I've been watching spoilers, because even though I don't want to be spoiled, I can't resist them when they're presented to me, and I'm so excited for the movie! I'm kind of hoping that Valka turns out like she does in my brain and later in this fic, but part of me wants to see a completely new rendition of the character. Oh, the possibilities!
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own any of this. Too lazy to think up a witty statement to add here.
"These trees…" Astrid trailed off in awe, staring up at the tall, thin trees that surrounded them. Hiccup had discovered a way to clamber down to the valley floor, and beneath a thick canopy of aspens, life sprouted wherever they placed their feet.
"Look at this flower," said Hiccup as he bent down to examine the great orange blossom more closely. He picked it by its stem and tucked it behind her ear, with a familiar soppy grin. "For you, my lady."
Astrid smirked and tugged at his arm. "Come on," she urged him forward. "There's so much more to see!" There was no path, but they were relying once again on their dragons' memories to find them. The dragons themselves had taken off and would come again when called.
There was a soft rustle in the bushes behind them, and Astrid spun around on reflex, blade drawn.
The frightened terrible terror squeaked in shock and edged further into the plants it was hiding in.
"Astrid!" Hiccup gestured to her weapon with a twinge of irritation.
"Sorry," she muttered grudgingly. "Old instinct."
Hiccup got down on his knees, holding out his hand to the small dragon. Its scales were a soft golden color that blended perfectly with the flowers surrounding them. It was obviously well adapted to its habitat.
"This is a new kind," he whispered. "I've never seen a terror this color before. And look at its horns." There was reverence in Hiccup's voice, and Astrid couldn't help but admire him. He was so curious about everything he discovered, with such great knowledge and respect of the dragons he had learned to tame.
The dragon's horns looked like pollen buds on the flowers, and its eyes were lush green. "So perfect for the place it lives," Hiccup whispered, as the terrible terror crept closer and sniffed at his hand. In only moments, it rubbed its rough head against his arm, and he scooped it up into his arms.
"Are we taking it back with us?" asked Astrid.
"I don't see great resaon to take it from its home. I'll sketch it later," Hiccup replied, setting down the golden dragon. "It's fine where it is, I would think."
Astrid nodded. Even after five years, she still couldn't read a dragons life as well as he could. She never knew whether to bring it back to Berk with them or leave it where it was. Generally the older Vikings brought back more dragons, partially out of excitement that they lived long enough to see new traditions brought to life and partially out of guilt for doubting Hiccup for so many years.
Hiccup got to his feet and glanced around. A soft wind rustled through the leaves above them, and a flock of birds squawked overhead. All was peaceful.
"I feel like…" he started, then shook his head, as if ridding an uneasy feeling. "Let's keep walking."
Astrid watched him anxiously. There was a slight but distinct tremble in his voice, that only ever showed when he was nervous or excited. But there was worry in his eyes and the quirk in his eyebrows. She may not be able to read dragons, but she could read people.
"What is it?" she asked him, her head tipped to one side with concern.
"I feel as if we're… we're being watched." He paused, and glanced around again, before turning back to Astrid. "It's just a feeling."
"Why don't we leave now?" It was strange what a little bit of fear did to one's surroundings. The breeze seemed thicker somehow, more stifling, and the trees felt like they were closing in on her. The plants opened up wide like gaping jaws, and their leaves looked like crawling insects. The thought of another, unseen presence was not something to be taken lightly. There were rogues and outcasts who lived amongst these islands, and when one cropped up, there could be deadly consequences.
Hiccup caught her eye and nodded quickly. He whistled for the dragons, and they set off for home.
The chief's hearth was burning and crackling softly as the weather began to worsen. Stoick hoped that his son and (with luck) future daughter would make it home safely. Gobber was next to him, drinking ale and telling him not to worry; after all Hiccup had survived the Red Death with "barely a scratch." Easy for Gobber to say, who had already lost two of his limbs and any sense of self-preservation.
"Don't worry yourself, Stoick. The boy will be fine."
"Gobber," he said tightly, "the last time we were out with dragons in such a storm - though perhaps for a different cause- Valka died. She died because of her own curiosity, and I don't want the same thing to happen to Hiccup."
"But she was right, wasn't she?" said Gobber, taking another swig of ale. "She was right about dragons. So what's the worst trouble Hiccup can get himself into out there."
"You know, you aren't really helping my guilt."
"I'm not your counselor Stoick; I'm just your friend."
Stoick sighed. "Do you remember her, Gobber?"
"Like yesterday."
"You remember what she used to tell me, when I was pondering my grudges and hoping I would find the heart to leave them in the past?"
Gobber shot a sidelong glance at his friend.
"She used to tell me 'old wounds may heal, but they always leave scars.' And the bitter irony of it all, is that I never understood what she meant until she died. I look at Hiccup, and I see her. I see all my pains and worries come rushing back, no matter what's changed since then."
"And you can't bear to see him fight against all these traditions that she hated too," Gobber finished for him.
"Every night I worry he won't come home. And this night especially." Stoick glanced at the door, behind which lightning flashed occasionally. "There hasn't been such a storm brewing since the night she died."
"No, there hasn't. But Hiccup will be fine. He knows what he's doing out there."
"I hope so."
"Well, that's it then!" shouted Hiccup in exasperation. "We are stranded for the night on this barren, forsaken hunk of rock that only the most generous would call an island. Marvelous."
"We can't fly through that storm, Hiccup. It's too dangerous. We'll just have to wait until it passes." Astrid watched him sympathetically, gathering sticks to build a fire. "Just be happy we have dragons to light our fire and keep us warm in this weather." She looked up at the sky, from which rain was tumbling down in massive droplets, and thunder echoed about the empty rock they were standing on.
"Astrid, this place is dead! Something came along and burned everything that was alive here! We have no food save the little we brought with us, and whatever saw fit to scorch what was probably a pretty nice swath of forest is still out there! It could be watching us right now!"
Something occurred to Astrid as she listened to her boyfriend rant. "You think?" she asked, setting down the sticks and tapping Stormfly's chin. The dragon caught her eye and lit their fire as she sat beside it. "You really think that we're being followed? I can see how worried you are. You thought we were being watched while we were exploring the Urovior, and now you're scared that whatever was hunting us tailed us here."
"Yes," said Hiccup sincerely, sitting down next to her. "That's exactly what I think. But what if it's not a dragon that's after us? What if it's a rogue or an outcast, living out some sadistic revenge fantasy against Berk? Just stalking and killing any Vikings who come this way?"
Astrid rested her head on his should and said reassuringly, "Then I'll gut him and feed him to Stormfly for trying to hurt us."
Hiccup snorted in amusement. "I could live with that."
"So you don't have the stomach to slay a dragon, but you could take out another human any day."
"Yeah, pretty much." He turned to face her. "Do you ever wonder if there are others out there?"
"Other what?"
"Other riders. If someone else has discovered what we have?"
"I'm sure someone has," Astrid replied quietly, her eyelids beginning to droop. Stormfly had curled up and was snoring softly, while Toothless caught raindrops in his mouth, showing no signs of exhaustion as of yet. "I don't know whether there's another village like ours, but maybe one or two people somewhere."
"Maybe," Hiccup whispered with a wide yawn. "We can go back in the morning. For now, let's just go to sleep, whenever Toothless shuts up and stops chasing bugs."
Smeagol: Reviewses, my precious! We loves reviewses!
Gollum: We hates you all! We only loves the precious!
Me: You realize how awkward it is to be trapped in the middle of a schizophrenic hobbit's argument with himself?
Galadriel: If you haven't been to Valinor recently, then you do not know the definition of awkward. With no evil to rid from the world, no one has any idea what to do with themselves. I have been demoted from the Lady of the Golden Wood to a psychologist for Elves suffering a mid-life crisis.
Valka: You don't know what a mid-life crisis is until you abandon all of humanity and spend the next twenty years of your life becoming one with nature and dragons.
Galadriel: That was not a mid-life crisis. You could have gone back and made amends at any time.
Smeagol: Personally, we thinkses a mid-life crisis could really entitle selling your soul to a ring of power and becoming eternally schizophrenic sort-of hobbit.
Frodo: If anyone would ask my opinion...
Me: No. We have enough people arguing in this fic anyways. We don't need another voice joining in. Try someone else, no thank you, good bye. Oh, and review on your way out, would you? *hopeful grin*
Frodo: You're desperate.