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❛ ғɪʀᴇ & ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ❜  ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ sɴᴏᴡ, ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ
ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ꒱


❝ I DON'T MISS ❞

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"Hey, Astrid," Dany greeted her best friend. The Hofferson was sitting cross-legged on a boulder that was naturally placed near her house with her axe in her lap, a faint shing ringing out every time she ran the whetstone across the blade. Stormfly rested on her haunches close by, nibbling at an irritating spot underneath her wing. Her best friend hummed in acknowledgement, so she continued: "can. . . I ask you something?"

She glanced away from her weapon to look over at Daenerys. "Sure, what's up?"

"Um. . ." The Targaryen trailed off, playing with her fingers as awkwardness overcame her. "What's a, uh, normal amount of time for someone to hold hands?"

Astrid wasn't quite following. "What do you mean?"

"Well, like this." Dany picked up her friend's hand, removing the whetstone from it to place it in the woman's lap, and then cupped her own hands around Astrid's like Hiccup had done the other day. "And it lasted for, like, ten minutes. I counted."

A soft huff of amusement escaped Astrid's lips. "Of course you did. This was with Hiccup, wasn't it?" she inquired as she put the pieces together. Her blue eyes lit up as she recalled the story the chief's son had recounted to her. "I heard about you punching Snotlout. I'm so jealous that I wasn't there to see it!"

Dany blushed, ducking her head at the blonde's praise. She let go of her best friend's hand, rubbing her own palms against her leathers to get rid of the feeling. While it wasn't that she didn't like touching Astrid, the only person's touch she could truly stand for a long time was (unsurprisingly) Hiccup's. "It's not something I'm particularly proud of— loosing my temper like that, I mean. But I thought Hiccup would be mad and he wasn't, and he held my hand for, like, ever. I didn't mind it, of course, I just wanted to know if it. . . meant something."

A faint smile appeared on the Hofferson's face as she mentally congratulated Hiccup for finally making progress, however small. "Well, I can definitely tell you that ten minutes is much longer than normal hand-holding time." Her voice dropped to become conspiratorial. "Most people don't hold hands for that long unless they're, you know, together-together."

Dany's mind whirled as she tried to figure out if Astrid was implying what she thought she was implying. "But. . . we're not. You know that. He just— he looked at me like I didn't do anything wrong after I hit Snotlout and he stayed with me until I left." Her voice turned guilty, not liking the fact that it felt like she'd abandoned her best friend when all he'd tried to do was help her.

Astrid smiled again, slower this time, and nodded. "That sounds like him. But Dany, Hiccup doesn't say everything out loud. You kind of have to. . . read between the lines with him. And you're not always the best at that." (This was acknowledged completely matter-of-factly; both she and Dany were fully aware of the latter's shortcomings.)

The blonde's lips pressed together, not quite pouting but certainly bordering on it. "I know I'm bad at signals. That's why I'm asking you."

Astrid tilted her head, pretending to think, but in truth she already knew the answer. Regardless of whether Hiccup had told her or not, it had been easy for her to see the way he looked at Dany when he thought no one was watching— how his whole face softened, like he was looking at something precious and breakable and completely mesmerizing. "I think," she began carefully, "that there are some things you have to figure out for yourself. But I also think that sometimes, the way someone holds your hand for ten minutes says more than words ever could."

The Targaryen considered that. "So. . . it's not just because he felt sorry for me hurting my hand?"

Astrid shook her head firmly. "No. Hiccup doesn't do pity. He does loyalty. And he does 'I-like-you-but-I'm-too-dumb-to-say-it' pretty well too." Her eyes twinkled, but her voice was sincere. "And I know you— when you really care about someone, you get scared. But don't let that stop you. You two are. . . good together. You belong together. Whether anyone else sees it or not doesn't matter."

There was silence for a moment. Then, without warning, Dany stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Astrid in a fierce hug. It startled Stormfly enough to stop fussing and glance over in confusion. While the Hofferson would've normally been touched by her best friend's gesture, the rare embrace only made the already-present gnawing in her stomach grow worse at the secret she was keeping from the people she cared most about. Then, as if to drive the stake into her heart further, she heard the Targaryen whisper:

"You're a really good friend," Dany mumbled into her shoulder.

Astrid felt the knife in her chest twist. She knew keeping Heather's secret from Dany and Hiccup was the only way they could keep her cover, but she hated having to choose between her best friends and someone she was starting to. . . really care about, especially because she knew how bad the fallout was going to be. Dany, who was honest to a fault (except when it came to admitting her feelings, apparently), would feel betrayed that Astrid was helping someone she loathed. And Hiccup who, as she'd said, was loyal to the bone, would hate the deception as much as Dany hated Heather (which was a lot.)

She was fully aware that she could be facing the loss of her best friends at the risk of helping someone whom she hadn't known for nearly as long. But, there was just something about Heather that drew her to the other woman. They were two sides of the same coin; both strong-minded, brave, axe-wielding shield maidens who didn't take shit from any man. There was a lot of commonality there, enough to engender mutual respect and, Astrid hoped, some time soon, more.

On the other hand, there was Dany, her sister— not by blood, but through trial by fire. Just about as different from Heather in every way possible, yet they connected on a certain level, too. Dany trusted her implicitly, just as Astrid did her. Always had. From the moment they'd fought the Red Death, through battles, heartbreaks, sleepless nights spent curled in front of a fire talking about dragons and fears and futures— Dany had been her anchor. And Hiccup. . . Hiccup had never once questioned her loyalty. If he found out she'd hidden something from him— no matter the reason— it would gut him.

It was gutting her right now to do this to both of them, but she knew, logically, it was the right choice. Dany would leave Heather to the wolves while Hiccup would insist on pulling her out, causing both unnecessary tension and ruin their chance at taking down the dragon hunters once and for all. As Daenerys pulled away from her, her violet eyes full of appreciation and affection, Astrid realized she couldn't do this anymore. She had to say something— anything— or the weight of her secrets would crush her.

"I'm not," the Hofferson muttered, brushing her bangs out of her eyes in a nervous tell that anyone— but not Dany— would have picked up on. Stormfly chirped at her, tilting her head in question, sensing her rider's tension. Astrid reached over to scratch just under her chin, grateful for the distraction. "Not really. I. . . I've been keeping something from you. And if I tell you. . . you might never look at me the same again."

Dany frowned, apprehension immediately filling her at her best friend's serious tone. Her mind began to try and guess what the blonde's secret might be, starting off as benign and then steadily growing worse. Maybe she broke something important, like the Dragon Eye. Hiccup would be really mad about that. But Astrid never looked this serious about broken property and besides, she wasn't sure if Astrid had ever accidentally broken something, ever.

She shifted her weight, suddenly uncomfortable, her fingers curling into the hem of her tunic. What if it's about Hiccup? What if something happened to someone and she didn't tell me? Her breath caught. What if she's sick? Or someone's hurt and she's hiding it? That thought lingered just long enough to quicken her pulse, but that didn't sit quite right.

Was that fear on Astrid's face? Or was it guilt? Was it worry? Dany wished she was better at reading people's expressions, or that her best friend would just come out and tell her what it was. Sure, she needed practice reading between the lines (especially if she was supposed to understand Hiccup's mysterious signals), but not like this!

But, what she could understand were her own feelings. A different kind of weight settled over her, one she recognized too well: the heavy, sinking dread of being left out of something important. And worse— being left out on purpose. What if it wasn't about things or people or Hiccup? What if it was about her? What if Astrid was done?

Her best friend had been avoiding the Edge recently. She hadn't been there for when Dany had punched Snotlout (something she would've never missed otherwise.) She wasn't there when Dany wanted to get some extra axe-wielding help after her nearly-failed skirmish on Dagur's ship. Astrid hadn't been around for breakfast, usually coming in inconspicuously after everyone was done.

The thought stabbed her straight through the chest, panic flooding in without warning. Maybe Astrid had finally had enough. Enough of the missed signals. Enough of the quiet obsessions, the black-and-white worldview, the way she needed time alone sometimes without knowing how to explain it. Enough of the way she couldn't always read the room the way other people could.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe Astrid was about to say she didn't want to be friends anymore.

That was the deepest fear. The one Dany never spoke aloud. That one day, someone she loved would look at her— really look at her— and decide she was just too much work. Too much effort. That all her quirks and complexities and late-night overthinking weren't endearing, but exhausting.

That even Astrid, her sister-in-arms, would eventually reach her limit. And judging by the tremble in Astrid's voice, the stiffness in her shoulders, the way she wouldn't quite meet her eyes—

Maybe that time had come.

But what came out of the Hofferson's mouth completely caught Dany off guard, Astrid's usual confident tone giving way to something more uncertain, almost hesitant: "do. . . do you remember, when we first became friends— I mean really became friends— you told me you didn't like me because you thought I had feelings for Hiccup?"

The Targaryen blinked at her, momentarily thrown as her spiraling thoughts came to a screeching halt and made a sharp about-face. A new fear filled her, almost as bad as her biggest one. She stared at her best friend in stunned horror, barely managing to stammer out: "y-you changed your mind? You do like Hiccup like that now?"

Astrid gave her a wide-eyed look back— then promptly burst out laughing. It wasn't a polite giggle but a full-bodied, unrestrained guffaw that made Stormfly squawk in alarm and Dany take an instinctive step back in startled confusion.

"Wh-why are you laughing?" Dany asked, half-defensive, half-dismayed. "That's not funny!"

Astrid tried to wave a hand to calm her down, nearly doubled over. "Oh— Dany— oh my gods, your face," she gasped. "No! No, not even close! That's— wow, that is so far from the truth—"

Dany's brows furrowed. "Wait. Then what is it? You said I might never look at you the same again!"

Astrid wiped at her eyes and finally sobered, her grin turning into something softer, more genuine. "No way," she insisted, shaking her head, voice low and sincere now. "It's just the opposite, actually."

The words made Dany go rigid. "What, you hate him now?" she blurted out, suddenly on the defensive, arms crossing as her voice turned protective. "What did he do?"

"What? No!" Astrid's giggles came again, though gentler this time, easing Dany's indignation away. "No, I don't hate him. I care about him a lot— just not like that. Not romantically. Not just him— any guy, really. I mean, not one that I've met yet, at least. I've figured it out now and I guess. . . I'm okay with that. That's why I found it so funny. You know, that first time you accused me of liking him? It was like being mistaken for a fish when you're actually a bird."

Dany took a moment to digest the statement. "So. . . you like girls?"

Astrid's jaw tensed. "Yeah. I do. Took me a while to be sure. I thought maybe you'd be weird about it."

The Targaryen squinted at her, not sure where her best friend's unease was coming from. "Why would I be weird about that? Female dragons mate with other females sometimes. Same with the males."

Astrid blinked back, caught completely off guard. "Wait— what?"

"It's not that uncommon," Dany informed her with a small shrug, as if discussing weather patterns. "And it's pretty widely accepted on Berk, isn't it? That's why Gobber doesn't have a wife."

Astrid just stared at her, completely dumbfounded. "What? You think. . . Gobber doesn't have a wife because he's—?"

"I always thought he and Stoick were closer than brothers," she stated simply. "At least on Gobber's side. Maybe I can see it because I think differently."

Astrid opened her mouth, then closed it again. For once, she was the one rendered speechless. After a beat, she shook her head in amazement "I— Dany. You're something else."

"I've heard that before," Daenerys allowed, not quite smiling, but not ashamed either.

Astrid grinned. "But in a good way."

A beat passed between them. Then another.

"So," Dany mumbled, voice quieter now, "you're not about to tell me you don't want to be friends anymore?"

Astrid slid off the rock and stepped forward without hesitation, pulling her into a second, fiercer hug, feeling the blonde tense against her due to her natural discomfort. "Not in a million lifetimes," she promised, not all that surprised (but also sad that her best friend had considered it for a second.) "You're stuck with me."

The Targaryen wiggled free as soon as Astrid let her, feeling comforted by her best friend's words— enough so that she met the other woman's gaze with a small smirk. "So. . . is there any reason in particular that you're telling me this now? Maybe you had someone in mind?" She paused, her expression taking on a mock-thoughtful appearance. "Is it Ruffnut?"

"Oh, gods no!" Astrid exclaimed without even having to process her question fully, though she chuckled at the eagerness in Dany's gaze; clearly she hoped that she could lay on the teasing just as Astrid had done when she'd found out about Dany's crush on Hiccup. Astrid figured that was the least amount of recompense that she could offer her and hopefully would ease the blow of her. . . other secret a little whenever it did finally come to light. "It's. . . well, it's kind of controversial, and I know you won't like it, but. . . it's, uh, Heather."

Dany blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then she recoiled like she was a dragon facing an eel.

"Heather?!" she spat, almost tripping over the name. "Heather-Heather?"

Astrid winced. "Yes."

"The Heather who tried to kill us?" Dany's voice rose incredulously. "The one who betrayed us to the dragon hunters?"

"She's-she's misunderstood," Astrid objected quickly— a bit too quickly— trying to keep her voice calm and neutral. "You don't know the whole story."

"Well, I know enough of the story," she shot back, crossing her arms. "She's dangerous. Manipulative. Probably evil. Or at the very least dramatic and suspicious. And now you're telling me she's your crush?"

Astrid drew in a slow breath, steadying herself. "I didn't plan it, okay? I didn't want to feel this way. But she's not what you think. There's more going on than you realize."

Dany's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

Astrid hesitated. She wanted— ached— to tell the truth. But she couldn't. Not yet. Not without blowing Heather's cover and jeopardizing everything.

"It means you might be judging her too fast," she shared, opting for partial truth. "She's not perfect— gods, no— but there's a reason she's doing what she's doing. And I. . . see her. The real her. And I like her."

Dany looked at her for a long time. Astrid half-expected her to explode again. Maybe storm off. Instead, she gave a small, half-hearted shrug, her voice somewhere between resigned and mildly betrayed. (And if that wasn't a sign of things to come, Astrid didn't want to imagine how she'd react to her real secret.) "Well. . . if that makes you happy, I guess."

Astrid blinked. "Really?"

"No," Dany remarked bluntly. "But I'm trying to be supportive. I just— out of all the women in the entire world, it had to be Heather? That's unfathomable. It's like if I had a crush on-on Snotlout."

"That's not remotely the same—"

"Close enough!" Daenerys huffed. "Just-just promise me you won't let her hurt you."

Something in her tone— firm and uncertain and raw— cut through Astrid's defenses in an instant. Her voice became sincere. "I won't."

Dany gave her a long look, then sighed. "Fine. But I'm watching her. Very closely. And if she tries anything—"

"I know," Astrid reassured her. "You'll roast her."

"Glad we understand each other." Then Dany muttered, "Ruffnut would've been a better option."

🏹🏹🏹

Astrid was gone again from Dragon's Edge, though this time she had made it known that she was going to visit Berk— something Dany appreciated so she wasn't stewing in what-ifs all day. Instead, she busied herself with taking the afternoon patrol that no one had wanted since they all would rather be present for their umpteenth Gronckle Iron armor test. The Targaryen had personally grown bored after the fourth one failed, so she didn't mind flying around the island by herself.

She and Drogon took a nice, leisurely loop since they didn't have Stormfly or Toothless to challenge them to feats of speed. It was a nice change; the wind blowing gently in her face, the cool air against her skin, the relative silence of being away from her chaotic friends (and one Zippleback in particular whom she was not so fond of right now.) There were no unwelcome ships in the harbor, no strange boats pulled up at any of the coves and, most importantly, no dragon hunters trying to slip onto their island— at least for now.

With Dragon's Edge successfully secure, she made her way back to their base. She startled when she saw Astrid flying towards her in the opposite direction; the Hofferson wasn't due back for several days. Whatever she was returning with probably wasn't good news. Dany sighed, wishing that they could have more than just a few peaceful moments at a time before everything went to Hel again. But, after greeting her best friend (who promised to tell her everything once the others were there, too), they both flew down to where the rest of the riders had gathered after putting up their dragons for the night.

The two women joined them just as Snotlout was boasting, "but it won't make it Snotlout proof. Nothing can. It's a good thing for you guys I'm on your side."

Astrid smirked at her, then nudged Stormfly to use her snout to knock him over. Drogon let out an appreciative rumble, always happy to see the brazen man get taken down a few notches. The Hofferson peered down at him skeptically. "You are? Huh. Honestly, sometimes it's hard to tell."

Hiccup's expression brightened at the sight of his two best friends. "Dany! Patrol went well? And Astrid, you're back from Berk already?"

Daenerys nodded to confirm that there was no suspicious activity that she'd seen but replied more to his second question. "Actually, it seems Astrid has news that she needs to share with us."

"Yeah, I never made it to Berk," the blonde informed them. "I ran into Trader Johann along the way and he had some interesting news. Hiccup, Dany, we need to talk."

"Of-Of course," he conceded, caught off guard by her unexpected seriousness. He quickly regained his composure and waved them towards the clubhouse.

They gathered there with the other riders, Astrid standing before them in front of the fire. "Johann flagged me down on the way to Berk to tell me that he'd seen Ryker, Heather, and the Dragon Hunters in the Northern Markets buying all the cold weather gear they could get."

Snotlout frowned, for once puzzled by relevant information. "Why would you buy winter gear in the summer?"

"Hel-lo," Ruffnut interjected. "That's when you get the best prices!"

"Ruff is an excellent shopper," Tuffnut announced supportively. "She actually got both our outfits two for the price of one."

The Jorgenson rolled his eyes at the other man's bragging. "No one's surprised by that."

Hiccup stepped forward, redirecting the conversation to get it back on track. "Where would the dragon hunters be going that they would need heavy weather gear this time of year? Did Johann hear anything else?"

Astrid paused, recalling the information. "They needed the gear right away. And they were after something rare. A bone or a claw. . ." She trailed off significantly.

Hiccup wasn't one of the smartest members of their group for nothing and he instantly caught her drift. His eyes widened at the realization. "Or maybe a tooth?"

Dany let out a quiet groan. "Great. It's bad enough that it snows all winter long. Now we have to have snow in the summer, too?"

Fishlegs was next to catch on. "The Snow Wraith!" he exclaimed. "Of course! The dragon hunters are after the Snow Wraith to get its teeth."

The others had finally figured it out, too. Tuffnut scoffed, confident that the unfriendly dragon was safe. "Good luck with that. We barely got out of there alive."

"The Dragon Eye used to belong to the hunters," Hiccup reminded the rest of the group. "They must know they need a Snow Wraith tooth to make it work."

"Who cares?" Snotlout demanded. "All it means is that they aren't coming our way."

"We don't know that for sure," Dany countered. "It's just a stall tactic. They know they'll have to pry the Dragon Eye out of our cold, dead fingers, but it'll be useless to them until they can activate it."

"But if we're cold and dead," Tuffnut piped up, "couldn't they just use the tooth we got?"

"Well, I suppose. But it's not like we keep it on a string attached to the Eye. Maybe if they get their hands on it, we'd have destroyed it beforehand or something," the Targaryen reasoned. "Ryker definitely seems like the kind of guy to have multiple backup plans. I know the type." She cast a sidelong glance at Hiccup.

"Dany's right," the chief's son agreed (ignoring Snotlout's 'of course she is.') "if they do get their own key, they'll be coming for us next."

Astrid sighed as she watched his expression harden, his jaw clench, brows furrow and emerald eyes become determined. "Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking. . ."

"Oh, he's thinking," Ruffnut observed.

Tuffnut concurred. "That's definitely his thinking face."

"We can't let that happen," Hiccup declared. "Get a good night's sleep, gang. We leave for Glacier Island at first light."

"Aw, man," Daenerys complained. "I'm going to have to wear boots again?"

🏹🏹🏹

The next morning, they flew towards the cold, snowy island that had appeared on the horizon not long ago in a nearly perfect diamond formation. Toothless and Hiccup were at the front as usual, the twins and Snotlout on one side with Astrid and Fishlegs on the other. Dany brought up the rear, both since Drogon needed the extra wing space and he was the strongest dragon to guard from behind.

She was grateful that their position meant they weren't bearing the full force of the icy wind, though it certainly wasn't a picnic by any means. After her last chilly encounter when they'd laid the groundwork for the north watchtower, Dany made sure to bundle up extra well. She hated being their weakest link in cold climates, especially since they were, well Vikings. It was snowy more than not, which put her at a serious disadvantage most of the time. Sure, she had Drogon's fire to rely on to warm her up, but what if they were in an area that was too unstable for heat? So, despite her dislike for constricting clothes and the insufferable, sweaty warmth of layers of furs, she made sure she was prepared this time. That didn't mean she was any less miserable, and she hunched up further as the twins' rough voices brought her out of her reverie.

"Hey, can I ask a stupid question?" Tuffnut spoke up as the island came steadily closer.

"You sure can," Ruffnut encouraged him. "Better than anyone I know."

He beamed at her. "Thank you, sister."

"You're welcome."

Thankfully, their banter was short-lived as Tuffnut came back to his point. "Hiccup, are we really trying to protect a dragon, that the last time we saw it tried to kill us, from dragon hunters, who every time we see them try to kill us?"

"And Heather and her dragon," Ruffnut added before their leader could respond. "Don't forget them. They like to try and kill us, too."

"Heather won't be a problem," Astrid reassured them. Dany studied her critically, not liking her defense of the woman she despised, though maybe it was her best friend's newfound feelings for the Berserker that made her quick to take her side. After all, she would defend Hiccup from just about anybody, regardless of whose side they were on.

Fishlegs noted the blonde's odd statement as well and he queried, "why wouldn't Heather be a problem?"

Astrid froze, though none of the others noticed. She scrambled to come up with a reasonable excuse. "Just that we. . . we outnumber her, right?"

"Look," Hiccup cut in, keeping his gaze focused on the island ahead rather than reading his friends' faces. "Heather or no Heather, all we have to do is find the Snow Wraith first and relocate him to an island where the hunters won't find him."

Ruffnut raised her eyes skyward, unconvinced of the ease of his plan. "Oh, that's all?"

"Uh, that sounds like the sort of 'extremely dangerous—'" Tuffnut used air quotes, mocking all the times he'd been accused of such a thing. "—plan I would come up with. And no, I do not mean that as a compliment."

"I didn't think so," Hiccup retorted. "Come on. Let's head over to where we found the Snow Wraith last time."

"Oh, you mean where it found us?" Snotlout grumbled.

Hiccup grimaced, not liking the fact that the other teen was right. "That's one way of putting it."

"Yes; the only way."

Dany huddled closer to Drogon's warm back as the island came ever-nearer. Dark, gray clouds swirled around it, causing its ice-blue color to become foggy from the gusts of snow that fell. It looked cold and the weren't even there yet. What was worse was that she could tell it wasn't going to be an easy landing; blizzards always made things more difficult.

They did make it, though, and dismounted quickly to get out of the wind as much as they could. She stood as close to Drogon as possible so that they nearly looked like the same being. He extended his wing to shelter her further from the storm while they waited for Toothless to use his echolocation to find the Snow Wraith. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be anything out there.

Ruffnut— who hadn't come prepared like Dany— was shivering in her boots, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to retain some semblance of warmth. "This is summer on glacier island? No wonder they don't get any tourists."

Her brother looked just as frozen as he shuffled closer to her. "What would their slogan be? 'If the Snow Wraith doesn't kill you, the weather will.'"

"Hey, that's a good slogan!" Ruffnut concurred.

Dany made a face (or maybe she just thought about doing one; she couldn't feel her nose at this point.) She didn't know how the twins still had energy to joke when it felt like she was about to become an icicle if they stood out here much longer. Even her usual spinning mind had frozen solid, leaving her to only be able to think about how cold she was and how much she wished she were anywhere but there.

"That's a terrible slogan," Hiccup countered. "But, the good news is, if we run into any dragon hunters they won't have much luck with those dragon root arrows in this weather."

"And the bad news is—" Snotlout spoke up, making them all turn to see the twins had wrapped their wiry arms and legs around him, much to his displeasure.

The Targaryen was very glad she wasn't in his place. That didn't stop her from glancing over at Hiccup (who, she was envious to see, seemed entirely unaffected by the arctic wind that tugged at his hair and blistered against his face) and imagining how he would react if she— Dany forced her mind to come to a screeching halt, forbidding herself from thinking about finishing that thought. (Though it did nothing to stop her face from heating up, but that was luckily written off a reaction to the cold.) Oh, gods— go back to thinking about how cold you are!

Hiccup took in the trio's antics, bemused. "What are you doing?"

"It's called 'body heat management,'" Ruffnut explained, not loosening her grip on Snotlout for a second.

"Also known as the Thorston Sandwich served cold," her brother provided.

Daenerys grimaced, her voice quiet enough for only Drogon to hear as she muttered, "I do not want to know what that looks like 'served hot.'"

Hiccup did make a face (apparently he wasn't as frozen as the rest of them.) "That's. . . horrifying. Okay, why don't you guys set up camp? Astrid and I will scout the land."

Dany reluctantly pulled away from Drogon's warmth, feeling offended that her best friend had made no mention of her coming along. "What about me? I can scout too! You can't leave me alone with them!"

Hiccup, who'd moved to take his position on Toothless' back, turned back at the sound of her voice. She didn't realize how close she was to stomping her feet like a stubborn child— but it was cold, and she was tired, and he was about to fly off with Astrid and leave her in the middle of a frostbitten nightmare with the twins and Snotlout.

"You're not 'alone' with them," he pointed out, knowing that it was a weak argument. "Fishlegs is staying too—"

"That doesn't count!" Dany protested. You know it doesn't, she wanted to add but didn't. Because then she would have to explain that Fishlegs, as much as she cared about him, wasn't her best friend. He wasn't her person. And she always went with Hiccup when they were doing safety things. She didn't like the thought of them (him and Astrid) flying off into the gods-forsaken wasteland when they couldn't see their hands in front of their faces! How was she supposed to protect them if she wasn't there?

"You don't do well with the cold," the brunet tried again. "You'll be more comfortable if you stay here, with the others. Besides—" Now, his voice held a quiet sincerity that made her stomach twist. "—I rely on you, Dany." Her breath caught in her throat. Hiccup continued more earnestly, "I rely on you to keep things together when I'm not around. Especially with. . ." He gestured subtly toward the twins, who had landed in the snow once Snotlout freed himself from their 'sandwich.' "Well, you know."

She did know. And as much as she hated being left behind, his words resonated somewhere deep. Not just because he trusted her— but because he saw her as capable. Needed. Relied on. "Fine," she muttered, not at all happy— and especially unwilling to show how affected she was by his sentiment.

🏹🏹🏹

Thankfully, both of her best friends returned to camp safe and sound— and with a promising find, at least on Astrid's part. Another good thing was that the snow had abated, so they were able to travel in a single-file line up the mountainside the Hofferson had indicated with only the normal amount of caution. That didn't mean it was any warmer, though, and Dany found herself counting the minutes until they could go back to Dragon's Edge. She had to actively remind herself to listen to Astrid's report rather than let her thoughts drift, more distracted than usual due to her discomfort.

"So, when I spotted the cave from the air, it got me thinking. Last time we were here, the Snow Wraith was on us right away. Remember?" The blonde waited for Hiccup to acknowledge her words. "So why not this time? Maybe because it's hiding out or hibernating or something in that cave."

Fishlegs thought it over. "Yeah, that's not a bad theory."

Dany, however, became disquieted at the other woman's revelation. Astrid was notoriously dismissive of anything related to being a 'dragon nerd,' with theories being at the top of the list. It didn't seem like her to be suddenly so invested in a species' behaviors, especially when Dany had talked her ears off about them for hours and received little in the way of enthusiasm. But, Astrid was her best friend. There was no reason to mistrust her; maybe all the time they'd spent together was finally piquing her interest and they could have a fourth 'dragon nerd' club member. (The logical part of her scolded her naiveté.)

She was glad (but also not, because she didn't want her suspicions to be right) when Hiccup stated slowly, "I agree. I'm just wondering how it was you came all the way out here when we were scouting in the opposite direction."

The Targaryen concentrated on trying to read Astrid's reaction to Hiccup's observation. It was slightly easier for her to understand people's emotions when she was closer to them, but it never came as naturally as she would've liked it to. She watched from her spot on Drogon's back behind them as the other woman turned her head away, her gaze falling on the ocean rather than meeting the brunet's. "I must've gotten lost."

"Lost?" the chief's son echoed. Disbelief— Dany could tell that was the tone in his voice. He didn't think she was telling the truth, either.

Astrid's eyes flicked back to his. "Fine. I got carried away, okay? You know how I am."

Then, her eyes fell to the back of her dragon's head. She couldn't hold his gaze, Daenerys realized. There were a few possible explanations for this. Shyness— that one she could cross off right away. Astrid was the opposite of shy. Discomfort around people, like she had— but that didn't develop right away; Astrid had never had a problem with eye contact before, unlike her. Which, as far as Dany was aware, just left. . . guilt. But what would Astrid have to be guilty of?

"Maybe we should take a closer look at the cave before we jump to any conclusions," Hiccup suggested, trying to sound casual but failing to disguise the edge in his voice.

They continued up the summit for some time. The higher they climbed, the more the sun beat down on them, but it never grew warmer. Yet, somehow, Dany's extra layers felt like they were increasingly stifling and she longed to rip them off and throw them over the cliff. She could feel the sweaty slickness of her skin underneath her furs and leathers, the way her toes were squished together in her terrible boots and how her braids pulled at her scalp underneath the winter hat she almost never wore. It seemed to take forever to reach the top, leaving Dany's mind to start back up into its usual active spinning as she worried about what was going on with her best friend. At least she was no longer solely thinking about how cold she was, though her additional thoughts provided little comfort.

But, finally, they made it— and stopped. Hiccup held up his hand at a strange sound that bounced off the rocks around them, bringing them to a halt. The riders fell quiet, tensing as they waited for. . . whatever it was to show themselves. Astrid's grip tightened on her axe. Dany strung her bow. Fishlegs held a small knife out in front of him with a whimper. Snotlout, however, simply leaned against Hookfang's horns and looked bored out of his mind. "So much for your hibernation theory."

A rumbling growl rose in the Night Fury's throat, echoed by the dragons behind him. Hiccup leaned forward in his saddle to murmur, "Toothless, make the first shot count."

The black dragon tensed, drawing in on himself as purple light began to build in his throat. His eyes narrowed as his lips pulled into a snarl, preparing to face whatever awaited them on the other side of the snow drifts. Then, just when everyone was on tenterhooks waiting for. . . whatever or whoever it was, the sound crescendoed as three very hairy, very dangerous— squealing boars burst into the open.

Toothless immediately swallowed back his plasma blast, dropping from his defensive position as he tilted his head curiously at the creatures. They bundled together, terrified, and at Fishlegs' delayed yell, scurried off. Hiccup turned around on his dragon's back to arch his brow at the larger man. He hunched his shoulders and tucked away his dagger, embarrassed.

"There it is!" Astrid exclaimed abruptly, pointing to a part of the snow that was a darker blue than the surrounding area. She glanced at Hiccup. "I'll go check it out."

"We'll all go check it out," he asserted.

They dismounted their dragons once they were inside. Dany was impressed by how big the Snow Wraith's tunnels were; they were large enough that Drogon could navigate them without trouble. They hadn't gone very far when Hiccup noticed the first signs of life in the form of deep gouges along the icy wall. He ran a hand over them, marveling at their size. "Look at these claw marks. I'd say we found the right cave."

"It's nice," Tuffnut offered with a shrug. "It's no boar pit, but it's nice."

"Alright. Let's take it slowly and quietly. Snotlout, get the Nightmare gel out."

Never one to like being told what to do, the Jorgenson complied, though he made his dissatisfaction with doing so quite known. They ignored his complaints and ventured further in. Unfortunately, they weren't able to go very far before they had company— and not in the benign form of wild boars. Stormfly picked up the clinking of Windshear's tail first, having known to expect the dragon and her rider. The other dragons followed suit, soon alerting all of the riders to the approach of danger.

"What is it, bud?" Hiccup muttered, noticing the turn of his dragon's head.

Now that her friend had heard the sound, too, Astrid allowed herself to speak up, making her question hesitant and disbelieving. "Is that. . .?"

"Behind us!"

Dragon root arrows came flying towards them before they could fully react. Three archers plus Ryker stood at the mouth of the cave, volleying arrows at them rapidly. Toothless ducked his head between his legs and made a skilled upside-down shot at them. Some of the arrows exploded, but more were still being sent their way.

"Everybody down!" Hiccup ordered at the same time Astrid called for Stormfly's spine shots.

The Nadder whipped her tail around, flaring her wings as she obeyed. The dragon hunters went running back out into the blowing snow, though they all knew that wouldn't keep them at bay for long.

Sure enough, the next wave of soldiers filled the caves entrance but this time, they were ready. Since Drogon's fire was too hot in their precarious, icy conditions, Dany relied on her bow and arrow, returning as good as they gave. That, paired with more of Stormfly's spine shots and Toothless' plasma blasts sent the hunters packing again. Luckily, none of them were injured, save for the arrow that got stuck in Tuffnut's helmet— which he was mostly just annoyed by.

"Oh, shoot my helmet, will ya!"

His sister chuckled, amused by his irritation. They slammed their heads together in their usual celebration. Hiccup shot them a stern look. "Keep it down, will ya?" he snapped, glaring at them before turning back to focus on the mouth of the cave. "We wake up that Snow Wraith, things get a lot trickier."

"What do you think Ryker's next move is?" Astrid asked in the relative calm that followed.

"Surrender?" Ruffnut suggested confidently.

"Or. . . I guess he could do that," Fishlegs spoke up, his voice wavering as he pointed to the shadow that grew on the ice cave's ceiling. Their eyes dropped to the mouth of the cavern to find Ryker himself standing there.

The man raised his voice, cupping his hand around his mouth to make sure that not just the teens heard him, but anything else that might be lurking within did, too. "Dragon riders! Send out your leader to talk!"

"It's gotta be a trap," Astrid reasoned. "I should go out, see what their game is."

"Yeah, let Astrid go," Snotlout quipped.

"Or I could go," Dany cut in. "I get why I wouldn't have been the best scout for this climate, but this I can do."

Ryker didn't have the patience to let them debate. His loud voice called out again, reverberating off the frozen walls. "Hiccup Haddock! Let's talk this out like men."

The Targaryen then flinched and clamped her hands over her ears as they rang with the sound of metal on ice. The dragon hunters' leader had thrown down his weapon, jamming it into the solid floor in front of him as a sign of the apparent 'peace' he wanted. Sadly for him, the riders weren't that stupid, and Fishlegs shivered at the aggressive noise. "Oh, I don't like the sound of that."

Hiccup took a deep breath, setting his jaw. "If there's one chance to settle this without bloodshed, I have to try." He started forward, his shield at the ready, but came to a halt when he realized Toothless was following him. The brunet stopped him regretfully. "No, bud. If this is a trap, I may need you to get me out of it." His gaze flicked over to Dany, who was just about ready to burst with frustration at how stubbornly independent he was. He could offer her little in the way of consolation, except, "have your bow at the ready."

She wasn't much reassured, but it did feel good to have the strong, solid weapon in her hands. She met his gaze so he could see the worry in her eyes— to know, wordlessly, how concerned she was for him. With the others around, though, all she spoke aloud was, "be careful."

"I will," he promised, his expression softening slightly at the emotions that played across her face. Then, it hardened again and he marched out to meet Ryker just beyond the turn of the cave where the riders could see him.

Dany inched closer to the corner, her arrow nocked and bow raised. She pressed her back against the wall, doing her best to ignore the chill that crept through her layers of fur. Her friends shuffled forward with her, all the better to be closer to their leader when danger did eventually strike— or, in some cases, simply to eavesdrop on the conversation

They heard Ryker hum thoughtfully to himself. "Dagur was right. You don't look like much."

"Astrid was right," Hiccup returned promptly. "You look like a psycho."

The Targaryen smirked, amused by her best friend's smart remark— though it did nothing to ease her apprehension of the situation as a whole. Ryker's dark, menacing chuckle filled cavern and set her teeth on edge. There was a faint, distinctive clink as Hiccup set his shield on his prosthetic. "What do you want, Ryker?"

"The Dragon Eye."

"Not a chance."

"It belongs to us, the Hunters. You stole it from our ship. And I will have it back."

Confidence filled Hiccup's tone as he returned firmly, "not today, you won't."

"Oh, no?" Ryker made a show of gesturing at the cave. "Look around. We're in front of you, the Snow Wraith is behind you. One time offer. Hand over the Dragon Eye and you're free to go."

Hiccup patted himself, putting on an act of searching for the lens. "Hmm," he remarked after a moment, mock-disappointed. "Uh. . . sorry. I must've left it in my other pants."

The dragon hunter's leader let out a displeased growl. "In that case, surrender and you won't meet the same fate as your dragons."

The chief's son grew serious then, dropping his lighthearted tone to match the threatening cadence of Ryker's. "Okay, here's my offer. Leave now and your men won't have to find out what burning flesh smells like."

Dany blinked, shocked by his uncharacteristically violent words.

That wasn't bluster— Hiccup's voice held a steel edge she wasn't used to hearing from him, and it sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the ice. There was a protectiveness in him, an uncompromising defiance that reminded her that he actually was a chief's son, not just her kindhearted, loyal best friend. And he wasn't posturing either; it was conviction. He meant every word.

A quiet pride warmed her chest despite the cold, a fierce, flickering ember inside of her. She hadn't known Hiccup could sound like that— commanding, deadly calm. It was impressive. And maybe, she realized as her eyes softened, a little touching. Because the words he'd spoken, the way he had drawn a line in the snow with his voice, sounded like something she would have said. That made her think about what Astrid had mentioned the other day, how Hiccup didn't say everything he was feeling— she had to interpret it for herself.

And maybe, she'd influenced him more than she'd thought. Now, watching the curve of his back as he stood alone at the mouth of the cave, shield raised, risking himself to protect the rest of them with that careful, cunning confidence. . . Was this one of those moments? Dany's lips parted slightly as she searched his stance, trying to gauge what she might be missing. She caught Astrid watching her from the corner of her eye and the other girl gave her a look. Not smug, not teasing— just knowing. And she quickly turned back to the front, pretending not to notice.

"You really don't have the Dragon Eye with you?" Ryker actually seemed disappointed.

"No."

"And you aren't coming out?"

"Not any time soon," Hiccup declared defiantly.

There was a pause, then Ryker sighed, as if he'd expected the teen's answer. "Don't say I didn't give you a chance." He bent down and tugged at his sword.

Next to Dany, Toothless began to growl, low and rumbling in his throat. That's what clued her in. She might be terrible at reading people, but she knew dragons. She didn't hesitate to steady her aim as light flooded the cavern, illuminating the shadows of the soldiers that had been lying in wait.

"Hiccup, it's a trap!" Astrid cried out.

As the hunter fired at the chief's son, Dany returned the arrow with her own. Hiccup raised his shield in time to block the enemy's attack. Their opponent— who did not have a speck of Gronckle Iron on him— wasn't so lucky. There was a faint, recognizable thud of a body hitting the ice.

Ryker scowled, furious that the tide was turning against him. The remaining soldier rushed forward as his leader turned away, hoping to leave the riders to their deaths. Dany had to pause to string another arrow, leaving herself vulnerable for a second. But, despite the many differences amongst her friends, they always had each other's backs when it counted. Meatlug's fireball filled the space between one arrow and the next, blasting the second soldier off his feet.

Hookfang went next with a aggressive wall of flames. Toothless joined in, and Stormfly with her spikes, and another arrow from Dany. The cave was choking with dust and broken stone that was loosened by the dragon fire, making it hard to see their opponents. In the end, it didn't matter.

Brilliant, silver light lit up the cavern. The riders were momentarily blinded and had to duck from the brightness of it. A great grinding, shuddering noise filled their ears. Dany covered her own once again, shuddering as it vibrated within her. She instinctively crouched closer to the floor, curling in on herself. There was a different kind of thundering— four heavy, taloned claws— and a familiar, bulky shadow loomed over her. Drogon stood over his mother protectively, using his body as a shield to stand between her and the falling ice and stone. He tucked his tail into his side and lowered his head, forming a compact, impenetrable ball.

Eventually, everything fell still.

Purple light shone through the gaps between Drogon's legs. Dany cautiously lowered her hands from her ears. When she heard Hiccup's question— "is everyone alright?"— she pulled herself out from the safety of Drogon's body. Her friends had faired just as poorly, though luckily no one seemed gravely hurt. Somehow, Meatlug and Fishlegs had switched places, so now the Gronckle was sitting on top of her rider. Chunks of ice pinned him in, and he tilted his head to look at Hiccup upside-down. With a grunt, he replied, "define 'alright.'"

Meatlug fluttered off him, allowing him to get to his feet. Hookfang lit up in a golden glow, for once controlling his flame properly so they could use his abilities to see. Snotlout frowned at the wall they now faced. "Why would Ryker seal himself off from the key?"

"He wasn't sealing himself out," Astrid explained, and Dany relaxed now that all of her friends had been accounted for. "He was sealing us in."

"Astrid's right," Hiccup confirmed. "Ryker figures we'll fight the Snow Wraith for him and then he'll come in and deal with whoever survives."

Snotlout thought this over, unexpectedly impressed. "Oh, awesome." Then his amusement dropped considering he was included in that strategy. "But we're not going to do that, right?"

Hiccup returned his shield to his back and settled himself on Toothless' saddle again. "The plan hasn't changed. We grab the Snow Wraith and get it out of here, away from Ryker."

The Jorgenson sent him a deadpanned glare. "Oh, is that all we have to do? So easy."

Dany huffed at his (expected) mocking, following her friends' leads and climbing up to her spot on Drogon's back. "Again, Snotlout, do you have a better idea? Because right now, all I'm hearing is complaining."

Snotlout scoffed, crossing his arms. "Better idea? Please. I always have better ideas." He jabbed a thumb toward himself, puffing up. "Like, maybe not walking into a frozen death trap in the first place!"

"Too late for that," Astrid muttered. Hiccup didn't deign the shorter man with a reply, simply shooting past him as the Night Fury headed deeper into the tunnels.

It was a short flight to the main cavern. The ceiling was high— impressively so— and the ground before them had widened, with little to disrupt it besides the occasional stalagmite.

"I choose to think positive," Tuffnut decided, the arrow still sticking out of his helmet. "We can do this!"

"Sure," his sister agreed. "We beat the Snow Wraith before. . . sort of."

"Yeah!" Fishlegs chimed in, brightening. He held up a finger to accompany his own argument. "And it won't have a blizzard to hide in!" He raised another finger. "And we have Dany, who basically did all the work last time."

The Targaryen smiled modestly. "Well, only because you guys got trapped in that snow collapse."

"And we outnumber him six to one," the younger Thorston added.

They froze at the sight that greeted them. On the cliff above their heads, there was not one, not two, not three, but four Snow Wraiths, all sleeping the summer away.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Astrid commented.

Dany's breath caught at the sight of the magnificent creatures. Their scales were just as pure white as she remembered. Its rows of pointed teeth were just visible in their open mouths, their breath rumbling out in deep, steady snores. Though their eyes were closed, she knew that underneath their lids, they were an icy, clouded blue.

After getting over his shock, Tuffnut remarked, "well, at least they're still asleep, and they won't wake up—"

As he spoke, one of the Snow Wraiths lifted its head. Luckily, its eyes were still closed, but it wouldn't be for long. Especially since Ruffnut grabbed her twin's face and scolded him loudly, "you are the worst positive thinker ever!"

He just grinned back at her, unfazed. "That's a very positive thing to say!" She released him with an annoyed grunt. He continued, just as loudly, "if we don't move, maybe it won't notice us."

Of course, right at that moment, the Snow Wraith's eyes snapped open and glared right at them. It let out a furious roar, clearly remembering the group from their first encounter.

"Maybe," Fishlegs hissed at the younger Thorston, "if you didn't move and kept your mouth shut!"

"What do we do?" Astrid asked, keeping her voice low unlike the twins.

"Maybe it remembers me," Dany spoke up hopefully. "I can get him to calm down and be reasoned with."

To her surprise, Hiccup looked like he actually considered her point for a second before he shook his head. "If it was just one, maybe," he allowed grudgingly. "But not four." His gaze landed on the arrow that stuck out of Tuffnut's helmet. "I think putting him back to sleep is our best option."

He jogged over to Tuffnut and yanked the arrow out, which he was very unhappy about. Then, he returned to the Targaryen's side and offered it to her. "But you can do the honors."

She was hesitant to take it at first, her instincts molded to rebel against hurting dragons in any way. She knew it was a necessary and impermanent injury, but it still felt wrong. The Snow Wraith sensed Hiccup's motion. There was no time to lose, so Dany forced herself to push past her own feelings for the good of the team. She unslung her bow from her back and propped it in her hands, locking the dragon root arrow in place. The white dragon tensed, bunching its muscles as it prepared for flight.

Dany's fingers tightened around the bow, her eyes narrowing with focused intensity. She didn't breathe, didn't blink. Everything else— the rumble of dragons behind her, the anxious mutterings of her teammates, the crackle of frost beneath Drogon's claws as he shifted— faded away as she drew the string back. The green-tipped arrowhead glinted silver in the dim light of the cavern.

Her gaze didn't leave the Snow Wraith, whose weight continued to adjust as he began to spread his wings. It was beautiful, even in its fury— sleek, dangerous, and majestic in a way only dragons could be. She didn't want to hurt it. But Ryker had left them no choice. If she missed this shot, they'd all be in danger— and the dragon would be at the mercy of a hunter who saw it as nothing more than a means to an end. She released the arrow just as the Snow Wraith launched itself from the cliffside.

The shot flew wide.

It soared in an upward trajectory, seemingly aimed for a spot somewhere above the dragon's head— clean, smooth, perfectly angled to hit absolutely nothing.

"Wow. Amazing," Snotlout stated flatly. "She missed."

"That was our only dragon root arrow!" Ruffnut cried, throwing her hands up. "We could've used that later!"

"Yeah, great job, legendary archer," Tuffnut added with heavy sarcasm. "Maybe next time close your eyes and try again?"

Dany didn't respond. She didn't even look away from the sky. Instead, she calmly lowered her bow and declared with quiet certainty, "I don't miss."

And in that instant, the Snow Wraith passed through the path of the arrow— its chest colliding with the shaft in midair. The arrow drove in with a soft but audible thump. The creature let out a thunderous roar, furious that it had been bested by a teenager— a human. Its wings faltered mid-flap and it plummeted toward the icy ground in a heavy, spiraling descent. It landed with an earth-shuddering crash that stirred the other three dragons.

Hiccup watched the entire shot unfold like something out of a dream. He should've expected it. He had expected it, really. Dany was the best archer he knew, and he'd seen her pull off near-impossible shots before. But still. . . actually witnessing her skill in action always left him stunned. His breath caught in his throat as the arrow soared wide. For a heartbeat, doubt threatened to overtake him. Had he read the angle wrong? Had she?

Then the Snow Wraith rose— just as Dany had anticipated— and flew right into the arrow's path. The impact was sharp, precise, fatal in a temporary, dragon-root way. The dragon roared, then crumpled in the air and crashed to the icy ground, unconscious.

Hiccup's lips parted just a little as he gazed at her, his eyes wide with awe. There was a calm stillness about her, the kind that only came from complete confidence in her skill. She hadn't been nervous. She hadn't flinched. And when everyone around them had been quick to mock what looked like a mistake, she hadn't needed to defend herself with anger or ego.

"I don't miss."

Hiccup swallowed, his heart doing a weird kind of flutter that had nothing to do with the cold. Gods, she was incredible.

He felt warmth bloom in his chest— part pride, part admiration, and the affection that he always felt for her surging up more presently during these moments. He tried to suppress the ridiculous grin creeping onto his face, but failed. Of course he'd made the right call trusting her with the shot. He always did. And in this moment, with the first dragon down, it felt— for the first time in hours— like everything might actually go their way. He turned toward her, already about to offer a quiet but sincere congratulations when—

The other three dragons hefted themselves to their feet, using their wing-tips to help them stand. Dread crawled up his spine. "So, that didn't work."

Dany slung her bow across her shoulders again. "If we had three more dragon root arrows I could take them out."

"Three more dragon root arrows? Oh, great idea, Dany. I'm sure there's a whole store of them just lying around, waiting for us to use," Snotlout snarked.

She shot him a glare, but no one was able to say anything more as the remaining Snow Wraiths began to fire at them. Blue-white light exploded around them, causing ice shards to fly up at the force of the impact. With the riders waylaid, the Snow Wraiths then folded their wings and dove into the cracks amongst the ice and snow.

"Burrowing! That's new," Hiccup observed.

Fishlegs hastily urged Meatlug into the air, wanting to get away from the ground as soon as possible. "I know. And I don't think like it."

There was a sharp crack of ice breaking and the riders turned in the direction the sound came from. Looking up, they saw one of the Snow Wraiths appear again, this time with the advantage of the high ground. One of its companions flew out of another hole above them as well. It shot a blast at Snotlout, who narrowly avoided it as Hookfang careened to the side.

"Oh, I know I don't like it!" the Jorgenson yelled.

They dove back down again, leaving just enough time for Hiccup to call: "quick! Defensive formation." At the command, they regrouped on the ground, positioning their dragons tail-to-tail. "Everybody take an angle! Fire as soon as you see them."

Despite their unlucky bout of danger, Dany was relieved, at least, that she no longer felt like she was going to freeze to death. She could feel her adrenaline kicking her senses into high gear, sending her blood pumping at a speed that kept her warmer than it usually did in such cold climates. She settled more comfortably on Drogon's back, ready for the next time one of the Snow Wraiths made an appearance.

The teens could feel the rumbling of the white dragons' burrowing. With every shake and shudder of the ground beneath them, they grew more anxious for the Snow Wraith's reappearance. Snotlout was becoming increasingly nervous the longer they failed to emerge. He began to jerk Hookfang's head back and forth as he tried to guess where they would show up.

"It feels like they're going left." He quickly backtracked. "No, right. Left. Which one's which?"

"Forget that!" Hiccup advised him. "Just cover your zone!"

One dragon appeared in Astrid's zone. Stormfly aimed her magnesium blast at it, convincing it to return from whence it came. Another shot up in front of the twins. The Zippleback's green gas warded it off momentarily. One more. As much as she touted the intelligence of dragons, Dany sincerely hoped that these particular ones were not the brightest. With their burrowing, they could, at any moment, find the weakness in the teens' defenses and attack right through the middle where their dragons' backs were turned. That would certainly not be ideal.

Thankfully, the final dragon materialized in front of Hiccup, who had Toothless ready with a stunning blast. Just like Dany, Toothless didn't miss. He hit the Snow Wraith square in the chest. The remaining white dragons picked up their fallen companions and dove back into the earth. The teens waited with bated breath.

When it had been several long minutes of nothing but the natural shifting sounds of being on a glacier, Astrid spoke up tentatively: "anybody feel anything?"

"Just a profound sense of relief," Tuffnut sighed.

Ruffnut nodded, then pinched her fingers together. "And perhaps a tinge of sadness?"

"Oh, exactly, sister."

Fishlegs straightened hopefully in his saddle. "I think they're gone."

"Maybe they tunneled all the way out," Hiccup mused. "If they did—"

"—that could be our way out, too," Astrid finished, brightening.

A distressed screech made them jump. It echoed up through the tunnels, filling the cavern so it became the only sound in their ears. With all their dragons accounted for (and only Astrid knowing about Windshear's presence), that could only mean one thing: Snow Wraiths in trouble.

"The hunters!" Hiccup realized, horrified. "Let's go!"

The group darted after him. Dany had been afraid that there would be a point where the tunnels narrowed too much for Drogon to fly through, but they didn't come across any, if they existed (though admittedly he wasn't able to fly with his usual, full wingspan in any of the confined spaces.) Instead, they struggled to figure out the twists and turns of the massive maze. All of the tunnels looked the same, the directions of up and down disorienting after only a few attempts at finding the right way out.

More than once, they nearly collided with one of the other riders as they, too, tried to figure out the pattern. Drogon, being slower, was easier to stop, so Dany willingly made way for them. Fishlegs wasn't so lucky. He crashed into Barf and Belch, getting tangled up in their long necks.

Eventually, they all landed back in the initial intersection, most of the group's voice loud and overlapping from right-of-way arguments. Dany had to cover her ears again as their voices bounced around the enclosed space. Hiccup was used to ignoring his friends' disagreements, so he was able to focus the next time the Snow Wraith roared. He didn't waste a second. "Follow me!"

They followed him up, up, up and back into the sunlight. Despite the renewed presence of cold, blowing wind, Daenerys couldn't help but feel relieved when they were out of the confines of the tunnels below. But, the feeling was short lived as their gazes fell on the sight that greeted them. Leftover arrow shafts, an abandoned net, spears and a cage were scattered around the hole's opening. The hunters had been lying in wait for the Snow Wraiths while they'd been fighting for their lives.

"Ryker knew about the burrowing the whole time," Hiccup noted. He faltered, unused to someone having more dragon knowledge than him— and using it to their advantage. Using his friends to their advantage. If only he hadn't underestimated Ryker, again. . . "He used us to flush the Snow Wraiths out, then captured them."

Astrid tracked their footprints in the snow. "Looks like they're headed back along the south side of the glacier."

The brunet's straightened in Toothless' saddle with renewed determination. "They're not gonna get there."

By the time they had made it to the bay, Dany was feeling the cold once more. She sat stiffly on Drogon's back, desperately straining to feel the warmth of his scales against her legs. But, they had made it. Six dragon riders were a lot faster than soldiers on foot, lugging four very discontent Snow Wraiths. The only downside was that the blizzard eased up, allowing both sides to see each other more clearly.

"Great time for the snow to let up," Astrid snarked.

Dany didn't care about the snow. All she could see were the cages. The dragon hunters had made it to the shoreline and were halfway through loading the unconscious Snow Wraiths onto a longship. The dragons were bound in nets, their bodies slack from the dragon root.

A fury bloomed in her chest, fast and hot. It was familiar— too familiar. She'd seen this before: dragons writhing against chains, muzzled and beaten, shackled like monsters instead of creatures of sky and flame. She had sworn then, never again. And now here it was. Again.

Her fists clenched so firmly around Drogon's spike that her knuckles went white. Her dragon rumbled beneath her, sensing her rage and echoing it with a growl of his own. She didn't speak. Didn't need to. Her silence was volcanic— boiling just beneath the surface, waiting to erupt. But she couldn't. She wouldn't. Not with her friends here, not with Hiccup here. There were other ways to make the dragon hunters pay, she knew. Not nearly as satisfying. Not nearly as permanent. But it would keep her friends from finding out about the true scope of violence she could create.

Fishlegs' voice broke through her mutinous thoughts. "Okay, we can't get too close. We need to stay out of the range of their arrows."

Dany purposefully pulled back. She had Drogon rise, up above the rest of her teammates, away from the injustice below them. She didn't want to be in firing range. If Hiccup ordered them to attack— in any form— that would be it for her. She wasn't confident in her restraint, in this situation that was so like the similar ones she'd faced the last three years, to obey.

True to form, the chief's son didn't command full-on bloodshed. His gaze flicked around, looking for a solution— any other solution— and fell on a sheet of ice that protruded on a cliffside. The idea brightened on his face before he made it known. He turned to the twins. "Maybe we don't need to. Ruff, Tuff, see that sheet of ice of there?"

The twins' eyes lit up immediately. Tuffnut crossed his fingers while Ruffnut clasped her hands imploringly. "Please say avalanche, please say avalanche!"

"We need an avalanche."

"Yes! Positive thinking works!" the younger Thorston cheered.

"Our specialty!"

As the twins shot forward spewing their green gas, the Targaryen made a concentrated effort to take a deep breath. She could keep it together, if not for her own sake, then for Hiccup's. She exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the chaos below. Her pulse still pounded furiously in her ears but she forced her fingers to loosen their grip on Drogon's spines. The old, familiar fire was still there— hot and coiled in her chest, begging for release— but she wouldn't let it out. Not now. Not unless Hiccup told her to.

Because she trusted him.

Dany stole a glance at him across the sky, just as he and Toothless hovered nearby. His brows were furrowed, sharp with focus, but his expression wasn't one of anger— it was resolve. He was planning, adjusting, staying three steps ahead. Regardless of when things went wrong or when he doubted himself, he kept moving forward. He kept them safe.

And right now, he was trying to do that without resorting to violence. Without bloodshed. Even though the hunters had crossed a line, even though any one of them would be justified in unleashing the full might of their dragons, Hiccup was still trying to do the right thing the right way.

That was one of the many reasons she admired him.

It wasn't just about his intelligence or his leadership. It wasn't just about his connection with Toothless or other dragons. It was who he chose to be, day after day. He could have become someone ruthless. He should have—  the world expected him to be. But, he hadn't. And because of that, he made her want to be better. Not weaker, not softer— but wiser.

The avalanche was a success. The riders were able to get the Snow Wraiths to safety while Hiccup took on Ryker. It would've been a completely triumphant end to the day, had Astrid not intervened and shouted the damning words: "Heather's with us!"

🏹🏹🏹

Dany's fury over the dragon hunters had not yet simmered down by the time they returned to Dragon's Edge. And now she wasn't the only angry one, either. Hiccup was clearly upset— enough that she could tell without difficulty. His jaw was tight and his green eyes were as hard and flinty as emeralds. Her own anger redoubled as Astrid shared the plan she'd concocted with Heather— Heather of all people! Quite possibly amongst the top three on Dany's shit list (with Ryker and Dagur being the first two.)

Sure, she knew now that Astrid held romantic feelings for the brunette, but still! She had kept the secret from all of them! The people who she was supposed to be able to trust more than anyone, who always had her back and were like family to her. But, apparently they weren't. Apparently, Heather was more important than them. Daenerys' hands curled into fists and she turned away from the blonde as she spoke, unable to so much as look at her.

She felt hurt. She was livid. She felt betrayed. So much for hers and Astrid's sister-like bond. Evidently, that meant nothing to her. Not in the face of the oh-so-great Heather, who somehow garnered everyone's respect and care without lifting a finger— something that Dany could never do. She had to work at her relationships. She struggled. She pushed herself out of her comfort zone over and over to meet her friends halfway. And what did they do in return? Turn around and stab her in the back.

"Dany? Would you say something?" Astrid's imploring voice broke through the storm within her. "Please?"

The Targaryen fought to take a deep breath. She had to consciously think about the action of breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. Then, in a tone of forced, barely-there calm, she enunciated clearly: "I. . . don't. . . think. . . I. . . should."

Astrid's shoulders tensed, but she didn't back off. Not this time. "You should, Dany," she insisted softly but firmly, stepping closer. "You can't just hold it all inside. I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but bottling it up isn't going to—"

That was it. The last match dropped into the powder keg.

"Don't tell me how to feel!" Dany exploded, spinning on her heel. Amongst the things she hated, someone telling her what to do (aside from battle commands and the like) was one of them. The more someone told her to do something, the more she dug her heels in and resisted. "You don't get to stand there and act like you care about my feelings after what you did! You lied to us! To me! You and Heather planned everything behind our backs like we were just some. . . some inconvenience. Like our trust didn't matter. Like I didn't matter!"

"It wasn't like that—" Astrid tried to cut in.

"Yes it was!" the Targaryen snarled, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You chose her. You chose her over me. Over us. You knew what those hunters were doing, Astrid. You knew, and you still helped her hide the truth. That's the same as helping them. You might as well have been standing next to Ryker with a dragon root arrow in your hand!"

"That's not fair—"

"No! You know what's not fair?" Dany's voice broke now, raw with emotion. "That I've spent years trying to be good enough for you guys. Trying to be worth something to this team, to this family. And the second it mattered, the second things actually got hard— you didn't trust me. You didn't even try."

Astrid looked like she'd been struck. Her mouth opened once, then closed, words refusing to come. Her eyes shimmered faintly in the firelight. She looked wrecked.

Dany's lip curled, eyes burning. "You don't get to ask me to talk and then expect to be let off easy just because you feel bad now. You broke something, Astrid. And I don't know if I can fix it."

Without another word, she turned and stomped out of the clubhouse. The wooden planks rattled under her bare feet. Eventually, they couldn't hear her wrath anymore but Hiccup could see her figure in the moonlight, making her way out to a distant cliff. Astrid remained frozen, her breath shaking. For all her strength and warrior's poise, she looked suddenly very small.

Toothless nudged his rider's hand reassuringly, as if sensing how torn he was. Hiccup stepped forward from where he'd lingered quietly near his dragon, eyes still hard, but not unkind. "She didn't mean all of that," he murmured. "She's hurting. But she will come around. It might take time, but she will."

"I don't know if she will this time," Astrid whispered, voice cracking. "I really messed up, Hiccup."

"I'll go talk to her," he proposed, pushing aside his own bruised feelings. He was their leader, after all, and a team divided could not stand. They needed to stand, now more than ever. He and Astrid alone were the ones who could reason with Dany's stubbornest moods, and with the Targaryen upset with the latter, he was the only one who had a chance at smoothing things over.

Toothless was easily able to track her scent to where the blonde had come to rest. She stood facing the sea, the wind blowing the silvery-blonde strands of her hair back from her face. Her shoulders were tense, her hands still clenched. It didn't look promising, but he had to try. Hiccup approached quietly, careful not to make his footsteps loud on the soft cliffside grass. Dany didn't turn when she heard him. He wasn't sure if she hadn't noticed, or just didn't care. He came to a stop beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. Toothless stayed a little ways back, watching quietly.

"I know you're still mad," he began gently, keeping his voice low, not wanting to spook her defenses up higher. He swallowed, eyes fixed on her back. "Astrid. . . didn't go about it the right way. I'm not trying to excuse that. Keeping the plan from you— keeping it from all of us— hurt. But the plan itself? It worked. Heather got us critical information that could change everything. She made the wrong call, but it came from the right place."

Dany stared at him, and he could see it— how the words just didn't register in the same way for her. Her brows drew together, as if the logic didn't make sense in a language she didn't speak.

"There is no 'right place' for lying to the people you love," she argued, voice low and trembling. She wasn't mad at Hiccup, she reminded herself. It was Astrid. Astrid caused this. "You don't get to do that and still claim you care about them. That's not love, that's not loyalty, that's—" She broke off, breathing harshly through her nose. "She betrayed us, but you've already forgiven her."

"I haven't forgiven her," Hiccup countered, trying to stay calm. It was hard, though. Dread was overtaking all his other emotions. "I'm just saying people make mistakes. I think you'd understand that better than anyone."

Wrong move.

Her laugh was short and harsh "Oh, do tell me how I would understand, Hiccup."

He hesitated but pressed on. "Because for three years, you took the fight to the dragon hunters in a way no one else was willing to. You went farther than the rest of us were comfortable with. You knew that, which is why you didn't tell us everything you did. But I forgave you— because I knew your heart was in the right place."

He didn't get a chance to regret the words. Fuck it. He dared bring that up in this context? She'd been willing to tamp down on her temper for his sake; she knew she could trust Hiccup. But then he went and threw something like that in her face? She'd been holding it in. For him. Gritting her teeth and biting down the worst of it because it was Hiccup. He was supposed to be her anchor in the chaos, the one person who wouldn't throw her off balance. And then he did. Her emotions were too big, too loud, too much to keep inside anymore. They needed out, and she didn't care who they hit. Dany turned like a storm breaking, eyes shining with fury and disbelief.

"You forgave me? I nearly lost myself out there," she hissed. "Do you think I wanted to become that person? I did what I had to do because no one else would. Because dragons were dying and no one was stopping it. But I never lied to you. I never stabbed you in the back!"

"I'm not saying what Astrid did was right—" Hiccup tried. He'd hoped he could talk her down; explain things in a way that she'd be able to understand. But that's not what Dany wanted right now. She wanted to fight, and he'd been the one willing to take the bait. They'd never fought before. Not really. Not like this.

Sure, they'd disagreed— he was methodical, she was impulsive. He liked to weigh options, she charged forward like a wildfire. But they always got each other, in the ways that mattered. She'd push too hard, he'd pull her back just enough. He'd overthink, she'd cut through it all with blunt honesty. It worked. It balanced.

Until now.

Dany didn't let him finish. "But you are saying it was understandable," she snapped, her voice beginning to fray at the edges. "You're saying I should just get over it because her heart was in the right place. Like that magically makes it okay!" Her eyes were glassy now, wild and hurt all at once. "She lied, Hiccup. She looked me— us— in the eye, and she lied. You don't come back from that."

He held her gaze, feeling himself beginning to fracture under the weight of her anger— anger that was now directed at him, all because he was trying to help. He wasn't helping because of Astrid! He just wanted to be there for Dany, to ease her pain, and all he'd done was gone and make everything worse. "I'm not asking you to get over it. I'm asking you not to throw everything away because you're hurting."

"Oh, so now I'm just being emotional?" she spat, spinning away from him. "You know what I thought, Hiccup? I thought you were on my side. Always. I trusted you. But now you're just another person asking me to tone it down, be less angry, less upset, less me— so the rest of you can feel better about what happened!"

Hiccup took a step closer, pained. "That's not what I'm saying—"

"You don't have to say it!" she burst out, tears springing to her eyes as her voice climbed to something shrill and wounded. "I get it! I've always gotten it! You're all okay with me when I'm useful. When I'm strong. When I'm making your lives easier. But the second I feel too much— the second I feel anything too loud or too long— you all start pulling away."

Hiccup felt like she'd punched him.

Dany's voice cracked fully now, something raw and terrified bleeding through her fury. "I'm 'too much.' I'm always too much, aren't I? That's what this is really about. My feelings, my madness, my quirks— it's too much for you to handle."

"No," Hiccup countered immediately, almost desperately. "That's not true. I didn't come out here to tell you to be less of anything, Dany—"

"Then why aren't you on my side?" she shouted. "Why didn't you fight for me the way I fight for you?!"

The words slammed into him like a blow. He couldn't answer. Not right away. Because truthfully, he did always take her side. But this— this had felt different. Like he had to put the mission first. Like someone had to be the calm in the storm.

Her lips trembled and she turned away again, roughly wiping her eyes. "I thought you were the one person who'd never make me feel like this," she whispered.

"Dany," Hiccup breathed, heart breaking. "Please don't say that."

Why didn't she understand? He hadn't come out here to pick sides. He'd come to be the bridge. To help her feel seen, heard, like she always deserved to be. But every word he'd spoken had landed wrong, like he was speaking in riddles she didn't want to solve. Like she was choosing not to hear him.

Hiccup clenched his jaw, a bitter pang swelling in his chest. He hadn't realized how much it would hurt. Dany lashing out— at him. Not because of some tactic disagreement, not over a failed scouting mission. No. This was deeper. Personal. Like she'd peeled back some part of herself that she normally kept hidden and thrown it at his feet, daring him to reject her, because she expected him to.

I'm too much. I'm always too much, aren't I?

That line cut deeper than anything else. It echoed in his mind, sad and sharp.

He had never— would never— see her as too much. But gods, she believed it. She believed it so deeply it came out of her like truth.

And suddenly he realized. . . this wasn't just about Astrid. This was about everything. Every time Dany had held back a meltdown. Every time she'd swallowed her thoughts because she didn't know how they'd be taken. Every time she'd wondered if she was worth the space she took up in this team, in his life. He'd never seen it before. Because she was strong. She was brave. She was Dany.

He looked out over the cliffside, the wind dragging his hair across his eyes, and something like guilt swelled within him. She needed him— not the leader. Not the diplomat. Just him. And he hadn't shown up in the way she'd needed. He'd tried to fix the mess when what she needed was someone to stand with her in it.

She didn't respond. Just stood there, hugging herself, before she turned away, avoiding his gaze, and left, probably to go back to her house. Hiccup took another step forward, but Toothless growled softly— warning him. Not at Dany. For her. She needed space.

He stopped and watched helplessly as, for the second time that night, she walked away from him. But this time, she wasn't storming off in anger. This time, she was walking away hurt. And that, Hiccup realized with a gut-deep ache, was so much worse.

A/n: okay! I hope the argument(s) here made sense. It kind of boils down to two parts. One, with her adhd, she has very all-or-nothing thinking. So, her mindset is always along the lines of 'them (Heather) or me.' And if someone hesitates or tries to convince her that it can be both, she automatically assumes that they chose 'them' over her, unless it's explicitly clear they sided with her. (Not the most reasonable thinking, obviously, but I think the Targaryen madness plays into it as well and clouds her more logical responses.) 

The second part is that Dany is being a hypocrite, but she doesn't see it that way. When she was tracking the dragon hunters in the south, she saw it as 'good (her) vs. bad (dragon hunters)' (again, the black-and-white reasoning.) She doesn't feel what she did was wrong, but was only hesitant to tell Hiccup/her friends because of how they would perceive her actions (which were very morally gray, just like Astrid lying for Heather.) She can accept her own actions, but doesn't understand when other people do similar ones.

And then, of course, there's her fear of her eccentricities being too weird to be accepted. Since it kind of cropped up earlier during her talk with Astrid, it was more predominately on her mind which is why she brought it up with Hiccup. (Which was probably even more poignant for him since he makes her things to help her cope with her differences, so he obviously doesn't think of her like that.)