The Night Fury stirred, then slowly and lethargically picked up the rabbit and worked the meal down its throat. It lapped at the water, and turned back to stare at the waterfall outside for a few moments.
Dagur watched it, waiting for that moment. The moment it realised where it was, and who it was with.
He was not kept waiting long. It turned, and leapt a good two feet into the air as it spotted him. But Dagur was not so much interested in that as what came next.
They stared at each other, neither of them moving or blinking. It wasn't growling, but it was posed aggressively, holding itself in a ready crouch with its wings flared. Those wings were very versatile things, Dagur mused to himself… It used them to appear bigger, look more threatening, and also as weights to throw itself around with, much as he himself used his weapons and shield.
Then its maw parted, and Dagur sighed-
There was a quiet and dull thump, and the Night Fury coughed as smoke billowed from its mouth. "Guess it can't fire after being hit with dragonroot." That seemed pointless knowledge, though; if it was hit with dragonroot, it was dead or not worth fighting.
It cut off its coughing fit with a growl and lunged at him. He watched it as its front paws pushed off the ground to rear high, those dangerous claws reaching out for him with its teeth ready to follow up.
Then its wings snapped out and its other paw shot forward to brace it against the boulder he was sat on, and the claws halted an inch from his face. He inspected them curiously, noting the distinct grain leading down to the worn points. They trembled and twitched, the Night Fury staring at him with feral eyes… and then it backed up, away from him.
It watched him as it paced back and forth in the small cave, then lunged again, and again halted right before landing the attack. Interestingly, it seemed to prefer using its left paw, though of course all four were very dangerous. Still shaking though, and it was moving slowly compared to previous fights.
Again, the Night Fury backed up and started pacing, though this time it did not watch him, just growled and snarled with its tail whipping from side to side.
Dagur exhaled and it whirled on him, dropping down into a ready crouch. It then reared up and slammed its paws into the ground with a roar-
"Shhh!" he hastily whispered, holding his hand out – the first movement he had made in this whole exchange – and it went quiet, staring at him.
He exhaled again, and draped his arm back over his knee. He had not been able to best a Night Fury, and nobody was going to steal that out from under him, least of all these cowards who seemed more interested in killing it than fighting it.
Or maybe they planned on taking it alive and trapping it in some hole, like Berk did, to fight it to the death where it could not flee. That… wasn't a bad idea. Wouldn't have been a bad idea.
But it wasn't killing him. "Heather was right. That's good."
It's ears went up. "I'm talking to myself, aren't I?" he asked rhetorically. The Night Fury nodded at him. "Yeah. Been doing that since-"
He jumped, and almost fell off the back of the boulder. "Whuh, heheheh, that was weird."
The Night Fury stared at him as he tried to puzzle out what had just happened. It then closed its eyes, took an impossibly deep breath, and turned to start walking for the entrance to the cave.
"Don't go out there yet," he warned it, and it turned around and walked right up to glare at him, inches from his face. "Ugh, this would so much be easier if you could talk," he said, rubbing his head. "See, this is why I need Heather. The fact that I'm always berserk makes it really hard to think things through. What was my plan here? Hello mister Night Fury! You probably don't like me much but apparently Heather likes you, which means I can't kill you! Well, I guess either she's wrong, and you do kill me, or she's not, and…?
"But seriously, I've been hunting all over for you guys for months, and now, right now, you just drop out of the sky at my feet! I mean, not literally at my feet, but, you know." The Night Fury nodded again. "Yeah, good, anyway-"
He jumped again, and this time he really did slip off the side of his boulder. "Are you watching this, Odin!?" he shouted at the roof of the cave as he climbed back up. "Is this funny to you!? You just wait until I get up there!" He looked around for his axe before remembering he'd left it back on that stupid island.
The Night Fury lifted a paw and flicked it at him a few times. "Oh, I get it, you're not real. Great, I guess I really am crazy now. Fan-Frigga-tastic. Just what I need. Do you know how hard it is to run a village? Dagur, there's not enough livestock. Dagur, people are getting sick. Dagur, people are getting bored. Dagur, you're standing on my neck. It's always something! You gotta have someone you can trust, you know? Someone to check you, tell you what's right or wrong. Well, I guess most people don't, but the system works! Unless they're too weak to stand up to me, or I get bored of them…
"Argh, it's all our stupid dad's fault. He just had to go knock up that stupid slave girl. He betrayed us, and it made him weak. Made our tribe weak. I mean, if I hadn't offed him, he would've done it himself! How lame is that?
"And then Heather got the wrong idea, thinks I'm totally mad…" He blinked at the Night Fury, still sat there listening attentively, not attacking him or killing him or anything. "And I guess she's right! But I didn't use to be crazy… This is a new thing. Normally it's just hard to know what people want.
"I thought Heather would help, but she… Heh, I guess she wants me dead. But I have to trust her, so does that mean I should die? The same as Dad did? But if I shouldn't trust her, then I might be better off dead anyway. I tried to make Berserk great again, and only divided it more than ever. I won't stop fighting for my tribe, even if that means dying to protect them.
"Because if I can't trust Heather, then what? Kill a Night Fury, bring the Berserkers together, then break them even more? Not like I could just hand it off to someone else…"
He slumped. Weeks of thinking – something he'd become quite good at doing – had got him nowhere. He still had no answers. Finding this Night Fury had been an interesting toss of the coin. Either Heather was wrong, in which case he was better off dead, and it would kill him, or she was right, and… it still might have killed him, and still could, but if not… then he had a shot at fixing things. Somehow. Maybe.
Unless it was just a figment of his imagination. Then he didn't know what he was going to do…
The Night Fury stood and stretched, and even he could tell it was in pain. "Wouldn't go out there yet," he told it, and its eyes darted back to him. "Bunch of Hunters out there looking for you. They know you're here somewhere. Got a bunch of those." He pointed at the weird bloodstained arrow he'd carefully worked out of its chest, the shaft mostly snapped through but held together by a few wood fibres, and the Night Fury walked over to sniff it with a growl. "I'd go hunt them down, but they're watching the area. Seen 'em from here," he pointed at the ridge of the cliff he could just see from his seat, "so if I left they'd probably find and kill you." Night Furies were fast, but it wasn't in fighting condition.
And just at that moment, a muffled shout could be heard over the sound of the waterfall running past the mouth of the cave, and they both turned to look towards it. "Case in point," he said with a wave of his hand. "Take two steps out of this cave and you'll find yourself out of it for another day."
The Night Fury snapped around to look at him with wide eyes, then groaned and went to the back of the cave to lie down.
But before long, the shouting picked up again, even becoming a little clearer. "Uh, you got that fire thing working yet?" he asked, watching a Hunter that had wandered into sight along the rim of the gorge and was looking down into it with an arrow nocked. The Night Fury stared at the wall for a few moments, motionless, before shaking its head. "I suppose Odin does like challenging us…"
Dagur sat up straight as the hunter pointed down along the gorge, shouting something that was lost through the rush of water pouring in front of the cave. "They'll find us in a few minutes." He looked to the Night Fury, hand twitching for his axe, which again reminded him he didn't have it. He settled for pointing at it. "Nobody else gets to kill you," he commanded. "Especially not at anything other than top form. If someone kills a Night Fury, they have to deserve it! Not some idiot hunter with a bow. Got it?"
The Night Fury stood and stalked over to him, then put a paw to his chest and pushed him back, then down against the boulder. His breath dragged under the weight on his chest as he watched its teeth slide into its mouth, inches from his face. "Night Fury, Night Fury… What will you do?"
It took a deep breath, and then Dagur could feel its deep growl vibrating through him. It certainly felt real.
And then it stepped off, turning to look through the waterfall rushing past outside. Dagur grinned and hopped to his feet.
Several hunters were climbing down, two more standing at the cliff's edge with bows at the ready. Undoubtedly there were more out of sight, above them. They were boxed in, and these hunters were careful. "Cowards." He could just imagine how they would advance slowly, covering each other with those bows and completely gutting the hunt of any thrill or achievement. Were these Berserkers, they would have killed both him and the Night Fury by now, with only two or three of them reaching Valhalla.
"But they're not Berserkers." He grinned as he let his breaths quicken, allowed the rush of battle to flow through his veins, hand twitching for his axe again which still wasn't there. "If you die, I'm going to gut your brother and turn him into a rug." It growled back at him.
"Night Fury, Night Fury," he said to himself as he sprinted out of the cave, then grabbed onto the cliff and launched himself up it. The impact on his back, and that his arm then wasn't quite working properly, meant he'd probably taken an arrow already; that would be tedious to get out later. But then he reached the hunters at the top, and they were screaming as he broke them.
He laughed as an arrow he had dodged hit the next hunter in the chest, and then even harder as they all fumbled for arrows and weapons as if they were all sailing somewhere and he'd caught them napping. Not that it slowed the delightful crunching of the next hunter to fall to his hands.
There were quite a few of them, about twenty including the few that were probably still clinging to the cliff; any Berserker could have scaled it a dozen times for how long they'd taken to go halfway down. "How do you people ever catch dragons like that?" he asked one as the light faded from his eyes.
The hunters on this side of the cliff were dealt with, but he was still sidestepping arrows from the few standing next to the waterfall itself. He caught one of the projectiles as it sailed towards him, then snapped it in his hand. For some reason, the hunters decided this was a signal to start running away. "You think you can run after trying to take my Night Fury!?" he shouted after them, almost losing his tenuous grip on himself. "Cowards!"
He stopped, and forced himself to calm a little, to resist chasing after them and grinding their skulls into the dirt; he was certainly injured, sliding that far into a trance now would be stupid. Instead, he looked back, to the dark and already distant shape in the sky. "Night Fury, Night Fury... " He felt for the arrow in his shoulder and carefully worked it out, then stared at the bloody arrowhead.
If the injury was real, then so were the hunters, and therefore also the Night Fury. Still not crazy, then. "So much more than just a dragon…"
Astrid jolted upright at the Night Fury roar, then shoved her way through her door and leaned over the edge of her landing deck. Stormfly was right behind her, and scooped her onto her neck to take her down to the communal hut where the Fury was landing next to Barf and Belch.
It didn't look like Toothy, and the Zippleback was making a fuss, hopping around and winding his necks around him, impervious to his swatting. "Hiccup!?" she shouted, and his ears went up as he looked up at her. Oh thank Odin…
She jumped off of Stormfly as they touched down, and the Nadder ran forward to nuzzle and dote on him. He swatted at her too.
But Astrid's relief was quickly souring. "And where, exactly, have you been?" she asked sternly. All three dragons froze, and he stared at her from the middle of the tangle with wide eyes. "Hiccup, it's been over a day. Most of which we've spent looking for you. Toothy's been worried sick about you. We've all been worried sick. What the Hel!?"
The twins stumbled out of the communal hut a moment later, trailing coils of rope. "Heey," Ruffnut said lightly, "he's back! Told you he'd be alright."
"No," Tuffnut disagreed, "you said if he wasn't alright, you'd kill him."
"Eh, same thing." Ruffnut stared at Hiccup thoughtfully. "Say, how would a dragon do at a rope escape race?"
"Guys," Astrid snapped at them, and they mercifully went quiet. "Hiccup, I'm serious, you can't do this to yourself, and you can't do this to us. Do you have any idea what kind of state Toothy's in right now?" He whined, shrinking into the tangle of dragons, which quickly dissolved to leave him sat there looking miserable.
"Say," Tuffnut said slowly, backing up a step, "you're not injured are you?" Hiccup tilted his head, then flicked his paw to confirm he wasn't. "Because I think you're about to be."
Ruffnut, Astrid, Barf and Belch, and Stormfly all jumped back as a black blur swooped in and knocked Hiccup off his paws in a snarling tangle.
It was hard to watch, but harder to look away. Toothy clamped his jaws around Hiccup's neck, lifted him up, and drove him back into the deck, eliciting a yelp. He then tensed, head twitching erratically around Hiccup's shoulder and chest…
Astrid then had to cover her ears as Toothy shrieked, and then the Fury reared up and stomped on Hiccup's shoulder, repeatedly, forcing a yelp out of him with each impact, again and again. "Toothy!" she shouted; she was mad too, but this seemed excessive!
He relented, stepping back, then twitched his head towards their cave with a snarl. Hiccup scrambled to his paws and hasted into the air.
"I get you're mad, but what was that?" Astrid demanded before Toothy could take off after him.
Toothy turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes livid. "He should be dead," the Night Fury spat. "I not know how he not." He then leaped into the air and vanished towards their cave.
"Whuh? What does that mean?"
"Sounds like Hiccup got himself into more trouble than he had any right to survive," Tuffnut answered solemnly, also staring after the dragons. "Again. That habit's really going to bite him one day."
Astrid stared at him for a few moments, then sighed and shook her head. "He's back, at least. Let them sort it out between themselves I guess." Stormfly nudged her, and she stroked her dragon's snout. "You guys, tell Fishlegs when he gets back."
"I'll do it," Ruffnut readily and surprisingly volunteered. "What? We had our big final battle, with another massive dragon, and Snotlout wasn't even there for it! I wanna see his face when we tell him."
"How you gonna do that?" Tuffnut asked. "You won't be able to see his face, because we'll be too busy rubbing our victory in it!"
They laughed and high fived, then hopped onto their dragon for the short flight up to Snotlout's hut where Fishlegs had been treating Hookfang. Because of course Snotlout had just turned up out of the blue with his dragon badly injured. That was just like him, and Fishlegs had needed to spend most of the day dealing with it. At that, he was still dealing with it, while they all had enough to do already. He hadn't been back for even a single day, and Snotlout was already dragging them down.
She blew her fringe out of her eyes, resolving to either grow it out or cut it off, then mentally went over all the chores they'd fallen behind on with a groan. Someone also needed to check in with the Defenders to see how the new Gronckle Iron weapons were coming along, as they should have been done a few days ago, and Johann was approaching the island so they needed to prepare for his arrival, then there was preparing to leave for the winter to train with the Defenders…
They were so close to beating these hunters, and yet still so far away… Now would be the worst possible time to lose the plot. Actually, that gave her an idea…
Dreamer alighted in their den and looked around the rough walls, savouring the safe and familiar scents. He was home.
Home, after being shot down by somewhat cleverer dragon hunters, and rescued by Dagur of all people. That still hadn't sunk in.
He startled as claws scraped the stone behind him, then shrank into the back of the den with his nose practically dragging on the ground. He'd been dreading this confrontation ever since Dagur had casually slipped that he'd been out of it for a whole day; it had been before noon that he'd left Dragon's Nest, and it was now shortly before sunset.
Wanderer didn't jump on him again, just stood in the middle of the den and huffed for his attention. "Explain."
Dreamer whined. "I not think was dangerous… Just went flying, watched hunters. I heard Spine-Tail, flew for look… I… not saw I was close to mountain."
"Rot-head-not-alpha," Wanderer snarled angrily, digging his claws into the rock
But Dreamer shook his paw. "No, not him. Hunters with bad Nightstriker-sick-making claws. I in cave when I wake. Not-alpha carried me there."
Wanderer growled uncertainly. "Why?"
"Not know… I try kill him. He let me."
"He dead?" his friend asked, still sounding furious but much more hopeful. Then he groaned when Dreamer didn't answer. "He want kill us!"
"But he not," Dreamer growled back. "He say many strange things, not even know I understand him. He saved me."
The why of that was still unclear. He had contradicted himself a few times in his mad ramble, but a few things had stood out. Dreamer was still reeling about Oswald, who had apparently cheated on his wife – with a slave, no less – and Heather was Dagur's sister after all. Half sister, but still, it explained his obsession with her specifically.
And he was always berserk!? Aside from the Berserkers themselves, what was known of berserking was sketchy, so Dreamer didn't really know what that entailed, but it explained a lot as well. Why Dagur was so short with everyone, so quick to… everything, including reacting to surprise attacks, and his single-minded focus and constant determination. It also explained why exactly he wanted to hang around Heather, for guidance and council. If she'd just told him from the start to side with the riders, he may very well have done so with little convincing, though of course they couldn't possibly have known any of that.
No, Dagur clearly hadn't bothered explaining his logic to anyone, which could probably be blamed on his condition. With all of this information, Dreamer was now entirely doubting that he was insane. Certainly not normal, but his actions did follow a certain logic.
"You know why he not kill you?" Wanderer asked quietly, breaking into Dreamer's thoughts.
"Maybe," he huffed.
"But he could killed you. Hunters could killed you."
"Yes," he replied, hanging his head.
Wanderer's stern gaze crumbled into utter misery, followed closely by Dreamer's heart. "Last night, I nearly lose you," he whined, sinking to his haunches.
"Yes," Dreamer said with a whine of his own, wishing he was being jumped on again instead; that had been far less painful.
"I," Wanderer started, then looked away, whining under his breath. "I-... I not… Not want… Not a-alone ag-ain-"
Dreamer's chest seized with a devastated whine, and he scooted forward to tentatively nuzzle his friend. They fell into each other, whimpering and nuzzling and licking and trying to make each other feel better, but the more he tried to console him the more Dreamer had to think about just how close he'd come to dying and leaving his best-friend with no idea of what had happened to him to probably fly off on his own, all alone, with nobody in the world who truly understood him or loved him-
"I sorry!" Dreamer yowled, feeling every bit the bratty, petulant child he'd been acting recently, then whined as he was licked along his bared throat. He'd been taking Wanderer for granted, but love was a responsibility, one he had completely failed to uphold. "I sorry," he whimpered, grappling at his friend as the licks moved on to his belly, causing his legs to twitch reflexively. They were responsible for each other as much as for themselves, so Wanderer was probably feeling just as bad about himself. "I sorry…" His problems weren't just his own – even Dagur knew that – but he didn't have to deal with them alone either.
He wasn't alone. Not in this, not in anything. Neither of them were.
"Good thing you brought him back," Fishlegs observed as he finished wrapping Hookfang's leg in a fresh bandage. "And good thing I jotted this down when I could." It seemed too easy to be able to just mash up a few plants, all of which could be found on the surrounding islands, even if one of them burned fiercely to the touch.
"Yeah, you're a real hero," Snotlout said flatly; not sincerely, but not sardonically either.
Fishlegs tied off the bandage and admired his work. Not too tight, but holding the poultice firmly in place and not likely to slip off. "Where'd you find a Razorwhip again?" he tried hopefully.
"Around," Snotlout replied in the same bored tone, the same answer he'd given last time.
"But we still don't know where they nest!" Fishlegs exclaimed. "We know Viggo found one already, we need to make sure they're safe."
Snotlout scratched at his dark greasy hair, making his helmet wobble. "They'll be fine."
Fishlegs huffed and dropped onto his backside, crossing his legs. "Alright, out with it, what happened out there?"
Snotlout looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"You're different. It's been a few weeks, but I mean, you're the most stubborn Viking I know."
"A few weeks, huh," he murmured, placing a hand on Hookfang's head. "Felt like longer."
"Yeah, here too," Fishlegs sighed, leaning on his knees. "I hear the twins gave you the rundown."
"That you basically won the fight without me?" Snotlout scowled. "Yeah, I got that. Typical."
"To be fair, we didn't have much of a choice in the matter." Viggo had come out of nowhere, and things had just escalated from there.
"I never said you did."
Fishlegs squinted at him suspiciously. He didn't mind this new Snotlout, but what on Midgard could he have found out there to gut him of all the insufferable smugness and overconfidence? And who knew what else?
Maybe it was just a phase after Hookfang had been badly injured. The cuts on his underside weren't that serious, only a few of them were deep enough to bear keeping an eye on, and he would be doing a lot of rest anyway while this poison wore off. "He needs rest, so you'll need to make your own way around the Nest for a while, but he should be good to at least fly to the Defenders with us when we go. I think that's in a week or two. I need to check with Hiccup about that actually..." And with whatever had kept him out for an entire night and most of the next day. Hopefully he'd learned something interesting.
"Sure."
...But this was just too weird. Fishlegs got his feet under himself, spared a glance and the dragon and his rider, and pushed his way through the door and out into the night.
Dragonroot, as it turned out, was not conducive to good rest, even if it had put Dreamer out of it for the better part of a whole day and night. But even despite that, he just didn't feel tired when he lay down to rest, he still just felt a pressing need to think and plan and be out there fighting the hunters, for all he could properly do none of those things.
And not that he wanted to just run to the Defenders every time he had a problem, but Fishlegs had remembered something, and admittedly the weird leathery fruit found on their island was taking the edge off, but little more than that. And then he had needed to explain, which had led to walking through a strange tunnel, staring curiously at the tiny sparkles of light flickering across the rock walls. The sound of the sea behind him seemed distant, though that was only because the mouth of this cave was narrow.
"This cave supplies our village with water," Mala explained as she led him and Wanderer through the darkness. "Water is heated by magma below, and collects on the walls to flow into a pool further along."
They emerged into a huge cavern, and Dreamer's wings went slack with awe. A shaft of light shone through a thick haze down over a large, steaming pool that sat in a slightly raised bowl in the middle of the cave. Strange ledges and deep gouges, looking very similar to claw marks, were also interspersed along the jagged walls, all of it sloping to the back of the cave. There was no clear pattern he could make out, but nor did it seem at all random, everything had a sense of place and that it was meant to be there; on second thought, he remembered something about the Eruptadon providing water, so those likely were claw marks and it was likely all to some design.
Water trickled everywhere, all slowly making its way to the back of the cave, down the little ledges and gouges on the walls, making no sound whatsoever. There was only the faint sighing of the sea, and the breath of the wind over wherever the light was coming from.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Mala asked as he walked inside, entranced, and he and Wanderer both crooned their agreement.
He walked up to the pool and stared into the strangely pale water, noting its salty scent was laden with a strong earthy tang, almost metallic. The warmth radiating from it was divine, and he was sorely tempted to just jump in.
"High tide fills the pool, and then it heats while the tide recedes," Mala continued. "Now is the perfect time to immerse oneself in it." Dreamer turned back to her-
Then startled back with a yelp, his hindquarters promptly slipping into the startlingly warm water with a splash that echoed around the quiet cave.
"Come now, Dreamer," Mala said as he climbed out of the pool, sounding amused, "do not tell me you, of all people, are modest?" She finished stepping out of her garments – he presumed, as his eyes were averted – and then her footsteps neared. "Dreamer."
He held a wing up to preserve her modesty so he could look at her again, and she huffed in amusement. "Dreamer, please." She put a hand on his wing and gently pulled it down. "You are missing the point." He relented and dropped his wing, but looked away again, and she sighed. "Do you know why we are here?" He nodded. "I do not believe you. You came to us to help you relax."
She walked past him, and he couldn't help but see the stark white of her skin out of the corner of his eye, not without looking in completely the opposite direction. "You are here for that purpose, but why here? We, as leaders, are burdened with a mountain of responsibility. Letting go of that on occasion is necessary for our sanity." He huffed, trying to focus on the curiosities of the steaming water. "Once in a while, we all need to feel… vulnerable."
Vulnerable? He felt that often enough without adding to it himself, particularly given that there were apparently a bunch of Viggo's anti-Nightstriker arrows out there still.
Mala sat at the edge of the pool, then slowly lowered herself into it. "There is something freeing about it. When I am in this cave, I do not worry about the problems of my people. Here, I can just be myself." She sighed and spread her arms along the rim. At least the hazy water obscured her now. "Feel free to be yourself as well. I shall not judge."
Wanderer's claws clicked against the rock as he walked around the pool, his gaze drifting around casually. "Why you not comfortable if she not wear not-skins?" he asked.
Dreamer groaned quietly, he'd rather they just moved on… but from past experience, he typically wasn't let off that easily.
He had to think about exactly why it bothered him. He didn't think of himself as human anymore, so her being naked wasn't any different to him being naked. And it wasn't as if he found her attractive… "I think it because it how Long-Paws show they want… mating." Wanderer's ears went up, and he glanced at Mala uncertainly. "They remove not-skins for many reasons, but they only show male if they want mating." There, now can we please stop talking about it?
"But she not want mating," Wanderer said, but then paused, and sniffed at the air. "Wrrr, I not know that, but not with us," he clarified. "Not think about her. Think about female Nightstriker…"
This is not helping me relax, Dreamer idly thought to himself as Wanderer finished rounding the pool and rubbed against his side. "Think about female for warm-sleeping," Wanderer purred, "for flying, chasing…" Dreamer huffed and stood-
And shrieked as Wanderer got under his haunches and bucked him into the pool.
The hot water was a shock, and he would have gasped had his mouth and nose not reflexively locked shut along with his ears. He opened his eyes, the heat uncomfortable while he acclimatised, and then he found his bearings and righted himself to break the surface.
He growled at his friend, though the water was very nice. Salty, as sea water was, but he licked his nose clear without even thinking about it to find that earthy tang again, quite pleasant to his tongue; much like the iron ingot had been, back on Berk. The heat was also permeating his scales and working into his muscles, which he was coming to realise were very tense.
Wanderer slipped in after him and then just floated there, purring through his nose, eyes fluttering shut. Dreamer smirked, and waved a paw under the water to make a silent little wave that washed over the other Nightstriker's face – who then practically inhaled it and sent himself into a coughing fit.
Dreamer chuckled, then didn't hesitate to dive under the water when those big green eyes narrowed on him. But the width of the pool was only a body-length and perhaps his tail again, and not even that deep, so he quickly found himself in a grapple with teeth playfully biting into his ear.
They broke the surface, and Dreamer pushed him away to pant the heavy air. They'd barely done anything, but he already felt exhausted and mildly crowded. Wanderer, also panting, rolled onto his back and let himself float, rocking a little with the small waves they'd made. Mala was just watching them with a warm smile.
It was the heat of the water, he realised, the heat of everything around him. He could easily withstand it, but being active made him hot, and he cooled off by panting and touching the pads of his paws to the wind or cool ground. This air was hot and humid, so panting wasn't helping, and his paws were in this hot water.
Now he understood. Thoughts were slipping from his mind, simply unable to focus with the heat in his body, but it wasn't confining or restricting as he had felt before. It was even more effective than the sagefruit. He still didn't feel restful, but he could appreciate the logic.
He ducked back under the water and inspected the rock that made up the bottom and sides, which was worn smooth. And below the surface, without anyone to see or know, he stole a few glances at Mala as well, just to sate his curiosity that had once burned so fiercely but was now little more than a smoulder. Those old feelings were just beginning to stir again, but it was only curiosity of females and mating in general, Mala didn't attract him at all. She was entirely the wrong shape, her limbs far too long and her body so flat.
Finding more Nightstrikers was definitely a more appealing thought, even if he didn't hold any real desire to get... intimate with one. Wanderer certainly wanted to find a female, and Dreamer was entirely behind him on that, both in wanting to help and in priority; Dreamer himself didn't know what he wanted yet.
At some point during his long, slow introspection, the shaft of light from the ceiling clouded over. It felt as if the room should be getting colder, but if anything, it felt hotter. Mala, who had appeared to be asleep, stretched and then hauled herself out of the water. "We humans can only take so much heat," she said breathlessly, "but you are welcome to stay if you wish."
Wanderer cracked an eye open to look at Dreamer, who shrugged and tipped his head, then stretched and rolled upright. They waited while Mala dried off and dressed before climbing out to follow, unbothered by being wet.
"Are you feeling any better?" Mala asked hopefully as they walked back through the short tunnel towards the exit. He hummed and nodded his head a little, as he did feel more relaxed than he had.
"Come," Wanderer chuffed, "we sleep on mountain?"
Dreamer purred at that idea, it was only evening but he could certainly try. They emerged into the cloudy daylight where Throck wordlessly greeted them, having been keeping watch over the entrance. Mala dipped her head at him, already wearing her usual shroud of stern authority, though she did seem somewhat more relaxed now. Dreamer purred at her with a small nod, and she smiled with a small nod back, and then he leapt into the cold air and worked his wings to lift himself into the sky.
The air wasn't actually cold, but he had just spent the better part of an hour in a stiflingly hot cave, so it felt it. His scales quickly dried as they soared past the village, towards the rocky mountain in the centre of the island. The lingering warmth slowly bled out of his scales as he flew, and by the time they were descending to a dark little pocket created by a rocky overhang, he felt comfortably cool.
But the heat of the volcano was working to fix that, and he purred as he stretched out on the warm rock. The flight had been refreshing, resetting his temperature, so now he could appreciate the warmth again…
He then purred more loudly as Wanderer started grooming him, clearing away the crusty feeling left by the salty water. But he wouldn't feel right if he didn't return the favour, so he pulled himself onto his side and grabbed his friend's flank, and what followed was an amusing wrestle as they both tried to groom each other at the same time.
Now feeling relaxed and clean, he tucked himself into his friend's outstretched paws and closed his eyes, thinking of the future. When these hunters were dealt with, which would hopefully be done soon, he and Wanderer would fly south. The riders wouldn't be able to go, it was a long flight and a Nightstriker problem to deal with, and they had responsibilities back on Berk. Wrrr, maybe Ruffnut didn't, not that he knew of, but Tuffnut did, and they shared a dragon.
Then… he didn't know what he was going to do. Find some Nightstrikers and figure out what was going on, he supposed. Hopefully meet a female for Wanderer. For himself… he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Perhaps there was some female Nightstriker out there who was right for him. Presumably she would have flown her nest by now, and was living as Nightstrikers did when they flew the nest. Probably not hunting down dragon hunters.
But the dragon hunters here all needed to go first, there were too many of them to just leave be, to say nothing of Dagur still out there somewhere… whatever was going on with him. The trouble was, Dreamer didn't have the faintest idea of what to do about any of it…
"You really not could sleep at all?"
"No," Dreamer said with a frustrated growl as they flew alongside the dawn. "...Some," he admitted a moment later. A few hours of dozing, nowhere near enough. The trouble was, he felt alert and rested, but he had felt like this before and subsequently been shot down because he hadn't noticed the literal mountain next to him. Looking at it objectively, he couldn't claim he was rested.
Wanderer crooned worriedly and touched their wingtips as they glided. "I not will make you, but I think we should leave." Dreamer sent him a questioning look. "Leave these hunters, these Long-Paws. Find den for just us. Not think about bad Long-Paws. I not want to," and here he gave Dreamer a look of reassurance, "but maybe you need do that. You not can stay like this."
"Maybe," Dreamer mumbled quietly. He hated the idea, but not as much as he hated the idea of running himself to ruin and forcing his friend to watch him suffer or worse. He owed Wanderer his life, and everything in it, and that was the sum total of his debts to anyone. It had to take priority.
Dragon's Nest came into sight, and he sighed at the thought of explaining, yes, they had been to the Defenders and tried their sagefruit and even had the most amazing bath ever, and no, it hadn't helped enough. The thought of just carrying on past the Nest and right out of the Greater Archipelago was suddenly more tempting.
But he couldn't leave. He wouldn't give up now, not when they were so close. Even if he couldn't scout on his own, or plan things through without someone checking his logic, or get dragons to trust him to move them somewhere safer, or fight in any of the skirmishes…
He was distracted from his ruminating by Astrid and another much larger figure sat against the wall of the communal hut, and blinked as he recognised his sire.
"Our hatch-nest-alpha here," Wanderer said a moment later. "Why?"
"Not know," Dreamer crooned. Were they being summoned back? Not that his sire had any say over what he or Wanderer did, but he could pull the riders back if he wanted. That would cripple any hope of actually stopping these hunters, leaving just the Nightstrikers and Defenders to oppose them.
But he couldn't think of what this could be. The Chief wouldn't come personally to deliver a message, even if something had happened to a relative he would send a messenger to retrieve anyone affected and tell them personally back on Berk.
Stoick and Astrid stood as he roared his arrival and swooped down, using his height for a last burst of speed to cover the remaining distance. He studied them as he and Wanderer flared their wings and alighted on the deck, Stoick looking grave while Astrid was hopeful; this was so confusing.
"How did it go?" Astrid asked as they folded their wings. His gaze fell and he let his head lean to the side. "Not great, huh?"
He looked up to Stoick, who sighed and gestured inside. Wanderer churred thoughtfully, then flicked his head at the hut and took off again.
"Astrid's been filling me in," Stoick rumbled as Dreamer followed him to a nearby wall, where he sat down. "I hear you've done some amazing things out here."
He looked weary, and when Dreamer gave him a quick sniff he picked out more alcohol in his scent and wax on his hands than would be normal. Drinking and cutting firewood… Seems he's going through his own problems. The tense sharpness and sad saltiness in his scent only confirmed it.
"Can't get anything by you," he chuckled, running a hand over Dreamer's head. "Thornado left at the end of summer. I know why, and I agree with him, but sometimes… Bah, don't worry about me. I'm… just glad I can be here for you."
A whine escaped under Dreamer's breath, and he snuggled up against him and lay his head across the big man's lap. How are you so strong…? To have lost his wife and son, and then when he had turned to dragons, the Nightstrikers outgrew him and now Thornado was gone too. He must feel cursed.
"I'm not sure why Astrid came to me for advice," he rumbled, and Dreamer purred as a heavy hand stroked down his head and neck. "I'm hardly a good example to follow. We just have to do our best. Sometimes, it's… not enough. I still wonder, had I done better… But he turned out a hero anyway. I have to be happy with that. Happy with that he's happier now, and accept that I cannot be part of it.
"That is my punishment. When you fail someone, you lose them. Sometimes forever." Fingers reached around his neck to scratch behind his frills with blunt nails, and his eyes fluttered shut. "That is why a Chief protects his own. There will always be more people, more dragons, more pain, and it is good to help them. But if you cannot, then you have not lost anything." Dreamer hummed a mild disagreement; the ones he could not help would have a different opinion. "Heh, I get it," his sire chuckled. "It's a tough lesson. But if you sail… or fly, too far from home, then you won't be there to protect it.
"But that's not saying you should give up. Stories are spreading, of dragons that do not kill. The kids love them, Thor knows why. Just know your limits. Know how much of you that the people around you need, and see how far the rest will take you. You cannot do more for them than that."
Dreamer took a long, deep breath, holding it for several moments before letting it go. He was right. It wasn't as simple as just not thinking about it, he could never do that, but he had to accept that he was one dragon. There were things he could do, and things he could not, just like every other dragon.
And, as the big hand wandered over his ears, neck, and back, something Mala had said suddenly clicked. Feeling vulnerable wasn't just being in danger. He made himself vulnerable to Wanderer, to his sire, and to a lesser extent, the riders. It was about relinquishing control and responsibility, when it was safe to do so, to let down his guard and expose his self. To set aside the mantle of leader, and become a person again.
He purred a little louder and nestled into the big, comfy lap. I wonder if he… would mind if I… called him… Sire…
Astrid couldn't help herself, and quietly made her way along to the communal hut which, as far as she knew, still contained the Chief and Night Fury. The Nest was actually very quiet and peaceful, the twins were out hunting and fishing, Fishlegs was harvesting the crops and preparing the garden for winter, she hadn't seen Toothy since he'd returned, and Snotlout was mostly keeping to himself, and was withdrawn when he didn't.
The Viking in her hated it, peace was boring and it just meant people weren't being pushed hard enough or weren't having enough fun, but, on occasion, she was coming to appreciate it.
And it was clear what had everyone tiptoeing around. They all knew Hiccup was having problems, had been pushing himself too far and resting too little. It was obvious in hindsight. And now with the Chief here, nobody wanted to be the one to break the silence.
She crept along the deck, thankful for sturdy Viking design and thus a lack of squeaky boards that some stairs around Berk suffered from, and peered around the door, which was still ajar. Even with the little trick to see into dark rooms, it took time to make out any shapes inside, particularly with one of them being as black as night.
But she did eventually pick out Stock, sat motionless against a wall with his helmet on the floor and his chin on his chest. Hiccup was sprawled across his lap and along the floor, difficult to make out, but she thought she could see a paw sticking out into the air.
She sighed quietly in relief, wishing she could light a fire or bring them a blanket or something, but their rest was precarious enough without her trying to move them or get a dragon in there… Actually, Toothy could probably do it.
She crept away again, smiling. She would let them rest as long as they needed. With winter nearly upon them, things were about to get busy for everyone.