seventeen
It is midday when the sky, dark with heavy grey clouds, lights up with a burst of lightning followed by a boom of thunder – just the once, an opening for the deluge of rain that suddenly pours from above. Iza is just leaving the Great Hall after checking in with the village Elders and finds herself among those who are immediately drenched. She hastens back to the awning of the Great Hall, intent to wait out the rain so as not to catch sick.
For just a moment, her mind reaches back to the last heavy rain – the storm that earned her scars and a dragon egg. The thought is there and gone so quickly that it almost doesn't matter.
But it does matter – human intuition is nothing to sneeze at.
In the next moment, a chorus of familiar screeches fills the air and Iza's gaze snaps back toward the sky, where a dozen dragons are breaking through the thick clouds. There is a sinking in her stomach, lead and iron and dread. The rain pours heavily from the sky, a heavy downpour paving the way for the dragons shrieking from above – already they begin to circle and dive as the villages scream and clamor for their weapons.
Iza spares a single fleeting thought for the grazing flocks of animals, plump after a summer of eating and trapped beneath metal cages. But her mind leaps, making other connections, and before she can command it, her feet are already slipping through mud as she dashes through the rain toward her home at the top of the hill.
There is some time – not much, but some – for her to get home and – and do something before the dragons come. They are not far as she looks over her shoulder, but they are also not on top of the village, either. She has time.
Breathless, Iza crashes through the door of her home with her heart beating hard against her ribcage. There is a clang as Carlisle drops the iron poker he had picked up, a flimsy defense for the impending dragon attack. Iza ignores him, mismatched eyes already locked on a corresponding pair; Eko stares back, head high and alert, the frills around her neck and atop her head standing stiff. Eko's tail sways back and forth. Iza nods, lost for words, and Eko slinks out of the longhouse.
Carlisle goes to follow and Iza almost stops him – but something stops her, something outside of herself prompts her to move and speak. So she grabs her God-gifted bow and her God-gifted quiver and she says, "Medicine," and watches as Carlisle scrambles for the pouch he's been painstakingly putting together for weeks. He pulls it around his waist and follows Iza out of the house, obviously scared but brave enough to put his own fear aside.
"Stay behind us," Iza orders shortly. "Tend to those who need you."
Carlisle nods, a determined set to his mouth.
And Iza, without a moment to pause and think or rethink or hesitate, slings her leg over Eko's back, right above the joint of her wings. She settles between the frills along Eko's spine, finds her balance, then then mentally urges Eko to go – all the while her eyes are unblinkingly set on the dragons now flying over the village, gas and fire and acid dripping from their maws.
Iza does not know what possesses her – because the very last thing Iza considers herself is a brave warrior. She is not a Valkyrie. She is not the warrior princess Sif who shears the harvest and protects her husband's blind side. She is not anything but Iza, a girl who is bonded to a dragon.
But there is something guiding her, something that is foreign and familiar. She feels detached from herself, but also more herself than she has ever been. It is the same feeling that led her to find Eko's mother, that led her to cradle a dragon egg to her breast, that allows her to listen to Alise and unflinchingly pursue her own destiny.
And it is the instinct she now allows to guide her as the nocks an arrow on her bow, taking aim even as Eko's powerful wings pump again and again, raising the both of them into the sky. Iza hardly notices that she is in the air, riding a dragon and so far above everything she has ever known or touched. If her belly swoops in time with Eko's wings, then she hardly notices. All of her attention is saved for sending an arrow through the wing of the dragon heading toward the Great Hall. The dragon crashes to the ground and the villagers take care of the rest.
Iza turns her attention elsewhere, tuning out the sound of battle cries as she and Eko – as one – flit through the air. Eko is fast, faster than any of the other dragons around her, and that is enough to divert many dragons away from the village proper. Eko circle and circles, drawing a wider perimeter of peace around the village as Iza picks off the dragons that are too stubborn to be intimidated by the ferocity of Eko's breed.
There are only a few dragons that fall to Iza's arrow, but she considers it a travesty each time.
Something about being up in the air warps Iza's perception of time. She catches glimpses from above – Carlisle scurrying to help give aid to women and children, Jaspar and Emebor fighting side by side, Edvard throwing himself into the fray with a longsword – but these sights are fleeting. Still, it feels like the tides have turned for this battle –
Except there!
Eko banks to the side in an instant, drawing her wings up to slow their descent as they approach where two dragons have gathered around a pen of animals just outside the village. Even as Eko lands gracefully on the ground, Iza is pulling back on her bow, ready to fire on the dragons who have already killed half a flock of sheep.
Her fingers loose the arrow – but at the last possible second, Iza jerks the bow to the side slightly and her arrow lands harmlessly between the two dragons.
For a moment, Iza almost cannot believe that she had not taken a killing shot that was right there. But then she understands it, a slow-rolling emotion building in her chest that does not belong to her.
Eko did not want Iza to kill the dragons.
Why? What did Eko notice that Iza did not?
She takes a second look and understands.
It's not something she would have noticed before Eko, but now she does. Iza is familiar with what a heathy dragon looks like – and these dragons are gaunt, more scale and bone than muscle. These dragons are hungry, starving even, and although they are dragging cages off the charred animals, they are not eating.
Why wouldn't a starving dragon eat a fresh kill?
Something is not right, she thinks and feels Eko's agreement at the edge of her thoughts.
But while Iza and Eko have stalled their offensive attack, the two dragons have not. One spits fire at Eko – and it marks the very first time another dragon or anything has ever outright attacked Eko, which is maybe why what happens next is such a shock.
The dragonfire, blue and so very hot, arches toward them. Yet the moment it comes to close, Eko lets out a low, sub-vocal scream and a bubble of amber erupts around her, shielding the both of them from the fire. The amber shield seems to absorb the fire, like cotton taking on water – but then Eko makes the same almost-not-sound and the amber-tinged fire races back to the dragon who had sent it. As the dragon shrieks in pain from its own dragonfire, Eko's wings draw back and her frills stand proudly again.
A silent dare.
The other dragon takes a meek step backward, turns and flies into the sky, quickly followed by its somewhat-charred companion. Any dragons left are quick to follow their example. Iza watches as they all struggle to find strength to rise back into the clouds and then her eyes drop to the burned sheep scattered in the pen.
It is, she thinks, the first time the dragons have not taken any prizes after battle.
But knowing that the dragons are starving, Iza is not sure if she should feel proud or not.
She does not have a moment to spare the thought any consideration because soon enough villagers are gathering around – yelling and crying defamation at Iza, who is still perched on Eko's back. Some villagers are brave enough to charge at them, but Eko's amber shield holds strong, sending the villagers onto their backs as their own attacks reverberate back on them.
And all the while, Iza stares, suddenly dizzy and bereft of that instinct that had guided her through dragonbattle.
She can only stare and breathe – and stare and breathe.
But then a voice rises through the cacophony. "Enough!"
A/N: That's right - Eko can echo attacks. I love a good wordplay, y'all. Wonder who is breaking through the crowd?
Viking stuff for this chapter: Sif. Now, not a lot is known about Sif, other than Loki cut off her golden hair, which is meant to symbolize harvest. Sif is a goddess of the harvest and also married to Thor. But since that seems kind of one-dimensional, I also combined her with MCU warrior Lady Sif, because I do what I want.
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~Rae