It was raining and cold as the two riders picked their way through the boulders and stones of the mountains. The terrain was uneven and a chill wind was howling down from the north. Hiccup swiped the sodden auburn hair from his eyes and blinked the rain from his eyes, staring ahead miserably. Behind him, Astrid was walking Stormfly after him, though she was drier thanks to his subterfuge.

"How do you fancy becoming a knight?"

Astrid had stared at him, as if he had gone crazy and scowled.

"What are you talking about?" she snapped. "I look nothing like a knight." He sighed.

"You look nothing like one of your father's knights-that I happily concede, Highness," he said, thoughtfully staring at her. "But not all knights hail from a rich court, living in luxury and eating three square meals a day with guaranteed protection. Many knights wander from master to master, seeking employment and selling their swords for the means just to stay alive."

"And you think that I could pass for one of these...peripatetic warriors?" she asked archly, seeing his emerald eyes sparkle. "These...mercenaries?" He nodded, inwardly cringing at the word. It was the antithesis of everything he had been trained to believe and do...but was probably the best he could hope for-if he survived this mess.

"I still have Squire de Tete's armour with me...and I grabbed an Outcast helmet before I left, just in case," he told her. "Um, we could pad you up and put you in the armour. With the cloak and the helmet, you could pass for a female knight." His voice was enthusiastic and his arms were moving, emphasising his points as he proposed his plan. She found her lips curling up at his eager voice and found herself nodding.

"And you?" she asked directly. "I thought you would want to claim the role of knight for yourself..." And she was rewarded by his blush before he dropped his eyes.

"Um...it would be dishonourable for me to impersonate a knight," he mumbled quickly, "and my father would never forgive me for such cheek. He'd probably come back from Valhalla to chew me out in front of you for even suggesting such a thing." She looked at him thoughtfully.

"And yet you had no qualms at impersonating a squire," she pointed out. He sighed.

"I was a squire, Milady," he said defeatedly. "I never deserved to have that taken from me. I never failed any task or shirked any duty. I never disobeyed a single order. And all that happened when my father gave his life for the King was that your father rewarded me for the sacrifice my father made by stealing my life, my friends and my honour from me. So yes, I have a right to wear the squire's uniform."

She stared, a frisson of shame briefly flickering through her chest. What he said was true: as Heir, she had been informed of the King's decision and the reasons for it-but there was never any proof of treason on the part of the Knight Commander, merely a failure to return which probably meant he had given all for his liege. And to penalise his son for that groundless supposition when he had just lost his only close kin was cruel.

Her father had been wrong.

But she couldn't say a word to Hiccup, who was breathing hard, clearly struggling to control his keenly-felt sense of injustice. Instead, she hummed in agreement and pulled the cloak tighter around her body. "So I am a knight and you my squire," she murmured. "Okay-so what am I called, Squire Hic..."

"Squire Henrik," he interrupted. "The female knights I know of all have quite impressive names. Knight Freya?" Astrid shook her head.

"Queen of the Valkyries, who chooses the dead of battle?" Astrid smirked. "I am afraid the Goddess may be offended if I take her name in vain!" She sighed. "And we may need her help later. How about Brunnhilde?"

"Milady, her tale ended very sadly and I would hate for you to end your own life as she did with such an unlucky name," Hiccup replied. Then he smiled. "Howabout Sif? Wife of Thor with hair spun of finest gold by Loki to replace that he stole as a prank?"

"Sound like something the twins would do," she commented then nodded, instinctively tossing her blonde braid over her shoulder. "Knight Sif with her faithful squire Henrik it is."

But night was falling and they were both soaked to the bone-so Hiccup cast around for some shelter-and found a meagre scrape a few hundred yards up the path in the rocky slope that soared up to the peak overhead. There was sleet in the air and he hadn't eaten since morning so he was exhausted, starving and miserable: he led them up and inspected the little cave. There was more room than he had guessed-enough for two bodies and a couple of horses out of the wind-though he doubted they would have a fire since he had little kindling and nothing that could burn for any length of time. But he made his decision and dismounted, aching horribly but knowing they couldn't go any further. He hadn't ridden properly for three years and he thought his legs may seize up. But as he felt them wobble, he saw Astrid wheel round and glare at the poor shelter.

"Sorry-you're stopping?" she demanded, staring at his dripping shape. He had put Thuggery's tunic on over his own patched top, but he had given the cloak and armour to Astrid so he was chilled to the bone and exhausted.

"Night's falling and I don't know these tracks," he told her, his teeth beginning to chatter. "If you can find a better shelter, Milady, I would be delighted to accept your suggestion!" She glared at him.

"Haven't you got a fire?" she snapped and he sighed.

"We've passed so many trees in this rocky mountain pass that my packs are groaning under the weight of wood," he replied sarcastically. "You wouldn't have any, Lady Knight?" She dismounted and walked past him, heading for the most sheltered spot. He watched her wrestle the enclosing Outcast helmet off and pull the cloak tight around her, frowning at her uncomfortable seat.

"Tend the horses!" she ordered, wrapping her arms around her body in an attempt to warm up. Swiping his sodden hair off his face, he grabbed the reins and hauled the horses into the meagre shelter, unsaddling them and casting around.

"Thor, she's got the hang of yelling orders at her squire without any hesitation," he muttered to himself. A few yards above the little outcrop, a couple of small trees and a stunted bush were growing out of the rock face and with a sigh, he scrambled out, then began to clamber slowly up the slippery rock, his foot slipping more than once. Finally, he grabbed the small trees and managed to wrench them from the rock before his hands slipped and he fell. With a groan, he landed in a heap on the rocks by the cave and he lay still for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Astrid asked from the cave and he sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, feeling hot pain in his right arm where he had ripped the cloth and skinned the limb. "Broken my only clothes but yeah, I'm just peachy..." he muttered, getting his breath back and slowly getting up, before dragging his prizes in. He swiftly stripped off the foliage which the horses gratefully set upon while he managed to light the small twigs and a handful of straw he had stolen from the stall. Astrid watched on as he broke down the body of the small trees into logs and put the first two on the fire. Astrid eagerly scooched forward and warmed her hands by the fire, her eyes sparkling in the dancing light. Hiccup sighed and took his place at the other side of the fire, his back to the entrance with Fury standing behind him.

"And no, I can't find any food," the young man sighed, though he checked his saddlebags and found only some very dry jerky and stale-smelling biscuit. Miserably, he offered it to the Princess and she took it, taking a bite before looking at the tall shape, hunched up in the dripping tunic. She broke the jerky in half and handed half back to him.

"I think you need this more than me," she pointed out and he shrugged.

"Thank you, Milady," he murmured. "You should get out of that wet cloak and try to dry it off. And get some sleep. I'll keep watch-with the horses." She stared at him: he looked exhausted.

"I think you need to rest more than I do," she commented.

"Probably, Highness, but someone has to keep an eye out for pursuit," he reminded her, then wearily stripped off Thuggery's sopping tunic to try to dry it by the fire. "We're close to Hunter lands. We should enter them in the morning."

oOo

It had snowed overnight and despite his resolve, Hiccup had finally surrendered to his exhaustion and had fallen asleep in the small hours. Shivering when he woke, a surge of shame at his dereliction of duty shot through him but they were undiscovered and the little fire had dried their clothes and provided just enough warmth to just keep them alive. Astrid was rolled up in her cloak, the fur from his pack and Stormfly's blanket, leaving him with Fury's patched under blanket. He was aching and his legs were so painful he seriously doubted he could walk...but he forced himself to his knees and staggered outside, scrubbing his face with a handful of snow, which woke him up effectively. He shivered, staring across the bleak landscape. Below them, the slope dropped away beyond the narrow track they had ridden along and to the north, the track wound up the flank of the mountain before dropping away into the cluttered rocky valleys that blended into Hunter lands-and more danger. But behind them, the traitors were looking to kidnap Astrid for Drago and kill him. No matter which way he sliced it up, this was their only option.

Sighing, he turned and found a sheltered spot to relieve himself. But as he looked up, he saw a hare, sitting quietly cleaning his face, almost mirroring what Hiccup had just done. But even as he felt a thrill of interest at seeing the wild animal at peace in his natural environment, his painfully empty stomach reminded him that they were out of provisions and his hand snaked to his knife. One hard but lethally accurate throw dispatched the animal cleanly and quickly and only then could Hiccup breathe. His father had trained him in all weapons and again, he silently thanked him for insisting on all those hours of practice. Tidying himself up, he limped over and retrieved the animal, swiftly finding a sheltered rock to sit on as he prepared it and returning to the cave with his prize.

Astrid was still dozing so he filled his waterskin with snow and rested it by the fire to melt while he skewered the hare over the fire. After locating some poor feed for the horses, he searched through the pack, finding what else Thuggory had packed-and locating a compass, basic map, bow, scarf, some bandages and soap. There were a couple of low value coins in the bottom of the pack-enough for a poor meal but not much more and he sighed again: he actually had no money of his own any more. And then it struck him: he did have the 'winnings' he had taken off Snotlout. With a frown he checked his belt pouch and realised Snotlout had short-changed 'Thuggory'-a handful of pennies faced him, not the silver groats or golden kronor that they would have bet-and he sighed: there was enough to last a few days only and that was another problem for the list. He shook himself and turned back to the map, tracing their route and feeling their heart sink. They were far too close to Reaper, the Hunter's stronghold and they would have to be careful. Fortunately, Astrid was willing to take his direction in acting as a knight-so far.

As he watched, her azure eyes fluttered open and she gave a yawn, stretching and shifting onto her back.

"I'll have a warm bath this morning, Jelena," she murmured and then her eyes widened as she realised where she was. She sat up abruptly and saw Hiccup grinning at her. A wave of disappointment and frustration washed over her even as he began to speak.

"I'm afraid we're a little short on hot water, Milady," he said dryly. "A nice face-scrub in the snow is best I can offer you at present. But I am happy to answer to 'Jelena' if you wish..."

"I can see why they were happy to kick you out of the squires, you sarcastic skinny little twerp..." she grumbled, feeling a kink in her back from the uncomfortable bed and missing the flash of hurt that crossed his face. He turned away.

"There's food ready," he said dully, taking the meat off the fire. "I'm certain you can help yourself without me needing to feed you or chew for you." He turned to Fury. "She doesn't need any help in chewing me out." And then he grabbed a hunk of meat and limped to the entrance, vanishing outside and sitting despondently on a rock while she scrambled to the fire and grabbed her portion. She frowned and reran the words in her head before groaning: it had been insensitive and the truth is that he had rescued her and gotten her away. His vigilance had stopped her riding straight into the arms of the traitors and his crazy plan had given her the one thing he would give an arm for...but which he would never dare claim without earning it.

Automatically, she chewed, appreciating hot food and realising he must have caught and prepared then cooked the meat for her while she slept. She could do none of those things, used as she was to being waited on hand and foot. She grimaced: he had been honest with her and she had thrown that back in his face. She sipped from the waterskin and slaked her thirst then rose and saw the horses munching on what meagre vegetation Hiccup had managed to find. He had done everything a squire should-and now she would have to do her part. She finished her food, rebraided her hair and washed her face, then saddled her horse. By the time he returned, she was packed and almost ready to leave.

"Hiccup?" she said as soon as he returned and he looked up, his emerald eyes wary and still hurt. His bruises reminded her of what he had gone through to free her and she felt a further surge of guilt. "I am sorry. I spoke without thinking." He stiffened and then sighed.

"Your Highness is at liberty to say whatever she wishes to a subordinate," he said quietly and she groaned inwardly.

"But I was overly harsh," she tried and he stared at the floor.

"Perhaps you were correct, Highness," he said slowly, shrugging.

"No, Hiccup-I..." she began but he shook his head.

"Your Highness, we should be moving," he said quietly. "You are not safe and we have to get you home." Then he gave a slight bow and turned to finish packing up, then saddled Fury easily. Watching him, she felt an unfamiliar surge of shame. This young man-a boy her age, who she had played with as a younger child-had been ruthlessly discarded by her father and now she had thoughtlessly scoffed at his loss.

I know I'm hot-tempered and ruthless in my determination to be the best I can be and intolerant of fools-but when did I become cruel? Because what we have done to him was cruel and I've just made it worse by my words. Am I like this to the servants? She thought back and groaned-because she did speak to others exactly as she had to Hiccup. And as she was the Princess, they just had to smile and accept it, no matter how hurt they felt...and she wondered how many times she had carelessly insulted then or brushed aside their feelings in favour of her own wishes or cares, frivolous as they were. And she wondered how many people were truly happy to see her? Hiccup, in his almost-rags and desperate circumstances definitely had more people who actually cared for him than she did, even with the loss of his father. At a loss what to say or do, she mounted up and followed him, watching him closely.

Her life depended on the young man riding in front of her-she just had to hope he thought she was still worth the effort.

oOo

"Gobber?"

The blacksmith literally jumped when he heard the voice behind him, hitting the thumb of his real hand with his hammer prosthetic and spilling a stream of extraordinarily descriptive language as he turned to face a skinny shape, all elbows and knees. The boy had scruffy black hair, grey eyes and a slightly cheeky expression topping an underfed body wearing rags.

"Gustav lad...could yer not ha' said something?" Gobber growled but the boy wandered in, eyes wide as he looked round the forge, sweeping over tools, weapons, materials, Gobber's flask of mead and the little painting of Gobber and Stoick as young knights together, carefully hung in the most sheltered corner.

"I just did," he said obviously, walking forward. "Gobber-do you know when Hiccup is coming back?"

The old blacksmith stilled and his face fell, shoulders slumping for a crucial second before looking at the teen.

"I don't know," he admitted. The boy looked up and his face was worried.

"Is what they're saying true?" he asked in a concerned voice as Gobber limped to the chair and sat down, swiping his brow with his sleeve.

"Eh...what're they saying, laddie?" he asked warily and Gustav turned to face him.

"They say he's kidnapped the Princess and is taking her to the Outcasts..." Gustav began but Gobber sighed.

"He went to help out that Thuggory Tete de Carne when he was hung over and completely bed bound," Gobber sighed. "He was asked to dress up in Thuggory's armour and take his place on the hunt with the Princess. But he came in here and told me before he went-to leave Thuggory's sword here and collect his own-and let me know..."

"That's not right," Gustav told him with a frown. "Thuggory was fine! He was out and about all day with Flora, one of the Princess's ladies in waiting..." Gritting his teeth, Gobber banged his fist on the bench.

"I knew that Thuggory was a lying, cheating miserable son of a yak's behind!" he growled. "He promised Hiccup he would help him get his shot at the Tests if he took his place on the Hunt." Gustav stared at him.

"But...but only squires can take the Tests," he protested.

"If he has a sponsor, Hiccup can," Gobber sighed and shook his head, "but we all heard Thuggory blame Hiccup fer impersonating him-when he was the one who asked the laddie! He's a treacherous swine who has used the boy and hung him out tae dry!" The young man looked at the floor for a long moment, hands playing aimlessly with the ragged hem of his tunic.

"Will the King kill Hiccup?" he asked in a small voice. "Coz that wouldn't be fair...he was only helping someone he was asked to..." Gobber pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Yer right, lad," he said determinedly. "So we do everything we can tae be ready. Get yer friends ter listen out for anything that could help our friend. And yer know if yer need anything, yer come tae me? It's what the lad could ha' wanted..." Gustav nodded, his face determined, then leapt to his feet.

"We'll listen out," he promised. "We won't let them get away with hurting Hiccup. He's done so much for all of us...making sure we have food, even when he goes without, making sure we're warm at night, warning off bullies and taking the blame when we mess up. He's just like an older brother to us all-and we're his family now. So we will protect him and stop Thuggory and his lies harming him!" He grinned and raced back towards the kitchen, with Gobber watching him feeling a sudden wave of hopelessness.

"Believe me, lad-Hiccup will need all the help he can get...because the men who want him dead are fighting for their lives as well." He paused. "And he won't even suspect that they're coming for him."

oOo

It was afternoon when they finally made it through the pass and came down to the little village nestled in the small valley. Smoke curled from a score of small houses and the forge and bakery while a full patrol of men milled outside the inn, horses jostling for places at the water trough. The day had been strange and awkward as Hiccup had been very carefully polite and respectful to the Princess-but there was something missing, a barrier that held back his warmth and the gentle kind guidance he had been offering. Now his answers were wary, short and to the point.

Astrid watched him carefully lead her into the village, emerald eyes scanning the muddy street and the small plaza between the inn and the forge. There were a number of horses all in the grey and brown colours of the Hunters and men milling around in uniform of the same colours. They were rounding up men from the village and seemed to be conscripting them while a couple of the younger men were eagerly volunteering, hoping for a better life than that scratching int he poor dirt as a farmer. Casually, Hiccup rode to the inn and dismounted stiffly, then grabbed Stormfly's reins and held her as the Princess dismounted, looking around and laying her hand on the pommel of her sword, as she had seen the knights in her father's court do automatically. She had no problem in walking with confidence, striding into the inn without a sideways glance and Hiccup secured the horses, then followed as she made her way to the bar.

The inn was busy and crowded with the more men of the patrol, occupying half the bar and eating the sloppy brown stew that was on offer. Astrid pulled her helmet off and picked it under her arm, her cool azure eyes sweeping across the unshaven man tending the bar.

"Two meads and a couple of plates of whatever they have," she said in a confident voice but the man looked her up and down and tapped his finger on the sticky bar pointedly.

"Let's see yer coin," he growled. "I've met yer type before, girl. Yer wandering knights are always penniless..." Astrid arched a blonde eyebrow and dug under her tunic, flipping out a silver groat. But as the man snatched for it, she smiled and tapped it, edge-first, on the bar.

"Let's see your mead and food first," she riposted. "I've met your type before. You barkeeps always short-change your customers..." There was an awkward pause before the man gave a yellow, gappy smile.

"I like yer spunk, lass," he said with a tinge more respect. "You'll do." And he sloshed out two small pewter mugs of mead and slammed them down, turning to scoop two plates of the brown stew before accepting the coin. He winked and gave them each a hunk of rock hard bread as well before turning to his next customer.

Quietly, they found a small table in the corner and Hiccup glanced around as Astrid tucked in, eating delicately. The smell of the food wasn't especially appetising but he was starving-yet his back was to the room and he felt vulnerable and exposed. He was already cold and exhausted and hungry but he supposed he should be grateful she had bought him food: many knights wouldn't feed their squires or provided only the most basic rations. And he had to admit he was impressed the way Astrid had handled herself-but he guessed she had experience dealing with awkward Lords and officials from other lands in her role as Heir to Berk so she was able to pretend pretty effectively. He stole a glance at her again, seeing her sip her mead delicately and neatly scoop the stew up using the hunk of bread before urgently falling on his meal and eating quickly. But he inspected Astrid from under his bangs, wondering what he could do now. Every time he had done what was needed to rescue her and get her away, she had fought him, argued with his plans and insulted him and he was beginning to wonder if she would ever treat him better than dirt. And though he knew his very life depended on returning her home safely, he wasn't at all sure he could trust her not to abandon him to whatever fate he was condemned to for his part in the whole mess.

And a sneaky and nagging doubt was treacherously worming into his mind...because he knew Lord Eret was a traitor. The man had been in league with Earl Alvin and was almost certainly an ally of the dark Count Drago-but he was sure to have lied about Astrid's abduction and Hiccup was aware his presence would become known sooner rather than later. Like it or not, he was an obvious scapegoat. He and Thuggory had been pages, squires and friends for ten years...but Gobber had been right: the man had dropped him and ignored him from the moment he was unjustly expelled from the apprentice knights and only resurfaced the day before he conveniently wanted someone to take his place on the Hunt. His father had always told him never to believe in coincidence and Hiccup was starting not to either. He doubted Thuggory would stand up for his supposed friend when he would face expulsion himself for dereliction of duty.

So he needed Astrid's support when he got back to Berk Castle, needed her testimony that he had not been part of the ambush, that he had followed her and rescued her from Alvin...but he couldn't be sure of that either. Maybe he was over-sensitive...but perhaps he should just accept that he was worth nothing, that he should just meekly bow his head and accept what crumbs of largesse he was granted...because he was never going to be allowed to take the tests. He would be a worthless drudge for ever.

"'Ello, my pretty," a rough voice growled and Astrid looked up, a look of irritation crossing her features. She didn't look much like the Princess, her hair in a functional braid and wearing a leather headband-not her rightful crown-but her flawless skin, azure eyes and golden hair enhanced her beautiful features. In the packed inn, she stood out, even dressed as a poor knight.

"Were you talking to me?" she asked pointedly. The man in the Hunters' uniform leered at her, his eyes raking her indecently.

"Not many other babes around here," he told her snarkily as she rose to her feet, her eyes flashing. But Hiccup was quicker, leaping up and glaring at the man, his eyes narrowed with anger. Laughing scornfully at his skinny, dishevelled  shape, the man backed up a step and balled his fists. "This your squire, girl-or your slave?" Hiccup scowled at him, breathing hard as the guard glanced over his shoulder and three of his men walked forward, eyeing the newcomers with a very unfriendly manner. Emerald eyes flicked from stranger to stranger, adjusting his stance as Astrid rose to her feet.

"Henrik is my squire-and I am a knight!" she snapped, drawing her sword in one swift movement, matched by Hiccup a heartbeat later. The smile fell from the Hunter's face and his brows dipped in a scowl, motioning his men to respond and the metallic slide of swords being drawn filled the air tot he scrabbling away from all the other patrons. Even the barkeep vanished down behind his bar.. Astrid and Hiccup faced a dozen armed Hunter soldiers in the warm and crowded inn. Breathing hard, the young man stood between the soldiers and the Princess, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be the knight and he was hopelessly outnumbered. 

And then the door of the inn slammed open and a huge, buff man with a shaven head, cruel dark eyes and manicured stripe of a beard.  His belt buckle was decorated with a skull motif and his powerful fists were planted on his hips.

The soldiers all stood still, eyes and swords still trained on the fugitives.

"What is going on here?" he growled.

A/N: I know Astrid is a little out of character here but she's still thinking like a mildly spoilt princess...at least she realises there may be an issue now!