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wilderness offspring

Chapter 33: vrækæ

Summary:


avenge, take vengeance for;

Notes:

so,,, hello.

I have no excuses lol, my brain doesn't work.

 

the absolutely amazing art at the top of the chapter is by @2cats1trenchcoat on tumblr!! go give them some love!! (original link)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text





Within an instant the dragon master has shot to his feet, halfway to the door, the nightfury following closely behind, before the boy's words have had a chance to sink in for anybody else. Astrid jumps to her feet to follow, rushing out the hall in a desperate attempt to keep pace.

Before them in a strange sight - there's a dragon, one of the largest she's ever seen, with a flat horned head and two pairs of layered wings. From the unknown dragon's back a humanoid figure descends. By its proportions alone it's likely human, but clad in a spiked mask, stained an unnatural teal, with gaping void-like eyes and, seemingly, no mouth to speak of. The rest of its body does seem to lend itself more to humanity, however; it - she? - wears the remnants of what once would have been a shift, dress, and cloak; the fabric is worn and ragged, torn short at the bottom, stained by dirt and grass.

It's clear that the dragon master knows this person - he races towards her, almost barrelling into her in a dragon-like show of affection. With a series of chirps he bounces around the person, nudging his head into her shoulder and then bouncing over to the strange dragon, crooning lowly as it leans down, pushing its head to the crest of the dragon master's mask. The nightfury - the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself - grins, his teeth somehow gone, and pounces upon the woman, who seems entirely unaffected by the Fury Of The Night, the scourge of every Norse tribe, pinning her to the grass.

Astrid approaches the newcomers with a healthy dose of caution, although she's not necessarily afraid. Clearly this is the assistance that the dragon master had called on almost a month ago, and while the knowledge that there's more than one dragon rider is mildly terrifying, she definitely isn't going to risk offending the newcomer.

They'll need all the help they can get. 

The new rider catches her eye - or so she assumes - but, before she can be approached, Stormfly swoops in, along with the rest of the dragon master’s flock. She briefly greets the woman and new dragon, in much the same manner as the dragon master did, but is quickly distracted by Astrid’s presence, bounding over to nuzzle the Viking, chittering with excitement. Astrid lets her attention be diverted, content that there’s no threats to be monitored, in order to scratch Stormfly in that one spot under her chin.

Only a few moments pass before something shifts in her peripheral vision, and she glances up, to find that the dragon trainer- no, tamer- has approached her, bent over in that cautious, draconic crouch that heavily reminds Astrid of the dragon master's own gait. While her people remain cautious of the strangers movements, keeping away and huddled together, Astrid stays in place, standing with confidence, but not aggression, as she approaches. Overhead, thunder rumbles, and whispers of portents spread like a contagion through the crowd.

"Stormfly,” the stranger begins, confirming her apparent gender. "you trust this human?"

For a moment, Astrid is puzzled. The woman can, clearly, speak the dragon-language, just like the dragon master can - so why speak in stilted, faltering Norse instead? But then it clicks - the newcomer wants Astrid to hear, wants her to understand that there is animosity between them which, honestly, Astrid can respect. If only regular diplomacy was so straightforward.

Stormfly makes an odd clicking sound, and - while Astrid doesn't know the exact meaning - it must be positive, as the stranger straightens, staring the norsewoman down through the pitch eyes of that inhuman mark.

There's a drawn-out moment of expectant silence, before the stranger finally speaks.

"...Your name, human?" she addresses her, with an exasperation to her tone that implies that Astrid is the strange one for not volunteering that information straight away.

"Astrid," she stands taller, refusing to be intimidated by this off putting power play. "Astrid Sumarliðidóttir."

If the stranger wasn't wearing her mask, Astrid would have witnessed the flash of recognition that flits, for a moment, through the stranger's features. But, instead, all she gets is another drawn-out silence.

She has to resist the urge to shrink under the perceived judgement - she forces herself to straighten her back, setting her shoulders in her signature defensive stance, cleanly communicating to Tribe elders and would-be suitors alike that she is not to be underestimated.

"Fine." The stranger announces, without any prompting. She then mutters something unintelligible to the dragon master, who chirps happily, pushing their heads together once more, after which the stranger remounts her foreign dragon, taking off into the storm-ridden sky in a single beat of those fearsome wings.

With the stranger gone, all eyes turn to the dragon master, who shrinks a little under the weight of so many sets of eyes, but is still clearly excited as he approaches her.

"Will help us!" he explains, before Astrid has a chance to ask what the Hel that was about. "She not trust humans much, sorry."

"It's fine..?" she replies, unsure. "What's the plan, then?

"Scout more," he states, simply, and annoyance rises in Astrid as she remembers his comment, from mere minutes ago (even though it feels like hours) that he 'needs them'. Before she can voice her complaint, however, he continues. "All" - he gestures to both of them, and then to her peers, all watching with varying emotions (from excitement to barely-concealed fear) - "need to check the nest, on dragons, make a plan."

Astrid pauses for a moment, before deciding that his words are agreeable enough. "Fine. When do you want to leave?"

—------------------

Stoick watches the disappearing form of this new dragon-rider with a blank face, the facade all he can manage. Within, however, his emotions are a rolling storm, Thor’s thunder a backdrop to his escalating rage. 

He knows that dragon. 

Despite his best efforts to suppress the memories of that night, the scene still plays out before him; the same thunder rolling overhead, the same late-evening light, the sun’s dying light slowly vanishing over the horizon, the stain of petrichor in the air. The final glimpses of his wife, his Valka , as that infernal beast stole her away, the same grotesque claws clamped around her struggling form. Hiccup’s wails-

And it makes sense, doesn’t it? That his son’s murderer would have no qualms with working alongside his wife’s killer? 

To make it worse, somehow, if that’s even possible, there’s the matter of the rider. Because, despite his hatred, the beasts are just that; beasts. Creatures. Animals. Incapable of human reason and emotion. But that rider- they dare to clothe themselves in the torn scraps of Valka’s own clothes, adorning themselves with the stolen remnants of the very life that they snuffed out.

And he knows, in that moment, that he must act. Astrid is clearly compromised , so willing to go along with the creatures’ plans, already commanding her peers to go pack for their scouting mission, so willing to do the monster’s bidding. The only one who shows any hesitance is Snotlout; the twins are willing to go along with anything that gets them off of Berk and away from restrictions on their chaos, and Fishlegs is too invested in researching the beasts. Now he only needs to get him alone..

Notes:

really short chapter, sorry!! this the next chapter was meant to be one, but i thought it made more sense to split it. does mean yous should have a new chapter soon!! or at least not in 8 months time,,,

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