The air had ceased to move as the soft breezes quieted and stopped, leaving the ocean an eerily placid surface. The Outcast ships sat almost completely still, their mighty masses shifting ever so slightly under the weight of heavy footsteps. The archers would remain on the ships, shooting their arrows from a safe distance while giving the illusion that they were keeping the Hooligans from rescuing their heir. Alvin, atop the violet Nightmare lead the men down to the shore, where they spread out with weapons ready as they waited for Stoick to lead his men to their deaths.
One of the Gronckles and the Zippleback, along with their riders and a handful of men had been sent around the island to attack the village once the main fight had started. Alvin was sure that Stoick would leave men behind to protect the village, but he wanted what was left of it ready for himself and the men once they had won. The other Gronckle and the Nadder were to remain on the shores with them, each at a far corner of the men, ready to attack. He knew that the dragons were making him over confident, but he refused to let that ease go to his head. The Hooligan's had dragons of their own, and they would fight hard to protect their homes.
Alvin's hand hovered above the hilt of his sword as the sweat dripped down his bearded face. Without a breeze the suns harsh warmth bore down on them without mercy, making them shift uncomfortably in their armor. The Nightmare, which Alvin had taken to calling Bloodletter yawned lazily as its legs stretched out before it. Alvin gripped the dragon's horns forcing it back upright before he could fall off its back. "Be patient, beast." He commanded quietly as his gaze returned to the trees along the distant shore.
The definition returned to his surroundings when the first sounds of movement filled their ears. Alvin's eyes readjusted under the hazy heat as the foliage moved about, revealing the Hooligan warriors as they came forward. He felt the grin twist over his lips as he closed his hand over the hilt of his sword, ready to pull it out.
Stoick lead the men and women of Berk out from the trees and onto the heated sands, his weight leaned into Thornado and his sword ready. The Outcasts numbers were greater then he'd counted now that they were all off of the ships, but there were still more Hooligans. He immediately noticed the two missing dragons, and he was sure that Alvin had sent them to the village. Let them go... He though with a stern grin. The teens he had left with the other warriors had more control of their dragons then the Outcasts could fathom.
Stoick halted the men and urged Thornado forward a few steps before stopping, staring Alvin down. "Where's Hiccup?"
Alvin laughed. "He's on the ship, surrender now and you can take him with you. Spend a bit of time together before you die."
Stoick shook his head. He knew that the chances of getting Hiccup off of that ship alive were slim, but he refused to surrender his people to death. "There will be no surrender." He said to the cheers of his warriors.
"Have it yer way." Alvin shouted as the Outcasts echoed their own cheers, weapons raised.
Both chiefs held their swords high, their dragons charging across the sand leaving trails of dust in their wake. The first clash of steel ignited the battle, sending warriors of each tribe running against one another. With Spitlout and Gobber to command them, Stoick wasn't too worried about the Hooligan warriors, leaving his focus on Alvin unhindered. Amidst the snapping jaws of their dragons, both men swung their swords with near deadly accuracy. Had they been on their own feet blood would have been spilt.
The clash of weapons echoed over the sands, drifting in and out of angry yells and fierce commands. Wooden shields chipped, littering the shore with splintering shards as every warrior pressed on, determined to win. The arrows from the Outcast ships covered the land in fleeting clouds of shadow as they rained down upon the Hooligan warriors, falling to the ground and imbedding themselves in moving flesh. In the chaos of the fight it was hard to only hit the enemy. The Hooligan archers, hidden in the shade of the forest released their own unlit arrows at the ships, trying to disarm the Outcast archers.
~.~
Atop Stormfly, Astrid flew straight at the Outcast Nadder, her ax ready. Stormfly taunted the other Nadder, quickly disengaging it from its land bound fight and into the sky. Away from fellow Outcast warriors, the Nadder and its rider didn't stand a chance! Astrid kept the Stormfly just to the side of the opposing Nadder, avoiding the blind spot just in front of her nose and keeping the advantage. The Outcast rider clearly didn't know much about his own Nadder, as he continually tried to keep Astrid right in front of him.
"Yer a coward, girl." He called out as Astrid moved to the side again.
Astrid ignored the insult and patted Stormfly's side, urging her to send forth a large ball of fire. The shot just missed the other Nadder's body, hitting the edge of its wing instead.
The Outcast growled in anger, forcing his Nadder to shoot fire blindly at Stormfly as she avoided the fury of shots with near perfect ease. When His Nadder's fire ran out he pulled his sword from his belt and urged the Dragon forward, his eyes wide with hate.
It was all Astrid could do not to laugh as the Outcast's Nadder moved forward, swaying widely under its impatient rider. She Pushed Stormfly to fly just a bit higher, whispering the command for her Spine shot. Stormfly positioned her tail, and as the Outcast flew into targeting range released the sharp, poisonous shards as him. As Astrid had hoped, the spines hit the Outcast easily, sparing the opposing Nadder. She didn't want to kill the dragon if she didn't have to.
The Outcast fell from the Nadder's back, plummeting towards the shore heavily. The Nadder, seeing its rider gone looked toward Astrid and Stormfly with mixed feelings. It hadn't cared for the cruel, annoying human it had carried.
"Go." Astrid called to it, hoping that it would leave. It started forward, releasing a low roar towards Stormfly who answered with a more ferocious growl. The Nadder didn't look back to its former rider as it took off, leaving the Outcasts behind in its want to live.
~.~
The injured arm from Scarlette's fire pulled at Alvin's thoughts as he continually avoided Stoick's sword. He could feel the newly scaring burns opening, the blood and pus leaking out from the thick leather armor over his arms. Trying to keep the injury far from his thoughts, Alvin swung harder, in quickened slashes at the Hooligan chief.
Stoick took quick notice of the covered injury on Alvin's arm, focusing the majority of his attacks on the wounded arm. "It was a cowardly move, taking Hiccup." he growled, avoiding Alvin's sword as it swiped near his face.
"You should have killed the little embarrassment early. He's weak." Alvin snarled as he raised his shield against a slash to his gut.
The words enraged Stoick, causing him to fight harder. In the early days, Hiccup had seemed like an embarrassment, but he had proven himself not only to Stoick, but to the tribe. Through his deeds he had shown them how strong he was. "He sin;t weak." Stoick yelled as he swung again, his blade cutting through the tangled hairs of Alvin's beard.
Alvin felt the rage building as the hairs fell, leaving his once proud beard a mutilated mess. His anger only grew as his eyes caught sight of the Nadder's rider falling dead to the shore.
Seeing that rider fall, Stoick felt unmeasurable pride in Astrid and her abilities as a warrior. "Having Dragons doesn't give you the ability to command them." He taunted, seeing the red cover Alvin's face. "Flaunting power only shows how weak you really are!"
"You haven't seen our full power!" Alvin laughed hysterically, letting his anger control his weapon.
~.~
Snotlout felt nothing more then shame for the fidgeting rider on the Gronckle. Compared to the Outcast, even Fishlegs looked like a heroic warrior on Meatlug! Though, in his mind no dragon could match Hookfang, even on the dragon's most disagreeable days.
Snotlout charged toward the Outcast, Hookfang's jaws exposed and his long talons swiping dangerously. The serpentine movements of the Monstrous Nightmare left the Gronckle defensive and its rider confused as he tried to keep track to where the attacks were coming from. The Gronckle, ignoring its rider swung its heavily armored tail defensively at Hookfang, hitting him across the snout and leaving him dazed for only a moment before the Nightmare's eyes narrow in fury.
Feeling confident in the Gronckle's ability to defend them both, the rider pulled his spiked club out and waited for Snotlout to move in closer again. The Gronckle snarled a warning at Hookfang as he stepped closer, building the fire deep within its throat.
Hookfang felt his own fire igniting, and was the first to release. The Gronckle's heavily armored skin spared it the full pain of the blast as it counter fired and stepped back, ready to swing it's tail again. The Nightmare shook of the heat of the flames, igniting his entire body in his fury. Snotlout had never been happier for the saddle, its thick leather warm, but sparing him his dragon's flames.
The Outcast rider's eyes widened as he watched the nightmare drive forward, teeth snapping angrily at the Gronckle in retaliation for the blow. Hookfang closed his jaws over the top of the Gronckle's tail, biting through the thick skin before the end of its tail hit him across the face again.
The Outcast raised his club, fully intending to smash it over Hookfang's head when a small knife flew through the air, imbedding itself in his arm. Snotlout turned toward the direction the knife had come, seeing his father watching eagerly.
Snotlout grinned, determined to make his father proud and had Hookfang pull back, only to move forward with harsh anger, his jaws sinking into the Gronckle's neck and puncturing its throat. The Gronckle roared in agony as it tried to pull away, slowly weakening as it sank into the bloodied sands.
Snotlout took advantage of the Outcasts dismay and pulled out his own sword, pushing Hookfang into the dying Gronckle and swinging with all of his strength at the Rider, cutting through his thin armor and into his chest. His first kill in battle, and all ready the Hooligan teen could feel the thrill of actual battle running through his veins. His took only a brief moment to look towards his father, seeing the proud smile on his face.
~.~
Hiccup winced as the broken blade cut through the bindings around his ankles and into his palm. He stopped moving, watching Vork carefully to see if the Outcast had noticed him sawing through the straps, but Vork was too focused on the battle just outside of Hiccup's view. He sighed heavily through the leather gag, ignoring the stinging pain in his hand and readjusting his hold on the dirty handle. He knew that he couldn't reach the straps on his wrists and forearms, but if he could just get his legs free, then maybe he could get past Vork and let his father know where he was.
It was a long shot, but it was the only hope he had right now. Hiccup grasped the now slippery, gritty handle of the blade and carefully went to work on cutting the straps around his knees, the sounds of the battle echoing against the walls of the shallow cave. Weapons clashed and warriors yelled as unseen blows landed. For now, Hiccup willed the guilt of what was happening outside his sight away. He wouldn't let Scarlette's sacrifice be in vain, he refused to just lay there a helpless prisoner.
~.~
They heard the disgruntled growls of the dragons before they saw they. Approaching from the opposite end of the island, two Outcasts with heavy swords rode toward Berk on their dragons, accompanied by a handful of men on foot.
The warriors who had been left within the village had been growing tense in the extended boredom, listening to the distant echos of the battle on their shores. Their hands itched to hold their weapons, to feel the thrill of battle as it pumped adrenaline through their veins. They were almost relieved when they heard the dragons, following the sounds to the growing figures in the distance.
The Hooligans lifted their shields and held their weapons tightly, waiting for the Outcasts to make the mistake of attacking first. Their riders came in first, flying wildly and setting fire to the first homes in their path, hoping to incite a panic. The Zippleback Riders had trouble getting the heads of the dragon to cooperate, so the Gronckle did most of the work.
Fishlegs was relieved to see the enemy Gronckle waste its shots on the empty houses. Years of Warrior training left his mind as he gulped down the anxiety rising within himself. The Outcast Gronckle was bigger then Meatlug, a ferocious beast with a cruel rider feeding into its animalistic nature. He knew that he had a duty to his tribe, but he didn't want to see his dragon, his friend, hurt in the fight.
Despite his own fear, he could feel Meatlug's body vibrating as the protective growls erupted from her throat. She was ready for this, and was confident enough for the both of them. Luckily, the heavy Gronckle's rider had landed the dragon, its small wings tired from the long flight. Fishlegs pulled up his shield and charged forward, feeling the heat of Meatlug's own fire radiating from her throat.
Meatlug released the lava blast, the fire landing at the opposing Gronckle's feet. The large Dragon stepped back, rearing its head as it released its last blast back at Meatlug. The weakened blast landed a few feet short of Meatlug and Fishlegs, setting fire to the patch of grass. The flames quickly burnt through the dry grass, leaving a smoldering patch of crisp brown behind.
Fishlegs continued forward, the adrenaline slowly consuming his fear and turning it to a hungry rage. His eyes lit up as if on fire themselves as his own sword collided with the Outcasts, blocking a hit meant for Meatlug. The larger Gronckle swung its tail, knocking Meatlug back a few paces as Fishlegs readjusted himself and charged forward again, her own tail ready to swing and her jaws stretched wide as the roar bellowed across the village.
Being smaller, Meatlug avoided the other Gronckle's tail and bashed herself into the Gronckle, knocking the Outcast rider to the ground. The Outcast's voice spat obscenities at his own dragon, the the Hooligan teen as he pushed himself to his feet and and picked up his sword. Meatlug turned toward the Outcast, the drool dripping between her long teeth as the fire grew within her. Fishlegs patted the side of her head, jumping down with his shield held against his body and sword raised. He'd never felt so eager to fight, so bound to his sword!
The fight was over before his eyes could focus on the movements of his sword, the Outcast dead before his feet. The feel of blood on his hands brought Fishlegs back to himself, the thirst for battle temporarily quenched. He turned his eyes to the Gronckle, its star baring down into him.
The Gronckle watched as the smaller human cut down his cruel rider, freeing him from its command. Though bigger, this human was much like the one that had approached him back on its island home. Its own Gronckle was loyal to it, threatening him should any harm come to her human. He didn't know what had happened to the small human who had calmed him, but he knew that he would not harm this one, who reminded him of the boy. Offering a brief nod, the Gronckle turned away from the viking and Dragon, pushing itself off of the land and moving toward home.
~.~
The twins laughed as they sat on the separate heads of their Dragon, watching the Outcasts struggle to control their own. It weaved from side to side, each head trying to go in separate directions as the Outcasts yelled orders at it.
"Lets show him how its done." Ruffnut chuckled.
"They're gonna regret messing with us." Tuffnut grinned, agreeing with his sister.
In near perfect unison the twins lifted off, flying with learned ease toward the bumbling Outcasts. Their laughter was laced with mockery as they flew once around the Outcasts, taunting them. Barf and Belch, having learned their riders humor joined in the mockery as the other Zippleback groaned its annoyance at the incompetence of the Outcasts atop its necks.
The twins brought their dragon around to the front of the Outcasts, staring them down as they pulled their own weapons out from the sheathes at their sides, waiting to see what the enemy would do first.
"They're like kids" Ruffnut said, flicking her hair away from her face.
"Smelly, deformed ones." Tuffnut added. "This is gonna be easy."
The larger of the Outcasts pulled his sword from his belt, grunting dis-pleasurably as he shifted to avoid falling. "We'll have yer guts for belts!"
"You have to catch us first." Ruffnut laughed as they pushed up, gliding into the open skies.
Once above the slowly following Outcasts the twins each signaled their individual heads, starting the gas and spark of their first fiery attack. The fire ball hit the enemy Zippleback, knocking it back and causing the Outcasts to drop their weapons in a desperate attempt to keep from falling. They cursed loudly as they pressed their dragon forward, embarrassed by the ease at which the teens were up showing them.
Again the teens urged their dragon into the process of gas and spark, sending another fire ball straight into the Outcast's dragon. Working together, they were unstoppable to the Outcasts still set on individually controlling each head. The Outcast Zippleback, aggravated by the continuous attacks against it mimicked its riders bickering, fully ignoring the Hooligan teens and snapping at its own heads.
The Outcasts began yelling at their dragon, hitting each of its heads with armored hands in the attempt to get it focused and attacking. The dragon turned on its riders, hissing angrily and jolting its long body, loosening the Outcasts hold and throwing them to the distant ground before flying off to nurse its wounds.
Tuffnut watched the Outcasts fall, turning toward his sister with a disappointed smirk. "That was too easy."
~.~
The Hooligan warriors were quick to split into two teams: One to fight the Outcast invaders, another to put out the fires caused by the dragons. Men and women rushed in every direction, swords clashing against shields and buckets splashing water onto the ground. For every warrior put to the task of diminishing the flames, another stayed close, protecting them from the Outcast blades. It was only after the dragon riders were defeated that the Outcast fighters began to loose spirit and attempt to retreat, only to be stopped by the Hooligans set on protecting their home.
Blood fell, soaking into the dirt roads of the village as Outcast and Hooligan alike fell under the blade. The fires were out, but the damage had been done to the homes and building which it had ravished, leaving charred shadows behind. When the last Outcast fell the Hooligans raised their voices in a roaring cheer, their weapons raised to the skies. Their brethren had died in glorious battle, and it was not yet time to mourn the loss, not until the true fight was over and the pyres sent their souls away.
The twins and Fishlegs turned their dragons toward the shores, ready to assist in the larger battle raging beyond their sight. Toothless watched as the teens flew toward the shores, his eyes following their shrinking forms until they disappeared. He couldn't stand to be left behind any longer, not when Hiccup and the others needed him. Without another moments hesitation Toothless pushed himself forward, his sleek body moving with impressive speed as he ran through the familiar forests of Berk. When Hiccup had been taken there had been nothing he could do, unable to fly after him and bring him home. The pain that that knowledge had filled him with had been almost unbearable. Now Hiccup was here, on the shores waiting for help and he couldn't obey the Chief's command to stay back. If he died, then at least he did so to save his friend.
Through the trees and over the fallen branches, Toothless pressed forward, his heartbeat drumming against his ears. Between each rapid beat he could hear the sounds of fighting growing louder, the scents of blood and sweat thickening. Toothless stopped at the edge of the trees, looking over the shores with desperate eyes for Hiccup. Amidst the colliding warriors he couldn't see his human, nor did he catch scent of him in the chaos. His ears picked up on a voice he did know, and turning his head he saw Stoick, still atop Thornado and facing Alvin. Just the sight of the treacherous filled Toothless with a rage he hadn't felt in a very long time.
~.~
Stoick grinned as his blade caught Alvin's arm, cutting deeply into the sweaty flesh. The Outcast yelled in frustrated anger, pulling his arm back and lifting his shield against the following attack. Beneath him, Bloodletter was growing annoyed with the persistent swipes from Thornado.
"On the ground, you wouldn't stand a chance." Alvin growled, issuing the challenge.
"You're loosing." Stoick countered.
Alvin snickered, shifting on his dragons back. "I will win this battle Stoick. My men aren't the only ones dying on this field. Your men will grow tired, and in their attempts to make it back to the village we'll pick them off, one by one."
"The battle will be over long before my men seek rest." Stoick snapped, pressing forward.
Alvin nudged Bloodletter down, avoiding Stoick's attack and bashing into Thornado, knocking the Hooligan chief to the ground. Alvin's laughter rang out as his dragon stepped forward, hovering over Stoick. "On the ground, I hold the advantage." Alvin laughed, raising his sword for a final blow.
In a blur of black scales Toothless leapt forward, headbutting the Nightmare and shaking Alvin's sword from his grasp. Stoick turned toward Toothless, the relief and appreciation clear on his face as he pushed himself to his feet. His own sword extended, he stared down at Alvin with hard eyes.
"This is your last chance Alvin, give me back my son." Stoick declared harshly.
~.~
Seeing his leader on the ground, Vork turned toward Hiccup with narrowed eyes. "What..?" He muttered, seeing the cut straps in the dark sand.
Hiccup tucked the broken blade into his belt as he looked up at his confused captor, trying to back away as Vork stepped towards him. With little effort Vork pulled the teen to his feet and pressed his blade against his throat. "Time for yer grand appearance." the Outcast whispered loudly as he marched Hiccup out into the harsh sunlight.
Looking over his shoulder, Alvin smiled, a haunting cackle leaving his throat. "Its not over yet, Stoick."
Stoick followed Alvin;s gaze, his blood boiling as his body froze. There, with a blade inches away from taking his life was Hiccup. He hadn't been on the ships after all... Stoick took a hesitant step back, listening to the fierce roar as Toothless stepped beside him. Neither of them took their eyes off of Vork as he moved Hiccup closer.
"Call down yer men, or the boy dies." Alvin demanded as he pulled himself to his feet.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
A/N: This chapter came out longer then expected, 8 pages! This is the first battle I've written so hopefully its as good as I think it is. I'm pretty proud of it. ;)
If the Outcast riders seemed destined to fail, it is because realistically, they have no real dragon riding experience. Being able to climb on doesn't give one the ability and trust to really command a dragon. So that's why it might have seemed too easy for them to be defeated.
In regards to Fishlegs: In the books, Fishlegs is a berserker, And in the show and movie he is rather soft spoken and seemingly timid. I tapped into a bit of the book version because otherwise, I didn't know how he would do in a fight.