A/N: This will be my take on the next installment of How to Train Your Dragon, taking place a couple of months after the end of the 2nd film. If you're reading and you like it, and want to see more, please drop me a review to let me know. I hope you enjoy it!
This… is Berk. It's quite the desolate place, and it's easier to freeze to death here than it is to actually live. But our dragons make life here a whole lot more pleasant. And once we repaired the damage from the battle with Drago Bludvist and his dragon army, things were looking up, if I do say so myself.
By the way, I'm Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, although these days I go by Hiccup the Useful. Gobber said I needed to choose a title when I was made Chief of the Hairy Hooligans, and "the Useful" seemed like a good name to live up to. And after having been considered utterly useless as a Viking for the longest time, it carries some poetic justice as well. But choosing an easy title doesn't mean I don't still have the legacy of my father, Stoick the Vast, to live up to.
"Hiccup!" comes a distant cry, just as I'm about to sit down to breakfast.
"Ohh gods," I groan.
Mom, who's already seated, chuckles. "Berk needs its Chief," she says.
Rolling my eyes, I turn to the door just as it bursts open to reveal a panting Sven. "What is it this time?" I ask. "Did Birger's sheep run away again? No, wait. Don't tell me. The twins started a brawl in the Great Hall."
Sven's eyes widen at the hypothetical calamities. Apparently, he's missed my sarcasm entirely. (Honestly, why do I even try.) "No, Hiccup! It's the new dragons! They're starting fights in the stables again."
"I wasn't that far off." I grab my old horned helmet, my flaming sword, and my Zippleback gas canister, which feels too light in my hand. "Gonna have to refill this soon," I note, tucking the tools into their pockets in my leather armor. I step out into the sunlight, and immediately feel the frigid air on my face. It's a glorious day for a ride. "Maybe later we can squeeze in some time to work on solo gliding, bud," I say as I mount Toothless. He grunts back in exasperation, clearly hoping we won't have time for any stunts.
Sven gets on Tanghook [1], his Monstrous Nightmare, and we head off toward the stables. Toothless flies a little slower than he needs to, and, really, I can't blame him. Being in the sky beats whatever's waiting for us on land.
As soon as the stables come into view, I can see that Sven's panic wasn't unwarranted. This fight is unlike any we've had before. Jets of fire and plumes of smoke are spilling out of the openings. A deafening din of dragon roars fills the air. We land and a Terrible Terror flies past my head, giving my spaulder a taste of his firepower. Just another day on the job.
I approach the scene at a jog, and the mayhem is even worse up close. Dozens of the dragons that we freed from Drago's dragon army are flying about, spewing flame at the ones that have been settled here for years. They in turn are trying to defend their favorite spots from the hostile newcomers. "Oh, Thor," I whisper, trying to find where to start. Needing to get their attention, I run into the middle of the fight and release all the green gas left in my canister, and spark it. The explosion draws their eyes and ears to me. Taking advantage, I approach the closest dragon, a Deadly Nadder, and try to calm him. But the others quickly lose interest, and get back to their squabble, drawing my Nadder with them. This isn't working.
Covering my face with my arms to block the flames, I come back out to where a solid crowd has gathered. Friendly faces like Gobber, Mulch, and Bucket are interspersed with more skeptical ones. "Whaddya say we do, Hiccup?" asks Eerika, and other villagers echo her concern.
Looking back to where the dragons are all set to destroy their lodgings, I make a decision. "Everyone whose dragons are in there, mount up," I call. "We need to clear some room inside so we can calm the new dragons down."
"Aye. You got it, Chief," says Gobber, and makes his way into the cave that's basically become a furnace now. "C'mon Grump. Give yer old man a ride around the village." Others follow suit. Gothi waves her staff at the Terrible Terrors, deliberately knocking a few of them in the head with it, and they follow her out towards her house. And just like that half of the stables are cleared out, leaving only our newest dragon citizens behind. Happy to claim the now unoccupied stables, the rowdy bunch fly about inspecting the lodgings.
"Alright, fellas." I draw my sword, lit dazzlingly by trusty Monstrous Nightmare gel. They're drawn to it, and slow down their flying to watch me. I lead them over to one side of the cave, but they're still restless. "What's agitating them?" I wonder out loud. In the light of my sword I notice a green glint from the opposite end of the cave, close to where the fight had been centered. Is that…
"Stay," I say to the dragons, kindly but firmly. I back away a few steps before retracting the blade, then turn and walk over to where I saw the flash of green. And there, hidden under some rocks, just as I suspected, is dragon root. I've seen bigger chunks of it, but this one has been chopped up, exposing much more of it to the dragons. Behind me, they're starting to roar again. I run back out and mount Toothless. "Take some dragon nip in there and spread it around the dragons," I tell the remaining Vikings standing by.
"It's dragon root, bud. We gotta get it out of there." We take off, and Toothless growls. "I don't know how it got there either. It looks like a prank. Remind me to ask the twins about it later." Because normally, I leave them alone to their business, but it's too early (in the day and in the year) for Loki Day practical jokes.
We fly straight to the dragon training academy. We need a dragon to help us haul all those bits and dump them somewhere off the island. And a certain Fishlegs has the best-trained Gronckel on Berk - the only dragon breed immune to dragon root. Fishlegs and Snotlout had taken over the job of running the Academy when I embarked on my project of charting faraway lands. Once I became chief, there was no question of making time to train new riders, so they kept their new positions.
As we near the Academy, Fishlegs and Snotlout come into view, alone. The new trainees must not have arrived yet. My friends are clearly in the middle of a heated debate, all pointing fingers and withering looks. "Ohh gods," I mutter. Some things never change. They realize they have company just as we're about to land, and they break off, faces quite red. "Hello Snotlout, Fishlegs. Having a good morning?"
"I'm stuck here with this guy, who thinks letting Monstrous Nightmares loose on the kids on their first day is a good idea," complains Fishlegs.
"Hey! It's what Gobber did to us, and look how we turned out."
"I'd rather not look at how you turned out, Snotlout."
"Aand that's enough," I interrupt. "I'm about to make your morning a whole lot more eventful. Dragon root. In the stables."
"What? That's disastrous! There are hundreds of dragons in there! They'll all go berserk! Hiccup! How did it get in there? When did this happen?"
"Calm down, Fishlegs. I've gotten a lot of dragons out. We just need to calm the new ones."
"Yeah, Fishlegs. Calm yourself. This is a job for the Snotman."
Do some things really never change? "Need I remind you, Snotlout, that Hookfang is already temperamental, and is not immune to dragon root? Unlike Meatlug?" At the mention of her name, Fishlegs's sweet-tempered Gronckel flies over on her tiny wings and gives me a lick. "Hi girl," I chuckle, rubbing her snout. Toothless grunts indignantly behind me. I usually get upset when he licks me, because it doesn't wash out. I don't have the same problem with Gronckels, and he knows this very well; so I ignore him. "We've got a job for you, Meatlug." She snorts happily, glad to be of use. "Snotlout, you wait here for the new recruits while I take Fishlegs and Meatlug to the stables."
"And don't set any dragons loose on them before I get back," adds Fishlegs.
Snotlout scoffs, but doesn't object, so we head back to the cave. Somehow, things are worse than before. With more room to maneuver, the dragons are ready to tear each other's' throats out.
"Now, Meatlug!" commands Fishlegs, and she flies in, dodging the warring beasts skillfully. She lands by the dragon root and scoops the pieces into her vast mouth. Once the others realize what she's doing however, they try to pull her back. I can't take Toothless in there or he'll just join the madness. "Plasma blast," I tell him instead, and he shoots near Meatlug's feet, scattering her attackers. "Good job, bud." A Night Fury never misses.
"Thanks, Hiccup," shouts Fishlegs, and Meatlug takes off. Once they're back from dumping the offending root into the ocean, where it can't wash back onto our shores, Fishlegs turns to me. "Who do you think could have done this?"
"Who else?"
"You think it was the twins? I don't know, Hiccup. It seems kind of malicious to do something like that on purpose. I feel it was either someone naive who didn't know what the root can do to dragons, or someone who really wanted to cause trouble."
"Probably the former," I dismiss. "Though I wonder where they got it from. It doesn't grow on Berk, and we've been pretty vigilant about not letting it on the island. The last time we had it here was when Mildew was still around." Fishlegs nods concernedly. "Anyway, I'll keep an eye out for any root growing around here. Let's try to organize the stables for now. We'll separate the dragons by breed. They're less likely to be hostile if their roommates are familiar."
So we go in, where the dragons are noticeably calmer, and designate areas for each breed, taking into account their individual size and overall number. Pretty soon, we have signs up telling the dragons where to go. They can recognize the drawings of their respective breeds, and are smart enough to understand what we want from them. I just hope they'll be nice enough to oblige. Still, I'm pretty hopeful. At the most, I'll need to come in and direct them on where to go for a few days, until they pick up on the routine. For now, Toothless, Meatlug, Fishlegs, and I shepherd them into their respective areas. "I'll need you and Snotlout to help out with the others once their riders bring them back," I tell Fishlegs.
"Not a problem, Hiccup," he replies cheerfully. "Meatlug and I will handle it. Right, girl?" Meatlug brings her massive tongue above her head to lick his face.
"With Snotlout and Hookfang," I remind him with a sigh. "It's not a job for a single rider." We take off again, Fishlegs to rejoin Snotlout at the Academy, and I to finish my breakfast.
[1] There are three Monstrous Nightmares in the movies/show who are named: Hookfang, Fanghook (Gustav's dragon), and Girl Hookfang. I find this hilarious, and I'm keeping the tradition of unoriginally naming Monstrous Nightmares in my fic as well, with Tanghook.
A/N: The rest of the gang and other characters will be making appearances as we get further into the story. Let me know what you thought of chapter 1!