A Fistful of Dragons

Part 19: Countdown

Nineteen: Countdown.

It had been frustrating, trying to fire the pistol Astrid had brought him. His broken hand made holding the pistol agonising and the wrappings he needed to support the broken bones meant he couldn't grip the weapon as tightly as he needed. His aim was off and his draw was appalling...and both would cost him his life. But he had shot again and again until his arm was numb and his ears ringing...but the pain and the wrappings foiled him. So finally he slumped forward, exhausted and dispirited.

"Have a break," Astrid said gently, offering him a mug of some herbal tea she had brewed. He accepted wordlessly, really wishing for a cup of mead but knowing there was zero chance of that.

"I can't hope to finish Dagur if I'm this useless," he murmured. "He'd shoot my ass off."

"And such a cute ass," Astrid smirked. His green eyes flicked up to inspect her face. It was three days now since he'd escaped from Berk and while the bruises on his face were starting to fade, his more serious injuries had only just started healing. He smiled back: Astrid had stuck firmly to his side, only flying back to Gothi's once to check on her brother, and caring for him as his own personal nurse. She had practiced her shooting as well-she was a pretty fair shot, as Ryder had noted with surprise-though she had explained her father had wanted her not to be helpless. Neither one mentioned that one brave woman was little match for an entire gang of utterly amoral Berserkers.

"You know, I never did get to inspect yours," he reminded her and she punched him in the shoulder. He yelped and glared at her. "Owww! I'll never heal if you keep give me new bruises to add to my collection!" She leaned forward and dared a peck on the cheek.

"Better?" she asked him and he stared at her in shock. Then he pulled himself together and hummed in pleasure.

"I think I just died and went to Valhalla!" he murmured causing her to blush fiercely. "Which is where I'll be if I can't manage to shoot straight!"

"You are awesome," she reminded him. "You don't just lose all that...it'll come back...in time..." But his emerald gaze flicked up as he heard Leo limp into the mine, murmuring hellos to the dragons. Wincing and giving her hand a squeeze, Ryder stiffly got up and walked achingly toward his Uncle. The man had brought yet another upgrade to Toothless's tail and the dragon obediently lined up waiting for it to be fitted. Ryder's own skills-he was a fair blacksmith when he put his mind to it-had enabled him to help Leo work the kinks out of the tail assembly-especially as he had insisted on flying the thing strictly against Gothi's orders. The two men had worked well together but there was something that Ryder needed to ask him. So he waited until Toothless had sprinted to the entrance, showing off his tail excitedly to Stormfly and Star and sighed.

"Be with you in a moment, bud," he murmured. "Just got something I need to ask Leo." The older man lifted his face and grimaced.

"Y'know, that sounds anything but good," he sighed. Ryder walked closer, still limping slightly as his Uncle clumsily got up. "What is it, Hiccup? Can I help you with anything?" Ryder gestured to his left hand.

"How did you cope?" he asked directly and saw the man wince. He closed his eyes for a long moment and took a shuddering breath.

"You know I was left-handed...like you are?" Ryder nodded. "When Alvin took me down, he made sure he...cut off my trigger finger so I could never threaten him again. He broke my hand...both my legs...and when the Whispering Death attacked, I instinctively threw up my hand to protect myself...and well, there wasn't much left...just enough to grip a pencil." Ryder closed his eyes and grimaced. Then he heard Leo walk closer and felt the man's right hand grip his face and lift his chin. He opened his eyes to gaze into the scarred face-almost his own face twenty years hence, if he had been on the wrong side of Alvin.