The Terrible Terror scurried down the hallways. Passing a variety of sleeping inmates. Its movements are quick and sharp, like a lizard. It continued to follow the sent it had picked up near (Y/N)'s cell. When the little dragon came to bends and forks in its path it didn't think twice, following its more than reliable nose. Finally, after what felt like forever the Terrible Terror came to a heavy door. A quiet conversation coming from inside.

It climbed up the outside of the door, its sharp claws easily digging into the slick door. It climbed up and up, till it reached the top of the door. Waiting just where the doorframe and the door met, sniffing through the cracks. Once satisfied, convinced that is where it was meant to be it waited, as still as a statue. The patient dragon holds itself as still as a statue, using the darkness to its advantage.

Then it happened, the door swung open. Wasting no time the dragon slipped in. Crawling through the crack of the door and onto the ceiling. Looking down into the room about a dozen armed guards were lounging in chairs around small polished wooden tables. Some ate, others drank, and chatted with their colleagues. None looked up, unaware that a small mischievous dragon was looming overhead in their break room.

"You brought her down." One of the guards said, looking at his coworker across the table from him. "Do you think the rumors are true? That she's a dragon-rider?"

The other guard a tall, lean, and young-looking man ran a hand through his brown hair. "I don't know..." He answered honestly. Truthfully he had only been one of Odin's guards for a few months now. "My grandfather fought in the Dragon War and he told us stories about the Dragon-Riders."

"Like what?" Someone else asked.

"Well... he said their eyes glowed like embers." He told the guards around him, more of them started to gather around the small table to listen. "And horns grew from their heads, like devils. They had sharp teeth and forked tongues. But most importantly is that they didn't bleed."

"They didn't bleed?" Another guard asked. "Then what...?"

"Their veins were filled with fire from Hel itself." The young guard told the group. "That's how you know they didn't have a soul like me or you.  Once joined with a dragon your blood would turn to fire, burning away your soul till there was nothing left."

The quiet was loud after that. Everyone in the room thinking about what the young man had just said. Some rolled their eyes, not believing a word of this nonsense, while others nodded along, taking in everything. The dragons had been gone for thousands of years. Everyone thinks they were wiped out after the great Dragon War. So no one knew what to expect from a supposed Dragon-Rider. Other than the stories that were passed down.

"Yeah, that's what they say." Another guard said walking up to the group. This guard was a bit older than the other telling the stories. His grey eyes heavy with centuries of service to the crown. But other than that he looked to be, in mortal years, around 30.  "No soul. You can't reason with someone who no longer has a soul. But you saw the same thing I did when we dragged that poor girl down here. Her arm was bleeding red. Just as they do on Midgard."

"You think the All-Father is wrong?" The young guard asked.

"I think Loki wants credit where credit is not due." The older one replied. His voice was calm but carrying the weight of his belief. "I don't trust that man."

"He is our prince."

"He is a trickster." The older guard told him. "One convicted of universal crimes. He wants back in not only the good graces of the All-Father, but also of his... the people of Asgard." The guard corrected himself. Not wanting to give Loki any kind of title. "He is not above framing a young Midgardian to pose as our greatest enemy to make himself look like a hero."

Some of the guards muttered in agreement. Siding with their elder, while others didn't look so convinced.

"I will not question the King." The young guard announced to the room.

"Then you are a fool." The older said, his voice firm but not unkind. "The mark of an intelligent man is to question the world around him. It will be good for you to know that. Even if the All-Father is right that girl is young. She has done nothing to us or our people."

The group began to mutter, commenting on the points the two had made. Uninterested in further debate the older guard turned walking to the other side of the room. He grabbed his sword and helmet and then walked to the door.

The Terrible Terror above locked in on the older guard, following him from above quietly, watching his every movement. As the guard opened the door to head back out to his post the small dragon followed, exiting the same way he entered.

Back in the hallway, the small dragon stealthily glided down, ever so gingerly landing directly behind the guard as he walked. The clanking of armor made it easy for the Terror to follow without being heard. Watching the guard the small dragon quickly assessed his target. His yellow eyes darted over to his hip where the keys to the dungeon hung. That's what the small cleaver dragon was after.

The Terrible Terror followed the guard for a while, watching his movements, and how he carried himself. Then when the moment arrived when the guard was distracted, looking over the inmate's schedules for the next day, seeing where he and his guards would need to be, the stealthy dragon took a chance and jumped. The small wire that connected the keys to his belt snapped. Which was supposed to be impossible. It was reinforced with only the best metals found on Asgard and enchanted with sealing magic, but even that couldn't hold up to the sharp teeth and magic of a dragon.

The Terrible Terror looked up at the guard, but he was still looking over his schedule, unaware of what had just happened. Even though this dragon was a member of the Stocker Class, it could sneak around just as well as any dragon from the Mystery Class.

Satisfied with its prize the dragon quickly turned and scampered off back into the bowls of dungeons.