Long Author's Note – TheWhisperingWarrior brought up a very good point about my portrayal of Drago and the Bewilderbeast as not being master-slave. That idea of the master-slave relationship has been used many times and was hinted at in Drago's language in film II ('He who controls the Alpha...') but made no sense to me. Is it reasonable that such a massive creature as the Alpha is truly afraid of and terrorized by a tiny human? For one, how could humans ever catch such a thing and restrain it? Finding it and raising it from a baby makes no sense because it would take many decades if not centuries to reach such a size. The Bewilderbeast never gave any indication of being truly terrorized by the sight of Drago. It made more sense to me to portray them as working together. The Bewilderbeast gets humans to provide more dragons for its flock and Drago gets to wield the power of a dragon army. Plus, them working in concert is a twisted homage to Hiccup's words that he saw himself when he looked at Toothless in their first meeting. Drago/Alpha and Hiccup/Toothless are portrayed in the film as being opposites of the other. The Alpha wants to conquer and fight for itself and to forcibly control other dragons. Toothless wants to defend and fight for others and accepts being made Alpha through acclaim instead of twisted force. Drago wants to take revenge for past offenses (loss of family) that dragons wrought on him when he was a boy and wants to secure a type of peace through subjugation. Hiccup does not seek revenge against the past (loss of family when he was a boy) and wants to live in peace through mutual trust. They are perfect foils to the other.
"I came into a place void of all light... which bellows like the sea in tempest... when it is combated by warring winds." - Dante Alighieri – Inferno – Canto V
Dueling Fates
Astrid walked from family to family, clasping arms with warriors and embracing wives and mothers.
All the preparations had been made as well as they could on such short notice. This was one time when she was quite thankful of how warlike the Volsung still were, as they traveled with extra supplies that were distributed to the other tribes. The Outcasts, true to how they always had been, still struggled to keep many dragons of their own, but they had an impressive number of ships to compensate for that lacking. Many of those ships were recognizable from the battle with the Berserkers several years ago. The Vaina, true to how they had been almost from the start, had far more dragons than the other two new tribes, but they were also not true warriors at heart.
Confidence spread everywhere she went among the tribes. They all knew her blue cape, slowly woven together from Stormfly's shed scales. People prepared all along the beach, putting on armor and sharpening their weapons. The men were laughing and clapping each other on the shoulder without a care in the world.
She turned away from them all, walked down to the beach, and stared out toward the horizon. There were still no ships or dragons on the horizon. But it was a red sky.
Red sky in morning, Nord take warning.
"I have a bad feeling about all this... Something doesn't seem right."
She turned from the beach and walked until she found Thorvald attending to Hookedfang.
"Chief," Thorvald mumbled.
"Come on, Lout, there is no need for that. How are the preparations?"
"They're going well. It is amazing to have all the tribes here working together."
"It is indeed. Do you think we are ready for all this?"
"As ready as we can be. Though from what Dragonheart says, it should not be that bad."
She slowly nodded even though she was not sure herself.
"I will lead the aerial attack if it happens. I want you to lead the riders here near the beach. Sweep the transports with fire. I trust your judgment."
"Will do," he answered.
She turned to leave and paused.
"Have you seen any of the Night Furies today?"
"No, I haven't. We sure could use them in this fight though."
She nodded and left him.
Where is he? He left after the council yesterday and hasn't come back. Maybe he can get Toothless to fight for us if he will not himself.
There was one other place she thought to look short of flying into the ice nest itself with Stormfly.
Unsurprisingly, Stoick was awake and busy working to sharpen spears on an improvised grindstone. He stood to attention as she approached.
"Chief..."
"Stoick, did you see... Hiccup?"
Stoick's grim expression immediately became unreadable.
"Yes, I saw him yesterday."
She quickly hid her surprise.
"Did you talk?"
"Yes."
"And what did he say?"
"I asked him to forgive me, and he said... I would need to earn it."
"That sounds fair to me," she said.
A pained expression seemed to come over him. He clearly struggled with himself for several moments.
"I need to tell you something," he whispered.
"What?"
"It is why I did what I did to them back then."
She said nothing and waited with baited breath, knowing full well what he was going to say and being surprised that he was going to openly admit it to her.
"It is about Hiccup," he continued.
"What about him?"
"He... is my son. My little boy, my brave young man, changed into a dragon. It sounds impossible, I know, but I am sure of it. That hatchling knew things that only my son could know."
She gave him an expression of feigned confusion.
"So, why did you do what you did?"
"I thought I could get him changed back into a human. I did not know what the witch was going to do until I thought I had no choice. Give her Toothless or never get my son back."
"But you did have a choice all that time."
"I know and I chose poorly. He was my son all along. I was desperate. I was too proud. I did not trust my own people. I... wanted you to know that before this battle in case something happens."
She stepped forward and put an arm on his shoulder while giving him a kind smile.
"You are a good man, Stoick. I would say that you have kept your honor ever since then."
He slowly shook his head.
"I wish I could say that there was any left to keep," he mumbled.
She stepped back from him and prepared to depart, but he stepped forward and grabbed her arm.
"Bludvist would not come here unless he was sure of victory. He always had a plan. His plan was to unite the Chiefs under his rule back when he came to the tribal council many years ago. But he had another plan in case they did not bend the knee. None of them did."
"I know. Something does feel strange."
She returned to the preparations for battle as the scouts winged back to shore with the news of the approaching armada. She received the news and strode down to the shore to see it for herself.
There was now a faint cloud visible out on the horizon. A cloud that glittered with all the colors of the rainbow even from such a distance. A rainbow cloud bringing with it death.
Everyone stood obediently in formation. Lines of fighters, shields and spears at the ready, were on the beach, and dragons and riders perched on the ground or cliffs next to their respective tribes.
The ships slowly approached.
They could all see the cloud of dragons spiraling out at sea. A swarm of fire and claws poised to strike. But every time that any of the dragons flew toward the island, they invariably turned away and flew back out to shore, clearly disturbed by something. That something had to be the King, just as Valka had said, though how was completely beyond comprehension.
"Steady girl, steady," Astrid whispered to Stormfly.
The first ships were approaching out in the deep bay. Dozens of armored men were visible on deck along with various pieces of trapping equipment.
What is he doing? They do not have a chance.
A growl seemed to roll through the entire island. The lines wavered, people stumbled, and dragons cried out in alarm.
She somehow knew what was going to happen moments before it did.
The King erupted from underneath the first transport, impaled it on his tusks, and lifted it into the air. Then he fell to the side. The first transport crashed down onto the second one as the tusks tore the lower boat asunder.
A cry went up from all the defenders and roars of triumph echoed from the shore.
The King emerged from the water and hauled himself into the bay's shallows. He turned toward the approaching ships and growled so deeply that the grains of sand shivered.
She allowed herself a grin at the pure power that the King wielded.
Gods, I am glad he is on our side.
And a pair of tusks burst from the deep water offshore as another massive dragon emerged from the depths with a bellow of challenge. The water rolled off its back as it came into view and hauled itself onto solid land in the bay.
Her grin faded as she saw the new arrival.
The raucous cheering vanished.
"No..." she whispered in shock.
It was another massive grey dragon just as large as the King and of the same exact type. It had a massive chain around its neck and bore plates of armor. Its dangerously sharpened tusks gleamed white in the sunlight. It walked between two ships without seeming to notice them at all. The ships clearly did not matter at all to it.
It only had eyes for one thing on the island.
The two titanic creatures stared at each other just across the bay. They snarled and waved their tusks in challenge, seemingly forgetting everything else around them.
She knew what was going to happen. They were going to clash.
With a flash of understanding, she realized that Drago's entire plan somehow revolved around the outcome of this one fight. The whole battle depended on this one colossal creature that had come forward in challenge. That was Drago's weakness, one key point that if struck would end everything. None of the boats, other dragons, or human attackers mattered at all.
She gave the attack signal to all the other riders just as both titans called aloud. Hundreds of dragons went aloft from the island in seconds while the living crown of dragons descended from over the grey challenger's head.
The titans charged, their every stride echoing through the ground and stirring up great waves. Their tusks met with a crack as the two flights above met with fire and claws.
And everything became chaos.
The defenders were forced back at the savagery of the attack. The armored dragons did not even try to plan their attacks and instead merely threw their bodies, claws, fire, and teeth at the defenders. Flashes of fire erupted everywhere in the skies.
She saw dozens of dragons, defenders and attackers alike, fall from the skies. She and Stormfly ducked under a pillar of flame from an attacking Nightmare. Stormfly dove in a short dive and flicked her tail, sending a handful of spines into the attacking dragon's hide.
No sooner did they pull up than she had to spin away to evade another attempted strike from a Gronkle. One of the Volsung riders next to her was knocked off his Nightmare and fell.
The attacking dragons continued to spiral around the titans while hounding the defenders back, clearly working to prevent any interference in the battle while also being unable to intervene themselves.
Fires erupted, claws flashed, and teeth snapped. Howls and screams echoed on the wind. And massive cracks and groans echoed over all the other noise every few moments as the duel continued.
None of the riders or their mounts could get near the titanic clash. Drago's war ships had engaged the fleet on the water below as his flagship and transports approached the shore without opposition.
Blast, mercenaries...
He screwed his blacksmith's hammer onto his arm and lifted a shield in the other. The first transport had landed and was spilling out soldiers onto the shore. None of the tribes' dragons were free to flame this company of attackers since they were entirely engaged with the swarm above.
He quickly turned to the nearest men at his side and clasped arms with them. Then he felt a tap on the shoulder.
"Gobber, my friend..."
Gobber slowly turned and faced him. Stoick was clad in armor and had a massive hammer in hand.
"Stoick... I thought ye swore off fighting..."
Stoick looked out at the large mass of approaching men and shrugged.
"Well, Surtur flew off when the King called to them. And I saw a bunch of heads over here that need knocking, shields that need breaking, and... a friend that I would stand by."
Gobber strode over and embraced him. It had been a long time since they hugged.
"There're are a lot of 'em though, Stoick."
"I know, Gobber. Perhaps today is a good day to die. How many do you think you can take?"
They stepped back, turned to the nearing fighters, stood shoulder to shoulder, and considered them.
"They don't look like much. Ten," Gobber declared.
"Ten? I think I can double that number!" Stoick laughed.
"You do have twice as many hands as me," Gobber chuckled.
They both raised their weapons and their voices.
"See you in Valhalla, my friend," Stoick growled.
"For Berk!"
"Death!" "Berk!"
The lines charged and met with a rain of arrows and the clash of blades.
Battle was joined in the sky, on the water, and on the ground.
They had locked tusks, and he had driven the challenger slightly back from his island. It remained an even match as they swung at each other, their growls shuddering the sea. Then the challenger made a wild strike, trying to undercut his own attack. Both strikes missed but left the challenger unbalanced.
He lunged, driving his tusks up toward the challenger's throat just as it reared backwards. The tip of his tusk pressed into the challenger's exposed weakness, but the tusk's dull point scraped off the scales and missed being a death strike.
They both retreated several steps to catch their breath while glaring at the other. Their life-flames burned brightly but were closed to the other. He felt the growing chill in his liver at how skilled his opponent was and how much more endurance it had. It was the superior fighter of the two despite its momentary lapse.
Then the challenger briefly closed its eyes, possibly signaling a truce or delay in the fighting.
And then he heard a sound from above. A whistling shriek.
He glanced up and saw the source of the shriek.
A dark wing. The dark wing from his own nest. The dark wing that had only lift and warmth in its liver for kin. The dark wing that had clever paws like she-kin-liver-clever-paws and helped to make kin not be thralls. The dark wing that could comprehend the incomprehensible noises of two-legs. The dark wing that was far more than the other not dark wing kin in his nest.
The dark wing that was now a mind-thrall to the challenger great one.
He narrowed his gaze on the dark wing and reached toward it with his great will in a way he had not before even when its actions were liver-twisted. His great will that could burrow into another kin's life-fire vision-hopes, twist them into something not-true, and make them be. He only used his great will on his kin in great need to sooth their pain, ease their passing, or prevent death bringing challenge fights. The kin would know nothing of the range around them. Comforted. Flying in thought. Free of pain. At peace.
But what he saw inside this dark wing was bad, twisted, wrong, lies, false!
It was not a kin's life-fire vision-hope. These life-winds were flying against each other and fouling up the other's flight. They were waters calm on the surface but a writhing storm unseen beneath. And they were also lacking, twisted into not having what the dark wing held closest to its liver.
Empty, peaceful lies that let another will act through it in its place. A foul, twisted, rotted will to death.
The dark wing continued its death-dive as the other great one challenger got to its feet and charged.
It would be easy. Send forth his breath, his warmth-devouring wind, to freeze the water-mist in the air, and the dark wing would be no more. Ignore the dark wing and its fire-breath death-dive would further unbalance the clash.
To let the dark wing live would mean his own time was flown and ended, if that was not already certain. He was the weaker of the two great ones in body and battle skill, having never aimed his own life-flight toward such conquest.
But he could not and would not kill an innocent. The dark wing diving toward him with a maw filled with death was a false-kin. It was a thrall-kin.
He frees thrall-kin.
But its twisted-vision-hope was too powerful for him to shatter. He did not truly know the dark wing. He could not mingle his own life-flame with that of the dark wing. He could not speak the deep words which could only be truth and which the dark wing's life-flame would know as truth. Their life-flames were too different.
He could crack at the twisted-vision-hope though. He whispered to the dark wing of lies. Of wrongness. Of being thrall. Of being lost. Of needing to find. Of needing more than vision-hopes. Of needing truth instead of comfort.
And the cracks spilled through the false-vision-hope.
The dark wing tossed its head and pulled out of the dive. It bellowed in alarm and turned for shore with a trembling, disturbed flight.
The tusk glanced off his shoulder as he spun to meet the other challenger great one again. He shrugged off the painful strike and struck at its head from the side, but it had ducked under his wild, pained, and weary strike. It locked his head between its tusks and hurled him down into a large rock. It was the superior fighter of the pair.
Then it lunged at his exposed weakness.
He looked up at its great eyes as they drew closer to him. Those eyes that were narrowed in cruel triumph. Of the culmination of many cycles of preparation. Of what it thought justice, now twisted into revenge at imagined offenses. Of the two-leg Alpha whose life-fire burned like its own. Of shame before two-legs. Of its will before others. Of death to all who would oppose it.
He closed his eyes for the last time and remembered.
The She-Greatest-One, the She Who Sees with no eyes and speaks with no voice, had whispered to him many season-cycles ago of two necessary acts in his life. The first was his need to send a trusted-kin to a far island of two-legs and retrieve a two-leg in whose liver burned the fire of a kin. The second was of the only choice that mattered in his life. Of the choice that in some way flew under the wings of every small sacrifice he made for those he was responsible to. Of the life or death of another. Of the dark wing whose life would change the world.
Assert himself or let himself fade.
The challenge resolved and conquest achieved, his and the victor's life-flames opened and mingled for the last time. He felt the rot and pain writhing behind the triumph in its eyes. The same rot that would foul even its triumph here and make its liver feel no warmth now or ever.
And he struck at its life-flame with his last act. With the coldest, most piercing spike of thought-words possible. The words were so terrible because they both knew that they spoke only truth. Life-flame could not speak untruth.
.
You have lost everything, brother.
.
.
Everything...
.
Stopped...
.
The roars were silenced.
.
The shouting faded.
.
All heads swiveled in the same direction.
.
Astrid spun around in the saddle after noticing the strange silence and complete lack of fighting. All the dragons in the sky had turned and were looking in the same direction. She stared in horror as well at the distant outcome.
.
"No..."
.
The new Alpha stepped back, drew its blood-coated tusks from the dead King, and heaved heavily for several moments out in the shallows. It slowly shook its head as if in dismay.
.
Then the new Alpha slowly lifted its head toward the shore and stared at the hundreds of dragons and humans on the shore and in the sky.
.
There was one instant of peace.
.
Then it roared a cry of triumph that echoed over the whole island.
.
Stormfly started tossing her head and shrieking wildly.
"Girl, what is wrong?" she put her hand on her dragon's neck but not no response other than a shriek that she had never heard from her dragon before.
She would have fallen when Stormfly started bucking and pitching if she had not been latched to her saddle at the time.
A shrieking wailing started to emerge in the air.
She looked down the beach and saw something similar happening everywhere. All the dragons seemed to be affected by something terrible and were flying and screeching wildly.
What is going on?
Everything had gone wrong after Drago revealed his secret weapon. No one could have prepared for his having a dragon like the King. It was not part of the plan.
The terrifying result was right there in the air around her.
Bonded dragons kicked off their riders or otherwise thrashed furiously in the sky. Dragons with empty saddles had turned and were attacking the beach as new fires blossomed throughout. Several poor souls were snatched up in massive jaws and carried into the sky.
Stormfly managed to remain in the sky and glided with a trembling flight back to shore.
"Stormfly, girl?" she screamed.
Stormfly landed roughly and stood shuddering, almost as though the dragon had forgotten completely about the battle, her rider, and everything.
She unlatched herself from the saddle with a click, ready to give her dragon whatever comfort was possible. Stormfly hopped wildly at that faint sound and beat her wings to take flight.
She was tossed from the saddle and fell the couple lengths toward the rocky ground. She hit her head, and everything went dark.
Valka looked out from on Cloudjumper's back and stared. She saw the King fall. She felt a knife through her own heart at the strike. Over twenty years she had known the great King.
Why had she not known? It was obvious now how Drago assembled his army.
Even more shattering though was the Night Fury that she saw flying away from the bay.
Its flight was terrifyingly disturbed and rigid. It was as though it was not truly free, which it was not.
"No! No... Hiccup..."
And her heart broke as she tugged on Cloudjumper's neck to fly them both up away from the cataclysm down below. As the impossible dream she had dreamed for many years long ago and had seen made real shattered in teeth, claws, and fire. There was nothing she could do for Hiccup or any of the others below. To take Cloudjumper within call of that new Bewilderbeast would likely only enthrall him and doom her as well.
She wept as they circled high above, apparently beyond the range of the Monster's call but still able to see everything.
Was-Grounded heard the echo of a terrible bellow from outside the nest. Something chilling was happening out there. All the other kin except the hatchlings had been called out by the great-tusk-Alpha earlier. He and Green-Wings had also felt a great need to fly forth as well, but they had both ignored that call to keep Dawn-Singer safe. Being here with their little one was the far greater calling for both of them.
This time though they shared a brief glance and worried nuzzle before he left her and Dawn-Singer behind at their ledge and flew through the empty nest out to the overlook.
Something had sounded wrong about that most recent bellow. It was similar to the great-tusk-Alpha but different. He had to find out what was happening outside the ice nest.
The feeling of ice and fear that had wiggled in his liver since waking grew stronger as he flew to the outer ledge.
Then he emerged on the outside of the nest and pulled up at what he saw. A spike of ice was driven through his liver.
Fires burned everywhere down below. Water-walkers burned brightly. Grounded kin and two-legs covered the ocean and land. Kin were shrieking wildly and diving to flame or strike at two-legs on the ground. And the great-tusk-Alpha that was a good Alpha to the ice nest lay motionless in the waves, dead at the tusks of another such kin. At the tusks of a Monster.
The Monster again called aloud its triumph, and even from such a distance he felt the power of its great call.
To take his place above it in its dominance.
To fly free of any painful thought.
To have what he wanted.
To find true peace.
To submit.
To obey.
He blinked and shook his head as he remembered Green-Wings and Dawn-Singer, both hidden deep within the ice nest. Her wildness and bravery, the new egg that she carried even now, and the warmth that filled his liver when he was around his little fledgling.
That was his place. Not swarming above a Monster, never to have his thoughts and life to give and use as he wanted.
The Monster's triumphant and commanding call washed over him and could not cling to his liver. His liver was already filled, not empty and wanting something that he did not have.
He heaved as he caught his breath and looked down over the destruction. All the grounding and death was very bad and chilling, but his own nest-kin were safe and would stay safe. Dash back into the nest, warn her, grab Dawn-Singer, and they could vanish into the sky with their tails to the fighting and dying. They were the only ones he was truly responsible to.
Only them and...
And then he saw a Night Fury floating on the wind far below, its flight empty of purpose or awareness.
Several life-organ beats passed as the terrible sight sank in and dragged its sharp claws across his liver. His breaths were stilled as he watched Shadowwing gliding, completely enthralled by the great-tusk-Monster. There was no way to know how strong that control was.
He spun around and stared into the relative safety of the nest where his own nest-kin lay hidden.
And he remembered it all again in an instant.
Two-leg Hiccup risking his own life to save him on the water-walker outside the fire-nest. His own teaching Hiccup how to talk and fly as nestlings and fledglings. Fighting with him in his rock-headedness. Sleeping at his side for warmth on many a cold-season's night. Hiccup's willingness to fly the nest to search for him. Letting him share the nest and den with Green-Wings and Dawn-Singer.
I will keep you safe, Hiccup. I promise.
His own words spoken to a newly-hatched Hiccup all those seasons-cycles in the past.
My best friend...
My brother...
There was another of his nest-kin who was not safe and free to flee with him.
Not yet.
He closed his eyes and drew a great breath to steady his life-fire, knowing well what he had to do. He turned tail on the ledge and dashed inside the almost empty nest. A quick flight took him over to his roost where Green-Wings awaited. She was already on her feet and nervously pacing.
"What was that? I... wanted to go out there but our Dawn-Singer is here and... what is happening?" she growled in alarm and confusion.
"Take him and fly to a far small-island. Stay away from the fighting. Go to our range if I do not come back."
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed in worry.
"What I must do," he growled.
"Sire?" Dawn-Singer chirped with evident fear.
He bent down to nuzzle his little fledgling.
"Go with your dam, my little one, go and be safe."
He looked back up at her.
"Go now!"
If she was confused or much alarmed, she hid it well.
"If you do not come back to me, I will find you and eat your liver!" she shouted.
Then she quickly grabbed Dawn-Singer in her arms, not trusting him to be able to fly fast enough, and flew out the nest away from the battle. He watched them both go with a chill in his liver.
I might never see her again, but they will be free.
He flew back to the overlook and observed the battlefield, looking for any sign of his target. Then he spotted the small black speck well removed from the continued fighting. That was very fortunate for his own purposes.
He glanced at the great-tusk-Monster, confirmed that it was distracted, and threw himself from the ledge, slowly flying out over the death. He could not count the number of grounded kin and two-legs far below.
Then he dove while concealing any sound from his dive.
Don't look up... don't look up...
The enthralled Shadowwing barely reacted at all until it was too late. He stretched himself out at the last moment and crashed into the Night Fury from above. They both tumbled from the sky, only barely managing to right themselves before crashing. He recovered himself and flapped once to arrest his fall while the other rolled head over tail to a stop.
"Shadowwing..."
He barely had a moment to recover though before the other Night Fury jumped to its feet with a snarl and turned on him.
It did not respond as it stared him down for many wingbeats. Its eyes were narrowed in death, and in them there was no shadow of the kin he knew.
Then it struck and slashed at him with a ferocity that Shadowwing was not capable of. He barely dodged the ball of glowing fire that shot from its mouth by leaping over it. Then it continued to swipe and snap at him. He stepped back, dodging each of its wild strikes. It was hard to properly fight back without being willing to strike a grounding blow.
"Stop!"
It did not react except to leap at him again and try to close its jaws around his wings. He again spun away from its most recent strikes.
"Hiccup!"
It froze for an instant and blinked. Hope was sparked in his liver.
It shook its head for a moment and then snarled anew. It jumped with a forearm and claws held out to slash. He was able to block the strike with his own arm. He was still the faster and stronger of the two. His liver became more chilled as the fight dragged on though. This creature had none of Shadowwing's many weaknesses.
"Please stop!"
It stumbled back from him and froze with its ears flattened to its head, overcome by an unknown disturbance. Then it looked up and away down the beach, clearly hearing a command. It crouched and prepared to jump for the sky, their duel apparently forgotten.
No, you don't!
He jumped after it, closed his teeth firmly around a leg, and fouled its escape flight. It shrieked its protest as it tucked its wings and fell onto its back. It had its breath knocked from it, and it lay there like a weak thing as he approached in the hope that it was weak enough for him to try something else.
What can I do?
Then it recovered and hurled itself at him, not even bothering for a strike with any care. Even he was taken by surprise at the speed of the wild strike. They rolled and its claws dug into his soft belly as he howled in alarm and pain.
It fell completely on him, bared its teeth right near his throat, and breathed heavily. Its eyes narrowed on his own fearful ones. Its eyes, in which he saw only his own death, stared him down and... froze in confusion.
It whined and stepped back slightly. Its slitted eyes glanced at its own foreclaws coated in his life-water.
That moment was all he needed.
He kicked it back, twisted, and quickly righted himself. He threw himself at it while it was on its side, ignoring his own pain and life-water dripping from his belly. His jaws closed around its throat, and he twisted it onto its back, completely pinning it and able to tear out its throat... if there was nothing left of his brother to save.
He fought against the pain, the fear, the need to tear, to rend, and to go for the kill. It was very hard, even knowing who this was...
Not trusting himself in the battle-moment and his fighting-anger, he unclenched his jaws and held out a paw and foreclaws to pin it down at its throat.
Then he roared his pain and fear directly in its face. At this thing that was so familiar and dear but was also neither.
It went still and limp under him as it looked away from his eyes in fear of its own. They both heaved with exhaustion, and it remained motionless in his grasp.
Then its slitted eyes rolled to his. And it grinned at him.
"I... hate... you..." it growled.
He gasped in disbelief and fear.
"You... took... everything... from... me..."
His liver broke at such terrible words that clearly revealed the truth. Hiccup had never truly forgiven him for what he did to him, for taking him out of the world that he knew and wanted to be part of even now.
"You... are... not... my... br..."
Its voice broke and its eyes wavered, quickly growing large and then fading again. But he saw the fear and confusion in its eyes in that instant.
There was still someone in there to save. The twisted voice was only the Monster or a false-lies-shadow talking.
"Hiccup?" he gasped.
Its slitted eyes wavered as they again locked gazes.
Another life-organ beat passed before his pained and fateful words came forth, the answer to which or lack thereof would shape all the winds of their future.
"Do you know me?"
The Night Fury's lips curled open again, and it growled a single pained, fearful, and confused word as its eyes continued to waver.
"Toothless?"
.
Headache.
.
Flashes of light.
.
Pain, confusion, and swirling voices.
.
Her limbs dangling at her side.
.
She vaguely felt herself being carried a great distance and then roughly deposited on the ground.
.
Breaths slowly recovered.
.
A single cruel voice called out to her through the haze.
"Well, well, look what I have here! Dragon master."
She did not have enough breath to respond as she opened her eyes, slowly recovered her wits, and gradually realized where she was. She was up on the ledge that separated the beach roughly in half. Around her stood soldiers and a singular man wearing a dark scale cloak and wielding a staff-spear as a weapon.
Never had she seen him before but the presence of authority that the man had and the amount of deference he was being given were all she needed to know.
She pushed herself to her feet and faced Bludvist. The monstrous man who was responsible for all of this. She reached for her blade, ready to run him through to avenge all the senseless death and destruction, but her weapon was gone and she was defenseless, save for her small, hidden dagger at her hip. That weapon would be useless except maybe in close quarters.
A crashing sound echoed behind her as the victorious Bewilderbeast slowly hauled itself onto the shore and approached. Its massive crimson tusks swung overhead.
A silent moment passed as she and Bludvist glared at each other.
"The would-be dragon master or whisperer or whatever you call yourself. I have heard much about you. Most... impressive," Drago sneered.
"I never wanted to be any of that. You know nothing about us," she answered.
"I know enough. You think that you can have and control dragons of your own? None of you are worthy."
"Control? It was never about that with us."
"No? That is the only way. They will turn on you if you trust them. I should know."
"You are wrong about them. They are good creatures that can bring people together."
He chuckled savagely.
"Oh, you think there is something special about them? Something that you could show me?"
She could see the madness, coldness, and pain burning in his eyes, and she knew that he was completely beyond redemption or reasoned argument.
"Nothing that you could see," she answered.
"Good that we understand each other," he growled.
He stepped closer to her and away from his guards, slowly backing her toward the cliff that fell straight down onto the rocks several dozen lengths below.
"I heard that you have a Night Fury," he laughed.
"You heard wrong. We never had him. He was always free."
"Not anymore."
He smiled, raised the staff, and pointed it at her.
A moment passed before she realized it was a command. With that terrible realization, she looked to the skies in budding horror as she understood the insinuation behind the command and his last few words.
No, he doesn't have a... Hiccup didn't...
But Hiccup had been missing all morning after being dismayed at being told that peace was impossible.
She remembered the strange things she had heard in the past about big dragons and what she had seen when the white King fell. The terrible possibility became all too real. What if something had happened and Drago had managed to capture Hiccup? What if he had been controlled, if that was even possible, as seemed to have happened with most of the other dragons?
The moments ticked by as she fearfully scanned the skies.
There was no infamous shriek diving from the sky to announce her coming death at the claws and teeth of someone she knew and loved.
The moments passed in silence. Drago's smug grin gradually turned into a frown as he too looked up at the sky in evident confusion.
"You seem to have a problem," she teased.
"No, this is not possible!" he growled up at the Bewilderbeast.
It only replied by closing its eyes in apparent confusion, growling warily, and turning away to face down the shore to where the fighting had ceased.
"You are a coward!" she screamed.
Drago paused and glared at her.
"A spineless coward who hides behind slaves and makes others do the fighting for him! You wouldn't even face a woman in honest battle!"
"You want to face me?"
"If you still have the manhood for it."
Then a wicked smile appeared upon the great man's twisted, scarred face.
"I like your fire, girl. Dragon master against dragon master. My way against your way. It seems fitting. What weapon do you want?"
"My sword."
"Get the girl her sword!" Drago roared.
One of the soldiers brought forth her sword and tossed it to her. She had tied her hair up in a bun and set aside her cape in that time. He did not remove his cape though. He apparently carried no weapon other than his staff.
Something seemed too certain about his movements. He was too confident and accustomed to victory. That could be his weakness.
She held her sword out at her side and faced him while balancing herself on the balls of her feet. Poised, ready to strike or dodge.
He strode forward, his staff now held like a spear. He jabbed at her, but she easily ducked and hopped to the side. Then he held the staff like a bat in one hand and swung at her. Their weapons met with a crash and hail of sparks.
His strength almost overwhelmed her on the first strike, and she barely spun to the side, putting a few feet between herself and him. She noticed that his staff seemed to have bent slightly at its midpoint where the weapons clashed. They both stepped back from the other.
"You are quick, I'll give you that," he growled.
"Why are you doing this! What did we do to you?"
He paused for a moment as a truly haunted look passed over him.
"It is not what you did. It is what they did!"
"They?"
He gave a quite draconic snarl of his own.
"I know what it is to live in fear! I watched my village burn, my family taken. But even as a boy, left with nothing, I promised that I would avenge them and rid the world of the dragon menace."
"By causing all this death using a dragon army, are you serious?' she shouted.
"You need dragons to conquer other dragons," he grinned.
"Or maybe you need dragons to conquer other people instead. You never wanted revenge against dragons. You betrayed that promise."
He chuckled maniacally.
"Clever girl. But what better revenge is there against dragons than to make them slaves that give me power?"
"How about not let the past control your life!"
"Weakness... this is my purpose now!" he growled.
"What would your family say about what you have become?"
He only replied by howling and stabbing at her again. She easily dodged, being far more nimble than he was, and rolled to her feet as the duel resumed.
Why does he only use the right?
He had not yet even tried to grasp his weapon with his left arm.
Maybe it is weaker. That is his weakness.
She stepped back to catch her breath.
"Are you even trying?" she mocked him.
"It is over! Your Alpha is dead!" he growled.
"I am not!" she sneered.
He charged with a howl and swung the staff overhead, bringing it down where she had stood an instant before. Her sword spun in an arc down onto the staff's midsection with all her considerable strength and speed.
The staff snapped in half.
She dodged to the side to avoid the counterstrike, rolled, and struck down at his armored leg from behind. The blow did not pierce the armor but did send him to his knees in pain. She swung the sword high and brought it down on his offhand arm as he spun to block the strike.
The strike was perfect, and the blade sank deep into the arm.
He did not bat an eye.
Something had felt wrong about the strike too. It had not felt like carving into meat and bone.
Drago turned to the side, wrenching the sword from her hands as his entire false arm fell away to the ground. He reached out with his remaining arm, grabbed her by the neck, and lifted her from her feet. His massive fingers closed on her throat as she kicked and tried in vain to pry them away. It was impossible to even scream or draw breath.
He stepped over to the ledge and, with impossible strength, held her out over the precipice. She became light-headed, and spots filled her vision as she kicked at his chest without effect. He wavered for just a moment as he was precariously balanced while holding her out over the drop.
"I am the Dragon Master!" he growled in triumph.
The panic and pain vanished. She dropped one of her hands from her throat and struggled to speak. He let up his choking grasp just enough that she could answer.
"You... will... n..."
"Yes, go on..." he growled as he pulled her nearer to him.
"... never... be... their... master..."
She knew it in that moment of lucidity when he pulled her closer to gloat over her defeat. He had fallen for the single most common weakness that the great tended to fall for. Overconfidence. Overestimation of their own ability.
He saw only accepted defeat in her relaxing her grasp on his arm. He never saw her hand slide down to her hip and retrieve a hidden object given to her by her father many years ago. He had no free arm with which to block any strike.
He never saw the dagger that she drove into his neck.
His eyes went wide in shock as he realized his failure. He wavered for an instant and lost his balance before any of his soldiers could reach him.
His gaze went down the coastline as he fell. He saw the dragons swarming over the shore and killing as they went. He remembered the dragons that had swarmed over his own village many years ago when he lost an arm, all his family, and all that made life worth living. He remembered looking at his remaining bloody fist and hearing his own name whispered from the darkness. A new name that would always remind himself of the past and never let him heal.
If only someone would rid the world of these monsters and destroy the shadow of fear that they caused. Maybe he would. Maybe he would avenge all those he lost long ago. Maybe he would rid the world of the dragon menace...