A/N: OMG Y'ALL, THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING. AN UPDATE. AM I DREAMING? Seriously, though. Sooooooo sorry about this long wait you've had to endure. I'm a horrible person, I know. TO BE FAIR, real life has been a raging pain in my ass this winter season. I literally started writing at the first reprieve, which was a few hours ago. So here y'all go - Ch 33. WHOOP WHOOP!
malachib871 - I think you jinxed me with your comment, but I do appreciate the support ;))
Silverleone - Gobber is the friend we all need. Thanks for reading!
GOBBER'S POV
While Stoick was distracted going over the ship's inventory with Sigurd, I kept a close eye on Hiccup and the Night Fury. Technically, I couldn't actually see the boy, since his dragon had hidden him away in its embrace, but I knew he was there.
My mind could hardly keep up with all the surprises that had been thrown my way in the past twenty four hours. Finding a strange boy in the middle of the ocean was weird enough without adding a legendary Night Fury into the mix. And based on how they were both acting, they shared some sort of bond, which was completely unheard of. Stoick's theory about the kid being a hunter made sense to me at first, but the dragon wouldn't be so protective of him if that were the case. So...what? Was he able to control the beast somehow? Dragons didn't have emotions, so why else would this one be so defensive of its human counterpart unless it had been coerced in some way?
I wrestled with ideas as I observed the Night Fury. It was utterly calm now that it had Hiccup within reach. It was practically ignoring its surroundings. I'd never seen a dragon behave in such a docile manner, especially one in chains. Then again, everything about this species was unknown. Perhaps they acted differently toward humans than other dragons...
Looking back on the vicious glare it had directed at Stoick earlier, I quickly negated the thought. If anything, this dragon was even more hostile than the usual species we battled with on Berk. Hiccup was the only one who was able to keep it at bay. As I suspected, it clearly would be in our best interest to get the boy on our side.
"Gobber!" Stoick called as he stomped over to where I was standing. I grunted in acknowledgement. "Five minutes are up," he stated. "I don't want to give the boy a chance to free the dragon."
A slight chuckle escaped past my lips. "You wanna be the one to try and separate them, be my guest. I'll wait right here," I told him, completely serious despite my carefree attitude.
Stoick's jaw clenched in annoyance; he withdrew the axe from his belt and stepped forward. I grimaced as the Night Fury lifted its head to stare down the chief, wondering if I should be preparing to provide backup. The dragon was chained, though... What's the worst that could happen?
"Um, Stoick..." I began, trailing off when I noticed the dragon's claws digging into the wood.
The stubborn man refused to take heed, instead pointing his weapon toward the beast's face. "Hand him over, or you'll be wishing you did," he threatened. That tone of voice usually sent our enemies running for the hills, but the Night Fury didn't move a muscle—except for his claws, which still scratched at the deck.
"Stoick," I tried again, this time much more adamant. I had a bad feeling, and my gut rarely led me astray. "Please, just...let it go for now. Neither of them are going anywhere," I said, grabbing his arm. He frowned at being restrained, but thankfully took my advice and backed up a few paces. I followed after him, glancing at the dragon over my shoulder. It was already settling back down as if nothing had occurred, but its gaze remained on the two of us.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were afraid, Gobber," Stoick muttered, tucking his axe away.
"Maybe I am," I replied honestly. "Maybe you should be. We don't even know what we're dealing with yet," I pointed out. At Stoick's raised eyebrow, I continued, "We don't know anything about this boy—who's wearing dragon scales, I might remind you—nor do we know anything about Night Furies. We need answers. You're not going to kill them, so you need to be smart about this. Losing your temper doesn't help matters."
"You really think that boy will cooperate," he replied after a moment of consideration, doubt heavy in his expression.
"If you give him a bit of space for a while, aye. He seemed to want to help us when I spoke with him before," I explained. Of course, Hiccup's version of helping was withholding information about the nest, but Stoick didn't need to know that. One step at a time.
"Why in Thor's name would he want to help us? We're complete strangers," Stoick argued, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. "Gods, when did I start relying on children for anything?" He muttered, then lifted his head and threw his arm out toward the dragon. "I mean, look at—" His words cut off abruptly, and my eyebrows drew together in concern as I followed his shocked gaze.
"What?" I questioned, expecting to see a threat. Well...another threat.
Stoick dropped his hand, squinting in disbelief at the Night Fury. "Is...Is that a saddle?" He breathed, not even blinking.
It took me a second to process what he'd said, then my eyes caught on the small piece of leather attached to the dragon's back, almost hidden by its wings. I hadn't even noticed it before with all of the commotion, but now it seemed to stand out starkly against the midnight black scales. It really was a saddle...on a dragon.
"I...think so, Chief..." I responded at last, unsure what else to say.
Stoick's gaze darkened, and he glanced toward the sky thoughtfully. "I'm starting to think we've got an even bigger problem on our hands than the nest," he said with a frown.
"That would explain how he made it to the middle of the ocean without freezing to death first," I murmured, mostly to myself. "He flew out there. A boy on the back of a Night Fury...I don't believe it." I was still wrapping my mind around the fact that Night Furies were even real. This was too much information to handle all at once. People didn't ride dragons. It was impossible. Hell, you couldn't even get close to one without risking your life.
"Still think he's on our side?" Stoick questioned roughly.
"I don't know what to think," I admitted. "I could use a mugful of mead, though," I added.
Stoick snorted at my attempt to lighten the situation. "Plenty of time for that once we get back to Berk." He turned away, heading back toward the captain's quarters. "Right now, we need to brainstorm what to do with our guests," he called over his shoulder. "The village will want answers, and at the moment we have none."
I sighed, sensing a bit of trouble in the near future. This was supposed to be a scouting mission. That's why we only brought the one ship. The villagers would be quite surprised when we returned with a Night Fury and a strange boy wearing dragon-scale armor. Stoick was right. They would all have questions.
"We need to start storing barrels of mead below deck for these trips," I grumbled under my breath, following after the chief.
HICCUP'S POV
When my eyes fluttered open, darkness greeted me. I took a moment to focus on my other senses since my vision had no information to offer me. It smelled like saltwater—we were still on the ship, then—and I could hear the murmur of calm waves. My fingertips glided over smooth scales, and I smiled at the reminder that I had Toothless by my side once again.
*Stay there.* His soft command filtered into my thoughts. Of course he knew I was awake.
*Is the Alpha still out there?* I wondered, unable to keep the nervous edge out of my voice. Gobber seemed alright, as far as vikings went, but Stoick set off all my alarms in terms of how much danger he posed to both of us.
*Did he hurt you?* Toothless returned sharply, his chest vibrating with a rising hiss.
I placed my palm against his wing reassuringly. *No. I-I mean, not really. My leg...that happened in the sky.* I explained, remembering the loud snap that had pierced the air when the dragon rammed into me.
Toothless winced, a guilty whine escaping him. *I'm sorry, Hiccup. I should've—*
*Don't you dare apologize.* I cut him off, baring my teeth even though he couldn't see me. *What's done is done. We need to focus on our current situation.* I advised, turning over so I was back on my hands and feet. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't remain hidden. It was up to me to solve the problem.
*Hiccup...* Toothless warned, sensing my intentions.
I leaned against him, rubbing my head against his shoulder comfortingly. *You've gotta let me out, bud. I have to deal with this.* I insisted.
*No. I can't keep you safe out there.* He argued, fear seeping into his tone.
*They won't hurt me.* I promised. The truth was I had no idea what their plans were, but I couldn't just sit by while they held our lives in their hands.
*They're vikings.* He reminded me, as though I could ever forget that fact.
*Just...trust me on this?* I pleaded. *This is the mission, right? Let me do my part.*
Toothless' resolve wavered as his respect for me warred with his desire to protect me. I waited in silence, letting him make a decision without any further influence. I wanted him to back me up on this because he decided to, not because I forced him into anything. We'd always gotten through tough situations together.
I let out a relieved breath when his wings slowly drew back toward his body, exposing me to the sunlight. Even as I heard a few shouts of warning from the vikings that noticed my appearance, I ignored them as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Toothless didn't let me go completely. He kept his tail wrapped loosely around my legs as I stood up and leaned against him for support. I was more than content to stay by his side, especially with all the gawking stares we were receiving.
No one approached us, and I had an itching suspicion they'd been told to keep their distance. Probably for their own safety, if I had to guess, but it also served to put me a little more at ease. The farther they were from Toothless the better. Stoick's threats toward my dragon had me on edge, just waiting for an attack from any viking in close range. But if they'd been ordered to leave us alone, perhaps the human Alpha didn't intend us harm...for now, anyway.
Toothless didn't yet know it was my father that kept us captive. Even if I told him, it most likely wouldn't make much of a difference in his mind. Familial ties would mean little to him if he thought I was in danger. Besides, now wasn't exactly a great time to bring it up.
I perked up with interest when I noticed a group of men on the far side of the ship heaving a large net full of fish out of the ocean and onto the deck. They were some of the few vikings not paying any attention to me or Toothless, since they were too busy with their task.
My stomach rumbled its displeasure at that very moment, reminding me how long it had been since I'd eaten. I tapped my fingers against my thigh, eyeing the food hungrily. Would they even bother to feed us, their prisoners? Or would they be content to let us starve? Or maybe they'd give us just enough sustenance to survive, but not enough to energize. After all, exhaustion lended to complacency in most cases.
Regardless of their plans, if there was one thing I'd learned from being raised with dragons, it was that you eat when you're hungry. Alpha fed all of us properly, but there were still plenty of squabbles over fish in the nest. That was simply the nature of dragons.
And now, seeing the heaping pile of fresh fish on the deck, I had no intention of passing up the opportunity for a meal. Not without a fight.
The moment I leaned forward with the purpose of crossing to the other side of the ship, Gobber appeared in my line of vision, a comically enthusiastic grin plastered across his face. I recoiled at his sudden proximity, slamming back against Toothless, who didn't move an inch.
"Hiccup! Glad to see you're finally awake!" He greeted loudly, seemingly oblivious to the tension of his fellow vikings, as well as the glare my dragon was directing at him.
It took my brain an awkward moment to catch up, puzzled at the man's behavior. His first inclination seemed to be toward utter friendliness, which wasn't an attitude I'd ever associated with vikings. Even Camicazi had a bit of an edge to her chipper personality that this overgrown male appeared to lack. Part of me—a very large part—suspected it was all a facade meant to lower my defenses, but then I remembered my mother's kind words as she reflected on her past, Gobber specifically. They were all positive. In fact, it was rare that she ever spoke against any of the Berkians, save for their views on dragons.
They just need the right person to show them, my mother's insistent voice echoed, repeating the same thing she'd told me all those years ago. I hadn't come south to win over the humans and get them to see the error of their ways, but perhaps I should rethink my goals while I'm here. Stopping the raids was still my priority (How in the hell am I gonna do that, anyway?) but I couldn't deny the opportunity that had presented itself. Here I was, heading into the heart of what I'd once—and maybe still—considered enemy territory, yet I was alive. And Toothless was alive. And there was a giant, intimidating viking smiling cheerfully at me with no weapon in sight. That had to count for something, right?
Eventually, Gobber realized I wasn't going to answer, but he simply shrugged and continued, "I would've woken you for breakfast, but...well, you know." He cast a not-so-subtle glance toward Toothless, and I had to suppress an eye roll at the satisfaction that exuded from my dragon. He was always proud to strike fear into any human we came across. Maybe that's why he had been so irritable around Heather. She had treated him more like a cute puppy than a threat.
"But," Gobber said after shifting his attention back to me, "You woke up in time for lunch, so no harm done! I trust you're hungry?" He checked, raising an eyebrow. "You're quite skinny. Do your people feed you where you're from?" He joked, though there was a hint of real concern in his tone.
I didn't rise to the bait. "I was just about to help myself to some of those fish, actually," I announced, challenging him to protest with a glare.
Gobber's gaze followed to where I'd gestured, and he scratched his beard—something he seemed to do quite often. Nervous habit, perhaps?
"Oh, that? We were gonna take all that back home with us. I'm sure the village could do with a little feeding by the time we return. We have other pre-prepared foods stocked below deck that I can fetch for you, though," he offered.
I frowned. "Toothless only eats fish," I told him pointedly.
Gobber looked more and more uncomfortable by the second. "Uh...right, about that...you see...well..." He struggled for words, and I had the sudden urge to shake him by the shoulders and shout, "Spit it out, man!"
I managed to refrain from that tactic, choosing instead to stare at him impatiently.
"We can't feed the dragon," Gobber blurted at last, his words almost blurring together due to the speed he'd expelled them from his mouth.
I swallowed heavily, biting back the rage and incredulity that rose within like a great, hissing snake. "What?" I gritted out icily.
Gobber huffed, rubbing the back of his neck as he raised his other hand in a defensive gesture. "Chief's orders. Can't have that muzzle off him, you know?" His eyes constantly flickered between my face and the deck.
"He's not going to hurt anyone!" I burst out, nearly stomping my foot petulantly at their audacity to withhold food from Toothless. I was thirteen, though; far too old for such a childish reaction.
Some of the men around us scowled upon hearing my shout, and I instinctively shrank back. Toothless' solid presence at my back encouraged me to press on, although he made no verbal complaints to the news that he was to receive no food until further notice. I suddenly wondered if he was even listening to the argument. His mindset might be completely focused toward protecting me right now, rather than trying to decipher the complexities of human conversation. Sometimes they escaped him, as they did with all dragons.
"You seem pretty sure about that," Gobber noted, thoughtful now instead of mildly guilty.
"I am sure," I retorted sharply. "You don't harm him, he doesn't harm you. That's generally how things work, right?" I quipped in annoyance.
"He sure seemed intent on harm yesterday," Gobber countered with a snort.
My jaw worked. "You kidnapped me! He was just trying to save me from you!" I argued, still miffed about being locked up.
"He's a dragon. They only care about food. And territory. And making our lives bloody miserable," Gobber replied, muttering the last part with barely hidden disdain.
"Unbelievable," I spat under my breath, shaking my head. "She was right about the stubbornness."
"What?" Gobber inclined his head in confusion, not able to hear my mumblings.
I waved off the question, not willing to repeat myself. It was a slip of the tongue; I needed to be more careful about that. "So what's the plan, huh?" I asked aloud. "You take us back to Berk, interrogate me, starve my dragon? Is that it? We're your prisoners just because we know where some stupid dragon nest is?" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. Toothless crooned deeply behind me, sensing my distress and trying to be supportive even if he didn't fully understand the situation. He nudged my side, and I absently rested my arm over his head, scratching between his eyes.
Gobber frowned. "Finding that nest means ending the war. Hardly anything stupid about that," he objected, quiet and serious.
Any protestations I might've had died on my lips. "What are you talking about?" I questioned, feeling like a naive child and hating it with every fiber of my being. There was something I was missing here.
"We've been tracking the dragons that have been attacking all the villages," Gobber explained, sounding a bit weary. "It's no easy feat, and we only manage to get so far before a flock of them appears out of nowhere to keep us at a distance, but we know there's a nest somewhere. The nest you apparently found. If we can eliminate that nest, we can finally live in a time of peace. Something that hasn't been seen for hundreds of years. So aye, we're gonna take you back to Berk, and we're gonna ask you and keep asking you about the location of the nest because frankly, Hiccup, you're our only hope," Gobber finished, his posture resigned but his expression achingly hopeful.
At some point during his speech, my mouth had fallen open, and I snapped it shut as I let his words sink in fully. Everything was finally falling into place, and I couldn't believe my complete obliviousness up until this point.
The dragons don't just attack Berk anymore. They're everywhere. And they don't just steal some food. There are always casualties!
The only thing you will find down there is violence and death.
Biting, slashing, blood flowing into the dirt.
Big humans charging forward with ferocious screams.
Three eyes full of hunger.
My breath stuttered, and I saw nothing but the images that had been forced into my mind the previous day. The pain had distracted me for the most part at the time, but now reality reared its ugly head.
"It's the Alpha," I whispered like a declaration, a terrible discovery, not caring whatsoever if Gobber could hear me or not. "Of course it's the Alpha. It's controlling them. M-Making them...attack. It's not their fault. It's never been their fault." My tone was strangely monotonous, unemotional despite the range of feelings I was currently experiencing. Horror, rage, fear, despair, shock—suffice it to say, I was upset.
All these years of pain, of hatred, of death, because of one monster. The dragons weren't at fault, but neither were the vikings. Everyone was a victim. The malevolent Alpha had elected to wage war, all for the purpose of keeping itself fed.
All of it...for nothing.
I was gasping now, flooded with too many thoughts and too many emotions to keep track of, and I vaguely recognized that Toothless was the only thing keeping me upright. Gobber was nearby, raising a hand as if to assist or comfort, but Toothless' growls of warning kept him from approaching, and I was too busy panicking to care about any of it.
Thousands, dead. Hatred, multiplied and left to fester upon each new generation. Fear, of dragons, of vikings. My mom, willfully exiled but heartbroken at the loss of her love. Stoick, bitter and vengeful at Fate's cruel hand.
And myself, growing up with a searing contempt for those I might've considered my family in another life. I couldn't regret it. I couldn't ever regret having the chance to meet my other half, but I would always be left wondering about what could've been. Instead, here I was, standing on the ship of my enemy father, a mere stranger, except we weren't really enemies, but neither were we friends.
All because of that one...infernal creature.
Through the bog of wandering thoughts, one managed to shove itself far above the others, pulsing with a fury I didn't know I possessed.
I'm going to kill that monster if it's the last thing I do.