Exile

Plans

Forty Two.

Hiccup awoke snuggled in Astrid's arms, warm and relaxed. He blinked twice before the pain hit him: his whipped back, his broken ribs, the horrible constant burning from his cut throat, the bruises on his neck, the residual pains from his lower half...but he was home and with his wife and somehow, it wasn't so bad. But as his eyes focussed and his mind began finally to work again, he found himself slipping back to Outcast Island.

He clutched at her and his eyes closed tight. He felt her stir but he couldn't help that: the memories crashed into him again and all he could see was Dagur and Savage and the guard who had tried to rape him and... His eyes snapped open. The dragons. He felt Astrid stir against him, blinking and yawning at his fearful embrace but he was able to force his limbs to relax because he was safe with Astrid. He kept chanting the words in his mind, kept trying to remind his shocked and traumatised brain that he was home and Dagur was defeated again.

But not permanently.

His mind floated back to the dragon cages...and the scared and beaten Whispering Death. That a dragon could sympathise with his plight, with his horrible pain, that had been inflicted upon him by fellow Vikings had curiously made him feel ashamed to be human. She had been badly hurt as well and he knew she hadn't deserve her pain any more he had. In fact, there were more similarities between her and him than he had realised: he had lost his mother and that dragon's hatchlings had been taken from her and used as weapons against Berk.

And one of them was looking for her.

He gave Astrid a gentle shake and her vivid azure eyes fluttered open. His heart leapt as she smiled at him. He knew he looked like a beaten slave but that she was here, sleeping with her arms around him, made him feel like a King. She smiled.

"How are you feeling?" she murmured. He managed a pained smile.

"Never better, Milady," he rasped. His voice was awful, strained and whispery. He had overstretched it talking to her the previous evening. "I was thinking..." And she smiled, her eyebrow rising in a challenge.

"Oh dear," she said with a smirk. "Now we're in trouble..." He blinked and then sighed.

"Very serious," he rasped. "You know we found the Screaming Death?" She nodded, stretching. "I know what it's looking for." She frowned. "I found its mother...on Outcast Island. And if we can get it to go to her..."

"It will tear Outcast Island apart-and bring Dagur down!" Astrid said excitedly, sitting up abruptly. Hiccup slid off her and hit the bed with a bang. He groaned. She looked down-and her face slipped into a mask of apology. He winced and clutched his head.

"Ow. Aren't I bashed enough for you?" he whined. She kissed his head immediately in apology and he snared her and pressed a tentative but very sincere kiss on her lips. "I forgive you," he teased her hoarsely. She pouted at him with a smile in her eyes.

"So demanding..." she sighed. He winced and achingly levered himself up to a very sore sitting position.

"I was wondered when you two lovebirds would wake!" a loud voice boomed and they looked up to see Stoick glancing across them from his seat by the fire where he was drinking a mug of mead and doing his morning whittling. As one, they both pulled the furs right up to their necks and flushed scarlet. The Chief burst out laughing. "Young love," he teased loudly. "Not that I haven't seen it all before, Hiccup..." The boy flushed even more red and stared in embarrassment at his lap.

"Dad..." he moaned, wanting the floor to swallow him up. "And you haven't seen Astrid..."

"Well..."