Hiccup & Toothless' Fate

Chapter 15 - Emerging Allies

(Hiccup POV)

Weeks later, Berk had started to recover. An extremely lucky week of warmer weather had melted some of the snow, watering the ground and letting tough and tasteless crops poke their straggly heads through the dirt. Some of the yaks and chickens had even begun to produce milk and eggs again, although they were still few and far between. The people themselves were improving as well, but they had taken the news that they were receiving help from the 'Dragon Chief' with bad grace. The deep bruise I had received from a thrown stone still twinged whenever I moved my shoulder, even weeks later. Toothless, the other dragons and I avoided the main village as much as possible to prevent a likely catastrophe. It had worked so far. We only really went into the village whenever a wild dragon was bold enough to go near, or when Stoick requested our presence.

But the deal was working, and currently, that was all that mattered.

The last few days had been quiet, with barely any dragon activity at all. Which meant, of course, that there would be an attack, and soon.

Sure enough, only a few hours after sunrise, the deep note of the horn that signaled an attack pierced through the air, loud enough to be heard all the way over here in the cove. Toothless immediately shot up from where he was curled, ear nubs upright and muscles tense. I latched my sword to my waist, abandoning the shirt I had been repairing and slinging a shield onto my back. I mounted the saddle, already strapped to Toothless, with an easy movement. With a powerful jump and flap of his wings we launched into the air, arriving at the village in barely any time at all. Raiding dragons already swarmed the buildings, plucking sheep from the ground and terrorizing the villagers. They were fighting back, of course – one Viking was participating in a tug-o-war with a dark purple Nadder, a sheep caught in a net between them. Another Viking rushed the two of them, slicing the net neatly with an axe before swinging and turning towards the Nadder. The Nadder, now with only a mouthful of rope instead of their hoped-for prize, spat it out angrily and readied their tail spines.

From our position on the outcrop above the village, I could see that the situation could and would worsen in seconds. Before that happened, however, I directed Toothless to blast the ground in between the two of them. Startled, the Nadder flew off, unharmed. The Viking had a similar reaction – flinching at the original blast, then spinning and giving Toothless and I a rude gesture before running off.

Well, screw you too. I just saved your life, muttonhead.

It went this way for the next few minutes. Toothless and I would scout out something threatening – to either Viking or dragon – and would interfere. The Nadder, Nightmare, and Gronkle I had brought with me were helping out as well, flapping and growling threateningly towards the attackers and defenders. The Zippleback I had left in the cove – last raid they had tried to join in with the assault, though the mischievous glint in their eyes told that they were only participating because they enjoyed the destruction and chaos.

Quicker than expected, the raiding dragons were turned away, flying off to the north-west with empty talons. I rubbed Toothless' broad head in a silent 'well done'. We went to turn away, but a yell made us look back. The same Nadder from before, the purple one, had backed Fishlegs' mother into a corner. Cowering behind her was an adolescent yak who had been chased into the village, small face scared and braying in terrified helplessness. Frida held only the handle of her axe to protect them both – the metal blade, now separate, dinted, and damaged almost beyond repair, lay metres out of reach. The Nadder twitched and readied her flame, intent on getting rid of the human that stood between her and her prey – only for the shot to miss as Toothless and I slammed into her. The Nadder shook her head, disorientated and annoyed. Leaping off Toothless, I ran forward to hide myself in her blind spot, shielding Frida and the yak calf. The Nadder went to attack, only to stop and smell the air, senses telling her that there was something there. Moving her head side to side to try to see me in front of her, I simply followed her movements. The sword on my waist swung with my movements, but I did not reach for it yet. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Toothless, teeth bared, ready to charge in if needed. Behind him hovered the form of Fishlegs, frantically looking on. He himself held a mace. If he rushed the Nadder now, she could attack and injure anyone around her – and in this case, I was closest. Lucky me.