A/N: Hi! I'm back! As for my other story… honestly, I had the idea for the beginning, but I didn't really know where I was going with it. I'll try to finish it, because (almost) nothing bugs me more than an unfinished story that never gets updated again.
But this story, I do definitely have an ending in mind, and I've already written the first seventeen chapters or so, and am in the process of editing as well. This story does not feature any of the main characters from Httyd, though they are mentioned once in a while. The title may or may not be a working title, as I don't like it much, but it might grow on me. This story is also canon-friendly, though it might clash a little with the TV series as I'm not too familiar with it. Finally, I am writing this story with a co-author and editor, my younger brother, Chimera21.
All recognizable characters, places, ideas, etc are not mine, but I (or my brother) do own my OCs.
"Wonder how he hid it all these years."
"I've never seen him take down the beasts myself, but from all I hear this will be a good and bloody fight!"
I rolled my eyes as I passed the two eager Viking men and sat down on one of the wooden benches around the arena next to my friends, Nora and Therese, before turning back to the sheepskin vest I was mending. I took a breath, enjoying the crisp and clear autumn air, currently untainted with fog or smoke from an attack.
My grey eyes scanned over the crowd that had gathered for the occasion. Despite being sixteen, the same age as most of the teens who had just completed-or were just about to complete- dragon training, I was not a fan of 'good and bloody fights'. I preferred to stay home, and my father, who had recognized I was decidedly non-violent by Viking standards, didn't require me to go. He needed me at home, anyway, after my mother had been killed in a dragon raid five years ago. My most prized possession was a necklace with a blue gemstone she had given me only a couple weeks before the fight and I had worn it ever since, though I had other things from her, mostly tools and things that kept the house running. A little over half the girls in each year usually did the same, choosing to learn to heal and keep the house instead of becoming shield-maidens.
Nora and Therese were these other young women nearest my age, and though we got along and I was closer to them than any of the other Viking teens, I spent most of my free time outside in the cool shade of the pine forest around our village, though refraining from hunting or fighting any animals I came across. The two girls spent most of their free time socializing, doing their hair, or giggling over and admiring the warriors-in-training, mainly Snotlout Jorgenson.
I glanced up at the noise of the clear laughter of my twelve-year-old brother, Herryk. His grey eyes, similar to mine, danced with amusement as he joked with his friends, gesturing and leaning against the metal bars around the kill ring, his brown hair, unlike my neatly braided blond, tousled in the wind. He wore a long-sleeved blue tunic with brown pants and a grey fur vest, which I had made, along with my own short-sleeved green tunic, blue leggings, and my leather and grey cloth skirt. I had done most of the sewing for my family since the dragon attack that had taken our mother.
Herryk, like most typical Viking boys his age, was eager to learn to fight dragons. He wasn't strong and burly like the others, though perhaps that would come once he hit his growth spurt. He was agile, and pretty good with his hands, which would hopefully keep him alive when he did start fighting.
I thought back to the most recent raid. Our house had nearly caught fire, but Herryk had scrambled up a ladder with a bucket of water and dumped it on the sparking head of the Hideous Zippleback. It was a trick he had learned from obsessively watching the recent dragon training lessons with his friends. He saw Hiccup as something of a hero, a smaller boy like him outsmarting the dragons instead of using pure brute force.
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had surprised everyone, going from the village joke to top of his dragon fighting class, something most of the assembled Vikings were loudly blabbing about. He was the reason I was at the fight in the first place- he was the son of the chief, after all, and while Stoick the Vast was a good fighter and leader, he was known to have a bit of a temper on occasion. Plus this was a major rite of passage for any young Viking, and it was generally polite to show up. Not that Vikings were habitually polite, but that was beside the point.
I was snapped out of my thoughts when the six dragon-fighting recruits stopped in front of us, various shiny weapons glinting in the sunlight. I ducked my head, not particularly eager to get their attention. I wasn't afraid of them, exactly, just intimidated. Though they were the 'cool Vikings,' I didn't have any interest in joining their group, and had mostly ignored them for the majority of my childhood. I caught a glimpse of nearly identical looks of eagerness for the fight on their faces- except for Hiccup, who looked queasy but determined, and Astrid Hofferson, whose expression was stony, though she kept glancing at the chief's son.
"Do any of you ladies want to sit with us?" Snotlout asked, casually leaning on his axe. "I've been told I'm excellent at giving commentary."
Therese and Nora stifled girlish giggles. "Of course, we'd love to," Nora answered, batting her eyelashes. Astrid rolled her eyes in disgust.
"Halfrida? Want to come?" Fishlegs Ingerman asked.
I swallowed nervously. "Uh, n-no thanks, I have a good spot here," I replied, feeling rather timid under the force of the group's combined gazes. Plus any commentary of Snotlout's was guaranteed to be exaggerated and graphic.
"I'll come sit with you guys!" Herryk jumped in eagerly.
Snotlout and Tuffnut Thorston exchanged glances. "Uh… I just realized that we only have room for two extra people… maybe some other time…" Tuffnut replied in an excuse that was transparent as usual yet surprisingly tactful. Herryk visibly deflated and sat down next to me as Nora and Therese walked off with the other teens, while Hiccup and Astrid went towards the entrance of the arena. She was probably going to shout at one last time for daring to beat her last minute after all her hard training, I mused.
The arena suddenly went quiet as Hiccup entered, wearing nothing but his usual tunic, vest, pants, and a helmet. He picked up nothing but a dagger and a shield from the rack of weapons.
"I'm ready."
What whispers remained went silent as the Monstrous Nightmare cage was opened with an ominous cranking. The beast emerged in a blaze of fire, glaring at us evilly as it raced around the edges of the arena, spewing flames. I ducked behind another Viking, but the fire fortunately didn't come near me.
"This is awesome," Herryk proclaimed, a crazed grin on his face. I rolled my eyes again but smiled fondly before turning apprehensively back to the ring.
The Monstrous Nightmare had stopped flaming and had dropped from the chain ceiling of the enclosure to face its opponent directly. It advanced, and Hiccup stepped backwards just as quickly- dropping his dagger and shield and slowing as he held his hands in front of the dragon's snout.
The dragon seemed almost as confused as we were. Was he going to bring it down by touching it in a certain place, like he had supposedly done with the Deadly Nadder? It wasn't the showiest method, but if it worked, it worked. I personally agreed that it was best to get the fight done with as quickly as possible before limbs were lost.
The Nightmare growled menacingly, but Hiccup made soothing noises. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."
Everyone leaned forward in confusion and anticipation. We hadn't seen this trick before. Lulling the dragon into a false sense of security? Most Vikings here, including me, were of the opinion that the dragon didn't care how harmless Hiccup appeared, and simply wanted to roast him and escape, possibly torching a few houses and stealing a few sheep along the way.
But it got even stranger when the teen took off his horned helmet and threw it to the ground. "I'm not one of them," he proclaimed with deadly finality.
Soft gasps rang through the arena. "What is he doing?"
"Stop the fight." Chief Stoick's voice, though at a low volume, rang out over the other whispers like thunder.
"No! I need you all to see this." Hiccup had his hands almost touching the dragon's nose. "They're not what we think they are. We don't have to kill them."
I was just as surprised as anyone by his words. Hiccup, underdog hero of the dragon arena, most popular teen in the village, opposed to killing dragons? But once I thought about it, I remembered that- according to Herryk, at least- Hiccup had never visibly injured any dragon, only somehow disabling them or getting them back into their cage. As I was fairly skinny, I got up and squeezed between two women to see better, but I only had an instant to clearly see the Nightmare, seemingly calm but wary.
"I said STOP THE FIGHT!" Chief Stoick's hammer rang against the bars of the arena, snapping the dragon out of its almost trance-like state before it began rampaging and breathing fire again.
I watched with dismay as Hiccup led the dragon on a chase around the ring, all strategy seemingly forgotten as Astrid- Astrid, the girl who only the day before had hated Hiccup's guts? Maybe she thought she had a chance to get her hard-earned glory if she killed the Nightmare now- forced her way into the ring to help, throwing a hammer at its head, and was joined by Stoick only a moment later. Stoick pulled Astrid out of the way before she could get hurt, but a fiery shot from the Nightmare blocked his son's escape.
The Monstrous Nightmare had Hiccup pinned with its claws, and I looked away as it prepared to kill him with its fiery breath.
Suddenly, I heard an all too familiar scream- the scream of the most feared dragon, even more notorious than the Nightmare, about to send a deadly blast of blue flame. There was a blinding flash of light, and then smoke and a gaping hole in the bars surrounding the arena was all that was visible. The smoke cleared a moment later in a flurry of flapping wings- the Nightmare was wrestling with a black mass half its size, and the black mass seemed to be winning.
It was a Night Fury.
Despite my dislike for bloody battles, my eyes were glued to the scene. The Night Fury had its back to Hiccup and from what I saw, it was defending him from the Nightmare, and the Nightmare was backing off. My eyes flickered over the mysterious dragon, so unknown and so feared that the dragon manual had no illustration and no statistics, only advice to flee and pray it did not find you. It was as black as its name suggested, with batlike wings, four legs, a wide triangular head, large yellow-green eyes, and a finned tail… half a finned tail?
It was clearly not as it seemed at first glance. Half its tail was leather and iron, and on its back, almost on its neck, was a leather object that could only be one thing, but the idea was almost too ludicrous to consider.
Had Hiccup made a saddle for the dragon? Only he or Gobber would have the resources and skills to make a saddle and half of a dragon's tail, and Gobber doing it was an idea almost as crazy as the saddle itself.
My wild theory was partially confirmed as Hiccup stepped up to the Night Fury's head fearlessly and urged it to flee from the Vikings determined to get a piece of it. The dragon stayed, defending itself and somersaulting over Chief Stoick, as Hiccup pleaded with it to quit fighting. "Toothless, stop! No! NO!"
I held my breath as the Night Fury, about to deliver a fatal blast to the chief, held back its fire and looked at Hiccup with an odd, almost pleading expression.
"Get him!" someone yelled, and the dragon was tackled from all sides, then tied up and taken away.
"Don't hurt him… please, don't hurt him," Hiccup begged as it was put into a cage.
Stoick grabbed Hiccup and dragged him off, and the rest of remained in confusion.
"Halfrida, that was…" Herryk was speechless. "It wasn't… wearing a saddle, was it?"
I shrugged. "That's what I saw. I doubt it was ever used."
"What dragon would allow a person on its back?" he agreed.
I nodded thoughtfully and grabbed the forgotten sheepskin vest as we got up and turned to walk back to our house. "Especially a Night Fury… but he would have to get close enough to get it on, and getting the dragon to hold still to put it on without being maimed might be even harder than getting on its back."
Herryk grinned. "Probably how he figured out how to get all those dragons without permanently injuring them… Hey, at least even you can agree it was interesting this year."
I bumped his shoulder as we continued walking.
The two of us entered our family's house- a sturdy wooden building with two downstairs rooms and an attic, where Herryk and I slept, and the house had lasted us seven months and counting, though there were a few minor incidents that had had to be repaired along the way. We went about our chores, cleaning up the earlier meal, sweeping, and feeding the sheep.
Our father came in a minute later. "Dad!" I called, waving in greeting from the sheep pen.
He smiled beneath his thick brown beard, but his blue eyes were grim. "Halfrida. I only have time to pack and say goodbye, we're going after the dragon nest again."
Icy dread sliced through my heart.
"Again?" Herryk asked, confused. "But you just got back."
"There's new information, apparently. I think Hiccup must have said something to Chief Stoick. We're taking the Night Fury with us, it seems that only a dragon can find the nest."
"We'll see you off," I promised, like I always did. It seemed to bring luck- so far, at least, our father had always returned.