Disclaimer: If I owned the franchise I would not be writing at 3 am.

Running Away

Most people, especially vikings, don't run away run home. But she definitely was not most people. Or at least that's what she assumed, considering most people weren't traders. Well whatever she was, she knew one thing she had to get away. She jumped over a log and dodged around a tree. She looked over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. Stumbling against a rock she caught herself against a tree causing snow rain on her. Pain ligured in her foot and it was too painful to put weight on. She leaned down and felt around, she hit a nerve and cursed. Her toe was probably broken. She limped over to a rock bushed the snow off and sat down. Just then she heard the voices of pursuit. Despite the pain she jumped up and ran despite the pain. She knew that if she was captured that she would never get the chance to escape again. A yell caused her to looked over her shoulder to see if they were in sight. A crash caused her to looked again, she couldn't see them but they were close and could easily catch up to her in her condition. Despite this she kept putting one foot painfully in front of another. She looked again and stepped into space. She cried out and fell.

Bucket and Mulch heard the cry and ran faster to the edge of a cove. They looked around but didn't see the runaway girl. Then they looked down and saw Astrid lying at the bottom of the cliff face down in the snow.

"Is she...dead?" Bucket asked.

Mulch didn't answer but motioned for bucket to move away from the edge.

"Well?" Bucket asked again.

"Yeah" replied Mulch, "we do not tell Snotlout about this"

"Why not?"

"He would have us killed if he found out that she died. So we just say she got away from us" answered Mulch

This impressed upon Bucket, the seriousness of the situation and he nodded. The two men made their way back through the forest.

The stranger waited till he was sure the Berkians were gone. Then he walked out to the form on the ground. He assessed the damage the fall had caused her. She had one leg lying at an unnatural angle and he right arm was definitely broken. She had small cuts and lacerations on her face and arms. She looked rather beautiful, even maybe familiar. He hunched down and looked at her face. A thought struck him, she looked really familiar. But that probably meant nothing. He knew nor remembered much from his past life. Taking a measured glance up the cliff he marveled at her condition. The cliff had to about seventy feet, the fall should have been fatal. He started, he had been thinking again. His manners were beyond forgivable, leaving her unconscious, broken and in the snow. Carefully he slid his arms under her and picked her up with relative ease. She was light to him and it was not hard for him to make the short twenty yards to his door. He managed to open it without setting her down. As he walked to his room he was tempted to wonder if this really was who he remembered. Logically it didn't make sense, but logic was really never the driving force on Berk. He looked around his room, his cot was the only piece of actual furniture in the small room. However the room was far from empty, drawings and ideas were tacked to most of two walls. There was a small alcove carved out of one wall, forming a unique kind of desk. There was also a small fire in a small fireplace that crackled with spunk.

Tenderly he set her on the cot next to the small fire. He collected four straight sticks and some bandages. Carefully he set her broken limbs straight and made a splint for each one. Next he cleaned and bandaged each cut. Then he removed her boots and set them on the floor. After that he gently covered her with a fur. He tossed a couple logs on the fire and sighed. She was going to be in pain when she woke up. He sighed again and grabbed his heavy fur vest, even though it was winter he might still be able to find some herbs to ease her pain. He paused at the door, Would she be alright? He shook his head, if he stayed there wasn't much he could do for her, however, if he went he could maybe really help her. He pushed his heavy wooden door open and was met by a Berkian winter wind. He pulled his scarf up over his nose and ears in an attempt to shield them from the cold. He trudged out closing the door behind him.

He lets out a long whistle that morphed into a humanish kind of warble. A black scaly shape bounded up to him out of the winter fog. "You enjoy your flight bud?" He said as he scratched the dragon's chin. The dragon warbled and nuzzled the man's hand. The dragon sniffed the man's hand and looked back at the man, cocking his head. "You smell her don't you?" The dragon smiled at the man. "She's going to be in pain, so we need to get something for her."

The black dragon turned and grunted for the man to get on its back. It could not and probably never would understand the man's words. However the dragon did understand the feelings behind them. They usually flowed with how his human was feeling. Right now his human was worried and it felt like probably for more than one reason. That did not surprise the dragon, the thing that always surprised him was that his human was always willing to help. That in itself was incredible for a viking but his human helped without condition. The dragon had heard it in his voice. He was going to help her, whoever 'her' was.

The man pulled his leather riding scarf up over his nose and leaned down to whisper in the dragon's ear. "Lets have some fun." Dragon and rider exploded of the ground in one powerful, graceful movement. The sudden change in velocity sent G-force tremors through the man. The pair spiraled on a completely vertical path, the rider's legs holding onto the fling beast with a perfect, gentle, firmness learned through countless hours of experience. His hands rapt steadfast to the dragon's neck and shoulders. With a slight nudge from his knee the beast stopped its upward thrust, he looked at the ground some thousand feet below. The world seemed stationary for one moment, then physics slowly took his weight from him and his dragon as they began their dive. Weightlessness was his favorite feeling in the world, nothing compared. He had felt it so many times, but it was never familiar. It was always new and invigorating, haunting him in his sleep and chasing his thoughts, telling him to come back and rediscover the depths of the feeling of being absolute he felt while weightless. It both made and broke him and his dragon, both seeking adrenaline filled thrills and the deeper meaning of the unique bond between man and dragon.

The man eased himself to readiness and the dragon extended his wings in a swift action. The man felt his weight come rushing back three times over and their downward momentum was changed forward. They went rushing out over the cold northern sea into a maze of sea stacks. The man closed his eyes letting the dragon guide him through the towers of grey, wet rock. Slowly the dragon began to rise again, gaining altitude till they were above the stacks. The dragon tilted his wings for drag letting one large stack slow till it was beneath him. He set them both down carefully and warbled in contentment. The man pulled down his scarf and took a deep breath of the cold winter air. He smiled at his friend and dismounted. There was work to be done.

Bucket and Mulch stumbled back into the village long after the sun had gone down. They made there way uneasily through the village to the great hall. Mulch pulled on one of the large doors and resented the creak that reverberated through cavern. They creep softly inside the empty hall, glancing at the tables for leftovers of the villages supper. They carefully made there way past all the tables till they had reached the back of the hall. There was a giant fireplace that was used to keep the hall warm. There also was a man standing and gazing into the coals of the dying fire. The two vikings stopped short when they saw him. They began to turn, the man raised his hand and they stopped. "Report." the man's high clear voice sounded through the empty hall.

"We lost her," Mulch said.

The man turned and looked at the two men. "Why are you late then."

"We got lost"

"Then I suggest that you looking for her again, very soon. You have a lot of work to do now that you probably can't find where you lost her."

"Why are we doing this again?" Bucket asked.

The man turned back to the fire and let the question hang for a while.

"Because, I need her."

So that was the first chapter in a possible story, I do not know where or not i should spend significant time on this. So if you happened to read all the way to the bottom, I would really appreciate it if you were to leave a honest comment on what you thought. I know this chapter is not a lot to go on but it really would be awesome. So if you think this story should or shouldn't be continued It be great to know (Just be kind;). Thanks to people who read this, have a good day.

nerdT14