Hi. So… I have no excuses. I kinda maybe sorta got hooked on making pretty items for another site I frequent. o3o; So before someone shoves me off a cliff for not updating this story in three weeks, I got writing.
Please R&R!
Stoick's feet were firmly planted on the ground from where he stood, unmoving and motionless. His eyes were glued on the scene that unfolded in front of him, watching Toothless' every twitch and every move. This was it-The Curse of the Night Fury. Every youth who dared to touch the mighty dragon will one day meet a gruesome fate.
The chief's mouth hanged open, not a sound escaping through. He simply flashed back to not 24 hours ago, in which he lost he son. Astrid was practically a daughter to him. How much did he want to move, to scream and shout, to save her! But, alas, Stoick felt powerless for the second time in his life.
The human mind often played tricks that nobody could understand. Stoick saw himself kneeling next to Astrid's cold body next to the sobbing Hofferson's, whispering apologies that would never be heard. He saw himself be hated, not for the deeds that he had done, but for his inaction in protecting his own. More importantly, he saw himself explaining to every surviving Viking how he, Stoick the Vast, was scared.
Stoick had to remember that Astrid was not Hiccup.
Hiccup was naive, dangerously believing that dragons would not harm him no matter what. Astrid, on the other hand, was a headstrong Viking who understood that Toothless was no longer Toothless, but simply a disposable pawn of the Alpha's. While Stoick was busy coming up with a million and one ways to apologize, the young woman ducked out of the way and somersaulted to safety. With her axe gripped firmly in her hands, she readied herself for an onslaught of attacks.
Of course, she couldn't attack Toothless. Nobody could. He was Hiccup's best friend, the dragon who showed the Vikings a whole new world of possibilities-Toothless was family.
Drago laughed. "Weaklings."
All hell broke loose.
In the most atrocious of scenarios, Berk's dragons started attacking the village. Was this an act of betrayal? Of war? Even so, the Vikings present grabbed shields and threw away their axes and swords (although some grabbed sticks), because how could they hurt their friends?
It was unfair.
How could it be fair? This was no longer a fight of brawl and a test for survival: this was a relentless attack on their minds and hearts. Stoick's blood boiled. How dare he! At this point in time, all he wanted to do was bash that villain's face into a lovely piece of sedimentary rock. But first-
"Astrid!" Stoick's voice bellowed.
The young woman didn't need to think twice before evading the last of Toothless' plasma blasts and swiftly getting out of the way as Berk's chief hurled the hammer in his hand towards the Night Fury. Of course, the weapon missed, but it did was Stoick wanted it to do: getting the dragon's attention. Toothless, seemingly furious, growled at the large man and bared his teeth.
All Stoick saw was a bloodthirsty killer, a monster hungry for murder. He shook his head. Hiccup saw a dragon in agony, lost in the control of the Alpha. Stupid boy. Stupid father as well. He looked deep into Toothless' eyes as he slowly approached the dragon, like Hiccup had taught him in case he would ever meet a wild reptile. His right hand slowly stretched out in front of him, moving ever so closer to the Night Fury's muzzle. It's okay, Stoick told himself. Everything will be okay.
From afar, the Night Fury looked angry and malicious. Only at close range could any Viking see that the dragon was shaking, scared, and still fighting for control. His paws trembled and his claws dug deep into the soil, motionless and waiting just like Stoick when the man watched the dragon attack Astrid.
Toothless never expected Stoick's touch to be so gentle.
The callused hand lay softly on the Night Fury's muzzle, feeling the warm air leave with each exhalation. What would Hiccup do?
"It's okay," Stoick said. "It wasn't your fault." The sentence came out sounding wrong and fake.
The tired man tried everything from, "Please, Toothless," to "You wouldn't hurt anyone," though nothing seemed to work. Toothless, on the other hand, opened his mouth, readying a plasma blast. Was this it? Was there no way from breaking the bond between the Alpha and him? Was this a futile effort from the start? Should he-no. No, there was no way Stoick would ever say that to the dragon. But…
Stoick leaned down and sighed. His eyes, unyielding but soft, once again held Toothless' gaze. He had to do this. For his son. "I forgive you," he whispered. These words were heavy, and perhaps an insult to all parents whose child were murdered. But Toothless wasn't a murderer-Drago was.
As if on cue, Toothless shook his head and blinked a couple times, the slits of his eyes widening. He cooed and nudged Stoick, looking like a lost child. That's more like it.
"You did it!" Astrid cheered. The Bewilderbeast's control was strong, but not unbreakable. Nothing was hopeless, and Toothless returning to them was proof of that.
"Let's get our dragons ba-" Stoick didn't have time to finish his sentence before Drago hopped down from his steed and landed in front of them.
"How did you do that?" he asked in disbelief. "That's impossible!"
This just made Stoick's job much easier. His mind was already brainstorming ideas on how to get that man onto the ground so there would be more of a fight.
"Time for payback." These words were filled with animosity and venom that it almost scared Stoick himself. Did he really say that? Was he capable of such hate? Yes, of course-his son was just murdered.
Screw shields and weapons: Stoick was going into this fight with his bare hands (if he could punch a Monstrous Nightmare into submission, then a human would be a piece of cake). Poor, poor Drago. Before he had time to think, Stoick had already nailed him in the nose with a full-force punch. This would be a ferocious match between Drago, the so-called "Dragon Master", and the Chief of Berk.
The first thing Stoick needed to do was to disarm Drago. Luckily it was an easy feat, considering the fact that the scarred man was still recovering from the previous blow. The stick was roughly ripped from his hands and thrown several feet away. Stoick didn't stop there, however, because soon he headbutted Drago with all his might (Stoick, though, didn't suffer any damage-he had a helmet). The chief's opponent was now scrambling for a way to defend himself. Maybe his cape? How idiotic. Dragon skin is a great shield against fire. Sadly, it made quite the wimpy shield against a raging father. With a final punch to the jawbone and a kick to the gut, Drago tumbled back.
"It's over," Stoick stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
Drago, holding his bloodied and bruised face, only smiled. "Or is it?"
At first, Stoick was confused. What did he mean, "Or is it?" A deep growl emitted to his right, and he realized something: while he was preoccupied with beating his nemesis, the Bewilderbeast had positioned himself right over the two. And now, with Drago safely out of the way, Stoick would suffer an icy death. Great Odin.
Instincts took over, and Stoick bolted for safety. The human acceleration and running speed, no matter how in shape or healthy said human was, would never be able to outrun a Bewilderbeast's blast. A Night Fury, on the other hand, could.
Stoick saw a flash of black and felt himself pushed (or rather, "flung") from his spot, then not-too-gracefully landed outside of the blast zone.
No, no, no, no, no, no! "Toothless!" Sure, a dragon could survive flying through fire, but what about encased in a thick layer of ice? Stoick didn't know. All he knew was that the Night Fury saved him from a certain doom. And now both rider and dragon were gone.
Of course, there were many things that Stoick didn't know. For instance, a dragon could, indeed, survive a Bewilderbeast's blast. Another nice little tidbit would be that no Viking or dragon should get in the way of an enraged Night Fury.
From within the entrapment, Toothless exploded forth glowing blue, absolutely furious. He screamed and screeched at the Alpha, seemingly daring him to hurt another friend of his. What is he doing? With a deafening roar, Toothless hopped onto a lengthy ice spike and shot one of his explosive plasma at the beast. Is he crazy? Stoick wondered. A little dragon versus a giant Bewilderbeast more than two thousand times his size? Toothless would certainly lose. But then, Stoick realized, that the reason why Toothless was glowing blue was because the little guy was overflowing with his plasma, ready to take down the beast.
Blast after blast, shot after shot, Toothless aimed directly at the Bewilderbeast without a hint of fear. The chief along with the rest of the Vikings, were in awe.
"He's challenging the Alpha," Valka explained. "To protect us."
"Where were you the entire time?" Of course this question had to be asked.
A sad smile crossed her lips. "Rooting for you and helping the wounded to safety."
The Bewilderbeast swung his horns down, destroying Toothless' platform. Such an act did not deter the brave Night Fury, because his attacks did not stop. Not until he knew his home was safe from these ruthless killers.
At the heat of his attack, the Bewilderbeast started to lose control of the other dragons. It was only natural, because who could keep track of their pawns when he himself was being showered with blasts? That, or the other dragons stopped listening to the Bewilderbeast. It wasn't really clear to Stoick, but one thing was for sure: the dragons, one by one, left Drago's side to join Berk's. Soon, they had a giant army hovering above the small island, all willing to fight back.
This was a testament to their long-lasting friendship and loyalty.
Drago wasn't so thrilled. A slur of curses among other hurtful phrases escaped his mouth at the thought of losing all of the dragons he had worked so hard to amass. He climbed onto the gigantic dragon's tusk, ordering him to do something. Nothing could be done now.
"Attack us again-" Stoick stated. "-and we will destroy you."
That was, if Drago could make it out alive. Hundreds, if not thousands, of dragons started to send their own blasts toward the Bewilderbeast. The large dragon was writhing in pain from the attacks (who wouldn't?).
A beast, no matter how mighty, would one day fall. Today, the Alpha who controlled a swarm of dragons not an hour ago would fall at the hands of his own pawns. With a final blast, one of the Bewilderbeast's tusks broke off and fell to the ground. A "clung" echoed through the air, now perfectly still, followed by the injured dragon's frightened roar. Without looking back, the Bewilderbeast retreated into the sea, dragging an unwilling Drago down with him.
Toothless won.
Drago was gone.
Peace has been restored, once again. Stoick took a step toward the dragon perched atop the ice, but found himself staggering back to where he just stood. He should be happy. Vikings should be happy. But no one cheered. No one smiled. They only sighed, in sadness or in relief, each hugging or petting their own dragons who had returned to their side.
Today, Berk won.
Yesterday, a father lost his whole world.
A rushed scene just like the movie's rushed climax and denouement, yah? 8'D
Also, there will be one more chapter: the epilogue! And after that, two more sequels! Yes I'm getting ahead of myself, but remember I spent a full month brainstorming and writing the preliminary draft for them. "Every end is a new beginning." C: