NOTE: Some of the movie dialogue will not be exact because I can't remember it. So I'll try to be as close as possible.
"How To Train Your Dragon" and its characters © DreamWorks Animation and Cressida Cowell
Not A Warrior
Hiccup's POV
The lump in my throat was un-swallowable . . . if that was even a word.
I stared at the measly stone wall that separated me from the Kill Arena. No way could I do this. I already had a plan, so why worry so much? This wouldn't be spontaneous. But it was the action of doing it that filled me with dread.
Dad was right outside. So was the entire village of Berk, but even if it had been just Dad, I'd still be as nervous. My hands wrung the breastplate helmet once worn by my mother. The horns were smooth, the metal cold to the touch. I wondered if she was disappointed in me, wherever she was.
Outside, I heard the cheers of my name: "Hic-cup! Hic-cup!"
Ah, how my Viking tribe could be supportive.
"Hiccup."
The stating of my name, now quiet and close, made me turn. "Astrid?"
She was looking at me with true anxiety. I knew she was as nervous for this outcome as much as I was. "Be careful with that dragon," she said.
I sighed heavily and attempted swallowing again. No dice. "It's not the dragon I'm worried about." I grimaced.
"What are you gonna do?" she asked.
"Put an end to this. I have to try." I looked at her seriously. "Astrid, if something goes wrong . . . just make sure they don't find Toothless."
"I will," said Astrid solemnly. "Just . . . just promise me it won't go wrong."
I can't promise that, I thought, because there's no guarantee. "I'll try."
She nodded, and Gobber came up from behind her and told me, "Time to go, Hiccup."
I nodded and glanced one last time at Astrid before putting the helmet over my messy reddish-brown hair and starting out into the Arena.
The cheers and shouts of my name became much more distinct and loud as I entered the circle. The sunlight cut through the holes of chains that acted as a ceiling to this place of death. My eyes found my dad in the huge crowd watching safely behind high walls and looped chains. He sat in his chair, with a perfect view. His eyes were shining, his lips pulled up in a smile of pure pride. The first time I'd ever seen that. Er, second, because he was smiling like that when he returned from the expedition for the Dragon Nest.
Pride. Because I was in this Arena. I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, knew for a sure-fire fact that I was not a warrior. Apparently, Dad didn't. He was probably expecting me to grow a sudden shipment of muscles in the next five seconds.
Sorry to disappoint, Dad.
Silently, I went to the rack of weapons and shields set up for my choosing. A hammer, a few swords, a shield. I selected a shield and a small dagger—much like the one now sitting in the bottom of the lake in the Cove—and adjusted my helmet, making it so that it wouldn't fall into my eyes. Then I faced the door that held my "enemy."
"I'm ready," I said in a loud, yet cracking, voice.
Gobber nodded and released the two iron columns that held back the dragon. One they were gone, the Monstrous Nightmare barged the doors open and caught aflame, growling and shooting random balls of fire at the audience, who managed to dodge the attacks.
The Monstrous Nightmare realized I was the opposing fighter and growled at me, taking gigantic steps toward me. My palms went slick with sweat, and my dagger almost fell out of my hand.
Focus. You know what to do.
"Give it to him, Hiccup!" someone shouted.
"Right where it hurts!" said another.
Oh, the irony. Odin really liked ticking me off, didn't he?
I stared calmly as the Monstrous Nightmare got closer, not making any sudden moves. (Obviously, that didn't do any good.) As it approached, I dropped my shield and dagger, extending my left hand to show the dragon I was weaponless.
Murmurs of "What's he doing?" and "What's going on?" arose from the crowd. I looked straight at Dad. His eyes were questioning, with that cautioning expression he wore during battles.
I met the Monstrous Nightmare's huge eyes.
"I'm not one of them," I said bitterly, throwing Mom's helmet to the ground.
Shocked intakes of breath. Something was amiss. (Aren't Vikings just the most observant people?)
"Hiccup . . ." Dad cautioned dangerously from his chair. "What's the meaning of this?"
"I have something to show you all," I said, holding an unflinching gaze to my father. "We don't have to fight dragons. It's all a big misunderstanding."
"Stop the fight," growled Dad.
"This is something you all have to see," I added, and then slowly stretched my hand toward the Monstrous Nightmare.
"Stop the fight!" thundered Dad suddenly, bursting up from his seat.
That did it.
Ugh, I was so close! The Monstrous Nightmare had been at ease only seconds before Dad's eruption, and then the trance of serenity I had over him broke like glass against stone. My body moved for me, consciously knowing he would snap, just as he began an assault.
And so I did what I do best: I ran for my life.
My steps were extemporaneous, and I knew it didn't really matter where I went, as long as I was out of range. But the Monstrous Nightmares had keen eyes, being able to detect their victim's movements and body heat. Fire swooped by everywhere as the dragon tried blasting me when swishing its tail didn't work. I prayed to the gods that I wouldn't stumble. Stumbling equaled a captured death. Or, if I had to stumble, let me get back up in time to not get roasted.
I heard Astrid screech my name. Then she was in the Arena with me, throwing the Monstrous Nightmare off with two options for prey. It chose her and started a small chase before Dad yanked the gate open and yelled for us to run to him.
Astrid made it to him, but as I came up to the gate doorway, a blast from behind me caught onto the side and forced me to turn. As I fumbled away, the Monstrous Nightmare lunged and had me under a thin, razor-like claw. I winced and held my clenched fists to my face, teeth gritted to keep from freaking out verbally. Instead, I allowed my insides to twist and spin like a storm was brewing, my heart rising to join the lump in my throat and my stomach taking a trip to visit my ankles.
The dragon looked me over, contemplating how the kill should proceed. Quick and painless? Slow and agonizing? I hoped for the former, for I didn't want my last moments spent in a sea of pain. (Who did?)
Well, this didn't go as planned, I thought weakly, gazing up into the bulging eyes of my to-be-killer.
Then the Monstrous Nightmare was knocked away from me. Before I had a chance to blink, I realized a black, zipping dot was squabbling with the Nightmare, snarling ferociously, like it'd been insulted. Toothless!
(Yeah, I was just as observant as my advanced tribe.)
Stunned, I watched Toothless break off from the Nightmare and stand in front of me protectively, toxic green eyes whipping from side to side, catching all movement like it was a mini-explosion. He still wore the saddle equipment I'd made.
In front of all the villagers of Berk.
Hopefully, they wouldn't notice my handiwork too quickly.
Shouts of "Night Fury, get down!" rang out among the surrounding throngs. Foolish Vikings jumped down, wielding axes and hammers and militant expressions.
"Toothless," I said in a hushed voice, grabbing his head so get close to his ear. "Go now, Toothless, get out of here!"
One Viking swung an axe down, and my dragon with the huge green eyes snapped in a way I'd never seen before.
Toothless growled and viciously started an attack, swiping his long, night-colored tail into the guts of Vikings, using his claws to slash and dice at armor and eyes. Deep snarls of fury escaped his throat, his pupils long and thin, almost crazed.
It was becoming too much. "Toothless, no! Calm down!" I yelled, trying to get close to my scaled friend as he attacked on my behalf. He was considering all the Vikings threats to me. Oh, Thor almighty! Why must he be so overprotective? He acted possessive around tiny Terrors about fish; but this was insane!
Dad came barging into the Arena, his axe clutched in his mammoth fist. To my horror, he charged my dragon, and Toothless reacted with rage, pinning my dad to the ground. He was ready for the kill. He would be willing for the kill for me.
"Toothless . . ." My voice caught a pleading tone. Narrowing my eyes, I yelled as loud and as hard as I could, "NO!"
Toothless's ears perked slightly and he turned his head to face me. His wings relaxed. The black fire in his eyes dimmed, the terribly thin pupils dilating back to normal. He stepped off my father, and I felt my muscles retract and not be so tense . . .
. . . but only for a moment. Six Vikings were on Toothless like dents on Thor's mighty hammer. I tried running to him, to help, to tell them to get off my reptilian friend, but someone was holding me back. I whipped my head to see sapphire irises. Astrid.
Dad, looking a tad shaken from almost having his face blasted off, turned to glare at me. And suddenly, everyone was, piercing glares sharper than the Deadly Nadders' spikes. My eyes hit the ground.
"Hiccup." Dad's tone was barely contained. "We need to chat."
XxX
"I should have known. I should have seen the signs!"
I stumbled behind my father, trying to grasp something, like his hand, to stop him. He had stormed into the main hall and wasn't even turning to look at me, like my direction was cursed.
"Dad, please, let me explain," I begged, wanting to tear my hair out.
"We had a deal!"
"This wasn't intentional! By the time…and then you came back…and it was too late… Ugh, this is so messed up!" I held my head in my hands.
"So everything in the ring?" he asked, incredulous. "A trick? A lie!"
"I screwed up. I should have told you before now. Just…take this out on me, be mad at me, but please…just don't hurt Toothless!" I said, desperate.
"The dragon?" Dad's face twisted in disgust. "That's what you're worried about? Not the people you almost killed?"
"He was just protecting me!" I managed to grab his hand and look him in the eye. "He's not dangerous!"
"Just how did this happen?!" he snapped. "I don't ask a lot, Hiccup. These things are blood-thirsty demons! They've killed hundreds of us!"
"And we've killed thousands of them!" I retorted angrily. "Dad, listen—they only defend themselves! If they don't listen to the Queen, then they'll be eaten themselves! They have no choice!"
As soon as the words left my mouth, realization hit hard.
Dad noticed. His lips departed in disbelief and he said, "Their island? You've been to the nest?"
"Did I say nest?" I was such an idiot!
"How did you find it?" Dad demanded.
"Erm, uh, well, I—" I stammered. "But not really me, it can only be found by a dragon, and—" I halted in my explanation, seeing his face light up grimly. "NO," I told him frantically. "No, Dad, no, no! You have no idea what you're getting into! You can't win! It's like nothing you've ever seen!" As he continued to ignore my pleas, just walking gruffly to the door, something inside me couldn't take it anymore. "DAD! For once in your life, just listen to me!"
I grabbed his arm, and he shoved me back harshly. I fell to the cold, unforgiving floor. And as I looked up in shock, I locked with his cold, unforgiving eyes.
"You've thrown your lot in with them. You're not a Viking," he said, echoing the voice of a stranger. But it cracked. "You're not my son."
Then he walked out into the broad, yet rare, sunlit day with a roar of "READY THE SHIPS!" and left me in the dark.