Tip the Dragon Scales

Chapter 13

Ragnar sees Stoick drag Hiccup off toward the Mead Hall. Unfortunately, he can't do much about it as Gothi drags him off to the healer's hut.

"Gothi, I'm fine," he tells her yet again. "Really."

She raises her eyebrows in challenge and reaches out to poke him in the ribs, smirking when it makes him flinch.

"Okay. My ribs hurt," Ragnar admits, back to protectively cradling his side. "They're only bruised though. Not even cracked."

Gothi narrows her eyes and stares at him for a long moment before she nods in agreement. She turns and grabs a folded cloth off the table behind her, quickly dipping it in a bucket of water.

Ragnar holds still as she washes the cut on his cheek, wincing only slightly at the sting. "What do you think?" he asks with a smirk. "Will it scar?"

It only earns him an unamused look as Gothi drops the cloth in favor of a small jar filled with a sharp-smelling ointment. She wastes no time in smearing it across the cut, shaking her head as she does.

Ragnar sighs at the continued silence (even for Gothi). "I'm not sorry I went into the ring," he tells her, "and I refuse to apologize for something I don't regret."

Gothi twists one hand in an odd little motion as she replaces the jar on a nearby shelf. Then she points at him and picks up her staff- shaking it and quietly tapping the floor.

He frowns at her. "You know, you've got a quite a mouth on you," he says, quickly pulling his leg back to avoid a smack to the shin. "No. No. I'm impressed. Really."

She smiles and nods toward the door.

Ragnar blinks in mild surprise. "You're- you're just gonna let me go?" he asks uncertainly. "I mean, you know what this means. You know what happens next."

Gothi steps forward and reaches up to cup his uninjured cheek. The two of them share a long, unblinking stare before she gives him a fond pat and steps back, motioning at the door again.

"Thanks, Gothi," he says with a smile.

Nothing more needs to be said.

Ragnar darts to the back of the room and grabs the bag he packed the night he asked the gods for answers. It's larger than the one constantly on his hip and filled with bandages, burn salves, fever reducers, and pain relievers- everything the vision seemed to indicate he would need.

He slings the bag's strap across his chest, stops long enough to press a kiss to Gothi's cheek, then hurries out the door and straight for the Mead Hall.

He crosses paths with Stoick on the way there and the thunderous expression on the chief's face is enough for him to know he's too late to run interference between Hiccup and his father.

Ragnar skids to a stop when the man steps in front of him. He swallows hard and resolutely looks up to meet his eyes.

"You knew," Stoick says simply, massive arms crossed as he scowls down at the young healer.

"I know a lot of things," Ragnar tells him. It does absolutely nothing to calm his anger.

"Is this some sort of joke to you?" Stoick demands. He gestures sharply toward the docks. "I asked if I should search for the nest, and you told me the war would end soon."

"Chief-"

"I come back from yet another useless search only to find out my son- my own son- has allied himself with those demons. And you've been helping him!"

"Hiccup makes his own decisions," Ragnar tells him firmly. "I'm always ready to stand beside him, but I had no more a hand in how things have played out than anyone. You can't control fate." He smirks. "And you certainly can't control Hiccup."