34. Nights with the Nadder

Astrid stood, panting. Her heart beating wildly, glistening with sweat from both the heat and the exertion. Gripping her trusty axe impossibly tight.

In the pile of burning wood that was once her home.

She watched as the dragons, those demons, flew off with their livestock. Framed by the rising sun. This was it, the last of their food. They’d taken everything.

This raid was uniquely awful, even more than any of the terrible raids that took place during the last few months.

A massive horde of dragons, in numbers Berk had never seen before, descended on the village. Raining fire from the skies, and taking everything they got their claws on.

But there wasn’t a lot to take.

Beyond the absurd number of common dragon species, there were a few rare varieties as well. Types that Berkians weren’t overly accustomed to fighting with.

A crafty Changewing disappeared and reappeared rapidly, confounding oncoming Vikings. Spitting acid whenever it had an opening.

A sweet-smelling mist would catch Villagers off-guard, luring them into false senses of security, until it would catch flame and combust. All the work of the four devious heads of a Snaptrapper.

The ground rumbled and quaked, as a charging Crimson Goregutter rampaged through the village. Wrecking buildings from the front and the back with its formidable antlers, and axe-like tail. The Berkians could barely pierce the scales of this mighty dragon.

And finally, a horrifying Skrill summoned destructive bursts of lightning and scorched anything it could see. Firing at Vikings who’d get too close to food-stealing dragons, stopping them with pinpoint accurate bolts of voltage. It perched atop the chief’s hut, like a twisted gargoyle. Screeching as it channeled electricity.

Chief Stoick, to his credit, was seemingly no longer depressed. Nor was he angry, or denying the world around him. It seemed he’d finally accepted what happened with his son. He was fully engaged with the raid, doing everything he could to get his people through it.

Unfortunately, with an attack this bad, doing everything he could just wasn’t enough.

Every last house was either heavily damaged or burned to a crisp, countless injuries were suffered, their weapons were hindering them more often than helping them, thanks to the poor quality…

After a long, brutal attack. Where every scrap of food except for the emergency provisions was taken, the dragons finally left. Leaving a desecrated village in their wake.

Every Viking watched as the beasts flew off, and no one said a word. No one yelled curses to the skies aimed at the creatures. No one threw an axe or a sword at them, knowing it would miss but just wanting to make their hatred known.

No one moved an inch, no one made a sound. They just watched, as all they had left was stolen.

They just watched in despair.

Because they knew they’d lost.

The dragons had finally done it, stripped them of their every means of survival. The dragons won.

The Berkians wouldn’t go down without a fight…but they’d still be going down.

Stoick didn’t agree with that.

He stood in the middle of the wrecked town square, shouting to all his people.

“We are not finished! We are Vikings, we WILL get through this!” He proclaimed. The crowd’s reaction was mixed. Some were inspired by his words, and others wanted him to put a cork in it so they could mope in peace.

Stoick’s face grew a bit sullen, as he delivered the bad news. “Winter is almost here, and we’re…low on food…” The crowd began to murmur, uttering words of fear and distress. The Chief’s confidence returned as he outlined his plan.

“Before the ice sets in, I’ll be making trips to the nearby islands. To see if they have any food to spare. I’ll send hunters to the forests, to kill anything that looks edible. We’ll have fishing boats operating 24/7. We start rebuilding houses immediately, and I’ll smack some sense into Gobber…” He held a fist up as he boldly finished his speech. “WE WILL SURVIVE!”

He received some cheers, but it wasn’t unanimous. Many Vikings were giving into despair. After some more shouting from Stoick, though, they all got to work.

Astrid was actually quite pleased with the chief. Finally, he was back to normal!

But this did nothing to assuage the dread she felt.

Right now, they had nothing. Yes, they could bounce back. But if the dragons attacked again while they were in this state…all would be lost.

However, instead of feeling hopeless, this only served to ignite the flame of determination from within Astrid.

Her plan was already in motion, now she just had to move to the next step.

She would end this war.

She patted her bag, thankful that she could feel Hiccup’s notebook. If she’d left it in her room, all its knowledge would be lost…

As the Viking girl assisted the village in anyway she could, transporting the injured or moving debris, she thought of just what she’d do tonight. What else she could do the earn the creature’s trust, get it to fly her to its home.

Because she was seeing the Nadder again tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knocked, and waited.

…

He knocked again, louder.

…

Fine then, have it your way.

Shoving the door open, Stoick stomped into Gobber’s hut. A deep frown on his face.

It was dark, except for the light seeping in from a hole burned through the roof. And very musty.

The blacksmith was sat in a chair, facing his fireplace. Back turned to the door. A mug of ale affixed to his arm. Aside from brief instances where’d he’d take a sip of his drink, he was motionless.

Stoick stood behind him, feeling something he wasn’t used to feeling. Nervousness.

Suddenly, he had no idea what to say. The two, once so close they’d consider themselves brothers, hadn’t spoken in months. And whenever they ran into each other, Gobber would always regard him with a cold scowl.

Finally, he attempted to speak. “…Gobber.”

He didn’t receive a response.

He spoke again, raising his voice now. “Gobber!”

The one-handed man seemed to be listening even less.

“…Gobber please…” Stoick begged.

Gobber finally acknowledge his presence with a grunt. “…What do ye want?” He asked, without turning around.

The chief hesitated. “I’ve…I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s a new one…” Gobber snarked, before taking a sip of his ale.

Stoick let the comment slide. “I think I know why the raids are getting worse…”

“Great!” Gobber cheered sarcastically, before slipping into a glare. “I don’t care!”

The bearded man felt a twinge of anger, but he took a deep breath and continued. He needed to say this. “It’s because of Hiccup…”

At his chief’s words, every bitter remark Gobber had dissipated. “…Ye think he did this?” He whispered in disbelief. Turning his head just slightly.

Stoick tried to clarify. “No, I think we did this! I think the raids are a punishment, from the Gods. Because of…” He fought to keep his composure. “Because of how we treated Hiccup. How I treated him…”

Before Gobber could say anything else, the chief was entering a ramble. “All he ever wanted to do was make us proud, make me proud! And what did we do?” He grew angry, but not at his son or Gobber, at himself. “We tossed him aside! Because he wasn’t Viking enough!”

He snorted as the word Viking left his lips. “That boy was as stubborn as a mule…he never gave up. He couldn’t wield a weapon, so he tried to make his own ways to fight. He was always trying to help, in any way he could. We told him to stop, to go away, but he never did. He kept pushing forward, no matter how many times he failed, no matter what adversity he faced…” He then chuckled wistfully. “…Sounds like a boar-headed Viking to me…”

Gobber turned to fully face his old friend, stupefied. “Just…what are ye saying, Stoick?”

“I’m saying I failed him!” He bellowed, face growing red. “The entire village scorned him, beat him, called him useless! And instead of defending him, I joined them in ostracizing my son! What kind of father does that!? That’s why he felt he was forced to side with the dragons, because he wasn’t wanted by his own people. Because I pushed him away!”

Despite how angry he was, he now seemed to be deflating. He just looked…tired. “…We tried so hard for a child, Val and I. We wanted one so badly, but it never worked…until the Gods took pity on us. They gave us a gift…a miracle…” Gobber didn’t miss the faint sparkling of tears beginning to form. “When that monster took her away from me, I made a promise. I promised her I’d protect our miracle…and I’ve failed. I’ve failed them both…”

He rested his head in his hand, feeling overwhelming shame. “That’s why the dragons are out of control. I’ve angered the Gods. They gave me a gift, and I threw him out…What would Valka think of me?”

They stood in a miserable silence, as Stoick wallowed in his failure.

Gobber broke the silence. “Aye, you’re right, ye have failed. We all have, doesn’t take a genius to see that…” He stood up, and confronted Stoick. Brother to brother. “The real question is…what’re ye gonna do about it?”

Stoick’s brow furrowed. His misery dissipating, he was now powered by the drive to make things right.

“Once the village is a bit more stable, I’m going to some of the nearby islands to ask for aid. While I’m gone, I’ll look for Hiccup. I’ll find him, and bring him home.” Gobber stroked his moustache, thinking.

“A decent plan…and what if that fails?” Gobber asked.

Stoick bristled at this. “Then I’ll search the entire archipelago! I’ll search outside the archipelago! I won’t rest until my son is found!” He was yelling now, invigorated by his new mission.

“Now that’s more like it!” Gobber cheered. “Though…maybe don’t work yourself to death? Ye’ve still got a village to run.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Stoick and Gobber shared a laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sneaking around was way harder when you had to sleep in the same room as the entire village.

Somehow the Great Hall had managed to come out of that dreadful raid relatively unscathed, and it was absolutely full to bursting with homeless Vikings. Astrid and her parents included.

Having so many loud, aggressive people in one room, already filled with adrenaline and emotionally volatile, was a dangerous concoction. More than a few fist fights broke out as the sun was finishing descent.

As night fell, the people of Berk all drifted into slumber. Packed like sardines in the once spacious building.

Once Astrid was sure, absolutely positive without a shadow of a doubt, that everyone was sleeping, she got to work.

She wasn’t too worried about waking anyone up, Vikings were generally heavy sleepers. But when you were sneaking out to meet with a dragon, one could never be too careful.

She put her stealth training to good use, stepping as lightly as possible. Nimbly avoiding the snoring bodies scattered on the floor.

She was extra careful when tiptoeing past her parents.

She crept through the hallway, beneath massive tapestries depicting tales of Vikings triumphantly slaying vicious dragons. Considering what she was about to do, they only served to make her feel weird.

Soon she arrived at the Hall’s towering doors, and did one last quick check to ensure she’d went unnoticed.

…

Alright, the coast was clear.

She gently opened the door-

“What are you doing?”

It took every ounce of willpower Astrid had to keep from shouting in surprise, or to turn and immediately assault whoever was standing behind her.

Swallowing the yell that’d almost left her mouth, she glanced back to see Fishlegs staring at her. She hadn’t even spoken yet, and he was already trembling with fear.

Astrid shushed him, and frantically looked around to see if anyone was stirring. “What are you doing up?” She harshly whispered.

“W-Well I- “She shushed him again, and he spoke his next words in a quiet tone. “I-I heard someone sneaking around, and I came to check it out…”

Astrid grumbled. Of course he was a light sleeper…

On the one hand, she was upset she was caught at all. On the other, at least she was caught by Fishlegs of all Vikings.

As silently as possible, she brandished her axe. “What I’m doing is none of your business! But if you tell anybody, it’s gonna be your business…got that?” She threateningly whispered.

The rotund boy held his hands up in surrender, and mimed zipping his lip. Quivering the entire time.

Satisfied that he was sufficiently scared, she nodded. She shoved her axe’s blade dangerous close to his face. “Now go to sleep!” She commanded. Without a second thought, he did as he was told.

Rolling her eyes, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. That was a close one…

Though, it kinda wasn’t at the same time?

She finally exited the Great Hall. Reading Hiccup’s notes on the way to the Ring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Astrid did indeed see the Nadder that night.

And the next night. And the night after that.

For an entire week she’s been meeting with the dragon. Slowly but surely, she’s been getting it to trust her. And she’d learned a fair bit about it too.

Its favorite food was chicken, a fact she learned when her dinner was once again stolen by the beast. Thankfully it didn’t spit it back up this time…

She learned it really liked being stroked on its tail, an activity Astrid only participated in for the sake of her mission.

She learned it was quite the prideful creature, always preening itself and strutting about confidently. As a test, Astrid threw a compliment its way. It almost trampled her in its attempts to nuzzle her.

It seemed between her time feeding it, reluctantly scratching it, making it chase a speck of light reflecting off her shield, and doing all the other inane crap Hiccup detailed in that book of his...a bond had been formed.

A completely one-sided bond. Astrid couldn’t care less whether that thing lived or died. In fact, she’d prefer if it died.

She thought such things as she rubbed its belly. The dragon writhing with delight.

Sometimes she’d just…talk to it. Astrid was never one to share her emotions with others, but this was just a dumb dragon. It wouldn’t understand anything she was saying, so what’s the harm?

They were both laying on the arena’s floor, staring up at the crescent moon. The shield-maiden was leaning back on the creature’s side. But only because it was cold in the ring, and she was using the dragon’s body heat to her advantage.

As she did, she divulged her innermost thoughts. “I’m just…scared. I’m scared for my tribe. I just want my people to not live in fear of dragons any more…I’m really hoping you can help me out with that…” She huffed, and her cynical attitude returned. “But you don’t care about any of that, do you? You just want me to feed you…”

The dragon beneath her shifted, and turned its head to regard her. When she looked into its eyes, and she’d never admit this aloud, she saw herself.

The spirit of a warrior. The drive to protect those you care about, and beat the snot out of anyone that threatens them. The will to fight, and never stop fighting.

All that she saw, in those yellow, reptilian eyes.

The Nadder gave a quiet squawk, and Astrid could swear it was trying to say something to her. She could almost hear the words in her soul.

“I will fight with you. We’ll change this world for the better! Humans and dragons will fight no more!”

She gazed at the dragon, lost in its surprisingly soulful eyes. Tentatively, without even realizing what she was doing, she reached a hand towards its nose…

And snapped back to reality, immediately retracting it.

She quickly stood, and began gathering her things. “I gotta go. Get back in your cage.” She swiftly ordered.

The Deadly Nadder didn’t seem to like this. It protested with dismayed squawks and longing chirps, while stomping its big feet. As the nights passed, it wanted to return to its cell less and less.

Astrid sighed as she watched the display, it reminded her of a child throwing a little tantrum. “Look, I’ll be back tomorrow. Just get in there…please.”

Half-heartedly, the dragon did as it was told. Entering its cage with a sad trill. Once the doors were locked, Astrid began her return for the Great Hall. Snuffing out the torches as she left. And picking up her discarded axe on the way.

And thus concluded another night of dragon training.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As one week became two, Astrid achieved her greatest accomplishment with the Nadder yet.

They had flown.

They were in the Ring, as usual. And the dragon was acting strange. It was staring up, out through the cage-like covering of the arena. Gazing up at the sky, and occasionally agitatedly flapping its wings.

The girl watched the reptile as it preformed these strange behaviors, wondering just what it wanted. Then she realized what it looked like it was doing.

“Do you…want to fly?”

As soon as those words were uttered, the Deadly Nadder tromped over excitedly. Chirping noisily. Astrid desperately tried to quiet it down, hoping no one had heard it.

“Would you quiet down!?” She pleaded.

The dragon backed away, and proceeded to do the strangest thing she’s observed a dragon doing.

Once more, it looked to the sky and flapped about. But then it returned its gaze to Astrid, and gently prodded her with its snout. It repeated the process a few times, as the teen was trying to work out just what it meant.

“It points to the sky, then it points to me…the sky…then me…”

Then it hit her.

“You want to fly…with me?” The reptile chirped and squawked joyously at this, confirming her answer.

A shot of adrenaline raced through her body. This was it! Finally, she’d use the dragon to find the nest! It was all coming together!

She remembered Hiccup’s writing, about flying for the first time. He mentioned falling. A lot.

Hastily, she looked for anything she could use to hold on with. Her eyes landed on some unused rope, just sitting in a basket.

With a grin, she grabbed it. And eagerly guided the dragon outside.

Once they were standing in the cool night air, Astrid wrapped the rope around dragon’s neck. Careful not to strangle it. All the while she was shaking with anticipation.

As excited as she was, she made sure to strap her axe to her back. She couldn’t leave the poor thing lying here.

As she hopped onto its back, she thought of all that was to come. Finding the nest, alerting the chief as soon as he returned from his trip, planning the attack, and finally ending the war.

She wasn’t even thinking about the praise she’d get…okay, she was thinking about it a little. But that truly wasn’t what mattered to her. She was elated with the thought that her tribe was so close to being freed from the dragon scourge.

These thoughts and more echoed through her mind as the Nadder spread its wings.

Sitting up, Astrid took on an authoritative tone. “Alright, dragon! Take me to your- “

She never got to finish that sentence, as it immediately evaporated once they launched into the air.

She struggled to keep her composure, fighting the scream about to erupt from her throat, as the ground became smaller and smaller. She held onto the dragon’s neck for dear life, as they soared into the clouds.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could feel the wind rushing across her body. Whipping her braid about. She could hear the creature’s mighty wingbeats.

Astrid tried to get a grip on herself. “Don’t be a coward. Open your eyes. You’re not scared. You’re a Viking! You’re not scared!” She thought.

Slowly, she peered her eyes open…

And was absolutely amazed at what she witnessed.

The sky was a deep blue, all around her. A multitude of wispy clouds surrounding them.

They were miles in the air, flying over the ocean. Yet, Astrid didn’t feel afraid of falling. She felt strangely…safe.

They drifted amongst the sea stacks, the dragon’s claws skimming the surface of the water. That salty sea smell wafting throughout the area.

The stars twinkled brilliantly, and from up here, they seemed closer than ever. Astrid felt like she could almost touch the moon.

They ascended even higher into the night sky. The girl gawked at the waves of color dancing in her vision. As they gently glided amongst the northern lights, she couldn’t take her eyes off them.

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face if she’d tried.

She glanced back down to the dragon she was riding with a newfound appreciation. Demon or not, this was pretty cool. It was amazing.

She reached a hand out to affectionately scratch its neck. “Thank you…for showing me this.” It cheerily chirped in response.

They flew for a bit longer, enjoying the sights and each other’s company.

Things took a turn for the worse, however, when Astrid noticed a wall of fog in their way.

“Hmm, guess it’s time to head back.” She tried to turn the dragon around, but it wouldn’t comply. It just kept flying forwards.

“Hey, dragon. I said turn around!” Once more, the Nadder ignored her. It almost seemed dazed, or in a trance of some kind. It wasn’t responding to her at all.

It flew right into the fog, seemingly undeterred by the overwhelming haze.

It was impossible to see in this fog. Astrid whipped her head around, trying to find anything, but she couldn’t tell up from down in here.

She was just about to try and get the dragon to return to Berk, when she heard the sounds of distant screeches.

A large, winged, reptilian silhouette appeared from beside them. She quickly crouched down to avoid detection, as a Monstrous Nightmare soared in. Carrying a sheep in its talons.

To her right, a pudgy and spherical form buzzed in. It was a Gronckle, carrying an array of fish in its mouth.

Soon enough, she was in the midst of a whole flock of dragons. All of them carrying food, or livestock.

“…This must be where they go when they steal our food!” She thought to herself. “But where are they taking it?”

Her internal question was soon answered, as the fog began to clear.

The girl released a silent gasp, as she looked upon the landscape below her.

It was an island, a small one. Completely grey, not a smidgen of plant life could be seen. Its centerpiece was an imposing volcano, jutting into the sky with its razor-sharp edges. Dripping with lava on all sides.

And it was swarming with dragons.

Feelings of jubilation and dread churned from within Astrid, as she realized just where she was.

She’d done it. She’d done what no other Viking could.

She’d found their ticket to ending this war. To freeing her people.

She’d found the nest.