Cursed One- How to Train Your Dragon Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-One- Incoming Ships

I buried my face into Ripjaw's scales, trying to avoid looking down into the churning ocean below. My brain felt oddly numb. I couldn't feel grief or disappointment... just shock.

It probably was about midday, though the sun remained hidden behind a layer of dark clouds. By now, all of Berk would know me truly.

I barely even noticed the snow storm settling over us, swollen, puffy flakes descending from the now overcast sky, until Ripjaw's voice rumbled in his throat, "We better land somewhere... The storm is getting worse."

I didn't respond.

The snowflakes grew fatter and rounder and fell harder. Ripjaw finally found the edge of an island to rest on, and he placed me gently in the grass. We sat in silence, watching snow drift lazily through the air. Once in a while, he would send me a glance and open his mouth like he was about to speak, but then he would sigh and turn away.

Eventually, he swallowed hard and said, "We should probably find shelter before the storm gets worse."

But I was no longer listening to him. Something in the distance had caught my eye. Something big. I squinted through the thick mist.

"Ripjaw..." I spoke, voice high with fear. "What is that?"

Ripjaw approached me and followed my eyes.

There, in the distance, was a huge ship. As it grew nearer, that one ship turned into two, then three, then suddenly, an entire armada was crawling through the white curtain of snow.

"It's the Gorum Tribe," Ripjaw replied.

I pursed my lips. They were heading towards Berk.

"No..." I moaned. "No... this is all my fault. We have to go warn them!" My eyes met Ripjaw's, and I could see the hesitance in his expression.

Before he had a chance to respond, I interrupted, my voice solemn and confident, "My mother would want us to."

Ripjaw gazed back into my eyes. Then, he nodded. "She would."

. . .

Ripjaw hit the ground with a thump and dropped me. I sprang to my feet and urgently commanded, "Go find Hiccup and the others. I'll look for Stoick." The dragon nodded and was gone in a flash.

I hurried to the village, dashing down the path and right to the center. "Where's Stoick?" I called out. "Can someone find Stoick? I need to talk to him now!"

But the vikings emerging from their homes never responded. They just stared and murmured to each other.

"Please!" I begged, "This is important!"

"You!"

I spun around, and my heart leaped into my throat at the sound of the familiar, scratchy voice. A grip closed over the collar of my shirt and yanked me off the ground. I found myself inches from Spitelout's face as he raked his eyes over me in disgust.

"You have some nerve coming back here," he growled.

"Listen to me," I gasped. "You're in danger. My father Skarde is on his way, and he has the entire Gorum Tribe with him-"

I yelped as Spitelout tossed me harshly to the ground.

"You see what I told you?" Spitelout raised his head to address the crowd growing around us. "The Cursed family only brings doom. And now, this rat has led chaos here!"

Whispering rippled throughout the village. I caught a glimpse of a woman protectively tucking her child behind her. My stomach twisted.

"Why did you come back?" Spitelout roared, towering above me. His foot collided with my stomach, knocking the wind right out of me.