XII.
Morning commenced with the squawk of dragons.
Thousands of dragons.
Low throated bellows of Snub-Nosed Hellsteethers collided with the ever-changing parroting caws of Flamehuffers mixed with the groggy grumble of waking Monstrous Nightmares blended with the tiny insect-like buzz of several species of Nanodragons mingled with the croon of Hobblegrunts overpowered by the squawks of Deadly Nadders harmonized by the snores of Hotburples contrasted by the screech of Typhoomerangs. Not for an instant did the noise lull. Constantly, some new draconic conversation would arise, be it the squeal of babies eagerly begging for breakfast or the dissatisfied growl of two elder dragons expressing irritation of the other's presence. From the left sounded several Grapple Grounders in chorus – to the right and further above, the friendly, familiar yap of Basic Browns. So packed were the noises of dragons that not another stray sound would ever be heard; even the screams and shouts of thousands of men would die unheard beneath the ever-present roar. There were dragons, and they were all that were.
This utter cacophony created an unmistakable audial backdrop to an even more overwhelming view.
Hiccup stepped forward to the edge of the cliff and stared as multi-colored flocks of dragons circled through the air as one. They swarmed like interspecies schools of fish over every open space in the air, settled comfortably in any nook and cranny on the cliff sides around him. And even the natural scenery beyond the dragons was breathtaking, the strange contrast between the warm sauna waters below, birthing foliage and moss and a few green-leafed trees, and the crystalline, green-blue icy peaks shooting mountains above even the highest-flying dragons. He stood atop one flat cliff ledge intermediary between the humid, warm waters below and the cold icy cliffs above. It was an enormous space, a shelter, complete with an icy, jagged roof, but with such an expansive ceiling it appeared almost as though the dragons were looping through open skies.
The entire place in a word: breathtaking.
He turned his attention to further along the cliff, where a cluster of roosting Raincutter stared at him, curiously, heads tilting attentive to the side. After taking a deep breath, Hiccup slowly approached. He instinctively reached for his right side where he stowed the hilt of his sword Inferno, yet he touched only empty straps. Vaguely he remembered the Vigilante disarming him during the battle. He must have dropped and lost the sword then. A big loss. But he could still work here. The flames from the sword would have quickly soothed the long-faced Raincutters before him, but he still very well knew how to safely approach a dragon without Inferno, too.
He slowly reached out his hand to the nearest gray-green dragon. Though he tried not to stare directly at the creature – that could make him appear threatening, after all – Hiccup noticed from the corner of his eye that the Raincutter sported a large number of scars and scabs along its muzzle. Wounds from the recent fight at Eret's ship? Hiccup subconsciously touched his forehead, which sported a scab of his own, and reminded himself that he had pretty poorly treated and regarded his own injuries, minor as they were. He should have had more sense than that.
Well, I was dazed enough not to be thinking well, he thought as he waited for the Raincutter to step forward and press its nose into his hand. At least this morning I only have a small headache and can think clearly again.
The Raincutter sniffed his palm. Hiccup did not see it approach, what with his head turned away; but the sound of small snuffles plus the sense of warm exhaling breath on his hand was unmistakable.
The dragon sniffed for a moment more, but then slowly retreated.
Hiccup frowned.
He turned around.
There again stood that strange woman, a few meters away, hands holding onto a long hand-carved staff. Though she crouched like a wary animal, one hand lightly touching the ground with a few fingers, he could tell she would be rather tall upright. Her eyes, though, caught his attention most. As during their first meeting, her pupils remained focused intently on him every instance, never once straying away, perhaps not even blinking as often as they should.
"Uh, hi again," he stammered awkwardly.
Then, for the first time, he heard her speaking voice.
"You shouldn't be here," she said. It was not even a threat, just a hostile statement of fact.
Hiccup glanced around once more at the awe-inspiring location. After waking up in the morning and finding himself alone with Toothless, he and his dragon had stepped forward to explore a bit more of the strange world they landed in, and had come to the edge of this cliff to spy the mass of dragons circling through the center of the ice sanctuary. They had traveled through several rock-littered caves before arriving at the heart of the enormous shelter. Toothless right now was watching nearby, ready to rush up did the stranger make one adverse move.
"If you're the Vigilante," Hiccup said, "then you took me here."
"Not to the middle of the fortress."
"I wasn't just going to stay lying there on that other cliff," Hiccup pointed out. "I wanted to find you. To talk to you."
"What would the son of Stoick the Vast want with me?" she asked. Though her voice remained mostly neutral, Hiccup thought he detected some sort of scathing edge to the final words in her question.
Hiccup frowned. "What – what did you say?" She knows who I am? "Should I know you?"
Her eyes finally left Hiccup to look down at her feet, but only for a short moment. Then they were back, fixedly staring at his face as before. "No," she said. That one word. Her mouth worked, almost as though she would follow it with some other comment, but ultimately closed her jaw and left Hiccup with that unsatisfying, too-short answer.
"Okay," he said, when he finally realized she would say no more. "Thank you for that… information."
She took his snide remark in stride. She appeared not to care she increasingly discomfited him, or elsewise was carrying through with a plan to intentionally disarm him. "Many people know the identity of the chiefs and their sons," she said as simple explanation, "even those of who choose not to be a member of Viking society.
"Now I have a reason to speak to you just as you say you need to speak to me." She straightened her back some to saunter forward to Hiccup, but still somehow appeared to walk more like a dragon than a human. That rolling footstep was more of a Stormcutter's than a Viking's. "And because of that, I took you here."
So she is the Vigilante.
"We need to speak alone –" and she paused "– regarding the future of the dragons."