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She watches in the dark as he calls out frantically, human fear and anger bouncing off the walls of basalt and ice.
“We need to head back for my dragon!”
He is worried for the dragon? So this other dragon rider might not be under Drago's sway, she thinks hopefully, but you still need to be cautious, she reminds herself. At a signal from her staff a Snafflefang steps toward the young man, and leans in trying to smell his scent, judging what sort of human he is. With a swift movement the dragon rider takes something from his leg which extends into a blade, there is a soft echoing click and flames run up the blade – what sort of weapon is this? The golden light glimmers in the blue ice and something metal – the dragon rider’s left foot. She prepares to leap forward and intervene, but is stopped by the sight of the dragon rider swirling the blade gently around to hold the Snafflefang’s attention. There is nothing aggressive in his stance, he is trying to calm the dragon, not attack it, she realises with surprise. What sort of Viking is this?
The Snafflefang backs away. Several other dragons sneak forward, more curious than anything else. She is curious as well, how could a person control fire like that? She lets the dragons get closer to the dragon rider, to see how he reacts. Instead of using the fire blade, he falls into a crouch and spins slowly as a cloud of what seems like Zippleback gas comes from the end of the blade’s hilt – what an odd contraption. Another soft click and the circle of gas bursts into a mini explosion. The dragons back away again, impressed. So is she. Maybe, just maybe, this person might be a future ally against Drago, if they share similar views. One dragon lets the dragon rider approach and she watches as the young man extends a hand towards its muzzle in a show of trust.
In that moment she knows she can trust him too. Dragons are the best judges of character after all. She makes a move, grabbing his attention from the dragon.
“Who are you? The Dragon Thief? Drago... Drago Bludvist?” His voice is uncertain and trembles ever so slightly, aware that at the moment she is the one in control. If he seemed to pose any threat, she could send her dragons after him with the tiniest of motions. Rather than respond she moves forward lithely, twisting her head side to side in order to get the full measure of the dragon rider before her.
“Do you even understand what I'm saying?” He sounds more frustrated now.
Ignoring this, with a wide swing of her staff she signals for the Night Fury to be brought over, if the young man cared as much as he seemed to then maybe she could trust him – no dragon trapper would show that much worry for a dragon. And by the way he asked about Drago she can tell that he at least doesn't work for him. In fact, she can tell he doesn't come from the northern groups of people, even though she doesn't talk or even see the locals of the far north more than once every few years she knows that any one of them could tell you what Drago looks like. This young man clearly knows nothing more than the name to be questioning if she is the warlord.
The Night Fury is dropped lightly on to the granite floor, sopping wet and shivering slightly.
“Toothless!”
His questioning forgotten, the rider rushes to the dragon's side and holds him close, brushing their foreheads briefly together. He checks him all over looking for any harm done and only calms down when he realises his dragon is nothing more than wet and a little bit frazzled. The dragon, Toothless it would seem (what an odd name), coos in relief, happily accepting the comforting scratches from his rider. “It’s okay. I'm glad to see you too, bud. You really had me worried there.”
Watching the two together reminds her of her bond with Cloudjumper, they seemed improbably close. Something she had thought she would never see another person feel towards a dragon. With another easy motion of her staff the dragons light their fires spreading a warm light into the icy blue gloom of the cavern. She moves forward, taking cautious steps mimicking those of the dragons. The Night Fury takes a defensive position in front of the boy, growling threateningly, clearly saying stay back! But with one simple gesture (helped by the small amount of dragon nip kept up her sleeve) the dragon slumps to the ground onto his back making an odd gurgling noise in apparent pleasure.
“Toothless?”, once again the dragon rider sounds uncertain, worried for his friend, clearly unnerved by how easily she incapacitated the Night Fury.
Ignoring his obvious fear she continues forward, step by cautious step, until she is right in front of the young man. He backs away, clearly uncomfortable, she notices how his hands shake slightly. She reaches out to touch his face, something is familiar about it... The eyes maybe; their colour a bright forest green imitating the pine needles of her old island home, and their shape, big as if trying to digest every possible detail of the world around him. That reminded her of two people. Two people who probably think she has been dead these past twenty years. The young man jerks away from her touch though. Those oddly familiar eyes wide in fear. That is when she sees it. A small scar, on the chin, that glints pale in the flickering light.
Surely not.
But all the facts are in front of her. The eyes, the nose, that wayward hair that is so akin to hers when she was younger, and most glaringly of all that scar. Right where Cloudjumper had accidentally scratched her son twenty years ago. She doesn't know what she expected her son to look like at twenty. He was such a small sickly baby that she had even wondered if he had made it through his first year. But standing before her, shifting awkwardly, is definitely her son. It's then that the realisation hits her full force and what was once the past comes crashing into the present. A past that she thought was supposed to be abandoned. Quite unexpectedly she is being thrown into a present that she thought would never happen.
“Hiccup?” Her voice is muffled and distorted by her helmet but he still hears her clearly enough.
His eyes widen in shock. He had not been expecting her to know his name. She lifts her helmet off and stares at him in shock.
“Could it be? After all these years? How is this possible?” Her murmuring only confuses him. He still hadn't realised.
“Err... Sh-should I know you?”
It feels like her heart has been torn out of her chest. He doesn’t know. Doesn't recognise her. To hear those words from her own son, her son, hers, is the worst feeling ever. Guilt washes over her, just like when, all those years ago, Cloudjumper had taken her away. For a minute all she can do is avert her gaze and try to stifle the tears that brim at her eyes. It is not his fault. He can't help not knowing who she is. That is her fault, hers alone. And nothing will change that, nothing will change the fact that she left her infant son and over the past twenty years she didn't make any effort to return, that he doesn't know what a mother's love is like. But maybe she could fix that part now.
“No you were only a babe... But a mother never forgets.”
Hiccup gasps, stammering a string of nonsensical letters. The breath shocked out of him. Valka puts her hand out in a calming gesture as she sees him struggle to get around the shock. His entire body is shaking. Toothless, now out of his daze, looks up at Hiccup and coos worriedly, nudging his right hand with his nose.
“Wh- H-how? I...”
“Shhh”, she attempts to calm him down. She looks into his astonished eyes in wonder. After all these years, spent in partial doubt over whether he was still alive, she is suddenly a mother again, she has another chance. Excitement bubbles up within her, momentarily pushing aside that horrible guilt, and he is just like her; believing in a peace between dragons and Vikings, sharing a bond with one. She could show him the Sanctuary!
“Come!”, she says, barely looking back to see if her son is following, Valka rushes off through the passage ways to the Sanctuary. Her thoughts racing as fast as a Speedstinger, and excitement coursing through her.