Chapter Text
Life is good in the Hermia isles for many.
There’s not that much that can go wrong: there are terrible terror nests everywhere, to be fair, which suck, and there’s the occasional Gronkle which land inside the small quarry, but left alone they quickly see how brittle all the stone is and fly off. So it’s pretty good, all things considered.
Bdubs knows most islands have a much bigger number and variety of dragons, but he’s not particularly interested unless they come over to Hermia. They look cool on paper but would kill in reality. He knows this from his dad (one of the island’s best fighters, thank you very much Joel) who has also seen a few nadders from a distance and killed a very young Monstrous Nightmare (which luckily are not native to Hermia, at all.).
He’s only touched a dragon once- a butterflywing, when he was six. It was no taller than his waist even then (though some would argue he hasn’t grown since then anyway), and he’s never seen one since. They’re rare, Bdubs assumes. It was honestly beautiful, though! He’s wished he could see another, since.
Striding out of his small room at the back of the hut and into the town, he catches Pearl standing by the gate to the sheep pens, watching over them. Shepherding is a job often given to people their age, alongside farming- which is where Bdubs is going now. Up the steep path to the berry bushes at the top of the cliff. The two chiefs evidently trust the youths enough to let them do those two tasks on their own, unlike helping in the forges or medics, in which there are actual adults watching over them. (And he’s not jealous of Impulse and Mumbo training in the forges or Skizz learning to be a medic. It’s just a bit more interesting than the standard kid-errand boy-Viking progression. He might be at least something interesting, like a diplomat or- actually, not many of the jobs which would be sanctioned by his father are interesting. He’s probably gonna end up a guard like Joel.)
The berry pushes prick his hands and all the ripe ones are too high, but it’s a small price to pay. Pearl is currently sitting and literally counting sheep. Checks and balances, Bdubs thinks, checks and balances. And since it’s winter (and freezing!) there’ll only be a few more hours of daylight anyway.
…he’s rationalising, he knows.
Turning his attention to the movement he sees on the headland, he relaxes when he sees it’s just Scar leaning on his cane. Not much older than Bdubs is, and yet he gets to have a real job and not just be the errand boy.
It’s a really freaking cool job too: in exchange for occasional advice to Keralis and Cleo, the two chiefs, and standing around looking magical, he gets to have his own little cool looking hut all the way up here and little to no actual work. So lucky. When Scar had moved in, Bdubs had the good fortune to be allowed to help him set up his ‘magic crystals’. He fancies himself rather good at interior decorating, now, even if he’s not quite convinced by the magic.
“Bdubs, my dear fellow! How are you this fine afternoon? I haven’t seen you in a while, although that might be more my fault than yours.”
Grateful to have a respite from the berry bushes, he sits on a log and catches his breath quickly.
“Oh, I’m fine, Scar. Now how are you?”
“Doing well, doing well. My legs hurt a bit, but, you know. Gotta keep it up.”
“Yeah, I get ya, I get ya.”
They sit in silence for a beat.
“Hey, it’s getting dark. You should probably start to head back? Even though that ramp is harder on the way up than the way down, I can still normally hear you complaining from all the way in my hut.” He punctuates this with a stab of his cane into the ground, looking at Bdubs inquiringly.
“Oh… oh.” Looking up, Scar is right. Well, that’s just great. He’s also right in the fact that it will take upwards of forty minutes to get down, because he has to carry the huge baskets of the little red berries down. And he can’t afford to spill any more, he needs to keep up his reputation!
“You wanna eat in my hut with me? Doc might come in, because you know he doesn’t like eating in the hall. Oh, and I heard there’s gonna be a meeting after this in the other hall.” Scar grins blindingly at Bdubs, and he does have a point. The other, smaller and fancier hall is closer to here than it is to the hall in which others will be eating. So he can say he was conserving energy, or something! “Doc might wander in at some point, too? I hope you’re okay with that, he said he needed to borrow something. I can’t remember what, though. Okay?”
Putting on a heavy mock sigh and officiously rolling his eyes, Bdubs reluctantly agrees. Doc’s not bad company, anyway.
Scar’s hut is not how he remembers it, but that’s usual. Sporadically, Scar gets the urge to completely redecorate. Bdubs would beg for the day off work to help Scar rearrange his meagre furniture, if he’s being honest. Sheesh. Is this what his life has come to?
Sitting down on one of the stools, Bdubs whistles appreciatively when he sees it’s fresh fish in the stew and not the dried, salty stuff. He starts feasting happily. This is so much better than whatever slop the rest of the youths are eating.
After a few minutes in silence, the only sound being that of their mouths, the door to the hut swings open again. Bdubs automatically tenses, but quickly relaxed when he saw Doc’s familiar silhouette, stooped slightly to fit through Scar’s low (but very aesthetic) doorframe.
“Bdubs, my man! How are you?”
“Hey, Doc. I’m okay, really. Bit sore. How are the forges?”
“Okay.
“Forges… they’re alright. Impulse and Mumbo are learning fast.”
“They’re gonna be better than you soon, I bet. You’re gonna be obsolete and old.”
Doc flips him off with the hand that currently isn’t just a stump, then gets to work quickly fixing a spoon to it so he can take advantage of Scar’s generous hospitality.
Yet later still, when the food is finished (which is impressive even for Vikings considering the volume Scar made) Doc makes a comment about him needing to leave early for the meeting in the fancy hall, and doesn’t Scar need to be there early too as the official mage?
Scar attempts to curse but stops himself at the last minute, eyes twinkling. Asshole, Bdubs knows what he’s gonna say next-
“Sorry, I forgot I’m around a minor-“
“Hey, shut it, I became an adult four years ago.”
“You’re 20.”
“And you’re only 22!”
They hear a heavy sigh, and the bickering pair turn to see Doc standing at the open door, gesturing to it silently.
Bdubs takes the hint and leaves first, waiting to make sure Scar’s legs are doing fine with the short walk down the other side of the island to the room cut into the layers of rock. It’s not too full yet, so he sits at his regular table and waits.
He can see Cleo and Keralis at the High Table with what looks like a map on the wood between them. They’re- maybe not arguing, but Cleo looks absolutely pissed, and not the fun kind. Bdubs can’t think of anything that’s happened since the last meeting that could warrant this, though. Certainly not anything he’s done.
He’s pulled out of his deep thoughts with Impulse sitting on his left with Skizz opposite, still with ash on him despite there having been an entire meal since he was in the forges. That’s an achievement.
“Any idea what this is about?” Bdubs tries to whisper, but that is not one of his strong suits by any stretch of the imagination. Skizz smiles and then replies;
“Absolutely no idea, buddeh. You got a thought, Dipple Dop?”
“Nope.” sighs Impulse, who then greets Pearl and Mumbo as they come in together.
“Bdubs, where were you? We were waiting for you! Where’d you go?”
“I was with Scar. Nothing that exciting.”
“Still pretty cool though. The mysterious wooden hut on the mountain top…”
“Skizz, we all live in wooden huts on mountain tops.”
“Guys, they’re starting!”
The adults sitting down- xB, Jevin, Joel, Cub, and so on- fall silent near immediately as well as their two leaders stand on their bench.
“So, as many of you may well know, we have had a bit of a problem with rogues.” Bdubs perks up a bit at this. Not just them moaning about food.
“He means dragon-riders.” says Cleo with finality, with a slight glare at Keralis. Before the hall has a chance to react to this, to possibly panic because they as a whole can only just about deal with a gronkle, she continues. “They’ve been raiding some of our weapons. Doc?”
“Some of the raw iron, as well as some spearheads and crossbow bolts. We’ve found scales scattered around.” He sits down again with a thud. “We’ve identified some of them, and it’s not good.”
This is the moment when people start to talk- well, shout. They’re vikings, after all. Joel stands up, and starts to shout, and he’s quickly followed by others.
“Is it safe to leave the island?”
“Are you sure they haven’t stolen food?”
“Can’t Scar do anything against this?”
“Can we still go fishing?”
On and on and on. Bdubs puts his head in his hands when a few of those on his table join in.
Doc eventually whacks his (metal) hand-stump into a shield on the wall, causing a loud clang. The majority of the hall sit down, sheepishly.
“It’s safe to leave and fish. They haven’t stolen anything else. Scar is trying, but there’s only so much you can do against those dragons. Now if you’d let us tell you what those are…”
Cleo gestures to Keralis, who holds up two separate scales, each as large as his palm.
“We think this one-“ he raises his left hand, with a bright teal scale, sort of bumpy “-is a Deadly Nadder. You’ve at least heard of them, I hope. There are a few which nest on the cliffs. And the other-“ the one in his right is bright white, reflecting and refracting like a prism until it shines with a thousand little rainbows. “-we think is a Light Fury.”
This again causes (more subdued) chaos, whispers breaking out around the hall. Bdubs thinks they’re overreacting. Chances are it’s not a light fury, they’re so nearly extinct. (Not extinct enough, as his father would say, though.) And even if it is, the rogues don’t seem interested in hurting them. Just crossbow bolts, and they make those by the dozen. He’s sat though Impulse and Mumbo complaints about so many bolts, why do we need so many enough times.
“Calm down, calm down. Nothing’s gonna hurt you guys, I promise.” A few minutes pass with the same low-level noise. Bdubs can see even Joel looks a bit nervous- hell, Cub looks nervous. Shit.
Keralis meekly turns and whispers “Cleo?”
“All of you, be quiet!”
They’re quiet.
“We don’t know anything more about these riders. We might be completely wrong. Calm down, okay? Meeting adjourned.” She sits and turns back to Scar, who’s been in silence the whole meeting, watching them and smiling slightly. Bdubs wishes he could hear what he’s telling her, as Pearl pulls him out.
“That was crazy. Rogues- riders? Wow. Would you ever want to ride a dragon?”
Bdubs hums slightly. Good question. “Maybe. Depends on what dragon it is. A fury, Helheim no. But something like a gronkle maybe. If it was tame, of course.”
“You’d be waiting a while. Can’t tame a dragon big as that.” comments Skizz as he comes up behind them. “The terrors are only just about bearable.”
“These rogues have managed it, though.”
“Who knows, double-down. Who knows.”
They wander off to their respective huts. Bdubs creeps into the main room and sees it’s empty, his father presumably talking to Keralis or someone important.
He can’t deal with this cold, lonely hut. Bdubs grabs his green jacket, turns around and heads straight back out. Maybe he’ll go to the coast. Or to the mountains. Clear his brain.
(It’s darker when he leaves, but he still doesn’t catch sight of the silhouette sweeping over him in the otherwise empty sky.)