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It’s Mala’s first year as queen, and while she may feel that she is prepared, as she has spent her entire life preparing for this, she will admit alone that she is still… nervous at times. She was also very much not expecting to find someone stealing food from their tribe, on the first winter.
It doesn’t make sense – there’s no one from their island who would do that. If anyone needs food, they can eat communally as many do. So this can only mean one thing… that someone else is on their island who should not be. How anyone could have gotten onto their island when they have constant security for that kind of thing, thanks to the occasional dragon hunters that sometimes come snooping around, she has no idea. But this is something she needs to
But Mala is not expecting for her to be the one to catch the thief herself. It’s the middle of the night when she hears the quietest sound. She’s only awake because she’s been checking on guard patrols throughout the night, even if Throk insisted it was unnecessary, but she’s down the stairs instantly, weapon drawn.
She sees the blur of motion, as the figure in question tries to go for the window. She fires a dart at him and he ducks out of the way but she’s already flipping across the room, swiping his legs out from under him.
The person lets out a yelp that sounds almost… child-like as he goes down, with not even the slightest bit of fight. She genuinely expected more.
Mala’s already drawn her sword, braced for something far more dangerous, by the time she actually really gets a look at the boy on the ground in front of her. Or at least… she thinks it’s a boy.
He has wings. It’s not from a tiny hatchling on his back like the Wingmaidens do; he actually literally has brown feathered wings.
In the torch light flickering on the walls, she can see his face. He looks… maybe fifteen? She’d almost think younger from how small and skinny he looks, but mostly, she’s just fixated on the wings.
They look… like they would feel nice to touch. Not that she has any intention of doing so without permission, obviously. That would be impolite. So, she has no idea why that is her first thought.
“What are you?” Mala asks, weapon slowly lowering.
The boy makes this panicked little sound and tries to get up and go for the window again, wings flapping.
She scrambles to block his way, even if the wings mean dragon and that means – she still needs to know what he is doing here, but she will not harm him. Not if he is one of the dragons.
“I won’t harm you,” she promises, setting her sword down and lifting her hands, in the hopes it will do something to calm him.
The boy wavers, looking at her warily.
“You have been taking food,” she continues, keeping a distance even if she’s tempted to step closer, “I assume you are hungry?”
There’s a hesitation, and then the boy nods just slightly.
“If you want to eat, you can stay here to do so.” She gestures to the table.
He hesitates again, tense and jittery, like he’s been hurt. He’s part-dragon and part-human. Of course he must have been hurt simply for that and it makes Mala so angry to see the signs.
“You’d… let me do that?” he asks, tentatively.
“Of course,” she promises.
“Why?” he asks again, no less wary.
“You are in need of help,” Mala replies, eyeing him, “And your wings… I have never seen anything like it.”
The effect of their mere mention is immediate, with the way his wings curl around him, mostly hidden behind his back like he’s trying to conceal them. “Yeah, no one has,” he mutters, turning his head away, like it’s something shameful.
But that is likely what he has been told, isn’t it?
“I did not mean that as an insult,” she replies, taking a slow step forwards, “For the dragons to have gifted a human with something of them, you… must be truly special.”
The boy freezes, head lifting to look at her face. “You – you care about dragons?” he asks, baffled.
“Of course. Do you not know what island you are on?”
“I – ” he looks away again, fidgeting, wings fluttering like he’s nervous, “No. I don’t. I’m new to the area.”
Add that to the list of questions she has for him.
“We are the Defenders of the Wing,” Mala replies, “Dragons are sacred and here, we respect them as such.”
She… actually has no idea what having wings makes this boy. Is he a dragon, too?
“I – I didn’t know anyone saw dragons like that,” the boy says, blinking at her.
“I imagine in the rest of the world, there would be few who would know that,” she acknowledges. “What is your name?”
A slight hesitation. “Hiccup,” he answers, finally.
That… name does not surprise her, considering what she’s heard of how other Viking tribes treat “runts”. And with the boy’s scrawny size and probably because of his wings, he would definitely classify as such. “Are you a lycanwing?” Mala inquires, “I was unaware they were more than legends.”
“I – I don’t know what I am,” Hiccup answers, slowly, almost like he’s not used to speaking Norse, which is unusual, “I just – I was born like this. Everyone always….” He trails off, wings wrapping around himself again.
“You were not treated well for having them, I imagine,” she deduces.
Hiccup wordlessly nods.
Mala feels a vicious surge of anger, at whoever the boy’s family and home island were. “If you were gifted wings, you…. must be truly special, Hiccup. Perhaps a symbolization of a connection to dragons that no one has ever achieved before.”
“Uh…. I don’t know about that,” Hiccup fumbles, almost as though he is embarrassed.
“Even if you have not found that path yet, the wings speak for themselves,” she replies, firmly, “They are not something to be ashamed of.”
Hiccup freezes, almost self-consciously side-eying his feathers. “I know,” he mumbles, in a way that implies he very much does not.
Well, that is a topic they can revisit later.
“Now, I believe I offered you a meal,” Mala says, moving for the table and hoping that now that she’s no longer between him and the window, he’s not going to bolt, “When I instituted measures to catch the thief sneaking through the village, I had no idea it was you. You will not be harmed here “
Hiccup winces. “Sorry,” he mutters, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “I just – don’t really have food.”
Mala feels immediate sympathy. It is also what she suspected. “Were you thrown off your home island?”
“I – I ran away,” Hiccup mutters, eyes downcast, “They – they kill dragons there and I… made friends with a Night Fury. I left to keep him safe.”
“You are friends with a dragon?” she asks, curiously.
Hiccup nods. “I, uh – We’ve been traveling together, staying hidden.”
She…. has a lot of questions about a literal Night Fury, later. But priorities first. “You may remain here,” Mala tells him, as Hiccup slowly eases himself onto the chair, like he’s still afraid of suddenly being informed he does not have permission to be here “If you so desire. You will have food here….and whatever you and your dragon friend need.”
“Just…. like that?” Hiccup asks, “What if the people don’t like me? Or….”
“I am the queen,” she replies, unconcerned, “They will obey my command, and there is no chance they would take issue with your presence, regardless.”
Hiccup’s head snaps up, gaping at her, like he just realized he may have picked the worst possible house to rob, had she been hostile. “You’re a QUEEN?!”