CHAPTER 13
The fire in the forge was always lit when someone was present. Its warmth spread through the building, a barrier against the harsh cold wind that blew off the ocean year round. Now, however, it was low, half-forgotten by the sole occupant in the forge.
Shoulders hunched, he stared into the fire, his fingers curled around a small leather arm guard, his knuckles white. The glint of the fire reflected in his green-gage eyes. A weary expression shadowed his face.
Toothless tried not to think too much about the past.
It was far easier to push aside all thoughts of his past life and to focus on the present or to pretend that he didn't have some destiny to reunite the humans and dragons hanging over his head.
Sometimes, when he was with Camicazi and the Bog-Burglars, he would close his eyes and imagine that he lived a normal life, growing up in a Viking village and not in the secluded woods or traveling from place to place to avoid suspicion.
There was a time when he contemplated just how easy it would be to settle down somewhere and ignore the Fates' calling. He was ashamed to admit that he'd done it before. More than a few times, he'd stayed in a place for far too long, pretending that he was one of those nameless faces in nameless tribes, or hidden among the dragons in his Night Fury form, ignoring the enormous weight of the task ahead of him. He could only stay hidden for so long before his guilt set in. Dragons weren't meant to stay on the ground.
To choose the life of a Viking was to give up his dragon roots. To choose the life of a dragon was to disregard everything the Sage had taught him and the amulet that gave him his power.
His own family was gone, taken from him. He had the Sage and the amulet around his neck to thank for his second chance, and he would stop at nothing to fulfill the task he'd been given. He could never sacrifice one life for the other.
But that idea never left him.
The embers popped, rousing him from his thoughts. With it came unbidden memories of another fire.
Toothless glanced down at the thing in his hands. He fingered the rough leather, running his thumb over the metal plating that ran across the front of it. The narrowed eyes and oval head etched into the metal gleamed, polished to a dull sheen from the number of times he'd repeated the motion over the years.
In the firelight, the Grimsavage Tribe crest leered up at him.
He glared at it and, like many times in the past, was tempted to throw it into the fire. But whenever he tried, his fingers wouldn't let go.
He heaved a sigh, his thumb still moving across the emblem.
Why do I still have this?
One year after they had slaughtered his family, the Grimsavage tribe had been struck down by a terrible disease. They had no close allies that could help them or wouldn't strike them down on sight. They were left helpless on their island. It decimated every one of them in weeks. Unable to spread across the hundreds of leagues of ocean, the disease had dispersed as quickly as it had come, taking with it the flesh of its victims.
Years later, the Sage had taken Toothless back to the island so that he could finally honour his clan's death. He couldn't even bring himself to enter his family's clearing. Whether it was his shame, or guilt, or anguish, or a mixture of all of it, he still didn't know. Instead, he'd sat in the treeline and cried. No amount of willpower could have let him hold his human form in that forest, surrounded by the ghosts of his family.
The Sage had been kind to him. He always had been. From the moment he'd saved Toothless to the day he'd entered Valhalla, he'd been someone for Toothless to look up to. In a way, he was more of a father than a mentor. His death had left him devastated, even though the man himself had come to terms with death many years before.
The old man hadn't said a word while Toothless grieved the loss of his clan. He'd let him mourn for as long as he needed, waiting patiently until he picked himself up off the ground and shifted back into his human form.
After that, the Sage had led him into the village.
"They have been struck down as punishment for their deed," the Sage had said quietly as they walked through the ruins of the tribe that still haunted the young dragon's nights. "Their legend lives on, but their bodies will remain here until Ragnarok."
The arm guard had been among the bones of the chief whose hulking figure was slumped over in its chair, grasped in his skeletal hand. It was too small for the man holding it, more of suited for fitting snugly around a far smaller arm.
Toothless couldn't leave it. He hated it, but he knew he could never leave that island without taking it with him.
The Sage had barely cast an eye over it, saying that it was his responsibility to keep it hidden. For years it had been tucked away in the bottom of his satchel.
It was dangerous to carry, but Toothless couldn't bring himself to part with the thing. It was the only piece left of his past. It was his reminder of what had happened and what he'd lost, just as the amulet around his neck was a reminder of what he still needed to do.
Maybe when this was all done, he would be able to get rid of it. Maybe after that, he could find somewhere to settle. Maybe he could stay on Berk a little longer if only to stay in the forest.
Maybe he'd finally be able to tell Hiccup, and then he wouldn't have to hide.
Footsteps neared the forge. Toothless' head whipped up, alarmed. He caught a whiff of pine and the metallic scent of iron, and…eel? Hastily, he shoved the arm guard into the bottom of his bag just as Hiccup entered.
"How was training?" Toothless asked. He made a point of pulling out his toolkit and setting it on the table, opening it under the guise of searching for a tool.
Hiccup shrugged. "I, uh… took an eel into the ring."
A pause. "You took an eel into the ring?"
"I snuck back in after and got rid of it."
"Why on earth would you take an eel into the ring?" Toothless asked incredulously.
The Viking rubbed the back of his neck. "You mentioned that the dragons don't like them so I figured that it would be a good backup plan if something went wrong with the Zippleback and I needed to get it back into the cage without it attacking. It worked, so…."
Toothless couldn't help it. The mental image of Hiccup, short and scrawny, corralling a two-headed beast back into its cage was too much for him. He threw back his head and laughed.
"It's not that funny," Hiccup huffed.
"No, it really is. Hiccup, how did no one notice you take an eel into the ring?"
"I…hid it under my jacket?"
That set him off again and Toothless clutched his sides as he shook with laughter. Now that he had mentioned it, his heightened senses picked up more traces of the slimy creatures' stench clinging to Hiccup's clothes. It smelled so bad!
Hiccup let out a long-suffering sigh and pulled off the offending jacket and tossed it into the back room. He grabbed his apron and shoved it over his head, tying it and wiping his hands on the front.
"Well, it worked out alright in the end otherwise the dragon could have lit the entire ring on fire." He cast Toothless an unimpressed look but the corners of his mouth were twitching upward. "If you're done laughing, relight the forge. I've got this new idea I want to try out, and you know what Gobber's like if we're in here and the forge isn't lit."
Toothless grinned. "Another new idea?" he asked, all thoughts of the Grimsavage Tribe vanishing as he used the billows to relight the forge fire. "What's next? Using dragon nip on the Gronckle?"
He missed the thoughtful expression of Hiccup's face.
The Night Fury was watching him. He swore he saw it out of the corner of his eye, a silent shadow as he picked his way back to the village. And it wasn't the first time.
The dragon was a master at hiding. Even as the sun shone through the trees, it still managed to stay hidden.
He felt the prickle of a set of eyes on his back and fought the urge to glance behind him, knowing that if he did, he probably wouldn't see anything anyway. If Hiccup was lucky, maybe he would catch a stirring of leaves, a swinging branch, a flicker of black.
After the third day, Hiccup chose to ignore his second shadow, taking delight in the peacefulness of the forest instead.
He understood why Nraseri liked walking in the early mornings.
For Hiccup, it was a chance to get away from his village and the sudden attention he was getting from the villagers. Two weeks had passed since training had started and in that short span of time, people had started to notice his progress.
Lately, he found that he had little time to himself between training and working in the forge. Just this morning, Mulch had asked his opinion on the latest fish catch. Was it larger than usual even with the dragons raiding? Hel if he knew. And yesterday, three people had willingly approached him to praise his "prowess in the ring" and clapped him heartily on the back so hard he'd almost fallen over.
He never thought he'd miss the solitude that failure brought him. He didn't like being the center of attention. Still, he was learning more than he ever would on his own. By combining what Nraseri had been teaching him before and the training he was doing now, competing with the other teens was much easier than he'd expected. Add what he was learning about the dragons, and Hiccup actually had a chance to win. Not that he was planning on it. He wasn't in this to win.
The last thought made him slow his pace. What would his father think of him if he knew what Nraseri was teaching him? Chances were that he'd be furious. He wouldn't approve. None of them would.
Hiccup scowled and shook his head. It didn't matter if he didn't approve. What mattered was that there was more to the dragons than what they know. Something was missing and Hiccup was determined to figure out what that something was. And he was sure it had to do with the Night Fury tailing him through the forests of Berk.
He sat down on a rock, enjoying the brief warmth of the sun that filtered through the trees. His companion rustled the leaves of the brush on his left. Hiccup watched it out of the corner of his eye. He could make out its large oval head and the large flap that he suspected was its left ear.
Not taking his eye off it, Hiccup reached into his jacket to pull out his notebook and piece of charcoal.
His dagger fell out of his jacket.
Hiccup froze.
He stared at it, his heart pounding. He thought he'd secured it into his belt. It shouldn't have fallen out. He should have left it in the forge. The dragons, like all creatures, were threatened at the sight of a naked weapon.
There was no sound. Not a whisper of breath or a stir of leaves. No low growling from the dangerous beast that could so easily kill him, nothing.
With achingly slow movement, he hazarded a glance upward.
The Night Fury hadn't moved. It watched him from the shadows, eyes narrowed into green slits.
Hands trembling slightly, Hiccup reached down, grasped the dagger and, careful not to make any sudden movements, picked it up. As he did, it caught the sunlight and a dot of light reflected on the ground.
A curious warble emanated from the shadows.
Hiccup looked up.
The Night Fury had started forward a few inches, the top of its head just breaking the top of the brush. He could again see the green eyes of the dragon. Its pupils were large, gaze pinned on the reflected dot of light. Hiccup lifted the dagger slightly, the dot moved. The Night Fury's eyes followed it. Hiccup moved it to the right. The angular shadow moved with it.
Huh.
He tried moving it away from the bushes, but those eyes settled on him again in a silent warning. So much for coaxing him out.
Still, the fact that that light trick worked….
Hiccup looked down at the dagger. They were facing the Terror soon, after the Nadder again. So far, he'd used the eel and a wad of dragon nip against the Gronckle. Neither of those would be easy to sneak in since the eel stank and he didn't have any nip. But this could be useful.
The Nadder was fierce and fast, that much had been proven by their fail attempt to combat it in the first week. He wouldn't have time to prepare this. But against a Terror?
The Night Fury was gone when he looked up, but he knew it was still there. Hiccup smiled. "Thanks, Bud."
He was sure he heard an indignant huff a little to his left.
Ha ha what did I say about hoping that writer's block wouldn't impede me?
I am so sorry, guys, for making you wait this long for an update. I wasn't aware how long it had been since updating and any excuse I give will sound silly. Truthfully, my muse for this story puttered out some time ago. I had so many other things to work on and I was having trouble working on them as well. However, this story is close to my heart and I will never abandon it. Updates are coming, but it's just going to be a while before this is finished.
I was going to upload this earlier, but it was originally a longer chapter. However, after much debate, I decided that, though this is a bit of a filler, it is important on its own. Now I just have to finish the next chapter. (ugh, come on, brain! Don't fail me now!)
I promise the plot picks up. It's picking up as of this chapter, now that a chunk of the buildup is completed. Unexpected things will happen. Not all is well for our friends on Berk and the dragons of the Archipelago.
Let me know what you think of this chapter :)