Toothless was entirely happy with this turn of events, now that he knew what was going on. The weird feeling of having his prosthetic fiddled with wasn't from some nefarious plot of Astrid or Dagur's and it wasn't even nothing, it was the perfect way to get on the good side of one of the Chiefs Maour was supposed to talk to today!
That was a little cynical, but Toothless didn't care. Maour had been discouraged by the admittedly unimpressive conversation with Mogadon, and this was a good way to bounce back from that. 'She's Aldir's daughter?' he asked happily, just to be sure. He definitely recognized this little girl from the previous night's round of introductions. Hopefully, Maour would make the connection.
"Yes, she is," Maour murmured. "I just said so."
'I was not listening,' Toothless flippantly replied, waving that little detail away. 'You know what we should do with her?'
'Throw her down the mountain?' Einfari suggested. Everyone who could hear her stopped what they were doing and stared at her. 'I'm kidding, obviously. It's also obvious that we should make friends with her and use that to approach the human Maour is supposed to be getting in good with.'
Toothless huffed and turned his attention back to Kim, who had eyes for him and him alone. He didn't know why she liked him and didn't even seem to care about the other two Night Furies present, but it was probably best he be the one to interact with her. Einfari was not as experienced with humans, and Nóttreiði was an all-around bad idea when it came to putting him and humans together. Though he had handled finding Kim far better than Toothless would have expected.
'Ask her if she wants to sit with us,' Toothless suggested. 'With me, specifically.'
"My brother wants to know if you want to sit with him," Maour offered, translating for him. "We're watching the fights, but-"
"Yes," Kim decided, hurrying over to Toothless. "He won't bite?"
Toothless showed his teeth and deliberately sheathed them.
"He's tame?" Kim asked, seeming to have second thoughts now that she was being invited, not sneaking a touch. What the logic behind that was, Toothless would never know. Now would surely be more likely to be safe than before.
"No," Maour replied. "No more than you are."
"I don't have claws," Kim retorted.
"He's not tame, he's friendly," Maour replied, getting back to the point. "Like you. So you are safe, but only because he doesn't hurt people for no reason, and doesn't want to hurt you. And the peace, but that doesn't make any difference right now."
Toothless patted a spot beside him with his tail. Maour had been sitting there, but it was all for a good cause.
Kim, after a final moment of hesitation, ran up and plopped herself down beside him. She was full of energy, for sure. Courage, too, though it came and went if one judged by her actions so far.
Toothless returned his eyes to the fighting on the ships, for Maour's benefit…
Actually, he would rather keep at least one eye on the human sitting right next to him. She might do something he needed to see. 'Maour, are you watching any of this fighting?'
"No," Maour replied, "so as long as somebody keeps an eye on Astrid and Dagur, which I think Einfari and Heather are doing, you don't need to watch."
'Good.' Toothless looked down at the little human girl beside him. 'I think I am going to need all of my attention.'
Maour had to laugh at some of the things Toothless and Kim got up to in the hour before the small tournament between chiefs ended. He hadn't really known his brother was good with children, never having a chance to see it.
At that, Toothless might not have known either. But by the way he so easily played with the girl, who lost all reluctance within minutes of sitting down next to Toothless, batting at her and eventually letting her chase him around the ring of logs surrounding the unlit bonfire, was very telling.
That was good, both for now and for later. Maour had not forgotten that at some point soon they would have two younger siblings to help care for. He didn't know if he would be any good at that, so it was reassuring to see that Toothless would be a natural. Between them, they could do anything, covering for each other's shortcomings.
That, however, was for later. For now, Maour tried to put his mind on what he and Toothless were here for. They needed to get Aldir's interest, and they needed to ensure the alliance Maour had entered into with Bertha became as strong as possible. Mogadon was probably not going to enter into it unless Bertha could do some persuading, and Maour didn't know how Bertha had done in approaching the Rockbreakers. The only other tribe they had deemed both likely to want to join and desirable to have join was the Waxears.
Maour needed to do this right. He needed to bring in at least one tribe. It would not be good if he failed on both, even if Bertha was probably succeeding with her side of things. His people needed some sort of buffer between themselves and Astrid or Dagur. It was up to him to get them one, here where it was actually possible to do so without violating any of the rules he had agreed to around the secrecy of his home.
So, when the fighting ended, Dagur apparently cheating more effectively than Alvin in the deciding bout, Maour made a decision. "Kim, your father is coming off of the ship now."
"So?" Kim asked petulantly, stopping to respond. Toothless slowed to a halt on the other side of the ring of logs, panting a little. Kim had gotten the idea to run through the circle instead of around, and in doing so had made their little chase a lot less one-sided.
"Do you want us to go down and see him when he gets back?" Maour asked, hoping the answer would not be a flat-out 'no'."
"No," Kim declared. "He'll just tell me to get away from the dragon, and I'll be in trouble. Everything else here is boring, anyway. I don't know why I came."
Maour didn't know why either. It was odd to the extreme to bring a young girl to something like this. She was the only person under the age of sixteen on the island by a fair margin, being at his guess no older than ten years of age, and possibly younger if how she acted was any indication.
'How about if she rode a dragon down to meet him?' Toothless suggested.
"I don't think she can work the prosthetic," Maour replied. What made Toothless think that would work?
'I'd be on paw, of course,' Toothless clarified. 'I don't have a death wish, if she could even get us into the air.'
"Right," Maour agreed, feeling a little foolish for not getting that immediately. "That could work."
"What could work? And why do you talk to him like that?" Kim asked impatiently. "I can't hear anything, so I know he doesn't really talk. You don't have to fake it."
Maour decided not to engage her on that misconception right now. She was not someone he had to convince of Toothless talking. "We were wondering whether you would like to ride Toothless down to meet your father. He and I need to talk, so he would find out we had met you in any case. That way, you can… make an impression." He was counting on her liking the idea of shocking her father more than worrying about his subsequent reaction to how she was going to show up.
"That sounds great!" Kim cheered, rushing right over to Toothless, who had walked up to them as they spoke. She clambered onto his back with absolutely no instruction, sitting sideways in the saddle after discovering it was too big for her to ride normally.
'Are all small humans this erratic and bold?' Einfari asked as Toothless took a few steps forward, intentionally jostling his new weight to be sure she could hold on.
"No, but some are," Heather replied. "This one's odd. I can't tell whether she's brave or just doesn't think before acting, let alone her age."
So Maour wasn't alone in not being able to figure out her age. Good to know. He waved a hand at the three spectators and followed Toothless down the hill. Aldir would be coming out of the crowd soon, and they would see him before he saw them, given he would probably be looking for a little girl, not three Night Furies.
Maour, along with Toothless, Kim, Heather, and the two Nótts, found Aldir, Chief of the Waxears, standing alone on the hillside, watching the still-present crowd around the ship. He didn't notice them, being more preoccupied with the ship.
Kim, once they were close enough, was not content to go unnoticed. "Look at me!" she cried, waving her arms in the air as Toothless steadily walked down the hillside toward Aldir. Maour was by his side, ready to try and catch Kim if she fell off, and the others were watching their back and flanks. Best to not let down their guard, even now.
"Kim?" Aldir yelled, turning and seeing them. "What are…" He trailed off, seeing what Kim was doing.
Maour was encouraged to see that Aldir didn't immediately reach for his sword or call for help, or even tell Kim to get down and run. The man instead cracked a wry, worried smile, and met them halfway down the hill.
"I made a new friend," Kim announced defiantly as he slowed to a stop a few steps away, down the hillside. She had to look down at her own father thanks to the combined boosts in height afforded by her position higher on the hill and by sitting on Toothless's back.
"Yes, you seem to have done exactly that," Aldir agreed. "But I remember asking you to not approach the Night Fury without me. We were going to ask if you could pet it," and at this, he shot Maour a quick embarrassed glance, "later. Tomorrow, maybe. Not today, and certainly not while I was busy with Chiefly duties."
"I got bored," Kim explained as if that was all the reason she needed. "He's nice."
"I see that," Aldir agreed, "as you are not dead. I'm sorry…"
"Svarturflugmaður," Maour supplied. He had wanted the Chiefs to use his formal name, as that was the one strangers were supposed to use.
"Svarturflugmaður," Aldir repeated. "I was going to approach you about whether it was safe for my daughter to…" He gestured helplessly at his daughter, who was still on Toothless's back. "Well, not even that. I guess it is safe."
"Totally, as long as she asks first," Maour confirmed. He wouldn't mention how she had originally approached them. There was no harm done, and he had no reason to want Kim in trouble with her father, or said father in a bad mood. "This is actually convenient. I was going to seek you out today anyway."
"Were you? About what?" Aldir seemed content to let his daughter remain on Toothless's back for the time being, which was another point in the man's favor. He didn't seem all that bothered by the dragons in front of him as long as he was assured they weren't hostile. Of course, that could just be a front put up to preserve his image.
"You said your village is cursed by Thor?" That was pretty much the entirety of the plan he had devised while waiting for Aldir to come back onto safe ground. Bring the man's daughter to him safe and sound, and ask after the weird request he had made the night before.
'Who is Thor?' Einfari asked curiously.
"Thor is definitely displeased with us, and always has been, yes," Aldir replied. "Do you know something that can help us?"
"I don't even know what you mean by displeased," Maour admitted. "But I'm curious. What makes you think that?" There might not be a reason, knowing how superstitious Vikings were.
"Lightning." Aldir pointed at the currently clear sky. "Every single storm, at least one bolt strikes the village somewhere. But that's nothing. Sometimes, Thor gets really mad, and we have a storm of lightning like nobody outside of our village has ever seen. I was off-island at the time, but the most recent such storm was less than two years ago, and they strike at least once a decade, for as long as anyone can remember."
"When you say like nobody has ever seen, what do you mean?" Maour was interested now.
"Bolts raining down like, well, rain. Balls of light floating through the air, passing through walls, and sometimes exploding. Also, there is no thunder at all. That kind of storm is not natural."
"Sounds like a Skrill to me," Heather supplied, breaking her silence. "Skrill lightning doesn't have any thunder to go with it."
'It… you know,' Toothless hummed thoughtfully, 'she's right, it doesn't. How did I not notice that?'
"A Skrill? I've never seen such a legendary dragon. And why would it attack us?" Aldir shook his head. "I'm thinking Thor, still. Dragons do not attack once a decade and steal no food in the process."
"You should at least give us the facts before making up your mind," Heather objected. "What does your village look like? Do your people do or have anything other tribes don't? What's your island like?"
"Lass, you speak like dragons will use reason in the first place," Aldir exclaimed.
'This is becoming a tiring issue,' Einfari growled. 'Can we just gather all of these simpletons and educate them all at once, to be done with it?'
Nóttreiði, who was busy watching their rear, growled. 'Or just stop trying to interact with them.'
"They can and do," Heather replied, ignoring the side comments from the Nótts. "And it's more likely than Thor taking offense at some random village and never even letting on what's making him mad."
"We built our village on the bottom of a circular valley, right next to two steep mountains, made of a slate of some sort," Aldir replied, evidently deciding to humor her. "Our island is mostly rock, and pretty much every patch of farmable land is used for farming. But we have plenty of iron, mined from the mountains. We build the frames of our huts out of the stuff, we have so much."
"There's nothing there that helps decide it either way," Heather admitted sourly. "But your big storms have no thunder, and Skrill draw lightning from the sky and redirect it with no thunder. The connection is obvious."
"I'm not saying it's not possible." Aldir seemed a little less skeptical. "But why?"
"Maybe they want the island," Maour offered. "Dragons have no trouble getting food or water, but a good place to live is less simple. That sounds like a place with a lot of storms and not much to accidentally set aflame."
"Aye, we do have plenty of normal storms, and the island is said to always have been that way. We hardly ever get more than two days in a row of clear skies."
'Skrill draw from storms, so a place like that could be a stronghold,' Nóttreiði suggested once Einfari had translated. 'Unlimited power in one's home seems like a valuable advantage.'
"It's probably Skrill seeking to take the island, then," Maour summarized. "That would be your main problem." The whole 'village is struck every single storm' issue could be chalked up to there being so many storms in the first place.
"It'd be fitting, given the Skrill are the symbol of the Berserkers," Aldir muttered. "But how do we fight them? We can't even see them."
"Well…" Maour shrugged his shoulders. "I'll let you know if I figure that out. We've had our own problems with Skrill, and they're no joke, even for us." He saw a way to wrap things around to the reason they were speaking in the first place. "Neither are the Berserkers. Bertha and I have a proposal for you tonight if you'd like to hear it. One that benefits all of us."
"A proposal…" Aldir eyed Heather and the dragons around Maour. "Aye, I'll be sure to hear it. Troubling times. I take it you weren't on the ship?"
"No, we were not," Maour confirmed.
"Then you didn't hear Dagur's victory speech," Aldir remarked darkly. "Dangerous times, these, and some of us don't want to throw our tribe at an impossibly strong enemy. Fair fights are better. Would this proposal make any hypothetical fight fairer?"
Maour stopped himself from jumping for joy, but only barely. "Yes, it might. Hypothetically. More than that, you'll have to wait for tonight to hear."
"I will definitely be there," Aldir agreed. "Kim, come on, we should go."
Kim crossed her arms, still sitting on Toothless's back. "I don't want to."
"If you come with me now, I'll ask Svarturflugmaður if you can… ride the dragon… again tomorrow," Aldir bargained, sounding like he knew just how uncomfortable a position he was in at the moment. Most Viking fathers would just order their daughter off of Toothless, or take her off by force when she refused. Aldir didn't seem to think the first would work and wasn't about to risk the second angering Toothless.
'I sense an opportunity here,' Toothless remarked, before looking at Aldir, nodding, and unceremoniously dumping Kim out of the saddle. She landed easily on the soft grass and shot him a look of outraged betrayal. 'Tomorrow, if she's good.'
Maour stifled a laugh. "Svarturkappi says she's welcome to find him tomorrow if she wants." He left out the part about her being good, as Aldir might have taken that as Toothless usurping his position and ordering around his daughter. Viking chiefs could be touchy about that sort of thing.
Aldir's face slowly went white as he tried to reason through what had just happened. Maour could guess at his exact train of thought. The 'tame' dragon had acted in response to his request without any sort of signal from Maour, and that meant said dragon understood human speech. That white face was the face of someone shown just how little they knew about the world.
"Great!" Kim exclaimed, entirely oblivious to her father's discomfort.
"Let's go," Aldir managed, catching her hand and leading her away. He looked back over his shoulder several times as he left.
"He might be the most reasonable Chief I've ever met," Heather announced. "That went really well."
'Aside from finding out one of our potential allies is plagued by Skrill, yes,' Einfari agreed. 'We should never go to his island.'
'Never,' Nóttreiði snarled. 'Unless we go to hunt them down.'
'Are you saying we should do some humans a favor?' Toothless asked, immediately jumping on that.
Nóttreiði took a quick break from watching their surroundings to glare at Toothless. 'I am saying that since Skrill hunt us, we should kill any we can find so that they will not kill anyone we care about in the future.'
'That's less of an improvement than I had hoped,' Toothless admitted. 'But you are keeping your cool here. I am impressed.'
Nóttreiði didn't seem to know how to take that. 'Good,' he eventually replied, returning to his surveying of their surroundings.
Maour definitely noticed Heather's annoyed grimace, an expression shot at him for a single moment. He didn't need to be reminded that she had warned him Nóttreiði's attempts at changing were fake. Did she think he would fall for it?
Well, yes, because it was amazingly convincing. Maour believed there was some genuine remorse mixed into whatever other motivations Nóttreiði had for acting as he was. He wanted to believe Nóttreiði was trying to change.
As long as Nóttreiði remained peaceful here, it didn't matter whether he was faking his remorse. Maour let that end his speculation. They had more important things to handle here, and the afternoon was wearing on as they spoke. It would soon be sunset, and that meant it would also soon be time to see whether or not his attempts at getting Mogadon and Aldir to listen to him and Bertha would bear any fruit.
Astrid stalked over to the largest of the many tents her tribe had pitched and quickly located Snotlout inside, holding a ragged, stained shirt to his nose. He was lucky that bloody nose had ended the fight. If it hadn't, he'd probably be unconscious right now.
It was doubly lucky for him that he wasn't unconscious; she needed to let him know what he was going to be doing tonight, because her own, more personal plans were going to take him away from her side, where she had originally planned to handle all of the important affairs for him. He was a puppet, in the end. An annoying, disagreeable one only kept around because he was easy to order around.
But that advantage was nothing compared to what she was being offered by Dagur. She had already made up her mind on that score; it was the more personal part of his offer that she would fight off as long as she could manage if that didn't impede the rest.
If she wanted to… Sometimes, when her mood swung, she found she didn't want to. But it was for the best in regards to her hunting capability that she not let him do anything… rash. Not with her.
"Astri'?" Snotlout mumbled. The shirt muffled his words.
"Listen up," Astrid commanded, crouching in front of him. "Tonight, ignore the Bog Burglars. Don't agree to anything with the Meatheads, Rockbreakers, Lava Louts, or Waxears." Those were the weakest tribes, and the ones Dagur had probably referenced when he spoke of 'clearing the archipelago of those incapable of standing in his way' in his victory speech after defeating Alvin the Treacherous. She didn't want Berk allied with any of them.
"Visithugs?" Snotlout asked.
"If they want a trade deal, agree to think about it and get back to them tomorrow." She wanted to tell him where he could stuff that stupid rag and his relatively weak tribe, but until it was official, she couldn't burn any bridges with Berk. For the good of the hunt.
"Outcasts?"
"Ignore them. But when Dagur comes to you with a proposal involving me…" She turned away, using the movement to mask taking her ax out, and then whirled on him, pointing the tip at him. "When he tries to bargain for my hand, give it to him. I don't care what the brideprice offer is, take it, and agree to deal with my family for him." She wanted the Berserker armada, and that was the fastest way to get it. As for her family? She hadn't so much as spoken to her parents in three years. They knew where she stood on them. If Dagur wanted her, he would be trying to get her tonight, as this was the night of deals, and she was willing to let him make that move in his so-called 'hunt' for her.
Snotlout's eyes widened as he considered what that would mean. "You got it!" he cried out. She didn't know whether he was happy or intimidated, and she didn't care, because the end was the same, and one he would work towards.
That was the aggravating part of tonight done. She left Snotlout's tent in a hurry, heading for her ax-cleaning kit, which was in her own tent, and the stake she had been sharpening to a perfect point whenever she had any free time. Tonight, she might manage to kill a Night Fury, finally. It was fitting her first kill would be in a place of supposed peace. Somehow. She didn't know how, or why she felt it was, but it just was.
A small, disturbed chuckle rose from her as she hefted the stake. Tonight was going to be a good night.
Heather was well aware that she was here to observe, above all else. Her desire to help Maour secure allies had led to very little she could actually do, and Dagur was a temptation she had managed to not so much as run into yet.
Observing was her job, and there was only one spot available at the actual meeting of Chieftains at the top of the hill. Maour got to bring one person, and the night prior he had brought Toothless. He would again, which meant she, Einfari, and Nóttreiði were not going to be present.
In theory. In practice, the night was cloudy, Night Fury eyes were good, and their wings were swift and silent. Nobody was supposed to be up by the top of the hill except the Chiefs, their seconds, and the Order-keeper, but nobody could possibly notice Einfari and Nóttreiði flying in low circles outside of the relatively short range of the bonfire, listening in.
Except Toothless, that was, but he and Maour knew about this plan and had approved it. They agreed that it was impossible for anyone to notice what Einfari had proposed, and even if anyone did notice, there was no way they would be successfully attacked, because they would be flying surprisingly far out, given the maximum range was how far away Einfari could hear things from.
"You have great ears," Heather said, complimenting Einfari. It was well-deserved; they were just getting into the air, the sun having finally set entirely, and while Heather couldn't hear anything distinct herself, tapping into Einfari's sense of hearing provided a much louder, clearer, and distinct perception of the sounds of Chiefs arriving and settling down to await the official lighting of the bonfire.
'Even among Night Furies,' Nóttreiði agreed. If there was one thing they both genuinely met on, it was that Einfari was great. Heather didn't suspect for a moment that he was agreeing out of any desire other than to compliment his sister. It was the sort of thing he wouldn't say on his own, but would definitely agree with because it was true.
At least, that was how she saw him as being. He was becoming a tiny bit less opaque to her now, since she was getting glimpses into who he was, as in order to fool Einfari he had to act as he normally would were Heather not present and nothing wrong. That was so twisted Heather almost couldn't believe it, but she was dealing with Nótts, and getting good at it.
"Toothless, help me out here and tell Maour to start talking," Einfari requested, making her mental voice more akin to a mental shout. Heather didn't know why or how volume worked with mental voices, but she wasn't about to question it. Questioning stuff like that was like asking for it to stop working as it should. Others could look into the 'how' and 'why'. That wasn't her concern. Her concern was 'what', as in, 'what can this be used for?'
On the subject of what it could be used for… Einfari began to circle inward on the hill, slowly lessening the distance between her ears and the growing noise of the small crowd on top of said hill.
"So, Bertha, any luck with Sigvard of the Rockbreakers? I think I got Aldir of the Waxears interested, but Mogadon is going to be a little harder."
Heather grinned as she picked Maour's voice out. It might be something with Einfari's ears, but she was finding it much easier to hear individual voices against the backdrop of everyone else who talked.
'Got him,' Einfari purred. 'Brother, how safe are we right now?'
"Anything they could throw from there, I could shoot out of the air. I'm watching them all, and since we are constantly circling, it is going to be nearly impossible for me not to notice anyone who sees us. This is very safe,' Nóttreiði admitted.
'If anyone could even see us to start with,' Einfari added. 'Look, they've just ruined their night vision by lighting that fire.'
Heather smiled even wider at that. Now there was nothing to worry about at all. Black dragons in a black, starless night, constantly circling and making absolutely no noise, above a small group of people who had better things to do than stare at the sky, and no night vision to boot.
Time to actually concentrate on what was going on. Heather took note of the fact that Astrid was off to the side, speaking to a weedy man, and Snotlout was looking around aimlessly. Dagur was arguing, it seemed, with the man she had heard called Norbert the Nutjob, and he certainly looked the part at the moment, matching Dagur crazy look for crazy look. All three were out of the way for the moment, and not even looking over at Maour and Toothless.
Maour and Toothless, meanwhile, were seated next to Bertha and Camicazi, while Mogadon and Aldir made their way over. Mogadon had the same young man with him from earlier, but Aldir didn't have Kim, which was a small shame. Then a large man with what looked like a pickaxe stomped up, dropping his ponderous weight on one of the currently empty logs next to Bertha. That would be Sigvard.
"Good to see you all could make it," Bertha said, beginning the discussion. "Svarturflugmaður and I have a proposition for you all."
"Make it fast," Mogadon grunted. "I'm only here because Norbert is occupied at the moment. The second he stops arguing with that power-hungry lunatic, I'm gone."
"Power-hungry, indeed," Maour replied neutrally. "I hear Dagur has been talking about wiping the smaller, less thoroughly armed tribes off the map." He made eye contact with each of the four men for a moment. "Some wouldn't call that a fair fight."
"Some wouldn't worry about it," Mogadon retorted. "What are you, scared?"
"No, not at all, because he'll have to search for a very long time to have any hope of finding the people I care about," Maour bluffed. Heather knew that wasn't true; Berserkers had set foot on the Isle of Night already, though they didn't know that. "But I don't like the big guy picking on the little ones. Especially when the big guy is insane and sadistic."
"You wouldn't," Mogadon's second scoffed.
"Thuggory, do I have to steal your helmet again?" Camicazi, Bertha's daughter, offered idly. "Listen to those of us with more brainpower." Heather knew her because she was a pretty well-known figure among the tribes of the archipelago, as were the Bog Burglars. She also knew they were already allied with said tribe, thanks to Maour filling them all in on the state of things that morning, but she had yet to actually meet Camicazi or Bertha.
"I, for one," Aldir announced, "want to hear how you propose to level the playing field."
Maour nodded in agreement. "Here's what I see happening. The Berserkers are a big threat to any of us, one we can't hope to totally defeat or even hold out against if they come at us in force. Berk, their allies, will probably help them or just up and attack on their own. Astrid's pulling the strings, and she's not stable at all."
"You've identified the two big dangers," Sigvard agreed gruffly. "My tribe likes to make things, not have them plundered from us. We'll fight, but we'll also lose if Dagur wants us gone."
"We'd hold out," Mogadon blustered. Heather was pretty sure everyone, including him, knew that wasn't true, but nobody was going to call him on-
"Mogadon, a dozen warships do not defeat upwards of seventy," Bertha remarked firmly. "If I thought you were stupid enough to believe that, I would not have suggested we extend this offer to you."
"The offer," Maour said loudly, his voice aided in calling attention by a subtle growl from Toothless, "is one of mutual defense against those two enemies. They can pick us off one by one, but if we sent a portion of our strength to aid whichever of us they go for first, we can head them off and cause serious damage instead of being overwhelmed separately."
Heather, constantly circling on Einfari, noticed that Camicazi had gotten up and was sneaking around to each of the Chiefs, doing something. What she was doing wasn't clear, and nobody else noticed, not even the Chiefs in question.
"A time-honored strategy, letting others whittle 'em down for you," Sigvard agreed. "We can do that equally well without any sort of alliance. If Dagur goes for someone else first, I have to face a slightly smaller armada."
"You're thinking about it the wrong way," Maour immediately countered. "It's not a 'one ship for one ship' deal. If seventy ships attack ten, they'll lose one or two and all ten will be destroyed. If seventy ships attack forty, they'll still only lose maybe half a dozen, or at best a dozen, because you'll be hopelessly outnumbered."
"But," and here his voice grew less dire, "if seventy ships sail against someone's island, only to face forty or so ships, and a coordinated strike force of Night Furies to whittle them down before they ever see the actual fleet… it's a fair fight. More than fair, with coordination and strategy."
Heather noticed how Maour never actually committed more than two dragons in that offer. She knew she and Einfari would make the other pair of fighting Dagur was on the table, so he wasn't offering anything she and him couldn't fulfill. It was likely the pack would accept this and make it apply to all of them, but not guaranteed, and Maour was a man of his word, however careful that word might have to be to get anything done.
"Night Furies…" Aldir sounded very interested. "I assume you have ideas as to the specifics?"
"Bertha and those I speak for are already allied in this manner, so we have a whole treaty written up, which you will find somewhere on you already, courtesy of Camicazi," Maour suggested, patting his flight suit down. "Possibly well-hidden, though." Toothless passed him a slightly slobbery copy of the treaty, having found it in his saddle. "Thanks."
'So that is what she was doing,' Einfari laughed. 'This is going well.'
Heather liked her friend's almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm, but she didn't share it. Having the entire thing already written up was a bold move that was going to get under the skin of some of the Chiefs because it was basically saying Maour saw no need to take their input on the specifics. If the treaty was anything less than perfect, Mogadon would probably demand edits, and that would lessen Maour's reputation, if only a little, because he would have to comply. A small thing, but this entire meeting was based on small things. Vikings might not be subtle, but that didn't mean they wouldn't maneuver if it was required.
'Dagur is speaking to the human the crazy female is allied with,' Nóttreiði remarked. 'You should turn your attention to that.'
'He's right,' Einfari agreed. 'Maour has this, or does not, and we are not going to affect the outcome. We should figure out what those two have to talk about.'
"Not much if Astrid isn't there," Heather reasoned. "You're right, though." They could do more good spying on the enemy than spying on friends.
Einfari's line of sight, and therefore Heather's, shifted to focus on Dagur and Snotlout. Snotlout's nose looked crooked, but he was talking confidently enough. If Heather strained, she could make them our, Dagur easier than Snotlout.
"Thirty gold coins, and that's my final offer," Dagur said angrily. "I'll gut you if you don't take it."
"Forty," Snotlout countered. "You can't gut me here, and if we leave without this deal, you'll only find the price to be higher later."
"He talks a big game, but he sweats a much smaller one," Heather murmured. Snotlout was not as calm as he was trying to appear. Nobody would be, bargaining with Dagur, but he was really nervous. What were they discussing?
"Thirty-five, and I get the crippled one who acts as her assistant," Dagur retorted.
"That's not my call, but for thirty-eight, I'll let him go if he wants to," Snotlout offered.
"I should gut you right here and now," Dagur grumbled petulantly. "Thirty-eight, she gets the chance to bring the cripple, and you let me punch you in the face at our next meeting, wherever that is."
"You know what?" Snotlout declared. "Deal, as long as I get to punch you back, and it doesn't end up being a duel." He made it sound like he was being generous, but Heather could tell he was conceding out of nerves. He really wanted this to go through, even if he was willing to talk up the price.
"Done," Dagur laughed, sticking out his hand for Snotlout to shake. They clasped hands, both appearing to be trying their hardest to break bones in the other, and then Dagur left, laughing maniacally to himself.
'So… do we know what that was about?'
"It sounded like they were selling a slave," Heather reasoned. "The problem with that is that neither tribe keeps slaves." The Berserkers didn't, one of the few areas in which they were legitimately less terrible than other tribes, though they based that lack on Viking pride and not wanting to get lazy, not any sort of moral compass. Only the Visithugs really dealt in slaves as an ongoing trade, and that was because they raided outside the archipelago, and thus had ample chance to pick them up without angering their immediate neighbors.
'What is a slave?' Einfari asked curiously. Her voice was light because she didn't know what she was talking about.
Heather tried to think of an easy way to explain it, and to her surprise realized she had one. One Nóttreiði couldn't hear. So, she lowered her voice to a whisper, more to indicate that Einfari shouldn't translate than to hide her own words from Nóttreiði, as he wouldn't understand. "You know your father's story, about his terrible experiences as a captive? He was bought and sold. A slave is a prisoner bought and sold, and forced to obey whoever owns them. They have no rights and no hope."
Einfari rumbled in deep, terrible anger. 'And they do this to humans, too. They have to know it is terribly wrong.'
"Yes, they do." Heather didn't know and didn't care what rationalization people would use to defend the practice. She had issues with being denied freedom in any way, more so since she had become allied with people who also had the same kind of problem.
'But you think that is not it,' Einfari continued. 'So what were they discussing?'
"I don't know." She only thought that wasn't it because Berserkers and Berkians didn't keep slaves. Maybe they were changing that. It wouldn't surprise her, given the current leadership of both islands. That was something to keep an eye on. Changes in the state of their enemy's capabilities were important to track.
For the moment, though, there was nothing left to hear. Einfari turned her attention back to Maour and the Chieftains he was speaking to without Heather having to ask.
"I want the location," Mogadon was growling. He waved his copy of the treaty at Maour angrily. "For all I know, this 'Isle of Night' does not exist, or is on the edge of the world. I will not pledge to possibly defend a place I can't find on a map."
"I cannot give you the location right now," Maour said calmly. He sounded like he was not saying any of this for the first time. "You have my word that it exists, and common sense indicates it is close enough that Dagur or Astrid could find it if they tried hard enough. It is not on the edge of the world." He was skirting around the restrictions on location well enough at the moment.
"I, for one, have no problem not knowing where," Sigvard grunted. "I want to know how we get into contact."
"Night Furies fly faster than ships sail," Maour remarked dismissively. "Much, much faster. Rest assured, I'll be keeping tabs on my enemies no matter what happens here. If we are allied, I will know you are under attack with time to spare. Possibly before you do."
"The Berserkers do nothing without announcing it to the world first," Aldir added. "Time for news to travel will not be an issue, and the rest of us live relatively close to each other. I do not see that being a problem."
"So we trust you to hold your end of the bargain, trust this island exists, trust you to know… Boy, we do not trust that strongly," Mogadon objected.
"Let me put it this way," Maour tried. "If I do not hold my end of the bargain, if I disappear tonight and none of you ever see me or a Night Fury again, which I won't, what happens? You still have a defensive alliance against an enemy you all know you'll be fighting anyway, alone or together. Together gives you a chance, and alone means you lose. You have nothing to lose from entering into this, and everything to gain, whether or not I am true to my word, which I am."
"He speaks sense," Sigvard admitted. "This will work with or without him. I'd rather it be with him, but I want in either way."
"Aye, and so do I," Aldir agreed.
Bertha smiled coyly at Mogadon. "So, it looks like you can join in or be left out."
"Fine," Mogadon grunted. "Where do I sign?"
Einfari let out a long, slow sigh as the Chiefs all began signing the many copies of the treaty. "I feel this is a good thing, but it is also a change. Our pack lives anonymously. It's how we survive. Now we cannot, not entirely."
'The pack still has the choice to not join in on this,' Nóttreiði offered. 'Toothless and Maour speak only for themselves until the pack agrees they are part of this 'Isle of Night'. Or have I been misinformed?'
'You're right, they can still say no, but they won't, because, with this kind of force, we stand a chance of destroying our enemies and having allies,' Einfari reasoned. 'Maour and Toothless know that. They have given us the chance to enter into the politics of humans as something other than animals, and we would be fools not to take it. It is a risk, but one worth taking.'
'Something will go wrong. Those "allies" you speak of do not know who they have bargained with. Most would kill Toothless given a chance. Once they realize Maour speaks for a pack of dragons, not a pack of humans subjugating a pack of dragons, it will all come crumbling down.'
'And we will be better off than before even then,' Einfari retorted. 'You know we will never trust them not to turn on us, so if they do, we will not be caught. And in the meantime, we will work with them to eliminate the bigger threat, leaving us with a few small threats instead. None of which know where we live, meaning we have lost nothing.'
Nóttreiði had no response to that, surprisingly enough. Heather would have expected him to resort to the whole 'humans are all bad' argument that had been his fallback in the past. But, of course, he couldn't use that anymore, whether or not he still believed it. His disguise of trying to change made that a bad choice.
Enemies as allies against a greater threat, enemies that may or may not be enemies in the future. Heather wondered if Nóttreiði knew how similar he was to their new allies in that way.
'That went very well,' Toothless purred. Mogadon and Aldir were just leaving, Mogadon heading for Norbert, and Aldir for nowhere in particular. Both seemed satisfied.
Maour smiled lightly, knowing he couldn't look too happy with any of this, though it would make no big difference now. "It really did," he agreed. There had been plenty of dicey moments, mostly thanks to Mogadon's belligerent attitude, but it was done. Dagur would face a united front if he came for them, and so would Astrid, though most of the Chiefs had seemed to consider her and Berk an afterthought. Maour knew better.
"Most I've ever gotten done in an hour," Bertha mused, looking at her own copy of the treaty. "Any chance you can tell me where you live now?"
"None," Maour regretfully replied. "It's not up to me." He didn't want to, either. The Bog Burglars were allies, and Bertha was a friend, but that information was just too dangerous to give out to anyone.
"I have a different request," Sigvard announced, standing from his log seat. He pointed a large finger at Maour. "What's on your back? Nobody seems to know, and I want to see it."
"This?" Maour took his scythe out. "Nobody knows because I made it." He spun it in a partial circle and stopped it to open the spikes, and then handed it over. "Mind the sharp edges."
Sigvard very carefully looked it over, paying special attention to the metal. "I've never seen the wood, but I do know the metal."
"You do? I don't." He had gotten it from the smith on Mahelmetan, and she had gotten it from someone else. It was light and strong, far better than iron, and that was all he knew.
"Aye, we import all sorts of metal," Sigvard explained, handing the scythe back with an air of reverence. "This stuff has no name, it's so rare, and it's more than worth its weight in gold. This thing must have cost you an arm and a leg, to have so much of that metal, and with such craftsmanship."
'Tell him we made it,' Toothless suggested eagerly.
"I was planning to," Maour reassured him. "The metal cost me as much as iron would, and my brother and I made this weapon." It was rare he got a chance to show off their skill at designing and making things to someone who also knew the craft. Shadow and Cloey always showed interest in his latest inventions, but they didn't have the background to really get what they were looking at.
"We're being ripped off, then," Sigvard complained lightly. "That's a weapon for a Chief. Assuming he can use it without killing himself. Too bad we can't get a demonstration here."
"Too bad," Maour agreed, glad he wouldn't have to turn down an invitation to go out onto Sigvard's ship. He could only trust so far, and that was trusting his life. Not an acceptable risk in order to appease somebody's curiosity.
"But I'm sure I'll see it someday," Sigvard continued. "Bertha, I was wondering what you would think of a trade deal between us, as we're now allies."
"Defensive only," Bertha qualified, "but what do you have in mind?"
Maour knew that was his cue to get up and mingle, like it or not. Yet another thing that had to be done, or else he would look weak.
Wait, did that matter any longer? They were done here. He and Toothless could leave tonight, and it wouldn't matter. Everything he could hope to accomplish had happened.
But… they should probably stay until the end of the third day. The third night was the time for big announcements, which included wars being declared. Maour needed to be there to represent his commitment to aiding in the defense of the Bog Burglars, Rockbreakers, Meatheads, or Waxears as necessary.
"Did I just commit us to destroying Dagur's entire armada?" Maour murmured to Toothless. They walked out to stand by the bonfire, so as to have something behind them. Einfari would mentally warn them if anyone was sneaking up on them, but it was best to be careful.
'Yes, you did,' Toothless replied, 'but we were going to have to do that anyway. Now we have way more breathing room to do it, and allies no matter what. You have paid for our family's safety with that commitment.'
"Thanks for putting it into perspective. I know you're with me, and Heather will be if Einfari can wiggle her way into helping. Hopefully, the whole pack will see the right choice is joining us."
'They will.' Toothless sounded certain, which was something Maour envied. He wanted to be that sure. 'Maour, do we have to be here any longer?'
"We should stay until the end of the third night, at least," Maour replied.
'Okay, but I mean here, on this hill, right now. We are attracting attention, and there is nothing left to gain for us.'
"Sadly, yes." If he had his way, they would already be up in the air. But the game needed to be played until it was over.
'One of them is approaching us,' Toothless continued. 'One I do not like the look of.'
Maour switched over to Toothless's vision for a moment, judging that to be a faster way of picking out the one Viking Toothless was worrying about, and saw a smaller man with a black mustache approaching from the side.
Well, that was easy enough to counter. Maour switched back to his own sight and turned, pretending to notice the man. "Yes?"
The man stopped walking but did not seem at all perturbed by being caught. "I'd like to speak to you in private." He glanced at Toothless. "Your lizard can, of course, accompany us if you feel the need."
Maour didn't like this guy already. "We can speak here. It might not be a good idea to be seen leaving the gathering together. Rumors can be dangerous." Total yak-dung, but it was a good excuse.
The man wrung his hands and stepped closer, lowering his voice. Almost a little too close, but Maour wasn't about to show weakness. "This is not a matter to be discussed in the open," the man whispered conspiratorily.
Toothless spoke to Maour. 'If he cares, I can block you two off with my wings.'
Maour smiled. "Yes, that should work." He turned to the man. "Svarturkappi has it covered. Well, he has us covered, anyway."
Toothless sat up, and extended his wings forward and around the two, creating a head-high black wall. He looked over his shoulder. No one noticed his actions or seemed to care. They were all busy arguing or negotiating.
The man had visibly flinched when Toothless moved. Now he looked at the wings impassively. He spoke to Maour. "Impressive."
Maour knew what the man meant, but he decided to reply as if he did not. "He just spread his wings. As impressive as you or me stretching."
The man shook his head. "No, the level of control you exhibit. And that is why I am here, on the behalf of my chief, Duncar the Dilapidator, of the Visithugs. How much for the knowledge on how to control dragons? We are a very wealthy people, in gold, treasure, and slaves."
Maour scowled. "I want none of those things. But even if I did, I couldn't sell that knowledge, because I already give it away freely. There is no control here." He wasn't willing to drag this out any longer, now that he knew what the man wanted. "So we have nothing to discuss."
At that, Toothless retracted his wings and growled at the man, laughing loudly when the man flinched.
"Name your price," the man insisted, no longer bothering with stealth.
"There is no price." Maour raised his voice, just to drive home what he was about to say. "I have no secret knowledge about how to control dragons, and wouldn't sell it if I did!"
"No need to shout," the man grumbled, backing away. He seemed distinctly aware of the hostile eyes turned toward him from every direction. Maour had outed his Chief's intentions, though that hadn't been his intention at the moment. "Come to us if you ever… change your mind."
Maour felt the distinct urge to groan in frustration, but he held it in. "Like beating my head against an army of stone walls," he complained to Toothless.
Then he spotted a much larger, less subtle figure approaching them. In his annoyance, he spoke his mind, calling out to the man. "No Alvin, I don't like Snotlout, but I have absolutely no interest in taking my 'rightful place' as chief there, with or without your help. I have no interest in fighting you in Stoick's stead either. And finally, I will under no circumstances tell you anything I haven't just told Lewin over there, and I'm pretty sure you could hear that. Does that cover everything you were about to ask?"
Alvin the Treacherous stopped a good ten paces away, completely pre-empted. He thought about it. "Aye, it does." He turned around and walked back the way he had come.
Toothless chortled happily. 'That was great.'
Maour smirked, feeling some of his frustration evaporate. "I took a guess, but it wasn't hard to know what he wanted. Vikings are really predictable. Especially Alvin, because his motives and methods are obvious. I'm not actually sure why he even tries. I mean, he does have the word 'Treacherous' in his name." Maour thought about that. "Actually, this is probably the only time anyone makes deals with him. Even he probably won't break deals made here. So never mind, this is the only time he even has a chance."
'Will he be mad about you blowing him off like that?'
"He should be, but he didn't seem mad at all." Maour shrugged his shoulders. "So… no?" He wasn't sure what to think of Alvin. The man had quite the reputation for being terrible, but here he was just another Chief and acted like it. He definitely wasn't the worst person present.
Astrid watched Hiccup and his Night Fury closely from the other side of the hilltop, feigning interest in nothing in particular. As soon as they were alone, she would begin. This might not work, but she was betting-
There. Lewin, the altogether unimpressive lackey of Duncar the Dilapidator, had gone, and Alvin had been totally stymied. Nobody was looking toward them, and that meant nobody would interfere. Time to try her luck and hopefully get one or both of them killed.
Author's Note: I actually didn't intend to leave this one here, but I don't want to pass over 10,000 words, as that will make some of the shorter chapters too short in comparison, so have fun with where this ends. (For reference, my rule of thumb is to take my minimum chapter length and double it to find the absolute maximum. Here, the minimum is, or should be, 5,000 words, so the maximum is 10,000, barring the occasional exception where absolutely necessary.)
Also, this story is totally diverging from the first draft I'm rewriting at this point. In the first draft, the Rockbreakers weren't involved, Astrid and Dagur were playing nice (as in not plotting to get around the rules, which is totally OOC for both of them), we had a big conversation between Maour and Trott of the Lava Louts (we might still see that one later), and Maour had shown off his skill with his weapon at least twice by this point, because the peace for some reason didn't extend to sparring, and to top it all off, Nóttreiði was playing even nicer than he was in this version, and meant it. All of that is totally different here.
On another note, some of you may have noticed something about Aldir's little lightning problem. Maour and Toothless don't know about lightning being attracted to metal (which is obviously what's going on with the normal, if frequent, strikes). Who knows if they'll ever figure it out. (Who am I kidding, there's no way we've seen the last of Skrill and thunderstorms, the foreshadowing couldn't be more obvious).
One more little fun fact: The first draft didn't have any POV from Astrid or Dagur while we were on this island. In rewriting, I decided to bring in some of that, and realized that those were the most fun to write of any of this. That bodes well, given we're certainly not done with either of them. I'm looking forward to where all of this goes, and starting Monday, I'm back into consistent wifi, so there is also that.