Missing sheep located, a word of thanks, walking. An apology on behalf of the last person, a disgruntled huff, walking. Collecting inventories from across the village for everything from seeds to metals, all involving a lot of walking.
By the end of the day – a long, balmy day with the sun burning bright throughout – Astrid was exhausted, and her clothes and hair were practically dripping with sweat. She probably looked a ragged mess as she forced her stride into the Great Hall, befitting any Viking after a day of solid labour, but she felt like she hadn't accomplished anything.
And she hadn't, not compared to normal, and was twice as worn out to boot. Gods, how did anyone get anything done without their own dragon? Walking everywhere was so slow. Just getting out to the farms and back had taken half the day; she had a new appreciation for why Stoick always left her the jobs out there.
She brushed the sweat from her face and wiped it on her shirt before approaching the food table, grabbing a plate and piling it with cold meats, raw vegetables, and a lump of bread, then picked out a vacant table and plopped down at it. The twins were cackling to themselves near the wall, which was nothing unusual; Astrid ignored them, and they ignored her in turn. Fishlegs was nowhere to be seen, as had been the case for most nights since… since his dragon had come back with five admittedly sort of cute younger Gronckles.
Well, at least there was no sign of-
"Hey, Astrid!" came an unwelcome voice, and Snotlout dropped down next to her moments later. "I'm digging the 'gone swimming' look, it really suits you," he said without a hint of sarcasm.
"Shut up Snotlout," she replied flatly, taking a slightly larger mouthful and just ready to be done with dinner already so she could leave.
"Offer still stands, you know, I've got a dragon, you've got places to be, it's-"
She grabbed the drumstick from his plate and roughly jammed it in his mouth, cutting him off, but he just took a bite and chewed slowly in a way he probably thought was seductive. "That was really hot," he said in a low voice with a stupid smile, his mouth still full.
"Ugh," Astrid grunted in disgust as she rose, tossing the remainder of a carrot in her mouth and grabbing the last lump of meat to stalk to the door.
"See you in the morning babe, I'll be-"
Whatever he was saying was cut off with a yelp and a crash, followed by uproarious laughter from the twins as they rushed over to gloat in his face. Astrid shook her head with a roll of her eyes, allowing a small, short-lived smile as she exited the hall.
She numbly went through the routine, bathing, braiding her hair, maintaining her axe, having a brief and awkward conversation with her father, then going to bed where she wondered why she felt so alone until sleep claimed her. Wake up, get dressed, jog to the Great Hall, get breakfast, find Stoick, start the day.
And of course, the day started with walking. Lots and lots of walking. At least it wasn't raining again.
She was returning to the village with a report from Hork on the current state of their wood supplies when a familiar screech snapped her to her senses and froze her mid-stride. She easily recognised it not only as a Nadder, but as a specific Nadder…
But it wasn't Stormfly walking slowly from the treeline to her side. A feeling of brittle dread settled over her as a pair of Night Furies stalked towards her, watching her with fierce, studious eyes. They'd grown even more since last she'd seen them, she doubted she could even lift Hiccup now, and she was alone, halfway between the logging grounds and the village.
They circled around her, remaining eerily quiet and watching, unblinking, as she turned to keep track of them. What did they want? "I'm s-"
A terse growl cut her off, followed by a loud snort. She'd already apologised anyway, but they hadn't forgiven her. Surely, they had to understand, she had no other choice! If she'd defied the order then the council would have just tried some other way, risking injury and death to all involved.
Or maybe they couldn't understand; they weren't human, after all, however well they could hold a conversation. She offered a warm smile and held out a hand, but went still as Toothy took a menacing step toward her.
Only one step. The two Furies looked at each other, then slinked back into the treeline.
Astrid stared after them, vacantly entertaining the notion that she was tired and bored enough to have imagined the encounter, and was just about to follow after them when Stormfly stepped from the trees. Astrid immediately perked at the sight of her dragon, carefully holding up a hand. "Hey girl, long time no see," she said gently, taking slow steps forward.
As before, Stormfly walked up to her, nudged her hand, and pulled away. Astrid felt close to tears, Stormfly was the only dragon she ever wanted to fly with, but she just didn't seem to understand. What did she and the Furies want?
Stormfly chirped and ruffled her wings, and Astrid couldn't suppress a gasp as four small Nadders, heads just a little too big for their bodies, bolted from the trees and nearly bowled her over. They crowded around her and stuck their noses in her hair, face, back, anything they could get to, chirping and bouncing excitedly. Once she got through the jarring change in atmosphere, she laughed at the sheer curiosity and joy of the dragons around her, then made an embarrassingly shrill sound as one stuck its nose up the back of her skirt, catching it on its horn and lifting her from the ground.
A bark sounded out and she fell to the ground, then scrambled to her feet to find them standing obediently behind Stormfly. "You're… their mother," she said slowly as it dawned on her. "They're your babies! Oh Stormfly, they're beautiful, I…"
She found herself at a loss for words. Again she held her hand to her dragon, and sighed in relief as Stormfly leaned into it, and then into her. Astrid choked out a laugh and hugged her dragon's head, stroking her cheeks and snout, then peered around at her fledglings. She wanted to hug and scratch and play with them so badly it almost hurt to hold herself back, but her view of them was suddenly blocked by a wing.
Stormfly hissed to all five of them in turn, then tucked away the wing and gently nudged Astrid forward. Well, with Stormfly hopefully giving her a lift back, she now had some time that would otherwise be spent walking…
Ignoring the spluttering protests, Dreamer laughed as he and Wanderer pinned Tuffnut to the ground to ferociously lick him, their whole bodies wagging enthusiastically. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but the warm-nest had been boring, and he was now really looking forward to the chaotic twin arranging something for them to do. He also regretted leaving the way he did, without explanation or even a farewell. He also felt inclined to add his scent to that of the other fledglings that were on him, and had no reason to ignore whatever instinct it fulfilled.
Something assaulted Dreamer's shoulders with a pleasant scratching, and he leaned into it, purring loudly. Tuffnut took the opportunity to tackle Wanderer, somehow doing so from where he'd been lying on his back, and both Nightstrikers quickly became limp, rumbling puddles with the occasional kicking leg.
It was nice to know they'd been missed, even by Ruffnut, who cooed adoringly at them both as she reduced Dreamer to a pathetic lump of scales.
"I'm gonna regret this but I don't care!" she announced, and Dreamer thrashed with a squeak as she tickled his belly. "Yep, I have the regrets," she groaned from her back, several feet away, "but still don't care!"
Dreamer flipped upright and padded over to her, briefly scented her, then slowly raised a paw and flexed his claws.
"Oh no you don't!" She scampered backwards, moving impressively fast for someone lying on their back, then lunged at him and swung around onto his back. Dreamer stood still, not quite sure what to make of what she'd done.
"Uh… That might not be a good idea sis…"
"Hah! Well I'd like to see him tickle me from…"
She trailed off as Dreamer slowly turned his head to give her with the most evil smile he could muster, full of teeth and with partially narrowed eyes. "Uh oh…"
He hunched his wings forward to pin her legs to his sides. You wanted to ride a Nightstriker… Request granted! He leaped forward, feeling her weight briefly shift as her arms flailed before she hit his back, then spun right and halted abruptly, swinging her around to slap against his neck and head. He then bucked, releasing her legs to send her flailing up into the air, where she had time for a brief shout of alarm during her descent back to the ground.
"Ha! Beautifully executed!" Tuffnut crowed, puffing his chest out while Ruffnut groggily propped herself up. "A healthy dose of pain but not too much, some respectable hang time, maybe a bit short but better than dragging it out. You have done well, my disciple!"
Wanderer rolled his eyes with a huff, then used his tail to sweep Tuffnut's legs out from under him.
"I bow to the true master!" he shouted into the grass.
The Nightstrikers had flown the whole way from the warm-nest in a single flight and immediately followed that with a long hunt in the forest before coming straight here, so Dreamer was weary and tired, but at the same time he felt he was going to explode with energy; he was bouncing on the spot, his paws leaving the ground. He tackled Wanderer, rolling over him to nip his tail, then sprinted circles around the nearest building with growling at his heels.
The growls tapered off and he quickly looked back, expecting Wanderer to have circled the other way, in time to see Wanderer pounce him. They tumbled out into the path where they playfully bit and batted each other, a growling tangle of limbs, just revelling in being… being…
Home, Dreamer thought warmly, letting the feeling rise in his chest and overflow into his being. It was good to be home.
The twins' laughs abruptly died off, and Wanderer went still and tense a moment later. Dreamer removed his gums from Wanderer's ear in time to see Astrid descend on Stormfly, riding bareback and followed by four nervously excited Spine-Tail fledglings.
"You don't deserve that," Tuffnut said to her flatly, then caught the punch Ruffnut threw at him and used it to push her back.
"Yeah well I don't need your approval," Astrid shot back at him as she dismounted. "Just Stormfly's. Speaking of which, you'll take her fledglings too, right?"
"Yeah, sure. Just go stand over there." He pointed to somewhere behind him.
"…Why?" Astrid growled in warning.
"Because I can't do anything with them while you're in my line of sight."
They glared at each other for a long moment, but then Astrid patted Stormfly's cheek and stalked past him. "I need to get some things," she gritted, glancing flatly at the Nightstrikers before walking stiffly to her house.
Dreamer sighed as she left, the weight of the long day catching up to him. He vaguely wondered what state their den was in. Wrrr, it was a cave, so probably just a bit dusty at most. A deep, dark, cool, quiet cave…
Wanderer echoing his drowsy purr, they hopped into the air and glided down the village, letting the ground fall away below them and then riding the winds over the docks. There were several differences around the training ring now, Dreamer noted, many more caves carved into the mountain, one of which at ground level was barred by an iron-bound wooden door. Hrrr, he'd need to investigate that later.
Later. Now, he drifted after Wanderer and tucked his wings to duck into their den – and nearly smacked his head on the entrance as he failed to account for his growth since winter. If Wanderer noticed, he didn't draw attention to it.
The day was warm and the stone cool, which Dreamer stretched out on with a hearty purr. Wanderer drifted off almost immediately, leaving Dreamer a few moments of solitude before he drifted off himself. In those moments, he revelled in something he had not experienced in a long time.
Tranquil, near total silence.
"Welcome to dragon training!"
Dreamer cocked his head with a wry smirk as Tuffnut dramatically threw open the heavy door to the one closed-off cave around the training ring, the freshly forged metal glinting in the warm light of dawn. "What? We're training dragons, and the name was available. You know, after… well, yeah."
"I'm helping!" the young boy with him declared confidently.
"Shut it Gustav. Anyway, what with all the smallish dragons we got now, someone needed to take care of them. And that someone is me. Tuffnut! I'm gonna train the Hel outta you dragons to be the best damn dragons you can be!"
Purring in a confused amusement, Dreamer shared a look with Wanderer and then looked around, confirming no other dragons had snuck up on him, then tilted his head at Tuffnut.
"You gotta call them first," Gustav supplied helpfully. "Ooh can I do it today?"
"Not on your life," Tuffnut growled, prodding Gustav in the chest, "you remember what happened-"
But Gustav ignored him, spinning and cupping his hands over his mouth to shout "Kallay, kallay!"
There was a rush of activity, the little caves dotted in the rock suddenly emitting Spine-Tail and Rock-Scale fledglings in a flurry of wings that all converged on Tuffnut, who disappeared under them with a squawk.
"Or was it 'kallah kallah'," Gustav mused, stroking his chin and apparently totally oblivious to the scene behind him.
Dreamer chuckled incredulously; some things never changed. Wanderer loudly barked authority, summons, grabbing the fledglings' attention and revealing a still-standing but significantly more dishevelled Tuffnut. The teen rocked on his feet, then advanced murderously on Gustav.
"Man, I'm starving, I'm gonna go grab a bite," the kid announced jovially, then jogged off towards the path and disappeared from sight.
"I swear to Thor, I'm gonna mace him so hard his grandkids are gonna see double," Tuffnut growled, wringing an imaginary neck.
Dreamer chuckled again, then padded forward to wind around Tuffnut with a loud purr. As he did so, he furtively gazed past the door, trying to peer through the relative darkness inside.
"Hey, I'm onto you," Tuffnut chided warmly, waving a finger in front of his nose and shooing him away. "This cave's off-limits, no going in. Yes, even you. No, acting all cute and adorable won't work." Dreamer switched to crestfallen, letting his eyes and frills droop sadly. "Aw dear, is da widdle dwagon sad? Well I've got just the thing for that!"
That had Dreamer perking curiously as Tuffnut ducked into the cave. What could he-
A round thing rolled out of the darkness, and no sooner than it had rolled to a stop it was whisked away by a Spine-Tail, a whole clutch stampeding after it. Wanderer at least was ready for the second one, bounding up to it and glaring at the remaining fledglings as if daring them to approach. He then avidly sniffed it up and down, gradually walking around it for new angles.
Dreamer was with him a moment later, an odd noise rumbling in the back of his throat that he vacantly attributed to curiosity. The object was somewhat wider than his head and roughly spherical, what looked to be scraps of thick leather sewn together but with next to none of the scent of the pungent treatment it was given. Instead it smelled of dirt, grass, and fledglings, with odd irregular whiffs of Viking.
Wanderer shoved his curious nose under the ball, then went absolutely still to watch it intently as it rolled about two feet and wobbled to a halt.
The Nightstrikers glanced at each other.
But Dreamer was faster! He pounced the ball, attempting to grab it in his teeth but only succeeding in knocking it forward. Wanderer leaped over him and tried to grapple it, but ended up rolling forward on it with a surprised yelp. The ball slipped out from under his side while he scrambled to find his footing, and Dreamer pounced it more carefully to securely grapple it.
However, he discovered it was just a little too big to sink his teeth into to actually pick it up, and that moment was all Wanderer needed to catch up and discover the same thing in trying to take it himself. They grappled it from opposite sides, growling playfully and hasting to be the first to find a grip on it.
The winner of that race was Dreamer, enabling him to wrench the toy from Wanderer and bolt with it – only to discover that it prevented his paws from reaching forward to run, unless he held it high enough he couldn't see where he was going. It was only moments before a heavy weight dropped onto his back, and the ball was sent rolling away; he barely noticed the tip of a tooth snapping off, that was just a thing that happened sometimes.
Some indeterminate amount of time later, Dreamer lay on his back with his chest heaving while Wanderer triumphantly chewed and licked the ball. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun, and stretched his legs into the air with a happy purr.
"So, what'd you think? Pretty neat huh?"
"Too big for bite," Dreamer grumbled mildly. "Need smaller play-thing." They could really make a game out of it if he could actually run with it, or reliably pick it up at all.
"That's the point, dummy," Tuffnut said with an amused roll of his eyes. "Otherwise someone'd just run off with it and it'd be boring."
…Rrmm, that actually made a weird sort of sense. What else is he hiding in there I wonder… Dreamer rolled to his paws and trotted towards the strange cave, though the door was shut again. Not that a closed door was much of an obstacle.
Tuffnut, on the other paw, swatted his sub-wing as he passed, causing Dreamer to jump and spin with an affronted hiss. "Nope, I mean it," Tuffnut said levelly, "no dragons in my cave of fun stuff."
Cute hadn't worked… Had never worked on Tuffnut, really. I'll fight you for it! Dreamer growled playfully, rearing to swat at Tuffnut-
The teen stepped inside the strike and instantly found the sensitive spot behind Dreamer's jaw, who found himself blinking groggily on his side a moment later.
Actually, that was a problem, Dreamer realised with a growl at himself. He knew how to fight and defend himself against dragons, but he was unfamiliar with Long-Paws and their ability to drop him with a firm touch; a frustrating weakness, to say the least. And if he'd learned anything in the last few years, it was that Long-Paws were by far the greatest danger to Nightstrikers.
"Ha! Tuffnut, master of Night Furies! But seriously, stay outta my stuff."
"You alpha my tail," Dreamer grumbled light-heartedly as he got back to his paws.
"Alpha of your butt and the rest of you, mister. Officially, even, whatever that means. Eh, who cares."
Dreamer paused mid-step, suddenly realising what they were doing. Tuffnut had learned Dragonese? And had apparently been appointed in some official capacity.
Tuffnut had a job.
"Hey, no laughing at your alpha!"
Berk had lost much of the Nightstrikers' trust, and Dreamer surprised himself with his own reticence to enter any structures lest they be trapped inside a third time. They managed going into the Great Hall, if it wasn't too crowded and the weather was miserable enough, but much preferred to hunt meals themselves or get fish straight from the dock.
A few weeks into their return, Dreamer realised Tuffnut was subtly nudging them back into that trust. The balls they played with were stuffed with old clothes and released strong Viking scents when played with, random people would throw them fish when the teen was around, and he regularly helped fill the gaps in their knowledge of Viking language and culture; that last one was really only applicable to Wanderer, but Dreamer played along. And that was just what he'd noticed, the self-proclaimed disciple of Loki was tricky when he put his mind to something.
Not that Dreamer particularly minded, they weren't being pushed into doing anything they didn't want to do or that didn't feel safe. Wanderer had voiced much the same thoughts on the matter, as Tuffnut had never shown anything other than total support for their wellbeing; he didn't even share Ruffnut's and Snotlout's mild grudges for taking their dragons.
But there was a thorn in Dreamer's side, one that stilled his flight every time he bumped against it. He did his best to pretend Astrid didn't exist, but he had to acknowledge that she was influential, particularly when involving dragons, and would likely one day be leading the village.
Not only had she trapped and traded them against their will, but she now seemed to think less of them for it. He was just an animal in her mind, livestock, a cute pet. Maybe it was her way of feeling better about what she'd done, or maybe she truly just didn't get it. Either way, it felt like a rock in his stomach every time she beckoned to him or offered him fish or particularly sweet-grass. Fishlegs had asked them about it, but they refused him an answer; there was no point if she didn't work it out for herself.
On the other paw, she didn't seem to be getting it on her own, and their frustration with each other only grew deeper.
But on this day, Dreamer was not thinking of Astrid. He pumped the heavy air with powerful wing-strokes, delighting in the warm wind rushing over his face while keeping an eye on the speck in the sky above. It reached the apex of its trajectory and gradually fell back to Midgard, but not before he-
It clipped his nose as it whizzed past him, hurtling down to the ocean below. He huffed in annoyance and folded his wings to drop down after it, watching for where it struck the choppy waves. The tightly bound lump of leather bobbed to the surface after only a few moments, and Dreamer swung around to snatch it from the water. While he laboured back up to the bridge, he watched Wanderer race out after his own ball.
He alighted on the thick railing, digging his claws into the damp wood and dropping the soggy fist-sized ball at the feet of the teen, eagerly waiting for it to be thrown again. The boy was maybe fourteen or fifteen and somewhat tall and lanky, but the similarities to Dreamer's last memories as a human ended there.
Dreamer watched him grab the ball from the wooden boards, remained still as he pretended to throw it, then pushed off from the rail as it was again thrown high into the sky, out over the channel between the island and the village. Personally, Dreamer felt it was somewhat demeaning, but the boy didn't seem to mind standing there to throw a ball sheerly for the entertainment of a young Nightstriker. Maybe some sort of spring-loaded system…
This time he successfully snatched the ball from the sky and roared in triumph around it, then turned in a lazy circle back and skimmed the rock cliff at the back of the village on the way back up to the bridge. Again he alighted on the rail and dropped the toy, waiting impatiently for-
He nearly fell backwards off the rail as he realised that the toned muscles and flash of blonde hair were not those of the kid he'd been playing with.
Slight amusement flickered across Astrid's face, but also pain and annoyance. She watched him curiously as she crouched to pick up the ball, then stood and threw it firmly into the sky behind Dreamer. He just stared at her impassively, letting the ball disappear to the wind and sea behind him.
She lost it. "I don't get what you want from me!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms out, but then visibly restrained herself and calmed. "Please tell me, you want what?" she asked suddenly, her expression pleading, sad.
Dreamer tilted his head, frills flaring of their own accord. It was unusual for anyone to talk to them in Dragonese anymore, even Tuffnut used Norse other than to teach the other fledglings how to talk properly. She was trying…
"We trusted you," he said tersely. "Not trust now."
"But-"
"That not matter," he cut her off with a growl. "You did us bad." He took a deep breath, trying to work out what, if anything, he wanted to say. "You trust me?" he eventually asked, subtly hooking his tail under the thick railing.
"I-"
Dreamer lunged forwards, claws outstretched, but halted at an impossible angle by standing off from the rail while still hanging onto it with his tail. He never got near her, she jumped backwards ready to fend him off and with a hand to her axe, though she at least didn't draw it.
He snorted at her, then awkwardly backed up onto the rail, having received the answer to his question. And if she did not trust him, how could he trust her?
This was so frustrating. Astrid stood for the future of Berk, she needed to get this, but if he just told her to put her life in his claws she would only force herself to do it, and when he then did nothing to her – he'd never had any intention of retribution – it would only reinforce the rotten thoughts she harboured. She needed to willingly accept that he might harm or kill her for her actions, so that when they spared her she would understand they were giving her their mercy and forgiveness, not acceptance of her actions.
If only she could get past that stupid warrior's instinct to swing her axe when someone got angry with her. Something needed to be done, but Dreamer just couldn't work it out and was more or less left with waiting for some miracle opportunity to present itself.
He let out a tense sigh and trotted along the rail towards where Wanderer was watching, whose expression was as bitter and frustrated as Dreamer felt. "You tell her, she still not understand," he grumbled.
Dreamer just growled under his breath. "I need do thing, not think. Race?"
Wings flared dramatically by way of response, and they sped off over the jagged wilderness of Berk's forests.
As was frequent of summer, the morning sky was thick with dark clouds that emptied sheets of rain over the land and sea in irregular waves. The Nightstrikers were waiting for a lull in the storm to vacate their den, resigned to another day of mostly loitering in the support braces of the Great Hall.
A flash of light out over the water grabbed Dreamer's attention, the instant peal of thunder echoing off the sky and up the mountain. The lightning cut a pale scar down the side of his vision, but it moved with his sight as he turned to the source. Had there been something falling into the water just now? Hrrr, there was definitely something on the water, a boat probably; hopefully it hadn't been what was struck. It was hard to see through the rain.
He began to feel nervous, a sense of foreboding deep in his gut. "If we want go, we need go now," he said to his friend; this seemed as light as the rain was going to get in the foreseeable future anyway.
"Yes," Wanderer agreed glumly, then grimaced as they leapt out into the wet.
The water was only a mild irritant, but it was persistent and dreary. Even in this lull it drummed on his ears and eyes, and ran back to trickle into his nostrils and mouth. There wasn't any point even shaking his head to try to clear it, the persistent drizzle constantly streamed down his face and off his body. It wasn't all that cold, just unpleasant.
As they neared the village, the sense of dread grew deeper. Something was going on, there were dragons in the air, out in this miserable weather, but none of the teens', and there were little congregations gathering on cliffs. They all faced towards the boat.
The rain redoubled for a moment, and he reflexively flattened his ears more tightly to his neck as he glanced beside him. Wanderer's attention was not on the village, instead he warily watched where the lightning had struck.
That was a point, Thor had never shown displeasure at Dreamer bearing his namesake before but there was no reason to tempt a strike of his hammer. He dropped down lower as the water below gave way to the dark landmass of the village-
And then he went completely stiff as a furious screech tore through the air, a sound unlike anything from any dragon he had ever heard before. It sounded almost metallic, like dragging a heavy axe over the anvil; his scales felt as if they were standing on end.
It had come from the direction of the boat. He followed Wanderer down to the roof of the forge, of which they stood at the edge to peer through the rain, each holding up a wing to shield their faces.
"I not know that floating-tree-thing," Dreamer called over the rain striking the wooden roof, though they were right next to each other. He could only see the outline of the boat, but it was larger and wider than anything Berk possessed and stood much higher in the water.
"Rock-Scales there?" Wanderer called back. Dreamer scanned the sky and indeed there seemed to be three smaller figures in the air, flying towards Berk. Had they come from the boat?
A shadow dropped from the clouds, hurtling towards the Rock-Scales, and did not slow down. It slammed into the furthest, tearing it from the sky and leaving it to plummet to the sea below. Dreamer could only stare rigidly as the shadow pulled back up, catching the second which then also fell towards the water, then flew after the third, the fastest of the three.
The tempestuous rain let up a little as they neared, and Dreamer clearly recognised the round bulk of a Rock-Scale, but the shadow following it was foreign. It looked like something halfway between a Nadder and a Nightmare, from what he could make of its shape.
A hunting, triumphant screech rang through the air as the two silhouettes merged, though this time there was enough detail to make out it tearing into the hapless Gronckle. Questions and fear streaked incoherently through Dreamer's mind, keeping him anchored in place.
"Dreamer," Wanderer breathed quietly as the rain hammered down harder than ever, briefly obscuring the sight completely.
But Dreamer didn't hear the rain anymore. He stole a glance up the sloped roof at his best-friend, took in how his stunned silence was giving way to grim determination, his body settling into a fight-ready posture.
When I say fight, that mean we need fight.
Water dripped from Dreamer's teeth as they bared at the shadow, once again visible as the heavy sheet of rain passed over – it was flying directly towards them. There was no question about that. It had just killed three Gronckles, and seemed to have its eyes on them, somehow knowing they were there. He was suddenly very glad he was at least passable in aerial combat, having been practising hard for months now.
A heartbeat passed while he waited for Wanderer to give the order, to fight, to kill, to protect his-
"Flee," Wanderer hissed, then launched himself toward the threat.
Dreamer completely locked up as he watched Wanderer speed away, a single thought in his otherwise totally blank mind; there was only one reason Wanderer would want to fight without him.
He coiled, ready to leap after his stupid friend, but hesitated; Wanderer had suddenly swerved to the side, and there was a weird oily feeling in the air-
Blinding light filled his sight in that moment of hesitation.
KA-
-THOOOM
Wanderer's flight faltered as the sound slammed into his ears, though they were pressed tightly to his neck. He'd blinked as the light lanced past him, pushing through a feeling of utter dread like a rock in his belly in knowing what had been behind him only moments before.
He recovered and shook the ringing from his head, then growled furiously at the Storm-Wing. He didn't turn back to check his Dreamer was safe, he couldn't change that outcome by doing anything other than taking this thing's attention long enough for Dreamer to escape. Its ability to hurl lightning from its mouth – less destructive and with a shorter range than Nightstriker fire but even faster and more lethal – would be his death if he just turned and tried to flee now anyway.
His wings beat the sodden air to pull him forward, then threw him out of the way as the Storm-Wing lunged at him. In that moment he saw there was something strange about its shape…
And then he panicked a little as he lost sight of it. He flicked his sub-wings to shake the water off but they immediately became soaked again, refusing to make the shrill sound that would allow him to see. Grrr, I need my fire… Ground this small body!
There was only one place that wasn't wet, and he angled up towards it. Heavy winds buffeted him, but he at least was big enough now to ride through them to break into the cover of the clouds above. They totally obscured his sight, but he pushed through them, higher and higher towards the clear skies above.
That feeling returned again, some sense in his scales tingling in warning, and he desperately threw himself downward again. The cloud lit up around him and another deafening crack of thunder proved his wariness warranted. Not possible! The Storm-Wing could see through this dense cloud!?
That had to be the case though, it had seen them long before he had flown out to meet it. He bared his teeth as he dodged another strike of lightning. The sounds splitting his ears apart made it difficult to think properly, but he was growing accustomed enough that it didn't knock him out of the air.
The wind tugged at his sub-wings, now he was falling with the rain instead of against it, and he flicked them out to be rewarded by tenuous sight in every direction. For an instant all it showed was murk, but then a shape became evident that was not quite what he was expecting – there was a tall protrusion from the Storm-Wing's back.
It didn't seem like some deformity, but it might explain why Wanderer wasn't dead yet. Even still, it was only a matter of time before the lightning hit him, he needed to give it something else to strike.
Wanderer let himself hurtle right down out of the cloud and to the water, pulling up just above it and weaving around the wall waves; he dismissed the idea of diving in except as a last resort, it was far too wild and turbulent for a young Nightstriker to swim any distance in and would make him easy prey wherever he surfaced.
Another screech sounded above him, punctuated with sharp crackling and buzzing, and then lightning rained down around him.
Astrid turned to lean over the railing of the bridge and gaped as the Skrill lit up just under the clouds, suddenly starkly visible even through the pouring rain. Lightning arced to it from the sky with a distant crackling, and then there was a moment of silence and darkness before it directed all the power of Thor directly down at the sea, as if trying to beat the waves flat with Mjolnir itself. The flashes of light and initial cracks of sound were barely given enough time to clear before the next bolt struck down, the rumbling echoes layering and merging into a frightful tempo.
She at least knew a little of Skrill, that they absorbed lightning from the storm and could direct it at will and therefore had practically no shot limit. They never attacked during a raid though, only on their own, so the strategy for the rare attacks was to shoot at it with catapults and ballistae until it decided to give up, it got what it wanted, or someone got a lucky shot.
But they had dragons now. Astrid tried whistling for Stormfly again and resumed running for the training ring.
The fight that the Skrill was apparently engaged in drifted closer, and her heart caught as she recognised the shape it was fighting against as it sped up from near the water and into the sky. Of course it was them, those Night Furies couldn't stay out of anything.
But they were still young, and didn't even have fire yet, and that was an Odin-cursed Skrill!
She slowed to a jog to whistle through her fingers again, but the rain was heavy and she was still far from Stormfly's stable. No dragon flew to meet her as she resumed running. Whatever she had to do, she was going to get Stormfly moved into the village after all this.
The Night Fury whipped past the Skrill, the shapes difficult to make out in the distance. The Skrill at least wasn't firing its lightning anymore. She lost track of the Fury, but then lightning lit up the sky again and converged on the Skrill. Her heart plummeted as the other shadow, now flying at the Skrill, intercepted one of the bolts and hurtled down to disappear into the sea in the time it took for the light to fade.
A grating roar echoed over Berk as Astrid redoubled her pace, gritting her teeth and trying not to think about what had just happened.
For a time there was no sound other than her breath spluttering through the water on her face, her pulse in her ears, her boots against the wet ground, and the constant hiss of the rain. She'd made about half the distance between the bridge and the ring when the lightning strikes started again, this time directly over Berk.
She whistled again, and finally Stormfly swooped down to her, though of course there was no saddle as it was still early morning and Astrid had not had a chance to fit it. Should she chance going in without it, or spend the extra time?
They wouldn't offer much of a fight if Astrid wasn't strapped in. She directed Stormfly to the ring, landing directly in front of the storage room and hastily grabbing and fitting the saddle.
Eight lightning strikes in the time it took her to get airborne again, a brief period of tense silence while she yanked on straps, and then another crackling recharge. That was what safety had cost Berk. Hopefully it was worth it.
They flew directly for the Skrill, Stormfly never wavering. This was what they had been endlessly training for, neither of them was going to flinch now. Its attention was down on the village as it rained lightning down on it, so she was sure to approach it from slightly above, drawing near to-
"Oooh, is that Astrid up there!?" A sickeningly cheerful voice called out. "One of these Nadders has gotta be you, and third time's the charm, right? Yeah I'm betting it's you, to be approaching from a blind spot. Still thinking like a true warrior! Hey, watch this!"
Another flash of lightning split the sky, momentarily lighting up the carnage below and silhouetting the Skrill… and the person standing on its back.
"HAHAHA isn't it beautiful!?"
"Are you crazy!?" Astrid shouted incredulously, nudging Stormfly around.
"Maybe!" Dagur shouted back as he pulled the Skrill away from the spines that whizzed through the air towards him. "Ooh that was good! My turn!"
Adrenaline gripped Astrid and she yanked on the saddle a bit harder than was probably necessary, Stormfly obligingly moving with haste before a blinding and deafening bolt of lightning lanced past her and off into the distance. A few shakes of the saddle had Stormfly recovering from their subsequent fall – the sound!
But only two more… They laboured up to swoop in and flame the Skrill, which roared so loudly Astrid had to cover one ear, and then another bolt of lightning went wide as it was fired in rage; at least she'd had the foresight to cover Stormfly's ears this time, as much as her own ears rang in protest. One more… She'd also got a glimpse of the rider, standing on its back with one of its spines in one hand and reins in the other, metal armour reflecting the light of the flame. Odd…
"Oooh, you're good!" Dagur called out. "Try this one!"
The Skrill screeched, pulling up in front of them in a hover, and then its wings started sparking. "I've got a bad feeling about this, girl!" Astrid shouted to her dragon, urging her away. No sooner had she finished talking, the Skrill flapped its glowing wings and what could only be described as a solid wall of lightning exploded from it. Astrid's hair sparked and her skin burned as it caught them right at the end of its range, just before it dissipated, and Stormfly roared in pain.
"C'mon Stormfly! Pull through it!" They stumbled in the air, but Stormfly recovered and reluctantly pulled back to the Skrill at Astrid's insistent tugging. It was completely out of shots now, and if there was a delay like before-
But she was proven dreadfully wrong. Almost immediately, the clouds above lit up and crackling light lanced into the Skrill, an errant bolt striking Astrid in the arm. Stormfly immediately pulled to the side as Astrid lost her grip on the saddle, and the Skrill lined up its shot.
Astrid stared death in the face, ready to accept her place in Valhalla.
A shadow hissed past, and the Skrill thrashed and screeched even louder than before, tossing its head back and literally filling the sky with lightning. It splintered and fractured above, splitting into countless forks and lighting everything from the sky to the mountain to the ground.
In that light, Astrid saw the rents in its wing, two long gashes in the silhouette.
She whooped as it spiralled down to the ground, Dagur shouting at it, but partway down it screeched and its mad flight suddenly became more focused and driven.
A piteous squawk from Stormfly put the thought from her mind. They were no longer in any condition to fight, and the enemy had been taken to the ground where more traditional dragon-fighting methods would prevail. She set down near the Chief's hut, then called out in alarm as Stormfly collapsed onto her front.
Astrid climbed off, right arm still hanging limply, and her dragon then craned around to lick at her flank. There seemed to be nothing visible there, not that it was easy to see in the dim light, but Astrid noticed that further down her tail was gradually more scorched and blackened, some of the spines even blistered and bubbled. Hopefully that didn't cause any permanent damage.
Stormfly surprised her by shaking off the damaged spines, even craning around to wrench one out with her teeth. She had never seen the end of her Nadder's tail look so bare, but at least they would be able to apply a salve or something now. Once she was sure everything was safe.
She was halfway through taking the saddle off when Night Fury roars grabbed her attention, Stormfly perking up worriedly as well, and then a dark shape sprinted up the steps to the Great Hall. The doors were closed, Astrid knew, but it didn't hang around, sprinting back down the steps and off across the bridge. It was now only moments ahead of a fuming mad Skrill that ran after it, moving very quickly on just two legs.
Astrid cursed as Stormfly pulled forward to chase, pulling the Nadder back by the half-removed saddle; it would only tangle her if she tried to run or fly now. Well, it would be faster to take it off, and the Skrill wasn't flying any time soon. She wrenched more hastily at the buckles with her one good hand.
Dreamer groaned, wishing the world would stop spinning, and the rain would stop drumming into his cold belly, and his wing would stop hurting-
That suddenly got his attention. His wing was underneath him, so he hastily rolled to his paws on the sodden ground and hissed in pain as the movement tugged it. He gingerly held it up and inspected it, finding it still the right shape and apparently unbroken, but an experimental flap had him cry out in blinding pain.
He carefully tucked it away and surveyed his surroundings. So I can't fly. Great. Next question, why was I laying on my wing?
He was standing next to the forge, though it was looking much messier than usual. Upon further inspection, he noticed one of the workbenches was split in half and the anvil was on the ground, the wooden block it had been sat on apparently having exploded.
The memory of the lightning bolt surfaced. A Skrill! He was lucky that bolt hadn't struck him, Skrill were known for almost never missing. Sometimes their lightning went awry for no reason anyone had been able – or cared – to work out.
Panic seized him and he ran back out into the rain, frantically looking around for-
A furious, hurt screech came from above, closely followed by a crack of thunder. It was a bit hard to tell with how the lights danced over his eyes even after they'd come and gone, but it was fighting something in the air that didn't seem to be a Nightstriker.
With a worried whine, he backed just far enough into the forge that he could watch, just as light exploded from the Skrill. It illuminated everything starkly enough that the braided blonde hair was visible on the Nadder's back; first Wanderer, now Astrid and Storm-Fly…
He yelped in concern as Storm-Fly roared in pain and dropped in the air as she was caught by the edge of the blast, but she recovered quickly and swung back around. Dreamer stared up in horror as the sky lit up with lightning that converged on the Skrill, Stormfly faltering and aborting the attack even after it had died down.
And then fierce relief pulled Dreamer to the ground as a Nightstriker silhouette whipped past, and the following screech was so full of fury, pain, and with a bit of finality that he knew it was grounded. Grounded wing-hunter is easy prey. Both Gobber and Wanderer had said things along the same lines.
"Dreamer!"
Dreamer barked in response and rushed out to meet Wanderer as he swooped down, and they nuzzled each other with relieved whimpers. "You-"
A frightful screech above got both their attention to find the Skrill bearing down on them, clearly fighting its ruined wing. Oh come on…!
Wanderer leapt in the other direction and into the air, but Dreamer only got as far as twitching his wing before the pain crippled him; flying on it might actually ground him permanently. Instead, he sprinted up the village, ignoring a questioning call from Wanderer in favour of running for his life.
A group of warriors rushed in the other direction, some twitching in response at him running for them but continuing on as he ran past them. Oh good, they can-
The sound and sudden luminosity of Dreamer's surroundings told of the Skrill using the lightning wall again.
Never mind.
He ran at full speed all the way up to the Great Hall, taking the wet steps six at a time and scrabbling to a halt in front of the heavy doors. The closed heavy doors.
Spinning around, a glance down at the village revealed a big dark shadow in pursuit, not quite as fast as him but much faster than one would expect of a two-legged dragon, running low to the ground with its wings hunched above it. Wanderer was trying to get its attention with roars of challenge, hunting, but it was ignoring him. For the first time, Dreamer also saw the figure standing on its back.
Even more cold dread poured through him as he realised there was only one person crazy enough to ride a Skrill. No no NO! Not again!
His legs worked automatically, throwing him down the stairs and then onto the bridge to the main island. To the forest.
Despite the dread heavy in his gut and the burning fatigue starting to build in his chest, he was strangely calm about it. Dagur had hunted him endlessly through a forest what felt like an eternity ago, but that was different. These forests were Dreamer's territory, and he was not the terrified little fledgling he had been back then.
He stopped at the treeline to wait for Wanderer and catch his breath, turning back to the Skrill which he'd managed to put a little distance to. His friend was still above it, still trying to get its attention; whether he hadn't noticed Dreamer waiting for him or just didn't care was unclear, but it was probably the latter.
That odd feeling returned, a slick sensation that felt like the air was sliding off him, and a moment later the base of the tree he had just been standing in front of simply exploded. Splinters and chunks of wood bounced painfully off Dreamer's back and flanks as he fled into the forest.
Now, of all times…! RUN you stupid Nightstriker!
Wanderer didn't know why Dreamer wasn't flying other than that something must be stopping him, and that meant he again needed to get this Storm-Wing's attention. Once Dreamer was safely out of harm's way, Wanderer could simply fly away.
But it just wasn't interested in him! Maybe it knew. Maybe the Long-Paw with a heavy paw planted on its neck knew. Either way, a bolt of lightning lanced out towards the trees, freezing Wanderer's heart in his chest for a moment.
A large tree at the forest's edge dropped a wing's span and slowly keeled over, the crash of it hitting the ground clearly audible over the pouring rain. The Storm-Wing barely slowed down, sprinting into the trees and disappearing into the darkness.
Wanderer swooped down and paced the treeline anxiously, trying to work out what he should do. Follow it in? That would be very dangerous, and Dreamer was fast in these trees.
He groaned and stretched the wing that had been struck earlier, still stiff and incredibly painful but not really injured; he would likely not be flying for many lights after this though.
Without warning, Storm-Fly dropped down to the treeline nearby and promptly collapsed onto the ground with a squawk of pain, and the traitorous fledgling-alpha leapt from her back and ran into the trees.
Grrr, she could get herself killed for all Wanderer cared right now. He was more worried about Storm-Fly, who had craned around to lick her flank, and bounded over to her. A quick inspection had him grimacing, the lower half of her tail was devoid of spines and looked blistered and raw, the wounds seeming to extend up to her flanks. She wasn't running anywhere in her condition.
He started licking at her flank to help soothe the wound, but doubts ate away at him. Had Dreamer escaped? Could he even escape with whatever injuries he had sustained, and after running so fast so far through the nest already? And what of the fledgling-alpha?
With a resigned groan, he left Storm-Fly and bounded into the familiar trees to hunt a Storm-Wing in a storm.
"Did anyone see where it went!?" Stoick roared over the deluge, glancing around at the damage. "Get a fire team in there!" he shouted, spotting a three-story house with too much light shining out of a big hole at the front of its roof.
"Chief!" someone called out as they ran up to him, Stoick quickly recognising him. "Think they went o'er the bridge, there was a strike o' there no too long ago!"
Stoick held a hand up and they listened to the patter of the rain. No chaos or carnage, just white noise. "Right, get our best warriors guarding the bridge." He didn't need to tell them to spread out. "Where is Spitelout!?" he roared into the rain.
"Here, Chief," the stalwart man replied, running up to him. "We did wha' we could, bu' most o' them're in Valhalla now. Two survivors, bu' one ain' makin' much sense. The dragons did no make it either."
"Aye." Stoick clapped him on the shoulder.
"There's more, Chief," Spitelout said, a chilling note to his voice. "So far's anyone can tell… there's… someone ridin' it…"
Stoick took a deep breath, his eyes widening. He knew there was something different, it was far from the two or three random attacks he'd seen in the past but he'd just attributed it to having dragons this time. His eyes went to something lodged in the ground, a thick wooden board from the nearby building embedded in the tough dirt as if it were a spear and not a random piece of debris.
"We hold until the storm breaks," he announced to the gathering crowd. "Then we go hunting!" He surveyed the warriors as they roared enthusiastically. "And where in Odin's name is Astrid!?"
"Heeere little Night Fury, come to Dagur!"
Oh sure, we can catch up over breakfast, Dreamer thought sarcastically as he watched through the trees and tried to catch his breath, rivulets of water running from his face and over his paws. The Skrill prowled through the forest, tugging on the reins Dagur had on it but forcibly held to its course.
And now that Dreamer was getting a good look, he had to wonder why Dagur was wearing armour. Metal armour, at that. It had to be heavy, even were it thin enough to crumple and crack at the slightest pressure, and was most unlike a Berserker. He was wearing his usual helmet though.
Dreamer silently repositioned to keep track of the dragon, going still as the tugging intensified, though they continued on their course.
"Just show yourself, then you can run! Run for all you're worth! AHAHAHAAAH! Give me a good hunt, and I'll give you a good death!"
So, not breakfast then? Dreamer's legs went a little weak with every mad giggle and taunt, but he remained resolute. As long as he was the one tracking the Skrill, they could not sneak up and surprise him, and they could not hide away on the island to strike later.
He blinked as he routinely took stock of his surroundings. Hadn't he been on the other side of this bush a moment ago?
The Skrill let out a horrible grating hiss as it prowled along, still tugging on the reins, then whimpered submissively at a forceful nudge from Dagur's boot planted firmly on its neck. He seemed to have it quite under control, though it was still trying to do its own thing.
Where were they going? They seemed to be wandering aimlessly in circles.
No… in a circle…
A circle that Dreamer happened to be in the middle of.
They knew he was there. It wasn't possible, nobody could see a Nightstriker in such a poorly-lit forest, but there was no other explanation.
This was suddenly too dangerous, he needed to flee as far as he could. He was quite a way into the forest, there were several good paths away. He backed up, then silently loped away.
And then changed course and sprinted for all he was worth as lightning arced between the trees, branching off and sending splinters whizzing through the air. He had to slow, stumbling regardless as the sound knocked him senseless for a moment, but thankfully he'd pressed his ears down as a precaution and wasn't knocked unconscious again.
The Skrill really was the ultimate dragon-hunting tool, it was no wonder the Berserkers idolised it.
The trees opened out, Dreamer realising a moment too late he'd played right into their plan. This was near the edge of the forest again, where the undergrowth wasn't as dense and the Skrill would be less impeded with its larger bulk, where Dreamer wouldn't have as far to run, and where to one side was a vertical mountain he could probably scale but not with an injured wing and lightning bolts being hurled at him.
He had run from everything for most of his life, and it had never got him anywhere. The few things he had been forced into fighting for were what got him everything he had today. He hissed at himself and skidded to a stop, spinning to face his pursuers, a roar of challenge, defiance, thundering from his maw of its own accord. The Skrill slowed to a halt and roared back at him.
An insane laugh gradually rose over the rain. "Yes! Oh this is everything I have DREAMED of!" More laughter shook his body, and the Skrill hissed dangerously, flexing its wings to rake the long talons on the wrists through the air. "Give me a fight worthy of SONG, Night Fury!"
The Skrill lunged forward, and Dreamer raced aside from the snap of teeth and then a slash of its talon, which was long enough to go right through him with length to spare. The fear, the panic, the tension, it all threatened to lock him in place, but he held a tenuous control over himself on the basis that if he surrendered he would die. His light and nimble form dodged the clumsy bulk of the Skrill with ease as he ran circles around it, keeping it turning and off-balance while he learned its attacks.
As it slashed with its wing, he ducked under it and pushed off its side while digging claws through its hide. When it snapped at him he slammed his weight into the stiff spines on its crown, wrenching its neck. When it lunged at him he darted under it and sunk his teeth into its tail, tearing away scales.
It roared at him and held its wings aloft, totally exposing itself, but Dreamer's momentary hesitation gave him time to run in the opposite direction as it started sparking. He bounded through the trees, then turned and raced back as the crackling behind him stuttered to silence.
One shot left… If he could bait out one more shot, it would be out, and he doubted it could recharge from the storm through the trees.
He slid to a halt in the wet undergrowth and hissed at the Skrill just as it lowered itself into its usual crouch – revealing that Dagur was no longer on its back.
"It's you, isn't it?" Dagur asked from behind him, and he spun to keep track of him, head flicking between him and the Skrill. "HAHA, we're DESTINED to fight, you and I! HEHEHE! This time I'll be sure to honour you with a GLORIOUS death!"
Dreamer hissed at him, panic rising in his chest, as they closed in from either side. He couldn't attack either of them without exposing his back to the other. Though if he fled, Dagur would need to remount-
He launched himself away from both of them.
CRA-A-A-A-ACK!
He saw it happen even as he fell. The Skrill fired with no warning whatsoever and the resulting lightning forked out over a wide area, striking Dreamer and everything around him. His body felt like his muscles had exploded from his scales, and he couldn't even cry out in the agony he felt.
But he wasn't dead, far from it. The pain subsided to a deep ache almost immediately, though he still couldn't move. The wider area…
"Disappointing," Dagur complained as he casually walked over, the Skrill prowling up next to him. "I thought we understood each other, man to dragon. Well, don't worry. I'll tell everyone you died fighting."
Dreamer climbed to his paws and staggered, barely able to walk and unable to take his wide eyes from Dagur or stop his fearful whine.
Without warning, a living shadow exploded from the undergrowth at Dagur, tearing into him and separating him from his axe so swiftly and forcefully the haft snapped in two. At the same time, Astrid vaulted from behind a tree and slashed at the Skrill's neck with her axe, which reared back with a furious, pained screech.
Wanderer and Dagur launched into a massive brawl, both landing plenty of blows but neither apparently able to hurt the other, as Dagur lacked a weapon and Wanderer was unable to bite or claw through the armour. Astrid faced the Skrill down as it roared at her.
Something caught on Dreamer's paw and he stumbled back to the ground, gasping for breath and whimpering at the pain streaking through him. He was worse than useless here, just something for Astrid and Wanderer to need to protect.
Astrid was doing a remarkable job of dodging and slashing its face, but after she stepped aside from a downward slash the Skrill threw its wing across to catch her side and send her sprawling. It spared her a disdainful snort before advancing on Dreamer with murder in its eyes.
Responding to Dreamer's renewed fearful whines, Wanderer tried to disengage from Dagur, shoving him back, but Dagur grabbed his paw and pulled him off-balance, then slipped around behind him to put him in a headlock. Wanderer flailed and struggled, his legs, wings and tail all trying to get under the arms around his neck and foreleg. "HEHEHEEE, just relax and enjoy the show!"
"Leave… him… alone…!" Astrid strode slowly back in front of the Skrill, in front of Dreamer, then raised her axe. It was in her left hand, her right arm hanging limply and apparently too injured to fight with, but she faced down the Skrill with all the ferocity of a true Viking.
The Skrill glanced at Dagur, then tensed and screeched at the sky. Immediately, the surrounding area lit up with lightning again, but as Dreamer predicted it was almost entirely blocked by the trees.
Almost. A few bolts found their way to the Skrill's long spines on its back, and it settled back down with its eyes on Astrid. Dreamer found his paws and forced his body to action, having just realised something strange. Dagur had been sitting on the Skrill this entire time and had never been hurt, and was also wearing strange metal armour. The anvil that had been hit in the forge. That the Skrill's spines felt like metal.
Lightning liked metal.
He tackled Astrid, pushing her axe away from her as he did, right as the area around them lit up with lightning. It was a desperate plan, but he had nothing to lose at this point.
The splintering light converged on the axe and arced from there directly into the sodden ground, the remaining bolts veering too wide to strike either of them. The two of them hit the ground and rolled, Dreamer landing limply, but Astrid was on her feet in a flash and dove for her axe. She slid under the bite of the Skrill's long mouth and swiftly opened its throat.
"NO!" Dagur roared, right as Wanderer twisted his entire upper body around and smashed his head into the side of Dagur's helmet, knocking it off, then literally flipped Dagur off his feet. He then dropped his weight heavily onto Dagur's chest, crumpling his armour and leaving the Berserker wheezing desperately for breath.
Dreamer groaned in relief and slumped to the ground. It was over.
He looked up at a confused grunt from Wanderer to see him sniffing Dagur more closely. His big green eyes went wide, and then he took a deep breath to let out a resounding, screeching roar of such fury it set Dreamer's scales on edge.
Dreamer saw what was about to happen a moment before it did. Hurt, desperate! he roared.
Wanderer's teeth froze less than a claw-length from Dagur's face.
"Do it," Dagur wheezed into the toothy maw. "Send me… to Valhalla to… feast with my ancestors… Release me…! Do it!"
"Please," Dreamer whimpered, struggling to climb to his paws and staring pleadingly at his friend. "He not can fight now. Not need kill him." Fighting and killing to defend themselves was one thing, but he wouldn't allow themselves to be the cold killers everyone thought them to be.
"Your s- alpha not kill him," Wanderer snarled. "Then he do you much bad. He come back again if I not."
"This different. Our nest ensure he not." He tried standing, as he wanted to growl this next bit in Dagur's face, but quickly found it not worth the effort. "Our nest not let him free this time," he grit out from where he lay. "If do, I will kill him."
Wanderer pulled back with a furious snarl, but then his claws whipped forward to slash into Dagur's face. The Berserker didn't even make a sound as his head snapped to the side, going limp.
Dreamer collapsed again with another groan. Now it was over.
That had been an interesting altercation to watch… "Can you walk?" Astrid asked the limp Night Fury as she staggered over to it, then stumbled and dropped to the ground from where she looked over it worriedly. It looked as exhausted as she felt, though its eyes were as bright and calculating as ever as it looked her over in turn.
It shook its head wearily and dragged itself to its paws, stumbling a moment before planting itself firmly on the ground, then raised its head with its eyes narrowed and a growl in its throat.
I just saved your life! But she couldn't make herself say the words. She was too exhausted and sore. If that hadn't earned its favour, she never would.
Eyes drifting out of focus, she lifted her left hand and dimly inspected the bloody mess of her palm where she'd grabbed what was left of her axe handle to bury it in the Skrill's throat. Her right arm was still numb and could barely move. She had no way to defend herself.
"Just do what you want," she mumbled, slumping defeatedly. Part of her didn't even want to defend herself. She deserved whatever the Furies wanted to do to her anyway.
A deep purring in her ear startled her, and she looked up into the dragon's eyes, now round and friendly. It gave her a small lick on the cheek, and she brought her arm up to hold its-… his head. "I'm s-sorry," she said, her voice cracking and tears mixing into the rain on her face, but instead of growling over her apologies he nuzzled her face with an even louder purr.
She hugged him while she cried into his neck, and they collapsed onto their sides. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she blubbered into him while he purred and nuzzled her. "I'm sorry!" she cried at the other Fury as he walked over, and he also purred and nuzzled her.
There was no way she would ever be able to put to words what had happened, or why. Before long, Toothy trotted off into the trees, but Hiccup stayed with her, sheltering most of her from the rain with a wing while she expressed just how horrible she really felt at what she'd done to these beautiful creatures. She only kept enough of an eye on Dagur to ensure he remained unconscious, though there was a small chance he'd died.
Long after she'd tapered down to weary sobs and sniffles, crunching footsteps were abruptly audible over the rain, and then there were people around her. She was dimly aware of being lifted by someone, something thrown over her to shield her from the constant downpour, and then darkness slowly claimed her.
Author's Notes
Thanks to VigoGrimborne for pointing out a bit of a sprawling inconsistency to sparing Dagur,which has been corrected.