Chapter 3: The Blood Ground of Vikings

Devastating winter was now upon them, and she learned why it was so devastating. The first storm caught her by surprise. The blizzard lasted for two days. Their ship rocked on the small waves, sometimes crashing into the dock. When it was over Windstreak was half frozen and the ship had taken on some water. Thankfully, Mulch and Bucket came by to check on her after the storm and pointed her in the direction of Fishguts, a shipwright.

First he inspected the damage to the hulls, and the stall that she wanted to make warmer for her horse. Finally they set down for some negotiating. He could repair the hulls easily and only asked for a kitten from Silverwhiskers' next litter, and she agreed on the deal. The stall was harder though, because it had been added onto the ship later when they first got Windstreak, and the wood was old. He advised her to have Windstreak moved to one of the farms and to put a collar on her, although everyone on the island knew who owned the only horse on Berk.

Mira hated to be far off from Windstreak, even if it was only a fifteen minute hike to Mulch and Bucket's farm, but she needed to do what was best for her valiant steed. She slipped the collar around her throat and arranged to return three chicks in exchange for Windstreak's housing. She didn't really need very many chickens anyway.

In the second week of Devastating Winter, she saw her first dragon. A raid had come upon them. Mira woke to crying children. She raced to the deck and watched in fear as the great lizards flew overhead, setting fire to all that moved in their quest for food.

They set fire to the deck and mast. Mira screamed her outrage and raced back and forth, fighting the blaze. One dragon, blue and green spotted with the air of some sort of bird, landed on the deck and looked at her with one beady eye. Mira, still firmly in the clutches of her fury and knowing her siblings were still below, trapped by the flames, tossed a bucket of water at the thing's head.

It squawked, breathed a few more flames, and retreated when Mira took up an oar in an attempt to brain it. A Viking had seen the commotion and got some friends to race down to her aid, they caught the beast and dragged it off, talking about some sort of training.

"Are you alright?" Stoick asked. He'd been one of the ones to race down. He had knocked the dragon out with one punch and then helped her put out the fires. The damage wasn't too bad, although she would have to replace the sail and maybe the mast.

"Just a few burns," She answered, still trying to catch her breath. "So that was a dragon?"

"Aye, a Deadly Nadder. You're lucky it wasn't worse." He told her.

"M-Mira?" They both turned around. At the door to the cabin stood her brothers, Joe was carrying Betty, who was sniffling. Mira took a long look at them, knelt on one knee, and opened her arms. They were soon filled with scared children, asking her what was going on and if the scary monsters would come back.

Mira was able to finally coax them back to bed, but the sky had already started to brighten up and she needed to see about repairs. Fishguts could replace the mask easily, and he asked for no payment. After a dragon attack the only thing anyone wanted to trade for was another pair of helping hands to pass up tools for repairs.

Windstreak got a good workout, lugging timber from the forest. A strong Viking could carry a large log without a problem, but Windstreak could cart five or six of them in one trip. Her ship was repaired in no time and she learned why nearly everyone on Berk had wood working experience. There were a lot of repairs to see to before the next storm.

After that first surprise winter Mira learned it was better to bundle up the kids and catch the cats and bring them to the Great Hall. It was warmer, everyone could pull their food in bad times, and they weren't forever being bashed against the docks. Once, near the end of the season, the barns were destroyed and the animals had to come in with them.

"Hey Mira, how have you been doing?" Tuffnut asked her during one of the storms.

Devastating winter was just about over, but it seemed to be doing its best to get every last soul it could.

"Hello Tuffnut, not too badly, I didn't have to chase Quickdash high and low to bring him here this time." Mira looks at the male cat. He seemed to have finally understood that it was warmer in the Great Hall, although he still preferred the ship on any other day.

"So you're Mira, I've got a bone to pick with you!" The speaker was an old man leaning heavily on a walking stick. He had warts and wrinkles and only three teeth. Beside him was an equally disgusting sheep, with ragged and dirty wool.

"Is there a problem I can help you with?" She asked, trying to think if she had ever offended this old man before. She sternly scolded herself to stop from staring at his rotted teeth.

"There had better be!" He cursed, spitting on the floor.

Jon made a gagging sound and retreated to his brother's side, as if the gob was poisonous.

"Those dang cats of yours start yowling all hours of the day and night, I won't have it!" he complained.

"Most of the cats belong to other villagers now, and only the female ones yowl." She informed him. "They do it because they're adults now and are going into heat." Silverwhiskers was pregnant again, still in the early stages though.

"There isn't anything I can do about it, I'm afraid." She said as she holds her baby sister close while the old man cursed and made some noises but most of the people ignored him.

The cats had begun proving their worth in keeping the small pests away. Mulch and Bucket in particular claimed they had only lost half the usual amount of feed, and that was mostly due to Bucket. The other farmers were clamoring for kittens of their own.

"Uh, hey, Mira," She looked up from where she was feeding Betty to see Hiccup. They hadn't talked much since the day of the tour, even though she sometimes did see Gobber when she went to the smithy.

"My dad, you know, the chief, wanted me to come over and talk to you about getting a cat." He said uncomfortably.

Mira hadn't immediately known that Stoick was Hiccup's father. It seemed amazing to her that a man with dragon's blood could have a boy with bird's blood. She had never mentioned it, of course, but it seemed sometimes that everyone else was of the same opinion.

"Well, Silverwhiskers is pregnant again, she's due in another couple months." She informed him. "She's likely to have anywhere between 2 and 8 kittens this litter, and I've already promised one to Fishguts. I'll save one for you, but you can't have one until its five weeks old, that's when they can safely leave their mama."

"Right, right," Hiccup rubs the back of his neck.

She couldn't tell if he was really listening. He was staring in Astrid's direction, where she was teasing Crookshanks into standing on his hind legs and fighting for a fish. Maybe it wasn't his dad who wanted the cat, maybe it was Hiccup.

"So… what do you want to trade for a kitten?" He asked, coughing. Astrid had wandered over to a group of bigger Vikings who were sharing stories of dragon raids.

"I can't read. Could you teach me, since we're stuck inside most of the time anyway?" She asked. A fisherman's daughter didn't need to know how to read, but most Vikings could read now and she wanted to as well, even if it wasn't much use.

"Sure, I guess, but that seems pretty small." Now whenever a storm picked up the two would sequester a table and he'd walk her through the different letters. On clear days she would quiz herself on what she knew, and by the start of Almost Spring she could recognize simple words and sentences.

Fishguts came by and picked one of the five kittens to be given to him when it was old enough. He'd chosen a kitten with smoky fur and jokingly thought to name him Ashbiter. Stoick was the one who came by and chose a ginger female. More Vikings came for the other three, each anxious to be rid of their pests.

Spitelout, Snotlout's father, chose a male tabby. Mrs. Thorston picked the gray female. The Ovesdale's oldest daughter decided she wanted the last solid black kitten. Now Mira was that much richer, now having a goat, one laying hen, and another lamb.

With the snow starting to melt everyone was getting ready for planting season. Mira was back to work with Windstreak, fishing in her spare time and even setting out lobster traps. With a few months to her name Mira was now considered to be a true member of the Berkian society, and was gifted with a helmet to celebrate it. She made sure to wear it every day, to show everyone how thankful she was that she had been accepted. She was even getting used to the chilly weather, though she doubted she'd ever bare her arms again.

With the return of lobsters, came the return of Mildew. He demanded that she haul his cabbage seeds for him in the afternoon, rather than the mornings she usually ran. Afternoons, in her fair opinion, were for fishing and riding, not working, but she accepted without complaint. He complained the whole time, and somehow roped her into helping him plant and into cleaning out his sheep's wool before she could escape. By that time the sun was ready to set, and she had no opportunity for riding that day, so she returned Windstreak to her new stable, found the boys, and went home.

Hiccup hadn't been kidding when he said spring only lasted for two weeks. It seemed Berk was a land of extremes, and that included temperature. Mira shed her winter coat and went now in only her blue spring dress, though by now it was shorter than was mannerly. If anyone from her old life could see her, oh how they'd all roar at her immodesty!

Mira now had eggs to look forward to for breakfast, and began making turnovers too. She could trade them for things like yak milk, which was alright once one got over the slightly bitter after taste. She grew comfortable in her life, and even the occasional dragon raid couldn't douse her contentment. They mostly stayed away from the docks, since they were after the livestock.

Although she couldn't simply stay indoors anymore, she was fourteen now, and apparently that meant she could join the small Vikings in Fire Duty. Her first night was spent more in trying to put out her own dress than a house, but she learned to be as fast as the horse she rode. When the horn blew in the middle of the night she would dress fast and give her brothers strict instructions to stay out of sight.

What was it the priests used to preach about to her? Fire and brimstone, they said, all of Hel was made of Fire and Brimstone. Mira grabbed two buckets and filled them at the well. Her hair wasn't braided, only pulled back tight to keep it out of the way. She yelped when a Gronckle nearly crushed her, and splashed some water on the Hofferson house.

The air was hot and tight. She caught sight of the teenage Vikings from time to time, running around and trying to fight the fires same as her. She even caught a glimpse of Hiccup, which surprised her. She hadn't seen him in a raid before this.

He was being chased by a dragon. The sight brought her up short for a moment. She tossed her head like a startled mare, sprinting forward to try to help. Hiccup had taught her how to read Norse, and he'd given her a tour of Berk. He didn't deserve to be eaten.

"Away from him you lumbering oaf!" She spat as she lunged for the beastie. It roared in confusion, possibly wondering if the small thing wrenching its wings shut was sick or insane, then crashed to the ground. Hiccup stopped running, gasping for breath and calling for help.

Stoick saw Mira wrestle the beast to the ground, downing the dragon, and saw his son in blasting range of its mouth. He grabbed his hammer and slung it at the beast, which stopped struggling and lay dead beneath his blow.

"Are you alright?" He gruffly asked the spit of a girl. She looked surprised, shocked that she had attacked the dragon and saved his son's life.

"Still breathing, chief." She assured him. He nodded and turned to look at his son. The raid was dying down now. The losses weren't so bad, only two sheep lost this time.

"Hiccup, do you have any idea how dangerous that was? If that beast had rolled over, Mira would be dead right now, not it!" He bellowed, attracting the attention of the other Vikings.

"I-I was just-just…" Hiccup stuttered, unable to look his father in the eye. "Trying to help." Stoick sighed.

"I'm leaving tomorrow to the meeting of the Chiefs of the Shivering Shores, so stay out of trouble until I get back." Now he turned back to Mira, who was still recovering with her hands on her knees.

"Good work in downing that dragon, but next time call for someone else's help." She nodded wordlessly and he walked away to take stock of the damage to the housing.

"Thanks for…you know." She blinked at Hiccup, for a moment unsure what he meant. Realization drew her eyes back to the carcass beside her. Dead, with blood still dripping from the head, she shivered.

"Saving your life? Wasn't a problem," She contested easily. She eyed him now, inspecting him for injuries. "You're not hurt?"

"Psshh, no I'm fine!" He laughed. "You know me, they wouldn't know what to do with all this." She couldn't help the giggle at the cute pose he established. His pout did not help matters.

"I have to be going now, Joe and Jon will be worried and Betty will need changing." She straightened up, ignoring the twinge of her back from where she'd fallen off the beast when Stoick's hammer struck.

"Right, then, see ya!" He waved as she trotted off, mane flying in the wind. It had come loose during the struggle.

Mira hadn't known that helping to take down a dragon earned her a share of the meat, hide, horns and fangs. Sven came by and congratulated her on helping to bring down her first dragon, mentioning that if she got a weapon for herself next time she might even kill one. She thanked him politely, though she was still a little stocky from last night. She resolved to see Phlegma about making the hide into clothes, and chose to make necklaces out of the fangs for her brothers.

This is what her old townsfolk had called Going Native. She was a fisherman, but she was also becoming a Viking and most of the time that seemed like a very fine thing to be. She decided that she was going to get some sort of weapon. It had been terrifying, on the back of that dragon and desperately trying to keep it on the ground.

Gobber happily accepted some dragon fangs and some of the meat in exchange for making her a weapon, and asked what she wanted.

"I'm not sure, but I don't want to be stuck on top of a dragon again like last night." She told him honestly. She noticed Hiccup's guilty grin and gave a careless shrug in reply. She'd do it again. She liked Hiccup better than a pile of ashes.

"Well, you haven't got much upper body strength, so I'd say a hammer or mace is out." Gobber said thoughtfully, before turning to his apprentice. "Hiccup, what sort of weapon would best suit Mira here."

"I don't know." He deadpanned, clearly not amused.

"Not good enough, Hiccup." Gobber lightly smacked him on the head. "Think about what sort of physical traits she has. She's not as brawny as some of our women, but she's a sight faster. Strong enough to hold back a dragon's wings, but not enough to throw a hammer the way Stoick did last night."

"So something smaller, since she's fast she doesn't need a lot of reach…how about an axe?" Hiccup guessed. Apparently it was the right answer, because Gobber clapped him on the back almost hard enough to make him fall on the floor.

"Good job Hiccup, an axe is just what she needs!" The blacksmith laughed. "Not a big war axe mind, not until she's got a bit more meat on her bones, but a smaller one for her to get a feel of the weapon for certain."

"We'll have it ready for you in a week, come pick it up then." She nodded, left the meat and a handful of fangs, and decided to do a bit of fishing.

"Mira, there you are!" Mira drew Windstreak to a stop and swiveled around to see Astrid jogging her way. The older girl had a big grin on her face and drew alongside.

"My mother told me that you helped Stoick the Vast take down a dragon last night!" She swung her axe in her hand, miming delivering the final blow. "I've never done that before, but it must've been awesome! I saw you leaving the blacksmith's earlier but couldn't talk then, I was doing my chores. What weapon are you getting?"

"An axe," She answered.

"That's good that means when you get it I can teach you how to use it, like a big sister!" Astrid nodded. "So how'd you take down that dragon?"

"Well, I saw it chasing Hiccup and didn't want him getting eaten, so I chased after them." She paused, retracing her steps last night. "We went by the Thorston house, and I vaulted over those boxes there like I do when I'm mounting Windstreak here. That got me on the dragon's back."

"Then, well, I was afraid it might cart me off to eat me instead, so I grabbed its wings and started pulling them closed so it couldn't fly." She stopped and delivered the fish she was carting to the storage rooms. "Hiccup noticed he wasn't getting chased anymore, and called for help, but I was busy trying not to get thrown off or crushed. Then Chief Stoick threw his hammer, all the way from the tower there to where we were." She pointed to a patch of gravel by the side of the road. The body had been moved already, and she had a portion of it waiting to be used back home.

"Gronckles are the dumbest of the dragons, but they're big and heavy." Astrid informed her, as if she had never known this before. "Most bladed weapons will bounce off the hide; you need something heavy and blunt to do any real damage." She hadn't known that part.

"If you had an axe and did that jumping thing again, you could probably swing your arm around and get the underside of the neck. That's where the armor is the weakest." They both looked up to see Fishlegs standing awkwardly nearby. Evidently he hadn't meant to speak up, as he looked just as surprised as they did.

"I will keep that in mind if ever I feel the urge to wrestle another Gronckles to the ground." She promised him. He still sometimes came to the beach when she was setting her traps or drawing them in.

"My dad saw the whole thing. He says people are starting to call you Mira the Quick." She latched onto the name, the title. Mira the Quick sounded like the heroine in a fanciful tale, the star of an adventure!

"That's the first of us to get a title!" Astrid praised her, reaching up on tip toes so she could pat her sister-in-arms on the back.


Okay, I will update tomorrow because I feel like posting early.