Hello, everyone!
I deeply apologize for the delay in uploading. Life has been hectic lately. But I have slowly but surely been working on this project! No matter how long I go between updates, I will eventually finish this. So as long as I have not explicitly stated in an update here that I am no longer working on this, know that there will be an update eventually!
I would like to thank MisteryMaster56, NomexGlove, Terra1211, naedinefebruary2.0, CallMeUrmo, 12scepter, picothea, Silverleone, lunalover507, MysteryWriter175, TheCatsmith, GoldenGleam, UmbreonMario21, and all anonymous reviewers for all of your wonderful reviews! I seriously cherish them all, so thank you so much.
As always, I also need to thank my betas, kwizjunior, Dragon Crusader, Anticept, Crysist, Samateus, Dys, LapisSea, and RS for all of your hard work!
The next few chapters have been written so I hope to upload them much sooner. Don't worry about being left on an interlude for a long time!
I hope you all enjoy, and have a fantastic day!
Snotlout
Finally, after days and days of preparation, our teams were travel-ready. One co-lead by Thalos and Cynbel, and the other by Eret and me.
Our team was the better one, in my humble opinion. It was small but efficient, just like our team on Berk. Each person brought their own unique spice to the table. The process of picking them out and getting their buy-in took way longer than I liked, but it was worth it.
First were Mirko and Steelstrike: the seasoned sailor whose family had been murdered by Drago's raiders, and the equally-grizzled Razorwhip.
Next up were Piers and Snuffle: a middle-aged archer from a small island far to the south, and a Thornridge with a knack for tracking.
Then were Hjalmar and Downpour: a skilled duelist who had known Eret when they were boys, and the gray-muzzled Raincutter who didn't know how to quit.
Soon after were Leofrik and Thunderclap: a thoughtful man who rose the ranks from slave to trader in Drago's armada, and a young Windstriker that tried to race everyone that flew near her.
Our search was complete with Arduin and Sting: a craftsman from one of the larger islands to the east, and a Threadtail that was especially interested in inventing new ways to use her poison.
Obviously, there were Eret and Anatoli: the captain and de-facto dragon King of Tempy's nest. The unnamed Stormcutter who was Anatoli's mate also was never too far behind.
Last but not least were Hookie and me: the raider-hunting experts who were going to lead the team to success.
Our mission: find out what the raiders were up to, why they had Greek fire, and what they intended to do with it. Seemed easy enough.
There was only one problem.
"You. Are. Staying. Here!" Eret shouted, punctuating each word with a pointed finger.
Tempy flared his crown of frills and roared. The ice ceilings shook, sending drops of water spattering to the ground.
"I don't know what you just said and I don't care!" Eret said. Tempy shot a blast of freezing mist at him, which he easily sidestepped. "We don't know how long we'll be gone. We need you here to hold the fort!"
Tempy seemed to consider this. He narrowed his eyes and rumbled. Anatoli and the Stormcutter growled and hissed, their tones scolding and stern.
Hookie nudged me and whined.
"I think it's dumb, too!" I whispered. "But he didn't listen to anything I said."
I personally thought bringing Tempy would be a good idea. He was huge. He was strong. We wouldn't have to look for islands or icebergs to land on to rest. I didn't see any reason why not to let him come with us.
Tempy, living up to his name, threw his head back and let out an ear-shattering whine. I slapped my hands to my ears as Hookie hid his head under a wing.
Right. Forgot about that. Tempy was a young dragon, and that meant he had the occasional tantrum.
Eret stood there with his hands on his hips. "Ya done yet?" he said when Tempy eventually stopped.
With a furious grunt and roll of his shoulders, Tempy spun and dove into his lake, disappearing through the tunnel below that led out to the ocean.
Eret groaned and ran his hands over his face. Anatoli gave him a flat look. "Yeah, yeah, I know I coulda handled that better," he griped. He spun on his heel and walked towards the rest of us, where we were anxiously waiting. The other team had already taken off on their mission and those who were staying had gone off to do their chores. We'd been ready to go when Tempy emerged in the nest, apparently expecting to tag along, too.
As Eret approached, I jabbed a thumb at the rippling lake and said, "You know he's gonna follow us, right?"
"Yes, Snotlout. I do know that," Eret snipped. "I am very, extremely aware of the fact that he's set on following us." He sighed deeply. "Gods, we might as well just give up on stealth now."
"What?!" I said. Hookie and I had been planning on showing our expertise in that! Craning my neck to peer up at the ice ceiling, I said, "From the light coming in, it's cloudy. Can't we just fly above the clouds?"
Eret looked at me like I was insane. "Do you know how high we would have to fly to do that?"
"Uh, yeah?" I said, quirking an eyebrow. I glanced at Hookie, who was just as confused as me. "We do that all the time. Do you not?"
"Don't you get altitude sickness?" asked Leofrik. "Whenever Thunderclap goes up for a big dive, I always feel lightheaded."
"Then just get used to it!" I said, exasperated. "Tempy can't see us if we fly above the clouds. Hiccup and Toothless always had us fly up high to cover ground faster."
"Toothless is a Night Fury," Eret said. "They are mountain-dwelling dragons that are experts at striking from above. They are made to fly much higher than other dragons. We live at sea level!"
"So do we!" I countered. Patting my companion, I added, "And Hookie does just fine going up there all the time, and Nightmares are cave-dwelling dragons!"
"If it'll throw the Bewilderbeast off our tails, then we do it," Mirko grunted, not looking up from shining Steelstrike's scale-armor.
Hjalmar turned to Downpour. "Can ya make it up there, 'ole girl?"
Downpour stood on her hind legs and flapped her time-worn wings, keening. I glanced at Hookie, who nodded.
Eret still looked unconvinced. "If Tempy can't see us, that means that we can't see the ocean—or any of our landmarks."
"We have compasses, and dragons who have compasses in their brains or something like that!" I said. Fishlegs had tried to explain it to me once, but the nerd-talk had nearly bored me to sleep. When Eret still frowned, I threw my hands up and exclaimed, "Are we co-captains or not?"
"Yes. We are," Eret said. "Which means we make decisions together." He sighed, tracing his eyes over the eyes, brows furrowed. With a deep sigh, he relented, "Well, I 'spose we could at least give it a shot."
"Alright!" I cheered. Hookie gaped a smile and wiggled, which made jumping into his saddle way harder than it needed to be, but I still managed to do it. "Let's go!"
"Wha—hey!" Eret began, but Hookie had already taken off. Thunderclap, eager to keep up, took off with Leofrik in tow. Piers and Arduin were already atop their dragons, so they leapt up after us. That left Eret, Hjalmar, and Mirko scrambling to saddle up and join us. Once they were on the wing, Hookie and I bolted away, leading everyone outside through the ice tunnels.
As we emerged into the overcast day, I leaned over and caught sight of a big patch of bubbles in the ocean. "Nice try, Tempy!" I shouted, though I knew there was no way the hiding sea-dragon could hear me. "Let's show them how we do things, Hookie!"
"Alright!" he crowed. He swung his tail down, angled his neck up, and thrust up in a steep spiral. Maybe it wasn't the straight vertical ascent that Toothless and Hiccup could manage, but it was pretty dang close!
Up and up we went, until the clouds dove towards us and we were engulfed in the gray, wet nothingness inside them. A few moments more, and we breached through the sea of clouds, out into a surprisingly-clear sky and bright sun.
Judging by how long it took Eret to catch up, they definitely did not fly this high often.
"Snotlout!" Eret snapped once a wheezing Anatoli broke through the cloud-cover, the Stormcutter panting just behind them. "Are you on a team, or are you on a solo mission?"
"What?" I asked, meeting his scowl with my own. Why was he mad? The plan was working!
Eret gestured wordlessly below us, panting for breath. But there was nothing to see, which was the whole point.
I looked back and forth between the empty sky and him. There was nothing up here except…me and him…
…which meant that the others hadn't made it up yet.
Which…meant…
"You can't just leave everyone behind like that!" Eret said.
My face flushed. "I didn't realize it would take you guys so long!" I exclaimed, knowing even as I said it how much of a lame excuse it was.
"You would have if you hadn't gone off on your own!" Eret said, pointing an accusing finger at me. "When these dragons tire out hours sooner than normal, that'll be on your shoulders!"
I grimaced and Hookie whined. Below, the first of our team finally caught up to us: Leofrik and Thunderclap. They were flying at a flatter angle, almost hovering. For a second, I wondered if they didn't see us—until the reason they were taking so long became obvious.
One by one, the rest emerged. All of them kept an eye on each other, making sure that the whole group made it. Only when they got to Thunderclap's height did all of them finish the laborious ascent towards us.
The dragons and their humans were noticeably winded, having had no time to adjust. They really didn't fly up here that often—and definitely not as fast as we'd made them.
Astrid wouldn't have ever asked that of them. Hiccup and Toothless would have been right down there with them, making sure everyone was okay.
All I did was charge ahead without so much as a glance over my shoulder.
"Is everyone alright?" Eret said once they'd rejoined us. They all only nodded, which was proof enough of how not alright they probably felt.
I stared at my hands, shoulders hunched around my ears. Hookie whimpered. He gave a subtle nod to the others and crooned imploringly.
That, more than anything, made the shame hit like a gut-punch. Even Hookie thought I'd done wrong.
I took in a deep breath, braced myself, and blurted, "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have rushed ahead, I should have listened to Eret and I'm sorry you and your dragons are totally exhausted now! I get it if you think I'm the worst!"
Eret's eyebrows kicked up, but Anatoli managed a wry smile around his gasping. His mate clucked something at him and they both laughed. Hookfang ducked his head self-consciously.
"Settle down, lad!" Arduin laughed. "We're made of tougher stuff. We'll adjust." He gave Sting a firm pat, and he chirped an affirmation.
"Was he givin' ya trouble?" Hjalmar snickered, giving Eret a knowing look. Even old Downpour looked amused, although she was the most out-of-breath of anyone.
Eret, for his part, rolled his eyes. "Well, as stupidly reckless as all that was, I must admit…Snotlout was right. It's impossible to see the surface, which means we hopefully won't have an island-sized stowaway on our hands." He whipped towards me, pointing at me, and said, "Don't you let that get to your head."
I pulled up both my hands. "Nothing's going to my head! Head's empty!"
Even Eret couldn't hold down a smile at that. I grinned back at him. He groaned, ran a hand through his hair, and took in a deep breath. "Alright, everyone. Clouds won't last forever, and we've got a bored Bewilderbeast trackin' us. Let's make like a Night Fury and get gone."
"Oof," I hissed under my breath so only Hookie would hear. That joke would not have gone well if Hiccup and Toothless were here.
But they weren't here. They were out there, being important, doing important things.
I was here, with the perfect opportunity served up to me on a silver platter, and casting it aside.
My fingers tightened on the saddle. As we took off, I directed Hookie to stall until we were at the very back of the group. "We'll stay back here in case anyone needs help!" I called.
Eret, leading at the front, was almost too far away to read his expression. But I could have sworn he smiled before he turned around and headed south.
o.O.o
Several days went by with absolutely nothing to show for it. I took us along the known trading routes that Drago's pirates had used and found a whole lot of nothing. Then we checked out their old hideouts and found them all empty, even the ones we were sure they thought were well-hidden. Some of them still showed signs of recent occupation, with cookware still set and furniture upturned. The dragons tried to catch a scent, but everything was too old to follow. Nobody could find any letters or communication that would give us a hint of where they'd gone. There was no sign of Greek fire, either.
We did come upon the remains of a shipwreck, out in the middle of nowhere, with no islands nearby. Whatever it was, it'd been catastrophic. The flotsam must have made up either one very large vessel or several smaller ones. There were obviously no survivors that we could snatch up and interrogate. Only bits of wood that foretold that somewhere out here, people had died under the pitiless wrath of the ocean, and nobody would ever know who or why.
All in all, I was basically tearing my hair out with despair over how much time I was wasting. Going out to look for the raiders, and then stopping them before they did whatever it was they were planning, was my idea. It was the whole reason we'd left, and here I was, fumbling around, taking us on a glorified tour of the empty seas.
On the bright side, Tempy wasn't able to follow us as we hopped from island to island. On the downside, that made him that much angrier when, heads hanging, we returned from our completely useless mission. The moment we landed in the nest, he erupted from the central pool, spraying us in huge sheets of water, and roared at the top of his lungs.
"Tempy, enough!" Eret groaned, clapping his hands over his ears. All of the dragons in the nest were pawing at their ears and curling up. Poor Hookie actually fell over, he was so disorientated.
That was the last straw for me. Already frustrated and humiliated, I marched right up to the outcropping over the pool and hollered, "Cut it out! Not everything is about you!"
The deafening sound halted. My ears rang. Tempy's eyes met mine, and although I could tell he was clearly upset, he looked almost betrayed as well.
Scowling, I turned my back on him and went back to make sure Hookie was okay. He needed his saddle off, too, after such a long trip. The dumb thing had started rubbing again, and even though he tried to act like it was nothing, the last day had definitely been uncomfortable for him. He had some sores, which only made me feel worse. I'd oiled the saddle as best as I could before we'd left, and even that hadn't been enough.
"C'mon, Hookie, let's get this stupid thing fixed," I grumbled, stomping over to our tent. There I got some poultices to rub on the sores. Then I flopped on the ground and began mending the saddle, pouring all of my anger into redressing it with oil. It was going to stay soft this time, gods damn it!
The saddle was practically shining like a gemstone by the time Eret came over. "Aren't ya hungry, lad?"
"What?" I said. Eret gestured behind him, where the rest of our team had settled around the cookfire with some of the others who'd stayed behind in the nest. They were having what would be our first meal of the day, even though it was well past noon. My stomach rumbled, reminding me of its neglect.
All of the dragons still had their saddles on. They were reclined around the campfire and looked comfortable enough, but I still frowned.
"I'm almost done with this," I said, getting back to padding the frame of the saddle.
Hookie nudged my back. He snorted dismissively at the saddle and then gestured for me to go.
"It is a big deal, Hookie, and I'm not gonna half-ass it!" I snapped. Hookie narrowed his eyes, and I mirrored his expression, holding his stare. Eventually, he gave in and looked away, grumbling under his breath.
Eret thumped down next to me. "What's got you pouting now?"
A flash of hot anger raced through me. "I am not pouting," I ground out. "I just wish I hadn't wasted all of our time for so many days! We got nothing done and I was completely useless!"
Momentary surprise crossing his features. "We're co-captains, remember?" he said. "So if you were useless, that meant I was useless, too."
I scoffed and shook my head, but was too angry to come up with a smart retort. "It's not like that," I said lamely.
"Oh, it isn't?" Eret said, lifting a brow and giving me a pointed look.
Hunching my shoulders, I flapped an arm at him and said, "Well, we still didn't find anything, and I was the one leading us to all of the routes and camps."
"I'd say we found plenty," Eret said. "You showed us several hideouts we didn't know about. Not to mention a few trading routes I didn't realize they were dumb enough to sail through."
"But we didn't find anyone!" I groused.
"Yeah. That happens when you scout. You pick up scraps of information and piece it into the big picture. What were you expectin', to capture a few hostages and squeeze their grand plan outta them?"
"I was hoping for something like that," I admitted.
Eret grinned. "Well, that'd be too easy." He thumped me on the shoulder. "Now quit feelin' sorry for yourself and go get a meal. You'll get your chance next time."
I clenched my hands around the saddle. "What if next time is just like this time?"
"The odds are very unlikely that you're going to get some big, heroic moment," Eret said, getting up and dusting himself off. "That only happens in the stories. Most of the time we have small victories, and we take what we can get." He nodded at the saddle. "Besides, even you've taught me a thing or two."
Hookie bumped his nose into me encouragingly. He even nodded to show how much he agreed. I sighed and wrapped an arm around his head, scratching him in his favorite spot.
"Small isn't good enough," I muttered. "I have to do something big and important."
"No, what you have to do is temper your expectations," Eret said sternly. "I can't have a co-captain who mopes after every mission that ends short of epic glory. We're gettin' real work done, even if it's not the most glamorous. That's what's important."
With that, he spun on his heel and walked away. As he got to the campfire, he began telling the others something. Probably something about how annoying I was.
Hookie pressed his head up against my side and gurgled. He nipped the saddle and yanked it out of my hands.
"Ugh, fine!" I groaned. I got up and stretched my aching muscles. I guess I could do with some food.
At the cookfire, though, I was the only one who actually sat down and started to eat. Everyone's bowls had been put down, food half-eaten. The others had all dropped everything and were tending to the dragons, taking their saddles off and checking for sores and injuries.
"Sorry, old gal," Hjalmar murmured to Downpour. He caught my eye and smiled wryly. "Thanks for settin' an example, lad."
My brow furrowed. "Um…you're welcome?" I looked around to see if anyone else could figure out why he was thanking me, but all of them were too busy.
The dragons, however, all made sure to catch my attention. Each of them grinned or dipped their head in acknowledgement, sighing as the saddles dropped to the ground one by one.
o.O.o
Back on Berk, Tempy and Hookie were actually pretty good friends. Hookie was one of the first dragons from Berk who had befriended him, and they regularly played when Eret and his crew visited. There had even been a few times where Astrid and I had been on "Tempy duty", keeping him distracted with Stormfly and Hookie so that he wouldn't try to climb onto the island. After Hookie and I had moved to his nest, we'd been pretty busy with our new duties, but Hookie had still had time to play with Tempy every now and then. Tempy had really seemed to like it, kind of like he got to have his own sleepover with Hookie.
Now Tempy was giving Hookie the cold shoulder.
Whenever Hookie flew up to him to chat, he turned away or dove underwater. He made a point of not even looking at Hookie and me, even if he was talking with other people or dragons. He even went out of his way to passive-aggressively splash us any chance he got. More than once, when he'd gone fishing and helped feed the nest, the torrent of fish had been aimed directly at us.
Poor Hookie was devastated.
I, on the other hand, was pissed off on his behalf.
"What is his problem?!" I said to Eret, gesturing at Tempy as he turned a full semicircle in his spot so that he didn't have to look at Hookie. Hookie flew around him, and he just turned again. It almost looked like a game, but judging by the Bewilderbeast's stormy expression, it was easy to tell that he was intentionally being mean.
Eret and his crew were all trying not to laugh, which was not helping. He covered his mouth, mastered his expression, and almost got a response out before Tempy spun around again and got him laughing again.
"C'mon, guys, it's not funny!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. "Poor Hookie is spinning himself in circles over this! Literally!"
Hookie chose that moment to cry out pitifully, pleading with Tempy to listen. Tempy made a show of being interested in some rocks. A few of the older dragons in his nest, like Anatoli and the Stormcutter, flew around him and scolded him. He ignored them all.
"Don't worry, he'll get bored with it eventually," Eret finally said once he'd gotten his laughs out. "He does this every now and then when we go out without him."
"Where'dya think he got his name?" Sirko snickered. "Acts like a toddler, that one."
"Because he is one," said Leofrik. "Remember that he is only a few years old. Try to be patient."
"Patient?" I repeated. "He's being a complete jerk! Hookie doesn't deserve this!"
Hookie finally gave up and landed next to me, crestfallen. Anatoli, the Stormcutter, and a few of the other dragons in our crew came up to comfort him. He shoved his snout into my arms and I hugged him.
"Don't worry, Hookie, it's not your fault," I reassured him. He looked up at me with sad, hopeful eyes, and I wanted to scream at Tempy for making him feel so bad. I scowled at him, knowing he was peeking at us from the corners of his eyes, and said loudly, "Tempy is just upset that he didn't get to come with us, but instead of being mature about it, he's making his anger your problem!"
A wave of frosty air barreled into us, freezing clumps of snow onto my hair. With a growl, Tempy dove underwater and swam out to sea.
"Yep, that went about as expected," Eret said. "Anyways! While he's gone, let's plan our next scouting mission."
I petted Hookie as we all sat down around the cookfire and began brainstorming. Every now and then, someone would peek into the lake to make sure he wasn't lurking at the bottom and eavesdropping. Part of me had a hard time concentrating for some reason. I felt almost bad, but I didn't know why. I just felt bad for Hookie.
I mean, who does that? Who just ignores their friends and makes them feel bad, even when it clearly hurts their feelings and they're trying to talk? Who just sits there and sulks and hopes everyone notices how mad they are and fixes the problem?
I met my reflection's eyes in the undisturbed lake water. A pit opened up in my stomach as I literally stared the answer in the face.
Gods, no wonder Astrid and Toothless had been so angry with me.
I barely heard any of the rest of the plan. When we wrapped up, I grabbed Hookie's horn and whispered in his ear, "I have an idea."
His eyes lit up. He ran to our tent, got his saddle, and brought it over to me. As I saddled him up, he wiggled with excitement, which made attaching it much harder.
Eret, of course, noticed right away. "And just where do you think you're going?" he asked.
"Just fixing some dragon drama!" I said, leaping up into the saddle. "We can't work as a team when our biggest teammate is off pouting, right?"
Eret's brows kicked up. "Right…and what's your plan?"
"I have a knack for solving interpersonal conflict," I bragged. "C'mon, Hookie!"
We took off, easily skirting through the maze of ice spikes and out into the open air. We circled above the nest a few times before catching the characteristic wake Tempy left behind. It looked like he had gone into a full sprint, rushing away from the nest as fast as he could. It led south.
"We got a lotta ground to cover," I told Hookie. "Ready to catch him?"
"Yeah!" Hookie chirped, hope in his voice. He took off at his fastest speed, forcing me to flatten against the saddle.
Even as fast as he flew—which was very fast—it still took a long time to catch up. The sun was starting to dip close to the ocean and we were miles and miles out from the nest when we finally saw a burst of water on the horizon.
"Almost there!" I encouraged a panting Hookie. "C'mon, let's go!"
Hookie steadied himself and gave a final burst of speed. The Bewilderbeast grew larger and larger until, suddenly, he was right underneath us and we were flying right past him.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, "TEMPY!" Hookie helped with his loudest roar.
The enormous tidal wave trailing above Tempy jostled as he came to an abrupt stop. His crown of spines erupted from the water, followed by his head and torso as he managed to sit up on the ocean floor. He stared in shock as Hookie fluttered over to him and practically collapsed on top of his tusk.
"Gods, you can swim really fast!" I complained. "It took us literally all day to catch up to you!"
Tempy looked back over his shoulder, as if he could possibly see the nest from all the way out here. When he looked back at us, there was some accusation in his eyes. He rumbled something.
"What are you even doing out here?" I complained. "You never go this far from the nest. Why did you pick today, of all days, to go out this far?"
He shook his head, which jostled Hookie and I so bad that we actually fell off. Hookie flapped us back up to his tusk, panting hard, and Tempy at least looked a little guilty. He growled in his deep voice.
Hookie snapped his head up and gasped so clearly even I could understand him, "What?!" He craned his neck around to look at me and pointed his nose at Tempy, pointed further south, and then mimed swatting at something and pouncing on it.
It took me a moment, and then I whipped towards Tempy and shouted, "You were going after the raiders?!"
Tempy, the idiot, actually puffed up with pride and snorted. I didn't need a translation to know that he said "yes".
"Tempy!" I scolded. "Are you crazy?! That's…" I stopped. "Not a bad idea, actually. But you know Eret and Anatoli said you couldn't come."
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, pinning the spines of his crown.
"Look," I said, "I get it. Way more than you can imagine. But lemme tell you the lesson I learned the hard way. Getting mad about Eret's decision and taking it out on Hookie? Not cool!" When he looked downcast, I went on, "Yeah, that's right! Really sit on that! Because you know who you're not helping when you do that? You! When you act like that, and run off like this, you just make other people think you can't be trusted!"
He winced, and I knew personally how much it stung to be told that hard truth. But it was a good thing Eret had told me when he did, and Tempy needed someone to give it to him straight—not beat around the bush or act like he was too young to understand.
"But lucky for you, I have a plan!"
Tempy and Hookie both perked up, eyes hopeful.
"First," I said, holding a finger up, "you're gonna apologize to Hookie."
Hookie lowered his head bashfully and started to mumble a protest, but Tempy talked over him, crooning with genuine regret. Pawing at his tusk, Hookie rolled his shoulders and chirped. Tempy bounced a little, making us nearly lose our footing again.
"There you go, see how easy that was?" I said. "Now, second—"
A shrill squeal came from above, followed by the thundercrack of lightning.
A crimson dragon plummeted from the clouds, scales smoking. Hot on their tail was a group of Skrills lighting up the sky with their lightning. Tempy roared up at them. All of them skidded into hovers before whipping around and fleeing, leaving their prey behind.
"Uh, you gonna catch them?" I shouted as the dragon tumbled, wings crumpled.
Tempy leapt out of the ocean, flinging Hookie and me off of his tusk. He managed to line up his head just below the falling dragon before colliding with them, and then crashed back into the water, sending a monstrosity of a wave up into the air. Hookie dove through it, and for a moment we were underwater up in the sky. Then he burst through the wave and dove, landing just next to the dragon on Tempy's forehead. I dismounted and started to approach them, but Hookie shot out a wing to stop me, growling a warning.
The dragon was no species I'd ever seen before, crimson and black-scaled, with insect-like forepaws and a wicked stinger for a tail. They were covered in burn wounds old and new, as well as several bites and scrapes.
They were wearing a collar. A broken glass object protruded from it. Part of the collar had been badly burned. It was just a few threads away from ripping in half.
The dragon's eyelids fluttered. With a whimper, they collapsed.
I ran over to them—well, Hookie let me run over—and gently ran my hand on the soft spot below their muzzle. There, I could feel a thready heartbeat. Still alive, but barely.
"Tempy!" I said, and he needed no other instruction. He spun back north and took off like a living tsunami, charging through the water even faster than Hookie and I could ever hope to fly.
I kept my hand on the dragon's muzzle to make sure they were still okay. A spot of darkness against their pale gums caught my eye. Brows furrowing, I gently pushed the dragon's lip up and saw a piece of…something stuck in between its teeth. I picked it out—and then almost dropped it with a gasp. Hookie looked over my shoulder and whined.
There, once wedged deep in the dragon's teeth, was a Night Fury scale.
o.O.o
The stranger—a male, Hookie soon managed to tell me—was placed in a small alcove within the ice nest. At the entrance, a ridiculous number of dragons stood guard. The dragons here were wary of strangers, but ironically, it was the collar that earned him some mercy. These dragons knew dragon-trappers, and had helped out more than once with our missions. So instead of putting him in an actual cage, the stranger was just under heavy guard instead.
Eret's grim expression when I handed him the collar confirmed my suspicions. "Grimmel." He narrowed his eyes at the strange dragon. "That there is a Deathgripper. Nasty beast."
"But Grimmel's supposed to be way up north," I said. "What's one of his dragons doing here?"
"That's the big question, isn't it?" Eret said. He tried to get closer to the Deathgripper, but Anatoli nipped the back of his shirt like a scruff and yanked him back. "Agh! I'm fine, ya oversized chameleon!"
Anatoli flattened his eyelids. The dragons around him hustled in closer, each of them narrow-eyed with determination. Nobody was getting through that wall of overprotective scales.
"Does it mean Grimmel's actually here?" I wondered aloud. "Maybe Hiccup and the others won't run into him then."
Eret crossed his arms, shaking his head. "No. Somethin's not adding up." He examined the collar. "Grimmel's known about dragon-scale paint far longer than you all have. It would've taken a very close and powerful blast to set this on fire."
My stomach dropped all the way down to my feet. "And there was a Night Fury scale in his teeth."
Did that mean that they hadn't even made it south? Had they all been intercepted, attacked by these things? Were they out there now, captured and needing help? The idea first brought a sense of guilty elation—it would be awesome to swoop in to the rescue—but it was quickly swallowed up by fear. From what Eret had told us of Grimmel, he was more than capable of killing Night Furies.
"When I worked for Grimmel," Eret said with some distaste, "I witnessed him kill many Night Furies. He had a special hate for them. He'd toy with 'em, let 'em really know they were bein' hunted."
I wrinkled my nose. "Isn't he supposed to be some big folk hero or something? That's so cowardly!"
"Yeah, I always found his huntsmanship lacking," Eret said. "But the good news is: if he did run into them, he probably didn't kill them outright."
"Then there's still time!" I said. Hookie was already scooping me up, and I strapped myself into the saddle easily. "Let's go!"
Hookie opened his wings and roared. Tempy, who had been listening in from his lake, let out a cry that made every dragon in the nest jolt.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Eret shouted, leaping in front of Hookie and me with his palms outstretched. "No, no we are not going to just 'go'! We need to know what we're headin' into first!"
Hookie drooped, lowering me back down to Eret's eye level. "Then let's get our team and go scouting!" I said. "Isn't that the point of it? To collect bits of information and get the big picture?"
"Precisely," Eret said, poking a finger at me. "And what do we have at our disposal to get that information?" Although I already knew the answer, he gestured at the unconscious Deathgripper.
"We don't have Hiccup," I protested. "We can't understand what he says."
"No," Eret agreed, "but you seem to understand what he says just fine." He nodded at Hookie.
Hookie and I shared a look. Hookie's eyes shone with his characteristic worry and he gurgled a question.
I, on the other hand, grinned. A special job that only we could do? "We can do that!" I said. "We'll squeeze out every bit of info that Deathgripper has!"
Hookie returned my smile and puffed himself up. "Okay!"
"Good." Eret ran his fingers over the burn marks covering the collar, and a flash of worry crossed his features. "And you better make it quick."
o.O.o
The only thing "quick" about learning from the Deathgripper was how confused he made us.
He was weird. There really wasn't any other way to put it. When he woke up, he reacted with obvious fear, curling up at the back of his alcove. Even I could tell that the way he was speaking was just strange. He cried like a newborn hatchling, gaping his jaw to beg for food.
Hookie and I approached him under the dutiful watch of basically the entire nest. Hookie barfed up a gross lunch for him, which he practically inhaled. When the meal was gone, he licked his teeth and began begging for more. Judging by Hookie's baffled expression, what he was saying didn't make sense.
"What is it?" I asked. The Deathgripper swung his eyes to me and lowered his head submissively, peeping and fluttering his wings. Like a baby. "You just ate," I told him. He went on begging like I hadn't said anything.
Hookie asked him a question. The Deathgripper looked at him like a sheep, like he didn't actually register anything. Which was weird. When you talked to any dragon, even if they didn't understand you, you could always tell that they were listening and thinking. But this dragon didn't really respond to anything spoken to him, in dragon-tongue or in Norse.
Hookie clawed the ground and whipped his tail. I specifically caught him introducing himself, "...I'm Hookfang…" He pointed at me with his snout and gave my name, too.
The Deathgripper went on garbling, clacking his jaw. He spoke right over Hookie.
"Is he deaf or something?" I said. "Hookie, hold his attention."
Hookie started talking louder, creeping a step closer to the Deathgripper. The second the Deathgripper turned his back to me, I scooped up a rock and threw it as hard as I could at the alcove wall. It cracked against the ice. The Deathgripper squawked and spun around, tail standing straight up and poised to strike.
"So definitely not deaf—woah!"
The Deathgripper whipped towards me, tusks snapping out their full length. Hookfang shrieked. He leapt between me and the Deathgripper and exploded into flames. Literally. I stumbled a few steps back, blinking against the intense heat. The Deathgripper did the same, squealing and throwing himself against the wall.
Hookie let his flames fade. He lowered his head and bared all of his teeth in a wicked snarl. The Deathgripper crept away from him, avoiding his eyes. He made a small, high-pitched keen that I normally only heard from hatchlings when they were left alone. This, again, made Hookie stop, totally confused.
I stepped around Hookie and eyed the Deathgripper, who was putting a pretty good effort into making himself as small as possible. "What's up with him?"
Hookie squinted his eyes in deep concentration, rumbling in thought and tapping his claws. It must be something hard to explain, judging by how much time it was taking him to work it out. But he figured it out soon enough, just like I knew he would.
Hookie pointed at me and said, "Snotlout." Then he gestured at himself. "Hookfang." Then he gestured between us and garbled out several of the words I recognized, "Yeah no maybe I-dunno fish food dinner flying fire Snotlout Hookfang!" Then he looked at me with big, bright eyes.
"Okaaay…" I said. "Words…and stuff?"
Hookfang nodded with a huge smile. He made the same gesture between himself and the Deathgripper. But this time, he opened his jaw wide and said…nothing. He then looked at me expectantly.
Alright, I was usually a pro at understanding him, but this was a tough one. I held my chin in my hand, brows furrowed. "So…words between us…" He nodded. "And…nothing between you and him." He nodded more exuberantly, wiggling in place.
The Deathgripper seemed to realize we weren't going to attack him and crawled towards us on his belly, peeping for food again.
"Nothing between you and him…" I repeated, studying the blank desperation in the Deathgripper's eyes.
Hookie said something to the Deathgripper, who only looked at him and kept on squawking and fluttering his wings.
"Nothing…oh!" I jolted upright and grabbed Hookie by the horns. "He doesn't know how to speak!"
Hookie cheered and jumped, swinging me around like a ragdoll. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Ha! We did it!" I cheered, my voice rattling with all the movement. Hookie set me down and I held up a hand for a high-five, which he promptly returned with his wing-talons. "Now we can figure out what Grimmel's…"
I trailed off. Hookie tipped his head, waiting for me to go on.
"Oh, gods damn it!" I shouted.
"What?"
"He can't speak!" I moaned. The Deathgripper, right on cue, butted between us and peeped for more food.
Hookie tilted his head, looked at the Deathgripper, then looked at me again. The moment he came to the same realization as me, he threw his head back and groaned.
Eret, to say the least, was not happy with the news.
o.O.o
Astrid wasn't happy with the news, either.
Astrid, Fishlegs, and I stood in the old Kill Ring, which had been refurbished into a dragon daycare. Baby dragons typically stayed with their parents—except for when they were in trouble. One thing the dragons had learned from the Vikings a long time ago was the world's most powerful child-rearing tool: the timeout. Now, when hatchlings or fledglings misbehaved, their parents would drag them kicking and screaming to the ring, throw 'em inside, and wait for them to be sorry.
The only issue was that throwing a bunch of troublemakers into a pen all by themselves just meant that they got guaranteed playtime without any interruptions. More and more young dragons caught on to this—especially the fledglings, who then had an excuse to not do any chores—and started intentionally getting in trouble so that they could come to the Ring and play with their friends. Several of the young Viking children flocked to the place, too, which only made the issue worse.
Eventually, the Ring stopped being a place for punishment, but more a place of relief for parents, both draconic and human. Hiccup and Toothless had not liked the idea—Toothless had gone so far as to suggest blowing the whole place off the map—but they eventually had to admit that it was a handy place to have. Especially after all of the problems with the source a few years back, when disobedient fledglings could just take off whenever they wanted and disappear.
Or, in this case, an adult dragon that had less language skills than a one-month old hatchling.
The Deathgripper seemed right at home in the Ring, trotting around and sniffing everything. He didn't seem to care about the metal caging overhead. He quickly found the feeding area and began to chow down, much to the dismay of the hatchlings and fledglings who had stayed behind to watch. All of them had been evicted from the Ring before we brought the Deathgripper in, but that didn't stop them from climbing on top of the caging outside, peeping angrily to have their playpen back.
Astrid frowned, studying the Deathgripper like he was a puzzle that had a piece missing. She'd had Stormfly and Meatlug confirm for us what Hookie and I already knew: he had no language at all. Then she'd gone as far as to rope some of the dragon elders in. A few of them stood inside the pen with us, staring at the Deathgripper in consternation. He apparently gave off a very weird vibe, judging by how uncomfortable he made literally every dragon around him. Except Stormfly.
"Those are definitely Night Fury claw-marks," Fishlegs said, pointing out the still-healing injuries. "They've got about the same measurements as Toothless, too."
"And the bite wounds?" Astrid asked.
"Yes, but there are some bites about the same age that came from a much bigger dragon with a long, narrow snout." He rubbed his chin. "Whatever fight he was in, there was at least one other dragon there. And, of course, there's some even fresher wounds from the Skrills."
Stormfly crooned sympathetically. She desperately wanted to play with the Deathgripper and was very annoyed that Astrid wouldn't let her. Hookie stood next to her, trying his best to look involved and important.
"Was this other dragon a friend or foe?" Astrid wondered aloud.
None of us said the obvious: that if the other dragon had also been attacking Toothless, then his chances were even worse.
"He seems to be very well-adjusted to humans," Fishlegs said. "He let me study him from snout to tail without any complaining. He just wanted food."
"That's all he does," I said. "He begs for food, sleeps, and follows us around. And that's basically it. Look, here he comes now."
Right on cue, the Deathgripper walked over to us, having finished off half the food barrel. He curled up at our feet, closed his eyes, and was almost instantly asleep. Stormfly leaned closer to sniff him, and Meatlug snapped her back with a fierce growl, eyeing him with distrust.
We all stood there. The Deathgripper snored.
"Welp, he's your problem now! Good luck!" I turned on my heel and headed for the exit. "C'mon, Hookie, we gotta stop by the forge."
"Woah, woah, woah!" Astrid grabbed my arm. "Just where exactly are you going? You can't just dump him on us and leave!"
"I'm not dumping him on you," I reasoned, trying to pry my arm from her iron grip. "I'm giving you…uh…study material! I'm sure Fishlegs will figure out something from him, just like how he knew there was another dragon in the fight."
Fishlegs smiled bashfully. "I actually would love to have him stay. I've never catalogued this species before, not to mention the possibility of learning more about Grimmel."
"See? He's way more useful here. Besides, he freaks Tempy out, which makes living in his nest the worst." I stopped being gentle with her hand and began trying to yank her fingers off. No luck with that, either.
Astrid quirked an eyebrow, let me struggle for a little bit more, and then snapped her hand open. I made a show of rubbing my arm, although there wasn't even a bruise left behind. Hookie bought it and sniffed my arm just to make sure.
"Fine," she said. To Fishlegs, she added, "He's your responsibility now. Don't let him cause any trouble."
"Aye-aye, Chief!" Fishlegs said with a grin and mock salute. He had somehow produced a notebook and pencil, the open page already half-full.
I grimaced. Right. Astrid was acting Chief here. Not me.
She didn't let any of us dwell on that. "What do you mean you're going to the forge?" she asked. "Does Eret anticipate needing more supplies?"
I shook myself off, trying to get rid of the sudden, sinking feeling in my gut. "Nah, I'm just working off a hunch." Patting Hookie, I said, "You don't think I'd make him carry a whole supply shipment, do you? Not that it would be hard for him or anything."
"Alright, then," she said, "but don't go taking too many supplies. I'm going to need to use more from the armory. We've also got to increase patrols and make sure every ship has a dragon escort. And I need to ask Gobber for his help with a project." She grabbed Stormfly's saddle and swung up into it with ease.
"What kind of project?" I asked. Fishlegs also looked intrigued.
"I'll tell you if it works!" Astrid promised. She offered a grin. "Keep up the good work, Snotlout!"
I couldn't help but stand up a little straighter, the sinking-stomach feeling whisked away. Astrid patted Stormfly, and she charged out of the Ring and took off. Hookie and I left soon afterwards, winging towards the forge. It took some looking through Hiccup's cluttered work area, but eventually I found what we needed.
Hookie sniffed the hefty parcels I'd attached to his saddle rig and asked, "What's this?"
"Just some extra security," I said, finishing up the knotwork. I took a quick strut around him, making sure everything was snug, and nodded with satisfaction.
The hollow feeling ambushed me again. My shoulders drooped.
"Although…I really hope we won't need it."