Chapter 3
The prowling Night Fury before him seemed to have such regal grace that it was like the ground merely rose up to his steps, as it slinked through the woods with Hiccup in to. He was envious, as the verdure beneath him seemed to trip and poke him out of spite. Even with the form of a dragon, he could barely walk without falling. Thick sticks and branches fallen from their tees jabbed the squishy, smooth underside of his new paws and made him huff, tumbling headfirst over logs and being smacked in the snout by bushes the other dragon parted.
They were going as fast as Hiccup dared trust himself, the other dragon silently keeping his pace perfectly with him, even when he tripped and skidded over rocks and wood, like it had somehow known which spots would founder the 'newborn'.
Hiccup had also been able to notice something he'd not had before they left the torchlight of Berk; near-perfect vision in the pitch blackness - which probably wasn't helping him walk any better - head tilted skyward and left and right, looking further in the dark than he reckoned he could on a bright day as a human, seeing owls in their trees and foxes watching the larger predators from their dens.
Time was spent wrangling his thoughts as best he could , not letting that anxiety or terror take him over again, but there was a new emotion in play. An emotion that writhed and gripped at his soul: anger. He was angry at this dragon. It had taken everything from him; the little he had. Gobber's forge and his creative mind and his skilled, dextrous fingers that could fix just about anything anyone set in front of him given a few moments and some tools.
There was a lot he definitely wouldn't miss while he was still a dragon. The bullying, the social outcasting, the Viking way of just hitting your problem until it broke or fixed itself. But this felt like he'd not even been given a choice. He'd been swept away from his life, as awful as it had been, and forced to be a beast for only the Gods know how long.
A growl took over him, the dragon before him barely swatting an ear-flap back at him as it headed forward, the old bridge just ahead of them, and Hiccup watched him carefully, his claws digging into the dirt with each step, growling a little louder as they approached the bridge and the dragon before him took a step onto it, the entire thing shaking loudly and creaking, the weather-beaten ropes on the sides swinging, but holding.
He eyed the ropes and his claws, and then he looked at the beast walking across them, the swinging barely putting him off, that growl still leaving him despite his best attempts to silence it. He could do it. Two swipes and this monster that had taken him from his life and cursed him would suffer as he had, falling to the jagged rocks below, tangled in the ropes and wood.
Raising a clawed paw to one of them ropes, Hiccup bared his teeth at them, staring intensely, before remembering what he'd stowed his blade and freed it for.
The mirrored pain, the sadness and loneliness in those eyes was so terribly familiar he couldn't bring himself to slay him then, and he definitely couldn't now under the guise of a new friend. As his paw dropped to the dirt, and he continued to be led, the growl never left his throat, the rumble echoing across the pass; Hiccup's footfalls somehow perfectly accurate on the bridge as he stared intently at the dragon who'd slowed a little, but kept perfectly stepping through the undergrowth.
His shoulders dropped a little and he let out a pained sigh, as he kept up, stumbling as soon as his paws met stone or twig or brush clumsily. He had to keep his head on, and angering the only creature that had shown kindness to him in a long time probably wasn't going to get him anywhere.
The walk they were on came to an abrupt stop, and the dragon suddenly leapt up a few feet to the top of a grass and moss covered rock, part of what looked to Hiccup like a small hill made of stone that went in a large circle as far as he could spy in his peripheral vision, and he looked up at the dragon, who was looking back expectantly.
"Here, follow." It warbled, expectantly, it's eyes holding a slight reservedness and apprehension.
Sighing, the dragon looked up and tried to do what he'd done at the arena, leaping upward a few feet - but he went wrong somewhere, and seemed to throw himself into the stone cliff face with a loud slap of scale to smooth stone, and if the dragon thought it was funny, he didn't hear anything of it, and it repeated it's warbling guidance again.
Hiccup righted himself with a slight flap of his wings, braced again, like last time in the arena, but this time he made sure to keep his angle upward and not forward, so he'd ascend to the top; and it went as planned, but the smooth stones at the peak of his leap held no purchase for him to claw to, and he gracefully hit the apex of his jump, a little above the stone, and scrambled for something to grip onto and stand on.
A paw gripped at the rock for a moment, before he began falling with a loud, startled screech into the large cove's lake with a splash and a scared call, as he hit the bottom of the deepest poin. Madly flailing his limbs, his tail and wings included somehow as panic took over sense and he tried to get to the surface again.
A distorted shape came over the surface and with a splash and a stream of bubbles, Hiccup was hoisted by the scruff of his neck; a point where there were no nerves, and he felt nothing - much like an elbow on a human, though with the added effect of his entire body responding by going limp, feeling the tug on his collar pulling him through the water until with a gurgling breath he was out, resting on the lakeside, the other dragon releasing his scales from his maw and it seemed to disapprove, butting it's snout into his.
"You strange. Not jump, not fly, not swim?" Came the condescending growl and huff.
But Hiccup was much, much too tired. It would seem that since he'd left the ring, he'd been running on less than fumes, and now, laid down on something resembling softness such as a patch of dirt and loam, he couldn't even be bothered to roll his eyes at the dragon, as his lids shut and his aching body finally got the reprieve it needed.
Covered in crusted blood and scratches and wounds, Hiccup left the waking world.
Sleep did not come easily to the viking-turned-dragon. Every moment brought another emotion that he'd backed into the corners of his mind swirling forward, and in his sleep he could not escape them.
Visions of his father reaching a sword into his heart. Of Astrid digging an axe into his side, or the twins firing arrows into his throat and laughing about it; each individual villager from the children to the elderly, torturously pictured killing him or wounding him gravely, and each time it felt so real. As if he'd experienced it already, and this was just a sick reminder of his death.
He didn't know how long or how many times this repeated in his head, but as he woke up, shrouded in darkness, feeling trapped again, he began panicking, the weight covering him not budging as he tried to move, whimpering and squirming, until a gentle grumble came from behind him and the darkness abated; the sun blazing down from nearly directly above. This time, his eyes did not need to adjust to the light, and he tried moving, but his body refused him again, his legs aching and he realised just how wounded he must have been by the battle in the arena.
Barely able to crane his neck around, Hiccup moved his head, looking at the dragon behind him - growling as he realised it had been cuddling him, his body trapped beneath his, wing over him, his head beneath the larger dragon - indignant at the idea he'd been cradled like a bairn by this beast, and some of that anger came back. But it was quickly snuffed out by the beast bringing it's wide, flat tongue down on his face, gliding up between his eyes and ear plates.
"You not normal fledgling." The beast spoke, stating the fact.
He wanted to try to bite the dragon or recoil in disgust, but his head leaned further in, and the growl in his throat quickly turned to a tender purr.
He wasn't even in control of himself, as the dragon kept moving its tongue up and down his snout to the crown of his head, he sagged his head a bit, that tiredness coming back in a second wave and the purr getting louder.
It was incredibly frustrating for the Viking, unable to talk or fight back and he had to lie there getting groomed like some frail child or kitten, but he couldn't find his strength, feeling a sudden emptiness in his stomach and sighing as it rumbled with his needs; suddenly he was glad dragon's couldn't blush.
The dragon above him warbled and crooned at him.
"Food-need?"
It was definitely rhetorical, as the dragon raised up little, Hiccup only now taking notice that he was a ways smaller than the other male, and he watched, tilting his head up to keep his eyes on him as the beast leaned.
Snout to snout with him now, his eyes rolled up and he started making a sound like he was going to be sick, the boy panicking and looking up at him, locked in place, until the dragon was sick; or so he thought. Instead of a new memory that would disgust him , the dragon's maw opened and half of a large fish, coated in saliva and a strange fluid slickly slid down his tongue and onto the ground before Hiccup.
And if that had sickened him, the next thought was even worse: it smelled delicious.
The dragon was all but drooling, staring at the undigested meal and his head was telling him to knock the thing away, but he was so hungry for it, and he felt himself jolting forward, pushing with his shoulders and stretching his neck out, and he finally gave in, opening his maw with his eyes shut and he scraped the morsel into his lips, and was nearly stunned by how the fish tasted incredible despite having been hacked up. He didn't even chew the thing, just tossed his head back and swallowed it, before opening his eyes again, the dragon in front of him smirking.
"You no fledgling if like food-up, still." It said, pensively through it's small grin, the dragon appearing thoughtful as it sat on its hind legs and watched Hiccup.
The exhausted boy just sighed and raised his brow; he didn't know how to talk so he just shrugged and huffed at him - his grievances not forgotten just yet.
Suddenly, the big dragon's face was just in front of his own and was looking at his lower jaw and staring, retreating after a moment.
"Same winters as me. But want food-up?" He frowned, and he just sighed again and shrugged, giving a little snort at the dragon.
And then in a blink, there he was again, except this time, the dragon was laid out in front of him, their muzzles almost touching, and it was bearing him down with it's powerful gaze, and Hiccup felt like he was in the forest again with the downed dragon, but he didn't even blink, and just stared back.
With his enhanced eyesight, nothing was different - loneliness swam in those green depths, but mostly he could just see the dragon puzzling over him, until, after a few quiet moments, the dragon chirped and sat up on all fours; like a dog that had just been prompted to play fetch with it's master.
"You two legged in forest? Small, sharp claw?" It asked him and, not seeing the use in lying, Hiccup simply nodded, shutting his eyes again. The dragon would mostly likely go for him here, knowing it was his enemy from earlier, and he was wounded already, laying on his side exhausted - it was free revenge. The thought occupied him, and he just relaxed some more, drawing his tail into himself and putting his wings over his legs.
The swirling maelstrom of thoughts was answered instead, by a gentle poking of a muzzle to his, and a sad, soft purring that echoed through the cove. Cracking an eye tiredly, Hiccup found the beast closer than ever, almost looking heartbroken as it stared at him, and suddenly he was being licked again, the dragon above him rumbling and crooning comfortingly; apologetically. It felt sorry for him, and that somehow pushed the anger that he'd been resting on away, squishing it between a tide of sorrow.
Hiccup didn't feel sorry for himself often - he didn't have time to, and it would never do him any good. Vikings don't wallow in their sadness. He simply went day by day, keeping troubles and worries locked into a corner of his mind where they couldn't affect his actions, letting it build and build.
But here, with this dragon in the cove, after sharing those long looks and everything he'd had today alone, the floodgates burst. Fifteen years of sadness, loneliness, of alienation and isolation pierced through his heart and he howled sadly, the echoing noise trembling from his throat and was only met by the soft croons and whines of the other dragon with him as it somehow translated the harrowing sadness in his sounds and understood him as he screeched and yowled, his paws clawing up the dirt around him as he flailed some, his entire body shaking as he pressed into the dragon's embrace desperately.
Time passed, how much, Hiccup didn't care, but after a while, his exhausted body stopped and the wracking, jerking motions he made with each call passed, silence coming over him aside from his trembling breaths.
Tentatively, he slowly moved, leaving the crook of the dragon's neck he'd somehow pushed himself into and blearily dropped his head down to the ground again, the dragon moving to curl up around him again, but he made no move to stop it as he thought he would have, leaning back into it and sighing again.
"Short life-cycle. But much sadness." The male rumbled quietly into the back of his neck, and he nodded, before he tried to speak back.
The hissing rasp of his throat and the odd feeling of the muscles and chords within battled at him until he finally found how to replicate the sound he'd heard.
"Sa — d." He clawed out, and took a breath, trying again.
"Life."
The dragon behind him gently licked at the small fins between his brows and sighed a little, but crooned at the 'speech' in a congratulatory tone.
Feeling more relaxed, despite the aches in his body, the dragon squeezed into the other and huffed a bit, before he thought to himself, losing himself in the trails of ideas.
The dragon hadn't known he was the person he'd met yesterday morning, who'd shot him down until just earlier - which increased the unlikeliness that he'd had a hand, or, paw, in doing this to him. So it was just a terrible, cruel trick of the Gods. The one time anyone listened to his pleads, it was this one. Not when Snotlout was pummeling his ribs as a 'training' exercise, or his own father had forced him into the woods for two days to try and get him to hunt.
Hiccup used those complex muscles in his neck and gave a quiet warble, finding that the more he used the chords in his throat, the more he understood how each sound worked and what they meant.
The dragon gave a gentler croon back and nudged heads with him as that siege of exhaustion finally defeated him, and he started to shut his eyes again.
Another nap might let him move in a few hours…
Green met green. The dragon had slowly stirred from it's shorter, still pained sleep and had taken control quickly, looking at the other, who had woken to his movements as he stood up.
"You, keep small-safe?" He asked the dragon, who looked to be his senior but the quick count of his lower jaw frills told him they were the same age - he was just quite a bit larger.
The other hadn't been expecting this, clearly, if the ear plates and eyebrow raising was of any indication, sitting up quickly.
"Keep safe. Very sad-small. Nest hateful." He looked over the wounded one, and sighed as he watched all the scars and scratches that marked his scales all over.
The dragon nodded at the larger and crooned gently. "He not need me. You keep safe." A smile ghosted his lips, before the dragon rested it's head and shut its eyes again.
Hiccup woke with a slight ache behind his eyes again, but he knew it to be from the wounds he'd sustained in the arena, and slowly found the energy to lift his head, feeling much better — both emotional and physically — than he had previously. Looking skyward, he found the sun a mix of bright pinks and reds, swirling whites from the clouds all creating what must be a gorgeous view from the hill atop his village.
With a sigh, the dragon stood up, looking over to the other and huffed a little greeting, before wobbly going to the lake and dipping his head in, dragging deep tugs of water into his dry mouth, tail swaying slowly behind him as he drank.
After taking his fill, he was joined by the other dragon, who sat beside him and eyed him curiously, so Hiccup cracked his throat sounds out again, and they came to him much smoother; finding if he thought on the word he wanted to say he could bring it forth in his throat to speak it with some struggle.
"Why y-you help a 'Vkingnir'." Frowning as he realised the dragons' had no word for his people.
The dragon was set aback a little, but answered all the same after a second.
"Saw in eyes. You want help." Which only helped to raise another question, but it died in his maw as he thought a little harder.
Silence took the mossy cove as he struggled to find a point when he'd shown or thought the dragon might help him after he'd been the one to shoot him down.
"You.. make me... Scaled?" Hiccup asked tentatively - his own theory might be wrong, and he wanted it straight from the dragon's mouth; confused a little as to why they had no word for dragon that he could make.
The dragon bared his teeth a little and stomped his forepaws down, angry all of a sudden, hissing at the smaller; who crouched down closer to the ground in a submissive stance, eyes wide at the sudden turn of attitude at the question.
"No. Not enough magic in nest of Night-Ones." It growled at him, before withdrawing, but not looking even slightly apologetic, as Hiccup stood back up, but kept his head bowed to look away from him.
A little huff came from the larger one and an apologetic croon left its chest as it butted it's head gently with Hiccup's chin, sliding their muzzles together tenderly and drawing a little burst of a purr from him.
He wouldn't lie, the constant physical affection was getting a lot easier for him to handle and not rebut - it did feel nice, and Hiccup had nothing like this… ever. The gentle touches upon his scales felt sacred, important, like they were meant for him. He felt safe.
The gentle butting of a beasts snout to his own was almost intimate, even, feeling the restrained gentleness and genteel put to his body, and he stopped fighting back that instinct to flinch or flee from the dragon's touch and instead leaned into it.
The moment passed and they parted slowly, the other dragon smiling at him goofily, teeth retracted and gums flapping a little, tongue poking out of his lips as it smiled at him, head tilted, and Hiccup didn't have the ability to not grin back at him, they both mirrored each others silly, happy expressions.
For the first time in a long time, he knew peace. He looked into the dragon's gaze and knew that he cared for him and that he cared for him back.
The dragon looked at him with a short curious call, and he looked at Hiccup closely, poking at his wings with his snout before mumbling quietly and questioning him.
"You, fly. Get food." He ordered him, but there was a hint of a question in his words.
"Why- you not fly?" He asked with a gentle frown, looking back at the dragon.
"Not can. You, fly."
This only proved to deepen the frown on his features, the scaled dragon looking at him, glancing up and down, before the other dragon, almost bashfully showed him his tail.
Hiccup's heart dropped like a stone in his stomach as he saw that cleaved, missing tail fin, a scab on the side of his tail where the fin had been attached. This must have been the result of him hitting him with the bola out of the sky. There was no way he could fly without it, he knew enough about how flight worked from hours of sketching birds and dragons in flight when he could.
He knew Gronckles were more akin to a honeybee than anything else; their bodies too heavy, but their wings had immense strength. Nadders were closer to a bird of prey, an eagle. Powerful wings, and long feet and claws, their heads shaped to pass air over their spines and wings, giving them great speed. Nightmares had great, pointed and arched wings, smooth bodies that made them slice and glide through the air. Other dragon species were rarely seen, and Hiccup believed it to be due to that the much colder climate of Berk only allowed some dragons to survive and fly.
Snapping back to the present, he looked at the dragon with a question that had come to his mind.
"What your name?" He asked tenderly, head tilting to the side; which the other dragon mimicked in the other direction.
"We no names. I Night Flyer. Or… Night… Anger?" He spoke, mimicking what the Viking's had named him.
Smiling a little, Hiccup paused for a moment and flicked a tongue over his lips, feeling it slide over his gums and an idea sparked, looking at the matching dragon's gums.
"Call you Tooth-less." He grinned widely at the newly named dragons reaction, ears up and he huffed at him, batting Hiccups snout with his paw gently and lowering himself to the ground as if to play, grunting at him.
"That, not name! That… rude!" He huffed back, grunting at him but the smile betrayed his feelings as he provided Hiccup with a sudden attack; a wide, long lap over his face that left him dripping with Night Fury saliva and laughing, a deep enchanting sound that he found he liked.
The dragon sobered up and stopped laughing for a moment and then spoke again, shyly this time, soft.
"I… Hiccup. And… I not know how to fly." He said, smiling a little, before it faded and he frowned, the words feeling bad, guilt in his gut.
Toothless quickly came to him and rubbed their muzzles together as Hiccup pushed out a lilting whine, which was met with a gentle croon and another lick.
"Show-fly." He hummed softly as his ear plates flapped and flattened from front to back of his head gently, stepping away and moving his body a good distance off before he flapped his wings out wide and straightened them, along with his tail and all the fins he had left, prompting his tail forwards.
"Long fins, for turning. Change direction. Short fin for speed. Lift for slow, flat for fast." He made a show of letting Hiccup see each fin adjusting and moving, large changes and tiny, minute ones, showing all the different angles and positions he could put them into.
His mind was racing; if he'd still been a human, Hiccup could have rigged something for him - some kind of prosthetic that let him fly still, leather and steel and some method of it giving the dragon control of it, some kind of hook or claw-mounted pulley…
But he shook his head free of it. Hiccup was a dragon, for now, and thoughts like that would only stifle him and slow him down. Focused back on the demonstration, and turning his side to Toothless, and trying to mimic him, having to focus on moving the flaps and angling them at first; a strange feeling, as if his arm had fallen asleep and he'd shaken it to get it back.
Once he'd grasped the feeling of them being there, he focused on turning them in short movements, angling them down and up and flattening them into his tail, opening them as wide as they would go and so on, Toothless supplying endless supportive rumbles and purrs to goad him onward.
"You move wing, next." His teacher instructed and Hiccup looked up at him with a proud smile, as the dragon beside him stepped back a little and moved his wings, spreading them wide as he could, and then pulling them in slowly.
"Wing out all, for glide, slow. Wing in for dive, for speed. Flatten all fin and wing, pull in paw-leg for fastest flight." He said, pulling it all together as he flattened his frills, fins and wings in, and lowering to the ground as he bent his paws, streamlining himself as much as he could and Hiccup followed suit, his wings tucking and his fins flattening in a reflection of the sight before him, tongue lolling out as he looked over himself and then at Toothless with a wide grin and he let out a bark of pride at being able to pick things up so well.
Toothless looked proud too, and suddenly Hiccup was on the ground, the bigger dragon pinning him and nipping at his cheeks, and he bucked and panicked, until a little whine told him he was just playing, and he relaxed again, carefully nipping up and batting his paws at the other, and they began to tussle and roll, a game of gummy maws and smacking paws, each trying to pin the other and he lost himself in the simple fun of it, the two tussling until they were panting, delirious on the grass, spread out and huffing in fresh air.
The fun, delighted afterglow quickly came to an end however. The crack of a twig and the scraping of steel had Hiccup on all fours, low to the ground and ears up as his head snapped toward the sound; a small hole in the cove behind where he'd lain on the ground with his friend, who similarly had rolled and gotten to his paws, but was in front of Hiccup in seconds, his wings up and spread to hide him from sight, protecting him as he whimpered and breathed quickly, hissing at the intruder.
Huffing his nose and inhaling, Hiccup found the usual scents the cove had been coated in, his own, and that warm, heated scent that followed Toothless around that he never paid mind to, but found… homely.
Then there was the scent he knew he recognised, it was like all her personality swirled into a smell, a taste; steel, blood, and warm bread, and anger. Hiccup didn't know it had a smell until just now, but Astrid Hofferson reeked of it, and as he peeked underneath the dragon's wingspan, he could very well tell why.
Astrid was coated in sweat, her hair tangled with leaves and dirt, her axe in front of her held in both hands. The knuckles white as she stood before Toothless, panting breaths out, with a look of such disgust and hatred in her eyes, it made him flinch back behind his friend, afraid of her, trusting Toothless to keep him safe.
Astrid stared at the two abominations before her, the larger baring its teeth and risen up on it's hinds legs, snarling and growling and hissing at her as the smaller one; the one that had killed the Chief's son and a near-killed dozens of Berk's men in it's slaughter in the arena was cowering behind it, terrified of her and she stood up a little straighter. Astrid was sixteen, but had already proved her mettle in battle and in raids; the clashing of steel and roar of her enemies beneath her axe as they fell was something that excited her and fulfilled her now, and ordinarily she would've never dared challenge a dragon as rare and prestigious as a Night Fury - but she wasn't even disheartened at the sight of two of the monsters.
Upon discovering the escape of the very creature that had murdered his son, Stoick the Vast seemed to have the life sucked out of him, the sight of the burned bola and the scorch marks, the melted chains to the roof was like he'd been punched in his massive gut by a force unseen.
She had never heard their Chief whisper like that and never seen him disappear into his empty house like he had that morning, and she was going to do something about it if it killed her; and judging by how the dragon before her bellowed and hissed, she just might.
Squaring her shoulders she stared at it, waiting for it to rush her, to try and clamp those powerful jaws around her body, only for it to feel her axe in it's skull, breathing evenly at it as she waited.
With a flash of it's teeth it seemed to sneer at her, condescending before it leaned down, and she saw that telltale white hot heat building in its throat and she cursed, looking to her sides for cover; there was a round stone a few steps behind her but her mind was racing - could she make it? Could she dodge in time and get behind the stone? Was she fast enough?
The doubt left her as soon as she spotted the dragon behind it, clearly weaker and smaller and she sneered right back at the beast as the hiss of heat got louder and the flame in it's throat turned blue, and hefted her axe and reeled back, tossing it like she had hundreds of times.
Throwing it straight at the beast cowering behind it's friend, who reared up in terror and screeched, the pupils become slits as it scrambled back and tried to duck enough; the axe clearing it's friend with a whoosh of wood and steel, the fire dying it's throat.
But the satisfying crack and thud never came— and Astrid's jaw hung wide open.
It had centred itself, tilted it's head to the side; and caught the handle in it's teeth.
There was no wound, no kill, just a slight trickle of blood, the handle just angled enough that it had put a thin scratch on it's jaw - had it been a sword the straight blade would have sunk into the beast's throat at it's tip.
The dragon seemed to realise it was holding the axe in its mouth, caught in it's teeth and spat it out as if it were poison, stepping away and the other gave a worried soft sound that drifted to her ears, and she shook her head, forgetting herself, and reached to her boot, tugging the hilt of a knife out with a slight song of steel as she pulled, putting it in her fist and charging.
The axe forgotten, the other turned again, eyes boring into her and preparing to catch her, this time with only tooth and claw, roaring into her face so hard the blast of hot air nearly bowling her over but she ducked underneath the blindingly fast snap of jaw and tried to bring her hand up into the creatures neck to end it, but was batted away by a paw, the strength of it knocking her away onto the ground, the knife out of her hand and across toward the lake, and she was rolled onto her front, the massive monster staring at her, paws on her elbow joints, pinning her with its size and bellowing at it.
The dragon was met with another roar, and she looked underneath its legs, the other running over to him and standing on the opposite side of her, and she was now a chew toy between two dragons. Excellent.
What preceded was the strangest thing she'd ever seen before - they were both conversing with each other from what she could tell, hisses and growls and snaps above her. She diligently tried to wriggle away, to get free, but couldn't, the paws on her elbows stuck tight, so she was trapped under a growling match between the two, their snaps getting louder and more angry as it went on, until she had enough.
"Would you please just eat me already!" She yelled indignantly at the dragon who'd pinned her.
Snarling, it looked annoyedly between her and the other Night Fury before it grunted at the other, snorting and it released her. Scrambling up onto her feet she stared between them both; running wouldn't get her anywhere except either incinerated or gored, she knew that. If she was alive, her enemy wanted it so.
A gentle sound came from the dragon behind her and she slowly turned, fighting her instinct to not have her back to the other, stronger one, but once she found herself looking at the dragon, she stared down at it. Taking it in, it had darker green eyes than it's friend, and it seemed afraid, which she pressed quickly, standing straight and leering at the thing, which stepped away hesitantly and it sighed, defeatedly.
And for the second time that day, Astrid was absolutely bewildered.
The dragon was scraping something into the ground with a claw - runes, her `language; it had written something; the wrong way up, but she knew it was norse.
Slowly turning her head, she blinked as she read what the monster had written in the dirt with a claw.
'I Hiccup.'
This must be some evil magic born of Hel, some trick to get her to not tell the village where they were. But as she caught it's gaze again, she realised she knew those eyes. Eyes she'd seen poking out of the blacksmith's window as she passed, that had met her gaze across the Great Hall at dinner, that had hidden themselves from her as her entourage of friends bullied him.
Astrid Hofferson for the first time in her life, turned, and fled.