Chapter One

So, this is How to Train Your Dragon mixed with the Avengers. I can't be the only one who sees the similarities between Hiccup and Tony, right? They're both engineers, (Medieval blacksmithing was basically their version of engineering, right?) they're both abnormally intelligent for their times and communities, they're both the only son of a powerful man, they're both unaccepted by their fathers (Before the first HTTYD movie), they are both part of a team of six (not including any Avengers that weren't part of the original movie), and both of their teams were protectors of their communities. Plus they're both sarcastic little shits. So, because Toothless is in this story and he is Tony's "superpower" Tony will not be Iron Man. Although most of the events of at least the first two movies will still happen, they will be different. I have a rough outline on how this will go, but I am leaving my options open. This will start with the How to Train Your Dragon storyline, then go onto the Marvel movies. I am planning for eventual Steve/Tony, but that is off in the future.

Obviously I own nothing. If I owned either of these movies it would be a lot easier to pay my tuition. Thanks for reading!

Chapter One

Tony's head broke the surface was a strangled gasp. He desperately sucked down air, then choked when the ocean threw spray into his face. Spotting a piece of floating debris, he kicked over to it and was able to grab on and use it to keep his head above water. "Dad! Mom! Anyone?!" He shouted frantically. He had no idea where anyone else was, or if anyone else had even made it off the ship. He had been asleep in his room below deck when the explosion had gone off, and the expedition ship had shuddered and immediately began to list to the side. Everything had happened very fast after that, and he barely had time to stumble out of his room before it became clear the ship was going down, and fast.

"Dad!" Tony screamed again, but if there was an answer, it was stolen by the wind. He took a deep breath, and tried to find some calm. The water was freezing, and he couldn't stay like this or he wouldn't last until the sun came up. He had to find a way out of the water, and some way to get dry or he wouldn't stand a chance. He began to kick at the water, trying to force his blood to keep circulating as well as move forward in search of something to keep him out of the ocean. It was a pitch black night, and the only light he had was the flames of the rapidly sinking ship. But he eventually spotted something reflective bobbing in the waves, and with hope rising, Tony desperately kicked towards it.

The bright, reflective package was the inflatable raft, tied with a long rope to the emergency kit. It must have been thrown from the ship after the explosion. Didn't matter to Tony, he was just so damn grateful for something to go his way. He grabbed the rope attached to the package with shivering hands, and yanked with what strength he had left. The cord came free, and the raft quickly inflated itself. Tony eagerly swam to it, and, struggling, managed to drag himself onto it. He laid there too long, trying to catch his breath. Then, gathering his strength yet again, he dragged himself up and reeled in the emergency kit. He didn't bother looking through all the supplies yet, he just dug until he found the package holding the aluminum blanket. He dragged the lightweight, crinkly thing over his shoulders, and took a breath.

"Is anyone out there?!" Tony shouted as loud as he could. He was met with silence, only the wind to keep him company. Okay, okay, calm down Stark, he thought firmly. He was a damn genius, he could find a way out of this. He was alone - oh dear god his parents - "DAD! MOM!" Tony screamed, but once again, there was no answer. The wind had died down, and left no doubt about the lack of answer. Oh god, oh no, if they were dead, if they were dead he was truly alone. His dad was a bastard, and spent more time drinking and screaming at Tony than even trying to be a father, but he was indeed Tony's father. And his mother, while not around much, had never been cruel to him. They were the only family he had, and now even if he managed to survive the night, he was alone. Okay, okay, freak out later, he told himself. For now, he had to try to survive the night, and hopefully it would warm up a bit when the sun came up.

The ship was nearly gone beneath the waves by now, and Tony had to act fast to get what he would need throughout the night before the light from the fires were gone. He opened the emergency kit again. Inside, there was some dried food, four bottles of water, three more of the aluminum blankets, matches - what good would they do him in the middle of the ocean? - a wind-up flashlight, a flare gun, a mirror, some line and fish hooks, and a pocket knife. For now, Tony removed the extra blankets, one bottle of water, one package of food, the flare gun, the flashlight, and the pocket knife. He wrapped the blankets around himself the best he could, and opened the bottle of water. Once the water touched his lips, he realized how dehydrated the salt water and his desperate swim had made him and it took all his willpower not to chug down the entire bottle. He didn't know how long he would be stuck there until the distress signal the ship would have automatically sent out would be received and help would arrive. So for now, he only drank a forth of the bottle, and settled down to wait.

He had been so excited when his father told him he would be going on the yearly search. His father rarely went on these trips personally anymore, but he never stopped his research on where Captain America's body could be. He still paid for a ship to go out every year and hunt, but this time he felt he had a solid lead and wanted to personally go with the crew. The ship had been discreetly named The Seeker in hoped of keeping the search quiet. No Stark name splashed across this ship, although Howard did in fact own it. Howard had decided that now that Tony was 14 and freshly graduated from high school, he was old enough to go along on the search. The Seeker and her crew were searching waters even more north than where Captain America was believed to have gone into the ice, but Howard thought the ocean may have moved the plane over the years. Whatever the reasoning, Tony was sure cursing that fact now as he shivered on his raft.

Time blurred together. Tony ate one of the packets of food, and somehow managed to sleep. His dreams were messy and confusing, filled with water and cold and a rhythmic rocking. He didn't remember them when he woke, and that was probably a blessing. It was a clear and beautiful day, with no sign of the chaos and tragedy the night had wrought. There wasn't any sign of The Seeker. No debris, or litter, nothing. Just small, gentle waves and clear water. The cold had lifted some with the sunlight, but it was still freezing. It would probably take another day at least for help to arrive, but Tony felt confident his food and water would last that long, even if he wouldn't be exactly comfortable. The problem would be the cold, and the condition of the raft. His little inflatable boat was not meant to last long on an open ocean, and Tony would have to be vigilant about any tears or damage and see if he could find a way to patch the raft before any damage could sink it.

It also was rapidly becoming clear just how boring being stuck on a raft in the middle of the Arctic Ocean was. There was nothing for miles on any side, with only the waves as anything moving. The sky was clear, without even any clouds to look at. Tony had nothing to tinker with, and Nothing. To. Do. He was a damn genius, his mind was meant to be constantly occupied. Tony felt like the boredom was killing him more torturously than the cold ever could. He tried to occupy his mind with thoughts of home, but he had never had a talent for day dreaming. Still. He tried to remember times he felt safe, warm, and happy. He thought about his ninth birthday, when his father had been out of town on business and hadn't called. His mother had left before he had woken up and gone out with friends. So Jarvis had taken Tony out to a baseball game. It was something Tony had never done, and had never thought about doing. But he and Jarvis sat in the bleachers, with hot dogs and popcorn and screamed for their team. Jarvis had bought Tony a baseball cap, and Tony still had it to this day, although it was at home. He had never had a day where he could just go out and be normal, where he wasn't Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, boy genius and heir to the family fortune. But that day, he got to eat overpriced, greasy food, and he got ketchup on his shirt but Jarvis had just laughed and told him it was a hazard of the game.

It was one of his best memories, and Tony was suddenly fiercely grateful that Jarvis had not gone with the Starks on The Seeker. He had been completely against Tony going with Howard on the trip, and had told Tony that Captain America was not his responsibility and he should not get involved with his father's obsession. But Tony had been adamant, hoping that if he was there, he could have the brainstorm that led to finding his father's old friend, which would lead to Howard finally accepting and feeling pride in Tony. Instead, Howard had completely ignored Tony, and poured over his papers and maps. He had shouted angrily any time Tony had tried to speak with him, and the last time Tony had barely managed to dodge the heavy glass of whiskey Howard had thrown. Tony kept his distance after that.

Tony broke out of his thoughts when they started to go to his parents. He didn't want to think about them right now. Instead he opened his bottle of water, and finished it off.

Hours blurred together. Tony continued to wait.

A day passed. No ship loomed on the horizon. The uninterrupted span of water did not break.

Two days passed. Tony's supplies were nearly gone. He tried to fish, but without anything to bait the hook he didn't stand a chance at catching something. Tony waited.

Days passed. All of the food and water was gone. The raft got a hole in the side. Tony used the pocket knife to cut off the heel of his shoe, and used the matches to melt the rubber to make a rough patch for the hole. He waited.

Tony stopped counting the days. His mouth was dry as a bone, and he got desperate enough to try to drink some salt water, even though he knew it would only make the dehydration worse. He ended up just throwing it up over the side of the raft. Tony waited.

Tony found he didn't have the strength to sit up anymore. He layed on his side on the floor of the raft and tried to stay awake. He waited, not for rescue, but for death to end the waiting.

Tony dreamed that he was a child again, and Jarvis had found him sleeping on the floor of the kitchen where he had been hiding from his father's drunken rage. He had lifted him, but his arms felt larger and more muscular than Tony remembered. His voice was wrong too, not English, but a strange accent Tony had never heard before. There sounded like more than one person speaking. Had his father found him, or one of the kitchen staff? Tony slipped deeper into unconsciousness where the dreams made sense.

Constructive criticism is welcome! Let me know what you think, and if you think I should continue this. I am not a writer, and have never been tempted until now to write creatively, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and couldn't find any stories like this. I will write at least a few chapters and see how it goes, then if I am enjoying it and other people seem to as well, I will continue it. Thanks for reading!