Hiccup broke the ocean's surface with a gasp. A large, heavily-scarred barrel floated merrily nearby, and the viking latched onto it with scrabbling fingers. The sea was cold and the air colder, making Hiccup's small frame shake involuntarily. The icy wind numbed his fingers, and he had to keep re-adjusting his grip on the barrel, lest he sink down into the less-than-inviting waters below. Hiccup sighed heavily and further secured his grip; he had seen quite enough water for today, thank you very much.

Taking a few seconds to steady his breathing and rest his aching limbs, he finally looked up to take stock of the situation; it had doubtless changed a lot since he had last had a look. Shaking his head to move his sodden hair from his eyes, he saw one large ship, looming just a few strokes away. The sides of it had deep cuts and scorch marks, clearly having seen battle, but it remained floating nonetheless. The sounds of battle, however, had since died away, although Hiccup could clearly hear the crackling of flames burning somewhere on deck. Maneuvering to one side of the ship, Hiccup saw nothing else but the sea, churning and swirling in its endless rhythm. The others had gone, then.

Crack! Hiccup started, surprised, and then looked up as a splintering sound shattered the frigid air. A wooden groan, and then a defeated thud. The ship's mast lay across the deck, its top jutting out over the side, ripped and worn sails trailing listlessly into the sea. After a second's hesitation, the viking relinquished his hold on the barrel and streaked instead for the rough canvas of the sails. Latching on, he began to pull himself slowly up onto the fallen mast. After a minute's careful effort, he heaved himself over it, stomach lurching as the mast tilted precariously with the added weight. But it stilled in a moment, and Hiccup silently thanked the gods that he had not been forced to take yet another wonderful swim.

The sound of the fire was louder now, and soon other sounds were audible, too. Intermittent sounds of destruction floated over to him on the icy breeze - cracks, thuds, and crashes echoing in the stillness. What was going on? He assumed that everyone had left along with the other ships, but it sure didn't sound like the remaining vessel was empty. Cautiously, Hiccup edged his way across the mast, deciding to focus on getting on board first. Once he was safely across - and only then - he would have a look at whatever was happening on deck. So determined, he made his careful way across, and then dropped soundlessly onto the ship's wooden deck. Ducking behind a nearby pile of rope, he peered over the top of it to finally figure out what was going on.

Everything on deck, it turned out, had been utterly and mercilessly destroyed. All areas of the deck had deep scars in the wood, like someone had taken an axe to it over and over. Chunks of wood had been separated from the railing and splintered into tiny pieces. Any rope, canvas, or other material about had been ripped, torn, shredded, cut, and otherwise obliterated. A small fire raged unchecked in one corner of the deck, slowly eating away at the already-ruined ship. Debris was scattered everywhere, smoke filled the air and tinged the world with gray, and all in all, the entire ship looked like it had sailed through a tornado... if tornadoes consisted of lethal metal weapons instead of water. Hiccup was vaguely surprised that the ship was even still afloat.

But what held his attention the most was the lone figure that he could glimpse amidst the smoke, standing in the middle of all the destruction. It was a very familiar figure, with long blonde hair tied in a neat braid, and an axe hanging loosely in one hand. She was facing the opposite direction, but even from the back, Hiccup could see her defeated posture - the slump in her normally confident stance. Her shoulders shook ever so slightly, and he wondered if she was breathing heavily, or was just really cold, or... No, it couldn't be. Was she crying? Bewildered and fearful and worried all at once, Hiccup moved from his hiding place, stumbled forward several steps.

"...Astrid?" he called, hesitantly, not bothering to hide his confusion. Immediately, the viking in question stilled, posture straightening in surprise, movements stopping altogether. And then she whirled to face him, a look of utter shock painted clearly across her face. Her features were smudged in gray, likely from the smoke, but she didn't look hurt - other than the tear tracks Hiccup could now clearly see. For a few seconds, Astrid did nothing but stare, and it made Hiccup uncomfortable. He shifted clumsily, unable to hold her intense gaze. "Um... Astrid?" he repeated.

A huff of air blew out of her, like a sob or a laugh or maybe something in between the two, and her axe slipped out of her grip, embedding itself itself into the previously-ruined wooden planks below. And then she ran at him. Before Hiccup could so much as blink, she was there, her arms around him, holding him close, and... Was she laughing now? Grinning madly, Astrid moved back and looked Hiccup over, blue eyes scanning every inch of him in careful scrutiny. She seemed to have no words, and only stood there, radiating happiness. Her hands moved to her mouth and she laughed again, eyes brimming with unshed tears, and Hiccup could not have been more confused.

"What...?" he began to ask, but Astrid cut him off.

"You're freezing," she noted concernedly, and she took him by the hand and led him across the deck, to the area where the fire was blazing cheerily. The warmth it gave off felt wonderful, and Hiccup found himself edging closer to it almost without thought. Then he sat down before it, taking a moment to rest himself and gain some body heat back. Astrid joined him, watching him carefully, and still radiating the same inexplicable happiness. Deciding he had better start the conversation if he was going to get any answers at all, Hiccup looked pointedly around at the near-ridiculous level of destruction the ship had undergone.

"So, um... are you gonna tell me what happened here?" he asked curiously. Astrid followed his gaze, scanned the aftermath of the destruction, and then turned back to him, looking sheepish.

"I thought they'd killed you. I lost my temper."

"Lost your...?" Hiccup repeated, trailing off as he took in the destruction around him with new eyes. "You did all this?" he asked incredulously. A short distance away, a loud crack told him that the mast had finally separated completely from the rest of the ship. Together, they watched it tilt off of the deck, and then slip with a splash into the waters below.

"Erm... yeah," Astrid admitted, smiling shyly. "I was really upset," she justified.

"How did you even...?" Hiccup began, but then he stopped himself. "You know what?" he decided. "Never mind. I don't want to know." And then the first part of Astrid's explanation suddenly caught up with him. I thought they'd killed you. "Wait a minute. You thought I was dead?"

Astrid sighed and nodded sadly, eyes beginning to brim with tears once more. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and then she began to explain...

...

Her opponent's sword went skittering across the deck with the impact of her forceful blow, and with one powerful kick, she sent him neatly over the ship's railing and into the churning sea. She turned to continue the fight, and that was precisely when she saw him.

Hiccup. Sprawled unceremoniously across the deck, supported somewhat by the ship's edge. His eyes, so usually filled with the spark of intelligence, were dull, unfocused. In fact, he seemed to be having trouble keeping them open. He was looking at her, right in her direction, but there was no recognition in his eyes. Like she wasn't even there. Or maybe he wasn't. It chilled Astrid to the core, but there was something far more terrifying about his appearance. Arterial red drenched the front of his shirt. All previous color had been lost beneath the glaring red that seemed to be the only color Astrid was capable of seeing. For what felt like an eternity, she could do nothing but stare.

And then arms were around her - strong, unyielding arms, trapping her from behind. She shouted, furious, still seeing nothing but a bright vermillion. She struggled and squirmed, but the nameless dragon hunter had her in a vice-like hold; she was stuck, at least for now. Quieting down, she tried not to think about the heart-wrenching image of Hiccup in front of her, and instead attempted to pay attention as Ryker walked over to him, followed closely by Dagur, who for once made no obnoxious comments towards Hiccup. In fact, he seemed a little... disappointed?

With a growl, Ryker strode up to Hiccup's still form and knelt down, studying him. Hiccup was blinking rapidly now, brow furrowed, like he was trying to regain his awareness. But he wasn't very successful, and instead remained staring confusedly at the offending scarlet that likely encompassed his vision as much as it did Astrid's. Taking in his opponent's state, Ryker sighed a long-suffering sigh, and then stood up, moving to grab a nearby bola. In a second, he returned, knelt, and then began methodically tying the heavy weight to Hiccup's foot. Hiccup, for his part, moved sluggishly away, but could bring himself to do nothing more than that.

"He's more use to us alive," Dagur said then, protesting only half-heartedly. He seemed to know where Ryker was going with this, but Astrid was lost, her mind refusing to cooperate with her.

"He's dead already," Ryker replied, shaking his head, and Dagur did not disagree. But he definitely looked disappointed now, like he had lost a playmate, or perhaps a cherished adversary. Lost. Astrid wanted to reject the idea; Hiccup wasn't lost. But Ryker's words repeated mercilessly in her head.

He's dead already.

Finished tying, Ryker stood up, gathering Hiccup uncaringly into his arms, and at that precise moment, Astrid knew what he would do.

"No!" she shouted fiercely, breaking free of the dragon hunter behind her and rushing forward. But it was too late. Even as she ran, Ryker let go - dropped Hiccup abruptly over the side, where he would doubtless sink unstoppably into the depths, weighed down by the bola and unable to think clearly as a result of his already grievous injuries.

Astrid leapt, trying to follow him into the water, wanting - needing - to do something, anything. But Ryker grabbed her before she could leave the ship, tossing her back to the dragon hunter who had held her before. And then he laughed maliciously; he was actually enjoying this.

"Don't fret, girl," he grinned. "He's out of his misery now."

And still, Astrid could see nothing but a grisly, ghastly red.

...

Letting out a shaky breath, Astrid finished her story, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. Her blue eyes were glassy and far away, and Hiccup frowned.

"Astrid, I... I'm really sorry you had to go through that," he said finally. "I mean, I couldn't even imagine-" But he broke off suddenly as he did try to imagine what it would be like, if he had been in her place, and she in his. A sizable lump formed immediately in his throat, and he swallowed, unable to speak. Best not to think of that now, he decided. Still wanting to provide some form of comfort, though, he reached over and draped his arm silently around her shoulders. But his attempt received the wrong kind of response, and Astrid looked over at him, worry clouding her eyes once more.

"You're still cold," she told him, moving closer and then wrapping her arms around him, trying to provide some warmth.

"It's fine, Astrid, really," Hiccup told her with a small smile. "I'm fine."

"Are you really?" she asked doubtfully, examining him closely once more, grimacing at the blood stains that the ocean had not washed fully away. She met his gaze, fearful and worried and uncertain. "How are you alive?" As she spoke, she moved a hand over to his chest, lightly touching the bloodstained areas, searching tentatively for an injury.

"Astrid." Hiccup gently grabbed her hand, moved it away. She looked back up at him. "It's not mine."

...

The dragon hunter roared, furious, and then swung, the movement wild and powerful. Instinctively, Hiccup moved back, and then... stumbled. In slow motion, Hiccup watched his opponent's axe swing with deadly force in his direction, and then realized that, in an odd twist of fate, his stumbling had actually saved him. The swing that would have taken his head off instead missed him by inches, but that was not all. Hiccup's sword, held strangely aloft due to his loss of balance, happened to end up in precisely the right place. Or precisely the wrong place, for the dragon hunter.

The follow-through of the missed swing brought the dragon hunter's arm perfectly in contact with Hiccup's sword. The sharpened edge bit cleanly and deeply into the hunter's arm, and in the next moment, everything was red. Some small corner of Hiccup's mind registered that one of the hunter's arteries must have been severed. The hunter screamed, his blood sprayed, and for a moment, Hiccup could do nothing but stare, horrified. A kind of warmth began to spread in his chest, and looking down, he realized that he was absolutely drenched in the man's blood, still hot, but rapidly cooling in the chilling air. Disgusted, Hiccup took several quick steps backwards as the man ran off, paying more attention to the blood on his front than the ground beneath his feet. And just like clockwork, the back of his knees connected with something, and Hiccup had only the smallest of moments to curse his clumsiness before he felt the sadly familiar sensation of falling backwards, and then a sharp, piercing pain as the back of his head slammed against something hard.

After that, things were mostly a blur. A small part of him recognized that he was in the middle of a fight; he shouldn't be laying there; get up, get up! But moving at all seemed to require a tremendous amount of energy and focus that the dragon rider simply couldn't muster up. He peeled his eyes open and tried to keep them that way, but the world swam. There was nothing but a swirl of colors, an endless barrage of moving shapes that had no meaning or purpose or import. Dimly, he became aware of a hulking figure taking up most of his vision, and the remnants of his working brain told him to get away. Dangerous. This was somebody dangerous. But his head was pounding in tune to his beating heart, and though he tried, his vision was refusing to clear. His eyes slipped closed again of their own will, and then...

Ice. A painful blast of arctic cold went through him like an electric shock, snapping him instantly back to his senses. He realized immediately that he was in water, and that he was sinking - too fast, much too fast. In the next instant, he became aware of the weight dragging him steadily downward - the bola tied firmly around his foot. And in the instant after that, Hiccup grabbed the sharpened dagger from its place in his clothes, and cut the bola's rope in one careful swipe. And with his remaining strength, he kicked for the surface, and emerged from the ocean just as the blackness began to claim the edges of his vision. Treading water, Hiccup took in grateful gasps of air, steadying himself and attempting to get his bearings. The cold was beginning to sting, his limbs were starting to ache, and the wound on the back of his head was very clearly making itself known. But Hiccup stubbornly ignored all these things, and focused instead on his surroundings. He had emerged right next to the boat he had previously been aboard, and he streaked to its side, tingling fingers clawing at the little grooves in the side. Any kind of hold was good enough for him - for now, at least. Resting his head wearily against the ship's side, feeling the waves move him gently, he stilled himself, and began to listen. He needed to know what was happening.

"...over the edge," a voice Hiccup recognized as Ryker's was saying. Immediately following his words, a little splash reached Hiccup's ears, and he turned in time to see a small metal object sinking quickly beneath the waves. The dragon rider hesitated for only a second, and then dived. Maybe the little object was nothing. But then again, maybe it was everything. After a few moments, his numbing fingers enclosed around the object, and he slipped it securely into his pocket without checking what it was. There would be time for that later. Right now, he needed to find out what was happening with Astrid, Toothless, and Stormfly.

"...leaving," Ryker said as Hiccup broke the surface once more, clinging again to the planking on the side of the ship. A few minutes passed in which Hiccup could hear a lot of movement; people and objects changing ships and crossing back and forth. The noise drowned out a lot of other sounds, and although Hiccup could faintly hear the sound of Ryker's voice, he couldn't make out any of the words. At least, not until Ryker shouted suddenly above the din, the authority in his voice making his command known.

"Check the water," Ryker ordered. "Make sure he sank." Footsteps approached the edge of the boat, and in a second, Hiccup realized that Ryker was probably talking about him. Taking a deep breath and ignoring his mounting annoyance with the ocean today, Hiccup grit his teeth and dived yet again, heading for the bottom of the boat; he would definitely be safely hidden there. So he held on to the ship's keel and waited, praying that the dragon hunters would be finished looking by the time he needed to come up for air.

Finally, when he could take it no longer, Hiccup swam to the end of the boat, and resurfaced with a gasp. Everything was quiet now, and he hoped that meant that they had gone. A heavily-scarred wooden barrel floated merrily nearby, and the viking latched onto it gratefully. Maybe things were finally looking up.

...

Hiccup, after only a moment's consideration, decided rather definitively that he had never seen Astrid look so relieved. She laughed then, a little watery laugh that made Hiccup chuckle lightly, too.

"I can't believe your stumble saved you from certain death," she laughed, and she smiled - the first genuine smile Hiccup had seen since the fighting broke out. "I never thought I'd say this, but - thank the gods for your clumsiness!"

"Never thought I'd hear that, either," Hiccup admitted, smiling despite their situation. But the smile faded slowly as he remembered just how awful their current predicament was.

"Toothless," he began. "Stormfly. The hunters took them?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Astrid said nothing, and Hiccup knew that meant yes. Hiccup sighed heavily, worry and guilt crumpling his posture until he was slumped in defeat. But then Astrid's hand was on his face, gently guiding his head until he was forced to look at her. And then he saw it - Astrid was grinning. Not just any grin, either. The "I-have-really-good-news-and-you're-going-to-be-so-excited-when-I-tell-you" type of grin. Like that, Hiccup was sitting bolt upright, watching her intently. He was more than ready for good news.

"They're here," Astrid told him.

"What!" Hiccup exclaimed, springing instantaneously to his feet. But his sudden movement costed him, and without warning, the world faded to a disconcerting grayish-black. The only sound was the ringing in his ears, and abruptly, he was too light, like nothing tethered him to the earth, like there was no such thing as balance or gravity or strength. There was only nothingness, darkness, obscurity-

"Hiccup?" Astrid's frantic voice cut suddenly through Hiccup's consciousness, and like that, the world began to fade back in. The darkness in his vision lightened until a familiar shape took form, and in a few rapid blinks, Astrid's worried face swam into focus. The ringing in his ears subsided, and the sounds of the world returned - Astrid's quick breaths, the gentle crashing of the waves, the pulsing of his heart, and the quiet creaking of the wood beneath their feet as their weight shifted in time with the oscillating ocean below. Gravity returned, and Hiccup realized that he was leaning heavily into Astrid, who was supporting him, taking most of his weight. Carefully, he righted himself and met eyes with Astrid, who was looking relieved at his recovery.

"Thanks," he said, reaching a hand up to his pounding head and holding it gingerly. "I guess I stood up too fast."

"You stood up way too fast," Astrid agreed, not unkindly. "Take it easy."

"Yeah," he muttered. He remained in the same spot for a few moments, making sure his balance was fully intact, and Astrid left a hand at his elbow, just in case. He didn't protest. "Wait a minute," he said, backtracking swiftly. "You said Toothless and Stormfly are here? Here on this ship?"

"Below deck," Astrid confirmed, smiling. But then her smile faded a little, and Hiccup's heart leapt into his throat.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Well, they're caged up in those dragon cages," she told him. "And Ryker... oh, yeah, I guess I should get you up to speed. Ryker and Dagur put the dragons below deck, and left me down there, too. And they took off on the other ships in their fleet. They left this one because it's hardly seaworthy anymore. Anyway, they left because... well, they meant to leave us to die. Ryker figured the dragons were worth just as much dead as they were alive, and I wasn't much use to them, either. But they didn't even bother to take us; they said they would load up some other cargo, and then come back for us in a week or two. They could just take the dragons' bodies with them, and leave mine. Ryker said that dead dragons were much less hassle." Astrid frowned, blew out a breath in obvious anger. "I really hate him, you know."

"I know," Hiccup supplied darkly. "I do, too. Even more now."

"And there was a key," Astrid continued, placing emphasis on the word 'was'. "But Ryker waved it in front of my face and then threw it over the side," she growled. "It's lost. We're going to have to figure out some other way to get those cages open, otherwise we'll die here."

"Right," Hiccup replied automatically, but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes widened in a sudden revelation, and he slipped a hand into his pocket and laughed.

"What?" Astrid asked immediately. "What's funny?"

"You said Ryker threw the key over the side?"

"Yeah, so?" Astrid asked curiously. Hiccup only grinned wider, and Astrid huffed, impatient but hopeful nonetheless. "Well?"

"You know what else Ryker threw over the side?" he asked. And just as Astrid's eyes began to widen in understanding, Hiccup pulled the slender metallic object from his pocket - the one he had dived after just a short while ago. The key to the dragons' cages.

Letting out a squeal of unrestrained excitement, Astrid grabbed the key from him and then pulled him close, kissing him full on the lips. He relaxed into it, and was left smiling giddily as Astrid stepped back.

"What, no punch?" he teased, sort of used to the hit-and-kiss routine Astrid usually gave him. But Astrid only smiled back, a little sadly this time.

"Not today," she said. "I think you're injured enough." Hiccup laughed quietly.

"I guess you're right," he agreed, and he started down the steps to the lower deck, where their dragons would be waiting. She went with him, their steps in perfect synchrony.

"Besides," she added. "If I punched you while you were hurt like this, Toothless would kill me."

…

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" Ryker grumbled, and he vaulted himself easily onto the ruined ship. He crossed the deck, heading immediately for the cargo hold below, but he frowned. He didn't remember the ship being this ruined when they left last week. Angrily, he stomped down the stairs, Dagur right on his heels, whistling an annoyingly cheerful tune.

"Shut up," Ryker snapped at him, continuing down the cargo hold and marching purposefully to the cells where the bodies of the night fury, the deadly nadder, and the viking girl would be. But when he got there, he stopped short, stunned speechless. Dagur only laughed.

The cell door had been long since broken open, but even worse, the dragon cages were hanging open, too. The place was completely deserted. Gone. They were all gone. Enraged, Ryker stomped inside the cell and examined the dragon cages closer. They hadn't even been broken. And then something glinted up at him from the floor, catching his attention out of the corner of his eye. Bending down, he picked it up, and simply stared. It was the key. The key.

"I threw this," he began dangerously, "into the ocean! The. Ocean." But again, Dagur only laughed, and Ryker could feel his blood boiling. "These idiot kids are the worst nuisance in the history of the world," he fumed, striding back out of the cell and slamming the door shut with all the force he could muster. It banged shut with a clang, the sound reverberating through the undeniably empty ship.

"Ryker," Dagur said pointedly. Infuriated, Ryker threw the offending key far away, listened to it smack the opposite wall. And then he grudgingly dug his hand into his pocket, and pulled out an expensive golden coin. He flicked it spitefully in Dagur's direction. The coin sailed, glinting, through the air, and Dagur caught it easily, with a smug smirk that Ryker wished he would never have to see again.

"I told you so," Dagur proclaimed happily, pocketing the money. And then he turned and started back toward the steps, leaving Ryker to sulk in his embarrassment and outrage.

"And next time," he advised, stopping at the foot of the steps, "make sure he's actually dead."