Nightmare

So far, so good.

It had turned to night earlier than you expected and your pack of dragons had grown even more agitated when darkness covered the land. You could see a few feet infront of you, the moon could only provide so much light and dark clouds would sometimes block it's light.

That caused you to come up with an idea, you were currently seated on DeathStrike's back and at the moment he was very content with his human being so comfortable. Of course GoreWing was whining up a storm until the largest deathgripper silenced him with a threatening click of his stinger.

GraveTail was too busy guarding you and his packmates from any potential danger to be jealous right now, his bright yellow eyes scanning and assessing any movement or noise.

It was getting tense as you got closer to where you had seen smoke coming from and it was clear the dragons were getting ready for a fight. You slipped off DeathStrike's back before raising your hand and silently requesting they stayed back for the moment, you noticed the pack split and hide.

"Good boys," you whispered, knowing they heard you and knowing they loved praise.

You looked back at the campfire, you were right, there was someone else on the island and now you were right by their little camp. This was not your best idea, but you decided to investigate as you saw no movement or life.

Glancing back at DeathStrike, who had scaled up one of the trees and was hidden amongst the branches of leaves, you shook your head and he reluctantly remained still. You didn't need to reveal all your cards yet, especially if there was actually someone wandering around.

What if it wasn't just one person? What if it was a group of hunters and they hurt your friends?

You wouldn't risk it and so you signaled the pack to stay back, your hand found purchase on your dagger and you crept forward. It was the only weapon you had and you felt better knowing it was within your grasp, you quietly stalked towards the fire and looked around at all the swords. Most were stabbed into the ground which you found odd, this wasn't some random viking or hunter.

Who in their right mind would disarm themselves so much on an island full of dragons?

"What in Thor's name...?" You found yourself whispering outloud, spinning around when you heard a twig snap behind you and readied your weapon.

"Woah!" A young boy yelped, holding his hands up in surrender with his shield still strapped to his arm. "I-I...sorry? I didn't realize anyone else was on the island, didn't mean to intrude on your campsite."

"'My campsite'?" You repeated, shaking your head. "I thought this was your campsite."

"Oh..." The boy lowered his hands, looking just as confused as you and started to fidget with his shield. "It's not mine, I'm just...exploring?"

You lowered your dagger, not feeling as defensive as you were, you glanced over his appearance and took note of his metal leg. He was a thin boy with shaggy brown hair and green eyes, a toothy and awkward smile on his face. He didn't look like the brutish dragon killer type, but that didn't mean you were gonna drop your guard completely.

This world was full of different characters and you never really knew which ones were good or bad.

"Right," you responded, not believing his words and he knew. "I'm just passing through, see ya, I guess."

But just as you started to walk passed the campfire, the boy was tackled by something and you got ready for a fight, holding your dagger and prepared to strike whatever you deemed a threat.

"D-Dagur?!"

And with that single word, you felt your hope come crashing down and noticed your hand become shaky as shock overtook your face. You quickly signaled your packmates to stay back.

You did not want them getting anywhere near this older boy and watched as he effortlessly picked the smaller boy up to place him on his feet. He still looked as you remembered, but taller and more built with his hair now long enough to be tied back.

"Hiccup! Old friend, you're alive!!" Dagur's voice hadn't changed too much either and now you atleast had the younger boy's name — Hiccup.

"Uhh, last time I checked. So, uh, haven't seen you since that—"

"Since you saved me from that dragon attack back on Berk. You fought off a Nightfury!" Dagur exclaimed, you raised your brows in shock at the mention of such an elusive and though to be extinct dragon. "I mean you were like—"

During the conversation you had been so silent that the young beserker hadn't noticed you, but as he turned to do something his eyes locked with yours. You now felt that heavy dread flood your mind as he dropped his sword and you didn't even notice how curiously Hiccup was watching this exchange.

"BELOVED!!!"

You were tackled, not to the ground, but now you were being held in his arms and his muffled, excited rambling was not registering for you. Everything was muffled as you were trapped in the arms you had tried to escape all those months ago, and yet you felt your body relax with the warmth.

"I can't believe I found you!! I've been searching island after island when I heard that your tribe thought you had gotten stranded out at sea. But I knew you were okay! Even when they believed you had died," he rambled, squeezing you once more before he pulled back and just held your waist.

"Dagur..." you finally managed to find your voice, the initial shock and panic wearing off, you still felt pinned to your spot by his eyes though.

Wild and vibrant green met cautious [e/c], his words had only started making sense in your mind once you managed to calm your racing heart and his previous words hit you. It felt like a gronkle had just landed on you from a 10ft drop.

".....they believed you had died..."

Wait...your family thought you had...died?

"They think I'm dead?" You blurted out, quiet and hesitant, but loud enough for Dagur to hear over his own voice.

You knew they would say you were missing and eventually announce your presumed death, but for it to be so soon and to hear it with your own ears...it felt so much worse. This feeling of pain seemed to blossom in your chest and spread all through your body, it was throbbing and suffocating.

"My love?"

You snapped out of your darker thoughts and refocused on the situation, Hiccup hadn't run away (yet) and he had awkwardly shuffled over to the logs, taking a seat and fiddling with his shield again. His eyes nervously darting around and actively avoiding your little 'moment' with Dagur.

"I'm fine," you answered before he could ask, managing to force a small, fake smile. "Can we sit down, please?"

.

.

.

This has certainly been some of the most awkward and tense moments of your life, every now and again you'd signal the pack to back off. You could feel three sharp gazes on you and the two boys, you even heard the faintest and most softest click of one of their stingers opening.

After sitting down on one of the logs, you had nearly jumped out of your skin when Dagur yanked you closer to him with an arm around your shoulders as he spoke with Hiccup.

You had been listening intently when the nightfury was mentioned, it was a dragon most feared and yet it was one of the most elusive beasts. Perhaps the lack of knowledge on them gave them that terrifying edge or maybe it was the sharp accuracy of the nightfury's blast that really struck fear into vikings?

It remains an unanswered question to you, but being around three dangerous dragons yourself had made these other dragons feel less scary.

DeathStrike was certainly one of the most vicious and intelligent dragons you had ever stumbled upon, he was scarily agile too and you had seen him flip a monstrous nightmare over with his tusks. The same tusks that he would retract whenever he nuzzled against you.

GraveTail was the more observant dragon, you had grown acutely aware of whenever there were eyes on you thanks to this dragon. He was also quite stealthy and had snuck up on even the most alert dragon species such as terrible terrors and nadders.

GoreWing had taught you how to dodge really well, you had always been someone who relied more on their agility and reflexes than brute strength, but the smaller deathgripper had certainly improved that. You'd often have to duck to avoid being tackled and even then Gore would find a way.

You had just glanced up from the fire when a distant and yet loud roar pierced the air causing Dagur to immediately leapt to his feet, grab his crossbow and stand even closer to you.

Then there was silence, your eyes were darting around the sky while Dagur was aiming his crossbow around and Hiccup held his shield. However, there was just more silence and you eventually sighed, looking back at the campfire.

You couldn't stay focused on the conversation happening around you, the feeling of three pairs of eyes observing you and everything happening around you was certainly a worrisome distraction. If DeathStrike grew impatient and decided enough was enough...you had very little confidence in yourself to stop him.

You needed to sneak away and get off this island.

But that small hope was crushed when Dagur decided the three of you should hunt this night fury and dragged you with him, his arm around your waist and his other hand rested his crossbow on his shoulder.

It was midday, the sun was slowly dipping further down in the sky but it wouldn't be dark for another few hours, the growls and rumbles made by the beast that carried you was comforting. You still weren't quite used to being so high up in the air, the other two of your companions were following and sometimes bumping into the other which caused a series of snaps and roars.

The smallest Deathgripper, Gorewing, would often glide beside his larger brother and nuzzle against your hand whenever he sensed your fear. Gravetail was much more reluctant to show any concern for their new human packmate, often giving low growls when he heard you take a sharp breath every time DeathStrike would glide higher or dive down lower.

It was all quite peaceful, despite the dragons that could literally rip you limb from limb, but you knew they wouldn't.

This peace however was quickly unsettled when you landed on an island, Dragon Island. It was getting late and you wanted to find shelter before dark, you could feel the stares of your companions and sighed. GoreWing was quick to saunter up next to you and purred deeply as you rested a hand on his head crest.

DeathStrike gave a low growl as he stalked up to your other side and nudged you gently, giving a narrowed glare at the youngest dragon when you placed your other hand on his head crest. He too purred, but much deeper and rougher than GoreWing.

GraveTail gave a snort with a shake of his body and walked passed you all, but you didn't miss the dragon's warning snarl to his brothers. He could try and hide it or pretend he didn't, but you could see he cared about you comfort and safety.

These dragons cared about you more than any viking ever did, your own family had given you up to protect themselves instead of trying to find another solution. They had very quickly given in to Oswald's demand and signed your life away on a treaty with dragon blood. The memory made you frown and glare at the ground, your sudden anger caused your dragon friends to pause and look at you.

It was only when DeathStrike growled worriedly did you relax your expression and shake off the past.

"Sorry guys," you murmured an apology, GraveTail snorted again in exhaustion before stalking towards you and pressing his head crest against your forehead quickly.

It was a comforting gesture that wasn't often given to you by the deathgripper, but you appreciated it whenever he did. You smiled at the feeling of rough scales against your skin and you felt your body relax, GraveTail pulled away and took the lead of finding shelter.

GoreWing whined as he was now at the back of the pack, you were kept in the middle as always and you had a deathgripper on either side of you, aswell as behind you. It was like a protective barrier formed around you and you felt safe, even though you knew what these three could do.

A growl from GraveTail caught your attention and you looked to see smoke, not from a forest fire or dragon, but most likely from a campfire. You found that rather odd as not many vikings were keen to set up camps on Dragon Island, considering the large amount of flying beasts that called it home.

"Okay, we're not going that way. Oh you're kidding me," you groaned, you would have to pass by that camp if you wanted to reach one of the caves you remembered on this island.

There were other caves, but that one had some of your supplies stored in it and you couldn't exactly go the night without them. You hadn't eaten all day and hunger was tempting you, you could almost smell the food you left in that cave from here. It should be okay if you snuck around whoever else was on the island, hopefully.

"DeathStrike, GoreWing, GraveTail," you called, getting a reaction immediately as the pack of deathgrippers now sat infront of you. "Um- I think we should sneak passed whoever that is, flying would catch their attention and besides we've been flying the entire day. I'm sure your wings need a rest, but that means you guys can't just kill whoever it is."

DeathStrike growled, GraveTail snorted and GoreWing whined.

They were like three toddlers who couldn't get their way, but with the nervous frown on your face they relented and gave low agreeing chuffs. You smiled and gave each dragon a quick pat, even GraveTail let you give him a quick pat on the head.