Inspiration from Book 1 in the series by Cressida Cowell. I do not own these characters or events, all work belongs to Ms. Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks Animation. There are a few disturbing images in this piece, hence the rating. Spoiler, but there is a character death. Please read/review/enjoy/criticize!
Hiccup stared. This was not real. It couldn't be. No! It wasn't! This would not be how it ended!
"He's mine, Hiccup!" Dagur threatened from the mast. "The Night Fury's mine!"
"Actually, I don't think so. Not in a million years. Toothless, now!"
As ordered, the Night Fury fired plasma at the Berserker ship. Anyone who threatened war on Berk's very shores, just to skin a Night Fury, would be dealt with. Severely.
The ship lit up into flames, brilliantly shining. The gasping cries of Berserker soldiers hissed through the evening air as they hurtled themselves into the sea. Of course, there were at least a dozen more ships behind this one, armed with catapults and archers, but the crew of this one swam for their lives.
Hiccup knew that he couldn't take this armada alone, though seeing Dagur helpless and defeated by him alone gave him wonderful pride. He retreated, his eyes focused on the village he aimed for; the village that was preparing for war.
"Dragon riders mount up!" Hiccup ordered, the volume of his voice surprising him.
They were already mounted, which shouldn't have surprised him. The Viking warriors were also armed and ready, faces holding the desire of enemy blood; the enemy who dare threaten their brethren. Stoick the Vast, father of Hiccup, stood at the head, sword drawn and gaze fixed on his son.
"How many are there?" Stoick demanded.
Toothless landed by Stoick, making father and son eye-level. "There's a dozen ships out there. They're serious this time."
"I don't believe even Dagur would be so stupid to have six ships attacking only one spot on the island," Stoick muttered, half to himself half to his son. He turned to his people. "Group Thor follow me to the beach. Dragons are under Hiccup's command; you will attack the ships. Group Odin and Group Ullr to the back of the island with Spitelout and Gobber. Be ready for anything, expect anything! Berk will never fall into enemy hands!"
The uproarious cry thundered the Vikings' eagerness to fight, and with a nod from the chief, Hiccup and Toothless soared to the sky, his five friends and ten new recruits following behind.
Hiccup turned to his soldiers and ordered, "Hit their catapults first. If they can't fire, they can't fight back, and we win."
Knowing the men and women would obey him, Hiccup searched for Dagur on the ships; Dagur was on the back ship and had seemingly taken command. Their eyes met for one quick moment, both alight with deadly fury; one for the obsessive lust for a dragon's skin, and the other with a fueled, protective love for the dragon.
Dagur held his fist in the air and shot it forward. "Fire!"
Hiccup shook his head. This was impossible. It couldn't have happened like this! No! This didn't happen!
The rocks hissed past Hiccup's ears as Toothless dodged them. He couldn't fire at them, not yet, not until they reloaded. He had to hurry though. Fast. The ships were almost to the shore. It almost mocked him. The short distance between home and invader laughed in his face.
The lustful cry of Dagur shrieked, "He's mine, Hiccup the Useless! The dragon is mine!"
This only ignited Hiccup's protective love more. Though battle fires cracked and war cries howled, he patiently waited until the enemy reloaded their catapults.
Around him, dragons and riders fell, hit by boulders. Was that Nadder that fell...no! Keep your mind on the battle, he told himself.
"Hiccup!" someone shouted at him. "They've gotten better at shooting!"
The voice was suddenly recognizable through the chaos of war. "I know, Snotlout! Keep fighting!"
Toothless fired at a vulnerable ship, exploding the hull and sinking the vessel. Unfortunately, Dagur was not on it.
He still screamed, "The Night Fury is mine! The head is mine!"
Hiccup snorted. "I don't think so."
Hands laid themselves on Hiccup's shoulders in distraught comfort. No matter how many voices beckoned him away from the scene, his eyes were still glued to the blood surrounding him.
There were only three ships left. Hiccup rejoiced inwardly at this, but knew that Dagur had an evil ulterior attack.
It was the sense of loss around him that made Hiccup realize his own numbers. What was once fifteen dragons were now seven. The ocean below him carried a horrid mess of unconscious riders, swimming dragons, and soldiers battling, treading the water.
He summoned the courage buried in his heart and screamed. "Attack!"
The Night Fury dove, the eerie scream of his belly mixing plasma turning Dagur's head to him. The fool still hadn't been hit somehow.
This time, he was.
The ship caught flames quicker than the others had and the warriors fled the fire, diving into the ocean. Hiccup noticed the red head who swam faster than any of the others away from his doom. The chief of the Berserkers was a full-fledged coward.
His father's war cry summoned Hiccup's attention. The other two ships had reached the shore. Berserker warriors clashed with his father's troupe in a bloody battle.
Hiccup turned his head, desperately looking for dragons still in the air. Ruff, Tuff, 'Legs, Sven, and Olaf soared behind him. Hiccup could've jumped for joy when he saw Astrid behind those six, but refrained; he had more pressing matters.
Hiccup ordered, "Ruff, Tuff, Sven, go see if Team Odin and Team Ullr need help. We'll finish up here."
The Zippleback and Monstrous Nightmare fled, riders voicing obedience.
Hiccup, breathing through clenched teeth, looked below him to the battle on the beach.
"Charge!"
Time stopped. It couldn't go on. Not for Hiccup. He wouldn't want it to. Even as Astrid tried to pull him away, he yelled, "No!" He inched forward, knowing that touching the sight would prove its reality, even if he didn't want it to.
The battle raged on.
One detail captured Hiccup's gaze, however. A Viking lay dead on the beach with a metal arrow impaled in his abdomen.
Another arrow pierced a Viking; it too was metal.
Hiccup looked to the location of shooting and detested what he saw. Hate filled his heart, boiling up to his head so a murderous cry shouted across the ocean. Dagur stood atop one of Berk's cliffs, shooting Berk's people with a powerful crossbow. Amidst the calamities and chaos, Dagur had scaled the edge, seizing the distraction of Hiccup as an advantage. Now, he shot Hiccup's people.
"No!" Hiccup pleaded.
Toothless sensed his friend's desire and soared to the devil known as Dagur.
They only flew a few feet before something slammed into their left side. A boulder shot from a catapult, Hiccup realized immediately, but he could do nothing about it.
He was thrown off of Toothless and panicked at the separation. Less than a second later, he crashed onto the rocks, tumbling down a rocky gorge until landing on the soft sand. He felt blood drip from his head and he felt faint.
He stared at Dagur on the cliff, knowing what would happen. Hiccup was in range of the crossbow and Dagur knew it.
Dagur smiled maliciously, aimed his crossbow, and shot.
Hiccup remembered those moments too well. They all happened so fast, in less than a second, but he remembered every detail. He didn't want the moments to replay in his mind, but they helplessly did as Hiccup stroked the arrow meant for him.
"No! Son!" That could've been only one person and Hiccup knew it. Stoick saw the danger.
What Hiccup interpreted as a shield flew past him, accompanied by a high-pitched roar he should've known, and darkness. What seemed like unconsciousness was only a blink, and when Hiccup opened his eyes, Dagur was on fire. Fishlegs and Meatlug circled the cliff, guarding their hostage, while Snotlout and Hookfang hovered over top. Hookfang licked his lips, removing excess fire. Dagur's screams sent shivers up Hiccup's spine.
Berk men and Berserker men turned their heads to see the Deranged Dagur dancing in pain, flames scorching his body. In a desperate plea for relief, Dagur flew himself into the ocean, but instead landed on pointed rocks. The sharp crack alone pronounced his death.
Silence. That's what everyone heard. No dragons roared, no swords clashed, no cries of death; it was all silent when Dagur fell.
Maybe it was the shock of their impossible loss, or the grief of their leader's death, or the guarantee of destruction. Either way, the Berserkers and converted Outcasts dropped their swords in defeat.
"We surrender," Savage murmured in humiliation. The silence made his quiet murmur seem a shout.
"Good," Stoick hissed. "You will face your doom."
Hiccup watched this from his injured position next to the cliff. He regained some alertness, so he propped himself up on his elbow. One look at the blood where his head used to be immediately said that moving was a bad idea.
Stoick raced to him and felt his head. Frantically, Stoick bandaged it with fabric torn from his shirt. "Are you alright?"
"Fine." Hiccup fingered the bandage, thankful for his dad and the fatherly protection.
"Are you sure?"
"Well, is my right foot gone?" Hiccup smiled a teeny bit.
Stoick chuckled. "That's it. I've heard enough. You're your normal self."
"Chief!" Someone ran up behind him. "We just received word from the other side of the island. Dagur had another armada prepared but we discovered it before they could attack. With the help of the dragons, our troops have won a gallant victory."
Stoick heartily laughed. He shouted, "Victory! We have victory!"
Hiccup pumped a fist. "Yay." Hiccup stared at the sky, thankful that the beautiful sunset rays were peaceful and calm. It helped him forget his near-death experience. "I saw a shield fly above me before Dagur shot..."
"That was me," Stoick admitted. "I saw the arrow and I threw my shield to save you. I think it did. The arrow's nowhere around here. Toothless leapt over you too, trying to protect you. That dragon is incredible."
Hiccup smiled in pride, knowing the truth full well. But his father's statement alerted a small fear. "Where's Toothless?"
Stoick started, first realizing the absence of the Night Fury. "I-I don't know."
Hiccup shakily stood up, oblivious to his father's and his body's warnings. He walked forward a bit and shouted, "Toothless! Toothless! Where are ya, bud?"
He walked to his right, where a wall of small boulders seemed to shelter a longer strip of the beach. The shield his father threw rested against the wall, but no arrow had stabbed it. Hiccup's curiousness stirred, but he'd figure out what happened to the arrow later. Right now, his friend was missing.
He climbed boulders, innocently searching for his best friend. "Tooth..."
What he saw over the wall shocked him, but he didn't scream, didn't cry, and didn't move. He just stared.
Hiccup clutched the arrow in his hands, shaking. If he could disintegrate this arrow with wish alone, he would have, and it would've been possible.
But it wasn't.
His gaze darted back and forth between the arrow and the wound. The blood of his friend should've made him sick to his stomach, so why didn't he hurl? Why didn't he weep? Why couldn't he say anything?
Ignoring the comforting voices of the people surrounding him, Hiccup crawled to the head.
He clutched it, hating the sight of closed eyes that would never open again.
Those vivid, green, playful, daring, threatening, loving eyes that Hiccup would never see again!
This was his best friend he held, the dragon who saved him, spared his life, played with him, taught him about friendship and sacrificial love. Hiccup held Toothless.
He stared at the wound caused by the arrow. The arrow that killed his best friend; the arrow shot by Dagur; the arrow meant for him!
"He saved me," Hiccup murmured, trapped in his own realization. "And now he's dead."
As if this comment stirred the grief screaming to explode inside of him, Hiccup hugged Toothless's limp head harder. Then he screamed.
And he continued screaming, the howl shouting grief across his home, and all knew what had happened. Tears rained down Hiccup's cheeks and pattered onto Toothless's lifeless body. Hiccup grieved until he couldn't anymore.
His best friend was gone.