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Tempered Flames: Chapter 6 (Beta Copy)
🕑 Added 2020-03-25 10:33:03 +0000 UTC“So, is Mister Moody your leader, then?”
Astrid looked up as Heather the Dragon Hunter took a seat on the bench next to her. She felt herself bristle defensively towards the question. “He’s not…” Astrid paused, making a sour face. Her voice dipped lower, “Okay, well he’s a little moody right now. But he did save your life.”
“You all saved my life,” the woman brushed her long black hair over her shoulder. “He’s the only one that threatened it afterward. I saw his hand on that sword, and I’ve seen that pose enough to know the intent.” She wiped a finger over her nose, removing a faint pale smudge of ash and looking at it.
Without her cloak, Heather looked… well, exceptional. She was muscular without being disturbingly showy. Her body was lean and held power in the small movements, and Astrid couldn’t help watching the light glint of moonshine of her multitude of blades.
“Like what you see?” Heather asked, noticing Astrid’s look.
A furious blush came over Astrid’s soft cheeks. “I-I,” she stammered, straightening and looking away, “I just never seen someone without an axe. You know? All of us on Berk use them, unless you count Warhammers. You’re all daggers and knives.”
“Berk, hmm?” Heather stroked her chin before she shrugged. “I’ve never been good with axes. I can throw a hatchet, sure, but most of the…” she paused, “of my tribe, they use battleaxes that are nearly the size of my whole body.”
“But wouldn’t it be hard to pierce a dragon’s hide with just a dagger.”
A nod. “Of course. That’s why you don’t strike it’s hide.” Heather rose from the bench, coming in front of Astrid. “Here, pretend I’m a dragon.”
“Aren’t you a little short for a dragon?”
Heather smirked, her eyebrow cocking playfully. “And you’re not meaty enough to be my snack,” she shot back before looking up. “Your friend though… she’s getting there.”
Astrid frowned, turning to look over her shoulder. She spied Ruffnut laying openly on a bench with a strip of salted meat still in a grubby paw. Her undershirt was slightly pulled up over the smooth curve of a forming belly.
“Gross…” Astrid muttered, knowing she wasn’t all that far behind the softie. Beneath the skillful Heather’s watchful eyes, she felt as if she were twice her size. A frustrated growl escaped her, irrationally irritated at herself for not keeping up with the world.
“You say gross,” Heather stretched her arms up over her head, eliciting several loud cracks from her toned back. “I say the ultimate goal for the female body.” She dropped her arms and sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to have a girl like that.”
Astrid turned back up to her, frowning. “To have a girl? You want a daughter like… Ruffnut?”
Heather chuffed a light laugh. “Not quite. But you’re losing focus,” she placed a hand on her hip. “So, dragon. Right? Both of my sides,” she twirled, showing her body, “are completely covered in scales that will break most piercing steel, yes?”
“Okay.”
“An axe is useful because you can put more leverage into the swing.” She hefted an imaginary dual-handed weapon and swung it down, pivoting her body. “Gravity does a lot of the work, but the blade will still get damaged, or might get stuck in the dragon. During a raid, there’s too many dragons flying around your ships, and you don’t have time to deal with getting a new weapon.”
“Around your… ships?”
“Well how else are you supposed to raid a dragon’s nest?” Heather asked.
Astrid blinked at her. “You… raid them?” she was incredulous.
“Of course,” Heather sounded smug, checking her nails. “The dragons wouldn’t dare come near Drago…” her eyes suddenly sharpened, her words becoming a stumble. “Um, my chieftain,” she explained. “Our tribe. They wouldn’t dare come after us.”
Astrid frowned, feeling way out of her depth. “Why not?”
“Because they know that they’d die,” Heather shrugged.
A chill passed through the air, giving Astrid goosebumps up her soft pale skin. She felt a discomfort on her neck and turned to look around.
Hiccup was at the rudder, guiding the ship as the others rested. She couldn’t see his eyes from where she was, but something told her his focus wasn’t on steering. ‘I won’t kill them,’ he had said to her, as if confessing some great sin.
And then they had traveled into fire.
She felt compelled to whisper back to Heather, “S-so… um… how do you kill them?”
Heather’s grin grew sharp, her eyes pulling down to complete a wicked-looking smile. Suddenly, the girl looked much larger, stepping closer. A girl become dragon bearing down as Astrid’s unsuspecting fate. “You take one of these,” Heather lifted a dagger from her waist, sliding it out of its cover like a draconic roar before twirling it in her fingers and offering the handle to Astrid. With her other hand she made Astrid take the blade, wrapping her fingers beneath her own. “And you place it against their soft, fat underbelly… and you push.”
Astrid tried to let go, tried to pull out, but she couldn’t look away from Heather’s scaly green eyes.
The dagger crawled forward, poking into the thick leather of her belt and passing through it like it wasn’t even there.
Astrid gulped, feeling completely intimidated. She tugged back but Heather had her, those eyes held her. With irises nearly the width of the entire eye, Heather whispered. “And then, you…”
A sudden tug upward and Astrid gasped. The blade was flung up, slicing through the belt and slicing it cleanly through. Heather twisted the hand, barely avoiding the cut to her chest and passing by her face without even looking. The leather straps snapped and the belt fell to the ground.
“You carve them up through their neck,” Heather bit her lip, “and hope you did a good enough job. Or else, you’re her next meal.”
Astrid’s breath was shaking. She slid back on the seat, still holding the dagger and feeling extremely uncomfortable. The sensation of looking up into her eyes, that the whole world was briefly the size of their arms but was now rapidly widening.
“Astrid?”
She turned to see Hiccup standing over her. But he wasn’t looking at Astrid.
He glared at the huntress. “What did you do?” he asked threateningly.
Heather chuckled, leaning back. Her ripped belt fell to the deck bellow. “Trust me, that lesson is a lot less threatening than when my chieftain gives it,” she sank onto the opposing bench. “In his lesson, you’re the dragon.”
“Are you okay?” Hiccup leaned down, looking Astrid over.
She felt her mouth tug into a scowl. “I’m fine, Hiccup.” She set the dagger down, though made sure she was an extra inch away.
“Yes, Hiccup of Berk. We’re just having a… girls’ talk.”
Hiccup said nothing for a few moments. Without looking at her Hiccup asked Astrid, “Did you tell her where we’re from?”
“Umm… yes?” Astrid shook her head. “Hiccup, come on. You’re being ridiculous. It’s us against the dragons.”
“There’s more dangerous threats than dragons.” He said it simply, his belief as solid as his suspicion. He watched Heather, who again uncaringly brushed a hand over her scalp.
“Believe as you wish. For now, I am just along for the ride. Maybe your dragon slayer will understand me better than any of you,” she snickered with mirth.
“Maybe,” Astrid shrugged. “But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? It’s been… years, since we’ve even seen active dragons. Some of us were beginning to think they’d been wiped out.”
“Hmm… that’s… interesting,” Heather said. She leaned back, looking up into the sky and avoiding Hiccup’s narrowed eyes. “I wonder if…”
She abruptly went quiet. As swift as a bow she snapped out of her seat.
“Something is above us,” she stated, her hands going to her knives. “We’re being watched.”
Hiccup blanched, turning up rapidly. Astrid did too, craning her neck. All she saw was the stars twinkling in the open air. “What? Are you su-”
“It’s coming from behind,” Hiccup said. “It’s descending.” He sounded relieved.
Astrid spun about, looking at the aft of the ship. Even knowing which direction didn’t help. She heard the beat of wings before she could hear it, and the midnight raven descended down upon the mast.
Tension flowed out of Heather and Hiccup like a gust of fire. “It’s one of dad’s ravens. Huginn, I think.”
The raven cawed loudly.
“Or… Muninn.”
It fluttered down from the top, landing with sharp talons atop of Ruffnut’s exposed stomach. She barely even muttered in her sleep until it cawed once more, sending her screaming off the side of her bench and the raven flapping over to Hiccup’s now offered arm.
“The hell?!” Ruffnut complained.
“Whu-” another sleepy teen, Snotlout, looked up from beneath a horned helmet. He blinked at the scene, decided they weren’t worth the wake, and descended back to sleep.
“Woah, hey there. Hey, Muninn. Astrid, get me some beef for him,” Hiccup instructed, lifting a hand and stroking the bird’s side. “Hey, where’s your brother?”
Astrid went to the barrel, passing by the sour faced Ruffnut. The irate blonde lifted her shirt rubbed at her tummy “Stupid bird…”
Astrid looked back to see Heather had moved off to the side, sitting with her back against the hull of the ship. She was watching Ruffnut rather than looking at the raven and saw Astrid’s look.
She winked.
Astrid retrieved the meat, bringing it back to Hiccup and offering it for the bird. It gave a throaty coo that sounded appreciative as it snapped the salted meat from her hand, using a talon to hold it on Hiccup’s forearm while it ripped it into smaller chunks. He was whispering calmly to the bird, gently stroking its other side.
“He looks tired,” Hiccup said. “Must have been flying since Dad sent them ahead. I wonder if he knows we got lost.”
“Maybe… but, bird’s aren’t that smart, right?”
Hiccup turned to her, lifting a speculative eyebrow. “You… don’t have a lot of faith in animals, do you?”
The young woman shrugged. “I mean, not really? I’ve only ever seen the ravens with your dad.”
Hiccup sighed. “Ravens are exceptionally smart. Huginn and Muninn even moreso. Dad named them after Odin’s ravens, and used to use them as early warnings about the dragon attacks. Now he uses them as guides for ships, or as messengers to distant islands.”
“Are they really that old?” Astrid asked, looking from side to side as it gulped down another string of meat.
“… Astrid, this bird is older than we are. They’re both twenty-two.”
She frowned at him, crossing her arms. “Just cause I don’t know about them doesn’t mean you have to tease me.”
Hiccup gave her an uncomfortable look that suggested he wasn’t lying. He shook his head, turning back to the bird. “Where’s your brother, boy? Did you come looking for us?”
Muninn cawed sharply, twisting back down to the beef. He pecked at it and Astrid saw the claws poking into Hiccups bare flesh. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Hmm?” Hiccup glanced. “Oh, uhh, kinda. I’ve had worse things claw my arms.”
Astrid blinked at him. “There’s… nothing else on our island, though. And I don’t think the sheep have claws.”
“Well, have you ever checked?” he smirked.
“Now I know you’re messing with me,” she hugged herself, frowning at him with displeasure. “Seriously, what do you mean? Did you find a…” she glanced over towards Heather and something clicked.
A lengthy pause followed, with Hiccup tending to the bird. “Your feathers are a little ruffled. You didn’t run into anything too bad, did you? Looks like he got a bit spooked.”
Astrid coughed, drawing his look. “Is that how you know about… them?” she asked, tapping her foot against the ship’s deck.
Hiccup squinted, obviously not understanding.
Astrid tapped it again, her lips mulling it over. “You know. Going out on your own. Is that where you…” she again felt her eyes dart towards Heather. “Learned about the sea?”
Hiccup’s face tried to become stone. But the young man wasn’t his father, not even close. His cheeks lighted with a tint of discomfort, his posture rocking with the waves rather than moving in step. It took him a moment to think before his eyes connected with hers and the defensiveness went out. “Maybe,” he nodded. “I know what I’m talking about.”
Astrid moved the bangs out of her eyes, feeling a chill in the air. “You seem to know more about animals then you do people, sometimes.”
Instantly, she regretted saying it. The uncomfortable wince looked like her words did more damage than the talons ever could.
But Astrid was a Viking. She didn’t say things that she didn’t mean, didn’t lie just because the truth hurt. The truth was simply the truth, nothing more and nothing less. Still, she felt bad, and reached for her flask.
“Here,” she offered it to him.
He looked from her to the flask.
She shook it. “Come on, have some. Before I take it all for myself.”
“Actually, if you’re off-” Heather began.
Hiccup took it before she could finish, popping off the top with one hand and taking a full swig. For some reason, that deeply comforted Astrid, unspoken words flowing between them.
Muninn cawed and hopped towards his shoulder, seeking a more stable perch while Hiccup tried to not cough out his liver. He used his free arm to cover his mouth, though his eyes were watering from the effort of not doubling over.
To show her approval, Astrid returned the gesture. She took the flask from him and snapped her head back, drinking deeply and swallowing two mouthfuls before her gut kicked back and she sent her into a soft splutter to cover her pride.
When she recovered, he was nodding to her, wearing a small but still visible grin.
“Maybe,” he relented.
“But,” Astrid slowly suggested, “that just means I’ll have to… follow your lead. Doesn’t it?”
He laughed at that, a short little chuckle. “Well, we’d stay alive longer…” his eyes nervously twitched towards Muninn. “I hope.”
“Your confidence is very inspiring,” she said sarcastically.
“Thanks. I grew it myself.”
She snorted, a giggle flowing out of her and brightening his face. Muninn cawed again, lifting up off his shoulder and flapping its wings. It landed towards the bow.
“I think he’s ready to guide us,” Hiccup supposed. “Will you keep an eye on him, and I’ll go to the rudder?”
“Sure,” she agreed, feeling much more at piece than when the conversation began. She couldn’t be positive, but she believed the alcohol was probably the best supply that she could have brought.
“Seriously, though, if that’s what I think it is I could use a stiff-” Heather began, but a glare from Hiccup silenced her. “Alright, fine, shutting up.” She rolled her neck, sagging down against the curve of the bulkhead. “You’re no fun.”
******************************************************************************
Muninn hopped along the bow of the ship, guiding their way throughout the night. They sailed at full mast, the cool breeze of the wind guiding the ship in a steady clip down towards the south.
Astrid’s eyes were beginning to feel heavy. The adrenaline from the night was long gone, leaving the young woman feeling drained. She munched on another portion of beef and bread, now having lost count of how many rations she’d taken from the barrel. It mixed pleasantly with the sips of alcohol that filled her stomach, but when she moved it left her feeling bloated and with uneasy footing against swelling waves.
She’d taken up a position sitting against the mast itself. A blink lasted a few moments too long before Muninn cawed irritably, causing her to straighten up and peer at the raven. “He’s to the right, again! Starboard!” she called back the course correction.
She could hear the low creaking of pounded wood washing beneath her. A minute passed, then two, with the washing of waves slowly sinking into the background until it all faded into a swirling mess. The only thing Astrid could focus on was her breathing, and even that felt like a labor beneath the swell in her belly. She’d eaten too much, drank far too much, and had been awake for far too long.
Sleep took her in it’s warm embrace, her fingers still wrapped around her tummy beneath her bright blue shirt.
She couldn’t know how long she slept. It felt long, but when she opened her eyes she was surprised to find the sun had yet to pierce the waves of misted gray.
That discomforted her, and she blinked several times to try and gain her bearing. The raven cooed softly from ahead, drawing her gaze. And then she saw it.
Looming like the thumb of a frost giant, the shadow of the island rose up through the fog at an unknowable height. It continued up and up, as far as her sight could see without being able to make out a single detail.
The sun had risen, but it was obscured in another pit of fog. Astrid flashed back uncomfortably to the heat of the blaze, finding that the air here was thick with the same sense of heavy heat. It graced her skin like the warmth of a hearth, putting her completely on edge.
She turned to see the others, each sitting off to the sides with only the twins grouped together. Nobody was talking, nor did they look back at her. Each watched the island as they approached. Hiccup continued to steer.
“We’re coming up on the shoreline,” he announced. “Snotlout, Fishlegs, when we flow onto the beach hop over the edge and use the ropes to drag us further. Be careful of the rudder.”
The men looked at each other before nodding.
“Tuffnut, do you see anywhere good to land from your side?”
“Uhhh… well, there’s the shore…” the teenager replied.
Ruffnut growled, “You idiot, he means like a beach.”
“The shore is a beach!”
“Is it rocky?” Hiccup asked.
“Well, yeah, that’s what a beach is isn’t it?”
The leader sighed. “Ruffnut, help.”
With a sigh that took way more effort than standing up did, Ruffnut lifted herself off the bench. “There’s a smooth area on our right. I don’t see any sharp rocks.”
“Thank you,” Hiccup grunted. He twisted the steering mechanism and they began to shift.
Ruffnut leaned further over the side. “Uhh, actually… I think there’s someone there.”
“What?”
Muninn cooed again before the raven abruptly took flight. It circled the ship’s mast before flowing over to the shoreline and coming onto a shadow that stood upon the gravel sands.
Another raven took off from the shadow’s side, undoubtably Huginn, and the two ravens squawked to one another before returning to the ship. They passed by Hiccup, flying over the aft and then returning to the mast.
As they drew closer, the island began to take shape. A small shore was set before a sky-scraping mountain, lifting into the smothering fog as if to prove its own might. A man stood upon the shore, watching them approach.
Astrid had expected him to be bigger. He wasn’t huge, like the Vikings she knew, wasn’t even particularly large. Around his shoulders, the man wore a bulky coat of gray furs. He wore no helmet over close cropped gray hair, no beard on his olive-colored skin. But something in the figure held a power undeniable, standing with a relaxed sense of complete control that put her on edge.
He looked… wrong. His clothing was wrong, his skin was wrong, his body language was wrong. Instead of a lightweight cloth, he wore mostly leathers and gleaming brown armors that somehow caught the sun even in this heavy fog. Beneath his abdomen he wore a studded belt where his hands now rested, one upon a hip, the other upon the pommel of an attached sword. Most of his legs were exposed, covered by what Astrid could only describe as a scarlet colored skirt.
She was so busy gaping that a jolt of surprise smacked into her legs when the ship hit the beach. Snotlout hopped out of the ship deftly, while Fishlegs’ foot caught on the side and he tumbled with a girlish scream into the wash.
Astrid grimaced, looking back to the man. His reaction was to remove his hand from his sword, which said a lot more than a silent act should.
The blonde Viking went to Fishlegs’ side and hopped over the edge. The boy was being dragged up alongside the boat, unable to find his footing in the sands. She snatched the rope and pulled him, along with the ship, forward.
Momentum did most of the work, comfortably beaching the ship while Fishlegs tried to remove the sticky grime of beaten gravel from his face and his leathers. “Nobody saw that, right?” he asked Astrid, hurrying to her side.
“Nope…” Astrid denied, glancing uncomfortably towards their would-be teacher. “Definitely not.”
The twins hopped down next, with Tuffnut pointing towards Fishlegs and winking. “I give the attempt a four.”
“… but your landing gets a two,” Ruffnut supplied. Even now, Astrid noticed that the girl didn’t fully dress. All she wore was a yellow cloth top beneath a leather tunic with matching yellow pants. The only piece of metal she wore was the helmet on her head, and even that seemed like it wasn’t properly fitting.
Heather dismounted with an inspiring level of grace, landing so well that she was already midstride before even grounding. “So, this is the place? It’s more… volcanic, than you made it seem.”
“Well it’s not like we knew anything about it either. We’ve never been here before.”
“You don’t think that’s an active volcano, do you?” she asked. “I’ve had enough of the heat for this trip.”
“Volcanos can appear at any place,” Fishlegs came in. “They erupt from the ground to form islands like this, but they maintain their volatile nature and can erupt again.”
Hiccup walked up behind the assembling group. “No. At least, I don’t think so. Look at the mountain, there’s no ash.”
“It makes me uncomfortable,” Heather honestly replied. “I feel almost like I’ve seen this place.”
Still, the man watched. A glint on his chest drew Astrid’s eyes to a piece of silver that was ingrained in the metal, with a small yellow glimmer coming from inside. Each of the shippers were watching him now, but Hiccup was the first to move ahead.
“Uhhh, hey there. Mister… guy,” Hiccup coughed.
Astrid could now make out the emblem on the imposing man’s breast. A wolf gazed upon them, staring each of the teens down with its topaz eye. It turned from person to person, reading their faces, saying nothing.
Again, Hiccup cleared his throat. “Is… uhh… is Adoramus here?”
The wolf turned to him, sizing him up as they did the man. The quiet grew louder, overtaking the noise from the rolling waves, smothering them beneath the gray furs.
They stared at each other, the elder unflinching while Hiccup fidgeted. “Cause, we’re supposed to-”
“Your father praised you.” The man spoke. His wording was harsh, almost scratchy, but the voice was resonant and strong. It filled the air while his foreign tongue shaped their words, shoving them through to be understood. “In his letter. He claims that you, all of you, are ready to move forward.”
Astrid walked up to Hiccup’s side. “We’re here to learn,” she said. “How to fight dragons. How to…” her eyes glanced to Hiccup, “to slay them.”
“It’s a bold claim,” his aged face turned up from them, looking up into the fog. “But I think it’s misplaced. I don’t see it in any of you. Even you,” he turned back down, staring directly at Heather, “Dragon Hunter.”
The others turned to the raven-haired girl, who put her hands to her hips before bowing. “These six saved my life. I’m only here because of them.”
“You forfeited your life. And you’ll forfeit it again if you ever go back. Take this chance and run for the mainland, or return to Berk with these children. If you return to your master, you’ll burn as well as any who willingly serve.”
“What is he talking about?” Astrid whispered.
Heather just continued to bow.
An uncommon noise escaped from the man. A sort of grunt that sounded as if he’d forgotten how to laugh. “So, you do understand,” his voice filled the air. “The power of silence. It is your ally, your friend, and if you make it, your biggest enemy.” He took a step forward, his sandals shuffling the sands beneath. “Listen,” he prompted.
They did.
Well, most of them did. Until none of them could.
“I don’t hear anything,” Ruffnut hissed.
“Shut up,” Tuffnut replied even louder.
Fishlegs growled. “Both of you need to be-”
“The boat…” Hiccup spun around. The rest followed, twirling to see. The fog that had filled the air was doubly thick around the back of the ship. Astrid saw that smoke was now broiling up from the wood, and then she could hear the hissing.
A fat green tail clapped against the top of the sea before a larger emerald head rose over the aft end of the ship. The hiss intensified, the dragon billowing steam with boiling waters spraying out of its snout. Another head lifted, then another, and huge fatty wings spread into the air.
“Scauldrons…”
“Our stuff!” Fishlegs shouted. He took two steps forward before Heather caught him around the chest.
“That water will melt the flesh off your bones!” she spat, holding him back.
“They’re wrecking our ship!”
“Indeed they are.” They turned back to the man, who was now walking away. “You’ve just sailed into one of the largest hotspots of dragons in the known world.”
The Scaudrons were crawling onto the deck, fat bodies filled with boiling liquid. One of the serpents twisted its neck around the mast, spraying water into the cloth and melting straight through.
Heather was the first to break off, accepting the loss of her cloak and hurrying after their senior. The others quickly followed, leaving Astrid and Hiccup to watch their ships destruction. “Glad I grabbed my axe…” Astrid said.
A sharp twist and she was held in the snake-like glare of black and green eyes. The closest Scauldron bubbled, steam puffing over its lips.
“We should go,” Hiccup told her.
“Don’t you… know, about these things?”
He nodded. “Enough to know that we should go.”
Astrid frowned at the scaly beast, refusing to back down from the glare, but keeping her hand away from her strap. The dragon’s wings lifted and fell, as if the beast were trying to show of its size. “We can’t run from them forever, Hiccup.”
“No, but we can right now if you’d turn around.”
She sighed, feeling like she’d already been kicked. “Well, what about him?” she looked back towards the man that was leading the party towards the cliffs. “Isn’t he, like, a great dragon slayer? Why didn’t he…” she gestured.
Hiccup’s eyes looked far away. When they returned, they brought with them a certain edge. “That is Adoramus Te. And I think we just got our first lesson. Come on.”
He hurried off after the group while the Scauldrons took their ship apart plank by plank and didn’t look back.
