Chapter Text
It was a beautiful fall day on Dragon’s Edge, and everyone was taking advantage of it. They had opened up the dome and were practicing their battle moves, aim and other skills. Heather sat off to the side, as her ankle had not quite healed yet. She was offering them all some friendly advice, but was enjoying being able to call out their mistakes without having to do the maneuver herself.
“Snotlout, if you don’t step your game up Catia is going to chop your head off!” she hollered, smiling mischievously at the annoyed glare her shot her.
“Do it!” Tuffnut shouted. “Chop his head off!”
“No!” Astrid shouted quickly, horrified. “I mean, I don’t care if you do, but don’t.” She did not want to see any more decapitations.
“Are you sure you don’t care?” Snotlout asked, pausing to give her a sleazy glance. “Seems to me like you do.”
Catia grabbed his shirt and brought her blade up to his neck. Snotlout dropped his sword and froze. “I win,” she announced smugly.
“Really, Astrid?” Snotlout grumbled, glaring at her. “You just had to distract me! I could’ve been killed!” He stomped off muttering about how he would impress Astrid and that it wasn’t a fair fight.
“Who’s next?” Catia challenged, eager to claim another victory.
“I nominate Fishface,” Snotlout yelled, obviously hoping to embarrass him in front of Heather. Fishlegs looked horrified.
“I’ve already fought him,” Catia said, knowing how Fishlegs hated battle. There was no need to embarrass him. “Now, Dagur, on the other hand...”
“Oooh, a challenge!” Dagur laughed, sounding more deranged than ever, grabbing a sword and running into the ring. “I like a good challenge!”
Dagur may have given up his evil ways, but his love for a good fight and competition would likely never leave. He and Heather both had quick tempers, and were easily lost over the littlest thing regarding each other, but were just as easily forgotten within a matter of hours.
“Ready to lose?” Catia asked him smartly, her eyes dancing with excitement.
“Only if you’re ready to eat your words.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Tuffnut began in his announcer voice, as he climbed up on Belch’s head so he could overlook the fight. “We now will witness the fight of the century, between the great Dagur the Deadly and Catia the Catastrophe! Please be warned, this could get ugly!” He paused to call his chicken over. “You shouldn’t watch this, chicken.” Chicken clucked and cocked her head. “Let the fight begin!”
“Wait!”
Everyone stopped, turning to look at Hiccup who was walking onto the scene with a slip of paper in his hand and a Terrible Terror crawling around on his shoulders. “I just got news from Berk.”
“Is it another attack?” Tuffnut asked urgently, dropping his ridiculous voice. “Is it Dagur?”
“I’m standing right here,” Dagur said flatly, almost rolling his eyes. “How could I have attacked Berk?”
“Oh, yeah. Everyone, do not worry.” His announcer voice was back. “It is not an attack from Dagur.”
Hiccup ignored him and went on. “It’s not an attack from anyone. Apparently there’s a sickness going around, and they want our help.”
“There is a sickness on Berk!” Tuffnut proclaimed loudly. “We must help!”
“What kind of sickness?” Catia asked, closing the blades on her arm guards.
“They aren’t sure,” Hiccup replied, skimming over the note again.
“It is an unknown sickness!” Tuffnut hollered. “But it is deadly! Deadly like a Deadly Nadder, or Dagur the Deadly or death or Deathcrasher or crashing or crushing or Skullcrusher or skulls or skills-”
“That’s good Tuffnut,” Hiccup said, trying to stop the nonsense.
“Or mills or milk or milking yaks or muddy yaks or mud fights-”
“You can stop now, Tuff.”
“Or fighting or biting or writing or running or sunning or sitting or fitting-”
“Just let him finish,” Astrid sighed, “He’ll run out of words eventually.”
“Or fishing or dishing or dicing or miceing or mining or shining or shrinking or drinking or dunking or… what rhymes with dunking?”
“Nothing,” Hiccup said, even though he had several words in mind. “Anyway, my dad wants our help. Who is staying to guard Dragon’s Edge?”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Heather sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Unless Catia will reconsider-”
“No.” Catia didn’t even bother letting her finish.
“Well,” Snotlout started, draping his arm around Heather’s shoulders. “I will sacrifice and stay with you.”
Heather rolled her eyes and twisted his arm around backward. Hollowing in pain, Snotlout wrenched out of her grasp. “On second thought, I’ll go.”
“I should probably stay, “Dagur said, “I doubt I’ll be a welcome sight.”
“Agreed,” Hiccup said with a sigh. “We’ll have to work on that.”
“I’m not exactly your dad’s favorite person,” Catia put in sheepishly. “I’d rather stay.”
“Believe it or not, he actually asked for you to come. Says you might be able to help since the majority of our healers are sick.”
Catia held her hand out for the note, surprised by what she read. “Well, then. I should probably bring a few things.” She left muttering something in disbelief. It was likely in Greek, which she often lapsed into when she was surprised or angry. Or swearing. She only swore in Greek.
Everyone but Dagur and Heather decided to go, and soon they were headed back to Berk, though no one was excited about the long flight, especially since Ruffnut and Tuffnut had decided that they would sing the entire way.
Everyone was ready to kill the twins by the time the made it inside the archipelago, but as Berkian waters came into view, the singing stopped. Realizing they had lost their voices, Ruffnut and Tuffnut crossed their arms and frowned for the rest of the trip.
. . .
The Dragon Riders landed on Berk, surprised by how few people could be seen. The markets were abandoned, the streets were empty, and there was hardly a sound from anywhere.
“This is Berk?” Catia asked, glancing around skeptically.
“Not the normal Berk,” Astrid replied, looking almost as confused. “This is very rare.”
“Where is everyone?” Hiccup asked, scanning the area.
“Inside,” someone said behind them. Stoick walked up, Skullcrusher behind him. “We couldn’t identify the sickness, so I ordered everyone to stay in their homes. Is Catia with you?”
“Yes,” Catia answered, stepping forward. “Where did the sickness start?”
Obviously liking the fact that Catia was ready to get down to business, Stoick motioned for the group to follow. “We aren’t completely sure. It hit a few families at first, but the closest I could pinpoint it too would be…Magnus’ father and the Larson kid.”
“Gustav?” Hiccup offered.
“Ah yes, the troublemaker.”
“Which Magnus are we talking about?” Hiccup went on. “Bald Magnus or the girl Gobber named Magnus?”
“The girl. I believe she goes by Maggie. She’s sick now, too. Her whole family is.”
“What are the symptoms?” Catia asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation on a serious topic.
“Strange ones I must say,” Stoick answered, “It starts out like Eel Pox—a fever and coughing. Gothi prepared the cure for that, but it didn’t work at all. By then, those who were ill were coughing up blood and could hardly stand. I don’t know what it is. Snotlout, Fishlegs your parents are sick as well.”
Without hesitation, both ran home to their families.
Stoick halted in front of a hut, opened the door and motioned for the remaining riders to enter. Ruffnut and Tuffnut refused, claiming they didn’t want to get sick. Astrid and Hiccup rolled their eyes and followed after Catia.
The room was dark, as there was no fire burning, and the only sound was muffled coughing coming from another room. Catia waited for direction from the chief, but Stoick never had the chance.
“Hi Astwid,” a young feminine voice said from the doorway of a nearby room. Astrid glanced over, finding Maggie peaking around the corner. Maggie loved Astrid. She had offered to watch the little girl on one occasion, and Maggie wanted everything to do with Astrid since then.
“Hi Maggie,” Astrid smiled, noticing quickly that Maggie was not herself. She was missing her rosy cheeks and dancing eyes. Her chocolate brown curls were lacking their natural shine. No matter what Gobber had said, she had turned into an adorable child, though now she looked quite pitiful.
“Maggie, get back in bed,” her mother appeared behind her, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and stifling a cough. “Oh, hello Stoick.”
“Lindi, I brought a healer,” Stoick replied. “She can help.”
Lindi nodded, coughing harder and leaning on the wall for support. She pitched forward and caught herself on a chair, lowering herself into it. Astrid picked up Maggie and walked her back to her room, Catia and Hiccup following behind them closely.
Catia set her satchel bag down on the table as Astrid put Maggie back into her bed, covering her up with a pink blanket.
“Hello Maggie,” Catia smiled, sitting down on the bed across from the little girl. “My name is Catia.’
“Hi Tatia,” Maggie replied, without the slightest bit of enthusiasm. She was clearly exhausted.
Catia laughed. “It’s Catia, but I like Tatia too. It’s pretty, don’t you think?”
Maggie finally smiled, and nodded, but started to cough again. “I don’t feel good,” she moaned sadly.
“I know,” Catia nodded comfortingly. “But I think I might now how to make you feel better. I will need your help, though. Do you think you can do that?”
Maggie nodded again, smiling proudly.
“Okay, first we’re going to play a game.” Catia held up both index fingers, placing her right one on Maggie’s nose. “I want you to see if you can look this finger without moving your head at all.” Catia moved her left index finger to the left of Maggie’s face. “Can you see it?”
“Yes.”
Catia continued moving her finger around, noting how Maggie could not stare her finger without her bloodshot eyes flickering and jumping around. She pulled out a small object from her bag, no bigger than a pencil and held it up. “Now stick your tongue out,” Catia told her, smiling.
Maggie giggled and obeyed.
Catia pressed a tiny button on the end of the object, and a drop of blue juice squeezed out. “What does it taste like?” she asked.
“Bwuebewwies,” she said, licking her chapped lips. “That was yummy.”
“Good!” Now stick your tongue out again.”
Maggie did so, showing off her blue tongue with a hint of black around the edges. “Very nice. Now, close your eyes, and hold out your hands flat. I’m going to touch them, and you tell me if I’m touching them on the top or bottom.”
She tapped the tops of Maggie’s hands.
“Top.”
She tapped the bottom side.
“Bottom.”
She gently brushed the side of her fingers on the top of Maggie’s hands.
“Did you do it yet?”
“Yep.”
“I didn’t feel it.”
“Take a guess then.”
“Top?”
“Good job!” Catia praised. “You can open your eyes now. I need to go check on your daddy, so you get some sleep, okay?”
“Otay. Bye, Tatia.”
Catia smiled at the little girl, but as she turned around, her smile faded and she grimly walked out of the room.
Catia did a similar examination of Lindi and her husband, her grim expression never leaving. She instructed the family to rest and asked to see Gustav. Astrid didn’t want to go anywhere near Gustav, so she left to check in with her parents. Stoick led the way the way, and introduced Catia to Mrs. Larson. She smiled her thanks and led Catia and Hiccup to Gustav’s room.
Hiccup had never seen Gustav so still. Or quiet, for that matter. His cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes were closed, and he appeared to be asleep. Fanghook was curled up in a ball at the foot of his bed, warily eyeing the newcomers.
“How long has he been sick?” Catia asked, looking him over.
“Since last Monday,” Mrs. Larson replied. “But it was strange I must say. I can normally tell when he isn’t feeling good, but one morning he woke up with a fever and it hasn’t broken since. Came out of nowhere.”
“Oh, it came from somewhere,” Catia replied dourly. “Would you wake him up please?”
Gustav’s mother sat down beside him shook him gently, stirring him just enough to rouse him. “Gustav,” she started, “There is a healer here to see you. Wake up.”
Gustav finally opened his eyes and glanced around, offering a halfhearted smile to Hiccup.
Catia sat down beside Gustav, pulling out the little juice filled vial. “Tongue out,” she told him somewhat shortly. She clicked the end and dropped a blue dot on his tongue, watching it until the liquid turned black. She examined his eyes the same was she had done for Maggie and her family, and finally checked how much he could feel.
She thanked Gustav and his mother and left. Giving a discouraged sigh, she walked out of the house shaking her head.
“What is it?” Stoick pressed. “Can you diagnose it?”
Catia nodded. “I know it all too well. This is the early stages, but I would know this anywhere.”
“What is it?” Stoick repeated desperately.
Catia motioned for him to come closer. “The Scourge of Odin,” she whispered hesitantly.