Forty-Eight: The biggest dragon

Drago's flagship was closing as the seastacks of Dragon island came into sight-and the crew of the Night Fury gaped as they saw the shattered columns of rock, battered aside by the brute force of the giant vessel chasing them. They had seen them before, swathed in mist but on a clear day, the sight was even more shocking...especially as they were being chased by the monster vessel that had destroyed them.

"Stay alert!" Hiccup ordered them, his cold gaze sweeping over the crew, seeing uncertain faces. "Keep the sails full and don't go too close to the shore. Set course for Freya's Cove. Fish, a word..." He took the husky First mate's arm and led him to one side. Fishlegs immediately looked guilty: it was a reflex.

"Um...what's wrong?" he squeaked, recognising the destination. "I know I didn't miss anything..."

"Fishlegs...why did the dragon come?" Hiccup asked directly. Blue eyes popped wide and his big anxious face worked.

"It wasn't me!" he squeaked. "I swear I didn't do anything..." Sighing, Hiccup rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily.

"What did the twins do?" he sighed.

"Um...fought?" Fishlegs squeaked, looking embarrassed.

"Astrid told me to speak to you, Fish," Hiccup said with forced patience. "She must have seen something and she mentioned the twins specifically. I wasn't there. But something made the dragon crash through the cave and come out onto the beach..." Twisting his fingers, the larger man thought back to the time in the cave, filtering out the memory of Mildew and Mathilda interfering and trying just to focus on the antics of the twins...

"No one's been here for years!"

"Yeah,there's nothing here...Just this staff and some scrolls..."

"Hey-I saw that first! It's mine!"

"Just once, it would be nice if they behaved like adults..." he had thought to himself as the twins tumbled over the floor, wrestling for the staff.

The rattling, jingling sound echoed through the chamber eerily.

It was answered by a shattering roar.

"There was a staff...Tuff has it, I think..." Fishlegs admitted quietly. "The twins were fighting over it and it made this...jingling noise...the dragon attacked after that..."

"Jingling?" Hiccup groaned, face-palming. He sighed again. "Look-make sure the Typhoomerang is ready and on deck. I'm going to beach or sink Drago if it's the last thing I do!"

"You use that thing, it may be the last thing we all do!" Fishlegs told him shortly but Hiccup gave a small, knowing smile.

"Not this time," he told his friend. "This time, I know what it does...and my wife and child need me." He turned. "Be ready...and if you hear yelling, it will be me kicking Tuff's ass!"

oOo

They reached the cove late in the afternoon, the watery amber light of the setting sun gilding the ruptured mountain, and swung the Night Fury round to face the oncoming flagship. Hiccup had a sword on each hip and the staff in his right hand. Tuff was casting him resentful looks and muttering 'Tyrant!' every time he met his Captain's eye.

"Battle stations!" Hiccup commanded, running his fingers through his messy auburn hair. "Tuff, Ruff-get the Thunderdrum ready. I want you to do as much damage as you can!"

"Yessir!"

"Tyrant!"

"I am not a tyrant!"

"Of course not...tyrant!'

"Oh, for the love of..." Hiccup face-palmed again and turned to his First Mate. "Is the Typhoomerang ready, Fish?"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Twins-FIRE!" the Captain shouted and the Thunderdrum roared, the first shot clanging off the heavily armoured prow and forward hull. Frowning, Tuff doubled the powder and fired again, punching the shot through the armour and slamming into the hull...but not doing much damage. The male twin lifted his head and stared at the cannon.

"Have you sabotaged this, Captain Tyrant?" he asked pointedly.

"I. AM. NOT. A. TYRANT!" Hiccup growled. "But that thing is too heavily armoured...I worried the Thunderdrum wouldn't be able to crack her head on like it could the dreadnoughts...so we need to run her aground...and then try something that can definitely smash a mountain!" He sighed. "Lower a boat, Sven. As soon as we trap them, I'm going ashore!" There was a pause and the crew all stared at him in shock and dismay: between them, they all knew he had endured some horribly bad treatment and the chances of him being fast were almost non-existent: everyone who had run from the dragon previously knew you needed speed. Tuff rose to his feet and stared carefully at his Captain.

"You're not fast enough," he said seriously. "I'll go."

"No-me!" Ruff interjected. "Look-we've spent a lot of energy rescuing you, Captain so we don't wanna have to watch you get eaten by a dragon!"

"Or trodden on by one," Tuff added. "Dude-you'll get squished and I'd hate to have to explain to little T why I let you go..."

"Or me?" Roar added, stepping forward. "Look, Captain-there isn't a man here who wouldn't go in your stead..." Hiccup glanced round the pirates facing him and suddenly his throat was thick with emotion.

"I...I have to go," he said quietly. "He's after me. And I don't want anyone else killed if this insane plan goes wrong..."

"It's an insane plan?" Ruff piped up, looking more cheerful. "Then it's bound to work!"

"Yeah...if it's a really insane plan then the others don't stand a chance! Job done!" Tuff finished with satisfaction.

"Except we haven't done the plan yet!" Hiccup sighed. "Go on-shoot him again! And Fish...it's time..." The First Mate whimpered but had Sven and Mulch help him lower the Typhoomerang into the water on the land side of the ship as they gently turned to face Drago.

"DRAGO! I'm still here!" Hiccup bellowed up at the huge flagship. "And you STILL haven't got me!"

The whump and thud of the flagship's cannons was answer enough and everyone ducked as the shot whisked low over the Night Fury, holing one of the sails. The Captain scowled. "Mind my ship," he growled, his green eyes flicking over the dancing waters of the rapidly shrinking space between the two protagonists. Ever since that first day behind the wheel on the Thor's Hammer, he had discovered an uncanny talent for navigation, for reading the ripple and colour and ebb of waters and instinctively knowing the currents and topography below. And he knew, as he looked, that there was a brief, shallow slope sliding away from the waterline that rapidly deepened by a very steep drop-off...providing a deep column of water for the weapon.

"FIRE THE TYPHOOMERANG! All five charges, Fish!" he shouted, bracing himself as the husky First Mate screwed up his big face, whispered a hasty prayer and pulled the lever. The ship shuddered. Roar's knuckles whitened on the wheel as the Flagship closed on them and another shudder of the Typhoomerang sounded. The twins shot another round of the Thunderdrum, smashing through the nearest gun port on the Flagship. There were cries of shock and the twins chuckled wickedly, bashing heads again. The shudder of the third charge shook the ship as the vortex began to form and deepen, the tug of the current starting to deviate the wheel.

"Captain..." Roar warned but Hiccup was already gesturing at the rest of the pirates.

"Full sail!" he shouted. "Time to go!"

"Now he wants to go..." Mulch mumbled, motioning Rune and Vidar to help him drag the sails up. Eirik and Nils were already scrambling up the rigging with Bucket, who was determined to help, despite the huge bandage on his head. The ship was leaning as the fourth shudder ran through the ship, deepening the vortex. The sails flapped and the ship pulled away, banking to starboard as the Flagship headed directly for them...and the prow dived down into the deep vortex as the final charge shuddered through the ship and the flagship began to tilt.

"Hang on!" Sven shouted as the final sail flapped open and the Night Fury extended their advantage, sailing away from the pull of the vortex and watching the Flagship helpless. A cannon shot whipped out to sea, the aim spoiled by the sudden lurch of the ship, the hull grinding against the rocks with an ear-splitting crash. Impaled on the shore, leaning at forty-five degrees and taking on water, Drago looked up at the pirate ship across the vortex that was tearing at his ship and roared in anger. Green eyes focussed on the dark shape, Hiccup turned and scrambled over the rail to lower himself into the boat. Sven and Mulch peered over the side.

"You sure we can't go in your place?" the short man asked and Hiccup gave his lopsided smile.

"Tell my wife I love her...and that this is for her and Arild," he said quietly, grabbing the oars and seeing Fishlegs lean over the rail by the others. "Keep shooting...and if anything happens...get the Hel outta here! That's an order, Fish!" Without waiting for an answer, he pushed away, rowing fiercely in the lea of the ship towards the shore, only visible to Drago's furious eyes as he emerged in the breakers. Face tight with pain as he rowed, he stared only at the black-sailed ship...his ship. It had been the only thing he had to his name for so long...and now, he was risking her, risking everything to stop an evil force that his heart and soul told him was a threat to all decent people in the Archipelago and beyond.

He flinched as the boat hit the beach and he levered himself out into the surf, splashing up the shore and ducking as musket fire zinged around him. He could see men being lowered from the stricken flagship onto the shore and heading in his direction...and the black shape of the Lord of the North, standing grim and menacing on his wrecked ship. With a grimace, he grabbed the staff and began to jog towards the slope...and the huge defect in the mountain.

The sand was sticky and his feet sunk awkwardly in the sodden sand. As soon as the black volcanic sand grew drier, it became even harder to scramble over and he slipped, a knee digging into the ground before he used the staff to lever himself achingly up. Grimacing at the effort, he forced himself to trot forward, springing across the uncertain surface...and then he hit the long scree slope that was even harder to scramble over, throwing his balance off and making him fight as each footstep slithered away from its intended position. Crunching of scree loud in his ears, he was forced to fling his arms sideways just to stay upright and his entire body hurt with the effort. Breathing hard, his face beaded with sweat, he glanced back and saw the Night Fury maintaining position against the roiling vortex with the regular puffs of grey smoke as the twins continued pounding the ship, making inroads...but not quickly enough.

He could hear the shouts behind him and he hauled his exhausted shape to the top of the slope, facing the silent black maw of the mountain, the faint scents of damp and sulphur reaching his nose. He took a few breaths and stared into the darkness, the staff gripped hard in his hand.

"You know...Thor, Odin, Gods in general...I think we can all agree my life has been pretty shitty the last five years or so...and not that much better for about ten before that, to be honest," he said, regaining his breath and lifting his chin. "I would like to think that the horrendous time I have endured-no pun intended-was decreed for a reason. And I really hope it was for this moment, where I am about to do something so spectacularly stupid and insane that I am sure you would all approve. And I really really hope that this insanity will be rewarded by you ensuring my plan actually works and Drago is finally and utterly defeated. And...and if you insist I have to die in the process, I am just asking...just in the hope that you may be merciful...that my wife, Astrid, and my son, Arild, will live. Please, Gods...if you need someone to die...take me instead and let them live..." He swallowed. "I'm ready," he added, walking towards the huge hole in the mountain.

He shook the staff, the jingling echoing through the blind darkness.

"Hey there, ugly...I betcha can't scare off the dragon I'm fighting!" he shouted, shaking the staff for all he was worth.

Was that a slithering sound, the faint creak of muscles the size of houses? Could he hear the faint ping of tiny stones being shifted as a mountain-sized body moved? Was that the huff of enormous lungs, the smell of sulphur suddenly overwhelming?

He shook the staff again.

"I SAID...Drago will eat you for breakfast!" he yelled and was answered by a roar. He shook the staff again...then turned and stared down the slope-to a group of eight of Drago's men, closing on him. "And...great..." he muttered as he heard rock creak and begin to split behind him. His left hand snatched his sword and he swung the staff in his right hand as he took a final breath, flicking his emerald gaze up to Valhalla with a disappointed expression. "Okay...so I guess we know how you want this..." Hiccup murmured and accelerated down the scree slope.

Drago's guards were toiling up the same slope, their gaze fixed on the skinny, lanky shape above them, the breeze ruffling the messy auburn hair-but they were still shocked as the pirate turned and charged them, his sword and staff raised and screaming like a banshee. The soldiers further up the slope raised their weapons as those behind them backed up a step...but as Hiccup sprinted to within a few paces, a huge grey armoured head with a scattering of red spines across the creature's jaw and shoulders, three eyes on each side of the grey head and a bony, ragged frill at the back of its skull burst from the rock. Another roar sounded, shaking the mountain and a slew of scree began to slide down the mountain far faster than any of the men could run. The avalanche hit Hiccup first, sweeping the legs from under him and bearing his lanky shape to the ground, skidding and bouncing down as he hit the soldiers-and they went down as well.

Behind them, there was the crunching and smashing as the huge dragon erupted through the hole it had punched through the mountain previously, a hundred feet to the shoulder and roaring deafeningly. The thuds of the twins' cannon, pounding away at the flagship, were drowned and they stopped and stared at the huge monster, roaring as it proclaimed its dominance. Then it noted a large challenger-the grounded flagship-on the shore and gave an almighty roar, head snapping round and making its challenge. Drago stared in utter shock-as his gunners reacted on instinct, swinging round and firing every cannon they had against the impossible creature.

Rolling and slamming hard into the lowest part of the slope, Hiccup just felt pain on every part of his body. He had been slammed and battered with every impact as he bounced down the slope, his face scraped and hands scratched and bleeding. Somehow, he had managed to keep hold of the sword and the staff and he raised his spinning head, bleary eyes seeing the soldiers-who were strewn around him-mirroring his actions in slowly recovering. But around them, the ground was shaking and the dragon was stomping down the slope. Rolling and using the staff to lever himself up to his knees, he glanced up at the monster, then scrambled up.

His left leg collapsed, red spots flashing before his eyes as he tried to put weight on the ankle. Slamming to his hands and knees, his felt nausea wash over him and almost threw up, blinking hard and breathing slowly to try to stay conscious. Stabbing the staff into the sand, he hauled himself up, facing the soldiers and lifting his sword.

"You want me? Come and get me..." he rasped, his face white with pain. The first soldier screamed and ran for him and Hiccup deliberately planted his broken leg in the scree and slammed his sword hard into the man. The second came in from his right, finding the staff crashing across his head with a loud jingle and the sword following up. Two more men closed on him and he parried and thrust, hampered by his broken leg and his urgency to get away from the dragon. A blow tagged his side and he cried out, swiping the sword aside and impaling the man, then dealing with his colleague with a vicious backswing. And then the dragon roared...almost overhead. His head snapped round and he stared at the monster above them...and began to limp away, praying he could avoid the tree-trunk legs that shook the ground.

On board the flagship, Drago was staring in utter shock. Not bad enough that Fury had escaped him with one lightning-wielding dragon but now he had brought down a monster the size of a mountain on the Lord of the North. His crew were pouring every cannon they could at the monster and it was roaring and advancing, its eyes locked on the beached ship. And the cannon shots were just bouncing off the monster. There seemed to be a whirlpool that had formed and had slammed Drago's Flagship-the Bewilderbeast-onto the coastal rocks, The hull had been compromised and they were slowly taking on water...but now they had a much bigger problem.

"DESTROY IT!" Drago roared, urging every last weapon to attack the armoured giant. "KILL IT!"

oOo

"Oh dear," Fishlegs commented, lowering his spyglass and motioning the twins to cease fire. "I think he's made it mad."

"And that's a bad thing?" Tuff asked in a slightly confused voice. "Just to clarify? I mean-why wouldn't it be?" Every other member of the crew gave him a disbelieving look.

"That thing's a hundred feet tall and has crashed through an entire mountain?" Sven suggested.

"It's big, ugly and mean?" Roar added.

"It could stomp on you and not even notice?" Ruff pointed out hopefully.

"Or...it could just cremate you..." Fishlegs told them sternly. As a self-confessed dragon geek-especially since they had actually started finding dragons-he had been doing his homework and had found the monster from the mountain...and he really hadn't been reassured by what he had found.

"Huh?" Tuff had adopted the stupidest expression Fishlegs had ever seen.

"It's a dragon," Fishlegs tried to explain as patiently as he could.

"Huh?"

"It breathes fire," he continued.

"Ah..."

"Yeah...so big dragon, big fire?" Ruff hazarded, her face still looking really hopeful. Fishlegs nodded wearily.

"Yes, Ruff...very big fire..."

oOo

He could feel the tug of the wind, the inhalation of a monster that dwarfed the town of Berk in preparation to fire. Hiccup-as the pirate, Captain Fury-was a man who always prepared well and he had found out what there was about the dragon...from his First Mate and his son. What he had heard had given him hope...provided he was in the right place at the right time...and unfortunately, being on the beach at the moment was precisely the wrong place to be if he didn't want to go home as a small pile of ashes.

So he used the staff and his sword as props to try to escape the carnage and while the remaining soldiers ran back towards their ship for safety, preferring the armoured refuge Drago's war machine, Hiccup limped to the water's edge, his vision coming in and out and breath almost impossible through the pain as he walked on his shattered leg. Finally, he reached the waves and collapsed, landing on his hands and knees in the surf. With a sigh, he flung the staff into the sea and watched it sink, then crawled into the water, dragging and pulling himself into the sea and starting to swim. The water was cold, the salt got in his eyes and he was weary and battered...but he thrashed away from the shore. He was starting to make headway...until he saw the monster open its maw...and he snatched a huge breath and urgently ducked under the surface.

The entire beach was swathed with fire as the creature sprayed an enormous river of flame over the sands. Staring up through the surface, the light suddenly became the fierce orange-gold light of flames and Hiccup ducked lower, clamping his jaws shut and praying the flames would recede before he ran out of air. The dragon didn't relent, pouring everything it had on the flagship that had been attacking the beast and invading her home. And despite the armour and the devastating attacks by the cannons, the flames melted the ship. The armour glowed scarlet and softened and the wooden fixtures-and all the crew, from Captain to the dumbest cabin boy, were incinerated. Drago opened his mouth to roar his defiance and rage...and then the flames hit and consumed him. The remains of his flagship came a vision of Hel, all roaring flames and collapsing timbers before a second blast smashed the ship apart.

And then there was silence on the shore, the scorched beach fused to glass and the ship annihilated. Satisfied, the dragon turned away, not seeing the sodden auburn head pop up through the surface, desperately sucking in a huge mouthful of air and trying to swim in the direction of the Night Fury. But the current was pulling him sideways...and as he looked, he found himself beginning to slowly orbit the massive vortex that remained in the deep water just of the island shelf...

He was caught by the Typhoomerang.

Waving and thrashing with all his might-though hampered by his broken leg-Hiccup felt himself speed up as the current really caught him and he was suddenly fighting to keep his head above water. Desperate, he tried to thrash his way free, but the current was far too strong and he felt the inexorable tug, pulling him down. His green gaze slid over the ship one last time as he was pulled under...

oOo

"We've got to do something!" Sven protested and Roar and Mulch were adding their voices, but for once, Fishlegs was firm.

"If we move any closer to the vortex, we'll lose the entire ship!" he told them urgently, though he was sweating profusely with the strain.

"He's going under!" Tuff shouted. "FIsh-DO SOMETHING!"

"I-I can't..." the First Mate revealed, his face stricken. "I promised him that I would protect Astrid and Arild...and sinking the ship won't do that!"

"He's gonna DIE!" Ruff shouted, grabbing a rope and tossing the end towards Hiccup. The end was well short of his waving hand. The others joined in tossing lines fruitlessly at the desperate shape but for once, Tuff ducked away and burst into the cabin, staring at the small boy curled on the bed against the unconscious shape of Astrid. Arild's big green eyes looked up at the male twin and Tuff beckoned urgently at the boy. Confused but trusting him, the boy scrambled up and walked towards the twin-who grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the deck.

"T-we need your help," he said quietly. "Your Dad needs your help..." Arild gazed in the direction he indicated and gasped.

"DAD!" he shouted, running to the rail. Big green eyes filled with tears. "Why aren't you helping him? Please- HELP HIM!"

"We can't get to him without sinking the Night Fury!" Fishlegs explained in a pained voice. Arild shook his head.

"But Dad..." Arild whimpered, staring desperately around the solemn faces.

"Little T-you have a friend who could help..." Tuff pointed out, gesturing to the Skrill and the little boy blinked, then scrambled up to the poop deck, laying his hands on the dragon's face.

"Stormy...I need your help!" he said breathlessly. Raising his head, the dragon's yellow eyes focussed on the boy...and then his head snapped up, the pupils shrinking to narrow slits. There was a voice in the dragon's mind, a cold, callous command that demanded the dragon obey. Stormy the Skrill felt the command, the cruel dominance of the Queen, insisting he tender his service to feed and protect her. Almost overwhelmed, he rose to his feet, staring in the direction of the grey monstrosity that had paused halfway back up the slope and swung her heavy, armoured head round to stare in the direction of the grey and purple dragon.

"Stormy!" Arild scampered forward, his small hands reaching for the dragon's muzzle. His soft skin rested against the scales and the dragon paused, halfway through the act of unfurling his wings.

The Queen was cold and cruel, commanding her slaves to serve her without hesitation or any regard for their own safety. She saw him only as a tool...but the boy had freed him from the prison, had offered friendship and love. His friends provided lots of fish and somewhere to stay...

...and so, though Skrills were belligerent and hard to train, Stormy wanted to have someone because he knew he was alone in a world without dragons. There was no sense of any others...except this archaic monster, demanding the last Skrill became nothing more than a slave to a hungry demon. All she offered was servitude until he was killed in her service...so Stormy fought the Queen with all his stubborn will, promising his loyalty to the green-eyed boy who was murmuring gentle pleas rather than the spiny monster that roared her displeasure...

Arild saw the pupils widen and the Skrill lowered his head, giving a little purr of reassurance. With a sudden grin, he jumped on board the dragon's neck...and waved to Tuff, who scrambled on behind him. "C'mon, Stormy...we need to get Dad!" he shouted and the Skrill leapt into the air, wings flapping powerfully and arrowing them directly towards the greedy vortex that was dragging the feebly struggling Hiccup down again.

"WHOA! This is totally awesome and scary!" Tuff shouted as they swooped over the water to the furious and frustrated roar of the giant dragon on the slope.

"Where's Dad?" Arild asked and Tuff leaned over and then pointed. Through the swirling water, he could see the limp, leather-clad shape of Hiccup, his auburn hair dark with water and green eyes staring wildly through the water. "Stormy...fetch!" The Skrill roared and dived, legs outstretched and clawed toes opened wide to snatch the helpless pirate. They hit the surface with a splash and claws closed on the limp shape, before wings pumped furiously and the dragon flapped up from the whirling waters. Slowly, they tugged Hiccup from the grip of the water, his hair sodden, eyes closed and lips blue. Tuff leaned over the side and stared at his Captain.

"We need to get to the ship," he said urgently, his hand tightening protectively around Arild. The boy's small hands tightened around the metallic spines and he pulled the left one a little.

"C'mon, Stormy-let's get back to the..."

The Skrill saw the muzzle flash just in time and banked, folding his wings and almost dropping back into the whirlpool as a cannon shot whisked past their heads. Tuff glanced up-to catch a truly horrifying sight. Amid the charred, shattered and still burning wreck of the flagship was a huge, horribly-burned shape. Drago's dead eyes were locked on the struggling dragon and he fired another cannon, the shot coming straight at them. Acting on instinct, Tuff grabbed the spines and dragged them back, wrenching Stormy up...and accidentally flipping the limp Hiccup up and out of the dragon's grasp.

"DAD!"

"Oh crap!" Tuff growled, leaning recklessly sideways and grabbing the icy and sodden hand of the man as it began to drop away. He clung on for all he was worth, a hand tight on the spines and legs wrapped round the Skrill's neck. Stormy growled. "Well, if you hadn't dropped him, I wouldn't be in this position..." he rambled, his arm feeling as if it was going to drop out. Another cannon fired from the wreckage and the Skrill roared.

"Tuff...what's happening?" Arild shouted.

"I think the evil dude, Drago, is trying to kill your Dad still!" Tuff shouted back. "RUFF! Thornton salvo!"

On board the Night Fury, his twin snapped her head up at his voice, not catching the words but staring across the sea and seeing the shots and the hideous shape on the wreck of the ship. The echo of 'Thorston Salvo' reached her ears and she rammed the Thunderdrum with more powder than even her brother would have hazarded, made her aim and fired immediately, before Drago could reload. The man was horribly burned and dying but his rage was so great it drove him on to defy his impending death in his desire to kill Captain Fury. And in doing so, he threatened her brother. She would never admit it to anyone-including herself-but she loved Tuff so she watched the huge shot explode from the cannon and arrow straight and true towards the enemy.

"Lay off my brother!" she growled as the shot slammed into his location, exploding and finally blowing the flagship to splinters with a shattering explosion. Stormy flapped furiously against the concussive blast and splinters of wreckage rained down across the bay and the collapsing vortex. Finally, he turned and flapped back to the Night Fury. They landed neatly on the deck and Tuff leapt down, lying Hiccup carefully by the watching crew. Limp, sodden and waxy pale with blue lips, he didn't respond as his friends called him. Worriedly, Fishlegs crouched by him and reset a hand on his chest, staring into the lax face and then looked worriedly around.

"He's not breathing."