Chapter 11
It was a dark, stormy night.
Okay, so it was actually a crisp morning and the sun was shining brightly, but I think the previous description better matched my mood. We were in the arena fighting the Zippleback today, and although I couldn't see him, I knew Dad was hiding somewhere , watching. I hoped he wanted to see his son make an utter fool of himself, because that was exactly what he was going to get.
I held my water-filled bucket close. Zippleback, Zippleback . . . where were you? It must have been five minutes so far, and the Zippleback had done nothing but tease us. It would poke its head out of the gas cloud, giggle at us, and then retreat again. It liked to do that. I couldn't blame it; it must have been boring sitting around in a cage all day.
Shouting. From what I gleamed, Snotlout or Tuffnut (or both) had tossed their water at the girls. They all continued to argue for a few more seconds, and then the screams rose in intensity and tone –
Silence.
I heard Fishlegs gulp. We were standing back-to-back, keeping an eye out for the dragon.
"Hiccup . . ."
"Gobber would have stepped in if it was bad," I said dully. "They're fine . . ."
The Zippleback's staccato laugh bounced around the arena, so that it seemed to come from everywhere. Fishlegs and I went silent.
Then, I nearly fell forward as Fishlegs scampered forwards.
"I got it!"
I turned just in time to see Fishlegs douse the Zippleback's head.
He dropped his bucket. "Wow, I did it. I actually –"
A cloud of gas escaped from between the Zippleback's damp jaws.
Fishlegs had doused the wrong head.
That was enough for him. He promptly fled, leaving me behind with the Zippleback. I was faintly aware of Gobber cheering for me, but most of my attention was on the head that would light the gas.
Well, here goes . . .
I tossed my bucket.
The water rose about a foot in the air, then promptly fell back to earth.
Of course it did.
Gobber shouted again. This time, he didn't sound so joyful. And I picked my way backwards, trying to find a safe spot to stand so that I didn't explode along with the gas, but it was everywhere.
The Zippleback came close. Really close. Gas poured out, cloaking us in a thick white fog that made it impossible for me to see anyone else . . . or for them to see us. As I watched, the Zipplback's eyes widened, turning from slits to circles. One head was peering at my face; the other went up and over me . . .
Scales grazed my back.
From behind, one of the Zippleback's heads nudged me, sending me right into the other one. My hands instinctively shot out to balance myself, with one passing into the space between the dragon's open jaws. But it didn't bite down. If anything, it seemed until I had drawn my hand back to safety before closing its mouth.
And the head came forwards. It pressed against my chest, then slid upwards. The rough scales were rather unpleasant on my skin, but not painful. The Zippleback glanced at me, blinked, and then rubbed its cheek against mine. Behind me, the other head nuzzled my neck.
Okay, I had no idea what was going on. The dragon was making this rumbling sound, like . . . like one of Toothless's weird purrs.
Both heads were in front of me now. Awkwardly, I said, "Uh, hi."
The dragon trilled.
What was going on? Where was the fighting, the growling, the lighting-me-on-fire? This seemed very undragon-like to me.
Tell that to the Zippleback though, because that's what it seemed set on acting like. I had no idea why it would act this way; I mean, we never even saw each other outside of –
But we had, hadn't we? And . . . and I think I might understand: it was the eel. The Zippleback's happy that I took the eel away, and it's . . . thanking me?
But dragons don't do that. They don't thank people; they don't like people. Dragons always go for the kill –
But it hadn't. And neither had the Nadder.
Neither had Toothless.
After the things Toothless and I had done together, I must have subconsciously known; consciously, however, this was the first time that I acknowledged it: dragons were vastly more complicated than we had given them credit for.
The Zippleback slithered back into the fog. I heard it hiss as it ran into someone – Gobber, by the sound of it – then there was a loud bang, and the Zippleback was silent.
The gas was clearing. I could faintly make out the faces of the other teens, all of whom had the same dumbstruck expression. Even further off, there was a massive shadow approaching.
This couldn't be good.
"You're alive?" Dad said slowly.
Dryly, I answered, "You don't have to sound so surprised."
"You . .. it . . ." He stumbled a bit over his words. "The dragon had you, and yet . . . you're unharmed."
"I don't know. My hair got messed up quite a bit, and I don't think my self-esteem will ever be the same."
"How did this happen?" Dad demanded.
From behind, Snotlout snorted, "He probably did nothing. Again."
Dad just looked at him, and Snotlout shut up pretty quickly. Dad said, "Hiccup?"
I shrugged. "I don't know."
Dad looked like he had just seen a dragon that could talk "Gobber!" he barked. "Is this what usually goes on here?"
Gobber held his hands up in a placating manner. "Now, Stoick, remember: he's still learning. Everyone makes mistakes at that age."
"What usually happens, Gobber?"
Gobber winced. "Well, Hiccup, he . . . he doesn't do too much. He doesn't like to fight. Not against dragons, at least."
"Doesn't like to fight dragons?" Dad repeated, aghast.
"Dad –"
Dad turned on me. "We had a deal, Hiccup."
"Yeah, a very one-sided deal if you asked me," I grumbled.
Dad, of course, didn't listen. "You told me there would be no more of this . . . this strangeness."
"Uh, last time I checked, you said that. And way to fracture my already battered self-esteem . . ."
"I'm being serious!"
The sudden shout caught me off-guard. I couldn't see him, but I still felt Gobber flinch.
Dad, towering above me like an angry Nightmare, said, "Hiccup, you aren't a child anymore. It is time for you to become a Viking."
"But that doesn't mean I have to fight –"
"I'm heading to the docks now, Gobber." Dad turned towards him, consequently turning his back on me. "See that . . . keep up the training."
No one spoke as Dad left the arena. Hardly anyone would look at me. Even Snotlout, who normally would be jumping all over this opportunity, was silent and refused to meet my eyes.
And that's what made it so bad. I think if it had just been us, just me and him, I could have handled this. But Dad, he . . . he had done it in front of everyone. Again. And I . . . I . . .
I needed to get out of here.
I ignored Gobber and forced my way out of the arena (I say forced because those doors are heavy!). My feet, on instinct, going against what my logical mind probably would have liked, brought me to a cliff that offered a nice view of the docks and the Vikings upon it. One of them would be my Dad, preparing for yet another ultimately useless hunt for the dragon nest.
I sat there and watched. As the day wore on and the boats were fully loaded, it finally dawned on me.
Dad didn't say goodbye.
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Review Response:
IcePhoenix2112: I concede. The not finished thing is a good reason :) I used to only publish my stories once they were at least halfway done, just so I could avoid that.
Ooo Tim Bowler~ I'll admit that I've never read of his books, but I've seen Sea of Whispers around before. What did you two talk about?
Greath: Plan? Hiccup needs no plan!
ILOVEPIXELS: But I was serious. Or was I? You'll never know!
I know about Slenderman, but I don't know what M.C. stands for. (Multiple choice?!)
I wouldn't worry too much over the fact you hate writing for school. Essay writing, in general, is boring. Even if you wrote fictional stories for class though, fanfiction is more fun because you don't have that pressure of getting a good mark :) (Little confused... Your sister is expecting you to ask about getting an account or something else?)
About other people not responding, I wouldn't take it personally. Part of it depends on the writer (a lot of writers just don't respond to guest reviews or reviews in general if they get too many of them), part of it depends on the review. (Something like "Great chapter!" is hard to respond to in any depth, so some people just won't). Whatever the reason, I am 99.9% sure it has nothing to do with you personally.
Aw, it's great to hear that! Although I'll be modest here and say it probably wasn't just me :) Tell your BFF I say hi back!
