The dragon riders

Chapt 24

Stoicks pov

     We dashed up the hill's summit, eyes wide as a sea of ships lay before us, an overwhelming sight. Their army had already landed, a fierce tide charging relentlessly toward our shores. "Son of a-" Eret's words were cut short, urgency in his voice, "Code 7, Code 7, Code 7."
            He summoned his dragon with a sharp whistle, quickly commanding, "Gather the women, children, and the infirm. Swiftly, now!" His orders were barked as he whistled once more, dragon riders taking to the skies, their dragons breathing fire upon the oncoming ships.
            In a frantic rush, we hurried to round up everyone, herding them into the bunkers. But time we were to late. Our valiant soldiers fought tooth and nail against the relentless enemy, but it was futile.
           Their onslaught breached our defenses, capturing us, our wrists now bound by unyielding chains. It felt like a cruel echo of that initial battle, but this time we clung to the reassurance of our united efforts, embodied by Hiccup.
            Unyielding hands dragged me before their general, a figure exuding arrogance and disdain. "So, you're the legendary Stoick the Vast? How pitiful," his words dripped with mockery.
            "I stood my ground, radiating pride and unwavering bravery," he sneered while circling me. "Your courage is adorable, though it's etched in your very name, Stoick." Silence clung to the air as I stood resolute, a shield for my people's honor.
"Odd, you don't seem to tremble. Aren't you even a bit afraid? Afraid your tribe will crumble under Drago's might?" he taunted, his words laced with mockery. Unyielding, I met his gaze. "No," I responded, my voice steady.
A blade glinted, pressing coldly against my throat. His snarl betrayed his disappointment that tears weren't streaming from my eyes. "Why is that?" he growled, irritated by my unflinching demeanor.
With confidence, I answered, "We have the Dragon master on our side, He'll bring you to your knees." A malicious grin spread across his lips, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. "Boys, it seems we've hit the jackpot!" he bellowed with a triumphant laugh. He pivoted back toward me, eyes alight with greed. "The Berkians and their Dragon Master, what a captivating prize."
Baffled yet resolute, I maintained my silence. "Fetch the other captives from the ships, being them onto the island, we'll be here awhile" he commanded. His henchmen retrieved two prisoners: a young girl with snow-white hair and eyes red as monstrous nightmare scales, and a woman adorned in the regalia of a dragon rider.
"Today's riches grow ever greater. The Dragon Master, the Berkians, and the formidable 'Big Mama'—truly, this day surpasses expectations," the general proclaimed, a chorus of his soldiers echoing their jubilation.
.
.
.
         Trapped alongside Snoutlout, the other prisoners, Hiccup's children, Spitelout, and Gobber, we found ourselves captive within my own home, awaiting Hiccup's impending arrival. Outside the door, a guard stood watch, ensuring our escape remained impossible. Frustration etched in her voice of the woman prisoner, her efforts to break free from the stubborn chains proved futile.
"Calm down, lass,we'll be fine," Gobber's comforting voice interjected, attempting to soothe the tense atmosphere. The woman's retort was sharp, "And are we to simply sit here and twiddle our thumbs?"
As her struggle echoed in the chamber, a sudden disturbance arose from Hiccup's youngest Saga, stirring from her slumber. Her cries filled the room, threatening to pierce the stillness. Quick to react, the woman prisoner scooped the child into her arms, gently rocking her back towards dreams. A tender lullaby began to flow from her lips.
"Close your eyes, my little one," her voice wove a spell of comfort, "the stars above are shining bright. Dragons guard your dreams tonight, as you drift off in the night."
The enchanting words hung in the air, each note a brushstroke of reassurance across the canvas of our unease. The woman's serene voice painted a vivid picture of monstrous guardians watching over the child, their soothing roars becoming a lullaby of safety.
"In the embrace of this moonlit night, you'll sleep peacefully all night long," she sang, her voice cradling us in its embrace, weaving a cocoon of serenity. "So rest your head, my precious child, in this world so vast and wide. Know that I am by your side, forever here, right by your side."
Her song, a celestial tapestry woven with threads of care, cast a spell on us all. It was a melody both ethereal and strangely familiar, tugging at the edges of our memories like a long-lost dream. There was an undeniable magic in her voice, it sounded so heavenly.
As the soothing lullaby worked its magic, the baby girl surrendered to slumber within the woman's comforting embrace. Ruffnut's compliment broke the silence, "You have a beautiful voice." Tuffnut chimed in, his jest holding a hint of reverence, "Yeah, it's like the gods themselves gifted you that voice." She cradled the sleeping infant, she replied with a small "thank you".
Curiosity bubbled within the group, and Fishlegs couldn't hold back his query, "Why are you here?" Tuffnut's bluntness followed suit, "We know you're part of the dragon riders, but seriously, why are you being hunted?"
Her fingers danced delicately over Saga features as she answered, her voice carrying the weight of her role, "People call me Big Mama. I'm like a mother to all the dragon riders, appointed by Hiccup himself. My closeness to him makes me valuable."
A hint of skepticism lingered in the air, Spitelout's question cutting through, "So who are you really?" With an air of mystery, she responded, her tone firm, "My name is Big Mama, and that's all you'll know." Ruffnut's inquisitiveness shifted the focus, "And who's the little girl with you?" The woman's lap cradled a girl with the fairest skin and white, curly hair.
"She's my granddaughter," she revealed, as her fingers lovingly brushed through the child's hair. The question of her name hung in the air, and she answered softly, "Zephyr."
"Wait," Fishlegs interjected with a quizzical expression, "isn't Hiccup's daughter named Zephyr? Is this the same Zephyr?" His words hung in the air as anticipation brewed. The masked woman, tilted her head in a deliberate nod, her eyes revealing only a fraction of her secrets.
                Spitelout brows furrowed, the skepticism palpable. "She doesn't look like Hiccup," he retorted, a touch of doubt coloring his words. His voice carried a curious blend of incredulity and assertion. "Are you absolutely certain that she's his?"
               "She's adopted," the masked woman revealed with an air of quiet assurance, her words echoing in the room. A pause hung in the air, brimming with unspoken questions. Spitelout's reaction was laced with ignorance as he pressed on, "So she's not his 'real kid,' then?" The masked woman's response held a hint of patience, "She's his," she affirmed.
             Gently, yet assertively, I intervened, a warning lacing my words. "Spitelout..."
              His dismissive wave brushed away my caution, his skepticism unabated. "Yeah, but she isn't 'his' his, is she?" Spitelout's voice carried the weight of his doubts, an inquiry demanding clarity.
            The masked woman, steadfast in her conviction, met Spitelout's gaze unwaveringly. "Blood doesn't determine who she is. She is his daughter.," she replied, her words ringing with a quiet strength that resonated through the air.
              A spark of realization flickered within Spitelout's eyes, but his skepticism persisted, albeit softened. "I suppose, by that logic, these must be his children as well," he mused, His tone carried a hint of sarcasm. "After all, it's not all about blood?."
             A profound silence descended upon the room, like the calm before a storm. The masked woman's response was measured, her voice a fragile thread trying not to shatter, "They are now." It was as if the words held a weight that even she couldn't escape.
            "What do you mean, they are now?" I inquired, the itch of curiosity gnawing at me. Her response remained elusive, a silence that only heightened my intrigue. Her fingers danced nervously, caught in a contemplative dance, as if deciding whether to share her secret.
           Finally, her resolve solidified, and just as she was about to reveal her truth, the outside world erupted in chaos. A symphony of commotion echoed through the door, the sound of a struggle echoing in the hallway. Amidst the turmoil, a man's anguished cry pierced the air as he was unceremoniously expelled through a window.
          As the door swung open, all eyes turned towards it, hearts racing. A rescue, unexpected and timely, materialized before us. The figure that stepped in, a beacon of hope in the shadows, was Astrid. Yet, something was different about her.
          Her hair gleamed with a new radiance, woven into a lengthy side braid. Leather and blue-scaled armor adorned her form, exuding a fresh vibrancy.
          A rush of relief surged through the room, as if the gods themselves had answered our prayers. "Oh Thank Thor you're all okay," she breathed, her words a soothing balm in the midst of uncertainty.