Hiccup Nights Remember Me
Fools. That's what they all were. Arrogant fools who seemed to think that the world revolved around them. Fools who thought that they were untouchable. Fools who had no idea that he had been working for hundreds of years on his plans. Fools who were completely oblivious to the fact that the very world they stood on top of was slowly crumbling under their feet. They would never find out though, not until it was to late and they were slipping into the abyss he'd created.
They thought that his plan had failed. They thought that their last battle with him was eight years ago, fought in the forgettable town of Burgess, the home of Jack Frost. They had no idea it was just another small part of his plan. He'd almost destroyed them than, but it wasn't their time, and it wasn't his time to do so, he needed to wait, but he had managed to get what he wanted.
None of them were any the wiser to what that fight was really about. They had no idea what his true intentions were in those few days that he had them scurrying around.
He'd gotten what he wanted though. His mission had been a success.
They had no idea. They had failed.
A small chuckle slipped passed his lips as he leaned back further into his throne. The gleaming black stone would have made anyone else shift in discomfort, but he sat in bliss as he looked over his kingdom of darkness. The fearlings shifting in and out of the shadows seamlessly, confusing people as to where the shadows ended and they began, like wet sand on a beach blending in with the golden sand that rested further on the land. Sharp stones pierced the air, reaching out to the high ceiling like hands of desperate people trying to claw their way out of darkness. Tunnels lead every which way, disappearing into the rock walls and reappearing like an illusion, some leading the way to winding stairs that brought you nowhere and others travelling into the heart of the darkness.
It was beautiful, it was cold, unfeeling, heartless.
It was his.
Turning his golden gaze to the small body curled up in his lap he smiled as he gently ran his long fingers through the dark locks, untangling them as he went.
Wild, reckless, heartless, dark, beautiful, his.
This little fearling was his. His most prize possession. His greatest weapon. His gift from Mim himself.
It would be their downfall. It would be their destroyer. It was going to be the one to knock out the pillars of their kingdoms and bring them tumbling to the ground.
"Wake up my little nightmare." He purred, the body in his arms shifting as they made a low growl deep in their chest.
Not that Pitch could blame him, the poor thing barely got any sleep that wasn't racked by his own nightmares, monsters of his past taring at his mind when it was least protected. By memories he couldn't fully remember. By memories that Pitch wouldn't allow him to remember.
"Wake up little one." He said again, his voice soft as it drifted over the slightly pointed ears that flinched and twitched from the warmth of the air, an unnatural occurrence in the caves.
Slowly though black orbs squinted open, a soundless yawn stretching their lips to revel a mouthful of sharp teeth. Black clawed hands fanned out, shaking as they reached their limit before curling back, pressing sharply into the rough palms. Eye's opening halfway now the small creature looked up at Pitch through a daze as it sunk lower into the body it was pressed into,blinking up at the man with bottomless pits that no longer held the sanity they had lost hundreds of years before. The only light that seemed to come from it at all was a small glowing pendent that rested against the bare ash gray chest. Slowly rising and falling in time with the shallow breaths.
"Good morning." Pitch chuckled, stroking a hand over their matted black hair, his smile widening when a soft purr sounded from the back of their throat. "I have a job for you Hiate."
Tilting its head to the side it waited to hear its orders, instead of giving them straight away though the man nudged the boy off, until his bare feet were softly touching the ground. Dirt and grim from years of slinking around the caves and through shadows, almost made them nearly blend in with the rock they rested on as it crouched in front of its master. Pitch watched, always silently amazed when the mighty wings would flutter out and stretch wide, showing their pure power in one simple move without thought. Their inky blackness seeming to suck out the dim light that surrounded them and choke it till nothing was left.
How could Mim have created something so perfectly fitting to be a fearling and think with even a sliver of hope that it would be good? The boy was lost the moment Pitch crept out to steal his soul.
"I need you to deliver a message to our friends." He said as he sat up a little straighter, granting himself better access to the letters he had tucked away in the folds of his shirt.
The child like creature stood up, stretching its arms over its head as one of the wings fanned out to the side, easily knocking a group of fearlings off their path. They snarled at him, earning themselves a sharp swat from the strong tail that sent them tumbling off the raised rock that held the throne and hurtling to the ground. Their sharp cries pulled at the corners of the winged beasts lips as the purr sounded up once more.
"Hiate." Pitch said, drawing the empty eyes back to him as he held the letters out, their creamy white making the grey hue of his hands sharper. "Make sure that they get these."
Black orbs gazed at the letters lazily, slowly moving from its job to its master as they narrowed and thin lips pulled back to form a snarl. Pitch simply frowned, his own golden eyes looking over the creature before him with disinterest, earning himself a more venomous hiss as the tail twitched with an irritation he was all to familiar with.
The softness in his voice was gone, but it didn't seem to care as its body slowly relaxed.
Perfect it might have been. His greatest weapon and most powerful fearling, yes. With one fatal flaw...
With a single flick of his wrists the ground seemed to peel back, as if it was old paint under the intense heat of the sun. Two glowing green pools lit up the darkness, a hiss escaping from the floor as claws scrapped across the hard stones, setting off sparks that created a dull glow over the much bigger winged beast inside. One that Pitch should have feared, but knew he had no reason to. So long as he held the little one in the palm of his hand.
"Toothless." He said, his words just as empty and cold as the area surrounding them.
The beast within didn't say a word as it lifted itself out with one powerful beat of its great wings. He wasn't all that surprised by the silence though, this beast never spoke a word to him.
Even so he continued to watch as Toothless made his way over to the freely smiling creature. He seemed to waste no time in trapping the smaller male in his strong arms before muttering soft words in a language that Pitch had grown tired of hearing after all the years of keeping the two.
For so long he'd tried to get rid of the 'plus one', but their bond was a lot stronger than he had ever thought possible, and no matter what he seemed to do nothing worked. He couldn't warp Toothless' mind like he had the child's, but Toothless was loyal to a fault, and he would die before leaving the boy's side.
Holding out the letters again Pitch ignored the toxic orbs that followed his every move with malicious intent, and kept his own gaze on the creature that sniffed at the objects before snatching them between razor sharp claws.
"Good boy." He cooed as he ran his fingers through the dark hair again.
His hand barely got halfway before it was snatched tightly in the iron grip of the humanoid. Shifting his gaze over he didn't have to wait long before his little fearling was snarling again, this time at the other winged creature that he'd demanded the release of. Toothless let Pitch go, acting as if the very action had deemed his hand dirty enough to hack off and throw away. Really Pitch would be all to happy to help him do that.
"I believe I gave you a job Hiate."
His names Hiccup.
Toothless snarled, uttering the first words that he had spoken to Pitch in decades.
A deep chuckle worked its way out of his throat as he clasped his hands behind his back and gave the narrowed eyed gaze a smile filled with sharp teeth and sick humour.
"Oh please Toothless." He said, bringing up a hand to pat the others cheek with mock tenderness. "Hiccup's dead."
Winder: Okay guys, it's short but there you go. Although this seems like a pretty big change it's really not going to be all that different from the original but it will be able to follow the way that I wanted it to but couldn't make happen in the other one. I hope you guys like it. :)