How to Escape a Dragon's Fate

by SwiftlyTiltingPlanet

Summary:

Something has gone dreadfully wrong. The story fate was weaving has gone askew, as if some malevolent force has loosened one thread and now the whole tapestry is unraveling. How could something like this happen? How can there be two Hiccups? Last I checked, one scrawny know-it-all was enough....

Two heroes, two destinies, one story.

This is not good.

Notes:

Just some context before we get started.

This takes place after the 11th Book, but before the 12th- how this makes any sense, just wait and see.

In the Movie verse this takes place during RTTE before the end of season 3

You do not have to have any knowledge of the books to read this fic, though having done so will be helpful.

Without any further ado, please enjoy and let me know what you think down below.

Chapter 1: How to Train Your Dragon?

Once there were dragons…

 

Dragons that hunted and fought for their human masters, dragons that carried Warriors into battle against the worst of odds, dragons that lived in chains and silently cursed the men who kept them tethered to their side. It was only a matter of time before these dragons grew tired of their years of captivity. Under the leadership of the great dragon Furious, they rose up against their masters and vowed to eradicate every last human from the face of the earth.

 

In response to the threat, the terrified and vengeful humans turned to a vile man known as Alvin the Treacherous. Despite his reputation as wicked man they followed him, for he promised to lead them to a new world that was safe from the dragon’s threat, to eliminate them so that mankind could live on. So long as it was he who was crowned King of the Wilderwest, he would return them to their barbaric past where they ruled the archipelago with cruelty and violence.

 

Then there were those among both men and dragons who saw a world where both species could coexist as equals, a better world free from slavery and inequality. Led by the great hero, Valhallarama, those amongst the humans took the sacred Dragonmark, the permanent mark which signified the bond between man and dragon. 

 

And so it was that a great three way war began between man, dragon and those who spoke for both. All in search of the Dragon Jewel, which was said to hold the power to wipe all dragons from the face of the earth. To protect their very existence, to exterminate their enemies, to be crowned King of the Wilderwest, the jewel promised much to each faction who hoped to use it to their own ends.

 

And in the center of it all was a young boy. He was small and rather ordinary, the sort of individual who would easily fade into the crowd. No one would have guessed that this boy was the most wanted being in the entirety of the archipelago, that he would be hunted with such ferocity by both man and dragon alike, that it would be him who would decide the fate of both races. 

 

That it would be this boy who would-

 

Wait no…

 

That's not correct…

 

 

 

Once there were dragons…

 

Great beasts who fought with men in a battle so old that neither could remember how it had begun. Wild serpents who were feared and despised across the archipelago and whom no one man could dream of living alongside. Creatures for whom each human child was raised to kill.

 

However there was one young boy who couldn't bring himself to do it. He saw in the creatures a gentleness he never could have imagined. All it took was one small moment of hesitation, one moment of empathy and the fate of the world was changed forever.

 

The boy spread the word of what he had seen, what he had learned, and while it took a great deal of effort and sacrifice, he was able to convince his people that the war was no longer necessary. A new Era of peace was brought to both man and dragon.

 

However not every man was so easily convinced. Still there were some who hunted and fought the dragons in hopes of making fortunes on black markets. The boy knew he could not let this continue he knew that he-

 

No.

 

Wait.

 

Something is wrong here.

 

This story… it's not going the way it is supposed to.

 

Fate has been disrupted, the threads woven by destiny are unraveling, tangling themselves into knots…

 

It's almost as though there has been some sort of accident…

 

Some sort of… Hiccup.

 

Oh dear. This is not good…

 

Notes:

Alright, so it begins.

I've been a huge fan of the HTTYD universe since I was ten years old and grew up both reading the books and watching the TV shows. I used to firmly headcannon that Movie!Hiccup was Hiccup Horrendous Haddock I from the books until the Hidden World squashed all my dreams lol.

I really hope I'm able to capture the essence of both stories and what makes them wonderful in this fic, and have a fun time while I'm at it.

I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think down below, feel free to let me know if anyone seems ooc or anything and I will do my best to fix that.

Chapter 2: The Storm

Summary:

A dark storm looms on the horizon and threatens more than anyone could have guessed.

Notes:

I figured I'd go ahead and upload the next chapter as the first one is more of a prologue than anything really. The plot actually starts here.

Things had been hectic to say the least. It seemed to be one thing after the other, just when they thought the last threat had been dealt with another seemed to crop up in its place like a weed. And as stressed about the situation as Hiccup would like to claim he was, he had to admit there was a part of him that was living for it. Well it was a bit more than living, you could say he was thriving, completely in his element. 

 

No it wasn’t the thrill of battle that excited him, it was the chance to test his wits and his knowledge of the world, and most importantly it led him to learn greater knowledge, to see horizons that previously he might not have dreamed. It was all thanks to the strange device Hiccup had adequately named the ‘dragoneye’. To be honest the young man hardly understood how the device worked, he was still figuring that part out, but what he did know for certain was that he could not let it fall into the wrong hands. 

 

That’s what he was tinkering with at his workbench that morning. It was a new contraption he was designing that he hoped might work as a more secure means of guarding the dragoneye. So far the invention was proving to be less than successful in its endeavor. Each time he thought he had the design just right, he would offer it up to the twins as a test of its capabilities. The box had to be strong enough to resist their destruction and secure enough to resist their curious little fingers as they picked at the locks and gears. 

 

Each time they had returned triumphant, seeing the ‘Hiccup Box’ as a challenge to complete every time they got their hands on it. Hiccup was giving up hope on the matter, thinking that perhaps he should move on to other ideas that would prove more fruitful when his work was interrupted by a loud shout from outside.

 

Now this wasn’t unusual, Hiccup was used to being disturbed when he worked, in fact at this point he found it a bit unnerving when it was quiet for too long, but something about the frantic anxiety in the voice caught his attention. He lowered the tools in his hands and glanced up, his brow creasing ever so slightly as slowly more shouts joined in leading to a cacophony of sound just outside the workshop. He looked over to Toothless who had been curled up on the floor just several feet away, fast asleep only to be groggily awoken by the commotion outside.

 

“C’mon bud,” Hiccup said, “Let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”

 

Toothless didn’t hesitate, he got to his feet and followed his rider outside, ears up and alert, sensing for danger nearby.

 

“What is it, what’s going on? Is it Viggo’s men?” he asked as he flung the door open, stepping outside into the surprisingly dark outdoors.

 

“Worse,” Astrid replied grimly, she had been rushing past but stopped to answer the question, she turned and pointed out toward the Western horizon where a great darkness settled in the distance. The sight of it alone put a pit of anxiety deep in Hiccup’s stomach. 

 

“There’s a massive storm on the way, looks like it's going to be a nasty one, just rose up out of nowhere,” she paused, “Everyone is here and accounted for, all that’s left is to prepare and hope for the best.”

 

Describing it simply as a ‘massive storm’ seemed to be an understatement. It was still quite a distance away, but with how the dark clouds filled the morning sky like ink blooming in water, strangling out the light and leaving the horizon dead in its wake, it was likely to say it was the most massive storm that Hiccup had ever seen. This was more than just a squall, this was a hurricane, and it had crept up on them from the furthest reaches of the ocean and was ready to drown the land they stood on.

 

Hiccup had the sudden fear that perhaps there was nothing they could do to prepare for such a storm. Surely a monster such as that would stir up waves so large they would simply wash them all away and thus would they be erased from the earth as though they had never been. 

 

“Alright,” Hiccup nodded, swallowing thickly, “Do another head count, both human and dragon just to be sure, we can’t risk someone getting lost in that maelstrom.”

 

“Right.” Astrid responded and rushed off down the hill to comply with Hiccup’s orders. 

 

Absent-mindedly Hiccup reached over and scratched Toothless behind the ear, more to soothe himself than the dragon who seemed oddly unconcerned about the whole affair. The sleek black dragon seemed to notice Hiccup’s anxiety on the other hand and gently nudged him in an attempt to offer comfort in some small way. Though it wasn’t much, Hiccup had to admit, it did a lot to ease his nerves.

 

“We’ll be okay, won’t we bud?” he muttered, “It’s just a storm, we can handle that, can’t we?” He hoped to come across as confident, but unfortunately there was a slight quavering to his voice that betrayed his true feelings. 

 

“Let’s go help the others, make sure the food is secure and get all the dragons to their pens. Last thing we need is for them to panic and scatter.”

 

Toothless made a little grumble of agreement and followed after the rider and down to the where the others were scrambling to prepare, sealing the huts and securing their supplies in secure areas they hoped would manage to stay dry. 

 

It was a lot of work for such a small handful of people, especially when a good third of the people there comprised of two verifiably insane Loki worshippers who were better at causing mayhem than in helping to stop it. Despite this, they had developed a rhythm in their years working and training alongside one another, so despite the odds it seemed they managed to get everything stored away safely and tied down before the dark clouds loomed their way.

 

The wind was beginning to pick up now. It was an icy cold wind that smelled of winter and death and the light rain that began to fall down upon them was so cold that it seemed to freeze on impact. 

 

“Alright,” Snotlout announced as a loud clap of thunder shook the earth, “Which one of you angered Thor and on a scale of one to ten how worried should we be?”

 

“I think it was Fishlegs, he’s always had a shifty look to him,” Tuffnut said, narrowing his eyes and turning to glare at the larger boy.

 

“What!?” Fishlegs jumped in surprise, “No I-”

 

“Guys, we don’t have time for this, we have to get to shelter! C’mon!” Hiccup announced turning to run to the large hut at the center of the edge.

 

“Wait!” Tuffnut suddenly shouted, whipping his head from left to right, “Where’s Chicken!?”

 

“Oh you gotta be kidding me!” Snotlout shouted, “You didn’t think to look for the stupid bird before the storm was right on top of us!”

 

“We gotta find her!” Tuffnut shouted, “I’m not heading in until I do!”

 

“She’s right there!” Astrid yelled over the wind, pointing to a window of a building to their left where the bird’s small head was looking out at them.

 

“Oh thank Thor! Chicken!” Tuffnut yelled, running to the shelter of the building, Ruffnut following close after him. The others just looked at one another before following after, quickly taking cover before the worst of the storm hit them.

 

It was lucky that they did. It was one of the fiercest storms any of them had ever heard. The wind was roaring so loudly that it threatened to deafen them and they had to fight to keep the windows shut. Several times the door was blown open and it took all their strength to seal it again, and it was a genuine fear of theirs that the next time it might go flying off its hinges entirely. The few times they were able to glance out into the hurricane, they couldn’t see more than several feet but occasionally they did see the silhouette of something go flying past, though it was moving so fast that they could not make heads or tails of what it had been.

 

They shivered by the warmth of the fire pit all night long, unable to sleep as the thunder crashed and the sea beat at the walls of the cliffs. If they were fanciful people, they may have been inclined to believe that this was the presence of the thunder god himself, his godly essence so strong that it threatened to wipe the entire island off the map. But they were not fanciful people, and that would be ridiculous. Well, Ruffnut and Tuffnut were almost convinced but the rest of them were fairly certain that this was not the case.

 

All they could do now was pray. Pray that the small creations of mankind were resistant to the very wrath of Thor himself as his rage ripped apart the sea around them. It was a long and terrifying night.

 

Meanwhile….

 

Meanwhile, very very far away, a young boy was half conscious, clinging desperately to a piece of driftwood as the sea foamed and frothed around him. He was shivering and delirious, unaware of his surroundings as he was tossed about like the ocean’s plaything. If the wind would die down for just a moment and the sea calmed, you would hear him faintly whispering to himself, “Into the wind, into the wind, we have to go into the wind. Everything is fine Toothless, we’ll be safe, we just need to sail into the wind…”

 

It was truly a kindness of fate that the boy was unaware of where he was or what had just happened to him. He was unaware of what he had just lost, of all the pain that he was in, and worst of all, he was unaware that the little dragon Toothless he was calling to had sunk to the bottom of the sea and could not hear his reassurances. If he had known these things, then there was the chance he might have let go of the little piece of driftwood and let his body be consumed by the ocean, just as his cousin’s had been mere moments before. But as it was, he held on tightly, blind determination and sheer terror keeping his half dead body from submerging completely. 

 

The boy was not entirely alone. Clinging desperately for dear life, tucked away in the boy’s waistcoat was a small, ancient dragon. He was far too old to be tossed this way and that by the ocean around him, and if he hadn’t had a small set of gills as all dragons did, then he might have drowned some time ago. As it was, he was willing the boy to keep fighting, to keep living. 

 

‘Oh Hiccup,’ he thought to himself frantically, ‘You mustn’t die, you mustn’t! The fate of both dragons and humans rests on your shoulders, you must make it to Tomorrow!’

 

It didn’t matter what The Wodensfang wanted, destiny it seemed wanted this boy dead. Something caught on his ankle, pulling him down, down into the briney deep. The Wodensfang shrieked in alarm, climbing down Hiccup’s waist to see what on earth it was. It was an old dragon net, drifting in the water it had wrapped itself around Hiccup’s legs and then had caught onto a small reef just below the surface. The sudden jerk of it getting caught on the rocks was what had ripped the boy free from his driftwood, and now exhausted and weak he had nothing to keep himself up and he was sinking rapidly to the ocean depths. 

 

“No! No!” The Wodensfang exclaimed in alarm, “Wake up Hiccup! You must wake up!” but it was no use. The boy had no fight left in him. He was broken, both physically and emotionally and there was nothing he could do to fight his inevitable death. 

 

He climbed up the boy’s chest and began blowing air into his nose and down into his lungs, doing his best to keep the boy alive as long as possible. But he was just one small, tired old dragon. He was not as big or strong as the Windwalker and he did not have the energy of young Toothless. He felt his grip slipping. He climbed back down the boy’s body, he had to cut him free. He had no chance at all weighed down by the nets. He began gnawing on the ropes, painfully aware that he only had a short time before Hiccup needed air. 

 

Back and forth he ran up and down the boy’s body trying to keep him supplied with oxygen and doing his best to chew through the ropes. With each small snap of the tethered ropes he felt a surge of hope and relief, perhaps he could save the young Hiccup after all. Perhaps the hopes of Hiccup the First didn’t have to die here. He thought desperately back nearly one thousand years ago to the young boy who had first shown him the potential of mankind. He thought he had lost that hope over the centuries, but here in the tiny broken form of Hiccup the Third he had found it again. He couldn’t afford to lose it now.

 

“Come on,” he hissed as he bit through the last ropes, “Come on!” With a snap Hiccup was free.

 

The Wodensfang cried out with joy. Then he cried out in fear and alarm. Just as he finally released Hiccup from the nets, the boy's body drifted into another powerful current and the Wodensfang hadn’t had time to readjust his grip. He screamed as Hiccup was ripped away from him and he was sent spiraling out into the open ocean, just another plaything of the gods. 

 

Notes:

And there we are, the stage is set.

I have several chapters already written out. I want to post them all at once but I also don't want to overload with a bunch of chapters and then condemn any readers to a long period of waiting while I write the next few.

I will update over the course of the next few days/weeks and then updates will most definitely slow down once I catch up.

Chapter 3: The Body

Summary:

Something washes up on the shores of the Dragon's Edge

Notes:

I suppose I should put a mild content warning on this chapter. It's nothing too graphic but there are some detailed descriptions of injuries and descriptions of what is thought to be a corpse. I just thought I'd let you all know ahead of time in case you are a bit squeamish about such things.

It wouldn’t be until the next morning that the storm finally died down. The quiet that followed was almost worse. They each stepped out of the safety of the shelter to look at what remained of the Edge. Miraculously, there was only slight damage to some of the buildings and the stables seemed to be entirely intact which was a major relief. The small boats moored at the shore on the other hand had seen better days. 

 

They each went out to assess the damage and to clean up the debris around the camp. The pathways were littered with fish and broken tree branches, leaves and other strange materials dug up by the sea and thrown up upon the Edge. Hiccup assigned each of them a task. Snotlout and the Twins were to clean up the walkways, Heather and Astrid were sent to look after the dragons and ensure they weren’t too shaken after last night’s storm and Fishlegs had been sent out scouting, to assess the damage around the island and report back. Hiccup took on the task of repairing some of the damaged buildings.

 

It was difficult work, some of the supports had cracked and needed to be replaced. There was a bit of flooding damage on the lower half of the edge but nothing too serious. Doors had been blown open and the hinges had been busted, so those would need to be repaired. One of the buildings housing some of their food supply had been thoroughly flooded, ruining their stores and would need to be restocked. Hiccup began to make a list of all the work that needed to be done over the coming weeks. They would need to put their conflict with Viggo and the dragon hunters on hold for the time being. If the Edge were in such disrepair it would put them at strategic disadvantage.

 

“Hiccup,” it was the softness of Fishlegs’ voice that caught the young man’s attention, he paused looking over the damaged wood and turned to face him. His face was an odd shade of green and his eyes were a bit wide and haunted. He was staring past Hiccup in such a way that he almost turned round again to see if there was some sort of ghost hovering just over his shoulder.

 

“What is it, Fishlegs?” Hiccup asked, a deep seed of worry planting itself within his stomach as he waited for the answer. Heather and Astrid, who had just finished tending to the dragons and were coming to offer their help, stepped closer to hear the no doubt bad news that Fishlegs had to offer. Whatever it was couldn’t be good with the expression that was plastered across his face. Even Snotlout and the Twins had stopped their goofing off to listen in on the conversation, instinctually knowing that something was wrong.

 

Fishlegs opened his mouth and then abruptly closed it again, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. Finally after a moment’s pause he finally spoke, “It’s… it’s better if I showed you.”

 

Hiccup didn’t like the sound of that. The seed of worry was rapidly sprouting into a full bloom of dread that was curling around his insides and tangling them in knots. He ignored the sickening sensation and composed himself, nodding his head instead.

 

“Alright, go on then,” he turned to Toothless and nodded, the dragon nodding reassuringly back to him as if to tell him that whatever it was that lay in wait for him, he could handle it.

 

It was a bit of a walk to the beach where Fishlegs was leading them. The other riders had paused in their chores and elected to follow along, though they had not been invited. Fishlegs gave no indication that it was a private matter so Hiccup was inclined to let them come with them. It always felt better to have a team at one’s side than to go into particularly sticky or upsetting situations alone and Hiccup had a sneaking suspicion that he would like the moral support. 

 

The rocks clattered as they awkwardly made their way down the steep incline and towards the rocky shore below. The beach before them was a mess, debris from shipwrecks, both old and new lay scattered across the blackened rocks. Not only that, dead sea creatures yanked from the briney deep and slammed unceremoniously upon dry earth littered the shore line, causing a dreadful but not unfamiliar stench of rotting fish to fill the air. 

 

It was certainly unpleasant but Hiccup couldn’t exactly place what it was about the storm wrecked beach that had Fishlegs so worked up. Was there some sort of new dragon that had been pulled up from the depths? Were they hurt or in need of help? Hiccup scanned up and down for any sign that this might be the case but… no. There was nothing. 

 

“Fishlegs, what-” Hiccup began but cut himself off when he saw that Toothless’ sharp dragon eyes had zeroed in on something and he was now focusing intently on the far side of the beach. His ears were flat and he was hesitantly sniffing the air, clearly disturbed by whatever it was he had sensed. Hiccup really didn’t like that. He furrowed his brow as he followed the dragon’s gaze, his eyes stopping on a small mass of debris that was almost impossible to make out from here. 

 

That planted dread tugged at his insides one more time, reminding him that it was there and that he should be wary. 

 

“Guys stay back,” he gestured to the riders behind him, “I’m going to go get a closer look.”

 

Fishlegs was just staring at his feet, looking as though he were going to be sick. 

 

Hiccup slowly moved closer, stepping carefully over the mounds of debris and wreckage that stood in his path. Finally he knelt down next to the strange pile of cloth and wood and indiscernible material. Now that he was closer he was positive that it was the remains of some sort of organic matter perhaps? He narrowed his eyes, trying to force the pattern recognition parts of his brain to piece it together, to make sense of what he was looking at. 

 

A strong gust of wind blew back the tattered sail that covered the top half of the pile and Hiccup froze when he saw what was underneath. It was the missing piece his brain needed to sort everything together and the sudden recognition of what it was hit him like a dragon blast to the face. It took all his strength not to stagger back in horror.

 

It was a corpse.

 

Now that he recognized it, it was so obvious. The bloated and battered body was clearly in its first stages of decomposition and it was for this reason that it was nearly unrecognizable at first. The damage of the sea combined with the horrid state in which the poor soul had been when they had died had left the body appearing to be more of an abstract lump of flesh than an actual person. The stink of rotting fish and sea creatures had been enough to cover up whatever smell it should have been emitting so it blended in with everything else. 

 

The next thing that hit Hiccup was just how small it was.

 

Oh Thor…

 

Hiccup reeled at the realization.

 

It was a child.

 

He sat down heavily on the beach, hand covering his mouth and looking away from the horrifying sight of the child’s decaying body. 

 

‘Thank you Fishlegs’ he thought to himself sarcastically, ‘This is exactly the sort of thing I wanted to look at first thing in the morning’. It was just his luck that the gods would drown some poor boy and then throw his mangled corpse on Hiccup’s doorstep. That was just the kind of mess he would have to clean up.

 

He closed his eyes miserably as he suddenly realized that chances were high that someone out there in the archipelago would be missing this child, searching frantically high and low for them and unless Hiccup were able to somehow find the identity of this child, they would never get an answer. They would search forever and they would likely never find one. It was at this notion that Hiccup decided to use his one designated F-bomb for the day.

 

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, dragging his hand slowly down his face. 

 

“Great Odin and Freya…” he heard Snotlout mutter beside him and similar such expletives from the remaining dragon riders who had curiously joined his side. One by one they all caught sight of the macabre scene and one by one they turned away in disgust and horror. Even the twins who were not so easily upset by such things seemed to be shaken by the discovery. After all, nobody was keen on finding the bodies of young boys, especially not in the state that this one was in.

 

“What should we do, Hiccup?” Astrid finally said after a long pause, “Should we hold a funeral for him, pull out one of the spare boats or…” she trailed off, not really certain of what other alternatives they had. 

 

“I…” Hiccup paused, taking a deep breath, “We have to try and figure out his identity, or at least what tribe he comes from…”

 

“Oh,” Snotlout wrinkled his nose in disgust, “That means you’d have to…” he paused for a moment, the realization dawning on him before he suddenly shouted out “Not it!”

 

“Nose goes!” Yelled Tuffnut and Ruffnut quickly followed her brother’s lead, putting her finger to her nose. 

 

“Of for Thor’s sake,” snapped Heather, “This isn’t a game, this is a dead child!”

 

The silence was uncomfortable.

 

“I’ll examine him,” Hiccup finally said after a moment, steeling himself to get closer to the body.

 

“Are you sure Hiccup, I can do it if-” Heather stepped forward, putting on a brave face though he could see just how upset the sight made her, how upset it made all of them. No, he was the leader here and it was up to him to keep his people safe from threats, both physical and psychological.

 

“No, it’s alright, I’ve got this,” Hiccup reassured her, his resolve unshakeable now that he had made up his mind to do it.

 

Taking a deep breath and subconsciously holding it, he knelt down next to the body of the boy. He really was quite small now that he noticed it. Not just in height but in girth too, he was as skinny as a reed. Dangerously skinny in fact, almost as though he had been starving. Though that may have just been an effect caused by decomposition. It was hard to tell. 

 

The state of his body was quite alarming. His clothes were tattered and torn to shreds, barely hanging onto him and threatening to come undone altogether at the smallest of movements. His skin was horribly discolored, far darker than the average blue hue of death but a deep sickly purple that covered nearly all visible bits of skin on the left side of him like a massive bruise. He was horribly beaten and scarred as well, bruises and open cuts littered his face and limbs and his face was so swollen that most of his facial features were difficult to distinguish. It was horrific, whatever had happened to this boy. His body must have been slammed up against the rocks over and over in the storm. At this rate, it would have been kind if he had drowned almost immediately after being lost to the storm. 

 

Hiccup bit his lip, steeling himself as he reached forward, slowly so very slowly and gently rolled the body of the boy so that he was flat on his back and no longer curled on his side. His skin was ice cold and covered in slime, grime and blood, leaving a disgusting residue behind on Hiccup’s fingers. He had to physically restrain himself from gagging, he took several deep breaths.

 

Once he’d gotten hold of himself, he reached down again, pulling back the damp fur waistcoat that was plastered to his body. The first thing that caught his attention were the strange necklaces that were hanging around his neck. One appeared to be a pair of lobster claws that were strung up on a thick piece of brown twine. The other necklace was a small black star that hung from a black chain. 

 

‘Well, it’s not much but it’s a start’ Hiccup thought to himself. It wasn’t anything that identified where he might have come from, but hopefully they were something they could offer up to any parents or relatives who might come asking about him. 

 

The next thing that caught his eye was the boy’s clothing in itself. He hadn’t paid much mind to it before but what he was wearing was very strange indeed. He was wearing an all black suit with a fur waistcoat and small brown bag on his back. What was most interesting however was what the suit was made of. Hiccup’s eyes widened slightly as he ran his hand along the tattered sleeve. 

 

“Dragon hide…” He couldn’t identify exactly what species it came from but the thick scaled material was unmistakable. This wasn’t a suit crafted from loose scales or shed skin, but from the tanned hide of a black dragon. 

 

“What?” Astrid voiced.

 

“He’s wearing dragon hide,” Hiccup repeated, his lips pulling down into an unmistakable frown.

 

An even tenser silence filled the already tense silence. 

 

“Uh, Hiccup…” Fishlegs’ nervous voice broke the aforementioned tense silence, catching everyone’s attention “There’s something moving…”

 

They all froze, slowly turning to look at the corpse where Fishlegs was pointing. It was obvious straight away that it wasn’t the body itself that was moving, but rather something underneath it. Something was in the dead boy’s bag. 

 

Slowly, cautiously, Hiccup leant down and lifted the boy’s body ever so slightly, just enough to open the small flap of the bag and let free whatever was trapped within. 

 

It had to be said, what Hiccup wasn’t expecting was a small dragon to come flapping excitedly out of the bag. It was a rather small thing, not much larger than a Terrible Terror and it was a bright pinkish violet color with a rather large snout and a curling tail. It reminded Hiccup of a piglet and it was sort of adorable as it buzzed excitedly in the air, looking around with bright and jubilant eyes. It opened its mouth and let out a strange string of babbling sounds as it flapped back and forth, taking in its new surroundings.

 

“A dragon!?” Snotlout exclaimed in surprise.

 

“Not just any dragon,” Fishlegs’ eyes were wide, “A new species!”

 

Hiccup could only blink in bewilderment as the strange little dragon let out a happy barking noise, waggled its curly tail and then swelled up like a puffer fish, making a large pop before deflating again. Then it threw itself on Hiccup’s chest, snuffling him happily and licking his face. The sudden force of it knocked Hiccup back from his squatting position so that he landed heavily on his rear end, laughing as the little creature’s tongue tickled his face.

 

“Easy there, easy there boy,” he chuckled, gently grabbing hold of the happy dragon and pushing it back a bit. In its excitement it puffed up once again into a little ball and then with a pop it deflated. 

 

“What is it doing?” Asked Fishlegs.

 

“It’s like a little dog, or like a pig… a dog pig. A dig? A pog.” Tuffnut mused, putting a hand to his chin and narrowing his eyes, clearly thinking hard on the subject.

 

“It’s kind of adorable,” Heather said, leaning forward and scratching the small dragon under the chin. It turned its happy gaze on her and let out another few barks followed by another strange string of gibbering sounds before it licked her fingers happily. 

 

“It doesn’t seem to know about…” 

 

They all turned to look at the small boy on the beach and each of them felt their hearts sink. 

 

The dragon, noticing all of their attention directed to the beach turned its gaze to see what they were looking at. It wiggled out of Hiccup’s grip and flapped down to the boy’s side, hopping up onto the body and settling down on his chest. It began to let out a strange purring noise as it rested there happily, still seemingly unaware of what had happened. It seemed to be a tragically stupid creature, and that only made things worse.

 

“What do we do?” 

 

None of them particularly wanted to sit there and watch the slow realization hit the dragon of the fate of his friend. It would be far too sad to witness. Why did Thor seem so keen to make the situation worse?

 

The dragon lifted it’s head and began licking the boy’s swollen cheek, still oblivious to his deceased status when suddenly-

 

A low, gentle groaning filled the silence. 

 

It was quiet, just barely audible over the sounds of the crashing waves but it was there and it was unmistakable.

 

“No way…” muttered Fishlegs.

 

They all stared in astonishment as one of the corpse’s fingers twitched ever so slightly. And then it twitched again, much more visibly and unmistakably now, and then-

 

“...Hogfly..” it was so quiet, Hiccup thought he had imagined it at first, but then the boy let out a strange strangled shrieking sound. It was a pained sort of gargle that was cut off by a strange crackling sound in his throat and then he burst into a round of pained coughs that spewed red stained sea water onto his lips and chest.

 

There was a stunned silence.

 

“Holy Thor in Valhalla he’s alive!” shouted Snotlout in amazement. 

 

“Zombie!” screamed Tuffnut, cowering back in fear, “Evil creature begone! Quick find a wooden stake, some garlic, anything!” 

 

“That’s for vampires you idiot,” scolded Ruffnut, smacking her brother over the head, “What we need is silver and salt, zombies can’t cross salt-”

 

“Enough!” Exclaimed Hiccup, “We don’t have time for this, he needs immediate medical attention!”

 

Hiccup’s stern voice immediately dispelled the brewing argument. 

 

“Heather and Fishlegs, run ahead and prepare a bed and the medical supplies! Ruffnut, Tuffnut, fetch a stretcher and some bandages. Astrid, you stay with me and help to apply first aid and make sure he’s stable enough to move! Snotlout, you take Hogfly and make sure he’s safe and out of the way.”

 

“Hogfly?” Snotlout raised a brow in confusion.

 

“I think that’s the dragon’s name,” Hiccup said, handing Snotlout the small happy dragon. 

 

And as they had all trained to do in a crisis, they shot off to accomplish their individual tasks. There would be time to argue and complain later, right now they had a boy’s life in their hands and they would be damned if they didn’t do their best to save him. 

 

The boy’s breathing was strained and he was clearly struggling to get the proper amount of air in his lungs as they were likely to be half filled with seawater. His eyes had cracked open but his gaze was glassy and he was staring vacantly up at the sky, his lips occasionally moving with very little of his words actually understandable. 

 

“He looks safe to move, I don’t detect any back or neck injuries,” Astrid said after thoroughly looking the boy over. 

 

“Then let’s get him back on his side,” Hiccup replied, rolling him over so that he could better clear the water from his lungs. The boy coughed and spluttered, spraying bloody water onto the beach as he struggled to catch his breath. 

 

“Oh Hiccup, his arm…” Astrid said, tenderly lifting up the swollen purple arm. Hiccup looked closer and grimaced as he saw the two terrible fangs lodged deep in the swelling flesh. 

 

“Dragon fangs…” a realization came to him, “The purple hue of his skin, do you think it’s venom?” 

 

Astrid nodded, grimacing as well, “What happened to this kid?”

 

Hiccup was wondering the same thing, the more they looked him over, the more it was clear that the storm wasn’t the only thing that had put him in this state. 

 

“...Fine…” murmured the boy, and both Astrid and Hiccup leaned in close to hear what he was trying to say, “...we’ll be fine.. Into the wind… just have to make it to Tomorrow…”

 

He was trying to soothe himself with meaningless words, small whispers of comfort one makes when they know they are about to die but do not want to accept it. It pained both their hearts to hear it and they glanced at one another, that same pain echoing in each other's eyes. 

 

“Yes, it’s all right,” Astrid soothed, “We have you, you’re going to make it, you’ll be alright.” 

 

The boy didn’t seem to consciously hear her, but something about the action must have registered on some level because the agitation in the boy’s face faded somewhat and he seemed to relax ever so slightly. 

 

It was then that the twins arrived with the bandages and stretcher and they quickly worked to stem the bleeding of open wounds and then carried him back to the fort. It wasn’t difficult, the boy was so light that any one of them could lift him singlehandedly if they really wanted to, which was a bit alarming but not surprising given his size. The real trouble was in trying not to jostle him too much as they climbed up the steep and rocky terrain back to the encampment. Every time they did so, the boy let out a pained groan which was followed by a string of unintelligible mumbled words. 

 

It was a relief when they finally made it to the room that Heather and Fishlegs had prepared for them. They gently transferred the boy from the stretcher and on to the soft bed that was waiting for him. Hopefully now he would be a bit more comfortable and warm as they worked, the boy was as cold as ice and they really needed to get his temperature up or his body would shut down entirely.

 

“Fishlegs, find him some new clothes, something warm and dry to wear,” Hiccup ordered, “Heather, can you get warm and damp rags, we need to begin cleaning off all the grime before we treat him or risk infection. Ruff, Tuff, you can return to working on fixing up the storm damage.”

 

“On it Hiccup,” Fishlegs replied and Heather nodded, the two of them racing off to complete their assigned tasks. The twins were less happy about their rolls, complaining that they were missing all the action and that they hated their chores and a bunch of other nonsense but nonetheless they wandered out of the room and returned to at least pretending to do what they were told, though Hiccup had the suspicious feeling that when he came out there later there was a significant chance he’d find the area a little worse off somehow than when they had begun. 

 

“Astrid,” Hiccup turned to the blonde warrior, “How fast do you think you can fly to Berk and back?”

 

Astrid frowned, “I don’t think I’d be able to make it in less than three days, even pushing Stormfly as fast as she’ll go.”

 

Hiccup pursed his lips and nodded thinking to himself.

 

“And if you take Toothless, you might be able to cut that down to one or two days,” Astrid’s eyes widened slightly.

 

“You’d have me take Toothless?”

 

“We need Gothi and her potions, she’s the only one who’ll even know where to begin treating the poison and the infections, and the boy is too unstable to make the trip. I don’t know if we can keep him alive on our own. It’s the only way.”

 

Astrid nodded, turning to Toothless who was close behind, listening intently to the conversation. 

 

“Well, you heard Hiccup, you willing to fly with me to Berk?” The dragon let out a grunt and seemed to nod his head in affirmation. 

 

“You’ll need to be fast, bud,” Hiccup said, gently scratching Toothless between the ears, “I don’t know how long we can hold out. I know I can count on you to return as fast as you can.” Hiccup smiled fondly and knelt down and hugged the dragon, “See you soon, Bud, take care.” 

 

“We’ll be back as soon as possible,” Astrid announced, leading Toothless out the door and mounting his back, “Just make sure he’s still alive when we get back.”

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

And with that Astrid and Toothless launched into the air, speeding off in the direction of Berk, moving so fast they were nearly as difficult to track with the eye as a speeding arrow.

 

Hiccup turned back to the boy, whom Heather had stripped down to his undergarments and was now going through the careful process of cleaning the grime and blood away and disinfecting open wounds with the aid of medicinal spirits. It didn’t seem to be a pleasant process for the boy who was half conscious now and groaning in pain, occasionally letting out a strangled cry or a half intelligible word. 

 

“How is he?” Hiccup asked, kneeling beside her.

 

“Hiccup,” Heather began, shaking her head in disbelief, “This is the worst I’ve seen in a long time. It’s far worse than what we saw on the beach. It’s not even just the new wounds, but the old ones as well.” 

 

She gestured to his swollen and purple arm with the dragon fangs lodged within, “I think these will have to be removed surgically, as far as I can tell they are serrated and might only do more damage if we pull them out. The venom has turned the entire left half of his body almost black and I think both his arm and leg are paralyzed. He doesn’t respond at all unless I pull at the fangs.” 

 

“And look here,” she gestured to his fingers, nose and ears, “This is severe frostbite, he’s lucky that he doesn’t lose any appendages.” She gestured to his bleeding forehead which had a massive gash that cleaning with the rag had reopened slightly, “Severe head trauma, and look at his right cheek,” Three large claw marks from the bottom of his swollen eye down to his jawline, they still looked red and agitated as if they had only just healed over. She moved on down to the various cuts and bruises all over his body, “And it almost looks like he was beaten!”

 

Hiccup was wincing.

 

“And look here at his chest,” the boy’s chest was littered with scars and scrapes both jagged as if from claws but also clean as if from swords or other weapons. But most notable was a massive scar that ran from his collarbone all the way down to the bottom of his ribcage, it was red and jagged and looked several years old but as though it were somehow still painful all this time later.

 

“And look at his legs, Hiccup, who is this boy!?” She gestured to the boy's legs which from the knees downward were covered in awful burn scars but the patterning was different from the sort you would receive from a fire. Both of his feet, but the right in particular had been left deformed by the scars and several of his toes were shriveled husks of the appendages they once had been and one even seemed to be missing entirely.

 

Hiccup hadn’t seen this kind of scarring on anyone except for the old warriors of their tribe who had spent years and years fighting against the dragons. To see it on a boy so young, younger than even he had been when he’d first met Toothless, was a bit harrowing, and it left him wondering what sort of life the boy had had. Hiccup was now beginning to wonder if perhaps it was better to keep him here and away from whomever was looking after him as it might be safer for him to be away from them than in their care. 

 

The boy chose that moment to lift his head and look at them, actually look at them, with half lucid eyes.

 

“I have to…” he began, choking on the words, “I have to… I have to make it there…” 

 

“Where?” Hiccup asked, taking the boy’s hand gently.

 

“I…” the boy paused, looking confused, “I don’t know… I have to make it…”

 

“Hey, hey, hey, shh sh,” Heather soothed, lowering the boy’s head back down to the pillow, “It’s alright, you’re going to be alright.”

 

“No… no… I…” the boy burst into a fit of coughing, “I need to… everyone’s counting on me…” his eyes filled with tears, “I need to do it… I need to get there, please Thor let me get there, just let me get there!” He was growing increasingly more agitated as he spoke. 

 

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, pushing himself up and to Heather and Hiccup’s amazement, he somehow struggled to his feet, somehow managing to actually stand despite his critical condition, “I’ll be fine… I just need to get to tomorrow, I just have to get to tomorrow…” he repeated this phrase under his breath over and over as he began to limp forward, making his way towards the door. 

 

“Woah hey!” Hiccup exclaimed in alarm, grabbing the boy by the shoulders, “Stop, you can’t go, you have to lay down, you’re injured and very ill! You need immediate medical attention.”

 

“No, no, no” the boy mumbled, struggling feebly in Hiccup’s grasp before he collapsed into his chest, his energy completely spent. Hiccup gently laid him back down on the bed where the boy was unable to rise again, all his strength gone. All he could do now was mumble quietly to himself, tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

It was a truly pitiful sight, this half dead boy in such a state of agony and emotional distress. Whatever had happened to him, it truly had to be something traumatic. It seemed helping him live to see the next morning would only be half the struggle, it was what came after that would truly be the greater trial. 

 

It wasn’t long before the boy passed out again. 

 

“Great Odin…” Hiccup breathed, lost for any other words. 

 

There was a long silence before he took a warm rag from the bucket Heather was using to wipe the boy down and began helping her to clean him. They worked in silence, neither of them knowing what to say, if there was anything left to say. They each knew the other was wondering the exact same thing and that the other lacked the answers to the questions they both longed to ask. 

 

Notes:

So yeah, Book!Hiccup isn't doing too great at the moment, Book 11 was rough. I really don't know how he made it through Book 12 in that state, boy has a titanium will.

Finally our two worlds have collided and the two Hiccups have met... sort of. The movie crew is surely in for some interesting conversations once Book!Hiccup becomes lucid enough to talk with them. It's one of the main reasons I separated the Wodensfang, a dragon that can speak Norse might be a bit much for them all at once lol.

Also, I adore the Hogfly. Truly no thoughts head empty.

Thanks for reading, I really hope you are enjoying it so far. If you have any thoughts or suggestions, please let me know.

Chapter 4: Red the Clever

Summary:

Book!Hiccup wakes up, to say he is a little overwhelmed would be an understatement.

The boy woke up with a start. 

 

He was greeted with pain, overwhelming pain that punched him square in the chest and left him breathless for several minutes. He groaned, immediately regretting jumping to a sitting position and slowly lowered himself down, letting the terrible hurt that encompassed his whole body fade to a dull ache that, while still moderately agonizing, was more bearable than it had been just moments before. 

 

The first thing he noticed after the pain was the warmth. He was warm and dry, two things he knew were quite unusual for him to be. He knew for a fact that most of his life had been spent in various states of damp and shivering, so the warmth really was something that stood out to him. He took a moment to relish in it, the ability to smell the warm gentle woodsmoke of a safe fire, the gentle crackling it made, the waves of heat it sent over his body. It was nice.

 

The second thing he noticed was just how comfortable he was, well if he ignored all the pain that he was currently in, but he was used to that so it was rather easy to put that out of his mind and focus on the soft bed beneath him and the thick woolen blankets he was wrapped in and the cozy, slightly too large clothes that were dry for once and were softer than any he’d ever worn before. 

 

This was the safest he’d felt in years now. Perhaps the safest he’d ever felt in his entire life. For once he could pretend that he was a normal boy, on a normal peaceable island, perhaps a farmer and he would have to get up in several hours to tend to the sheep or the cows. He would collect the eggs in a nice woven basket, handmade by his mother who was kind and loving and never left home for longer than a day and his father would tell him he was proud of him and loved him no matter what went wrong. He would greet his friends of course, so many of them, all of them kind and gentle, who loved to read and discuss the new kinds of dragons they’d seen that day and later they would be going to a festival that would not involve any deadly activities and would be a nice quiet, peaceful affair where they stuffed themselves silly with delicious treats from around the world. 

 

It was a nice pretend. The boy was happy to let it go on for several minutes, nearly drifting off to a dreamland where, for the next several hours, all of those things would be true until he woke up again. He would have done so as well, if it weren’t for a sudden weight landing on his bruised chest.

 

He let out a gasp of pain and his eyes shot open, only to be met with a pair of round hypnotic golden eyes that were staring down at him expectantly. 

 

“Oh yippee, you’re awake!” The little dragon exclaimed, inflating into a little ball before deflating again with a little pop.

 

“I am,” the boy replied unhappily.

 

“Oh goodie!” the dragon hopped up and down, eliciting a pained gasp with each little jump.

 

“Hogfly!” the boy coughed, “Please, I am grateful for your enthusiasm, truly, but you are hurting me!”

 

“Oh,” the little creature stopped it’s bouncing, much to the boy’s relief, “I’m sorry, dear oh dear!” He began licking the boy’s face to make up for his tremendous lack of critical thinking skills, something which Hogflies are not known for having in the first place so overall it was a forgivable offense. 

 

The boy couldn’t help but give a fond laugh at the tickling little tongue of the Hogfly kissing his cheeks. And for a moment he could pretend again, pretend that everything was alright and that he was somewhere safe and warm and happy. 

 

“It’s okay, Hogfly,” the boy laughed softly, “I forgive you.” 

 

The Hogfly wagged his tail happily.

 

“Now,” the boy cleared his throat, ready to end the lovely imaginings he had been contemplating and come back to the cold truth of reality, “Where are we Hogly?”

 

The boy had to admit, as he looked around the room he was in he could find nothing familiar, nothing except for the little Hogfly who was perched upon his chest. Everything else was a complete mystery to him, especially the sense of comfort that was so foreign to him he was growing suspicious of it. It was almost too good to be true, and if there was one constant in the young boy’s life it was this: once things seemed to be going well, it was only a matter of time before things spiraled downhill again into a state far far worse than it had been before.

 

“Ohh,” drawled the Hogfly, “Now that is a tough one,” he buzzed contemplatively as he thought for a moment, “Rome I think.”

 

The boy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, “Rome!?” he nearly fell out of the bed with shock, “But this doesn’t look anywhere like Rome!” his breathing began to quicken as he looked about wildly for any Romans who might be lurking about. The civilized brutes were keen on taking over the world at the moment and barbaric non-Romans such as the boy were fit to be used as slaves or gladiators in their colosseums. Or to be executed on the spot if they didn’t take a liking to you. 

 

“Or Gaul…” the Hogfly continued, still thinking deeply, “Or maybe Berserk… Or Hysteria…”

 

The boy relaxed slightly, it was clear to him now that the Hogfly had no idea where they were and that he was just listing the names of all the places he knew of. It was only comforting insofar as the boy was fairly positive that they were not in Rome. The fact that he still had no idea where he was was still quite unsettling.

 

But it would be okay, everything would be okay, he just needed to get back to-

 

Back to where, exactly? And why? To whom?

 

The boy froze, a deep terror settling over him as he found not a single answer to any of those questions in his mind. There was another question as well, one whose lack of an answer truly and deeply terrified him.

 

“Hogfly,” he asked again, very slowly, his voice so soft it was hardly audible, “Who am I?”

 

“Oh that’s easy!” the Hogfly exclaimed, “You’re a dragon!”

 

“What?” the boy just stared at him in bewilderment.

 

“You speak Dragonese!” The Hogfly said happily, “So you must be a dragon, thank you very much, sorry!”

 

“Dragonese?” The boy’s eyes widened as he indeed realized that he was, in fact, not speaking Norse at all, but rather the strange language of the dragons. It was hard to miss the fact now as Dragonese is punctuated with a lot of screeches and pops and sounds most extraordinary when spoken by a human. 

 

This did not make him a dragon sadly, though he could understand the Hogfly’s confusion. Hogflies were confused most of the time as they were not exactly the brightest among the dragon species and in fact were so unintelligent it was a wonder their species had not yet gone extinct. 

 

“Alright,” the boy said, not feeling the need to correct the little dragon, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, “But what is my name?”

 

“Your name?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, er um…” The Hogfly looked upset as it tried to think, “Red,” he settled on, his eyes locked firmly on the boy’s hair, “Red the.. Um… Reddy.” 

 

“Red the Reddy…” the boy repeated, fairly certain that this was not his name, but it did lead him to lifting up a lock of his hair and examining it, and indeed it was a very bright red. 

 

“Not the best name, but I can work with it…” he frowned, “How about Redheart the… the Clever!” That was a bit nicer than Red the Reddy. “But you can just call me Red if you’d like, Hogfly.”

 

“Oh goodie, yessie, I will, thanks grandma, thank you very much, where’s the toothbrush?” 

 

“Thank you, Hogfly, you’ve been very helpful,” Red said, patting the little dragon on the head with his right hand, the one that didn’t feel like hell to move, and the Hogfly swelled up with joy. Hogflies love to be helpful. 

 

“Alright Red the Clever,” Red said to himself, bracing for the pain as he sat up once again, “Time to get a move on.” While he didn’t know who he was or where he was, he did have the awful sense that there was something he ought to be doing at the moment. It was nagging at the back of his mind, coinciding with the awful pounding in his skull and he knew he’d never know peace sitting still and doing nothing, even if he did feel as though he had just been to Helheim and back. 

 

He lifted the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as he saw the burns and the scars both new and old and furrowing his brow in confusion at the odd purple hue of his left leg. There were pins and needles all up and down that leg as well, it felt as though it had fallen asleep for a long time and was now going through the painful process of waking up. His left arm felt quite the same except far worse. He examined it and saw that it was a much darker hue of purple and there were freshly closed scars in the shape of bite marks all up and down his forearm. 

 

What on earth had happened to him?

 

He shook his head, it didn’t matter. What he did know was that he had to get out of here and get to… somewhere, as fast as he could. 

 

He rose from the bed and nearly collapsed immediately, his bad leg giving out beneath him so he had to grab the nightstand for support. 

 

“Great Hairy Biceps of Thor,” he cursed through clenched teeth, the pain washing over him fully now, “This was a truly bad idea.” 

 

But bad idea or not, he continued forward, inching his way across the room and accustoming himself to the pain, each step growing stronger as he limped for the door. 

 

The light of the shining sun nearly blinded him and he squinted his bruised and swollen eyes, unable to handle the brightness of it all. It was a beautiful day out, there was barely a cloud in sight, the breeze was a bit chilly and crisp, but it smelled of the sea and the warm sunlight did much to counteract the coolness of the air. It was quiet except for the calling of the gulls and the crashing of the waves in the distance. He was in a building on a small overlook, down below he saw several more buildings which looked down on the sea below. 

 

“Where are we going!” The Hogfly shouted, happily wagging his little tail as he followed after Red. 

 

“Shhh!” Red hushed frantically, “Hogfly we need to be quiet!”

 

“Why!?” the dumb little creature shouted. Red felt like screaming. He had no idea where he was or who he was with. It was entirely possible that he was with friends and he was safe. It was also possible that he had been caught by some less than friendly individuals who were just as likely to hurt him as to help. It would have been easier to parse through all this if he hadn’t been suffering from major brain trauma, but alas there wasn’t much he could do about that. Said head injury combined with a deep paranoia he could not explain led him to be less than rational at the moment about whether he was in the company of friend or foe. 

 

“Because we are playing a game, Hogfly,” the idea came to him quite suddenly.

 

“A game!” the Hogfly swelled with excitement, “Oh goodie! What game? I love games!”

 

“The being very very quiet game!” Red replied, “Whoever makes a sound first loses!”

 

“Ohhhh I love that game! I won the game the last time! I’m very good at it!”

 

“But remember Hogfly, if we are playing the game, you have to be quiet, that’s how the game is played!”

 

“Oh right! Sorry, thank you!” The Hogfly went quiet, happily buzzing behind Red as he began sneaking along the walkway. 

 

That was when he heard the sound of voices and smelled the mouthwatering aroma of breakfast. So it was morning. And he wasn’t alone. 

 

It calmed his nerves a bit to hear that the voices were indeed speaking Norse and not Latin or languages even worse like those of the Outcasts or the Uglithugs. Norse was a bit more dependable, but it did not mean safe. Nothing was safe in the Barbaric Archipelago. 

 

He rounded a corner and pressed himself to the wall. He was pressing himself up against a large building with a large open doorway from which he could tell the sound of voices were coming from. He would have to find another way around, hopefully there was another path around the back but it seemed unlikely as the building was pressed up against a cliff. He might have to use his newly acquired sneaking skills but in the broad daylight and with an overexcitable dragon at his heel this was unlikely. 

 

“Have you fed the dragons yet, Snotlout?” A man’s voice said and Red nearly fell over. 

 

Snotlout. 

 

Something about that name was horribly familiar. Familiar in a way that made his skin crawl and his stomach do little loop de loops inside him. He oddly felt like crying though he wasn’t certain why. He swallowed hard and continued listening.

 

“Give me a break Fishlegs, it’s barely nine in the morning, let me get food myself before you start slave driving me!”

 

Fishlegs.

 

Red felt like he needed to lie back down, his head was pounding.

 

“They need to be fed at dawn or they get cranky,” Fishlegs replied sternly.

 

“I’m cranky Fishlegs, I was up all night with that stupid Hogfly dragon,” Snotlout replied frustrated, “Do you know how hard it is to sleep with that thing jumping up and down on your head all night, chirping and popping and gibbering the entire time!? I have half a mind to throw the thing into the ocean next time I see it!”

 

“Alright Snotlout, you’ve made your point,” another man chimed in, “Eat your breakfast and then you can tend to the dragons. They can wait a bit longer for breakfast this morning, it's not the end of the world.”

 

Red’s head was spinning. Not much of the conversation made sense to him except for the piece about the dragons. 

 

Dragons, they had dragons. Of course they had dragons, they were vikings, what sort of self respecting viking didn’t have a dragon? It seemed Red would have to put his skills in burglary to the test. He would sneak down to the riding dragon stables and he would nick one of the dragons and ride off to… well wherever it was he was supposed to go. He would figure it out eventually… he hoped. 

 

He was about to turn round and make his way to the stables he had spotted from his vantage point when he heard the ‘step tap step tap’ of footsteps and he quickly scrambled around the corner of the building to remain out of sight. The sound of those footsteps had caused his heartbeat to quicken, the unique pattern of walking setting off alarm bells in his brain that screamed at him to run.

 

A young man stepped out of the building and walked to the edge of the overlook, staring out at the horizon and stretching. He had short fluffy brown hair and was quite skinny for a viking but he held himself with such confidence that Red hardly seemed to notice his slim size. He was missing a foot, and in its place was a strange metal contraption. This accounted for the unique walking pattern he had heard before. 

The man turned slightly to continue his conversation with his companions so now Red could see his face. Green eyes and fair features, a faint spattering of freckles on his face. He was a good looking man, and he had a light sparkle in his eye that indicated a zest for life that Red wished he himself possessed.

Red wasn’t sure why, but from his vantage he took the opportunity to scan the man’s forehead. He was searching for something, though he wasn’t sure what, and when he didn’t find it his blood froze in his veins. 

 

Enemies. 

 

These were enemies.

 

He didn’t know how he knew but the fear coiling itself within him was almost too much to bear. His heart nearly gave out then and there and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was shaking now. He waited in absolute silence for the man to re-enter the building before he bolted. 

 

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him along the path and towards the dragon stables he had seen before. He had to get there without being caught, he had to hurry. He had to free those dragons and then he had to flee, get as far away as he could before… before.. He wasn’t sure what and he felt like crying. Why was everything so confusing, why couldn’t he just remember!?

 

He skidded to a halt once he reached the door and to the best of his ability, he quietly swung it open. He was immediately greeted by the baying of several dragons who all rose curiously in their cages. 

 

Dragons in cages. 

 

Red shuddered. Dragons should not ever be placed in cages, there is nothing so terrible to the free beasts as to lock them away, keeping them from the skies and the seas where they belong. He had seen this too often over the course of his life and he would not stand for it any longer. 

 

“Hello,” he called out softly in Dragonese, approaching the doors and fiddling with the handle.

 

“Ah! Little worm! Fresh meat!” One head of a two headed dragon exclaimed excitedly, “What is? What is? Is food?”

 

“Er, no,” Red said awkwardly, “I am not food. My name is Redheart, I’m here to help.”

 

The dragons all stared at him curiously for a moment, silent as they blinked in astonishment. They looked at one another before turning back to him.

 

“You…” said one dragon, her words seeming a bit foreign in her mouth as though she were unused to speaking them, “You speak greenblood?” 

 

 “Yes,” Red replied, “I am a friend of the dragons. I’m here to rescue you.”

 

 “Rescue?” the dragon seemed confused by this, “Danger? Sense Danger?”

 

Now Dragonese is a very strange language to describe. It borrows quite a lot of words from Norse and warps and simplifies them in many ways to fit the mouths of dragons. Beyond this many of the words are not words in the sense that humans would describe them, rather strange popping, clicking, hissing and screeching noises that take a lot of skill and effort to discern, let alone replicate. This is one reason that finding humans who speak the language is quite rare. The other is that the speaking of the language had been banned for decades and the tongue had been seen as the language of slaves and undesirables. Red had had to learn the language on his own, in secret and he had become quite fluent in it, almost to the point that he preferred it over Norse.

 

What struck him was the strange way that these dragons spoke their Dragonese. It used hardly any of the borrowed Norse words and seemed to rely entirely on the more draconic aspects of the language. In fact, any humans not aware of the language would hear nothing more than the screeching of beasts and it would be difficult to explain to them that there was anything being said at all beyond basic primal communication.

 

‘What an interesting dialect,’ he thought to himself. He had only heard similar such ways of speaking from the dragons that burrowed deep underground and had lived so long away from the greater world above that they had become entirely separated both genetically and linguistically. Perhaps it wasn’t so much an issue of intelligence, but rather some dragons just had difficulties pronouncing the more common tongues with their differently adapted vocal abilities.

 

Fascinating, if Red had his notebook, he would be writing this down. 

 

“Yes, it is not right that dragons such as yourselves be kept in cages and used as slaves. It is the right of all beings to be free.”

 

“Slaves?” the dragons all muttered to one another in confusion, “What is 'slaves'…? proud warriors!”

 

As fascinating as it was that these dragons seemed to speak another, far simpler dialect of Dragonese, it was making their conversation a bit more difficult to parse and Red really didn’t have time to sit and debate semantics. If he remembered correctly from the conversation he had overheard, it was only a matter of time before one of the vikings came down to feed the dragons that morning. 

 

“Listen,” Red said, eyeing the door nervously, “We need to go, now! It is not safe here and we have to run! We can discuss the meaning of slavery later, but for now we must run.”

 

The dragons all looked at one another. It was tremendous really, Red didn’t recognize a single species. He must be somewhere far indeed, washed up on some shore where the dragons here had evolutionarily separated from the species of his homeland. It was just his luck that they all seemed to be rather docile species who were willing to speak first and bite later. It also made him a bit nervous as he was a bit more defenseless if one of them did decide to attack him.  

 

“What is your name,” Red asked, slowly approaching the spiked blue dragon.

 

“Stormfly,” the dragon replied, sending a rolling wave of shivers down Red’s spine. What was going on? He felt that name pressing at the back of his mind before he focused and pushed it away from conscious thought. He didn’t have time for this. He would make sense of things when he was safe and far, far away from here. 

 

“Hello, Stormfly,” he said gently, placing a hand on her flank and stroking gently, the dragon bristled for a moment before relaxing, leaning into the touch, “Would you mind if I rode you? I need to get away, and fast. I am not safe here and once I have reached my destination you may fly free to wherever your heart desires.” He said softly, doing his best not to startle the beast. 

 

“I might also tell you some very, very silly jokes as well to pass the time.” He added on, remembering that if there was one thing a dragon could not resist, it was jokes and riddling talk. He hoped that this dragon was more of an appreciator of the comedic arts than she was a philosopher because at the current moment his head was not clear enough for any sort of complex communication.

 

“Jokes?” the dragon seemed to think this over before finally nodding, “Very well Red boy, I carry you.”

 

“Oh thank you,” Red let out a sigh of relief. He had been terrified that these dragons might be too obediently trained, brainwashed like the dragons of the Murderous Tribe to follow their masters blindly to their own extinction. He was just about to climb on the blue dragon’s back when a hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and yanked him back. 

 

“What in Thor’s name are you doing with our dragons!” 

 

Red let out a cry of shock and fear as he was spun around to face a young man not much taller than himself but much, much stockier. He had dark black hair and a scowl on his face as he glared at him, holding him by the collar, his eyes never leaving his. 

 

Red reached down to his waist instinctively fumbling for his sword and felt terror claw at his heart as he realized there wasn’t anything there. He was entirely at the much stronger boy’s mercy. No weapons, no strength, he just had his wits and at the moment with his addled brain he wasn't sure he could count on those either. 

 

“Help,” he choked out in Dragonese, “Stormfly, help!” 

 

The dragon looked torn. On one hand here was this silly little human worm who was able to speak the noble tongue of the greenbloods. He was nice and had offered to tell funny jokes and seemed so passionate about setting her free to roam the skies. Not that she couldn’t do that if she wanted to, she was no prisoner here, but he did not seem to know that. On the other hand, the person this funny little worm boy who looked like a rotting haddock was asking her to attack was Snotlout. Now that was not something she was entirely unwilling to do, but Snotlout was a part of her team…

 

The dragon puffed up her spines in agitation and began pacing back and forth, snarling. Snotlout looked up in surprise. 

 

“Stormfly, what on earth-”

 

“What’s going on here?” A sharp female voice broke through the noise and both Red and the dark haired brute’s attention were drawn to the new individual on the scene.

 

“Astrid!” the young man exclaimed, grabbing Red even tighter and hauling him off his feet, “This little punk was just about to run off with your dragon! Luckily I was there just in time to stop him, no need to thank me but if you want to I won’t-”

 

“Stormfly?” Astrid cut the young man off, rushing to the agitated dragon’s side and petting her soothingly, “What is it girl?”

 

“Well, like I was saying,” the young man continued, irritated that he had been interrupted, “This little dweeb was trying to steal her, isn’t that right?”

 

“Well,” choked out Red, “I wouldn’t say stealing exactly, more like borrowing without permission maybe?” 

 

“Borrowing without permission is stealing,” the boy glared at him. 

 

“Do you usually return things you steal?” Red continued, stalling for time, time enough (hopefully) for a fiendishly clever plan to spring into his mind and he could forestall his imminent death to maybe next Tuesday instead. It worked much better for his schedule that way. 

 

“What?”

 

“Well there would be a crucial difference between stealing and borrowing without permission if you consider the fact that in one scenario you keep the item and in the other you return it.” 

 

“Oh gods, he’s just like the twins,” the young man exclaimed in irritation, “Are all thieves like this?”

 

“Except I’m not a thief,” Red interjected, “I haven’t stolen anything, see the dragon is right there.” His head was spinning and he was finding the clever plans department alarmingly blank. He just had to keep talking, surely something would come to him.

 

“But you were going to!” The brute was turning bright red in the face.

 

“Ah, but can you prove I was going to,” Red countered, “Without physical evidence, what you just said is hearsay and is inadmissible in a court of law.”

 

“A court of law?”

 

“Furthermore, I have yet to have been provided a lawyer who can speak for me before the tribe and the elders and thus all this has been rendered void and by the barbaric code you must release me or be sacrificed to the sky dragons on the cliffs of the Murderous Mountains.”

 

The young man looked absolutely dumbfounded. 

 

Now lawyers were more commonly found in Rome and other such civilized places where fair trials and concepts such as 'innocent until proven guilty' were more standard, but Red had learned over his very short but adventurous life that most vikings were not the sharpest knives in the drawer and a great way of handling issues was to occasionally just make things up in the hopes that they will be confused and take your word for it. Very few vikings had the brain capacity to memorize the entire barbaric code but most had too much pride to admit such things so it was always highly likely that they would just accept what you said as fact to avoid looking foolish in front of their men. He wasn't really even sure of what he was saying anymore but clearly it had had the intended effect of confusing the slow viking.

 

"A lawyer?" The young man said stupefied.

 

"Sacrificed?" Another man's voice said from the doorway, "Who's going to be sacrificed? Snotlout, Astrid, what in Thor's name is going on here?"

 

"Our new guest was trying to steal my dragon apparently," the woman glared at Red and he felt himself shrink a little bit. She was surprisingly small for a warrior woman but he could tell by the way she held herself and the fierceness of her gaze that she was not to be underestimated.

 

"Alright, let the kid speak for himself, will you. Drop him Snotlout before you reopen those wounds."

 

"Are you sure Hiccup, he already admitted to 'borrowing her without permission'" he said the last few words while making air quotes with his fingers. The young man, Hiccup Red presumed, just gave him a withering glare and the brute dropped him roughly to the ground with an exaggerated sigh.

 

"Fine, whatever."

 

The rough landing jarred something in his chest and Red erupted into a fit of coughing, leaning heavily against the bars of the dragon pens. He doubled over, holding his limp arm to his chest which was now exploding in tingling pain and he found it was difficult to catch his breath.

 

"Woah, woah, hey, easy there," he felt a gentle hand on his back and he looked up to see the concerned eyes of the man called Hiccup looking down at him. Red's mind was reeling, he wasn't sure whether he should be terrified of these strangers or comforted by their presence. It was all too much. He felt tears pricking his eyes though he wasn't sure whether it was from emotion or from the force of his coughing.

 

"Get him some water!"

 

Several moments passed and suddenly he was being handed a small water skin. He didn't think twice. Taking it he drank greedily, the cool refreshing water soothing his parched throat and easing the cough that had been wracking his body. He took a moment to catch his breath. He didn't realize just how warm he had been feeling until that moment. Now he felt the water dripping onto his burning flesh and he realized how feverish he was.

 

"We need to get him back to bed, he's burning up."

 

"But what about-"

 

"We can interrogate him later, the poison clearly hasn't flushed itself from his body and the infection hasn't cleared yet."

 

The world was fading in and out a bit now, the edges of his vision going white as he tried to focus on his surroundings. It was difficult to focus on who was talking. His head was pounding, the ever present headache he'd had since he'd first woken up reaching a horrible crescendo. He'd been able to block out the pain before with adrenaline but now that the initial rush was fading, the sorry state of his body was coming back to him all at once and it was excruciating. He was faintly aware that more people had arrived but he couldn't make out their faces, they were all blurring together. 

 

"Hey kid, you still with us?"

 

"He's not responding."

 

"That's not good."

 

"Someone fetch Gothi, tell her he needs more of the antidote."

 

"On it."

 

"Here, Astrid, help me carry him back to his room."

 

Suddenly he felt hands grabbing him, taking him under the arms and by the legs, lifting him up. 

 

No. This was bad. He couldn't let them take him.

 

"No!" He squirmed, kicking out weakly with his right foot. He hit something solid and he heard a gasp of surprise.

 

"Stormfly! Hogfly! All of you," He called out weakly, in Dragonese "You have to run…" he was fading fast and could barely get the words out.

 

"Oh dear, grandma!" He heard the Hogfly shout in alarm, though he couldn't tell from where.

 

"What on earth was that!?"

 

"Is he trying to talk or is he choking!?"

 

"Safe Red boy!" He heard Stormfly call to him gently, "Red boy is safe!"

Then everything faded away.

 

 

***

 

 

Red wasn't sure how long he was out. All he knew was that when he woke next, the pain that had been shooting all through his body, while still present, was significantly lessened. He stared up at the wood ceiling, blinking his eyes in amazement. He was still alive. He had to admit, he hadn't been expecting that. 

 

The air was much cooler than before and the gentle fire that had greeted him the first time was little more than cooling embers. It was also much darker in the room. He turned his head to see through the window the soft light of the moon peering over the treetops. It was night. The silence indicating it must be quite late in fact.

 

He turned his attention back to the ceiling. It was an odd quiet he hadn't felt in a long time. The screaming of dragons, the harsh cries of battle, the cacophony of entire forests being turned to ash and mountains being blasted to bits in the distance, all of it gone. 

 

It was peaceful. And he was alive. He was shockingly, miraculously, painfully alive.

 

That left him with several questions. If they didn't want him dead, which for some reason he was fairly certain was unusual these days, then what did they want from him? It was extraordinarily rare for people to want to shelter individuals such as him. Small stringy boys, half dead and of no use to anyone. 

 

It must be information then. Red must've been holding some important information before his entire identity had been beaten out of his head. This was either incredibly good news or depressingly fatal news depending on how you looked at the situation.

 

Red thought harder, pondering the off chance that it wasn't information they needed, though he was having difficulty thinking much else it could be. It certainly wasn't physical labor they needed from him. Though, vikings did take slaves of all kinds…But then again they wouldn’t have gone through such efforts to treat his injuries, they would have just thrown him to their riding dragons to use as feed. His head was still too foggy to think straight but lying here in this bed, the faint notion that perhaps they were just being kind did pop into his head.

 

That was a ridiculous notion, even for the most optimistic of sorts. 

 

"Oh, you're awake," a voice spoke, nearly causing Red to jump up out of the bed in alarm. He looked frantically about the dark room and saw a figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. He heard them yawn and saw the figure stretch as though they too had just woken up. 

 

Red squinted as suddenly the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room. Once his eyes adjusted he could see the figure was a young raven haired woman, she had a kind expression on her face as she held out the light to see him in the darkness.

 

"You were out for a long time, we were almost afraid you wouldn't make it."

 

Red just stared at her, the wheels in his brain trying desperately to turn but repeatedly starting and stopping again, the whirring of the failing gears almost audible in his head. 

 

"My name is Heather," the woman said after a long time had passed and he had failed to say anything at all, "Can you tell me yours?"

 

Another long silence passed.

 

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you, we are friends."

 

"Friends?" The word felt foreign in his mouth as he said it. He wasn't sure why it ached in his chest to say it.

 

It hurt to hope. He wasn't sure if he still could. Hope had been slowly and methodically drained out of him, he felt empty, cold and tired in a way no boy his age should and he was terribly, terribly afraid. But hope was all he had left to keep him sane. Hope, he remembered dimly somewhere in the back of his mind, was the most important thing he had. He couldn't let it go, no matter what. 

 

"Yes," her smile widened, "Friends. You're safe here."

 

Oh it was like a weight had been lifted off of him. It might have been foolish to believe he could trust them, something deep inside of him told him that he shouldn't. But he wanted to, so, so badly. He felt himself sink back in his blankets, tears welling up in his eyes though he could not explain why.

 

"Red," he finally said after a long minute, "Redheart the Clever, but you can just call me Red."

 

"Well, Red it's nice to meet you." He felt bad for lying, but he didn't have any other name to give her.

 

"Where are you from Red," there was an odd placating tone to her voice, like she was speaking to a wild and injured animal, which to be fair she might as well have been.

 

"I-" he cut himself off, he did not know. He just shook his head and looked away, it was a bit difficult to admit that fact.

 

"Where are your parents, I'm sure they're worried sick about you."

 

He felt a deep ache within him as he realized that he didn't know that either. He had no idea who his parents were or where they might be, if they loved him, if they were looking for him. 

 

"I don't know," he finally said.

 

"Oh, well, that's alright.” Heather said, “We can help you look-”

 

“Where am I?” Red interrupted, the remaining pinprick of fear holding out within him. He dreaded the answer. Were they Outcasts, Danger-Brutes, Visithugs? They certainly weren’t Berserks, they lacked the chains and the manic looks in their eyes. They could be Hysterics, he had seen the crazy contraptions rigged all over their outpost, the sort of work that only originated with the insane minds of the Hysteric tribe. 

 

‘Oh Thor,’ he thought to himself miserably, ‘Don’t be Hysterics, please don’t be Hysterics!’.

 

“You’re at Dragon’s Edge, an outpost for the Hooligan Tribe of Berk.” Heather replied. Red nearly fainted with relief. 

 

“Berk?” The name was safe, it was familiar. 

 

“Yes,” Heather smiled at him, “They're nice people, they won’t hurt you.” 

 

He sank back into the bed, his eyes drooping. It was so exhausting, being afraid. Now that his worries had been eased somewhat he was finding it difficult to stay awake, especially with the warmth of the blankets calling him to sleep. 

 

“I can see you’re exhausted, go back to sleep. We can speak more tomorrow.”

 

He didn’t even try to fight his heavy eyelids as they slowly slid shut and he was once again whisked away to blissful darkness.

 

Notes:

Hogfly my beloved. If Book!Toothless reminds me of my wicked bratty little cat (affectionate) then the Hogfly reminds me of my stupid innocent dog.

So we get Book!Hiccup's new identity 'Redheart the Clever'. As he no longer has the Wodensfang to help him out with remembering important things such as his own name, he will have to rely on just his instincts and the Hogfly, who as loveable as he is, is not in fact very reliable.

I decided to let the movie dragons speak dragonese but it is much more limited than the book dragons. I just really wanted Book!Hiccup to be able to speak to some of the dragons who do have a lot of personality, it would be interesting to try and give them a voice.

Their dialect of Dragonese is much simpler as in the books the Wodensfang implies that the thousand year long relantions between humans and dragons is what actually greatly improved and fleshed out dragon capacity for intelligence and language. I would imagine that without that bond with a highly complex social creature like a human, the movie dragons would be much more stunted in their lingual development and would be much more beastlike as they presented in the films.

Chapter 5: A Stranger at the Edge

Summary:

In which Red finally has a chat with Hiccup and several misunderstandings are cleared.

“His name is Redheart the Clever,” Heather’s voice nearly startled Hiccup into dropping the crate of fresh goods he was unloading from the Berkian ship which had arrived earlier in the morning with the food and medicine he had requested in a letter he had sent to his father several weeks ago. It had been a bit much to deliver via dragon so they had to wait on a ship to make the long journey to the edge.

 

“Woah, what?” Hiccup asked, recovering from his shock, Toothless helping him catch his balance and gently pushing him upright again. 

 

“The boy, he woke up last night. We spoke a bit. He seems a bit confused, probably due to that head injury.”

 

“Ah,” Hiccup replied, Heather joining him at his side as he made the short trip down to the freshly repaired storeroom, “I was afraid that would be the case, might be the reason he was trying to steal Stormfly, he was probably just spooked to wake up in a stranger’s bed.”

 

“Yes,” Heather paused for a moment, “Hiccup, he seems a bit more than spooked, terrified is more like it. We need to be careful, keep Ruffnut and Tuffnut away from him for now, they might be a bit much for him. Snotlout too, I’m afraid he might have scared the wits out of him the other day when he grabbed him.”

 

“Ugh, Snotlout, that idiot,” Hiccup shook his head in frustration, “What was he thinking, grabbing an injured and terrified kid like that, of all the things he could have done… we’ll have a much harder time earning his trust now. Did he say where he was from?”

 

“No, he was oddly silent about that. When I asked about his parents, he said he had no idea where they were, and didn't even give an idea as to where they might be,” she sighed, “Like I said, he seemed confused and he didn’t say much. We can ask him more today. He seemed fairly lucid and I think he might be well enough to talk to now.”

 

She opened the door for him and Hiccup sat the crate down heavily on the storeroom floor. He stood up, clapping his hands together and rolling his shoulders, relieved to be free from the heavy cargo. He turned to Toothless who was looking up expectantly at him, his green eyes wide with curiosity, waiting for Hiccup to say the word. He had been eager to meet the strange boy who had been introduced to their home, Hiccup had caught him sniffing around outside the boy’s room, peering in through the window to try and get a look at him. 

 

Hiccup had kept him from Red so far, afraid that the sudden appearance of a Night Fury might terrify the poor kid more so than he already was. But they might as well get it out of the way, introducing Toothless now when he was in a good mood and the boy was more lucid seemed like the best time so far. He already had shown a familiarity with dragons when he’d tried to make off with Stormfly so hopefully the meeting with Toothless would go fairly smoothly.

 

“So what do you say bud, shall we go meet this mysterious Redheart the Clever?”

 

Toothless jumped up in excitement, twirling around in a circle to let out his enthusiasm before sitting to attention at Hiccup’s feet. Hiccup let out a laugh, watching as Toothless’ hopeful eyes kept darting to the door and back to him.

 

“Alright, alright, let’s go, Snotlout and Astrid can handle unloading the rest.” He called out to said companions, letting them know where he was going before following Heather out of the storeroom and up the fort to where Red was resting. Toothless kept pace with him, even bounding ahead several paces and flicking his tail impatiently as he waited for the much slower humans to catch up with him.

 

“I haven’t seen him this excited in a while,” Heather laughed, watching the impatient dragon bounding up the stairs and looking eagerly down at them as he waited.

 

“Yeah, well, he’s been waiting for weeks now. I’m surprised he isn’t even more agitated.”

 

They finally reached the small hut where the boy had been sleeping the past week or so. Heather reached up and pushed the door open, doing her best not to make any loud or sudden moves. 

 

It didn’t matter. The boy, who had been looking down at his inflamed and scarred arm with his brow furrowed, snapped his head up to look at the newcomers and flinched back, pulling his blankets tighter around him. His wild blue eyes flicked back and forth between them and he stared at them unblinking. He pursed his lips, looking as though he would bolt at any moment, a small nervous tick dancing in one of his eyes. 

 

Heather really hadn’t been exaggerating. 

 

Oh boy, this would be harder than Hiccup thought. 

 

“Hi Red,” Heather said in her most gentle voice, holding up her hands to show she meant no harm as she approached, “Remember me?”

 

“Heather?” He said after a moment, his voice was raspy and cracked a bit, though it was difficult to tell if that was due to disuse or puberty. 

 

“Yes, it’s me,” she smiled, “I’m here to check on you, see how you’re feeling.”

 

“I’ve been better,” he said after a moment, “My head hurts and I can’t feel my arm…” he paused after an even longer moment, “And I’m hungry too, if I could maybe get some food?” he said this last bit tentatively, as though he weren’t expecting that they might actually feed him.

 

“Of course, I can fetch you some lunch in a minute. You’re in luck too, we just got some fresh supplies from Berk.”

 

“Thank you,” he paused again, “Might I please get something to drink as well?”

 

“Sure, I’ll fetch you some water as well.”

 

 The boy gave a small, hesitant smile. The first either of them had seen. 

 

“Where’s Hogfly?” He spoke so quietly that they both had difficulty hearing him.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Where’s the Hogfly,” he swallowed nervously before continuing, “He’s the little pink dragon with the curly tail? I know he’s a bit annoying and stupid and can cause trouble but he wouldn’t hurt a fly and he’s a very loyal and good dragon. He just wants to be helpful so-”

 

“He’s alright,” Hiccup interjected, holding up a placating hand to stop the boy’s nervous babbling, “He’s down with the other dragons by the stables. You don’t have to worry, we wouldn’t hurt him.”

 

“Oh.” Red paused, processing this, “Oh, thank you. I’m glad to hear he’s alright.” It looked like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest and he seemed to sag slightly in relief. 

 

“My name is Hiccup, by the way,” Hiccup continued, feeling Toothless nudging him impatiently from behind the partially closed door that was keeping him from the boy’s view, “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

 

“I’m Redheart the Clever, but you can call me Red.” 

 

Just then, Toothless gave Hiccup another forceful shove, nearly knocking Hiccup over and pushing his head through the open door, peeking curiously out into the room. Hiccup quickly caught his balance then turned to glare at the stubborn dragon. “Be patient Toothless, you don’t want to scare him do you!?”

 

But it was too late, Red’s eyes had snapped onto the black dragon and he was staring at him with an expression of awe and surprise on his face, as well as a bit of apprehension and wariness, though those emotions seemed to be permanently carved into the boy’s young features. 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Hiccup said, holding one hand up placatingly and using the other to prevent Toothless from fully pushing his way inside the building. The Dragon let out an irritated growl but stood down, pouting somewhat as he did so. 

 

“He’s harmless, I promise, just a little overexcited!”

 

“That’s your dragon?” the boy breathed, wide-eyed. 

 

“Yep! Trained him myself, I promise he won’t hurt you, he’s quite friendly!” His fear and amazement were to be expected. Night Furies were notoriously one of the most feared and awesome dragons known to the archipelago, legends were told of its ferocity and its power. It even had the legendary status described as being ‘the offspring of lightning and death itself’. For an already scared and jittery boy like Red, it must certainly be a lot to take in. Yes, this was all to be expected. 

 

What Hiccup did not expect were the next words out of the boy’s mouth.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like it, what species is it?” 

 

Now that caught him off guard. As previously established, Night Furies were one of the most feared and notorious dragons in the Archipelago. 

 

“Um, he’s a Night Fury,” Hiccup said, perhaps the boy just hadn’t recognized it. Few had seen a Night Fury up close and personal, perhaps he just hadn’t ever seen one and had only heard rumors about it. But no, the boy’s face remained blank, not a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

 

“A Night Fury,” he mouthed, his gaze never once leaving the dragon, “What’s his name?”

 

“Toothless.”

 

Now there was recognition in Red’s eyes. For the first time he glanced away from Toothless and up at Hiccup with surprised befuddlement. 

 

“What?”

 

“His name is Toothless,” Hiccup smiled, shaking off his confusion at the boy’s lack of response to seeing a living Night Fury before him, “He has retractable teeth, though I didn’t know that at first so I really thought he was just a toothless dragon, the name sort of stuck.” He shrugged, affectionately patting the Night Fury’s smooth head.

 

“That’s…” Red paused for a moment, true confusion and distress in his eyes before he shook it off, “Alright then.”

 

“Is something wrong?” Heather asked, looking concerned.

 

“No, it’s just…” he trailed off again, “Sorry, my head, I can’t…” he put a hand to his bandaged forehead, wincing in pain. 

 

“Oh should I go fetch Gothi, she’s the medicine woman who’s been treating you.”

 

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Red cleared his throat, “It’s just…” 

 

He trailed off again, once again turning his attention to Toothless.

 

“Can I…” he reached out a hand tentatively.

 

“Of course,” Hiccup said, immediately cheered by the boy’s curiosity towards his dragon, “Be gentle Toothless, he’s hurt.”

 

Hiccup stepped aside, fully allowing the Night Fury into the room. Toothless walked slowly up to Red’s bedside, seeing the boy’s nervousness and doing his best to come across as non-threatening. Hiccup watched as the two made eye contact and the boy’s eyes widened further still. He reached out his trembling hand and gently placed it on the dragon’s nose and Toothless leaned into the touch, letting out a gentle purring sound of acceptance. Hiccup couldn’t help but smile, it was always touching to watch a connection form between human and dragon. 

 

Then the boy leant forward, ever so slightly, and murmured something to the dragon that Hiccup couldn’t quite make out. Toothless looked surprised, pulling away for a moment before jumping up with excitement. He pulled back his lips to reveal his signature toothless grin. He let out a strange series of garbles looking to Red and then to Hiccup and then back to the boy.

 

Red laughed softly before muttering something else. Toothless spun in a circle, practically ecstatic, hopping up and down several times and bounding over to Hiccup and putting his paws up on his chest, nearly knocking him over and staring at him with wide happy eyes. His gaze flicked back and forth between him and Red again. 

 

“Woah, bud, what’s got you so excited,” Hiccup laughed, surprised at the sudden outburst. Toothless garbled at him, and Hiccup could only stare at him in complete bewilderment. The dragon seemed a little disappointed at his lack of a response and then bounded back to Red’s side where he again spun in a circle before making another strange series of garbling noises. 

 

“What on earth did you say to him?” 

 

“Oh I was just asking him if you were a good rider,” Red shrugged, looking a bit sheepish, his face turning a bit red, “I think I got my answer.”

 

“I’ve never seen him behave like that,” Hiccup said, baffled, “He must really like you!”

 

“I guess,” Red shrugged, and then winced as that had been a bit much for his injured body, “I’m nothing special. Dragons just like when you listen to them.”

 

An interesting statement. Hiccup would unpack that later.

 

“So, Red,” Hiccup said, clearing his throat, “I hate to pressure you but I do have some questions I was hoping you could answer.”

 

“Oh.” The boy’s face fell.

 

“If it’s too much, you don’t have to answer them,” Hiccup clarified, “It’s alright, take your time, you can tell us when you’re ready.”

 

The boy just nodded unenthusiastically.

 

“Where are you from?” Red just stared at him blankly, his lips pulling ever so slightly into a frown. Hiccup waited for several moments, but the boy did not answer. 

 

‘Great,’ he thought to himself, ‘we’re off to a great start already’.

 

“Okay, do you know where your parents are, do you know how to contact them?”

 

More silence.

 

“How did you get caught in that storm?”

 

Yet more silence. Red’s face flickered slightly but didn’t betray anything at all. 

 

Hiccup tried to remain patient. It wasn’t the boy’s fault exactly, he still didn’t trust them and that was okay. He just had to keep patient and ask the right questions. Perhaps if he stayed away from his past and tried to stick to his present, ask about his time at the Edge. 

 

“Why did you try to take Stormfly?”

 

The boy tensed at this.

 

 “I’m sorry,” he said, finally breaking his silence, “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

 

“We know,” Heather quickly interjected, “You’re not in any trouble, we just want to know why you were doing it.”

 

“I just…” Red trailed off for a moment, brows furrowed, “There was somewhere I needed to go- I still need to go.”

 

“And where is that?” Hiccup asked. 

 

“I-” the boy cut himself off, his lips trembling as he pressed them together. He squeezed his eyes shut for several moments before looking up at him and Hiccup was surprised to see tears there. 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

His words were so quiet, Hiccup almost missed them entirely. The boy pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them so that he was curled into a little ball as he began to cry.

 

“I don’t know!” he said louder this time, his voice shaking, “I don’t remember, I don’t remember anything! Red isn’t even my name! I just made it up so I had something to call myself! I don’t know who I am or where I’m from or who my parents are. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing! I just know I’m supposed to be doing something, and it’s so so important but I don’t know what!”

 

Hiccup and Heather just stared in stunned silence at him for several moments as the boy cried softly to himself. Toothless’ eyes were wide and empathetic. He was the first to act, letting out a gentle purring sound as he nuzzled the boy softly, doing his best to offer comfort to the distressed kid. 

 

“Hey,” Hiccup said after a moment, “Hey, it’s okay,” he stepped forward slowly, kneeling down next to Toothless and gently placing a hand on Red's shoulder. The boy slowly looked up at him, his face a mess with tears and snot and still horribly swollen and bruised. 

 

“You’ve been through a lot, it’s no wonder you can’t remember anything. I’ve seen this sort of thing before and it isn’t permanent. You’ll remember who you are again, I promise, we can help you if you’d like.”

 

“Y-you will?” 

 

“Hiccup is right, Red,” Heather began approaching his bedside as well to join them, “I may not know exactly what you’re going through right now, but I too have lost a lot and remember what it felt like to be entirely alone in the world with no one to turn to. We won’t let you feel that way, you can count on us. We will get you through this and get you home and back to your family.”

 

Red paused for several moments looking between them, gently rubbing away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“What?” Heather and Hiccup said together in unison.

 

“Why do you want to help me of all people,” Red said, seeming genuinely confused, “I’m useless, I’m… I’m a runt!”

 

“Hey, don’t say things like that about yourself,” Heather answered frowning, “Nobody’s useless, and even if they were, they would still deserve help. It’s the right thing to help those in need.”

 

“Yeah, and Toothless likes you, so that’s good enough for me,” Hiccup smiled. 

 

Red was silent.

 

“Thank you,” he finally said, “You’re good people.”

 

He leaned back in his bed, his eyes drooping somewhat. It seemed the conversation and the outburst of emotion it had caused had worn him out. 

 

“We can see you’re exhausted,” Heather said, getting to her feet again, “We’ll leave you to rest. I’ll go on and fetch you that meal and then we can talk more tomorrow.”

 

“Alright then, if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll have someone checking in on you every hour so feel free to reach out to them if you have any requests or need any help.”

 

They turned to leave but they were stopped by the boy’s sudden cry of “Wait!”

 

“What is it?” Hiccup asked, turning back to look at him.

 

“I um…” he turned a bit red and looked away, “Do you mind if Toothless stays with me for a bit?” 

Hiccup turned to the black dragon who looked thoroughly pleased to be of help to the injured boy.

 

“What do you say, bud? Mind keeping Red company for a bit?”

 

Toothless let out an agreeable whuffle, placing his head across Red’s legs and purring as he closed his eyes. The boy smiled and ran his hands gently along the dragon’s head, leaning back contentedly, comforted by the Night Fury’s presence. It was truly strange, it was rare to see individuals beyond Berk so at ease with dragons, but it almost seemed that this boy was more comfortable in the presence of dragons than he was in the company of humans.

 

“Well, it looks like you have your answer,” Hiccup chuckled.

 

“Thank you.” Red replied. 

 

“We’ll talk again tomorrow, rest well. We hope you are feeling better soon.”

 

With that they closed the door and stepped outside. 

 

“Well,” Hiccup breathed, once they were out of earshot, “That was certainly… something.”

 

“He seemed much better than the other night,” Heather replied, “I had my suspicions about his inability to answer my questions, but I had no idea he’d lost his entire memory, the poor boy…”

 

“I’ve asked several passing merchants if they’d heard about a missing boy, or if they knew anything about the black star or the lobster claws, but I’ve gotten no leads.” 

 

“Do you think your father’d know anything?” Heather asked after a long moment, “After all, it was thanks to him that we learned who my real father was.. And who my brother is.” She said this last part a bit bitterly, and Hiccup couldn’t blame her. Dagur had been calling him brother for many years now and it had always left a terrible taste in Hiccup’s mouth, he couldn’t imagine what it was like to find out he was actually your brother.

 

“I don’t know,” Hiccup sighed, “My father does know quite a bit about the customs of neighboring tribes and the peoples of the mainland, but it’s a bit of a stab in the dark at best.”

 

“Well, it's a start.”

 

They were silent for several moments.

 

“Hiccup…” Heather began, something about her tone of voice caused him to pause. 

 

“What is it Heather?”

 

 “I know that we promised to help him get his memory back, and I know that’s what he wants,” she paused for another moment, “It's just… are we sure that getting his memory back is really the best thing for him?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean,” she sighed, “You saw the state that he was in, the scars all over his body, the bruises, the burns. It’s awful Hiccup, it's really awful. Whatever his life was like, it can’t have been happy. Maybe this is his chance to get a fresh start, we can take him back to Berk and find someone who will raise him there. I was adopted myself, and it can be just as fulfilling a relationship as any other. He already shows a great skill in dragon handling, he could make a wonderful dragon rider one day if he wanted to. And no one would hurt him anymore…”

 

“You think so? But what about his real parents?”

 

“Look, the way he was talking… he called himself ‘useless’ and ‘a runt’,” Heather said, leaning in closer, quieting her voice somewhat as if unwilling to say it again, “I get the feeling that whoever was looking out for him the first time, they weren’t exactly doing a great job of it. Even without memories, he seems to have these names ingrained deeply into him, more so than his actual name. That can’t be a good sign.”

 

“I see what you’re saying Heather,” Hiccup folded his arms, looking down at the ground as he thought, “You may be right. But I’ve already given my word that we’ll help him.”

 

They were both silent for another moment.

 

“Listen, we’ll do our best to help him recover his memories, but if it starts causing him distress or we learn anything… worrying about his situation, then we’ll go with your plan. We’ll find him a nice home on Berk and we’ll make sure that his past doesn’t come for him. Alright?”

 

“I suppose that’s all we really can do,” Heather replied, and the two of them continued in silence down the path to the clubhouse in the center of the Edge.

 

***

 

I’m certain you readers are keen to hear what it was Red said to Toothless that excited him so. Well, I’m disappointed to say, but Red was not lying when he told Hiccup that it wasn’t anything particularly interesting. But you see, it is so very rare that dragons find a human who can speak their tongue that it was only natural that Toothless be so giddy to finally be understood after all this time living alongside humans. 

 

Their conversation went a little something like this:

 

“Hello Toothless, I’m very pleased to meet you, I hope you are doing well,” Red’s dialect of Dragonese was, of course, a bit complicated for Toothless, but the message was conveyed clearly enough, and the sound of the sacred tongue being spoken by a strange broken boy was enough to catch the fearsome dragon a little off guard. 

 

He blinked several times in bewilderment, letting the revelation sink in before he jumped up in surprise and excitement. He couldn’t help the wide grin that fell across his features as he looked at the boy, then to his Hiccup, then back to the boy.

 

“Greenblood! You speak Greenblood!? No human worms speak greenblood!”

 

The boy merely laughed for a moment, clearly enjoying the dragon’s excitement.

 

“Yes, Toothless, I speak Dragonese,” The boy paused for a moment before continuing, “Do you mind if I asked you a question? Your human rider, Hiccup, is he good to you? He seems a good sort, and you look well cared for, but I know many would abuse their dragons.”

 

Toothless was hardly paying attention to what Red had to say, he was still reveling in the fact that the boy could really and truly understand him. That he could answer him in his own tongue. He was so excited that he began hopping up and down, spinning about before he ran to his Hiccup and put his paws up on his chest, staring deeply into his eyes. 

 

Was he dreaming? Was it possible that his Hiccup could speak to him as well? If this broken little reedy boy could do it, then surely his rider could as well. There was very little his Hiccup could not do. He was a wonderful human, his Hiccup.

 

He waited expectantly for Hiccup to speak to him, to hear the wonderful words of his kind spoken to him in the voice of the boy he loved so dearly. He was unfortunately met only with the usual crude Lumpentongue that the humans spoke. 

 

“Hiccup, Hiccup! Speak Greenblood!?” He asked hopefully, but his human just stared back at him blankly, clearly unable to understand a word he had just said. 

 

Disappointed but not surprised, Toothless returned to the Red boy and, still quite excited by this whole situation, he spun around one more time before finally answering him.

 

“Hiccup very good human. Very smart, very stupid too. Very kind.”

 

And so that is how the first conversation Toothless had ever had with a human being went. It wasn’t a very complex or philosophical conversation, in fact most of it was just pure gibbering nonsense on the part of Toothless who was so over excited he nearly forgot himself entirely and he might as well have forgotten his own language. But it brought great joy to the dragon. He had lived a long time with humans, and while they had learned to communicate on some level with one another, he had never spoken to one before, and that meant the world to him. 

 

The second conversation between Red and Toothless, however, was a bit more somber. 

 

“Toothless,” the weedy boy began, soon after his Hiccup and Heather had left the room, “Your name seems familiar to me, have we met before?”

 

The dragon looked up at him. He examined his swollen and scarred face, red from all the crying he had done before. Toothless tried to picture what that face would look like if it wasn’t red and purple and disfigured by bruises. He would go so far as to say he imagined he looked a bit like his Hiccup when he was younger, just a bit. They had similar pale complexions, freckled and ordinary faces that were easy to overlook in a crowd. But the similarities stopped there. 

 

For one, this boy’s eyes were a light baby blue, unlike the green of his own Hiccup’s eyes. Then there was his hair, which was a shockingly bright red and stuck up in tufts around his head in a wild and heroic manner. His own Hiccup had been quite small when he was younger, but he had grown considerably when he had reached manhood, sprouting like a weed, and though he was still a bit on the thin side, he was much more the respectable Viking heir that Stoick had always wanted. This boy on the other hand was so small and frail and gangly that Toothless didn’t think he really had a chance of making it to manhood to begin with, especially not in the state that he was in now.

 

“No Red boy,” Toothless finally said after several moments of thought, “Your face not familiar.”

 

“Hmm, but it is so strange,” Red continued, “You and the others, Hiccup, Fishlegs, Stormfly… Snotlout… Your names are so familiar to me. It’s like a dim memory from a long forgotten dream. I know it from somewhere, I just cannot put my finger on it.”

 

“Sorry Red boy, I wish I could help, but I know not your face,” Toothless pondered a bit longer, “Hiccup famous among human race, perhaps you know through stories?”

 

“Perhaps…” Red didn’t seem to think this was the case, “I don’t know Toothless, it’s all rather strange to me. The things I know, and the things I can’t remember. It feels as though the gods were playing a cruel trick on me. Is this Loki’s doing? Something is wrong, but I’m not sure what. Perhaps I have been cursed?”

 

“Human words and human problems,” Toothless shrugged, “Toothless knows not of gods and curses. Hunting, flying, dreaming, this is what dragons know.”

 

“I see,” Red sighed, “I should have expected as much, you dragons are far older than us, you are beyond such things. You are wilder, you are more free. There are times when I wished that I too were a dragon.”

 

“You would be very small, very funny dragon.”

 

Red laughed.

 

“I know, I’m already a very small and very funny viking.” Red sighed, “But I’ve learned never to underestimate the little things of this world.”

 

Toothless was silent. That was wise indeed. Hiccup had been quite a small human when they met. Toothless would never have believed the things that little human had accomplished had he not been there to see it for himself. To be fair though, Hiccup did have his help, and it had to be said, the little Hiccup would not have gotten very far without him. 

 

“Do you know of Ziggerastica, Toothless?”

 

Toothless cocked his head. Now that was a funny name. He had never heard anything like it before.

 

“The Most High and Mighty Ruler of the Nano Empire, The Despot of the Northern Grasses?”

 

Toothless just shook his head, that sounded like a bunch of nonsense to him.

 

“Hmm, his name came to me just now. He’s the God Emperor of the Nano Dragons, he commands armies in the hundreds of thousands, all of his soldiers no bigger than a fingernail. But it was through his power that the Roman Empire was purged from the archipelago.”

 

“Now you’re telling tales,” Toothless said unbelievingly.

 

“No, I don’t believe I am,” Red smiled, “I don’t know how I know it, but I believe this to be true. The mighty Ziggerastica the Living God. He is the center of the universe you know.”

 

“Sleep Red boy, you speak nonsense.”

 

“Perhaps…” Red was grinning like a fool, “Perhaps not. Maybe I’ve gone mad. That would certainly explain all of this.”

 

“Yes it would, now sleep.”

 

“Alright Toothless.”

 

“Goodnight Red boy.”

 

 “Goodnight.”

 

Notes:

Finally, the Hiccups have met for real this time. And Toothless! Much sweeter and friendlier than his book counterpart lol.

Also, shout out to Book!Stoick and Valhallarama's D- parenting skills. Like they love him, no doubt about that, but omg they are actually the worst lmao.

I re-read book 12 recently and there is literally a passage describing how when Hiccup was like 10 he got kidnapped by an enemy tribe, and when he finally got word out to his mom asking for her to save him she literally said no and to suck it up and escape on his own- and he did! No one came to save him! Not even Stoick I guess? They just left him to starve? Not to mention the time in book 10 when she straight up tried to kill him lmao. And in Book 9 Stoick goes into a bloodlust and tries to kill Hiccup too... Literally the list goes on.

I know Valka and Movie!Stoick weren't always the greatest parents either but honestly their book counterparts are next level bad.

Anyways...

We are now starting to catch up to what I have written so far. I have a few chapters outlined that I'm still editing and working through, so updates will be slower from now on. Sorry to burden you with such unfortunate news.

Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it so far. If you have any thoughts or suggestions let me know, I'm perfectly willing to incorporate any ideas you guys might have for future interactions!

Chapter 6: Whoever Heard of a Viking Who Couldn't Sing?

Summary:

Red gets to know the rest of the Riders as a mysterious egg hatches unleashing a whole new string of problems on the Edge.

Notes:

Hello again everyone, thanks to all of you for your kind words of praise! Sorry for the near 2 month wait, I did not intend to make you all wait that long. But it seems I have attracted an actual audience and as a result I have developed a case of authorial stagefright and my perfectionistic tendencies have gotten the better of me. In short, I'm a bit nervous now lol. I hope I can manage to meet all your expectations. As an apology for the longish wait I will be releasing 2 chapters.

It took another three days of rest before Red the Clever had recovered enough from his injuries to leave his room and meet the team. He had already become quite acquainted with Heather and Fishlegs who each took turns tending to him. Gothi had returned on a supply ship back to Berk with strict instructions to contact her again should the bruising reappear, so it had been up to them to make sure he continued healing properly and to change his bandages and keep track of his medications. 

 

The boy had occasionally caught glimpses of Astrid as well who brought him meals from time to time if the others were busy. Other than that, he had been mostly kept in the dark about the other team mates on Hiccup’s orders. However, now that he seemed to be growing accustomed to the new environment and he was no longer so ill that he might collapse at any given moment, Hiccup was ready to let him wander freely. 

 

He had invited him to join them at breakfast that morning if he was feeling up to it. Red had said he might come down, but he had not shown. Hiccup had waited a while before deciding to send Heather to him with some food and the message that he was welcome to join them at the clubhouse at any time.

 

It was time then that they moved on to business. 

 

“Well, it’s definitely not a Changewing,” Hiccup was saying, flipping through the book of dragons as he examined the egg they had saved the other night from the clutches of the Dragon Hunter forces. Heather had stayed behind that day in order to keep an eye on Red, but he felt comfortable returning the others to business as usual. It had been their first operation in over a week as they focused on repairing the Edge.

 

“And it’s not the type of any of our dragons.”

 

“Oh can you imagine Meatlug with her very own egg? That would be so cute!” Fishlegs exclaimed, hugging the Gronkle affectionately. 

 

“I don’t think it’s in here, Fishlegs.”

 

“Well, somebody certainly has their own ideas on what they think it is,” Tuffnut exclaimed, watching as his pet, Chicken, perched upon the egg like it was one of her own.

 

“Look who's feeling motherly, aren’t you little Chicken!” he gushed, holding out a finger, “Give me a little kiss!” Only to yelp with pain as the little bird pecked it hard.

 

“Ow! Easy pal I’m on your side!” he exclaimed in annoyance.

 

Fishlegs only laughed, “If you’re thinking of hatching that egg, I think you’re going to need a little more power than that, Chicken. But it was a nice try.” 

 

“Don’t listen to him Chicken. Haters gonna hate, hatchers gonna hatch, and buddy you’re a-hatchin’.”

 

“What’s going on?” A new voice asked.

 

They all looked up to see none other than Red, shyly peering around the corner of the entrance. He was still bandaged and a bit worse for wear, but overall he was much improved from the corpse he had been when he’d first arrived. The purple was all but gone from his skin and the swelling had gone down tremendously so that they could actually pick apart what he was supposed to look like. He was still limping, but he seemed much stronger on his feet and best of all, he didn’t look like he might drop dead at any second. 

 

“Red!” Hiccup exclaimed enthusiastically, “I’m so glad you finally joined us! Come here, you’ll like this,” he gestured for the boy to join them and hesitantly he stepped forward, looking around him like he was expecting at any moment something to leap out of the shadows and attack him.

 

“Oh so this is the weird Red kid I keep hearing you guys talk about,” Tuffnut said as he watched the skittish boy approach, “Hey kid! Did anyone tell you your head’s on fire?”

 

“Oh dear, is it?!” The boy’s eyes went wide and he reached up patting his head frantically before realizing that it wasn’t, a confused expression on his face as he slowly lowered his arms.

 

“Ignore him,” Fishlegs said, “He’s just teasing you for your red hair.” 

 

“Oh.” Red’s cheeks matched his name. 

 

“Don’t mess with him Tuff, he’s been through a lot.”

 

“I’ll mess with who I want when I want. You have no dominion over me.”

 

“Ignore that idiot,” Hiccup said, waving Tuffnut away, “Come take a look at this.”

 

“Is that a dragon egg?” Red asked, leaning over the large egg and examining it with wide eyes.

 

“Sure is,” Fishlegs said excitedly, “No idea what species it belongs to! We saved it from Dragon Hunters the other night!”

 

“Dragon Hunters?” 

 

“Ah yes,” Hiccup cleared his throat awkwardly, “While we believe dragons should be treated humanely and with respect, there are others in these parts who… do not share our convictions. We’ve been in conflict with these groups for some time now. We do our best to save what dragons we can from their traps and to prevent them from expanding their territory if we can help it.”

 

“I see,” Red’s expression was unreadable, he just kept staring at the egg in fascination, “So you said you have no idea what species it is?”

 

“None whatsoever.”

 

“Well, I think you’re about to find out.”

 

“What?” Fishlegs and Hiccup exclaimed.

 

They all gathered around the large egg, which they could now see was covered in little cracks that were running across the surface of the shell. The cracks were growing as they watched, spreading across the egg rapidly and showing no signs of stopping. 

 

“It kind of makes you wonder what came first, the chicken or the chicken.”

 

“The chicken, I would presume,” Red said, not looking away from the hatching egg. 

 

Tuffnut did not get a chance to respond. They all flinched away as suddenly the eggshell burst apart with great force, sending pieces flying all across the room. They each looked up to see a small golden dragon sitting in the remnants of its egg, blinking its large eyes sleepily and looking around the room with curiosity.

 

“What is it?” Fishlegs asked.

 

“It’s familiar but I can’t place it,” Hiccup replied, examining the creature, struggling to put his finger on just where he had seen it before. 

 

They didn’t get a chance to contemplate any further as at that moment, the small dragon threw its head back and began to wail. Everyone immediately threw their hands over their ears at the terrible noise, wincing as it seemed to pierce their eardrums with a new kind of pain.

 

“I think I liked it better when it was inside the egg,” Fishlegs commented. 

 

They all seemed to agree. 

 

It wasn’t long before the non-stop shrieking of the little dragon brought the attention of the other dragon riders and one by one, they all approached the source of the disturbance. 

 

“What on earth is that racket!” Yelled Snotlout as he reached the top of the stairs and joined the group already doing their best to soothe the screaming dragon.

 

“It’s the hatchling!” Fishlegs shouted back, “He won’t stop crying, we don't know why!”

 

“It probably wants its mother,” Heather suggested, she had joined them just moments ago and she was giving the little creature a sympathetic look, “Poor thing!”

 

“Maybe he just wants a name!” Tuffnut added.

 

“A name?” 

 

“Dragon’s do not care about names, that is a human convention,” Red replied, he had run to the furthest corner of the room from the thing and was wincing terribly, the noise probably not doing much for his aching head.

 

“Garffiljorg!” Tuffnut said, ignoring Red’s sage advice, “The perfect name!”

 

“Who cares!” Ruffnut yelled, “That Red kid is right, dragon’s don’t care about names!”

 

“Chicken cares,” Tuffnut replied stubbornly, “I mean it did come out of her.”

 

“Tuffnut, she didn’t actually…” Hiccup began but then trailed off as he saw the expression on Tuffnut’s face, “Never mind,” he sighed instead.

 

“I’m certain there’s something that it wants,” Red said, “If it’s like a human infant then it must need something that we’re not giving it.”

 

“Like…?” Snotlout responded and Red flinched slightly at the hostility in his tone.

 

“Food maybe?” Red shrugged, “Most baby dragons feed like birds, someone will need to chew up his food for him and then-”

 

“Oh gods above, that is absolutely disgusting,” Astrid cut him off.

 

“Yeah,” Ruffnut said, “Absolutely disgusting. I’ll do it!” 

 

“What, hey!” Tuffnut jumped to his feet, “No fair! I wanted to do it!”

 

“We can just have one of our dragons do that,” Hiccup said, “I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

 

Red’s plan actually seemed to work. Once the baby had been fed it seemed to fall silent.

 

Well Red’s plan seemed to work for all of about ten minutes before the baby dragon began to wail again, perhaps louder than before. But it was a blissful ten minutes of peace so that did have to be congratulated. 

 

“Gods, why is that thing so annoying!” Snotlout exclaimed. 

 

“Oh hush, you all are being so mean, it’s just a baby it can’t help itself,” Heather said, stepping forward and picking the small dragon up off of the ground and cradling it gently in her arms. 

 

“Yeah exactly,” Snotlout said, completely flipping his stance, “I can’t believe you all would be so cruel to a baby! For shame!”

But Heather wasn’t listening to him, instead she had begun gently rocking the baby in her arms and humming softly to herself. Slowly, the baby’s cry began to gently peter out and it looked up at her with big wide eyes as she began to sing:

 

“The sky is dark, and the hills are white,

As the Storm King speeds from the north tonight.

And this is the song that the Storm King sings,

As over the world his cloak he flings.

 

Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep,

He rustles his wings and gruffly sings,

Sleep, little one, sleep…”

 

They all stared in astonishment as before their eyes, the little dragon closed its eyes and fell dead asleep. 

 

“Heather, that was beautiful,” Fishlegs said, a small tear in his eye as he joined her side. 

 

“That was just beautiful Heather,” Snotlout mocked from across the room, folding his arms and looking away. Then his eyes caught sight of Red, as if for the first time. 

 

“You!” he shouted and was immediately shushed by everyone in the room, “You!” He hissed again, much quieter this time, “You’re the dragon thief!” 

 

“He’s not a dragon thief Snotlout,” Hiccup rolled his eyes, “We’ve been over this, he was just scared and confused, he didn’t know what he was doing.”

 

“Oh yeah? He seemed plenty aware to me,” Snotlout glared at Red, who flinched back, “He threatened to sacrifice me to the Sky dragons, whatever that means.”

 

“He did what?” Fishlegs looked over to the nervous boy who was looking a tad sheepish now.

 

“That was just…” Hiccup began, then paused, “Yeah, Red, what was that about?”

 

“Oh um…” Red began looking back and forth between all of them, “It’s just, the barbaric code and um… do people around here not sacrifice people to the sky dragons?”

 

They all just stared at him in stunned silence.

 

“Do you sacrifice people to sky dragons?” Hiccup asked, mildly disturbed and not entirely certain he wanted an answer to that question. 

 

“Well,” the boy swallowed, “No, I don’t think so, that’s a bit of an older tradition only the more vicious tribes still practice.”

 

They just continued staring at him.

 

“Um… yeah, most tribes phased it out I believe,” he laughed nervously, “But it’s still written as a potential punishment in the barbaric code, so if we really wanted to, we could…”

 

Another long silence.

 

“Sick,” Tuffnut finally said, “What does one have to do to get sacrificed?”

 

“Well, it can be anything really, Grimbeard the Ghastly once sacrificed the chief of the Murderous tribe because he lost against him in the swimming race, so, anything goes really… It’s up to the chiefs…”

 

“Alright Hiccup, you gotta get in a word with your dad,” Tuffnut continued, “I cannot pass up an opportunity like this.”

 

“No one is getting sacrificed,” Hiccup said and Tuffnut groaned.

 

“Oh come on!”

 

“Guess that means I can’t be the one to sacrifice him,” Ruffnut huffed.

 

“Wait let me get this straight,” Fishlegs continued, seemingly and for good reason, a bit hung up on the whole human sacrifice bit, “The Murderous Chief was sacrificed because he lost a swimming race?”

 

“Yep,” Red popped the p, bouncing awkwardly on his toes looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. 

 

“Wait, I’m sorry Red,” Hiccup shook his head, still trying to process all this, “Who are the Murderous, and why haven’t I ever heard of them?”

 

“The Murderous Tribe, from the Murderous Mountains in the Western Archipelago,” Now it was Red’s turn to look confused, “You haven’t heard of them? The chief is Madguts the Murderous, a rather terrifying man, he never speaks.”

 

“He must live on an island further west than we’ve explored,” Hiccup said, glancing around the room at the blank faces who seemed just as lost as he was. Red just shrugged, he was just as puzzled. Wherever the boy was from, the storm must have washed him a long long distance. 

 

“No matter,” Hiccup shook his head, ready to change the subject back to the matter at hand, “The dragon is clearly soothed with song which…” he trailed off for a moment before realization lit up his face.

 

“Fishlegs!” he suddenly exclaimed, “What dragon do we know utilizes song for hunting and communication?”

 

“A Deathsong…” Fishlegs put the pieces together, “Of course, why didn’t we think of that sooner?” then he paled, “Oh this is bad, Deathsongs are incredibly dangerous! You don’t think we can train one do you?”

 

“Well why not?” Hiccup shrugged, “It’s worth a try, and besides, it's far too small to cause any real harm. Him being young gives us an advantage anyway, he should be quite impressionable, and who knows, maybe it's imprinted.”

 

“Excuse me Heather,” Red politely interrupted the conversation, “You wouldn’t mind if I held him for a second would you?” 

 

“Of course,” Heather passed the small dragon over to the boy, who even against the infant dragon was comically small, “Just be careful not to wake him.”

 

“Amazing,” breathed Red as he held the baby in his arms, “I really have never seen anything like him, what did you call him, a Deathsong?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Hmm, interesting patterning on the scales,” the boy muttered to himself, “I wonder if this has to do with mesmerizing one's prey, or perhaps scaring away predators as butterflies do with their wings… very beautiful…”

 

As he looked over the dragon, the infant shifted in his grip and let out a tiny little wail.

 

“Oh no, not again!”

 

“Sing Heather!” 

 

Heather opened her mouth to sing, but before she could, she was interrupted by another voice. It was Red. His voice had been soft and raspy before, cracking occasionally with the beginning stages of puberty as his voice was caught between youth and adulthood. None of them had expected the beautiful notes to ring out just as clearly as Heather’s had just moments before. Though the song that the boy sang was a much different, much more ominous song.

 

“I tell the mighty big blue whale

His life is over soon,

With one swish of my armored tail

I put out the sun and moon.

 

The winds and gales are quivering

As I begin to roar,

The waves themselves are shivering

And trembling back to shore.

 

Once I set the sea alight

With a single fiery breath,

Once I was so mighty

That I thought my name was Death.

 

Sing out loud ‘til you’re eaten,

Song of melancholy bliss,

For the mighty and the middling,

All shall come to this.”

 

“Wow, Red, you have an amazing voice,” Hiccup said in astonishment. Red just shrugged.

 

“Yes, but what on earth was that song,” Fishlegs added, “It’s hardly a lullabye.”

 

“Oh, right sorry,” Red flushed a bit, “I just thought it was fitting, as it is a Death Song.”

 

“Right…”

 

“Anyway,” Hiccup continued, “It seems we’ll just have to take turns looking after Garff here. Singing seems to calm it, as evidenced by Red and Heather. We’ll just have to sing when he gets upset and hopefully things will go smoothly."

 

The next few days did not go smoothly. While it seemed that Heather and Red were great singers and Snotlout and Hiccup could at least somewhat carry a tune, the rest were truly hopeless at the art. When it came time for them to take their turn with the baby Death Song, they would often try to push the responsibility onto Heather and Red. Heather of course pushed back against this, claiming that they all had to do their part. Red on the other hand was a bit soft hearted and a bit of a pushover so he soon found himself handling Garff the most often. 

 

Red was a bit astonished that this was an issue at all. While Vikings were known to be a barbaric sort, they were also quite a musical lot as well. A true Viking valued their ability to sing nearly just as highly as they valued their skill with a sword or ax. Even the more vicious tribes such as the Uglithugs and the Lavalouts could all sing quite well. More than well in fact, they sang quite beautifully despite their spiked armor and their skeleton tattoos and their bloodstained weapons. In all of the barbaric world, Red had only ever heard of two individuals who could not sing: Humongously Hotshot the Hero and his hero wife Tantrum O’Ugerly.

 

The absolute most egregious of the bunch had to be the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut whose voices held the same tonal value as a dying goose and whose concept of melodic composition was so terrible that it somehow went all the way around to being nearly avant-garde in its breaking of typical harmonic convention. Having been born with a keen ear, it was suffice to say that when it was the twin’s turn to look after the dragon, Red was suspiciously nowhere to be found around the Edge. This had quickly turned into a game amongst the twins, who would attempt to improvise a new song whilst simultaneously searching for the boy, often managing to find him much to his dismay and forcing him to bear witness to their latest musical abomination.

 

That was the most amusing part to watch, Hiccup thought. Red, seeming to be a very polite boy, would never say a word to insult the twins’ musical talents, but the clear look of pain on his face when he would nod and tell them that ‘oh yes that was quite interesting, I can see where you were going for there when you jumped up two octaves before changing keys, very…very passionate, it really conveyed the emotion of the piece I think…” It was almost impressive how well Red could come up with such nonsense on the spot.

 

But the greatest moments always occurred when the Twin’s asked Red to join their duet and sing along. Unable to say no, the poor boy would just nod and do his absolute best to follow along with whatever strange melody they had come up with. With each sudden and random change in key, he could see Red’s entire face scrunch up as he desperately tried to keep up. It was like watching a professional chef being handed a recipe written by a four-year-old and then given the task to somehow make it edible.

 

Hiccup pitied the poor boy. But at least it appeased the dragon somehow. It would remain to be seen whether or not they would manage to maintain this new dynamic or if they would burn out. Hiccup had faith they might be able to pull this off. In the meantime, he had another matter to attend to. 

Shaking his head and letting out a small huff of laughter as he watched the twins pester the poor boy, he turned back to the entrance of his workshop and stepped inside.

 

Notes:

I do love that the Vikings are so musical in the books. It's just fun. And there is a weird theme of music and death being intertwined as Hiccup and several other characters will sing when they are certain they about to die and in the 1st book we are introduced to the concept of the 'singing supper'. I dunno, it's just something interesting I noticed. I suppose that's why I figured the Deathsong dragon hatchling would be a fun first event to kickstart the story.

Sorry again for the long wait. I have had this chapter and the next and several more written for a while now, I just have been a little hesitent to post it I guess. Anyway, you guys have been so nice, I decided to just suck it up and get it over with. You all deserve that much at least. I'm a really shy person by nature and I'm mostly just a lurker, this is the first bit of work I have published online in a long while. Your comments have really meant a lot to me. I'm just glad you all seem to be enjoying it.

Chapter 7: The Strategist and the Craftsman

Summary:

Red has a bit of difficulty fitting in at the Edge, his inability to lose at Maces and Talons does not help this.

 

 

“Up with your sword and strike at the gale

Rider of seas, for those waves are your home!

Winters may freeze, but our hearts do not fail,

Hero’s hearts Forever!

 

You’re never alone if the sea is your friend,

Riding the waves of impossible quests!

If it doesn’t end well then it isn’t the end,

A Hero fights Forever!”

 

Red was gently rocking the poor creature back and forth as he sang. As cute as the little dragon was, he was beginning to wonder just how feasible Hiccup’s plan was. Already the riders at the Edge were at their wits end, having to maintain a constant string of endless song or else be subject to the dragon’s wailing. It was making sleeping rather difficult. Not only that, Red found his throat was starting to feel a bit sore, he wasn’t sure what the others would do once he lost his voice entirely. They might just snap.

 

“So you really remember nothing about where you come from?” Fishlegs was asking, moving one of his game pieces across the board.

 

The two had begun a game called Maces and Talons. Red had never heard of it but the older boy was walking him through it. It reminded him an awful lot of chess. The pieces were different and the layout of the board was a bit strange, but the idea was the same. It was a game of strategy. 

 

“No, nothing I’m afraid,” Red replied, frowning as he overlooked the game board, “This piece, the longship, can it move diagonally?”

 

“Nope, sorry!” Fishlegs grinned, knowing he had Red’s King piece cornered. Red’s frown deepened. Then he leant over, gently so as not to disturb the sleeping dragon and moved a piece towards the back of the board.

 

“Pulling your traitor move I see,” Fishlegs nodded, then he frowned as he realized what that meant for his position, “Wait! Hey!”

 

“Might want to pull back to save your King from assassination.” Red grinned. 

 

“Unfortunately for you,” Fishlegs moved another piece, forcing Red’s traitor off the board, “The traitor always dies in the end, can’t pull that move again.”

 

“Hmm.” Was all Red said in response to this, his expression unreadable.

 

There was a long silence as Red thought over his turn. 

 

“But you seem to know quite a bit about dragons, and some really disturbing factoids about the archipelago’s history?” Fishlegs continued, returning back to their prior conversation.

 

“Weird I know, I don’t know why I know what I know either,” Red said, “It’s a bit cruel if I’m being honest. And what’s strangest of all is I swear I’ve heard of you all before.”

 

“Well it’s not that strange,” Fishlegs replied, “I’m not trying to brag but we do have a bit of a reputation.”

 

“Hmm, I suppose,” Red pondered on that for a moment, leaning forward to move another piece, “But I get the feeling that it’s not the case, that I know your names from elsewhere… Checkmate, by the way.”

 

“Checkmate?” Fishlegs seemed puzzled as to what Red meant by that, but then he let out a little shriek of surprise as he looked down at the board, “What! No way! How!?”

 

Red just smiled.

 

“I want a rematch!”

 

“Sure, I can-” 

 

Just then he was cut off by the slight huffing of the dragon as it stirred in its sleep. Fishlegs’ cry of surprise seemingly disturbing its slumber. 

 

“Oh dear,” Red sighed and quickly he began singing again.

 

“The Hero cares not for a wild winter’s storm,

For it carries him swift on the back of the waves!

All may be lost, and your hearts may be worn,

But a Hero fights Forever!”

 

“Alright, I reset the board,” Fishlegs announced, a bit softer this time, not wanting to wake the dragon again, “You have the first move.”

 

Red thought for a moment before moving his piece. 

 

“Ah, the naval route, an interesting start,” Fishlegs raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Are you sure you want to begin that way, it’s not an easy route for beginners. If you want I’ll let you restart.”

 

“No, I’m good,” Red replied. Fishlegs just shrugged. 

 

“So if you don’t know us through our, well,” he blushed a bit, “Our heroic deeds, then how do you think you know about us?”

 

“I don’t know,” Hiccup pondered, “Really it's just your names that are familiar, too familiar to know through word of mouth, but honestly your faces are completely foreign to me. It’s the strangest feeling.”

 

“Hm, maybe it’s just another symptom of your head wound,” he gestured to Red’s still bandaged forehead, “Speaking of which, I don’t mean to pry, but what’s that on your forehead? I thought I saw something peeking out from under your bandages. Is it a tattoo?”

 

Red raised a hand cautiously to his head, careful not to press too firmly against the giant knot on head. It still hurt so badly he wondered if he had fractured his skull. That would certainly explain things. 

 

“Other side,” Fishlegs helpfully pointed out. 

 

Red felt the skin of his forehead, gently reaching under his bandages and lifting them up. 

 

“It’s an ‘S’,” Fishlegs frowned, “Well Snotlout will be pleased by that… or wait, is that supposed to be a dragon?”

 

Red had no idea, but as his fingers traced over the oddly smooth patch of skin that didn’t feel quite like a tattoo ought to, but not quite a scar either, he felt an odd swirl of conflicting emotions within him. His stomach twisted and he felt his breath catching. Pride, fear, longing, shame. He wasn’t sure what on earth it meant but it was making him a bit nauseous. 

 

“I don’t know,” Red said softly and an awkward pause fell between them before Fishlegs cleared his throat and made his next move. 

 

“Alright, what do you say to that?” Fishlegs looked mighty pleased with himself, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. 

 

“Checkmate,” Red replied, moving one of his hunters through a gap in Fishlegs’ defense and plucking his King off the board. 

 

“What? No way!” Fishlegs sputtered in astonishment. Red just gave him a wicked grin as Fishlegs tried and failed to comprehend what had just happened. It was going to be a fun night.

 

***

 

Hiccup was working quietly at the table. Tinkering with his latest project that he’d been working on the past several days. He was enjoying the silence for once when he heard the soft footsteps quietly approaching from behind him. He knew from the limping gait who they belonged to almost immediately. 

 

“Your turn on dragon duty done then?”

 

“Yeah, I handed Garff over to Snotlout,” Red’s soft and somewhat hoarse voice replied, “I don’t think he likes me much.”

 

“Who, Garff?”

 

“Snotlout,” Red replied, miserably, “He keeps calling me ‘Dragon thief,’ or ‘dweeb’ or other such things,” The boy sighed, stepping into Hiccup’s field of view, “I thought he might move past it after I apologized but I guess not.”

 

“Don’t take Snotlout too seriously,” Hiccup replied, “He’s a bit rude and rough around the edges, but he’s not so bad. He’ll warm up to you… eventually.”

 

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to him?” Red asked, “I’d really prefer for that eventually to be ‘tomorrow afternoon’ or some other time within reasonable proximity of now.”

 

Hiccup laughed.

 

“Listen, Snotlout is all bark and no bite,” he said, trying to cheer up the somewhat sulky boy, “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you nearly half as much as he pretends to. I’m certain ninety percent of what he says and does is an act, he’s much softer on the inside. Or at least I like to think that’s the case.”

 

“I’d rather like to know that’s the case…” muttered Red. 

 

Hiccup chuckled softly, lifting up the device he was tinkering with to catch the light so he could get a better look at the smaller mechanisms. 

 

“So Red, I thought you were with Fishlegs? Last I saw, you were playing Maces and Talons together. Did you get bored? It is a rather slow game.”

 

“Hmm, I left after Fishlegs got mad at me.”

 

“He got mad at you?” Hiccup raised a brow, Fishlegs was rather even tempered. Hearing that he might have gotten into a fight with Red was a bit surprising, unless Red had done something fairly serious to annoy him. But he didn’t want to start laying accusations at the boy so he waited patiently for the explanation.

 

“Well, sort of,” Red said, sitting next to him at the table and watching him work, “He didn’t yell or anything, but his face started turning a strange reddish color. He also started getting a little bit passive aggressive, which was a bit rude, but he was rather heated so it is a little understandable.”

 

“What did you do?” Hiccup asked, genuinely surprised. 

 

“I kept beating him at Maces and Talons,” Red sighed, “I tried letting him win a few rounds to spare his feelings, but well… he caught on and told me to stop. I was just trying to be nice, you know.”

 

“How many times did you win?” 

 

“Twenty three.”

 

“Twenty three!?” Hiccup looked up from his work for the first time and stared at Red in astonishment. The boy shrugged, his face turned slightly red and he looked away, a bit embarrassed. 

 

“How many did Fishlegs win?”

 

The boy’s silence said everything.

 

“Huh, well I’ll be…” Hiccup shook his head and returned to his work, “Seems you’re a little prodigy.”

 

“Well,” Red said, modestly, “I mean, I do have a lot of practice with strategy games so it's not like I’m a natural or anything…”

 

“Tell that to Fishlegs.”

 

“I did,” Red sighed, “It seemed to make him more upset.”

 

“You can sing, you can play Maces and Talons, you’re a natural with dragons it seems… What else can you do Red?” 

 

“Not much else, I don’t think,” Red replied mulling it over, “I mean, I’m hopeless in the muscles department, and I certainly can’t tinker like you can. Speaking of which, what are you working on exactly?”

 

“Oh this?” Hiccup said, holding up his newest invention, “This is going to be, well hopefully, a flaming sword.”

 

“A flaming sword?” Red sounded genuinely intrigued.

 

“Yes, Garff gave me the idea actually. You see, Deathsongs don’t really shoot fire, at least not that I know of, but they do shoot this amber substance that hardens around its prey. It’s incredibly strong but it becomes malleable with heat, so a flaming sword might be just the tool to deal with it.”

 

“Oh that’s brilliant,” Red was leaning forward, elbows on the table and watching Hiccup work with genuine enthusiasm, “How does it work exactly?”

 

“Well, inside the hilt here, I’ve placed compartments within which I place Monstrous Nightmare gel,” he gestured at the hilt and places in which one could remove each compartment. 

 

“Monstrous Nightmare gel?” Red questioned.

 

“It’s how Nightmare’s light themselves on fire, they secrete a gel which is extremely flammable. We collect it from Snotlout’s dragon Hookfang, and we’ve found it has quite a few uses.”

 

Red looked confused but he didn’t say anything, just waited for Hiccup to continue explaining so he did, “See here, I’ve engraved here a path in the metal for the gel to move along so there is an even distribution along the sword.”

 

“Once the gel has spread across the entire blade,” Hiccup ran his thumb along a switch on the hilt, “I use this to incite friction which will cause a spark to ignite the gel and-” he flipped the trigger and the sword burst into flames. 

 

Red’s eyes went wide.

 

“It works!” Red exclaimed in amazement, “It actually works!”

 

“So it does,” Hiccup smiled, feeling not a small amount of pride in his completed creation. 

 

“That’s amazing, that’s actually amazing!” Red practically jumped out of his seat with excitement. It was the first time he actually looked his age, a dumb happy grin across his face.

 

“Don’t look so surprised,” Hiccup laughed.

 

“I’ll admit,” Red said, grinning wildly as he watched Hiccup swing the sword around, “I thought you were a bit crazy trying to build a flaming sword, but you’re actually a bit brilliant aren’t you!”

 

“I’ve been told I’m a bit of both,” Hiccup admitted. 

 

“Now how do you put out the sword?” Red asked. 

 

Hiccup paused, he hadn’t exactly thought of that. 

 

“Water, I guess?” 

 

“Hiccup!” They both jumped at the new voice that called out, “This is officially out of hand, we cannot go on like this!” 

 

They turned to see Astrid landing Stormfly on the platform beyond the doorway. Both she and the dragon were covered in Death Song amber. The other dragon riders were not far behind, all of them were sporting similar looks and sharing the same irritated expressions. All of them except for Heather who was holding Garff and looking upset.

 

“What are you suggesting, that we just abandon him?” she exclaimed, “I’d never forgive myself!”

 

Hiccup sighed. He had been afraid of this. He did not want to give up the dragon, but it was becoming too much of a hindrance to the team. It was time to face the music, they simply weren’t equipped to take care of the baby Death Song. It needed a mother, a mother who could care for it in a way that they couldn’t. 

 

“We’re not going to abandon it Heather,” He finally said, “Because we’re going to do what we should have done from the beginning.”

 

“And that is…” Snotlout asked.

 

“Take it to be its own kind.”

 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Astrid asked.

 

“We’re going to Melody island to find that Death Song.”

 

Notes:

I wasn't able to find much about the rules for Maces and Talons on the wiki so I kinda bullshitted a little bit. I just assumed it was a bit like chess and went from there.

Both Hiccups are really intelligent but in very different ways. Book!Hiccup is much more a scholar and a strategist, traits they gave to Fishlegs in the movies for some reason. Really it should be Hiccup shouting out all the dragon stats, he's the dragon whisperer lol. Movie!Hiccup is more charismatic and crafty. A much better inventor than Book!Hiccup could ever hope to be (just look at the Hopeful Puffin lol).

Chapter 8: Astrid’s School for Swordfighting, Archery and Ax Throwing

Summary:

In which Red and Astrid get to know each other a little better.

The next day there was much hassle as the riders all prepared to make the journey to Melody Island which was supposedly the home of the Death Song dragon. Red wasn’t certain how successful this venture would be as he figured there was a great chance that the adult dragon might spurn (and likely would even eat) young that was not its own. However it did seem to be the most viable option and he trusted that Hiccup had at least some idea of what he was talking about when it came to dragons, so Red didn’t object. 

 

There had been some arguing on who would stay behind to watch over Red while they were all gone. It was not exactly the most pleasant thing to hear how much everyone objected to spending some time with you. Red was beginning to wonder if he had gotten stink dragon juices all over him or if he really was just that repellant. But he supposed he understood that for vikings it wasn’t exactly a thrill to hear you would be sitting out a dangerous mission to babysit a boy about four or five years your junior. 

 

He’d tried to speak up, to let them know that he would be alright for the afternoon on his own while they were gone and that they really didn’t have to watch him but he was immediately shut down. Apparently leaving a fourteen year old with severe brain trauma alone on an undefended military base was out of the question. He couldn’t really argue with that. 

 

It had eventually been decided that under no circumstances should he be left alone with the Twins. Snotlout had outright refused and Red was grateful for that and Hiccup seemed to understand that he wasn’t really the best candidate anyway. Fishlegs was still somewhat sour over having lost over twenty rounds of Maces and Talons and Hiccup seemed to want his dragon expertise, which was wise. They needed Heather’s voice to keep the baby calm and Hiccup was the leader of the expedition, so that left just one remaining candidate.

 

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” Astrid said, all eyes on her. 

 

“Come on, Astrid,” Hiccup said, “It’s just one mission, and we can’t leave the Edge undefended. Not with Red here all on his own.”

 

Astrid sighed, clearly frustrated that she wouldn’t get to join the mission with the others but eventually she just nodded, “Fine. You’re right. I’ll stay.”

 

“Thank you Astrid,” Hiccup said, “We’ll be back before nightfall, and if we aren’t… well, you know what to do.”

 

“Be careful,” she said and Hiccup nodded before signaling to the others that it was time to go. 

 

Red and Astrid stood together, watching as all together, the dragons shot into the air and began flying off towards the horizon. Stormfly nudged her gently to cheer her up, clearly sensing that she was upset for missing out on the excitement and Astrid patted her gently, the dragon successful in her task. 

 

Red cleared his throat awkwardly, he hadn’t really spoken to Astrid one on one before and he got the distinct impression that she didn’t care for him much. Especially since it had been her dragon that he’d tried to steal when he’d first woken up. Now it was his fault she had to stay behind and watch over him. He wasn’t exactly making the best first impressions. 

 

“Sorry Astrid,” he finally said, “I don’t mean to be a burden. If there’s anything I can do to help out around here, just let me know.”

 

“It’s fine,” she said, still clearly agitated but doing her best to be the bigger person about it, “And you’re still injured so honestly, you should just be taking it easy at the moment.” 

 

Red looked down at his bandaged body that was still a bit bruised and sore. For the most part he felt fine now. The stitches were healing nicely and the awful purple hue of his skin was gone. Not only that but he could actually feel and move the left side of his body which was a relief as it had been kind of terrifying to feel as though half of his body had actually died and was rotting away. He still had a limp, though that seemed to be due more to the deformed foot and the shriveled and missing toes that made it somewhat difficult to walk. He was also still prone to headaches and his thinking was still foggy, but overall this was the best he’d felt in as long as he could remember- which wasn’t a long time, sure, but still. 

 

“I’m fine,” he said, “I look worse than I feel. Really, if there are any chores you need done, or if you need me to make lunch or-”

 

“Go lie down,” she insisted, “I’ve got it covered.”

 

Red just sighed miserably and began limping his way to the clubhouse. It was a bit of a walk from where they had been watching the others take off, but as Red had said, he really was feeling much better and he made it without much trouble. He stepped inside the large building and was pleasantly surprised to find the Hogfly napping by the large fire. He slowly approached and sat down beside the little dragon, petting his head affectionately.

 

“Hello Hogfly,” He said softly. The little dragon stirred and looked up at him with loving wide eyes. 

 

“Hello, good morning mother!” he said before going right back to sleep. 

 

Red had carried with him the small bag of belongings that had washed up on shore with him from his room this morning. He slung the bag down in front of him, pulling out the meager items that had been his. He didn’t recognize most of them. The lobster claws were especially confusing but placing them around his neck gave him a strange sense of comfort. 

 

The black star did the opposite, but he found himself unable to take it off, something deep within him telling him that had to keep it on, that he ‘owed it to him’. Red was not entirely sure why he felt this way, or to whom he supposedly was owing, but he kept the black star around his neck, tucking it under his tunic so that he did not have to look at it. 

 

The last thing he pulled out was a black dragon skin fire suit. It was tattered and worn, but it was undeniably familiar. Not only that, but it was salvageable. He had requested a sewing kit and Fishlegs had leant one to him. He figured now was as good a time as any to start making repairs to the damaged suit. 

 

It took him a good while to sew up all the tears and he occasionally had to cannibalize parts of the outfit to make patches where there was not enough material to cover the skin. He took parts from the ankles of the fire suit, the parts that would be covered by the dragon leather boots and thus could be sacrificed for the more crucial parts of the outfit that had big chunks torn from it. The boots themselves were a pain to stitch up, but slowly and carefully, he worked at it until he finally had one fully recovered fire suit fit for wear should the need ever arise. 

 

He held it out carefully and stepped into it, pulling it over his clothes and carefully securing it around his body. It felt sturdy, he stretched, testing the patches and ensuring that they held firm. He couldn’t help but grin when they did, taking pride in his work. It wasn’t the most vikingly skill, but Red was fairly adequate at needlework, not the best, not the worst. He had done a serviceable job, and that was good enough for him, he didn’t care that his stitches looked a bit rough, so long as they held. Now all he had to do was test it. 

 

He pulled the hood up over his head and the visor down over his face, looking out at the world through the yellow dragon eye lenses that guarded his eyes. The suit smelled a bit stale but so long as the hood successfully filtered out smoke, he didn't care. He reached out tentatively towards the fireplace and cautiously placed his gloved hand within it. 

 

Nothing. 

 

So he hadn’t missed any small holes on his gloves, that was a relief. But the fireplace was a bit small to climb into to test the rest of the suit. It was lucky he knew of at least one dragon in the area who might be willing to help. 

 

***

 

Astrid had to admit, the day was not going as she had planned. She hadn’t exactly been looking forward to going to Melody Island, but having to stay behind while everyone else put themselves in danger wasn’t exactly making her feel especially good at the moment. Hiccup did have a point though, they couldn’t exactly leave Red all alone on the island. On one hand, it was a bit dangerous for the young boy. On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly certain she could trust him just yet. 

 

She didn’t exactly suspect Red of anything nefarious, he did seem to be a polite and shy boy, a bit too small and frail to pose any real threat. However, she had seen all this before. A stranger washing up on their island, claiming to have gone through a great trauma only to be secretly working for their enemy and trying to steal their dragons. And what had the boy first attempted to do when he’d first woken up?

 

Now Red really had been in a sorry state when he’d first arrived. But that didn’t mean he was completely above suspicion. Especially as he claimed to have no memory, which would be a very convenient cover if he was up to something. They didn’t even know his real name which was a bit concerning. 

 

No, Astrid didn’t think he was up to anything. However, until they learned more about him, she would keep an eye on him, just in case. She wouldn’t put it past Viggo to torture a young boy and then throw him at their feet just to get to them. If anything she felt sympathetic towards him, but she couldn’t trust him. Not yet.

 

Astrid had watched the young boy sulk off towards the clubhouse, clearly upset that he was reduced to more leisurely activities, before she began her rounds patrolling the island. She double checked all the defenses around the base, secured the perimeter and kept an eye on the horizon. She occasionally dropped by the clubhouse as well, quietly popping in to double check that Red was where she had left him. She was relieved to find that he had been sitting there calmly working at sewing together his old outfit. 

 

Now that was something that did unsettle her somewhat. The suit the boy had been wearing when he’d first arrived had been composed of dragon hide. She had never seen anything like it, not even the dragon hunters seemed to wear dragonhide armor. It was one of the mysteries about the boy she did not like and kept her suspicious. He claimed to be a friend to dragons and yet here he was, calmly sewing together a dragon hide suit as though the idea of murdering a dragon to wear their skin wasn’t horrific at all.

 

With the base thoroughly secured, Astrid decided she would take this spare time to get some training in. It had been a little while since she could get in some practice with her ax and she was craving a little exercise. She made her way with Stormfly down to the training arena where she began running drills and testing her strength. 

 

She was busy for quite a while, timing herself and trying her best to beat previous records. Every now and then her thoughts strayed to Hiccup and the others, hoping that they were faring well and that the mission was going smoothly without her, but each time she found herself getting distracted she forced herself to focus on her training. She had to keep her mind on her ax, on her body, on each move she was making. It was the common thought that ‘practice makes perfect’ but Astrid knew better. Practice made consistent, so if you practiced poorly, you performed poorly as well. She could not form bad habits now or let herself get sloppy.

 

So she soon found herself ‘in the zone’ as it were. Her world now consisted entirely of the blade of her ax and the training dummies before her. She didn’t notice the time passing and she certainly didn’t notice a little black clad figure entering the arena behind her. She was giving the dummy before her a particularly vicious swipe of her ax when her focus was finally shattered by the sound of Stormfly making a strange sort of snorting and huffing noise from behind her. 

 

“Stormfly?” Astrid turned around just in time to see her dragon open her mouth and let out a torrent of white hot fire. She threw up her arms, shielding herself from the heat of the flames, which while at least fifteen feet away, were still impossibly hot. 

 

She was already quite startled, but what alarmed her even more was the figure of Red standing right beside her dragon. He was wearing the eerie black suit and he was smiling slightly as he pulled the visor down over his face. Astrid had no idea what was going on or what he was doing but she felt her temper flaring. This stranger had already tried to steal her dragon once and now he was messing with the poor creature, inducing her to spit fire which was a clear sign of agitation. Astrid was going to strangle this kid. 

 

“Red!” she yelled over the crackling flames, “What in the name of Thor-” she didn’t have time to finish her statement, as to her complete astonishment and horror, the boy calmly walked directly into the flames. 

 

She stared in stunned silence for several moments. The boy was dead, completely engulfed in fire. That was her first thought anyway. Her second thought was ‘how on earth am I going to explain this to Hiccup!?’. This was a very good question as the team leader would not be pleased to return and find that the boy he’d promised to protect had ended up a sad pile of ash under Astrid’s watch. 

 

She was even more astonished however, when the fire stream finally ended, to see that Red was still standing there calmly on the blackened earth as though he didn’t even notice the flames that had just engulfed him. She blinked several times to make sure she was seeing right. She only watched as the boy pulled the hood off his head and shook out his wild red hair.

 

“A bit toasty, but no holes,” he grinned as he spoke to himself. Then he turned and patted Stormfly fondly, muttering something to her. 

 

“What on earth was that!?” Astrid exclaimed. 

 

Red jumped slightly as if noticing her for the first time. 

 

“Oh, hello Astrid,” he said, “I was just testing my fire suit. I was repairing it earlier and I wanted to make sure it still worked.”

 

“Your fire suit?” She echoed, still a bit bewildered. 

 

Red gestured down to the black dragon skin suit, “Yes, and it does, in case you were worried. No burns, see!” He pulled off one of his gloves revealing pink healthy skin underneath. 

 

She was silent for several moments. 

 

“How?” she finally asked once she had put her thoughts in order. 

 

“Dragon scale armor,” he replied, “It’s thin and doesn’t provide much protection against claws or swords, but it is one hundred percent fireproof. Though at higher temperatures it does get a bit… unbearable you will survive.”

 

She just stared at him. It made sense, and it certainly explained why someone might want to make armor specifically from dragon hide. However it did not explain where it had come from, who had crafted it, or why it had been given to a scrawny fourteen year old who looked like he’d be the first to die on the battlefield. 

 

“Where did you get that?”

 

Red looked down at his feet. 

 

“Right, you don’t remember,” she sighed in frustration, “Is there anything you do remember?”

 

“Well, I know that these suits were originally crafted by the Lavalouts from Lavalout island,” he offered, kicking at the ground, “They need them for the hot forges and mines, as it is a volcanic island after all.”

 

Astrid at this point couldn’t tell if this boy was mad or just making things up. It was possible that all the nonsense he spouted was true. But then why had Astrid never heard of any of it. Murderous and Lavalout tribes sacrificing people to sky dragons for loosing swimming races and wearing dragon hide suits to work inside volcanoes. It sounded a bit insane. Maybe the boy had hit his head just a bit too hard. Or perhaps he was just having a bit of fun with them. It really was a bit hard to tell. 

 

“I thought I told you to go lie down,” she said.

 

“Well, I was, sort of,” he replied, “I was working on fixing up the fire suit and then I needed to test it. Sorry if I disturbed you, I can go now if you like.”

 

Astrid was about to dismiss him, but the boy looked so dejected that it broke through her rough warrior exterior, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit bad. Perhaps she was being a bit too harsh on him. He was telling the truth after all, she had seen him quietly working away in the clubhouse and he hadn’t caused any trouble- well aside from scaring her half to death by walking straight into a torrent of flame, but other than that he hadn’t done anything really to warrant her coldness. 

 

“It’s fine, you can stay if you like,” she sighed, “Just stay out of the way, I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

 

“What are you doing?” he instantly perked up a bit.

 

“I’m trying to improve my aim and accuracy,” she said, lining up the targets again, “First with my ax, and then with these throwing knives.” 

 

Astrid felt his gaze on her as she, one by one, threw her weapons at the targets, all of them hitting the dead center with loud thunks as they sank into the wood. Her aim was perfect, but unfortunately she had been a little slower than she would have liked. Frustrated, she marched over to the targets and began pulling out the weapons, which took a bit of effort as they really were stuck quite deep into the wood. 

 

After several rounds of this, she was interrupted by Red’s voice from behind, “Do you mind if I try?”

 

She glanced over and saw he was holding a shortbow and a small quiver full of arrows. He must have found them over on the weapon rack. 

 

“Go ahead,” she stepped aside, folding her arms. She had to admit, she was a bit curious to see how well the boy would do. 

 

He stepped up to the mark and took careful aim, drawing back the bow until his fingers were nearly grazing his chin. Then he let loose, the arrows flying through the air and striking their targets. His aim was good, but it wasn’t nearly as precise as Astrid’s had been with her knives and ax. He fired another arrow, and then another, all of them hitting their targets, occasionally a little off the mark, but honestly it wasn’t too shabby for a skinny and frail boy. 

 

“Not bad,” she commented, and he lowered the bow and grinned. 

 

“Thanks,” he said, “I’m a bit surprised actually, I didn’t think I’d be a decent shot.”

 

Astrid had to admit, she hadn’t expected it either. 

 

“You need to account for the wind,” she said, “You have good aim but the wind will blow your arrows off target,” she pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning on and approached him.

 

“Oh, right,” he said, his face turning a bit red, “I forgot.”

 

“Lift your bow again,” she instructed.

 

Confused, he followed her orders, raising the bow and aiming it at the target. She leant over next to him, following his sight line and gently correcting his stance so that he would more easily hit his target.

 

“Keep your elbow up,” she said, “Don’t tense your body, relax.”

 

Red nodded, taking a deep breath and tried to let the tension flow out of him. 

 

“Now, when you feel you have the shot lined up, account for the wind and adjust accordingly.” He shifted his aim slightly. 

 

“Release.” 

 

He let the arrow fly. It sang through the air and met the dead center of the target. Red lowered the bow, a look of amazement on his face and then he grinned. 

 

“I hit it!” he cheered, excitedly, “Thank you, Astrid, that was very helpful.”

 

“It was nothing,” she brushed away his thanks, but smiled nonetheless. 

 

She watched as he ran over to the targets and with great difficulty began ripping the arrows out of the wood. After several minutes of watching him struggle, she almost stepped in to help but he managed to get them all out on his own and he returned to her side, slinging the bow over his back and grinning as he placed the arrows in the quiver at his hip. 

 

“Actually Astrid,” he said after a moment, “If you don’t mind, would you want to spar with me?”

 

She blinked in surprise.

 

“You want to spar?” she looked down at his reedy form, nearly a whole head shorter than her and so thin it seemed as though a strong wind might blow him over. She wasn’t certain he could hold a weapon, let alone fight with one. 

 

“Yes,” he nodded, “I’ve been itching to get some sword practice in actually, and now that my left arm is healed, I think I’m ready to try it.”

 

She glanced at his bandaged arm. It was the same arm that not two weeks ago had swelled up like a balloon and had been a very dark shade of purplish black. Not only that but it had been bleeding profusely with two dragon’s teeth sticking out of it. It did look a great deal better, but she wasn’t certain he should be fighting with it yet.

 

He seemed to see her expression and sighed. 

 

“I can use my right hand instead if you like,” he offered. 

 

Finally she nodded, “So long as you use your right hand only, we can spar.”

 

He grinned. 

 

It took Red a minute or two to find a suitable sword. Most of the swords in their collection were long swords and were a bit too big and heavy for the boy to lift with a single hand. The few short swords he could find didn’t seem to impress him. He would lift them up, examine their elegant designs, swing them about for a few moments and then place them back on the rack he had found them. Finally, after several moments, he lifted a rather plain sword, lunged forward with it, nodded and then joined her side once again.

 

“All that messing around trying to find the perfect weapon and you choose that?” she asked. 

 

He shrugged, “The best isn’t always the most beautiful. This blade is light, well balanced, but sturdy.”

 

“Alright then,” she said, lifting her blade and assuming a battle stance, “Are you ready?”

 

Red nodded, assuming a stance of his own. 

 

“Then let’s begin.”

 

Astrid hadn’t been expecting much when she raised her sword against his. She had decided she would go a bit easy on him, he was injured after all and he wouldn’t be using his dominant arm. However, as they began the fight and he easily countered each and every blow she dealt him, she began to take the duel a bit more seriously. 

 

Red was an interesting fighter. He was calculated, slow and calm. His face was expressionless and he took a more defensive fighting stance, allowing Astrid to make most of the moves and parrying them easily. He was not flashy and he was incredibly difficult to trick with a feint or to startle with a sudden lunge. Each attack she made, he easily and calmly countered it, seeming to be hardly affected by the fight at all. Not a hint of concern, not a moment of doubt, not even a bit tired or out of breath. It was a bit astounding actually. 

 

There was no way that this tiny boy was actually winning the fight. She felt her previous confidence beginning to waver and she began to fight against him in earnest. She threw caution to the wind, almost forgetting that the boy she was dueling was only fourteen years old and began lunging brutally with the sword. 

 

“Who are you!?” she exclaimed, performing an exceptionally well timed thrust that he parried easily, not a drop of sweat on his brow as she felt herself begin to feel the toll of the sword fight on her own body. Red seemed to sense her growing exhaustion.

 

It was as if a switch had been flipped. 

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he sprang, thrusting the sword at her so swiftly that had her reflexes not been as sharp as a cat’s it would have pierced straight through her chest. Now it seemed as though it was his turn to fight in genuine earnest. She took several steps back in stunned amazement as he advanced, raining blow after blow upon her. She was lucky he wasn’t using his dominant hand because the attacks he was using were quite skilled and required an exceptional amount of dexterity that with his right he wasn’t quite able to perform. They were still incredibly difficult to defend against and she found herself now fully on the defense. 

 

She dived to the side, rolling around and reappearing from behind. He whirled around just in time to catch the blow she dealt. He took the opportunity to wrap his blade around hers and attempt to force it out of her hand. It nearly worked too, but her grip was far stronger than his and she just managed to maintain her hold on the weapon. She instead used her greater strength to push back against the locked swords, forcing him to stumble a step back. 

 

That was when she used his limp against him, kicking out against his weak foot as he stumbled so that he lost balance completely and landed roughly on the ground. The sword clattered out of his hand and she held her blade against his chest, pinning him to the earth. 

 

“Match,” she panted, and Red looked up at her. He was grinning. 

 

“That was brilliant,” he said, “I felt I’d be a good swordsman, but I wasn’t expecting that. And you’re brilliant yourself!” 

 

He moved as though to get up but Astrid’s blade was still pointed firmly at his chest. He looked down at it, then back up at her, noticing for the first time the cold expression on her face and his smile fell abruptly. 

 

“Um, is something the matter?”

 

“Who are you?” she repeated again, she was done playing games with this boy.

 

He blinked in confusion, “What do you mean?”

 

“Drop the act!” she spat, “You show up out of nowhere wearing armor made of dragon skin, claiming that you can’t remember a thing, but the first thing you do when you wake up is try to steal our dragons!”

 

Red paled a bit, “Well, I am sorry about that, I was a bit confused you see and-”

 

“Confused and scared, and the first thing you try to do is ride a dragon?”

 

“Well, yes,” he swallowed, his gaze firmly affixed to the sword pointed at him, “I needed to get away.”

 

“On a dragon?” she glared, “There is not a single tribe I know of so comfortable with dragons, which means you’re either a Hooligan or a liar!”

 

“But I’m not lying!” he exclaimed, “I swear to you, I really have no idea who or where I am! I swear to the gods themselves!”

 

“The others might have fallen for it, Hel, I might have even fallen for it but I am one of the most skilled warriors of my tribe! There is no way in Valhalla that some no-name fourteen year old who randomly washed up on the beach can almost beat me using his non-dominant hand!”

 

“I almost beat you? Really? Me?” Red did seem genuinely astonished, “I had a feeling I was doing well, but I had no idea-”

 

“Which means you are not just some random boy. You are trained. Exceptionally well. You are a dragon thief, a warrior in dragon skin armor and a wolf in sheep's clothing. So let me ask you again: Who. Are. You?”

 

There was a long and tense silence as Red fumbled for the right words to say. But it seemed he had none. He just stared up at Astrid, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing like a stunned fish. 

 

Things might not have turned out well for Red had Hiccup not returned right at that very moment. 

 

“Well, we were lucky,” he was saying as he entered the arena, “The Death Song accepted Garff as their own and- Woah woah woah! What in the name of Odin is going on here!” He rushed forward with his arms out, trying to put a stop to the altercation.

 

“Hiccup, there is something up with Red, he’s clearly a spy sent by Viggo or some other dragon hunting tribe trying to learn our secrets.”

 

Hiccup glanced down at the terrified Red whose face had gone as pale as ice.

 

“Do you have any proof of this Astrid,” His voice was calm and measured, he was taking her deadly seriously.

 

She faltered for a moment, “Not any direct proof, no. But look at what he’s wearing, Hiccup, that’s dragon skin. Where on earth did he get that? And he tried to steal my dragon, why would that be his first instinct? And he keeps talking nonsense about places and people I’ve never heard of, and why does he know so much about dragons? None of this is adding up Hiccup and I have a horrible feeling that this boy is going to put all of us in serious danger!”

 

There was another terrible silence as Hiccup thought over her words.

 

Then he reached out and gently lowered her sword with his hand, looking her in the eyes, “I understand Astrid, I do, and you have a point. But we can’t just accuse him of wrongdoing without any evidence.”

 

“I know,” she sighed, letting Hiccup ease away her worries, “But Hiccup, you remember last time, with Heather? It turned out she had been working with Alvin all that time and none of you would believe me, but I felt in my gut that we couldn’t trust her and I was right. I feel a similar sort of dread right now, I feel as though by harboring this boy we are walking headfirst into a situation we know nothing about and are completely unprepared for. I don’t know how else to explain it… But something is wrong here. Tell me you can feel it too.” 

 

Hiccup looked from her, back to the boy who wisely remained silent, and then back to her. 

 

“I trust you Astrid, and I know what you mean about Red. There are definitely things about this whole situation that are puzzling and that we don’t know. But we have to remain optimistic, we can’t just assume the worst. He is innocent until proven guilty. If trouble arises then we will just have to face it.”

 

“I…” Astrid paused for a moment, and then she sighed, all the fight leaving her, “You’re right Hiccup.” She sheathed the sword and stepped back and Red looked as though he would faint with relief.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, getting to his feet and dusting himself off, the black scales shining as the dirt was wiped clean from them. 

 

“This doesn’t mean I trust him though.”

 

“And you don’t have to,” Hiccup said, “I’m not asking you to trust him, just trust me.”

 

She nodded, “Of course I trust you Hiccup.”

 

He smiled, “Thank you.” 

 

Then Hiccup cleared his throat and clapped his hands, “Now, let's go get dinner and I will tell you what happened on the expedition.”

 

And so the three began making their way towards the clubhouse. Hiccup took the lead, animatedly telling the story of their latest encounter with the Death Song as they walked. Astrid hung a few paces back, her focus occasionally drifting to Red who was trailing behind. She would let him off the hook, for now. But she would keep an eye on him, and if he did anything out of the ordinary, anything that set the alarm bells ringing in her mind… well. He had already found himself at the end of her sword before. The next time it happened, he wouldn’t be so lucky. 

 

Notes:

I hope Astrid didn't come off as being too ooc this chapter. I just think that out of all the characters, she is the most suspicious and overprotective and would definitely find Red to be a bit fishy. Especially once he revealed what an amazing swordsman he is.

Speaking of which, in the books Red is actually ranked as a Gold Flashmaster, the highest rank a swordsman can achieve and is exceptionally rare. He can defeat even Stoick the Vast in single combat and can even go toe to toe with his mother Valhallarama who in the books is literally the most badass warrior in the archipelago.

Just a neat little fun fact for those who may not have read the books. Though, from the comments, I'm guessing most of you have lol.

Chapter 9: Hedge Hunters

Summary:

The reality of Red's situation begins to sink in.

Red sat cross legged on his bed, holding the journal that Hiccup had been kind enough to lend him. He had been itching to write about everything he had encountered so far, especially when it came to the new species of dragons he had encountered and had been thrilled when Hiccup had given him an old unused notebook and a pen he could borrow. He was even more thrilled to learn that Hiccup already owned several books dedicated to cataloging everything their tribe had to know about dragons. This was greatly unusual. Red had never known Vikings to be the scholarly sort, and the fact that they had devoted so much time to actually learning about dragons and how best to work with them rather than just screaming at them was quite refreshing. Even more surprising than this was the fact that they had more than one book on the subject, sourced from all over the world purchased from merchants and not stolen. 

 

Wherever it was he had ended up, it was a far more civilized place than the world he had come from. For individuals calling themselves ‘Vikings’ to have not just one or two books on hand but a whole collection? It was unheard of. The only collection of books Red had heard of was the Meathead Public Library which, contrary to the name, was closed to the public, guarded by an army, and looked after by a madman wielding dual swords he called his Heartslicers.

 

To finally be able to sit down and read a book that he didn't have to hide away and was more than three pages long was a joy Red never realized he had so desperately wanted.

 

He had eagerly gotten to work, journal open, pen in hand, ready to put to paper all the secrets the book could tell him. It had taken him only a few moments to realize that something was terribly wrong.

 

It wasn't the kind of wrong that was easy to put his finger on right away, but it was more the sense that it put into question everything he thought he knew about dragons. Red was typically quite confident on his knowledge of dragons and their behaviors, but this book had sent him spiraling into confusion and doubt, because upon flipping through its pages, Red had only three options to consider:

 

1) Red actually knew nothing about dragon species or the knock to his head had scrambled his brains to the point of extreme confusion

2) Whoever had written the book was a hack or an outright liar

3) Reality itself was wrong and was beginning to collapse in on itself

 

Hiccup and the other dragon riders had seemingly put a lot of faith and confidence in the tome, and they seemed to be fairly knowledgeable on the subject, so Red figured he could cross the second option off the list. The first option wasn't great, but it wasn't as world ending as the third, but Red was certain that despite the head injury he couldn't discount all his knowledge on dragons. He was about as certain about his knowledge as he was about his understanding of gravity and the flow of time. But it had to be that he was wrong because otherwise... what did it mean? It was like reality itself was gaslighting him. Maybe he really didn't know what he was talking about...? 

 

For instance, the Monstrous Nightmare as described by this book was not in fact a wolf sized demon used for hunting and battle only to be trained by chieftains or their sons, but rather a much larger creature known for its ability to set itself on fire. Hookfang, Snotlout's dragon, seemed to fall under the description presented to him. Just as different was the Gronkle, which again was not the meanest and most well armored hunting dragon but rather a fairly even-tempered riding dragon known for eating rocks and belching lava. And again, the Deadly Nadder was much larger than the Nadders he had become familiar with in his studies.

 

There were other species listed as well, Windwalkers, Devilish Dervishes, and Silver Phantoms, all of them far different from the dragons of the same name he had become acquainted with. It was quite puzzling; Red had no idea what to make of it. It was actually beginning to stress him out a great deal. He wanted to ask Hiccup about it, but he didn't even know where to begin. He didn't even know how to describe the problem. Hiccup was certain to think he was just a confused child who simply got confused listening to scary stories by adults and was confusing fiction and reality or something of the sort. But Red knew he wasn't wrong. Red knew about dragons. He knew more about dragons than almost anybody else, of this he was certain. Tapping into his mind, the few memories he did have, he found nothing but lists upon lists of facts about dragons, and not just basic information such as names and descriptions, but their individual strengths and weaknesses, all the colors and sizes and shapes they could take. He knew about their wants and their fears, he knew about which dialects of Dragonese they were most likely to speak, their temperaments, how willing they would be to work with humans, whether they were solitary or pack hunters. Red knew about dragons. 

 

He just didn't know about these dragons. The ones listed in this book. He knew many of their names, but he didn't know them. And it was stressing him out.

 

He felt like he was losing his mind.

 

He began flipping through his notes, wondering if he was missing something. While many of the dragons in the book had shared names with the species he had seen, none of the dragons had actually been familiar to him. Not a single one resembled anything he had seen before.

 

There were no Basic Browns or Common or Garden dragons, no Marsh Tigers or Sabre-Tooth Driver dragons. The most basic of hunting and work dragons and there wasn't even a footnote mentioning them. It completely excluded nanodragons, as if they didn't exist as well as the monstrously sized Sea Dragons. It was bizarre. It was like opening a zoology book only to find they had excluded dogs and horses and cats to focus on new types of animals you had never even seen and then following that up by putting a picture of a kraken and labeling it a fox. It just made no sense. Even the more dangerous varieties you would want to keep information on as a warning were absent.

 

The Toungetwisters that twisted the limbs off of their victims with their disgusting hairy tongues. Brainpickers which latched on to their victims' heads, inserting long proboscises into their ears, liquefying their brains and drinking them as a butterfly drinks nectar from a flower. Scarers who could smell fear and would hunt down their terrified prey in packs, literally scaring their victims to death and then drinking their bodies dry of their adrenaline filled blood before it went cold. Venomous Vorpants whose venom killed torturously slowly and Poisonous Piffleworms whose poisons killed near instantly in seconds.

 

Vampire Spydragons which-

 

He felt a shudder run down his spine and without thinking he clutched his left arm protectively to his chest. The notebook fell to the floor with a clatter, and he pressed himself against the wall, breathing heavily.

 

A voice hissed at the back of his head "Where is my tooth…?" 

 

A pair of red glowing eyes hovered before him, gazing directly into his soul.

 

He couldn't breathe. For several moments he sat there trembling, the outline of the dragon fading in and out of his sight, its horrifying bat-like face hissing at him baring its teeth and ready to pounce. He thought he was going to vomit or faint; he wasn't sure which. 

 

Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it faded away like the morning mist leaving nothing but silence in the room. Red continued panting, gasping for breath, whipping his head wildly about, trying to make sure it was really gone before he melted into a puddle on the bed, his breathing slowing and his heart rate calming as he realized it had just been... a memory. The only event he had really truly remembered, and it had assaulted him so violently that he still found himself struggling to breathe.

 

He looked down at the scars on his forearm, tracing them with his trembling fingers. Was it a Vampire Spydragon that had done this to him? It would explain the swelling and the numbness. How had he escaped that? He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut forcing his lungs to calm, to slowly exhale and to stop their horrible spasming.

 

It took him several moments to regain his composure, laying there and doing his best to steady his breathing, before finally he found the wherewithal to sit up and reach out for the book he had dropped.

 

So, they were real then? The dragons he had an almost infinite list of in his mind. They were real, he could remember them? Almost... 

 

Then what was going on?

 

Actually what was going on?

 

Red rose from the bed, ignoring how weak his wobbling knees were and made for the door. He would resolve this. He would figure it out. It would just require a bit of field research, he would scour the Edge, find every dragon in the area and he would prove that he wasn't going insane. He just had to find something, just one familiar species. He opened the door and stepped out into the sun. He didn't care if it took all morning, he would find one. 

 

---

 

Tuffnut was bored. And that was never a good thing. 

 

He had spent the entire morning trying to figure out new ways to irritate Snotlout, trying to come up with the perfect prank that would result in the beautiful shade of brilliant scarlet the Viking's face would turn upon being appropriately riled up. It wasn't a difficult task to infuriate the teen, but there were so many shades of red the human face could make and only one of them marked the true state of fury that indicated a successful pranking venture. Ruffnut had already insisted that she could pull it off before noon, so Tuffnut was scrambling on his own to outdo her. It wouldn't be right to let her have all the fun. And if he could beat her to it, well that would be bonus points. Ruffnut had been winning too many of their competitions as of late and it was his turn to claim victory. 

 

He was standing by the dragon stalls, hoping to find some way to perhaps include Hookfang in his scheming. The dragon, while fond of his rider, was already a master of messing with the hot-tempered teen, so he was certain he would be ready and willing to go with whatever he had planned. 

 

He had been just about to make his move when a faint muttering caught his attention. It was quiet at first, so much so that he almost missed it entirely, but upon closer listening it was unmistakable. He glanced around the stalls, curious as to where it was coming from as there was no clear source for the noise. He spun in a circle, eyes scanning the room, trying to make sense of where the voice was emanating from but still there was nothing. The only other beings in the room aside from him were Hookfang and Stormfly.

 

"Hello?" he wondered aloud, "Anybody in here?" 

 

There was no response. Except however, the muttering seemed to grow louder. 

 

With the increase of volume however came with it a distinct direction. He followed the sound forward and realized that it was coming from outside the dragon pens. Now standing at the entrance he scanned the surrounding area. It took him several moments before he thought to look down. 

 

There beside the entrance was a small cluster of bushes and from them he immediately noticed the pair of legs sticking out from the largest one. 

 

"Bush man?" he stepped slowly forward, picking up a loose stick from the ground and tentatively held it out. Ever so gently, he reached forward and poked the legs with the stick.

 

Immediately the bush exploded, and a plume of leaves and twigs shot out at him as a torso freed itself from the branches.

 

"Ah it lives!" Tuffnut screamed, recoiling in surprise as suddenly before him stood the disheveled figure of Red, covered head to toe in leaves and dirt as though he had been out rolling around on the forest floor all morning. 

 

"I can't find them!" the boy exclaimed, a slightly wild look in his eye, "I can't find them anywhere!"

 

"What?" Tuffnut asked confused, he had been known for his own eccentricities before and he was more than happy to find that perhaps he found another odd ball. Though there was something a bit unsettling about the look in the kid's eyes that seemed less Tuffnut's brand of odd and just a little bit more unhinged. Which was fine Tuffnut could work with unhinged. It made life more interesting to say the least. 

 

"I looked down by the beach and up by the cliffside, but I can't find them anywhere!" Red exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing Tuffnut's shoulders (or rather his lower upper arms, Red lacked the height to reach Tuffnut's shoulders without reaching upwards) and shook him gently. 

 

"They have to be somewhere; they can't just not exist! That's impossible, I know they're out there!"

 

"Find what?" Tuffnut asked, he wasn't exactly sure what the Red boy was looking for but if it was a treasure hunt or any other such expedition it could prove to be quite promising. There was no doubt about it though, the boy was acting weird, and considering that this was Tuffnut, that was truly saying something. 

 

Red seemed to ignore him, letting go and beginning to pace back and forth. He seemed almost frantic, and it would have been alarming if Tuffnut hadn't been Tuffnut. 

 

"They have to be somewhere, they're just camouflaged, I'm sure of it." He muttered to himself as he paced, "Yes, I'm sure of it...."

 

Then Red made the strangest string of sounds Tuffnut had ever heard in his life. It sounded for a moment like they could have been words, but they were then followed by shrieks and pops and then as if punctuating it all, Red hissed as though he were a feral animal. 

 

"Woah," was all Tuffnut could say in response to that, he was about to add something to that, perhaps something about as strange and eccentric as he was known to be, but he never got the chance as Hookfang, who had been watching the entire situation suddenly let out a small screech of his own. 

 

Red looked up, startled by the sound. Then he imitated the sound, almost exactly and added on a few new screeches of his own. Hookfang went silent for a moment before letting out another strange chortling sound, and almost as if struck by lightning, Red jumped with a loud cry and bolted for the woods. 

 

Tuffnut could do nothing but stand there for several moments, blinking in surprise and trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Red and Hookfang had almost been... No... No there was no way.

 

"Oh. My. Thor." Tuffnut said, a smile creeping across his face as the realization dawned upon him. 

 

There was no way he was letting this Red kid out of his sights now. Without hesitation, Tuffnut leapt into action.

 

"Wait for me!" he called out as he took off after the strange little boy who was now running along the outskirts of the forest, occasionally diving face first into bushes and letting out wild intermittent screeches as he did so.

 

---

 

Fishlegs had been enjoying the peaceful morning. Ever since the debacle with the Deathsong, he had been taking the time to really appreciate the silence. Afterall, in between all the chaos of running the base at the Edge, it was so rare that they ever got any down time. He had taken the opportunity to have a nice picnic in the countryside with Meatlug. It was always good to take an opportunity to bond with one's dragon, and Fishlegs would never hesitate to do so. It had been even nicer when Hiccup had stopped by, and they had begun a lovely conversation about the classification of some of the newer species they had encountered. Toothless was resting not too far off in a lovely patch of grass, napping away under a warm beam of sunlight. It was a great morning, all things considered. 

 

That was, it had been a great morning, until with a loud shriek, a crazed red-headed boy had torn through the clearing and thrown himself into a bush. They didn't even have time to process that when soon after Tuffnut burst into the clearing after him with a similarly obnoxious screech and threw himself into a separate bush. 

 

"What in the name of Odin!?" Fishlegs exclaimed in surprise, completely and utterly befuddled by the seen before him. Though with the presence of Tuffnut he was certain it was some sort of scheme he had roped their guest into. He glanced over to Hiccup who looked equally as taken aback by the sudden chaos. 

 

There a was a small beat of silence before Red pulled himself out of the bush, and with a half-crazed expression, he exclaimed, "I can't find them anywhere! I've searched all over the camp but they're not anywhere! This cannot be!" Before letting out another strange string of gurgling sounds followed by another scream before he took off running deeper into the woods. Fishlegs sat there blinking in utter astonishment. He was completely expecting the insanity from Tuffnut, but not from the beforehand calm collected young boy who behaved oddly mature for his age. 

 

"Wait Red come back!" Hiccup called, climbing to his feet as if to chase after, but hesitating after giving it a second thought. Instead, he turned to Tuffnut who was still rummaging around in the bush he was buried in. 

 

"Tuff, what in the name of Thor is going on?"

 

The Viking pulled himself out of the brushes and turned to greet Hiccup with a typical mad grin on his face, though it seemed wider than normal even for Tuffnut. 

 

"Oh Hiccup, this is great you'll never believe this," He began, his voice brimming with overexcitement, "Red, you know the little guy, well get this," he paused for effect, "He can actually talk to dragons."

 

Hiccup and Fishlegs just stared at him, neither one of them buying what Tuffnut was selling for even half of a second. 

 

"No, no, I know it's crazy but it's true, I saw it with my own eyes."

 

"I'm sure you did, Tuffnut," Hiccup replied, his tone of voice indicating that he didn't believe him in the slightest, "But can you explain why on earth he's running through the woods screaming like a wild animal?"

 

"Oh, I have no idea," Tuffnut shrugged, "He's looking for something I think, I don't know, but he keeps screaming like that 'cause its its how he talks to the dragons, duh! Maybe he's trying to build an army, that's why he keeps shrieking. I dunno, but I'm trying to learn too, so I'm doing whatever he's doing. Watch!"

 

He turned to Toothless, who had long since woken up from the noise and gave a loud eardrum shattering screech that forced both Fishlegs and Hiccup to cover their ears. 

 

"See, I just told him hello. I think..."

 

There was dead silence among the three of them as Toothless gave him his most unimpressed glare. 

 

"Right," Hiccup shook his head, "Look, whatever's going on, Red's clearly not alright at the moment, let's all go find him and try to calm him down. Fishlegs, go back to the Edge and prepare a nice warm meal and drink, alright? Tuffnut and I will go find Red and then we'll settle all of this. Alright, let's head out."

 

---

 

Hiccup was a bit concerned. It had taken several minutes to get a hold of Red long enough to calm him down. when he had asked him to explain, the boy had just let out an incomprehensible stream of gibberish before finally saying, "There are no Nanodragons, there should be Nanodragons, this makes no sense!" 

 

This had been the only intelligible thing Hiccup had gotten out of the boy since. He had tried asking again as they made their way back to the base but Red seemed unable to give a full coherent thought. Occasionally it was the strange gibberish, and then he would speak again but in a foreign language Hiccup had never heard before, before finally returning to Norse only to repeat strange sentence fragments that made no sense. The most Hiccup could understand was that Red had been searching for something he referred to as 'Nanodragons' and had been extremely distraught that he hadn't found any. He repeated several times that they 'should be everywhere' and that they were 'essential to the ecosystem'. But beyond that, Hiccup couldn't figure out much. 

 

Finally, once they had returned back to the Edge and had for the most part, cleaned Red up and gotten warm food and drink in him, he finally calmed down enough to hold a conversation. 

 

"So Red," Hiccup said, once he was certain the boy was finally ready to speak, "Would you mind telling us what all that was about back there?"

 

There was an awkward pause and Red looked away, clearly embarrassed by his behavior. 

 

"I'm sorry, Hiccup," He finally said after a moment, putting the steaming mug of milk down on the table, "I didn't mean to alarm you. It's just... Nothing has made any sense since I've arrived here."

 

Fishlegs looked like he wanted to prompt him further, but stopped himself, remaining patient as the boy gathered his thoughts. 

 

"I feel like I'm losing my mind." Red finally said, looking down at the floor, unable to meet their eyes. 

 

Hiccup and Fishlegs shot each other a worried glance before Hiccup leaned forward and put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

 

"Hey look, I'm sure that's not the case, and even if it were, it's not the end of the world, right? We'd be right here to help you figure things out. You just need to tell us what's wrong okay, and then we can sort everything out. Everything is going to be okay, alright?" 

 

Red looked up at him, his eyes were a little watery, but he nodded, taking a breath as he began to try to explain. 

 

"I don't know where to begin," he said after another moment of hesitation, "It's all just... wrong, nothing makes sense... The dragons, the world, it's like everything I know is... well it's like some of it is right, but then some of it, well it's not wrong, but it is? I don't know how to explain it." Red seemed genuinely distraught and perplexed; his brow furrowed as he tried to put everything into words but failed. 

 

"Well, why don't we start with the Nanodragons. You said you were looking for Nanodragons right?" Fishlegs offered. Red paused for a few moments, nodding. 

 

"Well yes, where I come from, I suppose, there are Nanodragons everywhere," Upon noticing the blank look on their faces he quickly explained, "Er, Nanodragons are a category of dragon, typically the species range from a few centimeters to a few millimeters. They're much like insects really and they live in vast packs than can grow to be- well before I start rambling," he blushed slightly, "Essentially, I suppose I was just alarmed, to find out there are no Nanodragons here... It's a bit like waking up to learn that birds don't exist. I never imagined there would be a place that they didn't."

 

"I see," Hiccup said. This was certainly interesting. He'd never thought that dragons so small could exist, the smallest he had encountered were at least several inches in length. He would have to look more into that later and what that could imply about dragons and how they might need to extend their classification systems. But now wasn't the time. 

 

"I might have... overreacted a little," Red continued, "I suppose, it's just... everything is a bit overwhelming. I can't even remember my own name, I don't know why I thought I could trust anything else in my head at the moment, especially after the head trauma. I don't know..."

 

"It's alright Red. Like you said, you've been through a lot. It's no wonder everything is so confusing to you. I haven't forgotten my promise, we are still working to figure out where you come from and get you back to your people." Hiccup replied, "In fact, I can send a message to my father right now and see if he can reach out to the other tribes to see if any of them are missing a child or might have any information about where you might come from."

 

Hiccup had been hoping to meet in person with his father to discuss the matter, it was a bit much to try and contain all in one letter, especially since the conversation would be stretched out over a period of several days as they had to wait on delivery time. However, Red seemed to be quite upset with the whole situation and he was afraid if he waited any longer to take initiative, it would only result in further stress. It seemed the head injury may have caused more damage than he had initially thought, and along with whatever traumatic experiences the boy had been through, it had left young Red quite confused and distressed. He should have known that even with several weeks healing and adjusting to life at the Edge that it wouldn't be so easy. 

 

Red quietly nodded in response to the suggestion and Hiccup pulled out one of his journals, tore out a page and readied his writing utensil. 

 

"Alright, let's see, you said you are about fourteen years old... left-handed..." he began muttering as many characteristics off the top of his head as he began the letter, trying to paint an accurate image of the boy so that his father could get the word out. 

 

Father,

I hope all is well with you and the people of Berk. I am writing this letter with the hope that you might be able to help us with a certain issue that has arisen in the time since we last spoke. 

Several weeks ago, a young boy washed ashore in the aftermath of a great storm. We believe he may have been shipwrecked or fell overboard in the typhoon. He was severely injured and has lost all memory of who he is and where he comes from. We are hoping that you might be able to help identify him.

He is a young boy of about fourteen years of age and stands at about five feet and two inches tall. He is thin and not particularly muscular though he has shown great prowess with the sword, using predominantly his left hand. He has bright red hair and blue eyes and a freckled complexion. He has three scars across his right cheek, and an 'S' shaped tattoo on the side of his forehead. He was clothed in garments made of dragon hide, a lobster claw necklace and carries with him a pendent resembling a black star. With him arrived an unknown species of dragon titled "The Hogfly" and he has shown to be able to speak potentially several other languages and is proficient in games of strategy such as Maces and Talons.

Since his arrival we have referred to him as 'Redheart the Clever' though he says this is not his real name as he cannot remember it. We were hoping you might be able to recognize any of these attributes or if you had heard of any missing children that match this description. If you have not, we were hoping you might be able to reach out to the other tribes and see if they have any further information on the subject.

I have enclosed within the letter a rough sketch of the appearance of the boy as well as the dragon that arrived with him. 

If you can provide any information, please respond right away. We would be grateful for anything you can provide.

Your son,

Hiccup H. Haddock III

 

Hiccup looked over the letter several times, ensure that he hadn't forgotten anything. Finally, he turned to Red, offering the parchment over to him.

 

"Here, does this seem right? I'm not missing any important details?"

 

Red slowly reached forward, taking the letter and reading through it. Hiccup watched his eyes scan the document twice over before looking up once more and nodding.

 

"It looks alright to me, though, if you don't mind my asking, who is your father exactly? Is he someone important to your tribe?"

 

Hiccup blinked several times before letting out a small laugh. He supposed none of them had really mentioned it before, "Ah sorry, I should have mentioned this sooner. My father's name is Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hooligan tribe."

 

Whatever response he had been expecting, he did not receive it. Instead, Red's brows furrowed and his grip upon the paper tightened as he slowly lowered it down to the table. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, but before Hiccup had time to question it, it was gone and Red was once again looking at him with a faint and fragile smile. Perhaps he had just imagined the tenseness in the boy's posture, or perhaps it had been nothing and he had read too much into it, but whatever it was that had troubled him, it was gone, and the boy was speaking once again. 

 

"Ah, so that makes you the heir then," he bowed his head respectfully, "Sorry, I didn't realize."

 

"Eh, don't worry about it too much, I won't be chief for a good long while yet, until then I'm just Hiccup."

 

Red's smile widened slightly, "Right."

 

"In any case," Hiccup rose from his seat, "I'm going to go ahead and deliver this, I'll update you as soon as we get a response. Until then, please take it easy and if anything is bothering you, please come to us about it first. We are here for you, remember that."

 

"I will," Red replied, though he didn't quite meet Hiccup's eyes. Hiccup hoped that didn't mean anything negative, but he had the feeling that Red still had a few things he was keeping to himself. It was a bit disappointing, but he couldn't force the kid to open up before he was ready. It was clear he had some difficulties with trust, and he could hardly blame him for that. He would just have to make sure that he continued to make the boy feel safe and eventually, hopefully, he would drop some of those walls and begin to communicate more effectively. They had already bungled some things, and Astrid snapping at him the other day certainly hadn't helped matters, but trust was a two-way street. He could hardly blame the other members for having their suspicions about Red either, everything about him was strange and there were certainly some aspects of his arrival to the Edge that didn't make much sense. 

 

It was all a bit of a mess and the fact that Red couldn't remember a single thing about himself certainly didn't help. The fact that he seemed to be a highly skilled fighter as well certainly made things even stranger than before, not to mention his odd habit of speaking in gibberish and screaming at the top of his lungs at odd occasions. He had no idea what to think of that, other than it might be an odd side effect of the head trauma he had sustained. Along with the dragon hide clothing and the strange unknown dragon species and his talk of Nanodragons and strange historical figures, it was clear that wherever Red was from, it was definitely far from Berk. He wasn't even sure that any of their allied tribes would have any helpful information as he suspected Red might be from somewhere undiscovered to them so far. But they had to start somewhere. 

 

He sighed, and crossing his fingers, he sent out the letter, watching as the small dragon took off in the direction of Berk and slowly disappeared into the horizon. 

 

It would all work out. He was sure of it.

 

 

Notes:

Sorry for my long absence again. This chapter was particularly difficult to write, though I am not certain why and I'm not entirely happy with it, but I figured it's as good as it will get. I have drafts for the next few chapters started and the next chapter should be ready to go in the next week or so, so there shouldn't be a too long a break.

Anyway, I figured it was time to address the elephant in the room, Red isn't exactly from this reality. I feel like it would be very surreal to wake up in a parallel universe where things share the same name or similar characteristics but are in fact wildly different in nature. None of this is helped with the head trauma he sustained. There's enough there for Book!Hiccup to realize that something is very wrong, but he's missing too much info to identify the problem.

Chapter 10: How to Play Tag With a Changewing

Summary:

Red's average night in the Barbaric Archipelago

Red sat in the clubhouse at his usual place by the fire. It was empty, which was to be expected at this time of night. The only light outside was the pale light of the cold moon which, when it struck the sea below, seemed to turn the dark waves silver. It was beautiful and it was quiet, aside from the voice of the ocean and the crackling of the small fire Red had lit to light the room.

 

He had determined that perhaps he wasn't really doing so well integrating himself amongst the dragon riders. They were welcoming by Viking standards, and they seemed friendly enough, but if he was being honest with himself things weren't going all that well. Fishlegs was irritated with him for his inability to lose at Maces and Talons, Snotlout and Astrid seemed to think he was working for the enemy and the Twins… Well, the Twins hadn't really spoken to him much other than to spout strange nonsense and try to lure him into obvious attempts to prank him.

 

And there was that strange business of Tuffnut running around the camp and occasionally screaming when he was within Red's vicinity. After several moments of doing that, he would just grin at Red and give him a thumbs up and a knowing look as if he were trying to impart the idea that there was something going on that only the two of them understood. It was entirely one sided as far as Red was concerned, as he had no idea what Tuffnut was trying to get across. Red really had no choice in those moments but to halfheartedly grin in response and give a thumbs up in turn. That usually had the effect of making the older Viking laugh before pumping his fist in the air and then running off to do gods knew what. It was utterly baffling but Red really wasn't going to question it, the others didn't seem phased by it, only shaking their heads and sighing, so he supposed it was no big deal. 

 

Other than that, the only people who seemed to genuinely enjoy his company were Hiccup and Heather, who were often quite busy, and Red was doing his best not to intrude. 

 

Toothless and the other dragons were great company on the other hand, but he couldn't spend too much time with them or risk looking suspicious and inadvertently confirming the doubts of Snotlout and Astrid. He figured it was best at this point to keep to himself from now on to avoid upsetting them further.

 

For the past several days he had taken to holing himself up in his room, only coming down to join the others for meals. He spoke to Heather and Hiccup occasionally if he saw they had some down time, but mostly he distanced himself. He spent his time chatting with the Hogfly or writing down notes about his observations about this land in the journal Hiccup had been kind enough to lend him. At night he snuck down to the dragon pens and would talk for a while with the dragons and occasionally smuggle them treats (Red had always had a habit of spoiling dragons rotten). Then he would spend a little time up in the clubhouse reading through any book he could get his hands on.

 

Which is what lead him there tonight as well. He had pushed past the initial confusion surrounding the Book of Dragons and had forced himself to press on. For all that it was strange, it was an interesting read and Red figured that so long as he was here, he would need to know about the dragons of this land, no matter how confusing and contradictory to his prior knowledge it may be. He had just gotten to the page about Whispering Deaths when he found his eyelids beginning to droop and he was having difficulty keeping his head up. He glanced up at the candle he had been using for reading light only to find it had nearly burned itself out. It was much later than he had originally thought, so deep into the night it could nearly be called morning. 

 

This was a sign that he should head to bed now. Really, he should have gone to bed several hours before now, but he was having difficulty sleeping he found. Even with the soft bed and warm fire to keep him company, he often found himself laying there, his heart pounding and his mind racing at a million thoughts per second. When he did drift off, he found his sleep disturbed by terrible dreams that evaporated from his memory the moment they woke him. Only the pervasive feelings of dread and terror remained. 

 

He had thought about going to Hiccup and the others about it, but really, they had done enough and really what could they do to cure bad dreams and insomnia. Other than a glass of warm milk and a reassuring smile, neither of which really solved the problem, only mitigated the aftereffects. 

 

Talking to the dragons at night seemed to help to calm his nerves. And the presence of the Hogfly in his bed at night was extremely comforting and familiar, though it did give him the uncomfortable feeling that he was forgetting about something. Something incredibly important that was tugging at the back of his mind very adamantly to be remembered. It was frustrating. And worse it created in him a sense of longing and loneliness that he could not explain. 

 

He sighed, putting the book down and readying himself for the long and likely sleepless night ahead. 

 

A faint movement caught the corner of his eye. 

 

He sat forward, brows furrowing as he peered out into the dark night, wondering for a moment if he had imagined it. But no, there it was again. A faint little bobble dancing up and down across the lowest level of the Edge. He only spotted it because the moonlight had caught on its surface for just a moment at the right angle. 

 

Curious, he rose and made his way to the platform overlooking the Edge. As he stared further into the darkness, he suddenly realized what it was. It was the Hogfly, balled up into a balloon and floating lazily up some twenty feet in the air, moving up and down like a bobbing buoy as he made his way across the Edge. 

 

“Hogfly!?” Red hissed, doing his best to not shout outright and wake the whole crew, “What on Earth are you doing!?”

 

“Playing a game, mother, do you want to join?” The Hogfly replied, significantly less quietly. 

 

“What?”

 

“Can’t catch me! Oh, how delightful!” The Hogfly sang, taking no notice of Red’s confusion. 

 

It was then, in the same silver light of the moon, that Red saw something flicker for a moment.

 

He blinked, trying to process what it was he had seen, and then it flickered again. It was so fast, for just a moment was the outline there, but it was unmistakable. It was the outline of a dragon. A much, much larger dragon than the Hogfly. A dragon that could blink in and out of existence in just a second leaving you wondering if it had ever been there at all. 

 

Red had just been reading about such a dragon, how lucky was that. 

 

A Changewing. 

 

‘Oh dear,’ Red thought to himself, beginning to panic slightly, ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear’. 

 

The Hogfly must have been out for a moonlight flight and his shiny violet scales had caught the attention of a pack of Changewings. And then, the dear, stupid little Hogfly had lured them back to camp, thinking that their hunting him was all just a silly little game. It was obvious the Changewings were just toying with him, they could’ve hunted him out of the sky any time they wanted, but unfortunately, like cats, dragons could have a bit of a cruel streak and on occasion they liked to play with their food.

 

This was not good.  

 

He danced on one foot and then the other as he rapidly thought back to what he had just read. 

 

“Changewings are pack hunters which use camouflage to become nearly invisible… spit highly corrosive acid… hypnotic eyes… enjoy mimicry and are easily distracted…”

 

‘Alright, good basics,’ Red thought, as he tried to quickly think up a plan. The first and most obvious move would be to lure them out of the Edge. To wake up the others might set off the pack and it would surely devolve into chaos with a bunch of alarmed Vikings and their dragons joining the fray. Right now, their attention was drawn to the Hogfly whom they seemed to be chasing, he would just have to use that to his advantage. 

 

He would also have to make sure not to set off the sentry dragons, the Night Terrors, who at the moment were currently sleeping off their midnight meal. According to Hiccup’s notes, the Night Terrors could make a formation which in theory would scare the Changewings off, but without knowing just how many Changewings had entered the outpost or where they were… A lot of damage and violence might ensue if they were suddenly to be startled and called into action. So, he would have to play the Changewing’s own game- stealth and trickery. 

 

“Hogfly!” Red hissed, “Don’t you think this game would be more fun out in the woods!?”

 

“The woods?”

 

“Yes, with all the trees and rocks to hide behind, it would be a much better time!”

 

“Ah the woods, I’ve always loved the woods, haven’t I mother! Let’s go play in the woods!” The Hogfly changed direction and began to call out to the other dragons in a sing-song voice, “Oh lovely friends, let’s all dance together shall we! Let’s have teatime in the woods! I want to be the teapot! Can’t catch me!” 

 

Red saw the outline of one Changewing which had begun to materialize down by the food stores. It had been sticking its neck in through the window and snuffling around when its attention had been caught by the singing Hogfly. It cocked its head, its slitted pupils whirring for a second before it slunk forward after him, fading away once again into the night. 

 

“Yes, yes Hogfly,” Red encouraged, “Sing! Let them hear your lovely voice!”

 

“Oh, I love singing!” The Hogfly wagged his tail.

 

“Funny friends, you can’t catch me!

Oh, what fun, what fun hee hee,

One and two and up and down

Swirly eyes, let’s all write books!”

 

The song didn’t make much sense and the Hogfly followed it up with plenty of strange burbling and humming sounds that not even Dragonese could account for, but it did the job of capturing the Changewing’s attention. 

 

“Funny friends, you can’t catch me!

I’ve got no eyes, and I can’t see.

All around we jump and-

 

“WHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

 

The Hogfly suddenly let out a loud shriek as it went flying out into the night, rocketing through the air far faster than Red had ever seen him fly.

 

A Changewing appeared where the little dragon had been mere moments ago, looking absolutely dumbfounded before it shot off into the air after him. What must have happened is that the Changewing had gone to take a bite out of the Hogfly’s flank, but in his ballooned state, his teeth couldn’t quite pierce the armor and the pressure of his jaws on the Hogfly’s slippery body had sent the poor little creature flying like a cork out of a bottle. 

 

All at once, all the Changewings in the outpost materialized. Like large, wicked cats they had been enjoying hunting their prey, toying with it, but now that it had gone flying, their kill instincts had been engaged. Gone was the need for stealth, gone was any pretense, they were on the hunt. They took to the skies and charged, bolting after the poor little Hogfly who was still under the innocent belief that this was all just a game. 

 

“Oh dear!” Red exclaimed and took off running after them, only stopping to grab a sword, a bow and some arrows from the arena down below.

 

This had not exactly been part of the plan. He had hoped to lure them out quietly and without much incident. He would then have summoned the Night Terrors and, gathered all at once and clear of the outpost, the Changewings would have safely been on their way, no damage done to either party. 

 

He had not accounted for the Hogfly to turn into a little dragon rocket. He could hear him screaming even now as again and again, the Changewings tried to grab hold of him in their jaws only to send him flying in all different directions. 

 

“Hold on, Hogfly!” Red shouted as he tore through the trees, “I’m coming!!”

 

Unfortunately, his small human legs were not quite fast enough to keep up with the charging dragons; on the other hand, his loud human voice, which had grown significantly better at yelling over the years, was definitely enough to wake the Night Terrors.

 

"Smidvarg! Smidvarg wake up!!" He screamed as he tore through the trees, gaining several new scratches and gashes across his face and arms. 

 

If the slight ruckus before hadn't been enough, then the sound of Red's shrill voice was. He heard the distinct sound of dozens of dragons rising from their sleep and taking to the skies in a rush. They amassed altogether in the form of a large dragon, syncing their actions beautifully so that it truly did appear as though one large beast flew before him. Red had to admit it was impressive, he had never seen anything quite like it before.

 

The Changewings froze midair, all turning to see what the commotion was and standing still for a brief moment as terror seized them. Red could see in the jaws of one of them The Hogfly who was giggling as the Changewing gnawed on him to no avail. 

 

"Oh, you're quite good at this game, your teeth are so tickly stop it!!" Red could hear him faintly in the silence.

 

"Yes, yes yes!!" Red cheered silently, waiting for the Changewings to give up on their game and take off.

 

Red's plan might have worked if it hadn't been for the Changewing chewing on the Hogfly. 

 

At the sight of the monstrous beast before it, it went tense with fear and shock, which might have normally been good for Red's plan. Unfortunately, this particular Changewing had a slippery wriggling ball called a Hogfly between its teeth and when its jaw clenched in its fear reaction, the slippery little Hogfly again went rocketing out of its mouth.

 

Again, you might've thought that would be a good thing, and it would have been if not for the fact that the Changewing happened to be facing the Night Terrors and by complete unfortunate chance, the trajectory of his jaws happened to be aimed directly at Smidvarg.

 

Red watched, as if in slow motion, the little violet dragon, gleaming with the light of the full moon, rocketed at 90 miles an hour directly into the face of the surprised Smidvarg. The poor white dragon, having taken a projectile half the size of its body directly to the head, fainted dead away, plummeting to the forest below.

 

There was dead silence.

 

Then all Hel broke loose.

 

Without their leader, the synchronization of the Night Terrors fell apart, and the illusion of the large dragon faded away. The Changewings on the other hand now had before them dozens of small and confused dragons and they could only think one thing: Dinner.

 

In less than an instant, the tables had been turned and instead of running in terror, the Changewings were regrouping and charging after the Night Terrors who began screaming in abject fear. 

 

"Great God Woden, why do you hate me!?" Red screamed as he watched the utter pandemonium above him as his plan utterly fell apart.

 

"Night Terrors!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, "Fly to the Edge! Wake the Riders! They will help you!" This was what Red had been hoping to avoid but it was too late now. The Night Terrors were in serious trouble and any hope of resolving this peacefully had flown out the window.

 

He drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Remembering his lessons with Astrid, he took aim and hit one Changewing squarely in the wing. The creature roared and plummeted into the trees.

 

"To the Edge!! To the Edge!!" He continued shouting in Dragonese, firing arrow after arrow. Many of his attacks hit but did little to deter the Changewings who were drunk on the thrill of the hunt. His arrows, while painful, did little to chase them away from what to them must have seemed to be a feast laid out before them by the gods themselves.

 

It took several more minutes of his screaming before the confused and dazed Night Terrors finally took heed and began flying back to the Edge. Many of them however, still confused without their leader, began flying in the completely opposite direction and the Changewings took after in delighted pursuit.

 

"Oh, bouncing buttocks of beaming Baldur!!" Red hissed under his breath. 

 

He tried to follow after them, letting arrows fly when he could but it was little use. He was far too small to keep up with the chase. In desperation, he let loose one last arrow at the trio of Changewings that flew after the Night Terrors.

 

Perhaps Woden did feel a little guilty about the whole incident after all, because the arrow sailed beautifully through the air in a graceful arc and landed smack dab in the leading Changewing's bottom. The creature let out a roar of indignation and pain as there is nothing quite so painfully humiliating as being shot in the ass by a tiny human child and whirled around to glare at him.

 

Perhaps Woden wasn't feeling quite so guilty as Red had thought for now instead of chasing the Night Terrors it now had its sights set solely on Red himself. 

 

"Oh dear," Red decided it was time to run. He took off through the brush but before he had made it even several yards to the safety of the denser forest, he felt angry claws digging into his shoulder and with a scream he was lifted up, up above the treetops and away from the precious earth below. 

 

The dragon carried Red up to where the other two dragons were waiting and without warning, it flung poor Red through the air. Another Changewing swooped forward and caught him expertly and Red slowly realized what they were doing. They had lost their original plaything, the Hogfly, so they had decided to use him instead.

 

And so it continued, Red was dragged and tossed about through the air, his throat growing hoarse from screaming as the Changewings had their fun. It was only a matter of time before they tired of their game and made a swift meal of him. Or if he was unlucky, it wouldn't be so swift as they seemed to enjoy the misery of their prey, especially one who had been shooting their bottoms with arrows for the past ten minutes.

 

One Changewing who was having a blast with the whole thing, caught Red with its tail and in one quick motion sent Red flying directly up into the night sky. It was the most graceful and controlled toss of the whole game and now that he wasn't somersaulting through the air, he took his chance. In one graceful move he unslung the bow from his back, nocked an arrow and as he began to plummet down towards the Changewing flying up to catch him, he took aim and fired. The arrow sank deep through the dragon's eye killing it instantly. 

 

The other two dragons, stunned by their leader's death, did nothing but watch as both Red and the dragon plummeted down the cliffside where their game had led them and down towards the black waters below.

 

Surely this would mean death for Red, a fall from this height, even into the sea below, would break all his bones as if they were made of glass. But it was as if the gods, much like the Changewings before, were toying with him and they didn't quite yet want to see their toy broken. A small tree, much in the shape of a large hand, happened to be growing from a small nook in the Cliffside and by sheer luck and coincidence the very edge of its branches seemed to reach out and catch the back of Red's tunic.

 

With a sudden yank, the boy's fall came to an abrupt stop, and he hung there from the branches like a broken puppet.

 

As he dangled there Red glared up at the sky above and the distant dark clouds that rumbled gently with thunder. From this distance, it was easy to mistake the sound for a low rumbling chuckle.

 

Thor was laughing at him. 

 

Red had the distinct feeling that this wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last time the gods made a mockery of his suffering.

Notes:

I figured it was about time that Red's terrible habit of finding trouble kicked in. Things were going a little too smoothly all things considered.

I do like to think, being an accident of fate, that the gods really do have it out for Book!Hiccup, especially Thor whom he has challenged and impersonated, I think he took that one personally. It's the only way to explain all the just absolutely terrible luck he has only for fate to just barely play in his favor. Like he literally wasn't supposed to be born, he threw a wrench into the god's plans and changed the course of history just by existing. His name literally means 'accident' in Dragonese. Poor kid.

Chapter 11: Oh Dear, We May Have Lost the Child

Summary:

The camp wakes up to sheer chaos and realizes Red's absence.

Notes:

Hi! I'm so sorry for the long wait and the literal cliffhanger I left you all on! Truly sorry about that. That was absolutely not my intention. Time flew by way faster than I realized and I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last updated. Again I'm really sorry. Blame ADHD and writer's block, but other than that there's not much of an excuse. Just know I haven't forgotten this fic and I am working on it. Just a bit slower than before. Hopefully I can get the next chapter up in a timely manner, but I can't make any promises.

Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy.

There were few things Hiccup enjoyed less than being awoken in the middle of the night by the shrill shrieks of dragon calls and the general chaotic sounds of a dragon attack. Granted, it was something he was fairly used to, but for Thor’s sake, he just wanted to get some sleep after a long day. Was that too much to ask? 

 

Apparently, it was, as he was brought to consciousness abruptly by a loud scream from outside his hut. Instinctually, he leaped to his feet, whipping his head around wildly before rushing outside to see the scene of utter pandemonium before him. Toothless followed close behind, ready to pounce at whatever dangers lay beyond their door. Neither of them were quite prepared for the sight.

 

All around the Edge were dozens of Night Terrors screaming at the top of their lungs as they swooped and dived and rolled through the air, narrowly avoiding death at the snapping drooling jaws of the Changewings gleefully chasing after them. Hiccup let out a shout of alarm as he jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding a stream of green steaming acid that had missed its intended target and was barreling straight towards him. 

 

“What in the world!?” Hiccup blinked several times, his brain still waking up and struggling somewhat to comprehend what was happening. 

 

“Hiccup!” He turned to see Heather, Astrid, and Fishlegs running towards him.

 

“What the heck is going on!?”

 

“I have no idea!” Hiccup shouted over the din, “It looks like the Changewings are going on a midnight hunt!”

 

“But what about the Night Terrors?” Fishlegs chimed in nervously, “Why aren’t they taking formation?”

 

Hiccup frowned; he had been wondering the exact same thing. This was certainly unusual. In fact, it had him quite worried, but they didn’t have time to dwell on that. They had to take control of the situation before any of the Night Terrors got hurt. 

 

“Let’s chase off those Changewings, then we can determine what went wrong.”

 

The other riders nodded and quickly ran to mount their dragons, alerting Snotlout and the Twins to the plan. 

 

It wasn’t difficult to take care of the situation, really. Changewings weren’t the most aggressive or violent dragons and once they came across something bigger or scarier than them, they were ready to flee the scene. So, six riders on some of the fiercest dragons in the archipelago were more than enough to send them packing. A few attempted to make a stand, but it wasn’t long before they lost their resolve and took off after their packmates.

 

Soon enough, the chaos of the night settled as the exhausted Night Terrors perched upon the rooftops of the Edge, winded and catching their breath in the quiet. The riders, too, quickly landed and dismounted from their dragons, gathering around to try and make sense of what had just happened. 

 

“What on earth was that all about?” Astrid asked, brushing her bangs out her eyes and folding her arms to her chest. 

 

“Yeah, it’s like the middle of the night, I was trying to put Chicken to bed and now look at her!” Tuffnut held up the small chicken, who somehow managed to look somewhat groggy for a bird, “Her feathers are ruffled! This is blasphemy!”

 

“Why didn’t the Night Terrors make their formation?” Fishlegs said, ignoring Tuffnut’s ramblings, his face was awash with concern, “Do you think something happened?”

 

“The last time something like this happened it was because Smidvarg was out of commission…” Hiccup thought aloud, his concern worsening, “Did something happen to him?” 

 

They all glanced around the Edge and at all the Night Terrors perched on the buildings, scanning through the flock hoping to see the pale scales that marked Smidvarg as the leader. They had no such luck.

 

“I don’t see him…”

 

“Yeah, me neither…”

 

“Oh, there he is!” Tuffnut exclaimed excitedly pointing off to the distance.

 

“That’s a seagull, Tuffnut,” Fishlegs sighed. 

 

“That’s what he wants you to think,” Tuffnut muttered, shaking his head.

 

“He might be hurt,” Hiccup finally said, “We should head out and search the island. Snotlout, you stay behind to deal with any Changewings who might come back, the rest of us will head out and look for Smidvarg.”

 

“Ugh, watch duty again, seriously?” Snotlout grumbled.

 

“Actually, Hiccup,” Heather interjected, “I should go check on Red, with all the chaos and his generally jumpy nature, I just want to make sure he’s not too freaked out.”

 

“Right,” Hiccup nodded, “That’s a good point, Heather, he’s probably scared out of his mind right now.”

 

“Thanks, Hiccup,” Heather smiled appreciatively, “I’ll keep him company, make sure he’s not alone if anything else happens.” She turned and started making the trek towards the hut they had given Red.

 

“And what about us,” Astrid said, “Where should we begin, the island’s pretty large and we don’t have a single clue as to where he could be.” 

 

“Well, we’ll have to start somewhere, it’ll be easier if we split up…” Hiccup paused for a moment thinking through a plan, “Astrid and I will head west, Fishlegs, you check the north side of the island, and Ruff, Tuff you two head east. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

 

The riders nodded, accepting their tasks. They were about to mount their dragons once more when a sudden cry stopped them in their tracks. 

 

Hiccup glanced up in surprise to see Heather running back down from Red’s hut, a look of alarm written clearly across her face. 

 

“What’s wrong Heather!?” Hiccup exclaimed, feeling a pit in his stomach beginning to take shape. 

 

“Red!” she shouted, “He’s gone! I can’t find him anywhere!”

 

“What!?” A chorus of alarm shouted back.

 

“What do you mean you can’t find him!?”

 

“I mean he’s not in his hut and he’s not in the clubhouse, he’s just gone!”

 

“Did you check the stables, last time he panicked he tried to flee on dragonback,” Hiccup suggested.

 

“Maybe he tried to find somewhere to hide?” Fishlegs added.

 

The idea wasn't that ridiculous. Within moments, the group had scattered to search the entirety of the Edge. They searched the stables, and bunks. They scoured the storerooms and the clubhouses. They even checked the arena and the towers. The outpost wasn't large but Red was small and could easily hide in places most people would never think to look. Ruff and Tuff however were not most people so after even they came up empty-handed after nearly twenty minutes of searching, true alarm descended upon the dragon riders. 

 

"Any sign of him?" Hiccup asked as they all reconviened at the center of the outpost. Five heads all shook unanimously in response. 

 

"Nope."

 

"Nothing."

 

"Nada."

 

"Zilch."

 

“Alright, so not only are we looking for Smidvarg, but Red as well.” Hiccup concluded before the twins could continue spouting random synonyms.

 

"This is bad," Heather's brows pulled together, her rising anxiety evident, "You don't think something happened to him, do you?"

 

"I'm sure he's-"

 

"What if he's dead!" Tuffnut interrupted loudly, "What if he was trying to talk to the Changewings to calm them down and they just gobbled him up."

 

"In one bite," Ruffnut chimed in.

 

"Yeah in one bite."

 

"He's definitely dead, poor little guy."

 

"And he never even taught me how to speak to the dragons. Barf, Belch I'm so sorry, we'll never truly be one..."

 

"He's not dead!" Hiccup interrupted before Tuffnut could get truly hooked on the idea. He took a deep breath, "He's out there somewhere, we just have to find him."

 

There was a pause for a moment. The awful idea that Red might actually be hurt hanging in the air, as ridiculous as Tuffnut could be, he wasn't wrong in that Red could have been seriously injured if he encountered a Changewing. 

 

“You don’t think he’s the one that caused all this ruckus do you…?” Astrid said, brow furrowed, her words somewhat hesitant.

 

“You think that scrawny little kid did all of this?” Snotlout scoffed, “No offense but he’s even more pathetic than Hiccup was when he was a kid, there’s no way he could manage to pull that off.”

 

“Hey!” Hiccup frowned, not taking kindly to the remark.

 

“To be fair, when you were younger you did have a habit of making a mess of things all the time,” Hiccup shot Fishlegs a glare, “What I’m just saying,” Fishlegs raised his hands defensively.

 

“Man, if the Red kid could cause this kinda chaos on his own…” Ruffnut shook her head in awe.

 

“Then think of what we could accomplish together!” A wicked grin spread across Tuffnut’s face, “We’ve been looking for an apprentice, a disciple to spread the teachings of Loki to.”

 

“We must show him our ways…” Ruffnut nodded.

 

"If he's alive that is," Tuffnut added quickly, "Because he's probably dead."

 

"Probably."

 

“Enough,” Hiccup raised his hands to shush the others, “Astrid, what makes you think he might be behind this?”

 

“Nothing concrete," she frowned, "But don't you find it a little suspicious that he's missing after all of this? First Smidvarg goes missing, then Red, and then the camp is attacked by Changewings? I'm not saying it was deliberate or even that he was acting maliciously, but doesn't it seem likely that he maybe had something to do with it? I don't want to suspect him, and I trust your judgment, but we have to keep all options on the table."

 

"I understand where you're coming from Astrid, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions," Hiccup replied after a moment of thinking her response over, he knew Astrid was fiercely loyal and had a habit of being overprotective of the people and things she cared about most, "When we find him, we will ask him. I want to hear from him what happened. But first, we have to make sure he's okay."

 

Astrid was silent for a moment, a small frown pulling at the corners of her lips, but after contemplating what he had said, she nodded. 

 

"You're right, of course, we'll find him first and sort everything out later."

 

"Thanks Astrid," Hiccup gave her a reassuring smile, "Alright everyone," he said turning his attention to the rest of the group, "We'll follow the established plan. Astrid and I to the west, Ruff and Tuff to the east, and Heather you can join Fishlegs to the north."

 

Hiccup gave everyone a moment to process the instructions before shouting, "Now let's head out!"

 

With a new sense of urgency, the six riders took the skies in their prospective directions.  The search for Red had begun.

 

Notes:

Sorry this chapter feels a bit short to me. I have another fairly short chapter after this one, but after that they should be a bit longer. I don't know how I feel about this one, especially since it took so long to write. Mainly just keeping everyone in character is what I'm most concerned about honestly. I get in my own way sometimes and that leads to this whole process being a lot slower than it should. But it's been several months now so I figured I should just go ahead and post it. So sorry if it's a bit anticlimactic after such a long wait. New chapters will be coming, eventually anyway, I promise!

Chapter 12: Meanwhile at the Bottom of The Ocean

Summary:

Meanwhile at the bottom of the ocean...

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the ocean, Red was having quite possibly the worst day of his entire life. That was, in the entirety of the life he remembered, which wasn't much, but considering all that it had happened so far, it was saying something. And, alright, perhaps 'at the bottom of the ocean' was a bit of a stretch. To be more accurate, it was 'deep beneath the ocean in an endless labyrinth of sea tunnels held captive by a dragon' which in all honesty wasn't much better. 

 

As for how he had gotten there, it had happened about forty-five minutes after getting caught on the tree dangling over the cliff. He had begun to think that perhaps he would be stuck there for the rest of time and all that would be left of him was a little scraggly skeleton, and he had begun to make peace with that idea when he had heard a strange scratching sound from behind him. He hadn't thought much about it at first, thinking it was just the sound of the wind rustling bare branches of the tree he was caught in, but the persistent rhythm of it caused him to turn and look. He wished he could say he was surprised to see a dragon climbing down the cliffside to meet him, but honestly, the whole affair earlier had robbed him of any sense of astonishment and rather had put him in a somewhat sour mood. 

 

"I suppose you're here to finish me off then?" He glared at the straggling changewing who cocked its head slightly in curiosity at being addressed by a human, "Well, go on then, get on with it, don't keep me waiting."

 

The dragon stared at him for several seconds before seeming to make up its mind. Without warning it had leaped, and Red, who had been bracing himself for the killing blow didn't even flinch.

 

What had caught him by surprise, was instead of striking him with its claws or ripping out his throat with its teeth, it instead barreled into him at full speed and then began plummeting down towards the sea below, clutching him to its chest. That had elicited a scream out of him before they plunged into the freezing waters. For several moments, Red really thought that this would be where he met his end, drowned to death at the bottom of the sea in the clutches of an insane dragon. That was before the creature veered suddenly to the side, back towards the cliff face and into a small cavern that had been carved into the side below the waves. It took several minutes of wandering through the tunnels, and Red nearly thought he would pass out before finally, the dragon burst out into an air pocket. 

 

It had carried him gently over to a strange pile of discarded metallic objects and seaweed and plopped him down atop it. Red had sat there, stunned for several moments before looking up at the dragon in bewilderment. It stared for several moments, its eyes beginning to spin in a hypnotic motion, an odd thing for it to do considering all dragons by default had a hypnotic gaze, but it pressed its face close to his, ensuring their eyes met. Red was too stunned to consider looking away, and right as he began to feel dizzy, he heard the first word he had heard the dragon utter 'Mine!"

 

Red couldn't even consider arguing. He just nodded, before the dragon, seeming satisfied with that response, spun in a circle like a giant cat before settling to rest and plopping itself down on the stony floor of the sea cavern. Several moments later, the entire cave was rumbling with the gentle sounds of its snoring. 

 

It took several seconds for the dizzy spell to pass and for Red to process what had just happened. 

 

'Well this is just great,' he thought, laughing to himself, somewhat hysterically, 'I just became a Changewing's pet!'. 

Notes:

And Red's situation somehow got even stranger. How does he do it?

Anyway sorry this one's a bit short. The next chapter should be out soonish.

As always thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 13: The Hunt for Red

Summary:

The search for Red comes to a head as the Riders try to make sense of the night's events.

The Isle of Dragon's Edge was not an especially large land formation. It was large enough to host their outpost, some lovely cliffsides, a sparse forest, and some smallish cave systems but it was hardly large enough for a full settlement of people. It certainly wasn't large enough for a small boy to seemingly vanish into thin air. If Red was on the island, they would find him. Especially with the help of a certain tracker class dragon, it should be fairly easy to locate him. With his small frame, short legs, and his generally weak disposition, it was difficult to imagine he could have gotten very far.

 

Which was why even after several hours of searching turned up nothing, Hiccup began to feel a bit worried.

 

It all started, of course, with the discovery of Smidvarg.

 

He had been relatively easy to find, taking Astrid and Hiccup only about fifteen minutes of searching the nearby brush. His small unconscious form was recovered only within a quarter kilometer of the camp. They had almost completely missed him at first, his small form concealed by the sparse shrubbery he had seemingly landed in. It was lucky he had landed there as well as it seemed he had already taken a knock to the head and any additional injury could have ended very poorly for the small dragon. It had been the silver light of the moon reflecting off his pale scales that gave him away, the faint glinting catching the corner of their eyes as they flew overhead.

 

Within minutes of finding him, the little white Night Terror was up and in the air, clearly a bit upset about the whole situation but well enough to return to his flock with little issue. That was in itself of great relief to Hiccup and Astrid who at first had mistaken the sleeping dragon for a corpse. Nervously, they had leaned over the little dragon, only for him to open his eyes with an outraged squawk. He quickly righted himself, took in his surroundings, stretched out his wings, and took off before either of them even had a chance to properly assess his injuries. This in itself was a good sign, if the little dragon felt he was well enough to fly and seemed to do so with little issue, chances were that his condition was fairly stable and with a little rest he would be back to full health.

 

Things only went downhill from there, however.

 

Hiccup was watching the little dragon disappear from sight, growing smaller and smaller as he vanished into the distance when his silent train of thought was interrupted by a cry from behind him. 

 

"Hiccup!"

 

It was Astrid of course. She had wandered off somewhat and was kneeling down in a clearing several feet away, her back to him as she examined something on the forest floor. Stormfly stood beside her, sniffing the air as if trying to catch a scent. Curiosity piqued, Hiccup moved to join her, anxiety returning at the apprehension in her voice. Wordlessly, he knelt beside her to get a look at whatever it was that she had called him to see.

 

"An arrow?" the shaft was broken, the arrowhead lost, leaving only the fletching, "One of the Dragon Hunter's?"

 

She shook her head, "It's one of ours, you can tell from the feathers."

 

She was right. They did have the signature look of the standard arrow used by the people of Berk. Which meant one of them had to have fired it. Perhaps during training?

 

"This isn't the only one," she turned to look at him before gesturing to the larger clearing around them, "There are several more scattered across the whole area."

 

Hiccup followed her movement, eyes scanning the clearing as if for the first time. She was right. There were a handful of arrows littered across the floor as well as lodged into trees. Several were broken as though they had been trampled or perhaps had been broken off as they hit their targets. The tops of the trees were damaged, as though something large had been flying by at a low level and crashed through them. It was the trace signature of a battle or rather a small skirmish. Hiccup's brow creased. He didn't like this one bit.

 

"And look here," Astrid drew his attention back to the earth, "footprints in the mud, faint, but definitely there. Someone small and light ran through this clearing."

 

"Red!" Hiccup realized and Astrid nodded, her expression grim.

 

"But what was he doing out here on his own?"

 

A short silence fell over them for a moment, as a sudden thought struck him.

 

"...You don't think that he might have tried to fight off the Changewings on his own, do you?" he paused for a moment, strongly disliking the thought and finding it just a bit difficult to picture, "But why? Red doesn't exactly strike me as a fighter."

 

"I don't know," Astrid frowned, "But these footprints are undeniably his." She ran a hand over the light tracks in the mud again, as if confirming for herself just one more time, "And I wouldn't underestimate him, despite all appearances he is a surprisingly skilled warrior. Besides, he was training with a bow just a few days ago in the arena, so he definitely knows how to use one. And he's not a bad shot either..."

 

"Perhaps the attack spooked him, many other tribes are still at war with the dragons..." It wasn't an unreasonable thought. It wasn't so long ago that Hiccup and Astrid would wake up in the dead of night to a hoard of dragons attacking their village as well. And it wasn't uncommon for them to retaliate with whatever weapons they could. Though Hiccup of course had never been any good at it, which was for the better in the long run. It wasn't hard to conceive that Red wouldn't have instinctually done the same, raised with the same animosity that most Vikings had towards dragons. 

 

Still, it was hard to imagine that scrawny little Red of all people, who seemed to have a natural affinity for dragons would react so strongly. Though he had been through a lot... perhaps it had set him off somehow, perhaps he wasn't quite in his right mind at the time. Toothless seemed to pick up on the conversation and seemed equally put off by the idea, his ears flattening slightly and letting out a small whine of discontent. Hiccup smiled and gently reassured him, scratching behind the ears to cheer him a bit. 

 

"Can you follow where the tracks lead?" Hiccup asked after Astrid didn't answer his previous question. 

 

"It looks like they head further to the west," she answered, "Even if we lose them, I think Stormfly has his scent." 

 

She gestured to the dragon beside her who was now staring directly westward, her eyes keen and waiting for them to start the hunt. Hiccup nodded.

 

"Let's go then."

 

So, the four of them began the slow work of trailing after the confusing signs of battle. Red's stride was long and uneven, as though he had been blindly running and stumbling through the forest in a panic, painting an even further unsettling image in their minds as they followed after it. In several of the branches, they found small traces of fabric, ripped from his clothes as he tore through it, only further confirming their hypothesis. As they continued the picture that was being painted only seemed to grow clearer and it wasn't a pretty one. 

 

A faint keening noise caught their attention. They stopped in their tracks, scanning the tree line for the source of the sound. There was silence for a moment before the same broken whimper echoed off the trees, sounding faintly louder this time. 

 

"Hiccup look!" Astrid pointed to their right. It took him several seconds to make out what she was looking at. The night was still dark, with only the light of the moon guiding them, but as she followed the downward arc of her finger the image became clear. The broken tops of the trees he had noticed before ended and a diagonal line of broken branches indicated a large something plummeting down to the earth through the forest. It wasn't hard to guess what it could be. A downed dragon. 

 

Without another word, the two of them raced forward, scanning the forest floor for any signs of where it had landed. Hiccup felt a horrid sense of deja vu, his mind flashing back to several years ago when he had been in a situation horribly similar to this one. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind, focusing all of his effort on finding the injured dragon. The fact that it was most likely a changewing, did not make this very easy. However, while the dragon may be invisible, the signs of its impact were not, and after only a few minutes they were able to locate the probable landing zone. Several moments later they were proven right, as the unmistakable outline of the dragon flashed into view before rapidly fading away again. 

 

They had found it all right. Now all they had to do was approach it without startling it. Hiccup waited several moments, allowing himself to enter the Changewings field of view before letting out a gentle keening sound not too dissimilar from the one the Changewing itself had made. Mimicry was always the best choice of action to catch the attention of these dragons. He held his hands up in a nonthreatening manner and Astrid to his side, did the same. Stormfly and Toothless hung back several paces, maintaining aloof body gestures that indicated a lack of aggression, but their eyes were firmly trained on the injured animal, their protective instincts ready to drive them to action should the need arise. They were well familiar with the song and dance of meeting a new dragon, especially a scared and injured one. 

 

The Changewing responded near instantaneously, shedding its camouflage and turning its head to stare at the intruders. It let out a low growling sound and narrowed its eyes, but it made no aggressive move to attack them. Hiccup took this as a relatively good sign, and raised his hands up higher, emphasizing the lack of threat he posed. 

 

"Hey, it's okay," he said in a soothing tone, "We're not gonna harm you, we're here to help."

 

The intelligence of dragons cannot be underestimated. Whether or not they could understand human speech was debatable, but they were surprisingly well-skilled in reading human body language and understanding tone. Hiccup's calming words and gentle tone seemed to have the appropriate effect on the Changewing. It lowered its guard somewhat, allowing the both of them to come closer. Its eyes were still wary, and Hiccup was well aware that one wrong move could prove disastrous. Slowly, very slowly, Hiccup reached into the pouch at his waist where he stored a small supply of fish and dragon nip he kept both for situations such as this and as treats for Toothless. The dragon watched his every move as he slowly and deliberately pulled out a small scrap of fish. Once he was sure it wouldn't startle the dragon, he offered it forward, drawing close enough that the Changewing could reach for it. It stared at the offering suspiciously for several seconds before greedily scarfing it down, the small treat allowing the dragon to calm down enough that Hiccup and Astrid could approach. It sat there calmly as Hiccup gently patted its snout and stroked its hide. 

 

"We should be safe to examine him now," Hiccup said when he determined that the dragon was suitably pacified. 

 

"I'll go ahead and take a look at his wings while you keep him calm," Astrid replied, and Hiccup nodded, keeping his attention on the injured dragon. 

 

It took only a few glances for Astrid to recognize the arrow lodged in the soft hide of the dragon's wing. It was a superficial wound, but enough to stun the dragon out of the sky. The real damage came from the fall itself, the unforgiving branches tearing through the changewings thin skin and the landing likely causing some internal bruising. The worst of it was the dragon's hind leg which had firmly lodged itself in a tangle of roots which immediately gave an explanation as to why it hadn't fled the scene to find a safe place to heal. It was stuck. It took a lot of coaxing and soothing from Hiccup for Astrid to be able to reach up and remove the arrow still lodged in the dragon's wing. As Astrid held the broken shaft of the arrow in her hand, she felt a rush of anger and disbelief. How could Red do such a thing when he claimed to be a lover of dragons as they were? A much wiser and charitable part of her mind had to remind her that Red was still a boy, and he was likely just acting in what he thought was self-defense. It helped to calm her rage, but she still felt it simmering slightly at the back of her mind. 

 

To free the Changewing from the roots, they had Toothless release a small, controlled plasma blast at the root system, far enough away from the dragon's leg that it wouldn't harm him. As soon as the tangled roots exploded free, the Changewing let out a loud trill of excitement. Without waiting a second longer, it leaped up into the air, its wing strong enough still to support its weight, and took off into the night to search for his pack. Hiccup and Astrid watched him go, glad that they were able to help the ailing creature. They hoped he made it back safely. 

 

Once he was gone from their sight, Astrid turned to Hiccup and held out the broken pieces of the arrow. 

 

"Red..." Hiccup sighed and shook his head, a sense of disappointment rising within him. He tried not to be too angry with the kid, but he couldn't help but feel a bit let down. 

 

"Looks like it," Astrid said, the mutual frustration was evident. 

 

"We're going to have to have a talk when we find him," Hiccup shook his head, "He has to know that this is unacceptable. Not only that he hurt a dragon, but that he even thought to fight them on his own in the first place. Honestly, what was he thinking!?"

 

It seemed that the initial frustration Hiccup had felt was giving way to genuine anger, "It's incredibly dangerous and reckless! Not only did he hurt a dragon, but chances are he got himself hurt in the process! Why on earth didn't he come to us for help? Why did he run off on his own?"

 

"We'll find out when we find him," Astrid put a hand on his shoulder, she didn't like seeing him getting upset like this. The anxiety underneath it all was obvious. The fact that they had yet to find Red was clearly eating at him, and if she was being honest, she was beginning to grow worried as well. The complete absence of the boy was a bit alarming and as the minutes ticked on, it was becoming increasingly unlikely that they would find him at all, let alone in good health. 

 

"Right," Hiccup sighed, tucking the broken arrow pieces away. This was no time to lose his head. They had to find Red before something bad happened to him. 

 

"Where do the tracks lead?" he asked, and Astrid led them back to the faint trail of footsteps that they had been tracking throughout the night. Once she had reestablished them, they began their steady march to the west. 

 

Not too long after, Astrid suddenly stopped in her tracks. An expression of confusion etched itself into her face as she suddenly doubled back and began walking, several feet the way they just came before she came again to a sudden halt. 

 

"This doesn't make sense..."

 

"What is it?" Hiccup asked.

 

"Look," she gestured to the earth, "The tracks turn back this way, and then they just... stop."

 

He examined the ground and saw exactly what she meant. The small stretch of ground they just walked past had two sets of tracks running in opposite directions. Then abruptly, as though the individual had simply vanished, the tracks ended. It was concerning to say the least. There was only one possible explanation that Hiccup could think of for why that might happen, and it wasn't good. He felt his stomach drop. Astrid seemed to come to the exact same conclusion that he had. 

 

"We have to move, and fast," Hiccup said, rushing to mount Toothless, "You said Stormfly had his scent, right?"

 

"Yes," Astrid said, climbing atop the Deadly Nadder, "She'll be able to find him, wherever they took him."

 

"Good, it's almost been three hours since the Changewing attack, there's a slim chance he's still out there, and we need to find him now!" Hiccup did his best to hold on to hope, but it wasn't looking good. He had to hope that the Changewing tendency to play with their food had bought them some time but even then... He shook his head, they couldn't think like this. They had no time to waste. 

 

Silently they took off into the night, Astrid giving the command to Stormfly to track Red's scent. They sped off as fast as they could, covering the rest of the island in less than a few minutes. Suddenly, Stormfly veered to the north, settling into a spiral as she honed in on the trail. If Red was still alive, then he was close. But Hiccup only felt his worry worsen as he peered below and saw nothing but an empty cliff face. Hiccup expected the Nadder to slowly lower them down until they landed on the cliff's edge. Instead, she spiraled past it and continued down, down until suddenly she stopped, hovering halfway down the cliffside above the water. Hiccup and Toothless flew down to join them, confused as to why they had stopped. 

 

"What's going on?" Hiccup called, "Has she lost the scent?"

 

"I don't know," Astrid responded, patting Stormfly's flank, "What is it, girl? Where's Red?"

 

Stormfly let out a small click of annoyance, flew around in a circle before coming to a stop not too far away from where they had initially paused in the air. She then let out a frustrated whine as if irritated that neither of them understood what she was trying to say.

 

"I think..." Astrid said slowly, trying to interpret just what Stormfly was trying to communicate, "I think she's trying to tell us that we found him."

 

"That makes no sense," Hiccup replied, furrowing his brow, "We're just hovering over the ocean, you can't mean that-" 

 

He cut himself off as a realization dawned on him. He peered down at the waters below, not particularly rough but not particularly kind either. The height was immense as well, certainly enough to kill anyone who fell from the cliffside. 

 

"Oh no..." his face went a little pale. Without thinking, he urged Toothless forward with a shout, "Toothless, dive!!" 

 

The dragon obeyed, taking them into a steep dive straight into the ocean. Before hitting the surface, he heard Astrid's shout of alarm which was quickly silenced as everything was muffled by the roaring of the sea. 

 

Toothless took him down, down into the briny depths. The water was freezing cold and as black as pitch. His ears popped as Toothless swam deeper and deeper. His eyes burned, but he forced them open, searching desperately for the small boy he knew had to still be alive. He was still alive. Hiccup swore to the gods themselves that if anything were to have happened to this boy then he would never forgive them. It was only when he felt himself growing dizzy for lack of air that he returned to the surface.

 

The two of them burst out of the waves with a gasp. He barely took a moment to catch his breath before he urged Toothless back under. He heard Astrid once again calling for him as his head disappeared beneath the waves. He wasn't sure how long he searched the deep, frantically and blindly swimming back and forth along the cliff's edge. It wasn't until surfaced two more times that he finally gave up. He burst from the water, one final time with a loud gasp, coughing slightly as water had made its way up his nose and into his lungs. He took several deep breaths, readying to go back one final time when Astrid's voice finally reached him. 

 

"Hiccup," Astrid's voice was sad, but firm, "Hiccup, there's no way you're going to find him. The current is strong, and he has been missing for hours."

 

"You don't know that!" He snapped, rubbing the saltwater from his brow and pushing his hair out of his eyes, "He could still be out there, I'm not going to stop until we find him, I'll-"

 

"Hiccup!" she called sharply, before softening again, "I'm sorry, but he's gone..."

 

There were a tense few moments of silence between the two before Hiccup acknowledged that she was correct. His face twisted into a grimace, and he slammed his fist down onto his thigh with a harsh cry of "Dammit!!" 

 

Astrid said nothing as he let out a growl of frustration, letting him process the terrible realization. 

 

"Stupid kid!" he shouted, "What the Hel was he thinking, running off in the night like that! Idiot! Idiot!" Though it was clear the words were more directed towards himself. Furiously he tore up towards the cliffside, landing on the edge, where he dismounted. He kicked uselessly at the grass as he vented his frustration, let out several shouts, running his hands through his damp hair, pacing back and forth. 

 

"We should have noticed he was gone sooner, started the search immediately! We should have known something was wrong the second the Changewings showed up at the Edge!!" he continued to shout into the night. Berating both his own stupidity as well as Red's, furious that the kid would run off only to get himself killed like that. But mostly he was just angry at himself, for letting this happen under his watch. He was the one who was responsible here, he had been the one to promise to protect the kid, to keep him safe. In one last outburst, he picked up the largest rock he could find, lobbing it into the distance as if throw it at Thor himself, furious that he would let this happen. Then he simply stopped. He froze there, staring off at the writhing sea as he struggled to control his breathing.

 

After several moments, Astrid approached him. She said nothing as she slowly wrapped her arms around him. For a few moments, he stood there rigid, before he finally gave in and leaned into the embrace, letting her presence comfort him. 

 

"I'm sorry, Hiccup," she whispered. 

 

They stood like that for several minutes before Hiccup pulled away, brushing at his eyes, wiping away the tears that had begun to form. 

 

"Sorry Astrid, I lost my head there for a moment," he sniffed and straightened his posture as he tried to regain his composure. Hiccup was never a proponent of trying to look tough or to never let himself express his emotions, but it was different when you were a leader. He couldn't let himself lose himself entirely when others depended on him. It was a skill he was still working on, that he hadn't quite mastered yet, but he would get there someday. Toothless let out a small warble as he gently nudged Hiccup, offering what comfort he could. Hiccup gave him a watery smile as he leaned into it, wrapping his arm around him and leaning his weight into him.

 

Astrid merely shook her head, "It's fine Hiccup, you didn't do anything wrong."

 

He nodded. Another silence fell between them. 

 

"I suppose we'll have to head back to the Edge and inform the others."

 

"I suppose we will," he nodded, then sighed rubbing at his eyes, a sudden feeling of exhaustion overtaking him. This was the kind of news he never wanted to deliver. He took another moment to breathe before regaining his strength.

 

"Let's go," his voice was soft and low. 

 

The short flight back to the Edge was quiet. Neither Hiccup nor Astrid said a word, neither felt there was much left to be said. The silence was only broken once Snotlout caught sight of their return and flew up to meet them with Hookfang. 

 

"Well, look who finally decided to return. It's been ages, the others have all been waiting for hours," he said in his typical self-absorbed demeanor, "So where's the punk, saw you guys found Smidvarg, but I don't see the little twerp with you."

 

When neither of them responded, a hint of worry made its way into his expression, but he quickly suppressed it, "You did find him right?"

 

When again he was met with silence the worry returned to his expression and didn't fade away, "Wait, nothing like, happened right?"

 

"Go find the others Snotlout and tell them to meet us, we have a lot to talk about," Hiccup replied, his voice tired and clearly setting off alarm bells in Snotlout's brain. 

 

"Um... Okay..." he replied, "I'll, uh, I'll go do that then."

 

It didn't take long for Snotlout to summon the others. When everyone was finally gathered together, Hiccup took a deep breath and began to tell them what they had found. They all listened in silence as he described the trail, the injured Changewing, and the cliffside. Finally, they explained their hypothesis, that Red, alarmed by the Changewing attack had fled into the woods and gotten caught in a battle with them where in the end, he ended up falling to his death in the sea. Heather gasped, covering her mouth and Fishlegs' jaw dropped open in shock and dismay, letting out a small '"no" in despair at the news. Even the twins looked solemn upon hearing the news. 

 

"You know, I was kidding before about him being dead," Tuffnut mumbled, "I didn't actually think he was...."

 

"The sun rises in the next half hour," Hiccup said, "We'll hold a small ceremony for him down by the beach when it does."

 

---

 

The ceremony was quite small. They didn't have a body, so they had to resort to sending out an empty boat. They didn't have any memorable physical belongings of his to place in it outside a few pieces of clothing, the dragon hide suit and his necklaces. Those they would keep to return to loved ones. Instead, they took one of their old shields, carved his name into the wood, and laid it at the center of the boat. It wasn't much of a stand in, but it was all they could do. Heather volunteered to fire the arrow. When it came time for them to say a few words for the kid, not many were exchanged. They had hardly known him, so it came down to a small speech from Hiccup that summarized how they all felt about him. 

 

"Red was a good kid. We didn't know him for long, but in that time, he proved himself to have a good heart, a clever mind, and a strong soul. He was a skilled warrior and he had so much to give to the world. We are grateful for the time we spent with him, and we hope that he now lives in the halls of Valhalla as one of the einherjar. Rest well Red, you will be missed."

 

Heather was deeply distraught; she had grown perhaps the closest to Red out of all of them and she couldn't help but shed several tears as Hiccup gave his speech. Windshear was beside her, offering what comfort she could, but it was clear that Heather was going to need some time to recover from this loss. Astrid stood by Hiccup's side, eyes downcast and offering her company as Hiccup took charge of the ceremony. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were oddly silent, not even interrupting as Hiccup spoke. Fishlegs, was holding Meatlug tightly to him, sniffling softly as he lamented the loss of a young life. The other dragons stood not so far from their riders as well, heads bowed as they acknowledged the grim loss of life. The atmosphere was solemn indeed. 

 

Snotlout, meanwhile, spent the majority of the funeral staring down awkwardly at his feet. Obviously, he was saddened by the loss of Red and it was terrible that he had died, but at the same time he had never really gotten to know the kid, so he felt a bit awkward standing there. They had spoken once, maybe twice the entire time he had stayed at the Edge, and he had made it clear that he hadn't liked Snotlout all that much, and always seemed to avoid him. But he wasn't a bad kid, and Snotlout was beginning to regret the fact that he hadn't gotten to know him better now that he was gone. He didn't have much to say however and so he kept to himself as the others watched the small burning ship sail off into the distance. 

 

"Um, p-pardon me," a small voice whispered from behind him.

 

Confused he looked up to see Red's torso floating maybe a few feet off of the ground behind him. His face was pale as snow and his lips had a faint bluish tinge to them. Water dripped off his bright red hair which was half plastered to his head and half stuck out in wild directions as if blown about by gale force winds. He was shivering slightly and his teeth were chattering.

 

Well, that was strange, perhaps Red's death was hitting him harder than he thought. Or perhaps it was his ghost, lingering one last time to say farewell. It was such a surreal sight that Snotlout didn't quite process it, and so instead of freaking out, he calmly responded, "Yeah, what do you want?"

 

"What's g-going on here, has s-something happened?"

 

"We're holding a funeral."

 

"Oh dear, that's t-terrible!" Red gasped softly, "Who died!?"'

 

"You did," Snotlout replied sadly, he hated having to break the news to the kid. 

 

"M-me!?" Red replied absolutely bewildered. 

 

"Yeah, I'm sorry little buddy."

 

"Well, that can't be right, as you can see, I'm r-right here."

 

Oh, by Odin's beard, this was harder than he had originally thought it was going to be. 

 

"I know, but you have to move on, kid, to the great hall of the gods."

 

"Oh, for Thor's sake," Red mumbled under his breath, "No, I mean I'm right here, and I'm alive. I haven't died!"

 

Snotlout blinked. He hadn't considered that one.  

 

Just then, the air shimmered underneath Red, and a dragon emerged where nothing had been before. Suddenly the pieces clicked together in his mind and the reality of the situation dawned on him. 

 

"WAIT YOU'RE ALIVE!?" he screeched. 

 

"Oh, s-suffering scallops, yes of course I'm alive!" Red exclaimed a bit exasperated, "What did you think I was, a g-ghost!?"

 

"Red!?"

 

Snotlout's shouting had gained the attention of the other Dragon Riders and one by one they had turned to see what the commotion was all about. Now they were all staring at the sight before them openmouthed with shock and delight at the sight of Red riding, completely safely, if a little cold and damp, atop the back of a Changewing. 

 

"Hello!" he said, with a small sheepish wave, "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble!"

Notes:

Hiccup: Today we have lost a dear friend, Redheart the Clever
Red: Quit telling everyone I'm dead!
Snotlout: Sometimes I can still hear his voice!

Red has a habit of accidentally faking his death. I swear there are at least three books where this happens. Probably more.

As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 14: Son of A Changewing

Summary:

A heartwarming tale about how maternal instinct can transcend even the boundaries of species-hood and can become quite an inconvenience to the one who has been adopted. Especially when they are freezing to death in a cave.

To say that Red had not anticipated this situation was a bit of an understatement. Honestly, he had not anticipated any of the events of that night, but he had at least thought to bring some weapons. Unfortunately, he had lost his bow when falling from the cliff. Fortunately, he did still have the sword at his hip so if things did, in fact, go drastically wrong, he did have a backup plan. However, that was only a last resort. As often as dragons ended up trying to eat him and with the scars he had to prove it even if he didn't remember it, he had a soft spot for the creatures. Red was a bit soft in general by Viking standards and tended to resort to violence as a last resort in most scenarios.

 

The slumbering Changewing before him had indicated that she could in fact speak and that she might be willing to do so. And Red long held the belief that if you could at least speak with your captor then you had a chance. Whether through diplomacy or trickery, Red could weasel his way out of this. Lucky for him, he happened to be fairly skilled in both those departments.

 

He looked around the cave for any alternative way out. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a dead end, the only exit the pool which led to the underwater labyrinth below them. Judging from the fact he had nearly passed out on the way in, and that was moving at considerable speeds he could never hope to match on his own, he concluded he had no chance of swimming out. That narrowed his chances of making it out of this situation alive considerably. If he did have to resort to killing the Changewing he would be trapped down here, forever.

 

Well, that just meant he would have to make a good first impression. Considering the Changewing had... adopted him? He supposed he could check that one off the list.

 

Now he had to wait for the dragon to wake up. Taking initiative in this case would probably leave the creature in a foul mood and not likely inclined to help him out.

 

It took quite a bit longer than he anticipated.

 

Several hours passed. Red sat shivering atop the pile of discarded metal and seaweed. It was just about as uncomfortable as you might expect. The metal dug into his skin and the cool damp air did little to assuage the deep chill that pervaded his body now that he was soaked to the bone. The new clothes that Fishlegs had taken the time to fashion him from Hiccup's old wardrobe were now tattered around the edges and were plastered to his skin with icy salt water. He was just grateful that the isolated nature of the tunnel prevented a draft.

 

He wasn't sure how long he spent there, doing his best impression of a limp wet rat, but he was certain that morning had to be coming soon. He just hoped that Changewing's nocturnal nature would wake it for one last hunt before the sun rose. 

 

Red's hypothesis turned out to be correct. Not long after he had thought it, the large dragon shifted slightly in her sleep before lifting her head and climbing to her feet. She stretched, shaking away the drowsiness, and turned her mesmerizing golden eyes towards him, checking to make sure her new human was still right where she had left him. She let out a small trill of contentment when she acknowledged that he was, indeed still sitting atop the pile of metal. Wordlessly, she turned towards the pool at the end of the tunnel and began walking towards it, her claws clacking on the stone floor with every step.

 

"E-excuse me," Red took the opportunity to speak up. 

 

The dragon froze and whirled around at the sound of his voice. She let out a loud trill of excitement as she opened her mouth to exclaim "Speak!! You speak!! Heard before! Hear now again!! True! You speak!!"

 

Her dialect of Dragonese was perhaps even more archaic and broken than the dragons he had spoken to before. It took Red several seconds to parse the meaning before he was able to reply. 

 

"Yes, I s-speak Dragonese," he said, with a light stammer as his teeth were chattering, "J-just like you."

 

"Ah yes!! Yes!!" the dragon hissed with delight, "Smart, clever, strong human!! Mine!!"

 

"S-strong?" Red asked, a little taken aback by that descriptor.

 

"Yes! Yes! I watch whole fight! Kill Pack Queen!! Biggest strong of all!" the Changewing's voice took a decidedly nastier tone, "Did not liked her... mean nasty pack Queen... Green Wyrm, Grass Snake, Newt with Wings..."

 

"I s-see," Red replied, trying his best to keep up, "So you are happy I k-killed the... pack queen?"'

 

"Ha ha! Yes! Yes!" the dragon nodded her head excitedly, "Wicked Pack Queen! Good death! Deserved for banishment!"

 

Red nodded, slowly processing the words before jumping with a start as he caught the end of her sentence, "Banishment!? Are you trying to say she banished you? That's why you're happy?"

 

"Many yes!"

 

"But why did she banish you?" Apparently, Red had stumbled directly into and disrupted the world of Changewing politics, of course, just his luck. Hopefully killing their queen would not come back to bite him at some later date. Red knew that, with the way fate had directed his life so far, it would, it absolutely would.

 

"Small, bad wings," the Changewing shifted uncomfortably at this, extending her wings and showing that they did indeed seem to be a bit stunted, "Weakened pack..."

 

"Only the strong can belong, huh?" Red said sympathetically. The Dragon bristled slightly at that.

 

"I am strong! Big strong!" she hissed. 

 

"Yes, yes of course!" Red raised his hands placatingly, "I didn't mean to imply otherwise, I only meant to say that I understand."

 

And it was true. Though he could not remember, he felt a deep empathy towards the dragon, a sort of understanding that went beyond pity and spoke to a shared experience that was just beyond his reach. The Changewing seemed to notice this and calmed, settling back and lowering her spines which had risen in her anger. 

 

"Forgiven," she sniffed dismissively, clearly not wishing to dwell too long on the subject. A moment paused and she rose to her feet again, moving to turn back to the pool in the floor. 

 

"Must hunt now," she said, "Bring you fish, eat well. Too small, hungry."

 

"W-wait!" Red exclaimed, realizing he had forgotten the very reason he had started the conversation in the first place. 

 

"Yes?"

 

"I am very grateful that you saved me from that t-tree and that you have invited me into your..." he looked around the cavern, at the damp walls, oozing slime and the strong scent of rotten fish and rusting metal in the air and gulped before he continued, "lovely h-home, but I'm afraid I can't stay here. I was wondering if you could return me to my f-friends?"

 

The Changewing blinked several times as she processed the question, confusion clear in her mannerisms.

 

"But, mine?"

 

"Yes, of course, yours," Red acknowledged, not daring to fight the Changewing's territorially maternal instinct, "But I'm a boy, and boys don't do very well in caves such as this, no matter how lovely they are."

 

"But... mine." The dragon repeated, Red's words seeming to slip right past her, having little to no effect on her comprehension of the request. 

 

Red sighed, it seemed he would have to elaborate, be a little more direct. 

 

"Yes, but you see, it's quite cold down here and as much as I love fish, it can't be the only thing I eat. This place is the perfect place to raise a Changewing, but I'm not a Changewing. If I stay here, I could get sick, very sick."

 

"Sick?" the dragon repeated, mulling the word in her mind.

 

"Yes, exactly!" Red was relieved that she actually seemed to be thinking it over, "And if I got sick, then I could die, and you don't want that, do you?

 

"No...?" the dragon replied hesitantly.

 

"So, then you need to return me to the other humans, they can make sure that I don't get sick, and I won't die!"

 

"But... mine..." the dragon replied one last time, her tone distinctly melancholic as these two conflicting wants battled for dominance within her. 

 

"And I can still be yours," Red continued, "You can c-come with me, the humans at the Edge are friends with dragons. You could-"

 

"I will not be pet!" the dragon reared up in immediate alarm, "No Changewing submit to humans! Dragon pride not be tarnished!!"

 

"No of course not!" Red replied, "You wouldn't be a pet-"

 

"Seen other greenbloods," the Changewing hissed, still on edge, "Mindless, cattle, let human worms ride upon back!! Disgusting, like horses, like dogs! Not me! Not me!!"

 

"Now h-hold on, Changewing," Red interrupted, taking a stern tone to his voice, "Don't disparage your fellow dragons, they are not mindless. They do what they want, do not look down on them f-for that."

 

"Fine! Do what they want. I not want that!! Not me!" the agitated dragon was pacing back and forth as she spoke. As she walked, the hide on her back began to shift colors. Red morphed into gold which became a bright green. A pattern of changing colors that did not seem to want to settle. 

 

"Calm down," Red soothed, noting the obvious anxiety in her voice, "Look, you won't have to do anything you don't want to okay? The other humans at the Edge won't b-bother you if you don't want to be bothered. You can just sleep in the stables and keep an eye on me, you could leave whenever you want to hunt and run free. I just absolutely cannot stay here or..."

 

"Or sick, sick and die..." the Changewing finished for him.

 

She paused for a moment, then hissed and continued pacing back and forth, thinking it all over. Finally, she stopped, staring down at the ground of the cave for several seconds before turning back to face Red. 

 

"Not pet?"

 

"Of course not."

 

"No cage?"

 

"No cages, I p-promise."

 

The dragon hesitated a few seconds longer before she finally acquiesced. Calming slightly at having made her decision, her ever-shifting hide seemed to settle back into its original color, once again turning a bright red. 

 

"Fine. Take you where human boys belong."

 

"Oh, thank you, Changewing. That's very kind of you," Red sighed with relief. His final moments would not be spent eating raw fish in this freezing tunnel under the sea. 

 

"Not kind. Smart."

 

Without warning, the dragon reached out her tail which she wrapped around Red's torso. Red let out a little yelp of alarm as suddenly she lifted him up and placed him upon her back between the blades that studded it. Once she was certain he was secure, she turned and dove into the pool of water leading to the tunnel system. Red hardly had a moment to catch his breath before he was once again submerged in the freezing water. 

 

The trip back through the labyrinth was just as terrifying as the way in had been and by the time they exploded out of the tunnels and out to the surface, Red's ears were popping, and he felt seconds away from passing out. He gasped as they broke the surface. The sun was low on the horizon, the sky bright pink with the early glow of morning. The sky was surprisingly clear, no mist hung over the sea and the few clouds up above were light and fluffy. The air was warm, and the wind was calm. Most importantly of all, it didn't smell like fish. 

 

To his surprise, the Changewing did not opt to fly, but instead swam to the side of the cliff and began rapidly scaling it. He thought back to what she had said about her wings. They had seemed large and sturdy enough to support her weight, but they had seemed a little underdeveloped. Perhaps she did not like flying. That was understandable. So, he said nothing as she carried him up, up the cliffside, and back onto solid ground. From there she took off, bounding on foot back towards the Edge. 

 

She was still seemingly nervous about approaching there, however, as she subconsciously camouflaged herself as she bounded towards the camp. It was a little strange to ride a camouflaged dragon, to look down and see nothing. He imagined just how odd a sight he must be. A body sitting upright on nothing but air gliding several feet above the surface of the earth. He couldn't help but laugh softly to himself at the idea. 

 

It didn't take long for the two of them to make it to the outpost. However, Red was surprised to find that it was abandoned. He called out several times for the others but was met with silence. He poked his head into several doors, but even the dragons were gone. The base was totally abandoned. Confused and a bit anxious, Red encouraged the Changewing to walk about nearby, searching for signs of where they might have gone. 

 

That was when, to the east where the sun was climbing steadily higher into the morning sky, he saw a billowing tower of smoke rising from the sea. 

 

"Well, that c-can't be good," he muttered. 

 

It was just typical really, for him to get out of that nightmare situation just to return and find perhaps an even larger calamity happening back home. 

 

They wandered to the eastern shore, following the smoke on the horizon. He nearly sighed in relief when he saw the entire group of riders crowded together on the beach. That relief instantly gave way to worry as he recognized the scene before him. But perhaps he was misinterpreting things. So they were burning a boat, that could mean anything really. 

 

Well, it turned out his initial reading had been correct. It was a funeral. At least that's what Snotlout informed him once he'd asked. He tried to count heads to see who among them was missing, but no they were all present. 

 

It was to Red's great surprise only a few moments later to find out that the unlucky bastard who had died was, in fact, himself. Well, Red was pretty certain that while yes, he did happen to look like a corpse ninety-nine percent of the time that didn't mean he was one quite yet. He tried to say as much, but Snotlout seemed pretty adamant that, no the poor boy had, in fact, dropped dead and merely needed to accept this and move on to the afterlife. 

 

Now Red was no skeptic. He believed in the gods and in ghosts and magic, but this was a bit much. He was fairly certain he had made it out alive and in one piece thank you very much. And if Snotlout truly believed what he was saying he should have been scared witless. Ghosts were not to be trifled with. 

 

He was just about to say as much when a cry of "Red!?" interrupted him. 

 

He looked up to see that all six riders and all six of the dragons on the beach were staring at him in shock and delight. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable, being the center of attention. 

 

He shrank back a bit and gave a small wave, "Hello, I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble!"

Notes:

So that is the story of how Red the Clever was adopted by a Changewing dragon. This little arc is almost over, we have one little chapter left to clean up final loose threads and the aftermath of this little misadventure, and then we shall move on to new things.

Maybe we'll even check in on how the book world is doing without their Hiccup. I'm sure it can't be doing too well, considering the rather dire time limit they were on... How will that play out I wonder?

Anyway, this one was on the shorter side again I feel, as will be the next one most likely. I have an idea of what the next few story arcs will entail and I can't wait to get to them.

Chapter 15: Grounded

Summary:

In which Red sees the consequences of his actions.

Well, Red was grounded. For a month, perhaps longer.

 

Maybe he shouldn't have fessed up to killing that changewing. That probably hadn't been the wisest move on his part. In all fairness he'd had no idea just how angry they'd be. It was hardly the first dragon he'd ever killed, nor, he suspected, would it be the last. As any look in the mirror would indicate, dragons seemed to have a habit of trying to make him dinner.

 

The riders seemed to be a little optimistic about the nature of dragons. Red knew better. Just as any man could be monster, so could a dragon. And if a monster was trying to kill you, well really you had no choice but to kill it first. It was a rule of nature, and the world they lived in was hardly civilized enough yet to change that.

 

Or at least Red's world was. Whatever world he was in now was one in which Viking's read books, treated their dragons as equals, and allowed for people to settle down and live peaceful, unheroic lives. Fishlegs even had a rock garden.

 

The storm must have carried him very far indeed.

 

In any case, as soon as Red had climbed down from the back of the Changewing he had been swarmed by a group of wildly emotionally unstable teenagers who seemed to have just been in the midst of mourning his death. 

 

He was even more stunned when he suddenly found a pair of arms wrapped around him and pulling him into a gentle hug.

 

"I'm so happy you're alright!" It was Heather, who was laughing slightly despite the fact there were still tears in her eyes from when she'd been crying earlier.

 

"Mine..." he heard the Changewing grumbling unhappily beside him. But she didn't attack, just sat there glaring at the others crowding around what she deemed hers.

 

"Oh, Odin's beard, you're freezing!" She exclaimed suddenly pulling away and putting hand upon his cheek. The contrast of her warmth on his freezing skin was so stark it nearly burned. 

 

"Red! You're alive! Thank the gods!" It was Hiccup's voice now, and it was so light with relief it was hardly more than a breath.

 

"Y-yes," Red stammered, both from the cold and surprise, "I'm quite alright as you can s-see, just a little c-cold."

 

"Oh right, of course," Hiccup said, "Fishlegs, fetch some towels and dry clothes, Snotlout get a fire going in the clubhouse, Ruff, Tuff, go fetch some blankets," he turned to Heather, "Heather, if you could fix him something warm to drink, we need to get his body temperature back up."

 

Red blinked in astonishment as the riders fretted over him. It was so... unvikingly. Where he was from their concern and fretting would be considered 'sissy behavior'. It almost made him wonder if there had been some sort of miscommunication and they were actually from a peaceable tribe of farmers. But they had trained dragons which was something only vikings were brave or stupid enough to do.

 

The moment didn't last long however, as the Changewing finally had enough of the other riders crowding around her human. She let out a low growl as she moved forward, forcing the others back with their hands in the air.

 

"MINE!" She snarled.

 

"Whoa, hey now, it's okay," Hiccup laughed nervously as they retreated, "We're not a threat, we won't hurt you."

 

Somehow in the excitement of the moment, they had all managed to forget the half ton reptile in the room.

 

"Red back away from the Changewing," Hiccup added, addressing the young boy who was alarmingly close to the dragon.

 

"Um, I'm not so s-sure that's the w-wisest course of action."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Well, I think she s-sort of maybe-"

 

"Imprinted on you?" Finished Hiccup, realizing it as he spoke, "Oh Thor, this is just perfect."

 

"Oh not again," Snotlout muttered, "At least it's not me this time..."

 

"It's okay, I can manage it. It doesn't have to be a bad thing," Red explained, "From what I can tell, she wants to protect me. I think it's because she was watching when I killed the Changewing pack leader. She didn't-"

 

"YOU WHAT!?" Red jumped at the simultaneous shouts of all six riders.

 

"Not only did you down a dragon, you killed one?"

 

"How many did you hurt!?"

 

"The Changewing leader!?"

 

"I- w-well-" Red stammered, taken aback by their response.

 

"We'll discuss this later, but right now we have to deal with this Changewing," Hiccup interrupted, his voice slightly harder than before.

 

"It's alright," Red said, "I can handle this."

 

Before they could respond, Red turned to the Changewing. Her head was lowered, hovering near him protectively and she was growling, eyeing the riders with distrust.

 

"It's okay Changewing, they're going to take care of me like we promised. You need to let them take me," the Changewing's growl became a snarl at that so Red continued quickly, "I will be fine, I'll tell them to let you stay and they will, we won't leave the Edge."

 

"What is he whispering to it?" Snotlout muttered to Fishlegs.

 

"I don't think he's saying anything, it sounds more like he's imitating it to calm it down. Like how we practice our dragon calls... fascinating."

 

"I told you," muttered Tuffnut a bit smugly.

 

The dragon turned to look at Red, halfway to backing down but needing a bit more reassurance.

 

"I'll be okay, Changewing, I promise."

 

The Changewing stared at him for several long seconds before begrudgingly relaxing her stance.

 

"Thank you, Changewing," Red whispered before turning back to the others, "You should take her back to the stables and let her rest, she won't attack."

 

"That was very well done Red," Fishlegs exclaimed, "Actually that was incredible! The way you reciprocated its call to pacify it! I mean I knew Changewings appreciated mimicry but I've never seen it work this effectively before!"

 

"Yes, I've never seen anyone manage to tame a Changewing to this extent before..." Hiccup seemed pensive, his words slowed as he spoke and trailed off a bit in unspoken thought.

 

"Yes, w-well," Red laughed a bit confused, "Dragons appreciate when you talk to them on their level."

 

"Fascinating! You'll have to teach me how to do that!"

 

"R-really!? Well, um o-okay!" Red stammered, nobody had asked him to teach them Dragonese before. Then again it didn't seem that Fishlegs had actually fully realized that was what he had asked. It seemed that he thought that Red was simply copying the Changewing's cry rather than genuinely speaking to her. 

 

"I'll take the Changewing back to the stables, and I'll get her something to eat," Astrid said, "The rest of you focus on taking care of Red, he doesn't look too good.'

 

"I'm f-fine, really, just a bit chilly," Red was more than a bit chilly but it felt a bit strange to have everyone's concerned eyes turned upon him.

 

"You're lips are turning blue," Snotlout dead panned.

 

"Oh d-dear, are they?" Red said, perhaps that wasn't such a good sign.

 

"Let's just get you inside, we have a lot to talk about," Hiccup said, and with that the matter was settled.

 

---

 

With dry clothes, several layers of blankets, a roaring fire and cup of something warm and sweet, Red was feeling significantly better. He had stopped shivering, and the constant chattering of his teeth had finally ceased. On top of all that Fishlegs and Hiccup had tended to his wounds, which were little more than a handful of scratches unlikely to even scar, but nonetheless, with the appropriate healing salves and bandages he felt much better.

 

It was all gearing up to the subsequent interrogation about the nights events. Hiccup in particular seemed to be biting his tongue, fighting to keep from unleashing his almost parental monologue about the stupidity of Red's actions. It was to be expected Red supposed. The situation had gotten wildly out of hand. And now warm and well fed, he was ready to answer their questions. 

 

Unfortunately his story sounded exaggerated and even a little bit made up to even his own ears as he told it. The comical string of bad luck almost deserving of the tales bards told young children filled with slapstick humor and wildly improbable coincidences which always let the hero somehow escape unscathed. Red had been very much scathed to some degree but even that made it difficult to fully convey just how ludicrous the situation had been.

 

It certainly smelled of a child exaggerating things to escape probable punishment. He could not begrudge Hiccup and Fishlegs the occasional skeptical look they gave him. Especially when he started explaining the situation with the Changewing in the cave. Something about what he'd told them seemed to have crossed a line because Hiccup finally raised his hand, indicating for him to stop.

 

"Alright, alright, let me get this straight," he sighed, "You ran off after the Changewings to save Hogfly and it was only after then, when Smidvarg got hurt that you actively started fighting them?"

 

"Um, yes I suppose," Red said slowly, not exactly certain what it was Hiccup wanted to hear.

 

"So why is it then that you brought weapons in the first place?"

 

"Well, Hogfly was in serious trouble and there wasn't an insignificant chance that to save him would require a fight."

 

"So if that's the case, why didn't you wake one of us up? We'd have been willing to help you, especially if it meant saving Hogfly."

 

"Well..." Red paused, his voice growing smaller as his excuse sounded weak even to his own ears, "I didn't want to bother you, or escalate the situation..."

 

"And that's exactly the problem Red," Hiccup continued, sounding a bit exasperated, "by not waking us up the situation spiraled wildly out of your control. I know we haven't known each other very long yet, but you have to put a little bit of faith in us. I know you meant well but you are still just a child!"

 

"I'm sorry," Red muttered, feeling very small indeed.

 

"You almost got yourself killed, and one dragon was killed. How many more dragons were hurt that night because you decided to run off on your own!?"

 

Red bit his lip. He did not want to think about that, but unfortunately Hiccup was right. 

 

"Speaking of which, Red," Hiccup paused to take a breath and Red suddenly realized that this 'talk' was shaping up to be much more of a lecture, "I don't know where you come from, but around here we do not hurt dragons."

 

Red pursed his lips and looked away. He couldn't say he was proud of what'd he done, but in the moment he couldn't say he had much choice.

 

Hiccup sighed, and knelt down beside Red putting a hand on his shoulder, "I know it was self defense, but I want to make it clear that you are to explore all options before turning to violence. That includes asking for help from a dragon rider alright?" 

 

"I understand," Red replied, his voice small and unable to meet Hiccup's eyes.

 

"I'm glad," Hiccup said, his voice a bit more gentle than before, "because I know you're a good kid and you'd never want to hurt anyone, which is why I'm not as mad as I normally might be. But actions have consequences, which is why," he got to his feet, putting on a stern adult expression, "I'm afraid you're grounded Red."

 

"W-what!?" Red squeaked, a bit flabbergasted.

 

"I'm sorry Red, but I have to be sure that this doesn't happen again," Hiccup said, voice firm, "For the next four weeks you are not to leave the Edge, you are to be always under the supervision of one of the other riders or myself and you are not to visit the dragon stables without permission. Furthermore, you are going to be assigned double the amount of chores, in case you get bored of all your new freetime."

 

Red just stared at Hiccup openmouthed. It wasn't that he wasn't expecting punishment, he just wasn't expecting it to be so... mundane? No limpet rations, no spankings, no deeply unpleasant new chores or laps to run around the island. Just a few weeks of over abundant adult hovering and a few extra chores. It still sounded miserable, don't get him wrong, but it had absolutely not been what he'd been expecting.

 

Hiccup, clearly interpreting Red's shock as a response to being punished only continued his lecture. Red wasn't sure for how long he talked but he was certain that it had to have been at least another forty minutes of explaining the importance of teamwork, the sanctity of life, the nature of dragons and their relations with humans and so on. 

 

It was much more gentle than the initial scolding and this time Fishlegs took the opportunity to occasionally chime in his own wisdom every now and again. 

 

"I know they may seem scary at times," he added after one critical point about the nature of dragons, "but dragons tend to be gentle in nature, and if you show you aren't a threat, then they will act in kind!"

 

Red almost scoffed at that. Oh he wouldn't deny that dragons had the same capacity for kindness that humans had, but on the other hand they were just as capable of cruelty and violence. In fact some dragons were certainly more predisposed to it. They were after all natures apex predators. And sometimes they didn't just seek nourishment from their kills, but pleasure as well.

 

And it wasn't as though that cruelty was out of instinct as well. Dragons were no more blind beasts than humans were. They could ignore instinct and choose to be better. But just like humans, they could also ignore that choice and be the worst version of themselves imaginable. 

 

It was a case by case basis of course. Red agreed there was no need to generalize for the same reason you would not wish to generalize humanity. It allowed for terrible things. But it was also wise not to overlook this aspect of dragons, for your own wellbeing and in some cases for theirs. To approach a wolf under the misguided belief that it was akin to a puppy was about as inadvisable as it was foolish.

 

Red said nothing of course. He had a feeling his insight would not be recieved well. And Hiccup and Fishlegs did have such a lovely view of the world, a very optimistic and inspiring one. One Red wished he shared, and Red did hope to be an optimist himself. Unfortunately he was quite pragmatic in nature, despite his idealistic leanings and was quite aware that not every hopeful view of the world could be true. You also had to be realistic.

 

The lecture continued.

 

It was clear that this had turned from a scolding lecture into a genuinely educational one. And it struck Red in that moment that the two of them were nerds. Genuine dragon nerds. He wasn't sure how he hadn't realized it before. Perhaps it was because they both had seemed just a bit too cool and badass for the term. Fishlegs he had been secretly suspecting but Hiccup caught him completely off guard. 

 

Well educated about dragons yes, confident in their dragon training knowledge, of course. But then plenty of vikings knew things about dragons, especially when it pertained to their livelihoods. Hiccup and Fishlegs didn't just know about dragons, they were positively geeking out about them. Red had never met anyone other than him whom had fit that description before. It was a bit of a surreal experience.

 

"Speaking of which, Red," Fishlegs paused for a moment, a new look of excitement in his eyes, "About the Changewing..."

 

Oh right, apparently Changewings were typically considered untrainable. They did seem a bit more hostile to humans than the other species that he had encountered so far. 

 

"It is very impressive what you've managed to accomplish Red," Hiccup added with a smile, "the last time a Changewing Imprinted on one of us... let's just say it didn't go so well..."

 

"You were using a patterned dragon call to calm her down," Fishlegs continued, "You have to show us how you did that!"

 

"O-oh right," Red was a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. It seemed that the two of them had forgotten they were supposed to be in the middle of scolding him. But it seemed that most of their anger had evaporated and now they were eager to discuss dragons. Red wasn't about to turn down that conversation. He was quite the nerd as well if he was being honest. 

 

"Well, you mentioned earlier that you already practiced using dragon calls, correct?"

 

"Yes, if we need to call our dragons or scare off smaller ones, we have found mimicking their vocal patterns to quite useful!" Fishlegs stated.

 

"Um, if you don't mind could you show me?" Red wanted to know just to what extent they were able to replicate dragon speech patterns. 

 

"Of course," Hiccup cupped his hands over his mouth and did his best impersonation of a Night Fury call. Toothless, who had fallen asleep not too far from him sat upright at the sound, "Oh sorry, bud," Hiccup soothed. The dragon grumbled and went back to napping by the fire.

 

Red who had been listening very carefully nodded. It wasn't quite dragonese, it was more akin to a shout of greeting such as "Hey!" or "Oi!", something used to grab the attention or announce the presence of the dragon. It didn't quite have a perfect translation in human greetings. It was a good first start.

 

"Any other calls?"

 

"Sure, we use this one to scare away dragons," Fishlegs said, giving another dragon call that caused Toothless' ear to twitch, the dragon didn't bother to raise his head though.

 

Now this one was a bit more interesting. Very clumsily but distinctly were the words "Watch out!". It was a warning alright, and definitely Dragonese. Just very rudimentary Dragonese, again relying solely on the more draconic shrieks and clicks than actual verbal communication.

 

"I see," Red replied thoughtfully. They had shown they could at least accurately replicate certain noises required for basic communication, though they had fumbled some of the subtler sounds. He wasn't sure they were ready for a whole lesson on Dragonese grammer, syntax and vocabulary, but he could teach them a few basic phrases which were certain to be helpful when dealing with new dragons. 

 

For the next hour or so he worked on teaching them three basic words, "Poisonous", "Friendly", and "Food". He hoped those would be the most useful when dealing with unfamiliar dragons. A more specific warning not to eat them, a better indication that they were harmless and of course a means to bribe them with food.

 

Of the three "Poisonous" was the most difficult for them to pronounce as it was the most complex. It seemed they were generally having difficulty with some of the more subtle sounds, certain clicks that they made more into pops. It was inevitable that when learning a new language there were certain sounds that non native speakers would struggle with past a certain age. But despite this they eventually got close enough to the word that it would be intelligable to most dragons. It was heavily accented but it would suffice.

 

"This is incredible Red!" Hiccup exclaimed once he had mastered his new vocabulary, "Where did you learn all this!?"

 

Red opened his mouth to answer before abruptly shutting it again, realizing that he didn't have one.

 

"Right, of course, sorry," Hiccup sighed, "We will need to work on that..."

 

There was an awkward pause.

 

"Say, Red," Fishlegs interjected, changing the subject, "About your new Changewing friend, what were you planning to name her?"

 

"Oh, um, I was just going to call her Changewing I suppose."

 

Both Hiccup and Fishlegs just stared at him.

 

"What?" He asked defensively.

 

"You can't just name the Changewing 'Changewing'!" Fishlegs said exasperated.

 

"Why not?" Red didn't see the issue, it wasn't as if the Changewing cared. Dragons typically didn't have names, any name they did have was typically given to them by a human. There were a few exceptions of course, but they were few and far between.

 

"Well, Red, it's not very helpful as a name, don't you want to distinguish her from other Changewings?"

 

"I can tell her apart."

 

"Well, yes, but..." Fishlegs and Hiccup stared at one another a little lost for words.

 

"You don't seem to take issue with calling the Hogfly 'the Hogfly'," Red pointed out.

 

Fishlegs blinked.

 

"That's not his name?"

 

Red frowned and shook his head, "He's just a Hogfly, he doesn't have a name."

 

Hiccup and Fishlegs appeard a bit taken aback by this. It seemed that when earlier, when they had asked what kind of dragon he was and Red had told them 'Hogfly' they had interpreted it to mean that Red didn't know and had just told them his name again. A major but understandable miscommunication. 

 

"Well, regardless," Hiccup continued, breezing past that, "You should give the Changewing a good name, for our sakes if not for yours."

 

"Oh well... um... did you have any suggestions then," Red asked, he had to admit that he wasn't the best at naming things. 

 

"Hmm what about... Hildegard," offered Fishlegs, "lovely name for a lovely dragon don't you think?"

 

"Or well, she's a lovely red color, what about Redwing?" Hiccup offered.

 

"Redwing and Redheart?" Fishlegs questioned.

 

"Alright, I admit it's not my best work," Hiccup sighed.

 

"For a cooler, flashier title you could incorporate her camouflage abilities, like Shadowstryke or Nightkiller," continued Fishlegs.

 

"Or perhaps," Astrid said entering the room, "You could call her Mirage."

 

They all turned to see her, startled by her sudden arrival, "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear, I just came to say that the Changewing has been doing well. She ate all the fish and seems to have calmed down, I left her with the other dragons and she seemed to be adapting well."

 

"That's great to hear, Astrid," Hiccup said.

 

"Mirage..." Red repeated, as far as names went it wasn't too bad, fairly simple and straightforward, "I could work with that."

 

"Oh, really?"

 

"Mirage it is then," Fishlegs clapped his hands, "I hope she gets along well with Meatlug, I do love it when she makes friends!"

 

And so it was that the Changewing was named. 

 

Astrid, it seemed had more to discuss with Hiccup and Fishlegs however. In hushed tones she muttered something about receiving a letter from Berk. With serious expressions the three of them all turned to leave the clubhouse. Hiccup paused however, turning to Red one last time.

 

"We have important matters to discuss, I'll send Heather to supervise you while we're gone, in the meantime," he handed Red a piece of parchment, "here is your list of chores, you can go ahead and get started. Have fun!"

 

And with that, the trio were gone, leaving Red alone in the clubhouse.

 

Their 'talk' now over, Red looked down at the new list of chores he'd been given and groaned. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever been tasked with, but he knew that the next few weeks were sure to be tedious.

 

Well, that settles it, thought Red, the next time I see a dragon sneaking into camp at night, I'm going right back to sleep, consequences be damned.

 

With another miserable sigh, Red got to his feet and began to make his way down to the dragon stables. He had a long month ahead of him.

Notes:

And there we have it, that's the little Changewing arc completed.

Now we move on to new things.

Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed.

Chapter 16: Doomsday Eve...

Summary:

Meanwhile...

Notes:

Sorry for the longish wait. Had a bit of a busy summer and then the Book of Bill came out and stole all my attention.

I don't know when the next update is coming out, it may be a little while but in the meantime I figured I'd go ahead and drop this little intermission sort of chapter between arcs.

It was the darkest hour that humanity had ever faced, and a terrible doom had come upon the archipelago.

 

The dragon Furious had sworn to wipe humanity off of the face of the earth. He had summoned his armies of dragons and they had gathered on the nearby islands waiting for the moment to strike. What remained of the tribes of the archipelago had gathered on the island of Tomorrow and were waiting for the hour in which the new King of the Wilderwest would be crowned. This great and terrible choice would be made on the Doomsday of Yule and then the final battle would commence and the war between dragons and humans would end once and for all. Either in peace or in the total annihilation of either humans or dragons. 

 

There was just one problem.

 

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, Hope and Heir to the Hairy Hooligans and the elected leader of the Dragon Markers was dead. He had taken an arrow to the chest and had plummeted into the icy waters below, never to be seen again, his body lost to the sea. 

 

This left the only contender for the throne: Alvin the Treacherous.

 

This was actually excellent news for Excellinor the Witch, for she was Alvin's mother and she had been scheming and murdering and plotting for this day for decades and for it to finally arrive filled her ink black heart with the closest emotion to joy she had ever experienced. 

 

Unfortunately for Excellinor, there was actually one other problem that was preventing them from achieving complete and total control over the archipelago.

 

Doomsday hadn't come.

 

It all had started on the first night of Doomsday Eve. All the Alvinsmen and the Dragonmarkers had made their way to the Isle of Tomorrow to stake their claim for the throne of the Wilderwest. Excellinor had taken great pleasure in informing everyone that their rival and the only other true candidate for king, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had been shot dead with an arrow to the heart and had perished in the icy sea below.

 

Oh how she relished the tears that Stoick and Valhallarama wept. It had been a glorious moment indeed. 

 

Then that busibody druid had commanded that there be a temporary peace until the crowning of the king under the pain of death by airey oblivion and she was robbed of her chance to kill a few more Hooligans that night. 

 

They had camped out in the old ruins of the castle waiting for morning to come. Excellinor herself had kept vigilant watch of the eastern horizon waiting for the sun to crest the distant hills.

 

Only it never had.

 

Hours passed. She waited and waited, but the night remained as black as pitch. With all the smoke and ash filling the skies, blotting out the moon and stars, the only light to be seen came from the burning islands in the distance. Even through the ash and smog, the rays of the sun should have been visible. But there was nothing, just the eternal apocalyptic night. 

 

Slowly, more of the Alvinsmen and Dragonmarkers awoke, greeted by the same darkness. A chorus of murmurings spread throughout the ruins as they tried to make sense of the missing sun. 

 

Confusion slowly turned to anxiety. What was going on? What could be causing this? Why was the sun yet to rise?

 

With the looming apocalypse around the corner a truly terrible notion dawned upon the Vikings stationed on tomorrow.

 

"They've finally done it," a Visithug exclaimed in sudden panic, "Skoll and Hati have devoured the sun and moon!! Ragnarok is upon us!!"

 

"The dragon Furious must have aligned himself with Nidhoggr! This dreadful rebellion was their plan to uproot the world tree and doom us all!" A Danger-Brute added.

 

The already despairing vikings began to panic. Murmurings exploded into outright pandemonium. Fights broke out as neighbor turned on neighbor, the threat of the Guardians of Tomorrow forgotten entirely in the heat of the moment. The utter terror that this could truly be the end driving them to violence. 

 

"Quiet!!" Shreiked the witch, she too was fuming but for a very different reason. The lack of a sunrise meant the lack of a Doomsday which meant that Alvin could not yet be crowned king! Just when she held victory so tauntingly close to her grasp!

 

At the sound of her terrible shrill voice, the Vikings all froze in their tracks. Despite their differences, there was one thing that they could all agree on, the witch was terrifying.

 

"Don't be idiots," she hissed, "If this was Ragnarok all of this would have been preceded by Fimbulwinter, but I don't recall three years of harsh relentless snow, do any of you?"

 

There was dead silence, "That's what I thought. I suspect that there is dark magic at play here. Perhaps this is the doing of Loki, or perhaps that great stupid lizard Furious is using some sort of Sea Dragon magics lost to time. I will consult the mice guts and the fire for an answer. Until then we must all remain calm until Alvin is crowned King of the Wilderwest! Do not forget the Guardian Dragons which surround us, we are lucky they have not already killed us all for breaking our truce!"

 

There was another tense silence as all the Vikings simultaneously remembered that indeed the Guardian protectors, man and dragon alike were watching and that they had just come terrifyingly close to airey oblivion. They all stepped away from one another, taking extra care to brush the dirt and grime off their opponents' armor and trade apologies.

 

That had been two weeks ago. And still the sun had yet to rise.

 

The anxiety had only grown since then. The entire camp was a powder keg ready to explode. The idea that all of this was a sign of Ragnarok had not been entirely quenched by the witch's argument. As you walked about the ancient stone halls you could hear the muffled whispers of both warriors and slaves alike that the end was truly bear. That it didn't matter who was crowned king as soon the hoards of the undead would come pouring out of Helheim and make their already crumbling world their battlefield.

 

Even Alvin was getting antsy. At first he had just furiously impatient but over the past two weeks he had felt a creeping sense of dread. Had they not been under the careful watch of the Guardians of Tomorrow he would have stained the floor red with the blood of hundreds, turning the courtyard into an execution stage. Instead he had merely been lining up in his mind the first he'd place on the chopping block once he was free to do so. 

 

Stoick and Valhallarama were his first picks along with his mother of course. He couldn't wait to be rid of her. Maybe then he'd pick off Hiccup's little friends, Fisheggs and Cami-what's-it. Then their dragons of course. He still hadn't forgiven Toothless for doing his business in his helmet those several years ago. 

 

His frustration at the situation of course had shortened his temper, which was very bad news for the slaves and Dragonmarkers alike. They were the same in Alvin's mind.

 

It was clear that something had to change soon, or things really would go sidewise.

 

Every day Excellinor consulted her dice, her animal guts and the embers of the fire and everyday they all said nothing. Day after day the same message was relayed, but it was utter nonsense. Excellinor wondered perhaps if the Norns had all stepped out for a quick vacation at the same time. Because if she was interpreting her soothsaying correctly, then there was no future, just a blank void where the future once had been.

 

What was the meaning of this!? Excellinor herself was beginning to panic. So desperate was she that despite her own sense of pride she turned to Old Wrinkly, Valhallarama's father and that horrible little Hiccup boy's grandfather. He too had taken up the art of reading the future in the flames, though he'd always been sort of rubbish at it. But Excellinor was at her wits end.

 

"Tell me," she screeched as she slithered across the earth on all fours towards him, her teeth bared so that her face looked like the grimace of a freshly picked clean skull, "Tell me what you see in the flames!!!"

 

"Well, that's the trouble," Old Wrinkly said after a moment, "There doesn't seem to be much of anything."

 

"Liar!! You must see something!! There can't be nothing!!" Excellinor hissed, furious that he might be telling the truth but hoping against hope that he might've found something that she hadn't.

 

"Truth be told I haven't been able to see anything since Hiccup... passed," his voice was tired and feeble and he seemed as though he were withering away. He'd looked this way since he'd heard the tragic news of his beloved grandson's death.

 

"Oh, quit your whining you miserable sack of bones," she snarled, "I don't care if you've gone and lost your grandson, it's no excuse at all not to do your job. If you didn't want him dead perhaps you should've looked after him better, raised him into a proper Viking, then I wouldn't have had to kill him."

 

Old Wrinkly flinched at those words. This was because he was partly the reason Hiccup had been such an unusual Viking to begin with, teaching him Latin and French as well as games of strategy like chess and so on. Old Wrinkly had been the one to always support Hiccup no matter what and to always encourage him to be the Viking he was and not the Viking the Hooligans wanted him to be.

 

"No, I mean this quite literally," he wheezed softly and sadly, "Ever since the night he died the fire has been unusually blank. I don't know why..."

 

"Well, isn't that just perfect," Excellinor fumed, "On the eve of my son's victory, just when we'd done away with that little whelp-"

 

The Witch froze in her tracks. 

 

No.

 

It couldn't be.

 

Without another word she skittered back up the cold stone steps of the ruined castle tower to the room she had been using as her own private study. She slammed the door shut, ignoring the cool draft that blew in through the massive hole in the wall to her right, granting her oversight to the majority of the castle.

 

She scrambled to one of the cages holding a large rat. Without warning, she grabbed the poor creature and slammed it down on the table, cutting through its abdomen as it wriggled and writhed.

 

"Hold still you pathetic ball of fur," she hissed as she cut deeper and deeper, spilling its guts. It let out a loud cry before finally going silent. She ignored its misery, grabbing the entrails and frantically searching through them, muttering under her breath as she did so.

 

Finally it seemed as though she had found what she was looking for. She froze, staring at the bloody intestines in her hands, a feral sort of growl building at the back of her throat as a terrible realization dawned upon her. Her hands trembled and she ground her teeth together as she stood there seething. 

 

Finally she let out a scream, throwing the guts at the wall and screeching at the top her lungs. Still enraged she whirled around upturned her table, potions crashing and clattering as the vials broke upon the stone floor. Still unsatisfied she threw back her head so she was staring up through the gap in the stone, up towards the blackened sky. She raised a fist at the heavens and howled louder than she ever had before "CURSE YOU HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK III!!!!!"

 

---

 

Camicazi froze as a terrible scream ripped through the castle. She was currently dangling over the head of a particularly nasty Lavalout when the witch's scream nearly made her jump and fall right on top of him

 

The past two weeks had been terrible.

 

First of all, Hiccup was supposedly dead. Sure, Camicazi had seen the arrow strike him in the chest and had watched in shock as he fell from the Windwalker into the sea. But she still didn't believe it of course. If Hiccup could survive being eaten alive by the Green Death, being swarmed by a pack of Sharkworms and escape an exploding volcano, then he could survive this. 

 

Camicazi should know, she was the Master Escaper after all and she had deemed Hiccup quite good at the art- for a boy, of course. She figured if he could escape all that, well then perhaps he could escape death itself. 

 

But nevertheless, with Hiccup supposedly dead that left Alvin the only viable candidate left to be crowned king and she was absolutely not having that.

 

Camicazi's immediate instinct had been to go out and search for Hiccup. If he was alive then he was somewhere out there and she would find him and put him on the throne where he belonged.

 

However, just as she'd been about to tell Fishlegs her plan, something stopped her. She wasn't sure what it was, but she suddenly felt that, while yes Hiccup was out there somewhere, she wouldn't be able to find him. 

 

She wasn't sure why, but she knew she'd just have to trust that Hiccup would make it back on his own. And Hiccup had never let her down before. If anyone could do it, he could. Furthermore, Bog Burglers knew to trust their instincts, so instead Camicazi and Fishlegs joined the procession to the Castle of Tomorrow.

 

It was here that they had been camping for the past two very dark weeks. And she felt like she was going to claw off her own skin. Camicazi had never stayed put in one place for quite so long and it was driving her crazy. As such her little habit of burglaring had flared up a bit and she was snatching little knick knacks off of nearly every Viking she passed.

 

Which was what lead her to where she was now, hovering a few inches above a Lavalout's head about to snatch his mustache out from under his very nose. She grinned as she held the knife out so delicately and then nearly lost her balance as the witch screamed.

 

"...YOU HICCUP....HADDOCK III..."

 

"Hiccup?" Camicazi mouthed, confused.

 

She didn't have time to dwell on that, the Lavalout was distracted by the scream, meaning she now had the opportunity to take her trophy. With one dainty move of her devilishly dexterous fingers, she sliced the mustache free and retreated to the safety of the rafters above.

 

She sat there for several moments waiting for the inevitable realization until "What the- My mustache! Where's it gone!?" 

 

She resisted the urge to snicker and quietly and gracefully climbed to the nearest window before descending back out into the courtyard of the castle. She pocketed the beloved mustache, considering it to be an excellent prop for a future disguise. 

 

She was so thrilled about her successful burglaring venture that she nearly forgot about the scream. The scream that apparently had something to do with Hiccup. Her curiosity was piqued.

 

She glanced up the stone wall of the witch's tower. It was uneven enough that with her climbing gear she could easily scale it. Well if there was one thing Camicazi was good at- well there were many things- but it was especially sneaking and eavesdropping. 

 

The tower only took about five minutes to climb. By the time she reached the top, she had missed the majority of the witch's cursing and ranting. But she had been fast enough to catch the very tail end of it.

 

"By Loki's tricksiest lie, by Hela's frostnipped, rotten cheeks," she spat, "I'll have that Wanderer executed, I will!! A spell to unwind a fate, more like a trap by the gods..."

 

Camicazi's ears pricked up, now this was certainly interesting. A spell to unwind fate...? What on earth could that mean?

 

"Who knew that runty little accident would end up being the thread that unwound it all..." the witch muttered, "but now that he's been pulled, how do we weave him back in...?"

 

There was a slight pause.

 

"But how can fate hinge upon an accident!?" She howled, "He was never meant to exist!! How could everything be hinged upon him! I must find him, wherever the gods sent him, even if it's just his skinny little corpse I summon back..."

 

There was the terrible sound of the witch's poison tipped nails scratching against stone. Camicazi risked peaking her head through gap.

 

The witch was in the back end of the room, her white figure almost glowing in the dim light of the torchs, her cloak of ravens feathers glossy and glittering in the flickering firelight. Her long whispy white hair pooled around her on the stone floor and together with her long white gown, lightly billowed about her in the draft. She was muttering something under her breath, scratching unfamiliar runes and symbols into the stone wall with her iron talons.

 

Camicazi shuddered slightly. Even she could not resist the awful aura of absolute evil that surrounded the witch. She appeared almost like an apparition, a wicked creature from legend rather than a human woman. And something about the symbols she was carving into the wall made the hairs on the back of Camicazi's neck stand on end.

 

"But he's dead... he must be dead, the spell was just insurance... the arrow struck him in the heart. I saw it with my own eyes..."

 

Suddenly, the witch straightened, she tilted her nose upwards sniffing the air. She was still for several horrible moments, then she let out a long terrible sigh.

 

"I smell..." she hissed, slowly turning to look behind her, "a Bog-Burglar..."

 

Well, that was Camicazi's cue to leave. Before Excellinor even had time to say another word, she was already rappelling down the tower to the courtyard below.

 

She had to get to Fishlegs right away. They had a lot to discuss.

Notes:

So it seems the witch may have had a hand in what is occurring here, though clearly she has gotten more than she has bargained for. That was foolish of her, all witches should know there are consequences to messing with fate.

With this new information, I wonder what Camicazi plans to do?

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 17: The Most Dangerous Thing in All the World

Summary:

While the other riders are out on a mission, Red and Heather spend a little bonding time back at the Edge and Red learns a terrible secret.

Notes:

I live!!! But not well, I've had a doozy of a past few months, first I got covid, then pneumonia, then influenza. This is the most sick I have ever been in my life. If I get sick one more time I will actually lose it.

I've been working on this chapter so long, it's been killing me the amount of times the amount of times I said I would finally finish it and then didn't. So sorry for the wait but I'm gonna just go ahead and get it out there and let's hope the next chapter comes easier.

Thank you so much for all your kind comments. I do read all of them and they really do help boost motivation. So sincerely, thank you!

A week after the Changewing incident as it was now called, Hiccup gathered together the riders to resume their work in the field. Sinking Dragon Hunter ships, Red presumed, though Hiccup didn't specify. They kept their plans to their chest for the most part, and Red didn't complain. Honestly, he did not have the heart for prolonged conflict and preferred the quiet life on the outpost. He just hoped the skirmishes wouldn't reach here, though he knew it was a possibility. 

 

Heather had volunteered to stay behind this time as Red's supervisor. As per the terms of his grounding, she was permanently stuck to his hip the entire time. His list of chores now doubled meant he spent the entire afternoon working while Heather sat comfortably a few feet away. It was tedious work, but he supposed it was likely even more tedious to watch. 

 

Heather didn't seem to mind however, she kept her generally pleasant demeanor chatting casually as she watched him work.

 

The first half of the day was spent polishing the armor and weapons. The work was easy. The real challenge was trying to keep Mirage from running off with the freshly shined pieces of metal. Every time Red looked away, she would slink forward under her camouflage and in one swift swipe of her talons, would purloin a helmet or a sword.

 

The Changewing was mesmerized by the glinting metal and it was clear she was aiming to recreate the nest she had left behind in the tunnels. On more than one occasion Red had to scold her, telling her to leave the metal alone and that she was only making things more difficult for him.

 

"But is shiney! Make nest pretty! Glitter glow for cozy home!"

 

"I understand Mirage, but you can't keep stealing the riders things, they need them."

 

"Need more!" Mirage pouted, "Humans not need nestsparkle, plenty of shine already. Greedy, share."

 

"Mirage, if you need metal for your nest I can get you some, just not this metal okay?"

 

The Changewing stared at him for a long time before finally, reluctantly, dropping the sword with a loud clatter.

 

"Thank you," he sighed with relief, grateful that he could return to his task without any further interruptions. 

 

"You formed a bond with Mirage really quickly," Heather remarked, impressed and slightly amused by the interaction, "Maybe Fishlegs was right and we should start practicing our dragon calls more."

 

"Well, I can't take all the credit exactly," Red shrugged, "She Imprinted on me so she's already inclined to listen to me."

 

"Still, no one's managed to train a Changewing before. You shouldn't sell yourself short, I think you have a lot of potential. Maybe one day-"

 

"Mirage!" Hiccup shouted, cutting Heather off as he spotted out of the corner of his eye a piece of metal shifting. Her tail materialized and flinched back and she huffed in annoyance at being caught in the act. 

 

"Sorry," he said and she laughed.

 

"No worries, I'll stop distracting you and let you work."

 

With Mirage's generous help it only took until about lunch time to finish the majority of the work. Just as he was going to leave the last few items on the pile to go eat, he noticed that something was slightly out of place. He frowned and reached forward, pulling the small wooden object out from under the remaining shields and breastplate.

 

"Panpipes?" He questioned. 

 

"Ah those must belong to Fishlegs," Heather replied, "The smaller dragons in the area, rogue Terrors, like to nab some of our things sometimes if they are left out. They must have dropped it here in favor of something shinier." 

 

Red examined the wood of the instrument more closely, and indeed there were small markings in the wood that easily aligned with the teeth marks of a small dragon. Interesting, Terror teethmarks were not dissimilar to those of Common or Gardens and Basic Browns. He ran his fingers along the indentations, he wondered if he might be able to get another sample pattern to take with him when he finally got back to wherever it was he was supposed to be getting back to. He'd love to compare the two more closely. 

 

Heather chuckled softly as she watched Red examining the pipes.

 

"Another dragon nerd I see," she grinned, "You fit in well here."

 

Red's cheeks flushed and he instinctively pulled back, embarrassed. His abundant interest in studying and cataloging dragon behaviors would be considered strange in most Viking tribes. It was weird that it wasn't the case here on the Edge.

 

"I can take these back to Fishlegs' hut," he said, changing the subject. 

 

"Oh, sure, that's very thoughtful, I'm he would appreciate that."

 

"Yes, I'll be right back then," he felt Heather's eyes on him as he turned and made his way up towards Fishlegs' living quarters. 

 

Fishlegs' room was a bit more luxurious than most Viking's. There was a distinct focus on comfort and habitability that the average barbarian lacked. The blankets and bedding were much thicker and more inviting than most and there was a large soft rug draped across the floor that cushioned Red's footfalls as he entered. The room was decorated with small plants and rock structures that were clearly meant to inspire a sense of relaxation and serenity. The room was also peppered with fragrant candles that Red could faintly smell even when unlit. It was quite nice actually.

 

He stepped towards the small and slightly cluttered writing desk, unsure where else to lay the pipes. As he set them down, as gently as he could, the long trail of his slightly too-long sleeve caught the edge of a jar of quills and brushes which clattered loudly as they tipped over, sending the writing utensils across the desk and onto the floor.

 

"Oh, fiddlesticks," Red muttered to himself as he hurriedly righted the container and collected the fallen tools. Once he had finished collecting the brushes that had scattered across the desk, he knelt down and began gathering the ones that had fallen to the ground as well. He checked under the desk and put his head to the floor, peering under Fishlegs' bed as well, in case any had rolled under. He was lucky he had, a faint glint of light on the polished metal handle informed him he had been correct, and he reached his arm under to reach for it. 

 

As his fingers closed around the cool handle, he felt faintly something brush against his fingertips. Curious, Red peered into the darkness again, scanning for the something he had missed before. It didn't take him long to find it. It was an old piece of parchment, a bit dusty as though it had laid there untouched for several months. It must have fallen off of the desk ages ago and been forgotten there. How unfortunate. Hopefully, whatever document had been lost, it hadn't held any vital information. Well, he could afford to do Fishlegs one more favor, couldn't he?

 

Once more, Red reached under the bed and grabbed the lost document. It felt just as dusty as it looked, so gently he began to brush away the grime. 

 

Red hadn't meant to read it. He genuinely had not.

 

However, just as he was cleaning of the last bits of dust, two things caught his eye without his meaning them to. First was the format, it was a letter, the structure was clear and unmistakable. The second thing he noticed was the small, pressed flower that had been included with it. He almost brushed it off, having thought it was just a drawing at first. However, as he caught it before knocking it to the ground, just what type of flower it was made itself known to him. It was a Bog Rose. A rare flower that only grew on the isle of Berk and despite its ugly appearance and pungent odor, was often used as a symbol of affection or even... dare I say it, love.

 

As Red's eyes lingered on the flower, a terrible sense of dread began to descend upon him. This sort of flower, paired with a letter... it couldn't be that this was a love letter, was it? 

 

Unable to stop himself, he ignored his own conscience telling him not to pry and began to read. 

 

The first thing he was surprised to find, was that it was addressed to Heather. And as he continued through its contents, he was disconcerted to find that he was right. Red had never been one for romance and he had certainly never been in love, but the mushy language and tone of the letter was unmistakable, even to him. And as he read he felt his heart rate spiking until he got to the very end of the letter signed 'with love, Fishlegs'.

 

This was terrible news. This was beyond terrible. This was one of the worst things that could've ever happened.

 

Red knew that love turned men into fools, but still, to this day, he couldn't wrap his mind around just how easily it did so. Everyone knew that to fall in love in the Barbaric Archipelago was the most dangerous thing you could do in all the world. And depending on who with, well, you might just be signing your own death sentence.

 

If you were to fall in love, or heaven forbid, write love letters to say, I don't know, the son or daughter of a chief and you weren't of noble blood... That never ended well. Even ordinary relationships often required tremendous trials in order to prove your worth to the family before the tribe and in some tribes a disgruntled parent was well within their right to strike you dead if they didn't approve of your advances towards their child. Many a great warrior had been felled in impossible quests, sent to their doom in the name of winning the hand of their beloved.

 

It was in Red's well-informed opinion that love must be a sort of madness, for no sane man would choose such a thing. 

 

Staring down at the accursed letter in front of him, Red's mind was moving a mile a minute as he tried to process what to do with this information. Fishlegs and Heather must have been in the midst of some dangerous affair, he had seen no outward signs of their affection and no evidence of a betrothal. This made everything even more complicated. If this was the case and they were found out... Well, from what he knew, Berk was one of the more peaceful and civilized tribes in the archipelago. There was a chance they could both make it out of this alive, but most likely not unscathed. But that all depended on their status within the tribe. If they were both common folk of the tribe, well then things might turn out okay, not great, but okay. If not... well...

 

Hiccup was the son of the chief and as far as he knew he didn't have any siblings, but that didn't mean either Fishlegs or Heather couldn't be of noble blood. He couldn't rule out either one of them as being his cousin or some other distant relation and that would make things even worse. 

 

Mind spiraling rapidly at the endless possibilities, he failed to notice Heather entering the hut behind him.

 

"Red, is everything all right?"

 

Red nearly jumped out his skin. He whirled around, awkwardly shoving the letter up his slightly too large sleeve and folding his arms across his chest so it wouldn't fall out.

 

"Heather, by the gods you scared me!" He breathed, "Yes, I'm fine, why do you ask?"

 

"You were talking a long time," the slight concern on her face twisted into a trading grin, "I just wanted to be sure you weren't taking an advantage of the serene atmosphere to slack off and take a nap."

 

"Oh, no, I wouldn't do that!" His heart was still beating incredibly too loudly. Could she hear it?

 

"I know, Red, relax. I'm just teasing you, you're fine," she laughed lightly and turned to leave, "Come now, you have some kitchenware to scrub."

 

Red groaned slightly but was relieved that attention was no longer on him. This love situation was terribly complicated and now, thanks to his nominees, he was smack-dab in the middle of it. How did he keep ending up in these situations?

 

No matter, now that he knew, it was going to be his responsibility to keep it a secret. Heather and Fishlegs had managed to keep the secret affair to themselves for now, but as Red had already established, love turned men into fools. If he ever caught sight of them doing something foolish... he would have to do his best to dissuade attention away from them. If only to make sure no one ended up dead or banished.

 

Cleaning the entire base would be an infinitely easier task in comparison. Red could only wait for his infinitely terrible luck to rear its head and turn the already horrible situation from bad to worse.

 

With this resolve in mind, he sighed, straightened his shoulders, and followed Heather outside. 

 

He had work to do.

Notes:

Fishlegs, writing a loveletter, in my barbaric archipelago!? It's more likely than you think!

Poor Red, he really can't deal with this love letter shenanigans again. Nobody tell him that Heather is the daughter of a chieftain. Luckily, its unlikely that a certain brother of hers won't pop in unannounced any time soon and cause any problems. Thank God that won't happen.

One of the things that always makes me laugh whenever I reread the books is how baffled/exasperated Hiccup gets whenever Fishlegs gets a crush on someone. Poor boy just does not get it. Real aroace vibes.