Ghost's Reign Chapter 20: Older-Brother Comes Around, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 20, everybody! Gotta focus on this a bit more we're good until Thanksgiving though so there's that. And like the rest of my active fics, I'll keep posting this to FFN until it dies—and apparently it's working on it. :|

In other news, Gogo is starting to get attached to the idea of having a Yokai but don't tell anyone. She's also a good friend who's willing to give a boot to the behind in any format.

Gogo, meanwhile, was going along with her own plot. Namely, having a dragon monitoring every single troublesome Yokai on the island. That this basically meant every Yokai was just splitting scales at this point, she'd feel better knowing there were dedicated eyes on these things.

Longtooth the Saber-Toothed Driver was the next one she enlisted in this job.

"Look, all you've got to do is pick one that no one else has assigned themselves to and keep an eye on it," she said, waffling a wing. "It's not like I'm asking you to keep it as a pet like Hiro's suggesting."

"I wouldn't know what to do with one anyway," Longtooth said, paws crossed as he lounged on top of one of the nests she was perching on.

"Basically just keep it out of trouble, it's not like they can't feed themselves." Did she occasionally fetch her Yokai a fish or two? Yes, but that was to keep the temptation to take a bite out of her to a minimum. She'd hate to have to squash it like a bug right as she was starting to warm to the whole idea. "I'm not proposing going overboard like Fred has."

"Yeah Fred's kind of weird now."

"NOW? You know he was weird before."

"Yeah but before it was a manageable weird." Look down, scan the Yokai darting here and there. "Does it matter which one?"

"Preferably one that no one else has picked yet, other than that, no," Gogo said, watching a cluster of Yokai watching them. "Just pick one and stay on it."

Longtooth made a pensive noise, sat up. "Tell me something, Swift-Strike—you're usually the cynic when it comes to this sort of thing. What's the game here?"

"If they know we're watching, then they'll behave themselves," she said. "There's a cluster of them that I think are trying to stir up trouble, so if we can keep an eye on those…that one," she said, indicating one of the Yokai. "I saw that one with two of the troublemaking Yokai."

"I've seen that one around before," Longtooth said, eyeing it. "I'm pretty sure I can work with that."

"Good. Keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't misbehave."

"And if it does?"

"Start with growling, growling usually works," she said, lifting off and circling around the Yokai-nest—let's see, find her friends, or find her Yokai….

Okay fine dangit she was starting to get attached to the idea of having a Yokai shut up Fred she was doing this because of Hiro and honestly the alternative made her scales crawl. The idea that the Yokai were just as intelligent as they were and forced to fight through a bad alpha…she understood that, and it made continuing antagonizations an unpalatable concept.

And it had been weeks without incident—many of the dragons were settling in and even adopting Yokai, through Hiro's actions and partially her own, Fred singing the praises of this whole concept…she wanted to believe that this would work.

Still watching for teeth, though.

She found her Yokai in the kill ring, busy beating up Obake for no apparent reason—perched next to Hiro, busy watching the whole thing with worry.

"Pretty sure this is how Yokai play," she told him, settling down next to him.

"Yeah but she could be less rough about it," Hiro said, ear flaps twitching. "This puts a MAJOR cramp in the whole thing with the saddle."

"How is that coming along, by the way."

"Eh," Hiro noised, shrugging. "It'd be faster if SOMEONE—not naming names but he definitely resembles a Night Fury—would be less recalcitrant about it. Seriously I think Tadashi's just trying to squish him for the fun of it now."

Which wouldn't surprise her. Watch the fight go on a little more, Momakase waiting for Obake to stagger upright before smacking him back down…fly off to find Tadashi.

She found him inside the caves, sorting out some fish he had helped catch and chatting with some of the dragons there. "Can I talk to you?"

"I mean sure," Tadashi said, glancing at her with ear flaps up. "What is it?"

"You follow me," she said, walking back out of the cave. Tadashi looked bemused, followed her out and up into the air.

"So what is it, some big secret? No wait, you finally found someone you're interested in and you don't want it getting around," he teased.

"Hush before I smack you," she told him. "No, I was wondering what the holdup was on the whole saddle thing."

Tadashi groaned. "Don't YOU start."

"It's a legitimate question—you're wasting time better spent doing other things."

"And what if he stabs me mid-flight?"

"Yokai can't fly, so that would make him an idiot." Glance at him. "So, what's taking so long?"

Tadashi huffed. "It's the principle of it."

"So you're just being daft about it."

"It's the principle of it," Tadashi repeated. "It's—I know better, dragons won't just magically follow a Yokai because I carted him around on my back, but—it's his attitude, Swift-Strike. Like—like this is some big challenge and if he can just beat me he can get it."

"So it's a matter of pride, not principle."

"Yes. No. It's complicated."

She huffed. "Sure it is. Have you eaten yet, or were you too busy feeding everyone else?"

"I could use some fish," he admitted—squinted at her. "Maybe a race too? It's been a while."

Huff. "You're on."

At the very least, it was a suitable distraction.

"Remember to be nicer this time, Older-Brother."

"I've been nice—I've been very nice all things considered."

Hiro's expression suggested that Older-Brother was blowing smoke out his nose. "I mean it. No trying to break my Yokai."

"Sure, sure," Older-Brother said, crouching down.

He launched into the air just a shade below breakneck, which qualified as nicer, before immediately canting into barrel rolls, spinning sideways before angling down and diving, swooping around the sea stacks not quite close enough to scrape Obake off, but close enough he knew his crest was ruffling the rocks. Dive down, arrow back up, spinning—Obake had lost his voice by this point, from the sound of it—backflip, arrow down, adjust to even quickly, slamming him into the saddle. The plan being to coast for a minute or two to catch his own breath before catching the Yokai off-guard. He knew Obake knew this as well, knew he'd be bracing for it…maybe give him another minute to relax slightly.

Except with the exception of hanging onto the handle, which was probably because he had been hanging on so hard he had lost feeling in his claws, Obake was feeling very loose-boned and…resigned, maybe.

"I give up," he heard the Yokai mutter, wheezing into the saddle. "I give up, I'm never breaking this dragon."

Older-Brother…was not expecting this. Alphas, when they fought for dominance, did not back down until one was dead or severely injured. He didn't think Obake was injured, and he had been hanging on for dear life and refusing to be bested for the past two months he had been jumping onto Older-Brother's back. He figured it was a battle for dominance, that he wanted to be alpha over both flights.

Except the way he had been behaving otherwise…he seemed to rather leave both alone, try to get them to interact in a way that wasn't fighting, constantly trying to bribe the Furies with gifts of fish…he was not acting like an alpha competing for control of a flight except in this one thing.

And the other dragons were starting to warm up to these, the worst of their enemies—even Older-Light-Fury was starting to soften a little. Little-Brother had insisted they stay, Little-Brother had insisted they could make this work, just follow my instructions and everything will be fine. Older-Brother was the last holdout, he felt—he had to be, he had to be the one watching these Yokai for treachery.

No, you don't understand—this one is different! This one is nice—they can be good, Older-Brother.

…Maybe he should finally take Little-Brother's advice.

He drifted gently up, keeping the incline shallow; evened out again, tapped an ear against Obake's head.

"Hey," he chuffed, gently tapping him again. Felt him moving a little, tightening up again….

Loosen up when he realized the view he was looking at.

Tadashi angled gently, wingtip slicing a furrow in the clouds beneath him, righted himself, lowered down so his claws were just barely stirring up wisps.

"I don't trust you," he said finally. "But Little-Brother does…and I suppose you've been making an effort. So I'm going to trust you—a little—for now. And maybe…maybe you'll surprise me. Maybe you'll show me that Little-Brother is right. I don't know. What I do know is that if you break that trust—if you ever give me a reason to—I'll break you in half in front of your flight. Are we clear?"

Obake didn't understand him, of course—Yokai never did understand dragons—but he did gingerly pat Tadashi's neck, scratch behind one of his sensory nubs, hands nibble-grooming, feeling less like a combative alpha and more like someone in the same flight.

Yes, Tadashi wouldn't risk fully trusting this Yokai for a long time.

But…he could risk humoring Hiro. At least a little.

It was a few more days of flying without getting thrown all over the place that Obake was willing to tentatively declare success. Tadashi might have finally gotten over the urge to kill him.

It wasn't lost on him that it was after he conceded defeat.

He shook his head, decided to focus on the positives—Tadashi had been quite obliging with testing the absolute limits of the saddle, it had plenty of fiddly little components that would keep Obake on, would lock in quickly but release him quickly if need be, and after plenty of working fit the dragon perfectly. All it probably really needed was a coat of paint—durable paint, he didn't want to be dealing with flecks flying everywhere.

And…maybe one more thing.

It was an idea that kept niggling at him, and one that he acted upon with trepidation. Furies were clever, and all his work at making sure he'd stay on the saddle no matter what would get thrown clean out the window if he added this.

Except….

Tadashi had stopped fighting after he gave up.

That was what made him finally act on the design pinging around in his head. If that's what it took to pull this off…then maybe he could risk it.

Besides, it wasn't like he didn't have a record of making brilliant safety decisions as far as dragons were concerned.

This concern deepened when he brought the revamped saddle over to Tadashi, only for the dragon to huff and sigh in resignation at the sight of him. At least Hiro got the bigger Fury back into a good mood, he was going to need every edge he could get at this point.

"Yes, well, assume the position," Obake said, matching Tadashi's level of enthusiasm. The Fury huffed again, allowed Obake to put the saddle back on, gave him such a disparaging look when he stepped back that he nearly decided to skip this next bit.

"Okay," he sighed—might as well, he had committed. "Touch right here," he ordered, pointing at the gold disk that now rested at the base of the dragon's throat.

Tadashi gave him that distrusting look again—Obake sagged, they did not have time for this.

"Hiro," he said, whistling a little to get the little Fury's attention. Point at the disk again. "Hit right here."

Hiro chirped, jumped up, slapped a paw against the disk. As he expected, it clicked open, a tiny mechanism undoing the back clips as well so the saddle would slide right off.

Tadashi froze, ears and nubs at odd angles—looked down at the saddle, slipped out of it—looked at Obake, confused.

"I figure this cuts down on getting it off," he said. "Of course, this comes with the stipulation that you not hit that while I'm on board." Yeah right, he had just given a Night Fury that hated him the means to get rid of him permanently—he could already envision the last flight he'd ever take. "Let's get that back on and go, shall we?"

Tadashi seemed twitchy while he put the saddle back on—tested the latch himself when Obake was done. Gave Hiro a considering look while Obake muttered darkly to himself—

Didn't twitch or protest when Obake put the saddle on the third time.

"Is this the part where you finally fling me into the sun?" Obake decided to ask. Tadashi huffed, shook himself—he decided he might as well take the risk. Hop on, hope for the best.

Tadashi must have sensed his hesitance, because he did no such variance or aerial trickery the whole time—eventually graduating to more ambitious moves, but nothing like he had been doing. Ah, bless, he finally got what he wanted all that time ago—he was riding a Night Fury.

Lying in bed that night, it wasn't lost to him that the reason he did finally manage that feat was because he stopped trying to control said dragon.

"Wuff."

"So I'm not entirely certain your brother doesn't want to kill me," he told Hiro as the little dragon padded over, turning in a circle before flopping down. "Perhaps he's just less motivated to do it immediately—wait until my guard's down, and then do it."

Hiro made a sort of warbling noise, but otherwise seemed out for the night.

"Your concern is very touching, I'll have you know."

"Wuff."

Hiro jerked awake at the speed with which Obake sat up, eyeing the black shape slipping into the loft, green eyes evaluating him. Watch as Tadashi bumped noses with Hiro….

Watch in confusion as Tadashi turned around a couple of times before flopping down on the floor next to the bed.

Well…well…that was maybe good news.

"Am I to take this as a truce?" Obake asked. "You're not going to murder me in my bed, are you?"

Tadashi huffed but didn't look around.

"I suppose I'll take it," he decided, flopping back in bed. Wait a moment. "By the way, you're squashing my boots." On purpose, he supposed.

From the noise Tadashi made, he was aware of and had intended this.

But the good news.

The good news was that his excitement was contagious, that Tadashi was more than willing to fly over the village when asked, taking nice lazy circles before swooping down to the hall's steps, fins angling to make that startling scream—he was quite pleased to see they had attracted attention, quite enjoyed Carl and Momakase's expressions, although he had to give Dibs credit for having one that made him laugh inwardly. Perfect landing, smooth dismount—he couldn't resist taking his porcelain mask off with a flourish.

"You asked what we were supposed to do with all these dragons?" he queried. "Here's your answer."

Dibs made a very unbecoming noise for a mercenary before fainting dead away.