HOME | DD

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Chapter 1: Yak Stew & Mutton Heads

“Oh man, I haven’t been this hungry since – “ On seeing that it was Astrid cooking Snotlout clamped a hand over his mouth and tried to discreetly back out of the clubhouse.

“Snotlout,” Astrid snapped, not looking up from what she was stirring. “If you don’t come and eat now I swear to the Gods…”

She sighed, ever exasperated with the continual assumption she was a hopeless cook. “My cooking has never and will never kill you, but me?” She glanced at him her eyes sharp despite the casual smile. “How about I force feed you this ladle instead?” she asked, brandishing it menacingly.

Snotlout lifted his palms and chuckled nervously, “Easy ‘Strid,” he said, edging forward to look at the food on offer. “What is it?” he asked, clearly hoping the need to clarify didn’t earn him a spoon in the gob.

Astrid rolled her eyes, “It’s yak stew. One of Heather’s recipes.”

Snotlout nodded, trying not to seem too placated by the knowledge that Heather’s superior culinary skills were behind the idea of the dish at the very least. He made to say something else, but before he could stick his foot in it Astrid handed him his serving and shoved a fresh bread roll in his mouth.

“- nks!” he acknowledged round the mouth full, taking a seat.

“Have you seen Hiccup and Fishlegs?” Astrid asked after a moment, she was looking out at the rapidly setting sun. It was the last they’d see of it for the next ten days as they headed into the ‘long night’. “They should’ve been back by now.”

Snotlout shrugged. “Probably bromancing? Either that or they knew you were cooking tonight…” he laughed at his own joke, promptly choking on a spoonful of stew when Astrid shot him another hard glance.

She stood and walked to the door, looking toward the continually smouldering volcano, anxiety eating at her though she knew she shouldn’t let it. They’d covered this hadn’t they? Still…

“They should have been back now,” she repeated, more to herself this time.

“Astrid, they’ll be fine,” Snotlout assured, in a rare gesture of comfort, sarcasm aside. “They probably lost track of time discussing – I don’t know - the intricacies of rock melting points or something equally exciting.”

“Maybe, but I’m going to check on them anyways.” She cupped her hand to her mouth and let out her throaty version of the nadder’s click-shriek.

It was Snotlout’s turn to roll his eyes at that, muttering something about the stubbornness of women under his breath.

Astrid ignored him as moments later Stormfly appeared, landing with a flurry of wings and whip of her tail.

“Hey, girl,” Astrid crooned affectionately, cuddling Stormfly’s horned face. “Want to help me roast some mutton-heads?”

The beautiful nadder squawked her approval: always.

“That’s my girl,” Astrid praised, swinging herself up onto Stormfly’s back. She glanced at Snotlout, catching him in the process of ladling himself another serving of yak stew. “I’ll be back in a bit, so don’t eat all that! The guys will want something to eat after I’ve kicked their respective butts.”

Snotlout waved her off, unmoved, but after watching the nadder take to the air, he leaned back to check Astrid really was gone before helping himself to another bread roll.

***

The volcano simmered angrily as Astrid and Stormfly circled the summit, looking for any sign of the missing riders. On the second-time round Stormfly squawked, drawing Astrid’s attention to the two dragons resting on an outcrop of rock fronting a small fissure.

“I see them, Stormfly,” she said, patting the dragon’s flank.

On landing, Toothless and Meatlug instantly bounded over to greet them, neither showing any signs of distress over their missing rider’s whereabouts, though evidently bored. Offering both dragons a gentle scratch, Astrid leaned into Toothless.

“They go in there?” she asked, cocking her head in the direction of the small crack in the mountainside, not big enough for a dragon to squeeze through and follow.

Toothless crooned in acknowledgment.

“Course they did!” she growled, marching over to the opening to call out into the darkness. “Hiccup! Fishlegs!”

No answer.

Toothless crooned again, a definite note of concern resonating through at the lack of response.

“Don’t worry,” she said, smoothing her hand alongside his snout and neck and reaching for Hiccup’s saddle bag. “I’ll find them and give him a smack from both of us.” She pulled out one of Hiccup’s emergency torches and held it up expectantly.

Toothless snorted a promise to reprimand his rider himself regardless, but with a quick puff of plasma he ignited the end of the torch. Astrid smiled, gesturing a silent command for him to keep an eye on the other dragons before she slipped into the crevice in search of Hiccup and Fishlegs.

If the opening had seemed small from the outside it was nothing to the space she was left with now, pot-holing her way through certain sections, silently marvelling at the idea of Fishlegs ‘thick bodied as he was’ being able to navigate the limited space.

Once she could no longer see the dim light of the entrance behind her she called out again, “Hiccup! Fishlegs!”

It took a second or too, but then Hiccup’s voice rang out from somewhere below.

“Astrid?”

“Hiccup! Where are you guys?”

“Down here!” he called back, not realising how vague a response that was given her current position.

“Wherever down here is,” she grumbled to herself, shuffling further forward till the space suddenly opened. She’d emerged on to a narrow ledge, high on one side of a vast cavern that was spontaneously lit by pooling lava, seeping from a thousand cracks in the walls. She shimmied to the edge and looked down, spying both Hiccup and Fishlegs at the centre of the space studying the geology. With a disparaged grunt, she eased herself over the side of the ledge and began a careful descent down to them, listening as their voices carried back to her.

“Fascinating idea,” said Fishlegs, “it’s worth experimenting with.”

Hiccup picked up a couple of the rocks at his feet, looking at them thoughtfully. “Yeah, I was thinking limestone or maybe even marble would work best due to the possible air pockets that form in basalt and obsidian.”

“Pressurising those could be interesting. Shame though, given its abundancy.” Fishlegs absently gestured to the surrounding space.

“I’d sooner keep both my hands.”

“Do you think they could stand the temperature?”

“Well, it’s only Meatlug and Stormfly’s magnesium fire that could possibly reach the temperature necessary to actually melt rock.”

“Hmm, and Meatlug would have to ingest the rocks to do that which is kind of devoid of the point.”

“And I’m not sure Stormfly could sustain a full burn for that long. Toothless’s plasma might work though. A short, powerful burst.”

Astrid finally made it to ground level and stalked toward the pair. “Oh my Gods, are you serious? Snotlout was right, you guys really are discussing the melting points of rocks!”

“Well, not the melting points per say,” Hiccup replied, shrugging his shoulders; looking remarkably sheepish under her stern gaze. In turn, she shot a glare at Fishlegs who noticeably winced.

“Hey, Astrid,” he muttered, weakly, offering her a little wave.

Hiccup ran his fingers through his hair before daring to look at her again unable to contain his excitement over whatever potential new project he and Fishlegs were dreaming up. His mouth lifted into that roguish half smile that he knew Astrid normally couldn’t resist. Her eyes narrowed further.

“Just, hear me out,” he said, gesturing animatedly as he began to explain, showing her the examples of rock he’d found. “What if we could find a material ‘or rock’ to store energy, say dragon plasma, and then release it when--

Astrid lifted her hand and pressed her forefinger to his mouth. “Save it! When did you two finish your recon? You’re were both due back at the Edge ages ago and I was getting…” she huffed indignantly, planting her free hand firmly on her hip, “I was getting worried. Plus, I made dinner.”

Hiccup and Fishlegs exchanged a wary glance at that titbit which Astrid didn’t miss.

“Oh, for the love of… it’s yak stew, okay? One of Heather’s recipes!”

The air about them was split with a deafening rumble that shook the earth beneath their feet.

“What was that?” Astrid muttered, eyes darting about the space as the tremors ceased.

What answered was an immense keening scrape of stone on stone. Suddenly Hiccup grabbed her causing her to drop the torch she’d been carrying and pulled her to the cavern side shielding her from the debris that began falling from the ceiling.

“Fishlegs!” Hiccup shouted over the din, holding his shield above his and Astrid’s heads. “When were the last tremors?”

“It’s been months! We’re still documenting all the damage caused by the last one!” Fishlegs shouted back. He’d mirrored their position, his eyes wide as larger chunks of rock thundered down around them. “Oh, Thor!” he exclaimed, terrified, covering his head with his meaty arms.

An age passed as the ceiling continued to collapse, blotting out all the light generated from the lava pools and Astrid’s torch was snuffed out in the settling dust.

Finally, silence fell, the world stilled, and they found themselves miraculously alive.

“You alright?” Hiccup asked, breathing heavily. His voice was strained but gentle given how close to her he remained. Astrid couldn’t see him. Gods, she couldn’t see anything. Her hands grasped at the darkness to find him, panic stricken thinking somehow her sight had failed her again.

“I can’t see,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Me neither,” said Hiccup, meaning to assuage her, but he sounded to be struggling.

“Are you alright?” she asked in concern.

“I’m fine but, Astrid, you need to…. I can’t reach my sword.”

Suddenly she realised Hiccup couldn’t pull away because of how fast she clung to him, so hard her fingers ached in fact.

“Sorry,” she muttered, letting him go and fighting back the dread that surged through her at no longer having him in reach. The discomfort was short lived.

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice steadier as inferno blazed to life. He held the sword aloft shedding light on their immediate surroundings. “Though maybe ‘alright’ is too stronger word,” he added, his eyes scanning over the dire extent of the collapse.

The cavern space was a sea of piled rock, some heaped nearly to the height of where the ceiling had been originally. The way that Astrid had entered the cavern was now completely buried.

Forcing herself to move before fear fixed her in place, Astrid spied her torch and retrieved it knowing that Hiccup’s sword had a limited supply of monstrous nightmare gel. She beat the rock dust from it and Hiccup set it burning once again.

“We need to find Fishlegs,” he said, retracting his sword and slinging his shield on to his back again. “Come on.”

Hiccup led them toward where he believed Fishlegs had been only to find a gaping hole in the cavern floor that dropped down into further darkness.

“Fishlegs?” he called down, too nervous to shout at first in case the sound set the stone to crumbling again.

“Hiccup,” gasped Astrid, grabbing his shoulder for stability as she held her torch out over the expanse. “I think I see him. There,” she pointed.

“Fishlegs?” Hiccup called again, watching the small mound - of what could have simply been more rock at this distance - shift in the low light. A pained groan followed the movement.

“Fishlegs?” Astrid called this time, her voice rising in concern.

“I’m okay!” Fishlegs moaned, the sound at odds with the sentiment of his words, but even as he spoke he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He held his head as he looked up at them. “Thor, how did we live through that?”

“That’ll be a discussion best had after we find a way out,” Hiccup replied.

“I take it that means no way out up there?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” said Hiccup, glancing back over his shoulder at the surrounding rubble. “Though we certainly have an array of rocks to try no – ”

“Seriously!!” Astrid hissed, punching Hiccup’s arm.

“-- Ooow!” he groused, extending the syllable to emphasise his irritation at being hit. He gave his arm a rub.

“Every cloud and that, Astrid,” Fishlegs offered up, insightfully.

“Gods,” she cursed under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. “Well, before either of you suggest taking samples, can you at least make anything out down there, Fishlegs? A way out perhaps?” she asked.

Fishlegs shuffled to his feet, stretched his back and stared into the surrounding black. “It’s too dark, I can’t see anything.”

“Have you got your spare torches down there with you?” Hiccup asked.

Fishlegs checked over the immediate area and found his bag. “Yeah,” he answered, reaching inside to extract one.

“Here, then.” Hiccup unhooked inferno from his leg, removing the zippleback gas canister from the hilt before dropping the blade down the hole into Fishlegs waiting hand.

With a quick offer of thanks Fishlegs went about igniting his own torch to look around, whilst Hiccup set about finding a means of securing a sturdy masonry pin into the rock wall. Where exactly he’d procured the pin from was beyond Astrid, but she’d learned long ago that he carried around the most random assortment of things tucked away in the hidden pockets of his leathers.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him make rapid adjustments to the canister.

“Well, either Fishlegs is going to have to come up or we’re going to have to go down. Either way we’re going to need to secure the rope from my shield to something, the grapple wasn’t designed for rock.”

“So, what are you doing with the canister of explosive gas again?”

“Making a hammer,” he said, not looking up from the task.

“A hammer?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing up, smiling at her incredulity, “a gas-powered hammer.”

He whacked the masonry pin, head end, into the canister and jammed the sharp end into the beginnings of hole already in the rock face.

“A gas-powered –“

He cut her off with a quick peck on the cheek, prising the torch from her grasp.

“Trust me,” he said, and held the flame to the canister, throwing it aside the instant the contraption started smoking. He threw himself over Astrid and covered his ears, again shielding her bodily from whatever on Midgard was about to happen next. She followed his example and protected her ears, squeezing her eyes tight shut too for good measure.

It wasn’t the loudest of explosions, the canister somehow containing most of the blast in a single resounding ‘pop’. It could have been quite disappointing had it not been propelled by said ‘pop’ two thirds of the way across what remained of the cavern to shatter against some distant crag.

The pin though, remained securely embedded in the rock face.

Hiccup moved to sit beside her trying not to look remarkably smug, but failed miserably.

“No one likes a sprätta,” Astrid chided, unable to hide a smile of her own as she nudged him.

“You guys alright?” Fishlegs called up.

“Yep,” she answered, looking over the edge.

“Thank Thor, I thought the tremors were starting again.”

“No, it was just Hiccup being,” she looked up at him, “well…”

“A ‘smart-ass’?” Hiccup offered with a smirk, he’d pulled his shield round and was starting to unwind the grapple line.

Astrid shrugged, “I’m not complaining.” She looked back down at Fishlegs. “Find anything?” she asked.

“A decent air current…”

“That’s something at least,” she said, but the way Fishlegs paused made Astrid realise there was more. “And?”

“You guys'd better come see this.”

Astrid and Hiccup exchanged a glance at that.

“We’ll be down in a minute,” Hiccup assured, and began lowering the line.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Chapter 1: Yak Stew & Mutton Heads

“Oh man, I haven’t been this hungry since – “ On seeing that it was Astrid cooking Snotlout clamped a hand over his mouth and tried to discreetly back out of the clubhouse.

“Snotlout,” Astrid snapped, not looking up from what she was stirring. “If you don’t come and eat now I swear to the Gods…”

She sighed, ever exasperated with the continual assumption she was a hopeless cook. “My cooking has never and will never kill you, but me?” She glanced at him her eyes sharp despite the casual smile. “How about I force feed you this ladle instead?” she asked, brandishing it menacingly.

Snotlout lifted his palms and chuckled nervously, “Easy ‘Strid,” he said, edging forward to look at the food on offer. “What is it?” he asked, clearly hoping the need to clarify didn’t earn him a spoon in the gob.

Astrid rolled her eyes, “It’s yak stew. One of Heather’s recipes.”

Snotlout nodded, trying not to seem too placated by the knowledge that Heather’s superior culinary skills were behind the idea of the dish at the very least. He made to say something else, but before he could stick his foot in it Astrid handed him his serving and shoved a fresh bread roll in his mouth.

“- nks!” he acknowledged round the mouth full, taking a seat.

“Have you seen Hiccup and Fishlegs?” Astrid asked after a moment, she was looking out at the rapidly setting sun. It was the last they’d see of it for the next ten days as they headed into the ‘long night’. “They should’ve been back by now.”

Snotlout shrugged. “Probably bromancing? Either that or they knew you were cooking tonight…” he laughed at his own joke, promptly choking on a spoonful of stew when Astrid shot him another hard glance.

She stood and walked to the door, looking toward the continually smouldering volcano, anxiety eating at her though she knew she shouldn’t let it. They’d covered this hadn’t they? Still…

“They should have been back now,” she repeated, more to herself this time.

“Astrid, they’ll be fine,” Snotlout assured, in a rare gesture of comfort, sarcasm aside. “They probably lost track of time discussing – I don’t know - the intricacies of rock melting points or something equally exciting.”

“Maybe, but I’m going to check on them anyways.” She cupped her hand to her mouth and let out her throaty version of the nadder’s click-shriek.

It was Snotlout’s turn to roll his eyes at that, muttering something about the stubbornness of women under his breath.

Astrid ignored him as moments later Stormfly appeared, landing with a flurry of wings and whip of her tail.

“Hey, girl,” Astrid crooned affectionately, cuddling Stormfly’s horned face. “Want to help me roast some mutton-heads?”

The beautiful nadder squawked her approval: always.

“That’s my girl,” Astrid praised, swinging herself up onto Stormfly’s back. She glanced at Snotlout, catching him in the process of ladling himself another serving of yak stew. “I’ll be back in a bit, so don’t eat all that! The guys will want something to eat after I’ve kicked their respective butts.”

Snotlout waved her off, unmoved, but after watching the nadder take to the air, he leaned back to check Astrid really was gone before helping himself to another bread roll.

***

The volcano simmered angrily as Astrid and Stormfly circled the summit, looking for any sign of the missing riders. On the second-time round Stormfly squawked, drawing Astrid’s attention to the two dragons resting on an outcrop of rock fronting a small fissure.

“I see them, Stormfly,” she said, patting the dragon’s flank.

On landing, Toothless and Meatlug instantly bounded over to greet them, neither showing any signs of distress over their missing rider’s whereabouts, though evidently bored. Offering both dragons a gentle scratch, Astrid leaned into Toothless.

“They go in there?” she asked, cocking her head in the direction of the small crack in the mountainside, not big enough for a dragon to squeeze through and follow.

Toothless crooned in acknowledgment.

“Course they did!” she growled, marching over to the opening to call out into the darkness. “Hiccup! Fishlegs!”

No answer.

Toothless crooned again, a definite note of concern resonating through at the lack of response.

“Don’t worry,” she said, smoothing her hand alongside his snout and neck and reaching for Hiccup’s saddle bag. “I’ll find them and give him a smack from both of us.” She pulled out one of Hiccup’s emergency torches and held it up expectantly.

Toothless snorted a promise to reprimand his rider himself regardless, but with a quick puff of plasma he ignited the end of the torch. Astrid smiled, gesturing a silent command for him to keep an eye on the other dragons before she slipped into the crevice in search of Hiccup and Fishlegs.

If the opening had seemed small from the outside it was nothing to the space she was left with now, pot-holing her way through certain sections, silently marvelling at the idea of Fishlegs ‘thick bodied as he was’ being able to navigate the limited space.

Once she could no longer see the dim light of the entrance behind her she called out again, “Hiccup! Fishlegs!”

It took a second or too, but then Hiccup’s voice rang out from somewhere below.

“Astrid?”

“Hiccup! Where are you guys?”

“Down here!” he called back, not realising how vague a response that was given her current position.

“Wherever down here is,” she grumbled to herself, shuffling further forward till the space suddenly opened. She’d emerged on to a narrow ledge, high on one side of a vast cavern that was spontaneously lit by pooling lava, seeping from a thousand cracks in the walls. She shimmied to the edge and looked down, spying both Hiccup and Fishlegs at the centre of the space studying the geology. With a disparaged grunt, she eased herself over the side of the ledge and began a careful descent down to them, listening as their voices carried back to her.

“Fascinating idea,” said Fishlegs, “it’s worth experimenting with.”

Hiccup picked up a couple of the rocks at his feet, looking at them thoughtfully. “Yeah, I was thinking limestone or maybe even marble would work best due to the possible air pockets that form in basalt and obsidian.”

“Pressurising those could be interesting. Shame though, given its abundancy.” Fishlegs absently gestured to the surrounding space.

“I’d sooner keep both my hands.”

“Do you think they could stand the temperature?”

“Well, it’s only Meatlug and Stormfly’s magnesium fire that could possibly reach the temperature necessary to actually melt rock.”

“Hmm, and Meatlug would have to ingest the rocks to do that which is kind of devoid of the point.”

“And I’m not sure Stormfly could sustain a full burn for that long. Toothless’s plasma might work though. A short, powerful burst.”

Astrid finally made it to ground level and stalked toward the pair. “Oh my Gods, are you serious? Snotlout was right, you guys really are discussing the melting points of rocks!”

“Well, not the melting points per say,” Hiccup replied, shrugging his shoulders; looking remarkably sheepish under her stern gaze. In turn, she shot a glare at Fishlegs who noticeably winced.

“Hey, Astrid,” he muttered, weakly, offering her a little wave.

Hiccup ran his fingers through his hair before daring to look at her again unable to contain his excitement over whatever potential new project he and Fishlegs were dreaming up. His mouth lifted into that roguish half smile that he knew Astrid normally couldn’t resist. Her eyes narrowed further.

“Just, hear me out,” he said, gesturing animatedly as he began to explain, showing her the examples of rock he’d found. “What if we could find a material ‘or rock’ to store energy, say dragon plasma, and then release it when--

Astrid lifted her hand and pressed her forefinger to his mouth. “Save it! When did you two finish your recon? You’re were both due back at the Edge ages ago and I was getting…” she huffed indignantly, planting her free hand firmly on her hip, “I was getting worried. Plus, I made dinner.”

Hiccup and Fishlegs exchanged a wary glance at that titbit which Astrid didn’t miss.

“Oh, for the love of… it’s yak stew, okay? One of Heather’s recipes!”

The air about them was split with a deafening rumble that shook the earth beneath their feet.

“What was that?” Astrid muttered, eyes darting about the space as the tremors ceased.

What answered was an immense keening scrape of stone on stone. Suddenly Hiccup grabbed her causing her to drop the torch she’d been carrying and pulled her to the cavern side shielding her from the debris that began falling from the ceiling.

“Fishlegs!” Hiccup shouted over the din, holding his shield above his and Astrid’s heads. “When were the last tremors?”

“It’s been months! We’re still documenting all the damage caused by the last one!” Fishlegs shouted back. He’d mirrored their position, his eyes wide as larger chunks of rock thundered down around them. “Oh, Thor!” he exclaimed, terrified, covering his head with his meaty arms.

An age passed as the ceiling continued to collapse, blotting out all the light generated from the lava pools and Astrid’s torch was snuffed out in the settling dust.

Finally, silence fell, the world stilled, and they found themselves miraculously alive.

“You alright?” Hiccup asked, breathing heavily. His voice was strained but gentle given how close to her he remained. Astrid couldn’t see him. Gods, she couldn’t see anything. Her hands grasped at the darkness to find him, panic stricken thinking somehow her sight had failed her again.

“I can’t see,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Me neither,” said Hiccup, meaning to assuage her, but he sounded to be struggling.

“Are you alright?” she asked in concern.

“I’m fine but, Astrid, you need to…. I can’t reach my sword.”

Suddenly she realised Hiccup couldn’t pull away because of how fast she clung to him, so hard her fingers ached in fact.

“Sorry,” she muttered, letting him go and fighting back the dread that surged through her at no longer having him in reach. The discomfort was short lived.

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice steadier as inferno blazed to life. He held the sword aloft shedding light on their immediate surroundings. “Though maybe ‘alright’ is too stronger word,” he added, his eyes scanning over the dire extent of the collapse.

The cavern space was a sea of piled rock, some heaped nearly to the height of where the ceiling had been originally. The way that Astrid had entered the cavern was now completely buried.

Forcing herself to move before fear fixed her in place, Astrid spied her torch and retrieved it knowing that Hiccup’s sword had a limited supply of monstrous nightmare gel. She beat the rock dust from it and Hiccup set it burning once again.

“We need to find Fishlegs,” he said, retracting his sword and slinging his shield on to his back again. “Come on.”

Hiccup led them toward where he believed Fishlegs had been only to find a gaping hole in the cavern floor that dropped down into further darkness.

“Fishlegs?” he called down, too nervous to shout at first in case the sound set the stone to crumbling again.

“Hiccup,” gasped Astrid, grabbing his shoulder for stability as she held her torch out over the expanse. “I think I see him. There,” she pointed.

“Fishlegs?” Hiccup called again, watching the small mound - of what could have simply been more rock at this distance - shift in the low light. A pained groan followed the movement.

“Fishlegs?” Astrid called this time, her voice rising in concern.

“I’m okay!” Fishlegs moaned, the sound at odds with the sentiment of his words, but even as he spoke he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He held his head as he looked up at them. “Thor, how did we live through that?”

“That’ll be a discussion best had after we find a way out,” Hiccup replied.

“I take it that means no way out up there?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” said Hiccup, glancing back over his shoulder at the surrounding rubble. “Though we certainly have an array of rocks to try no – ”

“Seriously!!” Astrid hissed, punching Hiccup’s arm.

“-- Ooow!” he groused, extending the syllable to emphasise his irritation at being hit. He gave his arm a rub.

“Every cloud and that, Astrid,” Fishlegs offered up, insightfully.

“Gods,” she cursed under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. “Well, before either of you suggest taking samples, can you at least make anything out down there, Fishlegs? A way out perhaps?” she asked.

Fishlegs shuffled to his feet, stretched his back and stared into the surrounding black. “It’s too dark, I can’t see anything.”

“Have you got your spare torches down there with you?” Hiccup asked.

Fishlegs checked over the immediate area and found his bag. “Yeah,” he answered, reaching inside to extract one.

“Here, then.” Hiccup unhooked inferno from his leg, removing the zippleback gas canister from the hilt before dropping the blade down the hole into Fishlegs waiting hand.

With a quick offer of thanks Fishlegs went about igniting his own torch to look around, whilst Hiccup set about finding a means of securing a sturdy masonry pin into the rock wall. Where exactly he’d procured the pin from was beyond Astrid, but she’d learned long ago that he carried around the most random assortment of things tucked away in the hidden pockets of his leathers.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him make rapid adjustments to the canister.

“Well, either Fishlegs is going to have to come up or we’re going to have to go down. Either way we’re going to need to secure the rope from my shield to something, the grapple wasn’t designed for rock.”

“So, what are you doing with the canister of explosive gas again?”

“Making a hammer,” he said, not looking up from the task.

“A hammer?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing up, smiling at her incredulity, “a gas-powered hammer.”

He whacked the masonry pin, head end, into the canister and jammed the sharp end into the beginnings of hole already in the rock face.

“A gas-powered –“

He cut her off with a quick peck on the cheek, prising the torch from her grasp.

“Trust me,” he said, and held the flame to the canister, throwing it aside the instant the contraption started smoking. He threw himself over Astrid and covered his ears, again shielding her bodily from whatever on Midgard was about to happen next. She followed his example and protected her ears, squeezing her eyes tight shut too for good measure.

It wasn’t the loudest of explosions, the canister somehow containing most of the blast in a single resounding ‘pop’. It could have been quite disappointing had it not been propelled by said ‘pop’ two thirds of the way across what remained of the cavern to shatter against some distant crag.

The pin though, remained securely embedded in the rock face.

Hiccup moved to sit beside her trying not to look remarkably smug, but failed miserably.

“No one likes a sprätta,” Astrid chided, unable to hide a smile of her own as she nudged him.

“You guys alright?” Fishlegs called up.

“Yep,” she answered, looking over the edge.

“Thank Thor, I thought the tremors were starting again.”

“No, it was just Hiccup being,” she looked up at him, “well…”

“A ‘smart-ass’?” Hiccup offered with a smirk, he’d pulled his shield round and was starting to unwind the grapple line.

Astrid shrugged, “I’m not complaining.” She looked back down at Fishlegs. “Find anything?” she asked.

“A decent air current…”

“That’s something at least,” she said, but the way Fishlegs paused made Astrid realise there was more. “And?”

“You guys'd better come see this.”

Astrid and Hiccup exchanged a glance at that.

“We’ll be down in a minute,” Hiccup assured, and began lowering the line.