I climbed to the highest point of the tree possible, until the thin branches could just barely carry my weight. There, I perched and stared intensely straight ahead. I could just see the village and the docks below, thankfully. So much anxiety was already roaring through me, I probably would have lost my mind if I had to hide without being able to see anything.
Ripjaw suddenly appeared in the tree next to me. He glanced over, and the two of us made eye contact. We stared, but we didn't speak.
It felt like hours that we sat there, and my limbs began to get stiff and achy. I didn't move an inch though. The cold talons of fear clenching my stomach tightened with every passing minute.
Then, finally, a silhouette appeared through the sheer wall of snow. I clenched my fist around the tree branch and released a long pent up sigh. From where I sat, I could see half a dozen ships stop at the dock, and Stoick approached, chest pushed out, chin raised, hands on his hips, with Gobber at his side.
A figure stepped off the ship. I leaned back and narrowed my eyes at the bulky shape of my father, with his grey beard a tangled mess and his clothes ratty and old. Stoick met him before he could even make it off the dock.
I clenched my teeth in the suspense, watching the vikings converse. As they spoke, Skarde began to seem more and more agitated, running his fingers over his scalp, pulling at his beard... then, finally, he turned back to his ship.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and allowed my eyes to fall shut.
There was a roar.
My eyes shot back open to see Skarde perched on the front of his ship. His vikings were pouring over the edges, into the water, onto the docks... Stoick and Gobber disappeared beneath the wave as the Gorum Tribe overflowed onto the island.
Screaming began to erupt from below, and then the action moved behind the treeline where I couldn't see.
"We have to get down there!" I exclaimed. I shot to my feet a bit too quickly and wiped out. I tumbled off the branch with a scream, crashing through sticks and leaves until Ripjaw swooped down and grabbed me. We landed safely.
As soon as my feet hit the dirt, I was running, but something wound like a whip around my ankle and yanked me backwards. I found myself dangling upside down by Ripjaw's tail, inches from his nose.
"Stop it Ripjaw!" I growled, thrashing in his grip. "We have to go now!"
"Runa," Ripjaw said, voice low and serious. "You do realize Skarde is down there? And if he finds you, you know what he will do to you, right?"
My desperate struggle ceased. I met his eyes and forced my voice not to shake, "I know exactly what he'll do."
Ripjaw's eyes widened, and realization dawned over his face.
I took a deep breath. In the most stern voice I could manage, I said, "Let... me... go."
Ripjaw's tail tightened. "No."
I thrust my foot around and cracked Ripjaw on the injured side of his jaw. He yelped. His tail released, and I dropped to the ground.
I bit my tongue. I didn't want it to come to this, but I suspected it would. I was prepared.
He lashed at me, but I rolled to the side and yanked a pair of bolas from my bag. First I chucked one at his wings, then his legs. In seconds, he was at my feet, ensnared in rope and weighed down by heavy stones.
I staggered to my feet, panting. Seeing him lying there helplessly twisted my heart with guilt, but I suffocated the feeling. I leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of his head. "They'll take care of you here on Berk," I murmured, fighting the temor in my voice. "Stoick will make sure of it..." Slowly, I began to back away. Every step was agony. "Thank you for everything, Ripjaw."
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Cursed One- How to Train Your Dragon Fanfiction
FanfictionRuna is from a long line of Vikings cursed with a blessing- the ability to speak to dragons. Since childhood, she has been abandoned by tribe after tribe, all the while just barely escaping her father's desperate wrath. That has been her life... unt...