All right, this one was a bit tricky, but I managed to get it in. I hope you guys like the HicTooth fluff I put in - mark my words there is gonna be a lot of that in this story. People just really love the HicTooth fluff. I'm thinking nw, until further notice, I will submit a new chapter every Saturday, and with Thanksgiving break coming up, I should have plenty of time to work on the next chapter, so stay tuned.
All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.
The sun bled and shone through the needles and leaves of the trees from above, the light turning redder and redder from the waning day, shadows growing longer and stretching out across the ground in tandem. A symphony of nature resounded all around them, from the flowing water to the birds chirping and insects buzzing, to the blowing wind in the area.
An hour or two had passed since the cove's only current inhabitants had met and bonded, spent mostly through frivolous play. Games of tag, swimming or splashing in the pond, or hopscotch along the rocks without touching the ground, whatever came into Hiccup's mind. By now all their energies had been spent, and their tuckered out bodies now lay on the ground peacefully asleep.
Hiccup was sprawled out on the grass, breathing softly with his mouth open and his eyes closed, the soft bed beneath him more comfortable than his normal wooden plank one back at his house. Toothless was draped over him like a black scaly blanket, his right wing stretched out, tail wrapped around Hiccup's feet, head atop his little chest and paws wrapped around him like a stuffed animal in a child's grasp. His small purrs filled Hiccup's head with sweetened thoughts of their games stretching out into the wee hours, as fun and exciting as those from moments earlier. They were in a different realm where they were the only ones that existed, wearing smiles brighter than stars and able to carry on with their play for all eternity, undisturbed by outside forces.
One force though would not be denied, it shook the earth and sky of their little dream world, a noise as loud as thunder. It sounded out with a loud, resounding "HICCUP!"
The dream shattered and Hiccup's eyes snapped open, wide as saucer plates; he let loose a sharp yelp and a shuddering gasp from his sudden awakening. Bolting upright, he disturbed Toothless, the dragon rolling away onto the grass and shaking his own head. The cry sounded out once more, startling Toothless into a fully alert state; he ran over to Hiccup and curled his tail around his human friend in a protective manner, growling at the as of yet unseen foe.
"HICCUP, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"
Hiccup flinched at the voice, his clear mind now recognizing who it belonged to. With a sigh, he raised himself up and placed a hand onto Toothless's side, looking at the dragon with dejected eyes.
"That's my daddy. He's probably looking for me…" He mumbled.
He felt he should have been relieved to hear the voice of his father calling out to him, a clear sign that he was concerned and had dropped all his taxing demands as chieftain to search for him. A chance that perhaps he was willing to forego that face and voice of anger and shame that had become so terrifying and yet recently so common. However, hearing his father's tone and recalling everything that had occurred right before he went into the forest, he found he was more saddened than anything else. Playing with Toothless had given him a perfect escape from all the stress and angst just now beginning to appear in his relationships with everyone, but it had to end eventually, Hiccup knew.
His father was quickly becoming impatient, he also realized; a minute or two longer and he would most likely start ripping trees out of the ground. Hiccup figured it probably was time to leave anyway, even if he had his doubts that the village truly missed him or even noticed his absence, and so looked around to find an exit from the cove. He spotted one in between two of the large rock walls, just thin enough for someone like him to effortlessly squeeze through.
He started to make his way over to the exit, but found himself stopped dead in his tracks, his green tunic yanked from behind him. He looked back to see Toothless with tunic in his mouth, eyes pleading and whimpering like a dog that had lost its favorite bone or toy. The sight was enough to make anyone, especially Hiccup, break down, but Odin only knew what would happen if his father found a dragon with his son. The numerous statues and sculptures of mutilated dragons around Berk gave him a pretty clear idea though.
"Toothless…" He groaned and grunted while trying to yank his shirt out of the dragon's mouth. "Let go! I have to go back now!" The keyword was 'had' – truthfully he didn't want to leave any more than Toothless wanted to see him go.
Toothless just whimpered more, even began to growl, and shook his head while clamping onto the woven shirt harder. The concept of fathers and the necessity of departure was completely lost on the little dragon – all he knew was that his boy – he was referring to the little human as his boy now – was going away. For a brief moment the dragon was flooded with fear that somewhere in their chain of games he had probably done something to upset him, but with that smile Hiccup wore the whole time for the life of him he couldn't understand what.
Unlike the majority of his kind, he was simply naïve towards deceitful natures held by most humans. He figured it might have had something to do with the voice calling out; he was more than convinced it was something bad now to make his boy possibly not like him anymore and want to leave.
"Stop it, Toothless! My dad's… calling… I need to go home!"
Hiccup tugged on his tunic repeatedly to try and pry it out of Toothless's jaw, but still the dragon held firm. Their game of tug-of war just went on, neither side giving an inch, Hiccup attributing his new friend's behavior to sheer stubbornness. Back and forth, back and forth, neither of the two even noticed that the fabric was starting to give out and tear.
Finally, it ripped, sending both younglings fling back, Hiccup colliding on the ground with a good piece of his tunic torn away, Toothless still holding the torn piece in his mouth. The dragon immediately rushed up to check and see if Hiccup was okay, nudging his shoulder and sniffing and whimpering softly. Hiccup picked himself up to gaze into his worried eyes and reached out a hand to pet him on the head.
"Toothless, please. I have to go home." He repeated once again. "But I promise, I'll come back. I'll find a way to sneak out and we can play all day."
That response seemed to instill some manner of confidence into his little friend, because his stance had shifted somewhat to a more relaxed position. Still, his pleading look demanded some confirmation of that. Hiccup could recognize that: that need to know if friendship, especially a newly formed one, could weather obstacles such as separation and survive. Unseen forces beyond the control of the children they were had been what pulled him and Astrid apart, though she seemed content to be guided in their direction.
She was on the verge of cutting off all ties with him for the sake of a future she was ready to throw everything considered trivial away for, and seemed to have the perfect justification for it. It had shaken him to the core to see that she could turn her back on him so easily, but Toothless wasn't like her; having touched in body and soul, Hiccup could beyond any doubt consider him a true friend.
"I promise… Toothless."
He just held the gaze for as long as he could, hearing Toothless's panicked breathing eventually settle down into a calm purr. He pulled away and gave Hiccup a small lick to the face, Hiccup laughing at the feel of his slimy tongue. He grabbed Toothless's head and neck and gave him a brief hug before breaking loose and headed for the break in the rock.
"Bye, Toothless! I'll see you… tomorrow!" He waved as he ran.
The dragon barked back as he waited there, wagging his tail and licking his lips. All it would take was a day, and he would see Hiccup again.
Hiccup ran through the woods, wracking his short-term memory through all the excitement of playing with Toothless to remember the path through the cove. He tried his best to think on his feet while just traversing through the path, hoping the right way would present itself. Bushes and sticks cracked along the ground, grass fluttered in the breeze created by the rush of his little body, and low hanging branches were swept away in his wake. He made it past the big rock where he first found Toothless and hopped over the old rotting log, just trying to get as far as possible from the cove in the hope his father wouldn't track down his path to the cove where Toothless was.
Dashing through, he spotted something over in the distance at the corner of his eye, and backtracked to get a closer look. A large group of masses, traveling together, in hues of greens, grays, and browns far into the forest's dense ranks of trees and shrubbery. Hiccup could identify the lead one as his father by the red beard and slightly larger size compared to the others that helped him earn his name.
Judging by the others with him, it would seem that he had organized a full search party to hunt the little escapee down. Hiccup grimaced at the sight of the men armed with their sharpest and heaviest battle-axes and swords, barely even able to picture the bloodbath that might have occurred should they have found him moments before in the cove.
Hiccup crossed the distance from his path to theirs, swerving past the trees in between to intercept the group. The multitude of branches and pine needles barely allowed any sunlight to get through, leaving the path cloaked in a shadow that darkened the ground and hid various rocks and fallen pinecones from his sight. He had actually stubbed his toes on a few of the wayward stones, but managed to overall traverse through the trees safely.
"Daddy!" Hiccup cried from inside the trees, alerting the Vikings to raise their weapons in response.
Hiccup emerged from the low hanging branches, feeling his skin itch from the needles that had managed to stick to his cloak and irritated his sensitive skin underneath. He nearly fell back in shock upon seeing all of the men with their weapons up looking as if ready to attack him. But Stoick had managed to snap out of his battle-ready state and rather harshly grabbed Hiccup by the arm and pull him forward.
"Hiccup! What do you think you're doing!? How many times have I warned you never to go into the forest by yourself!?" He angrily yelled.
The boy was left terrified by his father's angry tone and grip as tight as a vice, ready to crush his arm at any moment. One thing that struck him though was that he didn't even bother to ask if he was alright, he had just gone straight into reprimanding him. There wasn't even a hint of concern in his features, just a glare strong enough to spook a bear into fleeing that spoke of how he was ready to deal punishment regardless of who found who first.
"I-I-I was j-just…" Hiccup stuttered, unable to form a single word in the face of his father's intimidating stature.
"I give you a single, simple order and you don't listen! Time 'n time again I've spoken of these woods being no place for children! If Astrid hadn't told me about your runnin' off, you would have been some wild animal's aftarnoon snack by the time I got here!"
"A pret'y ligh' aftarnoon snack…" chimed in Gobber, who was standing right behind Stoick and twirling his braided moustache. A glare from Stoick shut the crippled smith right up.
He turned back to Hiccup and if it were even possible, his angered look doubled in intensity. "Are you tryin' ta make me look foolish? First that contraption and now this, gallavantin' off into unknown territory?"
"B-but, daddy-"
"This is no way for the heir of Berk ta act! I hope at tha' very least you have a good explanation for disobeyin me!" He let go of Hiccup and crossed his arms in an impatient manner, staring down at the boy like a giant would an insect. His large size cast a shadow that caged Hiccup within its radius, freezing him to the spot where he stood. "Well, out with it, boy!"
Hiccup fidgeted in place, looking down at the ground and overall doing his best not to look the fiery-haired and tempered chief right in the eye. He figured it might be pointless, but he might as well try. "W-Well, S-Snotlout and the others… um, they were… they were b-bullying me… and…"
A normal father who had a greater sense of care for their child would have stopped everything and asked for more information, and said he would have a talk with the parents of the bully in question. Stoick however, who only saw the cowering child in front of him as another immature youth of his tribe rather than the son he was, only scoffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. Not even the mention of bullying or his child's suffering could have triggered the small scraps of fatherly instinct within him.
"Enough, Hiccup! Don' go blaming others for your insubordination - I will not accept such shameful actions!" He held out a hand towards the boy in signal to halt before bending down and jabbing him with a finger to the chest, making the boy fall over. "You have a great responsibility to the people, you're going to be chief of this tribe one day!" He scolded. "How do you expect ta be a proper leader, rally warriors and give direction when ya cannae even follow those that have been given to you?"
He would have put it past the young boy, but Hiccup was thinking about the whole 'succession to chief' thing for a long time now. Of course he had decided from the very beginning that he didn't really want to be a chief. Sure he said that he was going to be chief one day to people, but that was so he could hold on to what little respect people carried for him. He had left silent any personal feelings on the matter long ago figuring that he would have had little choice in the matter, any complaints he would utter falling on deaf ears. He couldn't imagine himself organizing repairs and hunting trips, issuing decrees for new laws, being stuck in stuffy rooms for war meetings, and overall maintaining stability in a village of rowdy, rude, and brutish Vikings faced with an ongoing centuries old war. Besides, it's not like anyone would listen to him or give him any quarter as a leader anyway – not even of age yet and he could hear whisperings of who else might be qualified for the job.
"I-I'm sorry, dad…" Hiccup whimpered, his affectionate spin of 'daddy' now officially tossed out to sea. He didn't have room to be a child now, not when so many were breathing down his neck and expecting so much of him.
Sighing heavily, Stoick grabbed Hiccup by the collar of his tunic and was ready to pass him off to Gobber when he noticed the huge tear in the back. His eyes widened and annoyance came back in full swing. Shaking Hiccup with a violent jerk, he shouted again. "What is this!? What happened to yur tunic!"
Hiccup gulped, not sure what he should tell his father; a single word of Toothless and his father would ground him for eternity. What's worse, Toothless might end up a pelt on the floor or a blanket for some thuggish child like Snotlout once he tracked him down and drove a sword through his head. He could say some wild animal chewed it up, but that was more than likely to get Stoick even madder as it would only have proved his point on the dangers of the woods. Thinking quickly, he responded.
"Uh, uh… I-I-I was just, um, playing, and uh… my tunic got caught, on… a branch. Really got stuck there… and-and I, and I tugged, and it just… um, err, tore off. My favorite tunic, totally ruined, just like that. I-I mean, the seamstress put a lot of effort into it, it was just so woolly and soft, and it was my favorite color and…" he rambled on and on, a tendency of his whenever he got nervous or when he tried to lie and failed miserably.
"Tha huge tear… came from a branch?" Gobber asked skeptically, his eyebrow raised and his hook pointed straight at him.
"I-It was… a really pointy branch?" He questioned more than answered. By now it should have been obvious, even to the densest Viking on the island that he was lying.
But his father seemed too exhausted and annoyed to really care; he just rubbed a hand to his face to wipe the fatigue his unruly son gave away. "Just… forget it. Gobber, take him back to the house." He passed the boy off, who was recaptured by the smith's hook. "From now on, he's not ta leave the house except ta go to the forge, an' I want an escort with him at all times when he does."
"An' where're you going ta be?" Gobber asked.
"Preparing the ships – we're settin' sail for the nest." Hiccup's eyes fell down to the ground again and his face saddened. His father had been hunting for the dragon's nest ever since he was born, each search more fruitless than the last. He would spend days gathering crews and loading weapons onto their armed boats only to lose them all once they sailed into the bogs of Helheim's Gate and come out with almost as many singes and cracks on their vessels as hairs in their beards.
But however many failures he experienced only seemed to push him further in his pursuit to destroy it and drive the dragons away to find a new nest. Results aside, the trips had cause him to spend long months away from home, and they had occurred with such frequency that Hiccup had started to think there was more to it than his desire to free Berk of the 'devils' menace.'
"Shoulda known tha' was coming…" Gobber said. "Right, come on, ya lit'l fishbone. Off we go." He started to make way back to the village with Hiccup in tow, passing the other men who all had tired looks on their faces and slouched postures, hefting their weapons on their shoulders or hanging limply from their sides.
Hiccup turned back to his father one last time, not sure what he wanted to say but just feeling he needed to say something. Whether to perhaps advise him against searching for the dragon's nest or to try telling him about Snotlout again, it simply started as "But, dad-"
"I said no excuses! I am very disappointed in you, Hiccup; it's about time you stopped these childish games and learn ta grow up!" That was all Stoick said as he trudged ahead, not even sparing his hurting son a second glance.
As soon as he was ahead, he just gave yet another heavy sigh, slowing his pace and letting fatigue sink in. Beyond anyone else's opinion, he was perfectly aware that that may not have been the best way to handle the situation. He remembered how his own father had been a bit fairer whenever he had gotten in trouble, but those moments were few and far between. Stoick had always been a model son and obeyed his father without question, even when his father ordered him to bang his head against rocks or punch through trees and jump off cliffs to help him see a viking's true strength.
Whenever he asked the same of Hiccup, he had always been met with rebellion, his son slapping logic in the face of his claims. He imagined how his dead wife Valka, who was less taken to violence than most others in Berk would have handled the situation with a more gentle touch and a calmer demeanor. She had always been better at this sort of thing, talking to and comforting children, and would have all the time to do it being expected to stay home with Hiccup were she still alive.
But he couldn't think of 'what ifs' or 'how would they do its' now; he was on his own, a single father who had admittedly something of a problem child, and had to figure things out for himself in the midst of trying to keep a whole village together. He was trying to protect him, prepare him for his future, and if that included overly strict discipline to ensure Hiccup wouldn't repeat his many mistakes, so be it.
The last rays of the sun were disappearing over the horizon by the time the group had made it back to the village, casting the island into the early moments of dusk and turning the vibrant blues of the sea to a near black. The first torches were already being lit up on the front of the houses, being carried around by men who were still carrying out last-minute duties, or up on the high beams that would allow clear searches of the night sky for any possible dragon attacks. Each of these individual flames dotted throughout lighted the path back down to their destination, the chief's house on the hill.
The other men had already returned to their homes the second they had passed the forest's edge back into Berk. Children and women were coming inside after a hard day's work, while Stoick was on his way to the Great Hall to spend another long night making preparations for the new hunt. Hiccup let out another sigh; obviously that meant his father wouldn't be around to wish him goodnight. Not that he ever did, really.
His father's indifference towards him was as cold as the biting evening wind that no longer had the daylight heat to warm its touch and seeped into his open ended tunic and chilled his skin. Every day, it was one excuse or another to make sure they didn't spend any time together, either he had somewhere to go or he made sure that Hiccup did, always falling back on the old 'a chief's duty is to his people' rant.
It was the same as Astrid: everywhere he went people were coming up with whatever reason they could to avoid him. It was an ongoing crusade in the minds of the villagers to ensure that they saw as little of the boy as possible throughout the day. In the back of his mind, Hiccup questioned why it was such a big deal that he went missing into the woods if this was true. It certainly wasn't like anyone would miss him if he was gone.
And looking around, that very well seemed to be the case. They passed several people on their way over, and not one of them even bothered to make eye contact with him. No one even noticed or cared that he had gone missing, and he was supposed to be the heir. The most important boy in their village, supposedly and he wasn't even worth their time, it seemed. It was enough to place dark thoughts into the child's mind…
…Which weren't made any better when a rugged Viking built as well as his father trudged up. His uncle and Snotlout's father, Spitelout. His heavy footsteps had managed to catch the attention of Gobber, who was still dangling Hiccup by his collar. With a limping turn, he faced the approaching second-in-command.
"Ah, evenin', Spitelout." Gobber greeted.
"I see you've managed ta catch our lit'l runaway." Spitelout said, always the type to get down to business.
Gobber only scowled slightly at his response. Sure, children weren't his most favorite people in the world, but he always had a particular distaste for Spitelout's harsher than necessary attitude toward them. He had always been one to care more about glory and achievement than things that really mattered like family. A good look at the mantle above his house's fireplace was proof of how he tended to favor stoking the fires of his ego, the wood littered with nothing but medals and trophies from wins in his youth. It was already clear from earlier today that his pompous attitude had passed onto his son, and in Gobber's opinion, the only thing worse than one Spitelout was one and a half Spitelouts.
"Yeah, gutsy, ain't 'e? Headin' out inta the woods…" Gobber mused, hoping to bolster Hiccup's status.
"Valor and carelessness are two very different things, Gobber." Spitelout said crossing his arms. "But nevar mind tha', why don' you let me take the lad home? I'm sure you've plenty o' things to take care of over at tha' forge…"
If there was one word that summed up Gobber's expression at that moment, it was suspicion. Spitelout hardly showed generosity to anyone. Just the opposite, as opposed to Stoick, Spitelout was more harsh and demanding, a man who expected perfection from everyone. Stoick believed in a sense of community, whereas Spitelout insisted that everyone carry their own weight and solve issues by themselves. No way would he willingly lend a helping hand unless there was some ulterior motive, not that he was all that proud of that kind of shifty attitude.
"Migh'y kind o' ya, worryin' as tha' is, but s'not a problem." He said. "Chief's orders, get him home an' make sure he stays there."
"Oh, but tha' doesn't haf'ta mean you, necessarily." Spitelout argued.
"You know yur brother – man 'o few words. Pretty sure it's implied."
"Oh, I do know ma brother, and he'd want everyone in their proper place fulfillin' their duties."
"I think a' can handle getting' a seven year old to his house." Gobber deadpanned. Hiccup meanwhile, just watched his mentor trade banter with his uncle, preferring to keep his eyes on the former.
"Like you could handle keepin him in the forge doin' his job?" Spitelout countered, earning a heated glare from Gobber. "Look, all I'm sayin' is tha' it's important we're where we're needed most. The raids come whenever they will, and we need tae be prepared tae defend our stores and homes at a moment's notice – you wouldnae want a man ta fall just because they were ill-prepared, would you?"
As much as he hated to admit it, Spitelout did have a point; they needed proper weapons to fight, and Gobber was the one who handled all weapon creation and repair. Though they could boast that they did, Vikings couldn't just go into battle armed with kitchen utensils or any other kind of metal. They needed blades sharp enough to split hairs and sturdy enough to remain pristine even after they had hacked into 100 dragons each. With a heavy sigh, Gobber handed Hiccup over to Spitelout, and started to hobble off to the forge to finish his day's work, tuning to look at the two from the corner of his eye.
"You jest watch yerself." He simply stated.
Spitelout, who held Hiccup, again by the scruff of his tunic, gave a sly grin. "Let's nae be too rough on the lad."
"I was talkin' tae you." Gobber said, and with that he headed down to the forge.
Spitelout, meanwhile, had let his grin fade away completely, replacing it with a dark scowl of disgust as he carried Hiccup through the village and back to his home. Hiccup kept his head down the whole way, something inside him telling him to avoid the gaze of the larger man as much as he could. He had tried to speak with his uncle several times along the way, whether about Snotlout or daily things around the village, but barely any sounds could escape his throat when he defied his better judgment and glanced up at his uncle's face. It suddenly felt twice as cold as they walked up the stone steps that lead to the Haddock household on the hill, stopping at the front door.
As soon as Spitelout carelessly dropped Hiccup on the floor, the boy landing less than gracefully on his rear, he was ready to turn back. He was stopped, however, by a hastily blurted out. "Wait!"
He turned back to see Hiccup at the doorstep, fidgeting in place with his hands right behind his back. Such a sight only left Spitelout more disgusted with the boy than he already was, a posture such as that completely unbecoming for a Viking. Everything about the boy screamed weakness, a trait he could not accept in any member of his tribe, and he took satisfaction in the knowledge that he wasn't alone.
Hiccup, after a few seconds, finally worked up the nerve to finish his statement. "Um, thanks… f-for bringing me home…"
Spitelout only stood there and glared daggers at the boy, causing him to flinch even more. "Y-You didn't have to do that… I-I mean, go to… to all that trouble…"
"No, I shouldn't have…"
Hiccup dared to glance up and meet the icy cold stare of his unforgiving uncle. "No one should havtae waste their time on a useless weaklin' like you. You're a disgrace to all of Berk, all Vikings everywhere, and it shames us tae no end to be saddled with you as an heir."
It hurt, it hurt to hear those words, the most painful words he had heard both today and in a long while. They hurt more than anything Astrid, Snotlout, or his father could say, because while they only danced around the subject, here his uncle was saying it as clear and blunt as possible. A thousand axes had cut right through his heart at that moment, pressing down on the blades so the blood would pour out like a waterfall. With each step his uncle took towards him, the blade pressed further in, until he bended down and whispered in as low a tone as he could possibly muster.
"You don't belong here."
And with that he stomped off, leaving Hiccup to stand there in devastated silence. A good five minutes of staring out at empty space had passed before he finally shut the door.
Hiccup just quietly steeped up the stairs of his dark, empty home up to his room and hopped into his hard bed without bothering to change into a new tunic, wrapping himself as tightly as possible with the blankets. All he wanted to do was drift to sleep and hopefully drown out the horrible memories of today, of all the misery he went through at the hands of people he thought he could trust.
He only wanted to remember the good memories, all of which involved that little black dragon probably still waiting there in that cove in the woods. He just wanted to lose himself in the happy moments of playing with Toothless, eating with Toothless, napping with Toothless, and the promise to see Toothless again. Forcing his brain to focus on those memories alone, not allowing even a half-second to recall the scolding, abusive voices of his 'people,' he eventually wore himself out and fell into a deep sleep.
He had expected, in his subconscious mind, to dream of big adventures he would have with Toothless. He had thought of the two of them sailing the seas on a big ship, navigating through the waves and staring out across the horizon. He thought of them climbing up the huge mountain on the side of the island, and looking down on the world once they had reached the top. He dreamed of every possible adventure he could have with Toothless, big or small, land or sea.
He didn't expect the inexplicable images that popped into his mind, hazy visions that gave such a sense of foreboding.
A man dressed in armor as black as night, wielding swords resembling dragon wings that burned with purple fire on the back of a large black dragon.
The two flying through a kingdom of large buildings, ancient in appearance, beneath a heavily overcast sky.
A dragon the size of a mountain, breathing massive torrents of fire that could melt rock to nothing.
The flames turning to surges of ocean water that froze upon impact, from the mouth of a just as massive black dragon that locked its mighty tusks with another of its kind, colored white.
Skeletal draconic creatures with hides of blackened mist filling the sky, some large enough to carry bone-like castle structures upon their backs, commanded by an intimidating man with scars littering his face, a metal arm, and a large hooked staff
The rider and dragon turning into a streak of blue light with a black outline that zipped through multiple ships at lighting speed and decimated them in terrible explosions before bursting into the sky.
A flash of light.
And in front of him, a strange sword with strings along the blade and switches upon the hilt. He grasped it with a single hand, and the blade came alight with flame.
Hiccup suddenly gasped and awoke, sitting upright in his bed with sweat pouring down his tiny, freckled cheeks. He gripped the blanket as tight as he could, his mind littered with confusion over the strange dream. Could he even call it a dream? Well, whatever it was, out of his bafflement, he knew one thing for certain.
He had to see Toothless again.
Sorry if everybody is coming off a bit harsh to poor little Hiccup, but there is a purpose for all of it. As for the dream sequence, there's a thing with that. It was written to give you guys a preview of what's to come in future chapters. Give you guys a chance to test the waters, so to speak. If you like how it's sounding, then as I always say: review, favorite, follow! If you're already along for the ride, hope you stay on!
