Tooth and Nail

This is a slightly darker take on the HTTYD story, with changing points of view. There will be blood, possibly gore, will more than probably deviate from the movie. Actually, it defiantly will. Otherwise it wouldn't be a fan 'fiction', it would be a fan 'retelling'.

As for the disclaimer… I think you are smart enough to figure out that the writer of How to Train your Dragon does not write fanfictions about their story. If you aren't smart enough to figure that out, then shouldn't you ask your mother before using the internet?

...And I am doing a new format. Generally, chapters that have their names begin with the letter H are told from Hiccup's point of view, while all of the chapters beginning with the letter T are told from Toothless's. This way, you can only read the T chapters to read the story from Toothless's eyes, or only read the H chapters to read it from Hiccup's eyes... Or just read them in order. I don't care, I just think it is an interesting concept to allow the reader to choose how they would like to read the story. It's kind of like a 'choose your adventure' thing, only far less complex, and without much choice... Just either Hiccup or Toothless... Or both...

So... Yeah. Enjoy.

Dreams. Something a child does all the time, sleeping or otherwise. Conscious or not. Children always have the innocents of dreams, always smiling, as if the world only revolves around your happiness. Do you miss those days? I know I do…

However, we Vikings have less time thinking about innocents, when usually you are expected to run for your life, three winters after your birth.

My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. Not exactly the best name, in both my culture, and any other. I hear in the English language, hiccup is something you do when you breathe while drinking water, constantly making a 'mini burp' type noise.

Humiliating, I thought. The English traders were annoying enough to spread that among the rest of the village, and now everyone knows me as 'miniburp.'

My village lives on a remote island, in the Meridian of Misery, and it is called that for a reason. The village of Berk, home of the meanest, most bloodthirsty bunch you have ever seen. They are this way, for a reason. Adaptation to where they live, several generations of pure bloodshed and loss, turning Berk into the perfect warrior clan. All from the tall, to the small, have seen blood, spilt blood, shed blood, and crave blood. A Viking has no fear of death, or loss, simply because we deal with it every day.

Well, I shouldn't say we. I don't really fit the description of a Viking. Here is the Hiccup description.

I have seen blood… most of it my own. I have only spilt my own blood from my own clumsiness, I have shed enough blood to paint my town red, and after all of this, I most certainly do not crave blood. Too sticky, warm, and messy. I have a reasonable fear of death, as well as loss. I don't see or feel that every day, since most of my days, when an attack comes, I am the only one not in the fray. I suppose that is efficient population control. Either survive, or die. The survivors are the warriors, and the body count consists of either the foolish warriors, or cowards. Much like me…

But, I'm still alive. Either Odin has taken a shine to me, or I am smarter than most Vikings. I like to think it is the second option…

Brain vs. Brawn… and brain doesn't count for much here. If you are smart enough to understand that death is an occupational hazard, then you have the intellect of a Viking. However, because of this, survival instinct tends to diminish…

You might be wondering, what can cause such chaos in a society where they live such as this? Well, first of all, you must be from an English kingdom to even ask, but it still is rather harsh.

Well one's first guess would be lots of bandits. There are raids occasionally, but compared to what we usually face, they are but flies. There are rival villages that we must keep at bay, but they do not attack frequent enough to develop a village as threatening as this.

Now, would you believe me, if I said our biggest problem in all of Earthrealm, were pests?

Yes, but when you think of pests, you probably think of rats, mosquitos, raccoons, and parasites. Sure, they may carry diseases that can end lives very quickly, but tell me…

Have you ever witnessed a 'pest' hoist a man into the air, tear him in half, and use what is left of his vertebrae to pick its teeth? If you have where you are from, then most would call you mad. But in Berk, in our little slice of paradise, we see it every day.

Well so begins my terrible tale of the misery, death, and destruction of my people, as well as me. Joy, I love living here. 11 out of 12 months of a year is winter. I suppose it is what we get for living north...because we are Norse…

I certainly wouldn't have picked this location as a living area. As if the pest problem wasn't enough, we all freeze to death through the annual winters. Why we don't get on our boats and sail as far away from here as possible is beyond me, but I suppose we Vikings always did have stubbornness issues…

And I still have yet to mention what pests I speak of, what creature can do such things.

Well, I feel, the best way to learn something is by observation.

So I begin my tale, and you will learn soon enough of the 'pests' I speak of.

And so it starts, one Spring Morning…

Did you ever have those strange flying dreams? The ones that seem to take you anywhere and yet throughout the dream, you feel content. As if you have done it before. Only upon reflection do you understand how mad you would be not to be screaming at such heights…

An elder once told me that that is a dream of accomplishment, or freedom. Usually after something life changing happens…

But, you see, these aren't any dreams, these are nightmares. It isn't the flying, it's the falling.

Always, just when I am about to wake up… I stop flying, and I begin to fall. Time seems to slow down while I fall, and I see flames engulf me. I hear screams of agony, although I do not feel pain in dreams. And then, there is black. There is no panic waking, just black before I blink my eyes awake.

And in this case, always falling, always flaming, and the inevitable blackness slowly approaching, I can feel it. I can feel it as if it were actually approaching me physically, as if I could feel its presence.

I waited, but the darkness never came. All that came was-

RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING- RING-

I woke up in a flash, and sat up in an instant…

BONK

I had hit my head on the misshapen headboard on the new bed frame; I held my head in frustration.

"Damn it all to the frozen plains of Helheim…" I mumbled, rubbing my forehead.

Well, that would be the town alarm, so some excitement is happening. The sun has yet to rise, not surprising. We are known for getting up before the sunrise anyway…

I sighed, as I lazily put on my bear fur boots, and vest.

RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING-RING-DING- RING-

"Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time…" I said with a moan, knowing no one can hear me. Father was probably already out. He always is.

Well, several reasons why the town alarm goes off. Only one reason why I am not surprised… because it happens all the time.

But as for reasons of it going off… It varies.

"Bandits? Possibly. Pack of wolves? Unlikely. Rival tribe? Maybe. Pirates? I think they learnt their lesson the first time… Well that must mean behind door number one is…" I mused to myself as I walked to the door, opening it nonchalantly.

Nonchalant turned to panic as a large, winged lizard like creature was currently mutilating one of the villagers. The monster turned to me, dropped the human flesh in its mouth, and took a breath…

Knowing what comes next, I slammed the door as fast as I could, as the fiery liquid came bursting through the cracks in the doorway.

"Dragons…" I finished.

The hot liquid was seeping underneath the door. I quickly ran across the room, grabbed my lucky knife (you never know) and ran back upstairs.

Clearly I'm not going through that same door again… Out the window it is.

I went back up to my room, and jumped out the window.

Fire and chaos was all around me, something I've grown used to, yet it never stops being frightening.

But that's what we Vikings live for. We are born in a warzone, and we die in a warzone.

Me? I have other plans.

It is never good to stay in one place, houses burn quickly, and you do not want to be in one once that happens. I retreat to the only fireproof building in the village. The smithy.

Running as fast as I could, people shouting at me to get back inside… They tell me as half of my house is currently burning…

I ran uphill, and was about to go across a walkway, when another dragon, similar to the first one flew that was and was torching everything in its path. It narrowly missed me, as I was pulled back by someone.

"Hiccup! What is he doing-"He asked, and he quickly noticed no one was next to him.

"What are doing out? Get back inside!" He shouted, as he shoved me away.

That was Stoic the Vast, chief of our village. They said that when he was a mere child, he popped the head off of a full grown dragon with his bare hands.

Do I believe it? You would be a fool not to. If you so much as look at the man wrong, it's almost a guaranteed death sentence. He was big and burly, a long red haired beard, with a war-torn stern looking face, with a scar covering his left eye. He has a massive hammer with him at all times, capable of smashing a dragon's head into small pieces. I know because I have seen it before my eyes, he had smashed a full grown dragon's head, and it exploded. It took weeks to get the stench of rotten dragon grey matter off of my clothing…

I ran around the other way to the smithy, and took cover behind any houses that were still intact. I eventually made it.

"How nice o'ya to join the party!" My mentor commented, as he was hammering a sword.

Gobber is my mentor, and I am his apprentice. He is the most experienced warrior in the entire village, besides Stoic. But I wasn't his apprentice in fighting; I was his apprentice in the smithy arts. I was becoming a blacksmith because I obviously couldn't fight very well, so it was my job to create weapons for those who could.

The reason Gobber had become a blacksmith, is because of his crippling injuries. He had his left hand bitten off by a dragon, as well as his right leg, all within the same year.

He has a long, blonde braided mustache, a bald head, interchangeable prosthetics, and an elitist smart ass attitude.

As I worked with him, preparing as many weapons as possible for the warriors who had theirs broken, or lost during the battle. Looking out the window, I realized that a lot of the carnage was just in my view.

There were the Nadderheads, currently raiding the livestock. Now, if you imagine a reptilian bird with quills on its head, and a quilled tail, then you have the general idea of a Nadder. They usually consist of blue scales, sometimes with exotic patterns on the scales, and have a general bird –like anatomy. They have two bird legs, what would be their front paws are completely replaced by wings, again much like birds. They have large beaks, and eyes similar to birds… Yes, they look like reptilian birds, we have established that. They have a very general fire, what dragons are famous for. Breathing fire, of course. But that is not the notable feature for the Nadders. They are very fast, nimble creatures despite their anatomy, and the quills on their tail can be flicked at incredible speeds, impaling and pinning fully grown humans to walls. Even if you block them with a shield, it will send you a good few feet backwards, daze you, and possibly break a bone in your arm. You shouldn't be ready to block this; you should be ready to dive out of the way.

Next were the Gronkles, so different in anatomy that you would assume they weren't even dragons. They only reason we assume these creatures are dragons are because of three notable traits; they breathe fire, they fly, and they cooperate with other dragons. That is what justifies a dragon, not appearance. Now most kinds of dragons have different ways of producing the flames that they fire from their mouths. Gronkles are known for firing magma, because they will deliberately eat rocks, to melt in their bodies. Gronkles are big and bulky, have incredibly tough armor, are extremely heavy, and have very small wings. Because of swallowing rocks, they have incredibly large mouths, and sharp teeth, capable of biting the upper body of a full grown man off. They have a very peanut shaped body, if a peanut was a body builder… They have stubby legs, in which they have four of, unlike the Nadders. But because of its bulky nature, and its small and stubby limbs, it is slow on the ground and in flight, and usually is found hovering just out of reach rather than full-fledged flying. Finally, it has a large, thick tail, in which has a spiked ball attached to the end. This is capable of massive damage in one swing, and is known for causing a man's head to literally be smacked clean off from the sheer force and weight applied to the swing.

Then there were the Zipplebacks, one of the most exotic and interesting of the dragon species. Once again, its anatomy is so different from that of its fellow dragons that you would assume it is another species, had it not been for the three things that identify a dragon. It has a small body, small legs, medium sized wings, two tails, and two heads with extremely long necks. Upon behavioral study, I realized that the two heads have consciousness's of their own, and are two separate conjoined beings. However, each head serves a purpose. One, can breathe a very poisonous green fume, but is not poisonous enough unless one deliberately breathes it for more than ten seconds. That is not the deadly part of the fumes. The other head creates a spark, igniting the explosive fume. What would seem like a suicidal tactic simply because of the fact that the head has to be in the fumes in order to ignite it? But they have extremely tough scales, although not much in preventing sharp objects from cutting, but rather in resisting blunt force and pressure, like the damage you would receive from an explosion. It is interesting that you can never tell which head is which until they perform their action, since once a Zippleback is born, who's action is who's is randomized. So you cannot judge one head from the other based off of one encounter. The reason this is important, is because a useful way of disarming a Zippleback, is to wet the head that ignites the gas. Since the ignition is held within the head, rather than in its body, if the head is wet, it cannot light the gas. But it is not completely useless besides the gas, it's bite is very venomous, and can kill a man in two days if left untreated by the elder's herbs. It is still unknown which head controls the body, or if they share control. If they can hear each other's thoughts, or if they are completely separate minded. So many mysteries regarding the Zipplebacks, yet I seem to be the only Viking interested. All the others ask the same question of; if it does not aid in killing it, what is the point of knowing it? All of the others don't appear to have the same curiosity that I have unless it involves killing, but I digress.

There are the Terrible Terrors, whose name can be misleading. They are the pests of the dragons. They are incredibly small in size, green thin scales, four legs, small wings, and are not usually found in raids. The Terrible Terrors are usually found thieving already cooked and chopped food, since they are far too small to steal a sheep. As for combat capability, once again, the name is misleading. They do, if cornered, have the means to kill. Their fire is capable of burning, but takes far too long to build up to deadly levels, and they are usually killed before they can spew their flame. Buy, when they resort to melee, they are smart enough and precise enough to hit your jugulars. Once this is done, you are dead within four minutes, but unlike the other dragons, do not attack you straight forward. If it wants you dead, it is sneaky about it, knowing that it is not very formidable when in head to head combat.

Then, the most famous of the dragon family, is the Monstrous Nightmare. Properly named, because it is monstrous, and has in fact given me several nightmares. I heard in far off lands, that the Monstrous Nightmare is the most famous of dragons, because it has traveled as far as to the English kingdoms, lands in which are not prepared for creatures such as these. They inhabit caves, and search for anything shiny to decorate the caves, and are spoken of as creatures of legend and horror. In other faraway lands, they are known as myths. Several of the Englishmen's finest warriors have fought those creatures and died, simply because they were not adept to fighting such things, as the Vikings were. They originated here, on the Meridian of Misery, just past Helheim's Gate. These are the toughest of the dragons. They are very large, red scaled creatures, with incredibly large jaws and teeth, capable of biting the body off of a man's feet. They have fearsome horns, capable of impaling men, large sharp claws, capable of dismembering men, a magma-like fire, capable of melting men, all in all, they are killing machines. Their wings are attached to their arms, at the end of each; claws capable of deadly swipes remain. They can fly by a man, chopping him in half midflight. They are not very common, but there is one or two every raid, usually on the front lines. Oh, and they have a habit of catching themselves on fire as a defense strategy, and to install fear into the enemy.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud screeching, followed by several Vikings shouting simultaneously in the distance.

"NIGHT FURY!" One of them shouted.

"Get down!" Another voice followed soon afterwards.

Then, a lavender flash of light that seemed to come out of nowhere, hit a large tower with a catapult on top, in which several Vikings were jumping off of in terror.

Ah, yes. There was one more dragon I forgot to mention. The infamous Night Fury. The most mysterious dragon known by any man. No human eyes have ever seen one and lived. They are the fastest, most elusive, skilled, intelligent dragons ever discovered. How do we know all of this about it if no human eyes have ever seen it? Just look at its behavior and body count. All you know, is you hear a screeching noise, and a building is going to collapse soon. Only once was a man directly targeted, and it reduced him to a red mist. The blast is so powerful, yet so surgical. Anything in its sights is gone, but everything around it is intact. None of the dragons are hurt by the blasts, only its targets, and just as well, it never misses. I remember when I was little, it was my dream to be the first Viking ever to see one and live, or just see one. I'm not too picky, knowing it's fearsome nature. I remember how you can only see a glimpse of its outline on starry nights. If it is a cloudy night, then it is completely invisible. My grandfather said he saw a glimpse of a Night Fury's eyes, and how they were blood red, and glowing with pure hatred for all human life. How they were foul creatures, forged by the deception of Loki, and how it is the offspring of lightning and death itself. Fitting, since when the Night Fury was first spotted, it was misconstrued as Thor hurling lightning bolts.

And as for the Night Fury that had just fired, must have noticed that the tower he had fired at was still standing. I heard screeching, another few shouts of 'Night Fury! Get down!' before another flash of lavender-orange destroyed the remaining supports of the catapult tower.

As I looked around the carnage, I noticed my fellow young bloods, although they really don't consider me a fellow, due to my small stature. But, none the less, there they are.

There was Snoutlout, my cousin. Although he certainly doesn't treat me like family… He prays on the weak in order to make himself feel bigger, yet still makes himself look like an idiot when he bites off more than he can chew. Big, bulky chest and shoulders, manly chin, and black short hair describe his general appearance. Although he seems fit and manly, he seems to weasel his way out of a fight with anything bigger than he is. I'm small and weak, so for him, fighting me is a guaranteed victory. It takes a lot of willpower to even call him cousin after the humiliation and pain he put me through, but I shouldn't hold a grudge.

Fishlegs, who despite his bulky appearance, is a bookworm. A rare trait for a village of illiterate Vikings. He and I are some of the only people who can read here. He seems to be obsessed with dragon study, rather than dragon killing. Much like me, but in different matters. He seems to point out their strengths and weaknesses to others, making strategic morale. As for me, I design weapons that cope for what I lack. Although most of said weapons are failures, I have a working bola launcher, although it still has a few kinks… Fishlegs will be a very good leader in the future if he ever receives such a rank. He is quite good in the tactical field.

Then there are Ruffnut ant Tuffnut, the twins that are obsessed with pranks. Brother and sister, although they seem to treat each other as worst enemies, yet best friends. Their relationship is hard to describe. Ruffnut is the female, and Tuffnut is the male, to avoid confusion. When I was younger, I would catch myself calling Ruffnut Tuffnut, and vice versa. They both found it incredibly insulting, because a woman hates to be called a man, and a man hates to be called a woman. That is rather obvious, but worth saying.

Then there is Astrid, the most skilled of the young bloods. She, despite her appearance, will no doubt be one of the deadliest warriors of this generation. She knows all weaknesses and strengths of all dragon types, thanks to Fishlegs, she has incredibly physique, she is nimble, and smart. I will not lie by saying I do not have a crush on her, since all of the young blooded Viking males do. The only one of us that lacks the brain, but has sufficient testosterone to hit on her is Snoutlout, even though when he does, he ends up getting hurt. That sends a clear message to all of the male young bloods; call me pretty, and I will rip your genitals off. This is why I was never good with talking to her; because I am afraid that anything I say might provoke her, and I was never good with women from the start.

They were outside, fighting for survival, and winning. I need to get out there. Everyone sees me as a reject, but I just need to show them, with a dragon's decapitated head.

Just as I was about to crawl out of the forge, Gobber grabbed me.

"Just where d'ya thing you're goin'?" He asked.

"Aw, come on! I need to go out! I need to leave my mark!" I said, annoyed as he dragged my back inside.

"Oh, you've made plenty o' marks… All in the wrong places!" He said, obviously referring to the last time I went out, and accidently got the treatment center burned down… Yes, I left a mark… A scorch mark.

"Just a few minutes! I'll kill a dragon! My life will get infinitely better!" I pleaded.

"You can't hold a hammer, you can't swing'n axe, you can't even throw one of these!" Gobber said, holding up a pair of bolas.

"Yes, but this will do it for me…" I said, patting on the bola throwing device that I mentioned earlier. Upon doing so, it slung open, throwing the bola that was loaded into it prior out of the window, and hitting a man square in the head, knocking him unconscious from the force of the throw.

Gobber sighed.

"You see, this right'ere is what I'm talking about! Every time you go out there, you either hurt yerself, or the men around you!"

"A mild calibration issue-"I attempted to defend, before he interrupted me.

"Look, if you want to go out there, and kill dragons, you need to work on… this." He said, gesturing to me.

"You just pointed to all of me!" I said dryly.

"Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you!" He said. I was… rather offended. But I just flexed what muscle I had.

"That is a dangerous game you are playing there." I warned, knowing I was only fooling myself.

"Yeah." He said, unconvinced.

"Keeping this much raw… Vikingness contained! There will be consequences!" I continued.

"I'll take my chances. Sword, sharpen, now." He said, before picking up a large broadsword, and dropping it in my arms.

I sighed as I took it to the sharpener, and held it in place as it grinded. Tonight will be different. I know it! I feel it!

"Man the fort, Hiccup. They need me out there!" Gobber said, before changing the blacksmith's hammer prosthetic to the axe prosthetic.

"Stay. Put. There… you know what I mean." He said, before charging out with a war cry.

I observed the surroundings. Action was dying down slightly, it is a starry night, and my bola launcher is ready, despite being a little unstable.

What can I do of notable value?

I smiled as I barely saw a faint outline of a Night Fury flying with the stars.

Tonight… I will become a legend.

Yes, I do realize this is not exactly what happened in the movie. But this will deviate in both little, and big things from the movie. I'll say again, if I didn't at least attempt to make it different then it would be a fanretelling, not a fanfiction.

And yes, it is because I haven't seen the movie in a while, and therefore do not know the exact details and dialogue lines, but gives me a little more creative space to make it myself. It should get much more interesting, and quite a few things will be changed, not just dialogue, small sequences, or other matters of such. There will be blood, and gore, since they were killing dragons and dragons were killing humans. I would tell what I am going to change, but that would spoil it quite a bit, wouldn't it? I hate to sound like one of those people who shout, 'it will get better l8er!1 no flamz'

Review, criticize, flame if you'd like. No need to feel embarrassed about it, since I would never remove anonymous reviewing. Removing that is like saying, 'I am a small child, and I will cry if one person does not like my stuff!'

I accept all criticism, and flames. I read all reviews, I may attempt to respond to some, although I may tend to do so in authors notes of following chapters. If you can't take criticism, then you shouldn't be on the internet, especially a site where you post things for others to see.

If you are here because of my other story, 'Consumption' then I'll say again, I will eventually rewrite it. Not now, not soon, but eventually. If you are curious as to what that is, I wouldn't recommend reading it until I rewrite it, since upon reflection, I was all over the place with that story, and it needs serious revision.

So please, review, praise, criticize, flame, whatever floats your boat, just do it. I love feedback, no matter what kind. Updates may be a bit all over the place, since I am rather busy, and I just got back from a vacation. Some will come soon, some will not come in a week or so, it is hard to tell, so consistent updates I cannot guarantee. But I will do this from start to finish.

Review Replies

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Toothless-the-nightfury
2011-10-02 . chapter 1

It's looking good so far, and as long as this doesn't get too dark', then I can see this being a good story - by this I mean Hiccup can feel suicidal with all the hate he gets, but he shouldnt go on a killing spree with Toothless.

It's happened before on fan fiction. They story sucked

But I like this so far, please continue!

My Reply

Where did you get the idea that Hiccup would go on a killing spree? That's a little too far fetched... I didn't exactly make him angsty or anything... Alright maybe a little but still! And suicidal thoughts? He may not be the strongest Viking, but he is still raised in the culture, so suicide sounds rather contradictory to his personality. So don't worry about that.

...Oh, and thanks. XD

kole13
2011-10-25 . chapter 1

I don't know why, but i like retellings of movies, espicailly from different
character POVs. But I'm honestly not seeing the deviation from the movie.
maybe i'm not looking hard enough. but i like it anyway. update soon please.

My Reply

Well there are two keywords inside of the summary, 'will' and 'a bit.' What I mean by this is that the deviation is not there yet, so don't bother looking, and 'a bit' meaning that when it does, it will not be anything too significant. It will impact the characters and the story line, and perhaps steer the plot into another direction... Okay that will be significant... I've lost my train of thought.

But there will be smaller deviations along the way, and the sad part is that I cannot mention any of which without spoiling... Yet again I'm starting to sound like one of those people who shout 'IT WILL GET BETTUR L8TR...'

...I hate those kinds of people.

But none the less, thank you for the feedback!