Hiccup's P.O.V
By morning Heather was doing better, her natural rosy flush had returned to her cheeks and her scratches had all scabbed over. Astrid stayed up all night watching over her, refusing to sleep or let any of the guards come near her friend. She had seen how ruthless they had become, and wasn't going to take any chances.
Of course I could expect no less from her, she was Astrid after all. She had seen cruelty on Dead North Island herself from Viggo, as well as the rest of the rides have for all of our lives. But that was Viggo, and this was Ama. As cruel and sadistic as he had been somehow we all knew that Ama was much worse.
And yet I worried for her. The dark circles painted beneath her icy blue eyes and the bruises littering her body stabbed a fresh wound in my heart each time I saw them. She needed to sleep and keep her strength for the challenges.
"Astrid, you need to sleep. Just for a bit." I pleaded, taking her hands in both of mine. "We don't know when you'll be called for your challenge, and you being sleep deprived won't help."
"How can I sleep when she's like that though? How can any of us?"
"Because it is going to be all of us eventually. We need to keep our wits about us, you won't be able to help her, yourself, or any of us if you're running ragged." Despite my fears and worries my usual strength found me for the first time since Astrid's disappearance. At least one of us had to be strong until the rest of us caught up, it would do us no good to have two sleep deprived and anxious people in this conversation.
Astrid opens her mouth, presumably to concede, when the door to the small cell swings open, and in steps no other than Ama herself.
"Easy." She purrs, seeing us all preparing to attack. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to heal your friend before we take the next contestant." I inhaled a sharp breath. Please don't let it be Astrid. Not today, not when she is so tired she can barely walk straight.
"Fishlegs Ingerman." I tried to hide my sigh of relief, and felt a pang of guilt when I saw the horror so clearly written across his face. How could I hope for the fate to be passed from her to someone else?
Ama juts her chin in the direction of the sleeping form of Heather, and then the rest of us. Two guards escorted Fishlegs out first, before the third guard picks up Heather. Astrid lunged for the raven haired girl, but my arms firmly encircled her waist, holding her exhausted form in place.
"They're going to heal her, remember?" I murmured in her ear, feeling her slump defeated against my chest. The remaining guards step forward to escort each of us to gods know where. I glared defensively when one of the guards tries to tear her from my grasp, but it is Astrid who lands a strong blow to his jaw when he wrapped his large fist around her arm.
"I can walk myself." She hissed, yanking her arm back and following the rest out the door, her chin raised high in defiance. Ama smirked and mumbled something to herself, before falling into step beside me.
"She really is something special. She reminds me of your father back in the day. Always the warrior, always strong even to the point of breaking. So young and yet so ready to lay her life on the line for these people every day. You've chosen a good chieftess." The redhead notes, her fine black gown trailing behind us both like a sultry midnight river.
"What's your point?"
"And you remind me of your mother. Valka." She spat my mother's name as if it were poison upon her tongue, and I fought the urge to strangle her now and be done with this. "Driven by passion despite the intellect hiding right there between those unassuming eyes. You want peace, though sometimes the only way to achieve this peace is through war."
"And is that what you think this is? Attaining peace?"
"By the gods." She brings a hand up to cup my cheek, stopping the whole party. "You look so much like her right now. I almost though that you were her."
A strong pale hand gripped my assailant's wrist, causing her to lower her hand from my face.
"You do not touch him." My betrothed grited out from between clenched teeth, heat practically radiating from her seething frame. Ama only smirked and dropped her hand, wiping her wrist with a cloth where Astrid's hand had been.
"It's showtime."
Astrid's P.O.V
Ama had sat all of us down in a gated stand near the arena, far enough away that we couldn't help our friend but close enough that we could see him. Heather had been returned to us, her wounds treated and a glass of water in her hand. I sneered at the mock hospitality, but was relieved that she had been treated nonetheless.
"Now here before you we have none other than Fishlegs Ingerman." Ama's unnaturally white and sharp teeth caught the torchlight as she speaks. "Who has turned his back on the family name as to rather be a dragon rider."
A round of booing circled through the arena, some of the hunters began throwing rocks through the bars and towards the husky blonde viking.
"And I'm better off for it." He said loud enough for them to hear the tremble in his voice. The villainess smiled darkly.
"Let us see how better off you are today. Raise the doors and let the beast out!"
A cage at the end of the arena slowly begins to lift, and from the dark steps out a dragon, silver in color with glowing green eyes.
"Windshear!" Heather jolted forward only to be restrained. Just what were they doing with her dragon?
Fishlegs gulped nervously, they didn't expect them to kill Heather's dragon... did they?
It was then that he noticed something was off, right about the same time that the rest of us did as well. Windshear's eyes were unfocused, her pupils shrunken to the point where she looked nearly feral. Her steps were frantic as she bolted from the cage, her tail manacled and swinging rapidly across the sandy arena.
"No, no something's wrong with her." Hiccup noticed, rewarding himself with a patronizing smile from Ama.
"The young Heather's dragon has been poisoned." She explained as gasps ring out through the crowd. "You, Fishlegs, must identify the poison and create the antidote. You have the table set before you to do so."
"You're a monster!" Heather cried, struggling to get free of her restraints. Ama only tutted her tongue and watched as the husky viking sprinted to the table and began sorting through the medicines, searching for some invisible clue amongst the herbs.
"Have some faith in your viking friend Heather." She wickedly grinned. "After all Fishlegs, need I remind you what happens if you fail?"
My fists clenched at my sides. She didn't need to remind any of us, we all know. We fail and we die. Even if Fishlegs were able to pass this trial but something happened to Windshear... Heather could maybe forgive him eventually, but he could never forgive himself. We all knew as much as he frantically whimpered and stared back at the staggering dragon.
"I'll bet your Ingerman ancestors must be so ashamed right now." Ama crooned from her dais. A few of the hunters in the crowd jeered at that, all wearing a tiny helmet identical to Fishlegs'.
"I hope they are." The stocky Viking spat back, refusing to let the villainess see how he sweat. She tapped her chin with a well manicured finger, all the while staring him down as the blonde boy searched for the answer.
"Well, I'm sure they'd rest easier if you failed." Ama smiled, a brilliant and dazzling feline smile. She cast her gaze up to the crowd and laughed along with them, an imitation of the perfect hostess. "What a predicament for our young contestant! Fail and die, or pass and damn himself once he reaches Valhalla, or wherever he may go."
Hiccup could see that despite Fishlegs' best efforts her words were getting to him. His hand hesitated over the willow bark before her cursed himself and ground his palms into his eyes. He was never going to leave this arena alive, and neither was this dragon.
Then I remembered where we had last seen this type of behavior. When we thought Stormfly was poisoned. Fishlegs seems to recall this too as he checks her pupils and her pulse. She was fading and fading fast. Only one type of venom could cause a dragon to deteriorate so quickly.
"Slitherwing! You poisoned her with Slitherwing venom!" He deduced, wiping all the herbs from the table except the angel fern root and the pine sap. "I'm going to need you to bring me some Slitherwing venom since it is required in the antidote." A collective sigh of relief is heard from all of us, until Ama spoke again.
"I'm afraid I cannot enter the arena. You will have to do this yourself."
"What? But you lied to him and said everything he needs is in the arena!" I rose to my feet, knocking back my chair. Hiccup gripped my hand tightly, for fear of that I might do or retribution I do not know.
Fishlegs' mouth dropped open. He was running out of time. Heather gazed at him pleadingly, begging him to find some way to do the impossible. To find some way to save her dying dragon. Hiccup watched with equal intensity. None of us knew how he could pull this off, and if he didn't... None of us would leave this arena, ever.
Suddenly he plucked an empty cup from the table and flung himself beneath Windshear's belly, scraping the cup along the underside of her barrel. She stomped in protest, flinging him across the arena with a flick of her tail, but not before he held up the cup. Slitherwing venom. It was still on her skin and hadn't fully set in yet.
"Of course, they put it under her stomach where it would be hard for him to reach, that way he couldn't see it." Hiccup exclaimed. "He's a genius!"
"Yes." Ama groaned. "It would appear so."
Fishlegs finished concocting the antidote and quickly administered it to the dragon. We all held our breaths in anticipation, when finally Windshear's eyes returned to normal, and she nuzzled lovingly against the blonde viking's side before the guards led her away again.
Two trials out of eighteen completed. Ama, I hope you're ready for the hell that you've unleashed.