Lucian didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment he was staring at the ceiling, listening to the muted sounds of the Noble Quarter outside, and the next—
Knock! Knock!
His eyes opened instantly.
"Sir," a familiar voice called through the door, crisp but polite. "His Highness Prince Eric requests your presence downstairs."
Lucian exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'll be there."
The footsteps retreated.
Lucian sat up, rolled his shoulders once to shake off the lingering stiffness, and stood. He adjusted his coat, checked that his weapons were still where they should be, then headed out.
____
The dining hall was already alive when he entered.
Warm lamplight spilled across long wooden tables crowded with food: roasted meats, bread still steaming, bowls of vegetables and fruit laid out in generous portions. The smell alone made it clear no expense had been spared.
Most of the group was already seated.
Tuffnut and Ruffnut were arguing over a loaf of bread. Fishlegs was enthusiastically explaining something to Astrid while chewing far too fast. Hiccup sat hunched slightly forward, clearly distracted even as he picked at his food.
Eric noticed Lucian immediately.
He lifted his cup slightly and gestured toward an empty seat. "Over here."
Lucian joined them without a word, taking his place at the large table. He reached for a plate and began eating, the quiet normalcy of it all feeling strangely surreal after the day they'd had.
For a few moments, no one spoke.
Then—
"Sooo… Your Highness." Snoutlout leaned back in his chair, one boot hooked over the rung, grease on his fingers as he gnawed on a chicken leg.
"What happened to the treasure?" he asked casually. "Y'know. Since we kinda helped."
Eric smiled politely. He dabbed his mouth with a cloth before answering.
"Princess Merida proposed the division," he said calmly. "DunBroch will claim sixty percent. The remaining forty will be shared among those who aided in securing it."
Snoutlout froze.
"…What?"
He straightened abruptly. "That's—hey! That's totally unfa—"
Hiccup's hand clamped over his mouth.
"That's good," Hiccup said quickly, forcing a nod.
Snoutlout slapped the hand away. "Why are you agreeing with him? That's low!"
Astrid didn't even look up from her plate. "You didn't help," she said flatly. "You just complained."
"I helped emotionally," Snoutlout protested. "And strategically! I distracted the dragon!"
"By almost getting yourself killed," Hiccup said.
"And besides," Hiccup continued, calmer now, "we're not the ones hauling the treasure out. DunBroch's clan is. We just found the cave."
Snoutlout opened his mouth, then paused.
"…Still feels unfair."
No one responded.
They finished eating not long after, exhaustion dulling even Snoutlout's protests.
Eric stood, drawing their attention. "We should move. The auction will begin shortly."
That got Lucian and Hiccup's full attention.
____
The Northern Market looked different at night.
Torchlight washed the stone streets in gold and shadow as they were escorted through the crowd, merchants calling out, nobles whispering behind fans and cloaks. The noise grew louder the farther north they went, until the sound of voices blended into a low, expectant hum.
The auction hall rose before them like a shallow coliseum. Circular, built is stone, tiered seating climbed upward like steps, each row filled with finely dressed bidders. At the center lay a sunken stage wide enough to display beasts, artifacts, or anything else worth killing over.
Eric led them to seats near the lower tiers, close enough to see the stage clearly.
Lucian pulled his hood up as he sat, shadows hiding his face.
The air was thick with anticipation.
Hiccup shifted beside him.
He'd been fidgeting since they left the inn. His hands was restless.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning closer. "Uh… Lucian?"
Lucian turned slightly. "What is it?"
Hiccup swallowed.
"I've been thinking since we left the inn," he said carefully. "And since the cave…"
His voice dropped even lower.
"Where's Simba?"
Lucian froze.
The world seemed to tilt.
His mind raced backward through the cave, the fight, the chaos, the retreat, the carriages—
Nothing.
No weight at his side nor the familiar presence.
Lucian's eyes widened beneath the hood.
"…Shit."
Simba wasn't with him.
_______
A few hours earlier before the gang found the cave.
Simba padded along the shoreline at a distance, golden eyes tracking the group as they spoke among themselves. He stayed low, tail flicking lazily, ears twitching at voices he only half cared about.
Then he froze.
His nose lifted.
Something was wrong.
No—right.
A scent drifted on the air, faint but unmistakable. It tugged at something deep inside him, deeper than hunger, deeper than curiosity. The smell of the sea but twisted, layered with something ancient and green-bright.
Simba turned his head slowly toward the coast.
Lucian was still busy, focused on the others. No one was watching him.
Simba hesitated only a moment.
Then he slipped away.
The water welcomed him easily, parting as he swam through the shallows and into the open sea. The scent grew stronger the farther he went, pulling him onward like a thread tied around his chest.
Minutes blurred into an hour.
Then he saw it.
Resting atop a stretch of sandy beach was something unnatural: a circular stone, smooth and worn, its surface etched with faint patterns. A soft green glow pulsed from within it, bright even beneath the sun.
Simba emerged from the water, paws sinking into wet sand as he approached.
He sniffed it.
The scent hit him full force.
His ears flattened in pleasure.
He tapped the stone experimentally with one paw. It didn't move. He batted it harder.
Nothing.
With a huff, Simba leaned down and bit it.
The moment his teeth touched the stone—
The ocean moved.
Water surged upward, rising into a living wall that curled toward him, not violent, but insistent. It flowed closer, forming a shape that reached gently for the stone in his mouth.
Simba snarled.
"Grrr... "
A low, warning growl rumbled from his chest as he clamped down harder, paws braced in the sand.
The water tugged and Simba pulled back.
The ocean tried again, waves curling around his legs, coaxing, pushing, pulling.
"No," Simba's body language screamed as he dug in, muscles tensing. His tail lashed as he growled louder, teeth locked around the stone.
The struggle intensified.
Water surged, sand shifted beneath his feet then—
Simba slipped.
Whoosh!
For a split second, the stone flew free, suspended in the air between them.
The ocean surged forward.
Simba leapt.
His jaws snapped shut mid-air.
Gulp.
The stone vanished down his throat.
Simba landed awkwardly, skidding a few feet before regaining his balance.
Silence followed.
Simba straightened, chest puffed out. He turned toward the ocean and let out a low, smug rumble.
"Grrr."
The water froze.
Then it vibrated.
Waves rippled unnaturally, the surface trembling as if the sea itself were… offended.
Simba merely flicked his tail.
Mine.
And with that, he turned back toward the distant shore unaware that he'd just swallowed something the ocean itself had been trying to protect.