#soteaa

What am I going to do? he kept thinking, over and over to himself. Jack, Astrid, Toothless—they were all gone. The only person he might have left was his dad. Pitch had sworn to release Stoick from the shadows, hadn't he? And faeries couldn't lie.

…but faeries could find loopholes, and Pitch hadn't said anything about alive.

It was a long time before Hiccup finally managed a shuddering breath and forced himself to move. His limbs were stiff with the cold and disuse. He moved to wipe a snowflake off his face and discovered that he'd been crying at some point; the tears had dried into thin tracks of ice that flaked off his cheeks where his hand brushed them.

He drove Astrid's car to his own house, still numb.

The door opened with a long slow creak. Shadows fled at his approach as he moved one boot across the threshold. Hiccup barely heard them go. His eyes were fixed on a single point ahead of him.

A hand was splayed across the kitchen floor. It was stiff and unmoving like a dead rodent.

Hiccup's knees hit the floor in the kitchen of his childhood home. He looked down at his dad's body; it was stretched out in front of him, its eyes closed as though sleeping. There was a strange and distant keening noise, and after a long long time, Hiccup realized it was coming out of his own throat.

He grew silent.

He never meant for things to get this out of hand. He never meant for anything to go this far. He just wanted… he didn't know what he wanted. Not this.

He curled up next to the body on the hard laminate floor. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I did this. I did. I didn't mean to." He found the whole story coming out of him; he couldn't stop himself from talking between sobs. "It's real, it was all always real," he croaked, his voice thick. "There was this faery… this boy. He started following me weeks ago. I've always pretended that I couldn't see them, I just wanted my life to be as easy as possible… but Jack, he… he managed to distract me. He's…"

Thinking about Jack hurt, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop talking. He talked about Jack, then about dragging Astrid into his problems, about the wild hunt, the court, Pitch, the truth about his mother. He spend much longer talked than he would have expected; it felt like so much had happened to him, so much had changed since the last time he'd really talked to his dad, there was a lot to unload.

"And now he's gone," he said at last. "Everything is gone."

The noise that spilled from Hiccup's throat was a whimper like a wounded animal. He curled up over his father's body, forehead pressed to the still chest.

When he was a child and his mom, Val, had vanished, his father had spent a year looking for her, waiting for her to come home, but Hiccup had known—somehow, deep down—that she was never coming back. He'd felt it from the very beginning, from the moment he'd woken up on November first and come down the stairs to an empty house. A corresponding emptiness had opened up inside him, and he'd felt the weight of being a little more alone in the world settle into his chest.

His father hadn't accepted it so quickly. When Hiccup came into his parents' room that night, sniffling, choked up with tears and aching, Stoick had sent him back to his own room, saying he was being silly, Mom would be back soon. It was almost a week before Hiccup had done it again, creeping into the room when he thought his dad was asleep and crawling into his mom's side of the bed, hoping somehow it would feel like her.

It didn't. It was cold.

Stoick hadn't been asleep, either. When a weak sob escaped Hiccup, he stirred and Hiccup froze, going silent, afraid to be sent away again.

"Oh my boy," said Stoick, holding out his arm for Hiccup. His voice was half-sleepy, half-sad for his son. "Come here."

Hiccup clambered into his dad's embrace eagerly, and Stoick curled his arm around him and said, "Don't worry, we'll find her. Get some sleep."

For the year that Stoick looked for Val, waited for her, watched the news every morning and night, it became a habit. Every night Hiccup—face damp, tiny body trembling—would creep into bed with his dad and slowly fall asleep like that: fingers clinging to Stoick's ratty old t-shirt, curled up against his side in a tiny ball like a wounded kitten, comforted by the heavy weight of his dad's arm across his shoulders.

Jack was still half asleep with the hoodie pulled up over his nose where he'd snuggled into it. His eyes were half-open and bleary. When he saw Hiccup was awake, a slow, shy smile spread over his face—so unlike his usual mischievous grin, Hiccup couldn't help his own answering smile.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey," Jack answered. His voice was croaky with sleep.

Hiccup propped himself up, and Jack squawked as the covers slipped off, which Hiccup ignored. At some point, Toothless must have found them, because he lay curled up between the lump of their legs under the blankets, snoozing peacefully. "Hey buddy," said Hiccup groggily. Toothless let out a tiny purr of greeting and rolled his head against Hiccup's leg, his tail twitching happily.

The late morning light filtering inside was pale and diffused. They had left the window open the night before; a faint breeze puffed in, setting the window blind cords swaying back and forth.

"Oh." Hiccup blinked as a few flakes of snow drifted in and settled on his desk. He wasn't cold; on the contrary, he felt warm, the way he was supposed to feel in bed in the mornings. And that alone was weird, but when he glanced down at Jack, he could see the faint frost patterns that followed Jack everywhere encrusting the sheets. "Do you feel warm?"

"Uh… Not too much? I guess?" Jack gave him a confused look.

"But you don't feel cold?"

"No? Should I?"

"No, but you're a frost sprite."

"So?" Jack yawned, his nose crinkling up, and turned his face into the pillow.

"So, I don't feel cold. I feel warm. And it snowed, and the window has been open all night and you've gotten frost on the bed."

Jack's eyes slid toward the frost he'd left on the sheets. His expression grew more somber; when he turned his glittering blue eyes onto Hiccup, there was something sad, and a little lost, hidden in them. "Yeah," he said. "Weird things happen when you eat the food of the fair folk."

Toothless chirped agreement.

"…right," said Hiccup weakly. He fell back on the bed and curled up again with his forehead pressed against Jack's chest. Jack draped a lazy arm over him. "Will I ever feel normal again?"

"I don't know," said Jack. He pulled the blankets back over their heads and closed his eyes again.

After a long moment, Hiccup mumbled, "Astrid's probably going crazy…well, crazier…wondering where I am. We should head back."

Jack groaned. "…fine."

Before they left, Hiccup took the opportunity to go through his own stuff. He got dressed like a normal human again, with boots for the snow and his favorite jacket layered over another old comfy hoodie. He packed some extra clothing to keep at Astrid's house for a while, and he looked around his room one more time. When he would be able to come home to it again?

They snuck back out the window and walked to Astrid's.

The driveway at Astrid's only held Astrid's car; her parents' were gone. They were able to walk in the front door. Hiccup pulled his sleeve over his hand to grasp the metal doorknob.

"I kinda thought she'd be waiting for us," said Jack, as the door clicked shut behind them. "Like she'd have her face pressed to the windows looking for something. Is that weird?"

"Yeah…" said Hiccup slowly. "I mean, no. That sounds like Astrid." He glanced around. If she'd gone out to look for him, surely she would have taken her car? And surely his own house would have been one of the first places she'd look? Unless she was at the library or the school…but the car…

Toothless ran off. His paws made little pad-pad-pad sounds on the floors as he raced through the rooms looking for Astrid, and then trotted back to Hiccup, mewing distress.

They went upstairs. Her room was empty. Hiccup dumped his bag in her closet and looked around. The bed was unmade, but it was cold. There was a used coffee mug Hiccup recognized from two days ago sitting on the bedside table with half-dried dregs in the bottom of it. The window was cracked open, and snowflakes had built up into a drift on the sill overnight and part of it was melting down the wall.

"She has the eye serum with her," Hiccup noted. He'd left it sitting on the desk by the coffee, but it was gone now.

"She's… not here?" Jack stared around in confusion. He toed at the snow-puddles and turned them into ice patches on the hardwood.

Hiccup went to the window, opened it all the way, and leaned out. From here he could see the garage, and specifically, the window to the room above it, where's Astrid's 'secret' workshop was; that window was dark and still. She wasn't in the workshop either.

"Is she at the school place?"

"It's… just school." Hiccup shook his head and shut the window. "And her car's still here. Unless she took the bus for some reason…"

"Why would she take the bus?"

Hiccup bit his lip, trying to squash the uneasy feeling that was rising in his chest. "Maybe… she left it for me? In case I came back and needed to use it for some reason?"

"Would she do that?"

Hiccup had never driven Astrid's car and he didn't even have a permit. He shook his head. "No, she wouldn't." With a sigh, he sunk down on her mattress. He sat on something hard; when he fished around in the blankets, his hand found something smooth and cool. It was Astrid's phone. He pushed the power button, but it was dead.

Astrid hadn't been home.

"She hasn't been here," he said, his voice too quiet, too level. Suddenly, the stillness of the house felt awful. Oppressive and damning. "Where would she go?"

Jack curled his hands into his hoodie pocket. "You would know better than I would."

"What do you think happened to her?" Hiccup tried to keep his voice from shaking.

"What do you mean?"

"Like… do you think one of the fair folk did something to her?"

Jack's mouth thinned into an anxious line. "Not while she was here. Not if I know anything about Astrid. You think she'd just let that happen?"

"No. She doesn't 'just let' anything happen," said Hiccup with a reluctant smile.

"Exactly."

Astrid's phone was heavy in Hiccup's palm, cold with disuse. He kept wiping his own fingerprints off the screen. He should have come back here yesterday, should have come back and waited for her to come home from school. Where could she possibly be? She never would have been a part of this whole mess if it weren't for him. She would have been living a nice normal human life—the kind of life Hiccup had to admit had never been a possibility for him—but instead she'd stuck with him through weirdness and insanity and magic, and now she was… missing.

"Jack," said Hiccup in a low voice, "would Pitch take Astrid? Would he have any reason to?"

Jack stood in the middle of the room, fiddling with the aglets on his hoodie drawstring. "I… Yes. I think he might."

"But… Why?" Bubbling with frustration, Hiccup stood and pace around the room, pressing his hands against the wide of his head. "Why her? What did she ever do to him?"

"It's getting close to Samhain; he…" Jack licked his lips, thinking. A faraway look crept into his eyes. "He'd be getting desperate. There's not much time left; the sacrifice must take place tomorrow night. Technically, he could take any human from Berk—the victim need only be a creature of free will. But he wants you now that he knows about you and your sight. But if he can't get to you, someone close to you or I would be a bonus to him, a small way to get back at us for all the inconvenience we're causing him."

"Inconvenience?" Hiccup snorted. "Is that what he thinks of us?"

"Yep."

"Ugh." Hiccup made a noise of disgust and curled his lip. "How does Pitch get away with taking so many people from Berk?"

"He himself doesn't take all who go missing." Jack shrugged when Hiccup cast him an unamused look. "He only requires a victim every seven years."

Seven years?

Hiccup went very still; his mouth dried up. "…Jack?" he rasped. "What did you just say? How long ago was the last sacrifice?"

Jack blinked at Hiccup, confused by his reaction. "Seven years ago. Why?"

Oh god. It had been under his nose the entire time, but he hadn't… he'd never even… He fourced out the word: "My mother disappeared seven years ago. On halloween."

Hiccup could see the moment Jack realized what was happening, what had happened. The blood drained from Jack's face. He didn't say anything. He shrunk away from Hiccup, shame creeping into his eyes.

Hiccup knew it wasn't Jack's fault. He knew there was no point in asking or accusing or even talking about it right now, but he couldn't stop himself. It tumbled out of him. "Jack," he said again, his voice low and dangerous. "Did you bring my mother to Pitch to be sacrificed?"

"I…" Jack's voice trailed away. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I can't remember."

"Jack."

"It would make sense," Jack said in a rush. "The timing is right. And if she had the Sight, as you do, she'd be a powerful victim for the teind."

"Why is that so important?!" Hiccup deflated, shoulders slumping as he ran a hand over his face. Maybe everything that had happened to him had been unavoidable. Maybe his path and Jack's path had been intertwined for far longer than he'd thought—maybe they'd crossed seven years ago and been on the same trajectory ever since.

"The Sight?" Jack made a noise that was half groan, half thoughtful hum. "I don't understand how the old magic works—I don't think anyone really does. It defies explanation. But I know a sighted victim makes Pitch more powerful. Like it's an extra layer of magic he absorbs or something."

"So she really has been dead for the last seven years." Hiccup stared out the window, where he could just make out the tops of some evergreens brushing the brumous sky. A pit opened up in his stomach, hollow and dark. It was hard to admit, but there had always been a small part of him that hoped she was still alive somewhere—whether under the hill in the folk realm or in another town somewhere that she'd run away to—and that he'd be able to see her again. Maybe even bring her back home and make his dad happy again. He felt stupid now, but more than that, he felt wounded.

"I'm sorry." Jack's face crumpled.

"We don't have to go through this again."

"I…" Jack sputtered and fell silent.

"I'll get your memories back." Hiccup's voice hardened. "I promised. And I'll find out what happened to her, one way or another. And I know none of this was your fault, okay? You don't have to apologize every time somethings new comes up that you don't remember."

One corner of Jack's mouth twisted into a sad smile. "Yeah, I might never stop if I did." He let out a harsh laugh, scraping his hands through his hair as a crazy look came into his eyes. "Gods, I should never had talked to you in that library."

Startled, Hiccup went to Jack and pulled Jack's hands away from his face. "Whoa, stop. If you hadn't, I never would have met you. Besides, it's too late now to change it. Let's just focus on fixing what went wrong, okay?"

Jack stared down at the floor as he chewed his lip and didn't meet Hiccup's eyes. His body was a stiff line of tension; he was wound tight, feet rooted to the floor. Hiccup pulled on his hands and he stiffened at first, but after a moment, he breathed in, nodded once, and relaxed. "Okay. Okay. You're right. How are we going to find Astrid?"

Hiccup let him go, and as he did so, he caught sight of something glittering on the bedside table.

It was a dagger. As soon as he picked it up he knew she'd made it for him; it fit his hands perfectly, the weight of it comforting and solid. He could feel the metal through the sheath, and it made his skin prickle and his nerves sing like pins and needles. She had used cold iron.

It was beautiful. The blade honed to shining perfection, the handle made of heavy ebony and carved with Celtic knots that continued partway down the blade itself, where Astrid had inlaid it with gold leaf. Even the sheath was beautiful, a deep red leather with a matching Celtic knot design on the sides. How much time had Astrid spent on this? When had she had the time? A knot formed in his throat thinking about how much she must have pushed herself to get it done.

"I wonder when she left this…" he murmured.

"Hiccup." Jack's voice, heavy with fear, pulled Hiccup away from admiring Astrid's handiwork. He sheathed the blade and tucked it into his waistband. Jack stood at the window, staring out at the drive. When Hiccup joined him, he saw the problem.

Among the ever-present loitering fey on the other side of the gate stood several tall dark figures. It took Hiccup a moment to recognize the menacing, sinuous forms; but when one shifted and he caught the glimmer of its golden glowing eyes in hollow sockets, he remembered with a shiver: he'd seen them on the night Jack had swept him off his roof and carried him into town because it started pouring and they'd taken shelter in McDonalds.

Fearlings.

But that night, the Fearlings had come for him en masse, and they'd been formless in their ranks, like a tidal wave of darkness the swept over everything. These few stragglers alone looked different: skeletal and haunted and inhumanly tall.

"What are they doing?" Hiccup whispered.

"I don't know," Jack whispered back. "I'd heard that Pitch lost control of them, and they'd begun acting independently. I don't understand."

"You think they're here… independently?" Goosebumps had risen on Hiccup's arms while he was standing there under the watchful gaze of the Fearlings. They didn't approach; they studied the house silently. All the other fey left a wide space around them. "Do you think they'll go away? I don't want to go out there with them watching."

"I can't blame you," said Jack heavily. "Let's wait a minute and see what they do."

Hiccup put his hands on the window and slid it shut, one slow inch at a time, trying not to make any loud noises that would attract the attention of the Fearlings. He and Jack stood and watched them, close enough to the glass pane that Hiccup's breath fogged the glass. Jack edged back, pulling on Hiccup's sleeve, but Hiccup was unable to tear himself away from the window.

One of the Fearlings moved its head, its body still but curling like a column of smoke, and Hiccup caught again the shine of its eyes as it looked up at him. "They're curious," he said suddenly. He didn't know how he knew they were curious, but he could feel it, a whisper in the back of his mind. What are you?

"What?"

"They're looking for me," Hiccup continued. "They want to know about me. That's why they're checking out the house. They…know I come here a lot."

Jack stared at him in silence. When Hiccup turned to look at him, Jack's gaze was alarmed and confused. "How do you know that?"

Hiccup shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe I'm wrong. It's just a…weird feeling that I have."

"I don't like it," said Jack at once. "I don't really understand what's happening to you, but this is not normal.

"None of this is normal. What are we going to do about it?"

He turned back to the window and locked eyes with the Fearling who was staring at him. After a moment, it nodded once, then turned, shifted into smoke, and vanished on the breeze.

Jack, at Hiccup's shoulder, let out a breath and tugged on the back of Hiccup's jacket. "Let's leave before more come."

Hiccup retrieved the spare key to Astrid's car from its secret spot in her bookshelf. They rushed downstairs and peered out the front door to make sure the Fearlings weren't moving in before they went outside. They both burned their hands opening the car doors.

"Where are we going?" asked Jack. He still looked like a scared rabbit, his eyes wild, his shoulders hunched.

Hiccup turned the key in the ignition. Astrid's music blared to life, rattling the car with the sound of Young Heretics, and Hiccup jammed the off button. He put her car into reverse a bit nervously; he technically knew how to drive, but he didn't exactly have a lot of experience with it. "We'll start at the school," he decided. "I'm…pretty sure it's a weekday. If she's not there, I'll find a way to talk to her friends. Maybe someone has seen her." An undercurrent of panic still hung around in his ribcage, but he pushed it down and focused on a plan of action.

"Sure," said Jack. He was holding onto his seat tight enough to whiten his knuckles. He looked like he wasn't even hearing what Hiccup was saying. "Gods, I hate cars."

"I'll roll the windows down."

They sped into town and headed to the high school with Jack holding his head halfway out the window. Hiccup parked on the side of the street where there was room, and they got out. Jack took deep breaths of the outside air. There were dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm okay," he said weakly.

Hiccup knew how he felt. He was a little nauseous too; the air in the car smelled like metal and chemicals, and it sickened him. Toothless didn't seem to mind it; Hiccup held the door open and waited for him to jump out, but Toothless stuck one paw in the snow and immediately retreated back into Astrid's car.

"Alright, guard the car then," said Hiccup, shaking his head at Toothless. Toothless just twitched his tail and curled up on the seat.

It was snowing again, giant fluffy flakes that piled up on the ground fast. The one inch of snow they'd gotten overnight had already turned into several more inches. Hiccup was glad that he'd thought to grab his boots that morning.

"Come on," he said to Jack. He zipped his jacket up and took Jack's hand, lacing their fingers together. As they began to trek across the parking lot, a blanketing fog rolled in, tendrils of mist curling through the cars and lamp posts. It muffled all noise until Hiccups boots crunching the snow down seemed loud.

"Does it seem quiet to you?" said Jack, his voice hushed.

Hiccup cast a glance over his shoulder. He was feeling it too; the unnatural silence that sent a shiver down his spine. Something was off. It took him a minute to figure it out, but when he did, it raised hairs on the back of his neck. "It's empty," he said. A sluggish breeze dragged across the lot, pushing the snowflakes around. Eddies and currents of snow flowed over the asphalt. The fog was getting thick. "There's not a single other faery in sight." Folk had been in the background of every moment for his entire life in Berk. Now, there wasn't a single one, and the empty space they left behind was ominous and haunting. "Where are they?"

Jack's grip on Hiccup's hand tightened. "I don't know, but I don't like–fuck!"

It happened so fast. One moment they were walking hand in hand toward the buildings; the next moment, dark figures on black horses surround them on all sides and hemmed them in. These weren't Fearlings. They were knights, tall aós sídhe in sleek black armor, carrying spears and swords. The knights lowered their weapons at Jack and Hiccup in complete silence, and they stopped in their tracks.

A lump formed in Hiccup's throat and he swallowed against it uselessly. "Oh."

Jack's face went blank. "Pitch," he said hollowly. He turned to Hiccup, squeezing his hand one more time. "Hiccup, listen. Whatever happens next… I'm sorry."

Jack still couldn't disobey a direct order from his master.

Hiccup nodded, trying to keep the fear he felt from showing on his face. "I know." He squeezed Jack's hand back. "It's okay, Jack. I know."

The knights parted. An enormous black horse, more shadow than flesh, approached. It was darkness made corporeal, void wrapped over bones and sinew, and the ether of it evaporated into the winter wind like black smoke, churning and trailing away. Pitch sat atop its back. He was wearing a wide, cold smile.

Hiccup had only seen the Shadow King once from a distance. Up close, he was horrifying, his skin a sickly mottled grey, his eyes a dull yellow. With him, he brought the smell of death and rot that even the wind couldn't carry away.

"Well, Jack." Pitch looked down at them, his eyes glittering with frozen rage. "Your little game of hide and seek is over. You've had your fun. You know, I had quite a time hunting you down."

Jack bared his teeth in a grimace. "Happy to entertain. How did you find us?"

With the stamping of hooves, the knights shuffled, revealing another faery who was cringing behind Pitch. He was prodded forward with a spear in the back. "Get off me!" he snarled. He came forward. It was sharp-teeth, the same faery that Hiccup and Astrid had encountered in front of the library. Not the one who had baited Astrid so effectively; the one blue all over.

"What are you doing here?!" Hiccup snapped. "I thought you weren't part of the court!"

Sharp-teeth leered at them. "I'm not, but after this I will be. As for how we found you… well, your little girl friend has been spending some time among the fair folk. She was quite the center of a glorious party last night. What do you think of that?"

Furious, Jack leapt at him in a flash of blue and white anger. Before anyone could do anything, his fist had connected with sharp-teeth's jaw with a dull thud, and sharp-teeth was sprawled out on the ground, Jack on top of him, raining down blows. The knights looked on with expressions of distaste.

"Be still," ordered Pitch, and Jack froze in place. Unable to move, he trembled, and his eyes flashed their contained rage. Sharp-teeth spat blue-grey blood into the snow and shoved Jack off of him. Pitch looked down his nose at them both. "So inelegant," he sniffed coolly. "You've spent too much time with humans. It's clear how much you've spoilt. Now. Stand up and stay still."

Jack rose stiffly and stood at attention, his hands trembling and restrained at his sides. "Where's Astrid?!" he spat at sharp-teeth. "What did you do with her, you miserable groveling little—?!"

"And stop talking," said Pitch, cutting Jack off. Jack's words were swallowed up mid-sentence, and he stood with his mouth opening and closing like a fish, fuming silently.

"She's busy elsewhere," snarled sharp-teeth. There was blood trickling down his face; he wiped it away with the back of his hand, glaring up at Jack sulkily. "She should be the least of your worries right now."

Jack's eyes were full of murder.

Pitch gave his knights a nod, and the two at the forefront dismounted and seized Hiccup before Hiccup could gather his wits together. They twisted his arms behind his back and held him tight. He couldn't move without hurting himself. Something sharp—a knife or spear point—pressed against his ribcage painfully. He sucked in a breath.

"No!" Jack cried. He was shaking in place. "Let him go!"

"I thought I told you to be quiet," said Pitch.

"You said to stop talking," said Jack, "and I did. And now I'm starting again! Let Hiccup go!"

Pitch rolled his eyes at Jack as he dismounted his horse. "This has gone on long enough, I think," he said. "It was amusing at first, but I am through indulging you."

"I'll come back," said Jack desperately. "I'll be obedient. Whatever you want. Let me make you a deal."

Pitch laughed at that. "A deal? From you? I already own you. There's nothing you have that you can offer me."

Jack tried once more, speaking through gritted teeth. He was rigid with frustration, seething with it. "There must be something I can—"

"No." Pitch cut him off. He bent over Jack, cupping his face with one hand. Jack flinched. "You don't seem to understand, Jack. I am past the point of toying with you. You've been a nuisance long enough."

Pitch, Hiccup realized, didn't intend for Jack to live past his disobedience.

The knowledge of it settled into Hiccup's stomach, a deep penetrating cold that weighed him down. He saw the moment Jack understood, too: the hope went out of his eyes. He flicked his gaze to Hiccup and then away, back to Pitch. He licked his lips. "Fine," he said slowly. "Kill me. Torture me. Do whatever you want. Just let Hiccup go, please."

"No!" Hiccup struggled against his captors but pain shot up his arms.

"I don't have to listen to this," said Pitch to Jack, completely ignoring Hiccup. "Be silent and stay silent this time." Jack went quiet. Pitch straightened up, towering over Jack, and held his hand out. "Take it," he demanded. Hiccup twisted to see what Pitch held and caught the dull shine of cold metal: an iron blade, not beautiful like Astrid's gift, but twisted and cruel.

Jack took it. His face had become a blank mask. He remained impassive as the metal burned his hand with a soft hiss. The sound was swallowed up by the wind.

"Jackson Overland Frosti," Pitch began. He was smiling, an eerie uncomfortable smile that looked wrong on his pointed face. "I sentence you to death. With this blade, I command you to take your own life within the next sixty seconds."

Still blank, still emotionless, Jack turned the blade on himself. He shut his eyes softly and laid it against his own throat, his flesh hissing and spitting, turning red under the metal. His lips moved silently. A prayer? A plea? No one could hear.

Hiccup let out a scream and fought to get to Jack, but it was useless. One of the knights struck him on the back of his knees and he collapsed, his kneecaps sinking through the snow and hitting the asphalt hard enough to bruise.

The point of the knife, dull as it looked, was still sharp enough to draw blood as Jack pressed it harder into his throat.

"Wait!" Hiccup choked out. "What about me? I'll make you a deal!"

"Stop." Pitch raised a hand and Jack stopped. Blood welled out around the blade and trickled down his neck. Pitch turned toward Hiccup as everyone stared; behind Pitch, Jack shook his head and mouthed words at Hiccup. No. Stop. Please don't do this. "What kind of deal?" Pitch asked slowly. There was a cunning gleam in his eyes.

Hiccup licked his lips. What could he possibly have to offer the faery king of the shadow court that he couldn't take by force? He had to try something. "Free Jack. And free Astrid. Take me instead." At least then Jack and Astrid would be safe.

Pitch chuckled. "Trade this stubborn traitor and the other human plaything for you? And what will you offer me to make that tempting?"

"I…" Hiccup racked his brain. What did faeries value? Their currency was all riddles and promises, free will and servitude. "I'll come with you willingly."

"Hardly enough to tempt me."

"What do you want, then?"

Pitch fell silent. He came closer and loomed over Hiccup, menacing and thoughtful, and took Hiccup's chin between his fingers to study his face. "Why do you do this?" he asked at last. "Has my little pet put you under his spell?"

"Does it matter why?" Hiccup met Pitch's gaze and refused to look away.

"Hmmm. I see you've eaten our fruit." Hiccup's heart rained nervous beats, but Pitch said nothing else about the fey changes in Hiccup. He withdrew and ran a hand over his chin thoughtfully. "I'll take your deal," he announced. "And I'll even do you one better. I want you to give up your true Sight to me."

"My sight?" Hiccup couldn't stop the note of shock that crept into his voice. "Why?"

"Does is matter why?" Pitch echoed Hiccup's words mockingly. His eyes, thin yellow slits, cast him a scornful glance. "A willful sacrifice is always more powerful than an unwillful one. Here is the deal I offer you: you give up your sight, and I will release Jack from his oath to the court and leave you here unharmed. You can go back to your mortal life, normal and un-sighted."

Pitch didn't know about the serum. Good; Astrid had somehow managed to keep that secret. It was better than Hiccup had hoped; it gave him a chance to find Astrid and the serum and come after Jack. If he was careful they would all still come out of this.

Hiccup swallowed and tried to will himself calm. This was his one chance to fix everything, maybe even get his life back. He couldn't let anything slip by. "And what about Astrid?"

Pitch's gaze slid sideways toward sharp-teeth, who was still lurking behind him looking pissed-off. There was a question in that look. Sharp-teeth squirmed and gave Pitch a small nod. "She is free to go back to her own life," said Pitch.

"And my father?" asked Hiccup. "What about him? Will you take the infection out of him?"

"Your father?" Pitch frowned. "Ah yes. I take it that is the man under my shadows." He heaved a bored sigh. "I will withdraw all my shadows from Berk, including those that have infected anyone there. Your father will be left alone. Will that satisfy you?" Pitch smiled politely at him, and Hiccup stared.

There must be something he was missing, some catch he couldn't think of. Everything he wanted was within reach–Astrid, his father, Jack's freedom–but it was too easy. When he looked at Jack, Jack was standing behind Pitch and shaking his head furiously, mouthing warnings at Hiccup. Don't do it.

What was he missing?

"Do we have a deal?"

Hiccup's eyes flicked between Pitch and Jack, his heart thundering in his throat. Jack was still shaking his head; furious tears streaked his face, and his eyes were pleading with Hiccup. Please please please please please… his lips moved. Hiccup shut his eyes and steeled himself. It was worth it if it would save Jack.

"My offer will not last long," Pitch pressed him.

"I…"

"You have three seconds." Pitch held up three fingers. "One…" He put a finger down. "Two..."

"Deal!" Hiccup set his jaw and looked up at Pitch. "It's a deal."

A wicked grin split Pitch's face. "Done," he agreed. He held out a long bony hand, and Hiccup shook it, his own hand dwarfed in Pitch's clammy grasp. A wave of electricity—that raw, static feeling Hiccup had woken up with—pulsed through the air. Hiccup felt it in his chest, and it stole his breath away.

He tried to pull back, but Pitch didn't let go of his hand. His grip tightened until Hiccup's knuckles felt like they were grinding together.

He yanked Hiccup forward, hard, and Hiccup fell to his knees again with a sharp cry. Pitch's thumb pressed into his forehead between his eyes, and it hurt, it was burning him and stabbing. Pain swelled in his head. It felt like his brain was bloating. Blackness burst across his vision. Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth together, willing himself not to scream, not to whimper, not to make a sound. Not where Pitch and Jack could hear him.

"Wonderful." Pitch's voice was gravel in Hiccup's ear, speaking low so that only Hiccup heard him over the roaring in his head. "You have so much power in you. You've held up your end of the bargain, so your father will be freed from the shadows and Jack is no longer bound to his oath. As you wished."

Through the waves of pain and rushing darkness, relief flooded Hiccup. He'd done it. He'd fixed everything.

But Pitch wasn't done. "You'll have your father and your friend… whatever state they're in. We'll see what I do with Jack, but he won't see Berk again. It's too bad you didn't say what condition you wanted them in when they were freed. Human error, I suppose."

"No!" Hiccup's eyes flew open, but it was already too late.

The pressure, the pain, and the blackness lifted from him, puffed out of existence like a candle extinguished. He was alone in the snowy high school parking lot, breathing fast. He scrambled to his feet, looking wildly around, swinging his arms to feel for anyone unseen, but it was useless. All that was left were the cars, the snow drifts, the silence. Not another voice to be heard. Not another living being to be seen. Complete peace for the first time in his life, and he hated it with every piece of his soul.

"Jack!" he called. There was no response. Even the wind had quieted. "Jaaaaaaaack!"

Snowflakes fell silent all around him, cold and uncaring. Flake upon flake, they blanketed cars, piled against curbs, and erased all footsteps, until it was an untouched world. Until it was like no one had ever been there.

He glanced over his shoulder, seeking the familiar, comforting sight of Toothless at his heels, but Toothless was gone.

His feet made no noise as he approached the house. He climbed onto the porch railing and managed to hoist himself onto the roof. The gutter scraped up his hands and his forearms but he barely noticed. He crept toward his room. The curtains were open, the lights off. The smooth glass window pane reflected his own face back at him and for a moment, it startled him. It was streaked and pale. Somehow he'd expected to see something else staring back at him. Something less human.

The window was still open just a crack, and he jammed his fingers into the slot to pry it up the rest of the way. The metal frame burned his skin. He jerked his hands back, biting down hard into his lip to keep from crying out.

Well. So that was new.

So he wasn't even human anymore. His throat tightened. He stared at his red-seared hands and rubbed at the marks even as they faded away, leaving his skin smooth and unblemished. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the window open, letting his skin hiss and scorch. The pain would pass, and right now it felt like the only thing was keeping him real.

Hiccup snuck into his own bedroom and lowered himself to the floor carefully.

The room was still. Everything was exactly the same as he'd left it, perfectly preserved, untouched. He slipped in with the soft sound of clothing brushing over the window sill, and his feet hit the floor noiselessly. His blankets lay crumpled on the bed exactly where he'd left them the night he snuck out to the court with Jack. He crawled under them, pulled them over his head, and curled up in a tight little ball like he was just a child, inhaling the scent of fresh laundry and dust.

He wanted to sleep.

He just wanted to sleep.

But the thoughts that he'd been running from all day finally caught up with him, and there was nowhere else he could go, no place he could hide. He screwed his eyes up to shut out the world, but he couldn't shut out the memories. And the memories hurt. It had been so long but it still hurt.

Because his mother had abandoned him.

Because she never loved him enough to stay.

He'd never been good enough to keep her here; he was just a broken, fucked up runt of a kid, just something that had tied her to a boring mortal life. He was a liability, a responsibility, a burden she'd never asked for. So when the otherworld had offered her a way out, she'd taken it, and Hiccup couldn't really blame her.

Not when he felt so tempted to follow in her footsteps.

Shame simmered in his chest. He felt frozen, his throat closed. He lay there and let the pain wash over him, and he lost track of time.

A rushing wind. The soft padding of bare feet. The edge of the mattress sinking under someone's weight.

"Hiccup? Hiccup?!"

Jack was there, shaking Hiccup through the covers, his voice high with panic. Hiccup rolled over and let Jack pull the blankets off his face without resistance.

"Oh thank the gods." Jack went limp, pressing his forehead against Hiccup's chest. "For a moment I thought you were…nevermind, nevermind. What are you doing here? I've been looking for you."

Hiccup couldn't speak.

"Hiccup?" Jack sat back up and examined Hiccup closer. Then he really noticed Hiccup's expression. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing." Hiccup's voice came out flat. Empty. "Go away. I'm just…tired."

"You're…lying," said Jack softly. He sounded almost awed by it.

Hiccup couldn't speak. The heavy feeling in his chest was expanding, pressing down on him. It tightened his throat and threatened to spill out of him, and he didn't want Jack to see him like this, an ugly awful mess of feelings. He tried to take a deep breath without trembling. "No, I'm…fine," he managed to say. Something tickled Hiccup's cheek and realized, to his horror, that he was already crying. He turned his face away.

Jack touched his shoulder carefully. "Hic—Hiccup?" His voice shook with an emotion that Hiccup couldn't name and his eyes grew stormy. "Who did this to you?" he asked through gritted teeth. His brows drew low. He fisted his hands in Hiccup's shirt and leaned over him in a protective crouch, eyes cataloging every move of Hiccup's face. "Did Pitch get to you?"

Hiccup shook his head. Jack's eyes on him were burning, intense. Please, just stop looking at me.

"Then…what…?" Jack trailed off, still studying Hiccup intently. "…Why…?"

Hiccup squirmed. "It's nothing," he croaked. "It's not important."

Jack's face settled into an unhappy scowl. "Not important?! You're crying!" His hands, still fisted in Hiccup's shirt, were shaking—whether with anger or fear or something else, Hiccup couldn't tell

Hiccup took a deep breath. "I…talked to some of the fair folk today."

Something in Jack's eyes sparked. "What did they do?" he growled.

"They didn't do anything."

That knocked Jack back for a moment. "Then…" he fumbled. "What's wrong?"

Hiccup was silent for a long moment, trying to pull his thoughts together into something coherent. His chest still felt heavy; when he put a hand to his face there were still slow tears rolling down his skin.

"Hiccup, please," Jack begged. "You're scaring me."

"Okay." Hiccup took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on the ceiling behind Jack. "After you left and Astrid was still gone," he began, his voice shaking, "I went out for a walk. I ran into some of the folk, and I recognized them. From the night we were in the court. They said they'd been banished here, just for talking to me. And there were some other folk, and I just started talking to them, and there was this one…this one who acted like he knew my mother."

"What…" Jack's voice was faint with shock. "One of my people? He said he knew your mother?"

Hiccup nodded. "It said that she had abandoned me to live with them under the hill. It said…" Hiccup's voice broke; he paused to take a breath and steady himself. "It said that she didn't care enough to…stay with me." He fell silent, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

Jack had been crouched over him, but now he slumped so that his chin rested on Hiccup's head. Jack let out a huff that ruffled Hiccup's hair. "Hiccup…" He squeezed Hiccup and Hiccup found himself curling into him automatically.

Hiccup closed his eyes; at least Jack wasn't staring at him now, but this was almost as bad. He was getting Jack's hoodie wet, but at least it was easier to keep talking this way. Everything was starting to spill out. "I'm just a little runt," Hiccup gritted. "It happens all the time in nature; mothers abandon their defective offspring—"

"No," said Jack fiercely. "You're not defective—not in any way."

"It's okay." Hiccup's voice was muffled. "I know what I am. I know it happens—humans go down to the faery realms, they fall in love—"

"With a faery?!" Jack stiffened. "Is that—are you going to—um…"

"No, not that… I…" He swallowed. "I mean, humans in the otherworld…we're so easily enchanted, and we fall in love with the magic and the—the—everything. Who would choose a human—the human world—over the aós sí?"

"But you're okay," said Jack. "You're here and you're okay, right? What are you afraid of?"

I don't want you to leave.

"Stop." Hiccup sat up and pushed Jack off him. He needed the space; it was hard to think—hard to breathe—with Jack so close to him, especially since Jack had straddled his legs when he'd climbed on top of him. A cold wind puffed through the window; it chilled Hiccup, and when he scrubbed at his wet face, his hand brushed away ice crystals.

Jack bit his lip. He moved back onto his heels, his hands limp in his lap. "Sorry, I… can't keep you warm. Just cold." His fingers flexed nervously.

Hiccup just shook his head. "I don't notice anymore."

Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know anything about mothers," he admitted slowly, "or anything about what having one of those is like, but…I can't…it's hard to imagine anyone would want to abandon you. On purpose."

Bitterness bubbled up in Hiccup; Jack was going to leave, he was going to abandon Hiccup, too. Wasn't that what he wanted the memories for? To escape Berk and everything in it? He let out an incredulous laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't."

"What?"

Hiccup had to grit his teeth together to keep his voice steady as he forced himself to keep looking steadily at Jack. His hands balled up into fists at his sides. "Isn't that what you want?" he asked. "To be free to leave? I mean, isn't that why we're doing," he motioned vaguely. Another wave of hot, frustrated tears spilled out of his eyes. "…all of this?"

Jack looked like Hiccup had slapped him. He reeled for a moment, gaping at Hiccup; then his expression hardened. He folded his arms. "Well it's not like I want you to want me to leave!" he snapped.

"What?" There's no way, Hiccup thought, that I heard that correctly. He glared at Jack."What is that even supposed to mean? You want me to leave?" His head felt foggy and panic locked his limbs. Did Jack really not want anything to do with him?

"No—"

"I mean—" Hiccup struggled to fix the phrasing. "You…want me to want you to leave? Or to want you to want to leave? That doesn't—"

"That's not what I—"

"Then what are you trying to say?! What's wrong with me?!"

"Look, you're the one who made me promise—"

"So this is my fault?" Hiccup's face flushed with anger.

"No!"

"Just say it," said Hiccup, scowling, fists still balled up. He had so much fear and hurt swirling around in him and he didn't know where to put it. "Just spit it out. Say it's my fault and you're leaving as soon as I can find the memories, like I promised. Say it!"

But Jack was hopelessly shaking his head. "No. No—"

"Why not?!"

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE! I LOVE YOU!"

Ringing silence.

Hiccup stared at Jack, mouth hanging half open. Jack's eyes went wide and terrified, his face stark white. He clapped both hands over his mouth, leapt up from the bed, and back away.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chanted quietly. He took a deep steadying breath and ran his hands through his hair, starting at the floor. "I'm sorry."

Hiccup's heart had come to a complete halt in his chest. He sat, frozen and stunned.

Jack…loved him?

"Why?" he heard himself say, and immediately snapped his mouth shut so fast it hurt his teeth. His chest hurt from the force of his heart punching at his rib cage. His brain had just short-circuited, fizzled, and died; he felt painfully, vibrantly alive, excruciatingly aware of his own stiff limbs and wide-staring eyes and the way he was just sitting there. Only one tangible thought existed in his head:

Jack loved him too.

There was something wrong with Hiccup because he couldn't breathe.

"I'm sorry," Jack said again. He raised his eyes to stare at a spot on the wall by Hiccup's head. "I wasn't going to—I mean, I didn't—I shouldn't dump this—"

Dump this? Jack thought this was a burden for him?

"—on you right now, you're not—" Jack didn't get to finish his sentence.

Without ever consciously deciding to move, Hiccup was up from the bed and launching himself across the room. Before he crashed into Jack, he caught the terrified expression on Jack's face—like Jack thought Hiccup was about to punch him—and then he seized Jack by his blue hoodie, yanked them together, and kissed him, hard.

Jack's mouth was cold and soft. He stumbled back when Hiccup crashed into him and it broke them apart. For a long moment—while the floor seemed to be falling away under Hiccup—Jack didn't move. He stayed perfectly still, his face unreadable, and Hiccup thought, oh no, he'd fucked up somehow. Then in one fluid movement, Jack wrapped his arms around Hiccup's waist and pulled them flush against each other, and his mouth pressed back against Hiccup's. His hands rose to cradle Hiccup's face, desperate and hungry.

Hiccup kissed Jack back. He kissed him in that dusty quiet cold room, with tears still half-frozen on his face. He kissed Jack as hard as he could because he couldn't find the right words to say out loud his own feelings and so he poured everything he felt into the kiss, and he clung ferociously to Jack and didn't let go. His fingers curled up tight in the soft cotton fabric and held on.

Teeth scraped Hiccup's bottom lip. Hiccup shivered. When Jack and Hiccup finally broke apart, they were both breathing too hard.

"Oh," said Jack stupidly. His eyes were wide and glittering feverishly, pupils dilated. His pale face was flushed; botchy pink was splashed across his high cheekbones. "Oh my god. So you—that means—but—then we—" He looked raw.

Hiccup felt the same way. Raw and unhinged and giddy. "Yeah, I know," he said, breathless, cutting Jack's sputtering off. He leaned his forehead against Jack's and they stood quietly, slowly catching their breaths together, the air between them mingling.

"Who were you before you came to Berk?"

They were sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall with their legs pulled up to their chests, staring at the ceiling. The blankets were tucked over them like a nest, soft and safe. Jack spoke slowly, the words weighing heavy on his tongue. He tested them, rolled them around in his mouth, tasted them to make sure they're good before he let them out.

"I was a rogue fey."

Hiccup sighed and shifted, listening as he leaned against Jack's side comfortably. "Rogue?" He remembered hearing that word tossed around before, but he couldn't remember the context.

"Yeah. It means I didn't belong anywhere. Wasn't part of any group, didn't belong to any court. I just moved from place to place, town to town, city to city, sometimes court to court. I always felt like…like I was looking for something. Waiting for something." Jack fell quiet. Hiccup could barely see the glimmer of his eyes as he stared off into space, his thoughts somewhere in the past.

Hiccup cleared his throat. "How did you end up with Pitch?"

"That's a long story, but…let's just say I got into some trouble with some of the other folk. A group of them. They were out to get me, so I needed some kind of protection, like the kind of protection that belonging to a court will get you. I was on the run and I landed here one winter and found Pitch's court of shadows. You can't truly be a part of a court unless you participate in the teind and swear the oaths, but Pitch agreed to extend protection to me if I would do some of his dirty work. I didn't…um…fully understand the job he gave me, but I was relieved to have a place to hang out for a while where no one was trying to kill me. It got the other folk off my back. And then I was supposed to be sworn in at the next teind."

Jack huffed quietly and a regretful smile curled up the side of his mouth.

"And that's where my memory starts to disappear. I don't even remember if I'm technically a part of the court or not. I think I am but…if I was, wouldn't I be unable to be here, hiding from him and ignoring what he wants me to do?"

"I don't know." It wasn't really a question for Hiccup, but he answered it anyway. There was so much he didn't know; sometimes his confusion needed to spill out of him somewhere. "I don't know how any of this works."

"Well to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure any one of us really knows how all of it works." Jack turned his head toward Hiccup, smiling crookedly. "We just know the rules of our little corner of the world, and what we don't know, we make up."

Hiccup looked down at his knees. "How very fey."

"Mmhmm." Jack nodded. "And you…so have you always been able to see us?"

"Yes." Hiccup leaned back against the wall. "Since I was born. It wasn't a problem until…well, after my mother vanished, my dad thought that I was going to be like her. He took me to see a bunch of doctors and therapists and got my diagnosed with schizophrenia and made me start taking drugs to fix it. Except the drugs didn't work. They did the opposite of what they were supposed to do. I got paranoid and anxious all the time until I learned to stop taking them and lie to my dad about it."

"Whoa. What was that like?"

"To be honest…I don't remember much from back then. It's all just a blur of appointments and everybody treating me like I was fragile. No one knew what to do with me. My mother had just disappeared, presumed dead, and everyone thought I was crazy."

"Even Astrid?"

"I didn't know her then. We met like a year later, but…yeah. But only because that's what I told her."

Jack let his hand trail down Hiccup's arm until their fingers were tangled. He ran his thumb over Hiccup's knuckles. "You know what the old legends about what people with the true sight are?"

Hiccup didn't look at him, just shook his head.

"It used to be said that some people have the sight because they have a bit of fey blood in them."

Hiccup started. He cast Jack a sideways glance, but Jack kept going.

"They said the reason the sighted were so fascinated by the fair folk was because some part of them knew it: knew that we used to be their home. It was said that the ones with the true sight who found their way under the hill were only coming home."

Hiccup pressed one curled hand over his mouth. "You think that's true?" he asked, his voice rusty. "You think I belong there?"

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "I guess… I think you belong wherever you want to belong."

"Hm." Hiccup let out a slow breath and leaned against Jack's shoulder. "Where do you want to belong?"

"Me?" Jack echoed. "I… Hiccup, you remember when you first agreed to help me, it was under the condition that I promise to leave you alone once I was free?"

"You don't have to do that," Hiccup said at once. "I don't want that. Anymore."

"I am a faery," said Jack. "One of the aós sí. Do you know what a promise is? For us, I mean? How it works?"

"Ohhhh." Hiccup fell silent as the meaning sunk in. "So you're…bound to that? You won't have a choice?" His voice came out stained with panic. Jack was going to leave him. The air in the room seemed thinner suddenly. He squeezed Jack's hand too tightly.

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa. Don't panic, I just need you to release me from it."

"Oh." Hiccup slumped back against the wall in relief. "How do I do that?"

"You just say it out loud."

"Say…I release you from your promise to leave me alone?"

He felt the moment the magic of it released; it was like a string had been tightly wrapped around him suddenly being cut. It was release of pressure that had him exhaling in relief. Jack must have felt it too; he let out a sigh and his shoulders relaxed.

"Yeah." Jack grinned wildly. "That was it."

What's… what's happening to me? he thought in wonder. He held his hand up and turned it over. It looked the same. It didn't feel the same though: when he focused on it, he started to feel something akin to pins and needles, static crawling over his skin. He still wasn't hungry. When was the last time he'd eaten?

Unbidden, the image of his own reflection came to him, the night the wild hunt had come upon him, the way he'd looked in the mirror of the gas station bathroom. Bloody and bruised, but feverishly alive, his eyes bright and glassy, a crown of thorns pressed onto his head. The way every freckle had stood out stark against his pale skin. The way he hadn't felt like he'd known himself. He'd looked wild. He'd looked almost like he was one of them, the folk themselves.

Without Astrid or Jack, there was nothing Hiccup could do or plan, and it drove him crazy to be idle. The uncertainty, the not knowing, it was all driving him crazy. Even though there was nothing he could do by himself, he couldn't just sit there waiting, so he left. Even though it was a probably a bad idea, he walked toward town, with Toothless trailing him at a concerned distance.

As soon as the chill outdoor air hit him, some of the tension in his shoulders drained away. Lately it had been like that: indoors made him feel restless and cooped up and itchy to get out. What is with me?

He still wasn't hungry — hadn't been for days now — but he craved something; his lips felt dry, his mouth dusty, his muscles tired. He wandered into Astrid's favorite coffee shop, past several people in Halloween costumes (What day is it? he wondered. He'd lost track) and lifted a stranger's drink off the pickup counter. This caused a stir of confusion. He heard it as he left, the people trying to figure out how a cup had just vanished into thin air, and then forgetting quickly.

A customer: "Sorry, I thought you called my name?"

"Oh I… thought I did. I set it… you didn't pick it up?"

"No… what…?"

"I don't know what is going on with my brain today. I swear, I—"

The barista's bewildered ramble was cut off as the door shut behind Hiccup. He sipped; it was a little more bitter than he usually liked, but it warmed him from the inside out. And it was definitely pumpkin something.

No destination in mind, his feet wandered until he found himself at the tiny park where they'd found the four leaf clover. It was cold enough that there were no humans and only a handful of faeries sitting on top of a picnic table, gossiping amongst themselves. Hiccup ignored them out of habit.

He sunk down on one of the creaky swings, coffee in hand warm and tethering. I wish I knew what to do. Deep down he was afraid that there was nothing to do, no way to get Jack's memories, no way for him to get his old life back. He missed Jack suddenly, missed him so much it was an ache in his chest that made it harder to breathe. Jack would have answers, or an idea, or even just reassurance. Hiccup desperately needed all or any of those.

He still felt weird. He drained the last of his pumpkin-whatever coffee before it got too cold and crumpled the cup in his hand, glaring at the ground. It bothered him, the feeling that had followed him around all morning: the tingling of his skin, the buzzing in his bones, the static energy he took in with every breath.

What was this? He had a creeping gut feeling but he was afraid to put words to it, even to himself. That didn't stop him from crumpling his empty cup up harder and focusing long and hard on turning it into something else. Nothing special, he just thought about turning it into a rock. He pictured it in his head, a smooth white stone dotted with little flecks of gold mica.

His fingers uncurled but it was still just crumpled cardboard. He didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed.

Somewhere a crow let out loud caw. Hiccup raised his eyes and froze. The doe-antlered girl was standing a dozen feet in front of him, watching and waiting patiently. How long had she been there? As he noticed her, she smiled and approached. "Hello."

"Hi," said Hiccup.

After a moment, he motioned to the swing next to him.

She sat down, adjusting the ratty jacket she wore over a short floral sundress that looked like something from the 90's so it covered her arms against the chains. They both swung back and forth a little. There was a grating squuerrrrk…squueerrrrk… with every motion.

"You may call me Vine," she said.

"Hiccup."

"Where's your human friend?" Vine asked politely.

"Astrid? She's…" Doing human things that I can't do. "…at school. Where are your friends?"

"My friends?" She seemed puzzled. "You mean the two from last night? One is there…" She pointed at the picnic table clique, and Hiccup realized the blue-skinned sharp-toothed boy stood there with two strange fey, watching them from the corners of his eyes. The girl continued. "…I know not about the other. I wouldn't name either a friend, though. I find them cruel."

That was a comforting thought, a little breath of warmth in his currently very cold world, that some fey thought like that. A welcome reminder that not all the fey were cruel, some were kind and respectful even of life forms they didn't understand.

Across the lawn, the boy smiled sharp and gnashed his teeth when he caught Hiccup staring at him. Hiccup looked away; the boy gave him goosebumps. "Hmm," he said.

"I do not like it here," said Vine, her face forlorn. "Everything smells of metals. It makes me tired." The faintest dark shadows had appeared under her eyes since Hiccup had seen her last. Unlike Jack, she was new and unused to the cold metal and human trappings of Berk.

"I know." Hiccup touched his own dark shadows with the pad of one finger. "Sorry I got you banished. Hey, can you tell me…"

Her antlers jingled the swing as she glanced sideways at him, waiting for him to finish his question.

"I ate the food you gave me. Would you still have given it to me if you'd known I was human?"

She cocked her head to one side and shrugged. "Perhaps. Does it matter now? I did and you ate it."

"And I feel so different now." He steeled himself. "How… how does magic work? I mean, how do you use it?"

Surprised, she let out a thin tinkling laugh like a bell. "What a question! You might well ask how life itself works. And I might well spend years answering. It's all the same underneath."

"Please." Hiccup leaned toward her, closing up the space between them. He'd crumpled a hole into his cup and sopping dregs were leaking all over his hand, but he didn't care. "Just help me. I don't know what's happening to me. It was because of you that I ate the food, and now I'm never hungry and I feel like my skin is too tight and my bones are vibrating or something. Am I not human?"

She didn't pull away from him. She regarded him with her too-large doe eyes, appraising, wondering. "I can't say," she began. "You are…different from most humans. This is outside my ken. But if you will have the magic, same as we do, if you believe that is happening, I will tell you…" She licked her lips; there was an air about her of trying to pin down an idea, wrestling with something larger than words. "…it is will. Focus. It will listen to you if you push hard enough." She closed her eyes, releasing Hiccup from the intensity of her stare, and shook her head. "I know not how else to tell you."

Hiccup sagged. "But what if I'm—"

He froze then, mouth hanging open because — as one — the other fey had climbed from the picnic table and were slinking toward him, sharp-teeth in the lead. Vine stiffened beside him.

"This is he?" asked one of the new strange fey.

"Yes." Sharp-teeth looked at Hiccup and there was something so hungry in his gaze, Hiccup shrank back. "You're the Sighted boy."

"I know," said Hiccup.

"He doesn't look like much," said one faery.

The other shook its head in agreement. "Not was I was expecting."

"Expecting?" echoed Hiccup. He didn't like the idea that any of the folk were expecting anything from him at all.

Vine touched his arm, gentle. "What does it matter?" She addressed herself to the other fey. "We know not what he is capable of. It may be—"

"Everyone is talking about you." Sharp-teeth cut her off, his inky black eyes boring into Hiccup. "They talk about how the other Sighted one had a son, and he's the same as her. How he'll come join us, under the hill."

"…you mean my mother," he said slowly.

The faeries all tilted their heads as if they were confused by his reaction. The new girl voiced it. "We don't truly understand," she confessed. Her skin was mottled with the colors of autumn, and her eyes burned right with gold and orange. Her voice held whispering tones of wind and leaves. "What is a mother?"

"Uuuugh, geez." Hiccup thought of the safe haven of Astrid's house. He should never have left it. He wanted to go back to it now, but the faeries were on all sides of him. "A woman who gives birth to you and raises you. Until you're an adult and you can take care of yourself." How much of that would they understand? They'd seen human children, surely, but Hiccup had never seen a single faery child. It was as if faeries just appeared fully-grown. Where did they come from? Did they spring from the earth, sprout from trees, rise from rivers and lakes? They didn't have moms? "She… takes care of you…"

"But yours didn't," sharp-teeth interrupted, "did she?"

It wasn't really a question. A lump formed in Hiccup's throat, but he couldn't afford to fall apart here, in front of them while they were all eating up his every reaction. He clung to the swing, to his empty cup, and held himself upright. "No…" he choked out. "She's gone."

"Yes." Sharp-teeth had obviously been expecting that. "Gone under the hill. Is that sad?"

Yet again, all the air was punched out of Hiccup and he struggled. "…What?"

"You didn't know." Another non-question. "She came to us."

There was a loud ringing in Hiccup's ears. He couldn't focus. His mouth opened and closed on its own, and his brain was full of roaring white noise like an empty radio station. He couldn't get a coherent thought together.

"No…" he heard himself saying. "No, she didn't. She wouldn't. You took her!"

"I never touched her," sharp-teeth scoffed. "She came to the court of her own free will."

Hiccup's vision narrowed until all he could see in front of him was sharp-teeth: that wide predatory grin, those hungry eyes.

"You're lying!"

"If it was a lie I couldn't say it."

Pounding heart, ringing ears, hollow lungs; Hiccup couldn't find his voice, didn't know what to say, didn't know if there was anything to say to that. He was desperate to get away, escape, but sharp-teeth was still talking, not done with him yet.

"Who can blame her?" sharp-teeth was saying. "Human lives are so boring and short. Yet when they come to us they can live for an eternity if we desire. A blissful exciting eternity. Of course she came to us. What did she have to stay for?"

"She had a life!" It was painfully close to the moment that he'd yelled at Jack on the rooftop in the rain. I had a life before you got here! A nice, calm, peaceful life! "She had a family! A husband—" Dad. Stoick, who was shadow-infected and catatonic in their dark house somewhere, waiting for Hiccup to save him. "—and a son!"

"You?" Sharp-teeth let out a laugh. "A puny awkward runt that sucked the life from her?" His lip curled. "That's what human children do. Ugly, squawking things."

It was too much. Everything welled up inside Hiccup, overpowering him even as he pushed back against it, every fear and insecurity that he tried to keep buried but couldn't ignore. She left… she's gone… Jack's gone… Why wasn't I enough? "She didn't leave," he tried one more time, and his voice cracked on the word leave. That sound rent the air and he knew he had failed.

"She did. She abandoned you. It happens all the time. Humans are easy to enchant and beguile; they give us their words and their wealth and their bodies just to dance with us one night."

Exactly as Hiccup had done.

Sharp-teeth raised a hand to tap Hiccup's cheek gently. "Fools," he remarked, sounding almost fond.

Hiccup bolted.

Vine rose, reaching out after him but he shied away from her outstretched hand. "Hiccup, wait!"

Hiccup ignored her.

"We'll be ready when it's time!" she called after him. "When you're ready, we'll be there! We'll follow you!"

He ran, leaving behind the faeries, the swings, the park, and a smooth white stone with little flecks of gold mica laying in the grass where it had fallen.

Maybe the night had always been lonely. Maybe he just hadn't noticed because being lonely was who he was, and he didn't know how else to be.

Deep in the woods, Jack was hiding. Two gigantic trees leaned against one another; the earth between their roots had eroded away to create an alcove shadowed by ferns. Jack crouched here, hidden away. He was hiding from a lot of things. Himself. His feelings and actions. His fear that he was failing at what he'd set out to do. But most importantly — so he told himself — he didn’t want to take the chance that any of the court fey might find him.  

He pulled Hiccup's hoodie higher around his shoulders and buried his nose in the worn fabric.

Where was Sandy? He should have been here hours ago, and every additional passing minute made Jack more and more anxious, afraid that something had happened to him. Meeting with Sandy was supposed to be a quick rendezvous; now he wouldn't even make it back to Berk by morning. Hiccup might worry. If Jack took too long, he might start to think Jack had abandoned him.

A distant golden glow appeared through the trees. Jack held his breath and watched; he had to know it was a friend, not a foe, approaching. The glow drifted closer, bobbing its way through the forest toward Jack until he could distinguish Sandy fumbling his way along with his eyes closed. At the sight of him, some of Jack's anxiety left him in a rushed sigh, until he remembered. Any court fey that sees you must report it back to him.

He leapt up. "Sandy!"

Sandy startled. His neat sand cloud fell apart like annoyed confetti and fluttered down. He pulled himself together and formed exclamation points, throwing them in the direction of Jack's head. Not all of them missed.

"Sorry!" Jack threw his hands up and ducked.

Sandy withdrew. His face turned toward Jack — well, turned his face to the left of Jack actually — and somehow managed to radiate disapproval. What are you doing? he signed. Don't you know Pitch is still hunting for you?

He was being reckless. Avoiding one problem by trying to figure out another. Avoiding Hiccup, like a coward. Jack sucked in a deep breath of the clean forest air and pushed his jumbled thoughts out of the way. "I'm here to find out whatever you can tell me. I'm…gathering information."

You have a plan?

He wished. Shame burned in his gut. "Maybe," he hedged. "I. Just. What's going on at the court? The fearlings are gone but I haven't heard anything about what Pitch is doing. What can you tell me?"

The shadow king is angry. Sandy shook his head in despair. I fear for you. I don't like to think about what he'll do when he captures you. And he is determined to capture you.

"What about Hiccup?"

Hiccup? Confusion clouded Sandy's face. The boy? What of him?

Jack clenched his teeth, fear tightening his throat, but determined to force through it. "What is Pitch planning for Hiccup? What does he know of him?"

Pitch is bent on finding the Sight boy who beguiled his lackey away from him. There's not just orders to report on you anymore; there's a reward. For anyone who brings news of either of you, a boon from the king himself will be granted. Some have tried to bring him pretend news, and the punishment was …severe when their deception was revealed.

Jack couldn't breathe. He sunk down onto the earth, knees pulled up to his chest, willing himself to stay calm.

Sandy's hands kept moving. But some have brought real news. There's word of another human besides your Hiccup. A girl with knives. He paused in his frantic motions and felt his way toward Jack, to put a hand on his shoulder. Jack, what have you gotten yourself into?

"Astrid," Jack breathed. So, word about her had got back to the court already. Jack scrubbed a hand through his tangled hair. "Things are getting worse then."

Sandy nodded, serious. I don't know what else I can tell you.

"Something… helpful." Jack stared at Sandy. As if Sandy knew what he was supposed to do. As if Sandy could have answers for him. "Please! There must be some information you have that can help! Something! Anything! Advice, maybe! I just — I don't know what to do, Sandy."

But Sandy just shook his head sadly, a troubled crease between his eyebrows, and Jack shook his head and got up, pacing back and forth, wearing tracks into the dirt.

He was such a fool. Now the reason that he'd come bubbled to the surface of his mind: that he'd come here because he didn't know what else to do. He'd known, deep down, there wasn't anything anyone could tell him that would help. He was in uncharted territory now. He was on his own.

"I have no idea what I'm doing, Sandy." The admission hurt his throat as it clawed its way out; his voice cracked. He swallowed and couldn't meet Sandy's eyes.

Sandy hesitated. Then… why…

"I promised Hiccup that I would get him back his life, but how am I supposed to do that?!" Jack glared up at the brumous sky where he knew the moon would be, behind the thick layer of clouds. His voice was too loud; it reached through the trees enough that if anyone were nearby, they would hear him. "I have to protect him, and I don't even know if I can! But I have to."

Sandy fell silent. He watched Jack, and waited, and listened. He'd known Jack a long time.

"I know he keeps saying that we'll come up with a plan, but how can we do that? We're one human, one faery, one bairseach, and one Sighted boy — that I don't even know what he is right now, exactly — against an entire court of knights and tricksters and—and—and everything!" His face contorted with terror: pupils constricted, mouth working as his breathing sped up, skin pale white. He ran out of steam and crumpled onto the ground, curling up on himself like a wilting leaf. "I've asked too much of him," he said, voice coming out small. "And I've… I hurt him."

You have… a… bairseach? Sandy’s face went slack with awe, but Jack wasn’t looking at him.

Memories of what he'd originally planned for Hiccup came back to him: the sacrifice, the kidnapping. Hiccup saying things like you came here to kidnap someone and when were you going to tell me and you could have told me. And Hiccup was right: Jack should have told him sooner. He should have trusted Hiccup. Should have been more honest with him.

Shame smothered him so strongly it was hard to focus on anything else or think about what he needed to do now.

Sandy drifted toward him, hands moving gently. You know what the odds are. He will not likely come out of this alive.

A shudder went through Jack but he folded his arms and jutted his chin out. "Then neither will I."

Sandy's eyebrows rose toward his hair. You… feel that strongly about this human boy?

Jack opened his mouth. He was going to explain, to say something sane like yes I care for him, we're friends. But instead, what came out was laughter. Impossible, hysterical laughter. He fell back and his limbs sprawled out and he was staring upward at the black sky, laughing his heart out. Brittle frozen pine needles cracked and snapped underneath him; he grabbed a handful and threw them into the air, letting them flutter down around him like confetti. "How could I not?" he shouted. "How could I do anything else?" The laughter faded into the stifling, watchful silence of the night. A deep, weary sigh. Just a breath. "He's…" Jack searched for words. "Impossible. Brave. Fearsome, sometimes. I…" His voice trailed away, following the laugh into nothingness.

Sandy wasn't quite facing the right direction, but Jack could still see his face. Could still see the expression of dawning awe and horror, mingled on his kind features. …love him. His hands signed the sentence that Jack left unfinished. His expression was hesitant, horrified, incredulous. Like he couldn't believe that even Jack would so stupid as to fall in love with a human. How could you do this?

No. No no no no no. Jack choked as he cast a sideways glance at Sandy. Oh gods. Was he really so transparent? "……what?"

As if there were any way he could deny it. A faery cannot tell a lie.

Fall like this, Sandy signed.

Jack said nothing. The word ‘love’ left him reeling, feeling punch-drunk and dazed like he’d been hit. His mouth opened and closed. Sandy’s question — How could you do this? — loomed in his mind. How? He was fey, one of the ancient aos sídhe; things weren’t supposed to work like this. The fey were said to be heartless, cold-blooded creatures like fishes.

Jack had no proof that it was true but he had no proof that it wasn't either. What would it feel like, Jack wondered distantly, if he had a heart to beat? Did it feel like this, terrifying and vivid? Or was he imagining the warmth pulsing in his jugular when he put his hand to his throat?

Did he have a heart, or did he not?

Fall in love so dangerously.

He wrinkled up his nose and turned his face away from Sandy, cheek pressing into the cold ground with a groan. "What?" he breathed again, only half aloud. The ground, hard with frost, remained unyielding beneath him. No more soft loam of the autumn. "I…I don't…"

You're my friend. Sandy's shoulders drooped. I don't want to you die, but if you stick by this boy…Maybe you should leave.

"What?"

Sandy just kept shaking his head, still stunned like he couldn't believe what was happening to Jack. Leave Berk. You managed to get away before Pitch could manipulate the nature of your servitude. Now is the time, before he finds you again.

"I can't just run away!"

Yes, you can, signed Sandy, confused over Jack's resistance. There are no orders binding you here.

But the idea sickened Jack; emotions sitting heavy at the bottom of his stomach and chest, squeezing him. Leave Hiccup? To save himself? He could scarcely breathe."You don't understand. I'm not going to abandon Hiccup!"

Sandy held his hands up. Alright. But at least tell me you have a plan.

"No," Jack admitted. He pressed his hands over his eyes, blocking Sandy out. "But we will."

Nevermind. Just tell me you'll come out of this alive and… whole.

"I will, uh …do my best."

Sandy let out a slow, tired sigh, his head bowed. It is exhausting to be your friend, you know.

Jack propped himself up, grinning through his exhaustion. "But what a good job you do of it."

I know. Sandy preened a little. Then his face became serious again. I'm sorry I can't help you. This is getting more dangerous. Pitch has been combing every corner of the court for anyone who's helped you. I don't think I'll be able to meet you again.

Jack felt a twinge of guilt that he'd asked Sandy here. Sandy was a good friend to put himself in danger for him in the first place. He nodded. "I understand. Thanks, Sandy." He patted Sandy awkwardly on the shoulder. "For everything. I appreciate it. What would I do without you?"

Probably die.

"Always such an optimist." Jack stood up, brushing pieces of pine needles and clumps of dirt off himself. "Well… I guess I'll see you when I see you."

You're leaving?

"Yeah." Jack nodded, more to himself than to Sandy. "I need to go talk to… to the... to Hiccup."

Maybe I’m scary enough, she thought to herself. I make weapons. Maybe that was it.

Was this how Hiccup felt all the time? Jittery and alert and little hollowed out inside, because he understood the world was threatening and dangerous and far vaster than humans could honestly handle? Was he this on edge all the time? That would explain so much about him that she’d never thought about before.

She slid open the window and felt her way out on the roof.

She sat with her legs folded up against her chest, back propped up by the upper story, feet braced on the roof tiles. It was a cold night; she pulled her arms inside her shirt and wrapped them around her. It was cloudy and almost completely dark; the closest source of light was a single lamppost outside the gate and the wall on the other side of the road, and it's weak glow did not reach enough for her to see.

She eyed the silhouettes of the fey by the gate. They had noticed her and were crowding in her direction, like dogs crowding against a fence when they saw food, but they didn't come any closer. Good. They shouldn't.

Astrid had always craved adventure. She’d always hoped for something like this to come to her, a call to action that she couldn’t ignore. But now that Hiccup was right, the reality of it shook her more than she’d thought it would.

Well now, she thought, leaning her head back against the wall, adventure is here, Hofferson. The question you have to answer is: what kind of character are you?

Only a cold night wind answered her, rustling the trees. Something scraped along the edge of the roof; she stiffened, but it was just Jack. He approached on silent feet and settled next to her. She could just see the edges of him in the weak light, the planes of his face and strands of his white hair.

"Hey," he said. "What are you doing out here?"

“I’m…” Vaguely she tried to think of some excuse but decided on the truth. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is that normal?”

“No.” She hunched further in on herself. "Thought you went to confer with your spy buddy."

"I sent him a message to meet me later." Jack watched her for a moment; his face was shadowed, but she caught his eyes glittering as he studied her. Moments passed in silence between them. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “It’s a little different up close, huh?”

She didn’t know whether he meant just because she Saw now or if he was referring to himself detrimentally. “It’s a different world,” she said.

Jack nodded. The air was feeling colder; little frost patterns were creeping over the roof tiles and wall in swirls and whorls, moving outward from Jack. The chill in the air felt familiar; she recognized it from the last few weeks. Every time she’d hung out with Hiccup she’d felt it. How many times had she dismissed a cold patch as a gust of wind, a drafty corner, a seasonal chill? But Jack had been there, this whole time, shadowing Hiccup, watching them both.

Well, not really both.

“You’re really attached to him, huh?” she said suddenly.

Jack glanced sideways at her in surprise. “Yeah,” he said. “He was the first to See me.”

“No,” she said, impatient. She was tired of half-truths. “Yeah, okay, but… I mean more than that.”

Jack didn’t answer. He pinched his lips and looked away. His hands, propped on his knees, curled into embarrassed, uncertain fists.

Astrid sighed when she realized he wasn’t going to say anything. “What’s wrong with him?” she demanded. “Why has he…faded? He’s different than he used to be. I don’t really know how but I feel it.”

Jack thunked his head back against the house and raised his eyes skyward. “He ate the food,” he admitted, voice hollow. “That’s not meant for humans. He’s not really human anymore.” He swallowed. “At least, not for much longer.”

A new fearful emptiness opened up inside Astrid. “What’s going to happen to him?” Her voice came out breathy, scared, no louder than a whisper.

“I don’t know.” Jack’s voice was just as faint.

“Will he survive?”

“I… I don’t know.” His voice broke on the last word.  

Astrid nodded. She caught a strand of hair and rubbed it between her fingers, thinking.

Jack didn't know much more than she and Hiccup did. He was just as lost and scared and out of his element as they were. Jack may have been fey, may have been older than anyone she knew, but somehow he was still just a kid. A kid who was going to pick someone out to kill. Even if it was just a job that he never wanted.

"He told me what happened today, after you guys crashed Toothless. You were planning to sacrifice him?"

Jack sucked in a breath and she felt him go rigid all over. "Astrid. Oh, gods." His voice was wrecked and helpless. "I'm not going to. Please believe me."

She snorted at him. "Oh, I absolutely believe you."

"Wait, what?" Stunned disbelief. By the faint glow, she could see him staring at her with wide suspicious eyes. "Really? Why?"

She shrugged. The hard wall behind her was digging into her shoulders a bit but she leaned into the feeling. "I may have known you for all of one day, but you don't have a single deliberately mean bone in your body." She shivered in her shirt; cold was seeping outward from Jack at the same time frost was creeping across the roof tiles. It was like sitting next to an open refrigerator.

"Oh…" Silence. A deep breath. "Thanks." He fiddled with his — formerly Hiccup's — blue hoodie, twisting the aglets on the drawstring, and let out a mournful sigh. "He's mad at me."

She took a deep breath, and the cold air got into her lungs. She was so awake. "I don't know he's mad at you exactly. He just…" What was the best way to explain Hiccup? "He takes time to process things."

Jack hummed, head bowed. "Will he be okay?"

Oh for… I don't get paid enough for this. She took another deep, freezing breath as she thought about how to answer that. "He's struggling. I don't think he knows what to do with himself, with everything that's been going on. He's never really know what to do with himself though. But I think he'll be okay." She’d started talking to appease Jack, but now it occurred to her: what if Hiccup wasn't okay? What if something was happening to him and he was never the same again? She swallowed. "He has to be okay."

The wind rose. Their fading voices were lost in the rush of the tree branches. After a moment, she sensed more than saw Jack rise to his feet and disappear into it, swept away into the darkness as if he'd never been there.

She stayed out there for a while, by herself, until she got too cold to stand it anymore. After she crawled back through the window, shut the pane, and drew the curtain, she curled up under the warm covers next to Hiccup. His face was turned toward her; she could just make out the slope of his cheek and his closed eyes. He looked so pale and fragile, and she was going to bring him back from this, damn it. She was going to protect him.

Astrid didn't sleep much that night. Every time she dozed off, she imagined fingers scraping at the window or feet walking across the rooftop. By dawn, she'd given up and sat resolutely in the early-morning gloom, waiting for the day to come and turning Hiccup's dagger over and over in her hands.

She’d finished it, Hiccup's dagger, earlier that night. He didn't know about it yet. She usually took more time but she'd poured herself into it, pushing to get it done, because now -- right now with so much happening -- felt like the right time. Now was when he needed it. It felt right that he should have something with which to protect himself. She was covered in sawdust and fine metal shavings and her fingers ached, but she'd finished. And it was beautiful. He would love it.

He was still sleeping, heavy and pliant and face half-pressed into the pillow, hair mussed, the shadows under his eyes a little lighter. He'd borrowed a t-shirt from her that said 'HEAD BITCH IN CHARGE' and it was twisted around his torso along with all her blankets. It was the most relaxed she'd seen him in a long time.

Wish I were sleeping like that. He needs it.

Astrid got up and went to the window. The sun must have been rising behind the clouds: everything had grown that pre-dawn washed-out grey. She could see a few fey hanging around out front. Not the same ones from before, except—

A chill ran down her spine, and she stiffened upright.

He was back already, the faery boy from the night before who'd wanted to curse her. Blue-freckles. He leaned against the wall as if waiting.

Fuck this guy! He didn't get to come here, stalk, and intimidate them like this.

She gritted her teeth and glanced at Hiccup. He still slept, chest rising and falling with each breath. He doesn't need to deal with this. I'll get it. She turned on her heels, and — leaving his dagger on the bedside table for now — shoved her feet into an old favorite pair of combat boots, checked that her own knives were still tucked into their holsters, and marched silently downstairs.

She could do this.

The morning air was bitingly cold. She should have grabbed something heavier than the sweatshirt she was wearing, but this wouldn't take long. She stalked out and halted halfway down the driveway. "Go away!" she shouted at blue-freckles. "You want a repeat of last night? You didn't come out of that looking so good!"

Blue-freckles merely smiled, tilting his head as he considered her. "Where's your friend? The Sighted boy?"

"You don't need to know," she snapped.

He raised his hands with a blithe shrug. "Relax. I'm not here to pick a fight."

He wasn't? Then… why is he here? "Then what do you want?"

"You."

Unconsciously, she took a step toward him, then stopped. God, it was so easy to get swept up in them. There was this pull toward all of them, like a magnetic field, powerful and irresistible, an urge to know them and please them and obey them and receive their smiles in return. She pushed it away ferociously and reminded herself: yes, he was beautiful, but he was dangerous.

Astrid opened her mouth. Closed it again. "…me," she repeated.

"You."

"What do you want with me?"

He pressed closer to the gate without touching it. "To talk," he soothed. "Didn't I say last night, how fascinating humans are? Maybe I just want to…" He seemed to be choosing his words with care. "…make amends."

His voice had gone soft and smooth, an undercurrent of something staining his words, something… aching and alluring and calling to her.

Without meaning to, she relaxed and took several steps toward him. "You did say… I remember fascinating." She swallowed. "How do you want to make amends?"

"Come with me," he implored her. "We can talk between ourselves."

She shook her head, but still felt it: the pull to come closer, closer, always closer, to hear more of his marvelous voice and listen to everything he had to say. "Just talk?" That couldn't be so bad.

"Talk, get to know each other." He smiled then, soft and open.

Damn… She wanted to go with him, so badly. He kept staring and his gaze washed over her like the ocean until she was pulled under and she was lost, distracted by the deep dark blue of his irises and the curve of his mouth in that smile. Warning bells tolled but they were so foggy and distant; she was supposed to remember something, a warning, but it was gone. Everything was gone except him.

She found herself in front of him without knowing how or when she'd come so close. He was waiting to hear something from her, an answer. She licked her lips. She felt a little dizzy.

"You can't lie," she said at last.

His eyes glinted, but he bowed his head. "That's right."

"Then tell me," she said in a rush, disliking how it sounded strained with desperation. "Tell me that we'll just talk, tell me you want to be friends."

She held her breath, waiting.

His eyes were fathomless as they studied her, probing as if he could read her thoughts. After a moment, he reached one arm through the gate and cupped her chin with those graceful fingers. Dimly, she was aware this was just the same way they'd ended up the night before, with him touching her face while she stared enchanted into his eyes, except then… except then…

"I can't…" he sighed. "I can't honestly say that I want only friendship from you." He leaned against the gate then, and there was a faint hiss when his face pressed against the bars, but neither of them noticed it. "And I know you can't either, not without lying." He lowered his hand and held it out to her as an offering, inviting, palm up. "Now," he said, his voice a low whisper, "won't you come with me?"

She'd wanted adventure. Maybe this was her calling.

She took his hand.

"Here." He pushed a mug of frothed latte toward Jack. Then, as an afterthought, he got out a bottle of chocolate syrup and handed it to Jack as well. Sure enough, after Jack took a tentative sip and wrinkled his nose, he took the bottle and upended it over his mug, pouring in enough chocolate syrup to give an army cavities.

"Wow," said Hiccup. "Do you like coffee with your chocolate syrup?"

"How do some people drink this without sugar?" Jack demanded, sticking his finger in to stir it. The coffee cooled and began to frost, and Jack ended up with something that resembled a milkshake more than actual coffee. He seemed pretty happy with that though.

"I don't know," Hiccup admitted, accepting the Hershey's bottle back and using a much more reasonable amount of it.

They smiled at each other over their mugs.

"We did it," Jack said. There was a touch of reverence and excitement in his voice. "You did it. You gave Astrid The Sight."

"Yeah." Hiccup set his mug down. "And we still need a plan. How are we going to get to Pitch?"

Jack grinned. His eyes cut toward Toothless. "What about your bairseach? He can help too."

"What?"

Toothless, who had been curled up on the counter dozing, let out a small "merrr?" and raised his head to narrow his eyes at Jack.

Jack tipped his head at the cat. "Your bairseach."

"Hold on." Hiccup's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. A flash of memory: Jack shouting something as they leapt through the swirling portal into Faerie. "You called him that before. You know what Toothless is?"

Jack snorted. "Well, he's a bairseach."

"I don't know what a bairseach is."

"It's a…" Jack licked his lips and left his tongue there, tiny pink tip trapped between his teeth while he thought. Like a cat. "He's a shapeshifter. Sometimes creatures of our realm are born with that ability. That's what we call them." He caught sight of Hiccup's face. "You didn't know what he was?"

"No. I just thought he was a normal cat until two days ago."

Jack gave Toothless a wry look. "That wasn't very nice."

Toothless, at least, had the decency to look ashamed of himself. His ears drooped. He slunk down from the counter and leapt to the island to bump his head against Hiccup's shoulder in apology. "It's okay, bud." Hiccup ran a hand down his back.

"I wonder what his original form is." Jack tipped his head back and downed the rest of his milkshake. "Why did he attach himself to you of all people?"

"Uh, excuse me? 'Me of all people?' Look who's talking! You," Hiccup pointed an accusatory finger at Jack, "spent several weeks following me around before you even spoke to me, and you didn't even know I could See you."

"Oh…Right."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and continued petting Toothless. "I always knew he was way too smart. He always acted like he could understand what I'm saying to him."

"He can." Jack slid off his stool in one fluid movement and stretched. "How about it, Toothless? You gonna help us?"

Toothless chirped at him and whipped his tail back and forth.

"Alright, let's go see what you can do." Jack headed toward the door.

"Go?" echoed Hiccup.

"You want him to transform in here?" Jack called back. "What if he gets big? Or, I don't know, turns into something messy?"

Toothless blinked at Hiccup. Then he nodded his head once, leapt down, and ran after Jack.

Hiccup's mouth hung half open. "Transform…?" A well of excitement bubbled up as it dawned on him what was going on. So Toothless was magic, he wasn't just a cat, he was going to help them — and Hiccup was going to find out what Toothless was. For real. He followed them outside.

Toothless was spinning in circles in the middle of the driveway while Jack formed small snowballs in his hand and tossed them at Toothless. "Go," he kept saying. "Change! Transform!"

Toothless leapt up and smacked the snowballs away, kept landing and shaking out his coat, but nothing else was happening.

"Uh…" said Hiccup, watching them both. "Is this how it's supposed to work?"

Toothless yowled in frustration.

"No," said Jack. His eyes glittered as he watched the cat jump into the air and land again on his feet, definitely still a normal cat. "Maybe he's been in one shape too long."

Toothless yowled again.

"It's alright," Hiccup told him. He crouched down. "Relax. Don't worry about it." Toothless stuck his head against Hiccup's palm, and Hiccup ran a finger down his spine, feeling how the vertebrae shifted under the skin. He rubbed between Toothless's shoulder blades and Toothless rolled his head comfortably.

The bones cracked. There was a dizzying moment, for Hiccup, where Toothless was all the wrong shape and size, and he was yowling and screaming. Hiccup was knocked backward.

Toothless's shrill cat yowl warped and deepened until it was cataclysmic, until birds were fleeing into the sky, until the ground reverberated with it and Hiccup could feel it vibrating in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut against it until it faded.

Jack let out a whoop in the stillness.

Toothless stood in the driveway, but he wasn't a cat. Shaped anew, he was colossal, prehistorically monstrous, all sleek angles and muscles over sinew.

"Holy…" Hiccup scrambled back, staring wide-eyed.

"He's a dragon," Jack said in awe.

Toothless unfolded his wings — enormous, bat-like, rustling, like black sails against the sky — and shook them out in satisfaction, giving a pleased rumble. His tail twitched. There was still something very cat-like about him, or maybe there had been something dragon-like in his cat form. There was a rushing in Hiccup's head, and he swayed a little in shock.

"You have to try riding him!" Jack bounced on the balls of his feet. "Hiccup! You have to ride him!"

"I don't…" Hiccup couldn't finish his sentence. His mouth had gone dry.

This was still Toothless…right?

This was still the same creature that had dogged his footsteps, had slept in his bed, had made himself nests with Hiccup's shirts for years. But now Hiccup felt like he'd never known him.

Toothless caught the scent of Hiccup's unease and lowered his head to approach him. Hiccup took half a step back then made himself stay still, one hand outstretched toward the dragon, fingers trembling a little. Toothless inched toward him.

He was so close, and he was huge; drawn up to his full height, he would tower over Hiccup. Toothless and Hiccup stared at each other a moment. Then Toothless pressed his nose into Hiccup's hand, feather-soft. A sound came from his chest that took Hiccup a moment to recognize: Toothless was purring.

It was more like the engine of a car rumbling, but a breath Hiccup hadn't realized he was holding rushed out of him. Toothless skin — hide now, scaled and not furred — was warm, smooth, and much softer than Hiccup had expected it to be. Still hesitant, he ran his hand over Toothless's head, feeling the different shape of it, the ridges and flaps and things like rounded spikes or ears or whatever. Encouraged, Toothless shoved his face into Hiccup's chest like he always did as a cat, but now he was too big for it, and Hiccup staggered back.

Then his brain processed what Jack had been saying to him. You have to try riding him.

"Okay..." he said slowly, a smile beginning to light up his face. "Let's do this."

They needed more room. They went up to the roof — Hiccup had to go through the house and climb out a window — and Toothless seems happy to be even a little bit off the ground, sniffing at the breeze and raising his head toward the sky, eyes half-closed in contentment.

Hiccup stood a little back. "Is this a good idea?"

"It's a great idea."

Hiccup couldn't deny that he was excited; the excitement was there alongside the thrill, burning beneath his skin. Hadn't it always been like this where the fey were concerned though? Dangerous and exhilarating?

Toothless turned to look at him, then lowered himself for Hiccup to climb on top. Hiccup took the cue and settled himself behind Toothless's head, his knees clinging tight above his shoulders. "Okay, here we go," he muttered to himself.

"Hey." Jack hovered at his side. Hiccup turned, and Jack reached out to brush Hiccup's hair out of his eyes. Hiccup's heart stuttered at the contact; he hadn't been expecting it, and Jack's fingers felt cool and reassuring. "You're gonna love it."

He gave Hiccup a wide, mischievous grin. Then he stepped back to the edge of the roof, stretched his arms out to his sides, and let himself fall.

The wind caught him before he could go far. He became a blur of blue sweatshirt that zipped upward toward the sky with the sound of delighted yelling.

Before he could think about it too much, Hiccup dug his heels into Toothless's shoulders. Toothless didn't need the encouragement. He was already crouching down, coiling for a leap - then he catapulted into the air. The world faded away beneath them, the tree-line growing small, and everything was a rush of cold air, the sound in his ears was his own screaming.

It broke up into laughter spilling from his mouth. This was a thousand times better than being carried by Jack, better than anything he'd ever experienced. His blood singing in his veins, his heart thundering wildly, the wind dragging itself through his hair — he felt so vibrant and alive.

He leaned forward and Toothless seemed to read his mind, leveling out so that they soared over the town. "Alright, bud, let's take it slow and see what we can do," Hiccup said into Toothless's ear. Toothless nodded in agreement, and Hiccup wasn't sure how he could tell that's what it was, but he could.

"Nice!" There was Jack, drifting alongside him, his head mock-pillowed on his folded arms as if he were dozing off up here in the atmosphere. "Tell me you love it."

Hiccup didn't answer, just bit off a wild grin at Jack and leaned forward more, urging Toothless onward. Jack followed him with another cry of delight.

They climbed higher and higher into the atmosphere, turning wide circles over Berk. Oh, there was nothing else on earth like this, could never be anything else like this. So high up in the air, Hiccup felt more grounded than he had in a long time. He felt real.

Maybe he'd always been meant to be who he was. Maybe he was always supposed to be like this, with one foot in the human world and one foot in Faerie, halfway between two places, being two things at once. He and Toothless pushed forward in sync, faster and faster, taking sharp turns and curves, dipping below to thread in and out of the trees, and it occurred to Hiccup that Toothless was like him: halfway between, both one thing and another. And Jack too. He kept on their tail, zipping after them recklessly. Every once in a while, Hiccup would catch a snatch of elated laughter.

Determined to find out what was possible, Hiccup urged Toothless into a barrel roll, hanging on by his hands and knees. Gravity pulled and made his stomach swoop, but he only felt light. They could do better. They could do more.

They went too far.

Hiccup, laying flat against Toothless's back now, tilted them upward into a loop. Toothless rose higher, higher against the sun — and stalled, checking his wings at the zenith so they entered free fall. Hiccup's mouth opened to cheer him but—

—His knees had loosened around Toothless's shoulders, and his hands weren't enough to keep them tethered together. He clung on desperately, but Toothless pulled away from him, and, oh god, he was falling for real now, separated from his dragon, falling alone miles above the earth.

His cheer turned into a shriek that was instantly swallowed up the rushing atmosphere. He felt dizzy; his mind blanked out. Distantly, it occurred to him to try to get back to Toothless, but which way was Toothless? He was spinning, he could only see a dark shape tumbling downward sometimes in the edge of his vision getting farther and farther away above him, and he couldn't tell which way was down except that 'down' was a wide green space spinning around him, and Jack! Where was Jack!?

A terrified screech split the air as Toothless realized what had happened, but he couldn't get to Hiccup. A far-off sound beneath it — "Hiccup! Hiccup, no!" — was Jack.

The dark expanse of the ground was getting close. Hiccup was going to die.

Something seized him by the back of his shirt and he was yanked, hard, into a more controlled fall. Another pair of hands grabbed at his and pulled hard enough that his shoulders ached, but he slowed down. The dark shape of Toothless swooped under him, and then he was back on Toothless, scrambling for something to grab. The trees were too close beneath them. He made it onto Toothless, barely conscious of the fact that the weight against his back now must be Jack, clinging to him. They were going too fast.

Toothless struggled to level out, swerved a few treetops, and then didn't make it over one that clipped his wings and sent him spiraling. They were crashing. Toothless writhed and Hiccup and Jack were thrown from his back, only to be grabbed up by claws. Toothless curled into a ball around them. There was a terrible sound — crunching, crashing, breaking — and they were jostled painfully.

Then everything was still.

Toothless unfolded.

They were in the forest. All was quiet. The three of them lay in a pile at the foot of a giant pine tree, and an enormous skid mark stretched from where they lay out for dozens of yards, a great wound in the earth. The air was crisp and cold. Loose pine needles were drifting downward around them, streaks of bright gold and green in the sunlight, and settling in a slick blanket on the ground. One stuck in Jack's hair and Hiccup reached over to pull it out, ignoring the way Jack automatically leaned toward Hiccup's touch, eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. Hiccup's heart was beating so fast he was shaking.

He felt so stupid. For a time he'd felt like he was supposed to be part of Faerie, but he was mortal. He could die. I can't believe I… I thought I could handle the fey.

He untangled himself and staggered to his feet.

Toothless rolled himself upright, shaking off Jack, and nosed at Hiccup to make sure he was alright. Hiccup placed a hand on his head reassuringly. "Thank you," he said.

All three of them were panting hard. Jack's eyes were dilated, his face flushed pink. He sat disheveled on the forest floor, but then he raised his arms and let himself fall back so he could stretch out spread-eagled. "We lived." Heavy relief colored his voice.

"This was a bad idea." Hiccup wrapped his arms around himself. They ached. "I shouldn't have…I can't do this again."

"What!" Jack bolted upright, and at the same moment, Toothless let out an incredulous noise like a scoff.

"I shouldn't have done this. I can't fly again." He gazes up at the sky, trying to figure out which way 'home' was, and set off the best direction he could guess.

Behind him, Jack pushed himself to his feet. "Hiccup, you can't just—"

"Don't," Hiccup cut him off. His voice wavered a little, but Jack didn't comment on it. He set his jaw and trailed after Hiccup, and after a moment, Toothless slunk after them both. They were a sad, strange little parade. Hiccup's ankle hurt from landing on his leg weird, and he limped back, shoulders tight with apprehension.

It was a long walk back.

It was a while before Hiccup calmed down. When his heartbeat became normal and he could breathe, his mind cleared, and he felt the weight of the awkward silence. To cover it up, he voiced something he'd been wondering since that morning.

"Hey Jack?" he started.

"Hm?"

"What's a teind? You must know."

Jack stopped dead in his tracks. When Hiccup turned to look at him, Jack's eyes were dark with some unnameable fear. His mouth had thinned into a white line, and his face had gone so stark white that he looked frozen through. His lips cracked open. "How do you know about the tiend?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Hiccup stared at Jack. "Something in my mother's journals. What is it?"

Jack's gaze fell so Hiccup could no longer look him in the eyes.

Unease crept up Hiccup's spine, and he was seized with the idea that he has to know. "Jack. What is it?" he repeated.

"Tithe," Jack murmured.

"What?"

Jack took time to answer. Silent, he began to walk again, stepping carefully past Hiccup, but Hiccup followed. He fell into step beside Jack, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his back. Under their feet, the pine needles made soft whispers as they slipped over each other.

Jack cleared his throat. "It is a ceremony," he began in a low, restrained voice.

"What kind of ceremony?"

"Hiccup. You have to understand, this… normally we don't talk about this to humans. Even among ourselves, we don't talk about it much. It's ancient. Deep magic."

"I'm not exactly a normal human." Hiccup tilted his head, waiting for Jack to go on.

Jack bowed his head. "The king of the shadow court ritually sacrifices someone. By that sacrifice, all the fey swear their loyalty to him in exchange for leadership and protection. That's how the court is made. It…keeps order."

He wouldn't look at Hiccup. There was something in his aura, in the tense set of his shoulders, that said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It spoke of fear, of shame, of regret.

The forest was quiet. The chill of an early winter had crept into the air, and clouds had begun to streak the sky, making the sunlight weak and pale. The air was still.

"Sacrifices someone?" Hiccup's voice created ripples in the silence, ghostly and echoing. His fingers were cold and stiff.

With a deep sigh, Jack ran a hand over his face. He was walking rigidly, deliberately keeping distance between his body and Hiccup's so they wouldn't brush into each other. So unlike him. "Pitch…he sent a faery to keep an eye on Berk. A faery to choose a victim for the teind."

There was a beat of time passed in the space of breathing. Hiccup couldn't stop staring at Jack. A cold breeze ruffled their hair but he hardly noticed it.

Behind them, one of Toothless's wings bumped the trunk of a tree, and a flock of birds startled from it, dark specks streaming into the clouding sky. Toothless watched them go with his ears perked.

And Jack still wouldn't raise his eyes to look back at Hiccup. "That's my job. He sent me."

Something dark inside Hiccup cracked open a little.

"You…came here to kidnap someone. For a human sacrifice," said Hiccup, voice hollow.

"Yes. Pitch needs someone outside the court, with free will. He sent me to choose a someone from Berk. You know how faeries are. They're," Jack took a deep, too-controlled breath. "We're…bad."

"Yes, I know how faeries are," Hiccup said slowly. He knew all too well. Another idea was sneaking into his mind and growing there, unwanted but insistent. It voiced itself almost before he knew what it is. "Who were you going to sacrifice?"

Jack pressed his lips together, squeezed his eyes shut. Faeries couldn't lie.

And because Hiccup had to know the truth, he pushed on with the feeling of hurtling towards certain misery. "Jack."

"You," Jack confessed. Tension leaked out of him, leaving him wilted, shoulders drooped, head hanging. "I didn't have a choice. It was going to be you, but…obviously not…not anymore…"

A great cavernous space opened up inside Hiccup, something cold and dark and echoing, something carved of loneliness and hurt. He felt like the world had disappeared beneath his feet. He felt like he was falling again, and this time, there was no one to catch him at the bottom; there was just endless darkness, just emptiness. It was such a deep ache in his chest.

How could Jack do this?

He was going to sacrifice me. Expression blank, eyes unseeing, Hiccup stumbled onward, ignoring Jack at his side, thoughts running wild. That's why he really started following me around. He was going to take me.

But they'd been through so much now. He remembered Jack pleading for his memories back, remembered the cuts in his sides leaking red, remembered Jack's the edge of panic in his voice that night in the court.

But why didn't he say something sooner?

"Hiccup?" Jack's voice quavered with uncertainty.

But a harsh edge of anger kept Hiccup from looking at him. "When were you going to tell me?" His voice came out flat, toneless, empty. Emotion on lockdown. Nothing seeping through.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how." In contrast to Hiccup, Jack's voice was stained with panic. He stared down at the ground again, kicking at the pine needles. His hair fell into his face, covering his eyes, hiding them. "I should have told you earlier, but…how was I even supposed to do that? Oh, hey Hiccup, by the way, I was totally going to kidnap you and let you be killed in front of the entire court." He dragged in an agonized breath. "And then you turned out to have the Sight and that was so much worse somehow." Jack's face twisted and he drew into himself.

"You could have told me last night."

Oh gods. Last night. With the pond and then the campfire, and the flickering lights playing over Jack's face, and him being so close, everything warm and soft and feeling safe… A pang went through Hiccup.

"We were busy."

Hiccup cracked, just a little. "Before the dancing, snowflake."

He'd meant for the nickname to sound harsh, but it came out far more endearing than anything, and Hiccup immediately winced at himself.

Jack just wrinkled his nose at it. "I know, I'm sorry."

Hiccup stomped onward.

"How much do you hate me now?"

Hiccup didn't answer. He was struggling with something that closed up his throat, made his eyes burn. Something between anger and sympathy and sadness.

Jack grabbed Hiccup by the wrist, forcing him to turn around and look at him. "Hiccup?"

Jack was still Jack.

He let go of Hiccup's hand as he caught sight of Hiccup's face, but he didn't back off. Hiccup clenched his teeth. Jack's eyes were wide and pleading, with none of his usual mischief.

"Listen, please. I… you know I would never." Jack was speaking fast, his words tumbling over each other in an effort to get them all out quickly. He looked stricken. "I wouldn't do that, I never wanted to be a part of it, I just couldn't see any other…things are different. You know I'm not going to sacrifice you."

"What choice will you have?"

Jack's eyes widened. "I won't let him order me into it. I swear. I would die rather than be forced into giving you up for the teind."

Oh.

Hiccup knew what Jack is saying was impossible. If it comes down to it, if Pitch gives Jack a direct order without any loopholes or any way around it, Jack will not have a choice. He will have to turn Hiccup over. If Pitch orders it, Jack would have to drive the knife in himself and he would be powerless to stop it. But that fact that Jack was saying it, that he would rather die…

Hiccup swallowed. His heart was beating too fast, pounding in his ears. There was a tangle of emotions lodged in his chest that he was afraid to look at too closely. It felt more comfortable to be angry right now, safer. He licked his lips. "You should have told me," he grits out.

Jack's mouth shut. "I know," he said. "You have all my apologies. Just tell me you won't …you don't…" A slow sigh escaped him. "I just need my memories back," he said quietly.

Hiccup shook his head. "I'm not going to stop helping you. I promised I would help you get them back. But you can't just…I can't…" Unsure of what he was trying to say, Hiccup fell silent.

The relief in Jack's face broke Hiccup down a little. "You're not angry?" He reached out as if to hug Hiccup, but Hiccup smacked his hand away.

His heart wouldn't stop pounding. "Oh, I am." Even if it was choking him.

Jack's face crumpled and then closed off. His hand opened and closed at his side, curled into a fist, and stopped moving.

Hiccup turned away. There was too much going on in his head right now; he couldn't think clearly. He didn't want to listen to Jack, but he didn't want him to leave. He wanted to trust Jack, but he was afraid of where that would leave him. What if he'd never slipped up and revealed to Jack that he could See him? Where would he be now? The worst part what that he didn't know if Jack wouldn't have kidnapped him, or if Jack was good enough that he would have found another way. Jack was still fey, after all.

He just… I just want to stop thinking for a while.

The rest of the long walk back to Berk was traveled in silence.

In the gloom between the tree trunks and boulders, a pair of watchful eyes tracked them. A boney creature observed them heading home until they had disappeared from sight in the direction of the human town. "Mmmmm," it said to itself. "The king will like to hear about this."

Hiccup slid open the window pane. "What is it?" he whispered. "What's wrong?" His heart was still going too fast.

Jack's eyes widened. "Nothing," he said sheepishly. "I just want to show you something. A part of Faerie."

Hiccup let out a breath of air. "Show me something?" he repeated, rubbing at his eyes. "It's the middle of the night."

"Well that's the only time you can see it." Jack studied Hiccup, his eyes raking over Hiccup's face, taking in the dark under-eye circles and tired lines. "You can go back to bed if you want?"

But Hiccup was already up, and the cold air seeping in from outside had him wide awake and alert. He didn't feel like going back to bed. Besides, he told himself, when else was he going to have a chance to see a part of Faerie? Without Pitch or his minions messing things up?

"Okay," he said, barely even hesitating. "Should I meet you out front? Is it far?"

"It's a bit far to walk. Not much to fly though. I can carry you."

Hiccup remembered the last time Jack had carried him while flying and shook his head frantically. That had been a catastrophe. "Oh no. Not again."

"Oh, come on."

"No!"

Jack scrunched up his face, half in amusement, half in exasperation. "I'll piggyback carry you," he offered. "Is that better?"

"…fine."

Licking his lips nervously, Hiccup scrambled out the window onto the roof, the shingles rough against his bare feet. Jack crouched down and Hiccup climbed onto him as gracefully as he could, but he still managed to knee Jack in the ribs.

"Oof."

"Sorry."

Impatient, Jack grabbed Hiccup under the knees and hoisted him u. Hiccup didn't get any time to orient himself before Jack leapt off the edge of the roof and into the night air, and then everything was rushing past them. Wind and woods and moonlight all slid together into one long whooooosh. Hiccup clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from screeching and clung onto Jack's neck for dear life, burying his face against the back of Jack's neck.

Jack yelled something.

"What?"

"I said you don't need to choke me!"

Hiccup tried to loosen his grip and dug his fingers into Jack's hoodie. He didn't know how long he stayed like that. They went up into the sky, over and through the tops of trees, and the ground far below slid away and away underneath their feet. The wind carried them.

After a while, Hiccup realized they were descending. There was another whoooooosh of tree branches flying past, and everything came to a stop. Jack was standing on a protrudent tree branch, his hand braced against the trunk of the pine for balance. Hiccup glanced around and then Jack leapt downward, angling off the tree branches until he reached the ground.

"Here," he whispered to Hiccup.

Hiccup unfurled himself from the small, clenched lump he made of himself, stretching out until his feet touched the ground and he felt slick pine needles under him. He caught his breath and looked around.

They were standing by a wide pond. The surface of it was smooth inky black, the edges laced with frost. At their feet the dark bank of it curved away, tangled with the thick roots of the trees that grew right up to the edge, reaching down under the earth and water. The air was thick with silence.

Jack took Hiccup's hand and pulled him carefully toward it, stepping over pine cones and twigs. They found a place where the tree roots made a perfect seat against the earth, and Jack sat and patted the ground next to him.

Hiccup hesitated before he slowly lowered himself next to Jack, leaving just enough space between their shoulders so that they weren't touching.

"What is this place?" Hiccup whispered.

"Just wait." Jack was looking for something, staring intensely out over the water, his eyes reflecting the faint moonlight that filters through the tree tops. Hiccup turned to watch.

Minutes passed. Everything was quiet, except for the occasional whisper of wind that sets the tree swaying and sighing. Ferns grew along the bank around them; the edges of their dark feathery leaves just brushed the water's surface. Jack was warm beside him. Hiccup had no idea what they were waiting for, but he was glad they were here, glad that he was getting to see something peaceful and soft in Faerie before it was too late. Before Jack was gone for good.

With a shudder, he realized that he didn't want Jack to go.

Mistaking Hiccup's shudder for a shiver, Jack leaned his shoulder against Hiccup's. When Hiccup turned to stare at him, he gave him a small smile.

Fuck, thought Hiccup. I made him promise to leave. If we get out of this…I… Feeling lost, he returned Jack's smile automatically. His mind was chasing itself around in circles, reeling. I should ask him to stay — but he doesn't want to stay — but I want him to stay — but it doesn't matter what I want ––

Talk to him!

He cleared his throat, feeling dry-mouthed all of a sudden. "Jack…"

"Oh!" Jack grabbed Hiccup's arm in excitement, voice still hushed. "They're coming out!"

Lights were beginning to glow in the ferns and foliage, appearing gradually the way stars come out. At first so dim it was hard to see them, they winked into existence, glittering bright. Like fireflies, they drifted, free-floating, through the air and over the water. The smooth, dark surface of the pond reflected them in a perfect symmetrical mirror image. As they grew thicker, there were so many of the floating through the night, it was like a field of stars.

"Ohhh…" Hiccup breathed. "What are they?"

"A type of wisp." Jack sighed in satisfaction and relaxed against Hiccup's side, curling toward him almost subconsciously. He hooked one foot under Hiccup's ankle. His fingers folded against Hiccup's palm and Hiccup stretched his hand out without thinking until their fingers were threaded together.

"Oh," he said.

They fell silent. The lights — the wisps — spun slowly through the air, cosmic and seemingly infinite. Hiccup took a deep breath of the cold night air; he felt good right now, clear-headed and alive.

"So…this is Faerie?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "A part of it. It's…not all bad, right?" Tentative, he looked sideways at Hiccup.

"No," said Hiccup slowly. He looked back at Jack. Why can't I ask him? he wondered. Belatedly, he realized he'd been staring too long and looked away. "Not all bad." He took a deep breath. "Jack…why did you bring me here?"

The wisps seemed content to simply drift where they were, admiring their own reflections in the still water. One alighted on the tree roots by Hiccup. At the center of its glow, Hiccup could barely see a pair of wings buzzing like a firefly's. He reached out his fingers to brush it, but it startled and flitted away.

"None of the court fey know about this spot," Jack answered him after a while. "I come here sometimes. To hide."

"Ah." Hiccup understood that. This was Jack's version of a secret library corner.

"Ah?" Jack echoed.

Hiccup leaned back against the bank and shifted to look at Jack. "I understand why you come here, but…" he swallowed, "it didn't really answer my question: what am I doing here?"

They were still holding hands; Hiccup had honestly forgotten, it felt so normal. Jack turned Hiccup's palm over absently to trace patterns on the back. "I wanted you to see it," he said quietly. "I just… I shoved my way so thoroughly into your life, I thought maybe I could even the score a little. Show you a secret piece of mine."

Jack's head was lowered. Hiccup couldn't see the look in his eyes, but his posture radiated vulnerability, and Hiccup felt like all the air had been stolen from his lungs. "Oh," he said. He wasn't sure what else to say to that right now.

Jack looked up at him. "If you want to go back, I can take you."

"No!" Hiccup sat up quickly. "I like it."

A smile quirked up the edge of Jack's mouth, wry but hopeful. "Yeah?"

Hiccup couldn't help the grin that spreads across his face. "Yeah."

Something charged and unspoken passed between them. A shiver ran down Hiccup's spine again, goosebumps creeping pleasantly across his skin. Jack looked at him and his eyes widened.

"Sorry," he said, letting go of Hiccup's hand so that he could pull his hoodie off. "I forgot, you get cold."

"What?" Hiccup glanced down at his arms; he was still wearing the t-shirt that he'd been sleeping in, but he didn't feel cold. "No, I'm fine. I'm good, actually."

Jack stilled; the hoodie slipped from his fingers to settle on his shoulders again. "You're not freezing?" he asked in surprise.

"No," Hiccup said wonderingly. He ran his hands over his bare arms. "I feel better out here, actually. Like more awake?"

"Better?"

"Yeah." Hiccup wrapped his arms around himself and leaned his head against the tree roots, relaxing. "Less tired and sick."

Jack let out a snort. "I always feel better out here in the woods," he said, stretching his arms over his head. "Cleaner. Lighter. More peaceful. And also less tired and sick. There's no human iron or metal to poison me out here."

"Well yeah, you're fey," said Hiccup automatically, before the realization of what they'd just said sunk in. They both went still at the same moment, each unwilling to voice the thought that had just occurred to them: that Hiccup was developing the same reaction to metal that the fey had. That he was losing his humanity faster than he should have been.

Hiccup looked down at himself; his freckly pale arms, wrapped around his torso, are dark against the white shirt he's wearing.

"What's happening to you?" Jack breathed so quietly that Hiccup hardly caught the words; it was perfect to pretend like he couldn't hear then. And that was what he did, pushing on to a different subject.

"What will you do when you're free?" he blurted out.

"I don't know," said Jack with an easy shrug. "Celebrate."

"No, I mean," Hiccup cleared his throat, "where will you go?"

"What?"

That was their original deal: Jack had promised Hiccup that if he helped free him, he'd leave Hiccup alone to live his life. Now, the memory of that promise almost smacked Jack upside the head; in everything that had happened, he'd forgotten about it until now.

Jack opened his mouth to protest Hiccup's question, then closed it as he remembered his promise. He bit down on his lip a little too hard and turned his face away.

Before all this, he'd wanted to travel, find a new place to belong, but now he felt that the only place he could ever belong — ever wanted to belong — was already right here. Could only be right here.

"I don't know," he managed to say. "Why do you bring that up?"

Because I want you to stay, Hiccup thought. He opened his mouth to say it, but his throat closed up and he couldn't. "Oh," he said instead, "just… wondering."

The mood had shifted. A minute ago they'd been holding hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, but now Hiccup felt like he couldn't touch Jack. Like he didn't have any right to.

He so badly wanted to move his hand and forearm — just a few inches and he could slide his arm through Jack's. His arm practically ached at this angle. He swallowed, edged his hand forward a few millimeters, then got cold feet and leaned back on his hands. His fingertips pressed into the soft tree bark beneath, moss — damp and slightly squishy — crushed under his palms.

Jack turned his face toward Hiccup, looking quizzically up at him. His eyes caught the reflections of the wisps, reflecting them in silver slivers.

Hiccup tipped his head back to look away. He couldn't think of anything else to say. They fell into observant silence, not looking at each other. It felt stiff now, not like the comfortable silence they had a few minutes ago.

A distant strain of sound reached his ears. Through the woods drifted a noise, like bells or chanting. "Hang on…" he sat up straighter and looked around. Far off through the trees he could see a distant glow, flickering. "Do you hear something?" he whispered.

"What?" Jack lifted his head.

Hiccup shushed him. "Listen," he breathed.

The sound was getting louder. It was definitely music. Something throbbing and primal, with high sweet notes that seemed to call to him, made his blood hum.

"I hear it," Jack whispered back. Hiccup started to rise to his feet. Jack seized his hand. "Where are you going?"

"To find out what it is."

Jack hung onto him as he followed him to his feet and they crept across the forest floor. They headed toward the light.

As they got closer the darting shapes evolved into forms. Fey creatures of all shapes, sizes, colors, spun and danced around an enormous bonfire. Three of them were crouched at the foot of the flames, long curled fingers pulling at twisted, alien instruments.

"What…" Hiccup's voice faded away, swallowed up by the sounds of music and shouting.

"We should go, right?" Jack raised his eyebrows at Hiccup, concern written into his face.

But Hiccup was entranced by the dancing figures, his eyes glued to their swooping, winding forms. They were so fluid, graceful, they seemed the music personified, the notes made solid into flesh; they bent and writhed so perfectly in time.

"Hiccup?"

He could feel himself craving to join them, his heart rate speeding up, his feet itching to move. "Do we have to?"

"You want to stay?" Jack leaned in closer, his hand snaking higher around Hiccup's wrist. His eyes lit up with mischief, reflecting now the warm glow of the bonfire. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

"I shouldn't." Hiccup pulled back automatically, withdrawing into the shadows, but Jack held on and followed with him.

"They're totally plastered," he said. A short laugh escaped him. "They won't remember you. I don't think they'll even recognize that you're human. Besides, you've already eaten faerie food. What more could happen?"

Hiccup paused. "…you think?"

"Only if you want to stay." Jack bit down on his lip as he grinned at Hiccup. His hand loosened, only to curl around Hiccup's and lace their fingers together.

Hiccup took a deep, excited breath. "Okay," he said at last. "Let's do this."

They crept forward. As soon as they stepped into the circle of warm orange light, they were swept up, like leaves in the wind. Hands were reached out toward them and they were pulled along. Faces all around them laughed. Hiccup found himself doing his best to keep up, feet flying over the ground, somehow, miraculously, moving in time with the beat.

It was like before, in the court, everything wild and untouchable and under his skin. The world around him melted away, everything he'd been carrying on his shoulders evaporated.

Coherent thoughts dissolved. His head grew light and dizzy, everything was a swirl of color and sound that he was floating on. His body seemed to move without him telling it to.

A cup of something was pressed into his hands. He looked at Jack, who just shrugged. "What's it going to do?" he called over the noise.

So Hiccup tried a sip. It was light and sparkling with an undercurrent of something thick and spicy. He downed the whole thing in several gulps. The effect was almost immediate. HIs skin tingled all over, he could feel every pulse of his heart, he felt warm and vibrant and alive. Nothing mattered anymore and that was the most amazing thing. Someone handed him another and he drank it. Swallowing down mouthful after mouthful. His head was swimming but he had never felt more alive.

He pulled Jack closer, and Jack came willingly, laughing. Their hands tangled together as they swayed nonsensically to the music, losing the beat and then catching it again, noses almost bumping. Time began to disappear, one moment running into the next, blurry and indistinct.

"Wow," Hiccup tripped over a rock [or something?] on the ground. He almost knocked Jack over, but a faery behind his caught him by the shirt and up-righted him without even breaking stride. For a second he was swept away in the arms of a girl with a braid almost down to her feet, then he was passed between hands and handed back to Jack again. Jack caught him with a laugh and pulled him back from the wild ring of dancers. They collapsed on the grass.

"Nnnnngh." Hiccup stretched out lazily on his back, grinning. "I'm kinda drunk," he confessed. He turned his head to smile widely at Jack.

"I…" Jack looked very serious for a second, took a deep breath, and then snorted and started laughing. "Me too!"

That made Hiccup start laughing again. "Too much…whatever that stuff is."

"Faery wine." His laughter dissolved into breath. Jack rolled onto his side, head propped on one hand. "Gods, I haven't had this much fun in…months. Years. A long time. It's not important."

Hiccup snorted. "Whatever you say, old man."

"Hey." Jack shoved him gently in the shoulder. "Show some respect to your elders."

"Never." Hiccup chuckled again, then quickly sobered up, staring at Jack. His mind was still buzzing, but he remembered…there was something important… "Jack," he said suddenly, intensely, "you're going to leave."

"What?" Jack's eyes widened like he'd been slapped. He sat upright and stared down at Hiccup.

"I…" Hiccup's face felt too hot. He turned his head away. "Nevermind."

There was a pause. Then Jack's cool fingers were there against Hiccup's flaming cheek as he reached over to turn his head back to look at him. Jack had shifted so that he was laying against Hiccup's side propped up on one elbow, looking down at Hiccup's face. Hiccup blinked. "I don't want to."

"Huh?"

"I don't want to leave."

Jack's hand was still on his face. His thumb stroked along Hiccup's cheekbone. Hiccup reached up and put his hand over Jack's. "Okay," he said, a little choked. "Then stay here."

A small frown tugged at the corner of Jack's mouth but he said nothing, merely studied Hiccup with intense, dark blue eyes.

"I can't. I made a promise. A fey promise."

Hiccup's sluggish brain took a moment to catch up to that. So no matter what, Jack would leave, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "Come on." Hiccup pushed to his feet suddenly, staggering a little at standing up so fast. "I need some more wine."

"Wait, Hiccup—" Jack stumbled up after him.

Dragging Jack behind him, without looking back, Hiccup plunged into the chaos and let the music and the energy sweep him up again.

Some day, Jack would leave. There was nothing Hiccup could do to stop that eventuality.

The music picked up again. He grabbed more to drink and the liquid was warm and golden down his throat, and for now, for this moment, Jack was right here, hand in hand with him, and that would have to be enough.