In celebration of the recently released "Gift of the Night Fury" (Which was one the most adorable things I've seen in my life) I'm posting this! I've been working on it for awhile, and the first few chapters are done. Hopefully that will help me keep up with it. I know there are already "Hiccup is raised by dragons" stories out there, but I'm hoping this one will be a little different. I haven't really read any of them anyway, I didn't want to accidentally copy anything.

I hope you enjoy, R&R please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this particular fic, and a few OCs.


Umbra sighed tiredly as she flew over the sea looking for fish to feed her hatchling. It was a rare occasion indeed that she could nourish him properly. The wretched beast that dare call herself queen always took the best of whatever her subjects caught, leaving nothing but the barest of scraps for them. It made her blood boil to think that such a gluttonous animal was leader, but what could she do? She was only one Night Fury, and while her breed was a mighty one she was not foolish enough to think that she could defeat the queen alone.

She had tried to rouse her fellow dragons to action, but they were all too afraid. Even the Monstrous Nightmares! They all were just as tired of those horrible raids the queen made them go on every month. They could have brought her fish, seals, even a whale if enough carried it. But no, not good enough! She had to have stolen meat from a people whose only crime was to settle too close to her territory's border for her comfort. Innocent blood spilled on both sides over sheep. Sickening. Her fellow dragons did agree that what they were being forced to do was wrong.

But apparently fear outweighs guilt.

So all she could do for now was survive, and sneak out whenever she could to find extra food for her child. Speaking of which...

SPLASH!

Ah, a perfect catch! This would keep her child's belly full for a few days! That at least lifted her spirit. She turned and headed back toward home. She made sure to keep low so no one would see her with the sizable catch.

As she came nearer to the island's shore line, her ears perked up at an odd squeaky wail. Her first thought was that seals had invaded the island's beaches again, but as she focused on it she quickly realized that seals did not make that peculiar sound. Curiosity peaked, she veered towards the sound to investigate.

Landing softly on the beach, she sniffed the air, and scanned the area. She didn't notice anything amiss... Until her eyes fell on a strangely shaped stone. At least that's what she thought it was, but then she realized that the odd sound was coming from the stone. Stones did not wail.

Warily, she walked over to it. It did not move to attack, so she poked it lightly with her tail. It squirmed. This was definitely no stone. It was much too... Squishy. She had felt something like this once before, long ago when she was still free. When she had snuck into a human village, she had stumbled upon this substance. She believed it was called 'cloth', they used it to make up for their lack of fur, and often wrapped their...

A terrible thought hit her. She prayed she was wrong but she had to see. She gently used one of her claws to open the cloth little by little. Finally she lifted the last fold, and gasped.

"Oh my..."

In the pile of cloth before her, lay a tiny hatchling. A human hatchling.

"How did you get here?" she wondered out loud. She leaned down to sniff it, and discovered that it was male. He looked up at her with a pair of lovely emerald eyes, giggled, and started to grab at her snout. She smiled warmly at him; no mater what species they came from hatchlings were adorable. She sniffed him again, trying to deduce where he had come from. She could just pick up the faint smell that reminded her of a northern forest, but that scent had been beaten down by another: The ocean, nearly being drowned in it.

This baffled her. What would a human - especially an infant one - be doing out in the ocean? She scanned the horizon for any sign of those strange hollowed out logs ('Boats'?) humans would sometimes travel in. But she saw no sign of one. Surely, had there been a wreck there would be debris floating about too. But there was none... What could this mean?

Could it be that this hatchling had been... Abandoned? The very notion made her blood cold, but she could see no other answer. This lead to a new question though: why? Why had this hatchling been discarded? There was nothing wrong with him that she could detect. Did his mother simply not want a child? Had she been so cowardly as to just toss her own offspring into the sea, rather than take the responsibility? What a revolting creature.

But perhaps that wasn't entirely the case. Perhaps the female was mad, she had seen it before. Not long after her enslavement she had seen a female Zipple Back tossing her own eggs over a cliff. The poor female was sobbing hysterically that she wouldn't let The Queen have them. When the last egg hit the water the female collapsed and wailed in her grief stricken madness. The Queen had eaten her the very next day.

So it was possible that this hatchling's mother had lost her sanity, for whatever reason.

But the reasons really didn't mater much, they all had the same end. The hatchling was clearly only a few days old, he certainly couldn't fend for himself... He would die. That couldn't be allowed to happen. She supposed that she should take him to a human village, they would know what to do with him. But she knew some human cultures didn't treat orphans with much kindness. What if she ended up dropping him into a life of hunger and beatings? That was hardly acceptable.

Perhaps... she could adopt him then? The idea nearly made her question her own sanity. She knew very little if anything about how humans raised their young. But the hatchling was alone, and she felt so much compassion for him... But what if-

The hatchling suddenly giggled and grabbed for her ears.

Oh he was adorable! That was it, her mind was set. Being abandoned twice would surely damage him anyway, even if he was very young.

Since she already had to carry a fish in her mouth, she carefully cradled him in her front paws. It would be an awkward flight, but it was the most logical way. She crouched down, spread her wings and took off. She had expected the hatchling to start crying from the movement, but he simply curled into her, radiating contentment.

If that wasn't a sign from the gods, nothing was.

Now all she had to worry about was whether her blood hatchling would accept this.