Disclaimer: *Raises cardboard sign with really sad face on* DO NOT OWN HTTYD
Chapter 1
It Rained A Lot and Then Rained Less
Situated in one of the most miserable parts of the ocean is a archipelago of equally miserable islands. Whether or not the people are as miserable as their environment is subjective to both opinion and the weather.
One the one hand, the people are Vikings, so they aren't really a happy bunch to begin with, wielding grave expressions, stupidity, and weapons to every daily activity. On the other hand, they are quite happy lobbing off heads and fighting anything or anyone.
But since the Dragon War ended, the Vikings have had a drop in targets to hit, smash, and kill. However, the upside to the end of the dragons' raids is they have more food, and more food almost always makes Vikings happier. See what I mean about Vikings' miserable-ness or happiness being up to opinion?
But then there's the weather. Now, normally, Vikings can deal with any weather—swirling snow, pounding sleet, pouring rain, sweltering sun, gushing you-name-it, Vikings can handle it. But this weather is pushing even Viking stubbornness, and that's saying something. Not sure what... maybe that Vikings aren't really as stubborn as they think they are... Heh, no, you're right, their actually really stubborn. These storms were just meeting them in the land of extreme stubbornness.
Anywho, the Vikings are quite accustomed to the constant rains, but the last six months or so, ever since the Light Winter, the rainstorms and thunderstorms had been almost non-stop. The rain would come down in buckets for days straight, lighten up for a day or so, then start pouring again. On the rare occasion during which it actually stopped raining the skies stayed dark, gloomy, and rumbled with the promise of a particularly harsh thunderstorm to compensate for the let up.
Thunder shook people in their bones and nearly split their eardrums. Lightning made a valiant effort to blind unsuspecting Vikings. Mud was a more constant and more annoying companion than it had been before. Sleet made encore appearances no one asked for.
Altogether, the storms did a very dangerous thing... they kept whole islands chock-full of raw viking-ness contained. Quite effectively, I might add, and none were more effected than our intrepid Viking-dragon duos, grounded in their stone cabins and prevented from stretching their wings.
Progress in training was stunted by shortened flying hours and tempers were tested by endless hours of confinement. They took every opportunity to leave their stone cabins when the rain eased its beatings, usually spending their time fishing for dinner. Sometimes they only had time to run around for a few minutes like maniacs to release pent up energy (mostly Tuffnut and his energetic Skrill, Staticzapboom. Hiccup considered himself to dignified for that... Don't laugh, he has an image to uphold.)
On one of the periods during which the rain had abated to light drizzle, all the dragons and riders took to the skies. Miraculously, the spell lasted a few days. The first day they spent expending all possible energy and stocking up on food. The second was spent expending more energy, and fixing up the buildings. Their former meeting hall—an open, airy pavilion, had long since been blown over by the storm system. It had been ridiculously hard to build something that would stand up in weather intent on tearing everything down. They had tried waiting it out, but after the first week it became abundantly clear that they were going to have to learn to work during the storms. That was three months ago. Now, with a (mostly) clear day, they were able to fix any mistakes made in the hasty rebuilding of the Meeting Hall.
By the fifth relatively calm day, they dared to turn their attention to other projects, left unattended since winter ended and the stormy months had begun.
"The inner structure looks steady, Hiccup," Drott, Hiccup's blacksmithing muscle-man, reported, flying down to the main island on his dark, grumpy Gronckle, Blackmetal.
"Really?" Hiccup asked, absently patting Toothless on the shoulder to restrain him from leaping off the island without Hiccup in the saddle. "That's great! Surprising, since it's been so long since we checked up on it, but great."
"Yeah," Drott agreed enthusiastically. "All the tunnels we hollowed out are still standing, no cave-ins at all. Blackmetal and I are having no trouble waking up the other Gronckles, but they need to work off their cabin fever, same as us, before they can start working again though."
Hiccup eyed the towering island composed of only a single black rock as tall as a mountain. It was only a few hundred feet away from the main isle, and used to be useless since it was too steep to really rest on and solid to the core. But Tuffnut had asked about the huge rock several months ago, and his innocent inquiry had got Hiccup thinking, which almost always led to a new project. After discussing the specifics and logistics with Drott and Aesa, Hiccup had set the Gronckles to work creating a dragon-made tunnel system. Hiccup was rather pleased with the idea. The Wingback Isles, their home of three small islands was terribly overcrowded with dragons, and the extra space would be very valuable. Unfortunately, the project had been delayed, just like everything else, for the storms. Hiccup looked up at the gray skies and dared to hope the worst of it was over.
"This has been the longest storm system I've ever seen," Drott commented, noticing Hiccup's gaze. "But I think it's due for an end."
Toothless rumbled in agreement.
Hiccup chuckled. "I couldn't agree more."
"Our village idio—ahem, I mean, elder back on my home island probably would have said he'd seen one longer that lasted for ten years or something," Drott said lightly. "And throw in a story of dragon death-battle he came out on top of for good measure."
"I've had enough dragon death-battles to last me a lifetime, thanks," Hiccup said dryly. "I think I'll pass."
Drott chuckled. "I won't argue."
"Good, you'd lose," Hiccup quipped.
Drott narrowed his eyes. "Cheeky," he said. "Watch the attitude, Chief."
Hiccup gave Drott his signature devil-may-care grin and said, "Yeah, sure."
"Hey, Chief!" called a mixture of three voices, causing Hiccup and Drott to look for the source. Three Vikings were running toward them, three dragons in tow. Lodin with his green Nadder Flire and Hall with his dark blue Nadder Brighteyes were following Tuffnut, who charged ahead with his own dragon, Staticzapboom the Skrill (Even after a whole year, Hiccup still refused to call the dragon by its full name. To him he was just Static).
"Hey, guys," Hiccup greeted as Tuffnut skidded to a halt a few feet away and Hall and Lodin slowed down to a much more graceful halt. "Good flight."
"Yep," Lodin said cheerfully. "I really missed flying."
"Everybody has," Hall pointed out, but he looked just as happy.
"Yeah, it was pretty awesome to be flying again," Tuffnut agreed.
"We just wanted to see how the hollowing out of the unnamed rock is going," Hall said.
Hiccup glared. "Don't you dare get into another naming war over this rock."
The three Vikings grinned with 'no promises' looks on their faces.
"It's going fine," Drott said, rolling his eyes at them. "The Gronckles are just having a hard time waking up after so long snoozing through the storms."
"So... what are we calling this?" Lodin asked.
"Lodin," Hiccup said warningly.
"Well, we have to call it something," Lodin said, defensively crossing his arms over his chest.
"Hey," Tuffnut cut in. "We are not calling it 'Something.' That's a dumb name."
"How about something like..." Hall began listing off various horrible names.
Hiccup threw his hands in the air in a universal 'I give up gesture' and looked pleadingly at Drott.
Leaning close, Drott whispered, "Hiccup, if you don't want another naming war, you had better name it now. You know how they get. This'll be out of hand really fast."
Hiccup sighed. "You're right. What was your suggestion back when we naming the main isles?"
"Er..." Drott thought hard, trying to remember the one evening, almost a year ago, when they had finally named the island. "I think it was Dragonheim."
"Okay, we're doing that," Hiccup decided. "You tell them. And keep at it with those Gronckles. Toothless and I are going for another spin."
Toothless perked up at that and snapped his wings out and flexing in and out in excitement.
Drott shook his head at them, but he was smiling. "Go on, I'll deal with these hooligans. Toothless obviously hasn't flown enough for three months in the last week."
"Thanks," Hiccup said, grinning. He hopped up into the saddle and quickly clicked his prosthetic into place.
As soon as Toothless heard the tell-tale click he shot into the sky like a bolt. Hiccup laughed in exhilaration as the world passed by him in a blur. Toothless went all out, as he has done that morning, yesterday night, yesterday morning, and so on. After spending most of the summer cooped up in their stone cabin, which was slightly cramped since they had added a third inhabitant—a huge, crippled, affectionate red Nadder named Red, the duo had gained a new appreciation for flying. Not that they hadn't appreciated it before, but now every second on the ground felt like torture. They needed to be airborne.
The frequency of winter storms hadn't helped matters much either. But at least during the winter, the little hodge-podge group of dragon riders had actually accomplished things. The summer was supposed to be when they started introducing the tribes to life with dragons, after having the whole winter to get used to the idea.
Obviously that hadn't happened. And now fall was upon them. All the tribes, including them, would be preparing for winter yet again. It frustrated Hiccup to no end. Leading to more need of flying to work out the frustration.
Several hours later, Hiccup and Toothless eventually leveled out and Hiccup absently tugged at the straps of the saddle's harness. With so much time on his hands during the storms, Hiccup had taken to spending a lot of time in the forge, redoing and adding to Toothless's harness and saddle, redoing and adding to his prosthetic, and redoing and adding to everyone else's gear.
To Hiccup's delight (and Drott's, as he had spent much of the summer in the forge with Hiccup) everything seemed to work wonderfully. Hiccup has installed a lever in Toothless's saddle so that he could fly without Hiccup. Toothless had almost put his foot down on that addition when Hiccup had told him about it, but Hiccup explained that it wasn't even that maneuverable, and it could be very useful if ever Hiccup wasn't in the saddle and he really needed Toothless's help. The lever worked beautifully, locking the pedal's control so the fake tail fin stayed fanned out.
All in all, Hiccup was very pleased. If the weather allowed, they would be on their way to Bardikk in a few weeks so they could catch up on the happening of the Barbaric Archipelago. Hopefully, the storms would abate and they could make contact with the other tribes and, Woden willing, begin introducing dragons into their everyday lives.
As Toothless glided over their three little islands and the addition of the huge black rock, Hiccup couldn't help but be positive about the future. In spite of the Viking general behavior (fighting something, someone, anything), Hiccup hoped they could find peace.
Hah. Not likely.
This is the story of how they didn't find peace and went on a life-threatening adventure instead.
A/N: Helooooooooo, HTTYD fandom. I finally cranked out a rough outline this story. AT LAST! Hopefully there are still people who want to read this... Anyway, looking forward to sharing this story with you guys. The outline looks really Hiccup-Toothless centric at this point, but hopefully I'll be able to shove everyone else in okay :P Next chapter will be more exciting, I promise... er, I mean, I hope :D
'Til next time (which is hopefully soon). Enjoy! And then review about it :D :D :D And have a cookie (::)