Chapter 11
The peaceful night and its quietness created a relaxing atmosphere. The moon was full and high in the sky, accompanied by small dotes of faraway stars. The wind whistled as it passed through healthy, green grass. Yellow chicks cuddled beneath their mother's puffed-out feathers, absorbing her warm body, prospering to sleep through the night. Crickets awoke, hopping from one place to another, searching for mates.
The breeze traveled through the open window and brushed the curtains hung at both sides, causing them to dance lightly. Shivering as the wind touched her exposed neck, the sleeping Astrid shifted, trying to get into a position that might block the wind, but no matter how many times she curled into herself, she couldn't get comfortable, until a hand grabbed the blanket and gently lifted it up, folded it and tucked it under her chin, careful not to wake her. Her body stilled and relaxed, finally relieved. Strands of yellow-golden hair had come loose, forming messy waves on the pillow and her face.
Gazing down at her, he brushed the cures of hair away from her eyes and cheek with his fingertips, uncovering her closed eyelids and pink cheek as she breathed slowly. He pinched a small patch of hair, curled it and tucked it behind her ear. It was rare to see her like this. She looked so content and at peace. He had wanted to let her know where he was heading, but after seeing her asleep, he couldn't find it in his heart to disturb her. He walked over to his desk, lowering his peg leg slowly to prevent any noises. He licked his thumb and pinched the flame burning on the candle's head, killing it. Taking his helmet under his arm, his placed his book in one of the drawers and walked out, strapping the helmet on. He looked at the sleeping Viking one last time before gently closing the door half way, leaving just enough room for the cold air to leave, while giving her privacy.
On his way down the stairs, he strapped his bow and arrow filled quiver on his back, ready for any faraway attacks on his journey. He stepped outside, feeling the wing blow. His Night Fury shoved passed him, excited to fly. Toothless trotted over to his favorite tree, stood on his hind legs as his front ones clumped their claws down deep into the bark. He arched his back, stretching his muscles as his claws dragged down, marking the tree with more of the dragon's claw marks. Overtime, Hiccup figured out his dragon was indeed nocturnal. He would be lazy during the daytime, taking short naps now and then, but at nighttime, the Night Fury would bounce around energetically, looking for any way to entertain himself. This wasn't a problem for Hiccup. Most of his travels happen at night, when most creatures are asleep and the night is empty.
Hiccup whistled, signaling his dragon to come. Toothless walked over to him happily, shaking his head, ears smacking his scalp, creating slapping sounds. The dragon grunted when his master hopped onto the saddle on his back and clicked his metal foot in place. Hiccup tapped the dragon's head. "Let's go, bud."
And the dragon took off.
.
Stoick sighed. Hunching forward, he marched with fake courage toward the forge. After the horrible news he had revealed to his people, the chief simply wanted to rest, but he was a Viking, and Vikings don't give up easily, even if everything turns against them. Brushing his red beard with his fingers, he looked at the closed forge. It was too dark for anyone to be up, but after the chief's son went missing, Gobber started working overnight. Gathering what pride was left in him, Stoick pushed the door open. After so many bad things had happened to his village over the years, the chief wanted to talk to a friend. He heard bangs, clicks and drawers slamming. When the chief followed the sounds, which led to a back room, he found the blacksmith crouched on his knees with a drawer in hand. He hastily flipped it over, spilling its contents. Papers flew and pens cluttered and rolled away. The one-handed man grunted and threw the piece of wood away carelessly, only to rip out another drawer.
Confused by his friend's actions, the chief purposely cleared his throat loudly to get his attention, but Gobber was too focused to notice. So he tried again, loudly this time. Suddenly aware that the chief was standing near, Gobbed knocked his head against the desk, a failed effort to raise his head to look at the chief. Stoick looked at him in both confusion and concern, but his friend responded by chuckling while rubbing his head with his only good hand.
"I see you found your way in." Gobbed said, still chuckling as he continued searching for bumps on his head.
Stoick glanced around. Judging by the drawings on the walls and weird looking contraptions placed everywhere, Stoick noted that this room wasn't Gobber's. "Gobber… what…?"
"This was Hiccup's," The blacksmith said, waving his fake hand around, gesturing to the room. "all of it. Lad wanted a place for his crazy ideas."
Stoick couldn't decide where to look. His eyes traced everything. This was where his son spent building his dreams, creating what everyone else dismissed. This was his sanctuary, a place where he felt perfect for once. Stoick felt something rise in his throat. Gulping didn't help. Sensing his friend's discomfort, Gobber pulled up a chair for his chief, which Stoick accepted gratefully. Leaving the chief to think in peace, Gobber went back to the desk and started picking out papers from the drawer he had pulled out just minutes ago.
"That Hiccup was something, eh? For someone so little, he never stood still. I'd tell him to stay put, next thing I know, he was half way across the village."
Stoick managed a chuckle, but his frown never left. "I remember when he was just a wee little thing. He was so… different." He sighed and covered his face with his hands in guilt, "I shouldn't have been so hard on him."
Gobber stopped looking at the papers in hand to listen to Stoick more carefully.
"He was just a boy, and I failed him. I wanted him to be the best Viking… instead I made him believe he didn't belong here." One of his hands slipped away from his face and reached for the small blade attached to his belt. He held it gently and with care. His thumb ran over the letters on the handle. "My son, I'm so sorry."
Gobber sighed and went back to searching through papers. "Blaming yourself won't help you, Stoick."
"It's true though." Stoick said, tucking away the blade, "I have no one else to blame."
"True or not," Gobber said, putting away the papers in his hand and starting with another batch, "What's done is done. You can't go back and change what happened."
Stoick sighed. Gobber was right. Looking at the past won't change a thing. staring at the blacksmith, he found him still shuffling through paper after paper. "What are you doing?"
"Looking for a gods damn Night Fury."
Stoick's mind blanked. Blinking repeatedly, he stared at what Gobber was doing. After Gobber realized he needed to explain more, he sighed and placed the papers back.
"I think the dragon fella had been here when I was gone."
Stoick blinked in confusion, "Dragon fe – you mean that Dragon Master?" he asked, just to make sure.
"Aye, I wasn't sure who could have been here, but now, it makes sense." Gobber said, flipping through more papers, "There were drawings of this strange looking dragon here, but when I got back, they were burned. I wasn't sure what kind of dragon it was, but after I saw that beast last night…" Gobber looked back at the chief, "Stoick, your son drew a Night Fury."
Stoick stared in silence. He threw his head back and ran his hand over his helmet. Hiccup? Drawing a Night Fury? But how? How on Earth did the boy even know what a Night Fury looked like? "Are you positive?"
"Aye, but it wasn't just a Night Fury, it was the Night Fury, the same one from last night. It had the saddle and the weird tail thingy and everything."
Stoick snapped his neck to stare at his friend. It took a while for the information to sink in, but when it did, he was overcome with shock. His boy knew about the black dragon, or at least, seen it at some point. Way hadn't he told him? Did he not trust his own father about something like this?
"Ha-ha!" Gobber laughed suddenly, waving around a piece of paper energetically. "Found it! I found it! He missed this one!" He got up clumsily and handed the paper over to Stoick in a hurry. "I knew there was one in here somewhere!"
Stoick's eyes widened. This was the Night Fury. It was standing on all fours with its wings tucked in, and just like Gobber said, it had a saddle and an unusual looking left tailfin. There was no mistaking it. It was the same dragon.
"Okay, but I hit a Night Fury."
"It's not like the last few times, Dad! I mean I really, actually hit it! You Guys were busy. I had a very clear shot. It went down off Raven Point."
Stoick couldn't breathe. This was all too much. His son had shot it down. He had shot it and told him, but he brushed it off. Stoick wondered. Was the rider on it when Hiccup captured the dragon? If so, why did he let him go? Judging by the drawing, it was clear Hiccup had come back to draw the beast. New questions started forming in his mind. Was the rider responsible for his son's disappearance? It would explain why there weren't any boats stolen the day his son vanished.
Did the Dragon Master… kill him? Did he relocate him? Did he take him?
Hiccup went missing after he shot down a Night Fury, and Astrid went missing after the Night Fury and his rider appeared. It wasn't a coincidence. The drawing in the chief's hand was proof that the rider and his dragon had something to do with the disappearances. Gobbed said something about most of the drawings being burned. It must have been the rider. Who else would be connected to a drawing like this? Was the rider trying to hide the evidence?
.
Flying through the winds, the black dragon soared over the deep, dark sea. Small waves parted beneath him with every wing beat. Toothless was content, but his rider kept looking around, peeking down every now and then. He didn't understand what the human was saying, but it was clear by his voice he wasn't too happy. He seemed nervous and confused.
"I don't get it, bud." Hiccup whispered, eyes still searching the waters, "Where did it go? It should have been here."
It never left. This spot was where the dragons would drop their catch and where bubbles and light would rise. But now, there was nothing, which was frightening. Not knowing where it might have gone meant it could be anywhere by now. The fact that it moved meant that it was indeed a living thing, but the reason why it suddenly decided to move was still a mystery. Looking up, Hiccup saw the moon hanging in the sky. As long as the moon was still there, he had to keep searching.
Hello :3 I don't know what's going on, but my internet wasn't working very well for a few days.
Looks like Gobber and Stoick are finally putting the puzzle together XD And I love how the beginning turned out.
Lol I loved everyone's reactions when I read the reviews for chapter 10 thanks for all the support :3
