How about that trailer huh? I just know I'm going to bawling my eyes out when the movie comes out.
Anyway, our little story continues. As always, read and enjoy, and maybe leave a note :)
Death was warm, too warm. She had expected the halls of Valhalla to be comforting, cozy with the heat of eternal fire…but this heat was stifling. Could Freya had claimed her for Folkvangr instead? Perhaps she had wound up in Hel…perhaps her life had not been as honorable as she had led it to be.
No…Valka felt hunger.
Was that supposed to happen in the afterlife?
She winced, opening her stingy, tired eyes to a discouraging sight. She was alone, in some sort of gray, moist cave, speckled with tapestries of moss. Lightheaded, she sat up, subconsciously checking herself for injuries.
Head: fine, other than dizzy.
Arms: fine.
Legs: stiff.
Hands: a few scrapes and cuts.
Torso: hungry and aching.
Throat: dry.
She searched for water. She could hear the telltale drip of running water, but could not see it, not from where she crouched. Wobbling all the way, she stood up to move around. The movement did her legs wonders, but discouraged her spirit further. The cave was huge, her little alcove merely a room in a sprawling labyrinth. Too frightened to venture further in, she turned and went in the opposite direction. She began to smell the sea, began to feel a bit of a breeze…but froze in her tracks.
At the mouth of the cave, curled up on its side, was the dragon.
"Oh gods…" Valka gripped the cavern wall to keep her knees from buckling.
The dragon took up the entire width of the cavern's mouth. Its body rose and fell steadily with each deep inhale and exhale. Valka could feel the heat sweeping over her feet. Its wings—its four wings, were crisscrossed over each other, wrapping the dragon up like a swaddling blanket. Most impressive were its frills, completely relaxed against its skull.
Valka had been intrigued by the creature before, but now she was terrified.
Despite the futility of it all, Valka croaked out a desperate whisper: "Stoick…"
"If anyone wakes him, I swear to Thor you'll be sweeping dragon cages for a month."
Stoick stomped into the hall, late for his council meeting. The meetings normally consisted of his trusted friends and advisors…but today the hall was crowded. Some of the people there had been displaced by the raid…but most were there to catch word of what exactly had happened at the Chief's house. Whispers arose as Stoick sat down, his son strapped across his chest in a sling.
The great man with such a small cargo would have been comical, had his eyes not been fierce and furious.
"Reports: now."
Buffnut stood up, "We have seven huts destroyed, fourteen in need of repairs, three confirmed dead and…" he paused, "one missing."
Stoick tried to hide the hitch in his breath. Fifteen hours ago she had been in his arms, and now…
"Have the displaced families been given shelter?"
"Some have, but we're waiting to see the full extent of the damage."
"Who is taking inventory?"
"Fisk."
"Good man for the job."
Buffnut sat down, immensely relieved.
"What dragons were we facing last night?" Stoick asked.
The breeds were announced individually: Monstrous Nightmare, Gronkle, Deadly Nadder, Hideous Zippleback, Terrible Terrors, and—
"Stormcutter," Gobber spoke up, "We had a Stormcutter last night."
Murmurs arose from the crowd.
"We've never had a Stormcutter around before!" Someone cried.
"It was terrifying!"
"How did it find us?"
"You should ask him," a venomous voice hissed.
Spitelout emerged from behind a pillar. His eyes were red and glassy. He pointed a jagged finger in Stoick's direction and snarled, "He's the one who attacked it before."
"Spitelout-"
"Go on Chief, tell them about our voyage. Our little trip to find the nest."
Stoick growled, but relented. He clutched Hiccup closer to his chest.
"We came across the Stormcutter on our voyage to the nest. We never found the nest, but we came across this dragon-"
"Tell the truth Stoick!" Spitelout demanded.
"Fine! We came across two Stormcutters! A male and a female! Mates!"
"And who gave the order to attack?"
"Me, alright? It was me," Stoick faced the crowd, "We took down the female but the male got away. A few days later it attacked us in a storm…then a few days after that…it followed us."
"To avenge its mate," Spitelout practically spat, "That's why it took her!"
"WE DON'T KNOW THAT!" Stoick roared. Hiccup jerked awake in his sling and bawled in alarm. Stoick, his heart shattered into irremediable pieces, continued, "We don't know why it took her! That doesn't prove anything!"
"Did the beast go in anyone else's homes? Did it?" Spitelout had turned crimson in the face, "No. It only went to yours. It smelled you. It wanted you, but no…it took my…my…" Spitelout's anger vanished. All that was left was a shell of a brokenhearted man.
"Dragons aren't smart enough for revenge," Aron Hofferson spoke up. "Everyone knows that. There's got to be another reason why Val-"
"Aron shut it," Odina jabbed him in the side. To everyone's shock and surprise, the Chief of Berk sat in his great chair, a wailing babe in one hand and his head in the other. His shoulders heaved and shuddered. Though no one could see his eyes, the expression in them was one of unrelenting pain.
No order had to be given for the crowd to disperse. The tension had driven everyone away to gossip and to wonder. Aron went to deal with a defeated Spitelout, but it was Odina who bravely, foolishly approached the chief.
"Stoick?" she whispered gently.
"What?" He glared at her, "What the Hel do you want? I don't need your sympathy Odina Hofferson. I already know what you think of my wife. She told me herself."
"I know," Odina bit her lip. Never one to admit defeat, she relented, "I'm sorry for what I said."
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to-" Stoick crumpled once again. Hiccup had run out of strength to scream and instead moaned in his father's arm. It was a pitiful sound.
"Stoick…when was the last time Hiccup ate?"
"I let him suck on a cloth of goat's milk before we came."
"That's not-" she sighed, "I'll feed him for you."
"No."
"He needs to eat Stoick-"
"Not from you-"
"There's no one else on Berk. Hilly and Solfrid aren't due for a while, and Lundy has her work cut out for her with Snotlout. Please Chief," she swallowed her threatening tears, "Let me do it, for her."
Stoick straightened, his glassy eyes darting between Odina and his son.
At last, he sighed.
"I need to see him. I'll give you your privacy but I can't-" his voice hitched.
"Okay," Odina answered.
"And as soon as someone else is able to, you'll be relieved of your duty."
"I understand."
With reluctant hands, Stoick passed Hiccup into Odina's awaiting arms. He fussed weakly at the transition, somewhere between asleep and awake. His eyes squinted as he looked up at her in uncertainty. Odina retreated back to her section of the hall, where a slumped Aron was watching Astrid asleep on a nest of blankets. Stoick's eyes never left her figure, even from across the hall. True to his word though, he looked away as soon as Odina held Hiccup to her breast.
The babe ate as though he was starving.
"Is it true?" she asked, stroking Hiccup's fuzzy head in comfort, "About the Stormcutter?"
"Aye," Aron said stiffly, "There were two of them, but only the male survived."
"Do you really think-?"
"I don't know Din, I doubt anyone will ever know."
Right as Valka was on the verge of fainting from thirst and hunger, the dragon woke. Despite her attempts to appear as small and as invisible as possible, the dragon locked eyes with her almost immediately. At first, it seemed confused, almost frightened by her presence…but the pupils in its yellow eyes softened. Its squashed, triangular nose twitched rapidly, taking in her scent.
As it opened its mouth, Valka prayed to all the gods for her life to end painlessly.
Instead, she felt the warm stickiness of a dragon's tongue against her face.
"Huh?"
It plopped down in front of her, legs and feet hidden beneath its body.
It waited, expectantly.
"Uh…" Valka wanted to back up, but dared not move, "Hi?"
Blink-blink, went the dragon's eyes, one at a time. It tilted its head, the spines on its face rattling with each movement. Valka tried to contain the protests of her stomach, but it unleashed a mighty growl that startled the dragon.
"Ah!" Valka cowered as the dragon began to move. Instead, the dragon marched over to the mouth of the cave and dove straight down.
Barely half a minute later, the dragon returned. Its cheeks were puffed out, and its face was wet.
Before she could ask, the dragon spat out a pile of flapping fish onto the ground in front of her.
The stench was unbelievable: fresh fish mixed with the smell of smoky dragon saliva…Valka nearly vomited, but the dragon waited expectantly once more.
"Uh…"
Oh gods…she thought with a grimace, does it want me to eat—
It nudged a fish closer to her. At least this one had stopped flapping.
"Um…" she began, but the dragon kept its large eyes fixed upon her. With trembling hands, she picked up the slimy fish. The dragon leaned in, waiting.
Oh Odin help me…
She bit into the fish with just the edge of her teeth. It was barely enough to scrape the skin off. It took all of her strength not to spit the piece out and offend the dragon. Somehow, she managed to swallow it.
"T-thanks…" she shuddered.
Satisfied, the dragon slurped up the remaining fish. The sound was nearly as sickening as the sight.
With a sigh, Valka leaned back against the rocky wall of the cavern. The dragon seemed content, for the moment at least. She pulled her braid over her shoulder and fiddled with the end.
The dragon sniffed at her hands, her hair. She had no privacy anymore.
That broke her.
Valka gulped, swallowing her rage and the tears that had sprung free.
"Why did you bring me here?" she whispered fiercely, though she knew the dragon could not understand her. It felt good to speak, felt good to let her words fly without abandon. "What do you want with me? If you're going to kill me just do it now for Odin's sake!"
She had heard legends of dragons kidnapping young maidens and holding them prisoner. It was only when the handsome, strong man arrived and the dragon was slayed that they would be set free…but those were legends. Myths. Stories told to frighten young girls into obedience, lest they be taken.
Valka whimpered: she hadn't been obedient, and she had been taken.
And the handsome, strong man…Stoick…Hiccup…
"I'm sorry," she wept into her hands, tucking her head down against her knees. "I'm so sorry Stoick, for everything. Oh gods please, please…"
The dragon warbled curiously. Valka could feel its heat against her body.
But then, something earth shattering occurred: the dragon put its head down on her lap.
"Huh?" she peaked. The head was much, much larger than her body, but it rested it with an amazing gentleness, as if it knew it could hurt her. It blinked up at her, and though Valka kept her hands clenched against her face, they twitched, her fingertips yearning for the touch of a dragon's skin—
Might kill me faster, she thought darkly. Oh well.
Smooth, warm skin met her fingerprints…skin nearly like leather, only softer.
Beneath her touch, the dragon was…purring?
"Wow," she exhaled, retracting her hand but immediately regretting it. The dragon too seemed disappointed, and leaned in for another pat. Valka sputtered out a chuckle, "Greedy aren't you?"
Speak for yourself, she chided. Twenty years of wondering, theorizing, speculating was at her fingertips. Valka obliged the dragon's request, scratching beneath its square chin. The spines along its face flexed and contracted in response…it was then that Valka noticed a spike was damaged.
"Oh, right…" she recalled Stoick's axe flying between them, and shuddered. "I'm…I'm sorry."
The dragon glanced up at her and blinked. Despite the heaviness weighing down upon her, despite the fear that plagued her, Valka managed a small smile.
She supposed, if she had to waste away in a cave, this dragon made for interesting company.
At least she wouldn't be bored as she anticipated death.