Is that… it is! Another fan fiction to drive me to drink Pepsi and struggle to get out each chapter!
This story is inspired by tsuanyue (also my beta for this story) who brought me a generous gift of plot bunny! So happy Easter, and if don't celebrate that, happy Sunday!
My BETA IS AMAZING. LOVE HER!
So, this story is about what would happen if Hiccup didn't go into dragon training! Remember that part where Hiccup asked if they had enough bread-making Vikings? Yeah, that part of the movie? This is where Hiccup begs not to be put into training after meeting Toothless and his father has no choice but to send his son to lock-down (really to exile) on an island near-by. With only dragons for company, Hiccup's life is about to get very crazy.
Really IMPORTANT: My beta brought up a valid point when writing this, we are both unsure if it is entirely legal to quote the movie, so some sentences have been changed and because of the this first chapter might be a little awkward. As the disclaimer says though I don't own it, and I'm only using the quotes to give everyone an idea of where we are so far in the story.
Warnings/rating: Heavy angst, I'm going to go with middle Teens for this story (like 14 and up). Spoilers for those that have not seen the movie, LIKE MAJOR SPOILERS
Disclaimer: As said before in other stories, I own nothing! I do not own the movie, How To Train Your Dragon by DreamWorks, or the book by Cressida Cowell. (But if I did…)
Notes: Some of the dialogue from the original scene in the movie might be cut out simply due to the length, but it probably won't be too noticeable… that's about it. If you like it then review. If you don't like it, well sorry.
Listening to for inspiration: All for Love- by Brian Adams, Rod Stewart, and Sting!
The red haired boy knew he was a disgrace to his father's good name. It ate away like molten steel at his inside's, painful and burning. Hiccup was too young to really have much of an idea of how to correct his terrible reputation, other than to become a Viking and kill dragons. That was what was pounded into the heads of every young Viking from birth, and Odin have mercy upon your soul if you didn't conform into a proper trainee, unlike Hiccup.
It was getting worse, Hiccup could feel it. The villager's terrible glares whenever he left his house. The lanky boy decided he didn't even want to leave the house anymore. Gobber could always find another apprentice. Hiccup knew the only reason he'd been taken on as the apprentice for the gnarled man was because of his father being the village chief.
Currently, the boy was walking through a sparse forest. Pine trees were plentiful, but none grew closely together; kind of like the Vikings that lived on this island. The young boy knew he had gotten that dragon. He could feel it all the way thorough his body, tingling like how cold hands felt after they started warming up.
So far every place he'd checked had come up empty, "The gods hate me!" he lamented as he stepped onto a rock. "Some people lose their knife in the bog, but not me. I manage to lose an entiredragon?" Disgust colored his voice as he closed his eyes; straining to keep his angry tears from falling. He swatted vindictively at a low-hanging branch, and the vengeful things flicked him back in the face. Was it too late to go back home and curl up under a fur, never to come out again?
The depressed boy stopped as he viewed the tree connected to that evil branch and noticed it was destroyed. His eyes followed the path of broken trees and scorched earth. Excitement and hope bubbled up in the thin boy's neck. Could it be?
He rushed over and scrambled up a hill of displaced dirt only to gasp and duck back down, his finger curling tightly into the cool soil. Hiccup struggled to control his breathing as he slowly peeked back up to look at the fallen beast. Black scales darker than the darkest night, with forearms and forelegs, and what looked like an incredible wingspan for medium sized dragon.
Hiccup moved forward automatically, his desire to finally bring back proof to his father that he didn't mess up and the he really did hit a Night Fury! "I did it!" he proclaimed joyfully, "I did it… I did it! This changes everything. Yes! I have brought down this mighty beast!"
The cheerful boy made his mistake then, something most Viking children already knew, never look into the eyes of what you're about to kill. Too late, emerald irises met toxic-green eyes with black slit-pupils. The breath left the wiry boy at the sight of their beauty but he shook it off, "I'm going to cut out your heart dragon. I'm going to cut out your heart and take it to my father!" his voice rose slightly as adrenaline began to pump through him, "I'm a Viking." He murmured.
"I'm a Viking!" he yelled, not sure if he was trying to convince his own doubtful heart and shaky nerves or the dragon that had closed its eyes in acceptance of its own helplessness and pain.
Hiccup raised the knife high above his head, his arm's nerves spring loaded, the slightest noise would have startled him into bringing it down; but there was silence and nothing but the pounding of his own heart. So loud, oh why so loud? Was this not what he was supposed do? He was a Viking, was it really that he was just a coward?
The depression overwhelmed and he closed his eyes in disgrace. His graceful hands still wrapped around the knife lowered to rest on his head. 'Why? Why can't I do even this right?'
The shock began to set in. His failure at being a Viking even in his mind, "I did this…" The words sounded flat and full of remorse.
Hiccup turned, intent to leave this scene, to forget all about this Night Fury and hide in his room until he died from starvation, but… He turned his head and gazed at the still-tied up dragon. It wasn't fair for him to leave the dragon like that.
Before his mind could process it, he was already sawing through the second rope and reaching for the third. With a snap the dragon sprang free and pounced in a half-second to grab Hiccup by the throat. The beast was enraged, his growl rumbling thorough Hiccup's entire body. The Viking boy was both praying to be released while at the same time hoping it would kill him anyway.
Time froze as they stared at one another, a pitiful human and an injured dragon. The black beast seemed to make up his mind because he opened his mouth and let out a ferocious screeching roar that felt like it would peel the skin from the boy's face; then it dashed away. It tried to fly every now and again, but for some unknown reason it would ultimately crash into a random tree or boulder.
The Viking boy sat stunned and concussed for a minute before climbing shakily to his feet and staggering a short distance before fainting straight away.
______________A few hours later______________
Hiccup had managed to make it back to his home without fainting into a random ditch or patch of grass. His knees were still weak from the experience, but he was slowly regaining his mobility. He paused momentarily outside the door of his house, one slender hand resting on the doorknob; with a deep breath he shoved inside. The boy had a single minded goal and that was to make it past his dad -violently poking the embers of the hearth- and go straight to his room. Once in room, stay for weeks until someone complains of the stench. The thin youth sidled around his father and was running on all fours up the stairs when he heard, "Hiccup?"
The boy winced at his name, "Y-yes dad?" He back down off the stairs and stared up into the face of his father.
"Dad… I need to talk to you."
The large Viking clasped his hands together, "I need to talk to you too son."
Hiccup felt his stomach clench slightly, "Dad, I don't want to fight dragons!"
"Son, it's time you learned to fight dragons."
The both of them spoke at the same time, and neither had been paying much attention until they both thought they heard something they didn't want to hear.
Stoick shifted slightly, "You go first Hiccup."
Hiccup took a deep breath, "No, you go first Dad."
Stoick smiled slightly, "You get your wish. You start dragon training tomorrow."
Hiccup sucked in a breath and hugged himself; suddenly he wasn't getting enough air. "You know dad, I've been thinking about this whole thing," the boy's voice tried to sound enticing and cheerful, "We've got a surplus of dragon fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread making Vikings?! Or small home repair…."
Stoick's heart clenched. Oh dear little boy, he always made it so hard for the leader of the tribe. "Son, I want you to listen to me, if you do not go through your dragon training you will not be considered a Viking, and I can't have a non-Viking heir."
The pain of those words was equally terrible to both the father and son. Hiccup was Stoick's only son, and Stoick… he was Hiccup's protector and rock. "You mean you'd disown me because I can't be a Viking?" Hiccup asked incredulously.
Stoick flinched, before snapping back, "You're the one that just said he can't fight dragons. Do you wish for me to send you to your death?"
Hiccup looked as though he'd been struck, "At least I'd die with my own name! With your last name! Where would I go in exile and how would I survive? You and the warriors are leaving tonight, when are you going to exile me? Now?"
The heart-broken father stared at his panting and pale -well, more paler than usual- son. Nothing broke a father's heart into a million pieces like a child who fails, when you want nothing more than for them to succeed.
Stoick shook his bearded head, "No, I must go to the dragon's island immediately, and I can't prepare for such a ceremony in an hour."
Hiccup wasn't looking at the older man's face, his emerald irises glowing from the light of the fire as he struggled not to cry. "Look at me Hiccup."
Since birth, the young boy had been taught, trained even, to obey that voice, and it worked. His eyes shot up to meet his father's. Stoick awkwardly put out a hand, looking as though he were going to brush his fingers down the red strands, before deciding to rest upon a narrow shoulder. "I would never," The leader said with a growl, "send you somewhere dangerous. There is an island, about five or six miles off of this one. Nothing lives there except rabbits and sheep and such." The man paused eyes thoughtful, "Maybe I could just place you there under observation, and tell the others that you're being purged of your bad luck by fasting and living on your own…"
The Viking leader trailed off, lost in his own plans; but when Hiccup tried to twist away he was grabbed, not ungently, by his elbow. "Hiccup, you are to tell no one about this, and you will stay within the limits of the village. If you can do that, when I get back I will not have to exile you!"
Hiccup felt a flutter of hope fly up into his heart. He would be able to keep his name -terrible as it was-? He could still call this awkward fighting monster his father?
The father patted his son awkwardly one last time and turned away shrugging his pack onto a shoulder and looking back at Hiccup with the saddest look the boy had ever seen his father make. Then the bulky Viking turned away and said, "I'll be back in a few weeks, probably."
And then he was gone out the door leaving Hiccup to curl up near the fire and sniffle to himself. Why was he such a screw up? Why couldn't he just say, "yeah, sign me of for dragon training"? He could just hang in the back, look like he knew what he was doing, someone else gets to kill the Nightmare at the end, and he would be a full-fledged Viking.
He palmed his face. And a bread making Viking? Where on Odin's green Earth did he ever think up that thought? No wonder his father was so quick to give up and say he'd have to be disowned. Hiccup honestly wouldn't want himself for a son either. Heaving a sigh, the petite boy banked the fire and went upstairs to his bed; curling up miserably on it.
Despite his trouble, his father was correct in saying that his attention span was that of a sparrow. There Hiccup was, teetering on the thin edge of being disowned, and he started to think about the Night Fury. It wasn't intentional, but it had been one of the most amazing moments -the first of many- in his life. The red-headed boy turned onto his stomach and clutched at the thin neck pillow before reaching a hand underneath his bed for his hidden fluffy one.
That's right he'd made a pillow, and it was a damned good one. Soft but firm enough to keep his head off the hard mattress, it was bliss. The small Viking boy only used it sometimes when he was feeling his lowest. He was never sure when he father might walk in to have another one of those "father and son" talks he seemed so fond of. Soon he was comfortable and warm underneath several supple furs, one blanket with the fur-side down and hide sewn on top with the fur facing out. His father -he was not going to start crying- had gotten it for him, when the medicine elder said the small boy would take chill more easily than the others, another trouble the boy burdened the elder man with. Burrowing down into the warmth, Hiccup imagined himself far away from the cold, unforgiving island of Berk.
Hiccup groaned lowly as he shifted in his bed, his face burying itself into the comfy pillow. He didn't want to wake up and face the daylight that seemed very anxious to see him. He lied peacefully, slowly waking back up and becoming more aware of his surroundings. The red haired boy knew he would have nothing to do today. Dragon training was starting for his peers: Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs, and Astrid. Hiccup knew he would be the luckiest boy to ever roam Berk if he could win her attention.
Still, there was no reason for the youth to lie in bed all day. He may not have anything to do, but Gobber would probably think that Hiccup would shut himself up in the cottage, which meant he could go back to see the dragon. A tingle of apprehension and delicious adrenaline shot up Hiccup's spine; the desire to see the fallen beast increasing two-fold. Hiccup rolled agilely out of bed and hopped wildly. The floor was icy cold to his bare feet.
After managing to pull on his leggings without tripping into anything and struggling with his long-sleeved tunic, Hiccup grabbed his fishing pole and shoved his -now covered- feet into his boots.
The morning was crisp, and it wasn't snowing or hailing either. A perfect day for fishing. As the gangly boy settled himself along one of the docks his line already cast, he waited patiently while enjoying the warmth of the sun provided. He didn't have to wait long, his line nearly jerking from his lax hands with the force of the tug from the struggling fish. -Njörðr(1), even the fish were stronger than he was!-
The cod eventually lost its battle, and Hiccup nodded in satisfaction at a job well done for once. He grabbed his pole and walked back toward his cottage to put his pole away, shocking the few villagers still left that he'd manage to catch a fish and no one was bleeding from stray hooks.
'That'll show them I can do some things right,' he thought proudly. Leaving the fishing gear behind at his house; Hiccup stealthily snuck into the forest, his body on autopilot. 'Will he eat the fish? I wonder if dragons like cod… what if he decides to eat me instead?" A slightly panicked look entered the kind facial features of the boy, "Maybe Hlin(2) will be with me today and it'll all work out fine?" Even to his own ears is sounded like he was asking a question. He had never been exactly "favored" by the God's. In fact half the time Hiccup felt that they just like to pick on him and mess him up for their own entertainment. The boy sighed and continued to pray, 'Today, please just be with me today!"
As he approached the valley his ears heard the muted roars of the Night Fury, still in a wide-eyed rage and attempting to escape the natural prison, but when he reached a small crack in the valley walls all sound died.
Holding his breath the boy pressed flat against the wall, using it as a shield, and tossed the fish as far in as he could throw it, -not really all that far-. Holding his breath, the small boy listened for any sound of the monstrous dragon approaching, but there was nothing?
Peering out from around the rock wall, Hiccup took one hesitate step in, and then another. He looked around as he retrieved the fish by its gills; not noticing the crouched black mass ready to pounce upon him, not until he'd turned and the creature was leaping down. Hiccup in sudden fear thrust the fish out as far as he could stretch his arm, a peace offering of sorts. For a moment the dragon was so overcome by hunger that he sidled up slowly, reached out, and then leapt back snarling.
Hiccup felt him mouth go dry and tried to think of a way, any way, to keep the dragon from deciding that he was a hostile presence. 'My knife!'
Hiccup moved his vest carefully aside to display the knife, the black dragons slit-pupil eyes narrowed. When the boy actually touched the cold metal, the dragon hissed. "No, no, no! It's okay!" He took the knife from the loop and tossed on the ground.
The dragon snorted and made a movement with his head toward the water. Hiccup didn't think it strange that he knew what the scaly creature was asking. Using the tip of his boot, Hiccup maneuvered the blade onto the top of his foot and kicked it into the water.
At the resounding, "plip," the great beast seemed quizzical, sitting back to observe what it must have thought to be an incredibly strange little Viking, tossing away his only weapon.
The black devil had not been worried even when the man-child had his "knife" and now the insignificant thing was shyly -and fearfully- holding out a fish. The Night Fury felt his stomach turn itself inside out from hunger. He couldn't stand it. He stalked forward slowly, edging himself closer, his scaled body held away just in case. As he opened his maw to snatch the fish, the man-child opened his pink orifice -they had a strange thing called "lips"- and spoke the words, "Strange I could have sworn you had-" He was cut off as the Night Fury unsheathed his dagger-esque teeth, and in three chomps, finished off his fish.
"Teeth…" The Night Fury suddenly became very focused on the meat-boy. The tiny human's heart was racing as he moved elegantly forward. The human stumbled awkwardly back and stuttered to him. The Night Fury was observing this thin slip of human and when he had the boy pinned against the boulder, the shaky voice said, "No… I-I don't have any more…"
The Night Fury was surprised by the sudden feeling of being quite touched. This insignificant human had brought him a fish to feed him and had had none for himself? The Night Fury directed his body to regurgitate the last piece of fish, and he plopped it on the child's legs. The Night Fury nodded to himself and settled back on his hind legs to watch while the soft-fleshed creature stared at him, slowly blinking.
For a few minutes nothing happened, the human embarrassedly turned his eyes away, and the Night Fury cocked his head, 'Is the man-child slow?' He very deliberately looked down and the fish and then back up at the humans face.
Hiccup let out a sigh and picked up the fish, hesitating as the smell of raw fish and whatever stomach juices had been in the dragon's stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a bite nearly gagging -cod had never really been his favorite- but managed to keep it in his mouth.
"Mmhm." The boy murmured, mouth bulging.
The Night Fury waited, than with an with an inward sigh, mimicked gulping. The human made a humorous noise, and attempted to swallow it. Hiccup managed to get it down on the second gulp, shuddering as the slimy mess slipped down his throat. The great beast seemed pleased though, smacking its own mouth. The Viking boy was suddenly struck by how cute the dragon was. His body went on auto pilot and he reached out to touch the scaly head. Did it feel as smooth as it looked?
The Night Fury realized that he was feeling much too comfortable with this human. Yes he was small and unassuming, but perhaps that was just a plan? A ruse to lure him into becoming comfortable?
With a shriek of anger he leapt away, anger growing when he couldn't stay up without his tail-fin. The pitch-black dragon burned a warm circle and rested comfortably. The pretty chirping of a bird drew his attention and when he looked back down; his face grew irritated when he saw the persistent little human.
With an almost human scowl the dragon shifted his body and curled his tail up over his face, unable to bear looking at the small man-child.
Said man-child had a look of awe on his face and with a childish glee scooted over several times. He reached out a very frail hand -in the sense that it could be snapped off easily- 'so close, I'm so close…'
The tail snapped close and in a single motion the jittery human jumped up, pretending as though he'd been of a mind to get up anyway. The regal Night Fury snorted at the man-child. What did it think him as? A little Terror that you could flash a fish at and be best pals for life?
The scaled beast jumped into a tree and hung by his tail his wings cupped around him to block out the light.
Hiccup sighed as he sat down and watched the large dragon. It was so amazing. This was more amazing than anything he could even comprehend. The very idea of being near such a feared dragon and be still alive! That though, Hiccup supposed, could be easily remedied though. The Viking boy knew he would have to be more cautious.
He sat there for hours just studying the wings of Toothless. Hiccup had decided he had to call the dragon something and that seemed to fit. They had an amazing quality unlike which the boy had ever seen before.
The sun was setting soon. In the red head's idle boredom he picked up a stick and began to doodle in the dirt. He was so occupied he didn't notice the Night Fury had woken.
If the Night Fury had been surprised earlier, he was even more so now. The entire day had passed and that stubborn man-child was still here. There were no other Vikings and no one trying to kill him the black dragon was pleasantly shocked to see.
He heard the sound of the stick scratching in the dirt and walked over. The child tensed up when the boy felt his presence, but the human didn't turn to look back at him.
The slit-pupils dilated slightly as they adjusted to the distance and studied the picture, the suspicion falling away as he saw the resemblance of the doodle to his own reflection in the water. Now the majestic dragon, feared by almost all others, would never admit to what he did; but even for all his reputation really, he was quite young.
Standing up and walking bi-pedal over to a nearby pine tree, the strong Night Fury pulled it up from the ground. Then, much to Hiccup's amazement -and amusement- he began to scrape furrow into the dirt with the end.
For a minute the dragon ran pell mell about the boulder that Hiccup was perched on, before running past the human, who did not appreciate the whack over the back of his head, and finishing with a twirl.
Tossing the pine tree aside, the Night Fury looked with beaming pride at his map of his usual hunting route. It was quite chaotic, but hey those wild goats never just stayed the way stupid sheep did.
Hiccup didn't know if the scribbles had any real meaning as he stood up to observe the lines. He stepped back and nearly died from fright when the dragon went from docile to snarling.
Hiccup observed his boot resting against a line and he lifted it carefully, Toothless's snarling ceased, his crooning back and ears straight out. Feeling a little devious, the boy lowered his foot again and was given another snarl. He did it one more time, but stopped when this snarl was accompanied by Toothless moving down to all fours.
Thinking about it later, Hiccup would have said -if there was anyone even willing to talk to him- he would have said that the resulting movements felt like a dance. Each step and twirl and spin to avoid those lines in the sand. It was almost surreal that at the end of all this "dancing" there was a king of dragons behind him, watching him calculatingly.
When Hiccup looked into those eyes that had been so fierce earlier, he could see no hint of aggression just a window that pulled him into the dragon's soul. The boy could see every flicker of emotion. At the surface was irritation, wonder, and amusement, but deep in their recesses he saw loneliness that could rival his own.
The lithe boy held his breath as the atmosphere of this moment rushed over him. This was an important moment. He reached out carefully and slowly, unwilling to be the one to shatter the sudden calm and engaging mood. The dragon snorted, his eyes narrowing and giving a tiny snarl; hardly as aggressive as the ones he gave earlier.
Crushed, Hiccup curled his hand back a little but felt determination well up. Turning his head away, he gave his trust to the dragon that the beast wouldn't hurt him and reached again. He stretched his arm out almost all the way and let it hang there. He could feel his heart racing. If the dragon didn't accept this and turned aggressive, Hiccup knew there would be no reconciliation.
The Night Fury felt his loneliness well up as he stared at the boy who seemed to have looked into his very spirit and being. He gave a half-hearted snarl when the boy reached the first time, but something was pulling him. His heart was pounding to match the man-child's and he felt an irresistible tugging from the boy, not physically, but something was calling to the dragon and he was wholly unprepared to stand against such an emotion.
The most feared of all dragons moved his head a centimeter forward, still resisting, before his resolve broke and he let his eyes slide shut. He pressed his scaled nose into the boy's hand -so warm and so, so soft- finally giving in.
Hiccup felt like he would never breathe again. Breathing might break this spell-bound moment. He looked in awe as he stared passed his hand pressed against the dragon's muzzle -smooth and not as warm as he would have thought- and looked into those toxic green eyes.
The moment broke like a wave breaking upon the unforgiving sand. With a snort the Night Fury leapt away, upset with himself and confused about his heart's desire to ease his loneliness with a human companion. Maybe he had hit a tree a little too hard?
Hiccup didn't want to leave, but he knew that if he continued to push he might just send them back in their bond then forward, and it was too dangerous to walk in the forest by himself at night. Dragons were not the only creatures known to roam the Vikings' island, just the worst.
The exhilarated boy paused at the crack in the wall that lead to the outside and looked back one last time at the Night Fury -no- Toothless. The said dragon was watching him thoughtfully. Was it possible they were more intelligent than Vikings originally thought? Hiccup left with more questions than answers. His original problems had been eclipsed by new ones.
All done! Yay new story! Hope you all like it, I know it's sort of just re-cap right now, but it will be completely different very soon. Leave me a review!