"Up Right!"
"Up Left!"
Two long, green necks accidentally twined together because both the attached heads made chomps for the sudden air-born fish.
Frostbite gave her younger cousin a miffed look. "Wait until I feed one before feeding the other one!'
Briarprick was obstinate. "If you feed one head at a time, the other gets jealous."
The Zippleback was one of the hardest dragons to keep around the home. It usually hunted for itself, but twice a week it was offered the catch of the day. The Zippleback would never pass up the chance. It was fond of Frostbite's mother and Briarprick's father, one head each more so than the other. However, both heads of the Zippleback adored both little girls.
"That's why we do it at the same time," Briar concluded. She was half-sensible; she was seven years old. Frostbite, four years older at age eleven, considered herself much wiser than her loudmouth cousin.
"Fine, but you throw it that way. I will throw one this way." She nodded to her left then right. They dug into the bucket of the fresh catch that Tuffnut had picked up from the docks and heaved them in opposite directions. The two heads separated but Briar's aim was too far and they ended up straining their long necks.
"No, no, they're gonna rip in half!" Frostbite shrieked at seeing the beast struggle—its heads straining to each go in opposite directions.
Briarprick remedied her mistake by dashing over to the grounded fish, scurrying back and holding it out to the left head.
"Sorry Left! Sorry!" she apologized with sincerity. The dragon took the fish and swallowed it in one slick gulp.
"Are you two done feeding that thing?" they heard Ruffnut shout in question from the Ingerman lodge threshold. She was carrying a basket of clothes, likely going to the stream to wash it, and required one or both of the girls to help her.
"One more round Mother!" Frost answered.
"Okay maybe we could just stand on our tippy-toes and hold it for them? Left didn't eat my hands or anything!" Briarprick voiced a new idea.
Frostbite gave her an apprehensive look. The heads had bitten her brother Splint, as well as Briar's twin brother, Bludegonstick, who seemed to get it at least twice as much. Nothing fatal or serious, just tiny nips that stung and left holes in their clothes. The heads became less reluctant to teach Bludge a lesson the older he got. The Zippleback was not fond of him, mostly because he was mean and he pulled on their back zipples—the soft series of blunt 'spikes' that trailed their necks and back. Her father had named them, so Frostbite liked to call them that too.
"Okay," she agreed and grabbed another fish, holding it up to the right head. Right sniffed and then let out a smog of green gas from its nostrils before whipping its tongue out and curling it around the fish, reeling it back into its scissor-toothed mouth.
Frostbite yelped, not expecting that.
Briar was laughing. She kept laughing as she grabbed the last fish and held it to the left head again. Left snackled its lighter in content and did the same as Right but Briar did not flinch like Frostbite had.
She turned to her cousin right after and teased, "You were scared!"
"I didn't want it to bite me!" she whined.
"It only bites the boys."
Speaking of boys, Frostbite saw Svenan the Younger trying as hard as possible to slip past her lodge without being seen. She thought he was funny, and she did enjoy a grand chase, knowing she would always catch her target in the end.
"Svenan!" she called and waved. Instead of responding he seemed to freeze like a deer that had caught a human scent and hoped it hadn't been seen.
"Auntie we're done!" Frost heard Briar call to her mother. Because Briar was only half-sensible, she didn't realize that she had just volunteered herself to help wash their laundry. Frostbite was tired of chores and excited for a chase.
She advanced toward Svenan but he jerked forward in a desperate sprint. She gave a laugh and followed, wondering what exactly he was up to.
"Svenan!" she called from behind him, reminding him she was at his heels.
"Leave me alone! I have work to do!"
He didn't look like he had work. He wasn't heading toward the docks where he was apprenticed to the shipbuilder.
"I can help!" she offered. Hailstrom Skørne was usually with the boy but even he was absent this day.
"No! Go away!" he called from behind his shoulder.
She stopped, a bit frustrated with his rudeness, and let out a breath to show it. She then squeaked in surprise because, suddenly, she found herself lifted. A dragon head pushed her up and she found herself sliding down a long neck. The Zippleback wanted to play with her.
"We should follow him," she said, pointing after Svenan. The Zippleback wasn't interested and began going in the opposite direction with her.
She was going to lose his trail if they went any further away. He had already gotten far. She figured the dragon liked hunting, apparently just not for fascinating boys. She wondered if she could train it to find Svenan whenever he hid from her…
She gave a shout and jumped off Right's neck, stumbling and catching herself before taking off into a run to see where Svenan was actually going. Last she saw, he was heading toward the wilderness. Boys often liked going in there for their own reasons. To Frostbite, those reasons were still mysteries.
Looking around, the girl realized that couldn't see him anymore. He could have ducked behind a stall or wall, but most likely he had made it to the forest. He was an extremely fast runner; she had to give him credit for that. He could even outrun older boys!
She stopped to catch her breath at the forge, only to swing her head in and greet Svenan's little brother, Stoick.
"Hiya Icky!"
The boy was in his second year of apprenticeship. He was fanning the bellows and abruptly stopped to smile at seeing her.
"Frostbite! Hello! Hi Frost. Bite. Hiya!"
He had a funny little smile, mostly because of the small gap between his two front teeth. She gave a laugh at seeing it. Rune, whom was in charge when neither Gobber nor the chief were present, gave a courteous nod to her but lightly chided the boy for stopping his task at hand.
"I hafta keep the fire up right now, wanna play after?"
"Sure, just come over to my place," she nodded and flipped a braid over her shoulder. "Do you know what your brother is up to?"
"Not sure. I saw him go past, into the forest," Icky confirmed what she knew.
All the more intrigue to Frostbite. She continued forth until the forest edge loomed before her, she didn't usually go by herself in there.
She hesitated for one moment, wondering if it was sensible to follow Svenan into the woods, but her overwhelming desire to know what he was doing pushed her forward.
"Svenan!" she called after a few steps in, she looked behind her and could see the thatched rooftops between the pine needles and leaves of the forest. After a few more steps the sight of the village was no more.
The smells of the forge fires, however, clung to her senses. Then she heard rustling. It could have been an animal or a dragon or a boy.
"SVENAN!" she called louder and a few birds in the treetops above whistled before flying away.
Frostbite wasn't aware of the green eyes following her every move from behind a patch of elderberry bushes, waiting for her to pass.
She made a little whistle that seemed to imitate the birds.
Like that would get me to come out! Svenan thought furiously from his hidden position.
But her whistle had attracted something else entirely. A muscled body of scales suddenly thumped in front of her path and Frostbite was absolutely shocked, as was the boy hiding in the bushes.
It was a wild Nadder—a rogue. It had to have been for it to be alone because Svenan remembered they traveled in groups. As for Frostbite, she knew it was a rogue because her Daddy had told her all about the dragon manual instead of bedtime stories when she was younger—she knew most facts about the Nadderhead species. They had magnificent bright scales of color. Therefore, what shocked Frostbite wasn't that it was alone, but that it was white!
Was it the Pale Nadder Icky had told them all about in his short story-telling career?
The Nadder sniffed at them and opened its mouth, letting out a sharp squawk of a roar. It would surely kill them if Icky was right!
Svenen felt a surge of bravery—or perhaps foolishness—and stood abruptly. "Go back to the village, Frostbite."
He noticed her jump in surprise at revealing his location, but soon was still as a statue.
"It will kill you Svenan—it's the Pale Nadder!" Frostbite answered slowly, not moving a muscle where she stood.
"I'm going to make it leave. Now move out of the way. Dragons don't hurt children, my father says so," he commanded and pulled a slingshot from his belt.
"But Svenan, you're almost thirteen—your child-smell is wearing off! It won't tell the difference."
"That is ridiculous! What 'child-smell?' My dad never said anything about—whoa!" Svenan dodged a quick biting attempt from the Nadder, stumbling backwards until he tripped over a log. His slingshot fell out of hand.
Frostbite had reasoned that, since the Zippleback was more apt to take bites at her cousin and brother as they grew, the child-like nature was fading from them – otherwise it would tolerate the jabs and pokes of a child. Svenan was older than all of them and he would surely die. She couldn't let that happen!
"Back, back!" Frostbite made a shooing motion with a worried heart and concealed it with a frown at the wild firebeast.
She got it enough away from Svenan to sing it to a calm. Her Father also told her that dragons love music, and it soothed them. She hummed a merry song used at the festival celebrations and it seemed to calm the Nadder. Its head spikes relaxed and a round, bright eye studied her.
"Go Svenan, you should leave 'cause it's still aware of you even during music."
Svenan wasn't about to take orders from Frostbite of all people; he jumped up and grabbed his slingshot. With a quick aim he slung a rock at the beast, meaning to shoo it away, but it missed and flew far past.
The Nadder's spikes lifted in alarm and it swung around looking for the small object that had been thrown.
Svenan heard Frostbite scream and looked over his shoulder to see her collapsed to the forest floor. The Nadder gargled in ire and flew away, but not without shooting a loathing glance at the boy.
With the Nadder gone, Svenan jumped over to Frostbite to see what her problem was.
She laid there with a grimace and tears that flowed freely.
"What? What happened?" he demanded impatiently.
"My leg," she whined.
He gazed down and saw that something must have cut her. She was bleeding.
"That's not so bad," he dismissed it, which caused Frostbite to wail, further deteriorating his patience. "Look if you hadn't chased me into the woods this wouldn't have happened!"
She was sobbing now at a high volume, and no matter how he tried to convince himself he should just leave her there to cry out all her tears, Svenan knew it was wrong.
He bent down, shoved his arms under her and lifted her up. She held him around his neck, her tears ebbing into sniffles.
"Are you gonna carry me back?" There was a hint of hope in her voice, as if this all were some elaborate plot that led to him carrying her. Though it was impossible, she couldn't predict a rogue Nadder would set upon them.
"Yeah but not 'cause I want to, but because it's the right thing to do. If I was some jerk I would just leave you here."
"Oh."
"So you can't tell Icky I'm a jerk anymore."
She often did and it annoyed him that the wretched girl controlled his little brother's opinion of him.
She managed a smile. "He doesn't think you are a jerk, and I don't either."
"I don't care what you think about me!" he snapped.
"You're a jerk!"
It would have almost been funny to him that she was such a hypocrite, but he was more angry than anything. Her arms slid away and her weight suddenly fell against him. He looked down to see she had closed her eyes.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
"Stop playing around we're almost back and you can walk yourself!"
He thought for sure that would get her to wake up and start whining. He threatened to drop her but couldn't because it struck him that she might not be faking. What was wrong with her?
He quickened his pace and emerged on the edge of the village. He went straight to her lodge and kicked at the door.
Ruffnut the Terrible answered the door with mucky, wet clay all over her hands and up to her elbows and she didn't look pleased. Her frown increased tenfold when she saw the state of her daughter. Frostbite's leg was swelling and she appeared to be unconscious.
"What happened?"
"We were in the woods and something cut her." Svenan wilted under her intense expression.
Ruffnut's frown lifted immediately and she threw a curse. The boy had a feeling it was serious if the Missus Ingerman looked worried. He considered her one of the toughest vikings in the village.
"Take her upstairs. I have to fetch her father," Ruffnut instructed and left hastily.
It wasn't long until Splint wandered in asking questions, which just hassled Svenan. He wanted to leave but couldn't help but to feel a tiny concern for the annoying girl's predicament. Soon the Master Bone-Carver nearly busted into the room with wide eyes, encouraging Frostbite to wake.
"Sweet Cake? Wake up darling," he said a few times, rubbing her hand with concern until he realized that wasn't working.
Fishlegs then barraged Svenan with specific questions about what had happened. Svenan tried his best to answer but now the memory was kind of hazy...he hadn't paid enough attention. It was all so fast. When he mentioned they had come across a rogue Nadderhead, Fishlegs cursed. It startled Svenan because the man was always so polite and kind. Fishlegs then had Slugwing fetched to inspect the wound. Slugwing concluded a Nadder Spike had grazed her leg, which made sense given its swollen state paired with the facts of Svenan's account.
He just wanted Frost to wake up so he could go home.
He stood in the room, trying not to be seen, wondering if the adults would chide him for leaving since he hadn't been specifically asked to. Did they still need him for something? He watched as more people came in to see the state of Frostbite. Ireth, the healer, was putting salve on the wound when they heard, "She's poisoned. She's going to die."
Svenan tensed at hearing his own father's solemn voice. Not just the tone but the actual words. The Chief must have been called for because he was the expert on Dragons.
Missus Ingerman squished her face tightly before throwing her arms around her husband. Tears were clearly visible in the bone-carver's eyes. "But Hiccup, there...there has to be something..."
"There isn't any cure to the poison of a Nadder spike. 300 years and nothing has ever been found to stop it from spreading and even the best warriors of Berk all succumbed to it in a day or two..." he saw his father look at the little girl with remorse, "but she's just a young one."
Svenan felt an emotional weight hit him. Sure he didn't like Frostbite but...he didn't want her to die! Well, he'd always said he hoped she would—Toothless should have eaten her or something. But not like this! Not for real. He took a heavy swallow and figured it best if he left. He could hear his father's condolences as he exited the room. No one even noticed his departure.
Upon leaving the home, he was surprised to find his little brother at the door, smiling ear to ear while Toothless sniffed him. Svenan knew Toothless would be there because he was with the Chief and was supposed to stay outside of the Ingerman lodge lest he break all of Ruffnut's wares. However he didn't understand Icky's reason to be there.
"Icky? What are you doing here?"
"Frostbite and I was gonna play after I was done at the forge."
"Frostbite is sick," Svenan replied, his heart dropping for poor Icky who didn't even know what had happened.
His brother's smile faded into confusion. "She didn't act sick earlier."
"Well she is now! She isn't ever going to get better!" Svenan shouted forcefully, angry. Toothless's plates bent backward in alarm.
"Why not?" Icky was dismayed.
"I don't want to talk about it," Svenan glowered and started off. He was angry—angry that Frostbite had chased him into the woods. This was all her fault! But if it was all her fault, then why did he feel so...guilty? He heard Toothless start to follow him with concern.
He felt a yank on his hand and looked down to see Icky frowning. "You tell me right now what happened! She is my friend! I know you know because she was following you like she always does."
Svenan told him what had happened, even the fact that it was the Pale Nadder that nobody believed existed except Gobber. He expected Icky to be sad at the news that his friend was most likely going to die. All they could do now was pray for Frostbite. But Icky's expression turned into that of determination.
"We need Nadder spit!"
"What?" Svenan was taken aback.
"Nadder spit makes it better!"
"What? How do you know? How?"
"I saw Storm get into a fight with Cringe one time ago. Cringe released her tail spikes and they hit Storm in the chest! Then instead of dying from poison she just licked her wound and she is still alive!"
Storm was the Nadder that was fond of their mother. Cringe was the same but to Harkin the Huntress.
Svenan gave pause. "Why doesn't anyone else know about this?"
"Because no one ever sees Nadders fight. They do though, over the boy dragons in the autumn."
Toothless seemed to nod in exasperated agreement at Icky's statement, though Toothless didn't understand a lot of human words.
Svenan was skeptical but then again, he never paid the best attention so it could be true. He wondered if Icky was just making it up to feel like Frostbite had a chance.
Icky climbed on Toothless, prompting him to leap forward, past Svenan and back toward home. Svenan broke into a run and got there in time to see the boy run into the lodge. A moment later he came back out holding a fish that looked like was in the middle of being smoked. He heard their mother shouting and paled. Icky had snatched their dinner and Odin only knew what he was doing with it. Toothless bounded after Icky at the sight of the fish.
Around the backside of the lodge he was teasing Storm with it. The Nadder eyed the fish hungrily and Toothless was about nose his way in which made Icky squeal in ire. Storm had her mouth open in anticipation of being fed the salmon. Svenan spied a pool of drool collecting on her tongue. Icky was trying to get her saliva, though Svenan couldn't see how he would carry it – he didn't have a bowl of any sort. He lifted his lip in a disgusted manner at the sight.
Their mother appeared, finding her young thief and threatened to revoke a week of any freetime to Icky if he didn't give her that fish back.
Icky, usually the most obedient child in the village, seemed to ignore her and screamed, "Svenan hold out your hands!"
He did it but didn't know what was going to happen. Icky led Storm closer and at that moment the reservoir of saliva overflowed and dripped onto Svenan's hands.
"Eww!" Svenan gagged and made to wipe his hands on the front of his tunic but Icky grabbed his wrist to stop him.
He quickly handed the fish back to Astrid, which caused both Toothless and Storm to cry in dissatisfaction at being teased with such a delicious morsel. Astrid was calling after them but the boys didn't have time to explain themselves.
"Let's go!" Icky demanded and they took off in a run but Icky was so much slower than Svenan and lagged behind. Svenan then realized Icky meant for him to put the saliva on Frostbite's wound and that thought propelled him to make the same disgusted face. However, if it meant Frostbite would live, then it meant she would follow and annoy him once again. He took a deep sigh and decided he did want her to live. He just never wanted to be bothered by her again.
He quickened pace and was soon in front of the Ingerman lodge once more He shoved open the door with his shoulder and ran to where he had left the troublesome girl. The saliva was beginning to dry and before he could explain himself he pushed through the adults and smeared all the Nadder spit on his hands across the cut on her swollen leg in the manner Ireth had applied the salve.
The blood from the wound had congealed and her skin around the cut was a dark purple.
Svenan could tell Fishlegs was about to yell at him for touching his dying daughter with dragon-spit, and it did seem disrespectful if he stopped to think about it. But Icky hadn't been far off in describing how the Nadderhead saliva healed its poisons. It was a natural antidote and it made sense that the source of the poison had a way to counteract it. It was amazing how fast the salvia took to clear out the poison. Within a few moments the purple color was faded to a blue, the strained veins around her leg were less swollen, and she took in a deep breath—though still unconscious.
Svenan felt himself take a deep breath as well and then noticed everyone in the room was staring at him: Frostbite's parents, the wound expert, the healer, the elder who had arrived to call on the spirits, and even his own father who was there to support his friends in a time of tragedy.
"What did you do?" Fishlegs asked.
"Nadder Spit, it uh...it cures its poison."
"How did we never know that?" Fishlegs turned to the Chief in amazed wonder.
Hiccup was at a loss of words; he just looked at his son proudly with the most impressed expression. Svenan had never gotten a look like that before from his father, not with such intensity. Hiccup was proud that his son had used his knowledge of dragons and had applied it in a most useful way. Though no one knew it was actually Icky's discovery and Svenan, wrapped up in being congratulated and thanked, forgot to credit his little brother for the find.
Credit didn't matter to Icky though, what mattered was that his friend Frostbite was going to live.
A/N: Sorry all. Issues with finding a Beta, and break ups, and losing jobs and whatnot. Thanks to AnticRepartee it got a good dose of editing. Seriously, Antic is a rockstar.
Rune and Ireth characters belong to Yamilink DeviantArt