"Come on, Buck!" The dragon pranced out of the way once again, leaving me to trip over the buckle of the saddle. There was a faint taste of blood and a slight twinge on my bottom lip as I scraped my face up off the hardwood. I gave the dragon a firm look that he matched with a playful stance. Chirping eagerly as if to say, Again! Again!
I give up.
For the last three days, since the saddles completion, I've been fighting with Buckshot to even try it on to see if it fits. Up until this point he would continue do a few small leaps and glides to get to the top of tall buildings or statues, but he would still throw me off at the thought of anything more.
I guess some dragons just can't be trained.
"Perhaps Hiccup could give ye' a hand." Gobber offered. He had let us use the spare room of the workshop to test out the saddle, should he need to make any adjustments. "What with Toothless around, I'm sure he could help keep wee beast still long enough for you to slip it on at least."
"Maybe it's best if we don't." Buckshot sat at the end of the table, wondering why the game had stopped. "It's clear he doesn't want anything to do with it. I tried, but I can't force it."
I lay the saddle out neatly on the workbench, heaving a heavy sigh, trying hard to keep my eyes from watering.
"I'm sorry we wasted your materials. Hopefully you can still find some use for it."
"Maybe you should take a break." In other words, don't give up yet. "The fumes of smelted metal and body oder can get to you after a while."
A faint smile spread across my lips. Gobber has a certain charm that can't help but affect you. Like that one person you'd find at a pub and end up referring to as family by the end of the night. He was a strong and sturdy sense of moral fiber that's drenched in sarcasm and sweat.
"Right." I clambered my way down to the floor by means of assorted junk left purposeful for me. Buckshot just watched from the tabletop, tilting his head with a low whine as I left the building.
"You're a troublesome twit." Buck eyed the smithie briefly before looking back to the open doorway. "Why come back here at all if ye' don't intend to help. Poor lass is just trying to find her place in this world. But to have no one to rely on, that's far more damning than any cage."
It wasn't his fault she couldn't fly, or that she was too small, the dragon thought to himself, grunting off the smithies' words. Gobber left the saddle where it was and went to continue on his work at the forge.
He hadn't broken his promise. But he wasn't a sheep or a dog like most humans keep. He was a Terrible Terror, as they called him, a mighty hunter and formidable predator.
He turned his attention back to the empty doorframe, finding Millie slowly making her way down the road. Most knew to look where they stepped, but humans can be quite forgetful. A small group of woodcutters were lumbering her way, blissfully unawares. He was ready to leap to her side again and yet was happily relieved to find Hookfang's rider come swooping in at the perfect time. The smaller one was not one of his favorites, but the Terror liked him more than the taller one.
Should have shot both foots. Buck said to himself at the thought of Eret.
"What are you doing? You're gunna get yourself killed. And I'll get blamed for it." Snotlout huffed.
"I was thinking."
"Thinking is dangerous. Not everyone is gunna get out of your way, you know. And you shouldn't expect them to." He set her atop Hookfangs saddle.
"I don't expect anything." Millie bit. "Why should I expect anything when I haven't done anything to get anything! Everyone has done almost everything for me, and I can't even show my gratitude properly! I thought maybe if Buck would fly with me, then I could be a little more independent. A little more free. Maybe even be useful. But it's a hopeless idea. Buck wants nothing to do with it. So now I have to rethink my whole plan."
Not my fault you can't fly.
"I'm sorry you had to save me and that I inconvenienced you. You can just put me back on the ground, and I'll get out of your hair."
"And do what? Go back to "thinking" and feeling sorry for yourself? That worked so well the first time."
"I DON'T KNOW!" Millie cried. Her frustration affecting the Terror. He was tempted to leap out of the building and carry her off, but the Nightmare had fast reflexes and did NOT enjoy surprises. So he paced the workbench, trying to think of what was wrong and how it could be fixed, all while watching the interaction outside.
Snotlout flinched at her tone, he wasn't expecting her to be quite so forceful. Deep down he knew she had no magic to harm him with, but her circumstances were just too odd to take at face value. She had to be cursed and he really didn't want to join her.
He breathed a curse of his own when he saw her furiously wipe the tears from her cheeks. He'd never hear the end of it if he didn't try to help. Astrid would probably force him to Mildew's farm, too, if she found out he left her to her own devices.
"You're clearly not a warrior." He started. "You don't have the skills to contribute anything useful to the village, like construction or defense. But even you can be useful in the non-essential workforce. You could help the seamstresses with patching holes in socks and pants. I'm sure you could thread a needle better than anyone." A very hard hitting backhanded pep-talk. "So go home where it's safe, and I don't have to babysit you, and think about all the stuff you can do. And stop trying to aim for a pedestal you clearly can't reach."
"I just want to be useful."
"And you will be. But unless you can knit a shirt with light from the bifrost that grants someone invincibility, don't expect a saga for your efforts." Her shoulders sagged as she accepted his words.
Perhaps he had been a bit harsh, Snotlout thought to himself, but she needed to get it through her thick skull that she wasn't a hero. Just lucky to be alive. Cursed, but alive. He led Hookfang through the streets, Millie slumping in the saddle, and headed towards Valka's house.
Buck lay there, staring hard at the saddle. Debating. He was not a horse, or a yak, to be bridled and pulling a cart. To be doing chores and odd jobs for humans.
He could leave.
Clearly this hoard had forgotten its ancestors. This was unnatural, blasphemous, highly undignified!
He should leave.
Why wasn't he leaving?
Well, he couldn't leave without Millie. That would go against his sworn oath. And for a dragon to break his oath is a fate worse than death. In fact, it could cause death. No dragon ever lived once he broke his oath. Or so he'd heard.
But Millie was so small. Even with his keen instincts, she would easily get lost or swept away if he wasn't with her every waking hour. In all honesty, she was safer here. These other humans had made ways for her to get around on her own. They weren't perfect, but it was better than nothing.
Stupid thoughts, twisting in too many places. What is poor Buckshot to do?
He lay on the table, frustrated and irritated over every thought swimming whirlpools in his head. Poor, poor Buckshot. He moaned.
Poor Buckshot. He said his name again. A little nudge in his chest brought on a twinge of guilt. Buckshot did not even have a name. He shouldn't have had one. Buckshot was a pest. A weakling. Undeserving of such a thing as pure as a name. That's what all others said to him. But Millie gave me a name. Said I was Buckshot, small but determined.
He glanced back at the saddle, laying there, exactly how she placed it.
She could have had the Alpha kill him. Could have had her chief kill him. But she protects Buckshot, even when she cannot protect herself.
His head shot up, realizing something he wasn't overly willing to admit. He needed her. Just like how she needed him. Millie gave him a nest and shelter, she got her people to include him into her pack. While he kept her safe and warm, creating a hoard of his own in the process. He may not thoroughly enjoy the idea of training, his skills were already at their peak, but perhaps it would benefit Millie. She may not become a predator, or even a scavenger, but at least he could rest a little easier with knowing she could hold on to him as he got her to safety.
Am not a yak. But even the Aplha wears one of these... things. He gave the crafted leather a little kick.
Swallowing his pride, he picked up the saddle and burst out of the smithies, following the familiar path back to their nest. Brushing past the taller one on his way, snapping his tail at the side of his head. Snorting gleefully at his pained annoyance, with the other workers sniggering as the man called after the Terror.
He sat on the window of the house, ducking his head meekly when Millie looked up at him, her cheeks wet. Hopping to the floor she watched him curiously as he slowly made his way closer. Dropping the saddle beside her.
"I'm not playing, Buck." She mumbled into her knees, watching the dying embers dance with the gentle breeze.
He cooed lowly, nudging the saddle closer. She glanced at him but didn't move, holding firm that she wasn't giving in. So he picked up the saddle and dropped it forcefully at her feet, making her flinch out of her daze.
There. He saw it in her eyes. A faint glimmering of hope. Cautiously she moved, brushing her hands over the seat. His excitement got the better of him, his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he hunch over, tail wagging high in the air. That was his mistake. Humans did not understand the complexity of dragons. She mistook it for play and tossed the saddle aside.
"Even the dragons mock me." Fresh tears fell and the Terror humbled himself. This was not how he pictured this going.
These creatures are quite similar to our own kind. Buckshot thought of the Stormcutter's advice to him not long after his arrival. Each have their own spark, their own instincts, their own temperments. But much like the fire we breathe, we all have our limits. And it's best not to push them past theirs.
Millie had clearly reached hers. And he was not helping matters, try as he might. He knew she wanted this; to train, to fly. It was all she ever talked about. But right now she didn't know what she wanted.
Slowly, he crept closer. Stepping over the saddle, chirping softly as he came up beside her. Gently nuzzling her head. She absently scratched his scales in response, but nothing more. He curled up around her, purring contently as they watched the low fire together.
"What am I supposed to do? Could I actually spend my time darning socks? I don't even know how to darn socks. I don't even know what darning really means. Like, is it just fixing a tear or practically making a whole new sock?" Her thoughts tumbled about in the open air. Knowing the dragon couldn't answer, but saying them out loud helped clear out some of the fog.
Sounds boring. Would rather wrangle sheep. Buckshot huffed, earning him a small chuckle and a scratch behind the ear. Millie never understood a thing he said, but to be fair, he only understood little of her speech. The sounds didn't always make sense. But the tone usually gave her away.
A shadow flicked across the floor, followed by several others. Outside, the newest riders were learning the basics. Their cheerful cries echoing throughout the streets and bouncing off the walls. Millie watched them longingly. She would never let it go, she's even still wearing the harness, but he can't push her too much. If she wouldn't help with the thing, then he'd try to put it on himself.
"Where are you going?"
He ignored her, and instead puzzled over the saddle. From what he could remember at seeing the others, the straps go underneath and over his belly, and the flat bit is supposed to go on his back. There were slits to allow his spines through, but there were so many buckles and bits. Which way was front? Oh, it doesn't matter, it all looks the same.
He nosed and nudged it, trying to flip it up on his back. When that didn't work, he tried rolling over it. But all the straps got tangled, wrapping around his neck and wings. How'd his tail get caught in that foot holder bit? He was about to give up, blast the thing with all his fire. But a shuffling to his left made him stop.
Millie laughed at the Terror, who's head popped up with the saddle tangled on his horns and partly laying across his face. Seeing as whatever he was trying to do wasn't working, the least she could do was untangle him.
He fought the urge of growing excitement as she got closer.
Must not move. Must not move. Don't want to spook her. His toes and the tip of his tail twitched as he tried hard to stay stock still.
Carefully she un-looped the straps, taking hold of the saddle seat as he pulled back, shaking himself loose. They stared at each other. Millie's mind drifting back into a gloomy daze. Buckshot couldn't let that happen. Her gaze fogging over, she didn't notice him come up beside her. Flinching when he cooed softly. He stood before her, showing off his back, and waiting for her to get the idea.
She looked at him, then the saddle, then back at him. Her brows knitting lightly.
"Did you want help?"
He had no idea what she said, but she sounded curious. And that was good. He did his best impression of a human response, awkwardly bobbing his head up and down, hoping the gesture would encourage her to put the thing on him. And it worked.
Keeping an eye on him, in case he should make chase again, she lifted the saddle high. He watched her as well but stayed put. Carefully she threaded his spines through the saddle seat. That felt weird. He tried to shake off the awkward feeling, the buckles and straps flinging about as he did.
"How's that feeling?" She shifted the saddle about, making sure the slits weren't too tight on his spines. It itched a bit, and the added weight felt strange, but much to the dragons surprise it wasn't as horrible as he thought.
When he didn't make a move to tear it off, she continued on to the buckles. She threaded them one by one, making sure the saddle wasn't digging into him too much. Luckily, his spines would help ensure it didn't shift during flight, but if the buckles were too loose it could still slide off, if they weren't careful.
She stood back to look at her handiwork. Chuckling when Buck did a few little spins, trying to see the thing for himself.
It seems to fits well enough, the Terror thought, but we needs to be sure it works. He cast a glance her way, trying to guess what she was thinking.
"Why don't we leave it on for a bit." That was not what he had in mind. "We can walk around the house for today, see how it feels and go from there. Maybe tomorrow we can try our usual hopping–" he cut her short, picking her up and carrying her out the window.
She gripped tightly to the claws wrapped about her arms as he took her higher, satisfied that the rooftops were far below them. With quick and forceful movements Millie was flung freely into the air, her panicked screeching ringing through the breeze. Buck ducked underneath, lining it up perfectly so that she fell right in the saddle.
"hngh I don't know how the boys do these sorts of stunts and are still able to walk afterwards. Ah, that hurt." She groaned, doubling over and breathing deeply. The Terror hovered high above the village, looking at her over his shoulder. Afraid that she may get off if he landed anywhere. "You really wanna do this?" He crowed, shaking with excitement. "Okay, just hold on one more second so I can attach the harness." He did as she asked, waiting eagerly until she was situated.
She gave a firm tug, ensuring the harness was secured. There would be no convincing him to track anyone down for training, he was far too eager. There was a possibility this could end poorly.
"We're vikings. It's an occupational hazard!"
A small smile spread across her lips. Even though she never witnessed those words live, she felt them course through her veins. Her eyes steeled as she adjusted her position in the saddle. Buck had seen that look before, in the arena. Nothing was going to stop her now.
Small but determined.
"Let's do this." That's all he needed to hear.
He took them a few feet higher before arching backward and diving head-first. She could hardly hear anything as they picked up speed, the wind rushing past them. The ground was getting closer and for a split second Millie flinched at the thought of crashing, but she leaned forward, her adrenaline rushing, and at the last second, the Terror levelled out with the road. Racing his way through anyone and anything in his path. Dodging helmets and feet, ducking and diving over barrels and wagons and sheep, all at top speed. Granted, they were nowhere near as fast as Toothless, but to both of the village runts, they were as fast as lightning.
Unstoppable.
They sped out to the cliffs, feeling the harsh winds bursting off the sea. He banked left, curving along the bluffs, drifting with the spray from the crashing waves. Circling the two lighthouse statues just off Berks coast, using them to climb back up, kicking off the horned helmet to head back towards the island. They sailed over the trees by Raven's Peak, catching a glimpse of the scarred trail where Toothless first crashed and the hidden pond where the boy and dragon trained in secret. He slowed the pace a bit, expertly ducking and dodging branches, this time ensuring Millie remained on his back.
Bursting through the canopy, the two settle along the breeze as they headed out towards the sea-stacks, spooking whatever sea-birds were nesting on the rocks as they went.
"Please don't let this be a one-time thing." Millie pleaded.
Buckshot chirped cheerfully. His plan had worked, as he knew it would. These humans weren't all that hard to train, after all.
They continued to coast, both catching their breath as the adrenaline wore off. The Terror hadn't flown this hard since he stalked them across the seas. She'd evaded him for days with the help of that damn chicken, but he'd managed to catch the scent of her blood when the hoard of them came flying back here.
Never in his wildest dreams did this scenario ever come to mind. And yet here they are. Flying blissfully. Together. With nothing but the crashing waves below them and the irritated cries of the sea-birds above them. Or so he thought.
Buck twitched his head, listening intently as their peaceful moment was about to come to an end by a dragon approaching quickly from behind. Before Millie had the chance to ask what had caught his attention, they were sent tumbling through the turbulent tailwind of a nightfury and his rider. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, urging Toothless to turn around.
She held on with a white-knuckled grip, Buck huffing and snorting in irritation, as they steadied themselves.
"Look at you!" Hiccup called as they circled the smaller two. "I thought you were having trouble with the saddle?"
"Air hog! You almost sent us crashing into the sea!" Buckshot screeched in irritated agreement.
"Have to test out that harness somehow." Hiccup lifted the face-plate, Toothless hovering in front of the pair. "How's it feel?"
"Pretty good." Millie checked the straps and buckles. "Pretty solid. I couldn't feel any shift and nothing feels loose, so I'd say so-far-so-good for a first run."
"Come on, there's a sturdier stack further out. Let's see how you handle landing." Toothless kept an even pace, ensuring the Terror could keep up and wouldn't get left behind.
The nightfury landed with a flourish, watching the younger drake with a small snort of amusement, their landing not quite as graceful.
Buckshot started to fidget as he felt her weight shift in the saddle.
No, no stay on!
Ease up, hatchling. Let her be.
You don't know how hard it was to get her on this thing! She may never get back on!
You can't train them too hard. They need breaks every now and then. Besides, she can't get back to the village without you.
Buckshot grumbled. All this training stuff was new to him, and although he knew it would take time to get it right, he hated the idea of others knowing he couldn't handle it on his own.
Millie let out a tired groan as she stretched her tense muscles. It was a struggle to untie the harness but it came loose in the end. She swung her legs over the Terror's spine and went crashing into the dirt.
"Legs a little stiff?" A small grin graced Hiccups lips, remembering his first flight and all the bruises it brought with it.
"Just a bit." Millie sat there, massaging her thighs and calves, hoping to get some feeling back into them. Buckshot sat nearby, watching her anxiously, afraid he'd done something wrong and he'd hurt her in some way. It was a small comfort to have Toothless explain that it was normal, and she'd be fine.
"You get used to it after a while."
Hiccup made himself comfortable on the grass. He should be in the Mead Hall right now, going over the needs of the farmers, any repairs that were still needed after the winter thaw. There was a mud slide near Silent Sven's place that destroyed most of his grazing fields and five of his sheep were still missing. And with many of the rivers and straits thawing out they'd need to start patrolling again for Dragon Hunters prowling too close to their coasts.
Sitting out here on a tower of stone was the last place he should have been. But he needed a break. Some time to think. He wasn't expecting Millie to be out this far. Last he'd heard was that Buckshot was refusing to train and she was sulking back at the house.
At least, that's what Snotlout had said to him.
"We had a thought, while Fishlegs and I were studying the lens' image." Hiccup broke the silence. "Well, what we could make of it, it's still a bit.. fuzzy. But we thought that maybe you're connected to it, in a way." Millie cast him a curious glance. "Even Astrid and Eret thought it all seemed a bit too convenient that you show up, as you are, and suddenly were chasing after another lens that's wrapped in just as much mystery as you."
"I never thought of that."
"It's not that we're accusing you of anything, but we just found it an odd coincidence. That's all."
"It's certainly something to think about, for sure." Her brows furrowed, deep in thought at this new theory. It does make some sense, but it's just as vague as Toffa's "advice". If she was connected to the lens, would it lead her to a gateway home? Or would it change her size, or maybe the size of others? Would it give her powers, like wings or magic or something to help her survive? Or would it lead to a dead end?
She's got that look again. Your rider's got her spooked! Buckshot nipped at Toothless, but he remained passive to the Terror's outburst. She's not gunna wanna train anymore!
You really don't know much of humans, do you? Here, let me show you a trick to regaining their attention.
Toothless got on his belly, stealthily crawling up to Hiccup. The boy let out a yelp as he was dragged across the turf, the dragon chewing lightly on his metal foot, a playful look in his eyes.
"Toothless! Let go!" The dragon refused and somehow managed to remove the prosthetic effortlessly. "Come on, bud! That's my foot!"
Millie couldn't hide her laughter, watching the two hobble and skip about, playing a game of keep away. Hiccup managed to get a hold of it, which was hard considering it was coated in drool, and after a few short tugs he was sent tumbling onto his back. Toothless wasted no time, pouncing over the boy and licking his face furiously, despite Hiccup's protests.
He finally managed to wriggle his way out from underneath the dragon, wiping his face on the parts of him that were dry, and spitting into the grass. Toothless looked over at the Terror, giving him a smug and knowing look that quickly vanished when Hiccup flicked the slobber off his metal foot at the dragons face as payback. Not that it bothered him much.
Buckshot watched the scene play out with an unsure curiosity. He was treating his rider like a youngling. But wasn't he a full grown adult? Or did he have that wrong, and the boy was still an adolescent? But he had seen the townsfolk treat the dragons in a similar way. Talking to them as one does a hatching. Playing with them, and bribing them with treats to do as they're told.
The humans have strange interactions with us, but it is their way of showing affection and trust and loyalty. Toothless explained, sensing the Terror's apprehension. It seems a common form of understanding that goes both ways. If they push us too hard, do we not bite back?
Buckshot thought on this. It was true that they did not always understand each other's words, but they had a way of communicating that worked.
So, Buckshot should train her like one trains a hatchling?
Not exactly. She is full grown, despite her size. She knows how to fend for herself. But it is to be mindful. Of her behaviours, of her mood, of her actions. There are some times when simple distractions aren't enough. You must have patience, in those times, and not push her beyond her own understanding.
It made sense but it seemed like a lot.
It is a lot to take in all at once. But it gets easier with time. Deny it all you want, but you have bonded with her. And that makes all the difference.
Buckshot snorted to himself. Him, bonding with a human. He didn't need anyone. Despite his trails to survive his first year, he'd managed on his own. And yet, as he watched her move, watched her interact with leader of this territory, he felt a need to be with her. To protect her.
Our freedom becomes theirs, and theirs becomes ours. That is how this hoard works. All for each other. We lift up, we teach, and we protect our own. Toothless lifted his head in a noble way. Buckshot would chew on those words for the rest of his life.
"What are they doing?" Hiccup watched his dragon sitting a ways off, looking like a proud king for Terror looking up at him.
"I have no idea." Millie found it quite amusing, seeing the two squawk and chirp and rumble at each other, as if they were having a conversation. "But at least they get along well enough."
"True."