I realize it's been well over a year since I last uploaded something onto here. Been meaning to for some time now actually. In fact, this particular piece was written shortly after I saw the second movie in theaters for the third or four time (I can't honestly remember). I know I saw it at least 3 times during the first week its release. Anyway, the point is this one is long overdue. So I'm posting it as is with very little editing done to it other than running it through spell check and catching what I could at a glance. Hope it was worth the wait, though I doubt anybody will recognize me at this point in time. Anyway, this was my attempt at exploring the relationship between Valka and Toothless. Ended up wondering off into tangents a bit with this one but I hope that's okay.
Creak… Groan… Squeak… Silence.
The floorboards had seen better days as a few seemed unwilling to take on even the first hint of weight without groaning in protest. The house was dark sans the moonlight leaking through the uncovered hole in the ceiling, creating a rather eerie atmosphere for anyone unfortunate enough to have not fallen asleep yet. The house smelt faintly of ashes and smoke, indicating that the occupants had likely gone to bed some time ago. It would've been creepy to have someone wondering about the dwelling at such an unholy hour, but she'd been given permission to take her leave whenever she so chose though it was doubtful this was what the main occupant had in mind when extending such an invitation.
Frankly, she wasn't exactly sure why she felt the impulse to make such an unannounced visit. She'd only been here once before and dared not wonder beyond the front room. Instinct had taught her against invading someone's nest and that had been drilled so far into her head that she could not bring herself to break it now, even for her own kin. And yet here she was, creeping about the house like an intrusive mouse that was too stubborn to leave of its own volition. There wasn't any particular reason for her visit. But something deep in her chest compelled her to invade the sense of privacy granted to one at night within their home to be here.
Maybe it was just her maternal instinct kicking in, but Valka was finding it difficult to ignore with each passing night.
Originally, she'd been planning on coming here alone but it would seem someone had other plans. Though he was too large to fit through the front door, Cloudjumper hovered outside, eagerly awaiting a sign that his rider would be returning from within. He'd contemplated coming in through the hole in the ceiling, but much like his rider, he felt uneasy invading a nest that was not his own. That and his sheer bulk on the rooftop was sure to wake someone up. Thus he sat outside the front door, his head being too wide to even fit through there courtesy of the splitting horn that sprouted forth from his forehead. He refrained from gargling a warning as best he could though his efforts could not suppress a groan from escaping.
The Stormcutter huffed indignantly, trying his best not to show any signs of worry while his rider wondered outside of his reach. After the fiasco a couple of days ago, Cloudjumper was far from eager to let Valka out of his sight for more than a few minutes. He doubted she was in any sort of danger but he liked being near her should the need to flee or fight arise. Thus he was left to wait, creating an bizarre seen for the odd fellow who was still up to see the Sharp-class dragon perched in front of the house at the top of the hill.
As for his rider? To be honest, Valka barely felt even the faintest bit relaxed within the house. Whether anyone was aware of it or not, she hadn't spent a single night with this particular roof over her head since returning to the island of her people a few days ago. In fact, Valka spent most nights nesting amongst the dragons in the stables, curled up between her own reptilian companions from the Bewilderbeast's nest.
Some of her rescued dragons were already beginning to take up roost on the isle of Berk. Even Gruff the blind Hobblegrunt was starting to make himself at home in the stables, though he still required to help of Lump the one-legged Snafflefang to make sure he didn't bump into things (or people) when he made the occasional venture out into the village for a meal or bath. Most of the time the duo relied on her multiple visits to the expanding dens as they were both still understandably wary of the locals. Thump the nearly flightless Raincutter had no such reservations as he happily hobbled around in the public, greedily snatching up fish from feeding troughs as if he'd been doing it all his life.
It hadn't even been a week yet and there was still ice around town that were marked as evidence of the beginning of the new alphas. Valka hadn't changed her clothes for a newer set and sometimes she caught herself longing for the feeling of her old staff in her hands. Still, she was finding it easier to be around people as she witnessed the Vikings' dote on their own dragons and saw how happy it made the winged basilisks to be loved by the people of this village. The same island town that used to kill them on a regular basis. The very same people who frowned at her belief in peace so long ago. The same old Vikings were asking now for her advice on how to better care for their dragon companions rather than shooting her nasty glares when she tried to force them to spare a dragon's life. Was this really the same Berk she'd called home twenty long years ago?
Valka shook her head in an attempt to dismiss such thoughts. Her braids quietly clinked together from the effort but otherwise left the room in uncomfortable silence. This was not the time to ponder her world being turned upside down on its head. The feeling in her chest returned and, before she could stop herself, she ascended the stairs, crouched down on all fours, with hardly a sound created in her wake. Old habits die hard it would seem.
Once at the top, instinct drove her to remain hunched near the floor. Valka remained stock still for a few fleeting minutes as she anticipated detection. But when nothing came other than the heavy breathing of another dragon, she crawled forward - still on all fours - and made her way further into the second floor room.
Even in the poor lighting, she could still distinguish the shape of the slumbering beast. His great gales of breath were impossible to miss. But she was stopped from approaching further. There was something about the dragon's outline that seemed off to her. Valka lingered in absolute reticence, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lighting in order to decipher what was amiss. As her eyes accommodated for the lack of overall illumination, something else caught her attention. Something that nearly caused her to fall onto her back.
A pair of jade moons flashed in the darkness, lingering on her outline and boring through her skull. The only thing stopping her from feeling alarmed was that those eyes weren't narrowed in a threatening manner. Their black pupils, which seemed darker than the surrounding room, were as wide as a dinner plate, examining her in the silence between them during their staring contest. There was no malice in his gaze even as his head rose up from the ground however she was able to detect a level of benevolence there she was not in the least bit surprised by. It was then that Valka realized what was amiss about his posture; he was lying on his side. She cocked her head to the left in a curious manner, her posture adjusting to that of a crouched position with her right hand raised from the ground, but dared not venture closer.
A soft, groggy hoot greeted her ears. She blinked and, despite her caution, Valka couldn't help but smile at the sound. Taking that as a sign, she rose partially from the floor and drew herself closer to the previously slumbering dragon. His black outline was becoming more distinguishable to her now as her eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting. Once she was within arm's reach, Valka positioned herself in a squat once more, her elbows resting on her bent knees, and her smile still firmly in place. "Toothless," she greeted tenderly, allowing traces of adoration to enter her warm tone. The ebony dragon released a faint rumble in greeting while he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. It was a rather comical sight and Valka couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't using his paws to rub his eyes. Still, he gave no signs that her presence perturbed him as he seemed perfectly content having her wake him up before even the sun began to rise.
It would seem the Night Fury was more in-tune with what was going on than she was as he closed his eyes, cocked his head downward until his chin was nearly in contact with the front of his wide throat, and emitted a hushed chirp. There was a faint rustle followed shortly thereafter by a indiscernible mumble. The shift in movement drew her attention toward the dragon's chest, which was - much to her surprise - covered by the dragon's wings to form a cocoon constructed of leather and hollow bones. Without making a peep, the upper wing drew itself back and rose up above her head like a canopy, lingering overhead as if to shield her from the rain. The rustle of membrane and bone being retracted was hardly audible. The second wing quickly followed suit, only it extended out onto the thick rock the dragon lay upon. Once the outstretched appendage unfurled, it instantaneously drew back toward the beast's torso but this time did not cover his chest up as it merely tucked itself in as best it could. It did not return to its normal position however as the dragon was practically lying on his shoulder.
Valka, however, wasn't paying attention to this little detail.
Toothless emitted a drowsy whistle of sorts that tapered off after barely three seconds but she didn't react. Still, she did reach over to stroke the dragon's snout right above his nose with gentle, calloused fingertips to quiet the beast before he awoke the room's third occupant. She didn't know why, but Valka was mesmerized. She scooted closer while remaining in her squatting position, creeping forward at a snail's pace to close a gap that wasn't even a foot in width. In retrospect it shouldn't have shocked or entranced her to see such a sight. Even in the poor lighting it was easy to distinguish his characteristics against the underbelly of the Night Fury despite the lack of a light source to illuminate him. And yet Valka couldn't stop herself from finding the sight somewhere between adorable and saddening at the same time.
There, swathed in dragon limbs, lay her only son. He was sound asleep with an odd sense of calm about him as evident by the serene look on his face. At least the parts she could discern were. The left side of his head was jammed against the dragon's chest, moving in sync with Toothless's deep breaths yet he somehow didn't seem the least bit disturbed by the rhythmic motion. The back of his cranium was wedged in the crook of the dragon's right foreleg for support. Hiccup's unruly hair looked even more so and he reeked of a mixture of pine, sweat, dragon, and burnt hair. Judging by what little parts she could distinguish, it would seem Hiccup hadn't bothered to remove his leather armor plating before taking up roost against the Night Fury and calling it a day. She might have chastised him in good fun if it were not for the fact that it would make her a hypocrite in doing so. As for his own limbs, Valka couldn't say for sure. There wasn't a blanket or pillow in sight though she knew from experience sleeping against the belly of a dragon was plenty warm enough without some extra layers being piled on top of you.
Even now Valka had a hard time imagining Hiccup as the chief of Berk. Not because she lacked faith in him or felt he was too young to take such responsibility. No. It was because she recalled all the things Stoick used to do day-in and day-out without a single vacation. The tole it took on her husband when he came home exhausted and fighting through a splitting headache that two ice blocks could barely handle. Of the hard battles he fought to keep them safe. He always used to say that "no task is too small" and dedicated his life to the village. Yet despite this Stoick had still seen time to start a family though to this day Valka still didn't fully understand his reasoning for marrying her. Not that she regretted a day spent with him. But it was in remembering these things that the idea of their son taking up those reigns astounded her.
Stoick really had been right about their son all along.
Even before her abduction, Valka could see a bond growing between father and son. Hiccup cried frequently due to numerous illnesses due to his small size but, for whatever reason, he always became silent when held in his father's burly arms. The two just stared at one another in wonder. Hiccup would take a fist-full of father's beard and gargle happily while Stoick gently swayed side to side on auto-pilot. It was something Valka could never come to terms with. She often felt as if their son took no such comfort in her as he often wailed away despite her best efforts to bring him comfort. At the time, Valka couldn't help but feel powerless; that she was getting off to a terrible start at being a first-time mother. Stoick openly claimed to her on multiple occasions that he felt the same as her about himself when it came to their tiny son. He seemed so afraid he was going to drop or crush Hiccup when she all but thrust their son into Stoick's arms after hours of trying to get Hiccup to sleep. And, in an instant, all the crying came to a stop as their son forgot about his upset tummy in favor of playing with his father's russet beard.
A flash of remorse reflected in her eyes at the distant memory she'd long forgotten.
A somber smile graced her lips as she thought back on her son's terror at just the sight of the winged basilisks when he was only just coming to know the world around him. She remembered the little cyan dragon she'd hastily made for him one afternoon while Stoick carted their wide-eyed son around the deck of a boat, explaining the ins and outs of ship-life, as if he'd been raising children all his life. Stoick had been insistent that morning that the three of them should take quick a ride around Berk to show their son the place he called home. At first, Valka had been against the idea. She feared Hiccup would get sick again as he hadn't had much time to recover from his last bout with a tenacious fever. But they'd gone anyway, doubling their son's blanket bundle just to be on the safe side.
Valka readily recalled Hiccup's first reaction to the doll she'd made for him; he'd wailed before tossing it overboard in an attempt to get away. Stoick would later jokingly comment that Hiccup had a good arm, especially for someone his size, but Valka couldn't help but get down over the ordeal. If Hiccup was afraid of a stuffed dragon, then there was little hope he would be on her side with trying to bring an end to the fighting. This fear, coupled with her growing doubts, had not helped matters once she found herself in the nest of the great Bewilderbeast, convincing herself that Hiccup would be much better off without a mother who couldn't bring him comfort, who believed differently than the rest of the island, and who gave him terror in an attempt to make him jubilant.
But here Hiccup was; twenty years old and sleeping soundly with a Night Fury. There was no father to hold him in his arms to quell the unease in the boy's heart. In his place was the alpha dragon of Berk, his thickly muscles limbs acting as a makeshift cradle for his dreaming rider. The comparison tugged at Valka's heartstrings. The very beings Hiccup once feared were the boy's first thought to run to for consolation when the man who used to unknowingly bring such things to him was not of this realm any longer.
Valka sighed quietly, her bitterness of years gone by returning to churn within her uncertain heart. Even now she couldn't be the source of comfort her son so desperately needed. She couldn't rightly blame Hiccup either. She understood the sensation of feeling safe within a dragon's proximity and the longing that comes with it to seek it out again. To this day Valka felt protected within the wings of Cloudjumper, dangling several feet up in the air as the Stormcutter preferred to sleep upside-down.
"I'm sorry, Hiccup…" she breathed softly, her voice giving way to the sadness growing in her chest. She blinked, fighting back her tears, as she leaned forward to plant a delicate kiss on the exposed corner of her son's forehead without even bothering to move his bangs aside. Valka held her breath as Hiccup's brow showed signs of movement, a weak mumble falling from his lips that didn't sound like anything more than a childish whine before his face relaxed and he fell back into a content slumber.
The idea of leaving came to mind but Valka quickly shot it down. She'd promised Hiccup that she would stay in Berk. She had already failed at being a mother to Hiccup once and she wasn't about to let him down a second time. Stubbornness kept her rooted on the spot as she mentally berated herself for thinking such an option was plausible even for one second. However, Toothless seemed acutely aware that something was amiss. Even in his groggy state, the Night Fury knew what needed to be done in order to placate the elder Viking's troubles. He nearly scared Valka out of her tunic when she felt his wrinkled nose nudge her left shoulder, eagerly emitting a merry warble. She quietly shushed him, fearing of waking Hiccup up and having to explain herself to him, though she could not mask the faint smile the Night Fury's actions brought her.
It wasn't until that she realized the irony of the situation Hiccup had placed himself in. Though it was of no fault of the Night Fury, Toothless was the one to end Stoick's life. Drago was the one to blame and, though it pained Valka to even acknowledge it, a part of her still felt twinges of rage toward the man and his reckless ambitions. But the fact that Hiccup would willingly leaving himself so vulnerable in the dragon's presence spoke untold levels of the boy's compassion for the Night Fury and his willingness to forgive someone no matter what wrongs they'd caused him. These were two major characteristics a chief must have in order to maintain the peace; something she knew her son desired.
Toothless trilled quietly again, this time a hint of curiosity entering his twitter. Valka absentmindedly reached over to scratch beneath the Night Fury's chin, hoping to put his unease to rest before Hiccup was aroused from his slumber. The dragon seemed to be pacified as he lowered his head back onto the rock and closed his eyes. "Watch over our son," she whispered under her breath. Whether Toothless heard her or not was beyond her though she assured herself the Night Fury's right ear rose up at the sound of her voice.
Feeling a bit more at ease, Valka reached forward to gently grasp the outer ridge of the dragon's wing on the rock and slowly rolled it back up and over her son. Or at least that had been her initial intention. Despite trying to convince herself of otherwise, she hesitated just before her son's head went out of sight. Valka desperately wished to hold him in much the same way the dragon was now but she dared not pull Hiccup away from Toothless for fear of waking him up. He'd had a rough day and needed a long, uninterrupted break.
Realized what she was doing, the second wing began to descend over her head, stopping once it came into contact with her cranium. The motion drew Valka out of her stupor just long enough for her hurriedly shove the rest of the dragon's wing over Hiccup before scooting out of the way as the second descended down to join the first. Toothless was either too groggy to notice or knew better than to pry. Irregardless, he drew his head up and neatly tucked his nose beneath his wingtips, his heavy breaths causing an interesting echo as the heavy gusts of wind reverberated against the tough membrane. It was safe to assume the Night Fury was already sound asleep again and that, despite the racket, Hiccup was not going to waking up again anytime soon to find his mother being a bit of a creeper from his bedroom floor. This was reassuring to say the least. At least now she wouldn't have to come up with some lame excuse as to why she felt the need to visit him so early and not wake him up. Valka wasn't honestly sure how Hiccup would take to being woken up. Twenty years and she didn't even know if her son was a morning person or not.
Not wanting to indulge on another round of self-pity, Valka rose from the floor with far less caution in her motions than before. If Hiccup wasn't going to wake up from the sound of the dragon's heavy breathing, she presumed he wouldn't even hear her footsteps as she left. Valka took a deep breath before making quick, light sprints toward the hole in the ceiling. The lithe Viking gave pause once she was standing on the mattress made of wooden planks to spy a little blue head peeking out from the headboard, its button eyes heavily chipped and its once erect yellow horns having long gone floppy with age.
A short gasp escaped her as she knelt down on one knee to get a closer look. Slowly, afraid it would disappear if she looked away, Valka reached out and gently poked the toy dragon's nose with a single fingertip. Its head moved from the pressure but it did not vanish in a puff of smoke like she was half expecting it too. An astonished gasp crept past her parting lips followed quickly by a short, airy chuckle than tickled her nose. Valka knew it was the very same one she had made Hiccup as the stitches were all in the right places. Its uneven crest of spikes on the back of its head were as crooked as she recalled. She distinctly remembered having trouble trying to get that droopy nasal horn to remain in place on the front of the dragon's snout.
She couldn't help but wonder if Stoick had something to do with this as she highly doubted Hiccup would remember such a thing and go looking for it. It was a miracle the thing was still intact and only badly discolored from what she assume was water damage. The simple fact that the stitches hadn't rotted away yet was astonishing in of itself.
It was only then that she noticed Tooth's breaths had quieted. Valka couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder, finding Toothless watching her with half-lidded, sleepy green eyes. Her smile returned, this time revealing a few teeth, before she turned and grabbed hold of the bottom rim of the rectangular hole in the ceiling. She may have been an older Viking, but she hauled herself up with as much ease a something half her age and crouched onto the edge much like an owl. She could already see Cloudjumped coming round the house, ready to catch her to take her back to stables for the remainder of the evening. But, just before she let herself slip down the side of the house, Valka looked back inside one last time. Toothless was still watching her, but his head flopped back down onto the rock to watch her with wide puppy-dog eyes, silently begging her to stay. Valka's smile dwindled as she shook her head. She raised a hand to wave, mouthing the words "good night" before vanishing out of the dragon's sight completely.
Toothless lay there for a moment longer before releasing a pathetic whine, raising his head, and tucking his nose back in to go back to sleep.
Valka, having landed with practiced ease behind Cloudjumper's head, lazily lay against the dragon's neck as he spread his wings for flight. By the time they reached the stables, the elder Viking was sound asleep, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and burden lifted from her heart.