Bond of Two Lands

15. Wounded Night Furies

"Toothless! Calm down, ay!" said Gobber. He grabbed the dragon's neck in an attempt to stop the intense movement. "Talk to me, dragon! Where do ya have Hiccup?"
"He seems upset." Fishlegs nervously said. "What if something's happened? Maybe the clan people has caught them!"
The blacksmith sent him a glare. "They wouldn't do that as soon as they found out who he was."
"Why? A skinny, one-legged control-freak doesn't seem too intimidating to me." Ruff shrugged.
She was - in much spite of her own will - awarded with a big lick from the Buffalord. The giant rodent still hadn't managed to calm down. Fishlegs gently lead him over to the grass at the other side of the cliff.
Gobber sighed. "He's not only a skinny, one-legged control-freak - don't call him that in front of Stoik, by the way - he's also the Heir of Berk. And as unlikely as it seems to us here, he's widely known as the Dragon Master of the Archipelago. Stories are told about him all around the islands. Why do ya think we've had peace with everyone but the Berserkers and Outcasts for so long? They don't dare attacking us anymore. And that, mi friends, is all because of Hiccup."
The group remained silent for several minutes.
Then, when everyone'd stopped pretending to calm the dragons or fix the supplies, Tuffnut said: "So, should we start worshipping him or something now? Because in that case, I suggest we build the altar on top of the clubhouse, where he's closest to the almighty Thor... or maybe Odin? What's his formal demigod name? Son of Thor? Defender of Odin? Or perhaps..."
"He's not a demigod!" Snotlout shouted. "No one is! And if anyone was, clearly it would be me."
"Quiet, lad!" Gobber demanded. "The dragon is trying to tell us something."
Everyone turned to Toothless again. The Night Fury had regained his wide pupils, rather than the wild, thin once he'd had when he'd first arrived, and puffed on Fishlegs with his head. Fishlegs stroke his head in return.
A second later, he gasped. "His leg!"
Where the black scales was divided by cracks, a thick, wooden arrow with a tail of white feathers was stuck. A Dun Broch arrow.

~~~~~

"Ya know I can tell when ya're upset." Fergus said. He took slow steps into the room, careful not to break any of the many piles of yarn. His wife sat at the loom in her special handiwork room, or as Fergus called it, her mind room.
"I'm not upset", Eleanore stated. "Queens don't get upset."
"Sure they don't. But if ya wouldn't have been queen, would ya've been upset then?"
The queen sighed and gave up on her work. It was a dazzling tapestry-in-making showing a perfect circle of stones on a forest background. Her fingers gently stroke it while she spoke. "It's that Night Fury, Fergus. I can't get it out of my head. How long has it been since we last spotted a Night Fury?"
The king hesitated to answer. "We never have, dear. Everyone - the Dragon Fighting Artillery, the people, I - we thought they'd gone extinct. All we've had of them is stories, legends, and even those seemed vague." He lifted his head, suddenly more serious than usual. "All but one. Ya remember the story of the Four Brothers?" A glance of his wife's made him realize. "Of course ya do. Sorry. However, this concerns one of the other three brothers' children. A lass and a lad. They're said to be the outcasts of line, since they did something... unspeakable."
Although noticing Fergus' anxiety, Eleanore had to ask. "What did they do?"
Fergus turned away. "They were just children, playing like everyone else. But they went to far into the forest, where no search party could find them. It's said they went insane. So out of their minds that when they came across a wounded dragon... they healed it." He paused again, perhaps to fight the fact that these were his long-distance family members. "They returned home riding on its back. Defending its right to live, saying it wasn't dangerous. Ya can guess what happened next."
Eleanore nodded, sadness in her eyes. "They were banned."
"Never to return." He let out a sigh. "A lass and a lad."
"We never told that tale in mi old clan, but they live on border far east, where the dragon threat is less overwhelming. So forgive me for not understanding quite how the Night Fury matches with the story."
"We haven't spotted a Night Fury for generations." Fergus said. "Not since the children found one wounded in the forest."
A gasp made the candles next to the loom flicker and drip wax, thankfully not on the tapestry where Eleanore's hand rested. "To ride on a Night Fury's back! How on earth did they manage that, Fergus?"
"I don't think anyone but them knew how, dear." He lowered his head to kiss hers. "And no one ever will." He set direction out of the door, but while standing at the doorstep, he heard a silent sentence  continue.
"That wasn't all, Fergus."
"Alright." His red hair seemed to be burning in the candlelight as he seated himself next to her. "What else is on yer mind?"
Eleanore reached out to one of the piles and grabbed something sheltered underneath. It was a piece of paper, very formal-looking. "I received this at breakfast."
"And what is it?"
"Ya should probably read it yerself." She handed him the letter without further explanation. As curious as he was worried, the king read the first sentence. He immediately looked up.
"From Stoik?"
She nodded. "Continue."
A couple of minutes later, a much more serious Fergus rose from his seat and stormed out of the mind room. His muttering echoed the halls all the way up to the kitchen - where his sons for the moment stole their share of the night's dinner - as he entered the guest quarters. "That lad has got some explaining to do."

Thanks for reading! I'm so sorry about the absolutely TOO long delay, but I think that I'm back on track now. Hopefully you'll be kind and vote and comment in the future as well, despite this. Thanks in advance // Fish-out-of-Water-5