Opening notestuffs:
If there was a movie/book crossover option for the same story, this would be it. Essentially, I'm taking the basis of the book and applying it to the story of the movie. It's still a WIP, so it might take me a long time to write chapters.
A few pointers about my view on fanfictions: I don't ship, I don't do Mary-Sues or -Stus, and I try to adhere closely to the rules and original personalities of characters.
A few quick notes about this particular fanfic: No, Hrodi is not going to get a Night Fury.
Other than that - read, enjoy, and please review! I'd love to hear some creative feedback!
"Our story starts a long time ago, on this very island, back in the days when Vikings and dragons were locked in wars for hundreds of years. Generations of Vikings had lived and died fighting dragons, and generations of dragons had died fighting Vikings, each side wanting vengeance on the other. Now, legend tells of a—"
"Legend? This is a legend already?"
"Then what's that make you, a fossil?"
"You know, if I spoke to my elders like that when I was a child, I'd be smashed in the head with a hammer! And for someone your size, I think my fist would do just fine…"
"You're just kidding."
"Do you want to find out? … No? Then I'll continue. As I was saying, Legend tells of a young Viking boy named Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the first Viking ever to come face to face with a Night Fury and survive. Now Hiccup, even though he'd previously wanted to be a dragon killer, decided to befriend the Night Fury, and named him Toothless. He and Toothless worked together, their friendship completely hidden from everyone in Berk."
"Except Astrid!"
"Who's telling this story?"
"I bet I could tell it better than you."
"Well I started it, so you'd better just pipe down. So Astrid, a promising dragon killer, found out about Hiccup and Toothless. She agreed not to tell anyone else and let Hiccup show the other Vikings that dragons weren't as dangerous as everyone thought. Then, they found the dragon's nest… and the Green Death. It was the biggest, ugliest, meanest dragon to ever crawl on the face of the earth. Turns out it was controlling the other dragons, forcing them to bring it food – or else it would eat them for breakfast!"
"Oooh, I love this part."
"This part's scary…"
"Stop being a wimp, wimp."
"Hiccup, Astrid, and Toothless went back to Berk to warn the other Vikings, but when they found out, all they wanted to do was storm the nest and drive out the dragons. They managed that, but they also made the Green Death very angry. Just when it seemed like the Green Death would eat every last Viking, Hiccup, Astrid, and the other Viking teens flew in on the backs of their own dragons, astonishing everyone standing on the beach!"
"Hey! You didn't mention my dad!"
"Shut up, Skudlout, no one cares."
"You two had better get real quiet real quick, or I'll—"
"SKUDLOUT HIT ME!"
"DID NOT, YOU WIMPY LYING… PERSON!"
"ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT!" Stoick heaved himself to his feet, storming towards Skudlout and Arni, who quickly forgot about fighting each other and decided to run instead. With a roar, Stoick chased after them, much to the amusement of the rest of the children sitting in a half-circle on the floor of Dragon Hall. Even though Skudlout and Arni weren't the fastest Vikings on Berk, they could easily outrun Stoick, who was never too agile to begin with and was only growing slower as age caught up with him. The two boys even made a game out of it; they would dash ahead and get plenty of distance between them and the angry Viking, then yell out a taunt. Like a bull angered by a red flag, Stoick would charge at them, and Skudlout and Arni would play chicken and see who could last longer in his path.
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock IV, although that was a bit of a mouthful so most people called Hrodi, quickly got impatient. He'd heard Stoick tell stories a thousand million times, but he always enjoyed them and didn't like it when other people interrupted. Of course, every other Viking kid on Berk had the attention span of a Terrible Terror, so interruptions and commentary were standard fare during storytellings. With a sigh, Hrodi got up from the floor, rubbing his legs to try and wake them up from sitting on the hard ground.
"Come on, Val," he said, reaching down to help his little sister up. "Grampa's never going to finish. Let's just go."
Val took Hrodi's hand, keeping her other arm firmly locked around her Basic Brown, Dullfang. Dullfang's front legs stuck out from over Val's arm while his bottom half hung almost halfway to the floor. Despite his position, he didn't seem to mind at all, and Hrodi could've sworn the dragon was actually asleep.
"Why does Skudlout have to ruin everything?" Val pouted as she and Hrodi left Dragon Hall.
Hrodi shrugged. "Because he's Skudlout?" he offered, pulling his jacket closer around him. It was barely the end of summer, and already the weather on Berk had begun its plummet into winter. Low gray clouds had covered the sky for two weeks straight, and the water was almost getting too cold for the dragons to fish in. In a few weeks, they'd be going into hibernation—but not before the laying season.
Ever since Vikings and dragons had learned to live together, a kind of ceremony had arisen for the new generations to undertake. Instead of killing a dragon, Viking children now had the responsibility of raising a dragon. The dragons returned to the nest each year before winter started, not only to prepare for hibernation but also to lay their eggs. Each year, in the middle of winter, Gobber took a new batch of Vikings-to-be out to the dragon's nest. The Vikings-to-be then had to find their way into the volcano through rivers of lava and bottomless pits with sharp rocks at the bottom. If they made it to the center of the volcano, they then had to choose a dragon egg out of the thousands of sleeping dragons without waking a single one. Sure, if one woke up it wouldn't kill a Viking, but grumpy hibernating dragons still had a habit of leaving whoever annoyed them with a few extra scars. In the spring, the dragon eggs hatched, and that's when the real work began.
Val tugged on her big brother's sleeve. "What's wrong, Odi?" she asked. In her arms, Dullfang smacked his lips and yawned. Val put her other arm back around the dragon, and he sank back into sleep.
"It's nothing, Val," Hrodi assured her. "Just thinking about the initiation. I still haven't decided what kind of dragon I want yet."
"You said you wanted a riding dragon."
"Well, yeah, but that doesn't help to narrow it down any." Hrodi sighed. "I'd go with a Monstrous Nightmare but I hear they're kind of mean, and a Nadderhead wouldn't suit me at all. I was thinking about getting a Vipertongue, or even a Red-Eyed Howler…" Hrodi looked down at Val, who was looking blankly back up at him. She didn't understand a word of what he was saying. "I guess I'll talk to dad about it later," he added lamely.
By this time, they had arrived at their house, which stood not far from Dragon Hall. There was a fire going in the cooking pit, but it didn't look as though either of the childrens' parents were home. Hrodi kept his jacket on – despite the fire it was still chilly in the house – and threw a few more logs onto the flame. Dullfang stirred in Val's arms, and she set him on the floor. He waddled over to the fire and, with a colossal yawn, lay down directly on top of it.
"Come on, Dullfang," Hrodi groaned, trying to lever the dragon away with a stick. "You're going to put it out, you dummy." To this, Dullfang responded with a huff, sending a tiny fireball flying straight onto Hrodi's shirt. He quickly patted it out, but it left a small smoldering hole in his tunic.
"You're not very good with dragons," Val commented plainly. "Maybe you shouldn't get a riding dragon. A hunting dragon might be better for you."
"Thanks, Val," Hrodi muttered. "It's nice to know you have so much confidence in me." Truth be told, Hrodi didn't have a lot of confidence in himself in the first place. All his life he'd been indecisive, always second-guessing himself and going back on his decisions. He knew he had to get a dragon – and a good one at that – and train it to be the best. It was the only way he could ever hope to fill the expectations people had set for him. But if he couldn't even decide what kind of dragon he wanted, how could he ever hope of finding one, much less raising it?
Being the son of a legend was a hard task indeed.
