Sixteen
Safety is a strange thing.
In a village of Vikings, safety can mean many things – shelter and food in their bellies and freedom from invading attacks. Safety is pleasant weather and the crackling fire in the center of the Great Hall when the Elders pass down the stories of their people during their celebrations. Safety is the silent acceptance in her father's eyes when Iza does something else that the other village girls do not.
Safety has not ever meant the certainty that her secrets would be kept. But that is what safety is now – even with three people aware of Eko's existance, one of them the greatest hunter and warrior in her generation, Iza is absolutely sure that her secrets are safe.
Alise, she knows, plays by her own set of rules. Alise has never cared for gossip, mostly because she has often been the center of that gossip. Now that Alise is older, people tend to listen to her strangeness rather than fear it and still Alise does not spare a second thought for any mind except her own.
Carlisle will keep Eko a secret because he cannot fully communicate in Norse and because he feels some loyalty for Iza and because he seems genuinely fond of the dragon. The Saxon has no reason to betray Iza's secret because she has not given him one.
Edvard is a different matter. He has every reason to stand in the Great Hall and reveal the secret Iza has been keeping hidden for these past few months. Edvard has killed dragons. He holds a neutral – perhaps even aloof or careless – regard for Iza, so there is no loyalty to deal with. And as someone who holds some station of power in the village, Edvard is socially aware enough that his position depends on how well he is viewed. He is constantly in competition to be the best. In short, unlike the others, Edvard has no reason to keep Iza's secet.
But she knows that he will. It is a certainty that she feels in her bones, that is confirmed each time she draws breath. Edvard won't breathe a word about Eko and so Eko is safe. Iza is safe.
When she was younger, she had heard the adults claim that there was safety in numbers. Mostly she heard this because the numbers were always against her, ostracizing her for her disinterest in common interests. The only surety Iza has ever felt with her peers came from Alise, who was in the same boat of being other from the rest of the village.
Now, however, Iza understands what the adults had meant. There is safety – for Eko – in numbers. Iza has spent months stretching herself thin, trying to look after the village and hide a baby dragon under their noses at the same time. Both occupations were full time. It is a wonder that Iza had not fallen ill from the stress alone.
But now with Carlisle, there is someone do help with chores or keep an eye on Eko while Iza tends to the village. With Alise, there is some warning and some extra coordination when Iza dares to take Eko to the river or the forest. And with Edvard, though he is not there consistently, there is a confidence that someone will cover for her when she needs it.
Indeed, it has not escaped her notice that Edvard had subtly made excuses for Iza in the village these past weeks since he found out about Eko. If anyone had aired a complaint that Iza was slacking, Edvard had apparently dropped a passing comment about Iza's various duties and how being independent must be difficult while the Cheiftain is gone for so long. Edvard, it seems, is an expert in utilizing shame to keep mouths shut.
Iza is grateful for it. That kind of subtle, shadowy manipulation is not something she knows well – when Iza seeks to manipulate the village, to turn them to her side, she is more akin to a rolling boulder rather than a small breeze. When Iza seeks to manipulate, she starts small and gains speed and before anyone can realize it they have already been overcome. For Edvard, a few whispered words are enough to turn cheeks.
They are very alike, and yet very different.
And still, Iza knows that she and Eko are safe.
But she also knows that this sense of safety is not going to last. Eko is growing each day and the time for the Cheiftain to return is rapidly approaching. There is only so long Iza can keep a dragon the size of a pig hidden. And when her father returns, there is no possible way to keep Eko in her longhouse.
Time will take Iza's safety from her.
She cherishes this sense of safety while it lasts. There is a sinking in her stomach – or maybe a feeling in the air – that tells her this peace will not last. It has been too long since the dragons last attacked, too long since the raiders left home, too long since anything except the sun filled the sky.
The summer is hot and merciless. Iza's skin pinks under the sun, peeling to reveal a dust of golden skin on the tops of her shoulders and her nose. Carlisle fares even less well under the sun, developing a fever that last days and causes him to stay indoors or in the shade during the hottest parts of the day. The villagers seem to share the same thoughts, the village quiet when Iza makes her mid-day rounds between the Elders and anyone else who needs her attention, Mik lagging on her heels. Even the hunters and fishermen change their schedules to avoid the sun, doing their work in the early morning hours. The farmers, concerned that crops do not have enough water, call in all the hands of the villagers to lug buckets of water from the river before breakfast and before evening meals. Iza worries for the crops, as well. She can vividly remember how difficult that winter in her childhood had been, when the harvest had partially failed after a rainless summer and there was not enough grain to feed hungry mouths. She does not intend to let that happen under her watch.
The only one unbothered by the heat is Eko, who seems to enjoy the scorch of the sun and basks in the sunlight any chance she has. Iza wishes the dragon had more chances, but with secrecy being necessary, Eko can only steal moments here and there. Eko understands, though, that much Iza knows for sure.
Not only through their bonded minds – but also because Eko has begun to be more verbal, speaking short, clumsy words to Iza through their mental link. Eko learns Iza's language alongside Carlisle, aided by her access to Iza's mind, and the loneliness that has stuck to Iza since childhood begins to fade. She has a constant companion.
But this is not the only thing that changes.
During the very height of the summer, Eko seems to hit some kind of growth spurt, her limbs losing the rounded softness of childhood and stretching out. Eko grows in length, her body more slender, her legs and her tail longer, and even the expanse of her wings nearly doubling. Right before Iza's eyes, the dragon that she had once been able to cradle to her breast has gone from the size of a sheep to nearly the size of a cow. Eko is still able to fit into the longhouse because her shape is so svelte, but she can no longer curl up inside the hearth like she did when she was younger. Then again, the dragon also does not seem to need the heat any longer – the heat is now comfort, not a tool for survival.
Eko grows – and she is stronger, able to glide and fly low on the ground now that her wings can lift her body weight, her control over her talons ironclad. But for all of Eko's growth, she is still so restricted and a very large part of Iza's heart aches with the knowledge that Eko is almost fully grown and yet has never taken to the sky the way she was born to do. Iza feels such guilt for it, but she does not know what to do. Something has to change, yet Iza is unsure of how to make that change happen.
All the while, that pervading sense hangs over her head.
Waiting.
Breathless.
A tingle down her spine.
Change will come.
Edvard, she thinks, is part of the reason Iza is so sure of this. Intuition can only serve humans so far – but when Edvard takes a look at Eko's rapid growth one afternoon and declares that her dragon is far too big to hide now, Iza knows that she cannot deny that he is right.
"Some villagers are blind, but they are not this blind," Edvard tells her, arms folded across his chest. His face is as impassive as ever, but his vividly green eyes are alight with something that Iza cannot quite name.
Iza turns her gaze away, stomach flipping under his intense scrutiny, and watches as Eko laps at water from a small stream, her wings folded close to her back. "I know," she says lowly. "I know. And we should not be out here, not this close to sunset, but…"
She doesn't know how to finish the thought, but the feeling is there. Dragons – whether they are attacking the village or not – are creatures of the natural world. They are meant to fly and be free. They are not meant to be confined to one place, to one person, to one time of day for the fear of exposure.
Eko is her dragon and Iza does her a disservice by keeping the dragon leashed to her side. Eko might be safe, but she is not free. Even Carlisle has more freedom.
Yet Iza cannot rest easy and allow Eko to roam – not in this village, not when Eko is still so young…
These are excuses, she knows. If she were braver, Eko could be freer.
Iza is not brave. Not truly.
"Will you ride the dragon?" Edvard asks abruptly. When Iza turns to him sharply, both brows high on her forehead, he merely rolls his broad shoulders. "You have never given it a thought? She is certainly large enough that you could fit on her back."
Truthfully, the thought had never even occurred to Iza. Ride a dragon? What a concept!
Iza gives Edvard a strange look. "Why would I ride a dragon?"
And for the first time since perhaps their shared childhood, Iza sees a vulnerable expression cross Edvard's stoic face, a certain wistfulness as he looks up toward the darkening sky through the heavy treetops. "Have you ever wondered what it must be like to fly? I envy the birds. And the dragons, I suppose."
He is so….Iza's thought trails off. She is not sure what Edvard is, but he is so very…Edvard. Unpredictable at the best of times and inscrutable otherwise.
He does not give her a chance to respond, drawing his gaze back down and jerking his chin toward the direction of the village. "You better hide your dragon before the villagers come to collect water."
He is right, of course. Iza and Eko have lingered too long in the forest and it is risky to do so, especially now. Still, Iza spares one moment to take one last lingering look at the smooth planes of Edvard's face before she and Eko pick through a roundabout route back to the longhouse on the highest hill.
He watches her like she watches him.
She wishes she knew what it meant.
Worry? Eko wonders, a low feminine trill shivering through the back of Iza's mind. The dragon had obviously caught onto the anxious tenor of Iza's thoughts, the endless circling cycle of one concern after another.
Yes, Iza answers back honestly, thinking hard to direct her thoughts toward the dragon. They are still practicing, better at emotions than words. I worry about a lot of things.
I worry with you, Eko says in response.
Tenderness blooms in Iza's heart as they both duck between the trees. She is oddly reassured, somewhat settled by Eko's solidarity. Let's go home, Iza replies, and they both turn their concentration to sneaking through the growing shadows.
Carlisle is waiting for them in the longhouse, closing the door right after Eko slinks inside. His face is sunburnt and his hair blonder than when he arrived, but he is smiling proudly as he points at the table where two large bowls have been placed – one for them to share and one for Eko. "Fish stew," he says confidently. "I did it right."
"Thank you, Carlisle," Iza says, returning the smile with a small one of her own. There is a different pungent scent to the air, less savory and more herby. Her eyes catch on an iron pot cooling near the hearth. "What else have you done?"
"Healing," Carlisle says. He gestures to his face and struggles to find the right words. "To make burn better."
Around a mouthful of flavorful fish stew – and somehow unsurprised that Carlisle is a much better cook than Iza – she manages to comprehend what the second iron pot is for. Iza swallows. "Medicine for your sunburn," she says, then adds on, "This stew is delicious."
Carlisle beams. "Yes. Medicine," he repeats, and then spends the rest of the meal chattering about the herbs he has used, waiting for Iza to gently correct his speech as he outlines his method for making the medicine. Not for the first time, Iza reflects that Carlisle is an exceptionally smart man, even for a Saxon.
It is not until later that night, when the longhouse falls quiet between the soft snores of man and beast, that Iza finds herself gazing out toward the sea. The pit in her stomach is heavy, a leaden weight as she peers through the lopsided window to see the roiling waters beyond the fjords at the bottom of the village.
The stars in the sky are dim, partially covered by wispy grey clouds, and the high tide washes quickly from the shores. But what draws Iza's eye are the heavier clouds on the horizon, their pitch so dark they fade into the sky.
It will rain soon.
She should be happy for the reprieve of the rain, but instead her stomach clenches tightly.
Safety is a strange thing - especially when a change will come.
A/N: Eko just had a glow up, y'all. Now, to put it in perspective, Eko went from being born like the size of a chicken to being the size of a small pig to being the size of like a sheep, which is about hip height on most humans. So now that Eko is cow-sized, she's at least as big as shoulder height. Will she be bigger? Probably not. I'm not writing about Smaug, okay. Since this is a How To Train Your Dragon inspired story, just imagine that fully grown Eko will be the same size as Toothless, who is about the size of like...I don't know, a moose? Whatever.
No Viking things this chapter!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot