Part 4 of my series, Experiments in Alternates. This one is D for Dragon riders! As always, though this is part of a series, this can be read without reading the other parts.
I'm posting this much later than I intended, but what started as a single short scene got away from me and continued growing to a startling length, and I didn't want to post anything until I was satisfied with all of it. And then I went back and forth for ages and finally decided to at least post the beginning, which I enjoyed writing even more than I thought I would (and I expected to have tons of fun). Then I was basically like "screw it, let's make this thing multi-chapter." So only four letters of the alphabet and already my AU series is warped. Whatever, it's called experiments for a reason I guess! Anyway, enjoy the first chapter to my was-supposed-to-be-a-one-shot but ended up exploding with a pile of dragon awesomeness. I'll post the rest as soon as I can and probably come back and do some minor edits to this chapter.
John woke early one morning, the beginning light of the sunrise streaming through the window, bathing everything in a soft orange and pink glow. He straggled out of bed, yawning and attempting to smooth his tousled blond hair. A scuffling and growling filtered in through the walls from the next room. John rolled his eyes and opened the door to find Baldr crouched there, eyes wide and eager as he stared up at John. The rider smiled widely and reached out to scratch behind the dragon's ear. His red-gold scales felt cool and smooth under John's fingers.
"Ready to go, then?" John asked with a smirk. Baldr gave him a look, as if to say are you really asking me that? Together, dragon and rider headed out the door of their cottage, greeting the brisk morning air as they took to the skies.
Once in flight, John let Baldr take them wherever he wanted, trusting the dragon to not get them into trouble. Baldr was reliable and tough, willing to do whatever John wanted, or to take charge when needed. They made the best team, John thought proudly as he leaned back in the leather saddle, savoring the wind on his face. He smiled at the sensation, running his hand down Bladr's side, feeling his muscles rippling as he pumped his powerful, parchment-like wings. Baldr gave a gurgle, glancing back at his rider with a fond look in his dark eyes.
John swiveled his gaze across the wide expanse before him. The dwellings of his island village on the mountainside were so many spots in the distance, and all around him was ocean and sky. Everything was clear and blue and free. John grinned as Baldr went into a soaring glide, and he spread his arms to catch the thin clouds around them. A sense of serenity of a sort he'd never felt anywhere but here settled over him. It was as if all burdens had been left behind on solid ground.
The skies gave him freedom.
Baldr broke the glide and began gaining altitude again, so John leaned forward and grasped the front of the saddle.
"What do you say," he called. "Want to see what they've got in store today?"
Baldr gave an affirmative hum and tensed slightly as he tilted to the side, John copying him in perfect synchrony. They could read each other so well, understood one another without having to say anything at all. It had taken years of practice, but now the two of them could sense the other's ideas, and fly accordingly. Pushing and pulling and guiding one another, they had mastered a sort of ebb and flow of leadership. John was as important to the flying as Baldr. John often marveled at it in quieter moments, wondering if he could ever have such understanding, such deep connection, with a human.
Now, however, he let such thoughts slide away, turning his full focus to flying. Together, dragon and rider soared toward a long expanse of stone pillars, which rose from the ocean depths like grand columns of some ceiling-less council hall of sea kings. Legends gave various accounts of the pillars' origin, from angry ocean vents to supernatural meeting places of ancient otherworldly beings. Not that it mattered to John where they came from; no, all that mattered was the challenge they posed.
Because while the pillars were ever-increasing in height, the uppermost pieces were continually battered by winds, rains, and crashing waves. So that meant that frequently, just often enough to make it exciting for John and Baldr, massive chunks of stone broke free from the tops of the pillars and crashed down into the sea.
So if soaring through the tight maze of rock formations wasn't a challenge enough, there were always gargantuan boulders tumbling down, ready to crush any human and dragon that got in their way.
"Ready?" John cried over the wind whistling through the stones. Baldr didn't reply beyond throwing himself into a hover, and John reached down, clutching his handhold on the saddle.
The pillars looked promising today. The sun was at just the right angle to make it hard to see as its beams bounced off the water's surface, the waves were high thanks to the intense air currents, and John could see dozens of stone pieces teetering on the tops of their pillars, prepared to fall at any moment.
Excellent.
"Come on!" he called, a grin spreading across his face. Baldr shrieked in reply, and then they were off.
Baldr's nimble body dove through the maze, unerringly avoiding collision with the pillars or with the tossing waves. With John's help, the dragon navigated the tight gaps and unpredictable wind currents. They darted through stone arches and over choppy air, under the crest of a particularly tall wave, and then swooped around the first falling rock.
John gave a yell of joy and excitement, adrenaline coursing through him. Baldr dove again, letting loose a shriek of his own, and John grinned.
This was life.
They navigated the maze formed by the pillars differently each time, turning randomly and without thought. And the pillars changed so quickly, usually between five to ten new ones each year and old ones crumbling all the time, that the landscape was never truly the same. Thus the challenge never lessened, and that was the best part to John.
Not to mention this was his realm, and his alone. No other dragon riders came here, too afraid of the stories and rumors, the mortal danger associated with the place. It was John's alone, his domain, his escape.
They were in sight of the end now, still dodging the obstacles as Baldr increased their speed more and more, clearly just as excited as John. The rider bent low over the saddle, bracing himself as he spotted another rock ahead begin its rapid descent toward the ocean.
It was then, out of what seemed to be nowhere, that a dark shape crossed over them, so close that John felt something brush the top of his head. He yelled in shock, and Baldr started in fear, his flight pattern stuttering for a moment.
Just the wrong moment, too. A vicious updraft caught them, and Baldr was tossed to the side, almost into a pillar. He missed it by a hair's breadth, John clinging to the saddle with a vice-like grip. But then the falling rock clipped them, and John cried out again as Baldr let out a screaming sound John had never heard before.
The next thing he knew, he was falling, the wind rushing past his ears. His mind barely had time to comprehend what was happening before he hit the icy water.
The shock and intensity of the impact forced all the breath from his lungs in an instant, and he floundered in the waves, reaching blindly for Baldr. But he felt nothing, and his vision was flickering, and he was sinking...
Silver was the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness. The silver shine of two intelligent eyes looking at him.
John came back to consciousness slowly, the first thing he heard being a low growl. He opened his eyes, but the only thing he saw was Baldr's wing draped over him. He sat up, lifting the thin membrane-lined appendage, but Baldr shifted protectively around him, growling.
John looked past his dragon and found himself on the top of one of the shorter, newer pillars. They were barely ten meters above the ocean surface; every wave that hit their perch tossed frigid spray over them. Clearly Baldr had pulled him out of the ocean, as his dragon's hide was streaming with rivulets of water.
John shivered and laid a gentle hand on Baldr's side in gratitude, but the dragon didn't acknowledge him, staring straight ahead with his teeth bared. John followed his gaze and saw that they had company on the stone. The pillar wasn't overly wide in diameter, but it was large enough to accommodate a dragon the same size as Baldr. This meant they were evenly matched, at least, John thought as he attempted to reassure himself, watching this newcomer.
The shimmering mass of scales slunk toward them, low to the ground. The dragon's hide was dark purple, so dark it was nearly black at some angles, its body sleek and streamlined, thinner and longer than Baldr. Its eyes flashed warily, deep silver and sparkling with intelligence. John realized they were the eyes he had seen before blacking out and sinking beneath the water's surface. He tensed. This was not a dragon species he was familiar with, so his first thought was that this was an Unfriendly, one of the wild dragons far from human settlements which no one had ever managed to train. They were vicious and much deserving of their name.
Luckily, this couldn't be an Unfriendly, for on top of the dragon sat a rider clad in black and silver, his face obscured by a helmet made in a style John was unfamiliar with. In fact, everything about this man spoke to him being alien to John's village. John tensed slightly, stepping closer to Baldr's side.
The other dragon stopped a few feet from John and Baldr, and the former watching silently as the new rider dismounted.
"You're a risk taker." The voice, a steely, icy baritone, sounded amused in a rather sly way. "Though I would have thought an obviously experienced rider like yourself would not have been so startled by the presence of another dragon in the sky that it resulted in a rather spectacular crash."
John scowled as best he could, despite his chattering teeth. Between the wet plunge minutes ago and the rushing wind, he was freezing. Baldr curled closer, evidently sensing this. "No one else is ever out here," John replied to the other rider, who still hadn't revealed his face.
As if reading John's mind, the other man reached up and slid the helmet off, shaking out a tumbling mass of inky curls. He fixed his gaze on John again, green-gray eyes reflecting teasing amusement even from this distance.
"Riding alone can be dangerous," he smirked.
John glared. "I don't know who you think you are, but you could have nearly killed me and my dragon with your little stunt back there. And you have no right to warn me of anything. You aren't from around here, so you don't get to tell me what is and isn't safe."
The amusement didn't leave the other's countenance. He leaned against his dragon's side, idly stroking its scaly neck with fingers so pale they looked like porcelain. "How do you know I'm not from around here?"
John blinked and hesitated, but not for long. "Because I'm the best dragon rider there is in this archipelago, and I'd know if there was someone flying a dragon like that." He nodded at the argent-eyed creature, who was snarling softly at him.
The mysterious rider's eyebrows raised, that annoying smirk still on his lips. "The best rider," he repeated, his tone making it blatantly clear his skepticism. "We'll have to see about that, won't we?"
John narrowed his eyes. "Is that a challenge?"
"Bravo," the other mocked. "Glad to see you're keeping up."
"Listen mate," John snarled, finished with this game. "I don't know who you are, which means you're trespassing on my village's territory. So I'll give you one chance to go back where you came from before I signal our border guards to deal with you."
He was technically not bluffing; he did have a signal flare in his pack strapped on Baldr, but he assumed it would be next to useless after the dip into the water. The other rider just rolled his eyes, looking almost bored by the threat.
"Please," he muttered. "For someone obviously important in your village's workings you are sadly lacking in information. I live there now."
"You what?" John asked, aghast. Baldr tensed and released puffs of smoke from each nostril. The other dragon did the same, gaze locked threateningly on Baldr.
"You heard me," the other ride replied, laying a placating hand on his steed before things escalated between the two dragons. "I live in your village now. Best get used to it," he smirked again, a definite wicked glint in his ocean-colored eyes. "I have a feeling I'll be throwing you off your game more often from now on."
He made as if to climb back on his dragon, but John wasn't quite ready to let this prat leave. "Oi, hang on," he called.
The taller man paused, an eyebrow raised. "Yes?"
"First you knock me off my dragon, then you don't even bother to help get me out of danger. I should at least know your name." He glared, Baldr hissing in assent.
"Please," the other scoffed. "I didn't actually touch you, let alone knock you off. And considering the wind speeds and rate at which the boulder was falling, you would have collided with it even without my presence startling you."
John scowled. "Yeah? How would you even know that? And for that matter, how do you know I have an important role in the village?"
"I know much more than that," he smirked. "I also know you're the best rider in your village, having won over fifty - no, fifty-five - races in the past few years since you've been competing. I know you have your sights set on becoming the new Captain of the Riders, but are concerned you won't be appointed for years. I know without the adrenaline and flying you feel nothing is worth anything in your village. And I know that you've been hiding an injury from your friends for months out of fear you will have to stop flying. Even your family doesn't know. Your brother suspects but he is too busy dealing with his recent breakup to take the time to worry about you." His smirk widened, probably at John's slack jaw. "That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?"
He swung back onto his own saddle, replaced his helmet on his head, and turned the dragon about. As the wings stretched out, the rider glanced back over his shoulder.
"The name's Sherlock Holmes, by the way. I look forward to startling you again."
He took off, soaring up above the tops of the pillars and winging away toward the village. John stared after him, agape. It was only once Baldr had nudged him several times that he shook himself out of the vision of that wicked smirk and turned to his dragon.
Baldr was bleeding, he realized in horror. A long stream of shockingly bright blood was oozing out of a gash in one of his hind legs.
"Oh no," John murmured, dropping to his knees and examining the wound. It must have been inflicted by the falling rock, he supposed. Baldr was shaking slightly, which worried John. They would have to get back home; he didn't have adequate supplies to treat this out here.
"Come on, mate," John said, leaping back onto Baldr's back. "Let's get you fixed up. And don't worry. That arrogant sod isn't going to get the better of us a second time, that I promise you."
Baldr gave an assenting grumble, his determination practically emanating off him as he spread his wings and launched himself into the air. It was good to have a teammate, John thought.
Especially against a prat like that Sherlock Holmes.
Huzzah for geologically-improbably rock formations! ;)
Quick note: This is *heavily* inspired by the How to Train Your Dragon films, but isn't set in Berk, just somewhere in the same universe. No Hiccup or Toothless here, sorry! Also the dragons are named after various mythological figures from not just Norse but also Greek and Roman - except Molly's dragon, who is named after a character I love from the Shannara Chronicles tv show.
Also in my head, Sherlock's dragon is the color of The Purple Shirt of Sex.