Chapter Text
It is said that trust is hard to earn, easy to lose and, once broken, takes forever to repair. Astrid had never believed more in that statement than she did now. She stood as close to the edge of the cliffs as she dared, her gaze focused on the ships that were slowly approaching the harbor— too close; closer than they should've dared to come. Unfortunately, that was all she saw. No sign of reinforcements. No sign of Hiccup, Snotlout, or Fishlegs. And no word from Tuffnut, who had gone off to "do his own plan," which never meant anything good. There was certainly nothing from Daenerys, whom she wished was by her side now, more than ever. If she could pick only one person on the team to help her defend the Edge, she'd be hard pressed to choose between Hiccup and Dany— but as long as she could have one or the other, she'd be much more confident in their ability to protect their home.
She adjusted her stance, every muscle locked with tension. Stormfly shifted next to her, growling low and anxious. Astrid didn't blame her. The dragon hunters were out there, waiting. They didn't have time for this. They didn't have the numbers. And she didn't have the strength to pretend her nerves weren't fraying with each passing minute.
Not with Dany still furious. Not with Tuffnut. . . well, being Tuffnut. Not with Ryker holding Ruffnut gods-knew-where.
Astrid felt it again— that cold bite of guilt in her gut. She'd made the right call, hadn't she? Letting Heather in, trusting her despite what it might cost? Dany didn't see the long game. She never had. But Astrid had gambled everything on that trust— on Heather— and now she had to hold the line with just a Nadder, possibly Drogon, a half-mad Viking, and the person she may have hurt beyond repair.
The shuffle of footsteps in the grass behind her had her whirling, axe already halfway out of its strap. But it wasn't an enemy. It was Tuffnut. And behind him, stepping into the early-morning light with a set jaw and smoldering silence, was Daenerys. Astrid's heart jolted so hard she almost missed the relief that followed it.
She swallowed.
Dany was suited up. Her leathers were tightened, hair braided back with pin-point precision. Her bow slung across her back, quiver full. Drogon shifted to a stop behind her like her own, personal shadow. The only thing that indicated anything was different between the two of them was the fact that her best friend wouldn't look at her. Not just not in her direction; she was even avoiding her gaze— something she hadn't done since they'd first met all those years ago. It made the ache in Astrid's chest only grow more prominent as she thought of all the backwards progress she'd made with the woman who was supposed to be her sister.
Tuffnut raised both arms like he was announcing royalty. "Behold! The girl has emerged from the box!"
Astrid took his statement at face value, discarding it as one of his Tuffnut-isms. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on her best friend as she tried to figure out what to say. "Dany!" she finally exclaimed, shock and relief evident in her tone. "You're here! I. . . didn't think you'd come."
The blonde seemed to fold in on herself a little more. "I know," she responded quietly, speaking to her toes.
More tense silence. They could all feel the increasing urgency of the threat of the dragon hunters, but the two women had no idea how to move past the wedge that had formed between them. A thousand apologies clawed up Astrid's throat. None made it past her lips. She just nodded, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you."
Daenerys still wouldn't meet her gaze. "What's the situation?"
Astrid forced her mind into motion. "They're waiting for Ryker's signal. We don't know how many, but it's definitely the full force."
The blonde lifted her eyes momentarily to take in the Edge, noting how only three of them were present. She frowned. "Where are the others?"
Before Astrid could answer, Tuffnut snapped his fingers. "Oh! That's right, I forgot— they went to go rescue Johann from dragon hunters. Not Ruffnut, though. She was taken by dragon hunters. My poor, poor sis. Or maybe it's poor dragon hunters. She's their problem now." He cackled at the thought of his sister annoying them into releasing her.
Dany was more concerned about the first part of the Thorstons' news. "Wait, they went after Johann?"
"Yeah," Astrid confirmed, feeling a spark of irritation at the blonde's continued mistrust of the merchant. "We got a distress message. Since Meatlug's the only one who's immune to dragon root arrows and Toothless and Hookfang are the only ones with Gronckle Iron armor, they're the ones who went to rescue him."
"And you didn't stop to think it might've been a trap?" the Targaryen pointed out coolly.
Astrid tensed again. "Dany. . ."
"You know I'm right," she snapped. "You all act like Johann's just some harmless traveling salesman, but you forget what he actually trades in. He's a merchant, Astrid. Not a hero. Not one of us."
Astrid's brows drew together, defensive instinct flaring. "He's helped us more times than I can count. He's a friend—"
"He's a merchant," Daenerys repeated forcefully. "And merchants trade in more than just supplies. Information is just another currency to them. He has no allegiance, Astrid. Only interest. You think we've bought his loyalty with fish and goodwill? Who's to say the dragon hunters haven't outbid us?"
The Hofferson exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself before she said something she'd regret. "He's never given us a reason not to trust him."
Dany's eyes darkened. "Neither did Heather. And look how that turned out." The air between them turned as brittle and frosty as the north side of Dragon's Edge. She took a deep breath, glancing out towards the ocean where the armada lay waiting to attack. They had bigger things to worry about than a grudge, she knew. There would be time to uphold it after they survived. "Look, Drogon doesn't trust him and he's never steered me wrong before, so neither do I."
Her dragon growled approvingly. Astrid flinched at the not-so-subtle jab. Tuffnut clapped his hands once. "Great! We've got the team back together— sort of. Now let's not die."
Ever the soldier, the Hofferson straightened and set her jaw. She turned to the younger Thorston. "The ballista on the roof. You know how to use it, right?"
"Uh, it's a massively destructive weapon, right?" Tuffnut stated as if she'd asked a stupid question.
She nodded. "It is. So, get up there and massively destroy things. But on my command, not before. You got it?" His expression brightened to excited determination. He picked up his favorite mace and swung it over his shoulder. "Uh, Dany—"
"Sorry, but Daenerys is coming with me," Tuffnut cut across her, forgoing the Targaryen's usual preference for personal space and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She made a face and shoved him away, but to Astrid's surprise didn't protest the direction. "We're going to massively destroy things together. I'm going to be a mentee of destruction." He chuckled to himself. "Achieving my dream job at the ripe, young age of eighteen. Oh, it's good to be me. C'mon, Daenerys."
It was only now that the blonde objected, apprehension and uncertainty shadowing her features. She glanced first out to the ships again, then at Drogon's towering form, remembering the rage that consumed her anytime dragon hunters were involved. And Astrid still didn't know about those three years. . . if she found out now. . . "Oh, I don't know. . ."
"Nope! No ifs, ands or buts— not even the double t kind," Tuffnut declared, grasping her wrist in a vicelike grip that made her shudder. He tugged her along as Astrid watched them, bemused, and wondered when they had started getting along.
As Tuffnut showed Dany how to operate the ballista, Astrid hid the Dragon Eye as Hiccup had instructed her. She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that an inconspicuous place like burying it under rocks would be enough to keep it out of the dragon hunters' grasp. When she returned to their main place of defense, she mounted Stormfly and gave her a pat as Tuffnut's complaint rang out from above:
"Come on! My hammies are starting to cramp!"
She held up a hand to him— them, she supposed. "Wait for it. . ." The ships drifted closer. "Wait for it. . . NOW!"
Tuffnut bowed grandly to Dany, gesturing to the lever. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, pulling the lever with much less enthusiasm— almost fearfully— than the Thorston himself would have. Tuffnut cheered as the volley of deadly bolts were released, flying straight and true towards their target. They hit the vessel's deck with violent force, splintering the wood straight to the bottom. Water soon poured into the holes the weapons made, too fast for any man to bail out. Others were lit with Drogon's flame and embedded themselves into the ship's sails where the cloth and wood quickly caught.
Tuffnut grinned and fist-pumped the air triumphantly. "Yes! Who kicks dragon hunter butt? Team Tuffnaerys kicks dragon hunter butt!"
Dany allowed a faint, small smile to appear on her lips but remained otherwise composed. Astrid flew Stormfly up to their level. "Let's not start kissing out own butts yet," she warned him. "This thing is far from over. Go!"
He leapt from the ballista and slid down Astrid's roof, then launched towards the zipline he and his sister had set up earlier that day. He reached the first catapult in record time, though there were still some kinks to work out as he nearly toppled off the cliff's edge before he came to a halt.
Then, he raced over to the weapon and touched the flame to the barrel that lay waiting for him inside. "Monstrous Nightmare gel plus open flame equals. . ." He pulled the lever to send the fire-filled barrel flying through the air.
It careened into another ship's side with destructive accuracy. Men yelled and leapt overboard as the fire spread. Tuffnut threw his hands up at another victory. "Fun for all! Well, not all. Just for me."
As Astrid flew Stormfly to snatch up Tuffnut mid-celebration (again), Dany and Drogon remained behind, keeping steady watch. She took a deep breath and knelt by the ballista, preparing the next shot with practiced hands. After all, the ballista was only a larger version of her preferred weapon. Drogon was still beside her, nostrils flaring, eyes locked on the waves. He, too, sensed what she did. This was only the beginning. It was far too early to count their victories yet.
But, she did know one thing: she would not let her rage consume her. Not the anger she still felt towards Astrid. Not the hurt she felt with Hiccup. Not her fury at the dragon hunters for their mere existence. She would keep her head because she couldn't afford to lose it in front of her friends. There was only one surefire way that she knew how to do that: no riding Drogon. If she wasn't on the back of her dragon in reach of very flammable ships, she wouldn't be tempted to torch them all. It was a plan that she knew would work because Astrid had her own strategy and she hadn't accounted for Dany at all, which meant that she didn't need to fly— even if he was, currently, their greatest and only asset.
--
Astrid and Tuffnut left Dany to defend the base proper to set off their other defenses. Throughout the day, they ran themselves ragged going from one side of the island to the other to make it look like more than just three riders were left. Astrid could tell that Stormfly was getting tired— Hel, they were all getting tired— but they couldn't stop. Ryker had more ships than they knew what to do with, a seemingly endless supply while their own dwindled to numbers she didn't want to think about.
Despite all of their efforts, the boats were gaining ground. Luckily, they still had the advantage, but the difference was getting less obvious by the hour. The first boats had docked on the sand as evening wheeled around, meaning the dragon hunters' soldiers wouldn't be far behind. Some that had survived the initial attack had taken advantage of their relative closeness and swum to shore, aiding in the first wave of land-based attacks.
Astrid refused to let herself despair. Because if she thought 'we'll lose,' then they would; it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. But things weren't looking good. She hated to admit it, but she was running out of plans. If she were Hiccup, she knew that would never happen. He had more ideas than all of them put together, not to mention their other greatest asset of a Night Fury with a long-range shot. If only she had more time, more teammates, more supplies— but it was all wishful thinking.
She knew by now that the A Team wouldn't be arriving in time. With the rate the soldiers were gaining ground, they wouldn't last through the next day. There was no way to get in touch with Hiccup, no way to even know where he was. It would just be the three of them, no matter what happened. She would make every second count. She could push past her exhaustion and brain fog for her friends. She wouldn't fail her team. She was a soldier, a pillar of strength and endurance. She was an anchor when others flagged.
Even when the soldiers breached their final line of defenses— the pile of logs she'd stacked up on the cliffside after getting the idea from the twins earlier that day— she wouldn't let herself falter. But, no matter what they did or how hard they worked, the soldiers still kept coming. In the forest, the fires burning from torches carried by dragon hunters drew closer on all sides. More ships poured through the mouth of the bay.
Retreat was the only thing that could dull her determination. When she finally had to withdraw and make their area of defense smaller, she lingered outside the clubhouse, her spine straight and shoulders pulled back, but her confident posture belied her reluctance to face the rest of her team. She could be as independent and stubborn as any other Viking, but she couldn't ignore the facts: there was nothing else they could do. Just as she was trying to figure out how to break the news to Dany and Tuffnut, the two teens joined her outside. The Thorston hurried forward; somehow, even now, having a spring in his step. Daenerys followed more sedately behind, her lips pressed into a thin line as she kept her gaze forever on the horizon— probably looking for Hiccup, Astrid guessed. She couldn't blame the Targaryen; there was a reason Hiccup was their leader and not her.
"Hey, there you are!" Tuffnut greeted her as if this were any other day and not, possibly, their last. "Listen, I've been thinking a lot—"
"It's over, Tuff," Astrid cut across him, not in the mood to hear whatever crazy thing he was about to say. "We tried, but there's just too many of them. My plan didn't work."
He gazed blankly at her, unmoved by her declaration. Then, much to her dismay, he produced the Dragon Eye and showed it to her. "I found the Dragon Eye! Someone buried it."
She snatched it from him. "I did! To keep it from the hunters!" She was glad that she had anger to replace her fear; it could give her the push she needed. Relying on her current emotions, she whirled on Dany, having been tired of her best friend's sullen silence, but only now able to address it. "What about you? You got anything smart to say?"
Daenerys was quiet as she thought for a moment, and then: "you probably could've chosen a better hiding place for the Dragon Eye if Tuffnut could find it."
"Ugh!" Astrid exclaimed, throwing her hands up with exasperation.
"Fine. You're right, okay?" Dany allowed coolly. "Your plan didn't work. It didn't stop them like you wanted. But, it did slow them down. If you hadn't come up with it, we'd already be overrun. Maybe it's bought us enough time that Hiccup's figured out the trap with Johann—" (She ignored Astrid's groan at her continued insistence.) "—and he's on his way back now. We just have to hold on for a little longer—"
"Hold on with what?" the Hofferson demanded, gesturing around them. "We've used all of our supplies! We're out of tricks. We're out of time."
"Well. . ." Tuffnut cut in, drawling out the word. "As a master of tricks myself, I wouldn't call what you did tricky. Maybe clever. But tricky? Nah. You need pizzazz, underhanded schemes, the ol' Thorston flair. Look, do you wanna be captured and tortured by crazed dragon hunters or listen to Plan Tuffnut? Because you might be out of clever schemes, but a master of trickiness is never out of tricks."
Astrid opened her mouth, ready to shoot him down— because it was Tuffnut, and it was Plan Tuffnut, and if she had to listen to one more ridiculous suggestion she might actually lose it— but then she looked at him. For once, he wasn't just playing the fool. There was a glint in his eyes, the kind of madness that, somehow, sometimes, actually worked. Maybe they didn't need another clever, sensible plan. Maybe they needed crazy. "Your plan? Well, what do we have to lose?"
The Targaryen stepped forward and, to Astrid's surprise, she nodded. "I agree. We should hear him out."
Astrid blinked. "Wait— what?"
Tuffnut beamed. "Finally! Someone who appreciates genius when they see it."
But Astrid hardly registered his gloating. She was staring at Dany, who stood calm and composed beside him, arms folded and silvery hair catching the torchlight. Of all the people she'd never expected to side with the twins. . . "You're seriously going along with his plan?"
Dany didn't flinch. "He stood by me earlier when no one else did," she stated, shrugging.
Astrid's brows drew together. There it was again— that unmistakable shift in Dany's allegiance. It wasn't just exhaustion warping her perception. Dany was choosing Tuffnut. Backing him. Not Astrid, her best friend. Not anymore.
"Okay," she began carefully. "So because he said some nice things when you were upset, now suddenly he's a tactical genius?"
Dany's eyes narrowed at her oversimplification of what happened. "No. But I know loyalty when I see it. He didn't turn his back on me."
The words hit Astrid harder than she wanted to admit. Her instinct was to fire back, to defend herself, to explain (again)— but there wasn't time. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and looked away, letting the sting of regret fuel her composure. She almost missed the last week when Dany hadn't acknowledged her at all; perhaps her silence was better than the sharp, biting remarks she was now on the receiving end of. But then again. . . maybe she deserved them, after all.
--
Needless to say, Tuffnut's plans were crazy. But, the important part was, they worked— much to Astrid's surprise. In hindsight, some of his ideas should've been so obvious to her, things that she could've thought of if only she was willing to step outside the box a little. Like, when he poured Monstrous Nightmare gel down the dragon hunters' climbing ropes and set them ablaze with a single magnesium blast from Stormfly (thereby forcing them to let go, lest they get lit on fire themselves.) Astrid was almost certain she'd heard of similar tactics being used on ring fortresses in other Viking tribes.
They went next to the scareships that Tuffnut had set up around the base. As the dragon hunters stormed up the wooden ramps, the dragon riders hid behind the stuffed caricatures of their friends and made (mostly) terrible impersonations of them— but luckily the soldiers didn't know any better.
They froze at the sight of Stoick the Vast. The teens had heard Snotlout's family cry enough times that that particular impersonation was pretty spot-on. Since Dany was still upset with Hiccup, she let Astrid control his dummy's voice as she used fake-Gobber's 'real' hand to throw an axe haphazardly, some of the soldiers scattering in fright at the very sight of a sharp object and imposing figure of the town's blacksmith. Tuffnut used Fishlegs' form to dump a whole barrel of rocks on the men below him.
Dany and Tuffnut stayed behind as she flew Stormfly to the next trick, which was over the forest. Dagur and his men were easy to track since they weren't making an effort to be quiet. Astrid had her dragon shoot spine-shots down at their feet, though they landed just short of their mark thanks to the leaves that were in the way. Dagur laughed at her 'pitiful' attempt. "They can't shoot at us through this canopy of trees! Nice try, Astrid! Your puny little Nadder spines are useless from up there!"
She merely smiled in the face of his maniacal laughter and spun Stormfly around. With the trap set, all she had to do was wait for Dagur to fall into it, which he did, blindly. Thinking he'd found them, the Berserker crowed joyously: "look, there they are, in the trees! Fire, boys! Fill 'em full of wood!"
The dragon hunters unleased a volley of arrows on the balloons Tuffnut had made earlier that day. The arrows hit their mark but instead of the screams of his enemies, all Dagur heard was a strange, high-pitched. . . whistling? Then, the air began to stink. Looking down, he saw noxious, green gas curling across the ground. "Zippleback gas?! She was driving us right into a trap!"
One of the men swung his torch around to see better. It accidentally got too close to the explosive substance right at their feet. Astrid laughed to herself as the answering ka-boom! rang through the trees, for once enjoying the twins' chaos rather than fighting against it.
When she made it back to the clubhouse, she was met with an enthusiastic Tuffnut who wanted to know exactly what happened. She tried to tell the story as fast as she could, knowing that, even with their extra plans, it wasn't over yet. Dany kept watch on the beach with one of Hiccup's spyglasses and sighed when she saw the next wave of soldiers. "They're never gonna give up. Astrid, take Stormfly and the Dragon Eye and go."
"What?" her best friend demanded, at the same time Tuffnut protested:
"Hey! Why does she get to leave and I have to stay?"
Dany didn't look away from the horizon as she answered, voice low but steady, "because, in some ways, you're better at this than I am."
Tuffnut blinked, mouth halfway open, clearly ready to argue. "Huh?"
She turned to face him then, the hand holding the spyglass dropping to her side. "I'm serious. I think in ways most people don't, but you think in ways I never could. I used to think it was just chaos for chaos' sake, but it's more than that. You see the pieces, you rearrange them until something wild works. . . or doesn't, but that's not the point. I need to learn that. I need to learn to stop trying to force everything into a perfect shape and start letting it be. . . whatever it needs to be."
Tuffnut tilted his head, brows slowly knitting together. "So. . . you're saying you're ready to embrace the madness?"
"I'm saying I'm tired of fighting my own 'too much,'" Dany stated quietly. "You don't apologize for yours and maybe I shouldn't, either."
"This is all very nice," Astrid spoke up after a moment of silence, "but I'm not leaving either of you—"
The rest of her objection was cut off by a dragon hunter's arrow that sailed right over their heads, embedding itself in the wooden planks just a hair's breadth above them. They flinched at its closeness. As they stood, Astrid let out a steadying breath. "Okay. Whatever we're going to do, Tuff, we need to do it fast."
--
Tuffnut was the one who lead the attack this time. He stood on the edge of the cliff that overlooked the beach as he waited for Ryker's men to come further up the sand. Dany and Astrid lay in wait on their dragons' backs, just out of sight. The younger Thorston stood proudly in front of their enemy with his chest puffed out and Chicken clasped in one arm, his other hand stroking her feathers with an air that was somehow intimidating. He didn't flinch when Ryker was finally close enough to meet his gaze, instead drawling out a cordial, "good evening, Mr. Ryker. We've been expecting you."
Chicken clucked her agreement. Ryker was not the least bit threatened by Tuffnut's admittedly vulnerable appearance. He waved a finger at the teen as he addressed his men: "you can start with this one. But save the chicken." His smile turned menacing. "I like chicken."
Tuffnut's pet let out a worried warble and ruffled her feather anxiously. He smoothed her feathers down reassuringly. "Not to worry, my little fricassee. You won't be on anyone's menu tonight."
He then let out an ear-piercing cry that made Dany very glad she wasn't standing right next to him. Some of the less battle-hardened soldiers flinched at the loud noise. On cue, their giant flock of Night Terrors swarmed out of cliff's crevices. They took their usual form of a huge dragon, it's great, dark wings lifting to block the light of the moon. Cast in shadow and facing a terrible, screeching beast, many of the dragon hunters dropped their weapons and fled. Unfortunately, Ryker was not so easily fooled.
Ryker let out a growl of frustration and scooped up on of the fallen bows. He took aim and released a dragon root-tipped arrow. If he wasn't her enemy, Dany would've happily told him how impressed she was with the accuracy of his shot. He met his mark perfectly, striking right in the heart of the black 'dragon' to hit the single, albino leader. As it was, her eyes narrowed at the dragon hunter as Smidvarg fell to the ground, unconscious. The flock scattered.
The older man turned back to Tuffnut with an amused smirk on his face. "You don't think I've seen what Night Terrors can do? You people never learn."
"I could say the same for you, Ryker," Astrid called out as she and Dany's dragons emerged from the shadows. "Stormfly, now!"
Together, using their dragons' bursts of fire (because this was shooting at other dragons, not people, like Dany was worried about— it was a step in the right direction), they corralled the black Night Terrors in the directions they wanted them to go. Scared of the blasts, the smaller dragons went willingly, swooping down on the hunters and raking their claws against the soldiers. They stole the dragon hunters' weapons, armor— anything they could get their talons on. The men threw up their hands to protect their heads from the attack as they raced towards the water, back to safety.
Ryker scowled at their spinelessness. "Get up!"
The women touched down, pleased with their efforts. For the first time in a while, they shared a companionable smile— though Dany's grudge was far from over. But it was a start.
Their quiet acknowledgement of their victory didn't last long. Taking advantage of their new position, Dagur threw himself at the nearest teen, who happened to be Astrid. She didn't even have time to gasp before she hit the ground, sand filling her mouth. She righted herself quickly, using her legs to kick the larger man off her. Dany scrambled off of Drogon's back, but Astrid didn't need help. She drew her axe to face off with the Berserker who was wielding his own. "I've got this! Go help Tuffnut!"
The Targaryen hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but she knew she could trust Astrid's battle skills even if she couldn't believe in her friendship at the moment. She nodded, though the Hofferson didn't see it, already letting out a battle cry as she charged towards her enemy.
As she hurried over to the cliffs where Tuffnut was still looking down on the chaos from, she drew her first arrow and strung it on her bow, aiming for the men who were climbing up the rocks. Above her, Tuffnut clutched Chicken tightly. "It's not over for us, Chicken. We do not go out like this." He shifted her so he could look directly into her tiny, beady black eyes. "Promise me, you'll fight to the end." When she didn't respond, he emphasized, "promise me!"
Chicken let out a startled cluck. "I knew I could count on you. You help Daenerys and take out the little ones. The big one is mine."
Before he tossed his pet over the side, he looked over the edge and felt a burst of satisfaction as the Targaryen's arrow aimed true, lodging itself in one of the soldiers' hands and making him lose his grip on the rocks. He cried out in pain as he let go, tumbling onto the sand below where he lay still. Then, he sent Chicken down after him.
While one might think that poultry did not make a good fighter, they would be surprisingly wrong. Chicken sailed downward with her claws extended and her beak ready to peck. She hit the first soldier and used her talons to secure her grip while she nipped at his face mercilessly. As the man fell, he took out his companion just behind him, leaving Ryker alone on the cliff face.
"Alright, Ryker," Tuffnut declared furiously, "gimme back my sister!"
"I'll tell you what," the older man sneered. "Get past me, and she's all yours."
Ryker didn't anticipate how crazy— and how willing he was to do anything for his sister— Tuffnut was. The teen let out a ferocious snarl and leapt right off the cliff, his hands outstretched as he aimed himself at Ryker. Tuffnut's weight brought the larger man down and they hit the sand with a harsh thud, Ryker landing on his back. Tuffnut was on him in an instant, punching, slapping, kicking— taking out all his anger on his sister's capturer.
But he got too cocky. He backed up to take a running leap at the man. And sure, his feet made contact with Ryker's chest, but the dragon hunter was an immovable object. The teen let out a cry of pain as he rolled on the ground, his legs cramping from the force of the hit.
Ryker smirked. He drew out his two blades and pointed them at the teen. "Alright. My turn."
Tuffnut tried to scramble away on his aching legs, gasping as he faced the consequences of his actions. But, that was when Dany's voice rang out, drawing Ryker's attention away from him: "no; it's mine."
Ryker turned to see Daenerys off to the side, her bow lowered but her chin high. Her silver hair clung to the sides of her face with sweat from fighting all through the day and into the night, her violet eyes fierce in the fading moonlight. The older man's sneer deepened when he saw the weapons she faced him with. "And what are you going to do with that toothpick?"
In answer, Dany dropped her bow. It hit the sand with a soft thump. She drew two arrows from her quiver and flipped them, holding one in each hand like daggers. The polished heads glinted, sharp, deadly, but small. Improvised. She didn't care. They were enough.
Ryker scoffed and charged.
Their weapons clashed instantly. Dany barely had time to lift her makeshift blades to meet his first strike. Steel clashed against hardened wood as Dany used her arrows to block and parry his twin blades. Each time he struck, she turned the attack aside, deflecting the blows just inches from her skin. She planted herself firmly between Ryker and Tuffnut.
With every strike he made towards her friend, who was lying winded in the sand behind her, she stepped in the way, catching his blades with the shafts of her arrows or ducking just in time. The shafts of the arrows barely held against his strength. Her bare feet slid dangerously in the soft ground, the loose sand giving her no purchase. But even when she stumbled, she rose again.
One arrow cracked.
She gasped, using the remaining one to cross-block his double slash, wood biting deep under the pressure of Ryker's swords. He leaned into her, a cruel grin on his face, his strength nearly forcing her to her knees.
"You can't win," he growled through gritted teeth.
"I don't need to win," Dany responded, her arms trembling— but her gaze didn't falter. Her violet eyes met his, unwavering, filled not with fear, but with resolve. "I just need to outlast."
Then, as if she'd timed it on purpose, a deafening plasma blast detonated with purple light just inches from Ryker's side. The force of it sent him sprawling, his swords skidding from his grip. She had never been so happy to see such a brilliant explosion of light. She turned her gaze up to the sky where sunrise was breaking over the horizon, shielding her eyes against the early morning light. Tuffnut had managed to get to his feet during their fight and straightened his helmet, looking up at the sky with confusion as well.
If they looked past the glare of the morning sun, they could see the outlines of dragons. Some were recognizable: Toothless and Meatlug and Hookfang. But even more weren't, and she wondered where they all came from. Dany raised a hand in silent thanks. While Astrid kept both of hers wrapped around her axe handle, her heart swelled with gratitude all the same, relieved that the rest of their team had made it back— because, after all, the saying was better late than never.
Despite the blade held inches away from his face, Dagur scowled at the approaching riders. "Why does he always have to make a production out of everything? I really hate that guy!"
--
With the rest of the riders' help, they were able to send the remaining dragon hunters' ships back out to sea. Astrid, Dany and Tuffnut returned to the clubhouse with their friends, tired but relieved that the danger had passed. Hiccup was particularly impressed with their efforts at keeping the Edge secure, especially when there had been just three of them— and quite possibly the three least likely people to work as a team, at least with their current circumstances. Daenerys had already drifted off a little ways, standing separate from the rest of her friends with her arms crossed against her chest, her head turned so that her gaze was focused on the bay.
Hiccup glanced at her, frowning, as disappointment made his stomach sink. She was still mad at them. She was here— she had willingly fought for him, for their home, but she had not forgiven them— and that was almost worse. He cleared his throat, trying to draw her attention back to them. She shifted, hearing the noise, but still avoided his gaze. Sighing, he decided he'd have to be the one to speak first. "How did you manage to hold them off for so long?"
"It's called teamwork," Astrid declared, her hands propped proudly on her hips. "Right, Tuff?"
"I'll go along with that. Since I am the captain of Team Tuffnut," he agreed, mostly speaking to Chicken, whom he had retrieved and was holding in one hand. With his free arm, he roped Dany into an awkward, sideways hug that made her bend slightly from the force of it. "But we also couldn't have done it without the Lady Stormborn here, either. She's the one who held down the base while Astrid and I played point guard."
The Targaryen immediately shoved Tuffnut away again, her expression flat, nose wrinkled. "Yeah, we're not that close," she muttered, straightening her leathers and brushing invisible dirt from her shoulder.
Tuffnut just grinned, entirely unfazed. "Aw, c'mon. After our little tête-à-tête, I figured we were basically blood siblings at this point. I mean, you saved my life!"
Hiccup blinked, watching the exchange with a confused tilt of his head. "Wait— you two. . . talked? Since when do you. . . not hate him?"
"Thank you," Astrid muttered under her breath, arms crossed, mirroring Dany's posture. "I've been asking myself that all day."
Dany's lip curled slightly. "I didn't enjoy it, if that's what you wanted to know. He just. . . wouldn't shut up."
"I was trying to boost morale," Tuffnut defended himself, lifting Chicken like a shield. "And clearly, it worked! She didn't kill me. Or leave. That's basically affection in Dany-speak."
Ruffnut arched a brow, noticing the different dynamic as well— though she was more concerned about Astrid's changed attitude towards her and her brother. "Well, you must be feeling extra guilty."
Astrid turned to her, her expression unexpectedly apologetic. "Actually, I am."
"And sorry."
"Definitely."
"And completely, one-hundred-percent embarrassed and exposed." The Hofferson narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at the older twin's taunting. Ruffnut clapped her hands together, then bowed with an exaggerated flourish. "Too much? Sorry. I accept your apology, my dear Astrid."
It was decided that the wild dragons wouldn't be able to stay on the Edge. There were simply too many of them and not enough space. So, as much as they wanted to make sure they wouldn't be hurt by dragon hunters again, the gang rounded them up to take them back to their island. During the flight, the twins— who always flew in close proximity to each other thanks to Barf and Belch's joint necks— exchanged a devious glance. No words were needed; the same thought flickered behind both sets of narrowed eyes and matching smirks. Loki Day was just around the corner, and now that Dany had shown she could tolerate them (barely), they silently agreed it was time to get her used to shaking things up a bit. Nothing too destructive— just enough to help her loosen up and get louder. Together, they would plot the most spectacular Loki Day prank ever.