A small smile curved Astrid's mouth as she held up another fish, just out of reach of the pint-sized Night Fury's teeth. With another stubborn growl, the baby dragon pushed off her lap and snapped at it, the woman moving it slightly out of range. When it came back down to all fours, it gave her a filthy look; the small reptile knew she was teasing it and wasn't as amused.
Astrid was sitting cross-legged at the base of the guard tower closest to the docks, accompanied by three of the recently acquired baby Night Furies. Since their arrival, the little dragons had branched out with enthusiasm to explore their new home. These ones had been following her around for most of the day, clamoring loudly and getting into absolutely everything until she had stopped to feed them.
Two of the three were already curled up next to her, one against each hip, napping with full bellies. The last one was perched precariously on her lap, giving her sour stares as it tried to figure out how to claim its prize. The woman dangled the fish low once more, wiggling it a bit to recapture the small dragon's attention.
She yelped in surprise as her Nadder, who had been quietly preening nearby, snapped for it, missing by inches.
"Hey! No, not for you! Not this time." She scolded. The bigger dragon gave her an offended snort, the returned to preening as if nothing had happened.
Astrid had barely had time to recover when there was an unexpected shove off her shoulder and her arm was suddenly dragged to the ground by added weight. The baby Night Fury had managed to wrap itself around her forearm, evening the playing field.
"Well, look at you," She grinned and loosened her grip on the contested fish, "Clever thing."
The dragon attacked its meal, swallowing it down in two bites. When it was done, it chirped happily and rested its head on her knee, yellow-green eyes closing and producing a gentle humming purr.
"Easy there, lover boy," She patted the small reptile's head, "I've already got a dragon. I don't know if I could handle two."
As it chirped again, she frowned, a sudden realization dawning on her. Because they hadn't had much experience with Night Furies, Toothless being the exception, how in the gods' names were they going to know the difference between males and females?
To be honest, that may be a better question for her husband. To Astrid, all three of the baby Night Furies were just black, scaly bundles of mischief.
With a sigh, she scooped up the one using her leg as a pillow and stood, wincing as a knee popped; guess you can't stay young forever.
"Keep an eye on these two, okay?" She caught the attention of her own pale blue dragon, "They got into enough trouble earlier; we don't need more."
The Nadder snorted, obviously not thrilled at the thought of babysitting, but agreed and dropped down between the two sleeping younglings.
"Thank you." She smiled and lovingly scratched the Nadder under the chin. Once it produced a contented hum, she departed, baby Night Fury cradled in her arms.
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Ariela gave her straps one more check, satisfied with her repairs. Luckily, the damage had been minimal, but that wasn't going to stop her from hiding her gear after today. Gathering up her saddle in her small arms, she hauled it off the worktable, scrambling to try to grab up any straps that had fallen loose so she wouldn't trip on them. With how small she was, it wasn't a rare occurrence, but it wasn't going to stop her from putting in an effort against it. After slowly moving her hand along the edge of the hardened leather, she let out a sigh of relief as she found all of the various buckles and ties bunched in her opposite hand.
Heartened by her success, Ariela made her way out of the leatherworks side of the forge, letting out a sharp trill as she passed the door. There was a throaty snort and she heard the rustling of wings, quickly followed by a mass of crimson and orange land beside her.
"Hullo, Feather," She smiled up at the immense dragon, dwarfed in its shadow, "Fancy a fly?"
The dragon responded with another snort and dropped itself lower to the ground to allow Ariela a chance to successfully throw her saddle onto its narrow back. It waited patiently as she made her way back and forth, carefully fastening each buckle and tying each knot snuggly so that she wouldn't come loose and have to be rescued on her fall back to the ground.
Once she was done, the girl hauled herself into the saddle and leaned forward, scratching the base of the dragon's neck. It hummed contentedly and leaned into her touch, allowing her fingers to brush over its dry scales more easily.
"So, where to?" Ariela asked, looking skyward, " Want to do a few laps around the island, or see if we can beat our time to the Gate and back?"
The dragon launched skyward, pumping its powerful wings to gain altitude until it breached the first layer of dark clouds and widened its wingspread until it was floating lazily on the weak thermals above Berk.
"Ready?"
The Nightmare let out an enthusiastic squawk and she tapped its side with her left foot.
Ariela barely had time to catch a solid breath before the dragon surged forward and she had to duck tight to her saddle, fingers wrapped tightly around the grip in front of her, to keep from being blown backwards. Once she found a rhythm to the rise and fall of the dragon's wings, a grin spread across her face, parting the thin slashing scar that crossed her mouth and made its way across her nose. Even as frost built on her eyelashes and she hunched her shoulders against the wind, there was still nothing like flying. She knew Feather felt the same way; the dragon loved to fly just for the pure joy of it. Not all of the reptile's brethren felt to same way, so it was nice to have someone who understood.
It didn't take long before they were soaring over the ever-present mist that coated the island still known as Helheim's Gate, carefully avoiding the rock formations that were higher than others and racing for the mountain island at the center. Once they'd found and pulled a tight loop around it, Ariela daring an attempt to brush the rocky sides with her fingertips to Feather's displeasure, they turned north again to head for home. Pleased with its sprint to the Gate, the dragon found a more leisurely pace in the way back, giving the girl time to her own thoughts; which she voiced aloud to her winged companion.
"Okay, so correct me if I'm wrong, but when you offer your help to a friend and they are thrilled to have it, wouldn't you expect them to talk to you a little more about it? Like, they enthusiastically are very appreciative of it, then they don't say a word after their first time chatting with you about it. Is there something I'm missing in that equation?"
Feather gave the girl a non-commental snort, implying that she continue, even though it had no advice on the matter.
"I mean, I understand if they suddenly change their minds, but a warning would be nice, because I feel like a bit of an idiot just waiting for someone to say something. Which is mildly annoying, because I'd really rather they patch things up. The entire village has become so uncomfortable with the tension between two people. Two bloody people."
Feather glanced over its shoulder, giving her a look that basically claimed it was not Ariela's fault.
"I'm perfectly aware it's not my fault," The girl sighed, "I just don't like being useless. And it's not like I can really help much of anywhere else. I'm not strong like most of the village, and not really an extraordinary craftsman. Not to mention, I don't think Freya wants help with surveying either. I know she mostly took the job to be left alone while she sorts everything out." She chewed her upper lip, considering the issues that lay in front of her. Under her, her dragon lamented being unable to get across that maybe the girl would be better off helping with the new baby Night Furies, which had become absolute menaces in just the few days they had been on Berk. Feather was still nursing a smarting tail, which had been delightfully numbed by the cold air of higher altitudes.
"I've decided," Ariela said firmly, "Boys, especially Adrian, are dumb and Freya is beyond stubborn. Like, she is the queen of stubborn. More stubborn than Stoick, Hiccup and Astrid put together. It seriously has to run in the family….."
Now that Feather could agree with. The dragon had seen enough of both of the subjects of Ariela's frustration to know that the girl wasn't wrong.
"But I still don't want to give up on them. They're both good people and amazing friends; they need each other, if we're honest. Oh, don't you give me that," The girl glowered as the dragon rolled its eyes, "Of all the dragons I know, I had to pick the one that's sarcastic."
At that, Feather growled, offended.
"Oh hush, I love you and you know it. No matter how sassy you get with me."
Placated, the dragon snorted and began a gentle dive, Berk coming into view far beneath them. Ariela sighed, forgetting for the moment that evil was coming to the lonely island soon and just enjoyed the sight of her home, quietly standing among the small waves that lapped at the cliffs below.
Feeling the slight flex in Feather's back, Ariela grabbed the grip again and tucked low as the dragon's dive deepened and dropped them faster towards the water below. Just moments before they would have made contact with the dark ocean under them, Feather caught a gust coming off the water and let it carry them back up, only making occasional sweeps of its wings to gain altitude.
"One quick loop around the island?" Ariela asked, "Just to check on everyone real fast?"
The dragon tossed its head in consent and banked lightly, making its way towards Raven Point at a lazy pace, allowing the girl to look at the land below. As they came around the far side of the point, she saw Freya talking with Hiccup just within the tree line. She allowed herself a small smile, glad to see the other girl in one piece.
From there, Feather moved inland, gently popping them over Berk's peak and followed a steady path towards the village itself. The air traffic began to pick up and the dragon ducked lower and lower until they were gliding just over roof tops, making it simple for Ariela to see everyone below. Astrid was hauling on a rope with several other villagers, pulling a section of wall into place so that it could be placed in the ground and attached to the section beside it. Stoick was bellowing orders, people scrambling around him to get done what they could. Gobber was entering his forge, raw metals in hand to be forged into weapons and materials. And Adrian was passing her house at a fast walk, a trail of small black dragons on his heels.
"Oh dear." Ariela said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. The boy has been found and was likely to soon be sporting a new set of injuries.
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"Well, look at yeh. Caught up, did they?"
Adrian miserably opened an eye to look up at Gobber, an irritated frown twisting his mouth.
"Of course you'd be here," He grumbled, "Who told?"
"Well, unlike Miss Sassy, who prolly woulda laughed 'erself sick ah this poin'," Gobber crouched down to get on a more even level, "Lil' Ariela was worried about yeh. No' that I blame 'er." He looked down at Adrian's left arm.
Firmly attached just below the elbow was one of the young Night Furies, slowly gnawing away. The boy tried to lift his captive arm, only to provoke a growl from the small dragon and he winced as its grip tightened, fresh blood beginning to run over several layers of dried blood.
"Would yeh like some 'elp there?"
"That would be much appreciated. I mean, it could be worse," He hissed loudly as the older man placed a pair of large fingers on either side of the creature's jaws and pinched, forcing them open, "Every now and then, the teeth would retract."
Gobber let out a low whistle and Adrian looked down, grimacing miserably at what he saw.
"Could be worse, eh?" The Viking placed his hand on the little dragon's head and pinned it to the ground, ignoring its indignant growls, and hooked Adrian's wrist with his artificial hand and inspected the underside of his arm.
"How bad?"
"Lad, how many of those scars are from tha' tragic past o' yers? Because I'm pretty sure dragons have been tha death of yeh."
"Lovely."
"Go get tha' bandaged up," Gobber shook his head, "Before another one finds yeh."
"No kidding," Adrian pushed himself to his feet with his right arm, the left clenched protectively against his chest, "Thanks Gobber."
"Aye." The man flapped his good hand at him, tucking the dragon under an arm; Adrian tried not to laugh as the little beast tried to squirm away from the smell.
He bade Gobber farewell and began to make the climb up the ramps to the Elder's home, trying to ignore the painful throb in his arm. He didn't know what it was about him that compelled young dragons to sharpen their teeth on him, but the process was beginning to get very old.
Reaching the top of the ramps, he turned to his right and took the grassy hill to the old woman's home at a light jog, muttering darkly about small islands that compensated for their size with steep slopes. He gave himself a moment to catch his breath at the base of the stairs, then climbed them. He reached the doorway and raised his good hand to knock, fighting hard to bring it to a halt as the door opened.
The Elder had brought it ajar, allowing space for another to leave; namely Freya, whose arms were wrapped around a large bundle that blocked her view of Adrian. She collided with him, a small squeak of surprise escaping her. Forgetting the pain in his arm, Adrian dove for the bundle, catching one end as Freya caught the other.
Once the girl had all the weight back in her hands, she gave him an apologetic glance.
"Sorry about that. Here, I'll get out of your way." She tried to edge past him, freezing at his pained hiss when she bumped his injured arm. After turning to figure out the cause, Freya winced.
"Some things never change, do they?" She asked dryly, allowing herself a small smile.
"No matter how hard I try." Adrian muttered, holding out his arm for the Elder to inspect. He found it hard to hide his distress as the old woman shook her head and beckoned him inside.
"Well," Freya shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, "Hope that doesn't take too long to heal. You've been busy."
"Uh, yeah, you too. You're back early." He kicked himself mentally when her eyebrows knitted in slight confusion.
"I forgot to bring extra paper, so Dad brought me back early," She shifted again, obviously becoming even more uncomfortable, "Anyways, I hope you get everything sorted out."
"Yes. I mean, I will, "Adrian's shoulders dropped, "I'll try."
"Mm. Well…. Bye."
"Yeah… Bye."
Adrian watched her go, grey eyes as gloomy as the storm clouds above them. A dull throb in his left arm reminded him why he was there and he turned back to the open doorway, trying to push dark thoughts out of his mind. He jolted to a halt, trying not to trip over the tiny woman behind him.
"What?" He asked, unnerved by the stare she was giving him, mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown that increased the wrinkles around it twofold. She glanced once at Freya's retreating back, then shook her head and beckoned that he come inside. As he did, she gestured sharply for him to close the door behind him.
Adrian mutely obeyed, then carefully advanced, stepping over and around the multitude of Terrors that meandered about the small house.
The Elder shooed another away from her worktable and indicated that he should sit before bustling to the far wall. As he did, she began gathering various herbs and implements, occasionally glancing over his way to find the best materials that would cater to his tortured arm.
"Is it that bad?" Adrian asked, worry starting to show on his face.
The Elder placed the supplies on the table with a very firm 'thump', eyes narrowed in his direction.
"I guess so….," He mumbled, dropping his gaze, "I've had worse though. Remember when I got mobbed by-" He cut short as there was a sharp cuff to the back of his head. He scowled, but obeyed as the Elder pointed a gnarled finger at the table, indicating that he should place it in her reach. Placated, she inspected his arm closely, then sighed and hurried away to put a pot of water over the fire to boil. When she returned, she gestured again, asking for an explanation.
"Those baby Night Furies found me and seem to be compelled like the rest of the baby dragons around here and needed to chew on me. I managed to lose most of them, but one was particularly persistent until Gobber rescued me. I don't know what it is about me."
The woman shrugged, indicating that she was also at a loss, and returned to inspecting his arm. After a few minutes, she returned to the fire and took some of the water from the pot in a large bowl and brought it back to the table, nudging Terrors out of her way with one small foot. She climbed up onto a small stool and put a clean rag in the bowl before dabbing gently at Adrian's arm. He did his best not to flinch, but that didn't stop one or two whimpers from escaping him; the Elder politely ignored him, giving him some semblance of dignity.
The old woman continued to clean away the dried blood, every now and then returned to the nearby bowl to rinse out a bit of the blood on the rag, patiently cleaning each tooth mark in Adrian's arm. When the boy bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, trying to ignore the pain, she hesitated as something under the crusty layers of red caught her eye. After another round of scrubbing at Adrian's tender injuries, her wrinkled eyes widened, unsure of what she was seeing.
Faintly showing on his sun-kissed skin was a pale handprint, wrapped around his forearm as if someone had grabbed him. Something about it set the Elder's teeth on edge, but when she blinked, it was gone.
The rest of the time she spent cleaning, she found no sign of the mark, which left her with many questions that she didn't know whether or not the boy had answers to; he'd certainly made no comment on the matter, leading her to believe that he may not have even known it was there. But she did, and when something made her skin crawl the way it had, she knew better than to ignore it. But she'd also lived long enough to be cautious of things that behaved in such a way.
Adrian had noticed her go deep into thought and it caused him concern as well, but not in the same way.
"Night Furies don't have venom, right?" He asked hesitantly, "So, I should be okay?"
The woman returned her gaze to him, looking confused for a moment, then she smiled and nodded; he should be fine, as long as he kept to wounds clean.
"Okay, good. You were just worrying me…" He explained and the woman shook her head, claiming that there was no reason to feel that way. She finished wrapping up his arm and gave it a light pat, indicating that she was done.
"Thank you," Adrian said softly and stood, "I'll get out of your way."
She smiled and gently gestured him away. He stayed in place, watching as she slowly moved around her home and cleaned up. After a moment's thought, Adrian picked up some of the bottles on the table and waited for the Elder to turn. When she did, he held them up with an awkward shrug, both asking where they should go and offering his help in the same gesture. She led him to a large wall of bottles on the other side of the room and slowly pointed out where each one went, Adrian following her directions as she gave them. When they were done putting away all of the old woman's materials, Adrian glanced at the fire place and noticed the condition the large pot over the flames was in.
"You know, the bottom on that is starting to get a bit thin," He said slowly, unsure of how the woman would react, "If you'd like, when my arm heals up, I could make you a new one down at the forge. Gobber taught me how not that long ago, and I feel like I never do anything for you."
The Elder smiled sweetly and wove him off, but patted his closer hand in thanks.
"No really, I insist. Please?"
Another look at the young man's face and the woman sighed and nodded her consent. He grinned in response and made his way towards the door.
"I'll make sure to work hard on it," He promised, "I know you have to patch up a lot of people, so you'll need a good quality one." He narrowly avoided tripping over a Terror that was stretched out a foot in front of the door. Once he was around it, he pulled the door open and stepped outside. Giving her a final grin, Adrian closed the door behind him and departed.
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After waiting several minutes to confirm Adrian's departure, the Elder turned and shuffled to the room in the back of her house, usually used for preparing the dead. She pulled aside the rough black curtain, a dark look shadowing her face. Something was wrong with that boy, and she wanted at least half an idea of what she was dealing with. She glanced back over one shoulder, making sure she was alone, before closing the curtain again. She passed by the heavy set table in the center of the room and made her way to the back with small, taxing steps. When she came to a halt in front of the wall, she looked up, gazing at a carved mural of the gods. Her eyes traveled over the face of each one before she reached up and brushed the throne of a man with a winged crown and one eye. He was flanked by two large ravens and gazed out with a knowing expression. She looked at him imploringly, then dropped her gaze to the crevice in the wall below the mural. From it, she pulled a cloth bag that rattled as she moved it. She shook it a few times with trembling hands, then upended the bag onto the table, eyes traveling across each of the stones as they fell. Her frown deepened as she took in the symbols facing her, uncertain as to whether or not they were telling her anything at all. None of it made sense, nor could she even pull a partial answer from them to try to make something of it. Something was wrong and it was blocking her connection with the gods, making it impossible for her questions to reach the All-father.
There was something wrong with Adrian, and she didn't know what it meant for the safety of Berk.
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Adrian choked on water as it began to swiftly rise, his opening successfully punched in the hull. He splashed his way towards the thin ladder to the upper deck, coughing as he tried to clear the last of the water from his lungs. His soaking wet clothes pulled at him, slowing his process, but he wasn't going to miss this for the world. He finally reached the ladder and dragged himself up it, ignoring the shivers that began to wrack his body from his contact with the cold air. Once he managed to make his way to the upper deck, he struggled to keep his balance as the boat tilted, taking on water faster. Someone tried to attack him from the side and he dodged, kicking at their knee as he passed. They let out a cry of pain and he shoved them towards the side rails. Another well placed kick and they were overboard, screaming as they fell into the black waters below.
The boy glanced up and down the deck and found his way clear, so he took it at a sprint. He found one of the spear gun contraptions still mounted solidly on the deck and grabbed the back. He grunted as he shoved against it, trying to point it in the direction he wanted it. It twitched stubbornly, but didn't give. With a furious roar, he hauled on it with everything he had and it spun, locking into place. Dismayed that he couldn't turn it further, his head snapped up and he looked down the length of the spear. His luck appeared to be holding, because it was pointed straight towards the hull of the next ship, easily within range. At the rate that his ship was going down, he may be able to take that one with it. Checking his aim once more to be sure, he kicked the trigger mechanism and the boarding spear launched, punching into the next ship with immense force, the triple edged tip holding it fast.
Before he could utter any sound of celebration, the deck beneath him lurched and he was thrown onto his back as an arrow went sailing over his head. He managed to get to his knees before the deck lurched again and water spilled over the edges. There wasn't time to try to clear the rails as the vessel sank below the surface, but he managed to frantically swim clear of the mast as it fell in his direction. Once that too had sunk beneath the rolling water, he scrabbled for a piece of drifting debris to hold onto and watch as the second ship was dragged down. It was sickening, but satisfying to watch as the crew at first tried to cut the line to free themselves; but as it was dragged onto its side, they abandoned it and tried to make it to other ships in the small group. Most of them did and were brought aboard; some of them did not.
Adrian had only felt this level of success one other time in his life, but this time he knew he would very likely die. After this, they wouldn't put in the effort to keep their troublesome asset around.
The satisfaction was overwhelming, regardless of the cost, even as he watched those remaining ships sail away into the night. As he saw the stern of the last of them disappear, he finally allowed himself to look around. There was debris floating around him, more occasionally appearing as parts from the sunken ships broke free and rose to the surface. He let go of the small board he had originally had a grip on and slowly paddled his way to part of a broken mast, clinging to it and shivering violently as the frigid northern air tore at him. It wasn't a way he'd wanted to die, but he didn't really have any other options at this point; at least he'd made a point to Aulder's fleet, and hopefully sent a message out: The Empire was not invincible.
Hours passed and his shivering became more violent, despite his attempts to fight the cold. His breath came in hissing chatters and he was beginning to lose feeling in his limbs. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep and maybe the pain of being so bitterly cold would go away. He shifted his weight on the damaged mast and it dumped him, dunking his head below the water. Panic set in and he struggled back to the surface, grabbing the mast and holding it tight. He really didn't want to die.
"Do you want to live?" A voice asked, and he felt ice go through his veins, only this time it wasn't the temperature of the air. He looked up and his heart sped up, crashing around his chest as fear took hold.
Standing just on the surface of the water, was a woman, pale as moonlight and wrapped in a dark hooded cloak that obscured half her face. She had a cold beauty to her, one without mercy or kindness. Unsure he'd heard her correctly, Adrian stared into her black eyes as he shivered violently.
"I said, do you want to live?"
He nodded before he could stop himself. He should know better than to trust spirits, or other creatures of their liking, for they were more dangerous than any man.
The woman crouched, cold eyes unchanging, and held out her left hand, obscured beneath the cloak she was wrapped in. Desperate, he grabbed for it and prayed he wasn't making a mistake. The cloak slid away to reveal a skeleton hand, bones as white as a long dead creatures. It was too late to pull away as that hand locked around his arm and a searing pain shot through his system, feeling as though it was melting his skin away. He screamed in agony, unable to control himself.
"You will live," The woman said, her iron grip holding. "But next time, you are mine."
"I'm- what?"
"I am Hel, goddess of death. I will save you today, but the next time you die, you are mine."
To be honest, it was a better deal than he was getting without her help. Shivering violently, from fear or cold he couldn't tell, Adrian nodded. Hel released his arm and stood, her hood falling away.
Adrian held in a gasp of fear as he took in the monster before him. Half of her was the cold beauty he'd first seen, the second half was skeletal and gone. The only thing that remained were her dark, frozen eyes.
"Are you going to leave me here?" He asked, hoping she wouldn't flip her deal and have him die an hour later. The Hel's face turned towards the sky and she appeared to be waiting patiently. A moment later she turned back to him, a cold smile crossing the living side of her face; he tried not to gag as the skeletal side's jaw pulled the same way, but there was no skin to show it.
"I won't leave you long. You will be safe soon," She gave him a hard stare, "I gave you a deal that most don't get in my waters, don't waste it."
Before he could answer, Hel raised a hand and darkness filled his vision.
When his eyesight returned, he blinked rapidly, trying to concentrate. He was still shivering violently, but he was more alive than he had been. He was in bad shape, but he really could be worse.
It was difficult to concentrate, especially with a muffled sound pestering his ears as he tried to clear his head. He tried to ignore it, but it became more insistent until finally he turned his attention to where the sound seemed strongest. Just over his head was a man on a black winged creature, trying hard to talk to him. His tone was one of urgency, and at first Adrian only understood bits and pieces of what he said. Finally, his mind began to fill in the blanks until he could understand, then he returned his attention to the man to hear him properly.
"Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
Adrian nodded, but really couldn't do much else. He felt terrible.
"Just hang on, we'll get you out of here." The man said and his black creature descended, scooping him out of the water. After that, Adrian only briefly felt the wind in his face before his world returned to black.
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Adrian's eyes snapped open and he shot upright, gasping for air as if he hadn't been breathing for hours. Once his panic subsided, he dragged his fingers through his soaking hair, trying not to shiver too violently at the cold sweat that covered him. It had been a long time since that night, and he had hoped he'd never have to relive it. But it had been so vivid, as if he had just made the deal again. And that thought terrified him.
"What do you want from me?" He hissed angrily to the darkness, "I don't have time for your games."
He was met only with silence, which infuriated him in ways he'd never felt before. He felt toyed with, and that was the last thing he needed. A nightmare to haunt his nights with another lurking just beyond the horizon, its bows set for Berk.
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Alrighty kids, here you go. I hope you guys like it, because I feel like I'm missing something.
As always, read, review and enjoy!