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Jarin and the Legacy of Nartara Chapter One – Seasons Change
"He watched me draw a picture of him in the sand. I didn't hear him approach. Just the noises he was making when he reached my side. Then he did something I never would have expected. He tore a limb off a tree and began drawing a picture of his own. It began with a large irregular shape that encompassed me and my drawing. Then he stopped, glanced at me, and then tapped the end of the limb on the ground, as if to mark a spot. Then he began to draw several irregular shapes inside the big one. He was so focused on it that he nearly knocked my head off with the leafy end of the limb, Finally he tossed the limb aside and sat there watching me...
"I stood up and began to walk towards the outside of the shape, and stepped on one of the lines he drew. His growl made me stop and lift my foot. The growl turned to almost a contented purr. Did he really react to me stepping on what he drew? I had to test it. I put my foot down on the line again, and again he growled. Deciding to have a little fun, I stepped on the line again, and this time he not only growled, but crouched down as if getting ready to pounce. Clearly he was not as amused as I was.
"If I was going to get out of his drawing, I needed to do it without stepping on a line. So I began taking steps into the smaller irregular shapes, turning, sidestepping, back-stepping, almost like a dance. Finally I reached the edge and found myself in the space occupied by the spot where he tapped the ground with the stick. And I realized I was now standing right in front of him, with my back to him.
He looked down at me, waiting to see what I would do next. His eyes shone with a burning intelligence and curiosity. I tried once again to reach out and touch him. And again he bared his teeth at me and growled. But this time he did not retreat. In that moment, I realized what his drawing was about. He WANTED me to get close to him, but he was controlling the terms of the meeting. How intelligent was he? I considered the shapes he drew. The way they were laid out, based on natural movement without decision as to which space I wouldn't step in, my steps would lead me right to the shape with the dot in it. He planned it.
I still wanted to touch him. Maybe he would let me. if I let him be in control. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and faced away from him. I held my hand out, open in a non-threatening way, palm towards him. This was dangerous. If he really meant to harm me, I was completely open to attack.
He made his move. I felt his nose against my palm. He was nuzzling me, much like a dog would. I was thrilled. Relief and joy washed over me, and I looked at him... His eyes were closed. When he opened them he saw I was looking at him and snorted. No teeth bared this time. But he quickly turned aside and dashed away. Clearly, that was as far as things would go, and I had no mind to press the matter. It was getting late, I was hungry, and I needed to get back.
It was a breakthrough... It was amazing. What, I wondered, would the days ahead lead to. Would he really trust me? Could I really trust him? How many pages of the Book of Dragons would I be able to fill about the Night Fury from just what I could observe? An intriguing thought then came to mind. The other entries in the Book of Dragons focused on how Dragons killed. How they could BE killed. How to fight them. Did anyone ever bother to learn how they lived and behaved when nobody was swinging a sword or axe at them? Sure they were deadly dangerous. But then so were we. At the time, I had no idea that such thoughts would lead to what I can only call a golden age for Berk. Where Dragon and Viking regard each other with mutual respect, and even adoration.
Tarina marked the page in the book she was reading, A History of Dragon Training, Volume One, by Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, First Rider of Berk. She smiled with fondness thinking back to the moment she experienced the Dragon Bond with Shadowhorn, her fiancé's Monstrous Nightmare. It was a wonderful experience: joy and belonging wrapped up in one powerful emotional surge that started in the heart and spread to the extremities, resulting in momentary weakness in the knees. She had known no other feeling like it, so far.
She would be married soon, and her husband-to-be, Jarin, truly made her feel like a woman should: Save, Secure, Adored and Respected. She had known abuse from her father ever since her mother and little brother were killed during a dragon raid several years back. Abuse and nothing but warnings about how men only wanted one thing from her, and would do everything they could to take it. The warnings were true, sadly. Nartara had deteriorated from a peaceful island paradise to a place where chaos reigned. The streets were not safe at night, and there were stories spreading all over just before she left of rape and murder even in the more higher-class areas of town. She was glad she had left.
She would not stay gone forever. There was a plan in motion, made easier by her father's insane movement of having taken Stoick the Vast, Chief of Berk, prisoner when he was in Nartara on a diplomatic mission a few months ago. Stoick had agreed on the plan, and preparations were under way. Taking a diplomat hostage when no formal declaration of hostility had been made was in fact a formal declaration of hostility on Nartara's part. One which Berk had the right to act on without restraint. And the plan was to act. A small fleet of ships would land on Nartara supported from the air by the Riders of Berk on their dragons. Stoick would lead the fleet, and his son, Hiccup, would be leading the dragon riders.
The plan involved one other element, which she had yet to tell her fiancé. But that was about to change. There would be no secrets from him. Truth be told, she would have shared it with him before now, but he was so protective of her that she knew that he would try to talk her out of it, she wouldn't budge, and then they would go without speaking to each other, and she did not want that. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. She stood up from her reading chair and placed the book on the small table.
She did not have to ask who it was. The Gronckle guarding the house would have alerted her the moment he so much as smelled an unauthorized person approaching. She opened the door, and there was Jarin standing before her. His shoulder-length hair tied back by a leather cord, his horned Viking helmet, a gift that Stoick presented him at Hiccup's request for achieving such great success in training and caring for two Monstrous Nightmares who were both victims of terrible abuse. He wore a gray sash over his traditional Berk-style green and brown attire. A golden dragon wing symbol was embroidered on the sash, making it a formal badge of office as a Rider of Berk. He was now an Intermediate trainer, and she had become a junior trainer. She smiled at him, and traced the edge of the symbol with her finger.
"It suits you so well, Jarin," she said as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "I am so glad that they gave it to you."
Jarin grinned sheepishly. "In all honesty, my love, I still don't feel worthy. But then, I always have been my own worst critic."
"If you say so, chief," she said, returning his grin and watching him roll his eyes. It wasn't long ago that he called everyone else "chief" because of his lowly origins as a farmhand, which put pretty much everyone else above him. She sort of felt like that now, at least here in Berk. In Nartara, it would have been a different story. Regardless of how her father treated her, she was still seen as the daughter of a Chief, and was accorded the respect her station entailed. If she snapped her fingers and told someone to jump, then they had better do it, unless the Chief himself countermanded her command, which he seldom did, because she seldom gave commands that would reach his attention. But here on Berk, she had no authority. She was a guest, until she was married to Jarin.
The marriage traditions troubled her a bit. By Viking law, a marriage was to be publicly consummated. She was a chief's daughter and the law applied double strong to her. The fact that she no longer saw her father as worthy or mentally fit to be Chief did not matter. Stoick may officiate over the marriage ceremony, but she and Jarin could not be officially married until they publicly consummated the marriage in Nartara.
"I need to tell you something, Jarin," she said, her smile replaced with a serious expression.
"I'm listening," he said.
She took a deep breath and sighed. "You know that a raid is being planned against my home. But what you do not know is one of the major details of that plan."
The silence seemed to drag as she seemed to be looking at something far away. "What detail might that be?" he asked.
"I'm coming with Stoick on his ship. I'll be riding the Toram's dragon. I'm going to challenge my father, Gelbrun the Mad, for his position as leader of my people."
She, Jarin and the people of Berk had enjoyed a season of peace and growth. But as always was the case, seasons change...
This is Chapter One of my second story concerning Jarin. If you have not already done so, check out my first story, "Jarin and the Riders of Berk."
Please let me know what you think.
