Toothless POV
As Hiccup had ordered, we began the fortifications that night. We dragons had the "Miscellaneous" tasks, which included tending the smithy fire, finding iron ore, uprooting trees to help make the wooden palisade, gathering explosive powder for the catapult ammunition – basically anything that a human had no time for. By the time we were done, Berk was surrounded by five-meter thick walls of wood and stone – with iron plating over the outside facing. The defenses of the physical island also extended to barricading the beaches, so the Berserkers would have trouble establishing a beachhead. We only had time to erect these defenses because of very stormy weather out to sea that prevented safe passage of ships. It took us three weeks of solid shift-work. In the entire three weeks, I got around four hours of sleep. When I actually did get to sleep, Hiccup told me later that I slept a good two days solid. Funnily enough, the morning I woke up led to the evening of the attack…
"SAR! THEY'RE COMIN' FOR THE ISLAND! TWO LEAGUES OUT! THEY'RE GETTIN' INTO FIRING POSITION!" Commodore Sven barked from the watchtower.
"Understood, Commodore. Good thing everyone is already underground." Just then, I heard the piercing whistle of a shell flying towards us. It flew straight into the iron-plated wall. Gobber had given this iron his specialty hardness ('To the point of a Viking's head!' he had once said), to the point that the shell bounced off, and landed on the ground. Soon, the metallic TING! of the shells bouncing off became a steady and frequent rhythm, and all of the dragons took that as their cue to strike. Hiccup had locked my tailfin long since, and I led the attack.
We all had specific roles to play. The Monstrous Nightmares would spread out, ignite, and land on the wooden parts of the ships, setting it on fire passively as they scorched it at the same time. The Deadly Nadders would fight the aircraft, since they had far more spines than we all had shots. The Zipplebacks would lay swaths of gas that the Gronckles would ignite. And I, with the Thunderdrums, would disrupt the enemy every time they tried anything.
I saw another metal ship, and, remembering what I did to take it out last time, I dove on it, collecting the gas in my throat for nearly a full minute in my slow, controlled dive. When I let it fly, the recoil of the firing action made me lose control for a few seconds. The warship was hit dead underneath the tower in the middle, and the blast - I had deemed the target too big for a bolt that doesn't explode to do any real damage – made it through the armor, detonating what must have been an ammunition rack. The warship was ripped in half, and sank within the next four minutes or so. I tried to take out the biggest targets, destroying another two warships in the same manner. Then I reflected on something that I had first done in the cove, around the time I met Hiccup.
I had fired a steady stream of fire, not a regular blast. It was weaker in terms of pure destructive power, but more effective for setting things on fire.
So, I spewed a stream of fire at a fifteen-ship-long line abreast, setting all of them on fire. Well, that was easy. I saw a Thunderdrum attack a fourth warship, and his sonic blast was strong enough that the warship flipped over. The Monstrous Nightmares wreaked havoc on the wooden warships.
Everything was going to plan until the all-too-familiar drone of aircraft started to make itself heard. I had already expended the last of my shots on a few more ships, so I peeled away from the ships and hawked over the sea closer to Berk. But the drone kept getting louder. Are they coming after me? I wondered. Then I saw four aircraft fly right past me and head for Berk.
These aircraft were unlike anything we'd seen up until that point, with two propellors, only one pair of wings and what seemed to be an all-metal structure. They were also far faster than the older (I'm assuming) aircraft. Too fast for a Deadly Nadder – but not for me. I tore off after them. But as I got close, guns on the back of the aircraft blazed into action, and I scrambled out of the way to avoid getting shot up. I judged that they surely couldn't defend themselves if I came up underneath. I got to within slashing distance, and clawed the left wing as hard as I could. I was surprised to suddenly get a mouthful of fuel. I spat as much out as I could, and used a tiny flame – it was all I could muster – to consume the rest.
Being sure to stay out of the way of the fuel spilling, I raked my claws across the wing, destroying the underside and significantly reducing its lift. As a result of the lowered lift and increased drag, the aircraft veered off to the left, its tail clubbing me as it started to fall from the sky. I scrambled to keep up, but the aircraft were now aware of me and were turning to line up their rear guns towards me. Then they caught me in a crossfire. I danced around the sky, trying to avoid the veritable hail of bullets. A few caught my wings and punctured them here and there, but it wasn't severe damage, and my fire had returned. I blasted one in the wing where I knew there was fuel, and it exploded in midair. The last one started to dive. At first I had no clue what it was doing, and I followed it down. Then small canisters fell from the bottom, and I saw explosions light up where the canisters hit. This aircraft seemed to be piloted with either some extreme skills or by a total novice, because his flight pattern was very erratic – he wasn't flying coordinated, and was side slipping all over the skies. Either way, it was going to be nearly impossible to hit. I fired my last shot…
And to my eternal shame, I missed. Until, that is, he side slipped right back into the blast. Suddenly missing a fair portion of his left fuselage, he turned back toward the anti-dragon support of the fleet, but the drag slowed it dramatically as well. I slammed into the trailing edge of the wing hard enough that my vision became hazy, like there was a thick fog. I instinctively sank my claws into the skin of the aircraft to recover. When my vision did clear, the pilot was aiming something right at me. I braked hard with my wings, hoping to tear off the wing, but this metal was too strong. I did throw off his aim, however, and a bullet sank into the wing rather than my head. I let go, and the aircraft fell in a flat spin, one of its engines blazing.
Meanwhile, the fleet was racing towards Berk, closing the distance to around a quarter of a league before opening fire once more. It was at this moment that I realized that even the wooden ships had those cannons. But our actual island defenses swung into action – literally. The catapults' shots exploded when they hit the longboats, destroying them, and 'only' took forty seconds to reload. The anti-dragon guns opened fire (finally, they noticed us). I danced around two explosions, not wanting to take any more damage. A Gronckle, who must not have noticed the start of the explosions, flew right through one, and fell to the ground. My fire finally re-charged, and I dove on the longboats with the most anti-dragon guns. When I let loose my first blast, it detonated more ammunition, and heavy debris, such as the gun barrels, damaged all of the surrounding vessels. I kept on dive-bombing, and ran out of shots…again. I started to ascend upwards, and heard a CRACK!, and not a moment later, pain exploded from my gut. Bleeding was instant and profuse. I glanced downwards, and watched a Berserker lower his weapon. I leveled off as soon as I could, and made for the island. An explosion tore my left wing. I didn't dare flap.
A few minutes later, I crash-landed – hard – in the middle of the village square. I had aimed for the Great Hall; I just didn't have the altitude or the speed for it. Hiccup, who must've been watching, burst out of the doors. I had never seen Hiccup move quite so fast. Or maybe I was seeing things. He slid the last ten meters as he tried to stop.
"Oh gods, bud. What happened to you?" He didn't wait for a reply, instead applying pressure to my gut with all of his not-so-considerable might. Through my dim vision, I saw Sven come up beside Hiccup. "Sven! Put some pressure on that wound! I'm getting Gothi."
"Dear Odin…Hoo did ya get yerself inta this mess? I never saw this kind of damage done to anything. Definitely not a stab wound, it's too deep an' there would be even more bleedin' if t'was." Too bad I could only tell Hiccup… Then Gothi showed up.
"Come on, make a space!" Hiccup yelled at the slowly gathering crowd. They parted to allow Gothi to hobble through. Sven shuffled over to allow her to come up and examine my wound. I could barely hear Sven telling Gothi what he knew. I had to tell Hiccup what it was. Otherwise, other dragons or even humans could get shot.
"Hiccup…" He bolted upright. "Shot…Berserker…handheld gun." The effort to even think that cohesively was enough to drain me completely, and I allowed my body to go limp, at least until Gothi had fixed me. I eventually drifted into unconsciousness, letting my eyelids rest.
I came to probably a few hours later. I was in the Great Hall, along with other dragons with similar wounds. Among them were the Gronckle shot down earlier, and a Zippleback who had unspeakable injuries.
"Toothless." If I had any energy, I probably would've jumped out of my scales. I warbled an acknowledgement. "Gothi says you'll scrape by. She says you should try to conserve your energy for a day or so, to let your body make up for all the blood you lost. And you lost a lot of blood. You seem to share with me a remarkable talent to bounce back from massive injuries."
"Is the fight still going?"
"Yes. Their fleet is slowly getting smaller. It's down to a hundred ships. Problem is, they're sending in more reinforcements constantly, and it's picking up to the point that in the time it takes for one ship to actually sink, so about half an hour, another ship comes up to join the fight. So it's at a hundred, but it's staying at a hundred."
3rd person POV
The fleet was slowly withdrawing, and they were still whittling down the number of combat-worthy dragons. Dagur was once again in an aircraft far from the battlefield, and was getting angrier with every ship they lost. He waved to his radio operator. "Tell Warship Alpha he may advance."
"YES, SIR! Warship Alpha, proceed for Berk at flank speed." A voice crackled over the radio.
"Roger, making best speed for Berk. Out."
"Sir, it'll take a few days for them to get here."
"Fine, fine! Just get them here!"
Toothless POV
The fight seemed to be lulling. The next day, they pulled away from Berk, presumably to repair and re-arm. My body had mostly regenerated the blood lost, and I made sure Hiccup knew. I went outside, and watched Astrid taking care of Stormfly. Somehow, they had both managed to get through the war so far without so much as a scratch. My wing was also in surprisingly good condition, all things considered. Gothi had cleared me for flight on the condition that I didn't pull any stunt-like maneuvers.
"Hey, Toothless!" Astrid called over. I bounded over, licking her from toe to head, as I often did with Hiccup. "ACKTHPBH! STOP IT!" She wiped my spit off of her. Well, I guess I can see why she doesn't like it, but still…She tossed me a fish. I accidentally swallowed it whole. My eyes bugged, and I coughed hard enough I accidentally blasted the ground. A slightly charred fish was all that was there when Stormfly and I beat away the smoke.
"Sorry about that, Stormfly." I looked sheepishly at the ground.
"Don't worry about it. I mean, Astrid may have a reaction, but I don't really care." I snapped up the fish. I still don't understand why humans cook their food. They make it so dry…
I looked out to the horizon, as I often did. There was a massive grey thing fairly close to the island. I tapped Stormfly, and pointed with my wing. Then I raced off to find Hiccup.
He was in the chief's house. "HICCUP!" My Covenant voice probably hit Hiccup's mind like a gale-force wind, but I had no time.
"Aagh-ow. What?" He held his head.
"There's a giant ship out there, as big as…oh gods. As big as the island."
"Surely you're exaggerating."
"No. Come on and see!" He leapt onto my back, and I took him to the shore. Sure enough, it was a league away, but it was close to the size of Berk.
"Oh. My. Gods. SOUND THE ALARM!" The foghorn blew, and everyone started for cover. Just then, the main battery of guns on the ship fired. Hiccup put my tail in position, and we took off as hard as possible. The dragons had all seen it, and were moving to engage it. A separate battery of anti-dragon guns put up a thick screen of cover. I fired at the sound of the blasting anti-dragon guns, and hit a few of them, making a hole that I promptly exploited. When I was near the ship, I saw the hull was riding low in the water with weight. I blasted the hull with a blast I had been collecting since I fired the first shot. When I let it loose, the explosion blew a hole in the side hull of the ship. I dove in, and saw an expansive room, full of munitions. I fired at the far end of the room and dove outside as the ammunition started to burn. When it finally detonated, the ship had a gaping hole where that magazine used to be, and started to take on water. Suddenly, as the ship started to list, I heard a scream.
Astrid's scream. I flew up and over the anti-dragon cover and saw Stormfly get hit – possibly for the second time – by a weapon of some sort. They fell to the island, crashing through a house that promptly collapsed on top of them. I alighted beside the ruins, let Hiccup off and started to dig. We finally unearthed Astrid, and she helped us dig Stormfly out.
"Thank heavens you're here!" Stormfly told me. "That house would have crushed me. As it is, I think my leg is –" CRACK! A shot rang through the air.
A/N: Ooh, cliffhanger! ;) As usual, all feedback is greatly appreciated! Also, flying coordinated means in aviation language that you're facing the same direction you're going. Side-slipping means you aren't.