This is Grim's brother again; she snuck in a few words typing with her left hand so that no one would know her password, but here I am, uploading for her and partially finishing the chapter. She's doing all right and was really touched by all the people concerned about her.
Right now she's having an argument with the doctor about going down for another X-Ray (she hates the things, finds them obnoxious).

Grim would also like to know that you can all have flowers from the insane amount that are decorating her bedside—really, it looks like a greenhouse in the hospital room and it's become so bad that she's asking to people to forget the flowers and just bring her candy and movies to watch.

This chapter is pretty short due to the impossibility and the impatience of Grim and I, no other reason. Her writing sounds absolutely chaotic when she says it out loud and I can't type as fast as she talks.

That causes difficulties.

Again she's told me to wish you all happy reading, writing and gives out her love and jealousy for those people who aren't sick or stuck in bed.

DID YOU KNOW: That Valhalla served a darker purpose? The warriors taken by the Valkyries would battle for the survival of the Gods during Ragnarök in which Thor would be slain by Jormungandr and Odin would die ironically by Fenrir—the wolf son of Loki.

Arriving at Castle Utgard

Hiccup woke the next morning to a furious screech and the noise of happy barking. Rubbing his hands over his eyes, the teen stumbled to his feet, pulling his boots on and having to pause and change them, having put them on the wrong feet, before pushing his way outside. "Whaz goin' on?" He muttered, watching Lagoon jumping up and down, snapping at a small golden eagle that had a roll of parchment tied around its leg.

Frowning, he eyed the black splatters across the tan feathers and whistled, could he dare to hope?

The bird of prey made its way towards the boy, landing on his shoulder and glaring hatefully down at the canine that was prancing in circles around the Viking. Laughing, Hiccup removed the letter from the talons, bringing the Eagle inside the tree, absently petting the breast of his old pet. Toothless perked up when he came back in, toxic eyes watching the new creature curiously.

"Ah, Iron Claw, this is Toothless," The Night Fury snorted and shook himself, going back to sleep. Rolling his eyes, Hiccup settled down at the table, gently untying the letter from the long leg. Iron Claw hopped back, pressing his head under a gold wing as Hiccup unrolled the scrolled paper.

At first, the handwriting was smudged, dirtied, and almost unreadable. Scowling, the teen tried to make all that he could out of the hastily scribbled writing, ignoring the amused dragon and wolf watching him now. "Pleasant," Hiccup muttered, brushing his longer bangs out of his eyes. It took a few minutes to scratch off the dirt on the parchment without taking off the charcoal in the same moment, but the Viking managed to do it, grinning in victory before curling up against Toothless.

His eyes widened when he realized just who had written it. "It's from Astrid," Hiccup muttered, bringing his face in close; the parchment smelled like Berk. "She—she says that," The teen had to pause, frowning in confusion. "The village is in chaos? Dear Thor she needs to write more…"

Toothless nudged the skinny shoulder with his snout, huffing his impatience.

"Yeah, yeah…" Hiccup cleared his throat and began to read aloud;

I hope this finds you, because if it doesn't…well, let's not think about that, shall we? Berk is getting colder (but I'm sure you know that, wherever you are) and… it's quiet. Too quiet. They don't want us to know, but their waiting for the ice to melt, they want to find you and bring you back.

Everything is in chaos. Stoick, my mother… Gobber is the only one that makes sense. Fishlegs told us that his parents have been charged to make a fleet. Enough ships to carry the Vikings wherever they're going.

I pray to Vör that you know what you doing… Please tell me you know what you're doing!

We have to speak at night now, all of us, we believe you, but now—with everyone so panicked—it's hard to know who we can trust. They're coming for you Hiccup, and none of them will take no for an answer. Astrid.

The teen took in a sharp breath, eyes flickering over the words again before grabbing his own charcoal stick. Tearing a piece of parchment out of his own journal, Hiccup sat there and stared at the wall of his new home for a moment then, taking a shuddering breath, began to write.

It was somewhat a small satisfaction when he realized that his handwriting was still legible (Valhalla help him if Astrid ever finds out her thought himself better than her at anything), but the twisting in his stomach made it somewhat less of a victory. "Astrid," he whispered as he wrote, "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Not too far from home if you know what I mean. I'm taking care of myself with the resources that I can find, even made a friend or two in the process." He paused to tap the makeshift pencil on the table. "You're right, I do know that Berk is freezing—this place is freezing too, but not as bad; the trees keep the cold away.

It would be best, though, if you don't write again unless it is an emergency. My father knows Iron Claw, and if he sees him leaving… well, you could be executed for treason, then I'd have to come and rescue you, and we really can't have that. Please, be careful." Here he stopped, worrying his lip, deciding whether or not he should sign it. The Viking's mind settled on yes and the tip scratched against the paper one last time."Hogi."

Before he could loose his nerve, Hiccup tied the letter to Iron Claw's talons and watched as the bird lifted up into the air, a dark speck among the shocking white. Leaning up against the tree, the Viking stared up at the sky but didn't see it. His fingers drummed out against the flaky bark, but a wet nose pressing against his calf made him pause. "Hello, Lagoon." The teen muttered, kneeling down to the wolf and scratching roughly behind the pointed ears.

Woofing, the canine leaned forward, almost pushing Hiccup over. Laughing, the redhead turned to catch Toothless' gaze and the dragon—seemingly sensing his friend's gaze—rolled over on his back, playfully stretching out his legs and rolling about like a kitten high of catnip. Still chuckling, pale hands pushed Lagoon back into the snow before the young Viking was racing off between the trees.

He could hear the wolf giving chase and knew that the animal could easily catch up to him, but for some reason, Lagoon decided to enjoy the chase as they weaved in and out of the wide reddish-brown trees. It soon turned into a game of tag with them dancing around each other (a careful Toothless joining in with a flurry of white and black). A nose here, a hand brushing scales or fur, and then Hiccup collapsed against them, joy bubbling up in his throat as he forgot about Astrid and Berk and his father while simply enjoying the cool compression of the snow.

Their breathing fogged in the air, condensing and then vanishing into the sky.

It was only after an hour or so of just enjoying the day that Lagoon squirmed away from them and, with a bark, padded off into the trees. He seemed unconcerned, rubbing against trunks and rolling across large roots. Shrugging, Hiccup and Toothless got up to follow until the canine brought them to the river.

The ice had broken away over the night—the waters rushing by swiftly and uncomfortably. A few sprays made Hiccup shiver, but his eyes stayed firmly on Lagoon who was prancing up and down the beach like some enamored puppy.

Then, he leaped into the rushing blue and white, his fur vanishing for a moment and then appeared again—completely dry—on one of the large boulders in the center of the river. The rusty tail wagged playful before he moved, landing on the next stone and facing the redhead, titling his head to the side and motioning the teen forward. Taking a deep breath, the Viking leaped on faith—and landed on the rock. His arms were outstretched to balance his terribly wobbling body.

There was no ice—surprisingly—only the rough texture of stone and Hiccup wondered, for just a moment, how many times the wolves had actually used this path when crossing instead of using the makeshift bridge on the gorge.

Leaf green eyes caught the amused gold before the wolf moved on, jumping from rock to rock. Hiccup followed, with considerably less confidence than the wolf. The ice was below them, and he had no desire to repeat what had happened a few days prior. Both paused when the stones reached a log lying across the river. Sneezing, Lagoon looked back once more before springing.

The teen watched with baited breath as the canine soared—and landed gracefully on the wood. Shaking his head and chuckling softly, Hiccup took the next jump, paused, then lunged for the log. His fingers touched to wood and he managed to pull himself up onto the makeshift bridge grunting and panting all the way. For a moment, he just sat there on the wood with a pair of gold eyes and toxic green both watching him with pride.

Sneezing, Lagoon padded to the other side, dropping down into the unblemished snow. With a large leap (partially spreading his wings) Toothless followed a few yards up the river. For a moment, Hiccup felt jealousy rise up in his chest at the ease in which the Night Fury had adapted to his grounded state, yet still, somehow, managed to defy gravity.

Biting his lip, Hiccup squashed the feeling as quickly as it had come, following both of the creatures as they led him through the woods.