Astrid could lie to herself no more.
She woke to the powerful beating of her heart, unnerving both in that it was too strong and that it was in the wrong place, further down than it should be, burning in her chest. The same chest that was sleek and scaled, totally devoid of unnecessary weight. Just like the rest of her.
Then there was her hearing, and the constant thrumming she knew to be the background of her 'dream' of the nest. Not to mention the smell, which was only a little less potent, though she was not in the volcano. Her senses were stronger, more detailed in every regard.
All of that was more than enough, and when she looked down to see black paws, she was barely even surprised. Dismayed, terrified, but not surprised.
This was not a dream, something to wake up from and forget about. She was still in the nest, still trapped in the form of a dragon, and it was all real. Everything she had done before being convinced to go to sleep had also been real. She was a dragon, and she had almost killed herself in real life, thinking it a dream.
That was a thought she almost immediately shied away from, still trying to come to grips with the larger truth. This was all real. Her body was real. The nest was real. Hiccup was really dead. Dragons really could talk, if only to each other.
The Night Fury had really stolen her life away and somehow forced her into a body like itself.
The more she thought about that – relived those last moments as a human, remembered the searing pain, the hopelessness, the helplessness – the more she realized she hated that dragon. She hated that Night Fury, with all her heart, along with the rest of the occupants of this nest. They were dragons and they were the enemy. That one of them had forced her into a body that was not her own just made him the one she hated most of all.
But she did not even have her ax to act on her hate. She was unarmed, alone, and outnumbered.
She stood, clenching her fists–
Wickedly sharp claws scraped loudly across solid stone, leaving visible scratch marks.
Maybe she was not so unarmed after all. She could use this, and if she could hurt that Night Fury, then she would. He would pay for all he had done!
Two small leaps got her down to the beach, and she began to run as soon as her feet hit the ground, moving without thought. Her mind was on her prey, and where it had last been. On being a hunter, a warrior, like she had been trained for. A killer.
"Did you sleep well?" a voice above her asked carefully, laughably cautious and pleasant coming from one of her enemies. "Did you wake?"
Astrid was in no mood to respond verbally. Now she knew for a fact that the voice belonged to an enemy, not part of her own mind, and she was not going to dignify it with a response. Especially when, were she to speak, she would have to admit that this was no dream. That knowledge hurt enough without having to admit it to a dragon.
In fact... she glanced up and saw that the Nightmare was flying low, close to the ground. On a rage-filled impulse, she leaped up and slashed at the Nightmare's trailing tail, only barely missing when it jerked up and away.
To the Nightmare's credit, it simply flew a little higher to avoid her leap, not caught off guard in the slightest. "That was unwise," he said solemnly. "Of all the flames in this nest, you would be stupidest to antagonize my kind."
Astrid didn't care in the slightest what he thought of her actions. She growled up at him and continued to run. She had walked quite the distance along the shore earlier, but she knew there was a cave along the edge of the mountain somewhere. If she was lucky, or more accurately if the Night Fury was unlucky, it would still be down on the same ledge she had left earlier. It hadn't made any moves to follow her, so it might still be there.
After a short run that barely got her panting, she saw the cave entrance she was looking for, a dark hole set into the base of the volcano's steep lower slopes. The Nightmare was still following, flying just out of reach above her, but she was fine with that. In a moment it would have to either stop following or land to go through the tunnel, and if it landed she would attack it. Nothing simpler, and either way she would be rid of its taunting presence.
With that in mind, she only ran a few paces into the tunnel before stopping and turning, ready to pounce. She did not know how to fight like this, but everything else about this body seemed to run on just doing things and not thinking about them, and she was angry enough to be fine with that. Whatever happened, happened. She would not be denied.
Sadly, the Nightmare thought better of landing and refrained from flying into easy leaping range. Astrid turned after a moment of waiting and continued down into the volcano, seething mad.
Anger was all she had. She could not let go of it, and did not want to. The Night Fury was going to suffer and die for what it had done to her, if she had to spend her own life to ensure that. A small price, with her being… like this.
Soon, the tunnel let out onto a familiar ledge. Astrid balked at a disturbing sight, stopping just out of sight of the rest of the ledge.
Directly in front of her was a curious outline on the ground. It was burned into the rock, a scorch mark in the vague shape of a human body – her body – spreadeagled. The outline of what had been her mangled arm was lighter, less distinct.
Here was where she had been burned alive and somehow transformed. It was a terrible sight.
Then Astrid heard a low moan, one that had come from close by, and her rage returned once more, almost clouding her vision in its intensity, like a red fog. She leaped out onto the ledge and whirled.
The dragon she was going to kill was staring at a forlorn bundle of metal and leather, the saddle and tailfin off of its back and piled in a corner like trash. It turned to face her and wilted even more under the heat of her gaze.
She didn't care about how it cringed, or why. She screeched and leaped once more, crossing the space between them in an instant, acting solely on rage, no thought whatsoever put into her attack. She impacted warm scales and scratched at them, seeking a place to do real damage–
And then, conveniently enough, she found one, an ear laid flat against the dragon's head. She bit into it, her pointy teeth going right through thin scales and flesh with ease. The Night Fury howled in pain and finally succeeded in throwing her, but she didn't let go even as the bulk of her body was thrown to the side. The flesh and scales she had punctured in so many places tore, and she fell back with most of it still in her mouth.
She hit the ground hard, landing awkwardly on her side. The Night Fury reared back, whining now, and pawed at the top of its head, blood streaming down to stain the rocks. Most of the ear was gone, leaving not even much of a stub.
Astrid spit out the ragged chunk of flesh and rolled to her feet, intending to do some more damage. The other ear, and then the eyes, and then the heart to finish it off! One injury wasn't enough to even the scales, not even close. She wanted to fight, to rend and maim and destroy.
For a moment, it looked like she would get a real fight, the Night Fury crouching defensively and baring its teeth. But then he shrugged its wings, visibly calming himself. "Stop. I deserve this, but you still might need my help," he pleaded.
Her resolution to not talk to dragons flew away like... well, like a dragon, and she growled at him. "Help?!" she said incredulously.
"It's possible," the dragon admitted quietly, not meeting her eyes. "I think I did everything right, but–"
"Right." She advanced, kicking the ragged remains of an ear off of the ledge and into the abyss as she walked by it. "I. Am. A. Dragon." Every word was a sharp snap of sound, perfectly conveying her disbelief.
"You are alive," he countered, not sounding all that convinced himself. "You were going to die otherwise, as there is no way off this island for a Flightless."
"I could have made a raft!" she shrieked, incensed by the flawed argument justifying her ongoing nightmare. "There was a chance!"
"You are dead," she added a heartbeat later, her voice low and laden with promised pain.
"Yes, I am," he sighed, accepting that without even trying to argue. "But can you fly? Do you know how?"
"Who cares?" She leaped at him again, intent on finishing him off.
In a dizzying moment of deja vu, Astrid was plucked away from her goal by the talons of a dragon grabbing her from behind. The same Monstrous Nightmare that had been following her and had supposedly given up at the tunnel hauled her back and pinned her, sitting on her tail and wings, well out of reach of her claws and teeth. She thrashed regardless–
"Stop it!" the Nightmare growled at her. Then it looked to the Night Fury. "You did this."
The Night Fury bowed his head. "I did."
Astrid continued to struggle, though with so many of her limbs pinned and her enemy on her back, she wasn't making any progress.
"So much for your claims," the Nightmare growled disapprovingly, completely ignoring her attempts at wiggling out from under him. "Many of the younger flames looked up to you for your willingness to sacrifice for principle. Now who will they look up to?"
"I did not change her for myself," the Night Fury snarled viciously. "She is not mine, and I do not think otherwise. I changed her because she would have died as she was."
"And what did you do after that?" the Nightmare growled. "Inferna may allow it, but that does not mean the rest of us will approve."
"I did nothing to her," the Night Fury answered hotly, stalking forward. "Nothing at all. I am far better than that!"
The Nightmare looked down at Astrid, who felt his motion and tried to twist around and snap at him. "Is that true?" he asked, casually shifting his weight to stop her from achieving anything with what little leverage she had gained.
"Is what true?" Astrid growled. She had been listening, in a sense, but their nonsensical argument was not as important as wrenching her uncooperative wings free. She only asked for clarification because there was a chance she might be let up if they thought she was cooperating.
"Did he or did he not couple with you while you were numb and paralyzed?" the Nightmare asked, humming gently. "Do not be afraid to admit it. We will punish him ourselves if he did."
That was tempting, but she was more horrified by the very idea and all that it implied than intrigued by the prospect of getting the one she so hated in trouble, and her first instinct was the one she went with. "No, he never touched me," she snarled, ignoring the fact that he had rolled her onto her stomach, and therefore technically touched her, if only once.
"Truly?" The Nightmare looked up at the Night Fury. "So why?"
"I told you. She was dead, otherwise, and I could at least save her." He looked down into the abyss, whining loudly. "But she was not the one I cared about."
"You will need to answer for that, too," the Nightmare remarked casually, now somewhat more relaxed. "Where you have been, and why you brought two Flightless here. Inferna will not care, her appetite has been sated and she will like this particular result. But the rest of us are not so lax in our morals."
"Forget about it," the Night Fury moaned. "He is dead, and she is... as she is. There is nothing more to tell, except to discuss what might have been, which does not matter any more."
"That does not suffice." The Nightmare shifted his grip on Astrid, and seemed to remember that she was still under him, struggling to free herself. "And you should stop," he said, speaking to her in a condescending tone that made her skin crawl. "He saved your life."
"He ruined me," she gritted, pushing with all of her strength and not so much as budging the other dragon's grip. "I will kill him."
"You have made a good start," the Nightmare agreed, looking the Night Fury over. "He is losing blood."
"I am," the Night Fury agreed, doing absolutely nothing to correct his situation. "It doesn't matter."
"Go get help," the Nightmare ordered. "Whether you want it or not."
"I cannot fly at the moment," the Night Fury revealed blandly, lifting his tail into view, lopsided and clearly damaged. "So that will be a long walk."
"Are you permanently grounded?" the Nightmare asked.
"Probably, but I need to stall long enough to be sure she is able to fend for herself." The Night Fury looked at her, and she snarled at him. "If she does not kill me first."
"Good luck with both of those. They are looking to be equally dangerous." The Nightmare sighed mightily. "I will keep her here long enough for you to lose her. Try not to let her kill you."
"We both know I can't do that even if I wanted to," the Night Fury agreed, leaning against a wall to put pressure on his bleeding stub of an ear.
"Do you want to?" the Nightmare asked.
"Really..." The Night Fury whined despairingly. "If it were not for needing to make sure I have not doomed her... I have nothing, now."
"You did not have anything more before, as far as I know," the Nightmare said carefully.
"I did. Inferna just ate him." The Night Fury nosed at the discarded saddle and tailfin. "He would have wanted to be one of us, if he knew it was an option. Had things played out just a little differently..."
"I see." The Nightmare shook its head. "I will not press you for the whole story. You are clearly mourning, and I think I see the path you intended to take, before things went awry."
"A small mercy." The Night Fury pulled away from the wall and walked into the tunnel Astrid had used to get down to this ledge.
Once he was gone, the Nightmare hummed thoughtfully. "He is a troubled one. And you were Flightless, as I guessed."
She had already broken her resolution not to speak to dragons, so she might as well answer. "I am a human. What that demon did to me does not change that."
"He showed you mercy," her captor rumbled. "And yet you want him dead."
"Yes," she snarled. "I would rather he killed me than what he did." That was pure truth. Better a warrior's death than... this.
"You will not be reasoned with," the Nightmare said aloud in the voice of someone deciding something. He suddenly shifted, leaping away from her and blocking the exit with his body. "You want to kill."
Astrid's answer was to charge the Nightmare, aiming to claw or bite its long and very vulnerable neck. It was in her way, so it would die. She was still angry and it was a dragon. She had trained her whole life to kill dragons.
But the moment she got within its reach, it slammed a wing arm down on her, a glancing blow that bounced her body back against the ground. She growled and rushed forward again, only for the exact same thing to happen despite her being forewarned; he struck with the other wing, catching her out of position.
"Spend your rage against me. We do not permit the killing of fellow flames here." The Nightmare crouched into a ready stance, all but taunting her with how unaffected he was.
"Shut up," Astrid gritted, and leaped at him once more. This time, he knocked her out of the air with his tail, twisting to the side whipping the long, sinuous length around to snag her paws and pull her down short of her target. She snapped at the tail, but he was too quick, pulling it out of her reach.
She kept trying, but it was no use. Every bite was redirected. Every pounce deflected. She could not get close, no matter what she did, losing count of the number of times she had been slapped down or knocked away, trying again and again to no avail. Rage began to shift, turning to frustration, but she would not give in. Not even if a Nightmare was holding her at bay as if she was a child.
She was whining now, a piercing sound that hurt her own ears, but she was not crying. Her eyes did not water. She was just frustrated. She swiped at his wings, and was rewarded with a stinging slap. An extra-loud whine was pulled from her, not at the pain, which was small and temporary, but at the humiliation.
The Nightmare huffed at her. "Cry if you wish. Better you vent here than on those who will not expect to be attacked."
"I'm not crying!" she objected angrily, lashing out again, just as thoroughly countered as before.
"For us, that sound is an expression of pain or grief, or rarely frustration," the Nightmare remarked neutrally. "You are not keening, but that is reserved for mourning lost loved ones, so yes, you are crying, for that is what we call whining for those reasons, as opposed to complaining childishly."
Astrid quieted herself, willing her traitorous body into silence. "I hate you," she said vehemently.
"I have done nothing but help you," he replied sternly.
"You are a dragon." That was all the reason she should ever need.
"You are a flame," he parroted back at her, almost mockingly. "I understand why your kind hates us, but you must put that to rest, or hate yourself forever."
She was not going to question why he called her a flame. It made no difference; she got the point. "No. I am not one of you!"
"Talks like one of us, moves like one of us, looks like one of us," the Nightmare said sternly. "The Bolt who changed you did an extremely thorough job. You understand with no difficulty, and your fighting is efficient in reflex, if totally unfocused and devoid of any strategy." Of all things, he was praising her. "I do not doubt you could fly if you wanted to. That is a rare thing. You should not even be able to move normally so soon after being transformed... assuming you have only been like this a day or so?"
"It has been less than a day since that demon did this to me," she growled through gritted teeth. "And I do not trust or care about your opinion in the slightest!"
"Of course not," he sighed. "Tell me, what will you do if I let you pass?"
"Kill that Night Fury, and then start killing every other dragon I can find," she answered, "until none are left."
"If I did not know your rage as blinding and justified in your own mind, I would be angered by that," he remarked calmly. "But as it is..."
Astrid was not prepared to defend herself; she was the one doing the attacking, or she had been up to now. So when the Nightmare reached out and struck at her, she was not ready. Embarrassingly enough, it pinned her in exactly the same way as before.
"Letting you exhaust your own anger is not working," he rumbled at her, "so I will ensure you do not hurt anyone else."
"Let me go," she yowled, even more frustrated than before. The anger that boiled in her veins needed to be let loose; being constrained was the worst possible thing for her right now. She wanted to kill, not sit still!
"Blazes such as myself are honored in our fires," the Nightmare remarked casually. "We are highly regarded in the nest, and trusted by all to keep all below us safe. That is our job. As long as you are a threat to the lives of the ones I protect, be they Flare or Flicker or anything in between, I will not let you go."
Astrid struggled in response to that, putting everything she had into her legs, trying desperately to break free... but realizing, even through her anger, that it was pointless. She struggled anyway, to release some of her anger if nothing else.
Time passed. She expended her strength, rested, and then tried again. Nothing ever worked. The Monstrous Nightmare pinning her even had the audacity to look bored, staring off into the distance!
Eventually, Astrid gave in. "Let me go," she said tiredly, utterly spent. If she could just trick this dragon into going away now, she could go back on the warpath once she had recovered.
"I know for fact your former people prized word given in promise," the Nightmare said, going off on a seemingly irrelevant tangent. "The one who told me that was not a happy flame. She never accepted what had happened to her, though her circumstances were worse than yours, by far."
"Not possible," Astrid remarked quietly, both too tired to object more strenuously, and now trying to trick the Nightmare into thinking she was done attacking. It wasn't honorable, but the gods would forgive her if it got her back to killing dragons.
"It is not my story to tell," he responded sadly, "so just know that she was taken, changed, abused, disrespected, and in the end died alone, save for one flame she spurned, because she could not accept him without accepting what had brought him about."
"I'm well on my way to topping that," Astrid grumbled, discomforted by the idea that as bad as things were, they could actually be worse. That there was any bright side whatsoever to all of this was a novel concept.
"Taken, changed, yes," the Nightmare responded in a lecturing tone. "Abused? The Bolt has already foregone that. He does not seem the kind to disrespect, either, and is not forcing you to interact with him at all. If you die alone and miserable, it will be by your own choice, and even then, your life will not have gone as badly as it could have." Two dark red eyes bored into her own, the Nightmare's neck arching to allow him to look at her while he pinned her. "This will not be undone. You must make peace with it and adjust."
Undone. The word flashed like a thunderbolt from Thor himself through her mind, and she felt herself falling limp, totally rocked by the simple realization. What magic did it surely could undo, and there was magic all around her. Here were talking animals, dragons who were familiar with her condition. Somehow, somewhere around here, there would be a way to undo what had happened to her. A deal that could be struck, or a threat leveraged, or something! All the good stories ended with those afflicted either breaking the curse or dying with it, and these dragons so far all seemed reluctant to lay a claw on her, so death wasn't likely. She could have it undone!
One of those stories came to mind, and she recalled the general gist of it in an instant, thinking back to Winter nights spent listening to tales in the Great Hall.
A Viking explorer had traveled to a new land, and in doing so had angered a strange being that lived there, one that was implied to be human, but unnatural in some way. As punishment for trespassing, the man had been changed, his legs only capable of walking away from the being that had cursed him. In the end, he talked his crew into carrying him to it over and over again, no matter what it did to him, and tricked it into eventually undoing all of the curses, because the only thing it could not do was kill him outright, for whatever reason, and it wanted to be rid of his constant presence.
It was not impossible to have these things undone, if one found the loophole. All the stories that did not end in godly intervention taught that.
With that in mind, Astrid ignored all of the hints in the Nightmare's words about it being permanent. Of course the dragon would want to convince a human in a Night Fury's body to accept their new life. It would lie to her.
"Something has pacified you," the Nightmare noted curiously. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Astrid remarked, trying to sound as defeated as she had felt mere moments ago. Deception did not come naturally to her, but she was desperate and the things that did come naturally had proven worthless. "I am done trying to fight."
"I do not believe that," he countered. "Your kind do not lightly break their word. Promise me you will attack no dragon in this nest, and I will let you go."
"No." Pretending to be done fighting or not, she would not give her word on that. "I can and will seek vengeance, or defend myself."
"The former will not help you adjust here, and the latter is not needed," he rumbled at her. "We do not kill other flames here, and if you are attacked, a Blaze will protect you. That is our duty."
"I will not swear," she repeated stubbornly. She still fully intended to kill the Night Fury, if only after she had either made it change her back, or had some other dragon do it. She wanted vengeance… but not at the cost of being stuck like this as they all wanted her to be. Escape from the curse put upon her came first.
But only first. After, she could do what she wanted.
"Then I will not let you go," he retorted stubbornly. "I can stay here all night. My kin will bring me food and water, once they find us, and if you are polite, they will do the same for you. I am willing to spend as long as necessary here to protect my fellow flames."
In the brief time she had matched wills with this dragon, he had never blustered or promised something he was not capable of. She had to believe he was serious and entirely willing to do as threatened.
But she could not give her word; not in that way. There had to be a compromise, as loathsome as the very idea of compromising with her captor was.
And it was loathsome to the extreme; the very thought made her feel sick to her stomach. This was a dragon; she should be killing it, not contemplating compromise. She should not have talked to it.
But...
She wanted to return to her old life and body more than anything right now. If talking to a dragon got all of that back, she had to do it. If she could bear it.
Yes. Someone like Snotlout would be blinded by their own pride, but she was not like him. She could swallow it for a brief time, do whatever it took to get back to normal, and then avenge her honor. Some sacrifices could be made.
"I swear not to start any fights in this nest for as long as I am a dragon," she compromised, meaning it. As the Night Fury had started their fight, she would not be breaking her word in killing him once it was safe to do so.
"Good enough," the Nightmare decided after a moment of deliberation. "But go back on that, and one of my kind will intervene. The penalty for killing another flame would be decided by Inferna, and..."
He shivered. The strong, dangerous Monstrous Nightmare shivered in fear, visibly quaking. "I do not wish her on my worst enemies. You will meet her when she wakes. Tread carefully or be taught first-paw what suffering really is."
"Inferna..." She could only think of one creature that was probably asleep and worthy of true fear from a Monstrous Nightmare. "The huge dragon down in the pit?" Sacrifices, such as treating this dragon with some minimum of respect and speaking to him like a person so he would give her what she wanted.
"Flame, and yes. We call ourselves flames, not... whatever you are saying," the Nightmare rumbled. "It seems the Bolt's efforts were imperfect after all. Impressively thorough, but not without flaw."
Somehow, it was comforting to be called flawed in some small way. That meant the Night Fury's efforts were not perfect in all aspects, and thus more likely to be weak in ways that mattered.
None of that mattered at this exact moment. She struggled beneath the Nightmare's bulk, to remind him that she had promised.
"Be good," he warned patronizingly, and stood, freeing her.
Astrid struggled with herself for all of a single moment. To attack, to give in to rage, or to concede temporary defeat and seek out a way to be restored?
Honor versus need. Need won easily now that she was thinking instead of blindly attacking. She would be restored to her former self. There was no questioning her resolve, and magic had done it, so magic could undo it. More than that, the dragons could figure out.
Rather than attacking, she needed to figure out where she should be going. She hated to ask for guidance, but there was some small measure of satisfaction from getting the enemy to lead her a little closer to her ultimate goal.
The enemy. She dug her fingers – claws – into the ground and closed her eyes, trying to center herself. Maybe she should treat these dragons like she would an enemy tribe. She already was, in many ways, simply because it was impossible to hear something speak to her with intent and logic and not consider it a person.
Once she was back to normal, she could forget she had ever heard them, but for now, she needed to use that, even if it was not very honorable. A lot of the heros in their stories were not very honorable if the situation required it. She could bend her principles a bit.
"Show me the way up to the higher ledges," she requested, not bothering to sound respectful. "And to drinking water." That was a need that was fast becoming urgent, though she was only guessing that a raspy throat and strange-tasting breath meant dehydration.
"We drink sea water, and while you could drink the water by the shore, flying out a bit for less dirty water is better for your health, long-term," the Nightmare explained patiently. "As for the higher ledges, either walk a long way and only be able to reach a few, or fly and reach them all from here." He gestured to her questioningly. "Can you fly? You can walk, talk, and fight, each of which should have taken much time to learn. I would not think the Bolt's strange skill with this failed at imparting flight, of all things. He was always one for flight."
Astrid ignored the irrelevant praise for the Night Fury and concentrated on answering his question, at least for herself. Based on how everything else had worked with this body… She didn't know the first thing about flying, and unlike with walking, running, and presumably fighting, she hadn't accidentally started doing it on her own without thinking about it. So she probably couldn't fly at all.
That was good, in a way. Using what she had to get out of this with what she wanted was one thing, but she could not get too attached to any of it. She was very much still in enemy territory, and an enemy she fully intended to slaughter once all of this was over, to boot. Flight would, judging by the brief time she had spent as a passenger on a dragon, pose the risk of being addictively enjoyable. Best she stick to the ground.
"No. I cannot." She motioned towards the tunnel with her paw, though the gesture was awkward and borderline stupid in this body. "Take me up to whatever ledge is the most often used, on foot."
"Foot? Paw, you mean?" The Nightmare shot her a look that meant he did not like how she was speaking to him, but he walked out into the tunnel anyway. "Follow me."
Astrid did as requested, forcing herself to think of nothing but her goal. Get her real body back, and then kill the Night Fury that had dared to take it from her and foist this one upon her. Nothing more. After that, she could go back to her normal life, and kill dragons as she wished.
Author's Note: Again, we'll get a better look at the 'why' of all of this for Toothless, but not quite yet. We don't leave Astrid's POV in this story, so you'll have to wait until he opens up within her hearing range, or someone else lays it out for her.
Also, a mildly interesting thing: I have a LEGO model of Toothless. It's quite old (I gathered the pieces and put it together years ago) and some of the techniques used to give it detail aren't exactly good for the pieces. As a result, one of the parts gave out and broke a while back… leaving my LEGO Toothless with one ear and one ear-stub. Fitting, no? Especially as I didn't notice the similarity until after I'd written this story.