Author's Notes
This chapter is less early than usual (phrased that way because I post whenever it's ready each Saturday, which was originally Saturday night) due to some... complications with chapter 71. More on that next week.
One consequence is that this chapter is significantly longer than it was originally. Enjoy!
Wreathed in warm darkness, smooth scales soft and firm, gripping claws and biting teeth all sharp in the best ways, scorching hot breath within an embrace of wings…
But it was not a perfect fantasy. Dreamer's eyes cracked open, the warm phantom of his dream evaporating with the sight of naught but his bed of charcoal that he was curled up on. It smelled solely of males, a sharp, unyielding scent that did not appeal to him, even as much as it was his own. His and Wanderer's, which were as near enough to identical that it didn't smell bad, just musky, as if he hadn't cleaned in a long time.
Wanderer was huddled up against his back, paws twitching against him and tail curled around to lie across his flanks. He was probably having a very similar dream… Hrrr, perhaps that was why he liked to lie in…
Dreamer sighed and grudgingly pulled himself from the warm embrace, then thoroughly stretched out his body, gripping the rock with his claws as he arched his back in both directions. After yawning mightily, he settled his wings against his sides and padded out of the den.
The morning was still young, shortly before dawn, but there was little point in trying to sleep any more. That would only lead to more dreaming and disappointment, a vicious circle of restlessness. Better to just start the day with a dip in the cold water for some fish.
It had been a long time since he had felt disparity between his mind and body, struggling to find that balance between the Viking and the dragon, but this was a time that was naturally confusing so he supposed his unusual circumstances were more aggravating the issue than being the actual cause in this case. His formless, senseless dreams were pleasant, even if they left him with a sense of loss and longing afterwards, but in reality the thought still wasn't appealing. He still didn't know what he wanted…
After immersing himself in the freezing water outside the nest in the process of obtaining a pair of fish for himself, he felt more himself again, less distracted. That fire still smouldered away in the background, but with none of its usual intensity. He felt more awake too, even if he'd still much rather be lying in…
He noticed Cloudjumper and Dam flying away from the nest, and stared in fascination as those four enormous wings all beat a captivating rhythm before neatly fitting together to glide on. Figuring they were out for their morning meal, he drifted over, staying out of sight just within the clouds above, to surprise them.
But they didn't stop, just kept flying off to the east. By the time he realised they weren't going fishing, they were already far from the nest, and he was clearly following. But he was curious where she went on these days, when she flew out at dawn and returned at dusk.
With careful, silent wingbeats, he caught up and drifted down directly on top of them, wondering what he should do to surprise her. Steal her mask? Try to pluck her off Cloudjumper's back? The question turned out to be irrelevant because she happened to look up to be treated to his gummy smile.
She didn't jump or anything, to his surprise – perhaps she was used to dragons creeping up on her – but she did look wary, and made a small gesture back to the nest; she didn't want him to come, but she wasn't going to stop him, as if that was something she could do anyway. He chuffed and settled into formation next to Cloudjumper, who spared him a mildly interested glance. "Where you going?" Dreamer asked him.
"Long-Paw nest," he rumbled back.
Wrrr, Dam had spoken of the odd conversation and rumour, but Dreamer had somehow never linked that to her actually going to a Long-Paw nest. Of course she must, it wasn't as if she got any human visitors. "Why? She look wary, not want me come."
Cloudjumper huffed, shaking himself so that Dam staggered on his back and needed to clutch at one of his tall spines. "Some danger. You should see." He then weathered the staff bopping him on the head with a weary indifference.
Dreamer chuckled and pulled up over him to swat at his dam, then darted away from the hooked staff swinging at him and fell into formation on the other side with a smug grin. She pouted at him – he could tell even through her mask – and dropped down to cross her legs and arms.
They flew swiftly, towards the sky-fire as it slowly crept into the sky, and into somewhat warmer winds. He exchanged some encouraging body language with his dam as they crossed the sea, something to break the monotony without distracting from their path. Dreamer again tried to find the seam between Cloudjumper's wings when they fit together, but for all the world he just looked like a regular two-winged dragon with some weird shoulders if someone glanced from below. Also of interest was his tail, which seemed to function similarly to a Nightstriker's, but with a vertical fin too – perhaps that was instead of fins on his back…
Around mid-morning, a landmass came into view ahead, one that quickly had Dreamer on edge. Part of his unease was the size of the settlement sprawled over one side, far larger than all the villages of the Archipelago put together. But more concerning was the thick black smoke rising from parts of it, and also the fleet of dark ships surrounding it. Most concerning of all were the faint specks flying around above.
This was, he surmised, a raid. He hoped the dozens of dark shapes overhead were not dragons, even if that for all the world they couldn't be anything else. When one of them dove and a flash of light streaked the short distance to the ground, a snarl tore itself through his teeth, startling his flight companions.
He was beginning to empathise with Dam's intense dislike of humans. These dragons likely had no investment in whatever war was going on, but they were being forced to fight anyway, and he doubted they were treated very well in the interim. Were they allowed to fly, to fish and hunt for themselves, to eat their fill? Could they court prospective mates for the next cold-season? Were their wounds and ailments properly treated? Could they leave?
He wasn't going to assume, but everything in his experience suggested that they would just be thrown into cages and occasionally fed and allowed exercise. Even still, what kept them here, stopped them from just flying away? He stole a glance across at Dam, but her angry and grim posture was not reassuring.
She directed Cloudjumper, and Dreamer followed, far to the south of the settlement. The landmass was huge, curving around into the distance, and he could not see the other side even as they passed over the shore. He had heard that one could travel far enough south that there was land as far as the eye could see in all directions – was there an eastern land as well?
Clinging close to the canopy, they approached the settlement, what had to be a 'city' as in some of Johann's far-fetched tales. Even aside from the smoke he could smell it long before they dropped into a clearing near the edge of the forest, and quickly closed his nose to the rank mix of everything vile about humans with a lot of metalworking and some horribly sharp and acrid scents weaving through it. Ugh, he could taste it too.
"I've told you about Drago," Dam said as she slid from Cloudjumper to land in the leaf litter, and Dreamer nodded; a power-hungry warlord who seemed to be amassing dragons and ships to march his way across land and sea, conquering everything in his path. "I heard talk that this place was his next target, and the governor refused to submit." Dreamer nodded in understanding, assuming a governor was something like a Chief. She took her mask off, fixing him with the sternest look he had ever seen. "We just here to watch, nothing more."
But… the dragons… Dreamer warbled sad, unhappy, glancing at the sky.
"No!" she barked, and his ears swept back of their own accord. "If Drago here, we watch only." He grumbled wordlessly while she adjusted her armguards. "I don't really want you here," she admitted, looking at him again with wide, fearful eyes. "But you should know Drago. See what he do. Please, please be careful… I only allow this because you can fly fast. Not try to save me or do anything."
"You not could stop me," he huffed. "But I be careful."
She stepped forward to embrace him, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you." He nuzzled her back with a deep purr, hooking his neck around her. "Be safe," she said to Cloudjumper, who chuffed back and walked to a nearby tree to settle under.
Of course, the big dragon wouldn't be coming; he was enormous and not exactly suited for running or stealth. Dreamer chuffed to his dam and gestured to his back, and she hopped on. He didn't make a habit of sharing his back with her, or anyone really, but it had happened enough that he had a handle on her meagre weight as he loped through the trees.
The horrible smell only got worse, repeatedly convincing him the city must be just around the next corner in the twisting, winding path of scraggly foliage, but they had landed well out of sight. They also passed many people hiding in the trees, frightened families huddling off the path or forging their way through, but he avoided them with ease and any who did notice him were probably just hoping he hadn't noticed them.
Finally, the forest abruptly opened out into a short field, which he crossed in a matter of heartbeats to take a breather in the shadow of the first structure, a curious building of paw-sized stones held together with a crumbling white substance. Stronger than wood, perhaps, but he eyed another building up ahead that'd half collapsed after a hole had been blown in the side.
"Look like it already over," Dam said quietly in his ear, and he wondered how many such raids she had witnessed to know that with such a limited perspective. "See how close you can get to centre."
He chuffed quietly and sprinted to the next building, and the next. The paths here were deserted, but the distant shouts and screams had him on edge. What kind of raid was it that there was still fighting after it was over? He didn't like this at all.
When the buildings suddenly clumped together in long rows, he took one look at the filthy path between them and instead clambered up the nearest wall, onto the roof. He hadn't seen any dragons in the sky since he'd emerged from the forest, and now with a better view of the sky, he could see they had all apparently landed somewhere.
The wooden roofs were a little more difficult to navigate, as he didn't trust the thin slats to support him, but the thick prominent beams holding it all up made an easy enough path across it all, and he soon settled into a rhythm, occasionally jumping or flying over the odd burned-out hole and winding around the odd stone protrusions scattered around. He made turns as Dam subtly leaned to guide him, and before long they came across people, and fighting.
If it could be called fighting. 'Armed corralling' was perhaps a better description, burly men with dark armour and weapons dragging families out of buildings to march them deeper into the city, often backed by armoured dragons. Bodies were everywhere, men of all ages, even those who could barely be called as such, lying in the muck, staring sightlessly as their homes were torn apart. Among the carnage, there wasn't a single armoured corpse to be seen.
Dam guided him in the direction everyone was being marched, though he had long since lost track of where the centre would be. If he glanced back he could just about see the forest, or at least he thought he could, but in front and either side was just a sea of rooftops. He couldn't fathom how these people lived like this, perpetually crammed together in this horrible stench. It didn't look as if most of them could fight either, many of the bodies were sporting weapons that looked to be nothing more than kitchen knives. He happened to glance in the direction of some shouting in time to see a young man flailing what looked like a rusty hunting knife simply get stabbed with no effort at all. Dreamer himself had been a better fighter than that.
"There," Dam murmured to him while pointing over his head to a large gap in the buildings, "stay low."
He scanned his options, and spotted a clump of the strange stone protrusions right at the edge of the rooftops that would give a nice view while offering some cover. If anyone noticed him leaping across the paths to get to it, they didn't think twice about another dragon, his brief silhouette against the sky not enough to identify him as a Nightstriker.
Dam slipped from his back and scampered up to the stone things on all fours to crouch against them and peek through to the open space beyond. The narrow gaps were too small for Dreamer though, so he held his head flat to the roof beside it, trusting his dark scales to obscure him, and got comfortable while he looked down over the courtyard; it was so immense, the chances that anyone would inspect this particular section of roof closely enough to see him were next to nothing.
Wooden debris was piled up around the surrounding buildings, some of which had been set aflame, and colourful fruits were scattered about the rocky ground. More armoured dragons sniffed around the ground and the debris, a pawful fighting over an unrecognisable carcass near the middle, and a large pedestal beside them was having three posts roughly fitted to it, standing upright through holes being hacked in its floor. From around the edges of the immense space, people were herded in, massive crowds of them seemingly without end. Dreamer had never seen so many people in his entire life, there had to be thousands of them already, and they were still coming, carrying with them an air of fear and uncertainty, many clutching children and huddling to their families.
"Demonstration," Dam murmured, and he had to consciously hold his ears down. "Drago makes example of places that resist. I not know what he will do…"
That made Dreamer even more uneasy. Was the demonstration for these people… or for whoever found what was left of them?
Time passed agonisingly slowly, time in which tension clawed its way through Dreamer while he tried to figure out what was going on. He could only imagine what it was like for the people down there, being forced at swordpoint into the courtyard with likely just as much clue as he had. Long-Paws, he snarled to himself, starting to feel nauseous. Children were crying, many of the parents were sobbing too, an unfathomable number of people all crammed in together and slowly, unwillingly, forced towards the centre, where the bulky dragons were now lying obediently around the stage. He'd been looking for something to distract him from his body's urges, and by Thor was this doing the job, but compared to this he'd much rather be curled up on some not-too-cold moss trying not to think too hard about females.
Finally, as the sun reached its zenith, a noticeable shift in the throngs of people signalled the start of whatever was going to happen. A tremor ran through the crowd from the west, to Dreamer's left, everyone squashing even closer together to make a path. That they did so well ahead of the figures that eventually emerged spoke of its gravity.
First came two big dragons, one a Rumblehorn like Krogan's but the other one something Dreamer didn't recognise. Their armour was dark but polished, and had horns and sharp angles in addition to the dragons' own, giving them an impression of status. They waved their heads aggressively, explaining why everyone was so quick to get out of their way.
Behind them, a man with somewhat dark skin and long, jet-black hair strode into the courtyard, a man who had to be Drago. He walked with an unwavering confidence, and something about his slow gait just screamed 'danger' that even the people around him seemed aware of. He was far away, but Dreamer's keen eyes picked out enough detail to suspect the black cloak draped around him was dragonskin, and he held a long metal spear with a nasty hook near the end.
"That him," Dam whispered unnecessarily, and Dreamer gulped; if he had been wondering who might be a worse opponent to replace Viggo as leader of the hunters, this man fit the boot several times over.
Following Drago was another dragon, showing clear deference with how it bowed even as it awkwardly slinked forward… and attached to it was a rope dragging a man by a bar attached to his legs that prevented him from even rolling onto his back, his front and face dragging across the rough ground. The elegant, if a bit frayed, woman tied to him, and a young man tied to her, were at least able to walk on their own, but they looked terrified.
Dreamer snarled again, his claws sinking into the grain of the wood beneath him. This was inhumane, cruel beyond words, and this was before this 'demonstration' had even started.
"We can go," Dam said quietly, but Dreamer flicked a wing and otherwise didn't move. Drago was a new type of enemy, maybe something like what Krogan had tried to be, but much, much worse, and Dreamer had to know what was going to happen. He didn't want to know, and he knew he would regret knowing once he did, but not knowing would haunt him forever.
The procession made its way to the platform – three prisoners, three posts. He just knew he was going to regret this…
Drago walked up the stairs to the side and stood at the edge, staring grimly out over the crowd while some of his men started roughly handling the people he'd dragged up with him. "Silence," he commanded, his dry, raspy voice cutting through the fearful murmuring and leaving behind an eerie quiet. He didn't even look pleased at that, just spared the crowd a disdainful look before turning to the three people, now tied with their hands behind their backs around the posts. The man, a balding, overweight man with expensive-looking clothes hanging off him in bloody shreds, sagged against his restraints, only supported by the post. "You did not bow," Drago growled, deliberately waving his hooked spear. "Suffer the consequences."
Dreamer's breath caught as Drago stabbed the man, a quick thrust of the spear piercing his midsection. The governor, for that was who this must be, moaned, as if that was all he had the energy to do, and writhed feebly against his restraints. That slow, painful death was not what any proud tribe leader should be granted for standing up to an opponent!
Drago then moved on to the women, and Dreamer was suddenly frozen in abject horror. She was clearly not a combatant, probably had little to nothing to do with any of this, and was frightened out of her mind, shaking her head and saying something over and over that was lost to the distance while fitfully glancing at the blade slowly angling towards her.
But the boy's expression, somewhere beyond absolute terror and nearing vacant delirium, snapped something inside Dreamer.
The Viking way of life was hard. Everyone fought everything, and everyone else to boot. It made them strong, courageous enough to face death head-on with glee.
These people were not Vikings. They did not fight, but they were being dragged into one anyway. And instead of being given a quick death, Drago's hooked spear was poised for another agonisingly slow kill. For what, just so the governor could listen to their screams while he died!?
No
Dreamer's fireball streaked ahead of him as he leaped from the rooftop, and Drago staggered with the concussive shot as it struck his back. "Dreamer!" Dam gasped as he left her there, but he just couldn't stand and watch while this happened; that went against everything he believed in, against his very nature!
He crossed the distance in heartbeats, wings flaring and claws scraping the worn wood as he landed heavily on the platform, just as Drago found his balance again. Dreamer ignored him for the moment, discouraging a pawful of armed men from climbing up with a concussive shot that might have deafened at least one of them, then quickly clawed at the ropes wrapped around the boy's wrists and the pole he was trapped against. Thankfully, it had been tied with speed in mind, and it slipped off his wrists to allow him to scramble back and huddle at the edge of the platform; he looked absolutely terrified, but it was the much more reasonable terror of the angry black slit-eyed dragon with sharp teeth and claws, rather than certainty of a slow and painful death.
"Stop!" Drago roared, and the dragons Dreamer was preparing to face down all shrank back and retreated, leaving him with Drago and the three prisoners on the platform. "Night Fury," Drago growled, soulless eyes in that heavily scarred face fixed on him with a terrifying glee.
Dreamer snarled at him, unable to take a shot with how close he was to the governor's wife, but at least arrogance had significantly reduced the number of Long-Paws and dragons he'd need to fight.
Drago glanced at the boy, the woman, then back to Dreamer with a calm, level look, reaching across to the woman with that hooked spear. Dreamer snarled at him, his shrieking fire adding a chilling background to the warning, but was given pause when Drago jerked the spear and the ropes fell loose. The woman immediately cried out and scrambled over to her son – it did not escape Dreamer's notice that neither seemed particularly concerned about the governor himself, who was still fading, soon to be out of his misery either way. They quickly made their way off the platform, and were not stopped from disappearing into the crowd.
That left nothing protecting Drago, who took a menacing step forward. Dreamer didn't hesitate in firing directly at him with full power and an intent to kill, the man leaning into the shot without a shred of emotion before disappearing in a cloud of fire and thick smoke.
Thump
Dreamer reeled back as Drago just kept striding forward, now wreathed in swirling smoke and still staring with that flat, domineering expression. Thump, he took another step, and as his cloak resettled Dreamer glimpsed the wicked gauntlet under it, gleaming metal tapering to sharp tips at the fingers. Drago growled at him, and Dreamer responded by baring his teeth and-
The shot went wide as the spear slapped him in the side of the head, hissing over the heads of the crowd, and Drago's next heavy step was onto his shoulder with the hook of the spear pulling up against his throat.
Dreamer stared ahead, frozen in his aggressive crouch, pinned between the boot on his back and the blade at his throat, head still ringing from the strike. "Submit," Drago rasped.
He had never stood a chance. His tense breaths hissed through his bared teeth. Even despite his terror, the knowledge of how grieved Wanderer and Dam would be if he was captured or killed here, his mind raced through his options. A short tug would end him. Going along was the best course of action. There was nothing else he could do.
And yet… somehow, he knew that if he gave in here, he might as well be forfeiting his life. Alvin had nearly broken Wanderer, albeit as a fledgling, but what could be done by a man who could subjugate a Nightstriker without using one of his arms!?
His head slowly tipped forward. He had to.
But he couldn't. This is going to hurt…
As quickly as he had ever managed, he fired straight at the wooden floor in front of his face, blowing a wide hole in it and weathering the force of the blast. By some prophetic intuition he knew exactly which way Drago was going to fall even if it was illogical, and the spear immediately stabbed down into the wood and away from his throat.
Without that deadly blade posed to kill, he further toppled Drago as he spun and leaped off the platform, over the heads of the dragons that then bellowed and spread their wings to give chase. But he was a Nightstriker, and the near-death experience lent him a haste and speed previously unknown to him as he dashed back up to the rooftops.
Dam quickly got to her feet and started sprinting away from him, deftly balancing along the centre beam of the roof as she ran, and held up her staff as he neared, which he took in his teeth to let her clamber up onto his back.
"You idiot!" she shrieked at him as the rooftops streaked by beneath, and the distant roars of dragons faded behind them. "How! Could you be! So stupid!" she then yelled, punctuating her words by slamming her fist into his head.
She actually had quite the arm, and he found himself hastily recovering from a slight drop, then turned his head to growl at her. He couldn't see her through her mask, but he could hear her sobbing, and then she clutched him and pressed her face into his neck with terrified, relieved whimpers.
With a huff, he just set his eyes to the forest, then roared for Cloudjumper to follow – they were already quite a distance from the optimistic pursuit, and their cover was blown anyway. The big dragon emerged from the forest ahead, wings lifting him steadily into the air and out towards the sea, then fell into formation as they angled around. He looked at Dam, then to Dreamer with a questioning warble.
Dreamer replied with a chuff of confidence, weary, understanding, and Cloudjumper rumbled confusion, acceptance, as they levelled their noses to the wind in preparation for the long flight back.
The afternoon passed in silence, Dreamer finding himself unhindered by the weight of his dam on his back as the wind whistled over him. She blocked and disrupted the air blowing down the fins on his back, but that wasn't even remarkable when flying in a straight line as they were.
"I lost you once," Dam murmured into his ear, so quietly he would not have even been sure she had spoken had she not shuffled up first. "Please… never do that again…"
Dreamer huffed. "I not could watch. Not while he did that. They not deserve that." He didn't bother turning to look at her, the only thing to see was either her mask or her wind-blown face.
"What humans do is not our concern," she growled angrily. "We protect our own."
That struck Dreamer in a way he hadn't been expecting, a blow to the head and heart both. He turned his head to glare at her, teeth bared. "Like you protect me?"
She reeled back, body conveying shock, outrage, regret, even while her mask hid her face, but he wasn't done; she had really irked him with that. "You say protect what yours," he snarled, "but you out here protecting these dragons. They not yours. I was yours! I know you not could come back, but you not can tell me that! Not when you not were there for me, not when you do that yourself!"
He snorted and levelled his head again, ignoring Cloudjumper's querying gaze, and spotted the nest in the distance. Good, he needed a break from her. Hopefully she had got all this clinginess out of her system from the flight back because it might take a few days for things to level out between them enough that he would want her company again; as much as he was enjoying getting to know her, it was only making up for lost time, he didn't feel a need for her to be in his life.
For that matter, he still hadn't broached the subject of his sire with her. He had told her Berk was now friendly with dragons, and she hadn't gone rushing back to her own. He almost turned to snarl that at her too, but she chose that moment to leap from his back for Cloudjumper to catch her staff on one of his horns and swing her up onto his back. Huff. Fine, whatever. He gave a few hard downstrokes to pull just a little way ahead, taking the lead. It was petulant and immature but he didn't care, he'd saved two innocent people and she had the gall to tell him to never do it again when it was all she had ever done herself.
He wanted to fly ahead and completely leave her behind, but he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. What time he hadn't spent flying had been racing through a city and then waiting in utter dread before engaging… a number of soldiers and dragons to face down Drago. It had been a very long day, and he was going to bathe in Alpha's pool to clean himself off and renew the nest's scents on him and then hope Wanderer would give him a nice relaxing groom…
He couldn't reach the nest fast enough, and didn't care that the closest entrance was the one his dam would take to get back to her den. He dropped down onto the icy ledge, staggered as his legs almost gave out under him, then trotted with grin determination through the caves. Wanderer wasn't in their den, so he was probably in the main cavern… or out flying, but he hoped not, he needed to relax. He emerged out into the main cavern, a roar of returning in his throat-
That roar was released as a confused, strangled gurgle as he spotted Gobber of all people standing on the ledge, staring out at the throngs of dragons and scratching his head. A dragon that looked like someone had deflated a Gronckle slept soundly by his side, which might have been circumstantial if not for the saddle on its back.
At the sound, Gobber turned around and beamed at him. "Ah, Toothy! Or ah yeh 'Iccup? Ah cannae ever remember. Or tell yeh apart. One o' you two should wear a bell or summin. Or maybe both o' ya, so yeh cannae sneak up on a man. Anyway, Chief'll be deligh'ed, 'e's been worried yeh go' in'ta trouble or summin."
Dreamer's mouth fell open. Today? Now!?
He spun and darted back through the tunnels with absolutely no idea what he was going to find; he had two extremes in mind, one fuelled by his own hormones and the other from the nightmare he had suffered just hours before, and only a vague, blurry idea that there was probably something more likely in between.
He rounded the last corner in time to see his dam storm into her den, and he inadvertently cut Cloudjumper off as he raced around to get in behind her – in time to see his sire, sword in one hand and a small tunic in the other, drop both to the floor.
They stared at each other. Dreamer stared at them.
"Where'd yeh run off to?" Gobber's voice echoed through the cave. "Bells, ah tell ya! No even 'ard ter make. Ah'm sure yeh'd look dashing in 'em, too. They can be different colours so we can tell yeh apart! An' who don' like a good jinglin'-"
He finally rounded the corner to find Dreamer and his sire and dam all staring dumbly at each other.
"Oh… Ah'll jes'... Er… go check Grump has nae got in'ta trouble…"
"Stoick?" Dam whispered, clutching her staff in one hand and her mask in the other.
Sire blinked and gasped, as if dunked in cold water. He then slowly took off his helmet and stared at it disbelievingly, trying to look up but not able to get further than the floor between them.
"Can… Can it be?" Dam asked quietly, approaching slowly, but he couldn't meet her gaze. "I remember this," she said as she reached him, carelessly dropping her mask to the floor to gently touch the helmet. Sire just squeezed his eyes shut, a wide tear running down his face. Dam didn't seem to know how to take it, and took a shaky step back. "I… You know I not could return," she said, her voice wavering with a tint of desperation. "I pleaded so long for stop fighting, but did anybody listen? It broke my heart to stay away, but I believed it best… And I know I left you to raise Hiccup alone, and-"
"I'm sorry," Sire sobbed, tears running into his moustache.
"-I'm… You're… What?"
Dreamer became aware he was holding his breath, and quietly forced himself to exhale. Was this really happening?
"I failed," Sire whispered, his voice breaking. "I failed as a father. I… He's…" He gasped, clutching the helmet in his hands.
"Put this on," Dam whispered gently, touching her fingertips to the rim of the helmet to lift it. Sire finally looked up at her, mouth open and brow furrowed in confusion, but he slowly lifted it back onto his head. "...So I can beat the stupid out of you," she growled, and Dreamer gaped and flinched at once as she spun her staff and brought it down hard on his freshly helmeted head.
He grunted, and then again as she whacked him again, and at the third strike he lifted his arms to defend himself – she spun the weapon and drove the other end into his gut, and he doubled over with a wheeze while she went back to rapping the staff loudly on the helmet.
She only stopped when Dreamer whimpered, pawing at his ears at the head-wracking noise. "Sorry," she mumbled curtly to him, then turned back to her husband. "Would he want you spend rest of your life moping about it?" she demanded, waving her staff again.
"He has every right to," Sire grumbled, rubbing his head.
"That not what I asked."
He held his breath for several long moments. Then he sighed, slumping as if a great weight had been relieved from his shoulders. "You're right," he said quietly, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "Oh Valka… How do you do this to me?"
"Gothi gave me some good advice," she replied, her quiet voice laced with amusement. "Best way to deal with men is with big stick." All three of them chuckled weakly at that.
Dreamer watched hopefully while the two of them slowly drifted together, gently touching each other's arms…
Dam sighed and withdrew a little, her eyes lowering. "I suppose you've moved on. You had every woman pining over you… I did need fight Bagnut off with a stick, once. I not can be just another wife, I sorry…"
"Oh, Valka," he whispered, touching her chin and lifting her head. "I've never wanted anyone else."
Dreamer's heart leapt as they kissed, so very tender and gentle… and kept kissing. He fidgeted, starting to become uncomfortable. Would it be weird if he left now? Oh, they were getting more aggressive, pulling each other close.
Wait… They weren't going to… No, not right here in front of him. Sire-... didn't know who he was, other than just a dragon. Well, Dam-... had been living among shameless dragons for over twenty years.
…
He scrambled to his paws, ignoring his aching body, and bolted out into the caves, past a very confused Cloudjumper, and past Gobber sitting on the edge of the rock in the main chamber to hurtle down to Alpha's empty lake, landing with a spray of water in the shallows. Great, now he needed to find somewhere else to sleep, to give them their-
A memory tugged at his mind, Dam asking how much privacy he and Wanderer needed, and he sank into the water with a pained groan. Had she seriously asked him that? And it had totally gone over his head, naïve as he was. Just fantastic. He needed to find Wanderer for some comfort and relaxation…
But not too much. He groaned again, watching the bubbles rise from his snout. Stupid body…
Wanderer roused to a twitching under his paws, sharp and heavy breaths against his chest, a quiet whimper. He pulled his Dreamer close, purring comfort, safety, and nuzzling the back of his head, and the nightmare gradually subsided.
He knew what had the other Nightstriker wound up like this, there were no secrets between them. What he had done last light had been stupid and reckless, but just so very Dreamer that Wanderer would have been worried if he'd not rushed down to help. He just wished he'd been there with him, there was no way this bad Long-Paw could fight off two Nightstrikers… even if another had done exactly that in the past. But they were getting even bigger, stronger now, maybe even Dagur would not survive against them in their prime.
Dreamer drowsily purred gratitude, safe, and shuffled right up against him, paws curled against his chest, and was quickly breathing with the steady rhythm of sleep once again. Wanderer dozed off with him, but deep sleep eluded him for some reason. Perhaps because he was worried. Dreamer was an immensely strong person to see something so horrific, to then risk himself in an effort to help, suffer through a traumatic experience, and still be able to smile after. Their new lives had not been good to them, except for that they had each other, and sometimes it showed in what they were able to survive.
But such things still left their marks, wounds that stung and bled during sleep. A feeling of utter helplessness was something Wanderer was familiar with himself, and at times he still dreamt that he was back in that rock-hole, insidious claws in his mind forcing him to do the bidding of the queen or the greedy Long-Paw or both. But those did not happen often, and were slowly becoming less terrifying. He savoured the memory of flinging that terrible monster out into the open sky, of firing his first shot in this new body to make him disappear. Of blasting apart the other monster's wings, then firing down her throat as she fell. He was strong, even if he sometimes needed to remind himself.
He blinked himself awake as the sky-fire presumably kindled, the sounds of the other nest-kin beginning to echo down the caves. For once, the urges of his body were not strong enough to bother acting on, so he saw no reason to persist in this restless dozing until Dreamer left. So, shortly after, when he felt a tiny questioning nudge against his chest, he stretched and yawned widely, gripping Dreamer's back with his claws to the other Nightstriker's groaned approval.
In short order they were up and following the scent of fish through the caves, to Skyreaching's den, where they found the three Long-Paws sitting in silence. The greasy, fatty Long-Paw lay against his lazy wing-hunter, while Cloudjumper and Dreamer's sire's companion took up watchful places by the walls, pointedly ignoring each other. The normally spacious den was feeling a little cramped, but nice and warm with all these bodies in it.
Dreamer bounded over to a hollow-thing and shoved his head in it, immediately tossing back a fish while Wanderer's curious nose found its way to the bounty inside. He managed to grab one himself and toss it back, though Dreamer apparently found this too slow and just tipped it over, spilling the fish onto the floor from where they were greedily snatched up.
"Hiccup, Toothy!" Dreamer's sire admonished, but Wanderer ignored him; he wasn't alpha.
"Let them eat," Skyreaching hummed with a blazing warmth to her voice.
After he'd eaten his fill of the light meal, Wanderer watched her curiously. He recognised the slightly glazed expression, the flowing, happy way in which she moved, though it was surprising to see it so strongly in a Long-Paw.
He looked to Cloudjumper, to convey his happiness for the big Four-Wing's Long-Paw finding a mate, but Cloudjumper was giving him a stern, disapproving look.
…Was that about the food? "We catch more," he offered, and Cloudjumper grunted and settled down to watch the room as he often did.
Cloudjumper was disappointed with him… Wanderer crooned sadly and lay his head on his paws. It was almost like Sire himself was proud, when he impressed Cloudjumper, because Sire and Cloudjumper had been friends, but it also felt as if Sire was disappointed when Cloudjumper disapproved. It felt like all he had left of his family.
He wanted his family to know him now, to see how he had grown… even if he had not grown physically as much as they would expect. This would be a time to go back to them, if he knew where to go, or had they still been alive, to introduce Dreamer, to tell them all he had done. So he could empathise with Dreamer's deep purring as he watched his own sire and dam, together again after so long apart.
Dreamer's sire let out an odd noise, a piercing and somewhat uncomfortable high-pitched sound that Long-Paws made on occasion. But Dreamer's ears were up, and he had a wistful, hopeful look on his face that said he'd forgotten the nightmares of the last sky-fire-cycle, both waking and not. When Skyreaching joined in, and they began to say words in tones that matched and flowed from each other's, and Dreamer bounced off his paws in time with their stomping around, Wanderer let out a quiet purr.
They were mates again, well and truly, and he was happy for them. Less happy for Gobber's awful braying that vibrated through his head, but when that stopped, all was once again as it should be.
Dreamer had found his family. Wanderer would not find his own, but while he was sad, he was also determined. One night, he would have his own family, his own little hatchling to look after. And he and Dreamer would be strong enough to ensure they never suffered what he had, even if he had to take on the whole world to do it.
But for now, this was where he was supposed to be, what he had been searching for all that time, and he had found his Dreamer along the way. For now, this was all he wanted.
This couldn't be real. The last day had to be a dream, one Stoick hoped he would never wake from. This had to be Hel, a frozen wasteland where he and his wife had been sent for losing their fighting spirits. That didn't explain Gobber being here though… Valhalla? This didn't feel like a perpetual cycle of feasting and fighting. These frozen waters were harsh, but as he sat near the top of the jagged ice nest with his wife and their dragons, staring down at the distant behemoth rolling through the water while the Night Furies flitted about him in the light of the setting sun, he did feel at peace.
Admittedly, this Bewilderbeast, as Valka called it, concerned him. He understood now why the dragons had plagued his village for so long, that it was the doing of another such titan. And yet, he heard his wife detail her exploits of how she, with the help of her dragon and sometimes the 'alpha', culled back the hunters, and he couldn't help but see it from their perspective. Those 'trappers' might just be trying to protect their homes, keep their families fed, and she was making them out to be these evil bloodthirsty draugrs hel bent on torturing dragons for no reason. He knew how violent and territorial dragons could get, even after the war had ended, and this had the feel of two tribes butting heads over grudges that neither of them truly understood.
But he kept it to himself. Right now, he felt at peace, and it felt good. Valhalla might be an escape from peace, but he long suspected the Table of Kings was set aside partially for the purpose of acknowledging that after leading a tribe of unruly Vikings, a breath of calm was good for the soul. He certainly did not envy Odin, with how many he must be responsible for he must also need to sit back on occasion with a few blocks of ice.
Valka sighed as she traced lines down his beard with her fingertips. "It still so hard for believe, that Hiccup… Tell me… how he went?"
"In battle," Stoick immediately responded, to soothe her fears. "I was such a fool… He shot down a Night Fury, though nobody believed it. Tamed it, too, but kept that to himself. He learned… so much about dragons. Things that we could have used to stop the attacks, safely protect ourselves. But I threw all that away for a chance for the nest."
He took a deep, only slightly shaky breath. "Imagine our surprise when we cracked open that mountain and found… something not quite as big as that," he gestured to the titan below, "but not far off. He'd tried to warn me. He knew, he'd been there." He chuckled. "And he got back there on the backs of the training dragons, him and his friends. But that Night Fury…"
The two Furies were still playing below, though one had dropped into the water. "They took each other out. Him and the Fury for the big one. Well, Toothless survived-"
"Toothless!?" Valka exclaimed, pulling back to stare at him with an incredulous grin.
"Aye," Stoick said with a roll of his eyes. "It doesn't matter now. He crashed in the aftermath, broke his wings. Still don't know where he wandered off to…" The missing Fury reappeared, bursting out of the water next to the Bewilderbeast and chasing straight after the other. "...but I guess they have something to do with it. Doesn't matter, if they don't want to talk. I don't deserve it anyway."
"I always knew he would be strong," Valka asserted; true enough, despite how tiny and frail their child had been born, she had always strongly believed he would pull through, never shown a shred of doubt. "He happy now," she reminded him with a gentle hand on his arm, her twinkling green eyes staring into his. "And even if he doesn't forgive you, he doesn't hate you. Just what you did. He wouldn't have followed you there otherwise."
Stoick closed his eyes, their sudden wetness stinging in the frigid wind. "You're right," he said softly.
She was silent for a long time, tracing lines over his arm, and when she did speak, it was quietly. "Just resolve to do better next time."
His thoughtless reaction was to scoff. There wouldn't be a next time, he would never-
He froze and stared at her as the implications hit him. "You will come back to Berk? To… me?"
"I've still got a few years left in me," she said in a slow, seductive voice, making him very aware of her hip under his hand, her body leaning against him. "And these dragons are my nest, but… you were mine first. And we protect our own." She smirked at him. "I think you need my help more."
Anything Stoick said would inevitably lead to him putting his foot in his mouth, so he stared down at the Night Furies, thinking of how much warmer his bed would be from now on… and how living with dragons for some twenty years had done nothing to temper her wild streak. Quite the opposite, really; the purring in particular had been a surprise. This definitely felt like a dream.
Two flashes of blue light erupted into clouds of thick smoke, which the Furies flew through. Then the distant explosions sounded, as if Thor had been sleeping and forgotten to add the thunder for a moment.
Stoick watched as those big black wings rhythmically rose and fell, lifting the two dragons up towards him and Valka, and moments later they were landing on the semi-flat area he and Valka shared with their dragons. "Hey-" Stoick started to protest as one lunged into his lap – Hiccup, he spotted a moment later by the scattering of mottled scales all over his back – but rather than being wet and cold as he'd expected, he was dry and pleasantly warm.
With an alarming flailing of wings and limbs, Hiccup was quickly lying on his back, the top portion of him across Stoick's lap with a wing awkwardly pressed up against Stoick's front and legs twitching in the air. "You're getting too big for this," he chided, but a paw just waved at him, lightly brushing his beard. Next to them, Valka laughed and wrestled with her own Fury, falling over and disappearing in a flurry of black. "Okay," Stoick conceded, rubbing Hiccup's warm chest, and smiling at his stretching and happy squeak.
"Anyway," he then said, prodding the chest, "I thought I told you to come right back. You had me worried." The response was a wet snort.
"You do care for them, don't you?" Valka asked, similarly roped into giving Toothy her attention.
"Aye," Stoick agreed softly, running his hand over the Fury's chest and smiling sadly at his purring. "They feel like… all I have left of him. He made many things, but… that was not who he was. He was a wild spirit, seeking his place. I think he found it, with his Night Fury." He thought back to that moment, staring up at his son on the back of the black demon, and chills ran down his spine. It was as if Hiccup had belonged there, where he was always meant to be.
For years, those memories had haunted him, that his son was so much greater a man than he. The Furies had helped him cope, but it wasn't until after his wife had beaten some sense into him – literally – that he finally felt some measure of peace with it. "I'm glad you dragged me out here," he murmured to Hiccup, tracing lines along his scales. "Had one more thing to give me, didn't you?"
Hiccup purred loudly, arching his back and stretching his paws up into the air. The offspring of lightning and death, indeed. Though, fearsome reputation aside, they had found Valka, one who was long thought dead.
He looked to his wife to find her staring at him with wide, stricken eyes, overcome with some emotion. "What is it?" he asked tensely.
"It's, I just," she sniffled, "I've dreamed of this… for so long…" She worked her way out from under Toothy to scoot up against him again and cling to his arm. "Please, please be real. I know it's not possible and it's too perfect but please don't let me wake from this dream…"
"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, holding her close with one arm and Hiccup with the other, feeling similarly overcome. "Ragnarok itself won't keep me from you."
He meant it, too, particularly once she started weeping into his sleeve. Dragons had torn them apart, and now dragons had brought them together again. He wasn't about to let anything get in the way of that.
Although he hated to admit it, Dreamer was finding himself a sucker for the rapidly flourishing romance between his parents. They talked and danced and Dam showed Sire all the wonders of the nest and he clearly wasn't remotely interested in anything but how happy she was but that was all he wanted to see anyway.
He was truly happy for them. There was still a dark grief to Sire's eyes whenever he looked at the Nightstrikers, but now it was… not holding him back.
One day, as Dreamer lay in the moss on the familiar ledge to watch Dam introduce Sire to yet more dragons of the nest that she had rescued, Cloudjumper approached him with a somewhat sombre expression. "Dreamer," the big Four-Wing rumbled, and Dreamer lifted his head in acknowledgement. "I need say things."
Cloudjumper was clearly something more than the regular dragons, had much better words and sharper thinking, but it was still unusual for a dragon to not get straight to the point. Dreamer offered a pleasant warble with a lilt of query in reply.
"I understand Skyreaching is your dam," the dragon rumbled, settling down to the ground with his usual slow, deliberate movements, and Dreamer chuffed. "That is strange, you Nightstriker now. But you were Long-Paw." Dreamer chuffed again, wondering where he was going with this. "I think I see you when you Long-Paw. Many seasons past."
Dreamer hummed thoughtfully at that. "When wing-hunters attack Long-Paws?" How would he even have recognised him?
"Yes," Cloudjumper said hesitantly, barely even tossing his head. "I was… looking. Alpha wanted that I find female. But… I think no other Four-Wings live. I looked much." Dreamer whined sympathetically at that. He could somewhat relate, given his ongoing maturing with lack of females, but to be so certain there were none in the world to find? That was a horrible thought; he at least had the option. "That not matter," Cloudjumper huffed. "But I was curious of Long-Paws. While one nest was distracted by wing-hunters, I got into one Long-Paw den. It was far from fighting."
This was starting to give Dreamer a bad feeling, but Cloudjumper inexorably pressed on, his calm but sad gaze boring straight through him. "I find hatchling inside. You, I think. You were not biting or angry. You were happy."
"You took Dam," Dreamer surmised, feeling his ears and frills droop. Somehow, he had never wondered exactly which of these dragons had separated them all those years ago.
"Yes," Cloudjumper admitted. "She find me looking at you, but she not attack me. She not was scared." He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, head bowing forwards. "I was lonely. Long-Paws have good thinking like us, I thought… maybe I not be so lonely." He looked off to the side and bared his teeth a little. "A biting Long-Paw run in, shouting, wave big claw. I wanted protect her. I know now," he looked back to where Sire and Dam were surrounded by hopeful dragons scrounging for attention, "that I not think. I took your dam."
He turned back to Dreamer and lowered his head to the ground. "I sorry," he said with a deeply apologetic purr, the numerous frills around his face downcast.
Dreamer nuzzled him, offering his forgiveness. "I was sad for not having Dam," he rumbled quietly, "but… all my life put me where I am now. I want be Nightstriker. I maybe still Long-Paw if you not take Dam." He sighed. "I not happy that you take her… but I happy." He had long since overcome any such turmoil to be affected by it now of all times. "Thank you for tell me."
Cloudjumper purred and nuzzled him back, then gave the side of his head a friendly nip before turning a bit to settle down and watch the two Long-Paws in the nest.
There was something… tense in the way he watched. He held his wings a little more closely to himself than usual, and he was sitting a little closer than he normally would. "What biting your tail?" Dreamer asked him. When the big dragon didn't respond, he rolled his eyes and decided to be a little brazen, creeping up to slide under his wing; despite coming into summer, it was still cold in this nest.
The wing started to jerk back as he touched it, Cloudjumper turning his head a bit to give him a stern look, but then he seemed to change his mind and settled the wing over Dreamer's back as he sidled up against him. Mmrrr, this was much warmer. This nest would be perfect if it was just a few hundred miles south…
He groaned quietly, feeling his body relax from a tension he hadn't even noticed, the warmth slowly soaking into his hide. The ground was still somewhat cold but the thick moss was a passable insulator, and Cloudjumper's enormous wing covered him like a living blanket, not only trapping the warmth inside but actively contributing to it. He didn't know what was going on with the big dragon but he certainly wasn't arguing…
It wasn't long before he was nodding off, and he didn't fight it, his breaths rumbling through the catch in his throat in a constant, hearty purring. His transient, fleeting dreams were peaceful and normal, each forgotten the moment he entered the next, the rhythms of Cloudjumper's heart and breaths and the murmuring of Sire and Dam lulling him back to sleep whenever he so much as thought of rousing.
He didn't even need to curl up on himself, just tucked his tail around to hold in his paws and drape over his neck to keep it inside the little tent. The intermittent scratching at the top of his neck, just behind his frills, was just amazing as well… The only thing that was missing was Wanderer.
Something didn't add up there… His eyes blinked open, and he tilted his head a bit to find Dam sat back against Cloudjumper's chest, reaching back to rest her hand on Dreamer. At feeling his movement, she turned and smiled adoringly at him, then pressed the side of her face to Cloudjumper to nuzzle him. His other wing was hooked protectively around her lap, and while he was holding his head up, it drooped forward in a way that looked like he was sleeping.
"Comfy?" Dam asked him quietly, and he replied by touching his tail to her wrist and purring a little louder. "Sleep," she hummed, gently stroking his head.
"I'm surprised they like it here," Sire rumbled from nearby, somewhere just out of sight. "It's colder than Berk, and Fishlegs said they like the warm." He definitely wasn't wrong. "I used to have a hard time keeping them out of the fire, when they were this big," he chuckled.
"They slim for dragons," Dam agreed, her voice laced with amusement. "Not much fat to keep cold out. Do we need to fix your bed?" It took Dreamer a moment to realise her voice had got a bit clearer for the question, as she had turned to ask him, and tossed his head sleepily; it was a bed of coals now, which was fine, but would need fresh wood soon. Maybe they could move the larger lumps of charcoal onto the new one. "We go flying today," she offered.
That sounded good. Dreamer yawned, not quite ready to be awake but wanting to just appreciate being so thoroughly warm again. "I happy you be with Sire again," he mumbled, shuffling for a slightly better angle to talk to her.
"I also," she hummed warmly. "I wish I knew sooner. He changed… very much…" Her face fell a little, her eyes suddenly sad. "You still think… he not should know you alive?"
Dreamer huffed. He had briefly explained that he hadn't told anyone, particularly his sire, but hadn't gone into his reasoning as she'd had the same opinion about herself. He supposed that now her own fears were assuaged, she no longer had that empathy. "He not should know," he rumbled. "I not his hatchling now. He need fly forwards." A fond purr rumbled from his throat. "He was good sire, after I Nightstriker. For Wanderer also. That not mean anything if he know he my sire." The man had received a second chance, but that only worked as long as he didn't realise it was a second chance.
"He would want know," she pressed, lightly running her hand down his ear. "He not deserve that if he do good? I can help tell him, explain."
"Why?" Dreamer asked lethargically. "What good that do now? He finally happy. If we tell him, he will want things for me. Things I not will want." Would he still try to make him Chief? There was a funny thought, a dragon leading a village of Vikings.
"I think he be happy for you," Dam hummed, just voicing her thoughts; he didn't feel pressured or anything, they were just talking, and he was still half asleep. "Happy that you happy."
He closed his eyes to think about that for a little while, teetering on the brink of sleep and thus vividly visualising how it would go. Yes, Sire would be happy for him. He was what he had always wanted, big and strong and fierce, wise of the world and with close, trusted friends. But… even then, there would be expectations. Viking and dragon cultures were very different, and Sire would not understand. Dreamer didn't intend to leave and never come back, and would outlive his parents by… wrrr, however long he wanted, he supposed, even hundreds of years.
But if Sire knew Dreamer was actually his son… that wouldn't be a choice any more, he would be ordered to return, expected to, and that turned him off the idea of ever coming back to even visit. He wouldn't see a grown Night Fury any more, he would see his son, and that would come with all the baggage it implied.
"Yes, he would be happy," Dreamer agreed. "But better this way. He should think I in, wrrr, good place Long-Paws go when die. Not worry him that I dragon, he not need that."
"You would know best," Dam said softly, stroking his head again. This was why he hadn't minded telling her who he was, because he would still be allowed to grow, to make his own decisions. She wouldn't try to mother him – not too much, anyway – recognising him as the adult he was becoming, that he already was in many ways; mostly it was just his body catching up to his mental age.
As he lay there with Dam stroking his head, thinking about their relationship, he realised… he didn't intend on going back to Berk with them. There was nothing for him there. He had outgrown his parents, his nest, and was free to fly wherever the winds led him.
It had already happened, really, back when he'd left the first time to go fight Viggo and his hunters. Returning to Berk after that had been uncomfortable, but necessary, and Wanderer had not been happy there. They were both happy here. Except for perhaps the lack of other Nightstrikers… but there was still the chance of some turning up here, about as good as meeting them anywhere else really; for all the reputation they had in the South, they were still known for being rare. And they regularly flew far, increasing the likelihood of finding one.
In any case, Dreamer really had no idea what he was doing, Wanderer was the one who knew all that stuff. He knew when, where, and how they should be looking, and he seemed confident in whatever he was doing on that front. Dreamer's own confusion was still prevalent, so he was more than content to let the other Nightstriker make the decisions.
Even if that meant staying here while Sire and Dam returned home. They had their lives, and he and Wanderer had their own. That was the way it was meant to be.