Dimmadreki Chapter 3

"What's your name, handsome?"

Hiccup had never been the smoothest operator with the ladies. In fact, it couldn't be said that he'd ever "operated" at all. Now, for the first time in his life, a female was putting moves on him, and all he wanted to do was scream and run. He very strongly preferred his females to have only two legs, and the scales were definitely optional.

"Uhh... uhh..."

She made a face that might have been a smile. "Hey, relax – I won't bite! Not much, anyway, and I'm sure you won't complain. I'm Myrkrid. You are...?"

"Uhh... Hiccup."

The female sat down hard; she looked irritated. "Hiccup? What kind of a name is that?"

"It's... it's the name my father gave me. It was supposed to scare the trolls away."

"You're talking nonsense!" she snapped. "Why would a Night Fury worry about trolls?"

"It's because..." He paused. Should he tell this strange dragon the truth? He'd never been a liar, and he didn't think this was a good time to start. "It's because I haven't always been a Night Fury. In fact, I was a human until around this time last night."

She spun around and smacked him in the face with her tail, hard. "Listen, whatever-your-name-is, I've been searching for someone like you for six long years! The last thing I want to do tonight is play whatever your stupid game is! Now get your tail off the ground and show me how you can fly! You might be the only male Night Fury within a thousand miles of here, but I'm not mating with you until you show me you can do it!"

Hiccup was stunned, both from the blow (which would have flattened most humans) and from the implications of what she was saying. He'd told her the truth, and she didn't believe him! Of course, if someone had told him a similar story two days ago, he wouldn't have believed it either. He could still barely believe it himself. And then there was this talk about... mating? How could she talk so casually about such a personal subject? She didn't even know him, and she was suggesting that he... He squirmed at the thought. He was not turned on by reptiles! Not even a little! Even if it was Astrid making such a suggestion, he would have resisted – that's not how Vikings did these things! You were supposed to be married first! He could never marry a dragon, no matter what was at stake, but especially not this one! This could be the very dragon that blew up Berk's catapults last night! Marry a dragon? The idea was so...

He backed away a few steps and then sank to the ground, overwhelmed. "What is your problem?" she demanded.

"This must be a Thorsday," he said dazedly. "I never could get the hang of Thorsdays."

She stomped over to where he was lying and glared down at him, her face about a foot away from his. "Look," she began. "I think of myself as a reasonable dragon. I know I'm new around here, and there's a lot I don't know. Maybe you're playing hard to get; maybe you're just shy; maybe you've already got a mate and you're trying to spare my feelings. I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. But I'm a female, you're a male, and the Night Furies need what we can make together. We don't have the luxury of letting our emotions get in the way. I can't do that, and neither can you. Now, please, for the good of our species, get yourself up in the air and let's do what we have to do!"

"I can't do that," he whispered. He closed his eyes and waited for the blow.

She poked his muzzle with her own, which startled him into opening his eyes again. "In Tannin's name, why not?" she demanded, but her voice had lost its sharp edge. "I know I'm fairly good-looking. I know I'm fertile. It's the right time of the year. I never heard of a male refusing a mating flight unless he was sick or injured, and you don't seem to be either. Give me three good reasons why we can't mount up to the skies right now!"

Hiccup took a deep breath. "One: I don't know how to fly. Two: I'm just not into reptiles. Three: it's hard to think about passion when I'm starving. I could probably keep going, but... can't we talk about something else?"

"There's nothing else worth talking about," she snapped. "But I feel like I'm going in circles, and I don't like that. Only carrion-eaters are supposed to fly in circles. For starters, what's this nonsense about you not knowing how to fly? You never could have lived to adulthood if that was true."

"I told you – I was a human two days ago!" he almost sobbed. "I know it's hard to believe, I'm still having a hard time believing it myself, but it's the truth! It doesn't matter how much you hit me; my story isn't going to change, because it's the only story I've got!" For just a moment, he found the courage to stare back into her eyes, but the sight of a dragon at such close range was still a scary thing. He closed his eyes tightly. "Believe me, if I could tell you any other story at all, I would! Anything would be better than this nightmare!" He waited for her to say something. All he heard was the sounds of the forest at night. When he opened his eyes, she was gone.

He exhaled deeply. She'd finally given up on him. At last, something had gone right! He doubted he'd get any sleep tonight, but at least he could relax a little. When the sun came up, he'd explore the wild parts of the island some more, and maybe find a place to hide for a while. He needed to do some serious thinking if he was going to stay alive.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard her return. She landed right in front of him.

"You're a stubborn one," he commented. "You'd make a good Viking."

"You're a clueless one," she retorted. "You make a terrible dragon. But I can't afford to quit; I've already spent too much time searching for a free male, and I'm too close to give up now. You say you're hungry? I can help with that part, at least. There will be one less distraction between us." She coughed three times and deposited a codfish on the ground right in front of his nose.

It was a whole, raw fish. It was slimy. It might not be completely dead yet. It had dragon-spit all over it.

It was edible. He was extremely hungry. There was something in the back of his brain, something that felt like a part of him and yet not a part of him, that told him the fish would be delicious.

"Well?" she demanded. "Eat it!"

"Is that what Night Furies eat?" he asked timidly.

She smacked herself in the head with her wing. "Oh, for the love of Tannin! Are you trying to tell me you don't even know what food is? No one could be that clueless!"

"Trust me, I've made 'clueless' my life's work," he said ruefully. "At least, that's what everyone in the village always tells me."

"You're sticking with that nonsense about being human?" she demanded in frustration. "How can you be that dim and still come up with such a fanciful story? None of this makes any sense! Who are you, really?"

"I told you, I'm a human!" he burst out. "I'm Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Stoick the Vast, chief of the village of Berk! I'm a smith's apprentice, part-time inventor, all-around failure, and now that I'm a dragon, I've discovered a whole new universe of things I can fail at..." He fought back the tears. "...and what do I have to do to make you believe me?"

After a few seconds, she put her head right up next to his. "Hiccup, just eat the fish," she ordered him quietly.

He bent down, took the cod in his teeth, put his head back, and forced himself to swallow it whole. He didn't even think about chewing it; it was as though his mouth and throat already knew what to do with a fish. He gulped and blinked.

"Well?" she asked.

"Slimy, yet satisfying," he forced himself to say. "Thank you."

"Do humans eat fish like that?" she asked.

"No, we scale them, remove the bones and the innards, bake them over a fire, pick them up with our hands, and eat them one bite at a time."

She got right in his face. "Okay, so-called human," she demanded. "I just watched you eat that fish like a dragon, like you'd been doing it all your life! Explain that, if you can!"

He backed off half a step. "It... seemed the right way."

She turned as though she meant to hit him with her tail again, but she stopped herself. "Wait a minute! That's it!" she exclaimed. "You say you're really a Viking, right?"

"Right," he nodded hesitantly.

"You turned into a dragon last night, right?"

"Yes." He was getting even more nervous; where was she going with this?

"Did dragons raid your village last night?"

"Yes, they did. I got transformed in the middle of the raid."

"Yes! I figured it out!" she crowed. "You were part of that raid, and you got hit in the head with some kind of blunt Viking weapon! You've lost your memory! When you woke up, there was nothing in sight but their village, so you think you're one of them! It makes perfect sense!"

Hiccup shook his head mournfully and groaned. There was nothing he could say or do that would convince her of the truth now. He had to admit, her theory made a lot more sense than the truth did.

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," she said happily. "I apologize for hitting you; none of this is your fault. Working this out is going to be a trial for both of us, but it'll be worth it. I'll make you a deal, Hiccup, or whatever your real name is." He braced himself; he didn't expect this "deal" to make anything better for him.

"I'll work with you and re-teach you everything you need to know about being a Night Fury," she went on. "At some point, something will jog your memory and you'll revert to normal."

"What if it doesn't?" he interrupted.

"If that's the case, then I'll teach you anyway, so you'll still be a fully-functioning Night Fury," she answered without missing a beat. "You'll be able to fly, fight, catch fish, and do everything else you were born to do. Does that sound fair to you?"

"What's my part of this deal?" he asked nervously.

"You promise to mate with me as soon as you're able, and you agree to stay with me and help raise our hatchling until he or she is self-sufficient. That's only fair to me."

He squirmed inside. "What if I don't like the sound of this deal?"

Myrkrid's face hardened. "I have got to find a male and produce an egg; nothing else in my life matters anymore. If you refuse to do your duty as a Night Fury, then you're of no use to me. I'll leave you here to work out your own destiny, and I'll continue my search. I have no choice."

In other words, either he could couple with a dragon, or he could starve to death.

Maybe he should just walk back into Berk and knock on his own front door. At least his father would kill him quickly and get it over with.

o

A/N
Myrkrid is Icelandic for "darkness."