For Milady

EIGHTEEN: Reactions

"What happened to her?" he demanded. "Did you attack her?" Ragnar shook his head, a false expression of worry on his face.

"Of course not, Chief!" he protested. "In fact, when we arrived, we saw the dragon attack her, throwing her aside and when Lars went to help her, the beast killed him!"

Kjetil stared at them grimly and then looked around the little space, seeing the crumpled shape of Lars, the two spines sticking out of his chest. His sword was naked and still clasped in his dead hand. The findings didn't match the story.

"Not...true..." Astrid murmured, her lips tinged with blue. Her hand rested tenderly on the side of her abdomen. "They were in the stable. They wanted to kill her. Hit Morten on head...so Lars threw me against wall. Then Stormfly protected me. Wanted to kill...us both..." Hjordis wrapped her cloak around the curled woman and looked up angrily at the Chief. Kjetil was scarlet with rage.

"How dare you?" he roared. "You attack the dragon-which was granted protection by me in person-and attempt to murder the woman who saved the village. And you compound your crimes by lying to me and attempting to blame the dragon for your actions!"

"That beast is dangerous!" Ragnar protested. "It killed Lars! It must be destroyed."

"Lars attacked Astrid!" Hjordis snapped. "The dragon protected her after she had been attacked from being killed! The attack could have killed the baby..."

"Still kicking..." Astrid murmured. "But I hurt...all over..." Kjetil looked up into the acid-yellow eyes of the Nadder and nodded.

"Thank you," he murmured and leaned forward, lifting the young woman in his arms. "I promise we will look after her." There was a pause and she squawked as Astrid shifted.

"No..." she murmured. "Not without her..." She craned her head and looked lovingly awards the dragon. "She's...in danger..." Hjordis looked at her in worry and then she smiled.

"Chief...I have an idea," she said.

oOo

Frustration barely covered what Hiccup felt as he limped around the cave and back, casting jaundiced looks towards the windbreak they had built to keep the little cave warm. Toothless was asleep by the far wall, the stone glowing with the residual warmth from his plasma fire that he had used to warm it to red heat while Heather and Dagur were seated in the opposite corner, discussing matters on Berserk, especially the new Treaties that Dagur was still negotiating with the other Tribes.

"You know-you could help me with this," Dagur commented, looking up at the pacing shape of Hiccup. Ignoring him, the auburn-haired Viking paced to the far wall and turned back.

"Oh, I doubt that," Hiccup muttered, scowling as he limped back. It had been ten days since his fever broke and the blizzards hadn't eased up. Toothless's wing was taking longer than anticipated to heal and though he was consumed with impatience, Hiccup wouldn't force his dragon to try to fly before he was healed. He knew that brave, faithful Toothless would try if asked-but he would be in pain and could end crippled. And the dragon chafed at the restriction as much as his Rider and wanted to fly just as badly. Fishlegs had headed back to Berk when Dagur returned, bringing with him an interesting selection of items he had found in Hiccup's room in Berk. Not that the one-legged Viking wasn't grateful but the thought of Dagur rifling through his possessions made him feel a little...weird. He knew that Dagur had been attracted to him in the past and he was feeling very uncomfortable about him looking through his private journals.

"You know, you're absolutely cute when you're sulking," the Berserker Chief teased him and Hiccup growled in his throat. It was still sore from all the abuse he had endured but it was healing.