Chapter Text
Gerard had always felt like an outcast. He was the son of the chief of their tribe, but he wasn’t amounting to much. Even his little brother was being better at things than him. Not brute force or leading, exactly, but Mikey was certainly more-liked. Gerard, who was more interested in art and less in becoming the chief, didn’t really mind this. It gave him more time to be by himself and make his art, even if it made others not like him too much. It was especially bad, considering he was 16 and hadn’t even hurt a single dragon. Mikey hadn’t either, but at least he had more time to do it. His father was seriously considering exiling his eldest son until he killed a dragon, and Gerard saw nothing wrong with that, except he wouldn’t be able to see Mikey again. That was the only drawback. His brother meant everything to him, as he had nothing and no one else to turn to.
All of this was running through his mind as he walked through the forest, heading to the cove. He’d found the space several years ago and went there when he wanted to be alone or just wanted to draw, as it always gave him inspiration. His notebook tucked under his arm and a satchel around his chest, he made his way down the rocky slope with ease from much practice, skipping to a stop just short of the pond. He took a perch on one of the rocks and began to draw, starting with the pond, watching as the fish swam to and fro. Art always gave him an escape from the world, no matter where he was. However, as he continued to draw, he began to notice something different in the cove. There were less fish and marks in the ground. This caused Gerard to pause in fear and look around. The only thing he knew of that could cause those marks was a dragon.
From a young age, every viking had been taught to be aggressive towards dragons, for they were evil and destroyed the vikings’ livelihood through their crops and their homes. Gerard wasn’t as sure about the teachings but even he knew dragons were dangerous and aggressive towards vikings, so if one was around, it was to be avoided at all costs. But, as he didn’t see any sign of the dragon, he relaxed only slightly. He had been planning to also make some sketches of dragons from the Book of Dragons he’d tucked into the satchel, but the proposed presence of one had made it too dangerous to stay. He grabbed his stuff and ran out of the cove, heading back to the village. As he did so, he looked to the sunny sky and saw smoke coming over the tops of the trees. A dragon attack was going on. He should steer clear of it, but if he did, that that would be the final nail in the coffin for him staying in Berk. Besides, his little brother could be in danger, and so he went towards the village.
Even from the distance he was at, he could see the bolas flung to bring down the attacking dragons. One even crashed near him and Gerard jumped. He glanced at it, seeing a Monstrous Nightmare light itself on fire to get rid of the ropes. They had the nasty ability to have their fire be able to stick to anything, including themselves, and an equally nasty temper. Gerard ran on and soon came to the edge of the village. He saw a Hideous Zippleback poke both heads into the windows of a home, where it soon filled with a green gas before it was ignited. Those were especially hard to deal with, having two heads instead of one. Gerard flinched from the ensuing explosion and kept running, grabbing a shield on the way. He had to stop for a moment to bring it up to stop spines from hitting his body. The Deadly Nadder flew on, giving a caw. Their tail spines were very poisonous and could be shot, so he was lucky he had the sense to grab the shield. Gerard kept it close as he continued on, bringing it up a second time when a Gronckle ran across his path. Those things could eat anything, mainly rocks, which they shot out again mixed with their fire. It didn’t notice him and Gerard was able to progress. He headed to his home, which resided on the second highest hill in the village. He had to find his brother.
“Watch it!” snapped a viking. The teen looked back to see Bob, another viking in the village. He was younger than Gerard but considerably bulkier and had no qualms about killing dragons. He was known for being able to take on the stocky Gronckles and the pissy Nightmares, which gave him a lot of respect. Anyone who could take on the Monstrous Nightmares and win was a good viking to have around. Bob then ran off and Gerard looked around, trying to spot some others he knew. He saw Ray at the bolas with some others, his curly hair poking out from under his helmet, and there was Pete at one of the towers that lit up the sky, making sure it didn’t get knocked down by a dragon or something. Everyone in the village was helping to fend off the dragons except for him, and sometimes, that made Gerard feel bad. Then he reminded himself that he couldn’t exactly take on dragons with his pitiful frame and weak fighting skills and so it didn’t bother him too much.
“Have you see Mikey?!” he called at a passing viking. Mark, he thought the name was.
“He’s with Billie and Tré!” answered the viking before charging headfirst to deal with a swarm of Terrible Terrors. Tiny beasts, but dangerous nonetheless. Gerard paled at the answer and began searching for the dragon hunters. They held an especially large grudge against dragons after what had happened many years ago. When Gerard had been only five, the village had been attacked, like now, except it came with a rare dragon that had never been seen before. It had attacked the village and taken nothing except Billie and Tré’s best friend Mike, where they had vowed revenge on dragons ever since and had been trying to find the mysterious dragon who had taken their friend (and presumably ate him). They weren’t the worst fellows, they could actually be really goofy, but when it came to dragons… Gerard shivered. He needed to take his brother away from them and protect him until the attack was over. They were relatively easy to find. Just look for the cluster of dragons attacking the same two vikings.
“COME ON!” Billie roared, swiping his sword at a diving Nadder, “IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO?!” He brought up his shield to block the Nadder’s fire breath and stabbed it in the chest. Tré gave a battle cry worthy of the gods as he lobbed off one head of a Zippleback with a single swipe of his greatsword. The other head cried out in pain before it was also severed from the body. Gerard could hear small cheers from the side and looked over to his brother. He ran to Mikey, furious.
“What are you doing here?!” he hissed, “Get back to the village!”
“But this is so much cooler!” Mikey whined.
“Village, now!” Gerard grabbed Mikey’s hand and took his back to the village. Mikey tried to resist but was forced to run as they heard flapping above, looking up and seeing a Nightmare coming down on them. Gerard pushed Mikey ahead of him as they ran, the Nightmare landing with a thump and a roar before it began to chase them.
“To the house!” The elder shouted. Mikey needed no prodding, heading straight for the nearest home. It wasn’t completely dragon-proof, no home was, but it was protect them for a small time. The ran inside through a broken door and jumped to the sides as the Nightmare sprayed its fire. Luckily neither of them were hit and the hid to the sides of the doorway as the Nightmare pushed its head in. it looked around for them, but with its large head, it couldn’t turn much and so was forced to back out. A jet of the sticky fire streamed into the house one last time before the Nightmare left it alone and Gerard and Mikey found themselves trapped in the burning home.
“GEE!” He was on the other side of the room, separated by the fire. Gerard had to get over to him, somehow. Glancing around, he spotted a collapsed rafter that bridged over the fire, not yet consumed by it. He climbed up a chair and hopped onto the rafter, running across it to join his brother. By this time they were both coughing, choking on the smoke, and Gerard had them crouch, keeping an arm around his little brother.
“We’ll be okay, just a little longer.” he promised. He wasn’t sure if they would get out of this alive, as there were no windows on their side and there was no way out. Mikey began to cry through his coughs and Gerard held him close, prepared to face the fire first if it meant Mikey would be okay. Suddenly, though, the fire began to dim. Gerard looked up as he heard water splash and the fire sizzle and saw that an opening was being made in the blaze. He tugged Mikey along towards the opening, right where the front door was, and a hand reached out to him. He grabbed it and they were pulled out of the burning home and back into the clear air of the village. He looked back, to thank their savior, and his words died in his throat.
It was Frank, a bucket in one hand as he panted from the flames. Gerard would never admit this out loud, but he’d fallen for the younger viking, amazed at how he had no fear of anything and helped with everything. He’d been taken into the village as a baby, found on the shore amongst the wreckage of a ship, and had always been different from the other kids, a little like Gerard himself. He even had his hair trimmed weirdly, keeping it long in the front and back but short on the sides, and his size for his age was a mystery as well. Many called him a Hiccup, for he was like the runt of the tribe. Didn’t stop him from doing lots of things other, larger vikings could do, though.
Sometimes, rumors swirled around about where Frank could have come from. Some thought he could have come from a viking tribe far from Berk, even possibly a Berserker or a literal Outcast, for they knew he hadn’t come from Berk. Some thought that a dragon could have stolen him from his home and then dropped him somewhere else, for he had large scars on his arms, from just below the elbows to his shoulders, two marks on each arm, and these had been on him even before he had been found. Wherever he had come from, though, many were certain he had been involved in the shipwreck. And Frank said nothing of anything that had happened, both not knowing the truth and because he tended to keep to himself despite his outgoing nature.
“You okay?” he asked. Gerard nodded.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” He blushed a little, “Thanks.” Frank shrugged.
“Hey, I’m on firefighting duty. It’s my job.” With a wave goodbye, Frank ran off to put out more fires. Gerard sighed. Mikey jabbed his side.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
“To get you to stop daydreaming.” Mikey explained. He looked around, “At least the Nightmare’s gone.”
“Almost.” Gerard muttered and pointed. Mikey followed his gaze and winced. Approaching them was their father, and he didn’t look too happy. Dragons were now flying away with their loads and sometimes one was struck down, but not all of them. As always, it was probably their fault.
“Both of you. House. Now.” Their father ordered. There was no use arguing, so they hung their heads and did as they were told. They were also accompanied by Travis, the resident blacksmith and a friend of their father. He could also be reasoned with, unlike said father, easier for Mikey to do than Gerard, as he trained in the smithery under Travis.
“We didn’t do anything wrong!” Mikey complained to him. Travis sighed.
“Yes, except you got yourselves into trouble. Again.”
“How were we supposed to know that we’d get attacked by a Monstrous Nightmare?”
“Doesn’t matter, both of you should’ve been home when this happened.” He gave Gerard a look, knowing that he hadn’t been home to keep his little brother out of trouble. Mikey may have been better liked than Gerard, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get into his own brand of trouble.
“But it’s all over now.” Mikey tried to reason.
“Just get home.” Travis pointed to their house.
“C’mon.” Gerard grabbed Mikey’s hand and took him home. The younger was sullen the whole time and flinched when Gerard closed the door harshly. Not only did he have a mad father to deal with, Gerard wasn’t any happier.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” he hissed, “You know to avoid Billie and Tré!”
“They’re not dangerous!” Mikey argued.
“Yeah, but what they do can get you killed!” Gerard poked Mikey in the chest to make his point, “They’ve been doing this for a decade, Mikes. They know what they’re doing and have only lost a few toes for their trouble, as well as a hand in Tré’s case. You’re a lot younger, smaller, and less experienced! You need to practice in the arena before taking on the dragons with them!”
“Ger-”
“Listen to me when I say that I don’t want you with the Hunters while they’re fighting until you have more experience fighting dragons, understand? You’ll probably get this lecture again from Dad when he gets here, so just don’t say anything.” Mikey growl but didn’t say a word. He knew Gerard was right, at least about the lecture. Grumpy, he took a chair at the dining room table, crossing his arms.
“So what were you doing when the dragons attacked? In your drawing cove?” Gerard said nothing, so Mikey knew he’d hit it on the mark, “Dad’s gonna be so mad at you again.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” Gerard said lowly, looking away to the fireplace, “I would’ve been away longer if it hadn’t been for the cove.”
“Why? What happened? Did you get attacked by a dragon?” Gerard shook his head.
“No, but I was sure one was around. You wouldn’t believe how big the gashes were in the ground!” Mikey rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure it was nothing.” He rested his head on his arms, “You spend so much time there and don’t come back with anything except dumb drawings. You never play with me anymore.” Gerard’s face took on a saddened look.
“Mikey...” Before he could say anything, the door was opened by their father. He wasn’t as mad as earlier, but that didn’t mean they weren’t about to get chewed out.
“Come here, boys.” he sighed. They were hesitant to do so, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re both alright.” They understood his worry and immediately ran into his arms. Being one of the biggest and strongest vikings on the island, he easily lifted them into his arms and hugged them tightly.
“Good boy for keeping him safe, Gerard, but stay in the village from now on.” Their father said, “And Mikey, stay in the house next time.”
“Yes sir.” They pulled away after the hug and watched as he went to the kitchen table, pulling out a scroll from his clothes. They knew he needed to be alone and headed upstairs. After all, Fall was coming (even though Spring was just ending) and he was the chief, he had an entire village to feed. He didn’t need their trouble to make things worse. As they got ready for bed, Gerard noticed Mikey’s nervousness.
“Something wrong?” He took a seat at the end of his brother’s bed. Around Mikey’s side of the room were instructions for inventions and a worktable while the walls on Gerard’s side were covered in charcoal drawings of various things, including dragon sketches. Sometimes Gerard had to use the worktable for his drawings, and so it had a few of them scattered about on the surface. Mikey didn’t mind this, as the drawings sometimes gave him ideas for inventions.
“Yeah.” Mikey nodded, “Do you ever think this will stop?”
“The dragons attacking us?” Mikey nodded again. Gerard reached over and rubbed his brother’s head, “I don’t know, but I’ll always be here if anything happens, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I promise. Cross my heart.” Gerard made the motion over his chest and Mikey smiled.
“You don’t have to be so extra, Gee.” The elder gave a calming kiss to Mikey’s forehead.
“Yeah, but I like to be. Goodnight.”
“‘Night.” The younger yawned and turned over. Gerard made sure the covers were snug around him before Gee returned to his own bed. He went to sleep, but it wasn’t easy, especially with the nightmares that plagued his dreams.
“Listen up!” Chief roared over the talking vikings, “Winter is coming and the dragon attacks have only increased! If we don’t get rid of them now, we may not survive the Winter!” They were all gathered in the Great Hall after what had happened that day, worried about what would happen next.
“But how?” called one viking.
“We hit ‘em where it hurts: the nest!”
“But anyone who goes searching for it never comes back!” protested another.
“If we can find it, then it’ll all be worth it.” said Chief, “And anyone who stays behind will have to keep an eye on Gerard and Mikey.” Hands shot up, causing Chief to reply, “That’s what I thought.”
“One was bad enough, you’re asking people to keep an eye on both of them?” Travis asked as the vikings began writing their names down on the scroll for the expedition.
“I can’t bring one of them along with us. And you have to stay behind regardless.” Chief said. Travis blinked.
“I do?”
“You, Matt, Mark, and Tom need to help train the younger vikings for fighting dragons, just in case.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes, “I can’t have my boys nearly getting themselves killed again.”
“Then why not ask-” Chief gave Travis a look that said, ‘Mention them and you’ll be stuck with the boys longer than you thought possible,’ causing Travis to correct his statement, “Okay, yeah, I won’t go there.”
“Thank you.” Vikings began filing out of the hall and Travis got up from his seat to stand beside Chief, “Are you afraid of not coming back?”
“A little.” Chief admitted, “I’m afraid of what could happen to my boys. Neither of them are ready to lead. I don’t know if Gerard ever will be ready. He spends too much time drawing in the forest and less about learning how to deal with the village.”
“You’re worrying too much.” said Travis, “When the time comes, they’ll be ready.”
“You have way more confidence than I do, Travis.”
“Sometimes I have to have it with how you worry so much.” They walked together to the entrance and watched as the other vikings returned to their homes. The only home that didn’t go dark was that of the Dragon Hunters, who seemed to never sleep. They were always working on another way to kill dragons or use their parts for weapons, as far as anyone knew. Things were quiet for a moment as they stood there, gazing into the sunset.
“...If anything happens, make sure the boys’ll be okay.” said Chief.
“I will.” Travis agreed, nodding, “When will you be leaving?”
“In a week, as soon as we have the supplies we need. I’ll also need to talk to them about weapons and armor.” Chief nodded to the hut of the Dragon Hunters, “They’ll know what to do. I wish I could bring them along, but it seems they’re staying behind.” Travis shivered.
“I love those guys, they’re good friends, but I just hope they won’t decide to suddenly go berserk while you’re gone. They’re on a loose leash as it is.”
“We grew up with them, Travis. They only thing they’ll go berserk on are dragons. With so many of us gone, they’re our best bet of protecting the village.”
“Good point, but be careful.”
“I will. I’m not leaving my sons without a father unless I have to.”
Every kid in the village was now signing up for dragon fighting lessons while the adults were gone, everyone except Gerard. He’d been taught to despise dragons, but he could never imagine himself killing one. He could always draw the scene, but it just wasn’t him , y’know? And so he fled into the forest again to sketch. He was careful as he approached the cove, wary of the dragon that had made its mark there. He hoped it wouldn’t return and so he searched around for signs of it. Nothing could be seen until he got to the edge of the cove and looked down into it. From this height, he could see the marks in the ground clearer and his jaw dropped. It wasn’t random, it was a drawing, filling up about half the cove, depicting a tree on the other side of the cove. It wasn’t perfect, more like a stick drawing than anything, but it was a drawing nonetheless.
Was the dragon trying to draw? Or is this just a coincidence? Gerard silently thought. Wondering if he’d get a response, he hopped down into the cove and carefully tried not to step on the drawing. Picking up a stick, he drew a Gronckle beside the tree, flapping its wings as if trying to fly to the top. Nodding at his work, detailed despite the restrictions of the ground, he walked over to take a seat on one of the rocks and drew in his sketchbook. Sometimes he’d come up with ideas for stories and recorder them in the book, but he never did anything with them because there was no one he could share them with. And so he only drew. He drew and drew and drew until it was lunchtime, where he headed to the Great Hall. It was beef stew that day and, after taking a bowl, Gerard tried to find a place to sit. Several of the tables were occupied by other vikings his age or close to it, such as Bob, Ray, Pete, even Frank was there, which was a feet in and of itself, seeing as he tended to keep to himself when eating. Seeing no free spots on mostly full tables, he took a seat at an empty one and began looking through the Book of Dragons for information on what dragon was creative enough to draw like that.
‘Deadly Nadder: Beautiful but deadly, kill on sight.’ It looked like a gigantic chicken with spikes and Gerard tried to remember what the status was for killing one, wondering how hard it would be to do it. He came up with just being noticed, and he didn’t really need that. He was noticed alright, but for all the wrong reasons.
‘Gronckle: Strong and sturdy, kill on sight.’ It looked like it was made of boulders rolled into one another. The status it’d give him would at least get him a date, maybe even Frank. That’s be nice, if people knew he liked men.
‘Hideous Zippleback: Sneaky and cunning, kill on sight.’ It looked like two snakes on legs joined together. Two heads, twice the status. They were actually a relatively easy dragon to kill if you got their heads to fight each other. Gerard thought that’d be a good dragon to go after, if he could ever bring himself to kill one.
‘Monstrous Nightmare: Bad-tempered and mean, KILL ON SIGHT.’ Didn’t need to tell him twice. It was long and snake-like like the Zippleback, but its forearms were also its wings and it had bigger horns. Only the toughest, best vikings went after those. Gerard winced as he remembered what had happened the previous day. No way was he tangling with one of those again. He flipped through the rest of the book, trying to spot other dragons they knew of and searching for who could have done the drawing, but none of them seemed to fit the picture of a creative dragon. Of course, that could just be because of the one dragon’s personality and the book was biased, but he still couldn’t come up with anything. He flipped to the end of the book, to the last page, and gave a pause.
‘Night Fury: The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. NEVER engage this dragon. Your only chance, hide and pray it does not find you.’ Ominous much? There was no drawing and no statistics about it, for it had never been seen. It only attacked at night, though, and was a sureshot. It never stole food, never showed itself, and never missed. They’d lost a lot of catapult towers whenever it decided to terrorize them. Gerard closed the book. Even though it was mysterious enough to fit the picture, he doubted that the drawing had been made by one. After all, they’d never been seen and seemed to keep to themselves. Lunch was now over, as others were putting away their dishes, and so Gerard did the same. He glanced over at where Frank was, talking to others who were friends with him and probably didn’t even know Gerard existed, and turned away. He didn’t need to make this any worse than it already was. Clutching his sketchbook and tucking the Book of Dragons back into his satchel, he went back out to the cove. And when he returned, he found that he’d been answered. Besides the tree and the Gronckle, there was now an image of a man chasing the dragon, most likely a viking. Gerard raised an eyebrow before taking a stick again to add to the drawing, but not before putting down his satchel and sketchbook. He put in a Monstrous Nightmare, preying on the viking and saving its fellow dragon, then turned away. He froze when a large shadow passed over the cove. The dragon had returned.
Gerard stayed in place, hoping it would ignore him, and didn’t dare look at the dragon, wherever it was. He heard it land with a thump and a flap of the wings, snorting. He heard its claws scratch the ground as it came close and squeezed his eyes closed when he felt its breath brush against him in a wave. Whatever it was, he was sure it was very large. He waited for it to do anything, anything to him, but there was nothing. It seemed to just stay behind him, panting, and and was probably looking at the drawing. Then it scratched the ground again a few times before it stopped and Gerard was pushed forward by a large gust of air. He landed in the pond and came to the surface, gazing up. He didn’t see anything in the sky. The dragon was already gone. He climbed out of the pond, glad he’d left his things behind, and looked at the drawing. It now had a human clinging to the side of the tree. Gerard stared at it, then grabbed the stick and added storm clouds. He didn’t know what was possessing him to talk with a dragon through drawings, but who knew. He then fainted, glad to have survived the encounter.
After he woke up and ran back to the village, Gerard couldn’t help but make imaginative sketches of the dragon, trying to figure out what it could be, even though he hadn’t seen even a scale of it. He knew it had large wings and had to have been gigantic based on the shadow, but that was it. It was creative, though, and certainly not mean, so it wasn’t a Nightmare, though he could be wrong. It was also fast, based on how it had arrived and left. Not many dragons were fast, so that helped narrow it down, but he still didn’t have a good idea of the kind of dragon he was dealing with. None of the main dragons were fast enough to be that fast, not even the Nadders, and the only known ones to be that fast were the Flightmare and the Skrill, but they didn’t seem large enough. The only thing that was mysterious enough to fit everything was the Night Fury, but he didn’t want to be certain just in case he was wrong. In fact, this might be a whole new dragon species!
If he could keep talking with it and studied it, he could add it to the Book of Dragons before he decided to do anything about it. And all his observations would make him known for better reasons, at least, like Bork the Bold, who had first created the Book of Dragons. Other vikings have added onto it since and have also gained recognition, and if he could do the same, then maybe his father wouldn’t dislike him anymore. And, if he was going to discover a new species of dragon, he might as well start listing everything he knew about it and add onto that as he went.
Very large, at least in the wingspan. (Measurement: Bigger than a Nightmare’s?)
Very fast, like a Skrill or Flightmare. (Measurement: Appears and disappears in seconds.)
Creative? Draws with me.
Didn’t kill me on sight, so has had interactions with peaceful vikings or unafraid of vikings?
Gerard stared at his findings and sighed. Right now, it was classed as a Mystery Dragon, seeing as next to nothing was known about it, and it would be hard to learn more if he didn’t do the right things.
“Gerard?” Quickly he closed his book and turned to see his father. He’d been sitting on his bed and now he watched as his father came up the stairs. Mikey was probably eating dinner downstairs and so the two older males were alone with each other.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Son, I know that you don’t think too much of fighting, but you’ll have to be the chief someday and I want you to step up to that.” said his father, “And so I had Mikey sign you up for dragon fighting classes with him.” Gerard blinked.
“W-why? Don’t I do just fine with what I already do?” His father shook his head.
“No, Gee, you don’t. You actively avoid the village as much as you can and you don’t have any friends, so I think this will be a great opportunity to get out, make friends, and start learning how to be a chief.” Gerard frowned. He wanted to argue about it but knew what his dad was like, and so he left it be. He nodded to show his agreement, no matter how reluctant it was, and his father smiled, “Good boy. Lessons will start after the ships leave port, and I want you to be up bright and early your first day.”
“Yes sir.” His father turned away, “And Dad?”
“Yes?”
“...Do you really think going after the nest will help?” It wasn’t made in a condescending tone, just a worried, curious one, and Gerard’s father nodded.
“I truly think this will work. If it doesn’t...” He shrugged, “We may have to leave home.” Gerard didn’t like the sound of that. Berk had been his home for as long as he could remember and he didn’t want to leave it if he could.
“At least be careful.” he said. He’d say this again in a few days time when his father left, but he still said it this time. His father smiled.
“I will, Gee. After all, just being a viking is an occupational hazard.” Gerard couldn’t help but crack a smile at that, where his father then returned downstairs. His smiled then dropped as he thought about the days to come. He didn’t look forward to dragon fighting, but it’s not like he could back out of it. And he’d do his best to please his father, even if he would probably get killed in the process. It’s what his father wanted, right?
Right?