Chapter 22: Ambush

The frigid air whistled in Hiccup's ears and brought tears to his eyes, but the cold barely reached him. Plenty of thought had gone into the suit, and its newly finished form was designed to protect from all elements: padding to keep out the cold, scales to keep out the fire's heat, a slick outside to prevent rain soaking into his skin. Being thrown into a sea or struck by lightning would no doubt negate his advantages, but rare cases aside, he was a walking fortress with minimal weaknesses.

In front of him, Valka sat silently. No doubt it was a struggle for her as well, to kill Vikings every time they got too close, but her will had been tempered over the years she'd lived in the Haven. Hiccup was hesitant, but he'd decided to come along as well; the chance that he'd be able to find a middle ground between the middle parties was unlikely, but it was a chance he was willing to reach for.

They flew for a short time, far enough that the Haven was an icy blot on the horizon, but close enough to tell it was far larger than some errant chunk broken from an iceberg. As they saw the boat, Cloudjumper flew above a layer of clouds in a practiced motion. A small flock of dragons were waiting, no doubt the patrol that had alerted Valka. She reached out to the dragons, and they each clustered closer, letting her stroke their snouts in reward.

"Stay on Cloudjumper, Hiccup." Valka spoke neutrally, climbing onto a dragon with scaly plates on its back and wings. "He's more used to being ridden. We'll ambush them soon, and you'll need a safe ride." Although it was meant to reassure Hiccup, it only made him more tense―he gripped Cloudjumper with his legs just a bit tighter, stiffened his hands on the dragon's neck.

Together, they peered through thin spots in the clouds and assessed the ship: it was larger than typical Viking ships, and the crew bustling about looked like no crew Hiccup had ever seen before. Rather than the typical heavily armored and heavily armed Vikings, these men were lightly clad in thin armor, sporting bows, spears, and other lesser used weapons. Something seemed off, but Hiccup couldn't place his finger on what it was.

"Dragon Trappers." Valka spoke with an animalistic snarl. "They search for dragons to capture and enslave, caging and selling them to the highest bidder. A worthless group of criminals and outcasts with no honor or allegiance." The way she glared at the ship spoke volumes more than her words, but Hiccup was smart enough to keep his tongue behind his teeth, for once.

He stared down at the ship with his heart in his stomach, anxiously tapping his fingers on Cloudjumper's neck. Meanwhile, Valka moved from dragon to dragon, making small gestures and strange noises in her throat. It would've seemed like a strange ritual to anyone else, but Hiccup could tell that she was communicating with them; she had explained to him once that she could communicate with the dragons through some bare minimum expressions and noises.

After a few minutes, Valka had made it around to every dragon. She turned to Hiccup. "Are you going to attack with us?"

The calming breaths that Hiccup had been forcing suddenly caught in his throat. He wasn't sure how to answer. He could fight, no doubt, but was he ready to kill simply because a ship had floated a bit too close to their territory? Perhaps a year ago he would've done the same without batting an eye.

But now?

Valka's stern look wavered, then broke down for a brief moment. She growled briefly at Cloudjumper, then looked back up to Hiccup. With a thin smile, she said "Cloudjumper will come down to the ship once we've cleared the deck. There will probably be more inside, but by that point, you shouldn't have to take any action yourself. All you have to do is watch."

"Are you...are you sure?" Hiccup forced the words out, even though he regretted them as he spoke. He should go down with her, find a way to mediate the conflict. Why did it feel so difficult to breathe, all of a sudden? "I should go with you…" he trailed off.

"No, especially not if you're looking so stressed. I'll let you ease into it―not to mention that sneak attacks like this are a practiced maneuver. You'd only slow us down." The words were heavier on Hiccup's heart than he expected, but he understood. This was Valka's way of reassuring him, of taking the pressure off. "When Cloudjumper brings you down, I'll teach you the ropes. For now, just watch."

Hiccup nodded his head in assent, breath still caught in his throat. Without another word, Valka made a gesture, and she flew off with the dragons close behind her.

It was silent for a few minutes, and Hiccup stared down at the unassuming ship through the thin sections of the cloud. Pulling off his helmet, he tried to slow his erratic breathing; resuming his anxious finger-tapping on Cloudjumper's neck, he pondered why he found himself unable to attack the ship. It wasn't fear, necessarily, but found himself flashing back to the ruthless actions he had performed under Nidhogg's control. Burning houses, killing Vikings in cold blood; the scenes pierced his mind like nails.

Cloudjumper shook him out of his stupor with a grunt, and Hiccup realized just how tightly he had been holding onto the dragon.

Just as he relaxed his grip, Valka and the dragons burst from the clouds, diving towards the ship with flawless coordination.

The dragons swooping down were noticed quickly, but the Trappers' reaction was dulled by their unpreparedness. By the time most of them had gotten their weapons out, the ambush had already descended upon them. Hiccup stared down, focusing on the dragons and how they fought, rather than his mother. He'd focused on Valka at first, flying on a dragon he'd come to know as a Razorwhip, but once she jumped down to attack, Hiccup felt the stomach-wrenching unease again. It faded when he focused on the fights between the dragons and Trappers.

To Valka's credit, it was exactly as she had told Hiccup―this was not an attack made by malice or cruelty. It was quick, precise, and ruthless; it was closer to a surgical procedure than a battle. The dragons used their claws and tails to attack vital points, and paired with the ambush, the Trappers' numbers dwindled quickly. Barely five minutes had passed before Cloudjumper began gliding down to the ship.

By the time Hiccup and Cloudjumper landed, the ambush group had split into three groups. The first group of dragons were dragging dead Trappers to the side of the ship, piling them but not dumping them overboard. The second group of dragons were resting as Valka looked over their wounds. A few dead dragons laid prone on the deck, left alone for now.

The third group of dragons began slinking down into the lower levels of the ship. Hiccup heard the noises of battle under his feet, and walked towards his mother. "I'm sorry, Valka," he mumbled, "I don't know what's wrong with me―"

Valka cut him off with a stiff gesture. "It's not over yet. I'll put you to work preparing the ship to take back to the Haven. We'll need to dispose of the bodies…" She listed a few tasks for Hiccup to take care of. Before he left, she added on: "And remember, collect any weapons that the Trappers were using. They rub dragonroot extract on the edges, and that'll knock out a dragon in seconds. I have to get rid of them myself." She lifted an arrow in example, and pointed at the dragons Hiccup had thought were dead. He nodded in response, then turned to search the lower levels of the ship.

The fighting was wrapping up by the time Hiccup reached the lower sections of the ship. When he looked around, it seemed like only a handful of Trappers had remained belowdecks during the initial ambush. The Trappers were scattered around like dummies, however, and Hiccup barely spared them a second glance.

No, what drew his eye were the cages.

Steel cages were scattered and stacked around the wide lower room, each filled with a dragon or two. They were cramped and underfed, and most had piles of excrement near or in their cages. It was a disgusting sight for Hiccup, and he choked back a throatful of bile that threatened to crawl its way out. He knew that many of the dragons loyal to his mother had once been in similar situations; thankfully, Valka's dragons had begun wildly tearing at the locks, freeing their trapped brethren. Turning away, Hiccup busied himself in his work.

First, he collected the Trappers' weapons. Their weapons were laced with the dragonroot, as Valka had said, and Hiccup made extra care to pile them away to the side. Secondly, he took note of the dragons and helped them break out of their restraints. More than once did he have to shield his face from their fire and talons, and each time he regretted leaving his mask on the deck. Nevertheless, he pushed through and broke every remaining dragon out.

His third task was the most vague, but Valka had put special emphasis on it regardless: search the ship for any evidence that the Trappers had been searching for the Haven. If this ragtag group had information on the Haven, that meant others did as well. Valka hadn't told him who these Trappers worked for, but he'd recognized something sinister in her voice when she'd talked about 'caging and selling'. Anyone buying dragons would be particularly interested in the Haven, no doubt.

As the last of the dragons slunk up the stairs, Hiccup walked towards the captain's bunk: generally just a marginally larger room at the back end of the ship―but if there was any information worth keeping, it would be there. He pushed the door open and walked in leisurely.

With barely a second to react, a knife was thrust at Hiccup's face. He flung himself to the left and slammed into a crude shelf.

He turned his head to see a tall, well-built man with slicked back hair and a striking blue tattoo on his chin. Dressed similarly to the other trappers, the man was covered in furs and leather with a small broach on his chest. In the time it took Hiccup to look him over, the Trapper had swung the knife at him again.

This time, with a wall behind him, Hiccup stepped in, catching the man's arm in a lock and twisting it in a way that would force him to drop the knife. The Trapper did so, but in return sunk a heavy punch into Hiccup's torso with his other hand. Hiccup felt the punch even through his suit, and let go of the man's arm. The two of them stared fiercely at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

A confusing mix of emotions wove their way through Hiccup's mind―the anxiety that he'd felt watching the attack on the ship had returned threefold, but the relief that he was able to fight was a nearly equal comfort. As the Trapper's eyes snapped back and forth, Hiccup lifted his hands in front of him and spoke.

"I don't want to hurt you. If you surrender, you'll be perfectly safe." There was a surprising lack of tremor in his voice, even though his breath was short from both exertion and fear.

In response, the Trapper snorted, "A demon child trying to act diplomatic? That's a new one." Eyes shifting back and forth, he reached for a handaxe that laid on the shelf.

"We don't have to fight. Put down that axe and we can talk. Just―" Hiccup was suddenly cut off by a quick swing from the trapper, and he had to throw himself backwards to avoid it. Another wide swing, and Hiccup ducked underneath, throwing himself forward and driving an elbow into the man's gut. Like a tree, the man fell with Hiccup pinning him to the ground.

The man struggled, but grappling was an art that Hiccup knew far too well to be easily bested. It was less muscle, more skill and resolve. Even wearing his bulky suit, he was able to hold down the Trapper and kick the short axe away.

It was not an easy feat, however. The man twisted and spat, shifting his body with the rocking of the waves or the jerking of the wind. Despite himself, Hiccup found himself impressed with the Trapper; he was clearly more skilled than the average Viking. Deciding to attempt once more, he frowned down at the man and opened his mouth slightly, wondering how to convince him.

In the moment he let his mind wander, Hiccup lost his grip on the man's right arm; the Trapper twisted and drove his open hand into Hiccup's head with far more weight than he should've been able to muster. He stumbled to the side, ears ringing, and the man got up off the floor. The two of them stood and glared at each other again―but there was something different in both of their eyes, and they both recognized it. In the Trapper's, there was a darkness that Hiccup could almost physically see. In Hiccup's, there was the permeating fear that had seemed to chase him since he had seen the boat.

Capitalizing on his opponent's hesitation, the Trapper lunged―not at Hiccup, but at the window. In a fluid movement, he flung it open and stepped halfway through the frame before turning his head towards his still-stunned opponent. With a gritty voice that sounded like it was spoken through a buzzing swarm, he smirked, "you may have gotten a reprieve thanks to Fenrir, Hiccup, but now I've found you. Better watch your back." With that, he slid the rest of the way through the window and fell.

Hiccup didn't hear the splash of water through the ringing in his ears, but even if he had, he wouldn't have followed. His face had gone pale and his limbs weak, and he could barely keep himself from throwing up on the floor. Finally, he recognized the feeling that had been haunting him since seeing the ship. Covering his mouth with a hand, he murmured almost imperceptibly, "Nidhogg…"

Hiccup and Valka finished their cleaning of the ship and prepared to return to the Haven, but Hiccup barely said a word from then on. Bodies were disposed of, weapons were gathered, and materials were collected. Once a second group of dragons, ones with the strength to pull the boat to the haven, arrived, Hiccup and Valka flew back to their island.

"I am sorry, Hiccup." Valka spoke softly as the two of them landed. "I never expected this to take such a toll on you. Give yourself time to rest, dear. I won't force this on you again." She slipped off Cloudjumper and turned to help Hiccup down. "And get some food―you're still pale as a spirit."

Hiccup slid off the dragon and landed next to his mother. His mouth was dry, and his head felt heavy. He wanted to tell her his mistake, but barely a croak came from his throat. Instead, he simply stepped closer and wrapped her in a tight embrace; Valka was shocked still, with the first gesture of familial love since he had arrived.

He held it for a few moments, then let go and wordlessly shuffled off. He would get food, as Valka had told him to, but he had no time for rest. He had to prepare―and he couldn't waste a minute. One short pit stop later, Hiccup was at the ruined docks, stripping every ship of their valuables, even things he had previously left when scavenging the boats. Metal scraps, boards, and clothing. Anything that wasn't burned, rotted, or in terrible disrepair was collected. Now was the time to think on a much larger scale―Hiccup had to protect far more than himself.

Three months had passed since Hiccup's departure, and Toothless's growth was shocking by all accounts. Or rather, by Fenrir's accounts, who insisted that his opinion was the most important. Toothless didn't quite agree, but he knew that his growth was impressive, to say the least.

Making a connection with his patron had been slow but steady ever since the strange experience in the pool had given him a scare. He had told Fenrir about it, and had in turn been told that, once fully merged with his god's blessing, he was likely to have a weak but innate magic ability. "They're rare. I had one myself before I fully inherited this body," Fenrir had bragged, "but I never had to use it in a fight. That's just how strong I am."

After some practice, Toothless could safely begin to test his new abilities. He was able to erase his presence―so much so that he didn't even register as there with echolocation. Even when fighting, he could use it to slip out of sight and hide. It was a fickle ability, only usable in darkness or shadow, but he had hope that it would grow as the blessing continued to grow inside him.

Unfortunately, his ability was nearly useless against his mentor. The beams of lightning cut through darkness like a farmer through wheat, and even when he had the chance to disappear into the darkness, Fenrir's experience simply was too monumental to overcome. No matter how much the Night Fury trained, it seemed he was just a step behind. Cloaked in lightning, the larger dragon was a perfect counter to Toothless's newfound power.

This was not to say that Toothless's only improvement was in his god's blessing. Comparing the current Toothless to the Toothless of even one month ago would show a stark difference. His body had strengthened and his mind had toughened. Fenrir had drilled into him the basics of a fighting style for dragons, a sort of parallel to martial arts. He had learned about the gods and their blessings: how they were inherited and how they manifested.

"Most large communities have at least one major figure, right? Odds are, that figure has a blessing." Fenrir had explained to Toothless. "Sometimes it's a minor god's blessing, and sometimes the figure doesn't even realize that their strength is due to the gods. But mark my words, every large group―dragon or human―has at least one demigod."

Toothless couldn't help but feel doubtful, so he'd pressed the issue. "On Berk, the only one with strange abilities was an old seer. She wasn't a leader, and no one else on the island had anything like it. Are you telling me that the only demigod on Berk was some wizened old lady who couldn't fight to save her life?"

"Brother, do you ever listen?" Fenrir had sighed, "At least one, meaning there can be multiple in the same community. It is rather rare, but for large communities, two or three demigods is nothing too surprising. Factoring in even the most minor blessings, there are more demigods than you might expect." he paused, then mentioned offhandedly. "For instance, where the boy is training, there are three different demigods. Well four, I suppose." He'd muttered as an afterthought.

"And Hiccup? Will he get a blessing?"

Fenrir had gone silent for a moment, then answered, "That's not an answer I can give. I saw the potential for a blessing, but he failed my trial. He may never have the chance again, and if he does, it'll be as difficult―if not more."

Toothless had scowled, but he'd understood that Fenrir wouldn't have lied to him.

He kept training. If Hiccup couldn't receive a blessing, then it would be Toothless's turn to be the protector.

It had been six months since Hiccup had last seen Toothless, and like his scaly counterpart, he was nearly unrecognizable. In Hiccup's case, however, it was not all a positive change.

In the months since the ambush, he'd spent months tinkering, building both large and small. He built gating structures on the beaches with wood from the boats, and he built small traps with the excess metal. If Nidhogg could control others, maybe even multiple people at once, what stopped him from swarming the Haven with armies of his enslaved minions?

Hiccup was building maniacally, to say the least.

Sleep was no longer a thing of rest for him, however. Since his encounter with Nidhogg, Hiccup had been plagued with nightmares that left him panic-stricken and shaking. He took care to avoid the oppressive feeling near the Bewilderbeast, as it reminded him too much of Nidhogg's overbearing presence. Recalling any memories linked to the god caused Hiccup to fly into a panicked state, and he kept a torch or candle lit around him at all times. High-strung and jumping at every shadow, Hiccup felt like he was slowly descending into madness.

Valka, on the other hand, was openly suspicious. While she didn't seem to know about Hiccup's nightmarish episodes or his mishap fighting the Trapper, she could tell that he was deteriorating. She found herself fighting back more Trapper ships than usual, and combined with the structures her son was building on the shores, it was clear that something was amiss. She tried confronting him, but her questions were often deflected or answered with half-truths. Eventually, Hiccup began secluding himself away so well that his mother had trouble locating him, despite her many years becoming familiar with the land.

Not all of Hiccup's endeavors were driven by his fear of invasion, however. For one, he improved his prosthetics past their previous, refined forms. Now, they were crammed with new gadgets he had invented; like a compact crossbow, a reel-in hook, and small packets full of easily flammable materials. While still sleek, his arm and leg were far more lethal than they had been before.

He had also finished the weapon forged from the strange chains: a hammer, not unlike the ones that his father used. In a moment of spiteful pique, he'd named it Mjolnir, fully aware of the blasphemy. It was a beautifully carved piece of work; even Gobber would've been impressed. In this new form, Hiccup was working to probe the magic that it contained―both the inherent and the acquired. While he was making nearly no headway with the magic it had previously contained, the magic binding him to the hammer seemed to grow stronger as he inspected it.

No matter what he did, he felt underprepared. All he could do was train, build, and grow stronger. He hoped it would be enough, but he doubted it ever would be.

No new mythology this chapter.

The fact that quarantine has lasted longer than the time it takes for me to put out two chapters means it's been long enough. That being said, everyone, stay safe. Whether you're quarantining, protesting for BLM, or anything else, stay safe. Anyway, let me know what you thought about this chapter, thanks for reading!