Rights: Dreamworks and such. Not me. Nope

Previous Stories in the Dragons: Champions Series (In Order): Standing Against, Standing Between

I Bring The Thunder

Note: Hey, you know all those stories I've written before this one? If you haven't read them already, you should do that and come back later.

Author's Notes (so many notes):

Let me answer the question that I'm sure a few of you have: why is this story shorter? Why is it not part of the last story? Well, the reason is a philosophical one.

When you're trying to get your work published, you have to deal with size limitations. Only the most successful authors can get away with 1000-page epics. For the rest of us, it's "cut this" and "reduce that" and "that ending sucks." For any writer, it's part of the challenge of the profession, but it's still hard to convey your point in an entertaining fashion with only 4000 words to spare (if you want to write a boring, pedestrian story that comes off like a high school English paper, it's not so difficult). So the nice thing about fan fiction is that the only real limitation is your personal assessment on the length it takes you to tell your story.

That said, a good story still needs to be efficient. It should be long enough to do the job and not go off on useless subplots that ultimately go nowhere. Mind you, that can be a subjective call. One writer's useless subplot is another writer's description of character growth. For me, I felt that this new story needed to deal with the direct and personal aftermath of I Bring The Thunder instead of the central focus of the Champions series. So instead of attaching it to the final story, it gets its own presentation.

That said… again… there are plot developments and characters introduced here that tie into the final story. So you can't skip over this one and read the last installment without scratching your head and going "Whaa…?" So, yeah, read it.

A few odds and ends before we begin:

Check my profile for what is considered canon and non-canon in my series.

There will be characters here from the Dragons: Riders of Berk TV series, but you shouldn't have to watch the show to understand who there are. If a character's background is a mystery to you, rest assured that they won't stay a mystery for long.

This series features a lot of original characters (OCs), but you can never be sure who'll show up from here on out.

That's it. As always, hope you enjoy.

Prologue

Dad doesn't talk about my mother much… or at all.

Bear in mind, most Vikings are a feisty bunch who think a story doesn't end well if the hero doesn't die in the end, even in children's tales, like the story of how Mudpie the Incorrigible met his fate during an epic game of tag. We have a Great Hall to honor the dead, our chief professions revolve around flirting with death on a daily basis, and we choose to live in the most inhospitable regions on the planet. Death is not taboo to us.

So it has always bothered me that Dad never talks about what happened to Mom. The only one of two times he ever discussed it with me was the day he told me she was never coming back. That one night many years ago, when I was maybe three or four years. Dad and Mom had gone on some dragon-hunting mission out on the sea and I was with a few other kids being watched over by one of the other village mothers. Dad walks into our home wearing one of the most solemn faces I've ever seen him wear. He asks everyone else to leave and then sits me down for probably the shortest and saddest conversation we've ever had. I know I cried a lot over the news, but I don't think Dad shed one tear. I don't think he ever has. It's no accident that he earned his name Stoick that day.

Nobody else would talk about it, either. Not our place to do so, they'd tell me over and over. No Viking funeral or anything, because she was lost out on the ocean, or so I believed… and still believe. Yeah, even today, I still don't know what happened to her, and I've given up trying to find out. I suspect it would only lead to more sorrow at this point.

I did get courageous enough to ask Dad about it many years later, that second time I mentioned. We had just come home from repealing the latest dragon raid on Berk, Dad cleaning his weapons and me cleaning myself off after nearly getting trampled by a stampede of terrified sheep (long story). Maybe it was my blood being too pumped that night for me to think clearly, but I went and asked him about mother, why he never talks about her and why he keeps the details of the terrible night to himself. I expected a lot of different reactions from him ranging from angry to really angry to really, really angry, mostly because everyone else did their best to dodge around the issue and that usually meant they didn't want a warhammer to the nose for discussing the matter.

Instead, he calmly sits me down again, much like we did all those years ago, and he tells me in a gentle tone that he doesn't talk about it because he doesn't want to dwell on how things ended with her. He prefers to dwell on her deeds, her tenacity, and her love. The Valkyries carry the best of us off to a better place and the rest of us… make do, but we all face the same end, eventually. He chooses to not focus on the end, but on the journey he shared with her for a time.

Despite his namesake, my dad isn't as stoic as he claims. That night, right after he got done with his speech, something about his face changed. He looked… lost, like he didn't actually believe what he was saying, and was uttering it for my benefit. That's when he added a piece of wisdom that I've never forgotten, probably will never forget:

"For all I've just said, son, there's a lesson in life we all must learn, and it's a lesson learned hard. There will be a point in time where no matter how good a Viking you are, no matter how many enemies you've slain or how many Vikings shout your name in cheer or even how favored you are by Odin himself, you'll realize you're helpless to avoid one true certainty in life: that someday, you're going to lose someone you care about, and it's going to hurt. A lot."

I thought I understood what he meant. I thought I already knew what loss meant.

But I didn't really understand. Not until now.