Sorry, real life is way overrated, but somehow still finds a way to make you focus and on it. Add a sprinkle of writer block, and you get a delayed update.
Chapter 11 Expeditions I: A strange meeting
"How do you know my name?" Astrid said, eyeing the masked man in front of her. A good head and a half taller than her, he wasn't the usual bulky Viking profile, but rather had a slenderer frame. Nonetheless, as an experienced fighter herself, she knew that these types were the most dangerous. Being strong enough to overpower someone when needed, but still being greatly agile and quick. The smooth mask and the chiseled in jaws added another layer of mystery to this man, that appeared to ride dragons as well. She could feel his look trailing up and down, seizing her, analyzing her. Gripping her weapon harder, she had never felt so vulnerable before. This so-called Messenger could easily kill her, and for once, her trusted dragon wouldn't be of any help.
"Easy," He chuckled, "If you grip it any harder, the handle would break," he added in a slightly coarse voice. "And to answer your question, only a Hofferson knows the secret behind that stone." The messenger pointed at the slightly glowing stone. "Who's Horven Hofferson to you?"
"The grandfather of my father. He left us a note saying that we can come and seek you in case of an emergency."
"Yes, that appears to be the deal. What's happening?"
"Well, my be… my chief and good friend has been captured by the Headless tribe..." Astrid started to explain but was cut off by the Messenger raising his hand.
"The Headless tribe, are you sure it's them?"
"Yes, personally went against them, and" Astrid, but was interrupted once again
"Let me guess, didn't went well. But why would the Headless go to the young chief of Berk? Hiccup, right?" The Messenger answered.
"Because he has a Night Fury, and the Headless went him to teach them of the train dragons."
"A Night Fury you said?" The Messenger almost said. He looked left and right as if he was afraid of someone hearing him. "Follow me, this isn't the place to talk." He said with authority, before mounting one of his dragon.
Dumbfounded, Astrid mounted Stormfly as well. Flying up in the night sky, she could barely distinguish the dragons in front of her. It was only when the sun started peaking out of the horizon that they landed. The island was not big, a lonely rock in the middle of the ocean, it was entirely covered with a thick forest, except for a decent size half-moon shaped bay that was connected with the land via a smooth slope of green grass. A small hut was built at the limit of the forest, beside it an area was cleared, revealing the dirt underneath.
The trio of dragons landed, and after dismounting, Astrid followed the Messenger into the hut, the dragons on their steps. Before crossing the doorstep, she peered back and saw the two grey dragons sitting on the porch, like statues, but what jumped to her eyes is that Stormfly was shyly sitting apart, almost like she was fearing the other two dragons. Frown on her face, she wanted to recomfort her friends, but she had more pressing matters at hands right now.
After entering, she was met with a single room, composed of a table with a chair, a small counter to cook food, and a bed that was more of some rolled up sheet placed on the floor.
"You'll excuse the state of this place, this is only a temporary resting spot for my travels." The Messenger explained. He wanted to speak again, but Astrid beat him to it.
"What species are your dragons." Astrid asked, "And why does my dragon fear them?"
"Ah, they are the Guards, and all that I can say is that they rank pretty high up in the dragon hierarchy." He answered.
"Are they related to Night Furies?" Astrid asked again.
"Closer than the sandwraithes, if you know what these are." Again, he answered vaguely, before following it up with his own question:" Speaking of Night Furies, explain this whole story with the Haddock boy."
" It all started five, six winters ago," Astrid begun, narrating how Hiccup managed to shot down a Night Fury, how they together defeated the Red Death and Drago's Bewilderbeast, up until his capture by the Headless tribe.
" I need your help to rescue him," Astrid asked.
"No." The Messenger stated nonchalantly as if he refused a serving of bread,
"What?" yelled Astrid shocked, "But the note said that you will help."
"What my precedents left to Horven is a chance to meet me."
"Don't you own him a debt, what about your honor? Astrid replied bitterly.
"First of all, I don't follow the same rules as you, and as of the debt, let's just say that we helped each other and it happened that my precedent seemed to like him, and gave his clan the chance to meet one of us."
"Could you at least help me locate him, I'm sure someone like you has the resources to do this." Astrid pleaded one more time.
"The Archipelago is a vast place, and as of now, I have much more pressing matters to attend than the chief of Berk, but if you can wait, or offer something interesting enough, then it can be arranged." He answered.
"What do you want?" Astrid grunted, she was contemplating the option of slamming her axe in his face, by which she is sure that is covered with a smug smile, but she didn't want to verify the legends.
"What do you seek?" He answered back.
"I seek him, reunion with him." She answered firmly.
"Oh, so more than just a chief than?" he said, words to which she nodded.
"Then give up something equal to him, and I will help you." He answered.
"Help me and I will give you my life, a slave, or you can just kill me, whatever you wish," Astrid replied sharply.
"Hmm, it appears that you didn't think this one through, you seek reunion, but at the price of death, a bit contradicting." The messenger said,
Somehow, Astrid only heard the smugness in his voice. Yelling in fury, she raised her axe and strike him. Only the feel the edge hitting a blunt surface, almost immediately after, feeling something twisting her wrist, making her grip loosen up. A fraction later, the weapon was snatched from her hand.
Coming to her senses, she saw the Messenger eyeing her axe. What happened is that he caught the blade with one hand. Looking at his armored palm, she could see a faint mark. The Messenger handed her the axe and started walking towards the door.
Quick, Astrid though I need to find something, quick, If he leaves, it's over, what could he possibly want? He is Viking after all, guess this is worth short. Her idea gave her shudders, but she was willing to risk.
"Wait" She yelled, stopping the Messenger on his track, "If you don't want my life, you can have my body" she muttered the words with a coarse voice as if they were burning her throat while speaking out.
What she wasn't expecting is him straight up laughing.
"Well, well, well, what makes you think at first, I may want it? And even if I do, what would he think?" He replied.
The answer both relieved and scared Astrid, hitting her like a blow while dancing on her mind like the feathering of touches. "He'll understand?" She replied, she knew the repercussion of her deal, but at this point, she was willing to risk everything.
"Really?" She asked,
"Ye…" She wanted to answer, but the words died in her throat He'll just blame himself.
"Just as I think," The Messenger said again, "What is him to you?"
"The most precious, he is everything." She answered without thinking,
"Then what is your second most precious thing?"
"Stormfly, my dragon, but I'm not giving her up."
"Fine, then what is your third most precious thing?"
"It's…." She couldn't come up with an answer.
"What are you, to him, to yourself, to the Archipelago?"
His betrothed, a dragon ridder, a warrior. Astrid thought, then she realized what the Messenger wanted. So, she raised her weapon, knowing full well that it was going to be painful, and said.
"I challenge to a duel. If you judge me worthy enough, grant me what I seek." Astrid said firmly
She blinked and suddenly, the Messenger was right in front of her, and not at the door anymore. He wasn't made a single sound and close the distance so fast that it was he appeared out of thin air.
"That's more like it." He chuckled.
They went out of the hut, into the open field where the grass was scarce. Astrid started stretching, doing some swings, just enough to get her muscle into action. She took some deep breaths calm herself and turned around to face the Messenger. To her big surprise, he was removing his armor. Currently removing his leg plates, revealing a tan cotton bottom underneath, upwards he was sporting a linen shirt. His scarce clothing revealing his toned members. Looking sculpted out of stone, his body was sporting relatively a small number of scars, just a couple of bruises on the exterior of his arm and legs.
Astrid was perplexed, someone of his reputation should be covered in battle scars.
"What are you doing? She asked
"Your weapon wouldn't be able to harm me through my armor" he responded.
"This axe isn't any weapon." She replied.
"Doesn't change a thing, besides, I still got these." He showcased his gloved hands. They were layered with the same light grey materiel as his armor, shining palely in the morning light.
Astrid closed her eyes, took one final deep breath to regulate her breathing. This is for you, Hiccup. She thought before opening them again. Lowering her stance, gripping her weapon steadily, she squinted her eyes to better focus on her adversary.
Step by step, she closed the distance between them, all her body was tense, all her senses on alert, ready to pick up the slightest movement. When she was reasonably close, she fainted a strike, just to test the waters. The Messenger didn't move, fully expecting her to fake the hit.
Backing off two steps, Astrid bit her lower hips, trying to figure out this fight. She charged again, slightly on his right, and at the last moment, she pushed left and changed grip in an attempt to do a sideways slash with her left hand, only for the Messenger to grab the handle at the beginning of the movement, leaned forward and elbowed her in the ribs. He followed by a leg swipe to her ankles but she managed to dodge the hit by jumping backward.
Panting, Astrid touched her ribs to feel if something was broken, luckily, nothing was. The next few attacks were all reads through and countered text-book style, leaving her breathless. I can't lose.
The blond Viking straightened her stance, and this time, started circling her opponent. To her big surprise, he wasn't following her motion by walking around, instead, he just stood there, rotating his body to always keep her in visual. Patiently, she waited for an opening. The strange dance of warriors went on for a few moments, and each time, she thought she saw an opportunity, it vanished so quickly that she wondered if it was really one.
Eyes trailing up and down the Messenger stance, the way she moved was like a predator circling his prey, knowing full well it can't escape. But the way she felt is that she was actually being hunted, the grey mask giving the wearer a terrifying aura.
There, she saw her chance, where his upper body has yet completed the rotating motion, making an odd angle with his feet. She charged, combining a downward strike with a kick to his hips. But since the body was sideways to her, he only had to bend a bit backward to dodge the axe blade, and by raising his leg, block her kick and used his arm to pin her leg to his side.
But this time, she was ready, already preparing to deliver another kick with other legs, she was anticipating the satisfying sound of her booted foot meeting his hip bones, but before she even got the chance to raise her leg, she felt her knee give up under her, and it only took the Messenger to release her pinned leg to make her fall flat on her back. When falling, she assessed the situation: he grabbed her leg and with blazing speed, kicked her other knee. Thrusting her hips upwards, she managed to roll backward over her shoulder. She just stood up that the Messenger closed the distance in a blink, without even having the time to raise her axe, he rammed her with his shoulder with such strength that she almost went flying.
When the all too familiar contact with the dirt happened again, she cursed. Being lighter than her opponent was a common occurrence for her, and a weakness she compensated with speed and agility, but this time, he outmatched her in strength, and speed. Standing up with difficulty, only to meet the cocky attitude of the other Viking
"That's all you got? How are you going to save him?" he asked smugly.
Astrid's vision went red, seeing flashes of a battered Hiccup, and looking up at her, those green orbs filled with despair, looking at her, powerless.
She yelled out a heart-clenching scream, and charge forwards with all her might. It was no longer blood, but anger and despair running through her vein, fueling her with enough energy to put on the last fight. The Messenger tilted his head, confused by what he is witnessing but step forward into the fight.
Hacking away with fury, each of Astrid's strike was met with a block from the Messenger. A left swipe was promptly blocked by his right glove, which he followed with a quick punch to her liver. A knee strike interrupted by him blocking with his forearm. A kick parried as well. For each attack Astrid threw at him, the Messenger always had the perfect counter-attack. At first, Astrid could riposte by twisting out of his grip and trying to grab his arms, but these were always unsuccessful as he would always slide out of her grip.
As the pace of the fight grew steadily quicker, Astrid started to take more and more hits as she couldn't keep up with his rhythm. Yelling again, she dropped her defense and went all-in with quick and brutal slashes from her axes. Biting her inner cheeks to ease up the pain of each punch she received from her opponent, her mind drifted to that same scene on the outpost island, where a defeated Hiccup kneeled in front of the Headless tribe, pleading allegiance. Unknown to her, her swings started to lose precision, but the Messenger picked up her lost look. Using two hands drag down a left slash, he quickly freed his right hand and armed one deadly punch directed straight towards her face. Astrid's pupils dilated when she saw the armored hand heading straight towards her, and in extremis, tilted her head just in time that she heard the whistling. To her big surprise, the other Viking grabbed her by her braid and pulled her towards him, close enough that she could see the ridges on his mask.
"Focus," he said before slamming his masked face onto her.
Astrid backed off two steps, visions filled with stars. A small stream of blood started pouring out of her nose, down to her lips where she could sense the metallic taste of her blood.
"Again," She said, gripping her axe firmly. This time, I will beat him.
Unknow to her, the Messenger smiled under his mask, before closing the distance in one swift motion. Only time, he was even faster than before. Under the rain of punches and kick, Astrid let her mind go on autopilot. Promptly dodging one ankle swipe and immediately countering by a kick to his ankles, Astrid managed to land some good hits.
Dodge, Dodge, parry, dodge again, hit, strike. She landed a satisfying punch on his abdomen, which make him bend in two. She quickly followed by a knee strike to his face, but the Messenger recovered quickly and managed to block it again.
Block, twist, hit, block again. Thud Astrid felt her stomach climbing up her throat when his knee came in contact with it.
Parry, dodge, parry, dodge, kick, jump, kick again. The Messenger managed to pin her right leg to his side again, but this time, she used it as a pivot to launch herself towards him, knee first. He stepped and forwards and bend his leg to dodge the strike before throwing her above him. They quickly turned around and Astrid strike again. Letting the flow of the fight guide her strikes, the blond shield maiden chained up slashes after slashes.
Batting her left swing away with his left arm and doing the same with her punch coming from the other side, The Messenger saw an opening: her chest was vulnerable because she has yet recovered from the momentum, he landed a swift punch right below her sternum, where the ribcages separate. It caused her to involuntarily raise her arm, and with blazing speed, he immobilized her right arm with his left hand, spinning around to get behind her, and drove his left knee in her wrist to make her drop her weapon. He followed by slamming his left leg behind her right knee and in the same motion, slammed down her shoulder with his free hand, breaking her balance. He took this opportunity to bring her to the ground below him, but not before grabbing her left wrist and twisting it under an arm lock.
There she lied, one arm pinned behind her back with his left knee, while the other was extended but still pinned by his right arm. Her weapon lied beside her face, the reflection showing her own, battered, and powerless face.
"I yield," She said for the first time in her life. It was no words that came out of her throat, but rather hot, molten iron that burned her in every shade of bitterness.
The Messenger got up and she climbed painfully on her knee. She grabbed her weapon, dusting the blade, and started to walk towards her dragon.
"Where are you going?" A voice came from behind.
"Finding the Headless home, and burning it to bits." She answered.
"Do you know where it is?"
"I failed, okay? So why are you keeping me?" She turned back and scowled.
"No, you didn't." The Messenger replied back. "The deal was if I judge you worthy enough. And I do."
"What?" Astrid was dumbfounded. How? She has just lost
"What did you fight for?" He asked.
"Hiccup" She replied.
"Why did you fail?"
"How am I supposed to know? Because you're are heavier, stronger and clearly more experienced maybe?" She shouted
"Let's me word this another way. Why did you fail so miserably?"
Astrid didn't know what to respond. Was it necessary for him to rub salt in her wound?
"It's because of this Hiccup guy." The Messenger answered. "You start a fight for something, but you never fight for something. During combat, your sole focus should be on your opponent. Hofferson, you have developed the instinct of fighting, the instinct that makes you act instead of thinking. Fighting for something makes you think, which inhibits that instinct."
"But everyone has that instinct, so what makes the difference?" She asked
"The ability to control it, and use it at your will, but without thinking." He replied. "So, what do you seek?"
After pondering for a bit, Astrid marched up to him and said: "Help me control it."
•—0—•
Hiccup stood at the docks, Toothless beside. He turned back and saw other Vikings mount out their dragons. In roughly twenty days, a solid number of Vikings managed to bound with a dragon. Strangely, none of them took the opportunity to overthrow the Headless. In fact, they were all waitings for the three commanders to join up.
Eir was the first one to show up, trailed with a proud looking, gold Stormcutter. Following him was Magnus with his viridian shade Rumblehorns. Tyrad was the last one to show up, only this time he wasn't accompanied by a dragon. Instead, he opted to jump on Eir's dragon and settled himself on the two-man saddles. This was maybe the only good outcome of this whole twenty days: Tyrad didn't bond with a dragon. A small fire of hope in the inferno that he himself ignited: giving the Headless tribe dragons to ride.
"Hiccup, you lead" Shouted Magnus from behind.
Reluctantly, the young chief swung his leg over Toothless's saddle and flipped the tail open. Unlike its usual red design, it was now sporting the Headless tribe of skeleton staring into his own skull. Another sign of his failure, and disgrace.
"Where to?" Hiccup shouted back,
"West," Magnus answered, we are going to meet the Thorndaile tribe."
\/—•—\/
After a quarter day of flying, the troop encountered an island with rich, flat hills that creep into the ocean, morphing into a beach at the very end. On one edge was build a village. The twenty or so dragons started to make their approach slowly.
"Dragon attack!" a war cry sounded from below.
"During the day? Are you crazy?"
"Look" someone pointed at the sky. And soon, it wasn't only fingers that were directed towards the firmament. Ballista's and catapults were firing at them.
"Blast it" Hiccup ordered. Promptly Toothless fired two plasma shots, blowing to bits the incoming boulders. His leathered gloved tensed onto the handles, waiting for the impending order to charge in and start blowing the village to piece.
"Hold" Tyrad shouted from the Stormcutter. And every dragon starts either hovering or circling like birds of prey, waiting for the perfect moment.
Surprised, Hiccup twisted around, only to see Tyrad attaching a parchment to an arrow before firing it downwards.
Soon, the dragon riders saw one single arrow fly upward in the sky, not directed at them before gravity did its work.
"Alright, we are clear to land." Said the Viking.
As soon as they landed, they were greeted by some burly Viking, sporting a thick fur cloth and even a thicker beard. Walking past Hiccup, he said: "Is that a Night Fury? Oh, Thor, you Headless are sure talented." Chuckling loudly, "So this is what terrorized the Night sky? Look at you, not so terrifying d now." Reaching out to pat a hand, only to be meet by the dragon razor-sharp tooth. The Viking quickly retracted his hands, looking annoyed, while still holding a challenging gaze upon the Night Fury.
"Chief Tremor" Tyrad spoke up, breaking the tension.
"What do you want from me, Headless?" the chief spoke back. "Don't you have already half the Archipelago and its resources?"
"Your island, or more precisely, your island location."
"What do you mean?"
"Your island is the closest to the whale migration path, which is a considerable amount of skin, food, and resources. So maybe we could strike a deal, using your Island as the major whale hunting port."
"Explain yourself"
"This is something better held behind closed door." Tyrad responded.
Tremor wanted to protest, saying that on his island, he makes the rules, but the Headless reputation dissuaded him from speaking out loud. Turning around, he walked back into his hut, Tyrad on his heels.
•—0—•
Hiccup was surrounded by the Thorndalar tribe, each one of them marvelous at the fact that such a fierce beast became so docile. The bravest of them even dared to approach their unexpected guests. However, no one dared to come close to Toothless, which Hiccup was very fine with. A Night Fury looking guy on top of the Night Fury itself strikes quite some intimidation.
Suddenly, thunderous laughter sounded from the chief. And soon, Tyrad and Tremor walking out, with Tremor's hand waving excitedly.
"I like this very much. Well, we have ourselves a deal!" Grabbing a wood peck to sign the parchment, before sharing a firm hand shack with Tyrad. 'And you got quite the grip, I like it."
Tyrad pocketed the parchment and climbed back onto the Stormcutter, "We will be expecting your man soon."
"I'll send them now." Tremor responded before gathering ten men, and told them to prepare a ship, ready to sail east.
Tyrad signaled Hiccup to take off, and one by one, the dragons all lift up in a cloud of dust, before heading back to their Island.
•—0—•
The next day, after some well-earned rest, Hiccup was called again by Eir to meet at the docks. After grabbing a slice of cure-meat and some bread at the hall, he walked down the wooden catwalks with a heavy step, wondering what will happen next. When he arrived, he saw the three Headless warriors with their dragons, as well as a crew of five extra men. What was strong is that they gathered a lot more dragons than necessary.
"What happened to their riders? "Hiccup asked, dreading the worst.
"Nothing" Magnus answered, "we only use their dragons for transports. Your job is to maintain them in formation, well you with your alpha Night Fury of course."
Hiccup glared at the huge Viking, praying Odin to grant him, even for one fraction of a blink, the ability to kill someone by looking at him. But his wish remained silent, and in a screech of leather, he saddled up to Toothless and gestured all the dragons to take off.
\/—•—\/
As they flew, the ocean got more and more agitated. Hiccup wandered where are they heading, because it was unlikely that any tribes will settle down in such hostile water. Suddenly, a rock formation: ten to twelve sharp rocks, emerging from the surface like the tooth of a beast, appeared in his vision.
"Here we are" Said Tyrad, "land on the island in the middle"
After passing the formation, Hiccup saw a small island, barren from the rest of the ocean those very same rocks. Taking out his magnifying glass, he distinguished a small village with a couple of small boats occupying the side of the island.
Landing on the island, he took in full view the state of the village: the formation protected them from the massive wave, but also cut them off from trade routes. Looking at the barren vegetation, he wondered why the Headless wanted to do anything with this inhospitable piece of land.
"Thank Odin you are here." A voice shouted, followed by a man running towards them.
Tyrad jumped down from the Stormcutter and met him.
"Is everything ready?" He asked
"Of course, we were all waiting for you."
"Perfect."
Tyrad gestured and the rest of his tribe unsaddled and started helping the locals carry all their belongings to the dragons. A confused Hiccup stopped one young Viking, looking about his age, and asked.
"What's going on?"
The other Viking, startled by his mask, took some time to answer. "You don't know? Well, the Headless tribe was kind enough to evacuate us from this island, because" He laughed painfully, "it doesn't have much." Pointing at the desolated island.
"Do you know what will happen if you go with them? "Hiccup asked again?
"Something along the line of helping around, I don't know, and don't really care, it's better than starving to death, plus, these dragons are quite handy, do you think I can get one?"
"You are not afraid that they will turn your tribe into slaves?" Hiccup pressed more urgently.
"What's your problem? Aren't you supposed to be with them? And no, they promised, and signed a deal." The other Viking shrugged Hiccup off before heading to a Gronckle and securing his bags.
Hiccup stood there, shocked. The Headless were supposed to be murderous savages that conquered tribes over tribes. But it seems that everything is pointing to be the opposite, they sign deals, and others are actually happy to meet them.
