Merry Christmas Eve Eve Eve

I love this magical thing called being on break, which allows me to write a whole chapter three separate times before finally being satisfied with it.

Still, I hope you all are having a magical day, wherever you may be.

(Also, I mention two new types of dragons, Stormwardens, and Lighters. I'll have pictures up on DeviantArt or my Tumblr at some point. I'm getting a Wacom Thursday, so I'll be able to draw it then.)

There's a lot of Norwegian and Danish in this chapter. I tried to do my best to include in-text translations, but if you really want to know what something means, go plug it into Google Translate. :)

Also 100+ followers. You guys are awesome-sauce.

Carry on, carry on, carry on!

Chapter Twelve

Where I Need To Be

Antoni frowned, biting his bottom lip in concentration. Jannik had spent the better part of an hour showing him how to care for his sword and knives. He had complained that the basic maintenance taught in training wasn't enough to keep his equipment in good shape, and had begged the blacksmith to help him. Jannik had rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath about how little time there was in the day, but it was all good-natured. Anyone else he might have said no, but he knew Antoni was well-meaning.

Now Antoni sat, running a cloth over the length of his sword, admiring the way that the blade caught the dwindling sunlight. He was proud of his work today. His would probably be the best cared for equipment besides the officers'.

After oiling the sword, he slid it back into his sheath. He got to his feet and stretched, letting out a sigh as his back popped. Dinner would be soon. He'd better get his spare weapons back to the barracks. No sense in carrying them around for the rest of the day.

He started forward, but stopped. There was a ringing in his ears, growing steadily louder. A whistling that hurt after only a few seconds.

Then his eyes widened.

Night Fury.

He stood frozen as the dragon descended onto the common green, and several others who had been alerted by the noise came rushing out to face the monster. But they stopped, and Antoni's breath caught in his throat.

There was a boy on top of the dragon. Alive, and riding it.

He pushed himself out of his stupor, running towards the two. Someone tried to keep him back, but he squirmed through, his smaller size giving him an advantage. The boy nodded forward, then started as though he was falling asleep. Or falling unconscious. Blood coated his entire side, his shredded shirt revealing crude bandages that were soaked through.

He raised his hands weakly. "Jeg...Jeg vil ikke skade dig*." He murmured.

Antoni stumbled back a little.

Hell, the boy wasn't just a rider, he was Norwegian. He spoke the language fluently thanks to Jannik, but even though these soldiers likely didn't, the language was pretty easy to identify.

One man moved to kill them both, but the Night Fury growled, turning on him defensively, though he did not attack. The boy slid off of the dragon's back, bracing himself against its body. His eyes met with Antoni's.

"Trenger du hjelp?"

Do you need help?

The boy nodded slowly, trying to take a step forward.

"Holde dragen sikker"

Keep the dragon...something. He didn't understand that word. Jannik probably would, but until then, they had to get this boy to the infirmary, or he would die.

"He needs medical attention!" He shouted, and the soldier closest to him, Stefan, nodded.

"We can get him to the infirmary. The demon on the other hand..."

Antoni's eyes widened in understanding.

Sikker.

Safe. Safe from men who would only want to kill it.

"I don't think the dragon will hurt anyone. He asked me to...to keep it safe."

No one argued. They had come across dragon riders before. An odd bunch who didn't understand the very rational fears everyone had around the beasts. But looking into the Night Fury's eyes, he could understand the intelligence within.

"We're going to help your friend," He whispered. The dragon focused on him, then nodded once.

Antoni couldn't help but smile. The Night Fury had understood him, he was sure of it.

One of the soldiers was helping the boy towards the medical building. He may have been Norwegian, but he hadn't attacked them, and they had no basis on which to hate him. The Norwegians hated dragons, so he was likely an outcast anyways.

He waved a hand, and the Night Fury stood, following him just like he had hoped. It suddenly seemed docile, playful even, knowing that neither it, nor its master, would be hurt by the Pomeranians.

Odd.

If the creature of all hell and darkness was like this, Antoni wasn't so sure the darkness was such a bad place after all.

~o~O~o~

He sat by the boy's bedside. He had passed out while the doctor sewed his side back together. Deep lacerations, from some sort of wild animal, probably, had left him halfway to hypervolemic shock. If he hadn't of shown up right when he did, he probably would have died.

Now though, he slept peacefully, still pale, but no longer at immediate risk.

The dragon lay curled up on the ground beside him. It had taken some convincing to let the Night Fury stay, but Antoni had promised that they didn't want the dragon wreaking havoc on some far part of the camp. It was much better that it should be here, with its rider.

"When he wakes up, we'll have to do something about him." Antoni looked up to see Stefan, the soldier who had helped Hiccup to the infirmary. "He's still an enemy. They might kill him."

"They wouldn't. He couldn't even be my age. Sixteen, at most."

Stefan shrugged. "That doesn't matter to some people. We might have saved him from his wounds, but that doesn't mean we saved him. Sorry."

He ruffled Antoni's hair affectionately before leaving the infirmary.

Antoni didn't know how long he sat there, watching the boy. There were other things that he probably could have done, but he just sat there. Who was he? Why did he have a dragon? And what the hell was going through his head when he decided to show up on Pomeranian shores to ask for help?

He could deduce some answers, but not many.

Finally, though, the boy stirred. His green eyes were bright, if a little tired.

"Hallo," He murmured.

Antoni replied in kind.

"Is he awake?" Someone behind him called.

"Yes."

"Good. Ask him who he is, where he's from."

A small crowd had gathered behind him. The doctor, another soldier Antoni didn't recognize, and a few others.

The boy watched them all with interest. Of course, he didn't understand what was going on.

"Hva er din navn?" Antoni asked.

He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment before responding. "Hikke."

Antoni laughed, but the boy's dark glare shut him up. "He says his name is...Hiccup. But I don't think he wants you to laugh about it."

"It doesn't matter."

Antoni brushed his hand against the boy's arm. "Hvor er du fra? Er du Norsk?"

The boy shook his head, looking a little perplexed. "Nej. Jeg er Dansk. Vikingr."

"What did he say?"

Antoni paused. "He...he's Danish. A Viking."

There was some grumble of rising contention from the small group, and Antoni shook his head. "I don't think he means to hurt us. We should probably get Jannik, he'll be able to communicate better than I can if he's Danish."

Someone volunteered to go find the blacksmith, and Antoni sat down. He puffed out his cheeks, not sure what else he was supposed to do. He felt some sort of obligation to help this boy. The look of desperation in his eyes...one didn't ignore that sort of thing.

Jannik was found, and brought back to the infirmary. When he saw Antoni, he sighed.

"Only you could get mixed up in a mess like this."

And then he saw Hiccup.

He swore. "What's...he...but how?"

Antoni shrugged. "He's Danish, like you. I figured that you would be able to talk to him better than I could."

Jannik needed no further urging, and launched into a conversation with him. The boy's eyes lit up, and he tried to push himself to a sitting position. He talked with his hands, gesturing. Antoni understood a few simple words, but beyond that could only guess at some things.

Finally, Jannik turned to the rest of them. "His name is Hiccup. He's from a long ways off. He was attacked by a bear. Probably over the Tatras. And he's very grateful to that one boy who decided not to kill him and his dragon."

"So he is a dragon rider?" Antoni asked.

Jannik nodded. "He left his island with the Night Fury about a month ago. They've been making their way East."

"Where is he going?"

Jannik conversed with Hiccup quickly.

"Apparently, he had no destination in mind. He was just going to go wherever felt right." Jannik glanced back at him. "But he thinks that this might be the place where he needs to be."

~o~O~o~

Antoni glanced up as Hiccup approached him in the middle of the camp. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders, and his hair was characteristically messy.

"You certainly look deep in thought this morning."

"It's the middle of the afternoon,"

Hiccup stretched, wincing as he pulled the stitches in his arm. "Morning to me. The sky is certainly gray enough." He squinted reproachfully at the clouds.

"What were you thinking about?"

Antoni sighed, staring at the smoking fire. "Just about when I first met you."

Hiccup laughed. "Why?" He sat down on the grass next to Antoni.

"I don't know. Something about last night. It just made me think of when you first stumbled into camp."

"That was not fun. Being half-dead and then suddenly surrounded by people with a lot of very sharp objects generally constitutes a traumatizing experience."

Antoni rolled his eyes. "It's only because of your stupidity."

"Stupidity that saved my life."

He had no suitable response for that, and the conversation fell into silence.

"I'm going to take the company out later today. We need to practice getting ready quickly, what with the raids that are happening."

The raids. At least twice a week for the past three, there had been an attack on the camp. Nothing major, just burning down some tents and scaring people half to death, but it was taking a toll. Paranoia seeped through the camp like an illness.

"I'll be sure to get Luka ready then."

"If my suspicions are correct though, I'm not sure any of you are going to be able to help."

Antoni nodded. Hiccup, after studying the before of the raider, had decided it might be a Night Fury.

However, this one...it wasn't on their side.

And if he was right, none of the Stormwardens or Lighters that the rest of the Dragon Company rode would be effective in either speed or firepower.

"I'll call you in later," Hiccup said, standing up. "I'm going to go get breakfast."

"Supper."

He winked. "The life of a night soldier."

Antoni chuckled, watching his best friend walk away. Hiccup really was worried though. He had lacked a certain shine in his eyes. There was some pressure on his shoulders that he wouldn't acknowledge, but was still there nonetheless.

Homesickness.

The one time Hiccup had admitted it, he had been reluctant. After all, the army was his home. He had friends, a life. Had had a family.

Sometimes though, he missed Berk. The strange, faraway island he said was his birthplace. He missed something there.

But still, he had said, this was where he needed to be.

*Hiccup is Danish. He actually said 'Jeg vil ikke såre dig,' (I won't hurt you) but with a voice so weak, and Antoni's prior knowledge of Norwegian, Antoni obviously assumed the word to be the Norwegian variant, skade.