Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise; if you're on this site, you know the drill. Also, thanks are owed to athingofvikings, who gave me a much-appreciated sounding-board for a few aspects of my planned world-building for this particular crossover; hope you like it.
Feedback: Appreciated as always.
AN: In advance, when I get to the events of the episode I'm rewriting here, I'm adjusting the timeline of events a bit for the sake of narrative ease, but since I'm altering the order of when the Riders experienced these events in the first place, I think it all still works
The Dragon of Wanheda
"So," Gobber looked at Hiccup with a thoughtful smile as they waited around the heated forge, "how did you find that Clarke girl out there anyway?"
"I was following the Skrill after we saved it from the hunters, and found Clarke on an island as she and Griffin were trying to fight off a few attackers," Hiccup explained, carefully watching the warm metal in the forge. The other riders hadn't returned yet, but there was still time for them to intercept the latest hunt Heather had brought to their attention and then come back, so he wasn't going to worry about them just yet, and it made sense to brief Gobber on their new acquaintance.
"And then she came back here?" Gobber glanced out of the forge area towards the just-visible dome, where Clarke was currently going through a few practice motions with a sword.
"Pretty much," Hiccup nodded. "I mean, I spoke with her a bit to work out what she knew about dragons and how she met Griffin in the first place, so since she didn't have anywhere to go, I… well, I invited her to follow me back."
"Really?" Gobber looked at Hiccup with a teasing smile.
"Gobber…"
"Eh, let an old Viking have his fun, lad; we both know ye've been a one-woman man from the moment ye realised girls an' boys had a few key differences," Gobber grinned at Hiccup before he looked more seriously at his former apprentice. "Seriously, though, what made ye bring an outsider here?"
"Firstly, she's not exactly an outsider when she's already training a dragon," Hiccup countered. "Secondly, we've already agreed that we're not going to tell her anything important until we're sure we can trust her; she's been learning a bit about dragons, but we haven't told her anything about the Eye or exactly where Berk is."
"…Yeah, yer father'll be fine wi' that," Gobber nodded in contemplation. "So, based on the way she reacted ter me, I assume Trader's tongue is her main language, but have ye seen any sign that she understands Berkian?"
"Well, she's always looked confused when we're talking in it in front of her, but that aside… not really," Hiccup said, his expression suddenly concerned as a new thought came to him. "I mean, maybe she just hasn't shown us she can understand Berkian, but there's not exactly a reason for her to hide that from us for this long when we haven't told her we're not telling her certain things… and she's keeping a few things from us too."
"She is?"
"She just… well, she's told us a few things, like that her dad was executed and she was part of an expeditionary force sent out by her people before they were ready to land themselves, but the way she told it…" Hiccup shrugged. "I already talked it over with Astrid and Tuffnut, and we all agreed that she's hiding something about her past from us, but none of us think it's anything bad, just something she's not sure how to talk about."
"I see…" Gobber nodded in thought for a moment, before he looked at the metal on the forge. "And when she took you all to this ship o' hers, it was made entirely of metal?"
"The part we saw, anyway," Hiccup said. "I mean, there'd been some damage, so maybe the wooden bits were lost when it ran aground or something, but… I mean, look at this stuff."
"Impressive work, I'll give it that," Gobber said, tapping his hook against the basic Viking shape Hiccup had forged from the metal Clarke had given them. "Light, sturdy, and apparently able to take a fair amount o' heat afore it'll melt itself…"
"I was thinking that we could use some of this to cover a target to test how much damage it can actually take once everyone gets back," Hiccup explained. "I mean, the twins are out on patrol at the moment, but everyone else should be back soon, and it's not like we need Barf and Belch for this; they can't exactly produce the kind of fine attack we need to see what this thing can cope with."
"True," Gobber nodded, his attention returning to the metal. "You think it can be used for armour?"
"It seems like it could be light enough, if I can forge it into the right shape," Hiccup conceded thoughtfully, before he looked back at Gobber. "Anyway, as long as you're here, maybe you could help me refine my ideas?"
"Sure ye want ter be here rather than takin' part?" Gobber looked curiously at Fishlegs and Clarke as the two teens stood beside the large blacksmith.
"Meatlug needs time to finish… preparing the next batch of Gronckle iron," Fishlegs shrugged, indicating where his dragon sat alongside him with a slightly strained expression on her face.
"Gronckle iron?" Clarke asked.
"A super-tough light metal we created a couple of years ago after Meatlug ate a particular collection of rocks, and then ended up losing because I couldn't work out how to make it properly," Fishlegs admitted sheepishly. "Seeing all the metal on your ship gave me a few ideas about how I might be able to refine what I had for the recipe, but I'd prefer to go over it with Gobber later."
"Fair enough," Clarke nodded in understanding before she turned back to Gobber. "And as for why I'm here, Griffin just isn't really the best suited for this kind of target practice-"
Clarke winced as she felt her dragon 'tap' her over the head with his tail from where he lay at the side of the field, but it was undermined by the smile she gave him as she looked over at the dragon. "Sorry, but you know I'm right; metal isn't going to be hurt by hot air even if you will be able to knock it down."
Griffin let out a condescending snort even as he seemed to accept that explanation and settled down again, watching as Snotlout and Hookfang flew down to fire a blast of flames at the target with a loud whoop of victory from Snotlout.
"He really likes showing off, doesn't he?"
"That's Snotlout," Fishlegs shook his head. "He can't resist making a big display of everything…"
"Whereas Hiccup," Gobber added with a certain pride in his voice as the purple plasma of the Night Fury struck the target, "will just get the job done and move along."
"And then the twins just come in and make a mess?" Clarke asked as the Zippleback flew down and stamped all over the now-fallen target, before she noticed something about the two-headed dragon and its suddenly single rider. "Hold on… that's just Ruffnut; where's Tuffnut?"
"Stand back!" Astrid's voice called out from above. "Get that thing back up, and we'll see how this metal holds up to a close-range spine shot!"
"Fire away!" Clarke grinned up at the other girl as she, Gobber and Fishlegs stepped back from the field while the Nadder flew in close…
"Giant… furry… teeth…" a voice muttered from the side, Clarke looking over at the source only for her eyes to widen in shock at the sight of Tuffnut walking up to the target, leaves in his helmet and holding his arm in a pained manner.
"Tuff, no!" Hiccup yelled.
"Tuffnut, move!" Clarke yelled, even as she found herself unable to take action herself; if she dived forward to try and Tuffnut out of the path of those spines, she could just end up getting shot by them herself…
She didn't know if Stormfly was that good or if Tuffnut was just lucky, but the spines fired by the Nadder missed the staggering male twin and struck the target behind him.
"Thank Loki," Tuffnut said, as though the close call had shaken him out of his earlier disorientation as he turned to look at the grounded watchers. "You guys are not gonna believe what just happened to me; it was-"
Tuffnut was interrupted when the metal Viking fell on top of him, leaving the group to run over as the flyers landed their dragons around him.
"We'll… talk in a little bit," Tuffnut said, wincing from his position on the ground even as Barf and Belch paced over to lift the metal Viking off him.
Clarke wasn't sure if she should be grateful at the chance to demonstrate her ability to heal or annoyed at how she always had to improvise medical treatments since she'd come to Earth. She appreciated that she was often the closest thing her associates had to a medical expert on a regular basis, and she genuinely liked being able to help people, but just once she'd like to have a full medical wing available to her, rather than having to improvise based on a few gathered herbs and strips of cloth. As far as she could tell, there was nothing wrong with Tuffnut beyond some scratches on his arms and a possible concussion to account for his initial disorientation, but she'd be sure to keep an eye on him for the next few hours just in case.
"There I was," Tuffnut said, sitting on the edge of the table with a very dramatic expression on his face. "Me and my inner Nut-"
"Which we do not want to hear anything more about, so what exactly happened to you out there?" Clarke asked.
"It was dark," Tuffnut said, in a manner that made it unclear if he'd heard Clarke or not. "So dark… not even the moon to light my merry way… and then all of a sudden, out of the darkness, red eyes! Ferocious teeth! A growl that could peel the beak off a chicken!"
Tuffnut's chicken squawked from beside him in what Clarke could swear was an indignant manner.
"Sorry; metaphor," Tuffnut apologised to the chicken before he continued, picking up the chicken to briefly shake it as he spoke. "It grabbed me and tossed me around like a rag doll- a very handsome rag doll- and then it left me for dead."
"Hold on; you think that the moon should have been lighting your way?" Clarke cut in. "You've only been away from camp for the last couple of hours; the sun hasn't even set yet!"
"Exactly!" Tuffnut said. "That's why it was so dark in the forest!"
"…Right," Clarke shook her head before glancing over at Hiccup. "This kind of… weird logic is normal for him, right?"
"Yeah," Hiccup nodded tentatively.
"Had to be sure," Clarke said; so long as she didn't have to treat Tuffnut for excess delusions, she could work with his apparent state.
"OK, Tuffnut, can you tell us anything else about what attacked you?" Fishlegs put in.
"It was far too fast," Tuffnut shook his head. "Too… cagey, too… quick, give me another adjective!"
"How about 'imaginary'?" Snotlout asked.
"Really?" Clarke looked over at Snotlout, before she reached out to grab Tuffnut's wrist and brandish it in front of the shortest Viking, indicating the teeth marks on his upper arm. "And I suppose these are just psychosomatic?"
The blank stares she received from the other Vikings prompted Clarke to shake her head apologetically. "Sorry; 'psychosomatic' is a term from… my people… which basically means that someone becomes so convinced that they're ill that they make themselves ill even though there's no reason they should be."
"That's possible?" Fishlegs looked curiously at her.
"The mind is an amazing thing sometimes," Clarke nodded, before she turned her attention back to Tuffnut's arm. "So can we get back to working out what actually bit Tuffnut?"
"Glowing red eyes and that particular bite pattern…" Fishlegs looked tentatively at the arm. "Maybe if I can compare them to the Book of Dragons…"
"Oh, you're not gonna find anything on this dragon there," Gobber said dismissively. "Or anythin' else ye look up, for that matter."
"Why not?" Clarke looked curiously at the older man.
"It's obvious we're all thinkin' the same thing here."
"Well, I can pretty much guarantee we're not, but, uh, why don't you tell us what you're thinking, Gobber," Hiccup said, after exchanging awkward glances with the other teens.
"Lycanwing," Gobber said solemnly.
"Excuse me?" Clarke looked at the man in surprise, mind flashing to memories of the stories her father had told her about supernatural creatures when he ran out of things to tell her about the dragon sanctuary that particular week. "Are we talking about… people turning into dragons?"
"Precisely," Gobber nodded solemnly at her before he began to pace around the hut. "The Lycanwing dragon is a rare beast, and a vicious one at that. Those who survive its bite are not actually survivors at all; they are doomed to a life as half-man, half-Lycanwing. At the height of every full moon, the condemned Viking transforms into a terrifying dragon! Wings the size of a house, teeth stronger than Gronckle Iron! And a thirst...for blood."
Tuffnut yelped in terror as Gobber leaned dramatically over the table.
"Oh for crying out- that isn't possible, Tuffnut!" Clarke glared over at him. "You are not going to turn into a dragon; this isn't some… horror story!"
"Exactly!" Hiccup nodded at her before he turned back to the male twin. "The Lycanwing isn't a real dragon, it's just a myth! Gobber, have you ever seen a Lycanwing?"
"No…" Gobber conceded.
"Has anyone on Berk ever seen a Lycanwing?"
"Not that I can recall," Gobber conceded, after Snotlout and Fishlegs exchanged glances.
"I rest my case," Hiccup nodded.
"But the stories… oooh!" Gobber said, his mood shifting. "They'll straighten the hair on a curly-haired yak!"
"What kind of stories?" Clarke asked, curious despite her own scepticism.
"His name was Kessler," Gobber continued solemnly.
"That's a weird name," Snotlout said (Clarke resisted the urge to point out that Snotlout had no right to say anyone else had a weird name given his own).
"Weird kid," Gobber conceded. "Bright red hair, eyes as black as night, naughty as a nadder in a chicken coop!"
"Why would-?" Clarke looked over at Astrid.
"Nadders really enjoy chicken," Astrid clarified. "I've used it to help build up Stormfly's stamina; she's almost as fast as Toothless when she's been feeding on chicken for long enough."
"One night," Gobber said, glaring at the talking teens before he continued his story, "little Kessler, against his parents' wishes, went exploring in the forest. Days went by, no sign of him, only a far away scream, coming from the woods. The little bugger never returned… or did he?"
"Did he?" Clarke asked, even as Fishlegs shook in terror.
"Every year from then on," Gobber continued, with a smirk, "when little Kessler's birthday rolled around, a red, black-eyed dragon would fly over his parents' house and pluck one of their sheep right out of the paddock! The dragon would look back, taunting them… BUUUT I wouldn't worry, Tuffnut, you're not exhibiting any symptoms."
"Hey, hey, hey, can we really say for sure what our pal Tuffnut is exhibiting?" Snotlout put in with a smirk. "C'mon Gobster, lay em' on us! Just for the sake of argument."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Snotlout," Ruffnut said, shooting a glance over at Clarke as though asking for help.
"Well, first off," Gobber continued before Clarke could say anything, "you'd be looking at a sensitivity to light."
"Aren't you always saying that it hurts your head when you look into the sun?" Snotlout grinned.
"Yeah… I did say that," Tuffnut began.
"That happens to everyone, it's not like-" Clarke began.
"AH!" Tuffnut yelled, leaping back as he stared out of the hut's main door, a quick glance confirming to Clarke that Tuffnut must have seen the sun in the sky outside.
"Unquenchable thirst…" Gobber continued, as Tuffnut began gasping and licking his fingers.
"You look thirsty…" Snotlout began, before Ruffnut smacked Snotlout in the face.
"He always looks thirsty!" the girl protested.
"What else, Gobber?" Snotlout said even as he shifted slightly out of Ruffnut's range. "There's gotta be more than that."
"Fidgety arms," Gobber confirmed, "on account of the wings starting to sprout."
As though on cue, Tuffnut's arms suddenly began fidgeting and twitching on either side of his body, one slapping Ruffnut in the face before she could join the other teens in moving out of range.
"Oh for- will you both stop that?" Clarke protested as she grabbed Tuffnut's arm and glared between Snotlout and Gobber. "You're just provoking-"
"What else?" Snotlout asked eagerly. "What else?"
"Finally," Gobber concluded, "the overwhelming desire to eat raw fish."
With those final words, Tuffnut ran over to Barf and Belch's feeding trough and practically plunged his head into it, raising his head up with a fish held between his teeth and two more in his hands before he ran away, muttering something about them tasting terrible. Snotlout began to laugh, but was stopped when Clarke slapped him in the back of the head at virtually the same moment Ruffnut drove her fist into his gut, each glaring in contempt at the shortest Viking.
"This is pretty much that psycho-stuff you were talking about, right?" Ruffnut asked, looking over at Clarke as Snotlout bent over between them.
"I'm thinking it is," Clarke nodded, before she indicated the area on her upper arm where she'd seen Tuffnut's bite mark. "Although we still need to explain where that came from before we can rule anything else out, in case he's just having a bad reaction to something…"