Don't own How to Train Your Dragon or Naruto. Just writing because it's fun.
Prologue: This is Berk
He couldn't remember a time in his life when she wasn't there. She's always been there for him, yet only in his dreams, from the corner of his eyes. When he'd first told his mother of the woman that he sees, she had brushed him off, believing her to be some sort of imaginary friend. So, he learned to keep it to himself. After all, she had never harmed him so it wasn't like he was in any danger. In fact, she has been a comforting presence, smiling at him.
Three months from now, he will have seen sixteen winters, yet he still doesn't know her name, which is strange since he has seen her for as long as he could remember. That wasn't the only thing "strange" about her.
She has ears. Obvious is obvious, not that strange. No. She has fox ears. Two fuzzy crimson ears that stood proudly atop a head of fiery red. Her eyes were very much like her hair, a beautiful crimson that surrounds her slitted pupils. A soft, heart-shaped face, adorned with soft pink lips, a cute nose and six whisker-like markings made her the epitome of beauty.
Sometimes, he would see her in a strange dress, reaching down to the ground, accented with stitchings of fire, flower petals, and foxes. Other times, he would see her in what could only be described as combat gear. A chestplate of what appeared to be interlocking red leather hugged her generous bosom, complimenting the plated leather vambraces on her forearms. A pair of shorts showed off the shape of her thighs, armored along the outside to protect her thighs, while a pair of armored leather boots protected her feet and shins.
She looked like a valkyrie, sent down from the halls of Asgard to slay the jötnar who would intrude upon the humans of Midgard.
That is, if valkyries sported nine fire-like tails and a set of fox ears.
Tonight was no different from any other night. He would lay down in bed after dinner and would await her in the land of dreams. Though he could never speak to her, she always seemed to know what was on his mind.
"It's time to wake up, Naruto."
"Norulf!"
The sound of his name pierced the veil of sleep, accompanied by the resounding blast of a war horn. Two cacophonous notes could be felt reverberating through the very earth as the call to arms reached the furthest reaches of their island.
Like an arrow shot from a bow, Norulf was out of bed before the first note had even finished its call. His hand moved to the end of his bed without his command, grabbing the leather jerkin and tossing it over his green tunic, all while his legs carried him at a breakneck pace straight for the living room and the front door.
He met his mother in the living room, who stood in all her glory, armed for the fight ahead. Her longsword sheathed at her waist and a bow strapped over her left shoulder. A black wolf's pelt draped across her back and right arm, blending in with the dark locks of her hair, giving her a fierce, yet regal appearance. A strong and beautiful woman, her skin was slightly tanned from the days she had spent travelling the world before settling down to raise him.
"Head for the forge, stay safe and don't do anything stupid." With the urgency of the raid, she could only give him a few words.
"Have a little faith, mom. I'm your son!" he called out to her as the door slammed open, his mother already disappearing into the darkness of night.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of!" was the response that she gave, carried over to him over the sound of distant yells, explosions and arhythmic wingbeats.
Shaking his head, Norulf grabbed the pair of vambraces that hung from the wall, pulling the protective gear on and tightening the laces with judicious use of teeth and fingers. Mentally running through the route he would take to get to the forge, his hand instinctively reached for the sheathed sword that lay next to the vambraces, its familiar weight calming his thundering heart. With his gear, he burst out of the house, located some distance away from the rest of the town. Destination in mind and sword in hand, he pumped his legs, letting his muscle memory guide his steps as his eyes glanced around the dark of night.
Small silhouettes darted to and fro, temporarily blotting out the stars that speckled the night sky. Though they appeared small to the naked eye, he knew that those silhouettes were massive, far larger than any man could ever hope to be. Not even Stoick the Vast could ever hope to gain the size and speed of those shadows that danced across the night sky.
Then again, the man more than made up for his lack in speed with sheer strength, battle prowess and strategy.
The fires of the village, both man-made and out of control, lit up the night sky as he approached the village. What were once dark silhouettes in the sky revealed themselves to all who would dare to look up. Hundreds of writhing, moving bodies swarmed and amassed overhead, an endless sea of coloured scales and beating wings.
Every place that people live in have certain trials or challenges that made life there a little bit more difficult. Some places are constantly battered by storms. Others are decimated by flowing rivers of fire, frozen beneath mountains of snow during the ravages of winter, or simply too barren to properly nurture life.
The Isle of Berk had something a little more… unique to go along with its frozen winters and frostbitten produce.
Dragons.
Norulf had barely made it past the first buildings along the outskirts of the village when he was nearly roasted alive by a passing Nadder, its magnesium flame burning blazing across the stone path.
"Shit!" he hissed beneath his breath. He brought up his arms reflexively, doing his best to shield his skin from the searing heat of the world's hottest fire.
As soon as the flames have scattered and their heat abated, he continued his trek towards the forge once more. He kept to the shadows, keeping himself away from the line of fire and away from the stampeding vikings that filled the air with their battle cries and swinging blades.
Swinging your sword as hard as you can at flying enemies is quite the effective strategy… would be the thought of no sane person.
He could only shake his head, watching as the village of vikings swung their weapons ceaselessly, aimed at their flying adversaries, who kept to the air and away from the senseless rabble below. Unlike the rest of the village's buildings, the forge was located practically by itself next to the owner's house, just on the edge of a cliff.
So being in the forge during a dragon raid gives you several options for how you want death to take you. You could either die to a Nadder's spines, the blistering fires should the forge catch on fire, or you could jump out of the forge and fall to the cliff down below.
Shaking the morbid thoughts out of his head, he barged through the front door, smiling at the one-handed viking within.
"Hey, Gobber."
"Norulf, lad! I thought they'd gotten you."
"Almost got cooked by a Nadder fly-by, but sadly, they didn't."
"Like there's anything on you for them to cook!"
Gobber the Belch: a one-handed, one-footed blob of a viking. Like most of the vikings here on the island, he was strong, as required of the village blacksmith. Gobber is one of the few people on the island he was on friendly terms with. Wearing a fur tunic and vertically striped pants, the meathead's long moustache was braid, though he didn't know how the man could have done it with only one hand. His left hand - well, where his left hand should be - was replaced by a metal stump, used to attach an array of prosthetics to help him around the forge. Where his right leg should be was replaced by a peg leg. According to Gobber, both limbs were lost to a Monstrous Nightmare, a story he'd never failed to regale them with during quieter nights in the forge.
"Have ya seen her?"
"No, but she'll be fine."
"True enough. Yer not getting rid of her that easily."
Norulf shook his head, his spiky blond hair shining within the light of the forge. Even as they greeted and bantered, his feet have yet to stop moving as they carried him about the forge. Laden with bent and broken weapons, he soon deposited his cargo over the flaming coals of the firepit. With a mighty pump of the bellows, the red coals blazed to life, spreading their color to the weapons above.
"Sorry I'm late!" The out of breath apology broke through the din of the battle outside.
"Better late than never, lassie!"
Smiling, Norulf turned around, welcoming the forge's latest occupant with a smile and a greeting.
"Hey, Hicca."
"H-Hey, Norulf." She really needs to get more stamina if running from her home to the forge has gotten her out of breath.
Hicca Horrendous Haddock the Third. Quite a mouthful of a name and suited the tradition of naming kids horrific names to scare away gnomes and trolls.
His eyes darted outside at the thought, looking at the stampeding vikings with a raised eyebrow. Yes, because an angry viking running at you with a battleaxe isn't enough deterrent for you to stay away from their babies.
Hicca was… petite. There was no other way to put it. Although she was only a few months younger than he was, she was small, far smaller than her age would suggest. At five foot two, she was tiny compared to the meathead who was currently working on a bent sword with his hammer prosthetic. Like Gobber had often called her, she was as much of a toothpick as they came. Though she was relatively short and thin, the girl had a surprising amount of muscle strength, often seen when one actually paid attention to her around the forge.
He bit back a scoff. Paying attention to the village pariah. There's a funny thought. Like most of these people really gave a damn about her.
With her fur boots, vest and green tunic, the girl was definitely cute. A freckled face, sparkling green eyes, and long brown hair, she would grow up to be quite a looker. That is, if she survived the coming years.
"Come on, let's go!"
The shout of a young girl's voice made Norulf briefly look up from the sword he was hammering back into shape. Several figures, outlined by the firelight, charged past the forge's open window, sending Hicca scampering to catch some part of the action. Norulf could only spare them a few moments of his attention before turning back to his work. That was probably the fire brigade, working to put out the smaller fires started by the dragons.
Admirable, yet ineffective.
The point was proven as he watched the group of teens from the corner of his eyes. Snotlout, a short, yet muscular boy, could only reach the low burning fires, which could do little to stop the roof from burning. Ruffnut and Tuffnut, a pair of fraternal blond twins, fought over their bucket of water, only to end up spilling it and resort to rough housing, despite being in the middle of a battlefield. Fishlegs, a ridiculously large teen with disproportionately tiny legs, was far too worried about getting hit by stray fireballs to even bother leaving the water tank they'd been pushing around to put out any fires.
Then last, but definitely not least, was Astrid Hofferson, the most driven and capable of those in their age group. Still, her efforts were all for not as the fire she'd put out a second ago was reignited by a concussive fireball, blowing chunks of debris all across the streets.
"And where do you think yer goin'?" Norulf watched, amused as Hicca was picked up by the scruff of her vest by the man's hook prosthetic.
"Please! Let me out! I need to get out there and make my mark!" was Hicca's defense.
"Oh you've made plenty of marks, all in the wrong places!"
"Please! I'll go out there, I'll kill a dragon, my life will get infinitely better, I might even get a date!" Like always, Hicca's hands flailed about as she spoke, making Norulf smile at the optimistic girl.
"Ya can't swing a hammer, ya can't swing an axe, ya can't even through one of these!" Almost as if to prove a point, a passing viking grabbed the bolas right out of Gobber's hands, throwing it and downing a Gronkle with remarkable skill.
Impressive.
"Okay, fine! But this," she gestured towards a contraption in the corner of the shop, "will throw it for me."
It was as if Loki was out to make fun of her, the contraption sprung open and fired. Norulf had barely ducked down fast enough to feel the breeze of the passing bolas while Hicca and Gobber danced aside, leaving some poor viking out of the shop's window to get nailed right in the face. Poking his head out of the window, Norulf checked on the poor bastard. A broken nose and probably a concussion.
Even more impressive.
"See, now this right here is what I'm talkin' about!"
"Mild calibration issu-"
"Hicca, Hicca! If you ever want to get out there, to fight dragons, you need to stop all," Gobber stopped, like he was searching for a word, only to settle with, "this." To add insult to injury, he gestured towards her, though at no place in particular.
"But you just gestured to all of me."
"Yes!" He'd stated it like he'd made some groundbreaking discovery. "That's it! Stop being all of you."
"Ohhh."
"Ohhh, yea."
"Y-You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much raw vikingness, contained? There'll be consequences!"
It was quite cute, watching the tiny girl try to intimidate the mountain of a man.
"I"ll take my chances," Gobber deadpanned. "Sword, sharpened, now."
With his words, Gobber dropped a dull and dirty blade straight into the girl's arms before walking away, a broken hammer in his hand. Though she followed his instructions without protest, Norulf could see the defiance and determination brimming beneath Hicca's eyes.
Stubborn girl.
Even as she set about sharpening the blade on the grindstone, her shoulders were set and her posture straightened, like a caged dragon, awaiting her chance to break free.
"Norulf, Hicca!" Norulf looked up from his task, his hands still moving to sort the weapons into piles of repairable and scrap. "Man the fort! They need me out there." He leveled a stern gaze on Hicca. "Stay. Put. There."
Norulf could only smile as he looked at the girl's reaction, clearly not amused at being treated like a dog by the man as seen by the way she crossed her arms.
"Keep her out of trouble." This time, the remark was pointed at him. "RAAHHHHH!" With that he charged into the village, looking for dragons to kill and people to help. Probably in that order.
Sparing Hicca a smile, Norulf turned back into the forge and went back to work, fixing the broken weapons and occasional dented helmets. Without looking up from the ever growing pile of useless weapons, he struck up a conversation.
"You're going out there, aren't you?"
"Yup!"
"And I can't stop you?"
"Nope!"
He looked up from the weapons, sighing as he noticed her locking a new set of bolas into the contraption before tweaking and fixing the weapon. Probably trying to fix those "mild calibration issues" she mentioned earlier.
"Done then?"
"Yea." She then looked down at her feet, shifting and swaying back and forth with her hands behind her back. "You… you aren't going to try and stop me?"
"We both know you won't listen." He responded, smiling and strapping his sword onto his back.
"Hey!" She poked a finger against his chest. "I listen! I just… don't do what you want me to do."
"Uh huh." He smirked and tilted his head towards the door. "Ready to make your mark?"
"Uh… yea." Her face turned red.
"Come on. Let's get out of here before the heat gets to you."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Ugh! Stupid blond boys with stupid whisker marks.
Hicca couldn't help but glance at her friend's rear as he ran ahead of her while she pushed the Mangler along. Damn.
"Like marble," she thought.
Too bad he was too dense to realize that she was crushing on him. He always thought that her blushing near him was either her being sick or the heat of the forge making her face flush.
"No, idiot, it's you!"
It's hard being a girl who is crushing on her denser-than-diamond best friend. Almost as hard as making her father proud of her. Not as difficult since she could always keep the crush to herself. Making her father proud on the other hand… not gonna happen. It would take something monumental, something like taking down a Nightfury, a Gronkle, a Nadder and a Monstrous Nightmare in a single fight, barehanded, to appease that man.
Well, with the Mangler, she might just be able to get at least one of those dragons. Not barehanded, but it's a start.
Once they ran past the last torches, Norulf fell back beside her, keeping his head low and a hand on his blade.
Damn, he looks good with that smirk.
"Focus, girl! This is your chance to impress him!"
With her goal established and her heart set, she slammed down the Mangler on the edge of the cliff, stomping her foot down on the pedal, forcing the device open. A series of springs and levers force the ballista through the closed top, allowing the frame and drawstrings to spring open. Her hand wrapped itself around the crank on the side of the device, pulling the drawstrings back and loading in a bolas she had grabbed on the way out, she waited, her attention affixed upon the night sky, tuning out even her best friend and crush.
She could barely make out a dark silhouette, gliding and hiding the stars above.
"Gimme a shot, gimme a shot."
The answer to her prayers came in the form of a shrill screech, a sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand and her to shiver in fear, as the silhouette dove towards the ground. Not a second later, a nearby catapult tower exploded in a shower of blue flames and shattered stone. In spite of it all, she held her ground, doing her best to keep her hands steady and her eyes on the prize. A shadow passed in front of the blaze, swooping down low before pulling straight back up.
"There!"
Her hands jerked to the side, leading the Mangler's shot in front of her target and squeezed on the trigger. The force of the taut drawstrings released with a solid snap, sending the bolas into the air at astonishing speed. The kick of the shot, however, sent Hicca backwards, sprawling onto her ass.
THWACK!
A terrified screech filled the air, causing a well of hope to stir within her chest. Her eyes snapped upwards, following the path that she had seen the silhouette take before she was knocked off the Mangler, catching the briefest glimpse of a dark spot falling towards the horizon.
"I did it! I did it!" She whirled around. "Norulf, did you-"
Whatever she was going to say was abruptly stopped as the air was forced out of her lungs, her crush having knocked her to the ground. Even though she was disoriented, she could feel a rush of air pass by over her as something massive leapt overhead. She gasped, drawing back in as much air as possible as her eyes searched the stern face of her best friend.
CRASH! CRUNCH!
Her eyes widened at the sound, turning around beneath the frame of her friend. Her Mangler, one of the only successful devices she had ever made, was turned into a pile of scrap metal and firewood beneath the claw of a Monstrous Nightmare.
A Monstrous Nightmare that was currently glaring at them, a warning growl rumbling through its body.
"Well, shit."
An icy cold hand wrapped itself around her heart. She couldn't breathe as she stared into its toxic yellow eyes. As the wing flaps on its forelimbs unfurled, she finally realized her situation. [2]
She was going to die with her best friend. And it was all her fault. She brought them out here.
Any more depressing, self-destructive thoughts she might have had on the subject were lost as Norulf pulled her up by her stomach. Being saved by your crush is one thing.
Being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes is another.
"EEP! NORULF!"
Her yell was the last thing they needed, however, as the Nightmare took it as a sign of aggression. Its head reared back, the oval pupils became slitted as it focused on the pair of teens. Though she couldn't see it, what with her rear facing the dragon, but she could still hear the tension build up as the dragon breathed in.
A deafening roar followed soon after, rattling her bones and upsetting her ears. Her hands clamped down on her ears, blocking out as much of the sound as she could, even shutting her eyes to stop her blurring vision.
"Oh SHIT!" She yelped out loudly as Norulf turned tail and ran from the Nightmare, his passenger in tow. Now, she was facing the irate dragon. "You gotta go faster!"
"I know!"
Normally, she would be more incensed at being treated like a sack of potatoes, but since the blond was currently keeping her away from the jaws of death, quite literally, she'll put up with it.
"EEP!" She squeaked out in fear as the Nightmare's jaws snatched at the air, a few scant inches away from her head. "FASTER!"
"What do you think I'm trying to do?!"
Back amongst the streets and houses of the village, Norulf took advantage of the alleyways and streets, turning sharply around a corner as the massive dragon plowed along behind him. Unable to stop its momentum, the red and black dragon rolled straight through a building as it tried to swipe at the duo.
"Ah shit! The Aubers' are not gonna be happy!"
"We can't apologize to them if we're dead!" With the dragon temporarily incapacitated by the building that collapsed on it, Norulf dropped his friend to her feet. "Go! Get your dad!"
"What about you?!"
"I'll be fine, now go!"
She couldn't offer any further protests as the Nightmare thrashed about, sending chunks of debris flying about. One of which was flying straight at her.
"Hicca!"
She couldn't move fast enough to dodge the wood chunk that came flying at her, its splintered edges dangerously sharp. When she thought she was done for, Norulf pushed her out of the way with his left hand while his right arm came up to his head, using the vambrace as a shield against the wooden projectile. The world slowed to a crawl as she watched the debris shatter against Norulf's vambrace, the largest remnant flipping through the air and smashing against his head. Blood flowed from what she knew to be an open wound on his head, matting his blond hair in a stream of crimson.
"Norulf!"
The aforementioned blond staggered backwards as the blow left him dazed, his ears ringing from the impact. Still, he did his best to keep his eyes on the dragon, which was starting to free itself from the debris.
Stubborn idiot.
"Norulf!"
When his eyes remained fixed to the dragon, she laced her fingers with his, forcibly dragging him away, only made possible by his disorientation. Just as they rounded a corner, blocking their trapped pursuer from view, an angered roar followed them.
The hut in front of them erupted into a shower of wood and flames as the Nightmare burst forth, coated in its own flames. It reared its head back, ready to either bite, or torch them into oblivion.
Hicca found her body moving on its own as her best friend pulled her to the side and away from the enraged dragon, leaving himself standing in its crosshairs. She could only watch as he shakily drew his blade and the dragon's metaphorical hackles rose.
This wasn't a fight he could walk away from.
"Norulf!"
This time, the cry didn't come from her lips. She was too shocked to breathe, let alone cry out his name. Arrow after arrow pelted the flaming dragon, the metal heads piercing the flame-retardant scales with ease.
Enraged, the dragon lashed out. Unfortunately, the only one in its range was Norulf. Its forelimb lashed out, its razor sharp claws glinting in the firelight, sharper than any sword, deadlier than any axe, aimed directly at his side.
Fear became the only thing she knew as she watched those claws crash against Norulf's upright blade. The screech of sharpened metal and honed claws would have made her cringe, but she was too focused on the exchange to care.
The blade kept the claws from tearing him to shreds, but it didn't stop the force of the massive creature. Sent flying like a ragdoll, the blond was smashed against the stone walkway. A sickening crunch could be heard in spite of the noise of battle.
"Get away from my son!"
Faster than her eye could see, a blade sang through the air, cleaving flesh and scales alike as the blond's mother came to his defense. In the light of the flaming Nightmare, she looked like a draugr. Her gleaming blade became the beacon of her presence, shining brightly in the light of its victim.
Roars of pain and anger gave way to fear and desperation. By now, it was far too injured, sustaining cuts and slashes across its head and nose, burning and hurting itself within its own flames. With its injured pride and broken scales, the Nightmare jumped to the top of a nearby home before taking flight. The blast of wind shook Hicca out of her stupor and scrambling towards her downed friend.
"Norulf!"
"Oh Thor! There's so much blood!"
Pooling against the sidewalk and staining his clothes, the vital fluid matted his hair and darkened his skin. Already, some of it had dried, leaving a flaky veneer on his cheeks and arms. She ignored the puddles of life-giving blood and focused on the teen, searching him for any major injuries that would need to be dressed before they moved him.
A broken arm, most likely the cause of the nauseating crunch they heard. A scrape along the side of his head and a gash on his right shoulder, both of which are the cause of the massive amounts of bleeding. She nearly panicked when she saw how much blood was pooling along the injuries.
"Hicca!" She glanced up, her body reacting to the commanding tone of voice from the concerned mother. "Grab his sword. I'll carry him."
Shaky hands found the handle of the sword that had saved his life, its blade nicked and chipped in three distinct places. Uneven footing nearly sent her stumbling as she stood up aside the worried, yet visibly calm mother as she held her son in her arms. She could never hope to catch up to the mother as she took off, racing across the village with fleet-footed haste. By the time she'd reached their home, Norulf's mother had already stripped the teen down to his underwear, a simple pair of brown linen briefs.
Hicca dropped the sword off by the door, going straight to the fireplace to heat up a kettle of water and set about sorting through the jars of medicinal herbs in the kitchen cupboards. Like always, whenever the blond haired boy was involved, her stomach was aflutter with butterflies, her palms clammy in the presence of her crush. This time, however, the butterflies in her stomach left her sickened and the clammy palms felt cold and dreadful.
Her shaking hands knocked over several jars of dried roots and leaves, which were left ignored as she ground, mixed, and poured the required ingredients together.
Regardless, her eyes constantly darted from the mixture to the unconscious teen and his mother, though her hands never stopped their work. Pouring the boiling water over the powdered collection of herbs and roots, she nearly tripped in her rush to get to the side of the tending mother.
"Here." Her voice seemed uncomfortably weak and out of place in the silence of the hut.
"Thank you."
She could only bite her lip as she slowly fed the concoction to the unconscious boy, grimacing as her crush's face twisted in displeasure at the taste.
Gothi's herbal mixtures are nasty as all Hel, but at least they get the job done.
As soon as the last drop of the tincture was gone, she was moving about once more, soaking a set of bandages in the boiling hot water before bringing them out and drying them as best she could without scalding herself. Norulf's mother, however, moved her hand and bandages through the hot water without trepidation.
With the bandages cleaned and left aside, her stomach lurched as she finally caught sight of Norulf's broken arm without his shirt in the way. A jagged spike of bone protruded from his skin, a stark contrast to the crimson blood and tan skin of its owner. Her head swam as an uncomfortable weight settled around her. She couldn't draw her eyes away from the sight as the older woman quickly set the bone back in place in a single motion.
Only a grunt of pain came from the unconscious teen, who remained perfectly still and silently otherwise.
"Help me bandage him up."
Her body was already moving long before she had consciously registered those words in her mind. First was the shoulder, a wound that had somehow already scabbed over despite its size and grievous depth. Still, they didn't want the wound to become infected, so she set about wrapping his chest in layer after layer of white linen as his mother set about to bandage his arm.
Hopefully, the idiot won't end up jostling his arm again when he wakes up.
His head was next, a mess of matted blood, dirt and hair that had to be removed, lest they want further complications while his head healed. Holding him up as his mother set about shaving the right side of his head, Hicca winced as she picked out splinters of wood from the scalp of her best friend.
Stupid noble idiot. Stupid Nightmare. Stupid inventions. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.
"Hicca."
A gentle hand and a soft voice broke her from her downward spiral. When her eyes failed to focus on the woman, she brought her hand up to her face, wiping at her eyes, realizing that she had been crying.
"It'll be alright. You know he heals quickly. He'll be up and about before the week is over."
"I know. I know, but," her voice was caught in a lump in her throat, "if he didn't have to save me, he wouldn't be in this condition in the first place!"
"Don't think about that now. At least you're safe. Both of you. Norulf would never forgive himself if he'd allow any harm to come to you." She tilted her head towards the fireplace. "Go make yourself some tea, dear."
Wordlessly, Hicca stood up, acknowledging the command and barely noting the sun that had begun to rise. Though the tea was comforting to her stomach, her heart still wouldn't hold still, constantly reminding her of the pain she'd caused the blond that had stayed by her side through thick and thin.
"The Night Fury!"
Even now, the thought of the dragon she'd downed in the hopes of making her father proud was made bitter by the wounds that adorned her friend. What was the point of making her father proud if the one person who had been there for her through all this time was hurt because of her?
He'd stayed by her side, stood up for her, taken care of her.
Stolen her heart.
And how did she repay him?
She glanced over, at the boy. His fresh bandages had already been stained with specks of red, though far less than one would expect from injuries of such magnitude.
She'd been so helpless. If she'd stayed in the forge loke Gobber had told her to do, he wouldn't be in this position.
Her mind replayed the events of the night. Specifically, the moment that Nightmare had lunged at him. Gleaming claws and glistening teeth. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.
She recalled the clash of steel on honed claws of bone. Somehow, he had survived. Survived against that dragon. Only because his mother had stepped in. She, on the other hand, had been of no help.
She jumped as a hand gripped her shoulder, nearly spilling the cup of tea in her hand. Her green eyes rested on concerned brown.
"Hicca…"
"I'm fine."
"You know he wouldn't blame you." She couldn't look into the mother's eyes.
"Well, he should."
"And do you think he will?" The older woman wrapped an arm around the morose brunette.
"No."
"I don't blame you either. That's just who he is." She stood beside the shorter girl, smiling softly as she stroked her hair. "You should head home. Your father is probably worried sick about you."
"Don't you mean happy that I'm not around?" She mentally scoffed. "Alright." She glanced back at the blond. "I'll come by to check up on him later."
"I'm sure you will."
[1] Norulf, according to Behind A Name, means "he who keeps his word." A bit on the nose for Naruto, but I'll take it. Any Norwegians or etymologists who manage to read this, can you confirm or refute in the reviews? Please and thank you.
[2] I based the Nightmare's behaviour on what I saw in the movie and the shows along with inspiration from Monster Hunter's Tigrex. Don't own either of these franchises. Just sayin'.
