How To Train Your Human: Dragon Style
Summary: So here they take the wonderful story of a courageous young Viking and turn it into something more: A human and his dragon. Now we turn it into something even better: A dragon and HIS human. The movie turned into a novelization from Toothless's point of view.
Disclaimer: Oh, I wish I could, but I can't. I don't own HTTYD. SOB.
The Shadowed One crouched at the top of the mountain. His wings were stretched out, as he was about to take flight. It was unnecessary really, he thought. The fight that had been going on for centuries, longer than he could remember. The humans were brave, he would give them that. But it was also stupid.
The Shadowed One took off, hearing the call of his kin. The second wave of dragons rose up behind him, surging forward, a mass of fury and fear combined.
"Shadowed One," a Body Blazer flew behind him, keeping a respectable distance. "Our Queen is angry."
"Do not ask me," the Shadowed One replied. "It is yet beyond my power to control Her. She is not our Queen."
For eternities She had enslaved them, forcing them to do her work, feed her, tend to her. The Shadowed One, although turned up at the Feeding, refused to feed Her. The Queen had made acceptance, as long as he helped in the raids. She had guessed, after killing all his kind in the world he knew, he would refuse to bow down to her completely.
"Yes, Shadowed One," The Body Blazer bowed his head and flew back to his kin, which were swirling around in a massive whirlpool. With a shriek and flameball shot above their heads, the dragons quieted. They stared at the furious Shadowed One, the only sound powerful flaps of wings.
"Listen to yourselves," The Shadowed One growled. "Here we are, enslaved to a Monster, forced to fight Her battles, forced to grow wise before our ages. Yet here you are, snapping like mere hatchlings. Granted, we are still young, but we are wiser than this Is my presence any less daunting than the Queens? We have been told to be silent in the first one-thousand wing-beats of Berk. Yet here we are. I demand nothing more than silence is that too much to ask? And here we are: Berk. You may go."
Subdued by sudden burst of rage, the dragon's flew down, quieter than usual but still loud. The Shadowed One sighed. This blood spilled was completely unnecessary. He hated spilling innocent blood. In this case, they were both innocent.
He knew that when humans looked at them they saw crazed, mindless beasts with an urge to just kill, for blood. Dragons saw humans as stubborn little wasps, never giving up. All they wanted to do was stay alive. And vise-versa. Really, the Shadowed One mused, they should be on the same side, not against each other.
"What are you waiting for?" A Spiked Tail whipped her tailfin in the air, crushing a Viking, as they called themselves, into the dirt. The Shadowed One suppressed a sigh, rising higher into the air. Spreading his wings farther to the air, he shot across the island. From the alignment of his ear-fins to his tail, it made a perfect screeching sound. It filled the air, whipping around his body.
The Shadowed One loved it.
He heard the familiar cries of, "Night Fury!" and "Get down!"
The Vikings had each dubbed them their own name: He was the Night Fury, a perfect name, suiting his domain. He used it to introduce himself; the Shadowed One seemed too old; he was ready for a new start.
This particular trip had him wondering why he preferred Night Fury; after all, humans made it. But then again, why did the Body Blazer prefer Monstrous Nightmare? Or Spiked Tail preferring Deadly Nadder? It remained a mystery, but he kind of understood.
The names dragons had given each other sounded less dangerous; they knew the gentle side. All humans knew of them was large claws, deadly fire, and killing. They of course then named them what would be their elements. Maybe it was just a human mind. Weak as they were, they were not stupid.
The Night Fury felt the gas build at the back of his throat, then released it as a blue flame ball. It hit the tower, knocking it over. He spotted humans jumping down from it – good. Bloodshed was not needed here.
He turned around, hearing the shriek of a 'Deadly Nadder'. It was perched on top of a tower, backed into a corner. Hearing it, he blew a fireball, stunning the Viking and giving the Spiked Tail time to fly off.
Time for the next tower, he thought grimly. Flying off, he saw carnage and destruction all over the small island. A group of Tiny Flamers were pushed up against a wall, blowing fire as they were tested with swords and spears. The Night Fury felt a pang of sympathy as one of them spluttered, and in the moment of indecision the Viking used his axe to slice its head off.
A Body Blazer was burning a body of a Viking. From a sharp roar of a Rock Eater, he stopped and flew off to another fight. Some Vikings were hiding in their houses, shielding hatchling humans and whatnot.
Then suddenly something came hurtling towards him. He recognised it as a 'net' whatever humans called it. It hit him, entangling him in this thin but strong stuff.
A screech tore through his throat as he started falling, unable to break free of his bonds.
A Rock Eater growled after him, "No! Shadowed One!" But he was also brought down in a net.
He flew through the air, ploughing down into the trees. Agony flew up his tail, paralysing him as he cracked a tree right in the middle. He flew up, up in the air, then hit the ground with an almighty thud.
He was in too much pain. It was sending him writhing, horrified howls echoing through his body. Finally it ebbed, leaving him weak and shocked.
"Let me die quickly," he moaned up to the Heavens.
Then he closed his eyes and let the darkness take over.