Hi! I know this fanfic is finished, but I was wondering if any of you would be interested in me re-writing it? I've been trying to get back into writing for HTTYD and I have some things I would definitely change about this fic. So... what do you think?
Unformatted text is narration for now, but will represent Norse in the future.
Italicized text is Irish dialogue.
Underlined text will be used for Dragonese in the future.
Bold text will be used to emphasize things, so that I don't get any of the languages messed up (italics would make it a little unclear as to whether or not I mean emphasis or Irish later on)
A usual day for a certain little Irish child tended to consist of helping their parents around the house and exploring the outside world. Living near the beach wasn't uncommon for many people, and Aran was no exception to this. Their days oftentimes sped by with them doing nothing more than dig up sand while searching for seashells and rocks, which they had a beautiful collection of. This collection was oftentimes on display on the table their family ate at, amongst other things.
It was overcast on that specific day, the dark clouds a sure sign of rain. They knew, of course, that it wouldn't do to get caught in the rain, but they also knew that the best shells and stones could be found on rainy days. A promise to their parents that they would be back as soon as the rain fell, and they were dashing out the door, shoulder length red hair bouncing behind them. Aran spent quite a while on the shores, digging at the sand. It had been going just as they expected until they squinted and saw a large, oddly shaped lump moving in the distance. They approached it with little hesitation, as they were only four years old and had no sense of fear for such things.
The dragon was pink with faded brown stripes that had likely been much darker at some point. It looked as if it had been flying a great distance but something interrupted its flight, causing it to crash on the beach. Aran noticed that it looked injured, and was cradling what seemed to be a large rock. They realized it must be an egg, and the dragon was likely a mother. She was digging a hole in spite of the broken wing she sported, and Aran walked closer. A particularly loud step made her hiss in warning, sending Aran what they would call a glare.
Aran stumbled backwards, falling on their bum. They sat there, watching the mother bury her egg in a mound of sand. Her breathing grew more labored by the second as she settled down on the new pile of sand, and Aran felt that she would likely die soon, just like their grandmother had the previous month. Sad, pained warbles rang out when she moved, her wing in pain along with her other injuries Aran couldn't see. They got closer and she hissed again, trying to stand and fend them off, but she was in too much pain, resulting in her collapsing once more. Aran continued their approach and sat by her head, resting their small, soft, freckled hand on her large, hard, striped scales.
"Don't cry." They mumbled, leaning down to rest their head on hers.
The hostility she'd held before all but disappeared at this act, as she no longer saw the human as a threat. She closed her eyes, seeming to leave the living world, but they shot open once more, revealing the milky white orbs that look strangely natural. Despite the obvious pain she was in, she forced herself to stand, moving off of the lump of sand made by her egg. She pawed at it and inclined her head, letting out a hopeful whine. At Aran's show of confusion, she dug up the egg, rolling it towards them.
"You want me to raise it?"
Her pink head nudged the egg closer to them, and she nodded. Aran held the smooth, speckled egg in their lap, noticing that despite the multitude of injuries its mother had, the surface hadn't a single blemish. She curled up the best she could at Aran's nod, and let out a quiet warble. The human stayed with her until they felt rain on their pale skin. They stood, and the mother's eyes followed. Aran smiled sadly at the dying dragon before turning around and walking away, back to the cottage their mother and father raised them in. When they walked through the door, they were greeted by a hug from their mother.
"And what's this?" She questioned, taking the egg. "It looks like a big pebble!" Aran shook their head.
"It's a dragon baby!" Their father turned to look at them.
"An egg?" Aran nodded.
"The mama is out on the beach, but I think she's dead. Like gram." They took the egg back.
"Well, welcome to the family, little pebble." Aran's mother smiled.
"Méaróg is my new baby sibling!" They cheered, hugging the egg.
It was fortunate that their parents were accepting enough to take in one of those who often decimate large villages. Otherwise, the story would have definitely taken a different route.
Word Count: 771
Note that Aran is genderfluid, so I'll be switching between they/them and he/him pronouns whenever I feel like it haha. Generally, when he's feeling more masculine, he'll have his hair in a ponytail, and when they're feeling more neutral, they'll just leave it down at shoulder length. I'm not gonna bother describing that every time I switch pronouns, so I'm just letting you know right now.
Anyways, this is a little update! I just realized that I never really DESCRIBED Aran at all in this fic? So I went through to see what I can do. I'm going to draw Aran and make that the cover of this fic, but until then, just bear with me, and check out the revised chapters. In addition to including what Aran looks like, I'm trying to describe situations in general better, so... Anyways, you don't have to but you can.
And if you're a new reader, well, I'm glad to have you!