Coming Home
A How to Train Your Dragon Fanfiction.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to How to Train Your Dragon or any of its characters.
This story takes place some generations after How to Train Your Dragon 3: The Hidden World. It is based on what would have happened if the Vikings of Berk had joined their dragons in the Hidden World and lived alongside them, waiting for humanity to learn to live in peace.
Chapter 1: The Hidden Village
It had been six generations, almost two hundred years, since the Vikings of Berk came to the Hidden World after defeating Grimmel, the pale hunter, and the army of dragon trappers. They had been led there by Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, one of the greatest chiefs the people of Berk ever knew.
Now, almost two hundred years after that monumental battle, the people of Berk have learned to live in the home of the dragons without disturbing the natural order of things. They stay in the shadows and let the dragons live as they wish. Only a few dragons ever seek out a bond from one of the Berkians, but when they do, it is a bond unlike any other.
Morek was sixteen when he was introduced to his dragon. Morek is the son of Hagrish, the great-great grandson of Hiccup. In the Berkian culture, it was necessary for the chief to be bonded to a dragon. Hagrish was bonded to a timberjack named Willowtooth, the two sharing a calm, contemplative nature.
Morek's mother, Taralin, was not bonded to a dragon at all. She was one of the Vikings who believed dragons and humans should live separately but equally, so she never allowed Willowtooth into the house, despite him wanting to play with her son.
On the day that Morek turned sixteen, he was approached by his mother and father.
"Son, we need to talk about your dragon." Hagrish said, Taralin frowning disapprovingly beside him, but not speaking up. Hagrish was a big man, but he wasn't a fighter. He preferred peaceful approaches to conflicts, rather than violence. His son didn't share this trait with him, as he was always ready for a fight.
Morek looked up at his father from where he sat eating some roasted fish. "Sure Dad, what's up?" He asked inquisitively, trying to hide his excitement from his mother's prying eyes. Morek had been looking forward to this day ever since he could remember. His leg twitched, and his blue eyes got a little bit wider as he looked up at his father.
"You're sixteen now, and that means you're of age." Hagrish said, winking so Taralin couldn't see. "Which means you're going to have to get a dragon of your own." Taralin scowled and walked away, probably seeking comfort with her sewing kit.
Hagrish smiled and gestured for Morek to follow him outside. Morek crammed the rest of the fish into his mouth with gusto, before following his father to the front of their home and out the door.
The Hidden World was an amazing place, and where the Berkians had built their new home was no different. Most of the houses, including Morek's, were built suspended between the massive stalagmites of rock that jutted from the floor of the Hidden World. The houses still resembled the old Viking huts of their ancestors, just with a few adjustments. The homes were coated in bioluminescent algae to mimic the coloring of the rock which they were built upon. This camouflaged their homes from the dragons, who welcomed the Berkians as guests, but they were not viewed as equals. The Berkians knew their place and did whatever they could to leave as little a trace as possible on the dragons' home.
Morek stuck close to his father, taking in every detail around them, including the dragons who flew overhead. Any one of those could want to bond with me. He thought excitedly to himself. Hagrish's cloak of shed timberjack scales flapped in the wind as Willowtooth swooped down from one of the stalagmites to greet them. Morek chuckled as the normally docile timberjack flew excitedly around them.
"Hey there big guy." Morek said happily, holding out a hand for Willowtooth. The dark brown timberjack landed on the stalagmite beside him and leaned down to accept Morek's offering of scratches. "You're ready for the big day too, huh?" Morek asked, earning a coo from the large dragon beside him.
Ever since he was a boy, Morek had been very close to dragons, even going so far as to sneak into the nursery to play with the hatchlings. His mother scolded him when she found out and told him never to go back there. Now, Morek works as a trainer, teaching children and adults alike how to live beside dragons.
Morek looked over Willowtooth's shoulder at the glowing village. The village was centered in a large circle of stalagmites, and in the center of these stalagmites was the Great Hall, the meeting place for all the village's councilmen and a place for Berkians to socialize. The Great Hall was a large domed structure that links to other, smaller buildings through a series of tunnels graciously provided by whispering deaths and other boulder class dragons and their riders. Some of these buildings included the nursery, council chamber, the blacksmith stall, and the Elder Hall, a place for the village's elders to conduct meetings.
Morek was excited to finally meet the elders. He had never been to the Elder Hall, but he knew what was going to happen. He would be presented to the elders, who would ask him questions and give him tests. If he pleased the elders, he would then be passed on to the council, who would assign him a species of dragon to attempt to bond with based on the reports of the elders.
Morek took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. Hagrish began descending the spiral staircase on the stalagmite, and Morek quickly followed him down to the entrance of the Great Hall.
The Great Hall's entrance was a pair of massive wooden doors carved with a pair of twisting dragons. The interior of the Great Hall was even more impressive, lit by glowing crystals suspended from the ceiling and crowded with Vikings bustling back and forth, going about their daily duties.
Morek smiled when he saw the children sitting next to the wall, listening to Grindel, one of the elders, tell the story of the battle between Hiccup, Toothless, and the Red Death. That story was one of Morek's favorites, he enjoyed imagining the speed that a night fury possessed, whipping through the clouds like a black bolt of lightning.
Morek's mind began to wander as he thought about the alpha species in the Hidden World. Even though bewilderbeast numbers had been improving, they had yet to try and challenge the night furies for dominance.
Morek could tell that a confrontation was inevitable though, he had seen bewilderbeasts from afar and he knew that they wouldn't wait too much longer to reclaim their throne as the alpha species. So far, the night furies had seemed to keep the larger dragon species away from the village to ensure the Berkians' safety.
Morek then began thinking about night furies as he walked through the Great Hall. He had only ever caught a few brief glimpses of them, but he knew what they looked like due to the drawings on the walls of the Great Hall, and the drawings by the few elders who had seen one up close. He knew that there weren't very many, they were vastly outnumbered by their female counterparts, the light furies, but he did know that their numbers were on the rise.
Morek shook his head, now was not the time to be daydreaming about dragons. He was here to see the elders, and that was what he was going to do. Hagrish directed him through the Great Hall, and many of the Vikings only gave Morek quick glances before moving on.
Morek was somewhat of an anomaly in the village. He spent more time with dragons than with people and never participated in parties or social events. In Morek's point of view, he saw people as boring and repetitive, which alienated him from the rest of the Vikings in the village and made it hard for him to make friends.
Morek's distance from people was a big concern for the council and the elders, who had all consulted with Hagrish about it. On multiple occasions, the chief had considered passing his responsibilities on to his sister's oldest son, Kadil, who was much more social with his companions.
Kadil was a bright young man who enjoyed spending time with the elders and the council, and he seemed to be everything Morek was not. He was patient, easygoing, and had a wickedly sharp wit. He had defeated many of the council members in the old game maces and talons and was on a path that would lead him to his own seat on the council in the future.
Despite the council's requests, Hagrish kept refusing their pleas. He knew that there was a spark in his son, and all he needed to do was fan the flames before it would grow into a flame that could act as a beacon to the people of Berk.
Hagrish hoped that getting a dragon would help his son learn the amount of responsibility that would be passed on to him when he stepped down as chief.
Morek walked through the Great Hall excitedly, barely giving anybody any mind as he made his way to one of the tables where his friend, Even, sat feeding a gronckle.
"Hey, Even, how is Burple doing?" Morek asked, looking at the small gronckle and her human companion.
Even turned and smiled happily at Morek. Even was a rather chubby kid with curly brown hair and a soft voice. When he was a kid, he had been picked on and teased mercilessly by the other kids, until Morek stepped in and stopped all that. Morek taught Even not to let people walk all over him, and ever since that day, the two had been good friends.
"Hey Morek, Burple is doing great! I brought her to the nursery, and they patched her leg right up." Even said, pointing at the bandages on the little blue gronckle's left foreleg.
Even met Burple when she fell on top of him after eating too many rocks and growing drowsy. He ended up in the nursery with some bruised ribs, and Burple, the little sweetheart, stayed by his side the whole time until he felt better, licking his hand and keeping him entertained. Burple got her name from how she will burp in somebody's face if she likes them, which she had done to Even numerous times in the nursery.
Burple bounced around happily, enjoying Even's attention. She had gotten into a fight with a young deadly nadder and got a spike caught in her leg. Luckily, the nursery deals with wounds like that all the time, and the only thing that would remain is a scar.
"I'm glad she showed up when she did," Morek said. "otherwise we'd need a new delivery boy." He finished jokingly, lightly punching Even's arm.
Even worked for the blacksmith stall, delivering supplies and equipment across the village with the help of his little blue companion. This led to him hearing about everything that happened in the village, which he would relay to Morek.
"So, you ready for the big day?" Even asked, little Burple curling up beside him for one of her usual naps.
Morek looked at him with a cocky grin. "Aren't I always?" He asked, holding his arms out.
Hagrish walked over behind Morek, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Son, the elders are ready for you." Hagrish said, looking down at Morek with a stern look in his eyes. It was a warning look, telling him to behave himself in front of the elders, because if he doesn't, it could mean he'll never bond with a dragon.
Morek nodded his head, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He nodded goodbye to Even and accompanied his father across the Great Hall, towards the dark hallway that led to the Elder's hall. Hagrish stopped by the entrance and motioned for Morek to enter.
"I'll wait for you out here with the council, make us proud son." Hagrish said, opening his arms to Morek. He looked up at his father and smiled, giving him a hug.
"Don't worry Dad, I will." Morek said, leaving the hug and giving his father one last look before descending into the dark hallway.
The hallway was wide, but dimly lit, the greatest source of light coming from behind Morek. He continued down the corridor, keeping one hand on the wall at all times. He walked in darkness for a moment before seeing a light ahead of him. He picked up his pace, and before long he found himself standing in a large, oval shaped room covered in darkness.
At the far end of the room, Morek could see torches on the wall, illuminating seven hooded figures. Upon closer inspection, Morek realized that those weren't torches, but seven dragons standing behind the figures, holding their flames in their mouths.
"Morek Ulfric Haddock, step forward." A voice echoed through the chamber, but Morek couldn't tell which of the figures had spoken. He followed the request, stepping into the circle of light in the center of the chamber, presenting himself to the elders.
"As of today, you are considered a man, are you willing to accept the responsibility that comes with that title?" A different voice said, higher pitched than the first, but scratchier. Morek straightened his shoulders and looked at the middle figure.
"Yes, I am." He said, holding his voice and gaze steady. He took a deep breath and took some steps forward. "Elders, I have waited a long time for this day, and I stand before you today not just to prove that I have come of age, but that I am ready to take on the responsibility of bonding with a dragon." He said in as calm a voice as he could muster.
The elders remained silent for a moment, before one by one, they left their stands and disappeared into the darkness, until only one figure and one dragon remained.
"I was hoping you would say something like that Morek." The final figure said, and Morek's eyes widened when he realized who it was. His grandfather, the old chief Erik, reached up a shriveled hand and pulled the hood down off his face.
Morek took a step back in shock. "Grandfather." He said softly. Erik smiled down at him, and his light fury, Talina, extinguished her fire and disappeared in the shadows.