The charred ship waded across the light blue waters. The hull was burnt and blackened from fire. Ash layered the broken ship as it pushed through the currents. The mass of the ship was in tatters. The passengers of the boat were in no better condition. Some were missing limbs. Others were horrible burnt. A few managed to escape much harm. The viking stared out over the waters as he steered what was left of a ship towards the island. He felt he had failed. Not only himself, but his men and his promise. He would have to face them and he would have to own up to his actions. They wouldn't understand and he knew it.
The rain had all but stopped for this brief moment in time as the sun was getting ever lower into the sky. Turning around, the viking could still see the dim red glow in the distance. The fires must've been great to still be seen from this distance. He knew the people of Berk would be able to see the glow. Some probably guessed it was their island that was being destroyed. Others might have assumed it was just another island struck by lightning and engulfed in flames. It was all gone. All that he strived to build was gone.
He turned back towards the island and could see them waiting in the distance. He could see the viking upon viking waiting in anticipation for his arrival. Two dragons sat at the very front of the crowd. He couldn't see their expressions, but he already knew what they were thinking and what they were feeling. This is where his journey ends. This may just be where he dies.
The ship hit the dock unexpectedly and jerked the passengers forward. Cries of pain and anguish were heard from above and below deck. The vikings on the dock stared up, waiting for the first move to be taken. He raised his hands slowly and motioned towards the men onboard. The vikings on the dock nodded their heads. A few minutes went by and several boards were brought to carry the men off ship. Once all the critically injured were removed. The viking disappeared below deck. Moments later he emerged with two passengers. He motioned them off ship and they did as they were instructed. They left the ship and he closed his eyes. He motioned for his men to follow him and they calmly got off the ship.
The rows upon rows of vikings looked on with sneers and angered looks. They held out axes and swords. Arrows were being pointed at them from every angle. Any move they took that seemed remotely out of line and their skulls were be punctured with the sharp steel. The viking walked until he stood in front of the chief and the two dragons. Senior vikings were all around him and his men. There was no escape. Death if they should so choose it.
"Stoick," the viking said with a calm voice. It was smooth and defeated. The chief looked at the viking and looked on with both curiosity and disgust.
"Alvin," Stoick said roughly. The chief looked at the Outcasts and the ship. He looked even further past them and noticed the very faint glow of red. The red that was just barely there on the horizon. Such a small little red flare in the ocean.
"Why come here?" Stoick asked, "Why come to us? You know exactly what my men want to do to you. You know they don't want anything fair when it comes to you and your men. You could've gone to any of our enemies and asked for shelter." The Outcast chief looked at the Berk chief and he shook his head.
"To do that would be a death sentence," Alvin replied softly, "They know he's here and they'll keep looking until they find him. They will destroy the viking world and any other world they have to until they get him back. They want him more than you can ever imagine. There's a chance they will not return to this island so I took the opportunity."
"So save yourself?" Stoick asked angrily. The Outcast shook his head quickly.
"To save who I could," Alvin said with a stronger voice, "You don't know what you're dealing with here Stoick. You have no idea what's really going on. You're giving shelter to the enemy." Stoick laughed and looked around at the disgruntled Outcast vikings. There were very few, only about six or seven healthy men left. He noticed some of them looked absolutely terrified.
"Who said I was giving you shelter?" Stoick asked snarkily. Alvin did not respond with words, rather, he looked at the chief with such a look of disappointment and despair.
"You know I wasn't talking about about myself," Alvin said strongly. He looked around at the vikings surrounding him. Many of them were too distracted with their own rage that they zoned out the entire conversation. They were fixated on his movements. The very few that actually listened to the conversation were straining their ears in hopes of getting an answer out of the Outcast.
"They didn't come here seeking shelter Stoick," Alvin continued, "They came here seeking a place to hide. They stole something from those dragons and it wasn't the throne to their kingdom." Stoick took a few steps closer to Alvin and looked him in the eyes. The world around them was quiet save for the ripplings of the gray water and the distant sounds of thunder and rain. The chief leaned in uncomfortably and dangerously close.
"Oh? Enlighten me," Stoick said softly. Stoick leaned in close and whispered just a few simple words into his ears. Stoick's entire demeanour changed. He stepped back and stared at the Outcast. Then he should his head and walked back to where he originally stood. He could not believe what the Outcast said. He wouldn't. it was just another mind game. He was not going to be manipulated.
The dragon watched as the vikings drew closer and closer. They're battered bodies made them look frail yet frightening. He wasn't going to be scared, not anymore. This was his redemption. The one called Alvin was leading his vikings to the chief of Berk. The Outcast stopped and he stared at the chief before him. The two exchanged words. Formalities.
Oh how the dragon longed to leap forward and kill them. Out of all of the vikings to make it out, it had to be those specific ones. It was like a blessing from the gods. He was going to make them regret ever laying a finger on him. He was going to make sure they suffer nice and slow. He wanted that. At least, he thought he wanted that.
The vikings were keeping their heads low to the ground. They had no idea the dragon was one of the many staring them down. He felt himself inwardly laugh. He stopped, and then he did it again. He looked around and no one was paying him any mind. He felt different, almost enlightened by the thought of killing them. The thought of killing a living being. Why did that, why did that feel so good?
Then the rage starting swiftly coming back. What they did. The torture. The abuse. It made him seethe with what felt like hatred. He was going to act on it. If nobody stopped him, he was going to go through with it. He was talking them down, one by one, making sure to make a spectacle of it. He wanted everyone to know that they would no longer view him as a helpless kid anymore. Never again.
He watched as Stoick leaned in close to the Outcast chief. They were whispering about something. He couldn't hear. He didn't care though. He was hardly paying attention to those two as they conversed. Stoick would figure something out. He didn't care. He just wanted what his mind was constantly chasing after. Those fleeting realities of vengeance that smelled of death and tasted of iron. Then he saw Stoick take a few steps back, and then something in him just snapped.
He hurled through the air with a sudden and alarming roar. He slammed one of the vikings to the docks. The viking's head slammed through the weak wood of the deck and dangled their limp for a few moments. The surprised viking watched as his helmet fell into the gray waters below. Looking up, he could see the terrifying dragon burning into his heart. It was a look that could pierce through a person's very being. When a viking talked absolute terror, this would have been the face to describe such horrors. It was the face of a devil.
Then he roared, so loud that it echoed throughout the oceans and the mountains and the forests. The world went silent. Not a single sound was heard. All eyes were watching the scene before them. No one could believe it. No one recognized this dragon as it scowled at the horrified Outcast viking. One paw went up, claws extended and poised for killing. There was a moment of hesitation.
Moments went by as the world watched in silence.
The dragon roared again. The Night Fury was frustrated and angry beyond rational thought. He roared again and again in anger then he turned his head towards the ship and blew a plasma blast into the hull of it and destroyed the entire vessel. Splinters of woods and shards of debris went flying as vikings ducked for cover from the sudden explosion. As soon as they could, the vikings looked right back at the Night Fury.
"I should kill you!" the dragon shouted with blind anger, "I should kill all of you pathetic and disgusting creatures. You don't deserved the title of human. You don't deserve the title of viking. You miserable wretches that toy with the human mind and body! I would be doing the world a favor by killing you. I could make it slow and agonizing and excruciating! All the things you did! All the things I know you will do in the future! How many people have suffered by your damn hands? How many evil deeds have you done? Not anymore! I will not let it go on anymore! I'll kill each and every last one of you!"
The dragon flexed his claws, readying for the kill. The viking below him watched with terror, completely frozen. He wasn't able to move a muscle. Tears rolled down his face as he saw his entire life flash before his eyes. This was where he was going to die. Nothing happened.
The Night Fury stared at the man and his scared expression. What a pitiful excuse for a human. He didn't deserve death. No, he deserved the punishment he knew the vikings would give him. They had special ways of dealing with people like them. He wanted to see him suffering for as long as possible. At least, thats what he told himself.
Inside, that dragon was just as scared as the man he was going to kill. He was wondering just what he was doing. He was actually going to kill someone in the name of vengeance. Not for someone he loved, but for himself. He hadn't even considered what Toothless went through. He was just thinking of himself and what he wanted. He was scared because he knew he couldn't kill the viking. No matter how many cruel and awful things the viking did, he just couldn't do that. Killing a person without reason just wasn't him.
The Night Fury pulled the man up and stared him down, growing with such intensify that the viking felt himself vibrate. The dragon threw the viking several feet as he crashed into the docks spiraling head over heels before he came to a stop. All eyes stayed fixated on the dragon. No one could've predicted this. No one could even predict what was going to happen. All but one were completely lost. All but one had no idea what to do. All but one watched paralyzed with shock and confusion.
The dragon was being overcome with rage once again as he felt a familiar feeling swell up in his chest. He felt it coming like a wave of relief. He was going to fire off a blast right into the creature's head. It would make him feel so much better. Wouldn't it? Wouldn't seeing his abuser dead make him feel better? I should. He knew it should. Right? He should take the risk right? If it doesn't? You killed a man in cold blood.
"Mr. Hiccup?" said a frail, little voice. It was sweet and soothing. It was innocent and light-filled. The dragon looked down and saw big grey eyes that sparkled in the dull light. His innocent stare shook the dragon from within. His soft blue hue and short whiskers radiated with life and energy and light. The dragon slumped down and looked at the small dragon.
"Mr. Hiccup, are you going to kill that man?" the little dragon said. The Night Fury looked at the boy with concerned eyes, fearing that the child was using such language at that age. The dragon shook his head and patted the little one's head softly.
"No, Ryuu, I'm not going to kill the man," the Night Fury said softly. Ryuu smiled brightly and hugged the dragon tightly. The Night Fury looked down and managed to smile just a bit. He felt a tinge of happiness fleet through his heart for just a moment, and then it was gone. He could feel another presence near him. Another dragon was in front of him. A Night Fury. He had a fantastically bright smile. The fleeting surge of emotion came and pass.
"Fucking asshole," the dragon heard a viking behind him mutter. He could hear the distinct sound of metal being drawn and the sounds of heavy footsteps. He could hear the angered breathing and the awkwardly shuffling of feet. The smell of salt and sweat and blood and the aura of hatred.
Before anyone had realized what had happened, the dragon had turned to face the attacker. Suddenly, the viking was slumped to his knees. Everyone looked to see him there. A red pool of blood was gathering around him as he clutched where his hand used to be. The viking was there, shocked and unable to feel the excruciating pain in its full extent. He looked up at the dragon who wore a daunting face. The dragon looked down at the viking, eyes in narrow slits, and with a calm, yet rough voice, the Night Fury spoke.
"If you come near my family again, I will kill you," the dragon said. The world whispered with wonders as the vikings watched. They remembered the dragon once again and they couldn't help but smile. Many were watching the dragon grow. It was a stepping stone, a rather gruesome and harsh one, but one that was necessary. He had passed his own personal test.
The Night Fury quickly turned and shielded the young dragon's eyes and turned him away from the scene. He looked up and stared at the Night Fury in front of him and hugged him tightly. The three dragons stood there, all in an awkward, yet beautiful embrace. A makeshift family of odds and ends that fit together to create an operating machine one that was fueled by love and chaos.
"Care to explain why you viciously attacked my men without warning?" Alvin said curiously. The vikings around him sneered and laughed at the question. Many provided snarky answer, claiming they had enough reason to kill them on the spot. A little scuffle was just a precursor to coming events. Thats what they all claimed.
Toothless looked at Alvin and let the two dragon's go. He walked closer and stared him right in the eye and leaned in close. The dragon whispered into the chief's ears. He told him what his vikings had done. The damage that had been caused. The actions that led to the slow destruction of someone he loved and cared for dearly. The chief's eyes widened with terror.
"They what?" Alvin said in a soft voice, hardly audible and free of the rasp that usually gripped the viking's words. The vikings who knew what the dragon had said were surprised. They were taken aback by the Outcast's visual disgust. It made them second guess who they were dealing with.
The chief looked at his men and he calmly walked towards them. He called them all close together. He whispered a few words to his men. Four nodded and laughed a bit as well. One could see the chief's fist clench and begin to bleed. Out of the six that were there, four were on the ground within a few moments. It happened quick. The dragon's did not foresee such an act. They saw it happen, but did not move a muscle. They didn't know what to think or what to do.
The red blood leaked through the dark brown wood and ripped into the gray waves. The final gasps of air leaked from the bodies of the soon to be deceased. The dead were laying with their necks open and bare. The rattles of death were short. Centuries went by in that time. They lied there in pools of intermingled blood and unforgivable acts. It reflected the gray skies above but the dark browns and blacks below bled through. Their eyes stretched towards the sky but their red rapids ran far below those white clouds. It seeped through the cracks and into the dark abyss below, drip after drip. It drenched the world under with its ghastly nature and disgusting smell.
The dragon shielded the young Ryuu. He didn't want the child to be desensitized by the cruel realities of the world, not when he had a childhood to lead. He was a child and he would get the privilege of being one. He would fight for the ones he loved until he couldn't fight anymore. He would fight for them. He would die for them.
Then the bows were once again stringed up and aimed at the chief. The vikings watched as the chief slayed four of his own. How could he kill his own men? That was the burning question that spread through the crowds of vikings. It flared and crackled as its question grew ever louder.
"These men committed an unforgivable crime and admitted their actions! By Viking law, I executed them with the Gods as my witnesses!" The outcast chief shouted. He took his sword and tossed it into the ocean and instructed his men to do the same with any weaponry they may have been hiding on themselves.
"As the chief of the Outcast tribe, I request audience with the Berk Council of Elders!" Alvin shouted. His voice was harsh and angered and disgusted. Something about him struck a chord with the Night Fury. What was still to be deciphered was if it was a good or bad chord he struck.
"And if the victim should so desire, I shall be given full responsibility of my former men and their actions committed against the abused party and face the punishment," Alvin said loudly as he looked around the vikings that encircled the harbor. Whispers spread like wildfires and quickly gave way to absolute silence.
Alvin's eyes rested on the Night Fury. They were sullen and held elements of sorrow, grief, regret and many apologies waiting to be said. All eyes were slowly turning towards the Night Fury clutching a small, blue dragon in his paws. All eyes turned to this familiar figure just as Alvin had. They all waited for an answer.
Toothless stared at his love. He knew what he'd answer. He was still Hiccup. He would make the right choice. He would make the Hiccup choice, he knew he would. He was still the same dragon he fell in love with. He can't hid it from him. He could see right through the thin veil of obscurity.
The Night Fury stared at Alvin.
"What would Hiccup do?" the Night Fury thought. The world around him whispered with answers and questions all the same. They gave him the strength but gave him the weakness. They were the murmurs of his heart.
"No," Hiccup whispered to himself, "That's not what Hiccup would do."
The blue waters below swished in anticipation. The sun kissed horizon bled with red and oranges and yellows as they strained for an answer. The wind silently blew the green grass and brought whispers of the events to come.
