Chapter 7
“Watch your left, you're leaving your whole side open.”
Hiccup bunted the blunt side of his sword against Ellie’s exposed ribs. She let out a frustrated groan at the not-so-gentle tap, staggering slightly before resetting her stance. Strands of her braided hair clung to her sweaty forehead and neck as she barely managed to block his next strike.
She stepped back, adjusting her footing before charging at him again, her sword swinging upward in a determined arc. Hiccup easily parried the blow, the clash of steel ringing through the air. Gritting her teeth, Ellie slid her blade against his, stepping away just in time to dodge his counterattack aimed at her leg. She retaliated with a powerful swing to his right, putting all her strength into the strike.
Too much strength.
Hiccup sidestepped smoothly, letting the momentum of her swing pull her forward before nudging her off balance. She hit the ground with a thud, sand and dirt sticking to her sweat-dampened skin.
“You swung too hard,” he said, not unkindly. “Don’t let your anger control your sword until you know you're better than your opponent.”
Ellie scowled, brushing grit off her face before pushing herself back up. She inhaled deeply, trying to center herself as he had taught her. This time, she didn't attack first.
She caught the flicker of amusement in his eyes before he advanced, fainting right before swiftly switching his sword to his other hand, slashing toward her left side. Ellie barely blocked in time, her arms shaking with the effort to hold steady against his strike.
He grinned down at her and stepped back. “Better. You've improved a lot, Ellie. I’m proud. Soon you’ll be better than me.”
She snorted, rolling her eyes as she ignored the warmth creeping up her neck at his praise.
Sliding her sword back into its sheath, she glanced down at her disheveled form, her sleeveless tunic, now damp and clinging to her, was streaked with dirt. The loose-fitting pants she wore were stained at the knees from repeated falls, and her boots were caked in sand.
With a sigh, she walked toward the log where Hiccup had already settled. He handed her the waterskin as she sat beside him, taking a long drink before looking out at the small island they had claimed as their temporary refuge.
The salty sea breeze cooled her sweat-dampened skin as she gazed across the water. If she squinted, she could just make out the Red Keep and the sprawl of King’s Landing in the distance. A few ships drifted along the Blackwater Rush, likely heading toward Essos.
A sudden screech pulled her attention back to the other resident of the island.
Toothless swooped down, landing in front of Hiccup with a gust of wind that sent sand scattering in every direction. The dragon wiggled closer, nudging his head under Hiccup’s hand with a pleased rumble.
Ellie huffed a small laugh as Hiccup scratched Toothless’s scales, the dragon leaning into the touch like a spoiled cat.
She had, mostly, gotten used to Toothless. She’d screamed for a solid five minutes the first time Hiccup placed her on the dragon’s saddle and they took off. She might have even thrown up when they landed. It had taken two more trips into the city on dragonback for her terror to give way to exhilaration. Now, when the dragon dipped and soared over the water, she found herself grinning instead of gripping the saddle in fear.
“So, we have our plan.” Hiccup’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He motioned to the large map spread out before them, multiple parchments stitched together, his own world, Westeros, and a detailed layout of King’s Landing. “There’s a storm rolling in. It’ll give us enough cover to sneak into the city with Toothless tonight.”
Ellie leaned closer, running her fingers over the map. “You said the Dragonpit is here?” She tapped the marked location before glancing up. “We’ll have to leave our packs here on the island.”
Hiccup hummed in agreement, rolling his shoulders as he looked out toward the sea. The island was small, barely enough space for Toothless, let alone any more dragons. “Will they follow us?” Ellie asked, tilting her head at him.
A grin spread across Hiccup’s face as he turned back toward her. “Oh, they will.”
She rolled her eyes at his theatrics but smirked nonetheless. “Where will we go after? Even if we get them out, there’s no way more than three grown dragons could stay here.” She glanced around the camp. They had settled in the center of the island, with Toothless claiming the rocky outcrop along the shoreline as his nesting ground.
Hiccup exhaled, his fingers tapping absently against the hilt of his blade. “The king mentioned Valyria.” His eyes flickered toward her. “Do you know what that is?”
Ellie frowned, searching her memory. “Valyria is in Essos. It used to be the home of dragons and their riders, but the Doom wiped most of them out. The Targaryens were the only ones to escape with their dragons before they conquered Westeros.”
She ran a finger over the map, dragging it from King’s Landing toward the distant ruins. “There aren’t many books on Valyria anymore. The Targaryens hoard most of them, but I think the Citadel in Oldtown has a few scrolls.” She pointed to the city on the map. “There. You might find something useful there.”
Hiccup leaned over, tracing his fingers over Oldtown and the mountains bordering Dorne. She could see the gears turning in his head as he worked through his thoughts.
She hesitated before speaking again. “My mother used to say there were still treasures hidden deep within Valyria. Protected by magic.” She let the word hang in the air, watching his reaction.
His head snapped up. “Magic?”
Ellie studied his face. There was something deeper behind that question, something desperate. She had seen it in the throne room, in the way his breath had come too fast, the way his hands had trembled even as he guided her out. He was holding onto hope by the thinnest of threads.
“Yes,” she said carefully. “Magic. Most of it is lost, but…”
“…but there might still be something in there that could help,” Hiccup finished for her, his voice quiet but determined.
Ellie nodded, picking absently at a scab on her arm from training. “So what’s the plan, then?”
Hiccup exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the map before folding it up. “First, we save the dragons. Then, we head to Oldtown. If there’s nothing there, we go to Valyria.”
He traced his fingers over the three locations one last time before tucking the map into his pack. Then, with a decisive nod, he stood. “Alright, let’s get everything ready so we can leave quickly when we get back.”
They spent the next hour packing, securing their supplies under a small awning nestled between large stones to protect them from the storm. Ellie made sure her sword was strapped tightly to her leg, while Hiccup checked his armor, securing weapons and other tools to his body.
By the time she walked over, he was fiddling with a strange mechanism on his back. She watched him with curiosity, but before she could ask, he glanced up at her with a soft smile.
He reminded her of Tom sometimes. Not in the way he talked, or looked, or moved, but in the way he made her feel safe. She hated it. She needed to remember, Tom was gone. And Hiccup? Hiccup was just passing through
She hesitated. “W-What if something happens?”
The childish fear crept up, unwelcome and suffocating. She wanted to trust him. But her life had never been kind.
Hiccup’s expression didn’t change. He studied her for a moment, then sighed and turned toward Toothless, tightening the last strap on the saddle.
“Before we rode dragons, my people killed them.”
Ellie’s breath hitched in shock. Humans, killing dragons? She turned to Toothless, unable to imagine something like him being hunted.
“My father was the chief of our tribe,” Hiccup continued, his voice distant. “When our food stores ran low, when dragons raided our livestock, he was the one who led the hunts. I remember sleeping in his bed the night before a dangerous hunt, hoping he wouldn’t go.” His fingers curled over Toothless’s saddle. “‘Being a chief,’ he once told me, ‘isn’t about ruling over people or land. It’s about protecting those under your care—no matter the danger to yourself.’”
He turned to her, resting a firm hand on her shoulder, his green eyes meeting hers with quiet intensity.
“When the time comes, I hope you’ll understand what that means.” His voice was steady. “Whether it’s risking yourself for others or leading people with honor, whatever path you take—do it for those who depend on you.”
Ellie swallowed, nodding despite herself.
Then he messed up her hair.
Ellie hissed, batting his hand away as he laughed, the sound light despite the tension in the air. She quickly combed her fingers through the strands, trying to fix it before giving up with a frustrated huff.
She watched as he tilted his head to the sky, lips moving in a quiet prayer. It was quick, almost subconscious, like something he did out of habit rather than faith. The moment passed as he pulled his helmet over his head, fastening it into place before climbing onto Toothless with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times.
Ellie took a deep breath, slipped on her own helmet, and reached for his outstretched hand.
He pulled her up behind him without effort, her fingers tightening around his arm before she slid into place. The moment Toothless took off, a thrill sparked in her chest, familiar and exhilarating. She wrapped her arms around Hiccup’s waist, bracing herself as they shot into the sky, wind howling past them.
The clouds above loomed dark and heavy, thick with the storm rolling in from the east. The temperature dropped as they ascended, the icy rain stinging against the exposed parts of her armor. Then, without warning, Toothless banked upward in a sharp climb. Ellie gasped, the sudden shift making her stomach lurch. If she hadn’t been holding on so tightly, she would’ve slid right off into the endless blue below.
They broke through the storm clouds moments later.
Ellie sucked in a breath.
The world stretched out beneath her, the storm churning below while the sky above remained open and endless. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the clouds, illuminating their soft, rolling forms like a vast sea of mist. It was beautiful, terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
This. This was the best part of flying.
She skimmed her fingers through the cold vapor as Toothless glided effortlessly above the storm, making lazy swoops and dives before evening out again.
Below them, the city stretched out in a mess of lights and winding streets.
“There.”
Hiccup’s voice cut through the rushing wind, his gloved hand pointing at a small break in the clouds. Ellie followed his gaze and spotted it, a clear opening that revealed the massive dome of the Dragonpit below.
“Remember,” he continued, leaning slightly forward, “once you see the flame in the south window, bring Toothless down.”
She nodded, squeezing his arm in silent confirmation.
Then, without warning, he moved.
Ellie barely had time to process it before he scooted forward, crouched, and—
“W-Wait—Hiccup, what are you—”
He leaned to the side and fell.
Ellie let out a sharp scream, instinctively reaching for him as he plummeted through the air.
She could hear Toothless emit a startled trill beneath her as she struggled to process what just happened. Heart hammering, she yanked at the handles near the dragon’s head, ready to dive after him—
Then she saw it.
Hiccup extended his arms mid-fall, and with them, a pair of sleek black wings snapped open, catching the wind and slowing his descent. The wings reminded her of Toothless, dark and curved, seamlessly blending into the night sky.
Ellie exhaled a shaky breath, chest still tight as she watched him maneuver through the air with practiced control. She had to squint to see the moment he landed near one of the high windows on the Dragonpit’s rooftop, slipping inside unnoticed.
Still gripping the handles tightly, Ellie sagged forward, pressing her forehead against Toothless’s saddle.
“Oh gods,” she muttered.
A low grumble from the dragon beneath her made her chuckle despite herself. Her hands were still clammy, her pulse still erratic, but the panic slowly faded into something close to amusement.
She leaned over the saddle, eyes locked onto the dome as Toothless circled high above the city.
Now her watch began.
Helaena sat beside Dreamfyre, running her fingers along the dragon's crown of horns. The heavy collar that once chained her beautiful dragon to the cave floor lay discarded off to the side, its presence no longer looming over them. Earlier, she had dismissed the Dragonkeepers, shooing them away when they lingered too close to the entrance. Now, she waited alone.
She had been coming to the Dragonpit more often in recent weeks, seeking comfort in Dreamfyre’s presence. Ever since she overheard her mother discussing a marriage between her and Aegon with the king, a restless unease had settled within her.
She wouldn’t have normally come with an impending storm on the horizon, but her dreams had led her here today.
A small spider crawled between her fingers, spinning a delicate web between her ring and pointer finger. She watched it idly, barely noticing the distant claps of thunder that masked the usual murmurs of the tunnels. Then, movement in the dim light of the cave’s entrance caught her attention.
They're here.
She stood abruptly, startling Dreamfyre as she moved toward the far side of the cave, pressing herself into the shadows. She barely breathed as she watched the entrance, where a dark figure appeared, silhouetted against the flickering torchlight. The figure carried a sword wreathed in red and yellow flame, the same one she had seen in her dreams.
Dreamfyre reared her head at the intruder, her growl reverberating through the cavern. Her wings flared, shielding Helaena behind their vast span. A faint glow built in the dragon’s throat as fire pooled in her belly, ready to be unleashed.
But the figure did not cower.
Instead, he tightened his grip on his sword and slowly swung it in controlled arcs before her dragon.
Helaena watched in disbelief as Dreamfyre hesitated, her growl tapering off as her eyes followed the slow, mesmerizing movement of the blade. The figure’s motions remained steady, deliberate, coaxing rather than commanding. Dreamfyre swayed slightly, her aggression melting into curiosity. The tension in her muscles eased.
The man gradually lowered his sword to his side, then extended his other hand—palm open, unthreatening.
Helaena held her breath.
Dreamfyre sniffed at the hand, recoiling for a brief moment before hesitantly pressing her snout into the offered touch.
"It's okay," the words drifted softly through the cavern, the low whisper echoing against the stone walls.
Helaena watched as the figure moved closer to Dreamfyre, their hands running gently over the ridges of the dragon’s spiked head. From where she stood, partially obscured by Dreamfyre’s massive form, she couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. Curiosity pulled her forward, and she stretched onto the tips of her toes to get a better look.
Her breath caught.
Dreamfyre, her proud and temperamental dragon, lowered herself to the ground, her massive body relaxing in a way Helaena had never seen before. The tension in her wings melted as she stretched out, tail flicking lazily, her golden eyes half-lidded in contentment.
Then, to Helaena’s utter disbelief, Dreamfyre purred.
Helaena barely had time to register what happened before her eyes snapped upward, locking onto the figure’s.
Bright green eyes pierced the dim glow of the cave.
She had seen those eyes before, in the depths of her dreams. But here, they were real, sharp and assessing, framed by the imposing darkness of his armor. His helmet obscured most of his face, but his posture was unmistakable: confident, commanding.
His leg, once thought a weakness, did not hinder him. He stood as tall and steady as any warrior, sword at his side, gaze fixed on her.
"Who are you?" His voice was low, rough, carrying a distinct northern lilt that she knew was false—he was not of the North.
Helaena hesitated. Her fingers twitched as she fought the impulse to withdraw. Her dreams had always been fragments of what could be, never solid truths. When she tried to act upon them as a child, the outcome would twist into something unfamiliar, something worse. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her.
He must have sensed her hesitation.
His grip on his sword loosened, and with his free hand, he pulled his helmet off.
"Hey," he said gently, his tone softer now. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Hiccup."
The name sent a shiver down her spine. She had known it before he spoke it.
The dim firelight cast shadows across his freckled face. Auburn hair, partially braided, framed sharp features. His jaw, dusted with stubble, twitched slightly as he offered her a crooked, reassuring smile. His eyes, wide and watchful, were the brightest green she had ever seen.
His warmth calmed her enough to respond. "I’m Helaena," she whispered, voice barely audible.
She risked a glance at Dreamfyre, who remained stretched out on the cave floor, utterly content. Her dragon had never been this at ease with anyone but her.
"What did you do to my dragon?" she asked, cautious but undeniably curious.
Hiccup blinked, glancing between her and Dreamfyre as though realizing the peculiarity of the situation. He muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like Targaryen, before refocusing on her. "A neat little trick," he said, stepping away from Dreamfyre’s side. "All dragons seem to enjoy a scratch in the spots they can’t reach… Princess."
Helaena’s fingers twitched at the title but she said nothing.
Hiccup, seemingly unconcerned with her silence, began inspecting the cave. He ran his hands along the deep claw marks etched into the walls, evidence of years spent in captivity.
"Why are you here?" she finally asked.
She had seen him before, had glimpsed him in her dreams for months, yet she had never known the purpose of their meeting. The future was fluid, uncertain, never fully in her grasp.
"Because of this," he said, voice hardening.
She followed his gaze and stiffened.
He had crouched beside the discarded collar, his expression darkening as he picked up the heavy chain attached to it. His fingers traced the deep grooves where it had bitten into Dreamfyre’s scales.
"You can’t take them," she murmured.
His head snapped toward her, eyes blazing. She flinched at the intensity of his expression.
"They won’t let you take them," she continued, glancing at Dreamfyre, who was now watching them both with quiet attentiveness. "Some will follow you—the new bonds—but you can’t break the old ones… nor can the Night Fury."
The words left her lips unbidden, sending a sharp ache through her skull. She barely understood them herself.
Night Fury?
Her gaze drifted, unfocused, as something heavy pressed against her mind. A dull throb pulsed behind her eyes.
When she blinked, he was suddenly in front of her.
She inhaled sharply, tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze.
"How do you know that?" he asked, his voice rough with urgency. His grip was firm but not painful, his fingers wrapped around her forearm, grounding her in the present. Fear and something deeper—hope, perhaps—shone in his eyes.
Helaena swallowed, dropping her gaze. "I don’t know," she admitted. "Fire and ash… that’s where you’ll find what you seek."
His grip loosened, his expression shifting into something unreadable.
Before he could respond, a distant clatter echoed through the tunnels. The sound of approaching voices, Dragonkeepers returning.
Hiccup exhaled sharply and pulled his helmet back on, snapping the visor open just enough to leave his face exposed. He turned back to Dreamfyre, resting a hand against her snout.
Helaena watched, stunned, as her dragon let out a sorrowful rumble, leaning into his touch. Hiccup murmured something, words she couldn't hear, before pressing his forehead against her scales.
Then, he straightened.
"Will you show me the unclaimed?" he asked quietly.
Helaena hesitated. She could hear the Dragonkeepers moving closer, voices carrying through the tunnels.
She turned back to Dreamfyre, focusing on the iridescent blue scales illuminated by the glow of his sword. Her vision blurred for just a moment, flashes of ice, of wings, of something vast and unknown.
Then, she nodded.
Grasping his hand, she led him through the tunnels.
They passed the occupied caverns, each dragon stirring as they passed. Little Arrax lifted his head. Sunfyre’s golden scales gleamed in the dim firelight.
Hiccup slowed at each one, eyes lingering, but she pulled him forward.
Finally, they reached a small chamber, warm and humid. Black pots rested above smoldering embers.
Hiccup moved forward cautiously, releasing her hand. He lifted one of the lids and froze.
He set the lid down with a sharp thud, his shoulders stiffening.
Helaena watched as he reached inside, cradling something carefully in his hands.
A dragon egg.
His grip tightened. "Why aren’t they with their mother?"
His voice was low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable edge of anger beneath it.
Helaena swallowed. "It is the way it has always been."
His expression darkened, but he said nothing more. Instead, he began packing the eggs. Then, he turned to her. "Will you take me to the south side of the dome?"
Helaena only nods, stepping lightly as she leads him down the winding tunnels toward the ground floor of the pit. The storm rages outside, its distant rumble growing louder with each step they take. The flickering torches along the walls cast long, twisting shadows that seem to dance with the wind seeping in through unseen cracks in the stone.
By the time they reach the floor of the pit, the storm’s presence is undeniable, the howling wind pushes through the high archways, bringing with it the scent of rain and the distant crash of waves against the cliffs. She moves carefully, ensuring they remain unnoticed, before guiding him toward one of the large windows overlooking the city.
He moves swiftly, with practiced ease, leaping onto the windowsill and undoing the latch. The moment he swings it open, the rain lashes against the stone, the gust nearly extinguishing the flame of his sword as it hisses against the cold air. He raises the blade and waves it in a slow, deliberate motion, the firelight flickering wildly in the darkness.
Then, he turns back to her. Through the glow of the storm-lit chamber, he offers her a small, thankful smile. “Thank you.”
A high-pitched screech cuts through the rolling thunder, distant but unmistakable.
Helaena watches as his expression hardens with focus. She gives him a small smile in return, dipping her chin in acknowledgment. He flips the visor of his helmet down, the metal clicking into place as he grips the edge of the window.
A powerful gust of wind sweeps through the pit just as a flash of lightning streaks across the sky. The brightness sears her vision, leaving dark spots in her sight.
When she blinks the afterimage away and turns back to him—
He’s gone.