Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters: Becky, Amalie, Jasmine and Eret's parents. All rights go to DreamWorks, including the parodied lyrics of Yocheved's lullaby from the Prince of Egypt. I've also included a few lines from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. All of those rights go to Disney.

This fanfiction deals with heavy subjects such as sexual abuse (not in detail), suicidal thoughts, panic/anxiety attacks and PTSD. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 1

~.~

This is our fort. Or it was our fort. Until a stupid ice-spitting dragon came and stole all of our dragons and blasted our fort to bits.

Who am I? Oh, sorry. I'm Becky. I used to live on Berk; in fact I used to be with Hiccup, the son of the Chief of Berk. Till Hiccup cast me out for no apparent reason three years ago.

Since then, I've met my husband, Eret, son of Eret. Drago didn't originally approve of me until he found a good use for me.

That's right. I'm Drago Bludvist's personal wench.

I, unfortunately, have no choice in the matter. What does Eret think of it? He's furious with Drago, but of course he'd never say anything. Now, don't go accusing Eret of something he didn't do; Eret has never said anything because he loves me and wants to protect me the best he can.

And also because he learned not to cross Drago (in a bad way) the hard way about a year ago.

Eret does what he can to comfort me when he's not ordering his crew around or scrambling to catch dragons for Drago's dragon army. The only reason I need comforting is because I'm plagued with nightmares; Eret gets them, too, but not for the same reason as me. But I comfort Eret all the same.

What do I do when I'm not Drago's wench? I help Eret order people around. Don't tell Eret, but some of his crew think I'm better at ordering people around than he is.

You see that broad-shouldered, brown-haired shortish guy over there? That's Teeny. Why he has that name (besides his size), I'm not sure; not even Eret knows.

Speaking of names, that roundish guy next to Teeny is No-Name.

Man, what is it with these people and names?

Eret is about 6 feet, 4 inches tall. He has dark brown hair that is usually in a ponytail and a beautiful pair of golden brown eyes. He has a bluish-gray chin tattoo and he wears a brown fur vest with a red, white, and brown tunic underneath and bluish-black pants with gray and brown fur-trimmed boots. He has a largish nose (in his opinion) and is in the middle of being tan and being pale. Eret is 25 years old.

Oh, you're wondering what I look like? I'm about 5 feet and I look young but I hate it when people think I'm younger than I actually am and that I'll like looking young when I'm older; I'm 20 years old. I have brown hair that I usually put up in a ponytail and my outfit is a yellow mid-length sleeved tunic that goes a little bit past my knees and has some of the fabric torn off at the bottom. I also wear brownish leggings with brown fur-trimmed boots. I have skin that is in the middle of being tan and pale and a diamondish-shaped face and hazel eyes.

Backstory time!

When Eret and I met, I was drifting on a piece of what was left of my boat, malnourished and dehydrated, after I had been banished since my boat was taken over by Scauldrons about 3 weeks post-banishment.

Eret didn't have the heart to let me keep drifting, so he and his crew took me in, none of us knowing what Drago would do to me.

Eret and I didn't exactly see eye-to-eye when we first met, as I thought kidnapping dragons for a dragon army was like leading Vikings into a battle without knowing what you'd be facing. Eret then explained to me how he had been captured by Drago when he was younger, but I still wouldn't budge. Soon, Eret grew on me, despite the fact we didn't agree, but eventually I knew kidnapping dragons was the only way for us to survive Drago.

Eret was about 23 then and I was about 18. I became Drago's personal wench basically the day he and I met, but, when Drago wasn't doing what he does to me, Eret and I had a secret romance.

Until Drago found out just days before my 19th birthday. Surprisingly, Drago let Eret and I be together…but on one condition: I'm still Drago's personal wench.

You win some, you lose some, I guess.

Eret and I were soon married after that, but Drago doesn't let me "do it" with anyone but him. Which sucks. A lot. But Drago doesn't do it for the kids, oh, no, he just does it for his own personal enjoyment. Lucky me.

But, luckily, because of Drago's age and his business booming, he does it less and less nowadays. Yay for me, I suppose.

Back to the present…

I walk up to Eret, who is busy ordering people around – as usual – on a ledge from what's left of our fort, when I spot something in the sky. Something familiar…but…no, it couldn't be. Could it?

"Uh, Eret? Incoming dragons!" I say.

"Thanks for the heads-up, love. Fire!" Sven, the net-keeper, fires the net towards the dragons as Eret and I race down the steps. I draw out my sword, just in case, as Eret and I reach the intruders; Eret had taught me how to swordfight last year.

I step aside and let my husband do the work preparing for tying down the Deadly Nadder we had caught. Something feels very familiar about this dragon, but I hope I'm wrong.

"Watch the tail!" Eret warns us as he jumps from his hiding place and onto the Nadder, beginning to tie it up.

"Tie those legs up!" Eret says.

It's then I hear the familiar piercing sound of a Night Fury. A sound I know all too well.

"Is that what I think it is?" Eret asks as he ties up the dragon's beak.

"STOP!" I recognize the voice immediately.

Oh, no. This is not good.