt.

Both of which there were plenty of; Toothless had been woken by an argument already well underway, punctuated by loud, ear-raising snaps and snarls. He couldn't see any of the Skrill, but he had no trouble imagining how they must look now.

'I took her on the outside of the mountain, up by the lip,' Sadistic was snarling. 'She was hiding there. It took time to find her, but not to catch her. Now shut up about it!'

'That is so clearly not true that you might as well be trying to hide her body and proclaiming the kill an accident,' Cold drawled, sharp disbelief underlying every word. 'I do not see what you have to lie about, just tell us what made you abandon your important duties and let us be done with it.'

There was a loud snapping sound, one of lightning on ice, and then a scraping thump of scale on scale, one that made Toothless think two or more Skrill were doing their best to knock each other over with brute force. 'No!' Tolerable roared. 'Fighting will not distract us. Tell us what really happened.'

'I left to relieve myself,' Sadistic spit angrily. 'When I returned, all three were gone. I was going to find them all before sunrise. They had no chance of actually getting anywhere.'

'And you didn't let any of us in on the fun?' Condescending huffed. 'How rude of you. But it still does not make sense. How did you let any of them get so far, if you were only gone for the time it takes to relieve yourself?'

'I did not hurry, I thought they were all asleep,' Sadistic retorted. 'And it is not easy to flush out vermin without alerting anyone. It was a challenge.'

'Not as much of a challenge as a flightless usurper somehow climbing all the way to the top of the mountain from the inside,' Tolerable said in a low voice. 'I find that very unlikely.'

'You and me both,' Sadistic growled. 'I made sure she won't be climbing anything from now on. The other two did not even get that far.'

'There is that,' Condescending agreed. 'There was a hole, but it got nowhere close to the outside.'

'Even if it had, they'd freeze to death in the ice field if we could not find them,' Cold added. 'Really, we should have let them try.'

'You know we cannot do that,' Tolerable huffed tiredly. Much of the tension seemed to have left him, and by extension the rest of the group. They seemed to believe Sadistic's story.

Even though said story was a lie from start to finish.

Toothless knew he wasn't in great shape to be doing anything tricky, but even now he was well aware that he had leverage. Dangerous leverage, because Sadistic was the sort of dragon to rip one's heart out for just being annoying, let alone threatening to reveal secrets, but leverage nonetheless.

'It would leave them to die, yes, we know,' Condescending rumbled. 'No killing the usurpers, no letting them kill themselves, no letting them escape. All the vines we need to choke ourselves to death.'

'Be glad "no complaining" is not one of the rules, and put it out of your mind,' Tolerable advised. 'And Sadistic… No more leaving without getting someone to take your place.'

'You aren't in charge here,' Sadistic snarled.

'I'll go to him if you want authority,' Tolerable shot back.

There was a brief silence, save for talons scraping ice.

'Don't do that, I'll be more careful,' Sadistic conceded with a reluctant growl. 'And I'll deal with the punishment for them, too.'

'You ruined our sleep, we are not going to reward you by letting you punish them,' Condescending objected.

'You all know I'm best at it,' Sadistic argued, sounding more exasperated than anything. 'I know just how far to go before it is truly life-threatening.'

'She's right, you don't deserve the satisfaction,' Cold interjected. 'Let the overgrown fledgling do it, he needs practice tearing usurpers apart. Just in case we ever get the chance to do it for real.'

Toothless dug his claws into the ice, tensing up even as the telltale prickles of blood rushing back into his extremities started up. He had hoped that the Skrill would do to him what they had done to Einn upon retrieving him, which was to say nothing. But if they were discussing who was to punish him and Grey, that they were doing it all wasn't under debate.

'Make him leave their legs alone,' Condescending suggested. 'I want them all capable of doing my tricks.'

'Do whatever, just keep them from screeching loud enough to wake me,' Cold grumbled. Wings flapped, and a shadow passed over the pits, presumably signalling his departure.

'I ought to carry them over and bleed them directly above him, see if that wakes him,' Sadistic growled. Both of the other Skrill laughed coarsely.

'Next time,' Tolerable said amiably, a low chuckle still buzzing in his throat. 'But for now, you can go join the raid that is going to leave soon. The four-winged annoyance wanted at least one of us to come along, just in case–'

'In case that usurper shows its face again,' Sadistic interrupted. 'Oh, yes, I will definitely go do that. Enjoy teaching the welp to get his claws dirty.' The sound of flapping wings signalled his exit from the conversation, though he did not pass over the pits on his way out into the nest.

'I,' Condescending said slowly once he was gone, 'am going to go do something I enjoy. Do not expect me to join that pointless excursion.'

'It's about as pointless as you climbing on top of that self-flaming imbecile you've taken a liking to,' Tolerable said calmly.

'If you all weren't such pent-up lunatics, I might not need my lesser companions,' Condescending retorted with a sharp growl. 'I do not know if it is this place or just my luck, but all four of you are obnoxiously erratic and strange.'

'Stranger than consorting with males who barely share the same bodily shape as you?' he asked amiably. There was an air of familiarity between the two of them, twisted and warped by their crackling voices, but still present. 'I cannot imagine doing as much, and I've been stuck here longer than you.'

'That's because you're boring,' she huffed. 'Like I said, I will be busy for the next few days. Make Sadistic take any of my turns watching them, he deserves it. And I want my pets in acceptable condition when I get back!'

She roared wordlessly, he roared back, and the two of them took off together, the image of a pair of old friends.

Said image was disturbing to Toothless, because they were Skrill and their in-jokes referenced torture and killing. Not as disturbing as thinking about some of the other mental images Condescending's remarks had given him, though.

It occurred to him, after a short time spent pointedly not thinking about most of what he had just heard, that they had been left without a guard. Cold was off napping, Condescending was looking for her "friend", Sadistic was joining a raid, and Angry was presumably somewhere else, as the other Skrill had talked as if he wasn't around to hear them. Tolerable had left with Condescending, meaning nobody was watching their captives.

'So much for keeping a closer guard,' Toothless snorted. That boded well for the next time he tried to escape. They might talk about being more careful, or at least making Sadistic be more careful, but talking and doing were two different things.

'You're a mind-numbingly stupid hunk of waste.'

'Hello, Hefnd,' Toothless sighed. He didn't even bother looking over at the ice wall that separated him and the acerbic male. 'I'd appreciate it if you let me wallow in dread in silence.'

His attempt at making light of the situation rang hollow, and reminded him of Grey, who he still needed answers from. He checked their link, but she was still to all appearances asleep. That wasn't necessarily a good thing; if Tolerable meant to have him and Grey punished imminently, it would be better for her if she was awake and aware before they began.

'You deserve everything you're going to get,' Hefnd spat. 'Where do you think you were going with Star? And why do you think she's yours to take?'

'What?' He turned to look at the orange-eyed male. 'Grey and I went without her. Sadistic took her somewhere before we left.' He had assumed Hefnd would know of that particular oddity, given it was a semi-regular occurrence.

'No, you saw wrong,' Star interrupted, her voice shaky with pain. 'You left first, and then I decided to go out and see what was what.'

'That's… blatantly untrue.' He stared at her, wondering what she was up to. Or what she had been threatened with, to keep her silence. 'You do realize Grey and I both know that's not right.'

'Are you accusing Sadistic of lying?' Star asked doubtfully. 'I hope not. You're enjoyable to look at, but you won't be anymore if he gets wind of that.'

'What happened?' Hefnd demanded. 'Star, you went after them?'

'Yes, and if he says otherwise he clearly enjoys being mutilated,' Star said primly. Her affected nonchalance was ruined by a quiver running up her back legs and how she winced as she pressed her cut against a fresh patch of ice.

Toothless decided against pressing the issue; Star clearly was lying to protect herself from further retribution, and it didn't help anyone if he challenged that. If he was going to do anything with what he knew of the truth of last night, it would involve the Skrill, not his fellow prisoners. 'Never mind, I must be remembering wrong,' he said bluntly. 'You're right.'

Two Skrill flew overhead, both bright with pent-up lightning, and Toothless braced himself in his cell, holding his wings close in anticipation, though they were not coming for him just yet. 'Grey, wake up!' he called out, barking loudly. It was time.

He would endure. Whatever they did, they weren't going to kill or maim him. Anything less, he could suffer through.

O-O-O

There wasn't much blood. Pain, tortured screeching, but not much blood. Drawing more than a little blood was dangerous, and if there was anything that had been driven into Toothless, it was that there were many ways to cause pain without it being potentially fatal, so long as one knew what one was doing.

Scratchy panting filled his ears and tore at his throat, necessary and agonizing in equal measures. He was on his side – he didn't remember how he ended up like that – with his stomach to a wall of ice.

'They can take a hit to their backs, so long as you target the wing shoulders,' Tolerable's infinitely less tolerable voice proclaimed. He sounded so disinterested, like he was teaching someone to dig a waste pit or something equally boring and simple.

What felt like a boulder crashed into Toothless' back, cracking against his shoulders with a force that made him cry out yet again. Lightning came with it, just enough to keep him convulsing, unable to fight back in any way. He was helpless, and had been since the first lightning bolt. There was no fighting the coursing shocks the Skrill imparted with every touch, and they had yet to run low on lightning.

He could try to seek refuge in the other set of senses in his head, but feeling Grey would only leave him feeling similar pain. She was somewhere behind him, back in her pit, nursing her wounds. They had done her first, and though they had totally refrained from shocking her or drawing blood, that just meant she felt every bruise and fracture all the more keenly. Her senses were no better than his own.

'But not several,' Tolerable continued in his maddening monotone. No further blows fell, leaving a few heartbeats of respite as he spoke. 'The spine is weak. Drive down on it from above, use your leverage correctly, and it will break, killing the usurper.'

'I would want to do that,' Angry said eagerly.

'Yes, if you aimed to kill,' Tolerable confirmed. 'A strike from above is ideal, or below if they are unobservant. If you do not aim to kill, avoid the center of the back, from the hips upward.'

Star was… somewhere. Toothless had a hard time keeping track of Grey, who was literally in his head. He had no chance of remaining aware of Star once the pain really started, except to know that they had stopped hurting her a while ago, too. He was new, and he was rightly considered the instigator. They were mostly focusing on him. A part of him was glad of it, the same part that shied away from Grey's senses even though she was arguably in less agony, but the rest of him just wanted it to stop.

'What about the stupid little fins?' Angry asked, speaking of one of the few places Toothless wasn't already hurt. They had bitten his tail, bruised his paws, broken at least one rib, and torn scales off his chest. His head was throbbing – though they hadn't hit hard enough to knock him out – and his gums were oozing blood. One of his eyes stung, though that might just have been from having his face rubbed against the unforgiving ice. There were bruises everywhere else.

'Necessary for complex flight, but not enough to ground a usurper without other injuries,' Tolerable said coldly. 'Annoyingly hard to do crippling damage. You are better off going for other targets if you are close enough to attack, lethal or not.'

Toothless yelped as a hard talon unexpectedly rammed down on one of the small fins by his back leg, crunching it against him. A renewed current of muscle-tearingly strong pain jolted through him, making spots appear in front of his eyes.

'Good for pain and little else,' Tolerable concluded. 'Now, there is more, we have barely touched the wings, but can you tell me why am I not going to demonstrate anything else?'

'Because it would kill the usurper?' Angry guessed. There was a distant buzzing in Toothless' ears that made him suspect Angry was right.

'No,' Tolerable said. 'Because we need to save something for next time he tries and fails to escape.'

A pair of wicked talons suddenly clutched at Toothless' tail, and he was dragged along the ice, none too gently. He saw through his one good eye Angry, watching closely, and Tolerable's tail.

Then he was falling, and the ground rose to meet him with one final blow. He wheezed a few times, the last of the lingering shocks working their way out of his trembling limbs, and fell still. Everything hurt.

'Remember this next time you think about testing your luck,' Tolerable called down from above, still sounding unnaturally, inexplicably calm and detached. 'Except next time, it will be worse.'

Toothless looked up at his tormentor, then tried to suppress a whine as he pressed his bruised chin to the ice. He knew there would be no "next time". He was well and truly trapped.

O-O-O

Drago's fleet was always moving, but there was a definite difference to be seen, heard, and felt when they were in a hurry to get somewhere. Men rushed about their individual ships like ants, adjusting sails and shoveling coal and doing many other things Von didn't understand.

She watched it all from above, carrying Maour back to the armada after a long fishing trip. The relatively unimpressive wooden ship they had been given quarters on did offer food, but one look at the grey swill that passed for a meal had her heading for the open ocean, and Maour was right behind her. Ruffnut…

Well, Ruffnut had left their cabin at daybreak with a breezy assurance that she'd be fine, and disappeared somewhere among the many, many ships and hundreds of humans. For all Von knew, Ruffnut was at the bottom of the ocean by now.

She tried not to think about that; pessimism wasn't helping anything. Ruffnut was probably fine. Probably more than fine, if her track record was any indication. Theoretically, none of them were in any danger from Drago's forces, human or dragon.

The only one in real danger was her brother, stuck in an enemy stronghold with dragons who surely wanted nothing more than to see him suffer. She had a hard time feeling positive about any of this. The best she could manage was probably a neutral determination.

"It's weird, travelling with the fleet of dragon-fighting mercenaries," Maour remarked as they made their way back to the armada. A visible wake of turbulent water followed the many ships, like a line drawn in sand by a dragging tail. There was some turbulence at the very front of the armada, too, in front of the largest lead ships, but she attributed that to their weird, scooping prows made entirely of metal.

'So long as they are on our side,' she said. Though she had the feeling that if it weren't for the ice nest being so overwhelmingly hostile, Drago's forces wouldn't be on their side. The enemy of their enemy was their friend, but only because they had a common enemy. Without that…

She didn't like the thought of trying to fight all of what was laid out under her now. Dozens of wooden ships, many more with metal carapaces like floating crabs of doom, and a few large enough that she didn't understand how they could float at all, let alone move so fast. The human element alone was intimidating, to say nothing of the dragons she barely ever saw except when they were out on patrol.

Another duo of armored dragons rose from the deck of one of the ships in the middle of the armada, exchanging places with two of those that were flying loops around the edges of it all. The patrolling dragons were flying lower than Von, seemingly unconcerned by her presence, but she could see their riders looking up at her.

'We are safe here, right?' she asked Maour. 'If I go look in on those dragons, wherever they are going, they will not try to cage me?' She remembered her encounter with the one talkative guard on their way in. She hadn't felt unwelcome. It was the humans she was worried about.

"That's what Drago claims, and I haven't seen anybody disobeying him yet," Maour said doubtfully, "but it's probably best to stay away from the people in charge of handling those dragons. I get the feeling that if we get into a conflict big enough to involve him, he's not going to take our side."

'Not when he thinks I'm a catastrophe lying in wait,' Von muttered. She really didn't know how she felt about Drago, but that at least had come across quite clearly. She was dangerous and bound to turn on Maour sooner or later, according to him, and was not to be trusted except as far as Maour was holding her metaphorical leash.

That was part of why she felt the urge to go investigate the dragon side of this armada, now that she thought about it. There had to be a hierarchy of sorts, somebody the others all looked to, and she might have better luck understanding them, whoever they were. Maour might too, but… she wanted to do this on her own. Ruffnut was making herself useful, if annoying. Maour was their point of contact with Drago. She was just the ride as of now, and that didn't sit right with her.

She touched down on the grubby wooden deck of their designated ship with a dissatisfied huff, and stared right back at the foreign-looking human who was eyeing her from his place by the railing. His bald head reflected the green light of the odd lantern hanging from the base of the mast, making him look like he had one green eye instead of two mostly black ones.

He blinked first, glancing away and palming a suspiciously dagger-shaped object hidden in the folds of his cloak. She kept an eye on him until she and Maour were safely below deck–

Only to be completely caught by surprise when a fat man wearing clanking armor walked right up to Maour. "Oy," the man said as she flinched and twisted to look at him, "Drago wants ya as soon as possible in his cabin, said he's gonna give you your first task. Don't bring the devil."

"The devil can amuse herself while I'm gone," Maour said dryly. "So long as everyone remembers not to mess with her."

'I won't be sticking around here anyway,' Von said as they went right back up to the deck. She didn't want to hang around where the suspicious bald man could see her. 'Good luck, brother.'

"If you want to explore, now's probably the best time," Maour muttered to her. "They already see you as being under my control, if you get into trouble I can blame it on us being separate."

'I'd rather not get in trouble at all…' But she did see his point. 'Good luck.' She bumped her muzzle against his back, then took to the sky again, this time without him.

She flew low, swooping over squat masts and avoiding the taller ones. A low mutter of shouts of surprise fell behind her like the spray when she flew too close to the ocean, most likely coming from those who noticed she had no rider.

She felt extremely vulnerable without Maour, but it was a fleeting feeling rooted as much in the atmosphere of this place as in reality. She would be fine; word of a single Night Fury on their side had surely swept through them by now. She was a novelty and an ally. They wouldn't strike at her without provocation, and simply moving about the armada was not provocation. Not quite.

The ship she sought out, the one she had seen the dragons flying up from and landing on in turn, was one of the partially metal masses that looked like it should have sunk to the bottom of the ocean long ago. It was grimy and stained with soot, bearing three of the green lanterns and no other sources of light. The middle of the deck was taken up by a massive grate, presumably leading below.

More importantly, there were two dragons standing guard on either side of the deck. One, a Nadder, wore no armor except for a piece of metal covering the underbelly. The other was a Gronckle so fully covered that she couldn't see their scales at all. Neither had a human standing guard with them, though they were tethered to the deck with thick chains that made Von uneasy.

She opted to approach the Nadder, reasoning that she could more easily speak with someone she could see under the armor. 'What are you guarding?' she asked, landing near the grate.

The Nadder stared at her for a few long, awkward moments before shaking his head irritably. 'The others,' he said in a rough voice, clicking his beak ominously. 'You are not one of ours.'

'I'm working with you all for the time being,' she hastily explained. 'We're on the same side.'

'Then you are welcome,' the Nadder said, 'but the humans below may not think the same if they have not been told about you. They are slow to adapt and slower to pass orders.'

'I'll just stay up here, then,' she decided. 'Will you get in trouble if we are seen talking?'

'They don't know enough to know that we are talking, so no,' the Nadder replied. 'Most of them know very little, in the end. But they have their uses.'

'In my experience, humans can learn, but very rarely choose to,' Von said vaguely. 'Is it annoying, having to take them up with you when you fly?'

'Is it annoying for you?' the Nadder retorted.

'Mine are not like yours,' Von objected. 'It's not the same. You just said yours were stupid.' She didn't know where she was going with any of this, but it was something. A conversation that she could lead around to things she wanted to know, sooner or later.

'All humans are stupid to some extent,' the Nadder said dismissively. 'There is maybe one here worth heeding, and we all do heed it. The rest are simply extensions of its control. Slow, stupid extensions. We tolerate them, little more.'

'Is there somebody in charge among our kind?' she asked, trying to phrase it in the way he was talking. 'I would like to meet them.'

'There is,' the Nadder confirmed. 'He is here for his own reasons, and we all… follow… him. He is not shackled to this place or these humans.' He paced forward, stretching the chain to its fullest extent. A taut line extended from around his left leg to a hook set in the metal portion of the deck, but he barely seemed to notice.

Von stood her ground, even as the Nadder stared down at her. 'I'd like to meet him,' she repeated. 'So that I will know who I am working with.' She felt Maour looking in from wherever he was at the moment. His presence emboldened her, if only because she didn't want to back down while he was watching. 'Now, if at all possible.'

'It is not possible,' the Nadder said seriously, flaring his wings for a moment. Von saw scars down them, old wounds long since healed. 'To meet him face to face… He will want to, but now is not a good time. Come back the first night after we next make landfall, when the ships are still and there is no fighting. Then he will be ready to greet you as a new ally.'

"At least you've got an appointment," Maour murmured in her ear.

'I will find you then,' Von agreed.

'Find whoever is out on deck, it will likely not be me,' the Nadder corrected her. 'Come without your humans. This is a matter for our kind and our kind alone, however intelligent your humans may be.'

'Mine are smarter than yours, in any case,' Von said defensively, glaring up at the Nadder's avian face. His cruelly hooked beak and squinting stare were not enough to cow her. Not by a long shot. 'But if you insist, I'll bring them some other time.'

'After you meet our leader,' the Nadder conceded. 'Speak to him about it. If he allows it, then maybe. It is not as if a human more like us than not would be a new thing. Just new for our side of all this.'

'So the enemy human is real?' Von asked. Sure, Drago had seemed convinced, but she was more than happy to get a second opinion from someone who didn't seem to fear Drago and thus wouldn't feel obliged to share in his delusions if he demanded it.

'As real as the tide, and it has killed many of us,' the Nadder hissed. 'Nimble, subtle, cruel. If you get the chance, kill it, but be wary, because it does not fight fair and it does not fight like a human should. I have lost scores to it.'

'You, personally?' Von asked.

The Nadder turned away from her and did not answer. He stared out at the armada, his spiked tail twitching ominously.

"Maybe don't push him," Maour advised. Von hadn't intended to, but it was nice to get instant confirmation that her instinct in this instance was right. She took to the air, leaving the Nadder behind. Her back began itching again, the not so subtle feeling of being exposed returning in full force now that she was on the move again, and she gave in to the urge to fly high, well above the effective range of anything humans might think to throw at her, then higher still. Above the clouds and up into the realm of unfiltered sunlight and icy chill.

"So the dragons here are mercenaries," Maour said thoughtfully. Von checked his sight and saw that he was sitting on a bench on the deck of one of the fully metal ships, watching a crew working on one of the larger masts. He was seemingly talking to himself, but she doubted he cared how it looked.

'It did not look that way, with the armor and the chains, but I guess they are letting that happen,' Von murmured. It was a strange contrast, how the dragons outwardly seemed subservient, but spoke as if they were only tolerating the humans at all because they chose to.

"Drago is definitely the sort to grasp for control, so I can see why they might make a show of obeying, if only to keep him happy," Maour offered. "You could ask about it when you meet their leader."

'There are a lot of things I'll ask about,' she assured him, feeling proud. She had gotten a meeting with the leader of the dragons, and from how the Nadder had talked, that was something neither Ruffnut nor Maour would have been able to do. 'Have you met with Drago yet, or is he keeping you waiting?'

"I spoke with him already," Maour explained. "He was busy. He says our first task is to seek out and defeat the dragon rider when they attack in two days."

'How does he know they will do that?' Von asked.

"Something about how they tend to raze islands in a pattern, and we're two days out from a settlement they haven't completely destroyed yet," Maour said. "I'm not sure they will attack, but if they do we have our orders."

'Our orders…' She turned to face the sun, bright and warm on her scales, a pleasant counterpoint to the frigid winds all around her. She wondered if Toothless could see the same sun.

'We have our orders,' she agreed after a moment. Whatever happened, they were coming for him. With allies, with an entire armada of humans and dragons, so long as they did as Drago asked. It would be enough.

It had to be enough, because she didn't know what else they could do. It was Drago or nothing.

Chapter Text

Author's Note:  Sorry for the two-day delay, this one needed a bit more time than usual. We're still on the bi-weekly Thursday schedule going forward.

O-O-O

If there was one lesson the island laid out below Maour had to teach, it was that building things out of stone did not make them invulnerable to dragons.

The island was a tall, cliff-lined natural fortress in the shape of a hammer, one long and narrow plateau being the handle, and towering spires that were too thin to count as proper mountains taking up the head. At its lowest point the cliffs were still high enough to induce vertigo, and the docks were connected to the island proper by an impressive set of carved stone stairs that had to have taken years to dig out of the side of the cliff.

But the docks, stone pillars and wooden planks intermixed, were in disrepair. The once grand staircase was chipped and scorched, missing steps and sporting the remnants of cooled magma lumps to make the ascent difficult and dangerous. The village itself at the top of the staircase was at least halfway to being a ruin instead of a place for the living. Piles of rubble marked the remnants of what used to be freestanding stone buildings, and the tents pitched around the outskirts of the village proper spoke volumes about how the rebuilding efforts were going.

Worst of all, the island looked like this before the attack Drago was predicting would hit it. They had arrived first, for all the good that would do.

'This place feels like death,' Von said solemnly as they flew above the island. 'I don't know why, but it does.'

"It's the stone ruins," Maour explained. "They can't easily get rid of them, and they can't build on top of them. So they leave them." Like dead bodies, left to rot instead of being given a proper sendoff. Dragon attacks usually turned houses into ash, not piles of worthless shattered rock. This was a place of slow, irreversible destruction.

People still lived here, though. The tents were occupied, and there was a small crowd gathered on the ramshackle docks where a few of Drago's flagships were putting in. Most of the village seemed to be there, at that; there was no movement around the tents.

It was a depressing setting for the first task Drago had set him and Von, in return for allowing them to come along on the eventual assault on the ice nest. They were to engage the dragon rider in the inevitable – according to Drago – attack on this very island.

'I don't know whether to hope the attack comes, or to hope it does not, for their sake,' Von said quietly, looking down at the crowd of villagers.

"Hope it does," Maour advised. "From the looks of their village, if it doesn't come tonight it will some other night. At least if it happens now we'll be here to help defend them." Though he was fully aware of the parallel between defending an island from dragon attacks now, and doing so back on Berk…

The dragons had been attacking against their will there, though. The same could not be said for this rider he and Von were supposed to fight.

Not that they were going to open with attacking, if the rider showed up. Diplomacy was still a possibility, whatever Drago might say or think afterward, and he wanted the mystery rider to have a good explanation for all of this. Or even a misguided one.

But helping raze villages to the ground, over and over again, was not a promising starting point for establishing common grounds. He ran his fingers over the haft of his scythe.

If it came to a fight, then they'd fight. Him, Von… and maybe Ruffnut, whatever she was planning on doing. That was a rock he would rather not overturn so long as she stayed out of serious trouble.

O-O-O

"Raise the mainsail and turn it side-on to the sun!" Ruffnut commanded.

"Why?" Eret demanded. "There's no wind." He was crouching on the far side of the mast, fiddling with some important sailing-thingy, and Ruffnut casually walked around until she could see him in all his glory. His less-attractive subordinates rushed around him, doing her bidding.

"Because it's in my eyes and I want shade," she explained.

He stared at her.

"For tactical reasons," she amended. "Can't aim if we can't see, and attacking from the West during sunset would put the sun in our eyes. You're not using the sail for anything else right now."

"Does Drago expect an attack at sunset, instead of the usual middle of the night strike?" Eret asked. He didn't seem convinced, but his crew… well, they were hauling the sail around much faster now.

"Eh, it could happen," Ruffnut said noncommittally. If it did, she'd appear to be in Drago's confidences, and if she didn't, nothing was lost. And all the while, she'd get to stare at Eret whenever he wasn't looking.

Whatever happened, it would be more interesting than what Drago was doing right now. She glanced over at the docks, which were within throwing distance of the side of the ship, Eret's craft being one of the more 'normal' ships capable of docking without accidentally crushing the fragile docks, and thus part of the greeting retinue.

Drago himself was nowhere to be seen, but some big guys with broody armor and skull helmets were escorting a cloaked figure, who was in turn talking to the grizzled old woman in charge of the villagers…

There were a lot of children and old people in the crowd. Few warriors, and fewer in their prime. The entire village had come down to welcome Drago, but there was an air of desperation to the whole thing.

"Is Drago going to take them on?" Eret asked her. He kicked at something at the base of the mast before standing up and walking to the side of the ship. "You'd know better than us."

"He stuck me here to order you around, so clearly I'm not that high up," she pointed out. If that was an attempt to poke at her cover story, it was a stupid one. She wasn't going to claim something so easily disproved. Maintaining a cover as Drago's fictional right-hand woman was impossible; she was just a lackey one rung above Eret on the hierarchy. Somebody who could reasonably be unknown or forgotten by all the other lackeys.

The cloaked figure shook the hand of the old woman, and the crowd on the docks followed the both of them onto the ship.

"And another village falls," Eret said with a grimace, pointedly not responding to her jab at his importance. "This is the third time this year. They won't want to go back and rebuild after tonight."

"I know I wouldn't," Ruffnut agreed. "Not when they'll just keep coming." If things were really that bad here, they might as well leave. Berk had been on the edge of survival with intermittent food-oriented raids. Repeated attacks with the intent of total annihilation would have wiped them off the map eventually. The people getting out now were the smart ones… or the only ones left. Or both.

Shade fell over her and Eret, and she looked back to see the sail positioned as she had demanded.

If this was her home, she'd leave, but it wasn't. It was always easier to get messy on someone else's turf. Especially when they probably weren't going to be coming back no matter how the fight turned out. "Show me your armory," she demanded. "I'm in-between long-term weapons at the moment, and I want to see what you've got."

O-O-O

Clouds came before the sunset, a dense cover blown in on frigid Northern winds. The sun disappeared, and all was shrouded in premature darkness. Soldiers moved throughout the ruined village, setting up choke points, siege weapons, and other infrastructure. Armored dragons sat on many of the still-intact rooftops, accompanied by soldiers with crossbows or pikes. As the ambient light dimmed further, many green lanterns were lit across the armada and the village.

Maour thought he understood now why Drago's armada bothered with those. No common dragon's fire burned green, so it was an easy way to tell at a glance which distant lights were intended and which were fires started by the enemy. In the chaos of a large-scale battle, any additional clarity was good for the defenders.

Von perched on the rocky heights of the bluffs behind the village, looking up at the clouds. There were a few armored dragons spread around her, but none close enough to easily hold a conversation with. Maour sat beside her, his legs dangling over a steep drop. The wind made his eyes tear up and swept his hair back, but he endured. When he confronted the dragon rider, it would not do to be wearing a mask or face covering of any kind, regardless of how cold it was.

A Zippleback with metal plating on both necks and two riders dove down from the clouds. A thin green line trailed from them as they fell, and then the line ignited into a flash of fire.

Two low horns sounded from the armada, echoed by several more a moment later, a sonorous warning that needed no translation.

Maour turned to Von and mounted with a single swift movement, pulling himself up with both hands. "Let's find them," he whispered.

Von leaned forward and let herself be pulled off the cliff, falling long enough to gather some speed before pulling out and swooping back upward.

Out in the distance, from the deepest part of the cloudbank, dark forms began appearing. Differing in size and shape, the only thing they all had in common was that they were flying toward the island. Ten, twenty, and then too many to count, all descending silently.

Von flew high, up into the clouds directly above the island. They wouldn't be meeting the first wave of attackers; that was an easy way to get sucked into the moment to moment struggle of trying to survive. Drago's men and dragons would be doing that.

Maour knew almost nothing about the dragon rider, but anyone who had lasted this long and not been spotted often enough to do away with the mystery of their existence wouldn't be joining the first wave either. They'd be doing exactly what he and Von were now…

Getting a dragon's-eye view. Von coasted in the lowest layer of the icy vapor, just high enough to not be visible from below. She dipped down briefly, long enough to get a look around, then went back up again. The same movements occurred a short while later, and then again some time after that. Skimming for visibility, staying as high as possible so that the dragon rider would have to be below them to see the battle.

Dragons, upwards of a hundred of them all told, swarmed around the island and the ships docked around it. They flew wide circles, avoiding the armada's defenses and screeching eerily, ducking in to strike almost at random. Half of the attacks were tricks, feigned strikes meant to draw out a response, but the other half were real, torrents of fire lancing out in the gloom to strike at hulls and sails. The larger dragons waited further out…

One flew higher than the others and had a peculiar four-winged silhouette. A figure stood on its broad back, tall and completely defiant of the biting winds exacerbated by flying. They were clad in overlapping scale and plate armor, ridges jutting out and overlapping like a Nadder's tailspines. The head was elongated and sported tusks, both masked and cowled. The figure held a polearm like a walking stick, and stood rock-steady even when the dragon carrying them suddenly dove–

An explosion rocked the village's tent outskirts, and the circling dragons closest to it fell in on the decimated tent like flies swarming a fresh carcass. More fire bloomed bright in the same area, and Drago's soldiers fired into the mass. The fight, the real fight, grew from there, standoffs broken by attack and counterattack all branching from the same place.

'Do we go down now?' Von asked, reminding him of their mission.

"Yes." The four-winged dragon and rider were still hanging back, mostly alone in the sky above the shore. None of the armored dragons were flying out to fight them, all more concerned with skirmishing with those directly assaulting the ships and the village, and none of the ballistae or other siege weaponry could fire so far.

Von flew silently downward, circling warily so as to keep an eye on all directions. None of the attacking dragons were looking up, an oversight that Maour couldn't fault them for, given all of the armored dragons were sticking close to the ground.

Then, while he and Von were still quite a ways above it all, the detailed but utterly unrevealing mask tilted upwards, as if on a whim, as the other rider looked up. Maybe to check the clouds, or just to stretch his or her neck after looking forward and down for so long. Or maybe they sensed eyes on them. Whatever the reason, the effect was obvious. The figure continued to stare, and they pointed their polearm up, directly at Von.

Maour rose in the saddle, mindful of Von's movements and the possibility that she might at any moment have to duck or dodge. He stood, empty-handed and mostly sure of his footing, mimicking the rider's stance as Von came lower and closer. His hands were empty, and he wore no mask.

He couldn't think of a less threatening way to approach the rider.

The four-winged dragon turned in a broad, sweeping arc, and Von adjusted to follow the same turn, circling warily. The four-wing had an expressive but grim face.

Neither the human nor the four-winged dragon spoke, though the dragon at least would have had no trouble making himself heard. They all circled once, twice, without shifting from the standoff. The fight raged on without them, far away and yet close.

"We did not come here to fight," Maour called out, trusting that his words would reach both the dragon and the human, as they always did. It could be considered a lie, what he said, but it was also true. He and Von had come out here, tonight, with the intention of speaking first and only fighting if they were attacked. He did not speak for Drago or his men.

The dragon stared askance at them, a heavy brow-plate lifting much like an eyebrow. The human, though…

The human stood stock-still, not so much as tilting their masked head. Maour could have been speaking to a statue for all the reaction he got.

'I'll take us closer,' Von murmured, dipping to the side to cut her circle into something smaller and quicker. She seemed to be of the opinion that Maour hadn't been heard, and maybe he hadn't… But that would mean the rider did not hear him, where the dragon had.

He had not assumed that this mysterious rider would have something equivalent to the understanding his link had granted him, but he hoped. It would be a lot easier to make contact–

The figure moved their staff. Maour could see that it wasn't just a stick, there was an elongated blunt shape on one end, like an oar that had lost most of its blade. Said blunt end had been pointed at him, but now it was being whipped back and forth, and a low, rattling whine could be heard.

The four-winged dragon bared its teeth and snarled at Von.

A small noise from above, a whistle of wind past something hard and fast, got Maour moving before he even knew what he was hearing. "Drop!" he yelled, falling to his knees on the saddle and gripping tightly. Von yanked her wings in and let her momentum carry her forward and down.

A massive, dark shape ripped through the air behind them. Von twisted around and fired, and lightning crackled, and the Skrill that had almost struck them out of the sky rose with bared teeth. The four-winged dragon and rider were behind him, and coming down fast.

The message, such as there was one inherent in a potentially deadly sneak attack, was clear. There wouldn't be any more talking.

Von broke the momentary face-off by stooping into a steep dive toward the tumultuous ocean below, dropping under both of the large dragons in front of her. The Skrill screeched and blasted downward, white-hot lightning striking behind her, but he missed and she was past them before he or the four-winged dragon could do anything else.

Von made for the armada and island under attack, flying with all the speed she could muster. Maour turned around in the saddle, twisting to watch her back. The Skrill and four-winged dragon were in hot pursuit, but the four-winged dragon was faster and in the way of the Skrill, blocking any further blasts of indiscriminate lightning.

"Left, down," Maour instructed as she fled, directing her in such a way that would continue to block the Skrill even as he sacrificed more of his speed to fly out to the side and get a clear shot. Von was faster than both the Skrill and the four-winged dragon, and she cleared some space between them, but none of their three pursuers looked even the slightest bit inclined to give up the chase once she made it to the battle proper, which she would in a matter of moments.

The rider was still standing, despite their dragon's heavy flapping and straining efforts to catch up. Two legs firmly planted, staff pointed forward, they stood as if on a rock in the middle of a field, swaying so slightly with every jerking shift underfoot that they looked more stable in the air than even the dragon carrying them.

A frustrated streak of lightning crossed the sky horizontally a ways in front of Von, slanted downward to end on the cliffs of the island. "Left again," Maour called out, seeing that the Skrill was getting far enough to the side that the four-winged dragon's bulk wouldn't block him for much longer. It wouldn't really be blocking him at all if he wasn't being so cautious about hitting his ally, far more so than Maour would have expected from a Skrill under any circumstances.

Von jerked to the side, and Maour abruptly realized that they were at the Armada as a sail flashed past him. He hurriedly turned around just as Von plowed to a stop on a metal-plated ship, landing so hard that she skidded on all four paws for almost a quarter of the ship's length, digging furrows into the wooden deck and finally coming to a stop by knocking into one of the secondary masts.

The Skrill screeched again, someone close by yelled "kill it!" and something heavy thumped the deck, all within the span of two heartbeats. Von groaned and shook her head, and Maour hefted his scythe as she turned around.

Lightning flashed above the ship, but the Skrill flew out of range above, shrieking his momentarily impotent rage at them. The four-winged dragon was above him, watching. The rider couldn't be seen from below, but Maour knew they were still there.

"Go use your demon for somethin' useful!" a soldier yelled. Only the mention of a 'demon' clued Maour in to the fact that he was being yelled at; he couldn't even see the speaker, as all the soldiers on this ship were bustling around a trio of strange catapult-like contraptions and few were even looking his way.

'I didn't think there would be Skrill,' Von said angrily, shaking her head again. 'We should… I think that was one of the ones who took Toothless.'

"Skrill first, then the rider," Maour agreed. They'd never be able to focus on bringing down the rider while also fighting the Skrill, and the four-winged dragon was flying away, to some other part of the battlefield. "You up for this?"

"I never am," Von admitted, "but I'm more ready for this than anything else this entire trip. Let's bring him down." She snarled balefully at the Skrill – of course, Maour felt much the same – and threw herself into the air with far more force than was actually necessary.

"Come to die," the Skrill roared at them. He blasted a thick bolt of lightning their way, and Von was already rolling aside to dodge.

She didn't notice it, but Mour saw the lightning bolt arc over to strike the ship's metal hull to no effect. He noticed, and he fully intended for them to use it to their advantage if the opportunity came up. Whatever caused such a thing once would do so again, if the conditions were the same.

Von fired at the Skrill, and though he retaliated with another lightning blast, the distraction bought her enough time to get clear of the sparse forest of masts and most of the way to him. She darted to the side as he fired again, then popped a smaller, quicker shot against one of his back legs as she shot past.

He roared in anger yet again, but she was gone, headed toward the village. 'I can land, you get off, lure him in and you hit him from the side,' she hurriedly explained. 'Right?'

Maour paused for a breath, caught off guard. Von didn't usually make the plans, but it sounded good to him, even if it wasn't what he would have done.

He steeled himself to do what he would rather avoid. 'Yes, do it,'

O-O-O

Von had spent most of this miserable unexpected journey feeling inadequate, worried, or useless. She was afraid of a lot of things, many of which she didn't have a chance of affecting one way or another. She wasn't as fast, strong, or battle-hardened as Toothless or even Einfari; her best friend had only fought a Skrill once, but that was once more than Von could claim. She didn't think she was quite as clever as Maour.

But she wasn't helpless. She wasn't a weakling. She wasn't stupid or ignorant or oblivious. And her father had gone to great lengths to make sure that if she was ever in a fight for her life, she'd win.

She dodged the Skrill's latest round of lightning – it wasn't true lightning, it was neither instantaneous nor unpredictable, and there was a sound and feel to it that gave a bare minimum of warning – and propelled herself forward, gritting her teeth as she blasted right through the middle of a lingering explosive cloud a heartbeat before the Zippleback responsible set it alight. It exploded behind her, obscuring her from the Skrill's seeking gaze long enough for her to drop down onto one of the larger piles of stone that marked a former building on the outskirts of the village.

'I will lead him back here,' she suggested to Maour as he dismounted. There were skirmishes happening all around them, dragons swooping in to challenge the pockets of resistance using the buildings and ruins as cover. The human side was far more organized and supplied than they might appear to the attacking dragons – Von had the advantage of having seen them setting up these 'spontaneous' points of resistance long before nightfall – but it was chaos nonetheless, if a more even-sided chaos.

"Careful," Maour told her. "Don't do anything… reckless."

She wasn't reckless, she was angry and afraid and ready to do something. That didn't mean she was going to be stupid about it, though she supposed Maour was justified in worrying. She didn't usually want to throw herself into a fight like this.

But it was something she could do, something she could handle. Einfari had killed a Skrill, not on her own, but Von wasn't even close to on her own here, so it was close enough. Von had been taught just as well by her own father, if not better. She could do this, and she wanted to see that Skrill die. He had kidnapped her brother and Einn and hurt them and was helping attack people even now. He was the source of everything she hated about this entire affair, the reason she was here and feeling useless in the first place.

She leaped up onto one of the intact buildings and roared, then leaped back down into the narrow, war-torn streets. The Skrill screeched and blasted the rooftop she had just been on, then the street she had jumped into, but she was already gone.

She turned a corner and saw two soldiers netting a wild – in every sense of the word – Gronckle, struggling to hold it down as it thrashed and bulled about trying to break free. She didn't stop to help them, stopping was more likely to get them struck by lightning than anything, and her with them, but she did use the Gronckle's head as a springboard, jumping on and letting her unexpected weight crack his head against the ground before leaping off again.

There were more scattered skirmishes, small groups of soldiers fighting off dragons, and occasionally armored dragons fighting their unarmored counterparts one on one, but the tight paths and winding corridors of the mingled standing and collapsed stone buildings kept all of the individual conflicts separated, out of sight of each other and disconnected from the main battle going on over the armada.

Von's own 'one on one' battle was not nearly so direct. The Skrill seemed to have lost track of her after that final lightning strike, but she didn't believe that for a moment. She took a circuitous route around the outskirts of the village, trying to keep close to where Maour was lying in wait without making it obvious. She kept one eye on the sky as often as possible, as befitting someone fleeing pursuit from above.

Her watchful gaze caught a flash of flickering light up on one of the tallest still-standing buildings ahead of her, and she ducked behind a massive stone just before a bolt of lightning struck the ground behind her, lancing right over her cover. It wasn't as strong as any of the previous shots, and the spray of dirt against her flanks was relatively tame.

Unlike in storms, when the weather was fair, Skrill had limited firepower. Just like her. And this one had burned through enough of his allotment that he was beginning to conserve the rest, while she had only used one or two shots so far, though she couldn't remember for sure whether it was one or two, exactly.

'Running and hiding, dumping your diminutive master at the first sign of trouble,' the Skrill drawled, leaping down into the street. 'I hoped for more of a challenge.'

Von ventured out from behind the rock – cover was only good at a distance, and if the Skrill came too close it would only slow her reactions to be hiding behind a rock – and quickly jumped back as another moderately strong bolt of lightning struck where she would have been.

'Stop that and face me,' the Skrill snarled.

Von came out once more, still ready to leap away at the first sign of lightning collecting in the Skrill's maw. She was faster than him and they both knew it, so when he refrained from trying again it was no surprise.

They faced each other, several dozen paces apart in a ruined street made narrow by the occasional jumble of broken stone. He was just as large and intimidating as he had been in the air, and she could feel the absence of a reassuring weight on her back. But she hadn't been taught for years to fight with a passenger, so that was just as well.

'I–' the Skrill began, undoubtedly intending to say something about how he was going to win. Von cut him off the moment she heard him begin to speak, leaping forward and building up a heavy blast in her throat for the heartbeat it took him to react. He reared back and shifted his posture to grapple her, anticipating that she would be stupid enough to bull-rush him.

She had no desire to wrestle a dragon who tended to have little bolts of lightning arcing across his body at random. Instead, she got as close as she dared, running at full tilt, and opened her mouth to fire. The blast she'd built up left her in an instant, crossing the rapidly narrowing distance between them just as quickly, and detonated on his chest, throwing him back and hopefully breaking more than a few ribs.

She ran by him even as he tumbled back into a pile of rubble, ducking to the side as he threw out a clumsily-aimed talon from his place sprawled back in the rubble. She could have jumped him and tried to tear his throat out – she remembered that being how Einfari had killed a Skrill – but she might be shocked if she tried, and she had no backup here.

There was a plan, and she stuck to it. The Skrill roared angrily and thumped the ground behind her as he righted himself. 'Get back here and fight,' he screeched, blasting at her with more lightning. She had already swerved to put rubble between the two of them, so she didn't even bother dodging. The resulting explosion echoed behind her and did nothing more than make her flinch.

He followed her on the ground, either unwilling to fly and risk losing her, or incapable of it depending on how badly she had hurt him. He gradually lost ground, but not enough that she needed to slow to keep him in pursuit.

Maour's rubble pile came into view, directly ahead, but Von didn't know where within it he was hiding, or how he meant to come out and strike. She hedged her bets and ran around it, stopping at the far side.

'Running, hiding, fleeing,' the Skrill hissed as he came closer, taking a left at Maour's pile of rubble, following her path exactly. His breathing was quick and irregular, and he sounded genuinely enraged, more so than before. 'I'll break your legs and wings just so you cannot run anymore.'

Von couldn't see him except as a flash of dark scales in between chunks of stone and the odd bit of decomposing wood, so she didn't know exactly how it happened, but one moment he was ranting and coming closer, and the next–

The Skrill shrieked and flashed with sudden light, so bright Von could see it reflected off their surroundings. A more human yell had her leaping over the rubble pile and rejoining the fight, landing atop a tilted piece of stone and leaping in with claws outstretched.

She hit the Skrill from the side, digging her claws into his chest even as he pulsed with more lightning and made her body clench involuntarily. Maour was there too, his scythe with a spike digging into the Skrill's neck at a shallow angle, and her impact knocked him free, leaving his scythe there.

The Skrill pulled away as her claws sought to part scale and flesh, and she had to retreat as he twisted down to bite at her wings. He retreated until his tail hit the side of a tent, and then stumbled to a stop as the canvas got tangled around it.

She, for her part, took the momentary reprieve to step between Maour and the Skrill while he got to his feet. He was twitching, more outwardly affected by the pulsing shocks than she was, and weaponless, but still he stood.

Dark blood dripped to the ground, seemingly black in front of the irregular white flashes of power that rippled across the Skrill's body. His chest was bleeding, his breathing was obviously pained, and a stream of blood was flowing down his stout neck to mingle with that from his chest.

'Usurpers should all burn,' he spit out, holding himself defensively. 'Whether it is one of mine doing the killing… or not. Die screaming.'

Von readied herself for the final assault. Skrill did not give up, not even when they were losing. She knew that, everyone knew that. His words spoke of retreat, but he wouldn't follow through. Her father had taught her that, and Einfari had confirmed it. If they could restrain themselves to fights they could win, they'd never attack outside of a thunderstorm.

Sure enough, he surged forward, his wings out and lightning leaping from his maw. She fired, intercepting the bolt in a flameless explosion between them, crouching over Maour to shield him–

The Skrill passed over her, his tail slapping at her face he was so close, and then he was up in the air. She whirled around, ready for the turnaround and strike–

'Speak a word of my failure and I will do my best to gut your toy,' the Skrill snarled as he fled.

"Okay…" Maour groaned as he ran as best as he could through his cramps to hastily retrieve his scythe. As he crouched to pick it up, he looked back across the street at Von with a raised eyebrow. "Why does–?"

A four-winged bulk passed the Skrill in a close arc. 'Understood,' the four-winged dragon snarled. 'But I'd kill you for it if you tried.'

The rider remained silent, even as their dragon dropped down to land between Von and Maour.

O-O-O

Maour clutched the haft of his scythe, willing his hands to stop shaking. Even brief contact with the Skrill had put him down, and they were lucky he and Von had hurt the Skrill enough to get him to retreat.

It was decidedly less lucky that he had tagged in somebody else to finish the job. If that was what they were planning on doing.

The dragon rider walked down the four-winged dragon's upper wing like it was a steady ramp. They were slim of build, with overlapping armor hiding anything more definitive than that. When they reached the ground, the four-winged dragon pulled his wings in and growled at Von. His back was to Maour, which would have been a really stupid mistake to make, if the rider wasn't slowly stalking toward him.

"I'd rather not fight you," Maour said loudly. The rider's staff didn't look like that formidable of a weapon, but it mostly depended on the skill of the person using it. The way they walked, stiff and halting, was more intimidating than the weapon or the mask.

'Let us cut you down without resistance, then,' the four-winged dragon retorted.

'I prefer living,' Von huffed warily. 'We just wanted to talk.'

'Those who side with the invader do not intend to talk,' was the retort.

'We're only here with him to find you,' Von lied. 'Come on, Skrill hate me on sight, but you have no reason to feel the same way.'

The rider, as Maour was coming to expect, said nothing and gave no indication that they could even hear the conversation going on around them.

'You are a Usurper, your words are poison,' the four-winged dragon growled. 'No more!'

The rider might not have been able to understand the exchange going on behind them, but they took that final growl for the call to action that it was. Maour stepped back to avoid the oblong end of the staff as it swung through where his head had been a moment ago, then raised his scythe to block the return strike. "Okay, then. Fighting it is."

The rider jabbed forward, but he flicked his scythe to the side and redirected the strike, then drove the upper spike down toward their arm, narrowly missing as they stepped to the side. With lightning-fast strokes, they danced around each other with strike and counterstrike, him taking full advantage of his dual blades, and them moving like the staff was an extension of their body. Each swing cut through the air, and some of the more arcing movements produced a strangely loud rattling from the flat end.

Behind them, Von and the much larger four-winged dragon fought, though it was mostly Von dodging and clawing at whatever appendage had been meant to crack her skull open, over and over again. Maour couldn't spare much concentration, but he got the impression that the two dragons were at a very dangerous stalemate. He wanted to go over and help, but he was much closer to a stalemate of his own than he would have liked.

The rider stepped to the side and did their best to break his knee with a sneaky strike, but he twisted his scythe and stepped with them, letting the staff glance off his side in exchange for the chance to cut across the rider's arm with the blade of his scythe. They stepped back and blocked, but he pressed forward to jab from the other direction, bringing the other spike up even as he twisted their staff away yet again.

His blade bit into armor just below the shoulder, and he shoved hard enough to make them stagger, cutting deeper. The rider grunted and jerked away, disengaging, but not fast enough. The purple blade came out of the armor with a heavy coating of blood, and the rider's left arm hung useless. They were good, but he had practiced with everyone on the Isle for years.

The rider held their staff – he still couldn't tell whether they were male or female, much less anything else about them – loosely in their right hand. He advanced, still wary, intending to disable their other arm and then maybe have a proper conversation at spike-point. Either they'd cooperate then, or he'd have a prisoner for Drago to fulfill his side of the bargain and secure passage to the ice nest.

The rider swung their staff backwards, the same strange rattle coming from it, then swept it down until it hit the ground, producing a double-beat of wood hitting dirt and then wood hitting wood.

'Look out!' Von yelped, a heartbeat before an inferno of billowing red flames instantly swept across the entire area, flowing from where Von and the four-winged dragon had been.

Maour fell to the ground, frantically covering his head with his arms. His armor was reasonably fireproof, but he wasn't wearing a helmet! The flames washed over him like a tidal wave, intolerable heat setting in. His face was pressed to the ground, but that wouldn't be enough–

The flood of flames dissipated with a heavy gust of wind, and then a blessedly cold tongue all but smacked him across the back of the head. He rolled over, uncovering his face, and bore the smothering attack of wet tongue there, too, before getting a proper breath of air.

Von was licking him – of course, he didn't expect any of the other dragons on this battlefield to do such a thing – and the four-winged dragon was flying away, presumably with his enigmatic rider in tow.

'Your hair was burning,' Von told him as he sat up. 'And your face looks bad.'

"I wasn't even burnt, I'd say it looks a lot better than it could," he said wearily. "They're gone?"

'That big idiot just turned and burned the both of you with no warning,' Von explained. 'Maybe he was mad that he only hit me once. Then he swept his wings and grabbed his rider, and I was too busy making sure you weren't on fire to stop him.'

"Not no warning," Maour groaned, finally putting two and two together. "The staff, it makes noises… They've got signals." It was a dirty trick, but one he'd only fall for once… And on the whole, it seemed like he and Von were more than a match for the rider and their dragon. Or maybe it was the dragon and their rider, based on how the Skrill had talked and how the rider didn't talk.

'Well, that won't work twice,' Von growled. She looked unusually fierce, with little splatters of blood streaked across her face and dripping from her claws. She limped around him–

"He hit you once?" Maour asked, seeing the limp but not seeing what was hurt.

'Clipped me on the base-fins,' Von huffed, turning around to show him her right hip fin. It was crumpled inward, alarmingly so. 'He hits hard, with so much weight behind him… I don't know if it's broken or not.'

"I'll look at it…" He stood and looked around, then up. The fight was very much still in full swing, but he didn't think Von was up for chasing the rider down. Or the Skrill, for that matter. "Let's find somewhere to take shelter first."

They were out of the fight for now, but next time, he'd be ready. The rider wasn't a match for him. It was close, but he was better. And it didn't seem like they'd be able to reach any sort of peaceful agreement. He would not let them flee next time.

O-O-O

Ruffnut ducked so fast her borrowed helmet fell off, which was fine by her as the Nadder quill sticking out the front totally ruined the look she had been going for. Clever, skilled combatants didn't walk around with proof that only some hack of a blacksmith had saved them from an involuntary brain-tap.

A second Nadder quill embedded itself in the deck by her feet, and she scowled as she yanked her net away before it could get tangled.

"Hold 'im steady!" Eret yelled as he and two of his crew scrambled over the thrashing dragon. "Net!"

Ruffnut obligingly threw the net over all four of them, men and dragon alike, and ran over to begin securing the sides to some of the many handy rings embedded in the deck at regular intervals for just such a purpose. She was alone in doing so; the rest of the crew was busy pointing crossbows at the sky and making sure they'd only have to deal with one dragon at a time.

There were plenty to go around; the clouds above reflected red and backlit many, many swarming figures in the air. More than there had been when the Nadder flew too low and was brought down, more by a long shot; either they'd gotten reinforcements, or all the ones tearing up the village were taking to the sky again.

"Done!" Ruffnut yelled, straining to be heard over the sound of the Nadder's frantic screeching, barely muffled by one of Eret's men wrapped bodily around her beak. The net was secured at all four corners, tacked down so flat that the Nadder wouldn't even be able to roll over so long as everything held.

It was not, however, flush with the deck. Four more of Eret's crew – not that they all were his crew, some of the grunts from the ships around them had come over once a feisty Gronckle cracked a few too many skulls among Eret's lackeys – piled onto the net and efficiently took over holding the Nadder down so that the men under the net could disengage and crawl out. The Nadder couldn't follow, tangled and far too large as she was, and a leather strap was fastened around her beak.

Then one of the men bounced her head off the deck a few times, until her eyes fluttered shut. That was, apparently, the standard operating procedure of Drago's fleet. No dragon was considered dealt with until they were either dead, or captured and knocked out.

"Six!" Eret proclaimed, standing and straightening his tunic as he spoke. Ruffnut noticed that said tunic was little more than shredded rags from the waist up, undoubtedly from dealing with the Nadder's spines… He wasn't bleeding too badly, so she saw no reason to mention it when she could instead just enjoy the view.

"Six dragons ain't bad," one of his men agreed. They were unhooking the net now, bundling the Nadder more securely in it and dragging her below deck, to sit in the cages with the other five dragons Ruffnut had helped capture over the course of the battle. "We ain't got many more cages, actually…"

"Yes, ever since we refit the ship for combat capture," Eret agreed. "Six cells, maybe twelve dragons if we risk doubling up. Not going to be a problem, the attack has to be almost over."

Ruffnut looked to the sky again, and sure enough, the dragons were pulling back. It wasn't obvious, of course, many were still fighting or flying close enough to take a potshot if an opportunity presented itself, but the majority of them were putting more distance between the armada and themselves, not less.

"Could be a few more hits," one of the men who had come over to assist said doubtfully. "That blasted rider 'asn't been seen tonigh'."

"I haven't seen them yet, so that's no surprise," Eret grumbled. "But that Skrill that was deafening us all at the start is going, so there's that." He pointed at the sky.

Ruffnut looked, but without the obvious sign of lightning flashing, she couldn't tell which of the retreating shapes was supposed to be a Skrill. If it was retreating, that meant Von and Maour had almost certainly torn it a new one, but not well enough to kill it… They were probably fine, Maour would have tried to focus on the mysterious dragon rider, anyway.

"I'd like to hit seven captures tonight, if we could," Eret said thoughtfully. "Drago pays a good bounty for anything over five in a single fight, and I'm sure you'll all want your cut." He nodded to the assisting soldiers.

"You bet your bleeding ribs we do," one said dryly. "But they're going for good now, so you'll pay us from the six we got."

"Bleeding ribs?" Eret looked down at the shallow cuts lining his torso. "Oh, that. Just a scratch."

Ruffnut would have preferred he consider it serious enough to seek medical attention; she'd have leaped at the chance. But instead, he just pulled his tunic tight enough to staunch the meager bloodflow – and hide his chest, much to her chagrin – and said no more about it.

"Whose gonna be the unlucky sap to take the cages to the cell ship and make sure they know who they're from?" somebody asked. "I'm not doin' it."

"I'll do it!" Ruffnut volunteered. Now that the fight was all but over, she was beginning to wonder about the half-dozen dragons she had helped trap… She'd like an excuse to stick her nose in and learn what was going to be done with them. Worst-case scenario, she might need to pick some locks and set some dragons free. Or, best-case scenario, she'd do Eret a favor and get her own cut of the reward. There were a few merchants sitting around on that 'visitor' boat hawking their wares, and she'd seen a nice spear…

Author's Note:  This chapter was surprisingly hard to write. Usually, fight scenes are relatively easy to do, at least for me. This one fought back, tooth and nail, until I hit upon giving Von a more active role. As it turns out, depicting a dragon and rider who  aren't  necessarily used to working together in a fight really limits what I can realistically have them do or communicate in the heat of battle.

But I expect no such issues with next chapter; both parts of it involve scenes I've been waiting the entire story to write...

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Green flames lit the island and the armada beyond it, dots of light that were easily distinguishable as 'safe' by their color. The reds and oranges of dragon-lit flames were gone, beaten into submission the moment the raiding dragons fled. The ships used water, but the village used dirt, and under different circumstances Von wouldn't have cared beyond that. She was standing in the middle of a dirt street, where there was nothing to burn and thus nothing to put out.

Her hip-fin twinged uncomfortably, and she held back a yelp. She set her gaze on one of the dirt-tossing brigades combatting the last big flare-up, a muddled mess of tents that a few Nightmares had thoroughly doused in their signature liquid flames. An armored Gronckle was ferrying the dirt back and forth, dumping a big barrel wherever his rider indicated. Said rider was stuck on the ground by the blaze, so as to not weigh down–

Her fin spasmed again as deft fingers failed to be deft enough, and she yelped before she could stop herself.

"Sorry!" Maour said, though he didn't stop prodding and gingerly pulling at where membrane met hip. "Does it still hurt now?"

"It aches," she said. "But not like anything is broken." She didn't want it to be broken; she needed to fly, and while Night Furies healed quickly, she might not heal quickly enough. Maour needed her, Toothless needed her, everyone needed her to be useful. She couldn't be grounded, not now.

"I think it's just bruised," Maour said, wiping away her fears before they could really set in. "There are a few tiny cuts in the membrane, but those will go away in a matter of days if you just take it easy. So no flying for… two days, let's say. I'll check again then."

"Good thing we're down here in the village, and not up there," Von grumbled, tossing her head in the direction of the rocky cliffs that butted up against the village on one side. She had considered trying to fly up there after the Skill and the dragon rider fled, so as to be in a more easily defended position, but it just hadn't seemed worth the effort.

"Yeah…" He stood, patting her side reassuringly. "You're fine, it's a minor injury."

'Not like what we gave the Skrill and the rider,' she growled, clenching her claws. She had gone in hoping the rider would turn out to be an ally, but that wasn't happening, so she was glad Maour had landed a good hit on them before they fled. She hadn't done much of note to the four-winged dragon. At least there was a chance the Skrill would die from blood loss or disease…

She wasn't used to feeling so bloodthirsty, but it was good to know her enemies were hurt worse than her.

A large figure loomed in the shadows cast by the dying tent fire. Bulky, cloaked, and with tangled hair that looked to Von more like a pile of small snakes than anything a human would want on their head… She recognized Drago from Maour's meeting with him.

He turned away from the Gronckle and rider. She was a good hundred paces away, but she still felt his gaze snapping to her immediately, shadows and the darkness of the lingering night notwithstanding.

She saw him flinch, turning his shrouded shoulder toward her. It was far from an unusual reaction to her existence, but coming from him it was ominous. Especially as he was walking toward her now.

'Maour, Drago is coming,' she warned her brother. 'He does not look happy.'

"I've yet to see him happy, so that doesn't necessarily mean anything," Maour assured her. He stepped away from her fin and retrieved his scythe. It was in the locked position, and he made no move to unlock it, but she knew he would be ready to do so if needed.

"Is the beast under control?" Drago yelled from afar.

"Yeah, you're safe!" Maour yelled back. "And overly cautious," he added under his breath. "Would I be standing here if you weren't safe?"

'I am not safe,' Von objected. 'It is smart of him to understand that.'

"What did you do to the rider?" Drago asked as he came closer.

"Put a blade in their shoulder, through the armor," Maour reported. "They're good with that staff, but not good enough. The Skrill put a hole in our plans, though. Could have done with some advance warning on that."

"Skrill are just another kind of dragon," Drago said dismissively. "Dangerous, but not unmanageable."

"They… You know what, nevermind," Maour said, cutting himself off for no apparent reason. "We should have known. Next time, we'll be expecting a Skrill interruption."

"Next time you will need to anticipate several," Drago said. He came to a stop well out of lunging distance, his blunt face shadowed and impassive. "You bloodied the rider. They will not take that lightly. It has never happened before."

"Will the next time be at another village like this?" Maour asked, gesturing to the ruins all around them. "You predicted this attack well in advance."

"The rider is not predictable," Drago said gravely. "They can be anticipated, but only in broad strokes, and never reliably. This place was one push away from total destruction, and we both knew it. I know not what they will do next, now that you have hurt them. But it may not matter."

"How so?" Maour asked.

Drago eyed Von suspiciously. She opened her mouth just enough to give him a glimpse of her teeth.

"I will tell you when you need to know," Drago said. "You accomplished the task I set out for you here. I am… pleased. Keep your beast under control, and I will remain pleased."

"Keep your end of the deal, and I'll be pleased," Maour retorted.

"Quite." Drago looked away from them, toward where the armada was anchored. "We leave at dawn. Be ready."

"We will," Maour agreed.

Drago backed away, never turning his back on them. On another human Von might have thought that funny, but the deep distrust in his dark eyes was unsettling. It was the sort of distrust that stemmed from something and might yet turn into something less benign than a healthily fearful respect for her kind.

"I didn't think telling him that Skrill all hate Night Furies was a good idea," Maour said quietly. "Who knows what he'd do with that information."

'Good idea,' Von huffed. Drago might be working with them, tolerating her presence, but she didn't think that was a stable arrangement. Best he didn't know that Skrill shared or surpassed his dislike of Night Furies. They had enough problems with Skrill as things were.

O-O-O

The trek across the village and down to the armada was slow and tiring. Crossing the armada to get to the ship they were staying on was even more so; Von was thankful Maour was the one who had to do all the talking to get the necessary gangplanks lowered for her. She was able to stand in the background, keep a wary eye on everything, and stifle her yawns in relative peace.

Drago's armada functioned with an ease born of experience, a pattern that her presence did little to disrupt. Cages were being dragged around, tarps were being tossed over them, and captive dragons – most still unconscious – were everywhere. Some of the larger, metallic ships at the back of the fleet seemed to be the final destination of all the cages being moved around, but no two sets of cages were coming from the same place or taking the same path there.

They made it to the visitor ship they slept on without any major incidents, though Maour was slumping even as he walked by the time they got there. Von was ready to collapse on the floor of their cabin, shove Ruffnut aside if she was taking up the good spot, and sleep for a week.

The armored Nadder that dropped down onto the deck in front of her dashed those meager aspirations quickly enough. It was not the same one she had spoken to before, sporting pale white and pink scales under the usual dark armor. 'You agreed to meet our leader the night after making landfall,' the Nadder remarked. 'I am to take you there now.'

'I'm stuck on my paws for a few days, and it's late,' Von objected. 'Can we meet some other night?'

'The next chance to speak directly to him will not come for some time,' the Nadder warned. 'It is inconvenient, but if you could ditch your human rider and follow, I can lead you there on talon.'

"Man, I'm tired," Maour announced, casting Von a meaningful look. "If you want to wander around a bit, go ahead.'

She wasn't totally exhausted… 'I'll come,' she conceded. 'But I want to be back here before the fleet sets out again, and I don't know when that will be.' She wouldn't be separated from Maour.

'Easily arranged, they cannot leave until midday.' The Nadder leaped across to the next ship over with a flutter of her wings. Von followed, pushing her flagging strength into the jump so that she didn't have to convince someone to let a gangplank down for her.

"I'll be watching," Maour said. He was, of course, with her in mind if not body. "Just in case. I don't get the impression they'd have let me come if I asked, otherwise I would have."

'They didn't let me come along when you met Drago, so it is only fair,' she murmured. She was meeting the leader of the dragons, after all. He had to be at least a close second to Drago. The busy sailors and soldiers she and the Nadder were passing barely gave the Nadder a second glance, despite its lack of a rider.

She definitely got a lot of second glances, and quite a few outright stares or muttered curses, but obediently following the Nadder across the ships seemed to calm most of the people who noticed her. They were used to dragons occasionally roaming about unsupervised, so long as those dragons were clearly on their side. She supposed she counted, after tonight's battle.

She was tired, and the trip across the ships was an exhausting series of jumps and occasional walks across hastily-lowered planks, either of which could land her in the water if she slipped up or misjudged the distance. She was sorely tempted to try flying despite Maour's warning. Only the possibility of grounding herself for longer held her wings to her back… and only for the time being. If something went wrong in this meeting with the leader of the dragons, she'd throw caution to the wind and fly away.

The Nadder led her all the way across the Armada, to the pair of metal-plated ships that all the dragon cages had been brought to. That was winding down, only a few stragglers still busy hauling their catches across, and the decks were veritably covered in tarp-draped cages.

Von shivered as the Nadder led her down an aisle between the rows of cages, toward the tall cabin jutting out from the deck near the back of the ship. It felt wrong to be idly walking by so many trapped dragons, even if they were her enemies.

They went around the cabin, out to the very back of the ship. The ocean behind this particular ship was clear, a dark expanse under the cloudy sky. The deck was empty, and the ship's position in the formation meant that they were standing in what might be the only blind spot the armada as a whole possessed. There were not even any dragons in the air to see them from above.

It was the perfect place for an ambush… or a clandestine meeting. She wished she could be certain which she had just walked into.

'No humans see us here,' the Nadder said sharply. 'Ours are busy or distracted. Yours is oblivious.'

"Or so they think," Maour said in her ear. "Now, let's see what they're so keen to keep from the humans here…"

'You may meet our leader, our alpha,' the Nadder said primly, stepping back and bowing her head down to the deck.

The water began to bubble ominously a stone's throw from the back of the ship. A single spire of smooth material pierced the surface, mottled grey and white. As it rose Von had to repeatedly adjust her understanding of the pure size of the dragon it was attached to, going from normal to large to worryingly massive as the spike jutted further and further up.

Then a whole collection of spikes just broke the surface, and a massive blue eye barely peaked out from under the dark water. It was larger than Von herself, and she found her own eyes drawn to its piercing gaze.

'You need not fear me,' the same female Nadder said to Von.

"Queen," Maour all but hissed in her ear. "Talking through the Nadder, Von you need to run–"

Von whipped around to stare at the Nadder, though she kept one eye on the ashy grey and white bulk out in the water. 'What is this?' she demanded.

It was possible that the Nadder was actually the leader, she didn't want to believe that their new allies were under the paw of another slave-taking monster. And if they were… They needed eye contact to get her, and she was giving it to neither the Nadder nor the big dragon.

'Nothing that will endanger you,' the Nadder said quickly. 'Do you know why I speak for the leader?'

'You are the leader, speaking through her,' Von accused.

'If it helps, she is happy to assist me,' the Nadder said seriously. 'You know of me and mine already…'

The big bulk out in the water descended, waves lapping back over the spines as they withdrew.

'Does the removal of my gaze comfort you?' the Nadder asked, tilting her head curiously. 'Or the removal of my presence?'

Nothing visibly changed, save for the Nadder straightening up and shaking her wings out. 'I do not know what the leader wants me to say to assure you,' she added in a much more informal tone of voice, 'but it really is a privilege to help him. We keep him secret from most of the humans, just in case one of them decides to turn on us. Or if the rider sometimes walks among them and pretends to be on their side. The stupid ones cannot reveal what they never knew to begin with.'

"The Queen couldn't control Toothless and her own body at the same time," Maour muttered suspiciously. Von got the impression that were she to check, she'd probably find him pacing around in their shared cabin, scowling at nothing. "We know that, and we just saw this big dragon move. If the same is true here then this Nadder is either telling the truth, too afraid to break character, or just under orders not to give the game away…"

'Why not tell me this before leading me here?' Von demanded. She wanted to believe that all of this was okay, but she wasn't going to let them convince her that easily. 'If you wanted me to feel safe, you would not have brought me here at all. He could have spoken to me at any time, through any of you.'

'In fact,' she added thoughtfully, 'for all I know I have never spoken to any dragon but him.' There was no way to know for certain, but it was entirely possible. The dragon she first spoke to when approaching the armada, the Nadder on the deck who first mentioned their leader, this Nadder here as she was escorted over, they all could have been their leader speaking through them to coerce Von to do what he wanted.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the Nadder. 'Even now. You never said anything while he was moving.'

'You know much of my limits,' the Nadder growled. She tilted her head again, a visual tic Von took to mean she was not speaking for herself anymore. The choice of words helped her notice the change, too. 'I did not think you would, as you flew here of your own free will. Had I known, I would not have brought you here, for fear of giving you the wrong impression.'

'No, I think I am glad to know exactly what I am dealing with here,' Von snarled. 'You will not take me. Ever.'

'I will not try,' the Nadder said. 'I was going to ask you to join me, as I have many others, but the key part of that is that I would have asked. If you are bothered by following me, then you may refuse.'

'I refuse,' Von said immediately. 'And I am never changing my mind, no matter what is said or done.'

'Then we will speak no more of that,' the Nadder agreed. 'You would not be the first to refuse, and you will not be the last, not even tonight. I hold no grudge, though it is a grievous loss to be turned down by one such as yourself for no reason other than a wariness that I do not consider warranted when applied to myself.'

"Fancy words for someone trying to guilt-trip you into reconsidering," Maour said disapprovingly. "But if he's serious… Ask more about how it works for other dragons."

'And if I were not one such as myself, would you speak to me with such politeness after I refused you?' Von demanded, though if it were up to her she'd have said something equally polite and fled. Maour did have a point, she had asked, but she would rather not continue this nerve-wracking conversation.

'Why not stay and see?' the Nadder offered. 'All of these unfortunate captives we have obtained tonight will be given the choice before the sun has risen. Some will join me, some will not, and if you return tomorrow night you will see exactly what happens to all.'

'I just might do that,' Von said. She was curious now, though she'd definitely be going somewhere out of sight if she stayed. All of the captives were locked in cages, and the humans would surely notice a massive dragon rising out of the sea to stare at them…

The Nadder hopped away, going back around the cabin to the cage-lined front of the ship. Von glanced nervously back at the innocent-looking ocean, then jumped up, digging her claws into the wood and metal structure of the cabin. It was a multi-storied thing with a few slit windows, and between the metal ledges and wooden stretches she had no trouble scaling it in a matter of moments.

The top of the cabin was a disappointingly slanted bit of slick metal, and she had to set herself in the exact middle to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of slowly sliding down toward the far edge, but she could see the front of the ship, and beyond it the rest of the armada.

"Sunrise is coming," Maour remarked. "Whatever he's going to do, it's going to be fast and totally unremarkable, if he doesn't think any humans will notice anything amiss. I wonder what they think they've brought all these caged dragons here for."

'I wonder if they're as stupid as he seems to think they are,' Von murmured. She saw the Nadder stalking along the cage rows and tugging tarps off, lashing out with her tail and yanking them with practiced ease. The dragons within were all stirring, having long since slept off their defeat and capture…

"It occurs to me that Drago's men favor knocking dragons out while securing them," Maour said slowly. "And that doing so is how you free a dragon from a Queen's control. I don't know how much they know, or how much Drago knows, but it definitely isn't nothing."

'I don't like what that implies,' Von said uneasily. 'Maour, do you think there's another Queen out there? In the ice nest?'

'Now that we know there is one here, there has to be one out there,' Maour said grimly. "Otherwise there wouldn't be a fight at all."

O-O-O

The Nadder was coming, yanking tarps off of cages as it went. Ruffnut despised the sort of do-gooder efficiency it was employing, doing every cage without fail and without being distracted. She preferred the easily-avoided human blunderers that most of the armada employed to do the menial tasks.

But this was apparently a no-human zone; she hadn't seen a single soldier set foot on this ship since the last of them left after delivering the cages. She had hung back, draping herself in the tarp hanging off one of the larger cages, ignored the content snoring of the morbidly obese Gronckle trapped within, and waited to see what was next.

Getting caught by a busybody Nadder was not what she had expected, and she wasn't planning on letting it happen. The cage she was hiding by was close to the overly elaborate cabin of the ship, and all the cages between her and there were still covered. The moment the Nadder stopped her efficient march to disentangle a tarp from where it had snagged on a bit of warped metal, Ruffnut moved.

Out from under the tarp, back behind the next cage in line, and then past the half-dozen cages between her and the ship's cabin. She hit the forebodingly large door with a muted thump, then belatedly grabbed at the handle and pulled.

The old Thorston luck came through for her, and the door came without any resistance, proving once again that all the security in the world would never stop a determined infiltrator so long as idiots forgot to lock things. She slipped inside, closed the door, and took in her new hiding spot.

It was a totally boring, totally dark cabin. There were stairs leading downward, and that was something she intended on investigating, but there was still the question of what the Nadder was taking all the tarps off for… Many of the dragons were grumbling or roaring, there was no point in getting them riled up if nothing else was going to happen.

The Nadder stripped the last tarp off, a bare dozen steps away from Ruffnut's barely-cracked door, and fluttered back to the front of the ship.

'You are confused!' the Nadder announced, so loudly that every dragon listening heard her. Whatever she might lack in slacking capabilities, she at least had a good set of lungs on her. Ruffnut approved.

'Let us go!' someone bellowed. A rising chorus of less defiantly-put pleas followed him.

'Listen to me and you will have your freedom when I am done speaking,' the Nadder declared. 'Those who do not listen may not, though.'

A sullen silence dropped over the ship like a smothering blanket.

The Nadder began pacing down the lines of cages, eyeing each and every prisoner as she passed them. She made a full circuit in silence, returning to the front of the ship before she spoke again.

'You are confused,' she repeated. 'You were told many terrible things about what we do to those we capture. That we kill them, or that we torture and enslave them. None of this is true. You were enslaved–'

Some of the caged dragons snarled at her, while others didn't react. Ruffnut would give this speaker points for keeping an audience's attention if she didn't have them all in cages to start with.

'Or you lived in that ice nest of your own volition, and simply accepted the leadership of your alpha, it matters not to me,' the Nadder concluded. 'Now, you are all free to make another choice, or to make your first choice.'

'You may leave,' she said, moving with sharp, jerky motions. She flicked her tail at the sky, and at the line of glimmering light growing on the horizon. 'To go back to the ice nest, or to go elsewhere and be free of this fight entirely. Or you may stay and fight to free the rest of the ice nest.'

'If you stay,' she continued after a short pause, 'I will be just as strict about you following orders as your previous alpha was. You will fight with us, and you will cooperate with the humans, not as their thralls, but to use them as you already do. I will not allow you to rebel against myself or the human leader. Once the enemy alpha in the ice nest is defeated, I will release you entirely. Or you can choose not to join us, and fly free instead.'

Ruffnut wondered whether the dragons would actually be allowed to leave. She didn't remember Eret saying anything about what Drago did with his captured dragons, but he didn't seem the type to placidly watch some of them fly away of their own accord.

'Each of you will be brought to the back of the ship tomorrow night,' the Nadder concluded. 'You will be asked for your decision then. Think long and hard about whether you are willing to leave your friends and family trapped in that ice nest, and about whether what you have seen done there strikes you as the work of a good alpha, now that you are free to consider it. Consider whether your former alpha gave you such a choice instead of simply claiming you for a lifetime of serving his whims.'

The armored Nadder flew away, leaving many cages with many confused dragons. Some of them struck up conversations, while others sat in sullen silence.

They were from the ice nest, one and all… The same ice nest Toothless and Einn and the Skrills were sitting around at.

"Time for an interrogation," Ruffnut said to herself, leaning back from the door to crack her knuckles. Sure, her presence would probably cause an uproar, but she could talk to them and they could talk back. At least one of them would want to tell her all about the Skrill and their Night Fury captives–

A Night Fury jumped down and approached the nearest cage. 'Tell me about my kin at your nest,' she demanded of the Nightmare in the cage.

"Or not," Ruffnut grumbled. "Thanks a lot, Von." It would probably be easier for Von to get the full story… She wouldn't have to deal with the obligatory 'I am a human and I talk like you' explanation, at least.

Besides, there was still a foreboding ship's interior to explore. It wasn't like Ruffnut had nothing to do. If she was lucky, she'd find the mead storage down those stairs. Eret couldn't object to a drunken party if she supplied the stuff to get drunk with…

O-O-O

Toothless knew little about being drunk, all of his limited knowledge on the subject from Maour's off-handed comments, but he was under the impression that it dulled the mind and maybe dulled pain, or made it easier to ignore.

He would very much have liked to be drunk right about now, if that was how it worked, impaired judgment notwithstanding. It wasn't like he'd be making any big decisions today. Or any decisions at all, given he'd need a capable, non-broken body to do anything.

Tolerable dropped him to the ground with no consideration for his injuries, and he collapsed bonelessly with a yelp. His everything hurt, save for his wings, tailfin, and hip-fins. He knew he was supposed to take those being left untouched as a warning, but compared to the rest of his body it was hard to see it as anything other than an unintended mercy.

His legs were all injured, ranging from bruised to broken, but he forced himself to limp on the less-pained ones. He collapsed again near the pond, worn out, and took several mouthfuls of water.

He would just… stay here. At least for today. No need to move until midday, when their painfully small portion of fish would be delivered…

He could see now how the others had grown so downtrodden and unmotivated. With time, and maybe another failed escape attempt or two, he might find himself similarly sapped of his drive to escape. He was going to have to emulate Einn for a while if he wanted to heal, and once he was healed it would be easy to just continue to do nothing.

'I don't feel like telling jokes today,' Grey said. She was nowhere to be seen, using their link to speak to him, and he assumed that she had crawled to her usual hiding spot.

He felt bad about not thinking of her before now; she was not quite so badly injured as him – neither was Star, for that matter, but when he looked over at her she and Hefnd both gave him such a glare that he hastily looked away. But it was Grey that he really felt responsible for.

'How are you?' he asked quietly.

'I don't want to make jokes,' Grey repeated sadly. 'I don't… feel good. I haven't felt this bad in a long time.'

'I'm so sorry,' he whined. 'I got you into this.'

'It was fun to believe…' she said. 'But now you'll be broken and mean like them.'

'What?' he asked. He didn't quite see why she had made that leap…

Or maybe he did. She was worried he'd grow bitter and push her away. Maybe that had happened with Hefnd and Star. Surely they'd both tried to escape at least once since being trapped here.

It was tempting, wallowing in his own pain and disappointment, but he wasn't going to. He was just letting himself sulk for a while.

'Next time I'll have a better plan,' he assured her.

'There will be a next time?' She sounded genuinely surprised.

'Of course, there will be a next time,' he told her. 'I'm not going to let a beating put me off escape forever. This is just a setback.'

'It hurts, though,' Grey whined.

'It does, and I am not saying otherwise,' he rumbled reassuringly 'But that doesn't mean we're done. It just means we have to wait until we've healed to try again.'

'I don't know if I want to try again,' she admitted.

'Then I'll do it myself and come back for you,' he replied. 'I am not going to leave and never return if I do get away.'

'Promise?' she asked quietly.

'I promise.' He didn't know what kind of person he'd be if he left any of the Furies here. 'But I'd rather escape with you.'

What might have been a touching moment was ruined by a loud bark from Hefnd just as Toothless finished speaking. 'If all that muttering to yourself means you are crazy, do us a favor and be crazy away from our drinking water.'

'I am no crazier than I was yesterday,' Toothless barked back.

'So the answer is yes,' Hefnd snorted. 'I guess you'll be trying again soon… It will take a few more beatings to get rid of that much stupidity.'

He looked to Star, maybe hoping for her to say something snide, but she was sprawled out on her side and paid them no attention at all. Toothless would be hard-pressed to say whether she or Einn looked more out of it on this particular day… though from the few injuries he could see, Star had gotten off surprisingly lightly. Bruises and cuts, but not nearly as many as he was currently trying to ignore on himself, and as far as he could tell she hadn't any broken limbs.

Stupid,' Hefnd snorted. 'Both of you. There is no way to escape. If there was, I would have gotten out of here years ago.'

A retort came to mind, something about how Einn had gotten out and Hefnd was still here, but Toothless held his tongue. If he made Hefnd mad, there was nothing stopping the other male from walking over and adding to his injuries. Best to let him have the last word.

'I… am not sure I want to try to escape again,' Grey said in his ear, reminding him of what they had been talking about prior to Hefnd's interruption. 'But I can help you plan?'

'Of course,' he rumbled, taking care to keep his voice barely audible to himself. 'Our first plan did not work out… Want to go over what went wrong?' When something he and Maour made failed, the first thing to do was to find out why. The same applied to plans.

'I got us caught,' Grey sighed.

'Well, yes, but that came after our plan failed,' Toothless corrected. 'Why did you do that, though? You did not have time to explain your reasoning.'

'I thought Nærandi would help us,' Grey whined. 'I hoped… but she didn't want to.'

'Who is Nærandi?' he asked. 'How do you know her name?'

'She was from before,' Grey said sadly. 'She helped take care of me after my father died. Before this place, before the Skrill and the King.'

'When you were very young?' Toothless guessed, the pieces clicking into place in his mind with no difficulty at all. He had two young siblings at home, he was often reminded of how they trusted him instinctively, without hesitation. The same would apply to anyone who interacted with them before they were old enough to grow out of that, even after years apart.

'Yes, my father died right after I hatched,' Grey confirmed. 'He was sick… He was always sick, my mother told me he had a cough that wouldn't go away the entire time she knew him. But he didn't expect it to get worse.'

'So Nærandi started helping you and your mother,' Toothless said. 'And when you saw her tonight, you thought she would help again. Any decent dragon would.'

'She didn't, though,' Grey whined. 'I guess she wasn't allowed to.'

'The King will have made sure none of his people are able to help us, even if we ask,' Toothless agreed. 'It probably was not her fault.' Though the way she had looked at them and then roared for help didn't strike him as the act of someone who wanted to help as much as they were allowed…

He'd rather let Grey feel bad about the King controlling everyone than about her parental substitute betraying her, though, so he left it at that. 'But that happened after our plan had failed. Do you know what went wrong before that?'

'We ran out of fire,' she said. 'The wall was too thick.'

'Too thick, not enough fire, or not enough time, take your pick because they all mean the same thing,' he grumbled. 'I underestimated what we'd need to get through.' He had no way of knowing, of course, and he had bet on it being thin enough, else their plan was dead in the water… But it hadn't been. That was his mistake.

'Sadistic talked about Star climbing out…' Grey said tentatively.

'I don't think we can do that,' Toothless said bluntly. 'If she was even really doing it in the first place. One slip from high enough up and we're not risking recapture, we're risking death.' He might still have considered it for himself regardless, but the interior of the ice mountain was sloped inward towards the top. He'd be clinging upside-down and using only his claws to hold to the ice. That would never work for such a long climb.

'There are only four ways out,' Grey said thoughtfully. 'By wing, by climbing, by flaming, or by swimming. We cannot fly, climb, or survive a swim. So we must flame.'

'That's it, yeah,' he grumbled, somewhat surprised she had put it so succinctly. Every time he thought he understood how she would act, how she functioned, something changed without him noticing. He didn't think he knew which was the real Grey, not really.

The real Grey…

'Grey isn't actually your name, is it?' he asked. She called the Gronckle Nærandi, and Grár, the equivalent word for grey, would make no sense as a name for a hatchling… If she hatched grey at all, which did not seem right. She had not hatched scaleless, so far as he knew.

'No,' she said readily. 'Star calls me that. And Hefnd. And the Skrill. But it fits me better than my real name, now.'

'Would you mind telling me your real name?' he asked gently. He wished he could see her face, but he wouldn't ask her to move with her injuries just for his convenience. Also, he didn't want to move a muscle. The pain was a dull background ache so long as he wasn't actively moving.

'It's a joke, and I do not feel like joking,' Grey said bitterly.

'Okay, then,' he conceded. 'Let's go back to figuring out how to fix the mistakes of our last escape attempt.'

'That's no better,' Grey complained. 'We need more flame, it's the only way to go further into the wall, which is the only way we have to get out of the nest. And the only ones who can give us more flame to work with…'

'Are stuck in here with us,' Toothless sighed. Einn, Hefnd, and Star. A distant mute who acted as if he was waiting for death, an angry male with a chip on his shoulder, and a cruel female who didn't act much like an unwilling prisoner. There were reasons he'd foregone trying to get them to cooperate on the first escape attempt.

But that hadn't worked out so well, in the end. Grey was right; they needed more fire, and the only source of fire that wasn't stuck obeying the King happened to be their fellow captives.

'Tomorrow,' he groaned. 'If we have to do anything with them, it's waiting until tomorrow.' This was not going to be pleasant, even by the standards of his captivity thus far. Giving up and waiting for rescue was tempting…

Tempting in a way he knew all too well. He wasn't going to wait more than a decade for random chance to save him. Not this time. He could work against his enemies, so he would. Doing nothing was not an option.

Hefnd was right. It was going to take a few more beatings, at the very least. He was far from done trying to escape. If anything, he needed to go bigger this time.

Author's Note:  Grey is tricky to write, sometimes. Not in the least because who she is as a person is mostly buried under who she feels she should be, which in turn is hidden beneath who she has to be to keep herself going most of the time. Thus, her mood and behavior swings wildly depending on the situation and how she is feeling, and the thing about such an oscillating character is that it's especially hard to keep them  in  character. Like trying to color within the lines with a constantly shaking hand.

If anyone wants a musical suggestion,  'Wrecked'  by Imagine Dragons makes me think of Grey, but not directly enough to be a spoiler for her character.

In other news, special congratulations go to the reader  QuiteARandomFan , for being the first to correctly deduce that Drago's Bewilderbeast was talking through the Nadder from a few chapters ago! (And possibly the only one to do so without the advantage of having seen somebody else make the same guess, I'm not sure.)

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Toothless had grown used to being ignored by the scores of dragons visible beyond the tauntingly clear ice wall separating their little prison from the rest of the nest. They flew around within eyeshot of him, all day every day, but none ever looked his way. They didn't go out of their way to ignore the prison, that would have been some form of recognition. They just didn't acknowledge it.

It was frustrating and demeaning, but compared to everything else he was enduring it was a small thing. They were under the control of the King, there was almost certainly some sort of rule against interacting with Night Furies. So long as he kept that in mind, he didn't really resent their lack of attention. At least they provided something interesting to watch while he sat around and waited for his body to heal.

Such as now. It was midday, and usually the flow of dragons entering and exiting the ice nest via the hole in the top was a slow trickle, one or two every so often. Those who went out were out for the day, doubtless enjoying the brisk air and open skies, playing over the ice fields and filling their stomachs whenever they wanted. Those who stayed inside had little reason to leave, apart from the aforementioned sating of hunger. Fledglings played, adults flew around and mingled, but it all happened inside the nest. Dawn and dusk saw the only large movements through the top of the nest.

But not today. A whole flight of colorful dragons were flying down into the ice nest, many of them visibly injured, their gaits noticeably slowed and awkward. Some sported fresh wounds, while others had nothing visibly wrong with them, but all were tired, and while there were reunions, none were overly joyful.

He knew what a returning raiding party looked like, and he knew that such a party had gone out a few days ago. It was not hard to put the two together. But the raids he knew were all for food, and failure was a consequence of not stealing enough. He saw no dead cattle dangling from the returning raiders at all, so this was either a horrific failure… Or they were not raiding for food at all.

'What do they do out there?' he murmured to Grey. He could feel her watching through the link. The nest was infinitely more interesting than a blank slab of rock. 'Why go out? Who do they fight?'

'Oh, that's the seasonal headbutting tournament returning,' Grey said neutrally. 'That's why so many of them are hurt. Have you ever tried running headfirst into someone with horns?'

'It must be a very popular pastime, for so many to spend so long doing it,' he said dryly. 'Who won? Because they all look like they lost to me.'

'The reigning champion won, of course,' Grey said. 'A big rock.'

'Should have guessed,' he snorted. 'But really, what are they actually doing out there? For the plan.' The escape plan, though he didn't think this was likely to have an impact on it.

'I do not know for sure, I obviously have never been on one,' Grey explained, dropping the humorous tangents as he knew she would. 'But from the things the Skrill have said I think they go out and attack the nearest human nests. Driving them away, keeping the territory clear… They've started doing it a lot more often since shortly before Star was caught, and they come back looking like they lost more often than not.'

'They do it purely to keep the humans away?' The Queen had never wanted that, because she cultivated the humans much like one might cultivate a herd of deer, but if one didn't want them for their steady supply of prey… He didn't see the King rising to receive tribute. The four-winged dragon and his enigmatic rider had descended to land on the ground closest to the King's massive head, but other than that the raiding party was dispersing to lick their wounds.

'Who wants humans close by?' Grey asked rhetorically. 'They're no fun. The one here is not, anyway. I have never met any others.'

'Really?' He wasn't about to go digging into her past, not when she had as much as told him that she wasn't comfortable talking about some of it, but that was a fairly safe topic. 'I honestly don't know if I've ever met anyone who doesn't know about humans. They are as widespread as they are strange, you find them everywhere.'

'Well, I have not been everywhere,' Grey huffed. 'I hatched on a tiny island with a bunch of boulders and not much else, and then after my Sire died we flew here because we heard about a big, safe nest for everyone.' She huffed derisively. 'So safe…'

'That's not right,' Toothless growled, offended on her behalf. 'Who told you it was safe here for our kind?'

'But it was for a little while,' Grey whined. 'Then the Skrill came, and the King spent a long time talking to them, and they… did this.'

So it was the Skrill who started all of this, regardless of what the King had said. Toothless wondered what they had told him, to prompt a change from equality to lifetime imprisonment for Night Furies. It was too bad he was likely never going to get an answer to that; it all wrapped back around to the original question. To why Skrill hated his kind with what was usually an unbridled ferocity. Very much bridled here, though…

Maybe that was why it all happened. If the King was given a choice between five Skrill servants and two Night Furies, one of the latter being a child, maybe he had simply chosen the latter. He humored the Skrill, let them satisfy their needs so as to keep them as servants.

No, that didn't fit. One simple order would have been enough to curb their homicidal tendencies; it was enough, here. He hadn't needed to sacrifice one or the other, and there definitely wasn't any need for this strange compromise of indefinite imprisonment. Something they'd told him made him want to treat Night Furies badly on his own, without any pressure from them.

It might just be that the King hadn't needed much convincing. Toothless had yet to meet a King or Queen who was actually a good person. Maybe the Skrill had simply presented a convenient excuse to indulge in his darker inclinations.

It didn't really matter why they did what they did, but he would have liked to know for sure. It was a shame everyone who might be able to give him a real answer would just as soon lie or kill him if he asked.

While he thought, he watched the distant four-winged dragon and his human companion. There wasn't much to see for a while, whatever conversation going on between them and the King inaudible to him. Interestingly, the dragon rider stood off to the side, not in any way indicating that they were interacting with the King, or indeed hearing anything at all.

'Didn't Sadistic go on this raid?' Grey asked, distracting him just as the four-winged dragon bowed deeply to the King. 'I didn't see him coming back in.'

Toothless glanced up at the top of the nest, but the dragons had all returned and there was nobody there. He hadn't seen Sadistic either, and generally Skrill tended to be hard to miss. 'I wonder if he's dead,' he mused. The various pains spread across his body gave him ample reason to hope that was the case, if he didn't have reason enough already.

'I hope so,' Grey said vehemently.

They kept watch on the nest for a little while longer, but Sadistic was nowhere to be seen. Most of the dragons who had returned landed or went back outside. The four-winged dragon and his human companion made their way around the nest, stopping to interact with many of the most seriously wounded. The human often dismounted to do one thing or another – they were just too far away for Toothless to make out specifics, but he assumed it involved tending to wounds given who they were stopping at – while the four-winged dragon looked on.

Toothless was becoming more and more sure that whatever connection existed between the dragon and his human, it wasn't like what he had with Maour. There was no link, no indication that they were bantering or talking at all. When the human interacted with others, it was always with exaggerated movements that ill-fit their body, obviously adapted to put dragons at ease, not words. It would be hard to feel threatened by someone that moved like a kicked fledgling all the time, but that wasn't the same thing as understanding them.

He saw nothing to disprove his theory as they finished their rounds and took to the air. Even when leaving, the human did a passable impression of a fledgling ducking away from a much larger, irritated dragon. It was like they had come to the nest completely oblivious to how dragons acted, and proceeded to learn from the most inexperienced examples available. Without being able to properly communicate, nobody would have been able to tell them that their adopted mannerisms were ridiculous.

The human and the four-winged dragon parted ways on a grassy outcropping. The human disappeared into a crack between boulders, and the four-winged dragon returned to the air, flying…

Directly towards Toothless, and by extension the little prison he was stuck in. 'Now what does he want?' he murmured, turning gingerly to watch as the four-winged dragon flew right up to Tolerable, their overseer for the moment.

'Your kin waits outside the nest, in a crack between two icebergs he says you would know of,' the four-winged dragon said loudly. His voice was deep and booming; Toothless suspected that he said everything loudly, whether or not he meant to.

'What does he want me for?' Tolerable asked. 'I do know the place, but he can get his tail in the air and come here himself.'

'He is badly injured and does not wish to be seen by them,' the four-winged dragon explained, looking down at Toothless and the others as he spoke.

'And you think this is stupid, so you all but roar that he is hurt for them to hear?' Tolerable asked, sparking irritably.

The four-winged dragon flew up to land on the ice outcropping that made up the back wall of the rocky area Toothless and the others were kept in during the day. Tolerable leaped up to join him.

'I would have said he was being prideful, but that was before I saw him mauled by one of them with basic trickery,' the four-winged dragon said dryly. He was still easily audible to everyone nearby, including Toothless, Star, Hefnd, and Einn. The latter three were still lounging by the lake, feigning disinterest, but Toothless had noticed both Hefnd and Star's ears perking up as they listened.

He certainly understood their interest, but it paled in comparison to his own. That had to be Von they were talking about! Sadistic had fought her and lost, badly, though he wasn't dead so he must have managed to escape.

'How badly?' Tolerable asked seriously. 'And tell me he at least got the Usurper responsible.'

'Quite badly, and no,' the four-winged dragon said bluntly. 'A false claw to the neck is the worst of it. He is lucky to be alive at all, if it had struck at any other angle he would not have survived. As it is, he is having trouble eating and even breathing, and my human's attentions are of limited help.'

'Your pet never does do much for the real injuries,' Tolerable growled.

'She does more than any other can, and he may well have died by now if she had not done what she could, so keep a civil tongue in your mouth and do not call her my pet,' the four-winged dragon snarled dangerously. His wings were out, subtly separated, and he was definitely larger than the Skrill facing him.

'I take it back,' Tolerable said neutrally. 'Forget I said anything. What did the Usurper do, exactly? I noticed that the attack seems to have gone more poorly than usual.'

'This Usurper joined up with the human flock that has been troubling us for so long,' the four-winged dragon growled irritably. 'She has a human too, and the two of them sought me and mine out right at the beginning. Your kin distracted them for a little while, but we had to come down and save him, and then her human injured mine and I barely got us out in time. The attack did not go well without our guidance, and the traitors continue to grow in number despite us killing them where we can.'

'Humans, traitors, and Usurpers,' Tolerable spat, little bolts of lightning snapping loudly along his body as he spoke. 'A disgusting mix. You should do better, and never underestimate Usurpers.'

'I learned my lesson, and my human has too,' the four-winged dragon assured him. 'For that matter, I am not just here to tell you of your kin's plight. I am going to go down and look at your captive Usurpers.'

'You what?' Tolerable huffed. 'Did the Alpha give you special permission?' he spat bitterly. 'Everyone who is not a Skrill has been ordered to not interact with them unless it is to stop them from escaping.'

'I thought so,' Toothless huffed. He hoped Grey would take heart from that confirmation; her Gronckle surrogate Dam hadn't voluntarily betrayed her, at least.

'I am not going to interact with them, I am going to look at them,' the four-winged dragon said carefully. 'They will not speak, I will not speak to them. I just want to get a good look without being in the midst of a bloody battle.'

'It must be nice, being under such vague orders that they can be twisted to fit your whims,' Tolerable growled. 'Go, get a good look, and then get your human-loving behind out of my territory before I try and get creative with the rules preventing me from shredding those fat wings of yours.'

'You are not very good at convincing me that you do not deserve to be bound by our Alpha's rules,' the four-wing retorted, before leaping down into the enclosure. He landed with a heavy thump, all four of his wings spread and at the ready, and completely ignored Sadistic's impotent snarl of rage as he stalked forward. Towards the trio of Furies by the pond.

Einn, his back to the approaching dragon and as unresponsive as ever, didn't even seem aware that something was happening. Star and Hefnd both stared, but Tolerable was glaring down at them, and neither took the risk of saying something. They'd all overheard the four-winged dragon explaining his excuse for looking at them, and nobody wanted to know what the consequences would be if they spoke up. Not that he knew of any reason for them to want to say anything, consequences or not.

The four-winged dragon eyed Star and Hefnd as he approached, his wings still held out in a very intimidating fashion. Also a vulnerable one, if somebody got it into their head to put a blast in the shadowed armpit between upper and lower wings… Toothless couldn't see any scales there, and he suspected it was a weak spot. He wondered if the four-winged dragon was aware he was giving his enemies a glimpse at such a thing… And if Von had thought to exploit it when they fought.

Not that he was likely to be fighting the four-winged dragon himself anytime soon. The massive, tan-scaled male stared at Star and Hefnd for a few moments, walking around the pond in an arc large enough that he never came very close to them. He glanced over at Toothless once or twice, but didn't seem interested. Grey, of course, was hidden in her usual place, and thus completely out of sight. Not that the four-winged dragon would want to look at her, if he was trying to get an idea of what a normal Night Fury looked like.

Toothless wasn't sure he believed that excuse, though. It seemed like a very flimsy reason to go to all the trouble of arguing with Tolerable. There wouldn't be much to learn from looking at two out-of-shape, tired and mistreated examples of his kind. Star and Hefnd weren't even examples of healthy Night Furies, and they wouldn't be demonstrating any sort of fighting technique. The four-winged dragon was almost certainly learning nothing he hadn't already learned from an encounter with Von.

'For someone interested in them, he does not seem very interested,' Grey said quietly.

'My thoughts exactly.' They both watched as the four-winged dragon huffed and took to the sky, flying right over the ice wall and back into the nest proper. 'Do you think he was here for something else?'

'What else is there?' Grey responded. 'Maybe he just wanted to be the bearer of bad news… Or to humiliate Sadistic!' She sounded taken with that idea, eagerly carrying on. 'Sadistic was probably whining about being hurt, and insulting his human even when she tried to help, and after he and his human intervened in the first place… He must be getting Sadistic back, and coming to see us was just a ploy to make it seem like he had a good reason to be here.'

'I'd hoped for something we could use, but…' Toothless had to admit that sounded likely. Maybe Sadistic wasn't whining, but he seemed the type to be surly and unappreciative, and even Tolerable was capable of getting on the four-wing's nerves when it came to his human. 'That does seem likely.'

Still, they could both appreciate the good news for its own sake. Tolerable might be glaring down at them, and the food might be miserably inadequate, and his injuries were aching, but at least one of the Skrill was suffering too. And Von and Maour were still out there, with new allies.

They were doing their part. He really needed to make some progress on his end… and this was the perfect conversation-starter. His injuries might disagree, given his plans all seemed to require moving, but he was feeling relatively good, and a good mood was rare enough that he wasn't going to waste it.

'That was something,' he said casually, hauling himself to his paws with all the grace of a hundred-year-old invalid. 'Want to see if the good news will make them less terrible than usual? We might get them to think about escaping, if the worst of the Skrill is seriously hurt.'

'No… You can do it.' She tried to sound confident, but Toothless heard right through her forced bravado. She was the most optimistic of all of them – though he was fairly sure much of her demeanor was forced, given it came and went so unpredictably – and she had almost decided against trying again after just one failed attempt.

If her attempt with him had been her first, of course. Another piece of her history she might share if he asked.

He limped over to the pond, made a show of taking a drink there, then let himself collapse by the water's edge, only a half-dozen paces from Hefnd's restlessly twitching tail.

'Am I the only one who is enjoying the thought of Sadistic being badly injured and hiding out?' he asked, keeping his voice low. Tolerable usually didn't intervene in conversations, but he would still probably listen if he could.

'It will just make him more irritable when he returns,' Hefnd growled. 'But… yes, I do like the thought of him limping around.'

'Serves him right,' Star muttered from her position snuggled up next to Hefnd. Her few, relatively minor injuries were healing slower than Toothless' own, which he attributed to her generally wasted form. He wasn't so far gone yet, though his stomach was constantly growling at him.

'And did you hear that it was one of us that hurt him?' Toothless asked.

'That four-winged idiot could be heard halfway across the nest, of course we heard,' Hefnd snorted. 'She should have finished him.'

'Still, he's out of it for now,' Toothless pressed. 'He was the worst of them, from what I've seen.'

'To you,' Star said, lifting her head to glare at him. 'Some of us are capable of keeping our heads down. You should learn.'

'That only works for her,' Grey said morosely.

'Sadistic is out of it,' Toothless pressed. 'Does that really just make you want to keep doing what you've been doing?'

'Sounds like he didn't hit you hard enough,' Hefnd said dismissively. 'There is nothing else to do.'

'Escape,' Toothless said bluntly. He resisted the urge to glance up at Tolerable, that would be as good as waving his tail to get the Skrill's attention. His voice was low, and the intermittent crackling sound Tolerable emitted when frustrated had yet to die down, meaning he could hear that the Skrill wasn't nearby. 'Sadistic is out, and the other Skrill know there is a Night Fury out there, close by. Won't they go after her?'

'She'll be caught, or she'll flee,' Star growled. 'Nothing to do with us.'

'But there'll be three or fewer Skrill around, and there are five of us,' Toothless suggested. 'Does that really not tempt you at all?'

'Five counting the imbecile and the comatose,' Star corrected. 'Einn wouldn't move if the mountain was collapsing around us, and Grey might be stupid or smitten enough to do what you say but she's no good in anything important.'

'Smitten?' Toothless snorted. 'You're mistaking basic decency and hope for something else entirely.'

'Hope is right,' Star said smugly. 'Hope for the impossible. She'd jump off a cliff if you asked.'

'I would not,' Grey muttered, as always audible only to him. 'Unless you had a good reason. You always do.'

'We're getting away from my point,' Toothless huffed at Star. 'Do you or do you not want to leave this place?'

'Talk about a stupid question,' Hefnd muttered. 'Obviously we want out. It just isn't possible.'

'So stop talking about it,' Star concluded.

'So long as you're thinking about it,' Toothless muttered, turning away from them. On the one paw, they were still rude and dismissive. On the other…

'I did not think they even wanted to escape anymore,' Grey said.

'Yeah. There's that.' At least they shared the same overall goal. If he could come up with a real, reliable plan, he might be able to talk them into participating.

O-O-O

Nobody ever slept well in the ice pits. It simply wasn't possible. Light, troubled slumber was the best Toothless had ever been able to get, and that was when he wasn't injured. With the constant pain, he would be lucky if he dozed at all before daybreak. How Grey had managed it, he wasn't sure.

So he stood awkwardly, touching as little ice as possible, and waited for the night to pass. The Skrill tasked with watching them – Cold, the one he knew the least about – didn't seem to care that he was obviously awake. So long as he was in his designated pit, there was no reason to bother with him.

It was dark out, and the nest was mostly silent. Occasionally ice cracked or crashed in the distance, and Cold often sparked erratically for no reason that Toothless knew of, but other than that all was still and quiet.

Toothless fully expected to go the entire night without a single interesting thing happening. So when he heard the telltale buzz of Gronckle wings somewhere close, he perked up. It was probably just a Gronckle going for a midnight snack or something…

The buzzing drew closer.

'Everything important is the other way,' Cold called out lazily. 'There's nothing down there.'

'Sorry, I thought this was the… Never mind.' The Gronckle was female, but given Toothless couldn't see her that was all he could tell about her.

'Get going, you're not supposed to be here,' Cold said casually. 'And why you'd want to in the first place…'

'I must have gotten turned around, I was having a bad dream,' the Gronckle said weakly.

'Go,' Cold snorted.

'Yes, I will,' she answered. The buzzing of her wings faded away.

It was a strange encounter, one that stuck with Toothless through the sleepless night. When morning and the Skrill's grasping talons came for him, it was still on his mind. He would tell Grey about it once she was properly awake; she might have some insight.

He was dropped by the pond, as usual. Grey was already hidden away in her rock pile, and the smell of fresh fish drifted on the wind…

He inhaled deeply, his stomach all but snarling at him as it twisted in on itself. That wasn't normal, the Skrill didn't bring fish in the morning.

He glanced over at Star and Hefnd, wondering if he was hallucinating. 'Do you smell that?' he asked.

'Yes, but there are no fish here,' Hefnd grumbled. 'It is probably just Sadistic taunting us from afar since he cannot do it in person.'

'Or someone with a stomach-ache vomited somewhere upwind last night,' Star said pessimistically. 'Whatever it is, we're not going to get it, so you should just ignore it.'

That made it sound like they hadn't even bothered to follow the smell and see where it was coming from… Toothless was wary of walking right into some cruel taunt or trap, but at the same time, he was starving. The possible reward was worth the risk.

He turned his nose up and scented the air. There was a faint breeze coming from over Grey's rockslide, meaning the smell was coming from that direction. There wasn't anything there beyond the rocks and the rugged stone and ice cliffs behind them, so whatever was causing the smell was probably out of reach.

Probably. Not definitely. He limped over to the base of Grey's rockpile, intent on climbing up.

Then it occurred to him that an old landslide wasn't necessarily stable, and that Grey was currently huddled under it. 'Grey, how likely is all this to collapse if I climb on top of it?' he asked.

'What?' Grey murmured lethargically. 'It… The pile? No, it should be fine… Star made a game of testing it when she first got here. She has stood and jumped on every rock in it.'

'I'd appreciate it if you came out while I go up there anyway, just in case,' Toothless admitted. 'I smell something… It's probably nothing, but I would feel stupid if I didn't make sure.'

'Okay,' Grey said reluctantly. Toothless was reminded of Star's accusation the day before, that Grey would do whatever he said. But this wasn't a big thing, he was just asking her to stand clear for safety.

Even if Star was right, and Grey was interested in him… He wasn't going to take advantage of it, or of her. Especially as he didn't see her that way in the slightest. But Star was probably blowing smoke anyway.

Grey emerged from her hiding place, crawling out from under the low-hanging rock that stopped Toothless or anybody else from trying to get into her place. She emerged, bleary-eyed and moving stiffly, her own injuries still plaguing her every step. She was lucky – and so was he, come to think of it – that all of her injuries were healing normally. An infection in a place like this might be the death of them.

'I'm out,' she mumbled sleepily, seemingly uninterested in what he was doing or why he needed her to get clear.

'I won't be long,' he assured her. He leaped up onto the lowest rock large enough to provide a pawhold, then sniffed the air and followed the scent being blown down on them. It was coming from further up, so he kept going. Thankfully the rockslide was not all that steep or treacherous; his chest was already aching from the exertion and he had to make every move gingerly so as to avoid pulling something.

Still, he could climb… and the smell was getting stronger. Fish, not fresh but not that old either, maybe a day or two out of the water at most. The breeze had faded away but the smell remained, getting stronger and stronger as he moved upward–

He almost walked right by the first fish. It was nothing more than a smell and a glimpse of silver-grey among the tan rocks, stuck between two boulders in a crevice barely big enough for his paw at its widest point.

He pulled himself back, stuck a paw down the crack without a second thought, and snagged two claws through the fleshy side, pulling it back with as much care as he could muster. Once it was free, he swallowed it in one greedy movement, not even tasting it in his haste.

That was one fish, there were fish here… But the smell remained, too strong to be from the leftover slime smeared between the rocks. He cast about, looking down into other gaps and out-of-sight nooks.

There were five, in total. Five wonderful, unexpected fish, enough to sate his hunger and then some. He ate them all as soon as he found them, for fear the Skrill would take them away from him…

But their watcher for the morning was Angry, and he was busy glaring suspiciously at Grey as she stood in the open. He had apparently decided that her unusual presence was the potential threat.

Toothless heaved a sigh of relief and began making his way back down the rockslide, thinking as he went.

Obviously, he wasn't going to keep all the fish to himself. He could bring some of them back up for Grey. There were five in total, theoretically enough for everybody to have one… But that felt like a waste. One had just made him hungrier, it would do the same to the others.

No, he wasn't going to share with everybody. Grey could have half, enough to actually be a small meal. She needed them the most, especially as she was the one he would be relying on in any future escape attempts. More than Star or Hefnd, even if they cooperated.

And then there was the reason these fish had appeared out of nowhere. He didn't believe in coincidences, not when they were this far-fetched. A Gronckle had come over the night before and given Cold an excuse. Fish were waiting in a semi-hidden place this morning. A Gronckle had wronged Grey only a few days ago, betraying her when she least expected it, even if it was involuntary.

The fish were probably meant for Grey. An apology, one that did not involve interacting with her except by proxy and thus apparently complied with the King's rules against interaction.

'Can I go back now?' Grey asked the moment he set paw on solid ground. She looked so small, scaleless and huddled in the open, obviously wanting nothing more than to return to her hiding place. She only ever came out for food, and there was none of that available now… Or so she thought.

'Sure, just a moment,' he rumbled. He threw a wing over her, ignored her surprised flinch, and pulled her close. He ducked his head under his own wing and heaved, ignoring her confusion long enough to toss up three barely-digested fish.

'We've got an ally in the nest,' he told her as she scarfed down the fish. The moment she was done he pulled away, hoping that the sudden embrace wasn't too suspicious. 'I think I might go rock-climbing every day,' he said loudly. 'It's surprisingly rewarding.'

'I suppose that means I have to come out every day?' Grey asked neutrally.

'Yes, for safety,' he told her. And for food, if this wasn't a one-time occurrence. He thought it might be, but on the other paw, a few measly fish weren't exactly a satisfactory apology. There might be more.

Even if there were not, this one-time smuggling of fish had given him hope. They had an ally in the nest, one who would help if she could figure out a way to do it while getting around the King's orders. Von and Maour had joined up with humans outside the nest. Star and Hefnd were at least open to being convinced to help in an escape attempt, if he could put a good one together.

He just had to figure out how to put it all together in the right time and place. To heal, plot, and wait for a good opportunity. He could do that.

Author's Note : A week late? No, surely not. It's only been two weeks, right?

Let's just say that while I expected moving to take up a few days, I didn't anticipate the preparations for moving dominating a week of my life, and then some. I do still intend to do a chapter every two weeks. If nothing else, there are only ten chapters  left . That's not that much, comparatively speaking.

Also, for anyone wondering: My new story,  Unwilling Flame , is not going to cut into any of my writing time for this story. I wrote it two years ago, and rewrote it in bits and pieces over this summer. That's done, all I'm doing every week is uploading the latest chapter. Living Freely is actually the only thing I'm currently writing. So no worries on that front. If you must worry, worry about the college workload burying me…

Chapter Text

O-O-O

  Of all the Skrill, Toothless knew the least about Cold. He had spent days listening to Sadistic and Angry talk, he knew Condescending had a Monstrous Nightmare lover, Tolerable could sit for most of a day without moving if he felt like it… But Cold? He’d barely even seen the reclusive fifth Skrill in the time he’d been a prisoner at the ice nest. 

  Sadistic’s continued absence from the guard rotation drew him out, though. Where before he was a guard maybe once in ten days – another thing Toothless didn’t know was how he managed that, given none of the Skrill besides maybe Sadistic seemed to like guarding their prisoners – now he was pulling his weight, showing up every fourth day.

  ‘Why is he called Cold?’ Toothless murmured to himself, looking up at the reclusive Skrill perched high above the half-moon enclosure. He held the same place Tolerable always took when watching, but was sprawled out and might be sleeping. No lightning cracked or sparked across his body at all, which was unusual. If Toothless hadn’t seen him fly up there, he might think he was dead.

  ‘It is partially because he does not care about anything,’ Grey told him. ‘Also, he likes to keep us in our pits during the day if the others let him, which they usually don’t. And he can sleep on bare ice, like he might be doing now. He sleeps a lot. So there are a lot of reasons.’

 Toothless was reminded of the things he had overheard Condescending say to Tolerable some time ago, and what she had implied. That the Skrill were being twisted by their inability to act as they wanted, by the many rules the King had restrained them with. This could be an extension of that.

  The Skrill wanted to kill Night Furies. That, so far as he knew, was their normal. They would attack, sometimes recklessly, and kill. Being forced to not kill, and to interact with them on a daily basis for years, but given absolutely no reason to want to change their base desires… He could see how that might warp a person, and not for the better. 

  Not that they were coming from good places to begin with. The only Skrill he’d ever met not under a King’s control had tried her best to kill anyone and anything she knew was related to Night Furies. He didn’t dislike that the Skrill here weren’t allowed to act like that. It was the only reason he was alive now. 

  In other circumstances, maybe he would pity them. But here and now, he didn’t have that luxury. They were his enemies, and they would be even if they were set free of the King’s control. In fact, they’d be even more dangerous if that happened, so any plan he made to deal with them during an escape attempt needed to take that into account…

  ‘We can’t let the Skrill be knocked out and leave them alive afterward. If it ever seems like I’ve forgotten that, remind me.’ Either they’d avoid the Skrill, or they’d have to kill. Leaving a newly unchained Skrill to act on his or her homicidal urges was a bad idea.

  ‘Why?’ Grey asked thoughtfully.

  ‘The King’s control is the only thing keeping them from killing us,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Right. I did not really think of it… like that. Like something we could change.’ She sounded worried.

  ‘So long as we’re careful, it won’t be a problem.’ So long as care was taken… He was thankful the King seemed unconcerned with further security measures on the Night Furies under his control. It had to be at least partly apathy; the possibility of a Night Fury hurting the King would seem insane to anyone who had not lived through challenging and subsequently killing a similarly large dragon.

  ‘Not that I want to try that here,’ he muttered to himself. The same tricks wouldn’t work on the King. He was smarter, larger, and had a nest of more or less willing thralls who couldn’t be counted on to leave the fight alone. Not to mention his ice breath, which Toothless had absolutely no defense against if it was ever turned against him…

  He shivered and impulsively limped away from his spot by the translucent ice wall. His chest twinged, but most of the bruises Sadistic had burdened him with were fading away, and the other injuries were healing too. He was healing slower than he hoped, but faster than he had feared being near-starvation would allow.

  Though he wasn’t quite so close to starvation as of late. Grey’s former caretaker did not drop fish off every day, but she had yet to stay away for more than three days. Whatever drove her, guilt or the need to defy the King, it was not something that had been appeased by a single offering.

  He was content to let the fish come when they would and not attempt to meddle; having a potential agent on the outside who was able to fly around the nest without being attacked seemed like something to pursue, but there wasn’t really any way for him to use it. He didn’t think he could interact with the Gronckle without the orders she was living with coming into play, and he had no way to suggest a course of action to her without doing it himself.

  And even if he could get in contact with the Gronckle in a safe manner, she probably couldn’t do much. ‘That would be too easy,’ he rumbled to himself.

  ‘Keep up that muttering to nobody and you’re going to end up crazier than our guards,’ Hefnd called out.

  ‘Crazy is in the eye of the beholder,’ Toothless retorted. He’d heard one of the twins say that to Einfari, once. It was as good a retort as any when he was caught off-guard by Hefnd actually initiating a conversation with him. Assuming that was what this was, and not just a one-off insult.

  ‘The beholder is me,’ Hefnd huffed. ‘Are you still sane enough to tell me something?’ He was, as always, sat between Einn’s motionless form and Star’s relatively lively one. Star was watching them both, her eyes narrowed. She didn’t seem pleased. Einn was, of course, completely unresponsive to the world.

  ‘Probably,’ Toothless assured him. He ambled over to their side of the pond, compensating for the lingering twinges in his chest and side. Soon he’d be healed enough to ignore the remaining pains… Soon. Not yet.

  ‘What were you and Grey going to do?’ he asked. ‘If you got out of the ice, into the open.’

  ‘He never talks about escape…’ Grey murmured in the back of Toothless’ mind. ‘Not when he thought it was impossible. Back when he and Einn were new, they talked about escape all the time.’

  ‘There’s an ice field,’ Toothless said in a low voice, stopping just far enough from Hefnd that it wouldn’t be obvious to an observer that they were interacting at all. He understood why Hefnd was asking now; Cold seemed like the safest guard to have if one wanted to discuss escape plans. A sleeping guard couldn’t eavesdrop, and even if Cold was faking sleep he was too far away to hear them. ‘It’s large enough that we could have hid out there.’

  ‘Yes, but what then?’ Hefnd asked. ‘You made a break for it. You had a plan to get all the way out and stay that way, or you would not have bothered.’ There was a challenge hidden beneath those words, unless Toothless was completely misinterpreting the situation.

  ‘Einn escaped by breaking and resetting his wings,’ Toothless said quietly.

  ‘That would not work for you, your wings are not broken,’ Hefnd said gruffly. ‘What was your real plan? If you want my help, I want to know.’

  ‘I will not be convinced even then,’ Star said sourly. ‘And hurry it up, someone will be along with food any moment now. I am not going to get hurt again because I kept watch for your stupid plotting.’

  ‘I don’t understand her,’ Grey huffed. ‘Maybe you should not tell... ‘

  ‘Some things are better left unsaid,’ Toothless answered, replying to both Grey and Hefnd at the same time. ‘I think you told me that yourself, when I first came here.’ With luck, that would be enough for Hefnd to draw the right conclusions…

  Hefnd glared at him, baring his teeth slightly. ‘It would take dozens to save us by force,’ he growled.

  ‘If they were our kind, yes,’ Toothless said cryptically. ‘Did you not eavesdrop on the Skrill when they spoke of Sadistic’s misfortune? I was not surprised by anything they said.’ Not even the mention of Von and Maour joining up with some marauding human force. Though he did suspect Ruffnut had been the one to propose the idea. It seemed her sort of ploy.

  ‘You didn’t know about that until after your escape failed,’ Hefnd said suspiciously.

  ‘All I needed to know was that if I got far enough and drew the right sort of attention, the rest would be handled for me,’ Toothless chuffed confidently. He wished he felt that confident, his first escape plan had always been vague and undefined beyond getting out into the ice fields, but now that he knew more, the next try wouldn’t be nearly so risky. ‘It will be even easier to arrange now. Who backs off after a victory?’ The human force that had dealt such a demoralizing defeat to the ice nest’s dragons wouldn’t just go away, and the ice nest wouldn’t just ignore them.

  Hefnd’s nostrils flared as he let out a surprised snort, and Toothless knew he had him before he even replied. ‘Maybe if you could get out there in the first place,’ he said disparagingly, but Toothless knew better than to believe he was really so certain of failure. The prisoners of this wretched place were all apathetic to some degree, and right now Hefnd’s feigned disinterest was just that, feigned. He couldn’t hide the way his body tensed, the way he was ready to move even though there was nothing and nowhere to move to.

  ‘Shut up, Angry is coming,’ Star hissed, smacking Hefnd’s side quite hard with her tail. Angry flew over the ice wall and plummeted down into their enclosure with absolutely no ceremony, leaving a meagre pile of fish where he landed. He stalked toward the pond–

  Toothless backed up until his tail and back paws were in the shallows as Angry snarled at him and the others. The Skrill had stopped just short of snapping distance, his teeth on display and sparks running down his neck.

  ‘He won’t be gone for much longer,’ Angry snarled at them. ‘Do not get too confident. We will bring down the one who hurt him and break her wings just like yours. If we are very lucky, we might even be allowed to kill her.’

  ‘Don’t say anything!’ Grey said urgently. Toothless was thankful she was still in her hiding place and thus out of the way. Angry hadn’t laid a talon on any of them yet, but that might change. Injured as he was, he still would rather take a hit than see her take one, if it was necessary for somebody to be hurt at all.

  Hefnd bowed his head, looking away. Star huffed and glared right back at Angry. Einn twitched an ear.

  Toothless stared at the Skrill’s neck, avoiding his gaze and instead wondering whether he’d be hurt too much in retaliation if he tried to kill the Skrill now. Probably… And he didn’t think it would help. Not if done now.

  ‘Cower like the cowards you are,’ Angry spat. He reared up on his hind legs, his chest wreathed in fleeting lightning, and took off with a heavy flap that blew dust in their faces.

  ‘That is why you do not huddle together and plot,’ Star spat the moment Angry was gone. ‘He saw.’

  ‘Then what good are you as a lookout?’ Toothless asked irritably. ‘He didn’t actually do anything.’

  ‘He might have,’ she retorted. ‘I have already been hurt enough by your ploys.’

  ‘I am sorry about that, for what it’s worth,’ Toothless told her. A flash of grey off to the side told him Grey was coming out of her hideout. ‘We didn’t mean to get caught, and we definitely didn’t mean to get you caught… whatever you were doing.’ She had been so insistent on him not prying that he wasn’t even going to try. 

  ‘You don’t mean to do a lot of things,’ Star said dismissively, rising to her paws with an exaggerated yawn. ‘This will all end in pain and failure.’

  Hefnd got up and went to the fish pile to sort out his and Einn’s share, and Toothless followed him over, meeting Grey there. The fish were bruised and battered, but whole. He ate his share quickly, unable to make himself slow down. Getting a few extra fish every few days was good, but it paradoxically made him less capable of ignoring his hunger. Irregularity bred uncertainty, or something like that.

  ‘Grey, give me one of your fish,’ Star said suddenly. She had come up between Toothless and Grey, shouldering her way in and pushing Grey to the side as she did so. ‘I want it.’

  ‘What?’ Grey asked, her voice deceptively light. She made no move to take her paws off her two fish, or to eat them. ‘I don’t know… You know I can never eat just one fish. I think I want both of mine.’

  ‘You owe me,’ Star hissed. ‘If you are sorry, you’ll give me your fish.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Toothless said bluntly, knocking his paw into Star’s to get her attention. ‘We’re sorry, but not sorry enough to starve ourselves.’ Never mind that she hadn’t demanded any of his fish; maybe he’d eaten it too fast, or maybe she just didn’t see him as an easy target for coercion. He was regretting apologizing at all, if it had brought this on. She hadn’t demanded retribution before now.

  ‘I could…’ Grey began.

  ‘But you shouldn’t,’ Toothless said firmly. ‘Not because she’s trying to make you.’

  ‘You’re a spoilsport,’ Star growled. She swallowed her two measly fish, one after the other, then cast a dismissive glare at Grey. ‘And I thought you could not get any more pathetic.’

  Toothless had just about had enough of Star’s attitude. He bared his teeth at her and took a single step forward, effectively stepping between her and Grey. Like he always seemed to end up doing, though usually it was more a figurative stepping-in. ‘Go be vile to someone who deserves it,’ he growled.

  ‘She’s an annoying, spineless waste of space who makes me sick,’ Star snarled right back at him. ‘You could do so much better.’

  ‘Better?’ Toothless demanded. ‘I protect people who need protecting. End of story.’

  ‘Maybe you just like her pointless pining after you, but the rest of us can’t stand it,’ Star said venomously, glaring at him like she wanted to give him a good clawing. ‘She was tolerable before you came. Pitiful, but good for some amusement on occasion. Now she’s just a love-sick wet fish doing whatever you say and hiding behind you.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Grey objected from his other side.

  Toothless very briefly considered whether Star might have a point. Not about Grey being attracted to him – that was another matter entirely, and one that he already knew how to respond to – but about whether or not he was getting in her way. She wasn’t hiding behind him, but he was putting himself out to defend her, without considering whether she wanted it. That couldn’t be good for her in the long run, nothing good ever came of not fighting one’s own battles…

  But this was not a normal situation, and a single glance over at Grey reaffirmed that he was doing the right thing. She was small and fragile and in a terrible place.

  ‘She’ll fend for herself once we’re all out of here.’ Toothless turned, putting his back to Grey and his front to Star. ‘When everything isn’t conspiring to break her. Until then, I’m going to protect her. I’d do the same for you if you needed or wanted it.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Star barked, her ears flying back to lay flat against her neck. ‘I don’t need your protection!’

  ‘Good!’ Toothless barked right back at her. ‘Because I’d be hard-pressed to give it. You are the most unpleasant person I have ever met who hasn’t tried to kill me, and even then I think I’d prefer the company of some of those who have. You snipe and you mock and you pick at people, and none of it is in the least bit justified. The enemy is out there ,’ he snarled, tossing his head in the general direction of Cold, then toward the rest of the ice nest. ‘Not in here! You are prisoners, equally trapped and tormented, and instead of banding together you push one of your own away and put her down. You do more to make this place unbearable than some of the Skrill!’

  Hefnd, who had until Toothless’ latest outburst been watching from his place by Einn, narrowed his eyes and made to say something.

  Toothless shot him a truly angry look and clawed at the ground. ‘No, don’t even start,’ he said to the other male. ‘This is between me and her.’

  Hefnd wavered, but Star seemed to take it as a given that he’d back down. ‘You’re pathetic, and so is she,’ she hissed.

  ‘She’s crushed ,’ Toothless retorted. ‘Crushed under the weight of this place, of what she goes through every day. So are you, and so is Einn, and Hefnd. But her most of all, because you take some sick pleasure out of making it worse for her. That’s pathetic all right, but it’s pathetic of you .’

  Grey let out a small, unhappy noise behind him, but he was too wound up to listen. This had been growing in his chest since he first came here, and he was going to speak his mind. It was nothing but the truth.

  ‘It’s pathetic, and you’re a miserable, spiteful wretch who I can’t even properly hate because you’re here ,’ he said, his every word as forceful as he could make it. ‘But you’ve poisoned any reason I might have to pity you, either. So what if she’s attracted to me? It doesn’t matter , not in here. I’m not going to take advantage of her, because that’s exactly what I’d be doing if I did anything about it. Taking advantage of how miserable and desperate for any kind of positive attention you made her. That’s not the Skrill, that’s all you, and if we weren’t here, I’d want nothing to do with you.’

  He pulled in a heavy breath, the bruises on his chest aching fiercely from all the growling he’d been doing. ‘But we’re here. You’re a prisoner, just like me. Just like her. I’m going to work with you if there’s ever a chance that it will get us out . Until then, if you can’t keep a civil tongue in your mouth, keep it shut. Especially when it comes to Grey.’

  He didn’t hate Star. Hate was for those who he could be sure did what they did because that was who they were, free of pressure or outside influence. By that measure, he didn’t even hate the Skrill. But of all the Night Furies in this icy pit, she was the only one who actively sought to make life worse for another. For that, he despised her, a feeling that had been building for quite a while, especially whenever she made sport of putting Grey down.

  Star was trembling, though from fear, anger, or something else entirely, he didn’t know. Hefnd’s eyes were wide, and he flicked his tail uncertainly. He hadn’t been prepared for the sheer anger Toothless had vented in Star’s direction, and Toothless hoped that he also heard what had been said and knew it was true.

  Einn, though…

  Einn was looking right at him, his eyes open and his ears up. That was the extent of his reaction, but from him it might as well have been a bark of shock. Something in Toothless’ rant had caught his attention where seemingly nothing else could, though Toothless had no idea what, given he hadn’t noticed when Einn first broke out of his usual stupor.

  Toothless could have left it there, discomfort and guilt and discontent and who knew what else gnawing at the Night Furies in front of him. He wanted to leave it there, to storm off and let that be the last thing he said. But it shouldn’t be. Not when he had their attention like this. No matter how much Star disgusted him, he might need all of them in the days to come. Ending it like this wouldn’t help secure their cooperation when he needed it.

  ‘That goes for everyone here,’ he continued after a brief pause, no less vehemently than before. ‘Work together. Help each other. When the time comes we’re all going to get out of here,’ and it was only Cold’s continued snoring that let him say that openly, ‘but that’s no excuse to treat each other badly while we’re here. Even more so if you think there’s a chance we’ll fail and be stuck here forever.’

  ‘I don’t treat anyone badly,’ Hefnd asserted, glancing over at his father and then doing a double-take when he saw that Einn was alert and watching them.

  ‘Letting something happen when you could have intervened counts as doing it yourself,’ Toothless told him. ‘Be proactive.’

  Hefnd eyed Star thoughtfully. Star glared right back at him, but it lacked her usual scathing annoyance. She huffed and spread her wings, as if to fly away. Toothless was struck by the subtle bend at the midpoint of both wings. Such a small thing, to ground her so utterly… Her break was less severe than any of the others he’d seen, but apparently no less effective.

  Star hesitated with her wings out, before hurriedly bringing them back down and stalking off around the pond, headed for the spot Toothless usually claimed. Alone.

  He would need to be careful with that; it would be the height of hypocrisy to lecture Star for all she’d done and then treat her like an outsider afterward. They would all be watching him, and if he ignored his own suggestions they might think he wasn’t serious…

 He hadn’t intended it, but he might have just made himself the unofficial leader of the prisoners. Everyone had listened to him. Hefnd seemed like he was going to at least think about what had been said, and Star wasn’t talking back or dismissing him. Einn wasn’t ignoring him. Grey…

  He turned around and saw Grey standing there, her tail flat on the ground and her ears back. She looked away the moment their eyes met.

  Some of the satisfaction he’d felt at finally speaking his mind bled away. The things he had said were true, but he hadn’t wanted Grey to hear them so… bluntly. Or at all, truth be told. He hadn’t thought much about it, beyond deciding that whatever she felt could wait to be addressed. Once they were safe and not worrying about day to day survival.

  So much for that. He had no idea what she was feeling now. With all of her layers, it was hard enough figuring out whether what she showed was real at all, let alone what it might hide.

  ‘I have siblings,’ he offered in a low voice.

  ‘What?’ she asked, looking up. Of all the things he could have said, she probably hadn’t expected that.

  ‘Four of them,’ he elaborated. ‘An older sister, a younger brother,’ though he didn’t know for sure whether Maour was younger, it certainly felt that way sometimes, ‘and a hatchling sister and brother.’

  ‘You… shouldn’t be talking about this,’ she hissed worriedly, her own feelings momentarily forgotten. ‘Someone might hear!’

  ‘Cold is still asleep,’ he said reassuringly. He had avoided outright roaring during his rant, and apparently Cold could sleep through anything short of that. He was beginning to understand why the other Skrill let Cold keep watch so seldomly. He was a potential breakout waiting to happen, compared to the others. Something to keep in mind for later.

  ‘Still,’ Grey insisted.

  ‘I’m trying to explain,’ Toothless persisted. ‘I was helping my parents watch my siblings for years before I got caught up in all of this. You know how hatchlings are, they trust everyone and can be easily hurt. They’re learning.’

  ‘Yes…’ Grey said slowly.

  ‘I don’t see that when I look at you,’ he said, looking her in the eye, ‘but it’s… similar. I want to help you.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t want that kind of help…’ Grey whispered. ‘You’re… nice. I like being around you.’

  ‘That’s because I’m a good person,’ he said gently. ‘I know those are hard to come by in here. When we leave–’

  Grey huffed doubtfully, but he pushed on anyway.

  ‘When we leave,’ he repeated, ‘you’re going to meet a lot of people who you like being around. And you’re going to grow, and change, and be the person this place would never let you be. I want to help you with that. But I don’t see you in any other way… I can’t. Do you understand why?’

  ‘Because I’m a fledgling?’ she guessed. ‘Even though I’m not really?’

  ‘You’re not you ,’ he chuffed. ‘Whoever you are without this place weighing on you. You need some time in the sun. Time to be yourself. To grow.’

  ‘I try not to think about that,’ Grey whispered. ‘It’s so far away, so impossible…’

  ‘It’ll happen,’ he promised. He stepped forward, slowly and carefully putting a wing over her head. Holding her close. Her soft, scaleless skin was smooth against his chest and neck. ‘So… don’t feel bad?’

  ‘It was stupid anyway,’ Grey huffed. ‘I’m not funny even though I try to be. I’m not pretty. I’m not confident.’

  ‘Even if you are not now, you will be,’ he told her. He could argue that she was all of those things now, but she would hear it as insincere no matter how he meant it, and if he was honest she wasn’t really any of those things, so it really would be insincere. ‘Once we’re out of here.’

  ‘Once I’m free…’ she murmured.

  If she would ever be free. Toothless had confidence that his siblings and Ruffnut would come through, that he could get the other Furies out when the time was right, but he wasn’t certain of some inevitable success. And if he failed, if Grey’s newly-raised hopes were dashed again… He’d already seen what that looked like. Einn’s near-total apathy. He didn’t want that to happen to Grey.

  But even Einn had listened this time… 

  He couldn’t fail again.

  O-O-O

    Ruffnut glared at three chunky stone tiles, before clutching them jealously to her chest. She had trouble distinguishing between the overly complicated symbols, but the game itself was simple… and she was losing. Worse, she was losing to an utter imbecile.

  The man across from her was dark-skinned and entirely bald, up to and including lacking any visible nose hair. He wore a black tunic and a heavy grey overcoat, and a heavy bracelet of shriveled, scaled limbs clasped together in a morbid circlet. He was winning, with only one tile left and a self-satisfied smirk. Eret, to her right, only had two tiles left, but he had just gone. The fourth player, a large woman with an eyepatch and messy braids, was far and away the least likely to win, with all five of her tiles still in hand. They all sat at a rough wooden table beneath a green lantern, safely ensconced in one of the larger wooden ships of the fleet.

  The bald fun-crusher across from her eyed his single tile contemplatively, then waved his hand. “I can do nothing this turn,” he proclaimed.

  The woman immediately slapped down one of her many tiles, adding to the maze-like array they’d built up on the table. “Scythe to Scythe,” she proclaimed.

  “Doesn’t look like a scythe,” Ruffnut muttered. It really didn’t; neither the farming implement, nor the weapon Maour had named after it. It was just a bunch of curved lines more reminiscent of a hairball than any tool. The other symbol on the woman’s tile was a similar collection of lines, though it sported three forked tines that jutted out one end.

  She looked at her tiles again, but of the six figures they presented, none matched it or the other loose ends available to her. “I’ve got nothing,” she admitted.

  “Neither have I,” Eret said. “Which probably means–”

  “That is game,” the bald man announced, connecting his last tile to the one the woman had put out. “Three in a row! That’s three of my gold back from each of you,” he added.

  “Yeah, yeah” Ruffnut muttered, tossing a few curious gold coins over. She couldn’t be too bitter, they weren’t real gold and he’d supplied them all with equal amounts for the purposes of learning the game… But to lose all of her coins meant she was out of the larger game, and she only had one left, now. They’d already knocked out a weedy man with several missing teeth a few rounds ago.

  “You are all doing well,” the bald man assured them as he swept his winnings down into the satchel he kept by his feet, then pulled all of the tiles to himself to begin the process of flipping them over and mixing them together. “Not everyone has the cunning to play these games. You would not believe how many storm off the moment I start explaining the rules.”

  Ruffnut was certain that the previous players who had ‘stormed off’ had left because of the man’s grating personality and constant insincere praise. The game wasn’t hard to learn, so long as one had motivation… And he was more than willing to teach them. Probably because it was supposed to be played with real valuables, not false currency.

  She knew a scam when she saw one, and he was obviously running the classic ‘build up, then kick between the legs’ ploy. He lured them in with the promise of a distraction on a horribly windy and snow-filled night, acted innocent and professed his desire simply to play his foreign game with someone , and set out the first ‘teaching’ game with no real stakes. By the end of this game, she expected he’d barely eke out an overall win, and then next time, when there were real stakes, he’d play for real and rob them blind.

  She knew the trick well; she’d done it to Fishlegs years ago, back on Berk. The fancifully carved model Snaptrapper she’d swindled had held pride of place on her bedpost for a few weeks before it was burned in a tragic Tuffnut accident.

  But here she was, playing anyway. Partly out of true boredom; she wasn’t going to lose anything now, during the practice game. Then there was the fact that Eret was here, and his presence, shirt-wearing though it might be, was definitely an incentive.

  “I’ll get you yet,” the woman exclaimed. “You’re not winning by so much anymore.”

  “You are growing skilled,” the bald man assured her. “By the time we play for real stakes I will have to worry for my valuables.”

 “What are you planning on putting up?” Eret asked, leaning forward. “I’ve got a gold belt buckle, but I’d rather not wager it for a few pieces of bone or something.”

  “I keep a collection of interesting things for wagering,” the bald man replied. “I have carvings, dragon bone relics, all sorts of things.”

  “All sorts of things you’ve ‘won’,” Ruffnut said.

  “Yes, of course,” he said with a wide smile. “What about you? You must be paid well, as one of Drago’s favored right hands.”

  “It’s a living,” Ruffnut said vaguely. “I could probably bring a few Night Fury scales, since they’re more interesting than boring old gold.” Not to mention she could get shed scales for free; she knew Von had dropped at least one since they’d met up with Drago’s fleet, and Von famously never threw out any of her shed scales, so she’d still have it somewhere.

  “Night Fury!” the braid-toting woman said loudly. “It’s a fell sight, that. You would dare approach that thing or its keeper?”

  “Given we’re all still alive to talk about it, I don’t feel threatened,” Ruffnut said, leaning back in her chair. Nobody knew she slept in the same cabin as the ‘fell beast’, mostly because she was careful about when and how she went back to the visitor ship. It wasn’t a secret she was too worried about keeping, she could always spin her association with Maour as a recruiting mission if anyone found out. So long as she didn’t directly lie about things, keeping it all vague and mysterious only worked to her benefit.

  “I will have to up my wager next time, then, if such a prize is to be offered,” the bald man said reverently. “You are a dragon hunter?”

  “Dragon trapper,” Ruffnut clarified just as Eret opened his mouth. He was touchy about the difference, and her preemptive strike earned her an amusing look from him. Maybe, if she was convincing, she could get him to offer up his shirt as his wager… If only the others at this table valued him not having it as highly as she did.

  “I have a rare and useful delicacy in my possession,” the bald man offered. “It is made with the finest spirits from the East, and so much as smelling it can drop dragons out of the sky. To drink it makes them pliable… It is worth much, and I think it could be useful for you.”

  Ruffnut was intrigued. The pranking potential alone… “Does it actually work?” she asked.

  “I’ve used it to defend my ship on occasion,” the bald man assured her. “It smells of fire and eye-wateringly strong mead, but burns so badly on the tongue that I could not taste anything for a week the one time I tried it. I once saw a dragon drown from catching a whiff at the wrong time and falling into the ocean.”

  The woman laughed loudly, and Eret let out an amused chuckle. Ruffnut smiled, though she knew it was a predatory, vicious expression. She was still sure the man meant to swindle her and the others, his prize was just more enticement for them to feel justified in offering up their valuables for him to take…

  But she was a trickster too, and she wanted that drink. She’d just have to find some way of winning against an expert and possible cheater. “Bring that next time we meet, and I’ll bring all the scales I can get. I’d like to win your wine.”

  “I’ll bring my buckle,” Eret added.

  “And I a jeweled crossbow!” the woman agreed.

  “Then let us practice,” the bald man suggested with a small smile. He shoved the now thoroughly mixed collection of tiles into the center of the table. “Draw your fortunes, and think carefully,” he intoned. “Luck and skill alike will win you the game.”

  Luck, skill, and a healthy dose of trickery. Ruffnut pulled her tiles, but her mind wasn’t on tonight’s game. Not anymore.

O-O-O

  It was night, and the ships were all anchored. The bitingly cold wind and snow had driven all but a skeleton guard into the depths of the ships, out of sight. The green lanterns glowed fitfully all across the fleet.

  But not everyone was inside, waiting for the night to depart. Maour was asleep, Von knew that for a fact. Ruffnut, last she had seen, was sprawled out on their cabin’s wooden floor. She spent her days doing who knew what – she had said something about sabotaging tunics and pretending to be in charge – but she always returned there to sleep.

  Von, on the other paw, was very much awake, though she was bitterly regretting the necessity. She perched silently on the metal-plated cabin of the rearmost ship in the fleet, watching a strange, mostly-silent ritual take place where none would see it.

  Two Gronckles dragged a cage from behind the cabin, biting into the corner bars and pulling with all their might. Once they had a cage behind the cabin, the Nadder from before spoke the same thing she asked every other caged captive.

 ‘Have you decided to stay and fly against our enemies, or to leave these lands? If you stay, you will cooperate and obey our leadership, and you will not be allowed to leave. There will be no going back on your decision until the ice nest has fallen.’

The captive being addressed was a species Von had never seen before, shaped like a Nightmare but smaller and with shorter wings.

  ‘I want to leave,’ the Nightmare-esque dragon said in a ragged, fearful voice.

  ‘Then you may leave,’ the Nadder said solemnly. She raised one leg, her talons gleaming wetly with melted snow, and poked at the cage’s locking mechanism for a few drawn-out moments. It was not a simple key-based lock, Von had no doubt that a Nadder could never undo such a thing on her own, but neither was it as basic as a latch. She didn’t know enough about the creations of humans to say more; Maour or Ruffnut could have explained it if she’d bothered asking.

  Whatever the trick was – on second thought, Von really did need to find out in case she ever found herself wanting to open a cage on her own – the Nadder had the barred door of the cage swinging outward after only a few moments of fiddling.

  The Nightmare-esque dragon jumped out into the open like they were afraid the door would be shut in their face if they lingered, and took off without so much as a word of thanks, flying low to the water.

  Nothing stopped the dragon’s frantic departure. Von watched the rapidly retreating figure until she lost track of them in the snow-blurred distance. No human would ever have seen them go, not without eyes as good as hers. No dragon leaped up from the depths to snare them, physically or mentally.

  The promise of freedom to those who wanted it was good, it seemed. She was glad to see it, given she had no idea what she would have done if it turned out to be a trick.

  But the release of one dragon was not a momentous occasion to anyone else involved; only Von was seeing it for the first time. The Gronckles had gone back to bring in another cage, and the Nadder was shaking the gathering snow off her wings and tail as she waited. The next cage came much quicker, containing a downright scrawny blue Zippleback. One head stared warily at the Gronckles, while the other eyed the Nadder appraisingly. When the same question was posed to them, their answer was simple.

  ‘I will fight for you if it saves others,’ they said in their singular mental voice. Von wasn’t sure whether they were a ‘they’ at all. From what she had been taught as a fledgling, it depended on the individual, and whether the heads possessed divergent personalities or not. The former tended to act as two beings with one body, while the latter often behaved just like a one-headed dragon except in times of stress. She had never personally known a Zippleback, so that was all she knew.

  ‘You are certain?’ the Nadder asked. ‘There is no turning back, and I know your kind can be prone to second-guessing your decisions.’ It seemed she, or the alpha that might be speaking through her, knew enough to ask for clarification.

  ‘ I do not speak lightly,’ the Zippleback confirmed. ‘And I do not argue with myself. This is my choice.’

  ‘Then you should look,’ the Nadder told him, stepping to the side. The waters behind the ship roiled and churned, and the King’s massive brow rose, one large eye staring unblinking at the caged Zippleback.

  Von looked away, though she didn’t think she would be caught up just by looking from above when the alpha might not even be aware of her presence. Not with Maour in her head… but better safe than sorry.

  ‘You did not tell me of this…’ the Zippleback hissed.

  ‘So that any who decided to leave could not spread the knowledge to our enemies,’ the Nadder said firmly. ‘We told you that you would be compelled to stay. You have not been lied to.’

  ‘So long as I can fight,’ the Zippleback growled.

  ‘You will,’ the Nadder assured him. The King’s head sank beneath the waves once more, nothing of apparent significance having changed… But Von knew better. That Zippleback was stuck here, now. Linked, his very body able to be commandeered at any moment, forced to obey any rules his alpha set. A single, powerless subordinate to someone far bigger – in every sense – than himself.

  It was not an existence she thought she would ever be able to tolerate, but the Zippleback bore it with little outward sign of discontent. ‘And here I was, thinking that there would only ever be one mind in my body from now on,’ he sighed. ‘Very well.’

  ‘I’ll show you where we all sleep,’ the Nadder said as she moved forward to unlock his cage. ‘It is warm and smells far better than anywhere else on these floating trees. We also have fish brought in for us. There are cages, but they do not lock like these do…’

  The door swung open, and the Zippleback ambled out, flinching as he walked out into the icy snow. ‘Warm sounds good,’ he said vehemently.

  The two circled around the cabin. The Zippleback eyed the rows of cages lined up on the front deck of the ship, but followed dutifully as the Nadder led him past them. 

  Then he looked back, maybe thinking to catch a glance of the alpha in the water. Von had shifted around her perch on the cabin to watch them, and her eyes briefly met two of his as one head looked her way.

  He squinted at her, then turned away. ‘What does your alpha think of the Night Furies?’ he asked casually.

  ‘Nothing,’ the Nadder replied, her voice growing faint as they moved away from Von’s not-so-hidden perch. ‘Whatever madness possesses the ice nest involving them, it holds no sway here. Is that going to be a problem?’

  ‘Far from it,’ the Zippleback said firmly. ‘I was just checking.’

  As the Zippleback and the Nadder departed, the pair of Gronckles ambled out to retrieve the next cage from the long rows. At the rate they were going, the deck would be empty by dawn. Some of those currently imprisoned dragons would leave, but others would stay and fight… for the other side, this time. And they would do it willingly.

  It was cold out, but Von felt warm inside. This could work. It really could, whether or not she and Maour and Ruffnut joined in. It didn’t rely on them, it was going to happen anyway. They just had to rescue her brother when it did happen. Their allies would do the rest.

  O-O-O

Author’s Note: This is perhaps the biggest overarching change I made that diverges the final draft of this story (what you’re reading now) from the first draft. Toothless and Grey are not going to be in any sort of romantic relationship in this story. Because looking back at my ill-advised first draft and reading between the lines, it’s extremely creepy for Toothless to feel any sort of attraction to someone so obviously damaged and vulnerable in such a bad position. Grey is not okay, she’s in a complicated and unhealthy state of mind, and I would even say she’s not mentally mature, despite her age (it’s implied that she’s been a captive here since early in her childhood, and it’s pretty hard to mature without living a life ). She’s the embodiment of vulnerability, and while it’s totally possible she’d have a crush on a healthy, kind, engaging male who comes in and brings some hope to her life, him returning that affection in any way other than platonically is way too problematic. 

  Him wanting to cherish and protect her, on the other hand? Yeah, in spades. Especially since he’s fresh off helping raise two hatchlings for the better part of three years. And Grey needs a protector, a guardian, way more than she needs a romantic partner. But the me of… I think it’s four years ago now, which is insane… didn’t think about that. At all. So the first draft plowed right through all of that weirdness with an oblivious wagonload of cliches.

  All that said, here’s a question: Would anyone be interested in, once this story is over, seeing the cringe-worthy first draft edition in all of its terrible glory? It would be minimal effort for me to put it up (with appropriate warnings that it is in no way representative of anything I’m proud of), since it’s written already and I’d not be improving it, beyond technical stuff like spellcheck. And I’m sure some readers would enjoy it anyway; it’s about the same writing level as Living Vicariously, having been written fresh off the back of that. Plus all of the plot differences… Valka’s part in the story is totally different, and the same can be said of Drago. And Star. Definitely Star. Also Grey and Toothless, of course. It’s a totally different story, fully written already.

  Something to think about. I wouldn’t put it up until this story was over in any case, so it’s not a pressing matter. Just something that I’ve been considering, especially as I was writing this chapter.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

The forges were loud in some ways, but curiously silent in others.

Hammer met metal, clanging and echoing through the surprisingly high-ceiling open space taking up the bowels of one of the metal-clad ships of Drago's fleet. Hot iron sizzled and crackled when it was quenched, the heady smell wafting out the slit windows guarded by metal sills and tightly-arranged bars. The snow gusting in instantly melted and sizzled on the hot surfaces.

But there were no voices; the forges were mostly empty. There were places for a dozen blacksmiths and several dozen assistants, benches and quenching barrels and hot furnaces, but only two of each were in use.

Maour had never seen such an efficiently designed forging space… nor such an empty one. His own setup back home was relatively spacious, but it had never felt so abandoned as this.

Perhaps it was more than the forges being used at only a fraction of their capacity, though. He wasn't in the best state of mind to be judging a place by how lonely it made him feel, how empty it seemed to be at the moment.

The metal rods in the fire began to glow orange, the healthy color that meant they would neither snap nor splatter when he hammered them, so he pulled them out with his tongs and hefted the hammer the workstation had come with. He tapped tentatively at them, alternating between the two rods as he tested exactly how pliable they were, slowly bending them over the edge of the bench.

It had been weeks since he worked at his forge at home. Since he'd seen Toothless, or Cloey or Shadow or his younger siblings, or Heather…

He put the rods back on the fire, their glow fading to a duller orange that would render all his work moot if he persisted.

With all that was going on, he'd not had much time to dwell on home. On what would be going on there, with him and his siblings – and Ruffnut and Einn, for good measure – disappearing in a storm. Making sure he could bring everyone back took precedence, and his sleepless nights were spent worrying about that, not about what might be happening in their absence.

But at times like this, when he was already doing absolutely everything he could think of to ensure the apparent tragedy of their disappearance didn't turn into a real tragedy, he found his thoughts turning to them. To the ones left behind.

His parents would be beside themselves with worry, but they'd be stuck at home, watching the little ones. With him, Von, and Toothless gone, they would be struggling to manage at all, with no time left to go out looking. The other families were probably searching in their stead. Heather would be out looking, for sure…

He felt bad about all of the worry their absence was undoubtedly causing, a gnawing guilt in his gut ameliorated by the knowledge that he couldn't have prevented it without something worse happening instead. But for Heather, the gnawing was a full-on ache in his chest. One he tried his best to put aside whenever he needed to think, to work on saving Toothless, but right now he could do both.

The rods were white-hot again, so he removed them from the fire once more and finalized the palm-length right angle he had hammered into them both. Then they went into the quenching barrel, the salt water this time for a harder quench. The two largest controlling rods needed to be stiff; it was safer if they broke than if they bent. If one of the two broke, the tail would be stuck in whatever position it was in at the time. If one bent, the tail would likely be pulled closed, dropping Toothless into an unrecoverable free-fall. Broken was at least potentially recoverable. He remembered explaining as much to Heather when they were working on the automatic tailfin.

Heather had taken to hanging around when he was working in the forge. And Toothless would either be there or would be commenting in his head… Von didn't do that. Von was busy flying in circles above a ship for some reason, not offering experienced advice on the tailfin replacement he was forging.

He missed them both.

Toothless would be saved. He and Toothless would return to the Isle of Night, and everything would go back to the way it had been before Skrill yanked them away from their lives. Maour would settle for nothing less.

He used the tongs to pull the rods out of the quenching barrel and dropped them on another bench, one with an assortment of other parts. It was a good thing Von had shed and kept a total of five scales since their unexpected journey began; if it weren't for her, he would have had to find some other way to pay for the raw materials needed. That would have taken time, time he might not have.

"We're coming for you," he muttered to himself, reaching forward to begin assembling the old-fashioned tailfin arrangement he knew by heart. He didn't have the plans for the automatic tailfin with him, and he was taking no chances with that. Especially not when Toothless was likely to need every bit of their experience flying together. Maour doubted they'd be getting him to safety without a fight.

O-O-O

The key to cheating without getting caught was to do it in a way that nobody would expect. Ruffnut usually had the upper hand with this sort of thing; by being loud and obnoxious most of the time, those who knew her would be blindsided by subtle tricks.

The bald man sitting across from her, huddled in a large coat, took much the same approach. He was grandiose and friendly and open, making one think that if he had the upper hand he couldn't possibly keep it to himself. In a game where bragging did not change the outcome, he would happily tell everyone exactly how well he thought he was doing.

"My luck is underwater, it's so low," Eret lamented as he passed his turn yet again. The bald man casually placed his third to last tile down with no comment.

His silence made him seem uncertain of his prospects. Like he thought he might not win.

'He has the symbols to match off of his own tile,' Von reported from afar. 'He does not have any that look like pawprints.'

He was almost certain to win if the game played out as it should. He knew it. But he wasn't showing it, so when he did win he could play it up and act as if it was pure luck. Not the skill he had kept back and hidden from them in their previous practice game.

"Why did we have to play this outside?" the woman with braided hair muttered, placing a tile of her own to match off one Ruffnut had put down several turns ago.

"A fat Gronckle was asleep in our usual spot and Drago's favored here suggested the deck," Eret said tiredly. "You were there."

"Every time snow gets in my eyes I feel I need to be reminded," the woman retorted. "We could have used the Gronckle as our table, it wouldn't have woken up."

"The chill is bracing," Ruffnut objected. She eyed the tiles in her hand – all four of them – and selected one that would match to the bald man's last tile but present a symbol he didn't have, effectively countering him by what would seem to be pure chance. He had been sandbagging last game, but she was cheating this game.

They were playing at a table set on the deck of the visitor ship – getting to watch Eret strain to move the thing out of the hold was a side benefit. Von was flying low in the air above the ship, seemingly idling her time away while Maour was off doing whatever it was he had found to do. She was close enough to see the tiles if she squinted whenever she passed by, and Ruffnut was the only one who could hear her relaying her findings.

All as planned. Ruffnut was glad Von was able to convince a Gronckle to take up their usual spot, but she could have worked that out some other way. Now they were out in the open, playing in the drifting snow and flickering torchlight, and the bald man was repressing a dismayed scowl.

"Finally," Eret said loudly, slapping one of his six tiles down to match to Ruffnut's latest addition. Luckily for her, his tile didn't give the bald man an opening, and he passed with a subdued wave of his hand. The woman passed as well, leaving Ruffnut free to be rid of another tile.

Eret played another, clearly happy with his changing fortune, and the bald man was forced to pass again. His uneasy scowl was more genuine now; this one round wouldn't decide their game, far from it, but he probably thought his luck was taking a turn for the worse.

When it was Ruffnut's turn she put down her penultimate tile and smiled disarmingly at the bald man. "You were right, we are getting better!" That dragon-doping alcohol was going to be hers! This had to be more interesting than whatever Maour was doing right now. She hadn't listened when he said he'd be busy tonight.

O-O-O

The summons had come on a folded note slipped under the door to their shared cabin. Maour found it after a full afternoon of tweaking Toothless' replacement tailfin in the forges and later on the deck when he was kicked out by a swarm of blacksmiths. Whatever they'd been tasked with doing, it was on a scale that did not allow for a single workstation to be lent out. The formerly empty forges were practically vibrating with noise.

The note itself was a simple thing, a scrawled line on parchment. Drago intended to meet with him, and only him, tonight. A complex signature sprawled out beneath the demand.

Maour wasn't an idiot; the first thing he did after receiving the note was ask around to make sure this was something Drago normally did, and to check that the signature was legitimate. According to the guards he'd asked, it wasn't common but it did happen. A merchant staying on the visitor ship showed him an old parchment with a very similar demand on it, from when he had first arrived.

His worries mostly assuaged, Maour hadn't minded Von volunteering to stick around above-deck while he met with Drago. Ruffnut had dragged her into something or other, he hadn't asked. So long as she was available if he ended up needing a quick extraction.

He made his way to the remarkably small and unassuming cabin Drago had specified just as the sky was darkening from a cloudy afternoon grey to a much darker, night grey. The green lanterns cast eerie shadows everywhere, contrasting more as the ambient light faded. The cabin door was guarded by three men with crossbows and short swords, but they all stood aside when he approached.

If this was an ambush, it was one plotted by Drago himself, which was unlikely. So far as Maour knew, Drago was entirely happy with his cooperation and maybe even a bit fearful of setting Von off. So he pushed the door open with no small amount of confidence, wondering what Drago wanted with him.

What he saw was not at all what he had expected. Drago sat in a simple chair at a rough table of dark wood, poking at a whole roast chicken with one hand. His polearm was off to the side, within easy reach but not immediately available.

"Sit," Drago said absently, tearing a drumstick off the chicken and leaning back. "I wish to speak with you."

"Sure, that's what I'm here for," he replied. The chair on the other side of the table was uncomfortably hard, and whoever had made it had failed to make the legs level so he had to lean forward to stop every little movement from rocking it back and forth. "Anything specific you wanted to speak of, or…"

"You are not what I expected," Drago said simply.

"Too little muscle, or too politely optimistic?" Maour asked.

"Too easily destroyed," Drago replied. He still held the chicken wing in his hand, though he'd not made any move to actually bite into it. His grey gaze bored into Maour with an unnerving intensity. "Too little effort. You have bound a monster to your will, but none who see you in action can understand how you did it."

"I'd say much the same of your armored dragons," Maour said casually. "That armor could be thrown off, most of them aren't tied down anywhere…" To someone without his insider knowledge, Drago's dragons looked just as 'inexplicably tame' as Von did. Even with his inside knowledge he didn't understand how Drago had ended up with the current situation. One did not come to an accord with a King by accident, and then there was the language barrier that went at least one way, possibly both.

He wanted to ask, but with the way Drago was looking at him, he suspected he'd need to answer the question posed to himself first. That unamused stare was not the stare of somebody willing to change the subject.

"What I did was not… difficult," he said slowly. It would be easiest if he didn't have to lie. The truth was one story he already knew, far simpler to remember than any falsehood he might come up with. He just had to word it right. "It was dangerous and unexpected, but once done it was not something that I could ever undo by accident." The love of his family was not something easily stripped away, and that was what it would take to turn Von against him. Some sort of horrible treachery.

"Too easy," Drago repeated. He put the chicken wing down, leaving it on the table next to the cooling carcass, and learned forward. "How long has it held?"

"Long enough," Maour said vaguely. "Years. It is not some fragile leash, not something that could be broken in a moment."

"I thought the same once," Drago said brusquely. "But Night Furies cannot be tamed. They cannot be broken, no matter how well you might think you have done it."

"Then it's a good thing I didn't try to do either," Maour shot back, doing his best to hide how much he disliked the way that had been said. Drago spoke of a 'tame' Night Fury as if it was some desirable thing, but all he could think of was Togi, his intricately scarred underbelly. "Don't try. You do nothing but build the tools of your own destruction and any who might come after you."

"That is exactly what I did," Drago said quietly, his voice a heavy rasp. "Trusting the instrument of my destruction..."

A heavy, brooding silence came between them. One with a putrid undertone of unpleasant realizations, at least on Maour's part.

He hadn't connected them. Togi's tale, his past, was a distant story of terror and horrible humans who should all be dead by now, decades later. Drago's work here was practical, surprisingly progressive compared to the average Viking, and genuinely impressive for all that it was obviously imperfect. That the two could both be the same story, the same history of the same man…

"It is a folly, to use them for anything, to believe they will stay cowed," Drago said darkly. "I learned. You ought to learn from me."

"I heard a story, once," Maour replied, his voice surprisingly firm for all that he was half sure he was sitting across from a torturer who had done terrible things to his friend and might very well be willing to do them again to his sister if the opportunity arose. "Of a man who took a Night Fury and broke her, using her as a weapon. Who took more, tried to break another, to breed an army…"

Drago's stony visage didn't change in the slightest. The flickering torchlight reflected in his eyes was the only movement.

"I heard the Night Furies razed his island to the ground, and that the one he had thought broken died trying to kill him," Maour concluded. "I trust my source, but I had assumed all involved dead by now." Save for the Night Furies, of course… But if Drago was the one, then Maour was going to do his best to ensure Drago had no reason to suspect Togi or the other still lived.

"Not quite," Drago said roughly. "Not yet."

"So I see." He wondered whether he could get away with attacking Drago here. He wondered whether he was willing to attack Drago.

"I learned a harsh lesson that day," Drago all but growled at him. "They cannot be used. Not forever."

"Is that all you learned?" he asked carefully. Not that torturing and trying to break a person was wrong, not that it was immoral… Just that it didn't work. That it couldn't work, if Drago's vehemence on the subject was any indication of what he really thought.

"I am not the child I once was," Drago replied after a moment's thought. If he sensed that he was on thin ice with Maour at the moment, he either didn't care or didn't think Maour could possibly be dangerous to him. "Rebuilding… It took time, and when the next chance to bring dragons to my cause came about, I approached it… differently."

"How?" Maour asked tersely.

"Understand what they want, and make yourself the way they get it," Drago explained, leaning back in his chair. He never broke eye contact. "They are brutal, violent creatures… But so are we, in our own ways. Give them a reason to follow for a time, and plan for when they will no longer follow, just like you would men. Knowing when they will abandon you and accepting it means you will not keep them overlong and force them to turn on you."

"Then what do these dragons here want, that you can give?" Maour pressed. That was certainly… a way of looking at things. Not necessarily a good one, but not all that bad either. Not in comparison to 'kill or enslave them all', which was apparently where Drago had come from.

"To fight others of their kind," Drago said bluntly. "They want to live and eat and fight amongst themselves, not to fight our kind. Their leaders want to destroy each other and be served. There is a leader out there, in the ice field. Those here wish to see that leader dead. I wish to see that leader dead. Our interests align until that has happened, and when it does I will let them leave."

"What if they go back to doing exactly what the ones at the ice nest are already doing?" Maour asked, picking at Drago's reasoning. It sounded nice and simple, but he didn't believe that was as far as Drago had thought about it. There were enough glaring holes to sail a ship through. "What do you gain if you are replacing one mindless tyrant and his horde with another?"

"This one will respect us," Drago insisted. "We will have fought beside them, killed their dragon enemies for them, made their peace possible. They will not strike at humans, for fear of others doing what they are doing now. They understand the workings of power, there would be no leader dragons if they did not. They will not even attack defenseless villages…"

"Because they know that people like you sail around avenging those villages, or at least they believe as much." Maour shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "Well, you've certainly got ambitions…" Ambitions he wasn't sure were possible to fully achieve. Dragons were smarter than that, not so simplistic. Even if they were that simple to manipulate, they would grow old and die and be replaced by those who hadn't experienced the same things. That was life.

But even if Drago's plan was intrinsically flawed, it was still good. In the short term, if nothing else. The current King of the ice nest was razing islands and spreading his influence. The current opposition alpha was fighting back. Said alpha might very well think as Drago expected, and would probably live for a long, long time. A change in regime would be good for the region, good for the dragons and the humans. Not to mention good for Night Furies in particular, as there was no obvious hatred of them to be found in the alpha working with Drago.

Drago was working on thoroughly flawed assumptions and a very simplistic understanding… but his actions weren't bad, even if his hopes for what they would lead to were ridiculously overblown. The man might be amoral, but his incorrect beliefs were guiding him in ways that kept him on a fairly good path forward. He believed dragons could not be dominated, not that they should not be dominated.

Maybe that was better. Few men tried to do the impossible. Far more found their morals slipping somewhere along the way and turned to things they once considered wrong. If Drago believed it was impossible to do horrible things, then who was Maour to correct him?

Maour shifted uneasily in his chair, breaking eye contact with Drago to look down at the table for a moment. For Togi's sake he wanted Drago to suffer, to at least understand that he was wrong, that what he had done was terrible. Assuming Togi would even want him to do such a thing, and in the process to risk changing the person Drago had become. A surprisingly moral person by merit of believing things he had no way of knowing were false.

Dragons were people. People could be broken. It was not some law of nature that Drago was doomed to fail, he had failed as much through chance and his own mistakes as anything.

What kind of person would Drago become, if he knew all of that for fact? If he was given reason to question what he currently believed? Told that he could have succeeded all of those years ago, had he just avoided a few simple mistakes?

"I think I understand," Maour said quietly. He understood what he needed to do. "That is… not unlike what I have done." He wasn't going to risk all of this, all that Drago was and had built, being turned to less moral ends.

"Then you have learned at a far younger age than I," Drago said approvingly. "And without the same sacrifices."

He had learned. He had learned far more than Drago ever would. What Drago did with flawed assumptions and incomplete knowledge he did with true understanding, or at least something much closer. But if he said so, if he tried to explain, it might very well turn Drago against him.

"I would see your Night Fury," Drago said abruptly, standing from his chair with a flourish of his cloak. "I thought you were following the same foolish path I once did. Now that I know you are not… I want to see it."

"She is with me because our interests align," Maour warned, doing his best to hold to the principles Drago espoused. "Don't give her reason to dislike you." Von hadn't been listening in to this conversation, so she didn't yet know who Drago was, or what he had done. Maour had no intention of telling her until they no longer needed Drago's help with anything. He would rather not have known himself. It was easier to trust Drago when he was an unexpected, unknown individual who seemed to have good intentions at heart. Now he knew that Drago was a product of chance and self-interest, all built upon an unstable base. Still good, but only by circumstance.

"I am not that foolish," Drago said gruffly. He pulled the door to the small cabin open, said something Maour couldn't make out to his guards, and left. Maour followed him across the ships, to the visitor ship and the odd scene playing out on its deck.

Night had fallen. The snow was picking up, gusts and flurries whipping across the deck and collecting in every available crevice. It was cold and dark out.

But there were four people braving the cold, sitting around a table set right in the center of the deck, huddled over a collection of wooden tiles and bantering like they were unaware of the weather.

'He has three with the fang symbol,' Von called out from above, swooping down close to the deck for a moment before flying back up. None but Maour even saw her.

Maour didn't know what he was walking into, but he took it in stride, mostly by ignoring the four tile-placing madmen and madwomen – it wasn't even a surprise that Ruffnut was among them – and waving his hand in the air. "Von, come here!" he yelled authoritatively. Drago had boarded the visitor ship and was looking to the sky.

'What am I flying into?' Von asked warily as she swooped low once again, making a pass but not yet committing to a landing.

Maour couldn't answer her, not with Drago right in front of him, but he beckoned casually. Von knew he wouldn't be leading her into an ambush, not without any warning.

A dark Night Fury speckled with accumulated rime descended from the sky directly in front of Drago. Three of the four players at the table nearby jerked away from her abrupt landing, their chairs scraping on the deck. Ruffnut just laughed and put a tile down.

Their reactions weren't important. Drago, on the other hand…

He was staring, his cold, grey eyes focused squarely on Von's head. He turned to the side, his shrouded arm facing her, and lifted his polearm just high enough that the bottom was no longer touching the deck. Held as a weapon, not a walking aid.

Von tossed her head and eyed him warily. 'If he points that stick at me, he's going to lose it.'

"Put the weapon down, she can tell you're ready to use it," Maour said to Drago. He quickly crossed the short gangplank to the visitor ship and walked around Drago, not so subtly getting between him and Von. "You wanted to see her, so…"

"I did," Drago agreed with a short rasp. He was tense; Maour would have assumed he was deathly afraid and struggling to hide it if he was… anyone else, really. Maybe he was afraid, his past deeds aside. He was definitely wary.

A short shout resounded from the gaming table off to the side. A bald man in an oversized coat scraped a bunch of wooden tiles toward himself. Neither Von nor Drago so much as looked away from their staring contest.

"I see no difference," Drago said slowly. "None at all."

"You wouldn't see it," Maour told him. He didn't know what Drago expected; he had been told that Von was with Maour because their interests aligned, nothing more. It wasn't as if she would be chained or beaten or broken. She didn't wear armor like the other dragons Drago had under his sway, but she had a saddle… A nice saddle, he had spared no effort in making it, but still a saddle. But Drago seemed to be expecting more.

It wasn't easy, keeping to the decision he had made back in Drago's cabin. If the world was fair and just, Drago wouldn't be here at all. Someone else who actually knew what they were doing would be, while Drago would be dead decades back. Maour wouldn't need to keep him blindly following the right path.

Von chuffed in annoyance and looked away first. 'My nostrils are frozen from the inside out,' she complained to Maour. 'That prize Ruffnut keeps refusing to tell me about had better be good.'

"You should go inside," Maour told her. "Warm up. Whatever you were doing up there in the cold can't have been that important."

'It was not,' Von agreed. 'Ruffnut, you're on your own!' she called out, before carefully backing away from Drago. She wasn't staring directly at him anymore, but Maour was sure that if he so much as twitched she would know it. She didn't know who he was, not like Maour now did, but she was still wary. Wary enough that he didn't think telling her would accomplish anything positive.

Drago watched as Von quickly made for the nearest hatch leading into the depths of the ship, deftly pulled it open with one paw, and disappeared below. A conversation started at the strange table off to the side, replacing what would have been an ominous silence with a low chatter.

"You are nothing like what I was," Drago said after a few long moments of staring at nothing. His flinty, unreadable stare transferred to Maour. "The time comes."

"For what?" he asked.

"You are my answer to the dragon rider," Drago said bluntly. "You proved your worth. My forces grow, but my ability to effectively maneuver them has peaked. The weather will only grow worse."

"So the attack has to happen soon," Maour concluded.

"Now," Drago corrected with a low growl. His dreadlocks swayed in the wind, snow catching in the rough ties. He turned away from Maour, looking out over the fleet. "We leave in the morning for the ice fields. Be ready for a fight. Whatever comes, you are tasked with downing the dragon rider."

O-O-O

The wind was cold, but the mood was hot with tension and some good old-fashioned stubbornness of the hole-digging variety. Inwardly, Ruffnut was sorely wishing she had a thicker tunic. Outwardly, she was smiling confidently as she waited for what was likely to be the final hand of the game.

The bald man had played well, as well as could be expected of someone with such inexplicably bad luck. Ruffnut was only one of three opponents, and the other two often unwittingly blunted her most effective plays against him, but having even one player supernaturally predicting and blocking his best placements was wearing on him. Nobody had gone out yet, but he was close, and Eret and the woman whose name Ruffnut could never remember were down to their last false coins.

They were also, judging by the quick, thoughtless moves they made, down to their last remnants of patience for the game and the weather. Eret, hunk of muscle that he was, suffered in stoick silence, but the woman more than made up for it.

"You Northerners must have skin like wool and brains like pebbles, to play in this," the woman asserted as she tossed her last false coin into the pile in preparation for the next round. Ruffnut put in one of her many, many coins, and watched as Eret threw in his last as well.

"Don't call me a Northerner," the bald man growled irritably. His cheerful demeanor had acquired more holes than a bucket after somebody trapped a Terrible Terror under it. The smoldering wreckage barely clung on, especially now. The game was all but won in her favor, unless he convinced her to do something incredibly stupid–

"Let us end this," he grunted, shoving all of his currency into the pile. "All in. Winner takes all. One last round."

"Oh, sure, because that's so fair," Ruffnut complained. She had just lost Von – Maour had brought her down to show to some big guy with a walking stick, and apparently that was enough of an excuse for Von to chicken out – and she doubted her ability to match the bald man in skill alone. "I've got so much more than you… At least put some conditions on your win, or something."

"Like?" Eret asked. "Anything to end this game quickly."

"I win if I'm down to two or fewer tiles when somebody else goes out," Ruffnut proposed. "Either beat me by a lot or I win." It was more than fair; she had the vast majority of the coins, and in any normal game her victory was a foregone conclusion, a matter of time instead of skill. The weather was working against her now, forcing her to risk her cleverly cheated advantage for a much less solid head start.

"Deal," the bald man agreed, quickly sorting out the tiles one last time. "This is for everything. I must win before you are rid of your third to last tile. A fitting challenge." He made no mention of the other two players who were theoretically still in the game, and neither of them objected. Everybody knew that this was between him and Ruffnut; they were just there to take up space and put their tiles down to be played off of.

The tiles were dealt out, and Ruffnut didn't like her hand. The best hands were the ones where she could, with a bit of luck, play off of her own previous moves and empty her hand without needing anyone else's tiles. This one, though… Not even close. And Von had chosen now to leave her hanging! Maour and the big brooding guy were still talking, but Von had gone inside, so Ruffnut couldn't even subtly try and call her back without it being incredibly suspicious. The bald guy was already giving her the stink eye whenever she won a round, he had to suspect she was cheating.

Maybe it was for the best that she couldn't cheat now. There would be absolutely no evidence for him to find if he outright accused her of it once she won. If she won.

Eret slapped down a tile to start them off, and the game began. The wind swirled snowflakes and sea mist in their faces, and Maour's mental voice was annoyingly clear where nobody else's words were. He was saying something about an attack, but she couldn't care less.

She dropped her hand to five tiles in the first few turns, but the bald man, no longer plagued by Von relaying information, played off every single tile she placed, keeping up with her with no difficulty. Ruffnut dropped a tile with a dragon's fang on the open side, and he placed one to match it. She tried to get rid of one with a bundle of wheat, Eret played off of it, and the bald man played off of that without even hesitating. They were neck and neck, and maybe it was the stakes or the terrible weather, but it felt like everybody was rushing to the conclusion.

Then her fortunes took a turn for the worse. She had to skip a turn. Then another. The bald man gleefully took advantage of both chances and took a two-tile lead. She got rid of her fourth, but he immediately discarded his second tile, leaving only one in his hand.

"Here we go," he said seriously. "You have four, I have one. If you cannot play and I can, I win. If you can play and I cannot, then play again, you win. Either way, we all get to get out of this horrid weather."

Over the bald man's shoulder, Maour and the big guy parted ways. Maour headed below deck, while the big guy stayed. He had nice dreadlocks; if he weren't so old Ruffnut would be all over that, to learn some new hairstyle techniques to use on Tuffnut the next time she caught him unaware, if nothing else.

The woman put down a tile; it offered a match with any sword-symbol tiles. The only other open tile involved yet another wheat symbol, and she already knew she didn't have any of those.

She looked at her hand. Three of her four tiles had a sword on them. If Von were around, she'd stall until she got a report of what the bald man held, then play something that didn't match him. But Von was gone, and the big guy looking over at them wasn't likely to help her out.

It was all up to luck. She put one of the three out without even looking. Whatever happened, happened. She could always try and nick the alcohol later.

Eret passed. The bald man… He waved his hand with a heartfelt grimace. "My luck has been missing as of late," he conceded. "Perhaps Drago employs you for yours. You were not so good last time we played."

"I'm not one of his most trusted subordinates for my luck," Ruffnut said loudly. Her turn came around, and she triumphantly slammed another of her tiles down. "Two in the hand. By our agreement, I win!"

"You win a case of frostbite," the woman announced, shoving herself, chair and all, away from the table with a scowl.

"And that jeweled crossbow of yours," Ruffnut reminded her. It was under the table, right next to a couple of Von's scales, Eret's silver dagger – not as good as his shirt, but she'd take what she could get – and the round cask of alcohol the bald guy had entirely refused to open up until now.

She reached beneath the table and pulled the cask toward herself. "Let's just check," she murmured, leaning over to pop the lid off.

There was a smell, unidentifiable but potent. Her vision wavered, and she slammed the lid back on with every neglected shred of self-preservation she still possessed after a lifetime of living with Tuffnut. "Wow, that's a thing," she said woozily. "I thought it only worked on dragons?"

"Perhaps if you are unused to alcohol of any kind, it would affect you too," the bald man said sourly. "Congratulations."

"Well, I earned it," Ruffnut told him. The others were all getting up, but she was content to sit there and bask in the glory of victory against a superior foe. Sure, she had cheated, but he had undersold his skill from the start. She counted this as a legitimate win, all things considered.

The big guy was still watching her. She felt like she should know him… But there were so many bulky, brooding soldiers in the fleet. This one stood out, but not enough for her to remember him if she had ever run into him before.

"Drago's trusted subordinate," he announced. For some reason, Eret flinched and the bald man spun around so quickly he almost tripped over his own chair. Sure, the guy had a creepily raspy voice, but not enough to get that sort of reaction!

"Yeah, what of it?" she demanded.

"I don't remember you," he said dangerously.

"I'm only memorable when I want to be," she shot back. "I do good work." She'd ask Maour who this guy was later; for now she needed to defend her story.

Her three companions were slowly backing away from the table. She expected more from Eret, at least.

"When were you brought on?" he asked.

"About the same time as the Night Fury," she said vaguely. "To keep an eye on the new Trapper crew, you know the drill." She pointed at Eret. Eret nodded silently.

"Has she been… helpful?" the big, nosy guy demanded of Eret.

"Very," Eret quickly assured him. "She taught my men how to use the net launchers you outfitted us with, and that was just the first night. She has been a great help."

"Is that so..." The nosy guy stared at her. She stared right back until a snowflake got her right in the eye, then blinked rapidly at him until it was gone.

Then he shrugged his shrouded shoulder and thumped his staff on the deck. "Be ready. The final assault begins tomorrow." He turned and stomped his way off the ship, his masterfully tangled net of hair swaying against the back of his neck.

"So…" Ruffnut said once he had left. "Why are you all so terrified of that guy?" She certainly wasn't scared of him. Nosy old guys were annoying, at best.

"Only you," Eret said with a shuddering laugh. "Now I get why you're so trusted… Not many people can mouth off to Drago Bludvist and get away with their lives."

The bald man and the woman both nodded in agreement.

"Oh," Ruffnut said eloquently. That had been… lucky.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Scores of dark ships sailed with the driving wind, seemingly spurred forward by the snow and whipping sleet. The weather was relatively mild for the time of year and the sea tolerably choppy, but those things were conveniences to the fleet, not necessities. They were on the move, and their destination was the one every soldier in the fleet had been waiting for since they signed on. Nothing short of a full-on blizzard was going to get in their way.

The word had filtered down to the common sailor that very night, or morning in the case of the particularly lazy captains. The captains of every ship in the fleet had been given a new direction, to be taken at dawn as marked by the lead ship's bells. That direction had them sailing directly toward the ice field the fleet they had been tracking loose circles around for months.

Ruffnut had heard from Maour that night, but she heard it again from Eret when she ambled over to his ship at the nonexistent crack of dawn. She'd never heard the lead ship's bells before; they seemed to be something Drago held in reserve for special occasions. Loud and dolorous, they were just the thing to wake somebody up with a crippling case of ennui.

"Never heard a call to war so depressing before," she said to nobody in particular as she watched Eret's crew struggle with the main sail. Eret paced restlessly around them and shouted instructions that were way too urgent. Sure, the fleet was moving quickly and Eret's ship was trailing back in the pack, and any mistake could see them ramming right into one of the ships to either side of them, and this ship was Eret's most valuable possession…

Maybe he wasn't worried enough. "Try pulling harder," she said helpfully. The wind tugged at the sail with a particularly forceful gust, and one of the trappers was hoisted off his feet for a moment.

"Didn't cross my mind!" Eret yelled as he yanked down on the guide ropes, pulling his crew back to the deck. "Somebody needs to wave the delay flag at the ships behind us, or Drago will have my hide!"

That, Ruffnut was willing to do. She skipped – it was skipping, not repeatedly slipping on accumulated sleet, and she'd kick anyone who said otherwise – over to the rear of the ship and picked through a pile of crumpled flags until she found the dark orange one, then strung it up on the slender pole kept next to the pile for exactly this purpose.

Shouting across to the ships behind them would have been just as effective and a great deal quicker, but that wasn't how Drago wanted it done. As Drago's trusted right hand woman – for real now, so long as nobody told him he wasn't just forgetful – she had to do things by the book. If he had a book. He seemed like the kind of guy to carve his orders onto stone tablets and smite anyone who broke them.

She waved the orange flag, whipping in the wind, and waited until the two ships behind them began tacking to either side, clearing a space for them if they fell any further behind. "We're clear!" she yelled for Eret's benefit.

"Good, because this sail is a worthless piece of junk!" Eret yelled. Ruffnut turned around to see him and his men pulling the sail down. She had thought the ships behind them were getting closer awfully quickly.

"Wind ripped it," one of Eret's smarter minions revealed, pulling at a not-so-small tear in the canvas. "Musta been tearing already."

That, or someone had snuck onto their ship in the dead of night, armed with nothing but a knife and a clever plan, and put some unnoticeably small rips in the sail so they'd spread and ruin it as soon as the wind filled it for any length of time…

"I'll go check the hold for a replacement," Ruffnut volunteered. "You get one of those ships passing us to slow down for a minute and give us their spare, just in case we don't have one." They'd be at the very back of the fleet before long, and the time window for any of the other ships to help them without also getting stuck behind everybody else was closing.

"Good point, good point," Eret agreed, kicking a tangled pile of rope out of the way as he stomped across the deck. He wasn't the most appealing of figures at the moment, clad in a heavy coat and anxiously barking orders. Everything was going wrong on this, most important of mornings.

She might have had a not-insignificant hand in the cascade of issues, so she couldn't exactly blame him. He'd cheer up once he realized that Drago wouldn't care that one trapper ship had fallen behind the entire fleet, so long as it was obvious they were still following and not deserting. It wasn't like Eret's crew would add much to the coming battle anyway. They'd be a lot more useful behind the crowd, and a lot more likely to survive the battle alive and with their ship intact.

That was important. Ruffnut descended into the cramped hold of the ship, wove her way through a scattered maze of empty cages, and quickly located the backup sail. Eret and his crew couldn't captain her getaway ship if they were dead, or if their ship was stuck in the middle of a whole mass of ships. And she needed a getaway ship; Toothless might be getting a tailfin air-delivered today, but there was no such solution to get Einn back into the air.

Or maybe there was; she hadn't asked Maour about it. But she was going to bet that there wasn't, and plan accordingly. One never set out to steal something without having a way to actually steal it. That included ways to transport flightless dragons.

"Got the sail!" she heard from above. It sounded like the ships currently passing them weren't annoyed enough with their slowness to withhold help. Good for them…

She turned away from the backup sail and the bottle of invaluable dragon-incapacitating liquor nestled within it. She was ready for whatever might happen. So long as Drago defeated the ice nest's alpha, and Maour and Von got Toothless and Einn out of wherever they were being kept, she was ready to provide a way home. Just as soon as she figured out how to get Eret and his crew to desert Drago's fleet and take a months-long journey without any pay.

She'd come up with an answer to that at some point. There was no fun in planning out everything.

O-O-O

'Water,' Von called out. She stood in the door of their cabin, blocking the way out. Her saddle lay on the ground between them, splayed out in all of its complex red-dyed glory.

"Three waterskins on the saddle, one tin in the saddle," Maour answered. "Bandages?"

'You put them in the seat as extra padding,' Von answered. The ship rocked to the side, presumably swept by a wave, and he leaned against the wall to stop from tripping over himself. 'Scythe?'

"On my back, ready to go. My cloak is under my armor, and I've got my helmet." He hadn't worn it last time, in an attempt to connect with the mysterious dragon rider. This time he was not going for approachability, so his black-scaled helmet was going on and staying on until the fight was over. If the rider tried to knock him over the head with their staff, he'd hopefully avoid getting his skull split.

'Your boots?' Von asked, looking down at his feet. 'You said something about them not being great for ice…'

"I decided not to alter them," he answered. "I could put spikes on the bottoms, but that would probably mess with my balance and this is not a good time to try new things." Also, the forges were apparently dead while the fleet moved at full speed. Trying to hammer red-hot iron on a ship that was rocking violently didn't sound like a good idea. 'How about you?'

'I have claws,' Von snorted. 'My base fin is fine, if that was what you meant. I'm ready for a fight.'

"Then it sounds like we're ready to go," Maour concluded. He bent over to lift the saddle, and Von came into the cabin to present her back. They worked together to put it on, moving efficiently. It was a quick process, far quicker than putting Toothless' saddle on ever was.

He'd be doing that today, if all went well. The actual saddle component would be missing, there wasn't space for Von to carry a whole other saddle into battle, but the tailfin was disassembled and stored in the various pouches. He had enough to get it on Toothless and get them into the air.

Once the last strap was tightened, he climbed aboard and Von left the ship's confines, trotting down the corridor and up into the driving snow. They took to the air amidst a flurry of displaced snowflakes and cold winds, and quickly soared up above the fleet.

The air was crowded directly above the fleet; armored dragons were everywhere, most carrying a soldier or even two. Said soldiers brandished nets, hooks, spears, and all manner of dragon-fighting paraphernalia.

Von received several greeting roars as she flew up through their domain, and a few of the soldiers called out to Maour. It was strange, sharing the sky with so many dragons and their riders.

Not that Maour would call the soldiers being carried about riders; that title implied one was more than an armed passenger, and he didn't get the sense that any of the soldiers were truly comfortable in the air. They were up here because they were ordered to be, so as to strike at enemy dragons more effectively, and that was all. The dragons were carrying them for the same reasons. There was no love lost between them.

But they were allies, and that was still better than any human-dragon dynamic he had seen beyond the influence of the Isle of Night. He hoped their alliance would survive the coming day's carnage.

O-O-O

The edge of the ice field was not a strictly defined point; the larger icebergs that made it impossible to traverse by ship petered out, but many smaller icebergs floated in the water around them, creating a hazardous warning that one was sailing too close.

Drago's fleet was sailing straight for the ice field, and the leading ships were a few moments away from crashing into the first few smaller chunks of ice littering the water. It was, at first glance, an imminent disaster. The lead ships were metal-plated and could likely survive the first dozen impacts more or less unscathed, but no amount of metal would see them through the small mountain's worth of solid ice that they were headed for.

It looked like a disaster in the making, a ridiculous expression of hubris on the part of whoever decided they would be fine. Von knew better, but as far as she knew, the average sailor or soldier did not. Yet they still sailed, trusting their leader to see them through the seemingly impossible.

The ships' bells rang out, and the dark, cloaked hulk of a person stood at the very front of the lead ship began to swing his bullhook. The scene was curiously silent from so high above the fleet, and took on a menacingly foreboding quality, at least to Von. The bubbling, churning water that sprouted up in front of the fleet, even more so.

The tusks came first out of the churning waters, two white, unsullied spires of ivory spearing up from the depths. The head that followed was a scaled bulk similar to a smaller iceberg on its own, and the hunched back that followed was no different, save for the darker spines running down the middle.

This was the first time Von had seen more than a tiny portion of the King up above the water, and she was grateful for it. She didn't want to fly anywhere near him, and had she known just how intimidating he was, she would never have spoken to him at all.

"He's bigger than the Queen ever was," Maour said softly. "Bulkier. Only the two eyes. I don't think he can fly."

Von wasn't even sure if he had wings at all; the chaotic assortment of rugged scales and dark spines that made up his back was textured and complicated enough that she couldn't tell whether she was looking at his back or messy wings held close. She couldn't imagine something so huge ever being supported by the air anyway, wings or not.

The King tossed his head, massive tusks sweeping through the air in front of him and leaving visible flurries of disturbed snow caught in the wake of his movements. His huge body surged forward in the water, massive waves crashing together in his wake, and in moments he was upon the first of the smaller icebergs.

Said iceberg ceased to exist a heartbeat later, dashed to frozen splinters against his chest. The cracking of ice shattering was so loud Von heard it, high and far away though she was. More cracks followed as the King pushed his way through the outskirts of the ice field, clearing a path all the way up to the first real iceberg.

He stopped there, but only for a moment. Enough time for Von to really take in how, compared to him, the iceberg really wasn't that large. Larger than him, but not by much. Not in height, for certain. Too big to smash outright, but no longer so large as to defy the imagination.

The King dropped lower in the water, swam to the side, and found the place where one massive iceberg met another. He jammed his tusk there, twisting his head to the side to get them both into the gap, and heaved to one side.

Every movement was slow and ponderous, but there was nothing slow or gradual about the forceful widening of a gap large enough for four of Drago's ships to fit side by side. Screeching, ear-numbing crackling rang through the air, just dull enough for Von to tolerate it instead of dropping out of the air. Many of the armored dragons faltered, their helmets likely echoing the noise.

The King paid them no heed; his task had only just begun. He swam into the gap, barely fitting himself, and continued to use his tusks to pry, push, and on occasion break the icebergs to create a zig-zagging passage large enough for a fleet. The noise was truly terrifying, the sort of thing Von would have fled as fast as she could were she not sure the origin was on her side.

"This was his plan all along," Maour murmured to her, only audible because the mental component of his voice could not be drowned out by physical noise. "Drago never needed to worry about getting through the ice field. He just needed to be confident he could survive the attack that would follow."

'The attack that's going to be coming soon,' Von said, shaking her head and trying her best to clear her vision. 'Everyone within a day's flight had to have heard that.'

O-O-O

Einn had never succeeded at anything. His entire life could be accurately summarized solely by listing out his many, many failures. Some understandable, some tolerable, and some unforgivable. He was a miserable excuse for a dragon, and he knew it well. Even when he tried to be self-sacrificing, he failed. It was no wonder that he had decided, upon his latest failure, that if he could not hide and sleep away the rest of his failure-ridden existence he would at least give it his best shot.

The Skrill tried to break him out of his stupor with shocks and taunts, or at least Sadistic had the entire flight back to the ice nest. His failure and subsequent disinterest had told the other Skrill he wasn't worth bothering, and they left him in peace. They didn't even try to enforce the rule against sleeping in the day when it came to him. Such a small privilege… It was still the kindest thing they had ever done for a prisoner. He did his best not to think about it.

Hefnd tried to get him to respond. Day in and day out, his only child poked and prodded at him, alternatively doting and frustrated in turn. They had never spoken much – there was often nothing new that could be said, and nothing worth him saying aloud – but his total lack of reaction was unwelcome. He suspected his son would rather he either have successfully escaped… or truly died as the Skrill thought. Failing that, Hefnd would rather things went back to the way they were, but Einn just couldn't do it. He feigned sleep, or a waking stupor, until Hefnd gave up.

The days turned to weeks, and Einn did his best to be as active as a dragon in a coma. He slept more than was strictly healthy. He ignored the talking, arguing, and the few occasional roars around him. When Hefnd brought food, he ate it and went back to ignoring everything around him.

He was uncomfortable and bored out of his mind, but he was at least not making any more mistakes. Not failing to protect anyone, or failing to give warning, or failing to do the right thing.

If he could have continued like that indefinitely, he might have been… satisfied. Not content, not happy, but neither of those was possible given where he was and who was with him.

But his was a life of failure. Including a growing failure to hide from life and hope, as fragile and foolish as either might be.

Kappi, the young male who had been captured with him, could not be ignored. Not when he was angry, not when he spoke with conviction. There was something to him that clawed at the deepest part of Einn, telling him without words or reason that he needed to listen. Nevermind that he didn't know or particularly care about Kappi. Nevermind that he was committed to ignoring his own son, let alone some stranger. His ears twitched whenever Kappi raised his voice, and he couldn't stop listening.

That cracked his resolve to not think, and other things followed. He missed Eldurhjarta, for one thing. Her well-meaning orders had made him feel safe, and having someone actually looking after his health was a privilege he sorely missed. His chest hurt most days, and he was reminded of her every time it twinged badly enough to take his breath away.

He missed the sun, too. Their island paradise had been terrifyingly open, but now that he was a prisoner again, unable to see the sun, he missed the nerve-wracking openness. His scales itched to be bathed in warmth once more, and no amount of chilled sleep or lethargic lying around could make up for the missing heat.

And then there was the freedom of being on the run. The strange humans he met along the way. The satisfaction that came with waking up somewhere other than an icy pit. Being able to eat his fill.

All things he could ignore. Things he was ignoring… Until Kappi spoke up. Whether it was in defense of Grey, or general frustration, or tearing metaphorical chunks out of Star for her behaviour, he couldn't help but listen and think.

Kappi was planning an escape attempt. Another one, given his first attempt had failed. He got further than Einn had on his first attempt. Or his second, or third, for that matter. He'd been caught a pawful of times before the mounting retribution from the Skrill broke him so thoroughly they genuinely thought they'd accidentally killed him, and that pawful of failures hadn't been his only attempts, just his most serious.

Kappi had a plan that needed them all. Einn was failing miserably at locking himself away from his own life. The conclusion seemed obvious. Something in him was pulling him to heed Kappi anyway. He might as well. Maybe somebody else could make something useful of him.

So when Kappi lectured, he gave up. He looked up, listened, and rejoined the land of the living. It was easier than trying to stay away any longer.

'There are whole groups of humans who don't mind us now,' Kappi said one afternoon. They were all gathered around the pond, save for Grey. Einn was huddled up next to his son, who had Star on his other side. Kappi sat apart from them, looking out at the ice nest through the transparent wall. His voice was low, and Condescending could not properly hear him from her perch. Not that she cared to; plotting was mostly useless in the face of the overwhelming obstacles associated with escaping, and the Skrill welcomed any attempt to kill them as futile and amusing. Or at least some of them did. All probably hoped that they could accidentally go too far if they were genuinely put on the back paw by a surprise attack they didn't see coming.

All of which allowed Kappi to talk about whatever he wanted, so long as he wasn't too worried about the occasional statement being overheard.

'You say now… what was done to make them not mind us?' Hefnd asked. His tone was derisive, and his tail flicked restlessly, but from him that was equivalent to deep respect.

'Lots of boring talking,' Kappi answered, as if talking to humans was something so unremarkable he considered it boring. 'And a war. Or maybe two, depending on how you count them. Turns out, humans tend to like us a lot better when we're helping stop other, worse humans.' He flicked his ears dismissively, and Einn noticed that he was watching the four-winged dragon and his pet human out in the nest proper.

'So you killed their enemies for them,' Hefnd snorted.

'Well, we ended up sticking the crazy leader in a cell…' Kappi corrected, still looking out at the nest. In another time and place Einn would have considered it rude for Kappi to be talking to them without looking at them, but it was a good way to keep the Skrill from noticing that they were talking at all. The less the Skrill knew, the better, even if none of this was particularly important or beating-worthy. 'Not like this, though,' he added after a short pause. 'There is a reason for it, and he is treated much better than we are here. He is in there because of the things he did, and to keep the new leader of his pack from getting too full of himself. Nobody likes the threat of having the last guy brought back to turn the pack on itself.'

'The Skrill tell us they have good reasons for keeping us here,' Hefnd drawled. He was trying to pick at Kappi, but not nearly as aggressively as he had in the past. Einn wondered if his son was feeling Kappi's importance the way he was, or if his mellowing discontent was merely a product of getting used to the other young male's presence.

He shouldn't care… but he had found it impossible to stop himself from caring.

'The difference is I and many others saw him do the things he is accused of,' Kappi retorted. 'I do not go around claiming he is a horrible person and then refusing to explain why or what he did. There are hundreds of dragons and humans who could tell you all he has done and exactly how bad it was. I could now, if you really wanted to hear it.'

'Obviously we do,' Star said with a low huff. 'You cannot tell us you have what sounds like a long, interesting story and then act like we do not want to hear it.' Unlike Hefnd, her dislike for Kappi remained the same, though less openly confrontational. She had avoided the subject of Grey ever since Kappi's rant, but that was the only change in her behavior.

'I'll go over everything I can in excruciating detail, then,' Kappi conceded. 'Might take all day, which I suppose is ideal…'

Einn remembered days spent shivering and listening to others tell long tales. He himself had spoken more often than not, back when the ice nest was new and their imprisonment seemingly a temporary hardship to endure until they figured out their inevitable escape. Back when Hefnd was less angry, Star more open and genuine, and Grey… Grey had not changed, save for bearing Star's increasing disdain as if it meant nothing to her.

It had been a long time since they'd exhausted their supply of interesting stories. There was no such thing as a pleasant day in the ice nest, not for a Night Fury, but if Kappi really did have a long and interesting story to pass the time, this could come close.

Einn shifted his head, turning to the side to look out the ice wall. The constant blur of motion and deceptively carefree life out there was usually a thorn in his heart, but if he forgot what, exactly, he was looking at, it could be a pleasant view to go with the story Kappi was going to tell.

'I'll start with explaining what I know of humans,' Kappi began. 'It's important, because Dagur was human and most of those who fought him were too. I assume you all have at least seen one before…'

The nest was unusually full on this day; Einn supposed that meant the weather was bad. He was thankful the same icy roof that denied them the sky at least protected them from the weather as well. Only a few of the dragons outside were coming or going out the top of the nest; most were lazing around, sleeping late or doing small, unimportant things that kept them inside.

'They walk on two limbs and have tiny heads,' Hefnd said. 'Easily avoided and even more easily killed in small numbers.'

Einn hadn't taught him the killing part. It was always easier to fly away than to stay and fight when the enemy had no wings to follow. That particular lesson was a bitter one now, if he stopped to think about it.

Two bright blue Nadders came down into the nest, their flashy scales and plummeting dives serving to draw his attention. He watched as one flew down to the mountain of white scales that was the nests' alpha, while the other split off to go speak to the four-winged dragon. Something unusual was happening, for the two most important dragons in the nest to be needed.

Unusual, but likely irrelevant. Another raid was probably going to go out today, bad weather notwithstanding. That meant nothing to the prisoners, save perhaps for one of the Skrill going with them. Sadistic had yet to return to the guard rotation, so he was still injured. Maybe he would go anyway, or maybe the Skrill would send another… Or, most likely, no Skrill would participate this time, and life behind the translucent wall would continue as it always had with absolutely no changes.

'In small numbers, yes,' Kappi rumbled. 'When they don't know what they're doing. But attacking their nests is always risky.' It sounded as if he spoke from experience, which he almost certainly did. Einn had never attacked a human nest before; the closest he had gotten to such a thing was his encounter with the helpful humans during a lightning storm while he fled the Skrill, and he knew what had happened there was in no way normal.

Something crashed in the distance.

Einn flinched at the sudden noise, though it was barely louder than the usual background noise of the nest. The other Night Furies flinched too. A noise could be quiet but large, and that one had not come from anywhere nearby… The noises of the ice field around the nest were sometimes loud, and sometimes eerie, but never so gratingly sudden.

'What was that?' Kappi asked, his ears twitching.

The distant crash happened again, and then twice more. It settled into an intermittent thunderous scraping sound, gradually growing louder.

The dragons in the nest proper all heard it too; many began to look around worriedly, as if imagining the ice nest crashing down on them. The sound was not coming from the ice nest, it was distant, but the implied violence of the noise was undeniable.

'Seriously, what is that?' Kappi repeated. 'I've heard quieter thunder.'

Einn didn't have an answer for him, and neither did Hefnd or Star. The King, on the other paw?

The King rose from his place in the water in the middle of the ice nest, a towering mass of pure white scales. 'The humans are coming,' he thundered, his voice so loud the entire nest could hear him, 'and they are led by one of my kind. Prepare to defend our home!'

Outside the prison, the nest exploded into motion. Inside… Inside, nobody moved.

One of the King's kind. Leading humans here.

Einn had given up trying not to care, but that was different from allowing himself to hope. There might not be anything to hope for in the first place; one ruler might be just like the other, if he even succeeded in taking over. He and his son and the others were all still flightless and trapped. The Skrill wouldn't let them go without a fight, one they couldn't win.

'Tolerable, we must fight!' Angry, sparking like a small thunderstorm, flew up to their inattentive guard and shot a small bolt of lightning at him. 'Come, the alpha says we are needed!'

'The alpha is not going to…' Tolerable looked down at them. His eyes narrowed as he saw them all grouped together, save for Grey. 'Use them? To fight?'

'I asked, he said we do not need them,' Angry explained. 'It is too bad, if they fought they might die.'

'That is why I asked,' Tolerable snarled. 'We are to leave them?'

'Sadistic is going to come back here and watch them since he is still injured,' Angry said. 'Come on, lets go! We are going to strike them before they get anywhere in the ice field, if we do not fly now we will be late.' True to his word, dragons were already spiralling up in large groups, headed out of the ice nest and toward the fight. The King was gone, sunk under the water to take his own way out of the nest.

'If he was not ordered to do so directly he won't,' Tolerable said as he leaped off his perch. 'Maybe. But we have been ordered to go, and he has his orders…' He glanced down at Einn and the others as he flew away, but that was all.

Einn knew better than to think Tolerable was showing them mercy. He wanted them all dead and could not kill them himself. He probably hoped they would break out and somehow get killed without him needing to do anything. The fight would begin at the far edge of the ice fields, but it might not stay there.

The safe thing to do would be to hunker down, wait, and hope for a miracle.

'Time to go,' Kappi announced. 'We're getting out of here. Today.'

Einn saw Hefnd nodding, and Star keeping her mouth shut. He saw Grey peeking out from her usual hiding place. He heard the conviction in Kappi's words.

He would follow. Everything he did ended up a miserable failure, but the same didn't apply to Kappi.

O-O-O

Author's Note:  Did you know that icebergs naturally make some really cool noises as they scrape together, break, and do other such things? Look it up on Youtube. These are  not  the same noises as those one would get from a massive dragon smashing and shoving his way through a smaller iceberg field, but they're still cool. I might need to go back and edit some parts of this story to mention the unearthly noises the ice nest must regularly hear from the surrounding ice field. I didn't know about the noises ice makes until today, when I was trying to figure out just how loud the Bewilderbeast would have to be to be heard at the ice nest.

Also, in response to a helpful guest reviewer who just recently commented on Living Anonymously, who I of course cannot hope to answer in any other manner: Yes, Icelandic (from which all of these Night Fury names are taken) probably should be recognizable for the humans in the story. If it is indeed Icelandic… which it is not. Not necessarily in-story.

Why would I say such a strange thing? Well, think about it this way. The average Viking isn't going around speaking mostly modern-day English during this time period in real life, are they? Presumably what we're reading is 'translated' so we can understand it (obviously I write in English to start with, there's no actual translation, but you get my point). So if we cannot say they are  speaking  English, then we also cannot actually claim the names of Night Furies  are  Icelandic by the same measure. All we know is that we are not reading it in the languages that would actually be used, and that the two languages involved are not the same. Anything and everything beyond that is unknown. I'm only writing the other language as Icelandic because I wanted there to be a second, partially obsolete language the Furies knew, I didn't want to make a whole language up, and it would be weird to use a second language that was  not  relevant to the setting.

In another, more grounded setting I would totally address this issue in a more realistic fashion. Much like how I go deeper into dragon culture in  Unwilling Flame,  where here it's pretty generic. But for the scope of this story, 'it's not actually Icelandic in-story' is my answer to any real-life language complications that might otherwise arise.

You know, I really liked that question / comment. It's an interesting thing nobody else has ever pointed out about this series. Little meta details like that abound in some areas of what I do, but it's very much a 'if it's done right nobody tends to notice' deal.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

The ice nest was in a quickly-departing turmoil. Horrible crashing echoed in the distance, ominous and louder with each echoing report. The King was gone, his subjects were rallying to repel the oncoming invasion, and the Skrill had left the Night Fury prisoners alone in the hope that they'd get themselves killed trying to capitalize on the situation. Whatever happened, it wasn't like grounded Night Furies could escape an ice field surrounded by an inhospitable sea.

'Time to go,' Toothless announced. 'We're getting out of here. Today.'

The Skrill had forgotten the Night Fury flying for their enemies. They had forgotten the human that Toothless had on his back when he was captured.

Or maybe they hadn't. He wasn't going to let his guard down on that front. He had all of his fire and his injuries were mostly healed. The time for cowering before the Skrill in the hopes of avoiding conflict was over. Rescue had come, and he was going to lead Grey and the other prisoners out to meet it.

'We still can't fly,' Hefnd growled. Star and Einn both looked to him. Grey was crawling out from under the rock pile; she had no doubts as to their plan. Even though it wasn't much different from the last one.

'Did I not just tell you about friendly humans?' Toothless asked dryly. 'Sure, I didn't get very far, but I would think the human invasion that apparently has a Night Fury with it might help you make the connection.'

'They're yours?' Star asked incredulously.

'Not sure by how much,' Toothless admitted, 'so don't go walking up to the first one you see, just follow my lead. They must be allies of some sort if my sister flies for them.' He didn't know the exact details, but Maour and Von would have worked that out beforehand. All he had to do was find them and bring the other Furies to them. They'd have the rest planned out.

'Or she's been taken and forced to obey by another King who would rather have a slave than a prisoner,' Hefnd pointed out. He rose to his paws, shaking himself vigorously. 'You might be going right into the same trap.'

'Maybe,' Toothless conceded. He didn't like it, and Maour couldn't possibly have been snared the way Von might have been, but he couldn't deny that it was possible. Maour might have pushed forward anyway, biding his time and planning to free Von once the other King had begun this invasion. It would be a risky plan, but if Maour was desperate or confident enough…

Still, it was better than nothing. 'But-' he began.

'Don't get me wrong,' Hefnd spoke over him, 'we're coming anyway. Better a slave who gets to do things than a prisoner left to waste away.'

'Maybe you think so,' Star huffed. Einn had stood, and Toothless could hear Grey padding up behind him, but Star remained stubbornly on her stomach, paws tucked neatly beneath her. 'I don't. Go get killed, I'm staying here.'

Toothless was sorely tempted to let her make that decision and leave her. He wasn't compelled to save everyone, if she didn't want to go he didn't have to waste time convincing her. But his plan got more and more feasible the more fire he had on paw, and he didn't want to leave anyone here if he could help it.

He'd try once. Only once. 'What do you risk by going with us that you don't by staying here?' he asked briskly. The nest was almost empty, and he could see some larger dragons with faded scales leading the boisterous fledglings into some recessed caves high in the ice nest's interior walls. In a few moments they'd be clear to try and leave.

'Death or disfigurement,' she huffed.

'Nobody out there can or will kill you,' Toothless countered. He didn't like trying to argue Star into listening to him while looming over her still-sitting form, so he took a few steps back and turned toward the ice wall. 'The Skrill cannot, the other dragons of this nest cannot,' or so he assumed as they'd never tried and it would be a poor order if the Skrill could bypass it simply by letting somebody else do the dirty work, 'and the invaders are on our side. Who would kill you? At worst, you will get snatched up by a Skrill and dumped back here, and that's not going to happen.'

'We might be leaving,' Grey chimed in, her voice low and her tone serious enough that Star glared at her. 'All of us… Except you? It is so much worse, being here alone. I know.'

'You're weak and stupid, I'd be fine,' Star growled. But a full-body shiver worked its way over her, and Toothless could imagine the thoughts running through her head. No Hefnd to share body heat, no Grey to mock, no companions to speak to at all, the undivided attention and rage of all the Skrill...

Star flicked her tail against the ground, leaned forward, then forced herself up with a spryness that belied her obvious disdain for the idea. 'I will come along, but when the Skrill catch us you will claim you forced me to follow.'

'Deal,' Toothless agreed. He'd be tortured to the brink of death if they got caught regardless; Sadistic alone would be in a towering fury. He had no problem promising to try and protect Star. He'd do the same for the others, at that. But it wasn't going to happen, so Star's cooperation had been secured at no real cost.

'Keep the slug away from me,' Star huffed, tossing her head at Grey.

'As if I would ever want to be around you,' Grey all but barked. Hefnd's eyes widened as Star snarled viciously at her–

Toothless stepped between the two of them before Grey's unexpected display of her spine turned into a real squabble. 'No infighting while we're trying to escape,' he snarled. 'We need to go. Now. Time is slipping away.' The last few able-bodied dragons were slipping away, and those guarding the young were so deep in the ice caves they wouldn't see anything going on in the nest proper. Even if they did, they wouldn't risk intervening because that would mean leaving the young unprotected.

'Agreed,' Hefnd huffed. 'No clawing at each other.'

Toothless took Star's wordless huff as the closest thing to agreement he was likely to get out of her and considered the matter settled. He loped over to the far side of the half-circle of stone and dirt walled in by ice, his remaining bruises and cuts barely aching at all. The ice wall by the waste pit could be melted, a hole could be made, they'd done it before.

But a lack of fire had stymied them last time, and he was loath to waste any when there might be another way. Especially as the alternative was something he'd wanted to do ever since he first saw the clear, thin wall of ice that was meant to keep them in.

He pulled himself into a flat-out run for the last half-dozen paces, leaped over where they dropped their waste, and twisted at the last moment, ramming his shoulder and uninjured front paw through the ice. It shattered around him, scraping his scales in the heartbeat it took his body to travel through, and then he hit the rough stone ledge on the other side, rolling and hopping up immediately.

Behind him, the hole in the ice wall was rapidly expanding, cracks spreading and chunks falling with a staccato series of ear-piercing crashes perfectly audible over the background thumping that had yet to so much as pause. The expansion of the hole stopped at about half the wall's height, a jagged opening that threatened the integrity of the entire wall if anything weakened it any further.

'You don't get all the fun,' Hefnd barked from within the enclosure. He sidled to the side and hip-checked the wall a ways down from the original hole. Massive cracks jolted out from where he struck.

'Wait until we're out, idiot,' Star said waspishly, primly leaping out over the waste pit to land on all four paws by Toothless, moving with a practiced grace he was surprised she still had after so long flightless. Grey's following leap was not nearly as graceful, though it got her across just fine, and Einn almost tripped even though he'd been flying not that long ago.

Despite the urgency of the situation, they all stopped to watch as Hefnd struck the wall again. He smacked his shoulder against it, then lashed out with the hard edge of a crooked wing when that wasn't enough, sending opaque cracks spidering through the length of the wall.

The whole thing collapsed as a single unit with absolutely no warning, the bottom giving out between Toothless' hole and Hefnd's efforts, and taking the rest of it with it. Hefnd hopped back with a satisfied roar as the entire thing fell outward, most of it crashing into the rocks far below.

'Now let's do the same to this entire mountain,' he said as he came over to leap across to the stone ledge adjacent to the now open plateau they'd spent so long trapped on.

'It'll take a lot more strength than we have to knock the entire ice mountain over, but I would if I could,' Toothless huffed. The King could do it… Maybe they'd see it demolished, if everything went well today. He'd be satisfied with just never seeing it again, though. 'We can definitely make a hole, though.'

'That's a terrible idea,' Star objected. 'Climbing out is much easier.'

'You'd know,' Toothless muttered. That had been Sadistic's lie as to what Star had been caught doing when she allegedly tried to escape with him and Grey. He still didn't know what had really happened there, or if Star had been climbing anything at all. Maybe she had, but he doubted it.

'Climbing ice is like climbing a tree,' Star said to the group, pointedly not looking at Grey. She turned her tail on them to quickly lope over to the nearest ice wall. They were at the top of the stone ledges, quite close to where ice came up behind stone to form the inward-sloping cone of the nest. 'Dig your claws in and don't think about falling.'

With that less than encouraging advice given, she reared up and slapped her front paws against the ice, dragging down and scratching off a small shower of ice shards, digging her claws in deep. Toothless watched as she lifted herself up, sunk her back claws in, and proceeded to pull herself up another half a body length.

'Father and I tried this once, didn't get anywhere before we were spotted,' Hefnd said thoughtfully. 'It's worth a try, so long as you don't mind the fall being fatal once you get high enough. Get halfway, and you're either getting out or falling to your death when you get tired.'

Toothless had assumed as much, and was surprised Star was willing to risk such an all or nothing escape route after not even being sure about whether she wanted to try at all. He certainly liked the idea of melting a tunnel better than climbing…

But Hefnd was following Star's lead, and Einn was stretching his limbs out in preparation. Grey was looking at Toothless anxiously. 'We don't have to climb, do we?' she asked.

He would have said nobody was climbing, had he been asked a moment ago. But now Star was going and he doubted his ability to call her down, and Hefnd was following her lead. He suspected it wasn't his choice any longer whether some of them at least tried it. And he needed everybody's fire to prevent a repeat of his last escape attempt. He and Grey didn't have enough on their own.

'I didn't intend to,' he growled, feeling torn. He could try to exert his mostly nonexistent authority as the leader of this escape attempt and get the others down, but that might not do anything except make him feel stupid. He could follow, but then things really could go wrong, worse than just getting caught or failing to escape.

Einn hesitated from where he was pawing at the base of the ice wall, looking back at Toothless and Grey.

That might make three. Three sets of fire could maybe do it where two had failed.

He didn't feel confident in his own ability to get all the way up to the nest's circular opening in the ceiling. It was a long climb, one that would require the climber to hang almost upside down at several points, and never so easy as to be purely vertical, let alone sloped in any helpful manner. Grey certainly could not make it safely, and he'd say the same of Einn. Star and Hefnd might be confident, but he wouldn't have bet on their malnourished forms housing the raw strength needed to go all that way either.

He'd rather be embarrassed by Hefnd and Star making it than dead from a fall. 'No, we're sticking to the plan,' he decided. 'If they make it, good for them. Einn, are you with us? We need at least one more to melt all the way through the wall.'

Einn nodded resolutely, turning away from the wall.

'Good luck,' Grey called up to the climbers. 'We aren't doing that.'

'Worm,' Star snarled down to them.

'So much for us all getting out together,' Toothless muttered. 'Come on, let's go,' he said more loudly, and set off across the stone. They had a wall to dig into, and after the King wiped away their progress on the last attempt, he needed to figure out which section of the wall was the oldest, and thus the weakest. He thought he remembered the King going around to the Southwest section the day before, meaning today's reinforcement was supposed to be to the South, not that far from the prisoners' pit…

The crashing in the distance was still going, even as Toothless led Grey and Einn around the arced stone ledge, hugging the wall of the nest. It was eerily empty, the sort of emptiness that itched whenever he turned his back to it, and he tried to keep one eye on the open air at all times. The Skrill were nowhere to be found, they wanted him and the others to risk death trying to escape–

Ice shattered on ice behind him, and Hefnd yelped in the distance. Toothless stopped and turned to look, but Hefnd was fine. He had kicked a visible hole in the wall, apparently dislodging a chunk of ice with his weight, but he still had three pawfuls of claws stuck in the ice to keep him there. He and Star were making some progress, but they were still low enough that if they fell they'd probably survive with some serious bruises and maybe a broken limb.

He caught Einn looking too, but that was no surprise. Einn would surely be up there with his son if he thought himself physically capable of following. It wasn't like he was following Toothless for any reason other than a lack of options.

'There's a crack here,' Grey called out. She was walking closest to the wall, looking intently at the ice. Now he knew why. 'We could follow it?'

'Good idea.' They weren't quite at the Southern part of the wall yet, but he was guessing as to exactly which parts had been frozen over anyway. He could feel the phantom claws of Skrill and other enemies at his tail, and his heart was beating too fast to ignore, an insistent pounding in his ears like that of the shattering noises coming from outside the nest. Not directly outside, not yet, but closer than before. The nest might be empty, their escape might seem uncontested, but they were still trapped and the enemy could return at any time. The King could come up and destroy them with ice or with mental dominion, the Skrill could return and strike them with lightning… The latter could be fought, but the former would be irresistible and it could happen at any time.

He realized that he'd stopped walking, and that Grey was clawing at the chest-high crack in the ice she had found. Einn stood behind him, waiting for a cue.

There would be time to have a paranoid freak-out later. If the King showed up he'd figure something out. If the Skrill showed up, he'd do his best to fight and bring them down. He had his fire, he knew how to fight… Being grounded was a massive disadvantage, but he could work around it.

'Start flaming, remember to aim slightly upward so the water drains this way instead of puddling in the tunnel,' he told Grey. The rocky part of the ledge was angled to one side enough that he wasn't worried about water building up there, and it wasn't quite cold enough to freeze so long as it was moving. 'Einn… Watch the top of the nest, tell me if the Skrill show up.'

Einn shot him a truly unimpressed look.

'Growl or something,' Toothless amended. A bright, sustained light in the corner of his eye indicated that Grey had begun to flame. Einn would watch, then switch out with her when she ran out of fire. He would do… something.

Something other than staring at the empty pool of water that could at any time disgorge a monstrous mass of scale and power.

O-O-O

Einn watched from afar as his son painstakingly clawed his way up a sheer ice wall, headed for the ever-elusive illusion of freedom. Hefnd was a ways up, still behind Star but slowly gaining on her as they both ascended. A fall from that height… It would probably be fatal. Their wings might not be crippled enough to be totally worthless – gliding only really required a flat surface, though he'd never seen any of his fellow prisoners do anything with their wings – but they would inevitably either crash into hard stone or the deep, icy water in the middle of the ice nest. Neither would be good for their health.

Behind Einn, Grey was using up the last of her flames in the tunnel. Around them all, the ice shuddered. Kappi was in the tunnel with her, watching or maybe just waiting for his turn. The nest was deathly still, reverberating thumping aside. Whatever was happening outside was coming toward them.

Escapes were supposed to be quick, frantic things. Not this lingering, heart-pounding waiting game. The Skrill were gone, the other dragons were gone, a fight was going on at length outside. They had time to slowly climb or painstakingly melt tunnels, but none of them knew how much.

If he were a less patient dragon, it would be driving him mad. Seeing his son risk his life like this should have been worrying him. But it didn't, not really. Hefnd had made it clear he would do his own thing and go his own way whenever he liked a long time ago, and only them being stuck in this horrible place had kept him around for so long.

If they escaped, this might be the last time he saw his son. He hadn't thought about that, not when escape had always seemed so far away. Now it gnawed at him, but not in a way he could do anything about. Escape came first, everything else was a secondary afterthought.

The ice-shattering crashing noises outside stopped. Their absence rang through his head like a new noise, the silence truly deafening. Star slipped, futilely flapped her barely-crimped wings a few times as she got her grip back, and kept climbing. His son had never stopped.

A King roared nearby. Just outside the nest. Smaller crashing noises echoed faintly in the distance, and other dragons screeched and roared in a growing cacophony, far softer than the previous noise but no less distracting.

'The fight's reached the ice nest itself,' Kappi said, stepping out of the growing tunnel to look around. Nothing inside the nest had changed. Not yet. 'Grey's out, I'm switching with her now. Einn, be ready to use your flame once I'm done.' Sure enough, Grey stepped out behind him, panting heavily.

Einn nodded. However this escape attempt was fated to end, he was along for the journey and would do as he was asked.

Kappi disappeared into the tunnel, leaving Grey with him. She looked up at the wall where Hefnd and Star could be seen, flicking her tail nervously. 'They are pretty far up, now…'

Far, but not far enough. And when they reached the top they'd have to come back down. Kappi's potential human "friends" were the only way anyone was getting away from the ice field, lacking flight, and Einn doubted they'd be able to retrieve a Night Fury from the top of a mountain in the middle of a battle.

But she was right, they were making progress. More than he'd ever seen in any of his own escape attempts.

A little flicker of color right at the top of the nest caught his eye, and he squinted as it descended, trying to make out the little dragon. Whoever they were and whatever their purpose might be, they flew right down past the two climbing Night Furies without even acknowledging their existence. They swooped around the nest's open air for a bit, then flew right back out again.

His chest clenched painfully, and he tried to breathe calmly. The pain would go away, it always did. It struck randomly and disappeared shortly afterward, that was how it worked…

The clenching ache faded, and he was able to breathe easily once more. He missed Eldurhjarta; she had made his aches and pains feel less severe, even when she could do nothing for them. It was comforting just knowing that somebody understood what was happening to him, why things hurt and what to do about them.

Three large dragons dropped in through the top of the nest, two flaming the third even as they fell in a tangle of wings and scales and hard stone plates he had never seen on a dragon before. The two without such strange scales pulled out of the tangled mess just above the water, one narrowly missing the plunge into the icy depths and the other skimming the water before smacking into the shore head-first. The oddly-scaled dragon sank like a stone and didn't come up again.

'Don't see them, don't see them,' Grey chanted quietly as the two surviving dragons shook themselves off and took to the air. Both were Monstrous Nightmares, neither flaming at the moment, and both flew swiftly up towards the exit, back to the fight.

For a moment it seemed like they wouldn't notice the two dark shapes clinging to the wall. Or that they would notice but dismiss it; the Skrill weren't bothering to keep their prisoners in the midst of everything else going on, surely dragons not even tasked with keeping them specifically wouldn't care enough to be diverted from the battle.

Then one doubled back, smoke trailing from his nostrils. He roared something to the other, and they plucked Hefnd and Star off the wall as easily as snagging a dead fish. Both Nightmares flew over to the ice pits and dropped Hefnd and Star in…

But they didn't fly away. They stayed right on top of the pits. Grey muttered something low and likely rude to herself.

'I think they realize that Star and Hefnd could just climb out again if they left,' she said after a moment. 'What do we do?'

O-O-O

Toothless was deep in the ice wall. Sound echoed strangely around him, and his fire refracted through the ice, the light glaring in his eyes until he was forced to partially close them as he worked. He flamed up and down, angling his head to clear out a sloped path upward large enough for his body, but no larger. Chilly water ran like a small stream around and over his paws.

The noises of war were a distant, nearly unintelligible murmur totally overshadowed by the low vibrations running through the wall all around him. The noise was so low it wasn't heard so much as felt in his bones. Something was going on outside, probably multiple things, and none of them were anything short of ominous.

Ominous, but also tempting. He was a third of the way through his fire, and he knew from experience that all of his fire wouldn't be enough to get all the way through, but they had Einn this time. He had to believe that would be enough.

He took a short breather between the end of one shot's worth of flame – a long, measured exhale limited by how long he could go without air – and the beginning of the next, his chest throbbing with the strain of rationing out the explosive power as slowly and steadily as he could.

His next shot's worth of fire got him a ways further into the ice, but other than a lengthening tunnel behind him, there was nothing–

Nothing but an anomaly in the ice in front of him, just to the left of where he was aiming. Everywhere else, the light reflected and refracted at random, but to his left there was a place where it was different. A pattern, not a lack of reflection but a gap, surfaces he could barely see.

There was something there, so he turned to the left and used up the last of that shot uncovering it. A blast of fetid air whooshed out of the cavity as he broke into it, and he coughed out a small bolt of fire by accident, blasting the ice just above the opening to smithereens.

'Waste pit,' he huffed to himself. That smell was distinctive, though he didn't see any waste. The ice was speckled different colors around the air cavity, and he suspected that he didn't want to melt any of the darker ice.

Disgusting evidence of forgotten waste pits aside, it was not a simple hollow in the ice, leading nowhere and providing nothing except a reason to breathe through his mouth alone. It was a jagged crack in the ice, leading left and outward. Toward the outside of the wall.

Better yet, he was pretty sure most of the dragons of the ice nest dropped their waste outside. He didn't know if they did it wherever they pleased or had designated areas, but this seemed to indicate the latter… meaning it might lead quite close to the outside, if not all the way there. It had been sealed up and iced over, but even a single step closer to the outside meant less fire was needed to melt the rest of the way there.

He stepped forward, into the jagged, uneven crack in the ice, and kicked at some of the sharper lumps in his way until he could keep pushing forward. Without his fire it was dark in the wall, and the darker shades of ice around him blocked what little light filtered through from the outside. The stench continued to be unbearable in the way that all foul smells in the otherwise clean chill of Winter tended to be.

The crack, winding and obscured, proved to go quite a ways away from where he had first found it. Most of that distance was travelling along the wall's length, but he estimated that for every three paces he moved to the left, he moved at least a pace toward the outside world, so he followed it to the end.

It proved to be as much of a dead end as he assumed, terminating in a wall of clean ice. An old waste pit, extended and then abandoned and iced over… Useful for him, but not something the King or any other dragon would ever even think about.

It was too bad he didn't need a hiding place; this would have done in a pinch. Anyone who came down the tunnel far enough to reach the waste pit would assume there was nothing worth investigating further. The Skrill wouldn't even be able to fit inside the tunnel's narrow confines.

'Toothless,' Grey murmured in his ear. 'Trouble, Hefnd and Star just got… look for yourself.'

He took the time to back out of the waste pit section of the tunnel, then checked what she was seeing. Star and Hefnd… being bodily carried back to their pits. And trapped there. 'Well… That's bad.'

Bad for Hefnd and Star – though now they weren't risking their lives climbing, at least – and bad for the rest of them, too. Those Nightmares had to know that there were supposed to be five prisoners, not two. All it would take was one of them making the smart decision and sticking Hefnd and Star in the same pit, freeing up the other to go round up reinforcements, and there'd be a hunt for them.

'I think they realize that Star and Hefnd could just climb out again if they left,' Grey said to him. 'What do we do?'

On the one paw, two Monstrous Nightmares. From the brief glance he'd gotten through Grey's eyes before returning to his own vision to make his way back, neither was particularly injured, but both seemed to have been fighting. The fight was still a dull roar in the background, so he knew it was still going. It was just the two of them.

He emerged from the tunnel and saw the forces he had to work with. One scaleless grey Night Fury with little to no combat experience – for that matter, little to no life experience in general – and one scarred male he knew had at the very least outflown two Skrill for a while.

'Einn, with me, we're going to get Hefnd and Star and make sure those two don't go looking for help to put us back where we're supposed to be,' he decided. 'Grey…' She was out of fire, meaning she wouldn't be any use left at the tunnel. But she was so ridiculously defenseless in a real fight, even the Nightmares setting themselves on fire might prove fatal to her if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 'Stay here.'

'I could help,' she protested, but her heart obviously wasn't in it. 'I could… claw at the tunnel? Make it a little longer?'

'You do that,' he agreed. 'Come on, Einn.' It had been a while since he was able to actually feel confident about a fight. He still wasn't, not about this one; they weren't fresh, but neither were he or Einn.

He loped out into the open, running across the curved stone ledges at a steady pace, Einn behind him. They made it maybe a third of the way around before the Nightmares spotted them. A short, inaudible but visibly heated debate later, the smaller of the two Nightmares flew out to them.

'Surrender, this is no time for games,' the Nightmare roared.

'Come here and make us,' Toothless challenged. From a Skrill, the demand might have at least made him think about what was happening. Not so from a Nightmare; he wasn't intimidated at all.

The Nightmare stooped into a shallow dive and picked up a respectable amount of speed by the time he made it to them. He tried to land with his talons on Toothless, but Toothless saw the move coming a good while in advance and simply ducked to the side at the last moment. Talons scraped horribly on stone, and the Nightmare nearly embedded himself in the ice wall, he hit it so hard.

Einn ran up to the visibly stunned Nightmare and raised his claws menacingly at the nearest wing–

'No, don't do that,' Toothless objected, the spark of an idea hitting him just in time. He darted over and jumped on the downed dragon, grabbing ahold of one of the Nightmare's ridiculously oversized horns and putting his full body weight into yanking the head to the side.

The side with the ice wall. The disoriented dragon's skull crashed into the ice for a second time in as many moments, and his eyelids fluttered. A third, less violent yank and he was out, crumpling to the ground in a bundle of wings and long limbs and spikes.

'We might have an ally when he wakes,' Toothless explained to Einn. Knocking a dragon out removed any control the King might have had. So long as the dragons here were, at their core, unwilling followers…

A Nightmare's lava-like fire would be a great help in melting the tunnel. Or just flying them out of the nest altogether; Toothless had seen this very Nightmare carrying Star, though he had struggled with her weight over that short distance.

Yes, this would be a good thing.

A bolt of blue fire shot up from the ice pits, drawing Toothless' attention away from his conquest. He looked up just in time to see the other Nightmare disappearing out of the nest's open top.

That… might not be quite as much of a good thing.

O-O-O

'I bet you're pleased we didn't make it,' Hefnd snarled as he passed Einn. Einn, of course, said nothing. Not that he would have said something if he could; Hefnd's anger was most easily blunted by an unwavering acceptance. He only stayed angry if someone was denying his anger as valid… Or if he had no power to make them sorry.

'More fire for the tunnel, unless you want to try again,' Kappi offered far more nicely than he had to. 'I don't think we have long, though, and you might not want to be out in the open.'

'The Skrill want us to escape and run into the deadly battle going on outside, they won't intervene,' Star huffed. 'Where is this tunnel?'

'Here!' Grey barked, poking her head out of the entrance. 'Come on, we already did most of the work. Somebody with fire needs to be here.' Einn thought that she was getting more energetic the closer they were to escaping. He wondered what she'd be like without the crushing weight of this place burdening her body and mind.

It seemed like they might just find out. If all the lesser dragons were as easily dispatched as that Nightmare had been, Kappi really could lead them out. It would take a Skrill to stop him, or maybe several.

'I'll do better than you,' Star grumbled pettily, stalking over and smacking Grey with her tail as she entered the tunnel. Grey turned to follow after her, apparently too enthusiastic about the tunnel's progress to leave the aggressively rude female alone.

'That's not going to cause any trouble at all,' Kappi huffed, quickly following them in.

'Why do they leave you to keep watch?' Hefnd grumbled, taking up a place next to Einn. 'You can't tell them if someone is coming.'

Einn had wondered much the same thing, but he didn't question it. He had a job and he'd do it. There–

The world shattered in two right behind his head, and the last thing he heard was a truly ear-splitting explosion of obliterated ice.

O-O-O

Author's Note : Why does it end here on such a terrible cliffhanger? Because it was entirely necessary! Suffice to say that next chapter will provide all the much-needed context we're missing here. At least you didn't have to wait an extra week for this one; I might have been late with last chapter, but I'm not going to let that throw me off the schedule. We've only got five chapters and an epilogue to go; this is no time to delay posting! Nothing kills the buildup to a finale quite like it coming out slowly and irregularly.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Ice cracked, crunched, and shattered into boulders large enough to crush small villages as massive tusks smashed and speared the icebergs floating in the way of Drago's fleet. The water churned and splashed in the massive white dragon's wake, chunks of ice floating behind him, drawn in by the rush to fill the void only to be rammed moments later by the armored prows of the leading ships of the armada. The sky was still cloudy and snow was gently falling, but the frosty mist of ice particles kicked up by the sheer amount of destruction floated over the front half of the armada like a fog, further obscuring everything.

Aboard the ships, hundreds of soldiers stood at the ready. In the air, armored dragons bearing restless soldiers swarmed, eagerly anticipating the inevitable response to such a direct assault. The ice nest was a shape in the distance, slowly growing clearer as Drago's dragon battering ram forced a way through the normally impenetrable ice field around it.

The armada would reach the ice nest soon enough, if nothing stopped them.

Maour didn't quite know what Drago intended his forces to do once they reached the ice nest. It wasn't like a human stronghold; there were no fields to raze, no homes to ransack, no forests to burn. The only fortifications were made of ice, and while breaking them down would be helpful in the moment…

The living mountain in front of the fleet ducked down to hoist a smaller iceberg to the side, tusks digging under it to lift its bulk out of the water, and the air itself shook as he tossed it out of the way. He inhaled and subsequently sprayed a massive torrent of water at it, splashing the freezing liquid over the cracking bottom of the iceberg just before it all froze solid, stopping the iceberg from breaking apart and continuing to block the way in smaller pieces.

If the other King could do that, breaking down the mountain was a very temporary setback, nothing more. And Maour didn't even want to think about what such a huge spray of instantly-solidifying water would be able to do to any unlucky dragons caught in its path.

'I am not getting anywhere close to his face,' Von muttered worriedly as she swooped back over the armada. She was higher than most of Drago's dragons, all the better to fully appreciate the scale of what was happening. Much of what was below them was shrouded in ever-increasing amounts of icy mist, but one did not need good eyesight to see what was happening.

"Nobody is that stupid," Maour agreed. He could see indistinct shapes flying up above the nest, grouping together and swarming. It wouldn't be long now; for them to even be visible from here, there had to be scores of them, maybe hundreds. A small cloud of scales and fire and teeth, growing larger by the moment.

Then, even as he watched, the cloud moved as one, away from the nest and toward the invading fleet.

"They come!" one of the dragon-riding soldiers below yelled out. His voice was puny, heard only in the brief and rare pause in the thunderous grinding of icebergs. But dragon communication had no such limitation, and his dragon must have passed the word for him, because all of the armored dragons in the air began flying more purposefully, keeping above the fleet but falling into routes that would take them out over the ice to either side, as well.

Maour knew that Drago had been fighting this particular nest's dragons for a while, much longer than he'd personally been there to witness, so he assumed there was some reasoning behind the way the defending dragons were spreading out to guard the airspace to either side of the fleet. If he and Von were meant to be fighting in the battle proper he might have been compelled to ask someone before the battle started. But he and Von had a different purpose.

Two different purposes, in fact. One set by Drago, and one by their own motivations. They were here to counter the dragon rider and potentially the Skrill. To take the battle to them.

But they were also here to find and save Toothless. Maour had no intention of forgetting that, not even once they were busy dealing with the rider. "Remember, once they've reached the nest-"

'We break away, either down or lose the rider, and find our brother,' Von growled. 'Yes, I remember.'

O-O-O

The attacking dragons came as a group, but when they arrived they immediately split up.

Von had eyes for only one dragon amidst the horde, but she noticed how the battle below was joined; it was impossible not to acknowledge the flashes of fire in the air, the sparks and lava-like rain falling, the blood flashing red against the white of the ice all around them. The rider and their four-winged companion flew above it all, well out of range of the suddenly-developing carnage.

Well out of range of all but Von and Maour. The rider stood astride the four-winged dragon, their strange staff in hand, solemnly staring their way. The four-winged dragon was trying to glare a hole in her head with pure willpower as they glided closer.

"I don't see any Skrill," Maour said tersely, his knees digging into the saddle. "Don't engage yet."

As if she would ever get into a fight when there could be Skrill hiding somewhere. Her father had taught her better than that. The clouds were not that far above her, and she was ready to drop to either side the moment anything came down out of them.

A few tense moments passed as they slowly closed the distance, neither she nor the four-winged dragon flinching from their path. The fight continued below, the massive King continuing his ice-moving rampage unmolested.

Then lightning flashed, silent and deadly, originating from one of the flying dragons in the airborne melee and detonating on the King's scaled back. Two more strikes surged out, and then a belated fourth, all coming from what Von had assumed were large Monstrous Nightmares scattered about the fleet. They'd been fighting without any visible lightning, not even the normal ambient pulses that tended to crackle over their bodies.

It was a clever bit of camouflage, but it had bought them only a single unhindered strike, and the King did not so much as pause to acknowledge the ineffectual bombardment. All of the armored dragons converged on the sources of the lightning, and more struck out at those in the air–

The four-winged dragon surged forward, a veritable tornado of fire blasting from his maw. Von twirled to the side, then dove further out of the rapidly-expanding path of the flames, surprised by the sheer volume of fire. The seeking cloud of fire expanded toward her again – the four-winged dragon undoubtedly turning to track her as he flamed – and she dove again, sacrificing more height to get out of the path of the heat.

And more importantly, to gain sight of him again. She had a shot built up in the back of her throat by the time his flames faded away, and she wasted no time letting it loose at his exposed underbelly.

He saw it coming, but unlike his flames, hers were not so slow and easily dodged. He folded his wings in and fell, but she had anticipated as much – it was always easier to flee downward than any other direction – and her shot detonated on his back, too far down to kill the rider but strong enough that the lithe figure bounced off the back of his head and into empty air.

Von knew better than to think that was the end of anything, and sure enough the four-winged dragon stooped to dive after his falling rider. She took advantage of his momentary distraction to close the gap between them, flying for where she thought he'd catch up with his rider, not far above the highest dueling dragons. Two armored Gronckles were battering a Nightmare into submission, preventing a dangerous rain of heavy liquid fire, but other than that there was nobody close enough to interfere.

She built up another blast in her throat, aiming to put a hole in one or more of those four wings when the dragon tried to arrest his fall. He caught up to his rider, turned into an impressively tight twirl just as he caught them, the wings came out–

A half-formed premonition flashed through her mind, something formed of experience and paranoia, and she twisted at the last moment, flipping forward and using the tips of her wings to drag herself around in the air and fire at the bright light forming in the maw of the Skrill that had come up behind her, all in one breathless moment of panic. Her fire shot out, intercepting the Skrill's lightning blast halfway, and a crackling sphere of something bright erupted from where the two clashed.

It was better than being struck out of the sky just like she had intended to do to the four-winged dragon in turn, but the shockwave hit her all the same and she couldn't fully maintain control of her flight, sacrificing yet more elevation to protect her wings. She flailed at the air, Maour's weight thankfully still on her back, and fell right into the low aerial battle above the fleet.

Things were moving too fast for her to fully think about her next actions; she brought herself out of her fall just short of crashing into the back spines of an armored Monstrous Nightmare, accidentally smacked his head with her chest, and immediately swooped into an unlit cloud of explosive gas from the Zippleback that the Nightmare had been trying to bring down, spotting a brief glimpse of two necks and four beady eyes before the green cloud got in her own eyes and made them water. She was out of the cloud before it could be lit, but that was pure chance, not any conscious choice.

The wind whipped at her face as she flew blindly forward. Maour yelled something unintelligible – something never meant to be a proper word at all, else she'd have understood him whether or not she actually heard him – and his weight yanked at her back, pulling the saddle by the tethers connecting them and jerking her backward. Blood splattered all over her, and something hit her tail, knocking her even further out of anything resembling a sustainable glide and down even further.

She frantically pumped her wings, twisting around to avoid falling with her back to the ground, and blinked to clear her eyes just in time to see the still-unfurled sail she was headed straight for. Rather than trying to avoid it, she just tried to angle herself so she hit paws-first–

The canvas fluttered and folded around her. She desperately scrabbled for purchase anywhere, to climb out of her entrapment, but she fell down, unable to breathe as she held onto whatever her claws could find.

A Skrill screeched overhead and something exploded very close by, but the answering rapid-fire snapping sounds of crossbows and other, more heavy-duty weaponry being fired reassured her enough that she could take a moment to calm down, get her bearings, and drop down to the deck.

She saw through bleary eyes a couple of soldiers manning a net-throwing machine, and another two tossing water on a burning chunk of wood and metal. Every blink brought them into clearer and clearer focus. Her heart was hammering away in her ears, and beyond that the King was still smashing ice in the distance, but she was fine. She wasn't hurt, though after that horrible turn of events, not being hurt was a miracle.

Another bolt of lightning struck at the prow of the ship, throwing wooden splinters everywhere. The net-launching soldiers gamely flung another net in that general direction, but they only got a wounded Nadder who was being brought down anyway. The chaos of battle continued unabated.

"You good?" Maour asked. "I'm singed but fine. Good thing you noticed that Skrill… We should have known he wasn't going to ignore us."

'Same one?' she asked, feeling peculiarly lightheaded. And angry, and ready to rend flesh to bloody ribbons the moment a valid target presented itself, but those feelings were probably normal in the middle of a battle.

"Pretty sure," he confirmed. "We're hunting the rider… He's hunting us."

'Good,' she snarled. 'It'll keep him where we can see him.' This wasn't going to stop her. Not by a long shot. She hadn't put her best paw forward by not anticipating such a thing to start with – the other Skrill really were ignoring her presence on the battlefield, maybe that had given her a false sense of security – but that didn't mean she had lost.

"Going back up?" he asked, his voice surprisingly steady.

'Do I have a choice?' she huffed, shaking her wings out. 'I'm not playing that game again, though.' She'd had enough of fighting a two on three battle with those particular three. 'He wants us, he's going to have to come get us.'

"And the rider?" Maour asked.

'Them too,' she responded. The sky above them was filled with criss-crossing blasts of magma, so she waited, poised to leap up at the first opportunity. A flight of arrows further delayed her, so she kept talking. 'They know they're bait. Ignore them, and they'll try to regain our attention.' That trick with the Skrill had been too easy, too perfectly set up; maybe it was improvisation but it was improvisation with a preordained goal in mind. One Skrill had hung back, the four-winged dragon had acted without worrying about opening himself up for a fatal strike… He knew he was going to be covered. He probably would have given her a false opening if she didn't make one for herself from the start.

The sky cleared, so she took off. The fight was just as hectic as before, though all of the most aggressive risk-takers on either side were dead or captured, as the fights taking place all over the armada had taken on a much more careful quality, dragons flying mostly out of range of the armada's ranged weaponry and moving in small groups. There was still a constant give and take of projectiles going both ways, nobody could fly at a constant elevation and properly fight an airborne enemy, but both sides had settled into an extended grinding conflict, rather than a quick and bloody raid or raid defense.

A few of the unarmored dragons fired on her when they saw her – she fired back at a Nadder who almost spiked Maour with a rain of quills from above, concussing the birdlike dragon – but most did their best to not attract her attention, or were too busy to notice her presence.

It was the latter group she set her sights on, quickly picking out a distracted Monstrous Nightmare engaging two similarly long-necked dragons she didn't have a name for. She flew up under them right as one of the armored dragons swooped down to slash the Nightmare, and Maour lashed out with his scythe at exactly the right time, tearing a gash in the Nightmare's unprotected wing before he even noticed their presence directly under him. A splattering rain of burning liquid splashed down behind her as she beat a hasty retreat, outflying his agonized retaliation.

"Do that enough and they'll have to try and get our attention again?" Maour asked.

"That's the idea," Von said grimly. "Or the Skrill will just find us first." The intermittent flashing of lightning near the front of the armada gave the location of the other Skrill. The King soldiered on despite their repeated blasts at his head and face. Throughout the entire fight, neither he nor the armada had slowed their approach. She was impressed that the sailors could keep their ships going the right direction amidst all the chaos and violence, let alone at the same speed as before.

The battle, or at least her part in it, quickly fell into a perilous pattern of violence and paranoia. She flew around, keeping to the no-fly-zone excluding the unarmored dragons for the most part, looking for vulnerable targets. Whenever she spotted a good one she went up, engaged where they least expected it, and either disabled them herself or let Maour do it, whichever was quicker in the moment.

Neither she nor Maour struck directly lethal blows, and the fall to the ships was survivable, but she was under no illusions as to their ultimate effect. She was faster and subtler than any of the armored dragons, and some of the unarmored dragons even hesitated upon seeing her, two major advantages that let her slip in and out of fights and end them decisively every time. If any single dragon could be said to be making a difference in the overall flow of the battle, it would be her.

If it weren't for the occasional bolt of lightning aimed her way, she might have believed the Skrill had given up on avenging his past defeat. But though he dogged her throughout the battle, he couldn't get too close or fire accurately; the armored dragons prioritized Skrill wherever they could, and every time he struck he was forced to fight off whole groups of enemies converging on his location. Von would have expected devastating explosions of lightning to drop the attackers like rain from the clouds, but none of the Skrill were doing anything like that in this particular battle. It was snowing, but there was no lightning in the clouds and the battle was inevitably going to go long. A Skrill without any lightning in reserve would be as good as dead, and she supposed her opponents knew that and were conserving their power.

That would stop if the Skrill ever felt their side of the fight was losing too badly, and she kept a very close eye on any flashes of lightning, regardless of whether they were aimed at her or not. The battle was big enough that she lost track of her harassing Skrill several times, and he her, so it was a broken-up game of hunter and prey between them, occurring in quick bursts between her attacks on less dangerous dragons and her short breaks on the decks of various ships throughout the armada. Then she spotted a tawny four-winged silhouette on the other side of the fleet, near the King and the constant head-splittingly loud crashing of icebergs. They'd made themselves scarce, but they hadn't left the battle entirely.

She dropped lower, so low she had to sway from side to side to avoid masts no matter which direction she flew, and made for her as of now oblivious targets, entirely aware that the Skrill hadn't fired on her for a while. She once again stalked her prey, and once again another hunter stalked her.

Exactly as planned.

O-O-O

"Never," Ruffnut yelled as she clubbed a Gronckle across the brow, "eat," she swung again and then had to step back as one of Eret's bulkier crewmembers dove off the mast and drove an elbow into its head in a single glorious piledrive, "hagfish!"

The Gronckle collapsed, her eyes rolling back into her head. One more thump of a blunt club between the eyes finished the job, just as the sailor flopped off the Gronckle, clutching his not so gloriously mangled arm. As it turned out, putting his entire body behind a drop onto a hard, scaly surface was too much for a mere mortal elbow to withstand. Or a mortal arm for that matter. Or shoulder.

"It makes your breath stink," Ruffnut concluded, breathing heavily through her mouth. The other sailors tossed a net over the Gronckle's now-limp bulk and hurriedly began the process of shoving said bulk into a cage. Somebody went to the downed sailor and lifted him up by his good arm.

"He's gonna need a shoulder hook," she said to nobody in particular. That arm was not going to be okay.

Something exploded on the ship next to theirs and drowned out any reply she might have gotten. The smell of Zippleback gas filled the air, and an unarmored, two-headed shape flew overhead, trailing an ominous green cloud.

"Hit the deck!" Eret yelled from somewhere behind her, and a lit torch arced up toward the cloud. Ruffnut dropped into a congealing puddle of blood without a second thought. The cloud exploded a heartbeat later, high enough above the ship that it didn't do any damage.

"Get the cage below deck!" Eret ordered, striding into the small cloud of falling embers to slap the cage's bar latch down. His left arm was bare to the shoulder, which would have made Ruffnut a lot happier if it wasn't also severely burned, and his bulging muscles were only somewhat marred by the ugly blisters peeking out from red skin.

Ruffnut sprang to her feet, brushed the congealed blood off of herself as best she could, and lent her help to the cage-pushing along with the remnants of Eret's crew. He'd started the day with over a dozen sailors and a few designated 'trappers' who were basically hunters who didn't go for the kill, but only five of them were still up and on the ship. A few had gone to reinforce other, less fortunate ships mid-battle, one had gotten carried off by a tricky Nadder, and the rest…

Well, the lucky ones were below deck and still in one piece, too injured to do anything useful. The unlucky ones were below deck in many pieces, or in the ocean somewhere behind the armada.

The cage thumped onto the makeshift ramp down into the hold. They'd started out with eight cages, all empty, but this was the last one.

"That's trapping done for today," Eret huffed, wiping his brow as they returned to the deck. The dragons tended to go for the ships with visible crew fighting back, so nothing had happened to the ship in their absence. The sail was even still intact, again because the dragons were targeting the people, not the ships themselves.

Little details like that made Ruffnut wonder how smart the masked rider really was. Surely they had to know that the easiest way to slow the fleet down and stop the advance would be to sabotage their ability to sail… Though that wouldn't stop the massive hunk of ice-breathing destruction leading the armada, so maybe they didn't think it would be worth the effort. Stopping the King would kill the armada's advance in a single blow, but they hadn't made any progress toward that, either. They were just flying around and killing en masse with no larger strategy.

Not that she was looking an eight-legged gift horse in the mouth. If they wanted to go for a good old-fashioned bloody brawl instead of tactical strikes, so much the better.

"Shouldn't have been trying to take 'em alive in the first place, not in this mess," one of Eret's men said rebelliously. He spoke too quietly for Eret to hear him, but Ruffnut was right behind him.

"If you don't want your share of the pay for live captures, just keep complaining," she told him. He spluttered something indignant in reply, but with all the massive crashing noises constantly coming from the front of the fleet it was easy to pretend she hadn't heard–

A small meteor crashed into the deck in front of her and kept going, right through the empty space between her and the complaining sailor. It went straight through the wood and clanged off the top of one of the cages in the hold below.

Ruffnut absently put out the flickering embers that had landed on her tunic, her hand shaking slightly. The very tip of her boot was smoldering, and if she took a step forward she would fall right into the hold."Do we have anyone watching the sky right now?" she croaked.

"On it," the complaining crewmember squeaked, scurrying away to the unmanned ballista.

One upside of life or death battles where death might come instantly; even the stupidest soldiers knew to save minor complaints for after the battle. Now if only the same could be said for minor heart attacks…

Ruffnut stumbled down below the deck with the excuse of checking for fires to smother before they got out of hand – and there were two small blazes caused by the cooling lump of Gronckle lava that some enterprising Gronckle had dropped from afar – and made a beeline for her hidden bottle of dragon-strength alcohol. If there was ever a time to try some of it for herself, it was now, when her nerves needed calming. Or burning with liquid fire of the probably nonlethal variety; she wasn't going to be picky. Not much scared her, but near-misses with completely random instant death made the list.

She managed to get the cork out of the bottle with her hands; whoever had put it in last clearly didn't understand the need for hammering corks home lest they pop off when one's dragon did a backflip on the flight back to the secret drinking spot. The fumes alone made her head spin, and they smelled quite a bit like the battlefield above with a gaudy floral undertone…

Two of the six unconscious dragons groaned, and one even began to stir, knocking their tail against the bars of their cage.

"Knocks them out and wakes them up again," she mused. Her hands were still shaking, she noticed. "I don't even want to know what this is made of."

'I see bright colors,' the semi-conscious Nightmare rumbled unsteadily. His tail continued to thump erratically.

Ruffnut eyed the half-dozen paces that separated her uncorked bottle and the Nightmare. She was having serious second thoughts about drinking any of it, near-death experience notwithstanding. There was stupid and reckless, and then there was ingesting substances that could do that to a much larger creature while in the middle of a battle. That seemed like it would be Tuffnut's thing.

"What's it like?" she asked. Up on deck, someone screamed, but a dragon's shriek quickly followed so she assumed they could fend for themselves for a little while longer.

'You're too little to be here,' the Nightmare grumbled. 'Cages are for big dragons… Not annoying talkers…'

"Yeah, not a dragon and not in a cage." She recorked the bottle and made to put it back in its hiding place, then thought better of it. Worst-case scenario if they got overwhelmed she could smash it on the deck and drop every dragon around. Best-case scenario, she could bribe Eret with it once the armada made it to the nest. He was going to need some sort of incentive to take his ship around and pick up some passengers…

Or he would need a quick kick to the head and an ultimatum once her crew got the ship safely out to the open seas. Pirate Queen Ruffnut had a nice ring to it.

Bottle in hand, she sauntered out to rejoin the fight. The nest loomed large in the not-so-distant distance.

O-O-O

Maour crouched low in the saddle as Von flew them towards the most dangerous part of the running battle. The Skrill were flittering around the massive figure of the King as he cleared the path, occasionally firing ineffectual lightning. The four-winged dragon and his rider were up over the King's head, in a very precarious position were he to ever look up from his self-appointed task and decide to take a break for violence.

He had yet to so much as swat a Skrill out of the sky. Maour was trying not to worry about what that might mean; they were attacking a rival nest, and this King had a habit of enlisting the willing among the captives, it might just be a strategic move… Or it might be something else. They were too close to finally being able to rescue Toothless for unknown complications to start popping up.

But at least the King's continued existence kept the Skrill mostly occupied. Only one was harassing him and Von, and if the way Von flew without checking behind herself at the moment was any indication, she was finally in a position to do something about that. Or she was going to put him in a position to do it…

He was ready if she did. She hadn't told him the plan, but there were very few things he could feasibly do while they were in the air, so she didn't have to. He had a sharp set of metal claws, she had the wings to get him into position, and other dragons had a conceptual blind spot when it came to the idea of danger coming from what would otherwise be an unprotected back. Maybe the four-winged dragon had trained himself out of that, carrying a rider who could probably be lethal with that staff if they tried, but the Skrill?

No, the Skrill knew that it was only luck that had thwarted his initial attempt to kill them, and he was spitting mad with tunnel vision for Von alone if he was anything like the rest of his kind.

Von flipped to the side to avoid a catapulted boulder that had reached surprisingly high, ducked down and pumped her wings to build up speed, then arced up, toward the four-winged dragon and the rider just out of firing range of the lead ship. Rider and dragon both had their back to Von, facing the King, and Von in turn had her back to the Skrill that was undoubtedly behind them, probably slightly below if he was willing to risk it, and closing in because every winglength between them was a fraction of a heartbeat more reaction time Von would have.

He didn't need to turn and look, and neither did Von. Enemies were always at their most predictable when they thought they had an opening.

Von built up a shot in her throat, took aim, and then immediately threw herself into a tight turn to the left. Not a dive, not a flip, but something that got her turned around fast without losing speed or control over her trajectory.

The Skrill was indeed lower than them, maybe two shiplengths away, lightning just building in his maw. Von fired, he fired, and the resulting expanding concussive blast boomed into existence close enough to the Skrill that it knocked him back hard and sent him tumbling.

Last time, they'd been caught unaware and the blast left Von floundering in the air. This time, she and Maour leaned forward and weathered the hit, like a heavy slap to the face coupled with a blast of hot air, and kept going with barely a pause. The Skrill was fighting to stay up, likely aware that if he fell too far he'd be pierced by a score of arrows from eager longbows and ballistae. He would recover in a matter of moments–

If they gave him the chance. Von had no intention of doing so, and Maour was ready to help her out. She flew right at the Skrill, going low at the last moment, and Maour did what he'd done to half a dozen dragons already that day, swinging the bladed end of his scythe out to drag a gaping cut right through where the membrane of the Skrill's left wing met his side, just under where the armpit would have been and all the way to the back of the wing. His hands burned as the resistance nearly tore the scythe out of his grip, and he clenched his legs as hard on the saddle as he could, seeking any additional grip he could find in the moment.

The Skrill shrieked, blood splattered across Maour's front, and Von wheeled around to watch as he fell into the clutches of the armada.

She turned just in time for both her and Maour to catch an inferno straight on.

Maour instinctively shut his eyes and the momentary searing heat he felt even through his helmet proved that a very good reaction. He threw his armored forearms up in front of his head, blocking the bulk of the flames. Von dropped them out of the range of the flames, but his face was lightly scorched and when hastily blinked the smoke out of his eyes, he did not see the Skrill tangled in a net on the boat below. Nor did he see the four-winged dragon and rider.

'No!' Von screeched, stooping down to dart toward the edge of the clear channel the armada was sailing through. The four-winged dragon was flying there too, low and dragging a flashing bulk of screeching fury through the sky.

Maour clenched his teeth at the sight; the rider and their dragon had single-handedly saved the Skrill and maybe kept him in the fight. He wished Toothless was with them now; just having someone in the air to watch their back would have prevented this.

But it wasn't necessarily a loss, and Von was quickly closing the gap. The rider was standing still, facing them even as their dragon flew the opposite direction. That odd staff was pointed right at Maour, as if to warn him off.

Like he cared. He wasn't even here for the rider or the Skrill. He was here for his brother, and they were nuisances standing in his way. If he wasn't worried about them following, he'd ask Von to abandon this stupid fight altogether and head for the nest. But that would surely end in disaster with enemies like this able to follow and strike the moment someone he cared about was vulnerable.

"Ground them," he said through gritted teeth. "If you can't kill, then break one of those wings. Break a leg. Keep them on that iceberg." Von probably knew as much, but it bore repeating in the brief moment of pursuit before his able-bodied and mostly unburdened sister caught up to the bulky dragon hauling his weight again in the form of a singularly ungrateful Skrill. They needed to put the four-winged dragon down, whatever that ended up meaning in the moment.

They intercepted the four-winged dragon just as he reached the edge of a stable iceberg too far to the right of the King's direct line to the nest to be bothered with. He dropped the Skrill over the iceberg and flared his larger pair of wings up, slowing drastically, and Von overshot her intended interception by a winglength at most. The Skrill blasted an anemic bolt of lightning up at them as he fell but Von was already gone, and she returned with a small bolt of fire that sent him spiraling down on his injured wing, snarling all the way as the tear undoubtedly widened.

They were close to the ice now, close enough that Von had to pull up lest she crash into the unforgiving white surface. The four-winged dragon tried to snap at her tail, but he was still slower than her and she just flicked it out of his reach before twisting up and away. A second quick blast – she wasn't bothering with truly dangerous shots that needed buildup, resorting to small concussive blasts that wouldn't do more than bruise but came out nearly at the speed of thought – sent the four-winged dragon turning to one side to avoid having an eye burnt out of his head, and then she was dropping onto his back, clawing at him and the rider.

He hit the ice with a skidding series of thumps, and Von hopped off, but something dragged at her and she yelped. Maour saw the end of the rider's thankfully blunt staff jab his sister in the neck, perilously close to her pressure point, and realized that either Von had grabbed the rider or the rider had grabbed on to her. He leaned forward and swung his scythe down, jabbing at where the rider had to be with the point, but he didn't hit anything.

Von opted to do the smart thing when stuck with a passenger clinging to a paw, and landed heavily on the ice. The rider scuttled out from under her with a speed on four limbs that didn't seem natural for any human to possess and reared up to jab at Von's neck again.

Maour leaped down and intercepted the blow with his boot, stamping on the staff right at the midpoint. The rider dropped it before the pressure could snap it in half, but he had to step back and abort his followup swing to avoid getting his eye gouged out by a handful of unhealthily long and untrimmed nails.

Von's head slammed into the rider's midsection, sending them flying backward, knocking their head on the ice and skidding a good ten paces.

A brief moment of stillness came and went. The rider was sprawled out on the ground, motionless, the four-winged dragon was still trying to climb to his paws after his much more brutal crash landing, and the Skrill was behind them.

The Skrill was behind them.

But no lightning had come to strike them down.

Maour spun around, ready to do something to block the lethal strike inevitably coming for them. To throw his scythe, yell a warning to Von, or dodge out of the way as necessary.

There was no lightning coming for them. The Skrill lay in a crumpled heap at the end of a short furrow in the snow. His body was still and lacked even the smallest flicker of lightning.

Maour didn't believe it for a moment. "Skrill playing dead behind us," he whispered to Von.

'Four-wings is going to flame us the moment I make a move toward his rider,' she replied. 'I would just blast the rider, but I only have one good shot left.'

One enemy still capable of fighting for sure, and two that might be playing dead. Yeah, he wouldn't want her to use her last shot making sure the least dangerous of the three was dead either.

'We surrender.' The four-winged dragon's voice was low and he growled even as he capitulated. 'Do not strike her and I will not fight you.'

'Give me reason to be merciful,' Von snarled. 'You don't get to try your best to kill us and then expect to be spared the moment the tides turn.'

'Our fates rest in the talons of those other than us,' was the four-winged dragon's cryptic reply. 'Kill mine and I will not rest until I have killed yours, and that means you will not have time to flee before the battle of alphas is decided, one way or another. Fly away now and I will be stuck here to protect my human, not fighting or delaying you.'

'Hold out your wing,' she retorted. 'You cannot follow me if I slice it with a claw, but it will heal.' Such a cut as what she was describing would do what Maour had done to the Skrill if any weight was put on it, rapidly expanding and ruining the membrane of the wing. Maour was impressed with how quickly Von had come up with that solution; it was elegantly simple.

'I will do it myself,' the four-winged dragon responded. He then presumably began the process of somehow reaching his own wings with a claw, but Maour didn't turn to watch or even distract himself by checking Von's view of the scene. If the Skrill so much as twitched he would notice. So far the Skrill had laid deathly still, but that could still be a trick…

A trick that was rapidly outliving its usefulness as the Skrill's ally grunted in pain behind Maour. 'It is done,' the four-winged dragon announced. 'You bested us. Only because my alpha would not allow all of the Skrill to hunt you down immediately… but that does not change your victory over us here. Hope for your sake that your leader can do the same.'

'He's doing pretty well so far,' Von said defensively. 'Look, he's made it to your precious nest.'

Maour had his back to that, too, but the constant crashing of tusk on ice had stopped sometime during the last frantic clash above the iceberg, and not resumed.

A triumphant, challenging roar split the air. Maour turned just in time to see the King climbing up onto the small spit of land around the outside of the nest's icy walls. He reared up, tusks pointed to the skies as the leading ships in the armada made landfall. Then he dropped to all fours and swung his tusks into the side of the mountain, smashing a sizable hole in it.

Maour knew what throwing down the gauntlet looked like when he saw it, giant dragon or not. He also knew what worrying amounts of structural damage looked like, and the hole the King had put in the nest was a sizable one crumbling larger and larger by the moment.

"We're out of time, let's go," he snapped, vaulting onto Von's back. She took to the air without a moment's hesitation. They were both thinking the same thing.

Toothless was probably in there. He was definitely in the nest somewhere, grounded and vulnerable. And the three enemies most likely to follow and harass them while they searched for him were grounded, probably concussed, and…

The Skrill was still crumpled up in his impact site, unmoving.

"We should go back and make sure he's dead," he suggested.

'So he can leap up at the last moment and get in a close-range clawing? No thank you.' Von shuddered. 'He's not worth the risk or the last of my fire since you grounded him. Toothless needs us.'

"Good point." Even if the Skrill lived, they had much bigger problems still flying around. Alive or not he was at the bottom of the list when it came to threats now.

O-O-O

Author's Note:  If anyone wants musical accompaniment for this chapter, I would suggest  'The Last Agni Kai'.  Those who know the context that particular track was originally meant for can probably guess as to why, besides it sounding great. It's a bit  placid  when compared to the insanely loud, chaotic setting this chapter takes place in, so maybe add a crazy drum solo layered on top for 'authentic' musical accompaniment.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

Grey was shrieking.

Toothless could hear her even over the high-pitched ringing in his ears. He could hear cracking in the distance, and a faint roar, but her irregular shrieks rolled right over those lesser noises and jabbed metaphorical shards of ice into his head, one of the few places that didn't already have real shards of ice jabbed between scales.

Something had exploded nearby, exploded so hugely that the entire mountain was still shaking. Their painstakingly melted tunnel was still mostly intact for the moment, but horrible cracks jutted out through the ground and the largest ones had exploded into the tunnel, shooting shards of ice everywhere as some unfathomable pressure below found the path of least resistance.

He was slumped against the side of the tunnel, his stomach and chest bleeding shallowly. Little nicks akin to jabs from fledgling claws or particularly stubborn branches littered his underside, nothing to worry about in the long run.

He had scales, though. Hard surfaces to deflect and blunt the vast majority of the sharp shards that had exploded up from the floor. Grey did not.

Worse, he couldn't see her. He could see a short section of the tunnel, and Star sprawled out on her stomach right over one of the smaller cracks that had opened up, but Grey was gone. She had been between him and Star, and where she had been walking now hosted one of the largest gaps in the ice, a jagged line that stretched through the tunnel at an angle and was slowly climbing up through walls with spidery, jerking motions, wide enough to climb into at its widest.

The initial explosion, or impact, or whatever it had been was over, but the ice wasn't done shifting. Weights had moved, supports were gone, all of the sorts of things he had been taught to avoid while helping expand the cave system back home. And this wasn't rock, it was ice. Ice that melted without a King to reinforce it, and would thus be melting even now.

They were stuck in a shifting mound of broken and slowly melting ice, something massive or massively explosive had just taken an issue with said ice's continued existence as a coherent whole, and he couldn't see Grey, but he could hear that she was in agony somewhere close. One of those things was more immediately important than the others.

He clawed his way over to the largest crack – the ice shook beneath him, and something crashed in the distance – and leaned out to look into it.

Grey's wide, terrified purple eyes stared up at him from what had to be at least ten wingspans straight down. The narrow crack widened to a chasm below, and he could see Grey clinging with a death grip to a jagged spike of ice that protruded from the wall, blood slowly coloring the ice pressed up against her and immediately below her. If she slipped, she would fall a long, long way to the ice far below.

If she fell, if her wings weren't good enough to slow her fall, she would die. He had leaped off of smaller cliffs to free-fall back when he'd had two tailfins to rely on, and those had terminated in the ocean, not the bottom of a jagged hole smashed in ice.

'My head hurts enough without your squalling!' Star barked shakily from her place further up their melted tunnel.

'Help, shut up, or leave,' Toothless snarled. He was done with Star's stupid need to be rude and difficult. The situation had just become immediately life-threatening, and with it any semblance of an excuse for her behavior had disappeared.

'Do you think you can climb back up?' he called down to Grey. It wasn't far, but the crack was inclined inward, so she would be relying on her claws holding her entire body to the ice, and she was in no way a fit or active dragon.

'No!' she wailed.

'Can you glide!' he roared over the cacophony of cracking and crashing ice all around, tentatively clawing at the edge of the crack – ravine, now, and slowly growing wider with every passing moment. Something behind him crashed down. He suspected that the way back to where Hefnd and Einn were was no longer passable, though he'd not bothered to take the time to check.

'I can't fly!' she yelped.

'I said glide!' he clarified. 'Hold your wings out, just slow yourself down when–'

The wall Grey was clinging to cracked with a quick set of overlapping snapping sounds, and the crack ran straight through where her claws were gripping. She yelped, tried to detach one paw to get a new, less precarious grip, and then in a quick, helpless movement lost her grip entirely.

Toothless leaned forward and pushed off without thinking about it, leaping headfirst into the widening gap despite knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do to help her. She was flailing wildly at the air as she fell, her bent wings beating with absolutely no coordination, shrieking all the way. He was diving, then he was clear of the gap and out into the massive hole in the ice nest's wall, spreading his wings and immediately feeling the lack of balance stemming from his tail.

Gliding was not flying; flying involved gaining altitude, picking which direction to go, and having complete control over where one was going and how one got there. Toothless stuck his wings out as far as they would go, leaned into the wind, and did absolutely none of those things, folding his other tailfin in and letting the air take him where it would, so long as it kept him from hitting the ice too hard. He caught a glimpse of Grey doing something similar before she was out of view.

His heart thundered wildly in his chest and his entire underside stung as the chill air whipped across it. He was facing outward, looking out through the oblong hole gouged in the ice wall, out toward the ocean, the ice field, the shore.

All of which were dominated on the left by two massive dragons, one white and the other grey, facing off. On the right, dark ships pulled up, disgorging soldiers and traps and armored dragons.

He didn't notice he was getting close to the ground until a sudden gust of wind almost drove him right into it face-first. He fumbled his wings to try and counter it, splayed out his good tailfin on instinct alone, and accidentally ruined his momentarily peaceful glide by pulling to one side and smacking into the ground.

He lay sprawled out on the ice for a few heartbeats, stunned. He'd had harder crash-landings, most involving testing something new with Maour, but not many. Hitting anything at speed hurt, even when nothing ended up being broken. He'd be a bruised, hobbling wreck in a few days.

Grey limped across his field of vision. Her tail was dragging limply behind her, and she was heavily favoring her back right paw, avoiding putting any weight on it. Blood dripped sporadically from her belly and chest. Her back was to him, but the red splotches on the ice after she passed over it were telling. Not that she seemed to notice.

He didn't need to check her vision to know what so thoroughly had her attention. The vast expanse of open air in front of them, the ships, the hundreds of humans and dragons, the two massive Kings facing off… It had distracted him, and he was a worldly dragon compared to her. He had seen wars or at least battles; the clouds were a distant memory for her, let alone everything else.

'You stink at landing.'

He wondered if Grey had ever seen a mouthy, arrogant idiot get her tail stuffed so far down her throat she could lick her subfins. He wondered if she would like to see such a thing here and now. If Star said one more word about their frantic descent he would find out.

He groaned loudly and stood, shaking off the aching pain with some difficulty. There was a limit to how much of a beating he could take and keep going, and it was fast approaching. Especially in the cold; it already sapped his energy just to be walking and touching and crouching against freezing ice all the time. 'I'm sure your descent was flawless,' he snarled.

'Better than yours,' Star snapped.

'Why did you bother?' he asked, turning enough to confirm with his own eyes that yes, Star was on the ice behind him and no, she didn't look any worse for the jump and glide she had to have done right after him to get down here.

She glanced up, and he followed her gaze. The top of the hole in the ice wasn't that far away, it had looked like more of a drop from above.

Something shifted and an entire block of ice dropped from the ceiling, falling to smash against the bottom of the hole a ways behind them. There was a giant pile of stone rubble where the interior ledges of the ice nest had been, and beyond that presumably more ice and wreckage, all crumbling and falling further as the moments passed.

'That's why,' Star said succinctly.

They couldn't stay here, not when a chunk of ice could break loose at any time and crush them into a fine paste. The entire section where their optimistic tunnel to escape had been might fall on them at any moment; the crack was still growing.

The alternative to being squashed wasn't exactly welcoming, though. He walked up beside Grey – the smell of her blood made his nose itch – and looked out at the growing battle for a moment, just to get a sense of what they were about to walk into.

The two Kings were still facing off, waving their tusks menacingly at each other. He'd seen enough pride-fueled brawls between larger dragons in his time under the Queen that he knew the opening moves of a soon-to-be grudge match. Anyone stupid enough to walk or fly into that area would get crushed, likely without either King ever noticing them.

Off to the side of the battling titans, the ice nest's dragons swarmed over the ships. Armored dragons and their riders fought back, soldiers on the ships and shore set up fortifications on the ground, and it was all turning into a bloody mess on the shoreline. A few of the smaller beached ships were on fire, but more ships were grouped up behind them jockeying for a place to land. Traps were being set up behind the front lines, cages were being dragged away, and while the humans weren't all fighting with the same strategy in mind – some of the ones trapping dragons were getting in the way of the ones killing everything they could get their hands on, and slowing what would have been an even faster and more violent advance – they were effective enough that he didn't doubt they'd come out the victors, given time.

Given time, and assuming nothing changed about the grinding, bloody battle sprawling out across the rapidly reddening shoreline.

Grey whimpered quietly, and Toothless realized that he really didn't think she had any business watching a violent massacre, let alone being on the edge of one herself. A stretch of crumbled, mostly impassible ice boulders and a stretch of currently open shore was all that separated her from the violence, and while she was on the humans' side of things, they didn't know that.

'Yeah, come on, let's go,' he said quickly, stepping forward and sticking a wing out in front of her to block her view. 'Ceiling's crumbling and–' Lightning flashed, and he saw two Skrill flying about above the ships. 'And we don't want to be seen,' he belatedly concluded. If the Skrill noticed their prisoners escaping…

Well, they'd probably do nothing, because they were hoping the open battle would do what they weren't allowed to and finish a Fury or two off. Though nothing would stop them from inflicting a collection of serious but nonfatal wounds and leaving to hope for the best. Best to just pretend the Skrill were still capable of being homicidal and act accordingly.

Something crashed behind them, audible over the dull roar of battle, and Grey flinched. She hunched in on herself, her ears drooping. 'It's too much…' she whined.

'Yes, it is,' he hastily agreed, feeling the pressure of them needing to move before something fell on them. 'We're going away from all that.' He let his tail brush against her side as he turned and took a few prompting steps toward the far edge of the hole. Thankfully he felt her brushing against his tail as he walked, following close behind him. Star too was silent, a minor miracle in the making. He wasn't even sure why she was still tagging along with them.

Perhaps because he was the only one with any sort of plan for getting away from the ice nest. They couldn't fly and only he knew anything about humans, the only other way away from the ice field.

It was too bad, he reflected, looking down at the steep slopes and jumbled mess of ice boulders that separated them from the ground, that he hadn't yet seen any signs of the only humans he actually knew.

O-O-O

'It's a mess!' Von whined as they descended. She had to fly in careful, tight circles to stay under the small opening at the top of the ice mountain, but it was well worth the effort to do so; chunks of ice bigger than her were falling from the edges, the mountain slowly crumbling in on itself after one massive blow too damaging for it to handle. One strike had set off the destruction of the nest, and the King hadn't even been trying to do such a thing.

The ice nest might have once been impressive; she saw signs of sea stacks that could have been connected, and there was dirt and greenery strewn across some parts of the wreckage. The pool of seawater in the middle might have been a nice gathering place for dragons to fish, before it was crowded with fallen ice and stone. There could have been caves melted into the inside of the hollow mountain for the dragons who could be comfortable sleeping in such cold conditions, but only a third of the mountain's sloped walls still held any semblance of ordered structure, and she saw no caves there.

"They have to be in here somewhere," Maour muttered. "You look, I'll watch our backs." The ice nest was empty at the moment, devoid of any signs of life whatsoever, but anyone could fly in from above, or, if they were daring enough, through the steadily-crumbling gorge created by the first tusks slammed through the ice from outside.

Von swooped lower, riding the quickly shifting air currents with absent-minded ease. She scoured the many cracks and crevices in the intact walls with a thoroughness carried by a burning need to find something, flying as close as she dared to check every likely cave, and flying wide of the crumbling sections of wall.

"Boulder!" Maour yelled, and she dove back into the center of the nest, under the cloudy sky and nothing else. A few tense moments later, a massive chunk of ice fell through where she had been flying.

"Saw that one before it broke away, but most of them aren't so obvious," Maour warned. "Be ready to do that again." It was taken for granted that they would keep looking, despite the danger. This was what they were here for, there was nowhere else Toothless could be…

A dark, worrying idea formed in Von's mind, spurred on by a challenging roar from one of the Kings outside, partially visible through the growing gaps in the ice as they knocked their tusks together. 'Unless he is being forced to fight,' she guessed. They knew nothing of what had happened to Toothless once he was taken here; maybe the Skrill were abducting Night Furies to form an unwilling strike force for their master. Grounded for even more control over them, treated badly and made to fight in defense of the one who was enslaving them…

"That…" Maour trailed off. Outside, dragons fought and died, killing humans and each other with equal ferocity. The Kings roared, and the ice cracked and shattered, and underneath it all a low, desperate roar echoed, nearly drowned out.

It was a familiar roar, bearing the same grating undertones that graced her own voice when she raised it loud enough, the peculiar tone and pitch unique to her kind. Von doubled back on herself in a swift, fluid motion, ears up as she strained to hear the roar. It repeated, even more desperate, and she saw a flash of black down in the rubble of ice and stone at the bottom of the nest. She dove.

He was wedged between two jagged chunks of ice, his tail up as he dug at the crevice, his back to her. Two tailfins waved distractedly at her as the unknown male – not Toothless, no matter how much she wished otherwise – roared again, blasting his frustration at the ice under him.

He wasn't Toothless, and he wasn't Einn either, but he was still a Night Fury and still in some sort of distress. Von landed on the flatter of the two ice chunks and barked to get his attention. 'What kind of help do you need?' she asked when his roar cut off.

He backed out of the crevice and whirled on them, his teeth bared in a dangerous snarl blunted by just how scrawny the rest of him was. 'He's trapped down there! I know it!'

"Who?" Maour demanded.

The orange-eyed Fury glanced at Maour, looked Von in the eye, then jerked his head up to stare at Maour again as what he had seen the first time made its way through his panic-addled mind. 'What… Kappi!'

"He's down there?" Maour asked.

'Yes,' the orange-eyed Fury confirmed. 'Help me dig!'

That was enough of an explanation to get Von into the crevice right beside the nameless male. Maour dismounted right before she dove bodily into it like she had seen the male doing, and presumably continued to keep watch over her defenseless backside. She envied him his composure; she had to stop herself from building up a big blast of fire and hurling it in the general direction of the ice between her and her brother. The only thing that was likely to accomplish was flinging her bodily out of the crevice with a burned face, but it was still tempting.

'Down this way,' the male corrected when she started flaming directly ahead of herself, pawing at her face and directing her closer to his front paws. 'He was over here when it hit, we were both in a pocket of air at the bottom, but a chunk of stone cut us off and I had to dig my way out.'

Von grunted in acknowledgement and continued to steadily melt at the ice. She could see now that the ice was darker below her than below the male, which indicated that she was above the rock and he was off to the side, and all the water she was melting had to be draining somewhere, since it wasn't puddling in the hole. The frigid chill of ice against her stomach and back only spurred her on, giving her a vivid glimpse of the demise that awaited her brother if she didn't get to him fast enough.

Her fire was running low when something gave underneath the male. He fell with a yelp and Von choked back the rest of her fire, shimmying to the side to look into the hole that had developed.

She saw the orange-eyed male, sprawled across a still bulk of black littered with scars. Scars… and two prominently displayed tailfins splayed bonelessly against the rock behind him.

'Come on, wake up, if I survived that disaster you should have too,' the younger male muttered, kicking at the dragon who Von suspected was Einn, the mute older male who had started this whole debacle.

Von craned her neck to get a good look at the rest of the air pocket, panic growing in her chest once again. There were no other Furies splayed out in the small open space, though half of a Monstrous Nightmare was jutting out from under the ice. She tried not to think about what the top half probably looked like… Or what might have happened to Toothless. But she didn't see him anywhere.

Einn groaned feebly, and the younger male let out a low cry of relief that he for some reason immediately stifled. Von dropped down into the hole and took that as her cue to redirect the male's attention to more immediately important matters. 'Tell me which direction to start flaming for Kappi!' she snapped.

The younger male crouched defensively. 'I don't have a clue,' he huffed. 'He and the others were flaming a tunnel… Either they were crushed or they made it out first.'

'You said he was down here,' Von objected.

'I lied,' the male barked. 'Got you to help, didn't it?'

Several different responses came to mind, all crowding each other out and rendering Von speechless. She settled for an extremely frustrated snarl that made him flinch, then turned to leap up into the crevice and away from the maddeningly callous dragon she couldn't quite find it within herself to hate.

She could, on the other paw, gripe incessantly as she squeezed herself upward through the narrow crevice. 'Rude, stupid, idiotic jerk with no concern for the feelings of others,' she muttered as she hauled herself up onto solid ice next to Maour.

"I heard," Maour said in a low voice. "At least now we found somebody. And we know Toothless was in the wall when the King working with Drago smashed it…"

Von didn't know what she would do if it turned out their own ally had killed Toothless in a freak coincidence. To have come so far, tried so hard, only to have made no difference or even doomed her brother by interfering…

'We should check outside the ice nest, if he made it out of the wall he would need to climb down,' she said quietly.

Maour reclaimed his spot in the saddle and they were off. She struggled to find the same urgency as she had felt before encountering the orange-eyed male; what before had been a rush of urgency was now a flood of dread. Toothless was either dead or out of the nest, and she didn't want to know which it was, not when not knowing meant he might still be alive. It was stupid and they did still need to find him, but her unreasonable dread persisted.

She went up and out the top of the nest, as there were no stable paths out through the walls, slowly crumbling as they were. Up there, high above the bulk of the battle, she could see the carnage being wrought below. The Kings were battling in earnest now, swinging their ponderous tusks back and forth and grappling chest to chest in a brutal struggle on a scale larger than anything she had ever witnessed. Every deflected blow shook the ground, and whenever one of them took a step back the rocky rubble beneath them was like sand to their weight.

Behind the defending King, the white one they had come to fight, the exterior of the ice nest was in shambles. The fighting along the shoreline had moved all the way up to the foot of the ice mountain, and there were dragons flaming and grappling all over the crumbling ice. Some soldiers were setting up small net-throwing devices with their backs to various chunks of ice, forcing dragons to come at them from the front, but most of the fighting in that area was happening in the air, because the ground was just too complicated and unstable to fight on paw.

The Skrill were nowhere to be seen; they weren't blasting the invading King with lightning anymore, but she didn't know what they had decided to do instead. Hopefully they had burned through their stored-up lightning and were stuck fighting like everyone else.

A massive flash of lightning down among the ice boulders killed that hope almost immediately.

O-O-O

Toothless picked his way under an oblong piece of ice with as much care as he could muster. It had tumbled down to land at an angle propped up against a boulder, leaving a Night-Fury-sized gap that could be crawled under, so long as one wasn't worried about upsetting the balance of the ice above one's head and being instantly crushed.

But that ever-present worry had long since dulled for him; this was the third precarious ice placement he had walked under since starting the trek down to the shore proper, and he had lost count of the ways they could die if something went wrong. They weren't being actively attacked, and that was the best he could hope for.

Grey and Star were still behind him; he was beginning to feel the strain of being the one relied upon to make all the decisions, but he couldn't fault them for trusting him given the situation. Grey had been imprisoned long enough that she had no experience with anything outside the ice nest, and Star… Maybe she had decided that he was her best chance of escaping for good and was just acting accordingly. She wasn't wrong.

The ice ceiling above was low enough that he had to squirm under it near the far edge, scraping his back with its cold, jagged surface. Beyond the low edge was open air for all of half a winglength, another less passable mound of smaller ice fragments blocking the way forward. He could easily climb over it, but that would make him visible from above, and there were enemy dragons in the air. To the left, there was a sheer wall of ice. To the right, a narrow vertical crevice that might be a dead end.

He was bruised and tired and mentally exhausted from the constant danger without any good physical solution, but he was still the most fit of their trio to make decisions like this one, so it was up to him. Which choice would get them safely closer to the shore, where the ships of dubious allegiance were beached?

They would have to go over the pile of smaller fragments, he decided. He could get a good look at how far they had gone, and how the battle had progressed while they slunk along, out of sight.

'Keep low, watch the sky, be ready to fire if someone comes down to attack,' he warned both females. They had both exhausted their fire flaming the tunnel, but by now they should have recovered a shot or two.

He crept up the unstable slope of the mound of ice. The individual pieces were all slick and wet from slowly melting, and he wondered what was different about this ice that it shattered so thoroughly while the massive pieces all around it had survived the fall intact. Whatever the cause, it was an annoying deviation in the terrain that offered a tolerably difficult ascent instead of a sheer climb.

He reached the top of the mound and found that even at its highest point he couldn't see over the boulders around it. Thankfully, there was a clear space down on the other side, so he didn't need to see over to see the battle. They were already at the edge of it.

A dozen heavily-armored humans were holed up in the passage ahead, three wielding rectangular shields and blocking the path, their backs to him. A solitary Monstrous Nightmare was on the other side of the shield wall, spewing heavy liquid flames all over it. He could have gone over the shields, they weren't any taller than the humans, but the nine behind the shields were all brandishing long spears, pointing them right at where his head would have to be to spew flames over the shields.

The shieldbearers were slowly backing up the passage, unable to push forward against the pressure and heat. The spearmen couldn't get past the shields. Something was going to have to give.

Toothless considered intervening on the behalf of the humans; they were nominally on the same side, after all, and maybe a good first impression would lead into them helping him get the females and himself clear of it all. But the more realistic outcome of such intervention would be taking a spear to the gut as the humans all turned on him. The middle of a battle against dragons was a bad time to introduce himself.

He hesitated, waiting to see what would happen.

Someone else did not.

Lightning flashed, sudden and bright. A second, larger figure came in behind the Monstrous Nightmare. 'I got this, big boy,' Condescending purred. A second flash of pure energy blasted the shields away, and she lunged forward. The soldiers didn't stand a chance, caught so off-guard.

Toothless backed down, out of sight. He backed right into Star, who huffed quietly. 'We're going a different way, silently,' he hissed. If he had his fire, if he didn't have two noncombatants to protect… Getting into a fight with Condescending was a bad idea, but he was itching to hurt the Skrill nonetheless. Best to avoid her notice and the temptation to do something about it altogether.

'Okay,' Star said, a little too loudly for comfort. Grey glared at her.

Toothless, for his part, unsheathed his teeth and crouched. He knew his luck well enough to know what was about to happen next.

'What's that I hear?' Condescending crested the top of the ice pile, her talons sinking deep into the loose detritus. Little sparks were flickering sporadically around her jaws, but otherwise she was curiously devoid of lightning. 'You should be safely trapped,' she hummed menacingly at them. 'Can't risk you getting killed out here…' There was a dangerous, frustrated undertone to her words. 'That won't do at all.'

'We-' Grey began, her voice trembling.

Something large and black dropped onto Condescending's back, driving her into the ice pile. Teeth savaged the back of her neck and a purple blade stained black with dried blood bit into her side, jabbing deep. Lightning exploded outward, but it was weak and practically harmless in comparison to every demonstration of power Toothless had ever seen from a Skrill.

Condescending threw her attacker – attackers, for they had separated to better strike at her– off with a desperate roll, pitifully small flashes of lightning sparking off her body in every direction. Von made to leap right back on, and Maour swung his scythe, but Condescending leaped up to dig her talons into one of the taller ice boulders surrounding the pile and pulled herself out of easy eviscerating range.

Two bolts of blue fire hit her back, and she tumbled out of sight. Toothless saw Grey readying another shot, while Star shook her head angrily, presumably out once again. But when Condescending didn't immediately return, his eyes were drawn to their saviours.

To Von, as she leaped up to follow Condescending. Only to the top of the ice; whatever she saw there had her turning her back on where the Skrill had last been, dropping back down to the ice pile.

To Maour, who spun his scythe in a short, hurried movement to lock the blades in, then dropped it on the ground.

They were here. It was not wishful thinking, or hope, or hallucinations brought on by despair. They were here, he was here… They had found him.

Toothless closed the distance between himself and them as fast as his aching body would allow. Von met him halfway and they slammed into each other, chest to chest. She let out a relieved whine so shrill and vehement that it made his head spin, and he licked a wet patch of blood – not hers – off the back of her neck, all while whining back.

But she was only half of the siblings he had so missed and worried about. He heard and saw Maour coming up beside them and chose that moment to pull back from her embrace, twist around, and gently shove Maour to the ground. A fierce licking followed, which his brother did absolutely nothing to resist, instead grabbing his ears and pulling his head close.

"Hey," Maour said, his physical voice muffled by the oblong head resting his chest and face, but still unmistakably cracking with emotion. "Found you."

There was a weight behind those three simple words, one that spoke more than any amount of elaboration could have, at least to Toothless. Of the months they'd spent apart, the months his siblings had spent searching for him, probably unsure whether he was even still alive, only to finally find him here, in the midst of so much death and destruction. They found him, even though they had to chase his captors across frigid seas and find allies to fight right into the heart of their territory.

Von barked a near-hysterical laugh right in Toothless' ear. 'Finally,' she added. 'You are not dead!'

'Not dead, not badly hurt, and very glad you're here,' Toothless replied. Even with everything that was going on, with all the remaining danger and uncertainty…

One thing was right in the world. One big, important thing. The rest could get in line and wait until he was done savoring the feeling.

Well… Most of it could wait. Somebody was missing. 'Where's Ruffnut?'

O-O-O

Ruffnut was no expert in inter-dragon conflict – except when it came to Night Furies, and even then naysayers liked to claim otherwise – but she was pretty sure she knew what she was seeing in the distance.

"I'm telling you, one of them is female and they're going to get it on soon," she asserted to the nearest available set of ears. This happened to be the sailor currently trying to readjust their sail to tack them to the side, around the fat metal end of the ship directly in front of them.

"We can hope," the belabored sailor grunted. "Better than 'em turnin' on us and freezing the fleet before we can get clear."

"We're trying to get around, not clear," Ruffnut corrected him.

"No, we're turning around," Eret called out from behind her. "We've got a full hold, and glory is a poor substitute for pay. Nothing more that half a dozen able-bodied trappers can contribute to this mess. We're leaving."

"No, no, that's stupid," Ruffnut huffed, crossing her arms. "Drago's orders, remember? Fill the cages, then get down to the shore and pitch in." He'd said nothing of the sort – that would require talking to her, which he had at no point done – but Eret didn't know that, and what he didn't know wouldn't confuse him.

The ship was tacking to the side; Ruffnut could literally see her plans turning around and sailing away. They were pointed at the side of the channel through the ice, now, right at…

"Would you look at that," she said loudly, a big smile fighting its way onto her face despite her best efforts. "How much was the bounty for the rider and their four-winged dragon?"

Up on top of one of the icebergs the big dragon had shoved to the side, a familiarly tawny and broad dragon was limping along, a limp, human arm dangling from his back. He had made the tactical error of walking too close to the edge of a low-sitting iceberg, and thus being within eyeshot of any intrepid sailor looking to make a quick but hefty profit. And really, walking? He had wings to spare!

"A lot," Eret announced. "Set course for the iceberg in front of it! If we can scale that cliff, we can get in front of it! If it's walking then it can't fly, and if it can't fly it's easy pickings."

"That's more like it," Ruffnut whispered as the remaining crewmembers sprang into greed-fueled action. They weren't all that far from the iceberg, and the intermittent roars from the big dragons smacking it out on the shore made it hard to hear their ship coming… She didn't expect them to actually corner the four-winged dragon, but it was something to tempt them away from leaving the scene of the battle before she could get some stowaways on board.

They quietly broke away from the body of the armada and sailed off perpendicular to the other ships, towards the edge of the channel. The four-winged dragon plodded along, unaware of their intentions. The other enemy dragons gave their little ship no trouble at all; the real fight was going on at the shoreline and on the beach, not in the back of the reinforcements. The dragons were all going for the easy targets in the bloody melee.

In what felt like no time at all, Eret's crew was digging anchor picks into the side of an iceberg twice as high as their mast, and Ruffnut was handed a pair of picks for herself. Nobody questioned her right to go up with the rest of the crew; nobody was stupid enough to deny her, and they were short-handed besides.

She still didn't think it would work, even as she hauled herself up onto the iceberg's mostly flat top, but she had to admit that their barebones plan had gone flawlessly so far. She, Eret, and three less interesting trappers were now directly between the presumably grounded dragon and the ice nest. No reinforcements, nowhere to run on the flat plane of the iceberg, and he was burdened with…

With a not-so-unconscious dragon rider. Ruffnut gripped her ice pick in one hand and pat the alcoholic dragon-blaster secured in a pouch at her side with the other. One for the human, one for the dragon.

The dragon saw them, of course. He stopped his plodding trek a good several hundred paces from them, out of reliable arrow range. His rider was standing up on his back – Ruffnut envied the rider their sheer stubbornness, to want to stand when sitting would work just as well – and he was turning around.

"Who feels like running for the prize?" Eret asked the group. "It can't be very fast on the ground with those big wings."

"We're gonna get roasted," one of the trappers complained. Ruffnut noticed that he wasn't turning back, though. The lure of copious amounts of gold truly did embolden even the most cowardly.

All was not well with the distant duo, either. The rider had gotten off the four-winged dragon and was prodding at his wings. Then they were pointing their staff at Ruffnut and the dragon trappers – no, actually it looked like the staff was pointed at the big dragon brawl going on at the ice nest. Close enough.

All the while, Ruffnut and the others were steadily closing in… She would feel immensely cheated if they managed this brag-worthy feat because their prey was too distracted to put up a fight. And she wasn't even invested in being a dragon trapper; helping out was just her cover to commandeer their ship later!

"Don't throw the net until I say so," Eret warned.

Ruffnut glanced back long enough to confirm that yes, one of the lackeys was lugging a net with him. And here she had assumed they would be taking down the four-winged dragon with wits and normal weaponry. Now she definitely felt cheated.

She and the trappers continued to stalk toward the arguing dragon and rider. They were definitely arguing; those increasingly frustrated gestures with the staff did not speak of somebody calmly conversing. The rider kept pointing at the nest, and the four-winged dragon angrily flung a wing in their face. The rider examined the wing for a moment, then pushed the wing back into line with the other one on that side and made an exaggerated flapping motion.

Ruffnut was unimpressed by their mediocre charade skills. Their lack of situational awareness was even worse. She and the trappers were closing in, spreading out as they approached to come from different angles.

The four-winged dragon let out a short roar of frustration, turned, and tried to grab the rider with his teeth. The rider dodged, smacked his head with the staff, then jabbed it at him in a far less friendly fashion. He backed off, glaring at the rider and then turned to give Ruffnut and the trappers an evil eye, too.

"Which one's worth more, the rider or the dragon?" one of the lackeys called out to Eret.

"Definitely the rider, but the dragon can fly away and the rider can't," Eret responded. Ruffnut doubted that the dragon could fly – he had to have some reasons for not postponing his disagreement with his rider long enough to take them somewhere safer – but she didn't disagree with his reasoning.

The rider turned and finally seemed to realize that they were an imminent threat. That ugly staff was pointed right at Eret, and the four-winged dragon moved to stand beside the rider, their quarrel momentarily forgotten.

Ruffnut hoisted her weapon. She could take out the alcohol and smash it on the ground right now, and completely disable the dragon, but that was far too simple a use for such a hard-won prize. They'd be doing this the old-fashioned way.

The lackey with the net charged first, holding it ready to throw as he closed the distance. Eret and the others followed suit, brandishing short swords, an ax, and what looked like throwing knives. Ruffnut ran in behind them, looking for an appropriate opening.

Eret met the rider sword for staff and immediately took a jab to the gut. The four-winged dragon opened his mouth to flame them all, was distracted by the partially-tangled net that smacked into his head, and then Ruffnut was upon him. She tried to punch him in his fat throat as he reared back to shake the net off, but the slick coating of snow under her boots gave way at the worst possible moment and she skidded right into him, her fist and arm crumpling against his big chest.

He tried to drop and crush her, so she slid to the side, grabbed a convenient bit of dragon-whisker and then horn, and hauled herself onto his neck.

He was not a Night Fury, but he was a dragon. A fist and knee to the soft spot behind his jaw drew out a pained grunt. A big wing tried to scrape her off, and she slid down his face to avoid it. She dropped her knife in her scramble to stay away from his maw and inadvertently kneed his eye.

Something big swooped overhead, and she heard Eret cursing up a storm, but she was too busy not being squashed or barbecued to care about anything beyond the disoriented dragon leaning down to paw at her. She kneed his other eye – intentionally, this time – and then pushed herself right off his head, landing on her back on the ice in front of him.

He was squinting out of both eyes, raising a paw to squash her head far more slowly than he probably would have liked…

She fumbled at the pouch on her hip, pulling it off her belt by mistake, popped the loosened cork, and stuck her fingers in. The potent alcohol tingled on her skin – one more reason to hope she had enough to try once this was all over – and the four-winged dragon came down. She rolled to the side, leaving the pouch where it was, and the head-crushing paw crushed nothing more than a bit of snow.

Before he could try again, she rolled forward and sprang up, smacking his face with an open-handed slap.

With her alcohol-wetted fingers right across his nostrils.

His eyes rolled back as he swayed once, twice, then unceremoniously fell to his side, eyelids fluttering closed.

Ruffnut stood, dusted the snow off her backside, and mentally counted her bruises. She stopped after the tenth one, bending over to pick up her now sodden pouch. Half the alcohol had spilled out, but there was enough left in the bottle that she went to the effort of recorking it.

Then she remembered that Eret and the others had gone into the fight with her and thought to look around.

Eret and his three lackeys were all staring slack-jawed at her.

"So…" She made a show of looking around again. "Where's the rider."

"You should be dead ten times over," the trapper who had messed up the net throw said gormlessly.

"You should have better aim," she shot back. "I practically had to do it all myself!"

"You're insane," the disgruntled trapper shot back.

"Wrestle one dragon and you've wrestled them all," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. This four-winged dragon and Boom weren't all that different; he was just bigger and had more wings. And talons on the ends of his paws instead of nimble claws. And tornado flame-breath instead of projectiles… Totally the same. "Seriously, where's the rider?"

"Got picked up by a Snafflefang," Eret remarked. "Left the four-wing behind."

"Wow, cowards everywhere today," Ruffnut remarked. The net-throwing trapper reddened and opened his mouth. "Lucky for you I feel like sharing my catch," she continued. He paused and then deliberately closed his mouth again.

"Planning on dragging your catch back to the ship by yourself?" Eret asked.

"Nah, you guys need to feel like you contributed," she dismissed. "I'm… going for a walk." She'd have an amble around while she waited. She recalled a third dragon involved in the crash that had stranded the four-winged dragon here…

The Skrill had probably flown away, but she might as well check. The four-winged dragon had left a trail of limping prints in the snow, so she knew where to look.

O-O-O

"Ruffnut?" It took Maour a moment to think about anything other than the overwhelming relief of knowing Toothless was safe and sound, right there in front of him. And crushing him to the ground with his heavy head, but that was less important. "She's out on the ships somewhere, I think."

'You've got a plan?' Toothless asked. He lifted his head and backed up from both Maour and Von, giving them space and a good look at him for the first time since their hurried arrival. He didn't look so good, all in all, though infinitely better than Maour had feared. A few new scars, bruises, and a general sense of frailness could be overlooked, simply by remembering that he wasn't dead and his wings weren't broken.

The two Furies behind him, though...

They were a study in opposites, in some ways; one was pure black with only a handful of scars and green eyes, whereas the other was a sickly grey in color, completely scaleless, and staring at the ground with vibrant purple eyes. But both were painfully emaciated, and both sported wings with visibly crooked crimps in the middle. Neither looked at all healthy, and he wanted to throw them both at Eldurhjarta and a pile of fish, in that order.

'Is your human trying to look like one of us, or does it just admire our scales to the point of obsession?' the female with a normal coloration asked snidely.

"More the former than the latter, but I'm not denying I like the look," Maour answered as he stood and retrieved his scythe. Both females jolted at his unexpected mental voice, and the grey one anxiously checked over both shoulders before seeming to believe who was speaking.

'This is Maour, and he is going to get you off this island, so keep a civil tongue in your head,' Toothless growled.

'What am I, the brainless muscle carrying him around?' Von snorted. 'I'll be helping too. I'm Svarturvon, not so pleased to meet you, ugly cousin.' The green-eyed female bristled.

'No relation,' Toothless corrected. 'The green eyes are a coincidence.'

'Oh, good,' Von huffed. 'And you?' she nodded toward the grey-skinned Fury. If she was even a Fury at all… Maour had never seen a Night Fury without their midnight black skin and scales. He would have to ask… Later, when they weren't on the edge of a warzone. Quite a lot had to wait until they were truly safe.

'Grey,' the female offered timidly. 'Nice to meet… both of you?'

"And you," Maour replied. "But we should save our proper introductions for when we're well clear of this mess. Ruffnut has been doing something with a smaller ship and its crew, so I think we can count on her to get you two off the island if we can find her and get you there." He pulled the saddlebag off of Von's saddle.

"Just us?" Star huffed.

'Just you,' Toothless confirmed, spinning around to present his tail to Maour. 'Which kind?' he asked, peering back.

"Manual, I didn't want to mess with the fancy new stuff in an unfamiliar forge, let alone in an unknown, probably dangerous situation." Toothless' tail was no worse for his ordeal, so fitting the actual tailfin to the bare edge was the work of a moment, an easy habit to fall back on. Strap the bare edge to the tail, spread the false fin, check the length of the pins…

'What can you tell us about the Skrill and this place?' Von asked. 'What do you think we're going to need to know?'

'Five Skrill,' Toothless reported as Maour worked. 'All incapable of killing Night Furies so long as their King's orders constrain them. Vicious, capable of injuring and torturing, but no killing. Not sure how that applies to enemies instead of prisoners, though, so maybe assume they can kill just to be safe.'

"Four Skrill, we left one dead on an iceberg," Maour corrected. "The one who came back from the last raid injured?"

'You killed Sadistic?' the green-eyed female demanded, sounding curiously offended.

'If you could fly I'd offer to show you his body, but you'll have to take our word for it,' Von replied.

'Good,' Grey barked. Maour looked up just in time to see her cringing at her own loudness, then continuing at a lower volume. 'He was the worst of them.'

'That leaves four,' Toothless continued. Maour worked his way up his brother's side, laying out the minimalistic riding harness he would need to stay on his brother's back. It was no saddle, sporting no cushioning or any features at all, but it held up the foot pedal and would secure him to Toothless' back through a simple leather double-loop around his shoulders, and that was enough. 'They're not using as much lightning as I would expect, and you drove Condescending off… But it's weird that she retreated at all.'

'They've been wasting their lightning on the King, they probably don't have much left,' Von offered. 'There are clouds above, but it's not a thunderstorm.'

"So they're conserving it," Maour guessed. He vaulted up onto Toothless' back and slid his foot into the pedal. Toothless flicked his tail out straight and Maour ran the false fin through its full range of motion, twice to be sure. "Saving it for the shots that count, or to get out of sticky situations."

'Try not to give them worthwhile targets,' Von advised. 'We can sneak around the bulk of the fighting… probably. Or we could just hide you two here until the fight is over.'

'That assumes our side wins,' Toothless huffed. 'I'm not so sure I want to rely on that.'

Maour flicked the false tailfin out. "Let's go see how the fight is going. Von, stay and protect them?"

'You got it.' He could feel her presence at the back of his mind still. For now, it might be better to leave their link as it was. He had just gotten his brother back; now was not the time to lose track of his sister.

Toothless took off, and long-ingrained muscle memory had Maour effortlessly adjusting his side of the tail to complement his brother's every move. After so long working together, he didn't need an inside view of Toothless' muscles to know exactly how things should work and what was going to happen next.

The human and normal dragon front of the battle continued much as it had before, albeit with a lessening of numbers on both sides. The humans had seized control of most of the beach and a long stretch of shoreline, forcing the dragons out and making the ground hazardous to approach. There were markedly fewer armored dragons flying about, but Maour could see quite a few on the ground, lending their fire and mostly fireproof exteriors to countering the braver enemy dragons who managed to land.

The Kings, meanwhile, were going at it full force. At the moment, both were backing up, mutually deciding to make some space so their tusks could be used to full effect. The invading King stood with his back paws – if such massive things could truly be called paws – in the water, his tusks angled slightly up to point at the defending King's chest.

Both let out bone-rattling roars and stabbed forward with their tusks. They clashed, deflecting each other off to the side, then backed up. Again, the short, violent jabbing motion, their legs dug in for any purchase they could find in the terrain, knocking together so hard the ground shook.

Twice more they clashed and mutually deflected each other. Twice more the ground shook and the air vibrated. Then, on the fifth pass, the deadlock ended.

The invading King, discernable from the other by his darker scales and slightly smaller size, jabbed forward with a twist of his head.

The defending King did something very similar at the same time, also angling himself differently to avoid being so easily deflected.

If one or the other had made such a move, it would have drawn blood, a shallow or perhaps serious wound inflicted before deflection.

But they both did it, in opposite directions. Spears of ivory shot forward, passing right by each other and piercing unfathomably durable hide on both sides, stabbing straight into the bulk of both Kings in a mutually harmful embrace.

Maour's breath caught in his throat. Toothless fell into a stunned glide. Most of the battle paused, if only for a heartbeat.

The older, larger King had two tusks jabbed into his chest, deep and right of center, one just below his stout neck. The younger, invading King, having stood slightly lower, was not so lucky. One tusk went to the intersection of neck and chest. The other jabbed right into his face, the tusk scraping against bone and scale and deflecting to the path of least resistance. Right through the left eye.

A cry of despair rose among the armored dragons as the invading King sagged limply, pulling the older forward and down with his ponderous weight.

The older King pulled his tusks back, hauling himself off the tusks of his fallen enemy. The horrible, gaping holes left in his chest started expelling waterfalls of blood when the tusks left them, and a horrible realization came upon Maour, and doubtless upon the majority of those on the battlefield.

The older King let out one long, rattling roar of victory, and then a wet cough. The blood pouring from his chest didn't abate in the slightest.

Then he fell, his body falling deceptively slowly against the ruined ice nest as he staggered to the side. He slumped there, pushing inward the last bits of standing wall on that side of the ice nest. His blood pumped feverishly out of his body in steady spurts.

Toothless was descending, making for their sister and the two females he had brought out of the ice nest, but it was too late. The entire battlefield knew when the other King died. The now free dragons still living shrieked loud enough to shake the sky.

Author's Note : No backlog plus an extra-long and important chapter plus lots of real-life time sinks (Hello, 14+ hour school/senior project days, how are you this time of year? Especially annoying? You don't say.) equals a delayed chapter. That said, it's Thanksgiving week here in the USA, so I've got a whole week off. Guess what my no. 1 priority is during that week? Finishing the last three (or four, but that's a thing best discussed later) chapters of this story, of course! Hopefully that news makes up for the two-day delay on this chapter.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

A horrid, outraged shriek split the air upon the defending King's last breath shuddering to an end, and what came next was not an end to the battle. Not even close. The fighting continued, unabated or perhaps even invigorated by the King's demise. Some dragons fled on either side, and some even switched sides, but the battle largely continued as before, if not more viciously.

Under other circumstances, the deaths of both Kings would have ended any war waged by their thralls. Dragons forced to fight would fight no longer, with no reason to continue killing each other. The dragons made to fight Berk had stopped with the death of their controlling Queen, dispersing to live their lives as they saw fit. Maour had seen it happen, and he understood the cause. Without a driving force, a reason, there was no fighting to be had.

But that outcome depended on the dragons who had been controlled having no other reasons to fight. Here, the attackers had come to destroy the enemy King, and that was it. They had won. The defenders, though… Their home had been destroyed. Their kin slain, in some cases by former friends or estranged family. It was personal for many, and their own personal enemies were still there to be fought.

Worst of all, the four most dangerous dragons on the battlefield had just lost all reason to ignore the presence of Night Furies. They would not be leaving the battle, far from it. They would be out for the blood they could finally freely shed .

Toothless dove like his life depended on it, back down to where Von and the two rescued females were hiding. Maour pulled the tailfin in and held on tight, feeling the mounting urgency. At least one Skrill knew where they all were, and while that one had fled for whatever reason, they could come back or spread the word.

Toothless had started his dive the moment he saw the defending King's wounds, but he still wasn't fast enough. Lightning flashed below them, a large, blindingly bright figure leaping into the narrow space between ice boulders to flood the entire area with lethal energy. Von and the others weren't directly in the Skrill's line of fire – Maour didn't see them, they had moved from the pile of smaller rubble – but the insanely large flood of lightning branched out through the crevices and jolted through ice, spreading like a plague.

Landing on the Skrill while they exploded with power wasn't an option, so Toothless did the next best thing and slammed down onto the ice lip of the canyon the Skrill stood in, shattering the lip of the ice and sending pieces tumbling down on the Skrill in his stead. The lightning sputtered to a stop, and then one final bolt flashed up in front of Maour, narrowly missing Toothless' head.

Further blasts of lightning failed to follow. The Skrill – not the one from before, smaller and with a more wild assortment of spines – shrieked at them and tensed, but nothing came of it. Not even a spark.

Any sane Skrill would have balked, then. Out of lightning, facing a Night Fury and possibly several more… The one from earlier had fled.

This one did not.

Toothless had to hop to the side to keep his skull in one piece, a heavy wing-arm jabbing up at his neck as the Skrill leaped up. He bit into the Skrill's wing as the limb came close, teeth digging through the wing membrane. Maour whipped his scythe around to jab at the leading edge. The point stuck in the wing, and then both he and Toothless were yanked forward and down, the Skrill pulling them into the narrow canyon.

If the Skrill were still capable of expelling lightning from anywhere on his body, the fight would have ended then and there. But he was not, and Maour took full advantage, throwing caution to the wind as he disconnected from the makeshift saddle and pulled his scythe free. He was off of Toothless and onto the Skrill's back as soon as the dragons hit the ground. Toothless scrabbled around to pull himself under the Skrill, using his flat body to his advantage, while Maour swung his scythe like a pickaxe, stabbing the point in between rugged scales.

Attacked from above and below, the Skrill thrashed like mad, screeching his agony and mindless rage into their ears. Toothless was momentarily slowed by the painfully disorienting noises, but Maour bore the auditory attack and kept digging. Two more swings broke a single scale loose, and a third sank the point of his scythe into raw flesh down to where the curved blade capped the wooden shaft.

That seemed to make up the Skrill's mind as to which of them was the greater threat. Maour went from driving his blade home to clinging on for life in a heartbeat as the Skrill slammed himself down, then awkwardly rolled to the side, driving his back against the icy surface of one of the two walls of the small canyon. The other end of Maour's scythe drove into the ice, then was ripped free of the Skrill in an ugly spray of blood and uprooted flesh. Maour was crushed for a moment, a dragon's bulk pinning him to the wall, a blade cutting through his armor right around his midsection, the air brutally smashed from his lungs–

It ended with another ear-splitting shriek and the Skrill shuddering violently. The entire dark grey and purple scaled body began thrashing wildly. Maour dropped down to the ground in the corner between gravel, ice, and scale, landing on his hands and knees.

The flailing subsided, and Maour hurriedly crawled out from under the Skrill. Toothless was there, his entire head bloody, and there was a matching hole in the Skrill's stomach, one Maour tried not to look too closely at.

The incensed cries of Skrill, several of them, rose above the hubbub of the not-so-distant battle beyond the ice boulders. Much closer, a Night Fury let out a muted battle cry and charged around the corner, while another peeked over from the top of one of the icebergs, fire illuminating her open mouth.

Both stuttered to a stop when they saw the obviously dead Skrill. 'Good, he's dead,' Von snarled, while Grey hurriedly maneuvered herself down to ground level, hopping over and sliding down with her claws digging into the ice. Star cautiously followed behind Grey, her gaze snapping to the Skrill for a moment, then turning to Maour and Toothless.

Maour shook his scythe, ridding it of a few small chunks of flesh and most of the fresh blood. He pulled at the newly gashed armor panel over his side, testing its strength. It didn't give, but he suspected it would if another dragon pulled, stabbed, or otherwise tested it.

'Skrill are loose, at least three of them,' Toothless hurriedly recounted. 'That wasn't Condescending we just killed, and Angry had to find out where we were from someone, to get here so fast. They know where we are. We need to move.'

There was no argument, not even from the green-eyed female Maour still didn't know the name of. Maour remounted, Von took up a place behind the two flightless females, and everyone made for the open shore. It was the only place they could go, dangerous though it might be. If the Skrill knew to check the ice boulders then they couldn't hide anywhere in there, and the only way off the island required that they connect with a ship of some sort. Further, though the grounded females probably didn't know it yet, the beached ships were being mostly ignored by the enemy dragons, and the ones stuck behind the beached front were entirely out of the fight. Safety, in friendly territory.

They just had to get there. Through the open, behind the human line of offense, and then back to the ships. One quick, dangerous run through a fight where at least three of the combatants would be looking for them.

"Would it be better to go out and hunt down the other three Skrill?" Maour asked. Once they were dead the grounded Night Furies could safely hide and wait for the fight to finish. Two on three – or three on three, if they left the grounded females without a flight-capable guard, and if he counted himself – wasn't great odds, but they would probably end up fighting anyway. At least going hunting was taking the initiative.

'I don't think it matters,' Toothless huffed as they passed between two final boulders and then out into the open. 'They're hunting us already.'

O-O-O

Grey ran along behind Star, out into the cold and wind and terror. The noises clawed at her ears, horrible sounds of rage and agony and gut-wrenching fear all at once. What had been an unnerving background sound was now assaulting her, blasting and shrieking and screaming right in front of her, around her, over her, everywhere!

She whimpered and hopped off a disgusting mass of something warm and squishy, then again as she landed on a sharp thing with her back paw, but she couldn't stand taking her eyes off the lethal mayhem going on everywhere but the ground under her paws.

Dragons clawed at dragons in the air, on the ground, everywhere. Humans stabbed and trapped and slashed and pounded at dragons in every direction, forming a very rudimentary line and attacking any unarmored dragon that approached the line, or any of their smaller pockets of defense. Cages littered the ground closest to the massive grey and brown structures lined up on the shore, many full and defended by humans from unarmored dragons. Some armored dragons carried humans, and one of the unarmored dragons was carrying a familiar human, even though the one doing the carrying wasn't the big four-winged one that always had that human–

'Keep moving!' the nice female who had flown in to save them barked urgently. Grey realized she had stopped running and tried to make her paws resume the blistering pace set by Kappi and followed by Star, who were getting ahead of them in the madness. The fighting was spread out over a large area so they weren't exactly having to dodge between claw strikes or blasts of fire yet, but there was violence everywhere and anyone could decide to strike at her as she passed them, she had to be close to Kappi. Fear made her run faster despite her aching and still sluggishly bleeding underside.

"Dragon rider up there!" Maour yelled, his voice reaching her despite the noise of the battle. An armored dragon landed right in front of Toothless and forced him to veer around, firing back up at something Grey didn't see. She passed within pawing distance of the dragon's sharp, armored tail.

'Guess that four-wing wasn't grounded after all!' the female behind Grey barked back.

A cloud of ominous green gas jetted out from between the clenched jaws of a Zippleback fighting three bulky humans. One of the humans caught it in the face and coughed, falling off and leaving the other two to struggle to make up the difference, but Toothless veered toward them long enough to make the Zippleback flinch back and give them the upper paw once more.

'Don't see the four-wing, just the rider!' Toothless retorted. Grey passed the Zippleback right as one of the humans knocked its heads together while roaring at the top of his relatively puny lungs.

Grey had no idea what they were talking about, but it didn't matter anyway. Not when she had just spotted a telltale flash of lightning behind the human line. Far behind, centered around one of the cage stacks, complete with a Skrill there in person, lashing out with wings and talons at the guards.

She couldn't watch the attack, not while keeping herself up and running – Toothless led them right over a pile of bodies, dragon and human, and she had to go around because she didn't think she could jump it like he did – but she saw the occasional flash of action. The Skrill throwing a human off their tail. The Skrill dragging one cage out of the group. A Monstrous Nightmare climbing out of the cage.

She saw the two of them flying off together, their tails to the island and by extension the entire battle.

Then she saw red and black and grey, and her paws left the ground as an explosion blasted her to the side. Her eyes reflexively closed just as she plowed into the rocky ground, her right side scraping and catching everywhere as she rolled over onto her back. She choked out a pained half-bark, the agony coursing through her fresh and unavoidable.

'Now you all die!' a dragon shrieked, his voice high and completely uncontrolled. Another blast shook the ground by Grey, spurring her to move despite the pain. Her muscles quivered and every touch of air on new wounds stung, but she forced her eyes open and forced herself up, shaking like an old invalid.

She didn't want to die here. Not in the middle of all this new terror and hope. If she was meant to die on this island, it would have happened years ago, back in the water that Sadistic used to take her scales.

The Skrill – Cold, she knew his voice – was snapping wildly at Kappi and his human rider, towering over them and driving his teeth through the air where limbs or heads had been a heartbeat prior. Von was rolling across the uneven ground with a second Skrill, right into a group of humans with long sticks topped with sharp stone. Star was watching, like Grey. Watching and doing nothing to help.

The humans all jabbed their sticks at Tolerable as he snarled and finally managed to throw Von off of himself, quickly redirecting his attention. Cold managed to draw blood in his frenzied strikes, dragging a gouge down Toothless' side. Grey moved, unable to fire even once but equally unwilling to be a helpless bystander.

'Hey, Cold!' she barked. She could serve as a distraction.

Cold didn't even look up, he was so busy pressing his advantage. There was an angled stick and claw sticking out of his back, out of reach of Kappi's human, and Kappi himself just didn't have the physical reach to strike back while Cold was using his wing arms so recklessly, continually backing away and dodging each individual strike.

Grey wasn't fast, or strong, or durable, or anything a Night Fury was supposed to be. Not even stealthy. But she didn't need to be any of those things to run up behind Cold, leap, and grab onto the dangling stick with her jaws just short of the sharp part capping the other end.

She wasn't strong, and she wasn't large, but bones and skin and the bare minimum needed to survive still weighed something and her grip on the wood held, though she had kept her teeth sheathed to avoid biting right through it, so her gums were taking all of the strain.

Cold was not prepared for a dragon-sized weight to suddenly yank a lightly embedded point down and to the side. Grey wasn't prepared for it either, and when her back paws touched the ground she let go.

Cold twisted to the right, his angry snarl cut off with an awkward shriek, and fell right on top of Grey. She kicked at his bulk, terrified that he would shock her to death at any moment, and squirmed out from under him–

Where she was immediately met with a stabbing pain in her tail and a spray of liquid across her back. She instinctively jerked her tail forward and around, which sent a bolt of acute agony up her spine from the very tip of her tail.

Behind her, Cold had a back talon stuck in the beach where her tail had been. Her tail sported a rip down the right fin, from right near the middle all the way out to the far end, dividing her poor tailfin into two limply hanging halves.

Cold also had a raging Night Fury clamped down on his neck, so aside from the pain she didn't feel so bad about that outcome. She was already grounded.

Kappi braced himself against Cold's chest, then ripped his head free of Cold's neck by force, taking a large portion of said neck with him as he leaped off and twisted to land on all four paws. His back was empty, Grey noticed.

Cold stopped dead mid-flail, a sharp motion of his head splattering blood across the ground in front of him. His eyes dulled, and Grey resisted the urge to look away. Instead, she curled her tail around and gingerly licked at the tear. Maybe not the smartest thing to do in the middle of a chaotic battle, but–

'Lick your wounds later,' Kappi said sternly, rushing past her as his human jumped right back onto him. 'Once you're behind the human line, at the very least!'

Grey flinched at his stern tone, even as she gave up attending to her tail. He was almost never cross with her… She didn't like it. Even if he definitely had a point. Turning around to watch him go, she saw that potentially lethal danger had been much closer than she assumed.

Tolerable had thrown Von off, crashed through the attacking humans, and snapped most of their stabbing things and most of their bodies, and was now disemboweling an armored Gronckle who had flown in to help. Two more unarmored dragons had come down to defend him in turn, and humans had congregated to throw their false claws into the mix, along with big things that spread and tangled wings, and smaller thrown claws that took an unlucky Nadder's eye. Any one of those things could have missed the larger fight and hit her from behind.

She had used up all of her courage and pain tolerance attacking Cold, and didn't think she could contribute anything to the larger-scale fight happening around Tolerable and Von. She limped away from the fight, making her way to a pile of empty cages – she knew what a cage was, Kappi had explained in detail – and hid behind it, only peeking out far enough to see the fight and keep track of the others.

Tolerable was much more dangerous than Cold. Grey had believed this for years, based solely on their attitudes, but she had never seen either of them fighting. Now Cold was dead and Tolerable was holding his own, without lightning, against two mildly injured Night Furies and a collection of humans, while others from the ice nest fended off the armored dragons working with the humans.

Von struck, Kappi struck, but Tolerable turned both tooth-filled lunges aside with deft deflections of his wings. The humans put their smaller, faster flying claws through his wings as he did so, but he ignored the new injuries without letting out so much as a pained grunt. Star, on the outskirts of the battle, looking in, fired a quick shot into the ground in front of him, spraying debris in his face, but he closed his eyes just in time to avoid being blinded for more than a moment. Kappi tried to take advantage of even that momentary lapse, but Tolerable was already backing away.

He backed right into another group of humans with even longer sharp sticks. They jabbed him from behind. He lashed out with his tail, knocking two over, but the others spread out and avoided the unaimed lashes. Von dragged her claws down his wing arm while he was distracted, drawing so much blood Grey could see it from her hiding place, and Kappi followed up with a whip-like tail lash right at the midsection wing when he faltered, striking it so hard that it snapped.

Tolerable fell to the side, and lightning lit up his body, but it was a short-lived burst that the humans ducked away from and the dragons weathered. The armored dragons in the air above him were the worst affected, the closest dropping out of the sky and the rest quickly flying away from him, but it made little difference. There were too many humans and too many armored dragons. Many of the unarmored dragons Grey could see were flying away from the fighting now, giving up as the battle turned further and further in favor of the humans.

Those who remained might have been trying to rally around Tolerable, the last truly fearsome dragon on their side, but it was doomed from the start. His last emergency blast of lightning exhausted, Tolerable fought like a mad-dragon backed into a corner. A corner made of long, unfeeling sharp things and tangling vines and lethal teeth and claws seeking any vulnerability, along with a single human unafraid of getting close and jabbing with his own sharp stick… He fought silently, eerily so, but that did not make his situation any better. It just gave him an air of violent resignation. He was not angry, he was not raging, he was just doing his best to kill everyone around him and finding that his best wasn't good enough.

Grey did not feel sorry for him. Not even as he finally made a mistake and lost his other wing to it. He might have been the least terrible of her captors, but he was also the last of them, save for Condescending, who had fled with the Monstrous Nightmare she went to the trouble to rescue.

With Tolerable dead, the battlefield was cleared of Skrill. Grey breathed a heavy sigh of relief when Von dealt out the killing blow.

The humans all piled on, presumably to make sure in their own violent way, and the armored dragons continued to harry the unarmored dragons in the sky above. Kappi and the others pulled away from the continuing battle, ducking behind human fortifications and back into the stretch of shoreline that had been conquered and was too dangerous to the defenders to strike at.

Grey stepped out of hiding and quickly rejoined them, holding her tail gingerly up as she walked to avoid dragging her dangling pieces of tailfin on the ground.

"That needs to be sewn back together right now," Kappi's human announced as she tried to unobtrusively walk beside Kappi. She didn't know what he meant, or who he was talking to–

'The tail?' Kappi asked. 'I didn't think it was–'

"You might not mind a rider, but the sooner I do it the more likely she won't need one when all is said and done," Maour interrupted. "Seriously, I've got a needle and thread tucked away in the interior of Von's saddle, let's stop here. I'm not sure which ship we should approach yet anyway."

O-O-O

Toothless kept a wary eye on the battle while Maour painstakingly sewed Grey's tailfin back together. He hoped she would be okay… Or at least no more crippled than she had been at the start of this exhausting day. She had so many minor injuries, cuts and bruises mostly, all over her body. Some of them only looked worse than they really were because of her lack of scales, but others were worse than they would have been on a scaled dragon, and she was flagging badly.

He had some gashes and a whole collection of bruises to tend to later, and suspected that at least one of the bones in his right front paw was broken, but he could keep going. Von was even less injured, sporting no major wounds and few minor ones. Star had kept out of the battle aside from contributing her slowly returning fire whenever she could. Maour was fine, though his armor would need repairs. It was really only Grey who looked like a walking corpse, as morbid as that comparison was.

He was impressed by her resilience and pain tolerance, but she had limits and she must have already far surpassed them. The moment Maour was done with the most necessary treatments, they needed to go find Ruffnut, find a ship, and get moving. He wanted to see Grey sleeping in a warm nest of soft things to recover, not laying around on the cold ground like she was now.

'You're growling like you always do when you want to knock someone out and force them to sleep for their own good,' Von grumbled, turning to glare at him. 'It better not be me, I am not in the mood to be patronized.'

'You're in better shape than I am, and since when do I growl so specifically you can assign a motivation to it?' he asked, mildly offended. He wasn't that predictable. 'I'm worried for Grey, she lost a lot of blood and she was in bad shape to start with.'

He expected Star to chime in about Grey, but the emaciated female to his left kept her mouth shut. Maybe seeing him kill multiple Skrill had forced her to reassess whether she really wanted him angry at her.

'Agreed, she needs to be waited on paw and tail for the foreseeable future,' Von rumbled. 'But… Oh, you must be kidding.'

'What?' He tried to figure out what she was looking at, but there was a lot going on in the direction she was looking. Most of the dragon-on-dragon fighting had ended, but there were roving groups of dragons moving too quickly for the armored dragons to follow, striking at any vulnerable-looking humans. The humans were all still pushing forward, unwilling or unable to hunker down and let the dragons turn the attack into a minor siege. There weren't many unarmored dragons left in the air, but the environment was still inherently hostile to the humans. To stop might be to die right on the brink of victory.

All of which Toothless understood, and he didn't think Von was referring to the battle as a whole. Four of the five Skrill were down and he had no idea where Condescending had gotten to. He only saw a lot of humans fighting fire-breathing dragons, and up on a lone boulder–

'Who is that?' he barked. The dragon rider, mask and staff and all, was up there, fighting a big man with a dark cloak, a hooked staff of his own, and tangled black hair.

'Drago himself,' Von explained. 'The one in charge of all this. Didn't think he would fight, though, he's old for a human.'

Toothless didn't think the supposedly old human was doing too badly; he was swinging his bullhook in wide arcs, taking up the majority of the space atop the rock and forcing the rider to duck and dodge perilously close to the edge. Any short, quick blows the rider got in against his cloaked bulk simply bounced off, especially when they struck his cloaked arm. He probably had a shield in there, though why he would keep it covered and limit its movement…

"What's going on? Do we need to move now?" Maour asked. Toothless could hear Grey's pained, muffled yelps in the background as he worked.

'Drago is facing the dragon rider and looks like he's winning,' Von reported.

"You did probably break a few of their ribs with that last headbutt," Maour remarked. "They have to be feeling that."

'Who do we want to win this?' Star asked, sidling up on Toothless' other side. 'I always hated that human, so I want it to lose.'

Toothless wasn't sure he had an opinion either way. He would probably like it best if they just kept fighting until he and everyone he cared about was long gone. That rider had fought Maour and Von in the past, while Drago had a big force of humans and a lot of captured dragons. Neither would necessarily come after him or the Furies next, but either could and he was tired.

Drago continued to hem the rider in on all sides with his considerable size advantage. He took several staff blows to the head, only one warded off by his own polearm, but he had control of the boulder's oblong top and he knew it. It was only a matter of time–

The rider misplaced a foot, slipped, and fell back to the ground. Drago took two steps forward and jumped off the rock himself, feet first. He landed on the rider's legs with all of his considerable weight.

Toothless imagined he could hear the sharp crack from where he stood; it had to have been loud. Drago stumbled a bit, but compared to completely crippling his enemy, that was nothing. He planted his bullhook blade-first in the ground by the rider's head and reached down.

Toothless felt Grey looking through his eyes to watch. "What is…" Grey trailed off.

Drago held the dragon rider by the collar of their odd tunic. Their staff lay discarded on the ground, and then when they tried to scratch at his face he shook them like a cat with a mouse until they stopped, completely unaffected by the bloody scratches inflicted on his face.

Toothless could see Drago's expression; the way he was standing, the dragon rider's back was toward them, and off to the side a pair of steely grey eyes and hooked nose could be seen.

The mask slipped off, falling to the ground. Shaken loose by the fight, or by his rough handling afterward. The rider had short brown hair.

Drago stared at the rider. They stared back, or perhaps their eyes were closed. All Toothless could see was the warlord's face, not what looked back at him.

Said face was curious, in the reserved way most Vikings tended to be. At least at first. But as the tense seconds passed, his face twisted into a scowl.

Drago threw the rider to the ground, seized his bullhook – kicking the rider's hand as it reached for the discarded staff – and jabbed his weapon down. Right into the rider's back.

O-O-O

Thus ended the last true resistance to Drago's assault, and with it Maour's hopes for a continued positive alliance with the man. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about Drago executing his human opposition when he could have spared them or at least captured them…

Maour didn't know if he would be treated the same way now that he and Von had outlived their usefulness, but he did know that he didn't want to find out. "Okay, I think that's as clear a sign as we're going to get that we shouldn't stick around," he said to his brother.

'Ruffnut?' Toothless asked.

"She should have a ship… somewhere." He had yet to see any sign of her or the dinky trapper ship she had wormed her way into having authority over. They weren't among the first line of ships to beach themselves in the assault, which made sense. She would have to take hers around, to an unoccupied section of shoreline. "Von, can you go look for her? We're going to go wait somewhere a ship can get to." It would be so much easier to get away if all of the Furies could fly, but that wasn't the case.

'On it,' Von barked. She took to the sky, leaving two grounded Night Furies and one Night Fury who needed Maour to fly. He was pretty sure he had heard a logic puzzle that started like this once… Thankfully there was no river to cross here. Just a stretch of mostly empty beach.

'Let's get out of here while our friends are still our friends,' Grey said weakly. Her entire body shuddered every so often, and she was swaying from side to side, not dramatically but enough that Maour had noticed it. She was going to crash soon, either metaphorically or literally if they didn't reach safety in time.

'Walk like you aren't worried we are going to be ambushed and slaughtered,' Star hissed as they started off toward an empty section of shore, their backs to Drago and his final victory. 'Don't look weak!'

'You chose a terrible time to start trying to be helpful,' Toothless grumbled as he leaned over to let Maour on. Maour thought it was fairly good advice, all things considered. Maybe not feasible when at least one member of their group was so obviously weak and vulnerable, but still. Either his brother was holding a grudge – unlikely, but possible if it was over something serious – or there was some hidden barb to her words that Maour didn't have the context needed to understand.

'I want out the way you're going,' Star huffed. 'It would be a brutal flight away from here even if I could make it, which I cannot.'

'Remember that,' Toothless shot back. 'Because if you come with us you had better be on your best behavior.'

They reached the tideline, turning to walk parallel to the line of beached ships. There were more cages and other miscellaneous supplies in their path now, some already being loaded back onto the ships and others being set out despite the battle drawing to a close. The fight was over, but Drago's fleet wouldn't be able to leave immediately. Many of the ships had run aground at considerable speed, incapable of slowing lest they start a chain reaction of wrecks throughout the entire fleet. They would not be easy to fix.

Toothless chanced a furtive look over his shoulder, and Maour felt the subsequent growl. 'He's coming this way, and a dozen armored dragons are shadowing him from the air. Everyone walk faster, but don't run!'

'Maour, I can't find Ruffnut's ship,' Von reported. 'The only one doing something different from the rest of the fleet is out loading up more cages from where we took down Sadistic, that wouldn't be her.'

"Definitely not." Ruffnut wouldn't have led her crew off on a wild dragon hunt, and even if she did she wouldn't have let them capture more dragons along the way. "Look through the middle of the fleet, at all the ships that are stuck with nowhere to sail." If Ruffnut was trapped there, a new plan would be needed. They would have to find somewhere to lay low for a while.

He would have happily jumped on that tentative secondary plan right now, if they weren't being actively followed. Grey limped out past the last ship, clearing the occupied section of shoreline, and the rest of the group was right behind her, but Drago was still behind them. They could keep retreating down the shore until it terminated in a massive ice slide from the ruined nest, but that wouldn't keep Drago at bay for long.

Drago hadn't gathered any soldiers to him; Maour looked back to confirm that for himself. The dragons following him were doing so at a remove, likely ready to intervene should he order it or obviously need aid, but otherwise unobtrusive.

The attacking King was dead, both Kings were dead, so such behavior had to come from genuine loyalty or maybe a sense of obligation. Not something Maour was confident he could talk his way out of, should the need arise. But Drago… He could maybe talk Drago out of whatever he intended.

"Okay, we need to hold here," he said to the others. "There's nowhere else to go. Let's see what he wants."

'What could he possibly want with the only dragons on the battlefield who aren't directly loyal to him, caged, or dead?' Star muttered. 'If he had an alpha I would never let him get close to me.'

'He doesn't have one now, and not all of his dragons stayed,' Toothless observed. 'I can see some flying over the ice mountain, but not many are still right here on the battlefield. He can't be feeling too certain of their allegiance now?' It was a question, but not one Maour knew the answer to.

Drago slowed as he approached, walking deliberately. He waved off a few approaching soldiers who made to intercept him. His eyes were fixed on Maour, or perhaps on the Night Furies around him.

"Dragon rider," Drago called out as he walked.

'Maour, I still can't find her,' Von reported at nearly the same time.

"Look harder, we might come running across the fleet soon, at least figure out where in the fleet she isn't," Maour muttered. "Be safe, but hurry."

"The only dragon rider, now," Drago continued, projecting his voice across the empty beach between them. He was still slowly approaching, the dragons above him continued their detached vigil… There was still nowhere to go, save for onto the fleet or out toward a dead end along the shoreline.

"I'd rather not be called that, if it's all the same to you!" Maour yelled, struggling much more than Drago probably was to project his voice across the distance. He noticed several of the dragons waiting on Drago recoiling in shock. One even flew away there and then, and none of the others made any move to stop him.

"Collector of Night Furies, then," Drago thundered. He was using his bullhook like a staff at the moment, but the dark stain on the bladed tip was an unavoidable reminder of what had happened to the last dragon rider to meet him face to face. "What of your brother?"

The brother Maour had said he wanted to find. The one Drago didn't know was a dragon. "I found him," Maour replied.

"You found more than that," Drago said darkly. "I have walked your path. It does not end well."

"Nobody has ever walked my path before me," Maour shot back, crossing his arms. Drago was too close for comfort now, a bare dozen paces away. More worryingly, most of the dragons watching him were closer now, too. They would be the immediate danger, if he commanded them and they obeyed even now.

You up there,' Toothless called out to the ominous flock, 'what are you doing?'

There was no response. They had definitely heard him, but they continued to swarm above Drago without saying anything at all.

'That's not concerning at all,' Toothless grumbled to Maour.

"There is only one end, no matter the exact steps taken to it," Drago growled, unaware of the byplay between the dragons. "But it will be yours. Not mine. Your part in my fleet has concluded. I…" The focus of his sharp grey eyes switched from Maour to something behind him.

Sails creaked behind Maour. The sound of water sloshing against wood had been growing louder, but he hadn't properly noticed with the other things going on. Toothless turned, keeping one eye on Drago.

"Oy!" A familiar figure leaped off a small wooden ship that had pulled up just beyond the sudden dropoff from shallows to deep water, within walking distance of the shore. She splashed down, a bottle of all things clutched in one hand, and swept a hat off her signature hair, the blond 'nubs' falling to either side. "We're kidnapping your Night Furies!"

Grey and Star were already in the water, making a beeline for the only other human they had ever met that they could understand. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

"What is this?" Drago yelled. "You, what are you doing?"

"I think it's either theft, piracy, insubordination, or kidnapping, depending on what happens next!" Ruffnut yelled back. "Somebody catch!" She hiked her arm back and threw the bottle – and it really was just a bottle so far as Maour could tell – up at an angle.

"Go, go, go," Maour urged his brother. He even flicked the tailfin a few times to snap his brother out of whatever dumbfounded trance Ruffnut's sudden appearance had placed him in.

'I am no longer used to Myrkurs,' his brother groaned as he took to the air. He had to immediately duck, the armored dragons were right above them and flying menacingly, right toward the trapper ship Drago was so obviously displeased with–

One caught the bottle as it arced down toward the shore. It shattered all over the unlucky Nadder's talons. Maour twisted in his saddle to watch as Toothless took them to the ship, and as a result had a perfect view of a spray of liquid bursting out along with the broken glass, and the Nadder immediately passing out. All of the dragons behind them swerved, dived, or just plain dropped out of the sky.

Toothless landed on the deck of Ruffnut's ship, startling several sailors and interrupting an incoherent rant from one in particular. Grey and Star awkwardly clawed their way up the side.

The armored dragons doubled back, some abandoning Drago entirely and the rest seemingly dazed, even the ones that had missed the effects of whatever Ruffnut had dropped in their midst.

'There you are!' Maour heard Von bark, and shortly after Ruffnut was unceremoniously dropped on the deck by an irate Night Fury. 'I am linking with you next time we need to rely on you for anything important. That was terrifying!'

The ship was tacking away from the shallows, the sailors following the orders of an increasingly frantic captain who apparently didn't know any more of Ruffnut's plans than Drago had a moment ago, but who was now entirely certain he was about to die at the hands of his own boss. Or so he said loudly and repeatedly every time it looked like Ruffnut might be able to hear him.

It was chaos, but they had made it out. Drago stood on the shore, watching as their ship departed. Armored dragons flew uncertainly overhead, and more could be seen in the distance, above the ruined remains of a mountain of ice. The corpse of the formerly reigning King slumped against the rubble, and that of the would-be King rested in the shallows.

Snow was falling, and the meagre, diffused light coming through the clouds was steadily decreasing. The day of reckoning had come to an end.

Toothless was safe. If nothing else, they had accomplished that.

Author's Note : To answer a question from a guest: Of everything story-length I've written to date, I'm most proud of  Usurpation of the Darkness  and  Taking Up the Mantle . Both were much more technically challenging to write than my usual fare, and both came out quite well. As for my favorite series? That's an easy one. The  IHTR  series wins, hands down. I like the  Living  series, but it's dragged down quite a bit by being the first things I ever really wrote, whereas the  IHTR  series has the benefits of experience going in and a much broader world to work with.

That said, I like everything I've published to some extent. If I didn't, it wouldn't  be  published. My standards for my own work have risen over time, so some of my oldest stuff may now be in desperate need of reworking to bring up to the same level, but there's still an appeal to them as they are.

Chapter Text

O-O-O

"Why did you make me do that?" Eret demanded, prodding Ruffnut in the chest with an accusing finger.

His ship was rapidly putting water between them and the shore, and by extension the bulk of Drago's forces. Their ships were all either unmanned or beached and unmanned, and any effective pursuit would come from the skies if it came at all.

Von had one eye on the air, just in case, but she didn't think it would come to that. Drago's ships might be out of position to give chase, but they were at least reliable. His dragons… That had to be up in the air now, with the King he allied with dead on the beach. If he even intended to send pursuit at all. Ruffnut had pulled them out of the situation before anyone was forced to make decisions they couldn't take back.

Their status as allies of Drago might be in question, but it being in question was better than them being outright declared enemies. Drago probably didn't have the capability to chase them and force the issue right now.

"Because I'm in charge and – hey, you keep that sail down, we're putting distance between us and them or I'm feeding you to the dragon rider!" Ruffnut stomped across the deck, and the sailor who had been subtly pulling the sail up hurriedly let it drop.

Grey was at the front of the ship, leaning against the railing with her eyes on the horizon. Her grey, scaleless skin shuddered and rippled at every little movement of her muscles, and she looked painfully uncomfortable, but not so much as to drive her to seek out warmer confines. Toothless stood with her, a wing out to shelter her from the worst of the wind, his gaze fixed on any sailor who came within ten steps of them. None dared.

Star, by contrast, was up on the ship's cabin, looking back at the shore and the ruined ice nest. The standoffish female had given no explanation for what she was doing; she could be keeping watch for everyone's benefit, or just staring into the middle distance, or sleeping with her eyes open.

Von, having taken up a place next to the cabin, was keeping one eye on the sailors and one on the sky, sprawled out on her side to take weight off her bruised paws. Many little impacts and strains on her limbs added up over the course of one long day. It would have been nice to relax, but she would settle for a watchful repose while Ruffnut got her usurped crew under control.

"You just stole them from under Drago's nose, how can you possibly claim you're working on his orders?" Eret yelled, stalking after Ruffnut. "I'm turning–"

"Nope, not turning around!" Ruffnut spun around and gave Eret a truly sadistic grin. "Forget who I am or what I'm supposed to be doing. You're really going to argue while your ship carries four Night Furies? Think you'd live to regret the decision?"

Eret paled. He glanced at the hatch Maour had disappeared down a few moments ago. "The rider…"

"Personal friend, did I never mention it?" Ruffnut said glibly. "Don't need him to set them on you, anyway. They want off that gods-forsaken island and out of the ice, and you're going to be the nice, likeable, inedible ferryman for them. Do it without whining and I'll do you a huge favor."

"What could possibly be worth defying Drago?" Eret asked tiredly. He kept looking over at his shoulder, back toward the ice nest. "We never even offloaded our latest catch."

"Yeah, here's the favor," Ruffnut said loudly. "Cooperate, and I'll convince these dangerous, bloodthirsty dragons to look past your chosen occupation. I think we could run this ship without you, so don't make us find out."

Eret paled even further, to the point that Von wondered whether he was going to faint. She bared her teeth when he looked her way; she was the only one in a position to look especially menacing at the moment.

"I have injured men below deck and we need supplies," Eret weakly protested.

"All in good time, captain," Ruffnut assured him, patting his shoulder. "For now, just get us out of sight of the angry man and his army."

"You're insane," Eret groused. "Men! We make for open water! Bother a Night Fury and I'll let them have you to appease them!"

"Good choice," Ruffnut said ominously.

O-O-O

Maour picked his way through the chaotic, messy hold. He passed by the small side-chambers that smelled of blood and other, even less appealing human scents. There would be injured sailors… There would be injured soldiers, too. Ruffnut might intend this ship to take them all the way home, but unless she wanted a real mutiny, it was more likely to only take them as far as the first occurrence of human civilization. He was fine with that; what he'd overheard through Von's ears had him confident Ruffnut could hold control at least that long, and then they could bargain their way onto a safer ship for the rest of the trip.

If they needed a ship at all. He didn't know what was up with the two females Toothless had brought along, or Einn and the younger male they'd left in the ice nest. That was a logistical tangle that would need working out soon.

But first he needed to confirm a few things Ruffnut had told him. That there were injured men aboard, for one thing, but also that there were caged dragons… and that the cages were all full.

He stepped into the main cargo hold, avoiding a splinter-lined crater in the wooden floor, and saw the half-dozen cages he'd been told to expect.

The one closest to him was overfull, with a miserable-looking four-winged dragon crammed inside.

'And so the dark human comes to gloat,' the four-winged dragon growled. His head was pressed up against the bars, one baleful eye pointed Maour's way.

"I come to talk, not gloat," Maour retorted, pulling over an empty bucket and flipping it over. It would make a passable stool. "Your alpha is dead."

'I know,' the four-winged dragon said darkly. 'I felt his passing. My human?'

"Also dead, though I would have stopped that if I had been there," Maour admitted. "Did she speak to you? Could she?"

He had multiple reasons to speak to the four-winged dragon, some more pressing than others, but that was the one that was at the front of his mind. He needed to understand. To understand more than Drago did, in the end, when he gutted the rider after a single look.

'Not like you,' the four-winged dragon grumbled angrily. 'She should have stayed. She should have listened. I was content to let our deal ground me to keep her away from the rest of it. She should have been too.'

"Did she care that much about your alpha?" Maour asked.

'More than she cared about staying with me,' the dragon snarled bitterly. Something clanged in the far corner of the cage, and his wings shuffled around a bit. He lifted his head to a slightly more dignified position, revealing a tight metal muzzle. 'Apparently.'

Maour repressed a pang of sympathy, trying not to let it show on his face. "How did she come to be here?"

'How does any human come to be in a nest?' the four-winged dragon shot back. 'She was brought. Our alpha wanted to see if he could control humans…'

"Could he?" Maour leaned forward.

'Not at all,' the dragon answered. 'Speak to, with eye contact and touch and much effort, but no control. But he let her stay when she asked. I was in charge of keeping her alive and out of trouble… We spent years flying together. Is she truly dead?"

"Yes." He would not burden this dragon with the gory details.

'So it ends,' the dragon sighed. 'Two decades of companionship. I am truly alone, now. At least do me the honor of ending it here. You cannot be content to watch our kind suffer, even if you fly with a Usurper.'

"Do you actually know what that title means?" Maour asked.

'No, simply that the Skrill and alpha used it with such disgust. Do you?' That large eye blinked at him.

"I wish I did," he said truthfully. "But if you didn't know… You just sat back and watched what was done to Night Furies in your nest? Never questioning? Never objecting?"

'Why does it matter?' the four-winged dragon asked. 'It happened. It will not happen now, because the ones who did it are dead.'

"It matters," Maour said firmly. "So? What was it to you?"

'Not my place to question,' was the reluctant answer. 'A necessary evil, perhaps, a way to keep the Skrill sane and useful. A punishment to prevent some darker urge on the part of the Night Furies. A way to entertain our alpha. Not my responsibility, not something I care about, whatever I might have said about it in front of others. My life focused on other things, and if my alpha approved, then I needed to accept it. That is all.'

"What a terrible way to live," Maour muttered. "Turning a blind eye because it doesn't affect you."

'And look where it brought my alpha and I,' the four-winged dragon agreed. 'Death and ruin. Or maybe that was inevitable.'

Maour made up his mind. "Not as inevitable as you might think," he said, standing from his makeshift stool. "Promise me you'll leave us in peace, and I'll set you free tonight."

'I am your enemy. You will do no such thing.' The dragon's big eye closed. 'Go away. Let me mourn.'

"Fine." He would ask again later. His decision wouldn't change. Maybe the four-winged dragon wasn't perfect, maybe he wasn't even a good person, but the alternative was too brutal a punishment to subject any but the most vile to. Being sold and bought and killed for parts or kept in a cage for the rest of his life…

Ruffnut might have taken over these particular dragon trappers, Drago might have been a surprisingly good person to sell dragons to so long as they weren't Night Furies, but Maour was under no illusions as to what they did and what it normally meant for the dragons in question. He wasn't going to leave any dragons in their clutches now that they couldn't sell to Drago.

Especially not a dragon who, for whatever reasons, kept the company of a human for so long, so amicably. That was the kind of thing Maour wanted to see more of in the world. If he could tolerate Drago being at large in the world, then he could do the same for this particular dragon.

It wouldn't help him feel any closure on the subject of the mysterious dragon rider… But he didn't necessarily need closure. Some mysteries weren't meant to be solved. He knew enough to know he didn't need to dig any deeper.

He had a living, hopeful, uncomplicated family to get back to, and a brother to hold close for a good long while. They were what mattered.

O-O-O

Grey didn't remember the sea.

She knew of it. Enough to imagine it. Maybe she had seen it as a hatchling or fledgling. Maybe not. Those times were fuzzy in her mind, more so than she thought was normal. Good memories were hard to come by when they all involved so much pain in retrospect.

So, to see it now… She drank in the view, the wind, the sounds of water on ice and other water and wood which she definitely only recognized through second-paw descriptions. It was so much, and she had her back to all of the other new things, the people and places and violence and wondrous sights all mixed up together.

This… The water, the ice, the grey sky… This was tolerable. This was new but not so new it hurt, aside from the stinging the salty air brought to her many cuts. The wing sheltering her from the worst of the wind was new, too, and it did the opposite of hurt.

'Grey,' Kappi – Toothless, she might call him, but "warrior" fit him so much better to her, so she called him that in her mind – said softly. 'You know the difference between ice in the sun and a puddle?'

'No?' she huffed. She had yet to see the sun… Maybe it would happen.

'One doesn't know it's a puddle yet,' he explained.

She thought about it for a while. 'Was that a joke?' she asked.

'An attempt at one,' he said mournfully.

'It…' wasn't funny. Nothing was funny right now. Amazing, unbelievably, numbing and painful and overwhelming… Not funny.

'Not great, I know,' he rumbled.

'I think I'm tired of jokes,' she admitted with a soft whine. 'I want… I don't want to have to look for a bright side anymore. I want things to be good without me trying so hard.' She didn't know where this was coming from, except that it had to come from the unknown in front of her. The wood under her paws. The rocking motion that stirred her stomach and made her feel a little like she was flying even when she stood still. The air chilling her to the bone and wetting her face and making it feel like she could go forever–

She backed away from the wooden bar keeping her from the endless water, right into Kappi's chest. He wrapped his wings around her and situated himself to hold her close.

'You can have that,' he told her, his voice gentle. 'It won't be perfect, nothing ever is, but it won't be hard, either.'

'I don't know where to go, or what to do…' She didn't say that part of things being good would be feeling like she could fend for herself, and that she would never be able to. He knew. Her wings were no secret, no hidden defect. Her weak, vulnerable skin was even more obvious. He had to know that what he promised was impossible.

'Just give it some time,' he suggested. 'Some pain and some discomfort and a lot of anxiety. A bit of struggling, not too much but some.'

'Why?' she asked. Why was he saying these things? She wanted to be assured that it would all be easy and perfect… Or maybe she didn't want that, because it could not possibly be true, but still.

'You've got some growing up to do, and I mean that in the most positive possible way,' he rumbled. 'Part of growing up is that you don't have to stand on your own right away. Let us help you.'

'Us…' she hummed.

That sounded good. She wasn't sure she knew what good was, after so long mired in cold and pain and forced cheer, but she would find out.

O-O-O

Eret was surprisingly easy to talk around, all things considered. Sure, Ruffnut had needed to resort to threats to get him cooperating initially, but a bit of sweet-talking after that had him tentatively agreeing that it was probably best he carry them wherever she wanted to go.

That agreement probably had a lot to do with him freaking out about 'betraying' Drago and being possible dragon food if he angered her, but it was still progress. She'd save the "you helped Drago by stopping him from attacking an ally" argument for the next time he lost his nerve. She would allow no hedging of bets, he was all-in on her side and staying that way.

But Eret was handled for the moment. His sailors followed his lead, and the soldiers from other ships that they had in the hold were all too heavily injured to cause problems. She was pretty sure she had this handled.

Which meant it was time to bask in the glory and admiration she so rightly deserved. "Hey, Von, is Maour still down there?"

'He's coming back up now,' Von reported.

"Good, I want to get us all in a huddle to figure out what's coming next." And to gloat. Mostly to gloat, with a side-order of enough useful planning that nobody could in good conscience duck out before she was done.

Soon enough her will was done; she had Maour, Toothless, Von, and the grey-skinned weird Fury all together right in front of the cabin, within earshot of the moody one that ignored her. That was a challenge for when she got bored managing Eret; the stoic, silent types were always the most fun to annoy.

"Friends, dragons, I have called you here today to hear my tale of trickery and excellence," she began.

Toothless thumped his tail on the deck. 'We have more important things to do than listen to you,' he huffed. 'Are we going to have to throw the sailors overboard and learn to sail this thing ourselves, or not?'

"No, I've got that handled," she retorted. "Don't worry your fun-deprived head about it. Now listen, I-"

"We're going to get off this ship at the first busy port we can find," Maour interrupted. "A few shed scales should be good pay for a less disgruntled captain."

"Yes, that's good, but listen," she tried again.

'What is a port?' the grey one asked. 'And a captain? And how will scales help?' She rubbed one paw against the side of a very obviously scaleless leg. 'I don't have any…'

"Skrill!" Ruffnut yelled. Everyone shut up. "Thank you. Now listen close, you'll want to hear what happened after I valiantly battled the big four-winged dragon into submission..."

O-O-O

Ruffnut had a knack for seeing opportunities where others saw only obstacles. Or so Boom was fond of saying; her dragon friend was great at causing mayhem and planning tricks, but it was the improvisation where Ruffnut shined. The taking of various unimportant things and wielding them to attack problems from entirely unexpected angles.

So, when she had followed the four-winged dragon's tracks back to the scene of the crash and found a nearly-dead Skrill there, she didn't do the obvious thing and put it out of its misery. Not immediately. She saw the chance to do something else entirely, something important.

The Skrill was only barely alive, and fading fast. He had dragged himself a short distance away from the crash site by his wings, but he was dragging the entire back half of his body as dead weight. His underside was coated in old snow and blood, and not a single spark could be seen dancing across his scales.

There was playing dead and there was dying, and Ruffnut doubted anyone could fake this, or would go to the effort when there was nobody around to see it. He was so out of it, trying and failing to pull himself one more struggling winglength forward, that he hadn't even noticed her approach.

Killing him would be easy. Waiting for him to die would be even easier; she had the time.

"You're dying." The physical sound of her voice was drowned out by the wind long before it reached him, but the mental, dragon-ish part of it… That got through.

He stiffened, tried to turn himself, and collapsed entirely in the snow before he could even see her out of the corner of his eye.

She moved around his still body until she was upwind – thankfully his back was still to her, it would have made things complicated if his face was to the wind – and waved the alcohol-soaked pouch about, letting the fumes blow over to him. Thanks to the four-winged dragon making her spill some into the pouch earlier, she didn't even have to uncork the bottle itself.

'Smells like death,' the Skrill drawled. A single, forlorn spark popped up from his back, dying out in a quick flash. 'Not… bad. Not me, I hope.'

"Probably you," Ruffnut whispered. "The Usurpers did you in."

'I will survive,' the Skrill growled. His left wing twitched, then fell still again.

He wasn't going to live past nightfall, let alone long enough to heal from having his back broken along with who knew what else, but Ruffnut didn't tell him that. She let more of the alcohol's addling fumes waft over, then spoke again. "I hold no love for them either," she lied. "I could take revenge for you, too. Or I could let it go… They destroyed you, they might do the same to me."

'Lie to them, get close...' A low, crackling cough worked its way out of his ruined body. His voice had a delirious quality to it, growing stronger as she crept closer and let the wind carry her sabotage to him. 'Shred tails, put eyes out… One quick strike dooms them.'

"Tell me why I should, and I might." She was not nearly so invested in the mystery of the Skrill's hate as Maour or many of the Night Furies she knew. People could hate without reason; it was probably some stupid slight blown out of proportion by the centuries. Or maybe they just hated anything with cute ear nubs. But it was still worth asking about. When else would she get such a perfect opportunity?

'Usurpers,' he groaned. He tried to turn again, but something cracked and he fell back, unable to see her. 'Let me see… you.'

"Tell me why your kind hates them," Ruffnut insisted. "Give me reason to care. The truth." She considered throwing the sodden pouch over his face, but that was more likely to outright knock him out than make him feel especially truthful. The fumes had gotten a caged dragon rambling, and they had to be having some effect on him now, but too much and she would get nothing.

'The truth…' he wheezed. 'Your kind… whatever kind… you forget so easily. That this is not where we started.'

Ruffnut shut her mouth like her life depended on it. She never thought she'd get this far, but she'd never hear the end of it if she said something to ruin his talkative mood. It was lucky the Skrill could even talk, with how injured he was, let alone that she'd convinced him to spill secrets to a supposed dragon he couldn't see. Alcohol-aided luck, sure, but luck nonetheless.

'Not our place, none of us,' the dying Skrill continued. 'Above for the humans… Below for the rest. They were… important. They had it all. They were greedy. Took power, took it from its place, led the craven masses up. Betrayed us, usurped the high alphas, invaded… Here.'

The distant sounds of battle echoed across the ice field, underlaid by the howling wind. For a moment, she thought the Skrill had died then and there.

'Usurpers stole power, took so many up,' he said in a low, fading voice. 'So long ago… We exiled them after. Never to return. The masses… forgot. Not their fault, but never to return. Usurpers, though… Usurpers should die. Of the four, the dark... The dark broke the peace. They will never be forgiven by... by the three they killed and tricked and trapped, the three…'

He tried to move his neck one more time, twisting his entire body to the side with a single convulsion. His right wing bent at an unnatural angle, something snapped loudly enough that Ruffnut heard it, and he fell to the ground one final time, so broken he couldn't move at all.

'They ruined everything and our kind dies every day because of it,' he gasped. 'Is that… enough? Of a reason?'

His breathing stuttered, then stopped entirely.

Ruffnut waited for a short while, her hands cold and her nose numb, just to be sure. Then she spoke, loud and clear.

"No, but it was a pretty interesting story anyway. Totally worth listening to."

The dead corpse didn't leap up and eviscerate her for failing to uphold her side of the deal, so she supposed he really was dead. She turned her back on his body and started walking back to Eret. Back to his ship, back to her plan… She had some Night Furies to save.

O-O-O

"Is that exactly what he said?" Maour demanded. "Word for word?"

"All of the important words," Ruffnut confirmed, a smug smile firmly fixed on her face. Toothless honestly couldn't blame her. She had gotten answers – rambling, disjointed answers, but answers nonetheless – from a Skrill. "I made sure to remember them for you all."

'You should write it down,' Von murmured. 'So we don't forget.'

"I have parchment in Von's saddle,' Maour offered. 'Write it down right now. The Eldurs will throw us all off a cliff if we don't get it down as soon as possible." He reached for Von's saddle, and she turned to let him more easily access it.

"Yeah, sure… I'll tell the story again and you can write it down." She leaned back against the cabin's door, staring up at the mast. "Like I said, I had just finished–"

"Give me time to get the parchment out," Maour complained, apparently acquiescing to writing for her. Toothless would have refused on principle, but Maour giving in was more likely to get the task done with much less hassle…

Toothless didn't have to stick around for Ruffnut's encore, though. Only Maour needed to do that. He decided to go check on Star. He could make sure she was still alive up there on the cabin roof, at least. She would snap at him – or maybe being free would curb her usually acidic tongue – but he would at least be sure she was doing okay. He leaped up to haul himself onto the top of the cabin. She was stuck on this ship…

With the rest of them…

He pulled himself the rest of the way, squinting at the empty space where Star had been. 'Star?' he barked, a worm of worry gnawing at his gut. Maybe she had fallen off!

"Man, he was so wrapped up in my story he didn't notice a dragon flying away from the ship!" Ruffnut exclaimed.

A dumbfounded silence reigned.

"What, none of you saw it?" Ruffnut loudly asked. "She up and flew off halfway through. I guess she was the only one not totally captivated by my excellent storytelling skills."

'Star can't fly!' Grey barked.

"Sure she can," Ruffnut retorted. "Flap the wings, push up… Can't you?"

Toothless made sure to "accidentally" smack Ruffnut with his tail on the way down from the cabin's roof. 'Maour, I–'

"On it." Maour tossed his parchment to Von, who deftly caught it on her nose, and leaped up onto Toothless' back. "She's not supposed to be able to fly, right?"

'No.' He pushed off the deck so hard the ship rocked a little. 'She is not.'

He didn't know what this meant. How she could suddenly fly, whether she could all along, how all of her actions and remarks and attitude might be recontextualized if she was never grounded to begin with… He didn't understand.

"She's over there," Maour called out. Toothless instinctively accessed his brother's sight, only to see himself from the deck far below and recall that he was linked with Grey, not Maour. One long moment of vertigo later, he snapped back to his own point of view. They would need to get their links sorted out; he was pretty sure Maour had one with Von at present, but that could wait.

He wheeled around in the sky, turning on stiff, sore wings, and immediately spotted the distant figure in the air, headed out over the ice field.

Catching up to her wasn't a difficult task. He was tired and unused to flying after so long going without, but her gait was awkward and her wings were crooked, which impacted her speed and efficiency even if it wasn't severe enough to actually ground her. He closed the distance between them with ease.

'You keep your secrets close to the chest!' he barked out once he was close enough.

'Go away!' Star shrieked, flapping faster, but to no avail. He cautiously flew up beside her, turning with her when she tried to turn away.

'You can fly,' he said accusingly.

'So can you,' she snarled. 'So what? Leave me be.'

'If you plan on going your own way, I just want to know so we do not worry about sticking around for you to find again,' he offered. He didn't have it in him to be too harsh to her. No amount of caustic rudeness disqualified her for a place on their escape ship, and for all that she lashed out with her tongue he had never seen her harm anyone with anything other than words.

'Show me where,' she demanded.

'Where what?' he huffed, confused.

'Where Sadistic died.' She ducked down, putting a bit of distance between them, and he let her. 'I can't find it.'

'Follow me,' he offered. He knew the place. According to Ruffnut, Sadistic hadn't made it any noticeable distance from the site of his crash-landing. It wasn't far, just on the edge of the channel smashed into the ice field…

"What's her deal?" Maour asked quietly as they flew.

'Rude, spiteful, a bully toward Grey, maybe has a thing for Hefnd or me or neither of us,' Toothless summarized. 'Sadistic took her out of her pit at night without telling anyone, and they both lied to cover it up after. She was a prisoner for much less time than Grey. Beyond that, I don't know.'

He chanced a look back. Star was following, though she was glaring at his tail. Maybe at his false tailfin specifically, or maybe just at him. He would be careful to keep both the tailfin and Maour out of her reach. She wasn't usually physically violent, but he definitely didn't know enough about her to rule anything out.

He settled into a shallow glide on their final approach, landing easily in the snow near the crumpled-up Skrill body. Star, by contrast, hit the ground with a heavy thump. She prowled forward, her claws out, and circled around the body once. Twice. Three times.

Then she walked up to his head, put one paw on it, and licked one of his horns. Followed by a completely unexpected blast of fire to the head, breaking said horn off in its entirety.

Toothless wished he could claim that all was clear to him now, but in truth he was even more confused.

'Stupid, twisted idiot,' Star growled, and he couldn't tell if she was talking about the dead dragon or herself. 'I shouldn't care. I know you didn't.'

Toothless shuffled his paws, feeling uncomfortable.

'And you!' Star snapped, her angry gaze jumping up to fix on Toothless. 'You did this.'

'This?' He kicked in Sadistic's general direction. 'Yes, and I don't regret it.' Though technically it had been his siblings who killed Sadistic, he was the reason they were here in the first place. 'He was a monster.'

'To you, maybe,' she snapped. 'We had an understanding. He didn't hurt me badly, and I wouldn't try to fly away. He let me fly some nights, so long as I stuck close to the ice nest, and he practiced catching me.'

'Meanwhile, he tortured the rest of the prisoners whenever he saw fit,' Toothless shot back. 'And used you to get better at hunting our kind!'

'He was not horrible to me, and that is all I care about,' Star snarled. 'I know very well he would have killed me if he was free to do as he pleased, but he was not and there was no escape, not with the Skrill just chafing for something to do that felt like their duty. Einn proved that.'

'Where was all this empathy when it came to Grey?' Toothless asked.

'She's a miserable sack of waste with a happy exterior and not worth thinking about,' Star snapped. 'I don't answer to you.'

'No, you don't.' And he couldn't be happier to wash his paws of any responsibility for her or her actions. 'You had allies right there, and you chose to make friends with your captor. That's disgusting.'

'Survival is disgusting now?' Star snarled, pawing at the snow. The body of Sadistic still lay between them, a morbid divider Toothless was unwilling to cross. 'I did what I had to. I cozied up to the one with power, not the powerless victims. And it turned out that he was more tolerable than some of my own kind, because at least he wasn't a broken waste of life hiding under a rock for the rest of his life.'

'Speak ill of Grey one more time…' He felt Maour's hand on his neck, possibly intended to be calming, but he ignored it. 'No. I'm done with you. I hope you go on to live a normal life, so normal that you look back and realize just how twisted this all was of you.'

'We're all twisted,' Star ground out, glaring imaginary holes in his head. 'Some more than others. You just keep making friends with the weak. One day someone will rip them from you and you'll realize the only ones worth knowing are the ones strong enough to survive, no matter how horrible they have to be to do it.'

She leaped into the air, her crooked wings beating double-time to keep her up and at the right angle.

Toothless let her go. He had nothing more to say to her. If this was the last he ever saw of her, he would be content.

But if it wasn't… That last little rant could be interpreted as a threat.

'I want everyone to keep a very close eye on Grey until we are home,' he said to Maour. 'Star has always had it out for her.'

"I don't think she's going to do anything," Maour said thoughtfully. "I don't think… We'll be careful, of course, but… yeah." He sighed heavily, leaning back. "I don't know. I really don't. You'd know better than me. But I think she's hurting, not murderous."

He shook his head. 'With the company she apparently preferred to keep, I'm worried there might not be much of a difference.'

O-O-O

Even at night, the shoreline of the broken ice nest crawled with light and activity. Green torches were lit everywhere, some moving and some still. Metal clanked on metal and dragons roamed around, the armored ones existing in an uneasy state of peace with the soldiers.

Nobody knew for sure what was going to happen next. The liaison between the humans and dragons was dead in the water, his bulk blocking the tide and causing strange currents that rocked the smaller ships pulled up behind the ones that had been beached during the battle. Without him, the dragons lacked a leader. A controller, from Drago's point of view. But there was no fresh fighting breaking out; the dragons had lost the one who ensured the humans tolerated them, and they too were afraid of breaking the peace.

It wouldn't last. Not like this. But it would hold for a little while. Both sides needed time to lick their wounds. The humans were temporarily stuck at the ice nest while they fixed and maneuvered their ships, and many of the dragons wouldn't survive flying out to find a safer resting place. Not in the cold and increasingly heavy snow falling from the heavy clouds above.

Maour would have happily left them to figure it out on their own, if it wasn't for one thing. One remaining cause of guilt, of obligation.

There were two flightless Night Furies still on the island, and he could not in good conscience leave either of them to Drago's nonexistent mercy. Einn might have gotten them dragged into this whole mess, but he didn't deserve that, and neither did his son.

Toothless took them low around the back of the ice nest, well out of sight of any watchful eyes on the ships. The nest was a mostly-stable mound of broken ice, having finished collapsing in on itself. He glided in on silent wings, landing where Maour indicated.

Hefnd and Einn had left the crevice Von had found them in, as it was empty. Where they had gone from there, though… Ice didn't take pawprints.

'Where would they go, when everything they knew was collapsing around them?' Toothless hummed as they paced along the length of the crevice. 'They would have no reason to approach the dragons who went about their lives within eyeshot of their suffering. They couldn't go back to our enclosure if they wanted to.' Said enclosure, whatever it might originally have looked like, was just another pile of scattered rubble now.

"I don't know," Maour said. Toothless would know them better than he did. "We could ask some humans… If Drago has them, the news might have filtered down through the ranks."

'You said Drago wouldn't want to break the peace, surely that applies to all the dragons who are sticking around?' Toothless huffed. He took to the air, flying them up and out of the ruined nest. 'Drago doesn't know that Einn and Hefnd probably don't trust any of the other dragons here.'

"He doesn't even know they were captives," Maour clarified. "Maybe not even that they exist, but we can't be sure of that." This would have been a lot easier if he still had his uneasy alliance with Drago. He could have walked right up to the warlord and claimed that the other Night Furies needed to go with him, or else they would go berserk. Drago would probably even have agreed, given his attitude toward Night Furies.

Such a move might still work now, but it wasn't worth risking Drago having a quiver of arrows put through him the moment he showed his face. Not when he didn't even know if Drago had them.

'Hey!' Toothless barked, startling Maour out of his brooding thoughts. 'You, armored one, down here.'

'Night Fury with rider!' a dusty brown Nadder with a dented breastplate flew down to them, his wings flapping with a restraint that spoke of deep tiredness. 'How goes it? Human still treating you well?'

'Of course, why wouldn't he?' Toothless asked, feigning ignorance.

'Lucky,' the Nadder sighed. 'In hindsight, it was a big mistake to let the alpha deal with the humans for us… Now we don't know whether they are going to stick together, or go hunting another bad nest, or turn on us the moment they feel they can. It's a bad time for those of us who want to stick around.'

'Some of you want to stay with Drago?' Toothless asked with a curious warble. 'Why?' He had of course seen the ones shadowing Drago from above, but Maour understood his continued confusion. They had never given any reason as to why and refused to talk, while this Nadder seemed perfectly willing to explain.

'We did good work here, even if it was us against our own kin in some cases,' the Nadder explained, diving down to fly below them. 'But if there is one nest like this, there could be more.'

Maour knew from experience that there had definitely been at least one more. One could be unique, two a fluke, but three if one counted the alpha who led the attack on this nest… There had to be more out there in the world. This was not a single, isolated issue.

'There are almost certainly more,' Toothless agreed, likely thinking along the same lines as Maour.

'Yes, and if the humans want to keep hunting those nests, then we would like to fly with them, same as before,' the Nadder explained. 'Maybe with more respect, but mostly the same, I should say. But none of us can talk to their alpha and explain what we are thinking, and there has been so much bloodshed… Some of us are sure they'll welcome us with open wings, and they're even convincing recruits… it's a big fat mess of uncertainty.'

'Recruits from this nest?' Toothless guessed.

'Yes, even two of your kind.'

Toothless craned his neck to look down at the Nadder. 'Really?' It seemed they had just found Einn and Hefnd.

O-O-O

The armored dragons who wanted to stay with Drago's forces had made a small makeshift nest down by the base of the icy debris, claiming the nooks and crannies created by the larger structures that were less likely to collapse. It was a defensible position, mostly out of sight, within easy flying distance of the human encampments further down the shoreline.

Toothless walked around a corner, following his Nadder guide, and saw both of the Furies he sought under a precarious overhang next to several dead bodies.

Hefnd and Einn were working together to pry a conical helmet off of a dead Zippleback. Neither of them had figured out the chin strap holding it on, probably because it had gotten wedged out of sight between two overlapping scales, so they were trying to pull it off by force. An ill-fitting back plate lay loose on Hefend's back, his wings up to keep it in place, and Einn was sporting a neck guard from a much skinnier dragon around his left front leg.

Toothless buried the urge to laugh himself silly at the ridiculous sight. He could laugh later. Once he understood what they thought they were doing. 'Einn. Hefnd.'

Both Furies let go of the helmet like fledglings having been caught stealing a forbidden fish. Hefnd whirled, and his backplate slid right off and thumped to the ground in front of Einn, who turned much more slowly.

'Kappi,' Hefnd growled. 'Not dead yet?'

'Surprisingly, nobody from our little patch of misery is dead,' Toothless huffed. 'Except the Skrill.'

'Good riddance. And the pretender on your back…' Hefnd bared his teeth. 'Or maybe you are the pretender, since it came all the way here to save you.'

'Humans can be impressively tenacious,' Toothless remarked. 'What's with the armor?' He waved a wing at their sorry state. 'It doesn't go on that way, you know.'

'What else are we going to do?' Hefnd snarled. 'Swim away from here? Fly?'

"We have a way to get you to wherever you want, if you're willing to put up with us for a little while," Maour spoke up. "Standing offer. Drago is not good to your kind, specifically. Joining him might be a big mistake."

Einn nudged Hefnd with the tip of his wing, but Hefnd shoved him right back with more force than strictly necessary. 'No. I'm done with all of you and this. I want to kill alphas, and these humans want the same. I'm going with them.'

Toothless thought about that. About Einn, and how he was trying to help Hefnd put armor on. 'Does your father want that?'

'He can go with you if he wishes,' Hefnd growled. 'I don't need him. Haven't for a long time.'

'I'm not asking what he wants to do,' Toothless shot back, dismayed but unsurprised by the younger male's attitude. Hefnd had a strained relationship with his father, and suddenly breaking free of their shared torment didn't seem to have magically solved any of their issues. 'I'm asking what you want for him. Does this seem like a good future for him?'

'It's a good one for me,' Hefnd shot back.

'But not him.' Toothless could see angry, combative Hefnd doing well in a larger group of dragons seeking righteous war. There were far worse things he could turn his anger towards. But not Einn. Not the passive, tired dragon he knew.

'He'll come or go as he wishes,' Hefnd dismissed. 'I am not holding him to me. If you can take him to some paradise…'

Toothless had said nothing about a paradise, but he held his tongue. Hefnd turned to look back at his father.

Einn grabbed the backplate with his teeth and offered it to Hefnd. He still wore that one ill-fitting neck brace around one leg.

'If you've got somewhere for him to rest,' Hefnd said quietly, the heat gone from his voice, 'I think that would be best.'

Einn wilted, his ears falling as he let the backplate fall from his mouth.

'Not because I want you gone,' Hefnd continued, speaking directly to his father. 'Because where I'm going you shouldn't have to follow. Not out of guilt, or thinking you can make up for… everything. I would rather you just go somewhere nice and be as happy as you can manage. I won't go with you, but I would like to know you are there.'

Einn let out a shaky sigh and nodded. He pressed his nose against Hefnd's chest, then kicked the leg armor off and walked over to Toothless.

Toothless made eye contact with the despondent dragon. 'We'll show you where to hide until we can bring the ship back around to pick you up.' Ruffnut would enjoy convincing Eret to sail back into danger yet again, he was sure.

"And as for you," Maour continued, hopping off Toothless' back. "I can show you how it's supposed to go on. And a few other important things."

'Maour?' Toothless had thought they were going to leave Hefnd to it.

"We can't just leave things like this," Maour answered.

Toothless got the impression his brother was talking about more than Hefnd's decision.

O-O-O

Some time later, Maour found his way behind a modest tent, one that had just a few too many guards to belong to anyone but Drago. The sun was supposed to be rising, but the near-blizzard beating down on the entire island gave no opportunity for its warming rays to reach the world below.

He was tired and cold, and his boots were soaked through. He wanted to leave, to flee to warmer waters with his siblings and their commandeered ship.

But, as he had said to his brother before laying out his thoughts on the matter, they couldn't leave things like this. Not when it was all so close to working out, but so very, very fragile. To leave would be to allow this new, mostly positive arrangement between men and dragons to die. Or perhaps even to allow Drago to revert to his old ways for one reason or another. To trust to chance to make the world better.

This wasn't his fight, maybe it wasn't even his business, but he was here and he wanted a better world. He could do something, so he would.

Two dark dragons waited behind him as he cut a slit in the back of Drago's tent. The guards who were supposed to be watching the back had both gone off to warm their hands, lest they lose them. Only for a moment, but this wouldn't take long.

Drago might be paranoid of Night Furies, but it was impossible to instill the same level of fear in men who had never lived through what he had. They were not expecting danger to come slinking in the night, they expected it to arrive on wings and flaming bright, like it always had in the past.

Drago was seated at a flimsy desk, his back to Maour. Two green lamps lit the tent with their eerie glow.

"I should have known the one to fly with them would be as them, impossible to have at my side without having at my back," Drago said tiredly, his back still to the tear in his tent. "Where did I go wrong? Where did I make you feel trapped, that you had to flee?"

"You misunderstand," Maour said firmly, his voice cold. "We are not here to kill you. Though perhaps you deserve it. The dragon rider…"

"I looked into her eyes at long last," Drago said as he pushed his wooden chair back. It scraped against the rocky ground. He turned, and his sharp grey eyes all but burned with intensity as he stood and faced Maour. "I looked, and I saw nothing. Nothing but a feral, hateful beast. I had hoped for more. Someone who believed in something."

"Yeah. Me too." He would be lying if he claimed he wasn't disappointed, in the end. The specter of another dragon rider had turned out to be impressive shadows cast on a wall by the less than impressive reality. Whatever, whoever the dragon rider had been, they made no difference in the world beyond befriending a single dragon and inspiring fear in already fearful men.

One of the two Furies behind Maour growled. He didn't know which, but whoever it was reminded him why he was here. "You lost your ally. The King."

"I had hoped he would survive this day," Drago admitted, something in the hard lines of his face softening minutely. He looked older, for a moment. "To fight by my side for so long… To give me the allegiance of his followers. That was not a thing I took for granted. Even if he left me here, to rule as a new King, I would have been content."

"What were you going to do next?" Maour asked.

"Seek out rumors of coordinated dragon strikes elsewhere, and begin again where I was most needed," Drago said, his fists tightening at his sides. "Until we are overcome or until I die. This was but one nest. But now, without dragons… It will be so much more difficult."

"You are not without dragons." He felt a little better about the knowledge he was about to impart, hearing that. Not everything, not even the most important things, but enough. Enough to see Drago permanently aimed in the right directions, until he lost or died of age, like he had said. "Some, maybe even the majority, want the same thing. To keep going, to find another tyrant and oppose them."

"Without one to corral and direct them…" Drago objected. "You cannot possibly know what even one of the horde wants, let alone all of them."

"I can ask." He swept his arms back, and a Night Fury walked up to either side of him, sticking their heads into the tent. "And they can answer. That is my secret. I can hear and be heard."

"Madness," Drago growled, sounding so much like a dragon himself.

"Some of those here want to follow you." Toothless stepped back and Hefnd came into the tent, displaying the modified Zippleback chestplate Maour had helped him put on. "Not to serve and mindlessly obey. Not to die in your stead. To fight alongside you."

Hefnd growled, showing a hint of teeth, his ears partially down. His orange-eyed glare must have rivaled Drago's own, for Drago blinked first.

"This truly is madness," Drago repeated, more vehemently. His right hand subtly slid backward, seeking his polearm, but it was out of reach and he must dare not move more openly for fear of inviting death too fast to be stopped.

"Madness you need, if you are to continue fighting for freedom elsewhere," Maour said firmly. "Drago Bludvist, you have committed atrocities against my kin. You have also fought tirelessly to free them. I cannot say whether the two cancel out, and if I could I would say they do not… But someone is willing to extend the barest minimum of trust that you will continue to make up for your past choices, if given the means. Someone wants to fight alongside you. Hold out your hand."

They held there for a long moment, nobody moving. The guards… Toothless must have dealt with them, or they were really slacking on their duty. Nothing changed, nobody intervened or ruined the moment. It was very much like just before Ruffnut crashed into their earlier standoff, but with the boot on the other foot. Drago had nowhere to go and no way to understand his opponents, what they were thinking or what they wanted.

Perhaps it was practicality that had him slowly reaching out with his right hand. He had no choice in the matter, none that led anywhere but death. Or perhaps he wanted to believe, to understand. To grasp that which had long been hidden from him.

Hefnd leaned forward, making contact with Drago's rough, old hand. Their gazes locked.

Drago and Hefnd both collapsed, the former falling on the latter as they fell to the ground.

Maour waited, his chest tight and his heart racing, until they both stirred. Toothless was right behind him, should things go wrong. This was not right, what he had facilitated, Drago in no way deserved a connection with a Night Fury… But it wasn't about what he deserved, it was about what would fix the cracking bonds holding him and his army to the right path. What would give all of this a chance to move in a positive direction, instead of falling back into the same old conflicts.

'You are heavy, for a human,' Hefnd grumbled as he shoved Drago up. Drago stumbled back, still obviously dizzy, and leaned heavily against his desk, which creaked warningly at his weight. 'Do you hear me?'

"Yes," Drago said weakly, staring in disbelief at Maour's unmoving lips for some alternate explanation for what he was hearing. "I… This is not possible."

'Anything is possible when idiots decide they can't leave well enough alone,' Hefnd growled. 'I just wanted to help kill alphas, but they said this was the only way that would work.'

"You… will not fly away?" Drago asked, sounding more vulnerable than Maour had ever heard. "Turn on me?"

'I will do as I choose, but listen to me and treat me as an equal and you will have nothing to fear,' Hefnd said stiffly. 'If you cannot do that, say now. I will not be trapped again.'

"I will not make that mistake again," Drago promised. "Never that."

'That is a start.'

Maour backed out of the tent, content to leave them to it. Well, not content, he was itching to stay right there and supervise for the next six months, but he had other obligations. Hefnd was by no means a good diplomatic choice, and Drago was a horrible person in many ways. They might drive each other to murderous rage, or any number of other undesirable outcomes. He didn't expect them to like each other, even in the best-case scenario.

But he had given them a chance. Drago would talk to Hefnd, Hefnd would talk back. They both had something the other wanted, and in neither case was it something that could be taken by force. In a few months, Drago would begin to hear other dragons speaking, and by then…

By then, who knew where they would be. Somewhere other than here. Drago had all the chances in the world, maybe more than he deserved. It was up to him and Hefnd to make the most of this last one.

Maour hauled himself up onto Toothless' back one last time, and they were off, leaving the uncertain future behind amidst the ruins of an icy prison.

O-O-O

Author's Note : I can confirm, in meta terms, that Sadistic is telling the truth as he knows it. There should be just enough here to let readers piece together a mostly full picture without any further clarification. Obviously there's space to further explore the idea, but at the same time I think this is  enough  of an answer to go on if no further exploration is done.

As for Valka, now that we're totally done mentioning her in-story… I decided early on in the rewriting and by extension re-plotting of this story that where it originally went with her character was  way  too predictable and wasn't actually at all interesting, especially as the role of 'Hiccup/Maour's mother' is already filled in this AU. (Anyone who would like more detail on that or any aspect of how the first draft was meant to go is free to PM me about it, I'm entirely willing to give a synopsis.) This was about the same time I revised Drago to his current, more nuanced form, so I decided to balance the two by inverting their canon roles. Drago gained depth and has questionable past decisions to ponder, whereas Valka's canon depth and questionable past decisions never came up. Drago's personal story is not over, whereas Valka's is. One was an enemy that could not be reasoned with and one had their own, mostly aligned goals with subtle but important motivational differences that were challenged and possibly altered by the end of the story… but switched around from canon.

I expect that this will not / did not please some readers, but in all fairness it is only the canon story that places importance on her identity. This story did not at any point do so, and there was a reason for that. I chose to entirely avoid the tired cliche of her unmasking and all of the inevitable, mostly plot-irrelevant fallout that entailed. She served as a great 'Darth Vader' type enforcer in the plot and worked as a smokescreen to obscure some important setup (looking at you Sadistic, nobody guessed the ultimate purpose of your timeline in chapters 26-27 in part because Valka stole the focus every scene you were in), while also giving Drago a great excuse to want one exceptional dragon rider on his side even if they came with a Night Fury.  I  quite like how her character was handled, and that's the deciding opinion.

One more proper chapter to go!

Chapter Text

O-O-O

The world was big.

This was the sum total of Grey's conclusions after a week of observation and a thousand questions. The world was big and she had seen none of it. Even if she counted the things she half-remembered from her time as a hatchling, which really shouldn't count as it was all so fuzzy, she had seen basically nothing.

It was oddly comforting to understand that all of the horrible things she had experienced happened in a tiny, forgotten corner of a wider and hopefully kinder world. Listening to Kappi and his siblings, such was the case. Even when they spoke of war and other problems, all she heard was that these things happened in the past. They were gone and would stay gone, leaving better things in their wake.

"Ready?" Maour asked her, his nasally human voice catching her attention just as thoroughly as the young male Night Fury's voice that came with it.

'Throw it!' she barked, safe in the knowledge that there would be no consequence for being loud or enthusiastic, not even one as inconsequential as Star making some rude comment.

Maour tossed the balled-up crinkly thing – parchment, he had called it, a new word to associate with a new thing – at her, and she expertly batted it out of the air with a paw. It fell to the deck, where she smashed it flat with her other paw. Her claws dug into the wood as she expertly shredded the crumpled result.

One of the humans watching from elsewhere on the deck grumbled something low and long.

Maour shrugged his tiny shoulders at them. "Put it on our tab, then. But this is a dragon trapping ship, what's a few more claw marks on the deck?"

The other human grumbled some more, but Grey did her best to ignore him. She didn't quite understand who these humans were, beyond the bits and pieces she overheard from the two humans who spoke in a way she could understand, but it was fine. Kappi's brother and the unrelated female with blond nubs atop her head had it under control. The dragons hidden inside the ship had all been set free, the cages disassembled so they couldn't be used again on short notice.

Grey had watched as the other dragons were freed, back when the ice field was still visible behind the ship. Some of them had snarled at her – at the Night Furies as a group, maybe, but after so long trapped in their nest she felt it was directed specifically at her – but they had left without picking a fight.

She sometimes dreamed that they had come back and taken her, and that she was being carried back to the ice nest, but those were just dreams. Kappi had told her to be careful, but also not to worry about such things. He and his sister and all the other people on the ship were looking out for her specifically.

That helped her sleep well enough to avoid nightmares, most of the time.

"Did you think about what we were talking about yesterday?" Maour asked, pulling another sheet of parchment out. She watched as he crumpled it up with his deft little claws.

'Fixing my wings?' She wasn't opposed to the result, only the method. 'Is there no easier way than breaking them and realigning them?'

"None that I know," Maour confirmed. "Though you'll have to ask Eldurhjarta when we reach the Isle of Night. I don't want to speak for her."

'I will do that.' And in the meantime she would try to get used to the idea of having her wings broken… It would hurt so much, she still vaguely remembered the pain of having them broken the first time… It was a hard concept to grasp, and a harder sacrifice to commit to.

The alternative, staying on her paws, forever barred from the sky… It had never troubled her overmuch before, but perhaps only because it was an impossibility. Her mother had said to be grounded was to be driven insane, but that had never happened to her, or if it had she had never noticed. She could stand remaining grounded.

For now she had no choice, the one who could fix her was not here. Maybe she would feel differently later. Maybe once she had her life together on her paws, she could retake the air. One thing at a time.

'I might do it, even if she says that breaking them again is the only way,' she told Maour. It was only fair she let him know she hadn't dismissed his request outright. He wanted her to think about it, not forget about it until later.

"It's fine either way, I just wanted to make sure you know what your options are," he said. He held up the new ball of parchment. "Ready?"

'Ready!'

O-O-O

Ruffnut had been waiting for this moment since the first time she laid eyes on the hunky chunk of man that was Eret, son of Eret. They were alone in a small room, Maour and his draconic siblings were elsewhere, the two less than interesting tagalong Furies were lazing about elsewhere, and Eret's crew was busy. It was the perfect moment.

Now if only he would stop unrolling his precious map and notice her existence…

"Show me where this Mahelmetan island is," he said, pinning the map to the table by the corners. "I've never heard of it."

"Oh, that?" She mentally rearranged the map right-side up in her mind, then tried to estimate distances. "Right about… here." in the empty air a good two paces to the South of what his map covered.

"No, seriously," Eret retorted.

"This is as serious as I can be," Ruffnut said. "Take it or leave it. We want to go here, way down South."

"That will be months of sailing, and the people down there are as likely to stab you as trade with you!" Eret complained. He was decidedly less attractive when he crossed his arms and scowled at her like he was doing now. She hadn't even done anything to earn his ire… this time. "How am I supposed to feed my crew? Pay them, even, since your 'friend' let all the captured dragons go?"

"Same way we're feeding four Night Furies, three of which were literally starving when we arrived," Ruffnut pointed out. "All the fresh fish you can eat, no effort required." Though the invalids were eating disappointingly normal portions, a far cry from the massive gorging sessions she had expected. Something about them not being able to eat a lot after so long deprived.

"So we can die of scurvy instead of starvation?" he asked sarcastically. "Bottom line is I'm not taking you all the way out there as things stand. Your dragons can kill me, but so can abject poverty, mutiny, or disease. Make it worth my while or get off my ship."

Ruffnut knew an opening when she heard one. "You want me to make it worth your while?" she asked, smiling seductively at him.

He squinted at her, then shook his head. "Monetarily," he clarified, much to her disappointment. "I don't bed crazy."

"Darn." She could push, but that wouldn't be fun. She was interesting and zany and unpredictable, and if he didn't like that then maybe she didn't like him. All of his playing along and playing the boring complement to her, though…

"Wait." She held a hand out. "To be clear. You don't secretly enjoy the chaos I strive to cause in every aspect of my life?" She had assumed he did, but his position of authority drove him to deny it and act as if she was annoying.

"You're trying to-" He cut off his near-yelled question with a wince and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. Not going to ask. Just… Find some way to pay my crew well enough that they can tolerate you, or take your dragons and leave when we find somewhere still standing to resupply at."

"Well… Fine!" She spun around, her back to the utterly stodgy disappointment that was Eret, son of the likely equally boring senior Eret. Never had she been so disappointed. What good was a perfect body and a great fake exaggeration if the guy with both wasn't faking and really was that boring? To think that she had spent so much time messing with him! His name should have been the first clue, guys named after their ancestors never had any creativity, or if they did they never directed it in fun directions…

"Maour," she growled. "Hiccup the third, Eret the Eret… You're all the same."

"What?" Eret asked.

"Without a spark of talent!" she declared, whirling back around to glare at him. "That burning flame of passion for all things contradictory and destructive and creative! The need to break the shallow molds all the boring little people wallow in each and every day! To break things and burn things and make fun of the remnants!"

"I have never in my life even thought of any of that, and it sounds terrible to me," Eret said.

"To think I wasted my time on you," she lamented, tugging his map off the table and turning to go.

"Hey, that's my map!" he complained.

"Yeah, and it's not useful," she retorted. "I'm going to improve it." With all the necessary landmarks to navigate home, and if there were some particularly creative doodles in the margins, well, he wouldn't be able to get rid of them without cutting up his precious map.

O-O-O

On a normal day, Maour would have found Ruffnut's strenuous complaining tedious.

"I thought I'd found somebody fun and daring," Ruffnut moaned, scuffing her boot on the dock. Both hands were shoved in her tunic, and she was the picture of dejected misery. "Someone I could break out of the rule-following and stuffiness. Someone with a ship and weapons and a thirst for adventure."

'What part of 'traps and sells dragons' made you think he was adventurous?' Von asked. She sat in plain sight on top of the cabin, sending warning glares toward any human on the docks that so much as looked at her funny. Many of the wounded men tromping off the ship and into the docks of the rugged island outpost shied away from her glare.

More than a week of living in relatively close quarters to several Night Furies would do that to a person. When some of the Night Furies made every effort to keep the wounded too afraid to plot anything, that was. Toothless was the most aggressively intimidating, but Von had done her fair share.

"But no," Ruffnut groaned, sticking her foot out to trip a guy limping along on makeshift crutches. Maour kicked the lower end of his scythe out and knocked her foot away before anyone stumbled over her. "He really is as boring as he makes himself look. This whole trip has been a complete waste of time!"

'There are plenty more fish in the sea?' Von offered skeptically.

"I am hungry," Ruffnut mused. "Fresh-caught is better than the barrels of salted stuff boring Eret has been storing. Even his food is boring."

"That food was your idea, and it's paying well enough that he's probably going to take us all the way home," Maour offered. The last of the wounded soldiers left Eret's ship. The captain himself was hosting a portly trader below deck. Toothless, Grey and Einn were there too, providing an intimidating presence to make his bargaining position stronger… and to report on what he said.

Maour checked his brother's senses for a moment, reveling in his ability to do so. Breaking his connection to Von had been simple – his sister had always seen it as a necessity and was more than willing to give it up now that their brother was safe – but getting Toothless to break his with Grey was harder.

Toothless was lurking atop an empty crate, glaring down at the trader's head as she bargained with Eret. Maour could see Grey's tail off to the right of the two humans, as the inquisitive scaleless dragon explored the little labyrinth of cargo. Einn would be somewhere nearby.

"I think we can throw in two barrels of island citrus for such a high quality of salted herring," the trader was saying nervously, his voice hitching as Grey flicked her tail and disappeared from sight behind a bundled tarp. "Perhaps we could discuss the finer points in my establishment?"

"Here is good," Eret said smugly, making no effort to hide his amusement. "Sail with Drago for long and you get used to it." His nervous twitching was restrained enough that he could say as much with a straight face.

"Yes, well…" the trader blustered a bit, and Maour could tell his brother was bored by the way his eyes kept sliding over to watch the little hints Grey gave of her progress through the hold.

His brother had been reluctant to part with his link to Grey for reasons Maour could only describe as paternal. He had worried that she would see it as betrayal or abandonment, and that she was currently too fragile to take such a thing well. The eventual solution of presenting the breaking of the link as a way to allow Grey her privacy had solved that, but Maour would have been willing to let it wait until later if necessary.

Grey was… something else. She reminded Maour of his younger siblings – painfully so, sometimes – but in larger form and with far more doubt and fear. She wasn't like Einn, slow and quiet and subdued, and she wasn't like a real fledgling, willing to blindly trust that everything would work out.

She wasn't a lot of things, but it was hard to pin down what she was. Maybe that would get easier as time went on.

Maour returned to his own senses, satisfied that all was well below deck. Eret was even taking advantage of their presence to negotiate better deals, which boded well for the put-upon captain's mood as they continued on toward the Isle. He probably didn't mind putting some distance between himself and Drago's last known position, either.

"... Could have stolen his breeches and shredded them and thrown them in the soup," Ruffnut finished, breathing heavily like she had just completed a long, winded rant. "What do you think?"

Maour glanced over at Von. She gave him a toothy, entirely unhelpful smirk. "Uh," he said, looking back to Ruffnut. "I don't think most breeches would be edible no matter how long you boil them?" He certainly hoped she wasn't going to try such a thing.

"You know, you're right, I need to get some seasoning." Ruffnut agreed. "Thanks for listening!" She darted down the gangplank and disappeared behind a trio of startled fishermen.

"I wasn't listening," Maour admitted to Von. "What did I just help her with?"

'I will not say, but you should not take any food she offers you for the rest of this trip,' Von said with an amused trill.

"Well, that's a thing." He supposed he couldn't complain about her antics too much; they had been turned to useful ends throughout this entire unintended journey. He would just stick to freshly caught fish…

And maybe he'd warn Eret. Accidentally – or intentionally – poisoning the captain right as everything was going well seemed like exactly the sort of thing Ruffnut would do.

O-O-O

Einn rumbled contentedly as he splayed out across the top of the ship's cabin. His back was to the coarse wood, and his stomach was bathed in warm sunlight. Sure, the wind was icy and he was probably overall colder than he would have been sticking to the interior of the ship, but… the sun. And he didn't have to fear being snatched up by Skrill searching relentlessly for him.

If any Skrill somehow came upon him now, they would gut him and be done with it. He had no desire to die, none at all, but knowing that the alpha responsible for the icy prison and endless suffering was dead… It was a relief. No matter what happened, he would never be taken back there. Hefnd would never be taken back there.

He had escaped that place twice now, but this escape could not have been more different from the first. Gone was the pain, the stress of continuing to evade recapture, the endless pursuit. Gone was even the thought of those Skrill… Four of the five were dead, and the fifth didn't know he still lived at all. There was no guilt over having left his son behind…

Thinking of Hefnd made him… sad. Proud. Tired. Relieved. Everything and nothing all at once. He wasn't happy with how they had parted, but it was more than he deserved. He had known his son would fly his own way, the only difference was whether he would do it resentfully or not.

Einn knew he deserved to be resented, but to be all but forgiven… To be told Hefnd wanted him to be at peace…

He was doing his best to do exactly that. To let his son fly his own path, whatever that was going to be with the warlord who had come to free them and the pseudo-nest who followed him. Maybe someday word would reach the Isle of Hefnd's exploits. Or maybe not.

His chest twinged distantly, but the pain subsided before it really got started. This time.

Hefnd didn't know about his chest pains. He would have worried, and they only really started after that first unintentional escape, so Einn hadn't needed to hide them from him for very long. Now he didn't need to hide them at all, for however much time he had left.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the pains would cease entirely someday. Or maybe they were precursors to his death, hints that he didn't have much time left.

Whatever was coming, it would come in freedom and among those who cared, and Hefnd wouldn't have to worry about it. Wherever he was, whatever he chose to do with his life, he wouldn't have to live with guilt.

The breeze drifted across Einn's face, bringing with it the scent of pine needles and fresh water. The ship was stopped at a little island to restock on water, and maybe in a little while he would go down to drink from the stream himself, but for now he was content.

O-O-O

Snow blanketed the trees, coating needles and branches alike. The air was still, no wind to chill or sting, and the sun was shining. It was cold, but the still, tolerable kind of cold Toothless was used to.

Off in the distance, where the trees thinned out behind him, Eret's crew was restocking their water supplies from a frozen river, taking full advantage of Von's fire. Einn and Maour would be there too, and Ruffnut was off doing who knew what.

All behind him, for the moment. He would return to the ship in a little while, but for the moment he had a more important task. Keeping an eye on the enraptured grey Fury currently clawing her way up a tree.

Grey had her claws deep in the bark of the tree, dragging large furrows every time she pulled herself free and claimed a new hold in the bark. Melted snow ran in little streams down her back as she knocked little puffs of white stuff free of weighed-down clumps of needles, the snow quickly melting on her warm body.

If she fell he would put himself under her to cushion the fall, but he didn't think she was going to fall. The tree was thick and its branches created an impassable obstacle only a little higher than she was now, three winglengths above the ground.

'I am… not bad at this…' Grey called down to him.

'You're doing great!' he told her. The unhealthy thinness had not left her form yet, but she was much more energetic now, and even back in the ice nest she probably would have been able to climb a tree if necessary. The outer layer of bark was liable to peel off under any amount of weight, but the solid wood beneath was perfect for claws to sink into and wouldn't yield unless the entire tree did. Nothing like the slick walls of ice that imprisoned them there.

Grey stopped as she came across the first branch large enough to hold her weight. Toothless watched as she painstakingly crept over to it and crawled out, gradually shifting her weight from the main trunk to the sturdy offshoot.

'There are many of these all around your home?' she asked.

'Ten times more than here, and much closer together.' He was reminded of playing with Fora and Vern, of watching them climb the Isle's many trees… He missed them. It was good that the ship was taking them home, else the temptation to fly there with Maour and leave everything else behind would have been overwhelming.

He still could fly back, or someone else could. He and Von had discussed it. Their parents were probably going sick with worry and the sooner word was brought to them that all was well, the better. Only the bitterly cold and frequent snowstorms made such a journey perilous, and at some point they would be close enough to home that even a bad storm couldn't hinder a fast flight back.

It would probably be Von who went when that happened. She could fly unburdened, probably faster and further now than back before this whole ordeal. Carrying Maour and Ruffnut around at her fastest speeds had given her a wiry leanness that he doubted he could match until he was fully recovered.

'I can see the sail from here!' Grey announced as she leaned forward. One paw went a bit too far forward, bending the thinning branch down, and she hastily pulled back. 'That is it, right? A sail?'

'A big wing sticking up from a ship is a sail, yes,' he confirmed.

'Good.' No labored punchline followed. Just a satisfied purr he could hear despite the distance between them.

Her habit of cracking jokes had died a quiet death since they left the ice nest. The change was so fast and complete that some days it seemed that she was missing an integral part of herself. Silences often produced gaps in the conversations she held with others, where it looked as if she was going to speak but never did. Like she was holding herself back… Or reminding herself that she didn't want to make jokes anymore.

She didn't mix well with Ruffnut and based on that probably wouldn't get along with the Myrkurs in general; their caustic ways of existing would rub her thin skin in exactly the wrong ways.

Or maybe with a little exposure to the whole family she would decide that humor wasn't just a coping mechanism. He had no idea, and he knew her better than anyone currently in her life. Though that wasn't saying much.

She was trying to remake herself, and it felt wrong to have an opinion on how she was going about it. So long as it seemed to be working, that was.

He really needed to talk to Shadow and Cloey. They were certain to have some insight on the subject of helping someone grow up without being overbearing.

'Huh,' he murmured to himself. It had just hit him that he was going to be asking his parents for advice on raising a fledgling, more or less. Grey wasn't a fledgling, and she wasn't his responsibility… But she sort of was, at the same time. 'Well, that's going to be hard to explain.'

'What?' Grey called down to him. 'Go out further?'

'I didn't say that!' Toothless objected, his attention drawn to how she had been subtly creeping out toward the thin end of the branch, where it split off into many clusters of pine needles. Her nostrils were twitching and she was leaning in to sniff them.

She inhaled deeply, and a few needles tickled her nose. Her face scrunched up. Toothless knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few heartbeats and positioned himself accordingly.

Grey sneezed, a small bolt of fire incinerating the needles, twigs, branches, and everything else directly in front of her face. Her claws dug into the branch she was standing on, but she rocked back and something cracked under her.

'No!' she barked, letting go with both front paws and jumping right for him.

'Wait–' he exclaimed in the heartbeat he had between her jumping and her hitting him. He tumbled with her, rolling them both to a stop on the carpet of pine needles that covered the ground, shielding her weak skin as best he could. She ended up on top of him, though she just as quickly jumped off once they came to a stop.

'I didn't hurt you, did I?' she whined.

'No?' he said tentatively, waving his paws and tail around from where he lay on his back. 'I'm fine. I was ready to catch you… Not so ready for you to jump on me… Not hurt, though.' Just a bit winded and bruised. 'Why did you jump?' He had been ready to catch her falling, not her leaping and hitting him at an angle.

'I was going to fall,' she said simply.

'Right.' Not the worst instinct… Not the best, either. 'Just… be sure to aim for soft landings.' He laboriously rolled over.

'Sorry,' she quietly huffed.

'Nothing to be sorry for.' He gave her a reassuring chuff. Now was not the time for her to linger on a perceived mistake. 'Let's see how fast you can run! Follow me.'

He set off at an easy trot. The soft crunch of paws in paw-deep pine needles and snow told him she was right there behind him. Active, inquisitive…

He really missed Fora and Vern. She would get along well with them. Maybe they could teach her more about growing up than he could. She wasn't a fledgling, he wasn't going to make the mistake of being condescending to her, but her time as a fledgling had been stolen from her. It was only right that she was taking it back now.

O-O-O

Many cold days and dark nights later, the Isle of Night rose in the distance, a dark green blot against gray seas and gray skies. Von flapped her tired wings with renewed vigor, making for her sorely missed home. There were no dragons frequenting the skies, but it was the middle of the day and she suspected many were out searching, even now, months after their disappearance.

She roared to announce her presence to all around as she swooped in over the trees. Still, there was no sign of anyone around.

For a moment terror gripped her, seizing her heart and squeezing it tightly. They had been gone so long, what if something else had happened? What if the Isle had been attacked, by humans or Skrill or something else entirely? What if–

A dark shape flew into view in the distance, diving down from the low-hanging clouds and making for her. At the same time, one full-bodied roar and two much smaller barks echoed from the trees below, near the entrance to the Svartur caves. She knew those roars and those adorable barks, and they knew her.

She threw caution to the wind and crashed down into the forest, breaking branches and taking whipping leaves to the face in her hurry to see them sooner. Another back and forth of roaring gave her a direction, and then she was running.

Vern was perched atop a small boulder, gripping it with all four paws and tail to hold himself steady as he shrieked his little heart out. Fora was behind him, yowling with equal vigor. Cloey –

Cloey was there, striding forward and pouncing on her. 'Where were you?' she demanded. 'Are you hurt, are Kappi and Maour hurt? Do you need help or rescuing? Those Nadders told us there were Skrill taking two of you away, we're all ready to hunt them down if you know where to go.' Her teeth were out and though she was obviously relieved there was so much worry and anger there too.

'We were in danger but are not now and nobody you care about is hurt,' she blurted out, trying to assuage her mother's fears all at once. The frantic licking wetting the back of her neck was not exactly reassuring in that regard. 'They are on a ship a night's flight out, I would have come sooner to tell you if it was not for the storms keeping us all grounded up until now.' The weather had been awful in that regard, and for obvious reasons she just wasn't willing to fly through, over, or anywhere near a thunderstorm now.

Cloey sighed heavily, the hot air gusting down Von's back. 'Oh, that's such a relief,' she said. 'What happened?'

It occurred to Von that her mother didn't yet know just how much danger they had all been in, beyond that there had been Skrill involved. She would find out soon, but… maybe not just yet. 'We can explain better when we're all back. The ship should get here sometime tomorrow afternoon, but if you want–'

'I am flying out to it, and Skuggi will too the moment he gets back from his patrol,' Cloey interrupted, pulling away from her to look back at her younger children. 'Vern, Fora, we are going on a long flight!'

O-O-O

The deck of Eret's ship was shortly crowded with Night Furies and the occasional human. Eret and his crew had retreated below in the face of so many new, lethal dragons, completely missing the actual emotion behind the reunion.

Einfari watched from above as several different families were reunited all at once. The Svarturs were a big pile of entangled limbs, Maour, Toothless, and Von at the bottom of the pile and Vern and Fora jumping and squeaking on top. Meanwhile, Ruffnut was dodging swipes from both Boom and Blast, crowing something about telling the tales of her exploits. Tuffnut jumped down from Blast's back, his face solemn. Ruffnut said something flippant, but was cut off when he embraced her.

Einfari winced and waited for the trick, and as best she could tell Ruffnut did too, but there was no trick coming. Blast and Boom came in close for another surprisingly serious group hug, completely bereft of the usual Myrkur shenanigans.

Off to one side, by the railing, two new Night Furies were enduring Eldurhjarta's close examination. Einn – for it could only be him there, his crooked wings noticeably more so now – seemed relaxed, while the new, odd grey female was much more tense.

Einfari was tempted to fly down and speak to the grey one, if only to understand why she was like that, but there was little room on the deck for another Night Fury to land, especially now that the Svarturs were reluctantly pulling apart and spreading out.

It was all very heartwarming, and she was going to have to go down and hear what was certain to be the first of many explanations for their absence, but she was waiting for something first. The sun had only set a few moments ago…

The other side of her link stirred, Heather tapping into her hearing first. Einfari reached out in turn and heard the rustle of wind in a distant forest. 'Heather?'

"They're back?" Heather asked, though she could see through Einfari's own eyes that such was the case.

'Yes. You and my brother?' They were out together specifically because they were not linked. Togi had not taken the disappearance well at all, and no Nótt was allowed to leave the Isle without a link to someone remaining, now. Maybe that rule would be relaxed soon.

'Two nights, maybe four if the weather worsens,' she heard on Heather's side.

"Soon enough," Heather confirmed. "No telling when Fishlegs and Berg will return, though. They don't have any way of knowing the search is over." She had a right to sound slightly smug about that; the other families had failed to follow the lead of the Nótts when it came to safety while searching, and now the Eldurs were stuck dealing with the consequences.

'Let them look, they're making good impressions all over the place,' Einfari snorted. 'If the tales of 'Thor Bonecrusher' and his gods-given companion are any indication, that is. Do you know Berg told me they were investigating some sort of runic circle on a mountaintop before they left last time?'

"Let the Eldurs search as the Eldurs search," Heather said absently. "Maybe they found something unrelated. Fly down and get a good look at Maour for me, would you?"

'Sure.' She dove down, abandoning her easy circle above the ship, and dropped into an open space right behind the grey female, who yelped at the sudden noise. 'Sorry. Maour!'

"Einfari!" the man himself called out, disentangling himself from a fledgling tail and turning around. "And Heather?"

'She'll be back soon,' Einfari relayed. 'She was out searching.'

Maour frowned, his eyes downcast. "Sorry for all the worry," he apologized. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," Heather said. "I'll be back soon." Einfari conveyed the message.

Behind her, Eldurhjarta murmured something to the grey dragon. The grey dragon yelped again, her voice curiously high-pitched and indicating that she was much younger than Einfari would have guessed. 'No,' the grey dragon said, 'I did not sleep with a male with a fungal infection! That's not why I look this way!'

Toothless' head swiveled around so fast Einfari was surprised he didn't hurt something. 'Eldurhjarta!' he barked.

Einfari snorted and turned around, quickly using a wing to pry her way in between the grey female and Eldurhjarta. 'Has your caveside manner gotten worse recently?' she asked Eldurhjarta. 'If you asked me about male fungus I would make you eat your own scales.'

'That is because you are all too easily offended by perfectly normal diagnostic questions,' Eldurhjarta grumbled. 'I will leave it alone for now. What of your diet?'

'Fish,' the grey female deadpanned.

'I do not believe you ate a Skrill's tail and learned to throw lightning!' Boom yelped from the other side of the deck. 'And I do not believe you drugged a Skrill and got him to spill his secrets, either! Tell the truth!'

Einfari chose that moment to throw herself back up into the air and escape the rapidly loudening madness below. The lost ones were back, with a new friend. And a few new human allies, though if she had interpreted Von's explanation on the flight over correctly, they would need some coaxing to actually be allies instead of surprisingly knowledgeable dragon trappers going forward.

The important thing was that they were home.

Author's Note : And thus ends  Living Freely . This story was a challenge, but one I'm mostly happy with in the end, despite its flaws. The same could well be said of this series, as this may be the last story.

I had (and still have) very, very vague plans for two, possibly three more books (two main and one side-story), but they are 'plans' in the sense of existing as one-sentence concepts. No full-on plots, no entirely written (and entirely flawed) first drafts, not even a paragraph of actual writing to their name. This does not a new book make, much less one that will immediately follow this story. As to whether I'm even going to write anything more in this universe…

I'm not saying no, but I'm certainly not saying yes, either. To the reader either option will look the same for a long while, as I definitely want to write other things first, and then it'll be many months or years before I can go from a sentence inspiration to another full book, and I am  not  posting anything until said hypothetical book is done and fully beta-read. I've twice now made the mistake of committing to a story while it's unfinished or flawed to the point of needing to be redone midway through, and while it's  doable , it is in no way  ideal .

So whether or not I continue this series, it will be a long while before anyone else sees the fruits of my efforts. If a new book is ever completed and soon to begin posting, I will drop a 'teaser' addition to this story. That will go in the hypothetical chapter after this one, so to keep an eye on the future just 'follow' this story, if you haven't already.

Thank you to all my readers who enjoyed this series! (And to FizzleMcSchnizzle, who beta-reads this series and put up with my often hectic schedule and uncomfortably late chapter drops. It has been and continues to be a pleasure working with you.)