Some of these loops were written before HTTYD3 came out. Others were written just after it came out, but some of them are pretty much new.
16.1
This kind of thing really makes you think, Toothless said. Doesn't it make you think too?
"I guess you probably mean the expansions, right?" Hiccup checked. "Yeah, that's an odd place to be all right. The metaphysical inplications alone-"
I'm not really thinking of the metaphysical implications, Toothless corrected. You know I've got an on-again off-again relationship with Stormfly, right?
"Oh, yeah, right," Hiccup realized. "Yeah, that could complicate things a bit."
A bit, he says, Toothless chuckled. But yeah, it's weird that we get a kind of warning filtering out from the hub. And at this point I'm not sure if what I'm about to get is a long-lost relative, a baseline love interest, or an evil counterpart. Or possibly all three.
"Yeah," Hiccup winced. "But it's kind of freaky to think about how it's not long before another detail goes from being at the mercy of countless variants to being just... well, baseline."
All I'm saying is that if the baseline plot requires me to fly off into the sunset without you, I'm Betweenjumping back as soon as the camera stops. That kind of thing is sappy but teleporters have no truck with it.
16.2 (Pern/40K)
"So, that's your report," the Emperor said to his son.
"Yes, Father," Leman Russ confirmed. "I have found what I believe to be the world of one of the Primarchs."
The Emperor considered that.
"Despite how there were twenty Primarchs, and we found them all."
"Twenty and a half," Leman corrected. "Alpharius and Omegon count for more than one but less than two. There's precedent."
"They were a special case," the Emperor said, then shook his head. "This is because you found somewhere you want to get special treatment, isn't it?"
"Yes," Russ admitted. "You know what happened to the Eleventh; it's a perfectly viable cover story with nobody alive who can contradict it except for you and myself."
"Let me guess," the Emperor frowned. "Loopers."
"Exactly," Russ agreed. "I found Pern. Admittedly they're not exactly temperamentally suited to the Great Crusade, but they do have a role they can play."
The Emperor put his hand to his chin, thinking, then pointed.
"Son. Tell your companions to stop making puppy eyes. It doesn't work when they're wolves that I've seen eat their way through Land Raider armour."
"Technically they're your sons as well," Leman said. "So you're already willing to bend the rules-"
"Is this because you consider them your siblings?" the Emperor asked. "Leman, that's up to you."
"And us," Freki pointed out.
The Emperor reacted to the news that the Wolves of Fenris had been enhanced with speech again this loop by simply sitting back down.
"So, what role do you think the Pernese Eleventh could play?" he asked.
"Well," Leman Russ began. "What would you say if I told you a Pernese dragon offers a form of interstellar travel which does not involve the Warp, and which involves a travel period of about an hour to cross the entire galaxy?"
The Immortal God-Emperor of Mankind shifted slightly on his Throne.
"Go on," he requested.
"The armour's a bit silly, isn't it?" F'lar asked. "I'll barely be able to move in it."
Dragon riders can lift however much they choose, Mnementh told him matter-of-factly.
"I don't think it works that way," F'lar replied.
It does if you remember the instruction manual, Mnementh answered, floating it in front of him in a grip of telekinesis. And to turn on the artificial muscles. Oh, that's interesting, it has manoeuvering thrusters fitted to it.
Overhead, the Space Wolves battle-barge Wolfy McWolf-face blew the Red Star's entire crust off with a cyclonic torpedo.
Besides, they've solved Thread for us, Mnementh added. And gotten us all cushy jobs. You could at least make an effort to look pleased about it.
16.3
Hiccup blinked, and he was back at Berk – a youth, in his teens, during a dragon attack.
"Huh," he said, blinking several times. "That was… not quite what I expected."
"What wasn't?" Gobber asked, puzzled. "Something up, Hiccup?"
"Well… not exactly," Hiccup replied. "I just kind of felt a bit dizzy."
"It's not like those dragons are going to wait until you're feeling well!" Gobber pointed out. "Want to handle stoking the fires, I'll handle the up-front stuff for now?"
"No, I'll be fine," Hiccup waved off.
Hiccup? Toothless asked, his mind reaching out to his rider. You there?
Right here, bud, Hiccup replied, starting work with his hammer. Well, I guess we know what baseline is now.
Yeah, Toothless agreed. And I think I'm not the only one to have decidedly mixed feelings about it.
Let's talk later, when we're face to face, Hiccup suggested. Any idea if Astrid's around?
No, sorry, Toothless replied. I just saw Stormfly, who's not Awake, and no sign of anything from Astrid.
Hiccup touched his chest for a moment, clenching a fist, then went back to fixing swords and re-heading spears.
Early the next morning, when the mist was still in the air, the heir to the chieftanship of Berk sat on top of a cliff which overlooked the town itself.
"Do you want to go first?" he asked of the air.
Toothless shifted next to him, transparent and invisible, and Hiccup knew exactly where he was.
It felt kind of like a trance, Hiccup's best friend said. Or… it felt normal, but when it ended I knew what had happened and how it didn't make sense. Do you think that's something they set up?
"Probably," Hiccup replied. "I heard something from Twilight once about how they sometimes handle expansions like that – it's because otherwise we might have no idea about what the expansion was. And this counts. I mean..."
He put a hand to his forehead. "If Astrid got the same thing, I mean… I had a son and a daughter, Toothless. Two lovely little ones – you saw them! And you and… and your mate had three. And now..."
Toothless crooned something, putting his head under Hiccup's arm until the human started scratching it out of habit. I know, Hiccup. I know. We'll see them again, someday, sometime. But… it hurts, and it's only knowing that we'd never have been able to have them at all if the system wasn't set up…
He shook his wings out, a suggestion of moving mist in the dawn gloaming, and curled his tail around to Hiccup's free hand. It's okay to feel sad, Hiccup. It really is. I feel terrible about all this, even though I know with a certainty nobody who doesn't loop could ever match that we will see our families again.
Hiccup's mind brushed against the edge of Toothless' sadness, which fully equalled his own, and they both shied away from the contact.
I can't feel any of the other dragons, Toothless added. Not one. So we're alone for the loop.
"Yeah," Hiccup agreed. "I… ergh, I'm not sure what to do. There's so many of those cool new tricks you have I want to play around with, but at the same time it feels like that's the wrong thing to do."
They sat in silence for several minutes, the human and the dragon just… glad that there was someone else there who knew what they'd both experienced.
...how about this, Toothless suggested eventually. We go vent our frustrations on the Green Death, then I'll make the dragons stop attacking. After a month or so of that… well, I can go invisible now. I had this idea...
"Hiccup," Stoick said, blinking. "What is… that?"
"Oh, this?" Hiccup replied, indicating the vaguely dragon-shaped cog-festooned object next to him. "I made him."
The object looked at Hiccup's hand, then tilted its head.
"What do you mean, you made it?" Stoick asked.
"I made him," Hiccup repeated. "He's all made of clockwork. You know, like those clocks they make down south which don't rely on the sun."
"Are you sure it's not a dragon?" Stoick said. "They've been gone for a month now, they must be planning something."
"Pretty sure, dad," Hiccup replied. "I mean… where would a dragon fit?"
Stoick looked closer, examining carefully as the clockwork creature leaned forwards to 'sniff' him. "Why's it doing that?"
"That's an automatic reaction if he's not sure what the command is," Hiccup explained. "Some of the clockwork is built to learn, so he'll get smarter over time."
After another minute or so, Stoick had to admit he couldn't see where a dragon could be. There were gaps in the clockwork which clearly showed the other side of the machine, or in some places the ground, and little bits of spring-escapement which went tick tock tick tock gently every second or so.
Then the creature's tail flicked out, and it slumped as the tick tock noise faded gently away.
"Whoops," Hiccup said, hurrying over with a small key, and turned it a few times in a slot on the clockwork dragon's chest. Six quick twists, and the dragon's assorted springs and gears began whirring again.
"There we go," the young Viking engineer said with satisfaction. "Should last another day or so before he needs another winding – I'm going to try and get the wings functional next!"
He patted his creation on the neck proudly, and it bobbed slightly with the pressure. "What do you think, Dad? I called him Toothless, because he's not."
Stoick blinked. "What?"
"Cog wheels have teeth," Hiccup explained, indicating them. "He doesn't have any of the bitey kind of teeth, but he's made of the other kind. So it's a joke."
"...right," Stoick said. "Okay… um… good work, son?"
16.4
"So, what's she called?" Fishlegs asked.
Toothless raised his head and blinked. Pardon?
"It's a simple question," the stocky Viking lad replied, shrugging. "I mean, we can't just keep calling her 'the Light Fury' or 'Toothless' mate' all the time. We stopped calling you 'Night Fury, get down' pretty quickly."
That… well, it's a difficult question, Toothless replied. When I called her I would always say-
He made a peculiar noise.
So, as you can tell, he continued. It's a bit difficult to translate.
"No, that's pretty easy to translate," Hiccup replied. "If you speak Dragonese, anyway. It's something like, uh… can you say it again?"
Toothless made the strange noise a second time.
"Uhhh..." Fishlegs began, lips moving. "'The glittering quality of light where it is bright enough to be seen but not bright enough to see anything else', I think?"
"Something like that, yeah," Hiccup agreed.
Yes, but saying it in Norse takes all the poetry out of it, Toothless grumbled. And it's a bit long.
"I think we could shorten it," Fishlegs replied.
Meatlug came flying over and landed with a thud, then shook herself out. I got used to the Hidden World really easily, she muttered. You know I had a condo there?
"A what?" Hiccup asked, distracted. "They have condos?"
They have rock pillars, Meatlug replied. I was on the third ring up. There was a family of fifty little glowing guys on the second ring, they always kept me awake long into what I assume was probably the night.
"What about this?" Fishlegs said. "The bit about the brightness of light, that's kind of like starlight. And the glittering thing is, well, glittering or glimmering."
"Won't work," Hiccup vetoed. "Starlight Glimmer is one of Twilight Sparkle's long-term projects, it's too confusing to pick that if we don't have an alternative."
"And Twilight Sparkle was my second choice," Fishlegs admitted. "I guess sunset has a similar light quality – oh, no, never mind, that's bad too."
"Ponies, huh?" Hiccup chuckled. "Maybe you could teach her Norse one loop, bud? It might help."
It might take a while, what with the lack of the right vocal equipment, Toothless replied. Anyway, you both speak Dragonese, just say that.
"...I'm just going to leave a blank space on her data card for her name," Fishlegs decided. "What about the rest of the loop, boss?"
I have a suggestion, Meatlug bespoke them all. Hear me out, okay?
She paused for a long, dramatic moment.
So we let Toothless get captured, and we do the bit where he leads the war fleet to the nest. Except he takes them to New Berk.
You realize that would mean I'd be in that collar for at least a week? Toothless demanded.
Hey, I'm an ideas Gronckle, you handle the details...
16.5
"Demon!" one of the guards shouted, pointing at the warrior in black dragonscale and his flaming sword.
"I'm not even going to try explaining it this time," Hiccup sighed. "Let's do this, Toothless!"
There was a screech overhead, then a shoom, and an explosive fireball rocketed overhead. It hit one of the dragon cages, detonating with a flash of blue light, and the top turned into shrapnel which went in all directions.
"By the way, guard person, have you ever considered how much harm you're doing to the natural world by putting dragons in cages?" Hiccup asked. "It's really not their natural environment."
A Rumblehorn looked up, puzzled, then took off though the sudden hole in the cage, and a whisper of blue light flicked through the air overhead as Toothless made a sharp banking turn.
"They're trying to free the dragons!" the guard called out. "Stop them!"
"Wow, as if that wasn't already obvious," Hiccup sighed, as his Night Fury companion flipped-and-dove overhead and made another pass. Blue fireballs opened the cages of a Nadder and a Snafflefang, and Hiccup raised his sword to fend off the onrushing guards – then another blur swept overhead through the night, and Astrid arrived hammer-first right on top of them.
"Nice one!" Hiccup called, parrying a spear-stroke and twisting his sword sharply, and the guard who'd tried to stab him nearly lost his footing with a yelp. "Any idea where the others are?"
"I think Spitelout's trying to set fire to the flagship," Astrid called, stepping back a pace so she was next to Hiccup. "And Fishlegs said something about – look out!"
Hiccup ducked, raising his shield, and three crossbow bolts thumped into it in quick succession. He glanced over to see if Astrid was okay, and breathed a sigh of relief on seeing she'd hidden her head behind the hammerhead of her huge maul.
"Hey, Toothless!" he called. "Stop drawing it out!"
Fine, Toothless grumbled in the back of his mind, and overhead the Night Fury began to glow brighter – switching the Blue Thing to high power, then drawing in electricity as well.
A quick-sequenced series of plasma balls and thunderbolts blazed down out of the heavens, each one blowing the entire top off of a dragon cage, and the air was full of flying sparks and the smell of ozone.
The Night Fury let out a screech, then there was a whap as a net flew up to bring him to the ground. Lightning blazed along his wings as he did a roll, slicing the net to flaming pieces, and he roared again to remind the formerly-imprisoned dragons to take off as soon as possible.
"What was that?" Astrid asked, pointing off to their right as a confusion of dragons all took to the air. "There was a flash, like one of Toothless' fireballs, but I didn't see him fire it."
"Oh, probably nothing," Hiccup shrugged. Toothless?
That was her, all right, Toothless confirmed. So much for pretty much Grimmel's entire plot.
He did a roll, then stealthed and swooped down to just above head height. Stormfly followed him in a trailing left-wing position, and both dragons plucked their humans off the deck in a blur of speed.
Wonder what else he's going to try now… Hiccup thought, swinging himself arm-over-arm up Toothless' harness until he was in the saddle, then called out loud. "Back to Berk?"
"Sure!" Astrid called back. "Toothless needs to lead them home, anyway!"
I guess we're going to find out, Toothless replied, as he banked around to get the attention of the milling dragons – blasting the last remaining ballista turrets almost absently as he did so. Enormous wooden sheep?
16.6
"Wow," Astrid said softly. "I knew other Loopers had to deal with stuff like that, but… wow."
Hiccup pulled her into a hug.
"I know, love," he whispered. "I know. But we'll find them again."
"I – right," she said, sighing. "That's how it works, isn't it… that's how it goes for Meatlug."
Her fists clenched, and she hugged Hiccup tighter. "I never thought it would happen to us, not really. Loops expand a little at a time – and then-"
"Yeah," Hiccup agreed.
His eyes were wet. "I've been kind of bottling it all up- Toothless went though the same thing, but... but for someone else."
After a minute or so, Astrid let out a sharp huff.
"Well, that's enough of that," she said. "We're still Vikings, we're going to keep moving on. And we will see our children again."
"I'd drink to that, but… underage," Hiccup chuckled, smiling a little at the release of tension.
"Underage?" Astrid repeated. "Underage? You're the only Viking who even drinks anything that isn't alcoholic."
"And suddenly all those dragon crashes make terrible, terrible sense," Hiccup retorted.
He smiled. "Stormfly's Awake, right?"
"Yeah," Astrid agreed, as they finally stopped embracing. "Though I guess she's busy talking it out with Toothless."
Sorry about all this, Toothless said. I know it's something we thought might happen, but… now you know?
Yeah, Stormfly agreed. It's happened to loopers before us, it'll happen to more after us.
She waved her tail, sending a volley of spikes skywards over the cove. But, honestly… I don't actually mind that much. It was always mostly a friends thing, except when we happened to be the same shape.
The Nadder gave him a look. Admittedly shapeshifting is a thing, so-
Yeah, not going to continue that thought, Toothless interjected quickly. So you're okay with it?
Sure, Stormfly shrugged. I guess it might be justified if I started grumping about it, but I'm a veteran looper – I know how to let bygones be bygones.
She snorted. Besides, Night Furies mate for life. And I don't see this being the same life as any of the times we got involved.
You know that's not what it means, Toothless chuckled. Well, I guess-
And by the way, Stormfly went on. I heard about what your first dates went like. What are you like? Are you a nigh-immortal time looper or a lovestruck hoopoe?
Toothless was silent for a long thirty seconds.
So you saw the dancing, huh?
Toothless, I'm still your friend. That means I'm obliged to laugh at you.
16.7 (Gym Quirk)
Spike Awoke kicking at the small egg, ranting about its occupant wanting to be born just as he had. He paused to assimilate his loop memories, absently noting the small form struggling against the unusually thick shell.
Pern again. Benden Weyr, if I'm not mistaken. Pre-adolescent human male this time.
The small creature butted against him through the flexible membrane beneath the outer shell layer.
"Oh, right. Sorry." Spike pulled the knife from his belt and slit the slippery film to let the white form fall into his lap.
"Spike! What are...you...doing?" called Lytol from the stands; the alarm in the Ruathan warder's voice had given way to bewilderment.
A wave of confused hubbub circulated around the crowd as Spike assisted the egg's occupant to her feet.
F'lar exchanged a look with Lessa. "I'd expected those two to show up here as a pair eventually, but this..."
Ramoth, dear? Is there something you'd like to tell us? an amused Mnementh asked his mate.
The great queen dragon could only stare at this most unusual of her offspring.
"Hello, Darling," said the indigo-maned white alicorn filly standing before Spike. She looked around at the gobsmacked crowd. "What? You'd think they've never seen a pony before. I don't suppose you have a large dandelion salad handy? I must admit that I'm absolutely famished..."
Spike masterfully confined his slightly hysterical amusement to a silent chuckle as he hugged his very special somepony.
"To state the obvious, this is going to take a while to die down," observed Robinton. "I'd estimate four to six months unless something more spectacular happens to distract the crowd."
He and Menolly had joined the Benden Weyrleaders and their Equestrian guests in Ramoth's weyr soon after the Harper had, with the assistance of a fair amount of Benden red, convinced Lytol to stop worrying about Spike and his new companion for now.
"I'm still determined to prevent F'nor's Red Star jump. Easing the inane chatter is not worth risking him, Canth, and Brekke," declared F'lar.
"Well of course not. I wasn't even considering it," said the Harper with a wounded expression.
"I do apologize for the disruption," said Rarity again.
Lessa waved away the apology. "Not your fault, my dear. Blame the loops."
"I think this one may surpass Honor and Nimith as far as odd Impression pairs go," contemplated Menolly.
"I think I missed them," said Lessa.
"First female Weyrleader of Fort. Had a real flair for threadfighting and leading dragons; I like to think I've got a solid grasp of the subject, but she taught me a few things once she'd had enough time to absorb the situation," reflected F'lar.
"As far as I can tell, we don't actually have an impression bond," pointed out the young Lord of Ruatha as he brushed Rarity's mane. "So for public consumption, we should be short and to the point, right? Yes. This happened. No. We don't know how or why. No. Ramoth isn't worried at all. Neither are the Weyrleaders."
It's just going to take a little getting used to, admitted the gold dragon with an apologetic look at the pony.
Menolly glanced at Robinton and seemingly steeled herself. "I have a suggestion about how to mitigate the medium-to-long-term impact of this situation. It won't help much with the current public reaction, but may serve to defang any persistent critics and malcontents." She went on to explain the plan and reasoning in detail.
Lessa was decidedly not enthusiastic about the notion. Ramoth's eyes took on a reddish tinge.
Robinton turned on the charm: He and Menolly had briefly discussed the possibility earlier. "I understand completely that you would find a ribald song about the events leading to the Hatching offensive on several levels, but humor and gentle mockery should blunt any outright hostility and persistent questioning on the topic."
Lessa and Ramoth shared a long look before turning to face the harpers. "I'll permit it only because it's probably the best option we have, but I have two stipulations.
"First, I want an advance copy of the finished product before you start circulating, if only so I'll know what to expect.
"Second, I will be selectively deaf to this for this loop only. If I hear so much as a single line from any source in any subsequent loop, there will be Consequences. Keep in mind that I have trained with the Sweeper of Oi Dong." She left the remainder of the threat unspoken, but displayed a deceptively mild smile. Addendum to Rule One: This also applies to small queenriders.
Rarity's added her own rather ascerb observations. "As this proposed song reflects on my ancestry as well - at least so far as this loop is concerned - I shall add my own threats as regards circulation beyond this specific loop iteration." She locked her gaze on Spike.
"Ahem. Yes dear. Of course."
16.8
Robinton rested the butt of his fiddle against his chin, flourished the bow, and began to play. A lively air sprang from the strings, jovial and resonant, and the Gather at Two Sisters Sea-Hold rose to their feet as one as the Journeyman began to sing.
"Raise your hats and your glasses too! We will dance the whole night through! We're going back to a time we knew – under a violet moon!"
The fiddle's song spread out, and laughter followed it. Sailors and shorefolk alike clapped along, and on the second repetition of the same verse they began to sing along as well – all except the couples who began to dance, following the beat as Robinton embellished it with little flourishes.
When the song came to a reluctant end, Hark – the Sea-Holder – came up to shake Robinton's hand as he lowered his bow.
"Fine work, young harper!" he said, with a broad smile. "Fine work indeed! You've played a dozen songs for us so far, and not a one do I remember hearing before! Are they your own?"
"A few, though the rest… well, I heard them here and there," Robinton disclaimed with a smile. "All Harpers should have a fine ear for a new tune, and I've run into more than my share."
"And you barely older than my eldest son, at that," Hark commented. "It seems Harpers truly do see everything on Pern eventually – or perhaps that should be they hear everything eventually? If you've run into so many new songs at only twenty Turns, I wonder how many you'll eventually have to entertain us with?"
"I'll do my best to bring you as many as I can," Robinton promised. "Do you think it should be another jig, next, or perhaps something slower?"
"My good man, after an hour's playing I would hope you could take a break entirely!" Hark said. "But I wouldn't say no to another song, perhaps something a bit slower?"
Robinton was about to oblige, when suddenly there was a flash of movement and a shout of surprise. A little bronze dragon dropped out of thin air onto the table just in front of him, knocking over plates and cups, and Robinton locked eyes with Zair with a gasp.
Impression's blue glow washed over them, and Robinton nearly dropped his fiddle – retaining only enough presence of mind to put the instrument down, before embracing his beloved companion. The chill of Between clung to Zair's bonze scales, some half-frozen gunk coating them, and Robinton didn't care about the mess it was making of his best Gather clothes – only that Zair was here.
And, for that matter, early.
You were a very long way away, Zair said. That made it hard to find you. I didn't like it.
I wasn't expecting you for decades, dear heart, Robinton replied, putting a hand on Zair's neck and stroking down it – heedless of the utter shock spreading through the Two Sisters gather square. I thought we would meet in a room in Fort, with Menolly there to watch as you and Kimi hatched out of fire-lizard egg pots.
Oh, Zair blinked, his eyes whirling. I didn't realize I was being so inconvenient. Should I come back later?
Robinton laughed. I don't think that would work out very well, he said. You are here, and so am I, and… I suppose what happens now is a very good question, now that I come to think of it.
"Journeyman?" Hark asked. "What just happened? That – that's a dragon, right?"
"Yes," Robinton agreed. "His name is Zair, and he is a very clever little dragon… it seems that I wasn't where he expected me to be, so he came to find me instead."
"I've never heard of that happening," Hark admitted. "Not much of one for knowing about dragons anyway, mind… but I thought they all had names that ended the same?"
"Zair is special," Robinton replied, stroking Zair under the chin. "Very special."
I think Feyrith has noticed I went missing, Zair informed his rider. This should be a very interesting conversation. I hope you are ready for some Harper fast talking.
He paused. Oh, Simanith's wing is on the way.
A scarce handful of seconds later the sky over Two Sisters was full of dragons – bronze and brown, blue and green, as F'lon's entire wing came bursting into the air overhead.
Bronze Simanith came swooping down to hover over the Gather, landing in the clear space that had been used for dancing only a few minutes before, and his rider jumped down.
"The bronze who went missing!" he said. "I – Robinton!? What are you doing here?"
"Well, two weeks ago I was at Half-Circle," Robinton answered with a shrug. "This is the next spot along the coast."
He brought a plate of food up for Zair with one hand, and made a bow with the other. "It's good to see you, F'lon."
F'lon's gaze went from Robinton to the plate, then to Zair – who returned it with equanimity, taking cuts of meat from the plate with a foreleg and eating them at speed.
When Zair dipped a chunk of wherry into a garlic sauce and taste-tested it before swallowing it down, F'lon finally broke eye contact and shook his head.
"Only you, Robie," he said with a sigh. "Only you could be this confusing."
"You wait, within the month I'll be teaching Zair to drum," Robinton replied, winking, and turned to the table to fetch a second plate of food as Zair came to the end of the first.
"Zair?" F'lon repeated, then sighed. "You just have to break all the rules, don't you?"
At least now I'm only a dragonrider who can speak to dragons, Robinton retorted, sending it through Simanith to make his point. "I'm sure I'll find plenty more to break as time goes on. Has anyone been a dragonrider and a Harpermaster before?"
"Oh, shards, don't even joke about that," F'lon groaned, sitting in a nearby chair. "This is going to be such a mess…"
16.9
"Well, son, it's..." Stoick began, then paused. "Hold on, it'll be a moment, still got to process all that."
Hiccup waited patiently as his father paced back and forth, just inside the door to their house.
"Well, you've made me proud," Stoick summarized. "You've also told me in no uncertain terms that I'm getting grandkids, and – to be honest, lad, that's something I've been worried about for a while."
"You mean because we're loopers?" Hiccup asked. "It's an occupational hazard."
"No, lad, not because of that, more because of… this," Stoick went on, gesturing to Hiccup.
"You just gestured to – okay, we've done that joke enough," Hiccup said. "What's wrong with the idea that Astrid and I would eventually settle down?"
Stoick chuckled. "Parents have an idea, you know."
He spread his hands. "Admittedly not always a good one, but that's the way of the world. Now, you said something about a New Berk? A better place for us to live?"
"That's right," Hiccup agreed. "Though admittedly it's not enough better that we should move there every loop."
Stoick nodded, then frowned.
"Toothless does know Blitsif is Awake, right?"
Toothless? Hiccup asked. Dad just asked me whether you know Blitsif is awake. What's going on?
Well, I know now, Toothless replied, sounding petulant. Stoick was going to need a dragon anyway, so I thought I'd go find her and recruit her myself, you know, now I can do the lightning thing and everything.
His mental voice went a little bit fainter. So I went to all the trouble of tracking her down in a thunderstorm, and showing off to try and convince her I knew what was what… admittedly I was a bit puzzled why she was just giving me odd looks, though.
Toothless erupted into the air overhead, or at least that's what Hiccup assumed he was doing – his dragon was quite fond of going completely invisible in daytime now, and there was just a whisper of wind to mark his passing.
Blitsif had no such invisibility, and when she appeared in the sky over Berk that led to a lot of people shouting and panicking.
"All right!" Stoick called. "All right, you spiny beast!"
Spiny beast? Blitsif replied with a snort to all the Loopers present, then let out a pro forma roar for the Vikings so they could fit what was going on into their worldview. I hope you're going to buy me dinner first.
Stoick raised his hammer threateningly, and the Skrill landed with a clatter of metallic scales in the open space between the buildings – rattling her spines in a threat display of her own.
"Thor!" Stoick called. "Grant me strength to destroy all evil!"
Lightning blazed out of the cloudless sky, striking Stoick's hammer and surrounding it in arcing coronae of electricity. Stoick whirled it once, and threw it – knocking Blitsif over with a thunderclap and bouncing off to blast the top off a small mountain.
"Wow..." Snotlout mumbled. "So cool..."
Blitsif shook herself out, sparks crackling over her scales, and approached Stoick. Then she licked his hand.
"Well, would you look at that," Stoick shrugged. "Power to destroy all evil and the Skrill's not destroyed. So I guess it's not evil."
Looks like you did get me dinner, Blitsif opined.
"I'm not sure that's how it works," Gobber said, a little dubiously. "But you are the chief..."
"I've actually been studying dragons," Hiccup contributed. "I think they could be very helpful if they're treated right."
He held out his arm, and Toothless materialized sitting on it.
"Night Fury!" Spitelout shouted, diving for the floor. "Get down!"
"Of course he's not a Night Fury," Hiccup replied. "Night Furies never show themselves."
"He's got a point," Fishlegs agreed. "They're also vicious, heartless killers."
Hiccup scratched Toothless up the side, making him croon, until the human reached a pressure point and Toothless collapsed forwards with a dopey grin.
"Doesn't look very heartless to me," Gobber admitted. "Is this a thing now, Stoick? We all going to have dragons?"
"If we're having dragons, I want a cool one," Snotlout called.
"I want one that's better than Ruffnut," Tuffnut called.
"You wish!" Ruffnut called back, pouncing, and the twins dissolved into a brawl.
Just another day in Berk, really.
16.10 (Dragonmaster)
"Well, here we go," Hal Kailas said, sucking in a breath and then letting it out with a deep sigh.
He lay back on the bed he'd been in when he began the loop, letting the pause between Awakening and getting up stretch out, then reluctantly swung himself out of bed to get dressed.
Taking his trousers from the floor, Hal paused and inspected them. His Loop memories were being difficult, which wasn't exactly a novel experience, but he could swear that these weren't normal for Deraine.
The company mark was the same, indicating that a company based somewhere near the Chicor strait was responsible for making them, but they were an altogether closer weave and a more regular cut.
Shrugging, Hal slipped them on. He reached out for his dragon, a reptile of few words, and a rush of formless acceptance and empathy flowed back.
That brought a smile to Hal's lips, and he felt Storm's awareness reaching out to him in turn – watching as he buttoned on a shirt, then flung open the curtains.
And stared.
His window was on the third floor of a building, looking out over a city. A big city – bigger than the capital he was familiar with and like nothing from the Deraine he remembered, thousands of houses with glazed windows and colourful paint on the walls jostling for space with apartment blocks rising twenty stories and more into the sky. The occasional sputter of magic lit the air in the distance, but there were power cables flowing everywhere – and an aircraft overhead, a buzzing thing with a pusher propeller and stiff wings, wavering a little in flight as it was accompanied by a big red dragon flying protectively alongside.
Steam cars chuffed and hissed along the metalled streets, some with spoked wheels and others with rubber tyres, and there was the rumbling growl of a petrol engine a few blocks away.
Hal took in the different new sight for several seconds, picking out the landmarks – the Royal Palace, the shape of the terrain – and confirmed to his satisfaction that he was in Rozen. It looked like it was still Deraine's capital, but what a different capital it was!
Then Storm came swooping down from overhead, wings thundering, and slowed to a hover just outside the window.
"Really?" Hal asked, but he was smiling. "I suppose that means you're going to want a flight, beastie."
Storm honked assent, and Hal paused for long enough to collect his effects from his room as his Loop memories trickled in. Then he jumped a-dragonback, pulling the windows closed behind him, and Storm took them up and away to see the whole of Rozen laid out beneath them.
A part of Hal's mind was fixing the new-look Rozen in his memory, giving him and Storm a set of more general jump coordinates than the ones his dragon had taken from his mind minutes before. But the rest of him was focusing on the loop itself, getting the best details he could of what he was in for.
After several minutes, Hal nudged his dragon. "You realize that it actually looks like there isn't a war about to happen?"
Storm waggled his wings.
"Probably be a coup or something," the rider decided. "Sooner or later."
Another minute passed in companionable silence, a mile in the air.
"By the way, what were you doing before?"
The green dragon sent an image into the mind of his rider.
"...oh, okay," Hal said, blinking. "I hope the King doesn't feel too upset his menagerie is missing a dragon."
He stretched. "Well, there's nothing to really keep us here. Fancy flying west?"
Storm's answer was to turn left, away from the rising sun, and his wings cupped the air – making strong, powerful wingbeats, propelling them west towards the ocean.
Towards the lands which, in Hal's baseline, only held dragons and a few hardy human tribes.
It would be a long flight, to satisfy an idle curiosity, but Hal couldn't bring himself to see a downside in that.
16.11
Captain Honor Harrington rubbed her eyes.
"That's new," she said, into the air of her day cabin.
New? Nimitz asked. I don't know about that, Dances on Clouds. I have the same number of limbs as normal.
"Stop eavesdropping, Stinker," Honor advised. "And of course I'm not talking about the limbs."
She gave her empathic partner a look, and he returned it with a cocked head and a grin.
It would take her a few minutes with the files to be sure, but Honor had the distinct feeling there would be other Loopers about. Perhaps she'd be wrong about it – perhaps – but there were certain signs.
The fact that, per this loop's version of a baseline royal decree, the Manticoran navy made full provision for any of their officers to be mentally bonded with seven foot dragons was… something of a clue, and to be honest the only one Honor really needed.
There is a plus side, you know, Nimitz added.
Honor quickly caught some of what he was thinking about – a deep sense of satisfaction about the past – and followed it up to the current status of Pavel Young. It seemed that his spectacularly foolish attempt to force himself on her had gone even worse this time around than it normally did even when she'd looped in that early, and the young noble had been unable to come up with an innocent explanation for several bite and claw marks on top of a broken arm.
I think he tried to claim he fell down the stairs on top of a dragon, Nimitz laughed, rolling over onto his back for a moment before pushing himself upright again with a flap of powerful tabby wings. So! What's the plan, Admirable Dancing?
Well, I do have a mission, Honor sent back, watching as Nimitz' tail lashed in the air. You know, getting Grayson on side.
You'll do fine at that, Nimitz waved off. I was wondering about what to do about other Loopers.
"That does depend on who they are."
"That feels like cheating, somehow," Lessa grumped, as Ramoth jumped down through the picket woods to join her. "Too big to be a fire-lizard, too small to be a dragon."
"Dragons come in all sizes," her husband Fallar Non replied. "It's just that in this case the sizes are different to normal."
Ramoth landed with a flap of golden wings, and Lessa gave her partner a scratch.
"Well, at least it shouldn't be that hard to contact the local Anchor," Fallar added. "We know who she is… there's enough dragon clans she might not have met us, though."
"Do we know she's Awake?" Lessa asked. "I'm not all that familiar with Manticore."
"If she comes back from this mission without her ship horribly beaten up and missing an eye, she's Awake," Fallar told her. "Until then, though, I think our job is making sure the Bending Branch clan is where we can leave it behind."
He frowned, looking up at Mnementh. "Actually, do you have all the usual abilities here? Treecats share most of them, though not the wings."
Yes, we can go Between, Mnementh told his partner, a little smugly. Do you know what the dragon rules were about it pre-awakening?
"Go on," Fallar invited.
We'd tell anyone who asked, Mnementh answered with a flick of the tail. You're literally the first.
16.12
F'lar blinked.
The air was full of humming, and he was sitting on the steps around the Hatching Grounds at Benden Weyr. Mnementh touched his mind, and he smiled at the reassurance from his dragon – then again, as Lessa squeezed his hand.
The Pernese Anchor had barely had time to properly get his bearings after Awakening before the first dragon broke shell down on the grounds. A comparatively small looking bronze tumbled out, looked around to get his bearings, then saw one of the boys on the hatching ground and made Impression.
Interesting, Mnementh told them both. His name is Timanahath. That's not the baseline name of the first dragon to break shell here.
"Even so, a bronze first is still a good omen," Lessa commented, then frowned. "Wait… this is the big one. Should we stop Brekke-"
"I think it's too late for that," F'lar replied. "And I think this one is going to be very unusual."
He pointed, and Lessa's jaw dropped.
Four golden eggs, surrounded by a double-handful of queenrider candidates.
Dear heart, what happened before we Awoke? Lessa asked, looking back and forth across the hatching ground sands and noticing a few more anomalies as browns and blues and greens broke shell. An egg with streaks of several different colours, the usual half-size egg for Ruth but another small one next to it…
Another eggshell broke, and murmuring rose from the stands in surprise as a red dragon came out. Both local loopers recognized her, vaguely, and a moment later Mnementh confirmed that Avatre had just (re)Impressed.
"Go to her!" someone called, a way away around the stands – just on the edge of hearing. "Dragons choose, Mirrim!"
"That's Path, at least," Lessa said. "That is normal."
"Not normal for the hidebounds," F'lar reminded her with a chuckle.
More shells broke as they talked, some dragons pairing off and others hunting around – a more particular partner in mind.
Oh, I see that St'ick is back, Mnementh noted, as a green and a blue both descended on a stocky youngster. With both his dragons.
Lessa tried not to laugh. "Oh, dear… this is going to be a hatching to remember!"
There was a sudden rush of movement on the sand as a pair of bronzes hurried to stop a girl from falling over, Diver holding Menolly's arm in gentle claws while Rocky used his neck to support her back.
The other eight dragons constituting the poor girl's wing – golden Beauty, bronze Poll, three browns, two greens and a blue – crowded around her, apologizing for the shock of a ten-dragon simultaneous Impression, and F'lar rubbed his temples. "I agree with you, Lessa, I really do… I wonder if Sebell and Piemur would be able to help her out?"
"That might be a bit difficult," Lessa replied, in a slightly cautious voice. "They're both queenriders now."
I'm unsure whether to feel smug about four queen dragons, or resigned that this whole hatching is going to go down in history for reasons only partially related to them, Ramoth sent them both. Especially since I know that Mnementh and I can't claim credit for the variant, but we're going to get the in-universe blame.
A few minutes later, it looked like perhaps the worst was over. Ruth had broken shell, aided by Jaxom, and aside from the odd further appearance by a Looper on the sands – H'cup and black Toothless, and E'gon and his blue dragon who F'lar was carefully trying not to examine too closely in case it turned out Saphira was female today – the last half-dozen Impressions had been fairly normal.
They were down to only half a dozen eggs on the sands, now, and even as they watched it became five – a girl from the Harper Hall Impressing the latest dragon to hatch, though a hysterical giggle tried to escape Lessa's lips as she realized that the girl had Impressed a blue dragon instead of a green.
Then again, did that even register today?
"Dawn and Piplup," F'lar pointed out. "The strange thing is that we've actually seen just about all of these happen at one time or another, they're just happening on the same day."
"I know," Lessa agreed. "I – oh, come on."
"That one is new," F'lar agreed, as two eggs broke almost at the same moment. The purple dragons that came out actually made eye contact with one another, winced, then turned their attention to Mnementh.
Spyro has just made Impression with Spyro, Mnementh reported, sounding highly amused. They're not especially fond of one another, either. I'd get out the popcorn if I thought it could be justified.
"I'm glad Mnementh is enjoying himself," Lessa said tartly. "What on Pern is next?"
What was next, it transpired, was Tiamat. Mnementh swept his tail around to trip up Hank's father, ensuring that Impression could take place between the young boy and his five-headed fellow Looper, and Ramoth mumbled something telepathic and unprintable about the very concept of fused loops itself.
"Two to go," F'lar noted, trying not to hold his breath in anticipation of the next hatching. "And then we have to come up with an explanation for all this. You know-"
"I know Ramoth isn't getting out of this with her dignity remotely intact," Lessa agreed. "I'm sure we can come up with something that will at least let us handle the rest of the Loop."
The last regular egg broke shell, and revealed something that wasn't a dragon at all – an alicorn, all hooves and feathers and horn.
Oh, not this again, Ramoth sighed, as the other visiting Equestrian looper somewhat sheepishly ran over to join Rarity. This is going to mean that rumour about the runner-beast again, isn't it?
Given everything that's happened today, I think the explanation might involve hard drugs, her mate suggested.
Then the final golden egg broke shell.
Oh, Mnementh gasped.
"What?" F'lar asked aloud, then stared as Brekke roused. She stepped forwards once and threw her arms around the neck of the golden dragon, and Berd alighted on the hatchling queen's back with a confused chirrup.
"Of everything we've seen today, that has never happened before," Lessa said. "F'lar – that's Wirenth."
"What," F'lar asked, flatly. "What. I mean… how?"
"You're asking that today?" Lessa retorted.
Robinton says he loves a story with a happy ending, Mnementh noted.
16.13
Laurence collapsed his telescope. "I'd say that's good weather. What do you think, first mate?"
The big black dragon raised his head, looking into the sky, and nodded. "I do think so, Captain. It seems we'll be ready to cast off."
Temeraire paused, and bent his neck again to whisper to Iskierka. "Was that all right, do you think?"
"I don't see why not," the red dragon assured him. "It was very noble."
Granby chuckled, and walked over to haul on one of the lines. "Sails to full, Captain?"
"Indeed, Mr. Granby," Laurence agreed. "Mainsails full, then set the gallants."
He watched as Granby pulled first one line then the other, the enchanted ropes slithering over one another to set the rigging in place, and chuckled wryly to himself.
"You know, when I was a captain of a ship rather than a dragon I'd have hundreds of men doing that," he said, raising his voice enough for Granby to hear. "But here, it's just yourself and the two dragons there."
"I understand that's the typical size for an adventuring party, isn't it?" Granby asked. "We are in one of those adventuring worlds, after all, or more than one of them at any rate."
"You're right, of course, Mr. Granby," Laurence agreed, and spun the wheel. The sails filled with a freshening wind out of the northeast, blowing them along downwind towards a hundred miles of deep water before the first shoal, and the Anchor lifted his head to take in the scent of the sea.
"Foretopgallants, please," he requested, and this time it was Isikerka's turn to make the token movement that started the lines moving. More sails spread, giving them more speed, and Laurence waited for them to reach their fullest speed with the mast straining against the force of the freshening wind.
Then he cut in the spelljamming helm, and the White-Winged Dragon shivered gently before rising out of the night-dark sea and into the air.
With the water resistance gone, their speed took a sudden jump, and Granby whistled in appreciation. "Quite the sight, Captain."
"Indeed, Mr. Granby," Laurence nodded. "We should be ready to switch to magical propulsion in half an hour or so."
"That should give us plenty of time," Iskierka said, her tail flicking from side to side. "Where do you think we should go?"
"I was thinking we should set course for Faerun," Laurence told her. "It's more friendly to dragons of the chromatic sort than Krynn is, and there is always something to be done there. Perhaps we might visit Icewind Dale?"
"That sounds like a fine way to spend a few months," Temeraire pronounced. "You can practice your magic, Laurence! And Mr. Granby can see about getting better with that sword."
"I must say, I do like the sound of that," Iskierka agreed. "So it's unanimous!"
"That is it," Granby said, with a warning glance at Iskierka. "Though I'd thank you to consult me first!"
"I knew you'd agree anyway," the red dragon said, wheedling him, and Laurence and Temeraire both laughed.
The White-Winged Dragon rose into the upper atmosphere, then out into space, and turned as her crew busied themselves with the jamming helm. Her sails belled out again, this time with magical force rather than the natural wind, and they set their course for the second star to the right before sitting back down on deck.
Then, as if by an invisible signal, they all began singing – Iskierka's voice rising into the tenor range, over the baritone voices of the two humans, and Temeraire's weapons-grade bass underlying it all.
Me name's Able Rogers, a shareman am I
On a three-masted schooner from Twillingate Isle
I've been the world over, north, south, east, and west
But the middle of nowhere's where I like it best!
A bubble of air enfolded them, held by the magic of the Spelljammer, and Oerth receded rapidly behind them. Dragon-paws drummed on the wooden deck, and boots thumped as the four loopers launched into the next verse.
The work it is hard and the hours are long
My spirit is willing, my back it is strong
And when the work's over then whiskey we'll pour
We'll dance with the girls upon some foreign shore!
Around them was the starry blackness of space, clouds of white sails above and rough wooden planks below. They might have felt alone, but they had one another, and that was enough.
I've sailed the wide oceans four decades or more
And ofttimes I've wondered what I do it for
I don't know the answer, it's pleasure and pain
With life to live over, I'd do it again!
With life to live over, I'd do it again!
16.14:
"This is the One Ring," Gandalf said, indicating it on the pedestal. "Sauron wants it, and with it he will cover all the lands in a second darkness!"
"Okay, I've got a plan," said the Ranger of the North. "I'm pretty sure I can destroy it in… hmm… about two hours. It can be destroyed in Mount Doom, yes?"
"That is correct," Gandalf confirmed.
"Well, then," Eragon son of Erathorn said, cracking his knuckles. "Should be a nice little trip."
"What do you plan to do?" the Wizard enquired.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir voiced.
"Oh, we're not walking," Eragon told him, and held out his arm.
A blue shape came swooping down from one of the nearby mountains, blurred with speed, then flared its wings and alighted on Eragon's forearm with finicky precision.
It was quite an impressive thing for a thirty foot long blue dragon to do.
"One does not simply fly into Mordor either," Gandalf stated firmly. "The Eagles would take us were it possible, but the Dark Lord has foul beasts of the air to aid him."
"We're not technically going to fly, either," Eragon said.
He flicked the One Ring into the air, caught it in his palm, and Saphira carried him skywards by the other arm before anyone could react.
Gandalf watched them disappear into the blue sky, heedless of the hubbub at the Council of Elrond, then shook his head.
"Bugger."
About an hour later, a dragon fell towards Arda.
I make it we're about… eighty miles up still, Eragon sent, breathing deeply and evenly with his air-supply enchantment running. Not long before we start having to shed velocity, though.
I agree, Saphira stated.
She twisted, exhaling hard and taking a breath from Eragon's air supply, then wrapped her wings around her rider.
The air got thicker, and their arc got steeper. Compression heating began to form a glow around them, a layer of plasma drawing a line pointing into the sky, and blue Saphira's wings kept her friend and partner and dearest love safe and sound.
Their speed dropped, slowly at first and then hard as they decelerated, and Saphira squinted against the flames as they fell lower and lower. Her tail flagged in the wind, correcting their arc a little, then they were past the worst of the heat and the ground was fast-approaching.
Saphira's wings relaxed, letting Eragon clamber over her riding harness to reach the saddle, and then they snapped out and bit the harsh wind to steer.
A little to the left, Eragon judged, looking at the brick he was holding. A little more… and… now!
He dropped the brick, and Saphira's wings crackled as she snatched them out of the high-speed dive. Their angle slowly went up towards the horizontal, then faster, then all at once they pulled up – bottoming out about fifty feet over the very peak of Barad-Dur.
Behind them, a brick with a ring tied to it fell into the lava pit of Amon Amarth.
And the Dark Lord Sauron was undone.
Saphira circled Rivendell once, then came down to land on Lord Elrond's lawn.
"Told you," Eragon said, stepping off her back. "Turns out Mordor has no roof. Who knew?"
16.15 (Arda/alternate WW2):
"Well, gentlemen," Winston Churchill began, frowning down at the maps. "I fear that this may be our darkest hour."
He looked up at Admiral Pound, head of the Royal Navy. "Where did they come from, Dudley?"
"We're just not sure, Prime Minister," Pound replied. "We thought we had the German building program down to a 'T' – we knew they were cheating on displacement, but I wouldn't have thought they could slip a battleship past us. Let alone… well, ten."
"And the cruisers to screen them," Churchill added. "Well, I am sure Herr Hitler will learn that the British Empire is more than even just the navy; we will fight them on the beaches and everywhere else they may be found."
"We may have to do just that," General Dill frowned. "I assume that with that many ships they can cover a crossing?"
Pound nodded gravely.
"Then that means we will have to repulse an invasion."
"Ah..."
The voice was none of the men who were supposed to be there, and the speaker raised his hands to show he was unarmed as he stepped out into the light.
"How the devil did you get in here?" Pound demanded.
"That's not really important – well, not important at the moment, that is," said the newcomer. "But I think I have a solution for your problem."
Churchill examined the man up and down.
"Gentlemen," he said, taking charge of the meeting. "I feel that we should listen to what this man has to say, if only because we may then ask him how he found his way into this meeting..."
Dill looked annoyed, but nodded.
"And should I call out the guard?" he added.
"Of course, General," Churchill replied. "Of course. But only those who may be discreet, mind."
Well?
Well, you'll have your chance, Bilbo replied. It took quite a lot of fast-talking to convince them of the idea, and I'm afraid I had to demonstrate more than a little magic.
Pah, Smaug muttered down their mental link. Of course you had to demonstrate magic. But there's clearly magic or something involved, and it's no looper who's bothered to ping us…
Bilbo nodded, half his attention on the maps, and he sent the pictures to Smaug to keep him updated.
Remember, the human looper added. You give them a chance to retreat first.
Of course, Smaug agreed. One pass before I start to attack – and any ship which turns for port is safe while it flees. I relish in the chance for victory, not mindless slaughter of those who are fleeing.
He snorted in his cave, and smoke oozed through his veil to rise into the air above the White Cliffs of Dover. Actually, I'm surprised you're letting me do this at all.
It's a product of the unique circumstances, the restrictions you've accepted, and the fact you've been very, very good, Bilbo teased. Also, of course, the fact you could probably carbonize me.
Always a useful consideration in a discussion with a dragon, Smaug nodded. Especially from the tasty species.
Four days later, the Grosse Flotte sailed.
Smaug met them twenty miles to the east of Cleaver Bank.
The great dragon pumped his wings once, leathery surfaces snapping in the wind, and considered the fleet laid out below him – two dozen cruisers and a destroyer screen thrown forwards like the spume on a wave, ahead of the heavy battleships in line abreast and with a pair of battlecruisers forming the scouting element on the northern flank.
He trimmed his angle, then saw a sudden burst of activity. Flak guns began to snap and bark, throwing up heavy shells which burst with little red flashes and left clouds of smoke behind.
Smaug stooped, folding in his wings, and descended towards the sea – aiming for a point a mile or two south of the left flank of the German battleship line. His speed rose as he dropped, getting faster and faster, then he opened his wings again and pulled out of his power dive about fifty feet above the surface of the sea.
The shells were flying straight at him, now, and some of the lighter flak hit him in the nose or the shoulder or on the leading edges of his wings. Then he was close enough, and unleashed his Dragonfear.
All the firing went wild at once, almost as though a switch had been thrown. Supernaturally-enhanced terror, the sheer influence of the presence of the Dragon Dread himself, rolled out in front of him – hitting the Moltke, then the Steinmetz, then the Bismarck. It reached out far enough to touch the screening cruisers, as well, and one of them broke formation – turning out of line to stay as far away from Smaug as possible.
The big red-gold dragon rolled, whipping over the mast of the Moltke at about four feet of clearance, and continued his high-speed pass down the Kriegsmarine line from one end to the other.
He hadn't panicked the command crew of the main battle-line yet, but their firing was definitely going wilder. Smaug chuckled, the deep notes rolling out across the whole arena of battle, and then pulled up with a mighty wingbeat that sent water rippling visibly out from below him like the trough dug by the gases from a hot shell.
Do you think that's enough? Smaug asked Bilbo. Does it count as a pass at this point?
Well… Bilbo began.
Please tell me you're not using that Pernese definition of a pass, Smaug demanded. I am not waiting while they shell me for fifty years. I am not in need of a massage.
He rose through the clouds and then flipped, wings drawn in for a moment as he whirled around to point downwards, and was just about to pass back through the cloud layer in the other direction when Bilbo replied.
Go ahead, oh chiefest and greatest of calamities, he said, and Smaug grinned.
Sometimes, he really knew why he kept that Hobbit around.
Then he exhaled, a lance of focused Dragonfire which cut a hole right through the Seydlitz a little way forward of the base of the mast. The attack lanced straight through the German ship's horizontal armour, missing all the magazines, and steam erupted up through the hole as a terrible clatter announced that the battleship's powerful engines were beating themselves to pieces on account of all the missing components.
Levelling out, Smaug sent a much more dispersed wave of fire over the next ship. Not enough to pierce the armour, this time, but it set all the exposed fittings on fire and the battleship veered out of line – though, rising to get a view of the whole of the battle, Smaug saw that most of the German battleships were turning either port or starboard to deploy into two lines instead of forming a single line abreast.
It was good tactics, really. He was vaguely impressed.
Five minutes later, Smaug had disabled three more battleships – each with a screaming dive attack and a spike of incandescent flame that punched right through the deck armour while missing every single magazine.
None of the German captains were actually stupid, he knew, and they had to be well aware that the only way four such fire spikes would be so nearly identical was that Smaug was doing it deliberately.
He wasn't just beating their armour. He was doing so with pinpoint precision, and they couldn't stop him-
Smaug's train of thought was interrupted when a fifteen inch shell hit him in the face.
The squadron formed of Bismarck, Tirpitz and Steinmetz had finally managed to get enough distance to fire their main guns at low angle, and their gunnery at least was excellent.
As far as they were concerned, the enormous dragon had vanished entirely inside the blast of the shell hit… then swept the cloud of smoke and fragments aside with a single beat of his massive wings. And as the next shell came whistling in, he caught it in both foreclaws and ate it.
All firing stopped, as everyone who could see on all the remaining ships just stared.
Taking advantage of the moment, Smaug whirled around – showing his contempt for the three modern battleships shelling him – and instead spat a stream of red-white flame that punched right through the Moltke's belt armour… and through the whole of the inside of the ship… and came out the other side, still with enough heat to send up a great plume of white steam.
That did it, and the fleet morale collapsed. Within ten seconds every single ship was striking their colours or turning for the mainland, and Smaug considered his handiwork before alighting on the mast of the Seydlitz.
"I think I will keep this one," he announced.
In a zoo in Indiana, a possum twitched his ears.
So far, he'd worked out he was in the nineteen-forties, and that it seemed a bit like baseline – Hub baseline, not the baseline of his actual home loop, since the baseline of his home loop was a bit… malleable… to really apply a term like that to it.
But then a dragon had, apparently, eaten an entire German fleet, and now James T. Kirk wasn't sure what to think about the whole thing.
Still. On the plus side, he was at least near Iowa, and probably would have been in a zoo in his home state if his home state had discovered the zoo by this point.
16.16
F'lar blinked, his surroundings changing in a moment, and looked around him.
Mnementh? he asked, reaching for his companion, and Mnementh's mind caressed his own - reassuring his longtime friend and life partner that they were together.
F'lar was in his weyr at Benden, and so much was normal for a loop start... but something was nagging at him, something different to how so many of his past loops had begun.
Can you bespeak Zair? he requested, and Mnementh replied promptly.
Yes, the big bronze answered. Well done. And Simanith, as well, though he seems a little confused as to why I suddenly bespoke him.
"I never do remember to thank Robinton enough when he does this," F'lar said out loud, getting up out of bed with a heave. "My father is alive..."
Then he paused.
...Mnementh? he asked. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?
Mnementh bent his neck to see into their shared weyr chamber.
...that's a computer, the bronze said, baffled. And I've got a big keyboard over here as well.
F'lar touched one of the keys, and the holographic projector lit up - showing a cheerful welcome display, very user-friendly and with half-a-dozen commonly used profiles available. The bronze rider selected one, and both he and Mnementh watched in silence as news items scrolled up the screen.
One about a new black crystal's installation on Deneb going off without a hitch. Another which reported on an archaeological dig not far outside Jerhattan. Then a puff piece about a famous Altairian celebrity having just revealed that her three-month seclusion from the public eye had been the time taken to raise her fire-lizard, a bronze by the name of Flicker.
"...what the sharding hell?" F'lar asked.
Zair's wings outside came as a surprise to both of them, and R'ton jumped down into F'lar's weyr without waiting for an invitation.
"It's good to see you've woken up at last," the older rider said. "How's your morning?"
"Not bad," F'lar replied. "Nice weather for it, Mnementh is in good health, what did you do!?"
"Well, it was all thanks to you," R'ton replied. "Thanks to your help I have that lovely set of Between coordinates for the Jerhattan Senate building, and I just popped over there about... oh, must be four decades ago now... as soon as Zair was flying Between, and let them know we're a thing."
He chuckled. "F'lon's face was a picture, let me tell you... and the FSP was quite glad to know we were around as well, they'd thought we were one of about a dozen inhabited worlds that got life-stripped by what we know as Thread."
F'lar shook his head. "Are you constitutionally incapable of not changing the world?"
"I could say the same to you," R'ton replied. "Oh, by the way, I leave you in charge of the matter of the Oldtimers - I think they're going to be even more surprised than you are."
"Thanks," the anchor chuckled. "I've only been here a few minutes - do you know how Lessa is?"
"Alas, she appears not to be Awake," R'ton said with an apologetic shrug. "Zair has been checking in on her weekly at least since she began to hear dragons, and he did it just now - she wasn't surprised, but no sign of her being Awake either."
F'lar considered that, then shrugged. "Well... I suppose I'm hardly unused to having to win Lessa over again."
A horrible thought struck him. "Wait... if Pern is part of the FSP-"
"Provisional member," R'ton corrected him. "But that's where we're aiming."
"-then does that mean dragonriders are a subject of media attention?"
"Oh, I should say so," R'ton agreed. "I've been interviewed a little over six hundred times so far. Unfortunately, that does mean there's about an even chance that when Ramoth rises it'll be televised..."
16.17
Hiccup blinked.
Well, that was interesting, he thought.
Reaching into his Pocket, he pulled out a writing stick and a PADD and began busily taking notes.
Mostly, but not entirely, about food.
I see we have all our various crazy Looper powers back, Toothless noted, his mental voice reaching Hiccup as he scribbled. What do you think best describes that particular null loop?
Full of foodstuffs, Hiccup replied. Also, it's kind of nice that despite it being a null loop in a completely different world to the sort we're used to, you still had wings on top of legs and we still had a mind link.
Toothless' snort carried through their Impression bond. If you can call that a mind link. It barely even worked properly from orbit down to the planet's surface.
Hiccup smiled. Perhaps, but you can't deny that it was kind of relaxing.
Maybe a bit too relaxing, Arii, Toothless sent him teasingly, using a term from the loop they'd just ended. I mean, you're busy taking notes, but there is a dragon attack going on.
Hiccup looked up from taking notes – the instinctive reaction of a longtime Looper to experiencing a new loop destination – and frowned slightly, then paled.
"Oh, yeah, right, the Viking thing…"
You spend just three decades as a therapist and forget about the Viking thing, Toothless chuckled. What would your father think?
Yeah, we're never telling him, Hiccup decided, then gave a mental shrug and called Framherja. The soul-bonded bow formed in his hand, and he jogged out the door to the Chief's House before taking a stance and shooting a Monstrous Nightmare with an electric stun blast.
I don't know about you, Toothless went on, as Hiccup did his best to try and look ridiculously cool while also sending all the stunned dragons somewhere they wouldn't actually fall into Viking hands, but there's one thing I'm enjoying about being back in my normal body. Well, two things. Three things. Three things and a lizard.
You stole that from the Doctor, Hiccup griped.
That's your opinion, Toothless told him. Anyway, the first thing is that I can actually fly again – those wings I had before were no good. The second thing is that I don't have hands any more, so I can legitimately ask you to do everything.
You do have to carry me around, though, Hiccup pointed out.
True, Toothless agreed.
Hiccup nocked another fizzing lightning arrow, looked around, then let it slack off and dissipate now that the remaining dragons had all left.
The other bits are that I now can't have tangled up fur, because I don't have fur, and that I can once more breathe fire, Toothless concluded. So, you see, Hiccup-
"Hiccup!" Stoick called, leaving Hiccup slightly mixed up between the mental conversation and the physical one. "What in Thor's name was that?"
"Oh, uh… the bow?" Hiccup asked, slightly awkwardly. "It's, you know, a little something I've been working on…"
The main thing we've been working on the last few decades is learning how to give someone mental health therapy in their dreams, Toothless interjected. Admittedly that might be just what your dad needs.
If we went into his room at night to do it, he'd probably grab you by the tail and beat you against the walls, floor and ceiling, Hiccup countered, as Stoick tried to compliment his work but ran up against the problem that he had no idea how to make a good bow. Without waking up.
Point taken.
And besides, we learned other things too, Hiccup pointed out. That pattern-sense thing was fiddly, but I'd kind of like to see if I can work on it… the problem is telling it apart from the usual Looper thing of having seen something before.
Being a Looper is having spoilers, Toothless said, sending a mental snigger Hiccup's way.
16.18
"Hey, Hiccup?" Astrid asked. "Mind if I ask you a serious question?"
"Considering that I'm a Viking, I know exactly what I'm supposed to say to that," Hiccup replied. "But speaking as a human, I'm also nervous."
"Nervous, huh?" Astris snickered. "The big brave Chief of Berk, nervous?"
Hiccup shook his head, holding up a hand. "No, no, no. I'm not the chief, not yet, and hopefully not this time at all."
"Well, it's… that's kind of related to what I wanted to ask," Astrid said. "I never really bothered learning about it before now, but… what exactly happens with Zephyr and Nuffink? And with Dart, Pouncer, and Ruffrunner? With the loops, I mean… I know they're the same ones every time, but…"
Hiccup nodded, and grabbed a stone from the soil next to him before flicking it over the edge of the cliff.
"I don't know, Astrid," he told her. "Some Loopers have baseline children who are born after the loop begins and those children eventually start looping, but others… I've known F'Lessan for ages now, and he was born after the start of his loop, but he has kids too. And S'Lan is the same every time, but he's not Looping."
He leaned back. "I just don't know."
"That's kind of a relief," Astrid admitted. "Not… you know, but just that you don't know."
She lay back as well, and began toying with Hiccup's hair. "I've always been the impulsive one of the two of us. But you've always been the one who knows what's going on, and… with how long you've been looping, I'm willing to bet you're way stronger."
"Astrid, you're my – well, you're why I have the confidence I do," Hiccup told her, rolling over to face towards her. "You believed in me first. And you haven't stopped, and…"
He chuckled. "And, really, a lot of what I do is educated guesses at first."
Astrid smiled as well. "You just can't let on how much of it is guesswork, right?"
"Half the secret of being a Chief, I think," Hiccup told her. "Of course, that's a guess, as well, so… who knows?"
"Oh, if you'd been a Chief's Wife, you'd know that everyone thinks you have a plan," Astrid winked. "They just argue about if it's a good one."
She got to her feet. "Speaking of which, what's the plan to introduce everyone in Berk to the idea of dragons you don't attack?"
"I did have an idea about that…" Hiccup admitted. "Hey, Toothless, what do you think of a modified 47?"
Could work, Toothless answered, rolling over from where he'd been lying on a sunny rock. What kind of modification?
"Combine it with a 25?" Astrid suggested.
"Sounds like a plan," Hiccup nodded.
After a long pause, Stormfly raised her head.
Were you just giving a demonstration of how to act like a chief and stuff? The Nadder asked. Because I've never heard of a 25 or a 47, modified or not.
They're numbers, keep up, Toothless informed her.
"But yeah, they don't actually mean anything," Hiccup confessed. "Though I did come up with an idea..."
Stoick laughed, and downed a mug of mead. "And don't think I missed that, Spitelout!" he said. "That spear throw was a thing of beauty, sent off the Zippleback as clean as you please!"
"It wasn't what I was trying for, but it worked all right," Spitelout chuckled. "You know how it is, mighty leader – and mighty is the word, all right!"
"Hey, now, you'll embarrass me," the Chief said, then stopped – and held up his hand. "Everyone quiet!"
The carousing and drinking stopped, except for one faint doi-oi-oi-oiiiing as a lyre bounced on the floor. That ended with a faint krik as the owner picked it up, and then there was silence.
And a faint boom in the distance.
Jumping to his feet, Stoick strode for the door.
Once outside, Stoick squinted out to sea. The light was fading a little as the day slowly slipped towards night, and he listened closely for the next sound – another faint boom – before turning to look in the direction the sound had come from.
And stared.
There were little flickers of light, blue and whirling orange and actinic-bright, like dragonfire in the night, but they were miles out to sea… and while Stoick could see the darting specks which seemed to be the source, there was also a much larger shape. A dragon, certainly, but one he could see from here.
"Sound the alarm!" he called out. "A dragon! The largest dragon you've ever seen!"
"I've seen some pretty big dragons," Gobber said, stumping up, then did a double-take. "Okay, you're right. Guess you'd know, being the Vast and all."
Stoick grabbed a convenient axe, then – as the bustle of the village getting ready for a raid flowed around him – just watched, trying to see what was going on.
There was no mistaking it. There was a battle going on out there… a battle between dragons.
They were still a few miles off, but dragonfire was distinctive enough that he was starting to get some idea of what was approaching. There was a Nadder, certainly, those streams of flame were easy enough to recognize, but then the orange tornado-blasts were much harder to identify.
"What do you think?" he asked Gobber. "The orange one?"
"Stormcutter," Fishlegs supplied, making both men look down in surprise. "They've got a tornado flame pattern, it's the only known dragon with that trait. And they've got four wings, look."
Stoick gave Gobber a slight nod of approval, then decided to see what else Fishlegs had to say. "And the big one?"
"There's no known information," Fishlegs answered. "It's not a Bewilderbeest, those don't have wings…"
A blue flare lit up the sky to the south, then a crackling flash of lightning that had all three burly Vikings throwing up their hands involuntarily.
"Hey, isn't that what Skrill do?" Ruffnut asked, stopping next to them.
"Nah, it's Skrills," Tuffnut countered. "You know, plurals and stuff."
"Shut up, it's Skrill!" Ruffnut insisted.
Just before it could devolve into a fistfight, Stoick waved his own fist at both twins.
"Make yourself useful and get some water buckets," he said. "And find where the other children have gone."
"Hey, the others might be children but I'm not," Snotlout announced. "And nor is Astrid."
"Where is Astrid, anyway?" Gobber said. "Not seen hide nor hair of her nor Hiccup today."
One of the dragons darting and wheeling in the distance suddenly pulled up, flaring wings made tiny and toylike with distance, and rose straight up into the air for several seconds. It shone blue against the sky, then flipped over and dropped into a screaming power dive.
The Nadder and the Stormcutter both shot one more blast of fire before clearing out of the way, and just as the shining blue dragon pulled up from its power dive into a level charge straight at the big one there was a familiar screech – one that echoed around the bay.
"Night Fury!" someone yelped. "Get down!"
Stoick was too busy watching the battle. A brilliant blue explosion lit up the sky, and the giant dragon practically stopped short in mid-air from the sheer force of the blast – crashing into the water, before hammering at the air again with big wings and rising back into the sky.
The blue light faded, but the black shape – the Night Fury – banked around in a sharp turn with its wingtip nearly touching the water, then rolled and came flying straight towards Berk.
Stoick adjusted his grip on his axe, ready to fight if the Night Fury got close enough or dodge out of the way if it spat one of those blue bolts at him, but half his attention was on just looking at the mysterious Night Fury for the first time.
It had a very lumpy back for some reason.
Then all of a sudden he recognized the lump, and in the next three seconds the dragon landed right in front of him.
"Hey, uh, Dad?" Hiccup said, sounding embarrassed and wearing clothes that had been hastily dyed black somehow. "Um, it's kind of a long story, but I found mom, and a dragon, and actually I found a lot of dragons, and one of them really doesn't like me or mom or Toothless here, or Astrid really, and it's why all the dragons keep attacking, and we kind of need to borrow Snotlout and the others and the dragons Gobber has in the cage, right now?"
The enormous dragon roared, prompting both Hiccup and the Night Fury to look around, and Hiccup groaned. "Oh boy… come on, bud, I guess she needs another shock."
Stoick kept staring until the Night Fury had taken off – still with Hiccup on its back, now pulling on a black woollen coif – and whirled to engage the giant enemy dragon again.
Then the Fury spat flame, and flew right into the fireball, and both dragon and boy vanished.
"...well, now we know why nobody's seen the bloody things before," Gobber observed. "Kind of good to know, that..."
AN:
As noted, some of this set was written before The Hidden World came out, while others were written mere days ago.
There'll be more along fairly soon, most likely.
16.1: First you try and guess what's coming.
16.2: Leman is prone to making certain allowances. And silly names for battleships.
16.3: And then it hits you all at once... and then you start using the new abilities for stupid dragon tricks.
16.4: An important nomenclatural issue.
16.5: And then you get to the point where you fix the main plot.
16.6: And then you talk about it with the wife. Or ex.
16.7: Meanwhile, on Pern... (Some of this snip is designated to not be posted, but it's needed as a setup slash explanation for The Most Ridiculous Hatching.)
16.8: Zair is a very determined dragon.
16.9: And then you tell your parents. And show off.
16.10: We've all had modern-tech AUs, Hal, stop being confused.
16.11: Crossover with the Honor Harrington series, naturally.
16.12: I went back and forth between Timandahath and Saphroneth. Aside from that... well, The Most Ridiculous Hatching!
16.13: This shanty fits well enough that I felt I had to.
16.14: Yes, they could have gone Between. This was more fun.
16.15: You can tell he's reformed because he didn't just go and do it. To the US Navy.
16.16: A different sort of modern-tech AU, perhaps...
16.17: The result of a visit to the Peltedverse.
16.18: That's how that works. And this is how Stoic gets confused.