A good start
Toothless' sensor lobes hummed in the wind as he screamed through the sky. He was not a dragon, but a blur. His wings did not flap; they vibrated. The wind didn't carry him; it fled for dear life!
He sucked in big, deep gulps of air and pushed himself to his limits, but always felt like he was going too slow. His body burned from the effort, but there would be no rest. Not without Firefly on his back or by his side. Not while everything in this world was all wrong!
Firefly was held captive by miserable land-striders, but it was far too late to question his instruction to get help. The land-striders in his nest would help, but they can't fly or breathe fire. They had those floating wooden vessels, but the enemy had so many more. They would be hardly any help at all.
That left only one other place to turn for allies. The dragons that were formerly under the mind snare of the demonic queen were well aware of who it was that freed them. With nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no guidance beyond instinct, many of them ended up nesting on the islands surrounding Firefly's. Firefly never felt comfortable flying to these islands and approaching these dragons because he was far too humble to let them express their gratitude. The other riders and their dragons followed in his wake.
They would help. They must help. Before taking off, Toothless had sent out a desperate plea, channeling his projections into narrow, far-reaching bands that any dragon would hear, practically begging them to help fight to save Firefly. The invaders floating towards Firefly's nest did not concern these dragons, but Toothless would make sure they remember where they would be if it wasn't for Firefly taking a risk on their behalf. Well, he was driven mainly out of a love for his own dragon, but it's not wise to get lost in such details.
Seeking help from these dragons actually wasn't Toothless' idea. Dragons are very good at observing and remembering and making logical deductions, but creating new thoughts and taking blind leaps of logic and assumptions was one thing that set land-striders apart. It was Badger, or the Dragon Whisperer as others call him, who devised such a plan.
That still didn't make the weight of this unfamiliar rider feel any less wrong. Though he didn't weigh much more than Firefly, he still was not Firefly. The dragon's rider was Badger and even that admission twisted his gut.
Toothless flicked one of his larger sensor lobes against his rider's face. {This is the second time you've done this to me, Badger. I am flying away from Firefly with a rider that makes a poor substitute. I cannot see him. I cannot hear him. There is nothing for me but blind hope that he survives!}
Badger rubbed the dragon's neck, soothingly. Unlike Firefly, though, such contact was not necessary for communicating, probably because he learned from a hatchling, when the mind was more malleable.
{Don't worry, Toothless. It worked before. It will work again. I know the enemy. They will not harm Firefly because he is far too valuable to them alive. Even injuring him would be a loss to them.}
{You better be right or I will eat you!}
Badger chuckled. {I thought you hate the taste of us land-striders?}
{I would do it for the sake of principle. I really hate flying with you.}
{At least I'm doing a better job than on our first flight together on that night we first met.}
Toothless snorted. {You can hardly keep us steady when we're flying straight. Learn faster!}
Badger actually was a fast learner, but an occasional gust of wind or change in flight direction would cause some instability until the rider figured out how to respond. It was frustrating if the dragon's growling and snapping teeth were any indication. Even though Badger could hear Toothless' instructions, he just didn't have the same instinctive reflexes. Still, Toothless would endure for the sake of his precious Firefly.
Up ahead, what was formerly a speck of land was coming into greater definition. Waves beat against a sheer cliff face that receded to a sandy beach farther along the coastline. Rocky mountains and murky swamps took turns filling up the interior. There's a good reason land-striders never inhabited this island, but it was perfect for dragons.
A large, red dragon flew in close from the direction of the island to join Toothless and they started flying tight circles around each other, which was a lot easier than hovering. She was the kind the land-striders call a nightmarish monster, but a more suitable name for this species would be, "arrogant and easily-provoked dragons that quickly deplete all of their fire before a raid is even close to complete." She was actually an impressive specimen of her species with a body significantly larger than most and glistening scales that rippled over the muscles flexing along the torso. A calm confidence wafted out from her as if there was simply no need to assert her power.
In his slack-jawed gaze, Badger overcompensated in adjusting the tail fin, drawing out an irritated snarl from his mount. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Toothless projected a salutation.
{Greetings, First Contact. Are you the alpha on this island?}
If so, that would be ideal. The other dragons would listen to her and Toothless could speed along his way to the next island. He even extended the courtesy of giving her a name. Dragons don't name every creature, object, and star the way land-striders do and are usually nameless. Declaring a name for a dragon was a noteworthy flattery. If she already had some other name the other dragons use to refer to her - a rarity - she could always correct him.
First Contact replied, showing some surprise at being named. {Yes, I am alpha on this island. We heard your call for help. We do not want to fight the land-strider's war, but we will help save Firefly because you and he saved us. Every dragon able to fly and fight will aid you.}
{I thank you for your willingness to help. That is all I ask; to help Firefly. Would you tell your dragons to follow me as their alpha for a short duration while we rescue Firefly? Organizing dragons against land-strider defenses is what I've been doing my whole life, after all, and my rider is even more familiar with how to deal with them.}
First Contact responded immediately, as if she had considered this already. {I will tell them to obey you as their alpha until the sun sets, Firefly is rescued, or his death is verified, whichever comes first.}
Toothless snarled and whined at the thought of losing is rider, but he understood the necessity for declaring such a possibility. She must have fought hard to establish herself as alpha on this island and she would not want to yield such control without some assurance of getting it back.
Taking another deep breath to compose his thoughts, Toothless warbled his joy at having allies on his side. {I am in your debt. This will help greatly to save Firefly. Having more dragons will only make things easier. I am moving on to the other islands in this area for the same purpose. Please tell your dragons to land on my island, but keep a comfortable distance from the wooden land-strider nests. They are expecting you, but don't let any of them approach you unless they are alone and without any shiny claws.}
More dragons started to approach from the island. Toothless spent another moment that felt like an eternity to his frantic mind explaining to First Contact the signs of non-aggression among land-striders that would indicate they mean no harm. Some of them, like the Beast, may want to approach the dragons to organize the land-striders' efforts and attacking him would not help anyone. With that detail taken care of, he sped off to the next island. This was a good start. One down, three to go.
He grumbled between large gulps of air. This plan will work. It must work.
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Stoick moved through the village, inspecting the warriors and discussing defense plans with the unit leaders. Fishlegs had just flown in again, estimating the enemy fleet was barely a league from Berk. The direction of the wind was certainly a boon as it made the enemy's advance slow.
The chief was still undecided about how to handle first contact.
Surely, it would not be wise to simply allow the enemy fleet to start docking and offloading warriors. Waiting for Dagur to declare some sort of ransom for Hiccup while establishing a foothold for an attack could only lead to disaster. Maybe It would be best to just start with the aggression once the enemy came within catapult range.
It was still hard to believe that Skuf had told his crazy plan through the Night Fury, then through the Rumblehorn, then through Tofa. If it works, maybe they can take the fight out to sea and whisk up Hiccup and chase off the enemy before they even get one boat on the shores of Berk.
And maybe I can become ten years younger just by willing it on myself hard enough.
A loud chorus of dragon roars from above drew his attention to the sky, along with every other Viking in the village. Stoick started counting out loud how many dragons were in this group.
Group, flock, drove, swarm, horde? How about we be traditional and call it a raid of dragons?
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5... 10... 20, something like 40 or 60 I reckon."
The dragons circled once around the village perimeter, following a large, bright-red Monstrous Nightmare, then settled down at the edge of the forest, off to the side of the great hall.
"Stay here," Stoick ordered his unit commanders. "I'll go take a look, but don't allow anybody else to approach. They're still dragons after all; we don't wanna spook the beasts."
As Stoick separated himself from the others and walked towards the flock of dragons, sword sheathed and shield strapped to his back, he saw that lead Monstrous Nightmare take a couple steps forward, eyes fixed on him. Its two legs were bent in a low crouch with its wings resting on the ground, acting as a second set of legs.
The thing was huge! Not Red Death sort of huge, but Stoick never saw a Monstrous Nightmare that large. It radiated grace and strength from every pore of its body. Stoick could just imagine how much Fishlegs would squeal with delight at an opportunity to examine such a dragon.
When he was about thirty paces away, the soft sound of rapid steps could be heard approaching from behind. Stoick was tensed up enough as is without someone mindlessly spooking the lizards. His instructions were not in any way difficult to understand.
Whirling around, he bellowed out, "Can ya not follow the simplest-" He stopped short, though, when he recognized who was approaching. "Tofa! What are you doing out? Get back inside!"
Tofa looked up at the chief and pleaded, "Please, Mr. Beast sir. Dragon Whisperer isn't here and I can hear dragons. I can even hear them without having to touch them. I promise I'll be safe."
Stoick hesitated, looking back at the dragons which haven't budged, then to Tofa. He made eye contact with Gobber and Spitelout, off in the distance, who just shrugged. With a sigh, he scooped up the little girl in one arm, sitting her on his broad shoulder as he resumed his trek towards the newcomer dragons.
Tofa squealed with giddy excitement. "Thanks, sir! I'll be a good tralalator!"
"Translator," Stoick instantly corrected. "Just know that if any one of those beasts so much as twitches, I'm running you to the great hall myself."
The Monstrous Nightmare shifted its weight uneasily and curled its lips when the chief was about five paces away.
Stoick tsked and said, "Well, I love you too, dragon. If you don't like my sword, then too bad. You dragons call these shiny claws, so I'll make you a deal; you remove all your claws and I'll remove mine. Or we'll make life easier and I promise I won't hurt you if you return the favor."
The curl of the dragon's lips lessened, but Stoick still had the impression that it was very nervous near him. He had no clue why, though, as he was wearing chainmail. It's great in combat against other Vikings, but if that dragon spews fire, it'll trap the burning goo like a honeycomb and he's toast. Literally.
A voice whispered down from over his shoulder, "I think she trusts you, sir. She's just curious. She recognizes you, I think, but Toothless told her to not allow more than one to approach. Tell her I don't count as a second person."
The chief chuckled at that and spoke up for the dragon. "What she said. You dragons ain't the only creatures who can carry a rider on ya."
The Monstrous Nightmare's torso heaved as it made a strange cawing noise that Stoick could only imagine must have been laughter. Even after almost two years of having dragons in his village, the very notion of talking to a dragon like it was some... person... just seemed so awkward. The thought of them responding in a way that was not animalistic just seemed so unnatural.
"Anyway," Stoick continued, consoling himself with the thought that he was just talking to Tofa and she was translating into their speaking without words or whatever, "Welcome to Berk. Thank you for coming. You're here to help save Hiccup, right?"
The dragon cocked its head to the side as it regarded the chief and his "rider".
Tofa jumped in, helpfully. "He means Firefly, Ma'am. You're here to help save Firefly? She says yes."
Stoick nodded. "Good. Most of us are friendly with dragons nowadays, but it would be best to try to avoid rubbing shoulders with every Viking on this island."
He also made a mental note to make sure nobody would use the catapults if any dragons were nearby. Also, he had no clue what would motivate these dragons to come or what they would be expecting in return. Fish? That could be arranged. If every dragon wanted a rider, well… Berk is only so large and dragons eat a lot...
After a moment of staring at the dragon, Stoick thought he recognized a small scar on its maw and a smile spread across his face. "I think I recognize you, dragon. You're the one who tried to kill Hiccup after he shot down the Night Fury."
The dragon curled its neck and jerked its head back, shifting its weight uneasily. The chief could only chuckle at the voice next to his head.
"Sir, that's not fair! She was under the Red Death's mind snare and-"
"I know," Stoick cut her off, laughing. He waved a hand at the dragon dismissively and said, "I wasn't trying to make accusations, just reminiscing about old times. I actually have a scar on my knuckle to match the one on the dragon's lip."
Stoick held up his broad hand, brushing a white scar at the base of his ring finger. For some reason, talking to a dragon was easier when the topic was the raids. "I think your tooth poked through your lip and into my hand when I hit you. Ah, it was a fun night, that was. Good times. Gods, how big you've grown since then. Figured you was young. The look of surprise and shock when you ran out of fire was priceless. We'll call it a draw if that'll get me out of a rematch."
The Monstrous Nightmare threw its head back and gave out a cawing sort of laugh. The other dragons gathered around seemed to respond similarly, but more hesitantly. Stoick found it to be quite the creepy experience, but Tofa's face lit up.
"Anyway," Stoick said, "You dragons sharpen your claws and straighten your scales or whatever you do to prepare for a fight. I'm going to go take care of my men. I bet Skuf and Toothless will be along soon to direct you."
As the chief turned and started to walk back to the village, a heavy footstep thudded from behind. He whirled around, fingers reflexively wrapped around the handle of his sword, but he pulled his hand away when he saw the dragon was doing nothing aggressive. It just stood right in front of him, extending its neck forward.
Stoick knew what the dragon wanted. He extended a hand and looked at it thoughtfully. There was still that fight within to allow himself to touch one of those scaly beasts. He just pretended that he was reaching out to touch Snotlout's Monstrous Nightmare. The fact that he was desperate for help in saving his son, held hostage somewhere out at sea, may have bolstered his confidence, too.
The dragon extended its snout forward to touch the hand and Stoick tried to suppress the shudder that ran through his spine on contact. The scales were cool and smooth. Puffs of warm air from the dragon's nostrils rolled over his arm and body. He felt that sensation he has come to associate with touching dragons, that hint of insight lingering on the threshold of perception. It was enough to suppose the dragon felt curiosity regarding him and the little girl on his shoulder. Stoick's own concern for Hiccup felt like it took on a slightly different tinge, supposedly some sort of feedback or something like that. Regardless, it was encouraging to know the dragon also cared about Hiccup. There probably wasn't a single dragon in the world that doesn't simply love that boy and act like a lap dog around him.
Stoick allowed his hand and the dragon's snout to drift apart. "Anyway, thank you for offering your aid in getting Hiccup back. I'll take care of my village; we can hold our own. Hiccup's safety is the only thing I'm concerned about." That last part was actually a lie, but Stoick really didn't want to push his luck.
He suddenly noticed that Tofa was leaning forward on his shoulder, supporting herself with one hand on the back of the chief's head while reaching the other towards the dragon. The Monstrous Nightmare lifted its head to the girl's height and started to extend it forward, but Stoick reflexively tensed up and took a step back.
The dragon froze. There was a long, awkward pause, filled with a lot of standing and staring.
Tofa let out a light sigh. "She doesn't blame you, sir. She is very large, after all. She must appear very imposing and scary."
"What?! Well, listen here, you-"
Stoick took a step forward to close the distance again and twisted to the side so the shoulder supporting Tofa was extended towards the dragon. She reached out and the Nightmare extended its neck to make contact with the girl's hand.
Tofa squealed with delight and giggled. "First Contact? My name is Butterfly. Well, I guess it's really Tofa, but Mr. Skullcrusher calls me his little Butterfly. It's nice to meet you, too, First Contact."
The chief was about to comment on such a strange name, but gagged on a breath of air exhaled from the dragon. He waved a hand in front of his face to get some fresher air and said, "Gah! If you ever run out of fire, just breathe in your enemy's face and that'll knock 'em dead."
The Monstrous Nightmare did that weird dragon laughing thing again as Stoick spun around to head back to the village.
"Sir, may I stay here with the dragons?"
The chief halted and looked over to his "rider". He slowly turned around and glanced at the dragons milling about along the outskirts of the forest.
"I know you like dragons a lot, little missy, but no. We don't know what they're like."
"Pleeeease, sir? The dragons would never harm me and First Contact said she would protect me from any threat."
Stoick rolled his eyes at the Monstrous Nightmare, which hadn't moved at all, yet. "I just hate it when kids give me the puppy eyes and use that pleading, whining tone of voice."
With a sigh, he lowered Tofa off his shoulder and set her on the ground and said, "You can stay for now. I'll send someone to take you to the Great Hall before we start mobilizing to deal with these invaders. Agreed?"
Tofa beamed a smile back at the chief, she said, "Yessir!"
"No flying. Promise?"
Without a moment of hesitation, Tofa spit on her hand and extended it up towards the chief. Stoick wasn't phased at all as he used to do that as a child and returned the gesture. The dragon tilted its head at such a display.
Satisfied with the plan, Stoick turned about to jog back to the village. These dragons would be a great boon in rescuing Hiccup, who must surely be on one of those ships. The more he thought about it, leaving Tofa with the dragons as some sort of liaison would help them feel more comfortable here and, hopefully, strengthen their resolve to make sure the rescue effort succeeds.
After all, Stoick told himself, battles are determined by the heart of each individual fighter more than the size of an army or the weaponry involved. Hmm, since when did I equate a dragon with a warrior?
Another chorus of roars sounded out overhead as another group of dragons settled down near the first. Stoick saw the large Monstrous Nightmare, with Tofa onboard, move over towards the new group, presumably to get them caught up to speed with their unspoken words.
Hang in there, son. We're mobilizing the most impressive dragon raid Berk has ever seen.
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Throst looked out towards Berk. What was once a speck on the horizon was starting to take shape. The wind that whipped his shoulder-length black hair and fluttered his scalemail armor was definitely blowing the wrong direction. The masts groaned under the load and the sails whipped around. He had told Dagur that they should tack over to the West before their final approach so that the wind at their back would give the enemy less time to react after spotting them. However, that would have delayed the attack and patience was not the deranged chief's strongest suit.
Throst fished his spyglass from the satchel slung around his torso, but scowled at the film of charcoal dusting the lens and caked into the crevices. It must have escaped from the wrappings and deposited inside the spyglass. He gently tapped the tube against one of his iron vambraces to knock out the loose bits, carefully removed the lens, and wiped it on the inside of his sleeve. Looking through the spyglass, he could discern some more detail of the landscape in front of the fleet.
Jagged cliffs rose up over the harbor, offering an easy place for the invading army to dock their ships... and then endure a suicidal climb up steep, jagged pathways to the top of the cliffs on which the village was situated. Of course, there was a lot more coastline than what lay just beneath the village, but the warriors would have to trudge through the dense forest and through or around deep ravines. If the Hooligans set fire to the forest, that would delay the attack until the next day at the very least. Throst made a mental note to watch out that his warriors don't get trapped in a burning forest by extending too far in without securing the perimeters.
Looking around, though, things were looking very good. This was, by far, the largest invading force the Barbaric Archipelago has seen in centuries. Over 4,000 warriors on 127 ships were eager to fight. The Hairy Hooligan tribe had about 700 Vikings total, but after taking out women, children, the elderly, and the infirm, probably 400 warriors at best. However, Berk had dragon riders and everyone wanted a slice of that pie for themselves. Unfortunately, that was where their allies stopped thinking.
An ally to a conqueror is simply the last victim.
The hostage held underneath the deck could prove to be very advantageous. Hiccup sure was a lucky find. Throst just happened to be stationed on an island along the approach to Berk ahead of the fleet when the boy simply dropped down from the sky on the dragon's back. He quickly got over his shock and motioned for his men to remain hidden while observing as discreetly as possible.
It was an almost unbelievable sight to behold. The dragon was growling and pacing back and forth, wings unfurled, teeth gnashing. The boy simply shouted at his dragon, saying something about doing what's right instead of what's safe.
Kids these days.
When Hiccup somehow knocked his beast unconscious, Throst just couldn't resist. He had all his men rush forward to secure the rider and his pet dragon. As expected, taking the boy was easier done than said. What definitely was not expected, though, was for the damned dragon to wake from its slumber so quickly. In literally the blink of an eye, it killed a good warrior and gave burns and broken bones to a few more. Surprisingly enough, it flew away after Throst jabbed his dagger at the boy's throat. Throst regretted holding the boy while the dragon escaped. Maybe if he had grabbed a bola instead, he could have bagged the beast.
Hiccup had received a broken rib, cut lips, and a lot of bruises as he was hauled to the flagship. He didn't put up any fight, but after seeing what his pet did, it was hard to find the resolve to take him alive. Breaking some arms and legs sounded tempting, but such would have to wait. Knocking him about with his prosthetic leg would have to suffice for now.
Still, The little brat was a fortuitous bargaining chip. A gift from the gods and an omen of their support, one might even say. If that was the sort of loyalty this so-called "dragon master" can coax out of the beasts, though, then this mad hunt to find a way to control the dragons may not be all it was cooked up to be. Regardless, before any fighting even begins, Dagur could negotiate with Stoick for the release of his son, demanding some sort of ransom. Maybe the drugs and interrogation going on below deck will yield some good information. Maybe they will secure Berk's cooperation.
Then again, there are thousands of warriors spread out on over a hundred ships. They all have dreams of burning Burk to ash and flying dragons home. Would they even heed the horn call to halt or retreat if a truce has been established? It would take only one fool to start it all, then another would follow, then the whole damn collective army is charging in, drowning out the shouting of the commanding officers to hold their ground.
This confrontation will no doubt just turn into a direct assault. They will sack the village and squeeze every last dragon secret out of them. first contact will be very bloody and the Hooligans will have terrain advantage, but no jetty can hold back a tidal wave. They may have dragons, but only seven, not counting twenty Terrible Terrors. The Hooligans will fall for sure, but not without taking many warriors down with them.
However, if the impossible happens and the attack fails, the consequences could be very dire. The Hooligans would be royally pissed off and they would fly their dragons to attack Berserker island. With almost all able-bodied warriors sent on this assault, their homes were relatively defenseless.
There's no way that could happen, though, even though the element of surprise has already been lost. That annoying Gronckle rider was seen three times today, spying on the fleet as they made their way across a side-wind towards Berk. The first time they saw it, the dragon got close and they attacked, but for a flying boulder, it could move pretty fast and just dodged the ballista bolts and bolas.
A thought came to Throst's mind for the next confrontation. If he could find a way to load a bola into a ballista, that would make a fine dragon-slaying weapon. Harder to dodge than a thrown bola, easier to hit than a ballista bolt, and he may even capture the dragon alive. Why has nobody tried that before? If it works, he would instantly become famous and wealthy. Dragon trappers everywhere would line up for such a weapon!
Sadly, that thought hadn't struck anyone prior to this attack.
Throst went below deck to take his mind off the matter. As he descended the steep stairway to the ship's hold, he saw Dagur pacing in front of Hiccup, who slumped in a chair. The boy was high as a cloud on gods-know-what sort of drugs the healers brewed up. He gave a giddy laugh every time Dagur struck him. At least he wasn't crying over that stupid Terrible Terror with the broken leg and wing. Well, two broken wings, now. Threatening to hurt the dragon even more didn't draw out the information Dagur wanted from the boy and following through on the threat didn't make things any better. It wasn't that he suspected the boy was lying, just that the answers weren't what he wanted to hear.
"Dagur," Throst greeted, "We are on our final approach to Berk and will soon be within catapult range."
"Ohhhhh, haaaiiii theeeerrre," Hiccup dragged out in a drunken, singsong voice. "Yooou hiiiiit meeee aaaannnnd brrrrooooooke myyyyy rrrriiib. Thhhhaaaannnkssss! Aaaiiii haaaaated thaaaat riiiiib aaaanyyyyywwwaaaaayyyya."
The boy's dilated pupils could barely be seen behind all the puffed up skin around his eyes. He looked tired and hyper at the same time, often switching between extreme emotions. His voice was quite a bit higher than normal and he spoke with a heavy lisp, slurring his words together. Speaking seemed to require all of his concentration.
Dagur kicked the boy's good leg in the shin in frustration, causing him to cry out in pain as he collapsed to the floor, then suddenly burst out laughing uncontrollably. The Berserker chief threw Hiccup's prosthetic leg in irritation. It hit the boy solidly in the stomach, causing him to gasp for air as he continued to dry-heave in his maniacal laughter.
"He should be LOVING me!" Dagur shouted, living up to his title of 'your derangedness'. "He should be telling me EVERYTHING I ask! All he says is that nobody can control dragons. At least, not since the Red Death was destroyed. HOW do you make them OBEY?!"
"Loooooove," Hiccup wheezed out after recovering his breath. "Giiiiiive Fiiiiish, nooooot aaaaaax."
"No good!" Dagur shouted. "Tried that. Gave a fish to a Nadder and it tried to bite my hand off. KIlled it in front of the other dragons, but always the same. I want a Red Death. Give me a Red Death! I WANT IT NOW! Where can I find a Red Death?"
Hiccup stopped licking the floorboards to look up sideways at Dagur with a stupid grin plastered on his face. "Tooooothhhhleeeesssss kiiiillled iiiiiiiittta. Aiiiiiiiyyye heeeeellllped."
"Toothless?! I don't CARE about your stupid dragon!" Dagur screamed, kicking Hiccup in the back. The boy yelped. "I'll make YOU toothless if you don't tell me! Where can I find more Red Deaths? WHERE?! I'll even settle for a Red Death egg. It must have a spawning ground somewhere. TELL ME NOW!"
"Yooooou weeeere theeeere. Whaaa diiiidyoouuuu fiiiinda?"
"Nothing!" Dagur spat in frustration as he paced in front of the hostage. "There was nothing there. NOTHING! Dead dragons. Broken eggs. A lot of rocks and a big hole in the ground leading to – I don't know where. Maybe I'll drop YOU down the hole and you can tell me what you see down there."
"Thaaat soooundssss fuuuunnnna. Toooothleeeh caaatch meeeee. Tooothhh loooveeeesss meeee."
Dagur kicked Hiccup's neck in frustration. The boy curled up and gagged.
"If you mention Toothless ONE more time, I'll break your neck! In fact, I think I'll do that right now, anyway, you worthless little toothpick!"
Dagur wrapped the fingers of one hand around the boy's neck, lifted him up so his feet dangled off the floor, and pulled out a dagger.
"Dagur," Throst snapped. "Sir, this boy is a powerful bargaining chip. We can use him to garner information from the Hooligans. Maybe they know things Hiccup does not. But he's worthless to us if he's dead."
And, if the hostile terrain, hostile Vikings, and hostile dragons send us running for our lives, he will be useful to barter for more favorable terms of surrender.
Suffice to say, Throst was not in favor of taking this particular approach in securing Berk and the dragons. Dagur may be more ambitious than his father, but he's a bit too deranged for a good leader.
"Ya ya," Dagur said, waving off Throst in irritation. He tossed Hiccup into the chair. "Whatever. Come, let us raze these soft barbarians."
The chief stuffed a rag into Hiccup's mouth and tied him to the chair before they ascended to the deck. As the sunlight started to assault their eyes, alarmed shouts sounded out from everywhere.
Throst looked towards Berk. They were almost there.
He looked around. A sea of ships bobbed in the waves, ready for war.
The swarm of warriors gaped at the sky.
Throst looked up. His jaw fell down.
A cloud blotted out the sun. A cloud made of dragons.
A rain of fire fell down from the cloud. Smoke and mist rose up.
Throst's heart sank with the burning ships around him.
Any fireballs or globs of burning fuel that didn't hit a boat hissed in the water, sending up steam and smoke. Everyone frantically scrambled to grab water buckets to douse the flames as dragons disappeared into the thick fog and smoke.
They were so close to Berk. So close! Almost within range to volley flaming stones from catapults and bolts from ballistas. With no visibility, all attack plans sunk. Their siege suddenly turned into a frantic fight for survival.
"Sir," Throst said, "I think we should have invested more effort in diplomacy."
Dagur was nowhere to be found, though. The hatch to the underdeck slammed shut and a lock clicked into place.
Throst grit his teeth. This wasn't exactly a good start.
A/N:
Raise your hand if you like drugged Hiccup. I know I do. Oh, you too? Great! I'll make sure we got more of that, then. :P
Thanks for reading!
Also, thanks for your feedback 10Blue10, KnightLawn, and anhedral. I always enjoy hearing about what sinks and floats your boat. It really is a joy to be part of such a wonderful community of readers and writers!