AN: This chapter is turning out to be way longer than I had originally planned, so I'm splitting it into two.
AN 2: I have put up a new poll on my profile page - you may check it out.
Dragon picked up the cup. The color dice landed red-side-up, while the shape dice landed square-picture-up. Dragon looked at the wooden plates scattered on the floor between Raina and himself. Immediately, he located the red square and reached for it.
No sooner had Dragon's palm covered the plate that Raina started to cry.
Dragon flinched. He didn't like it when she did that.
"I didn't do anything!" he said defensively, as Raina's dad turned in their direction.
With a sigh, the man lifted himself from his post at the hearth and approached his crying daughter.
"Rain-na," he said, kneeling. "Soak-kay."
The girl wasted no time burying her face in his chest.
"It sucks. I know," he whispered, rubbing circles into her back. "Lo-sing a geh-geh-gheym. Feels. Bad."
She didn't respond, but her lament decreased in volume.
"It's just a game," said Dragon. The situation was making him uncomfortable. Why should he have to feel bad if he didn't do anything wrong? It didn't seem fair. He didn't like losing either, but he never cried when he did. He wondered why he still played games with Raina, if she never let him enjoy his victories. Maybe because playing with her was better than playing alone, despite everything.
Fortunately, Raina's dad did not seem to blame him. "Tel you wh-what? You two puh-puh-lay to-ghe-duh-ther. I play agh-ghainst y-you. Okay?"
It seemed like a good idea. Then he and Raina can both win and she'll have no reasons to cry.
Before they could begin, however, their ears registered the unmistakable sound of the door being opened.
"Mom!" Dragon bolted to the door, ready to give his mother a welcoming hug. He halted however, noticing something was off. As soon as she emerged from behind the curtain, which they had hung above the threshold for better protection from the cold, Dragon's mother stepped aside and made way for another person to come in.
It was the mysterious woman who had visited them earlier that day.
Seeing the guest, Raina's dad stood up. Raina held tightly onto his leg. Dragon remained in his spot, eyeing the newcomer with curiosity (and a bit of fear, but he wouldn't admit to it).
"Keep calm, everyone," said Dragon's mother as she closed the door and adjusted the curtain. "She's with me."
(…)
When Valka's sight fell on Dragon, she was reminded of the description Rusty had provided on Rhea. Thick and curly, like sheep wool, the young laeknir had said of her hair. The mother and son had both been wearing hoods the first time Valka saw them, but what she was seeing now matched what she had envisioned. The next moment, when Rhea yanked down the hood of her overcoat, Rusty's testimony was confirmed in full. Her hair was indeed thick and curly, like sheep wool. And so was her son's.
Rhea stood next to her wide-eyed child and put her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. When she looked back at Valka, there was a tenderness to her expression.
"My son," she proclaimed with unconcealed pride. "I love him the most in the whole world."
The boy immediately lit up. "I love you too, mommy."
Rhea tousled his hair affectionately. In response, he embraced her at the waist.
The image warmed Valka's heart. There was no doubt in that the mother and son had a strong bond and cared deeply for one another. It was a comforting, knowing that her husband's child was loved.
Still holding onto his mother, the boy looked up the unexpected guest. Noticing the shift in his attention, Rhea provided an explanation. "Dragon, this is Valka. She would like to say hello."
Recognizing her cue, Valka stepped towards them. "It's nice to meet you, Dragon," she said, extending her hand to the child.
Dragon looked at his mother for guidance. Having received the feedback in the form of an encouraging smile and an approving nod, he shook Valka's hand. "It's nice that you meet me," he declared happily.
Valka chuckled. What an adorable little man. There may have been no hint of green or blue to his eyes, but the shape and the shine screamed "Stoick". That smile was also Stoick's. It was incredible. Hiccup had some of his father's traits, but all in all he took more after her. His little brother seemed to be more balanced in terms of looks. Or maybe it was just Valka's impression, heavily influenced by the heat of the moment. Either way, he was a pretty child.
Meanwhile, there were still some introductions to be made.
"Valka, this is Sigurd, the owner of this house. The girl is Raina, his daughter," said Rhea, indicating the pair. "Sig, Raina, this is Valka, she's... she has a story to tell. Sorry for bringing a guest without a warning, but it's important that we hear what she has to say."
Apologies were most definitely in order. The man appeared as tense as if he'd swallowed a stick, and the girl looked dowright terrified. Their discomfort with the situation was painfully obvious.
Doing her best to appear non-threatening, Valka gave a polite nod. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sigurd, Raina. I'm sorry for coming uninvited, and for scaring you earlier. I hope the news I bring will make up, at least in part, for the trouble I am causing."
"You don't have to say anything," added Rhea hurriedly. "I've explained to her you have this quirk that makes it hard to talk. I'll interpret for you if you need me to."
Sigurd did not look remotely happy. Rhea did say he disliked strangers, and his speech impediment always got worse around people he didn't know. Hopefully, by the time Valka finishes her story, he will have relaxed enough to allow for simple communication.
As the man battled with his thoughts, Valka took a moment to study him. His bright blue eyes were wide and alert. In all likelihood, they appeared even bigger due to the dark background - a mess of heavy black hair, sprouting in thick patches from his head and jaws alike. None of those traits were passed onto his daughter - Raina's eyes were hazel and her hair brown. Her facial expressions, however, were a carbon copy of her father's.
Finally, the man of the house seemed to have come to a decision. With a subtle sigh, having spared a moment to pat his daughter's head, he changed his stance – gently, as Raina was still holding onto him – and gestured to the further part of his domain.
Valka knew an invitation when she saw one. "Thank you, good man," she said and advanced.
Sigurd's house was a rather standard Viking lodging. A single, long room, with a hearth in the middle, and elevated platforms at the sides. To the right of the hearth stood a shelf rack, containing bowls, containers, and tools for cooking. At the back of the room, right behind the hearth, was a simple table. Judging by the presence of rugs on the platforms around it, this was where the residents slept. The frontal section, which Valka currently crossed, featured a weaving station to the right, and a collection of basins to the left. There was also a sheet of linen hanging on a string, likely for privacy when somebody needed to take a bath.
On the floor, at Valka's feet, there were some wooden boards cut into basic geometrical shapes, along with a cup and a pair of dice. Rhea hurried to gather the items into her arms. At the same time, she passed the instructions. "Valka, you make yourself comfortable. Sig, you and the kids take a sit. Valka will tell you a story and I'll fix us something to eat."
Dragon perked up "What story is it?" he asked, looking at Valka with vivid interest.
Her response was equally enthusiastic. "It's a story of a great Viking hero," she announced ceremoniously.
The reveal pleased the boy. "Egil of the Varangian Guard?" he guessed.
"Oh, so you like Egil?" Valka was impressed.
"Yeah! He was a simple shepherd, but then he went to Miki-land and had lots of adventures and he returned home with many ships loaded with gold and riches. I want to do that too."
Valka smiled to herself. Egil of the Varangian Guard was a relatively recent hero, he's been dead for only about 20 years. There were still people on Berk who had known him in life. It might be worth introducing them to Dragon when an opporunity emerges.
"I will be rooting for you," she told the boy for now. "Today, however, I would like to tell you about a different kind of hero. A much younger, much newer hero. A hero not much older than you, in fact."
Relishing the increasing excitement on Dragon's face, as well as the pride and love and filling her heart, she revealed the hero's name: "Hiccup the Useful."
(…)
Per general rule, Sig disliked everything foreign or out of ordinary, in particular people. Even dealings with his fellow villagers, who were familiar with his condition and no longer held it against him, left him drained. He did, however, enjoy listening to stories, regardless of who spun them. It didn't matter if the plot was good or bad – Sig appreciated every instance he didn't have to worry about his jaw muscles tightening to the point of pain. Getting lost in another person's words allowed him to relax and forget his disability, if only for a little while.
It should be noted, however, that he rarely believed what he heard on such occasions. Regardless of whether the tale in question concerned gods, heroes from three generations ago, or people living on the other side of the island, Sig maintained an equal dose of skepticism. The present tale – the one narrated by Valka – was no exception.
It centered around a young man by the name of Hiccup, who was the son of Stoick the Vast, the chief of the Hooligan Tribe. It seemed probable enough that the chief in question had a son named Hiccup – Sig tended to ignore news from outside of the Peacables, so he couldn't tell for sure. According to Valka, Hiccup wasn't a natural warrior, but knew how to work leather and steel. That, too, wasn't hard to believe – after all, many children had flaws or defects that couldn't be fixed (such as Sig's speech impediment). Unfortunately for Hiccup, what his tribe needed were fierce fighters, as their island was frequently raided by dragons, who stole their livestock and destroyed their homes. Being unable to participate in combat rendered him useless, which frustrated him greatly.
"Poor Hiccup," said Raina. It was her first utterance since Valka entered their house.
The strange woman regarded her with motherly tenderness. "I see you're sympathetic about Hiccup's situation. He would have appreciated having a friend like you."
The words pleased Raina, and by extension – her father.
Dragon, however, was getting impatient. "What happened next?" he inquired.
Valka explained that Hiccup built a special machine – a bola launcher – that allowed him to shoot bolts with nets at dragons. With this contraption, he managed to strike down the rarest and most dangerous dragon known to his tribe – the Night Fury.
"Cool!" was Dragon's comment.
Sig was fairly impressed. They were getting a decent tale of an unlikely hero who worked around his physical limitations and achieved great things. He was certain the children would derive inspiration from it.
So he thought, until Valka delivered the mother of all plot twists. Her hero did not slay the beast he'd captured. He set it free. Even more surprisingly, the Night Fury didn't kill him. The two of them bonded. Became friends. Learned from each other. Information gained from observing the Night Fury helped Hiccup impress his peers in the dragon training. When he noticed that Toothless – as he had named his new friend – couldn't fly away because of a damaged tail fin, he built an artificial replacement that he could control with a system of pulleys - from a saddle that he too made on his very own.
There was no way Valka wasn't making that up. Possibly as she spoke.
Every time something improbable came up (which was quite frequently), Sig stole a glance at Rhea, who sat by the hearth, preparing a cabbage stew. On her part, Rhea was constantly stealing glances at Valka, looking genuinely invested in the story. It almost seemed as if it concerned somebody she knew.
Sig was having a hard time comprehending all this absurdity.
He knew of the dragon plaque, of course. He even saw a dragon flying by occasionally. Fortunately, they never took interest in his area of residence – there wasn't much game to be bagged, nor livestock. The locals didn't dare keep anything bigger than a chicken, specifically not to attract the fire-breathing monsters.
According to Valka, however, this was all a massive misunderstanding, and dragons were in fact friendly.
"But dragons burn homes and steal sheep," Dragon pointed out.
Valka smiled at him. "Hiccup's friend, Astrid, had these very same objections."
She proceeded to explain that Astrid was a fellow trainee of Hiccup's. Unlike Hiccup, Astrid was a model student – hard-working, agile, and sharp as nails. She found it highly suspicious that the chief's son was suddenly acing every task, when he used to be the weakest in the class. It didn't escape her attention that Hiccup was always sneaking off when they were done training, so she followed him. This was how Astrid discovered Toothless.
Of course, she wanted to inform Hiccup's father, so he'd punish Hiccup for hanging out with the enemy, but Hiccup convinced her to join him for a flight. He wanted to show her how great Toothless really was. The flight turned out to be a very educational one for both the young Vikings, for the Night Fury had taken them to an enormous cave hidden in a mountain. This was the dragons' Nest. Within resided a gigantic dragon, a dragon as big as an island, and all the other dragons were bringing her offerings. If they didn't bring enough food, they were eaten themselves.
"Poor dragons!" exclaimed Raina.
As for Sig, he was terrified. He trembled at the terrible possibility that Valka had told the truth. To think a dragon could grow bigger than an island… urgh!
Meanwhile, the tale continued.
Having won Astrid over, Hiccup decided he had to tell the truth about dragons to the rest of their Tribe. He tried to prove to his people that dragons could be befriended by approaching a Monstrous Nightmare without any weapon. Unfortunately, Hiccup's father, the chief, rushed in, thinking his son was in danger. The Monstrous Nightmare got angry and started to attack everyone. The commotion alerted Toothless, who ran all the way from his cove to protect Hiccup. In the general chaos that ensued, Toothless ended up carrying Hiccup away from the island. Hiccup was devastated. His plan had failed.
"Oh, man!" Dragon commented, "That's not cool."
Alas, the story was far from over. While flying around without a purpose, the young Viking and the Night Fury encountered a mysterious female hermit, who had been living amongst wild dragons for years. That woman, she was Hiccup's mother, whom everybody assumed to have been killed by dragons.
Sig stiffened at this development. As a father of a little girl who had lost her mother, he disapproved of the motif of people coming back to life. He could already hear Raina asking 'If Hiccup could get his mom back, why can't I get mine?'. He'd already had to explain the permanence of death to her multiple times, and more often than not both of them ended up as a sobbing mess. He sincerely hoped they won't have to go through this again. His little girl didn't deserve it and neither did he.
As he predicted, Raina became interested in this unfortunate plot point. "If Hiccup's mom was alive, why didn't she go home?" she inquired.
Valka didn't seem to know the answer. "She… she thought it was better if she didn't return," she said hesitantly.
"Why?" Raina pressed on.
Valka let out a sigh. "On Berk, killing dragons was everything. If you didn't do it, people didn't like you. Hiccup's mom, she knew she could never kill a dragon. Not after she became friends with one. Not after she's lived beside them, as one of them. She was afraid people on Berk wouldn't understand," at this point, her features were tainted by genuine sorrow. "It is hard, you know. Being different than everyone else."
This particular fact Sig happened to know from experience. "It. Is," he uttered, to his own surprise. "Peep-pull, they don-n't, (come on, tongue, work with me!), t-t-like. Diff-rent."
They looked at him – Raina curiously, and Valka with sympathy.
For some reason, he felt obliged to elaborate. "Some pee-pull m-make f-f-fun of you. Some pee-p-peety y-you. They," he swallowed hard, "Call you m-m-mor-r-on or a cr-r-rip-pull, an y-y-yer, huh…" he struggled to find the right word and push it out. "Q-quirk, t-they calla c-curse, oran un-f-f, huh… miss.-F-f-all. Tune."
By now, his throat was sore, but he blamed it on the remorse and hopelessness that tainted most of his memories. He thought about the effort he put into every social interaction. Of all the times he was excluded from games for being a "pain in the butt". Of all the gentle, but deeply hurting remarks concerning his "deficits". His speech impediment dominated all spheres of his life, from as early as he could remember. It was a wonder beyond all wonders that he married and fathered a child.
With a hard swallow, he pushed those thought aside. He had no intention of breaking down in front of a stranger. He was the man of the house and would finish saying what he started to say, damn it. "In… Ind-thee-end, no mat-t-ter ifs z—they mean or-re nice. All… they all see z-z-za q-quirk, no, nutt-ting else… not-thing-else."
For a moment, everybody was silent.
Sig tried to read Valka' expression. Surprisingly, what he saw was genuine interest. The look she bore was that of somber understanding, as if she knew exactly what he was talking about. As if she sympathized with him.
Suddenly, there was a tug at his sleeve.
"Don't worry, daddy," said Raina, sounding concerned. "I love you. If I had a different daddy, I'd leave him and go back to you."
Sig let out a snort. It was a grotesque sound, something between a snort and a grunt. An unnatural grin twisted his face, one that amused him as much as it hurt. His daughter seemed to take it for a good omen, for she smiled and made the combination of gestures for 'You are the coolest'. Sig shook his head, the grin holding on. This world may not have been perfect, but it contained at least one human being who loved his the way he was, sincerely and unconditionally. Grateful for the fact, his pulled his daughter closer and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
Meanwhile, Dragon was confused. "What does this have to do with Hiccup's mom?" he wanted to know.
Valka hurried with an explanation. "Hiccup's mom felt she was different from the other Vikings. She was afraid that Hiccup could grow up to be different, just like her. It was better for him to be a normal Viking, like his father. This is why she chose to stay with the dragons. She thought she was of better use to her than she was to her family."
Sig understood very well where Hiccup's mother was coming from. Ever since he became a father, he'd been praying that the child wouldn't inherit his quirk. 'May she take after her mother, and not after me,' he repeated in his thoughts and communicated through the language of gestures, every day, watching his slumbering baby. This was his major motivation behind enlisting the help of healthy people in Raina's upbringing once her mother passed. He'd never forgive himself if his daughter were crippled like him.
The children, however, were not buying Valka's explanation. Dragon's brows furrowed and Raina's went up.
Valka regarded them with motherly gentleness. "It may be too hard for you to understand right now, but it will make sense one day," she assured.
"Since you took a break from the plot," Rhea spoke suddenly, "you can clean your hands. The stew is just about ready."
"But I want to know what happened to Hiccup and his mom!" Dragon protested.
"Don't worry, we'll get to that," assured Valka, getting up. "Now, come and show me how well you can wash your hands. I've been travelling for so long I may not remember how to do it."
Both children were happy to oblige.