31. The Mad Nadder

Night had fallen on Berk. The cold, harsh winds becoming even colder and harsher as the moon rose.

No raids tonight, a rare occurrence these days. But this peace didn’t serve to calm the people of Berk, it only made them more wary. Constantly looking out for any signs of the winged beasts.

But all people needed rest. And soon enough, every Viking headed to their huts to get some sleep.

If they even had a hut right now.

Astrid lied awake in her bed, eyes shut. Pretending to be in the midst of slumber.

She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. She had a mission.

Astrid slowly removed herself from her bed, careful to not alert her parents. Still draped in her day clothes.

She quickly gathered all the items she’d need for tonight’s excursion.

Axe? Check. Shield? Check. Smoked cod she’d smuggled away from dinner? Check. Unlit torch? Check. Hiccup’s sketchbook full of treasonous information? Check.

She placed the items in her bag, besides her axe. The weapon was snugly strapped to her back with care.

She cautiously opened her door, just a tad, and peered outside. She looked left, and right, then left again. Confident that the coast was clear, she exited her room.

Astrid tiptoed down the stairs, soundlessly uttering a string of curses every time the steps creaked. If she was caught, she was done for. Her parents could always tell when she was lying. She’d be made to admit the truth, and then probably tied to a mast and shipped off to sea.

Just as she arrived at her front door, she hesitated.

Was she really going to do this? Follow that traitor’s lead? Do the most un-Viking thing she could possibly imagine?

She gazed upon her village, her breath visible in the chilly air. Half of it was in ruins, one would think the island was abandoned.

Many children, injured or sick Vikings, and the elderly had to sleep in the Great Hall. As their homes were still in disrepair, and kept being destroyed due to the constant attacks. Able-bodied individuals would just have to tough it out, and sleep in the cold.

The population was starting to lose weight, thanks to the food shortage.

The chief was once again not being very helpful. He was over his aggressive phase, and for the past week he’s been in a major depressive slump. Barely leaving his home, and barely being cognizant when he did.

Couple this with Gobber, who was basically a hermit now, and the two men the village looked towards for guidance were virtually absent.

Spitelout had to step up and take charge.

With Snotlout as his second-in command.

All doubts dissipated from Astrid’s mind. Her grip tightened on her trusty axe, as she pushed her door open.

She had to do this.

She stepped into the bitter night, and quietly crept her way to the Training Ring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kill Ring had gone unused for months, after the former heir to Berk’s disastrous final test.

Yet, they still kept all the dragons there. And continued to feed them. The general consensus being, it might be handy to have them around.

Astrid always found this incredibly stupid. They weren’t in training anymore, and they needed all the food they could get! But she tried not to question her elders.

And now, Astrid was very glad they’d decided to keep these dragons. This was much easier than trying to catch a wild one on her own.

She stepped into the dark, empty ring. Retrieving her torch from her bag, she set it ablaze. And used it to light the other torches in the arena.

She’d like to actually see the dragon she was taming.

She cautiously glared at the doors surrounding her, fully aware of the monsters that awaited behind them.

Fully aware that she was about to release one, without the intention of killing it.

She already knew which dragon she wanted to go with.

The Gronckle was too stupid, the Zippleback was too complicated, and the Nightmare…

She didn’t have the right to do anything with the Nightmare. It was stolen from her.

That only left one option.

Well, the Terror was there too. But it obviously wouldn’t fit with her plans.

Meaning there was only one realistic option.

Before she moved to release the foul creature, she decided to take a peek at Hiccup’s notes. To see if he left any helpful tips on how to break a Dragon’s spirit and subjugate it, preferably as fast as possible.

She flipped through the book, passing pages of his stupid drawings, until she found what she needed. Hiccup’s first notes on his experience with the Night Fury.

“…Initially, the dragon seemed hostile. I soon realized that it was wary of my dagger, and it became more relaxed once I disposed of it. It appears that dragons require a display of trust if any interaction is to take place…”

 …

Yeah, this was stupid.

Astrid tossed the sketchbook aside as she considered the lunacy she’d just read.

Trusting a dragon? Getting rid of her weapon? No way.

She gripped her axe tightly as she made her way to the dragon’s door. She didn’t need Hiccup’s dumb advice, she’d tame this demon with sheer Viking willpower!

Her heart began to pump as she approached the lever, memories of squaring off against the reptiles igniting in her brain. It was only a few months ago, but it already feels like a lifetime has passed.

Her hand hesitated, hovering right above the lever. She hastily whispered to herself, reminding herself of her mission.

“It’s for my people, it’s for my people, it’s for my people…”

Swallowing her fears, and furrowing her brows, she pulled the lever.

The doors mechanisms creaked and whirred as they opened, to reveal-

Nothing.

Astrid stayed firmly planted where she stood, back against the wall adjacent to the now open cage. She stilled her breathing, and listened.

There wasn’t a single growl that could be heard. No flapping of wings, or scraping of claws. It was completely, utterly silent.

Astrid was confused. The dragon was in there, it had to be…

Clutching her axe even closer, she ever-so slowly leaned over to look into the door…

Just as the dragon burst out of its cage with a burst of magnesium flame.

Astrid jumped back with a yelp as the large, blue reptile stomped about the arena. It’s long spikey tail whipping around wildly.

It hadn’t noticed her yet, it was just running around aimlessly. Squawking and sniffing at its surroundings.

Astrid tried to regain her composure. She couldn’t show fear to this creature, she had to dominate it. She would train this dragon.

With a grimace, Astrid brandished her axe and marched forth. Demanding the Deadly Nadder’s attention.

“STOP!!!” She bellowed, and the dragon ceased it’s darting. It turned to face her, twisting its head back and forth so it could get a good look at her.

The Viking raised her axe in the air, and pointed it at the Nadder. “Listen up, dragon! I am your master now! And you will- “Her shouting had to be put on hold, as she scrambled to dodge a blast of flame.

“What are you-Stop that!” Her command was ignored, and the dragon fired at her again. She held up her shield to defend, and was knocked back by the force of the fire.

Another blast, and she dodged again. She jumped and rolled, growing increasingly frustrated at each flare. “LISTEN TO ME!” She screamed.

It did not.

Now at her boiling point, Astrid gripped her axe and charged. Waving it around as she released a battle cry.

Until the Nadder whipped its tail, launching a barrage of razor-sharp spines her way.

She skidded to a stop, and began to run in the other direction. She ducked onto the ground to avoid the projectiles, watching as they all pierced a wall.

She stood, slowly. A dark scowl on her features. She was panting as she faced the dragon once more, axe held firmly in her grip.

The Nadder faced her down as well, crouching low with its tail poised to strike.

Neither moved, they just stood there. Sizing each other up.

Barely five minutes in, and Astrid was already at the end of her rope.

The creature wouldn’t listen to a word she said, and it wouldn’t stop attacking either. How was she supposed to train it like this?

…An idea struck her, but she quickly waved it aside.

…Until it reappeared, and she began to consider it.

Yes, Hiccup’s braindead advice about discarding her weapon was basically suicide. But at this point she was willing to try anything.

And if she did die, she’d haunt the crap out of Hiccup.

With one last glance at her beloved axe, she took aim. Tears threatening to sprinkle from her eyes at the cruel act she was about to perform.

“Forgive me…my love…”

She lined up her shot, trying to ignore the creature becoming agitated at her movement, and tossed her axe out of the ring with pinpoint accuracy. It sailed through the air, and out of a hole in the ring’s chain-link covering.

She made a mental note to retrieve it as soon as she was done here.

The Nadder watched the axe as it cut through the air, and out of the arena. It then looked back to her, suspicion in its eyes…

And relaxed. Its spines pulled back in a resting position, and its stance much more casual.

Astrid was dumbfounded. She almost couldn’t believe that Hiccup was right about something. But then again, he was the guy riding a Night Fury. She supposed he knew his stuff on this topic in particular.

The Nadder eyed her, more curious now than anything else. And Astrid had to admit it didn’t look quite as horrible like this.

But then the dragon abruptly started charging, and Astrid immediately regretted letting her axe go. She ran out of the way with a scream, wishing she had some form of weapon with her…only to see it digging in her bag.

Her fear forgotten, she rushed over to it. “Hey, get out of there!” She scolded. She yanked her bag back from the lizard, and saw that it had her smoked cod in its beak. It scarfed the fish down greedily, finishing with a satisfied squawk.

Astrid’s sour mood only soured even more. “Okay, sure. Steal my dinner. Go ahead...” She grumbled to herself.

The dragon eyed her once more, shifting its head to ogle her displeased expression. Astrid watched in fear and confusion as it scrunched its eyes. It’s throat undulating, and producing weird noises.

Her confusion turned into disgust as it then regurgitated half of her fish on the ground in front of her. It stepped back a bit, and looked to her expectantly.

“Does it…want me to…”

The Viking girl suppressed a retch as she realized what she was being asked to do. This was the most nauseating thing she’d ever seen in her life…

…But if she ever wanted this thing to take her to the nest, she needed it to trust her…

She put on her best warrior face, and bent down to pick up the slimy, half-digested fish.

She eyed the disgusting seafood, frantically repeating her mantra in her mind.

“It’s for my people! It’s for my people! It’s for my people!”

With a heaving sigh, she took a bite. Chewed, and swallowed.

And vomited it back up.

And swallowed again.

She’d rather lose every one of her limbs twice, then do that again.

She was definitely chopping this thing’s head off when she was finished.

But the dragon seemed happy, releasing a pleased chirp as it stomped around excitedly. It didn’t seem to want her to eat anymore fish, thank Thor for that…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon the minutes passed into hours, late night morphing into early morning.

Astrid didn’t feel like she’d made any progress training the Nadder, but she did think it’d come to trust her. At the very least, it wouldn’t attack her on sight anymore.

Soon the sun would begin rising, and Astrid needed to be home by then. As she began to pack her things, but just as she reached for her shield the dragon grabbed it with its beak and ran off.

“Hey!” Astrid chased after the beast, running in circles as it trampled around the ring. “Stop messing around!” But her orders went unheard, and the chase continued.

When she thought she had a good shot at her shield, she braced herself and took a flying leap-

Only to crash to the ground, at the dragon’s feet.

The Nadder released a series of squawks, almost resembling laughter, and dropped the shield on top of Astrid.

With a groan, she stood. Shield in hand. “Alright, it’s time for you to go back inside.”

The dragon’s smug aura evaporated, and it now seemed almost…sad.

It bobbed its head frantically, while giving off dismayed chirps and trills. Astrid paid them no mind, and marched over to the creature’s door.

“In.” She commanded, pointing to the open door.

The dragon seemed hesitant, even backing up a few paces. With a sigh, Astrid spoke again. “I’ll be back tonight. Now get in there!”

The dragon listened.

It actually listened to what she told it to do.

A wave of joy washed over Astrid, as she watched the creature trudge back into its cage. She’d done it! She’d gotten a dragon to obey her, at least a little!

She couldn’t stop here, she had to keep going until she was on that thing’s back and on her way to the nest.

She now had proof. Evidence that her plan would work.

The Nadder eyed her as its door shut closed, and Astrid eyed it right back until she couldn’t see it anymore.

Triumphant, she made to exit the ring. Ready to enjoy some rest after a stressful, but successful night.

Until she had to get up in an hour.

After scrambling to retrieve her beloved axe, which she now realized she’d have to leave home during these dragon training nights, she made her way back home.

What she didn’t see, was the Deadly Nadder growing increasingly distressed in its cage.

It could hear her. It could hear her call.

There would be a raid tonight. A big one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The queen was quite displeased. In fact, she was furious.

The dragons of the nest tried their best to appease her, but it was never enough.

Ever since her mightiest warrior, the Night Fury, abruptly disappeared months ago, she’s been pushing her subjects even harder.

More raids, more food…

And harsher punishments should they fail.

She had expanded the range of her call to outside their small area, bringing in new dragons to quell her hunger. Some were of more exotic breeds, such as a Changewing, and a Skrill.

But no matter how much they fed her, she only seemed to get more ravenous.

The dragons of the nest were withering away. They could barely feed themselves anymore, and they were dying at a startling rate. Either from Vikings, or the queen herself.

There were many types of dragons in the nest, all different in features, abilities, and even personality.

But they all shared one wish.

Free us…