[Well. He can't really argue with that. Hiccup admits, with a rueful little smile that doesn't reach his eyes,] Yeah. Something happened in the dream. [He goes quiet, for a long moment, as if he's weighing the words in his head, trying to put it all together in a way that makes sense of the roiling feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.] ...I got caught up in one of the protests. I, um. I was trying to hold the guards off, until the protesters could get away, and. [He swallows.]

They dragged me down a side street, and, and put their hands to my head- it was like being struck by lightning. [He died. He knows he died. They killed him without a hint of remorse.]

Mm. I guess. I hadn't, uh, thought about it either, I thought... Toothless would be enough. They, they call him my familiar here.