Author's Note: This is it! Living Freely has begun posting; you can find it with the rest of my stories in my profile. To mark that occasion, this is also the end of the Deleted Scenes, and the last thing that will be posted here.
For our final deleted scenes, we have several more entire chapters of uncut, unfiltered madness. Thus, this is the smallest table of contents of them all, despite the massive wordcount:
Battle of the Irrationals, Continued (Chapter 28)
Closing the Circle (Chapter 29)
Roaring and Rocks (Chapter 42)
Maour regained consciousness almost immediately, as did Toothless. Maour noticed before anything else that the link was broken... kind of? It was definitely broken, but there was still a tiny fragment of something where it had been. He wasn't sure what it was, or why it was there. This had never happened before. He decided to wonder about that later. Along with every other insane thing that had just happened.
Right now, Maour focused on staggering out of his saddle and unsheathing his scythe, fighting dizziness. As his head cleared, he noticed that their crash had apparently cleared most of the Berserkers entirely off of the ship. But Dagur had not been among that number, and neither had Savage.
Maour unlocked his scythe and turned to face them. Toothless groaned behind him, the otherworldly blue glow gone. Maour knew he needed to hold Dagur and Savage off long enough for Toothless to recover, at least. So he decided talking might help. "So much for your armada." Hmm. Not the best way to keep Dagur occupied, but it was all he had come up with.
Dagur squinted at him, tossing his ax from hand to hand. "True. Not that I really care. It's too late for you to stop us anyway."
That was odd. "Stop you? I think Toothless and I just did." He wasn't sure what Dagur was referring to.
Dagur laughed. "No, you didn't. But you're going to die right now anyway, so that doesn't matter." He glanced at Toothless. "What in Odin's name was that, anyway?"
"Beats me. We trashed your entire armada with it though." Maour remembered what had happened. "And apparently I caught a crossbow bolt... with my bare hands? Did that really happen?" He remembered how it had been done, and the implications. Later. He would deal with it later.
Dagur nodded seriously. "I saw that. The most ridiculous thing I've ever seen." He grinned. "Think you can do it with my ax?" He mimed throwing the ax. Then he reconsidered. "Nah, I'm just going to ki-"
Savage tackled Dagur, driving him out of the way of a weak plasma blast, no bigger than Dagur's head, one that had indeed been aimed right at Dagur's head.
Einfari growled menacingly, landing in between Maour and Dagur.
Heather shouted at Maour from the saddle, still facing Dagur. Her voice was filled with fear. "Astrid's on the island! She was never here, she slipped around! They just landed!" She glared at Dagur. "Go, you two! We've got this."
Maour froze for a split second, before going to Toothless and pulling at his brother's head. "Bud, we can't rest yet! Come on!"
Toothless whined piercingly, apparently trying to stay down.
Maour screamed at his brother. "I don't care what just happened, get up! We can deal with it later!" He decided to stop pulling his punches. "Astrid is going for the caves!"
That pulled Toothless out of whatever mental funk he had been in. He rose unsteadily, growling in a curiously fluctuating pitch for a moment before his growl stabilized. He turned to look at Maour, eyes wide and horrified.
Maour wasted no time jumping on, and they took off one last time. Into the sky, towards the Isle. Towards Astrid. Towards the caves.
Heather watched them go. Something in Maour's words was extremely unnerving. What had he said? 'I don't care what just happened! We'll deal with it later!' That didn't sound good. She focused on the task at hand. "Dagur. I believe we have some unfinished business."
Dagur stared at her, nonplussed. "I wanted to kill them myself. But Astrid can have them." He glared at her. "I'll just end you instead."
Heather considered that, and jumped out of the saddle, landing in front of Einfari. "I'll give you as much of a chance as you gave my home village." She stepped aside, gesturing to Einfari, who bared her teeth in a hair-raising snarl. "None."
Together, she and her sister attacked her so-called brother.
"Toothless, land here." Maour pointed at Shield's clearing.
Toothless abruptly dropped, hitting the ground hard. He groaned and shook his head.
Maour jumped off, still looking in the direction of the caves. "Bud, we gotta go on foot from here. We can't risk another crossbow bolt, especially by the clearing in front of the cave. Are you up for that?"
Toothless stared at him for a second, eyes still wide, before nodding.
That made Maour remember something. "Oh, right." He approached Toothless quickly, placing a hand on his brother's forehead, and meeting his eyes. He waited.
Toothless closed his eyes and looked away. Maour's hand was still on his head, but he refused to rebuild the link.
Maour frowned. "Bud, we don't have time for this, and we need to talk later anyway. Please. You know I trust you. Trust me." He watched Toothless's closed eyes. They didn't open. He felt at that tiny fragment where the link had been, waiting for Toothless to-
And it was back like it had never been broken. Maour looked down at Toothless again and watched as his brother opened his eyes. Something about what had just happened didn't fit, but he ignored it. "Let's go!" He turned to the cave and broke out in a full-on sprint, Toothless beside him, in a race against time.
They ran, moving as Night Furies did, human and dragon together. But soon they happened across a Berserker, moving through the woods. Astrid must have had them spread out. It didn't make sense, but that was the only explanation Maour could think of for why there was a Berserker alone here. Searching the island. For his family and people.
Maour reacted, unlocking his scythe in the same motion as pulling it out of the holster. He swung, not even stopping in his sprint. He felt a tug that meant he had connected. The blade was bloody when he pulled it back, and there was no shout or retaliatory blow. He didn't look back. This was about as desperate as things were ever going to get. Any regret he might have felt was instantly expunged by remembering where they were, and why he was running. Every Berserker he and Toothless incapacitated was one less to threaten his family.
Throughout that entire encounter, Maour hadn't even slowed. As he and Toothless got closer to the cave, they encountered more and more Berserkers, moving in ones and twos through the forest, who seemed to be searching for something. Maour and Toothless ended them as quickly and efficiently as possible, only slowing when absolutely necessary. They couldn't be too late. They had to move faster, be quicker!
Shield tore a spear out of a Berserker's grip and clawed the arm that had held it. The spurt of blood indicated a hit, and the hand withdrew with a scream of pain. He had retreated to a narrow bend in the entranceway, lurking behind the curve. No Berserker could pass through except in single file, and he tore any who tried that limb from limb. After the first few demonstrations of that, few tried. Sneak attacks like blindly jabbing a spear around the corner were instead attempted. That hadn't worked very well either.
He was holding out. None had passed. And none ever would, if he had his way.
Then the Berserkers retreated. There was silence. Someone spoke, female by the voice. "You are all cowards and failures. I'll do it myself."
That didn't sound good. Shield braced himself. He backed a little further into the passageway so that any sneaky jabs wouldn't reach. But there was no sneaky jab. Just a very familiar blond warrior with a twin half-moon-bladed ax, and a torch in her other hand. Astrid.
Shield snarled viciously, a sound that echoed through the cave. He spoke, knowing she couldn't hear him. 'I will end you.'
Astrid smiled. "Finally. Nowhere to run, nowhere to fly. A Night Fury who faces me!" She looked at him. "And one who has seen battle. Good." She abruptly hurled her torch at him, and swung her ax at his neck, screaming as she did.
Shield was out of fire, so he simply let the torch bounce off and slapped the ax away. He head-butted Astrid to the ground and moved to pin her and her ax.
Astrid tilted the ax just as his paw came down on it, cutting him and forcing him to put all of his weight on his other front paw, which she promptly jabbed in the wrist with a knife.
Shield cried out in pain, head slamming to the floor as he lost both front supports while leaning forward.
Astrid whipped her ax up and slammed the broad side against his scar, an immensely painful impact. Shield saw stars and tried to lunge forward and eviscerate Astrid.
She simply clubbed him with the butt of her ax handle and knife handle together, slamming them down on his head. That was the last straw. Shield lost consciousness, his last glimpse of the world Astrid's victorious smile.
Einfari lunged for Savage, a feint in Dagur's direction throwing the man off guard, while Heather swung her folded ax at Dagur's midsection.
Savage dropped his weapon and promptly jumped overboard. Fighting was well and good, but they had already lost the war. No reason to die for that, he thought.
Einfari turned and beheld her sister attacking Dagur, one ax against another.
"You're... better than I... expected." Dagur was speaking in spurts, in between parried blows, blocks, and counterstrikes. "But not that good." With that, he blocked a diagonal overhead swing by Heather.
Heather grinned. "With one ax." With that, she unfolded the ax, forcing Dagur back as he had to avoid the new blade. She attacked anew, hitting with both ends one after the other. It was somewhat similar to Maour's style of fighting, but with no reversals or breaks in the pattern. She was less flexible with how she could attack, but that didn't matter at the moment. Each attack flowed into the next seamlessly.
Dagur started sweating, being pushed back. "Why does everyone have crazy weapons? I blame Hiccup. He started it with that stupid spear thing." He swore heavily as Heather caught his arm, scoring a light gash that oozed blood.
Heather laughed, pushing harder. "He made this ax." She swiped at Dagur, then blocked two attacks in rapid succession, chipping a fragment off of Dagur's ax head as she did.
Dagur grinned maniacally, having by this point taken the measure of Heather's weapon. He began attacking more and more, retaking the initiative... until he was swept off of his feet by something under him.
Einfari had intervened, tripping Dagur up with her tail. She chuckled as Heather quickly put a blade to Dagur's throat, and then folded the ax somewhat, so that the other blade was on his stomach. Just to be safe.
Heather smiled at Dagur's outraged expression. "I don't fight fair, and neither does my sister."
Dagur groaned dramatically. "Oh, come on!"
"Really, I did warn you. So no complaining." Heather pushed a little harder with her ax, drawing a drop of blood on Dagur's throat. Then she hesitated.
"Just do it already!" Dagur was defiant. "Any Berserker would!"
Heather's face tightened, and she glared at Dagur. "And that's true." She looked over at Einfari. "Get rid of his ax."
Einfari quickly pulled Dagur's ax over and tossed it off of the ship. Almost hitting Savage, not that she noticed. 'I knew you were better than that.'
Heather smiled and kicked Dagur in the head. She refolded her ax once it was clear he was unconscious from that. "I am. Berserkers kill in cold blood, or just for revenge. I don't think Riders do." She moved to the mast, and cut quite a bit of rope, afterward proceeding to tie Dagur up, sparing none of it. Inspection of his outfit revealed an impressive number of hidden knives, all of which Heather discarded, except for two. She tucked those behind her belt.
Einfari warbled curiously at that. 'Why keep those?'
Heather grinned. "I figured Camicazi might want a souvenir. I owe her for training with me those months on the ship. It's the only reason I could even come close to matching Dagur. And I owe you for ending that fight. I'm not sure how much longer I could have kept that up."
Einfari heard a subtle clunk and turned to see Savage clinging to the side of the ship, head and shoulders above the level of the deck.
Savage paled. "I would raise my hands in surrender, but I can't. I surrender!"
Heather laughed, walking over. "I believe you." She grabbed his arms and grinned as Einfari promptly clubbed him with a paw, knocking him out as well. She laboriously pulled Savage up and tied him up as well. "You could have waited until he climbed up. He was heavier than he looks!"
'That would have been risky. Better you have a little more work.'
Heather frowned. "Actually, we aren't done yet, remember?" She took one last look at Dagur and Savage. "But we can't leave them together. They might figure out a way to untie each other."
'I know how to stop that.' Einfari grabbed Dagur, and suspended him from a rope around his waist, leaving him dangling from the mast about ten feet up. She did the same to Savage, but twenty feet up on the opposite side. 'That should do.' She chuffed happily, inspecting her work.
Heather and Einfari rose from the ship and saw that the fighting on the other boats was ending. They flew towards the caves, hoping they could be in time to help.
Toothless pounced on the group of Berserkers loitering outside the cave, scattering them. He and Maour tore into them like twin tornados, one of claw and one of metal. There was no quarter given, and the Berserkers were quickly unconscious or worse. Neither Maour nor Toothless stopped for a second, moving into the cave, Maour first because he had ended up closer in the rushed confusion of the short and brutal fight. He ran in, thankful that it appeared breaking the link hadn't somehow reset the abilities he had gained. This would be a horrible time to be unable to see in the dark. As he moved into the cave, he heard a scream that sounded like-
Maour turned a corner just in time to see Astrid raise her ax over Shield's unprotected neck, grinning maniacally. The scene was framed by a flickering torch discarded in a corner, casting Astrid's face in a fluctuating orange glow.
Maour leaped and swung his scythe, knocking the ax aside and colliding with Astrid. The force of his charge knocked them both over Shield's unconscious body, landing on the cave floor beyond him. They rolled, Astrid, ending up on top of Maour from the side.
Astrid said nothing, simply raising her ax and swinging to decapitate Maour. Maour shifted at the last second, pulling the scythe in. As the ax embedded itself in the stone, he kneed Astrid in the stomach, knocking her off slightly. Enough for him to pull away and get up. He didn't give her time to recover, slamming the blunt middle of the pole into her forehead with both hands.
Astrid staggered back, before swinging yet again at Maour's head, a red welt forming across her forehead.
Maour stepped forward, blocking with the pole. He kicked Astrid in the knee, causing her to stumble, and then wrenched the scythe to the side, the blade cutting into her shoulder pauldron and cutting some of her hair against the pauldron in the process.
Astrid took another step back, almost against Shield's unconscious body now. She sneered, jabbing the ax forward in a stabbing fashion, the middle of the blade hitting the scythe, and the curved tops digging into Maour's armor.
Maour grinned. "My family protects me, and I protect them."
"Not quite." Astrid swung her ax behind her, cutting into Shield's back. She laughed at Maour's horrified expression, taking a small step back to twist the blade in the wound cruelly.
Toothless at this point finally had a clear shot. He hit Astrid with a small plasma blast, right between the shoulder blades. The force of the impact knocked her into the cave wall, inches from Maour.
Maour was in too tight quarters to swing his scythe. So, he slammed the scythe handle into Astrid's face again, hitting and from the sound breaking her nose. He noticed at that moment that she still had her ax, right before she swung it up, cutting under the overlapped scales and gashing his side, though not deep. Maour jerked away from her, gasping in pain.
There was a second of respite, both combatants recovering from the shock of their sudden injuries.
'Maour, move!' Toothless was frantic. There was nothing between Astrid and the central cave if she decided to just turn and run, and neither of them knew what was going on at Von's end of the cave. There might be just as many Berserkers there, fighting to get through. But Maour was blocking his shot.
Astrid wiped the blood trickling from her nose. "You fight like an animal. Fast, dirty, and cheap." She swung her ax around suddenly, aiming for Maour's legs in a downward arc.
Maour punched her in the face, sidestepping the swing. He had seen it coming because Astrid had glanced at his legs before attacking. "And you fight like a Viking. No subtlety whatsoever." He concentrated on reading Astrid's hateful, blood-dripping face. Now he could see as her eyes flickered to his chest before she swung at him. He stepped back, bringing the scythe around in the cramped space to swing- and then instead jabbing forward, cutting Astrid's hand, which made her drop the ax. He pressed the advantage, quickly hitting her in the face again, being sure to target the already broken nose. He was relying on the pain to blind her.
Astrid tried to fight back with her hands, but she was even now signaling everything unintentionally with her eyes. She didn't seem to realize it.
And so Maour pressed forward, repeatedly hitting Astrid every time she moved back, barely avoiding her jabs and kicks. He was hoping she tripped. He couldn't let this up for a moment, lest she grab something else, like a knife from her belt. He could see she had several. So he didn't give her a chance to get to them. And he couldn't end this, because while the cave was high, it was just a little too narrow to swing his scythe in. The other end would hit a wall and it wouldn't work.
Finally, Astrid tripped and fell on her back.
Maour quickly stepped forward and put the scythe's blade to her throat, standing over her. "You lose."
Astrid sneered. "Not quite." She whipped out a dagger she had grabbed under the pretense of falling and stabbed Maour in the foot, straight through the top of his left boot. She rolled away as Maour sunk to his knees, eyes wide in pain.
Toothless screeched as Astrid scrambled up, pulling out another dagger. He leaped over Shield and rushed to Maour, unable to pass his brother.
Maour was kneeling in pain, hands on his shoe. The dagger had gone almost all of the way through his foot. It was excruciatingly painful.
Astrid took in the scene for a split second. Then she turned the corner and entered the central cavern that was right behind her.
Astrid's nose was horribly broken, he stomach hurt, her head was pounding, and her knee felt odd. She wasn't sure what exactly was wrong or broken there but walking hurt. She limped into a larger cavern, unable to see much. But then she saw a light in the corner. A torch? Odd, she could have sworn she had dropped her own torch in the passageway behind her. She beheld a sight she had long wanted to see. A Night Fury curled around two eggs, growling at her. Astrid didn't stop to consider that the dragon would attack her, or that there might be other dragons around. This was her moment of triumph!
And then someone- not something, someone- grabbed her hand, trapping to knife she held in a much larger and stronger grip.
Gobber looked her in the eyes, his own ice cold. "This is for Stoick." Then he stabbed her through the chest with a long blade that was in the place of his normal hook prosthetic.
Gobber withdrew his knife prosthetic as Astrid crumpled slowly, the demented light leaving her eyes for good. He looked down at her and sighed. Then he looked over his shoulder. He could see the dragon with two eggs, two dragons forming a living shield around the smallest Night Fury he had ever seen, and one more, covering the eyes of a small Fury with his wings. He shook his head. "Sorry abou' tha', but it 'ad to be done."
After a moment, the dragon with the eggs nodded, staring at him. It pointedly looked at Astrid, and then where she had come from.
Gobber gave a start. "Right! There might be more o' them. I'll jus' go check. And I'll, er..." He looked down. "I'll take 'er with me, I guess." No reason to leave the body in this place of safety and security.
Besides, he had heard sounds of fighting from the cave she had come from. He wondered what had happened in there. Astrid had definitely not been in the best health when he ambushed her, but there hadn't been any-
Gobber froze as Maour limped into the cave, eyes cold and scythe bloody. He was carrying the scythe in one hand, and a knife dripping with blood in the other. "Oy, Maour!" Gobber grinned. "I take it there aren't any more Berserkers on that side then. Good." He looked down at Astrid's body. "I wasn't sure how I was going to explain this one."
Maour took a moment just to stare. Then he dropped the knife and scythe, sitting down heavily. He looked back, where Toothless had entered the central cavern behind him. Then he looked at Gobber.
"Well, I remembered wha' ye said abou' this place, and decided ta take the back entrance. Ran into one o' yer pals, but they recognized my name, and I convinced 'em to let me through into here. I figured ye could use the extra help." Gobber smiled darkly. "If anyone was gonna make it here, it would be Astrid."
Now Maour spoke. "Thank you. But was this protection, or revenge?" He waved at the scene.
"Both. I didn't end up havin' to choose one or the other." Gobber glanced at Maour. "But I'm not done. Is the battle over?"
"Close enough. We won, if barely." Maour began taking a boot off, wincing as he did.
"Well then. I'll be off to my next job." Gobber's voice was angry. "Time to settle the rest o' the score. Back on Berk."
Maour sighed, staring at his old mentor. "A true Viking quality, revenge. What will you do if you succeed? Take over as chief?"
"Nah, I'll just leave and set up shop somewhere. Berk can figure out its own problems. I'm just doing 'em the favor of removin' a spineless idiot from the position o' chief."
"Well, I can't stop you. When you do look for somewhere to settle, I suggest Mahelmetan. Nice place, plenty of business, and a few neighbors you already know." Maour finally got the boot off, eyeing the bloody wound on both the top and bottom of his foot. "Well, this isn't the greatest."
Gobber eyed Maour's foot. "How did ye manage tha'?"
"I fell for an old trick. She faked tripping to get to a knife, and stabbed me as I moved to take advantage." Maour smiled as Toothless moved over and began licking both sides of his foot.
Gobber stared. "Should 'e be doin' that?"
"Yes. It helps numb pain and keeps the wound clean." Maour grimaced. "Even if it does involve him licking my feet. I probably owe him a favor after this."
'You do. Wash your feet more often. They taste terrible.' Toothless spit the blood and dirt out of his mouth every few licks.
"Oh, that reminds me. Before you go, Gobber." Maour looked around. "The dragon with the eggs is Cloey, the one with the little Fury is Shadow, and Von must have been the one that found you. So now you've met the rest of my family."
Gobber nodded in their direction. "nice ta meet you. Sorry abou', ya know..." Gobber waved at the body.
Shadow snorted. 'We would have done it ourselves if you didn't. Don't apologize.'
Maour translated, and Gobber laughed. "Fair enough." He looked over at Maour. "Astrid brought abou' forty soldiers with 'er. Did ya get em all?"
"No." Maour tried and failed to stand, falling back. "We need to take care of them before they spread out too much."
Cloey eyed Toothless. 'Son, are you okay? You've been fairly quiet.'
'I'm... fine.' Toothless was, in the absence of any immediate concern, beginning to think about what had happened.
'Good. Take over here.' Cloey's tone was soft but brooked no argument. She unwrapped herself from around the eggs and moved aside.
Toothless quickly took her place, groaning as he finally relaxed overworked and stressed muscles, fully settling down.
Cloey purred, before turning to the exit. 'I'm going to check on Von. Then, I'm going to gather a few Furies, and we'll hunt down the rest of the Berserkers.' Her voice was cold. 'My turn to fight for our home.'
Maour nodded. "Oh, and drag Shield in here. Astrid took him down, and we only just stopped her from taking his head off."
Gobber heard that with a grimace. "I assume that would be the guard at the other end?" He stumped off towards that side. "I'll make sure no one passes from there." He disappeared into the passageway. A few minutes later, they heard him cursing as he tried to climb past Shield without hurting him.
Eldurský and Eldurfjall, along with the tiny hatchling Maour assumed must be Vartha, carefully and slowly moved into a side cavern, Eldurský carrying Vartha in possibly the strangest way Maour could have ever imagined. The tiny hatchling was so small Eldurský could carry her in her mouth, teeth sheathed and jaws wide. They were soon ensconced in a side cave.
Shadow led Nótthljóður down another side passage. He didn't want the little Fury to see her brother wounded and unconscious. He got her to follow by promising to take her to Shield as soon as he woke up.
Maour and Toothless were relatively alone, and they couldn't go anywhere. Maour couldn't even walk, and Toothless had to stay with the eggs. Maour painstakingly removed the torso portion of his flight suit and sighed in relief when he saw the ax hadn't cut at all deep. That injury had already stopped bleeding. He scooted over and leaned against Toothless's back.
They sat there in silence until Cloey had come and gone, bringing the unconscious form of Shield with her and leaving him in the cave.
Then Maour broke the silence. "Nothing has changed."
'Everything has.' Toothless whined. 'We killed the Queen. But it turns out I'm just as bad.'
"Stop it." Maour wanted to turn and look at his brother, but turning would aggravate the ax cut. "You are not. Tell me, what did you do that was so horrible, exactly?" His voice was prompting.
'I took control of you! Just like the Queen did! No one should ever be able to do that, but I did it to my own brother.'
"Yes, but what did you do? You saved my life. And as soon as you realized how you had done it, you panicked, trying to get rid of that power." Maour's voice was soft. "Thank you. I don't care how you did it, and if we could go back, I'd be fine with you doing it again. Not that I liked that particular sensation." It had been overwhelmingly strange, to lose control of himself like that, however briefly. "It doesn't matter what you're capable of, only what you choose to do."
Toothless lowered his head. 'I never want to do that again. But it was like a reflex. I didn't even try!'
Maour smiled. "I have a theory. I know you hate it, but please try to take control of me again, right now. Try as hard as you can."
'What?!'
"Toothless, trust me. I need you to try." Maour felt his brother crane his neck to look at him.
There was silence for a few moments. Finally Toothless spoke, relief overpowering every other emotion in his voice. 'I can't. No matter how hard I try.'
"And that, brother, is exactly what I thought was going to happen." Maour began counting off on his fingers, elaborating. "Your firepower returning, the weird glow, and the mind control. All happened only while you were in, well, let's call it Alpha mode. And you aren't right now. So I bet you can only do that stuff while in that state. So you don't have to worry."
'And... I don't even know how to do it again.' Toothless was wracking his brain, trying to figure this out. 'I really don't. It didn't feel like I did anything.' He purred. 'Good. I don't want that power, ever again. The fire was useful, but it isn't worth the other ability.' He shuddered.
Maour privately thought Toothless was overreacting a bit. But then, he wasn't the one with the apparently dormant ability to mind control and take over other people at will. He wasn't sure if he'd be comfortable with it either, and Toothless had far too much experience being on the other end of that particular set of abilities.
'Wait.' Toothless's voice was confused, and a little fearful. 'I thought we needed to be making eye contact as well as physical contact to rebuild the link!'
Maour was abruptly shocked back to total alertness with that. "We do. Or, we did." That was what had been bothering him about the moment in Shield's clearing. Toothless had rebuilt the link. With his eyes closed. Even the Queen had needed to make eye contact to take over dragons. And Toothless hadn't even been in alpha mode at the time. "Hmm... Toothless, when we were on Dagur's ship... was the link totally gone, or was there something left behind?"
'There was something. I don't know what it was, but it was there. For you too?'
"Yes. Maybe our link is stronger now that you've gone alpha at least once." It was the only explanation Maour could think of. The implications were interesting. Did Toothless even need physical contact to rebuild it now? The Queen didn't. And if he didn't need physical or eye contact...
Maour put that line of questioning aside. Hopefully, they would never have a reason to test that theory. With all of the pressing questions answered, he felt exhaustion finally overtake him.
'Maour?' Toothless looked over again and saw that his brother was asleep. 'Oh.' He huddled a little closer to the eggs. He wasn't that tired, just worn out. He would stay alert, and watch over his siblings, old and new. He hoped Von was okay, but Cloey would have said if she wasn't. All was well. The war was over.
Reason for Removal: Same as before, so many issues I don't even want to list them. Again, an entire chapter here, taken directly from my first draft. Please, avert your eyes from my shame. The best I can say is that some of the fighting holds up.
Closing the Circle (Chapter 29)
Heather and Einfari landed silently on the sea stack. The other riders were the only ones there. It was the sea stack they had stored the Berserker boats at. There was only one left now, and it was floating a few yards away, untethered, slowly drifting. She avoided looking at the lump in the middle of the boat. It had been a few days before they had time to do this, and, well...
She handed out what she had been assigned to bring. Each rider took a bow and a single arrow. It was near midnight, and the full moon illuminated Maour as he and Toothless took a step forward, looking out over the ship and its cargo.
Maour began to speak. "I won't be saying any of the usual things about Odin's great battlefield and some table of kings. She doesn't deserve any of that. But... somehow, I can't find it in myself to hate her. We were all like her at one point. Most of us even envied her, strived to be more like the perfect warrior-in-training she was back then. Am I the only one who sees myself in what she became? Sure, she had a little help from the craziness, but this was what we all wanted to be. The perfect Viking, the perfect dragon-killer. Astrid. You were the best of our generation, at least at that. But being the best at something horrible isn't a good thing."
Maour held the arrow in front of Toothless, and his brother lit it. He watched as the other teens lit theirs. "And so, we're giving her a proper Viking funeral, even though she doesn't deserve it. Because that would have been all of us if things turned out differently." He aimed. "Goodbye, Astrid. Maybe in another world, things could have been different." He fired, and the teens behind him did the same.
They watched in silence as the boat went up in flames and slowly sank once the fire had weakened the wood by the waterline enough. It was a slow process, but no one left. There were no tears shed, but they all felt some measure of guilt or sadness.
Once the ship had disappeared, the twins left immediately with Blast and Boom. Fishlegs and Berg soon followed.
Heather, however, wasn't sure she should leave Maour alone here, not counting Toothless of course. She sat down on the edge of the sea stack and started talking. "I didn't know her at all before everything happened. What was she like back then?" She was genuinely curious, and now seemed the best time she would ever have to ask. She felt Einfari settle down behind her.
Maour sat a few feet away, looking at the ocean. "Driven, practical, and well... happy. I didn't really see that at the time, but before dragon training, before all of that, she was happy. She knew where she was going, what she was preparing for, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would succeed if she pushed herself hard enough." He laughed bitterly. "I had a huge crush on her, but I didn't really ever even talk to her. Sharpening her ax in the forge was the closest I ever got to a conversation with her. One time, I even broke her ax blade by accident, I was so distracted." He laughed.
"What did she do?"
"Oh, I distracted her and replaced the blade before she noticed. She never paid much attention to me, so it wasn't that hard." His voice became sad. "Then dragon training started, and from the first day, she had a new reason to despise me. Of course, at the time she had no idea what was going on outside the arena, in the forest. All she saw was me taking her perfect future away, without even really trying." He looked to where her ship had sunk. "I don't think I'll ever know exactly what drove her crazy. Maybe it was me, or maybe it was just the stress she was putting herself through. Or maybe it would have happened anyway, and it was just a coincidence she started cracking during training."
Toothless huffed. 'It wasn't your fault, and I will throw you off of this sea stack if you say otherwise. Einfari can fish you out.' His tone was gentle, belying his words.
"Fine, fine. I know that. And I don't think I would have done anything differently."
Heather considered what Maour had said. "That must have been pretty rough, finding out you life-long crush was crazy."
Maour scowled. "I stopped liking her before that. When she cut a stunned Terror in half in the arena, for no reason. That was what did it. Finding out my life-long crush was a cold-blooded killer. The craziness was just extra deterrent."
Heather winced. "Yikes."
"Yeah, that was bad. And I swore, if I ever found someone I liked, I would walk away if they could kill in cold blood, or couldn't be shown the truth about dragons." His voice was almost cautious now. "I wasn't going to make that mistake a second time."
Heather looked at him. "Have you? Ever found anyone, I mean."
Maour blushed. "Maybe. I wasn't going to say anything until after I saw if you fit those qualities. The second was never in question..."
"But the first was." Heather smiled at him. "And I'd say I passed."
"Yes. But I don't want to rush anything, or-"
Heather cut him off. "Neither do I. Let's just see how things go, okay? Besides, you're going to be pretty busy for a few years, remember? I'm in the same boat as you, metaphorically speaking. I have three viable choices at the moment. You, Fishlegs, and Tuffnut. Tuffnut really isn't my type, and Fishlegs... maybe, in another life. But not this one. So I'm fine with getting to know you better. We do have time."
Maour nodded. "Okay. Friends, for now? Pending some time that doesn't involve maniacs and wars?"
Heather smiled. "Friends. But I think that time will pass quickly." She slid a little closer. Then she looked back. "Don't give me that look Einfari. We both know you approve."
Einfari rumbled in amusement, swatting at Heather with her tail. She looked over at Toothless. 'By the way, have the eggs started shaking yet? It's been long enough.'
Toothless shook his head. 'Not yet. Any day now though, according to Cloey.'
A few days later, the recovery and cleanup was over. This was the day the Bog-Burglars, Meatheads, and Waxears departed. The three chiefs were standing on the beach, their flagships rising on the tide.
Heather and Maour met them there, along with Toothless. Einfari was circling overhead, taking in the sight. Heather smiled as she saw Camicazi next to Bertha. She walked forward. "Camicazi. I got you something from Dagur." She tossed her friend two well-made Berserker daggers. "He had like fifteen, but I figured two were enough."
Camicazi grinned. "Thanks. Speaking of which, where is the lunatic and his lackey?"
Mogadon grunted. "We're taking Dagur. The Berserkers can try to pay a ransom for Savage if they want him, but Dagur is going to rot in prison. That's the hazard of declaring all-out war on the allies of the Meatheads!" He waved his ax triumphantly.
Maour grinned. "Don't get too confident, Mogadon. Dagur is crafty. Keep a close eye on him, even in a cell." He decided Mogadon could use some deflating. "And by the way, I'm thinking of making Heather our official envoy to the Bog-Burglars and Fishlegs to the Waxears. So, that leaves you with the twins."
Mogadon paled. "That feels like a threat."
"Nope. Just an idea. Besides, hopefully, they won't need to be around much anyway. Peace is what we want, and there's no reason for them to be on your island if nothing is going on." That was a very subtle hint. Don't provoke anyone out of overconfidence.
Mogadon nodded. "Very well."
Smith stepped forward, shaking Maour's hand. "It has been an honor to fight by your side. To fight by all of your sides." He looked at the other chiefs. "Let's hope we have no need to do it again anytime soon." He looked at Maour. "And Maour. Thank you for your advice on Skrill." There was far more to that seemingly innocent statement than appeared on the surface.
Maour grimaced, hating himself for a moment, before snapping out of it. Smith had promised, and he knew it was necessary. But the crate heavily locked inside one of Smith's ships was not something he could easily condone. He had scrambled to get the necessary pieces together before the Waxears left, hating himself the entire time.
'Stop it. It was a good decision.' Toothless didn't want to embarrass his brother in public, but if he had too...
"You're welcome. But be sure to use it wisely."
Smith nodded seriously. "I will. I am a friend of dragons in general. But any raiding Skrill trying to wipe us out are an exception I have to make."
"I understand. Safe travels, all of you. Until we meet again." Maour shook the hands of the other chiefs and watched from the beach as they departed. The first humans to leave the Isle of Night with full understanding of what was really there, where it was, and with no personal ties to its inhabitants. He wasn't worried. He had always known it would happen. This was pretty much the best-case scenario.
A few nights later, Maour and Toothless were flying around the Isle, just to relax. Maour's foot had healed enough to allow him to work the pedal again, but he was pretty sure the fact that he couldn't move his two smaller toes on that foot anymore was a permanent change. The knife must have cut something important. Luckily, it didn't really impair his movement at all. He could still run and still fly. But it hadn't stopped hurting, which was why they were taking it slow for now.
Because of this Von easily caught up to them. She was purring loudly enough to be heard from the air. 'The eggs are cracking. It started half an hour ago. Mom sent me to get you. Hurry, before we miss it!'
Toothless barked happily and dove for the mountain, hitting top speed in seconds, Maour laughing all the way. His brother was so excited his tongue was flapping out of the side of his mouth. They swept past Von, Toothless laughing at her too. 'Try and keep up!'
They made it into the central cavern with plenty of time to spare. Shadow, Cloey, Toothless, Von, and Maour all gathered around the eggs, close to conserve warmth. They watched as one of the shells cracked again, a long and jagged line splitting down the middle.
'Other dragon eggs explode.' Cloey spoke softly. 'But for whatever reason, Night Furies aren't born with their fire. So they break them apart.'
The other, slightly smaller egg cracked, with a loud crunch. The eggs had apparently begun shaking at almost the same time, and now they were in a race. Which would break first?
Toothless warbled softly. 'This is cool.' He moved his head down to ground level, staring at an egg from a few feet away.
Shadow softly tapped his son. 'Don't do that. How would you feel if the first thing you saw was a massive eye two feet away?'
Toothless sat back up quickly. 'Sorry.'
Shadow laughed. 'It's fine. They'll get used to all of us quickly enough. There's a reason the entire family is usually present at hatching. Everyone the hatchling sees in the first few minutes, they trust absolutely from that point on.'
Maour personally wondered if that extended to humans. Hopefully, his Night Fury scent and scale clothing would help with that.
They sat there, waiting for the eggs to finally break open. It took a few more minutes, steady cracks appearing on the eggs, concentrated on one side for each egg.
Finally, the slightly smaller of the two eggs broke open, and from there a tiny, slimy Night Fury hatchling crawled forth. Less than ten seconds later, the other hatchling did the same. They met in the space between their eggs, nosing each other blindly and curiously.
Maour was amazed at how small they were. The eggs had been huge, compared to what had been growing inside. The hatchlings were no larger than Toothless's paw, not counting wings and tails. Their heads were the size of Maour's closed fist, oversized compared to the rest of their body.
The two hatchlings finished investigating each other, and Cloey moved over, clearing the slime off of their heads with her tongue. 'Open your eyes, little ones.' She smiled at her other children. 'We speak to them as often as possible. It helps them learn to talk.'
The smaller of the hatchlings opened its eyes. They were a pale green, almost frost green, a tinge of white streaking through the irises. It looked around, taking in the sight of four larger Furies, and one strange creature around it. It squeaked at the sight of Maour, nudging the other hatchling as it backed away. How did it know he was different? It shouldn't know… anything, at this point.
The other hatchling opened its eyes and glared comically at the smaller one. It had a vibrant shade of light green, like that of wet grass in the sun. It noticed Maour, and also took a step back.
Cloey saw the dismay on her adopted son's face. 'Speak to them, Maour. We know you also speak with your mind when you talk. It might reassure them.' She gently pushed the two hatchlings towards him, crooning softly.
"Uh, hi guys. Or girls. I really can't tell." Maour held out an arm for the now intrigued hatchlings to sniff. They both did so, comically revealing tiny, toothless mouths as they inhaled through nose and mouth at the same time.
The larger one chirped happily, nosing at Maour's hand. The other took heart from that, and they completed their investigation of their surroundings, climbing over paws and under lowered heads of all the Furies in turn. When they were done, the smaller one approached Cloey, while the larger one sniffed at Maour again, crawling over him.
Shadow purred loudly. 'The smaller one is a girl, the larger a boy. What should they be called?'
'Isn't that your choice, you and mom?' Von was confused.
'It is, but we're open to suggestions. You all put in an incredible amount of support for these two. It will be a group decision.' Shadow looked down at the boy hatchling, now curled up in Maour's lap, sleeping. 'And see, they trust all of us.'
Toothless warbled softly. 'It shouldn't be anything violent or negative.' He was thinking both of Shield, originally named Night Rage, and of the fact that they had just fought a war to protect these two. They deserved peace.
"And they should go together, both names. They hatched at the same time, their names should reflect that." Maour was thinking of the twins. Nothing like Ruffnut or Tuffnut, for sure, but this was as close to twins as Night Furies got, apparently. And even this was unheard of.
Cloey purred thoughtfully, nudging the female hatchling asleep between her paws. 'I like that. But we shouldn't ignore what happened to keep them safe, either. Shield, Von, Maour, Toothless, myself, Shadow, all the other Furies, and even three tribes of humans. All fought in part to keep them safe.'
Shadow laughed. 'I've got it. How about, Guardian and Protector? Guardian for the girl, and Protector for the boy. Something not inherently violent but still strong, matching names, and names of entirely positive meaning.'
'So, Svarturverndari for the boy. Black Protector. and Svarturforráðamaður for the girl. Black Guardian.' Cloey looked down. 'Long names, but good ones. Do you all like those?'
Toothless and Von nodded in assent. Maour smiled. "Yes. Although Svarturforráðamaður really is a bit long."
Von nudged him, careful not to disturb Svaturverndari. 'That's what short names are for, silly. How about Fora and Dari?'
Shadow nodded approvingly. 'Good. But don't start using those until they learn to respond to their full names. They need to know those first. It shouldn't take long at all. Hatchlings learn to understand our speech very fast. Speaking themselves takes much longer. And we'll be here to watch it all happen.' Shadow purred. 'Something I missed with Toothless. And Maour, though for a very different reason.' He grinned.
"Yeah, believe me, I'm pretty sure human babies are much less fun to be around. These guys aren't making any trouble at all."
Cloey laughed knowingly at that. 'No, that comes later. Between ages three and twelve, usually. So enjoy that while it lasts. The first three years, they're too small, easily-chilled, and weak to do much.' She noticed the hatchlings stirring in their sleep. 'Actually, they're getting cold as we speak.' She carefully lowered herself down, placing her head on top of her paws, creating a small hollow just big enough for the hatchling. 'Maour, you can try to keep Svarturverndari warm. We should see if you can do it. Hand him off to Toothless if he doesn't stop shivering.'
Maour considered the problem. "Hmm..." The hatchling was on his lap, sprawled out. He carefully shifted the tiny dragon so that it was curled up. But he really didn't think he could keep it warm enough. "Here, Toothless. I'll try to figure it out, but right now I don't want to experiment with this."
Toothless huffed sadly, taking the hatchling and copying Cloey. 'You'll figure it out. Or invent something to help. I know you can.'
Von purred, standing as Shadow did. 'Come on Maour, let's go get some fish. That can be your part today.' She was serious. Maour had perfected the technique of leaning out of the saddle while they fished, spearing a couple with his scythe. He actually could bring some in.
Maour grinned. "I'll get your saddle." Over the years, he had made saddles for all of the Svarturs, as a precaution in case they ever needed one.
Von nodded. 'Yes, so I don't have to fly slowly and carefully.' Her voice was humorous.
"Oh come on, you know I can hold on bareback better than anyone! It's a valuable skill!" Maour returned bearing the saddle, and quickly put it on Von's back, securing the straps.
Before they left, Maour glanced at Toothless and Cloey. "We'll be back in a few minutes." He eyed Toothless. "You good?"
Toothless purred happily. 'Yes, I am. We both are.' He was looking forward to the next few years. Watching his little sister and brother grow, learn to talk, and everything else. Eventually, teaching them to fly, and use their fire as they came of age for those things. Teaching them how to fish, hunt, and fight, just in case. And teaching them that while most humans were dangerous, there were plenty of good ones. You just need to know where to look. Or have an amazing human brother who excels at changing minds and hearts. They could do and would have both.
He was also looking forward to the stories his family could tell their newest members when they were old enough to hear them. He wondered what it would be like for them, growing up with a human older brother, not really knowing just how strange that should be to them. He envied them that. His childhood at the nest had been as good as Cloey could make it. Not very, despite her best efforts. But his little brother and sister would have so much better. They had each other, an entire family, and a good home. One that he and Maour had risked their lives to protect, and killed for. And, at least to his mind, he had done something even worse.
Other dragons might consider that alpha state a gift, a miracle, or even their rightful power. He did not. If he had his way, he would never use it again. Other Furies had asked what he had done, glowing blue and firing limitlessly. He had told the truth. He had no idea how it was achieved. He didn't tell them that he didn't want to know how to get it back. It had saved their island, but it had also threatened to make him into the very thing he hated above all else. An enslaver, one who controlled others. That power was evil. And even if it was part of him, he would choose not to use it.
Yes, he hoped he would never do whatever that was again. But in the back of his head, something told him it wasn't over. He would face the evil ability within him once more, at some point in the future. Outside evils he could fight, destroy. How would he destroy something evil within himself?
He looked down at little Dari, and then looked over at Fora. He would manage it, somehow. With the help of Maour. Because the evil was there, lurking in his brain somewhere. But so was his brother. They would fight it together. Somehow. That very ability had in some unidentifiable way allowed him to take control of Maour. But it had also apparently strengthened their bond permanently in the process. That was an advantage he would use against it if he could. He would fight this, if it tried to change him, make him like the Queen. But hopefully, it would remain dormant. Ideally forever.
Maour, Von, and Shadow came back, laden with fish. Maour took out a knife and began dicing one of the fish, presumably for Dari and Fora. Usually, the parents would tear hunks off, but this was much quicker and easier.
Toothless watched as his brother helped feed their siblings, happy that Maour could indeed help in some ways, despite not being able to warm them. Maour would find ways to do everything he by all logic shouldn't be able to do, in time. Keep his siblings warm. Fly, at least in some way. Use fire. Toothless was confident of that. In time, all things were possible for his brother, and for himself as well.
Snotlout sighed at a knock on his door, echoing through the empty chief's hut. Life on Berk was hard nowadays, at least for him. He didn't regret getting rid of Astrid, handing her off to Dagur. But it meant he had to actually act as chief. He wasn't doing so well, at least so far. Too much subtlety and detail work.
He got up to answer the door. It was raining and dark outside. He had no idea who would even bother him at this hour, but it didn't matter. Someone was. It had been six months since he got rid of Astrid, and people still came to him complaining about random things.
"I don't care about any sheep dispute or argument, or-" Snotlout shut up when he noticed who it was. "Gobber?" There was fear in his voice now. Astrid had kept Gobber with her like a child with a favorite toy. And for some reason, Gobber had never objected.
Gobber smirked at him. "Calm down, Astrid ain't 'ere."
Snotlout hated that it was so obvious. "Then what is a Berserker doing on Berk without me knowing about it?"
Gobber shoved past him into the house, apparently taking that as an invitation to come inside. The old man wiped the rain off of his mostly bald head with his good hand. "I'd say it's great to be back, but this place decays more every time I look around." He seemed unaware of Snotlout's scowl, rambling on. "Not that Berserker island is any better. Alvin did a number on 'em, and Dagur is in Meathead prison. Apparently, declarin' war on five tribes at once was a pretty stupid idea."
Snotlout frowned, shutting the door and barring it again. "Where is Astrid?"
Gobber grinned. "Dead as a doornail. She did make it to the Isle of Night, in the end. Shed more o' her own blood there than anyone else's, dragon or human. Did a number on Maour's foot, and cut a few gashes into a Fury's back. That's abou' it, really."
Snotlout raised an eyebrow. "You mean Hiccup?"
Gobber slurred, apparently drunk. "Naa, I mean Maour. Hiccup's gone. He's Maour now, and that boy can fight, 'pparently! Smashed Astrid's nose pretty good, from what I saw. Led the alliance in destroyin' Dagur's entire Armada, 'e did."
Snotlout shivered. Hiccup had apparently killed Astrid and trashed an entire armada. That wasn't good. He had been counting on Dagur to remove Hiccup without help. It should have been easy! "That doesn't make sense."
Gobber leered, sitting down unsteadily. "I never doubted the boy 'ad some o' Stoick's blood in 'im. That o' a leader. It shows, now at least." He took an ax off the wall, one Snotlout had never gotten around to removing. The old man looked down at it. "This was Stoick's ax. He used it the day he killed a Nightmare in the arena." He looked up at Snotlout, still quite drunk by all appearances. "Why'd ya kill 'im? He was a great chief. Ya couldn'a jus' waited?" His voice was sad.
Snotlout paled. "How did you know about that?" He had been sure no one knew.
"Ach, come on! I checked the body, idiot! Stab wounds to the back are pretty 'ard to miss!" Gobber sounded annoyed now.
Snotlout didn't actually feel at all threatened by the angry, old, weak, limbless blacksmith who was clearly drunk out of his mind. Even if he held an ax. He was just annoyed now. "Astrid was pressuring me! I didn't want to wait, so she didn't exactly have a hard time convincing me either! Stoick was going soft anyway."
Gobber grimaced. "So it wasn't jes' Astrid. Ye did it willingly, goin' along with 'er." His voice was suddenly entirely sober, and his eyes lost their dazed and unfocused expression. "As I thought."
Snotlout grabbed for his sword and hefted it menacingly. "So?"
Gobber laughed. "I came 'ere to kill you, Snotlout, to finish avenging Stoick. But now that I see you, I don't want to anymore. You were jus' the spineless accomplice." He hefted the ax. "So I'll be takin' this, and leaving peacefully. Unless you try to stop me."
"Is anything you just said true?" Snotlout was entirely unnerved by Gobber's apparently amazing acting skills. The old man had dropped the act now, and the change was terrifying. From a sad, drunk old has-been to an experienced and cold Viking warrior, all in an instant. So, even as he asked that question, he stepped away from the door.
"Yes, all of it. By the way, I killed Astrid myself." Gobber leered at Snotlout. "Be glad you're so worthless I'm not bothering with you." He walked to the door and snapped the bolt clean off. "Stoick never used this thing. It suits you though." He stepped out into the rain-swept night, taking Stoick's ax with him.
Gobber walked through the village, headed to the small boat he had used to get here. He knew where he was going next. His work was done. Time for a nice retirement. Of course, to him, that meant being a blacksmith again. He had been told of a great place for just that. Maour didn't need him. The boy had plenty of support. He didn't really need a tired old warrior hanging around.
He got into the boat and began rowing. He knew where he was going. At the chiefly meeting, he had spoken at length with many of the Rockbreakers. That was a place he thought he'd like. An island of Blacksmiths and Miners. He'd be in good company. He was done with all of this. For now, anyway. Maybe if Maour needed real help in the future, an old and tired warrior would switch his forge hammer out for a war hammer. But for now, he would disappear. Let the relics of the past go. It was a new day and a new world. One Gobber didn't fully understand or embrace. But it was a better one. He was sure of that.
Reason for Removal: Again, this is a whole chapter, the last non-epilogue chapter in the story. Not to mention that it was tone-deaf, incorrect in the timeline of the final product (as you can see, the eggs are only now hatching), and all sorts of other problems. A nice look at Gobber going back to Berk, though.
Roaring and Rocks (Chapter 42)
The next morning began with a trumpeted wake-up call courtesy of the twins and the Myrkur siblings, the combined cacophony of a Viking horns and two roaring Night Furies more than enough to annoy everyone awake, especially when they began trying and failing to carry a tune together.
'I know humor before the battle is supposed to relieve tension,' Toothless grumbled to Cloey, 'but this is just aggravating.'
'Let the Myrkurs have their fun,' Cloey advised. 'So long as it makes them better, more eager fighters where it matters. I would listen to these horrors all day to get an edge over the enemy.' Her ears twitched as a particularly high-pitched roar echoed through the cavern, followed by a blast of the horn.
"You can do that," Maour said, holding his hands to his ears as they flew, "but I definitely won't."
'Do not scold them,' Cloey advised as they neared the top of the mountain and caught sight of the noisy Myrkurs. 'It will do nothing for us now.'
'Got it,' Toothless conceded. His mother was giving a lot of advice recently, and he intended to listen to her on all of it. She would know; she had been through far more of the Queen's wars than he had. She knew more about fighting – specifically fighting humans – than he did.
All of which made it more than a little discomforting that she was sitting back and letting him and Maour take charge. He would be happier following her lead, not listening to her helpful advice and then trying to convey it without sounding as if he was just echoing her roars, so to speak.
"Look at that," Maour breathed as they gained height. Toothless knew what he was talking about; the panorama laid out in front of them made him feel strange, too.
On the one paw, there was the learned horror of seeing dozens of Viking warships floating a distance off the shore, looming menacingly. Two dozen in total, a number that would be intimidating, were they enemies.
In a way, it was worse to know that those twenty-four ships were their allies. It made the otherwise intimidating force seem small and inadequate against the looming mass of ships on the horizon.
On the other paw, seeing any ships arrayed in defense of the island was encouraging; Toothless could easily envision facing this assault without help, just thirteen Night Furies and five riders against the massive Berserker Armada. They would have fled, maybe after doing a little damage just to spite the Berserkers, and the Isle would be burned to the ground. They'd be on the run again.
They might still be on the run again by the end of the day. It wasn't out of the question; two dozen ally warships against sixty Berserker warships was not an easy fight. It might not even be possible; they were relying on a lot of different things going right.
Another discordant blast of sound tore through the air, and Toothless winced. 'If we were fighting each other, I would like that noise,' he said.
"There's an idea," Maour agreed speculatively. "Remind me about that later. I'm thinking a small, compact Viking horn to disorient hostile dragons."
'Do not look forward to the next fight when this one has yet to start,' Cloey advised. 'Also, wouldn't that disable Kappi just as thoroughly?'
'It could still be useful if I'm not around,' Toothless countered, banking to take advantage of a gust of wind. He could see the flat mountain top below, and the many Night Furies arrayed there, standing wherever they had room.
"Get down here, mighty leaders!" Tuffnut yelled, beckoning them down.
'Or he will hurt our ears again,' Boom added. 'Come quickly, my head is already spinning.'
'Your own fault for letting them have a horn,' Toothless admonished. 'Everyone ready?'
"We don't have enough boulders," Fishlegs fretted.
"We have plenty," Maour said, waving an arm at the dozens of irregularly-shaped chunks of rock littering the usually flat mountaintop. "Some of those look too big to lift. How did you get them up here?"
'Those are mine,' Berg explained. 'So long as I am not carrying Fishlegs at the same time, I can take them.'
'Be careful not to overburden yourself,' Toothless said, eyeing the substantially larger trio of rocks that Berg was claiming he could lift. Each was almost the size of Fishlegs, and rock was substantially heavier than human. The rest of the rocks were far more in line with Maour, or the twins, maybe half the weight.
'That is why I only have three,' Berg agreed. 'Why we all only have three each. We need to be able to fly and fight after this.'
"Yes," Ruffnut groaned, "that's the plan, and can everyone please stop going over it with every waking moment? What, you think we'll forget?"
'Let's just do this,' Myrkurheili suggested, pouncing on one of the smaller rocks and clutching it with all four paws.
'Take off hard,' Toothless warned. 'That's the hardest part.'
'Like I'm fleeing my dear Skarpy,' Myrkurheili quipped.
'If we were not on the brink of battle I'd kill you,' Skarpur snarled.
'That's why I said it!' Myrkurheili chortled, launching himself into the air. He grunted loudly at the weight of the stone, but suffered no apparent difficulty with carrying it, and was soon on his way.
'I'm going to rip his tongue out once this is over,' Skarpur hissed to Einfari, grabbing her own rock. 'Skarpy? He could not have come up with a more aggravating name if he had tried!'
'He was trying,' Boom explained as she got a grip on her rock. 'That was the worst he could come up with.'
Toothless snorted in amusement and busied himself with picking out the smallest boulder available. The watchful eye of his mother ensured he looked specifically for size; she and Maour had been insistent that he take the lightest possible load, being the only one who would have to carry both a rider and a rock.
A small, oval-shaped lump the size of Maour's torso in his paws, Toothless spread his wings and shoved down. There was a trick to taking off with an unwieldy weight, using the base of one's tail to shove down on the leap upward, but even with that he barely managed to remain in the air past the first flap.
"You got it?" Maour asked.
'Got it,' Toothless grunted. His claws were trembling, and he tried to hug the rock closer to his stomach. Hooking his paws under its bulk helped, but he wasn't used to carrying so much weight.
"Nice," Maour complimented him. "This opens up a whole world of opportunities."
'Dropping rocks?' Toothless grunted, thankful for the distraction. He wasn't worried about dropping the rock before he reached the enemy fleet, but it would be a short while, and anything to take his mind off the strain on his wings and paws was a good thing.
"No, I'm saying we can make some cool stuff to strap to the saddle, since you can handle the weight," Maour suggested. "Maybe a grappling hook that goes against your saddle."
'Why would we ever need that?' Toothless groused, getting caught up in the horrible idea Maour was suggesting. 'I fly, you know. If you attached me to the ground or anything else with a hook and line, it would make me crash. We would wind up only using it once, for some ridiculously unlikely situation.'
"True…" Maour leaned over the saddle. "There goes the fleet," he said sombrely.
Sure enough, their allies were setting out, swarming over their ships and dropping sails. The first rock-dropping run was the agreed-upon signal to send out the fleet; the difference in speed between dragons and ships would ensure the two fleets didn't make contact for a while yet, giving the dragons time to rest, but engaging the Berserkers a good distance from the Isle.
A faint cheer could be heard, carried up on a convenient updraft. Toothless happily rode the upward push for as long as it lasted. This whole rock-dropping run was a balance; they might not even get through all of the rocks they had ready. Everyone would need to be in fighting shape for the actual battle that followed.
Toothless settled into a steady, shallow upward climb for a short while, until he felt he was at a safe height, and then went up more just to be sure. When he leveled out, he noticed that everyone who could see him had followed, and was now flying at the same height.
He shrugged off the unease that came from leading. It was just a strange, temporary thing, probably the result of the pack not having an actual alpha. In times where there needed to be one leader, they just picked whoever they thought good for the position. It would probably have been Togi if he wasn't injured. It wasn't a big deal.
Not a big deal, just everyone following his lead and therefore making it his choices that decided the outcome of this battle, the fate of their home. No pressure.
'Why can't they just follow mom?' he muttered.
"She doesn't want to be in charge," Maour replied, seeming to understand what Toothless meant without needing it explained. "That's why all of the riders look to me. The twins want to mess around, Fishlegs likes doing his own thing and helping out, and Heather isn't really comfortable taking charge yet."
'Everyone wants somebody to know what to do, and nobody wants to be that person,' Toothless mused. He understood that; he didn't want to be that person either. At least it was only for this battle. Nobody was trying to declare him alpha.
Strangely, that thought reassured him. It was just for now. They wanted someone who knew what to do, and he did, at least here. He didn't even have to come up with a plan; more qualified people had done that for him. He just had to make sure they carried it out.
'We're coming up on them,' Myrkurheili called back. He was far ahead of the rest of them, with Skarpur a close second. If Toothless didn't know better, he would suspect Myrkurheili really was fleeing Skarpur.
'Drop when you are ready,' Toothless roared, 'and try not to hit the same ship!' Everyone was usually pretty good about picking individual targets, because there were so many to choose from, but he felt he needed to give that reminder lest the burden of bearing such heavy rocks encourage everyone to dump theirs at the first viable target.
The pack, already somewhat spread out, spread even more as they passed over the Berserker fleet. Dark mists popped up over some ships for a few moments, the only obvious sign of dozens of arrows at this distance. Two catapults fired, hitting nothing. There were no Furies even close to being in range, but the Berserkers tried anyway.
Arrows and catapult boulders couldn't reach, and at this distance even the strongest blasts wouldn't either, but that was what the rocks were for. Toothless flexed his claws, aimed carefully, and finally let go.
"Too soon!" Maour exclaimed as the boulder dropped.
'I never miss,' Toothless purred smugly as the oval rock smashed right through one of the ships, knocking a mast askew and disappearing into the deck. All across the fleet, thirteen ships experienced the effects of weight, free-fall, and Night Fury accuracy. Masts crumpled, wood shattered, and in one ship red blossomed around the hole left in the deck, a grim reminder that not all damage would be to wooden constructs.
"Okay, never mind," Maour corrected himself. "Perfectly on time. Doesn't look like that one's sinking, though."
'We still did damage,' Toothless huffed, turning in the air to head back to the Isle for another boulder. He could only see one ship that was obviously sinking, and quite rapidly at that. The rest were faltering, massively damaged but still operable.
'Mine destroyed them!' Berg crowed to everyone else. 'Mine is the sinking one.'
'It looks like ours aren't big enough to do that much damage,' one of the Eldurs pointed out.
'It probably depends on where they hit,' Cloey reasoned. 'Mine struck a sail and was slowed down so much it barely broke through anything else. We shouldn't aim for those next time.'
'Next time,' Toothless repeated hopefully. They hadn't done much damage, but there were two more runs to go.
Reason for Removal: There were several good jokes in here, but it was the weakest part of an important chapter, so when my Beta reader pointed out some of its failings, I revamped it. At least the jokes (and reference to another story in this fandom) can still be seen here!