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❛ ᴋʜᴀʟᴇᴇsɪ. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚ ▎❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ❜ ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴇғ ꒱
❝ KICKING BUTT & TAKING
NAMES, THAT'S WHAT! ❞
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A fierce wind whipped through Daenerys' silvery-blonde hair as she sat on Drogon's back. Her dragon's powerful wings beat the air as their sailed through the clouds, and she let out a laugh of delight at the feeling of adrenaline rushing through her. She was on one of her usual 'breaks' from her Berkian friends and rather than the weight of being alone as she'd felt when she was younger, all she felt was free. That could also be attributed to the fact that her parents flew near her, with her father on Viserion and her mother on Rhaegal.
It had been awhile since she'd flown with her parents, but they tried to fly together at least once a month. Unbeknownst to the girl— who flew ahead of her parents— her mother gave her a fond smile at the sound of her daughter's delight. She rode Rhaegal regally, just as Dany did Drogon when she was around her friends. Ingrid's posture was perfectly straight as her hands lightly clasped one of the dragon's spikes in front of her. Her own silvery-blonde hair was neatly braided close to her head to keep the strands out of her face, and looked like a natural crown.
Randolf, on the other hand, urged Viserion faster to catch up to his daughter. He leaned close to his dragon's back to increase their speed as he drew up next to Drogon. "Diving competition?" he called to the girl as he smirked at her challengingly.
Normally, Dany was perfectly game for trying to out-fly her father (much to her mother's disapproval— "you're going to get hurt one of these days!" she always scolded them), but today she had something else in mind. Since she'd practiced tricks with Hiccup, she wanted to show off her new skills to her parents. "Sure!" she called back. "But maybe not in the way you're thinking about!"
Her father's blond brows furrowed with confusion. "What other way is there?"
The younger girl grinned. Instead of answering him, she patted Drogon between the shoulder blades. "Ready, bud? Just like we practiced!"
Her dragon let out a concerned rumble, since he didn't particularly like this exercise and preferred to do it only when it was absolutely necessary. Dany ignored his worry in favor of glancing over at her father with a cheerful expression. She allowed her face to drop into one of (pretend) horror— which had her father leaning towards her in an instant— before she slid sideways off of Drogon.
Her mother's panicked cry of "Dany!" was lost to her ears as she fell through the air. The wind buffeted her from all sides, causing the material of her dress to stick close to her body— except for her skirt, which flapped from the force of the gale. She let out an ecstatic "whoo-hoo!" as she tumbled through the abyss.
In what seemed like no time at all, she'd left the chill of the fluffy, white clouds behind and the blue of the ocean appeared beneath her. Some of her loose, long hair got in her eyes, obscuring her vision, but she didn't need to see to feel. Her heart beat double-time in her chest as the sea drew nearer as there was always that what-if. Her stomach flip-flopped the whole way down, but it was the best type of feeling. The rush of blood in her ears was only second to the sound of the wind as she fell; even her own excited whoops seemed to be swallowed up by the air.
Just as the sea was getting dangerously close, there was a pinch on her ankle as Drogon clasped his claws around it. He beat his wings, puffing slightly, as he heaved them upwards again. She cheered with delight at their success. "Yes! Good boy! That's how it's done!"
Her dragon even seemed proud of his accomplishment and shot a burst of flame into the air, which he immediately careened to the side to avoid. Dany remained upside-down in her dragon's grasp as their surroundings grew colder and the clouds returned. As they drew back to her parents' height, the girl swung herself upwards to grab onto Drogon's leg. He let go of her ankle as she clung to his sturdy limb, her only support being her hands gripping his scales. Her bare feet found purchase in the grooves and she began to climb up his leg as if it were the trunk of a tree.
There were several times she had to pause as his wings beat close to her head, but she slowly began to make her way up to his side. Drogon fell into a glide, stilling his wings so that she could heave herself onto them at the joint. From there it was only a quick jump and a swing of her leg to get onto his back again. She'd been practicing this move since Hiccup had introduced it to them a few weeks ago.
Then, she hadn't been able to make it onto Drogon's back, but she'd realized that put her in a vulnerable position. After trying it several times on the ground, they'd taken the exercise to the air as a fallback plan in case Drogon couldn't drop her onto Toothless or another dragon. Since her dragon's scales were much rougher and more deeply grooved than other species', they made the perfect climbing notches.
Once she'd retaken her seat, her mother came up beside her wearing a deep frown. Dany sighed, feeling the excitement of the freefall fade as she anticipated the scolding that she was about to receive. She really should have known better than to do that in front of her mother. Ingrid drew in a deep breath to begin: "Daenerys—"
But, before she could continue, her father broke into a loud roar of laughter. "Brilliant! Absolutely amazing! Where did you learn to do that?"
The older woman's features drew into an even more severe expression. "Randolf," she added sternly. "You shouldn't condone such unsafe behavior. What if Drogon hadn't caught her in time? Honestly, Daenerys, I don't know where you get your penchant for stunts like that— although your father would be my guess." She pinned her husband with an annoyed look with her violet eyes. "Just because you're invulnerable to dragon fire doesn't mean you're indestructible. What—"
"Mom," Dany groaned. "It's fine. Drogon and I have practiced this dozens of—"
Ingrid's eyes narrowed as she repeated dangerously, "dozens?"
The girl winced, not having thought her words through. "Um. . . I meant. . . once or twice?"
Her mother wasn't fooled, and her expression tightened as her lips pressed into a thin line. "Turn around. We're going home so we can talk about this."
She wheeled Rhaegal around to make her way back to the cottage. As her father did the same, Daenerys caught his gaze as he passed her. "Dad, please. . ."
He gave her a sympathetic look as Viserion held their position for a second, before he nodded. She felt relief swamp her as she watched her parents disappear into the clouds. Her mother's anger would carry her all the way home without looking back, so she'd only notice her daughter's absence once they were miles apart. Then, Ingrid would stew in her irritation for several hours before it petered out to motherly concern. Dany just needed to buy enough time to wait for that to happen, so she decided to go visit Astrid until the evening.
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Drogon touched down in front of the Hofferson's house not long after. Their arrival caused several people to scramble out of the way and a few chickens to cluck in fright. She heard a few muttered curses of "Targaryen," but chose to ignore them. Although her family was more accepted than they had been since the Battle of the Red Death, not everyone was welcoming. Drogon trailed close behind her as his orange eyes kept a wary watch on the other villagers. If any of them got too close, all he needed to do was bare his teeth to keep them away.
Just as Dany approached her friend's door, Astrid came out with two empty water buckets in her hands. Her expression brightened at the sight of the other girl. "Dany! What are you doing here?"
The Targaryen grimaced. "I might've made my mom angry by showing her one of Hiccup's tricks. Can I hide out here for a while?"
"Sure, as long as you help me do chores." Astrid thrust one of her buckets in the teen's direction.
Dany took it from her willingly. "Deal! Anything to avoid my mom's wrath."
The blonde chuckled at her determination. As they walked towards the well to fill the buckets, she asked, "so, what kind of trick did you try?"
"Hiccup's freefall," the girl admitted. "Probably not the best move since my mom's all about traditional flying. But Drogon and I were practicing it a lot— against his will, actually— and my parents are the only ones who don't know what we get up to. Maybe it was like that for a reason— but my dad was entertained, at least."
As if he were listening in on their conversation, Drogon let out a grunt of agreement at the 'against his will' part. Dany laughed and threw an appreciative glance his way. "His response time has gotten a lot better, and now I'm not stuck in his claws anymore— I figured out a way to climb up to his back. . ."
To Astrid's credit, she listened readily to her friend's enthusiastic 'dragon-talk,' as she thought that Dany's monologue was better than the usual silence she did her chores in. When they got to the well, Fishlegs was there with his own buckets. He was humming a song— probably one that he sang to Meatlug— as he filled his containers, but stopped and jumped at the sight of the girls. His eyes flickered between them nervously as he greeted them, "h-hi Astrid, D-Daenerys."
Used to his shyness, Astrid nodded to him as she dropped her bucket in the well. Dany's brows furrowed as he stuttered over her name and not the other girl's. If anything, she'd understand why he would be afraid of Astrid, who was fierce and tended towards violence. She had no idea why she made him so uneasy, especially when there had been several hours where they'd talked about dragons nonstop. Even with this, though, he never seemed to be entirely comfortable with her.
The moment was soon forgotten about as the teens made their way back to their homes, as a much more. . . disconcerting event occurred not long after. They were stopped in their tracks as a familiar, black dragon swooped over them. However, his usual rider wasn't on his back; rather, the large figure of their chief threw them all for a loop. The Night Fury crashed into several roofs as Stoick tried to control him overhead.
"Uh. . . is that—?" Astrid began uncertainly.
"Unexpected? Disturbing?" Fishlegs finished.
Dany grimaced as her heart sank a little. She always expected Hiccup and Toothless together, so she was a bit disappointed when she saw the chief. "All of the above," she agreed to the boy's guesses.
The blonde brightened as Hiccup burst out from his home due to all of the commotion. "Dad? What are you doing?"
Stoick jumped off the Night Fury to approach his son. "Kicking butt and taking names, that's what!"
The Targaryen saw how Toothless slumped as soon as the larger man got off of him. His eyes closed with exhaustion, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the usually energetic dragon.
The boy looked between his father and his dragon with a bemused expression. "Uh. . . on Toothless?"
Stoick jabbed a thumb in the dragon's direction. "Oh, we've been all over Berk. Chiefing has never been so easy!"
"Yeah, but dad," Hiccup said with a frown, "Toothless is my dragon. . ."
He clapped a large hand on his son's shoulder. "You picked a good one! Just came in to grab my hatchet. We're helping Jorgenson break down his fence."
Hiccup stepped out of his father's way as the older man brushed passed him, still in too much shock to really do anything. He could only weakly protest: "y-yeah, that's great, but you need to understand that Toothless—"
Stoick turned around with a finger lifted in the air. "Oh, you're right! I don't need my hatchet! Toothless can just blast that fence down with a fireball!"
The Night Fury grunted in protest as the chief got back in the saddle, having been roused from his brief nap. Hiccup once again tried to stop his father, but only managed to get out, "uh. . . that's not what I—"
Toothless gave him a pleading look, and he could only reassure him, "don't worry, bud. I'll fix this."
He let out a tired rumble before he hefted himself into the air, the chief's excited laughter a stark contrast to his current mood.
Dany's gaze was drawn to the boy, who stood alone in front of his house as he watched his father take off on his dragon. Astrid caught the girl's longing look and smirked, taking the bucket from her. The blonde startled and yanked her gaze back to her friend. "W-what are you doing?"
"I think I know why you really came to Berk today," she said mischievously. "Go on, I can finish this up."
Her face flushed and she glanced over at Fishlegs, but the boy seemed to be lost in his own world as he stared at some point over her shoulder. "Astrid! That's-that's not at all the reason! It was because my mother—"
"Got angry," the other girl finished with a roll of her eyes. "But admit it, seeing Hiccup had something to do with it too, right?"
"No!" she denied quickly. At the blonde's unimpressed expression, she reluctantly admitted: "okay, maybe a little— but only a little! We're just friends, Astrid. Really. Didn't I tell you that I'd let you know if anything changed?"
Astrid had to give her that, so she dropped her teasing (for the time being, at least.) "Oh, fine. Just go!"
She put down her water buckets to give the girl a playful shove (which was hard enough to make Dany stumble down the hill a bit) in the direction of the chief's house. As she approached him, she saw that the boy's expression was slightly lost, as if he didn't quite know what to do without Toothless.
"Um, hi," she began tentatively.
He jerked out of his thoughts and his expression softened into a smile as he greeted her. "Hi, Dany. I didn't know you were in Berk today."
"Yeah." There was a brief pause of awkward silence. The girl twirled a piece of silvery-blonde hair around her finger as she tried to figure out what to say next. "Well. . . I saw your dad take off. Um, d'you want to ride Drogon with me?"
Hiccup's gaze slid past her to where Drogon was waiting some feet away, his orange eyes fixed watchfully on his mother. "Really?" he asked hopefully.
She shrugged. "Sure. You're the only other person he likes, pretty much."
So, it was decided, and they made their way over to the large dragon. As Dany climbed onto his back, Hiccup stopped in front of him to outstretch his hand, knowing that Drogon could be quite temperamental. His nostrils flared as he huffed warm breath over the boy before he lowered his head to bump his snout against the brunet's palm. Pleased with his acquiescence, Hiccup took his place behind the Targaryen as she shifted her bow and arrows to her front, as usual. She felt her face warm as the boy's arms wrapped around her waist and she distracted herself by guiding Drogon into the air.
They circled the archipelago lazily a few times, and Dany turned around to face the brunet so they could talk (mostly about dragons.) After a while, she directed her dragon towards her favorite field of wildflowers. As they dismounted, he glanced over at her curiously. "What are we doing here?"
"I wanted to make a flower crown," she explained simply. "And these are my favorite." She sent her dragon a pointed look as he turned in three circles before laying on the ground. "As long as someone doesn't crush all of them."
Hiccup chuckled at her lighthearted chiding and sat down as she walked carefully amongst the flowers to gather enough to start a circlet. He took out his journal and some charcoal to start sketching what Dany assumed was her dragon, as that was what she would do. Once she'd gotten enough flowers, she took a seat next to him and began to weave their stalks together with practiced ease.
The brunet appreciated their companionable silence as it was a nice change of pace from their other friends. While Daenerys could certainly be as talkative as some of them when she was in the mood, she was, for the most part, contentedly quiet. He much preferred this compared to the twins' antics and Snotlout's obnoxious comments, both of which were only tolerable in small doses (and sometimes, not even then.) He looked up from the pages of his notebook from time to time under the guise of watching what she was doing— which he was interested in— but also to aid in his drawing.
She caught one of his glances to meet his gaze questioningly, causing him to stumble over an excuse. "Uh. . . I was just. . . I don't know how you do that." He gestured to her half-completed crown.
"Oh," the blonde said. "It's very easy. You have to start with three flowers and braid their stems together. Once you get about halfway down, add another flower and keep going until it's long enough to fit your head. Then you just tuck the end to make a circle, and there you go."
She demonstrated it loosely, since she wasn't done adding to it yet. "My mom says that flowers have their own language," she continued. "White daisies mean purity and innocence while bluebells represent humility, constancy, gratitude and everlasting love." Dany felt her face warm at the last description and busied herself with choosing another flower. "I don't know if I really believe all that, but her side of the family is big on lore."
He remembered that she'd told him how it was her mother's side that had inherited the dragon eggs that had produced Drogon and his brothers. "You have nimble fingers," he observed, and then regretted his choice of words a second later as he blushed. "I mean, I could use your help on some of my inventions— sometimes mine can't even fit in the smaller places."
The girl gave him a shy smile. "I'd be happy to."
They went back to their respective tasks not long after. As Hiccup finished his drawing, he felt a light weight drop on his head. He went a bit cross-eyed as he tried to figure out what it was, only to resort to taking it off in order to see it properly. Dany was watching him with a slightly guarded expression as she waited to see what he would do with her present— a part of her expected him to refuse to wear it. However, she broke into a beaming grin as he placed the blue-and-white flower crown back on his head, albeit at a slightly crooked angle. Her own circlet was made out of her favorite flower, lavender.
🏹🏹🏹
The next day, the riders were called to the training academy so Stoick could assess their dragons to choose his own since Hiccup had followed Astrid's advice. Dany wasn't too keen on 'selling' Drogon to the chief, but the other riders— mostly Snotlout— were taking this as a competition to show off their dragons. Speaking of, the boy had (unfortunately) caught them returning to Berk yesterday and had seen Hiccup wearing the flower crown, which he wouldn't let them forget easily.
"Don't worry guys," he announced as he dismounted. "The best dragon has arrived— you can all go home, if you want. I'm sure Hiccup's dad— or should I say Princess Hiccup's dad— will recognize greatness when he sees it."
The brunet did his best to ignore the other teen, but Astrid wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of getting away with such a comment. "Shut up, Snotlout," she replied calmly as she ran her fingers over the hilt of her axe.
Snotlout, however, was never one to heed someone's warning as he carried on: "I would never pretend to be a woodland fairy. Are you sure you didn't pick those flowers while you were out looking for trolls?"
"Dany picked them," Hiccup said, with an unexpected amount of smugness in his tone. "She made the crown."
Snotlout's attitude did a one-eighty as he turned to the girl. "Hey, babe, you didn't make me one? I'd make a much better prince charming than the one-legged wonder."
The Targaryen was saved from coming up with what would've been an awkward reply at their chief's arrival. Hiccup hurried forward to greet his dad to keep the other teens from getting them off on the wrong foot. "The finest dragon species on the island. They're all represented right here, at this academy."
The young Vikings— with the exception of Dany, who didn't want the 'win' the unannounced competition— straightened and stood proudly next to their dragons. While the other dragons mimicked the riders (with the exception of Barf and Belch, who snapped at each other), Drogon leaned forward as if to curl around the girl protectively. His orange eyes stayed trained on the leader of Berk as he watched Stoick with something close to a mocking gaze.
Snotlout was quick to jump ahead of his friends as he stepped forward. His tone was boastful as he introduced his dragon, "but the Monstrous Nightmare is the only one with the brawn and prestige for men of our stature. Hop on board. Feel the Monstrous Nightmare difference." He led the older man over to Hookfang to show off his dragon's. . . finer qualities, but Hiccup sighed, knowing that this wouldn't go well. Unaware of the impending disaster, Stoick climbed onto the base of the Monstrous Nightmare's long neck. "Let me warm him up for you."
Hookfang shot him a displeased look as he flicked his dragon on the nose. Still, he began to glow with heat and the chief let out a contented sigh— at least until there was a burning smell, which caused him to yelp and jump off the dragon's back. The chief raced over to the nearest water trough, just like Snotlout did when he annoyed Hookfang to the point of combustion.
The boy tried to save face by beaming brightly at his leader. "Now, should I put you down for one? They come in an assortment of colors."
Stoick grunted in disgust and moved on to Stormfly. Astrid stood in front of her dragon proudly. "Just because she's beautiful, people think she's not tough. But you should never underestimate me." Her eyes widened when she realized what she'd said. "I mean her. . . um, uh. . . us."
She smiled nervously as the chief placed an appreciative hand on Stormfly's snout. "Well, she is a beauty—"
But that was all he managed to say as the Deadly Nadder roared over Astrid's warning and flicked out her tail spikes. She pinned Stoick to the wall in a perfect outline around his body. Snotlout sidled up to the older man with a smirk. "Monstrous Nightmare's looking a little better now, huh, Chief?"
Hiccup's father ignored him in favor of growling, "next!"
The twins— who were always prone to fighting at the worst times— had occupied themselves by shoving at each other. As usual, their dragon(s) copied their riders and their initial snapping at each other increased to a full-on firefight, which led them to slumping to the ground in a dazed heap. Needless to say, the chief wasn't impressed.
Fishlegs was next, and he leaned on his dragon lovingly as he began to speak: "let me tell you, what you're really looking for is loyalty. A dragon who will be there for you, no matter what. The last face you see at night, and the first face you see in the morning. Warm in your bed when it's cold outside. . ." He threw his arms around his beloved dragon as his voice caught. "A shoulder to cry on when the world has turned its back on you. How could you not love a Gronckle?"
Stoick leaned forward as he rejected this offer, but at least his tone was noticeably more apologetic than when he spoke to the other riders. "Sorry, son, but I'm looking for a dragon, not a mother."
Dany was last, and she tensed as the chief approached Drogon. There was clear admiration in his eyes as he gazed up at the large dragon. "Now this is more like it. Look at all that muscle! Saving the best for last, eh, son?" he asked Hiccup, his teasing nudge so forceful that it caused the boy to stumble a bit.
"Dad—" Hiccup began tentatively, sending the girl an apologetic look.
The blonde wasted no time in addressing the chief: "he's strong, yes, but that's about his only good quality. He's very slow for starters— you can't do tricks with him like you can with Toothless. His size also means that you can't fly him around the village easily, or land him anywhere in Berk. He eats a lot, too—"
"But he is impressive," Stoick cut her off, apparently ignoring her explanation of Drogon's setbacks (as opposed to his assets, which the other riders tried to showcase for their dragons.) "Imagine what I'd look like just flying into battle— I'd strike fear into the hearts of our enemies before even landing the first blow!"
"Well," she began, "he's not even that good in battle since he's too big for close combat, which I'm sure as a chief is something you'd chose over long distance fighting. At Alvin's last attack, I had to resort to archery to participate and honestly, I wouldn't attempt anything less—"
The leader of Berk scoffed. "There wouldn't need to be a battle if this dragon was at the head of the charge! What do you say, old boy? How'd you like to be the chief's steed?"
Daenerys didn't know if his outright ignorance was because she was a Targaryen, or if he just didn't care. Luckily, Drogon's actions spoke louder than her words as his eyes narrowed and he lunged forward, snapping his massive teeth at the chief. Stoick promptly lost his balance and fell on his butt, much to the other teens' amusement. (Although they were sure to hide their snickers behind their hands— except for the twins, of course; they laughed at him outright.)
The older man sighed as he got to his feet. "I suppose that's a no, then." He turned to his son. "Except for the lass' dragon, I haven't seen anything that can hold a candle to a Night Fury."
"I haven't either," Hiccup agreed. Toothless approached the boy and nudged his arm to ask for a pet. "But Toothless is the only Night Fury on Berk, and he's mine; and Drogon is very particular about who he lets ride him."
The sound of Gobber's heavy breathing reached their ears as he hustled into the arena. He raised his malleted hand to get their attention as he called: "Stoick! Another boat is being attacked! It's the rogue dragon again."
🏹🏹🏹
Dany was filled with relief when Stoick decided against any of their dragons; his interest in hers had begun to worry her, but he was more intent on winning over the Thunderdrum that had been the one to upset the fish catches. She had very little experience with the species overall, except for the one that her mother had helped heal when she was younger. Ingrid had accidentally applied the poultice with too much pressure, which set the dragon off and his consequential roar had left her father deaf for almost a year. After that, she made a mental note to only approach the species from behind.
Unfortunately for them, Stoick's newest interest affected the riders as well, since his rough treatment had sent the Thunderdrum flying for the hills. Now they were responsible for helping their chief locate his missing dragon, which led them to flying around Berk at night. That concept alone didn't bother Dany; she just wasn't fond of helping the same chief who'd made outcasts of her parents— she told herself that she was only there for Hiccup's sake.
The Targaryen made a face at the sight of the chief sitting in the driver's position on Toothless' back. She missed Hiccup leading them all at the front, and she wasn't shy in admitting that that was the situation she preferred. She suspected that the boy would have agreed with her if the obvious misery on his face was anything to go by— it was so clear that even she could tell how unhappy he was.
"Alright!" Stoick called to them. "We have to fan out and cover every part of the island."
Used to taking the reigns of leadership, Hiccup followed up with: "Ruffnut, Tuffnut, you take—"
But his father talked over him before he could finish. Pointing to the twins, he ordered: "you! Take the west side."
For once, they didn't argue with their assignment as they agreed in unison, "yes, chief!"
As they departed, Hiccup muttered, "can anyone even see me back here?"
Dany gave him a sympathetic smile, but since she was flying behind him, he didn't see it. Stoick continued: "Fishlegs and the Targaryen, east side!"
The boy's eyes went wide as he glanced nervously back at the large dragon. The fastest protest he could come up with was, "but-but it's allergy season."
"Fishlegs. . ."
"Not me. It's her." He gestured down to Meatlug.
Despite his misgivings, they redirected their dragons to the indicated area. The only sound that broke the silence were the vibrations of the Gronckle's buzzing wings and her great sneezes that made Fishlegs cling on tightly every time her body shuddered with them. Eventually he cleared his throat. "S-so, uh, it's a nice. . . night, right?"
The girl frowned at the return of his stutter. "Fishlegs," she began slowly, "you. . . you know that you don't have to be afraid of me, right?"
"It's not you I'm afraid of," he was quick to reassure her. His eyes darted nervously to her dragon.
"Oh," she said as understanding dawned on her. "You don't have to be afraid of him either, really."
He eyed Drogon's deadly mouth worriedly. "It's just. . . his teeth. . ."
Of all things, the blonde laughed— but not in a mean way, mostly with the knowledge that this was something that could be easily remedied. "Fishlegs, it's okay. Drogon's never hurt me, and he's had plenty of opportunities where he could have. He would only hurt someone else if I was— or one of you guys were—in danger. I promise."
"He's so big," the boy commented. "I think he could eat Meatlug if he really wanted to. . ."
"But he won't," she reassured him fiercely. "If anything, I think he'd go after Hookfang first— either him or the twins' dragon; they annoy him the most. You've seen how he is around Toothless and Stormfly! He's like an older brother to them. I'm sure he'd be the same with Meatlug."
Fishlegs allowed a faint smile to appear at the thought of Drogon taking down the most argumentative dragons in the academy. He questioned her tentatively, "you really think Drogon would protect us like that? I mean, he's so huge and powerful."
"Of course!" she agreed firmly. "Drogon may look scary, but really just a big softy under all these scales. He has a strong bond with me, and I think that he sees all of you guys— except maybe Snotlout and the chief— as his extended family. He would never harm anyone unless it was a matter of protecting us from a real threat."
The boy's smile grew a little more at the thought of what had happened earlier that day. "It was a bit funny when he made the chief fall over. And he doesn't mind flying as slowly as Meatlug does," he added, which was something he'd noticed during their search.
"See? They have something in common," Dany pointed out encouragingly. "He's got a lot of patience since he's built for endurance rather than speed. Unless you try to force yourself on him— like Stoick did earlier— he won't snap at you. In fact, he's a lot less temperamental than Hookfang as long as you respect him."
"I do," he replied. "I think I'll still avoid his teeth, though."
She grinned at him brightly. "So do I!"
Eventually the Thunderdrum was found in one o the rocky caves that lined the cliffs. It turned out that he was stealing the fish in order to feed his injured friend, whom Dany lead to her mother; Randolf was very careful to avoid stepping in the way of the dragon's mouth this time. Stoick had his own dragon at last, and Hiccup was back in his rightful position as (one of) the head of the academy.
Fishlegs was still wary of Drogon, but the next day, he found the Meatlug had curled up against the spiked dragon's side, and he had allowed her to use his wing as a blanket. The sight had warmed him to Daenerys' dragon and he'd smiled happily as he met the girl's 'I-told-you-so' look.