"Dancing with my head.
On a floor on fire."
Ingrid sat in her own working place in the dragon hanger. A working place she pretty much made her own after putting all her informations of dragons and islands in that room over the years and even started to make one of the walls a map. The wall that was furthest and the first wall you saw when stepping inside the room, was almost covered with the map with Berk being in the middle. A round table was in the middle of the room and by the map wall was a desk and on the side walls was bookshelves. On the wall that the door was in the middle, was a desk that had usually food on it when they (or she) was in there for hours. The only downside was that it hadn't place for the dragons to be in there. Well her dragon, Kyria could be in there and Finns changewing, Lyrke. Frida's dragon, Signe could fit in here too, but not the rest. But the stables was just outside the door so it wasn't a problem.
She had help of the chief when she asked if she could have the room as her own work place. He said yes and showed her his map that he hadn't really continued with after becoming chief. The room was also far back of the hanger and it had just been a storage room before. She loved that she had her own place that wasn't her bedroom and this the place she and the teens could talk about where to go or what to do next. Like their own little great hall.
And right now they had a dragon eye to discuss about. They had decided that they would met here after lunch. So now all Ingrid had to do was wait.
She told herself that he was her grandfather and he should know what's good for her. She also told herself to trust her father because he knows best. Her brother said that their grandfather only wanted what was best for his grandchildren. And her mother tried to tell her to listen to herself and decide for herself how she wanted to live her life. Gods did Thora hate to be a Jorgenson.
The morning was going great. The breakfast tasted good, her mother asked her if she wanted som training lessons when they were done eating, her father and brother talked about how the new stable would look like and then the good morning was destroyed when her grandfather, Spitelout had come in without warning.
Ever since her brother, Brant was born, Spitelout had tried to raise him as a Jorgenson. A big ego, never lose a fight, be the most stubborn person ever and always be best at everything. Snotlout had told him that he didn't want that to his child. He knows how it is to live like that and he knows how much pressure it is. Heather had put her foot down so many times. Especially when Spitelout told her that he would not have grandchildren raised as berserkers. Since then, Snotlout and Heather told him to back off and never be around Brant ever again. But he found ways to come into their life's, especially Brants.
Thora had been under her father's wings ever since she was born, but he couldn't protect her from everything. She became torn between being a Jorgenson and looking up to her big brother, who she loved and wanted to be like. She wanted to love all her family, even her grandfather. She was confused and even more so when her grandmother died ten years ago.
Her grandmother was a kind women who tried to tell Spitelout off, just like she had when Snotlout was a boy. It didn't really help, which made Thora think of how they even were married. But after all she couldn't believe how her own parents were married and had two kids. She guess love is a weird thing and something she will never understand.
Thora looked between her parents and her grandfather as they spoke. She needed to get out of here before they start to yell at each other. So she just walked out of the house, without anyone calling after her. She closed the door behind her and heard Berk coming alive.
Even with all these people and dragons around her, she often felt alone. Sure she had her dragon, Ray who listen to her and tried to cheer her up, but she wanted someone to tell her what to do. She tried to talk to her mother, but it felt like she would just be a burden. A burden her family didn't need. Maybe they didn't need her. At all. Why was she even born? Why being under her father's wings when all he does it protect her? She didn't need protecting. She wanted to understand. She wanted to be the perfect daughter and at the same time she told herself that she didn't need to be perfect.
Why is she doing this to herself?
The rumble of Ray made her go out of her thoughts and almost made her smile.
"Hey, buddy." she said and scratched his chin. "Let's go for a flight, before we meet the gang."
When the gang had eating their lunch, they finally came into the Ingrid's workplace and started to talk about the dragon eye. What secret it held. If it was the same as the dragon eye their parents found. What if there were new dragons species they never heard of. Or new places?
But the problem was how to open it.
"All we need is a whispering death spine and a nadder spine." Brant said.
"Yeah," Vylma began. "If we become friends with its mother first. We've never seen the screaming death so it doesn't know us. The mother only know our parents and we can't ask them to get a spine from her son without telling them what we need it for."
Stoick nodded his head. "She's right. We need to have a plan if we want to make it out alive."
"Right, so we need to make it angry or threatening so it make a spine shot and we can take the spine. As long the spines doesn't fall into the ocean or on us, we'll be fine." Thora said like it was obvious.
"And pray it won't follow us." Frida added.
Vylma tilted her head and pressed her lips together, trying to think of a plan that would actually work.
"If we find the mother first it would be easier to get to the whispering death and she even tell her son to leave us alone when we fly away from there." Olav pointed out and looked between the nine teenagers standing around the table.
"Let's hope we find the mother first and not her son." Finn said.
"And that she'll listen to us." Brant chimed in.
The gang jumped when Vylma slammed her hand to the table. "Guys, I have a plan."
"Good," Stoick began. "But let's make a plan B, not that you're not good a planning, but we don't have the best luck in the world when we make plans."