A/n: You guys. Are the best. No, for reals. You don't even know...
Augh but this chapter is so... dialogue-less. What tiny bit is in there is more like monologue, and the rest is just ostentatious drivel.
Still, enjoy!
It began with a question.
It came to Hiccup at the break of a grey dawn, as he labored quietly in the warehouse closest to the domed arena. It came just as he carefully began to pick out the eels from his thick wicker basket, letting them slide from between his slickened fingers back into the massive fish barrel.
The stores of food in the village were plentiful with so many warriors still at sea, the bulky warships chocked with ironclad men and women and an unthinking loyalty to the chieftain – even as he stabbed blindly, recklessly, at his winged enemies. In his quest to find and seize the dragons' nest, to draw the sword of Stoick's army through the heart of Berk's suffering, many ships had set forth, and many had never returned.
Only days back, Stoick's proud eyes had peered down from one of those ships, resolving to pursue the fire-breathing raiders himself, abandoning his village and his kin with a funny gleam in his sharp eyes – not fear, nor regret, nothing so fragile. It was only a simple truth, a candid uncertainty that he would ever again walk along the wide village pathways, hear the stomping and the mead-ridden laughter in the great assembly hall, feel wool still warm upon a lamb's back beneath his big hands, or see the tufts of auburn, the rounded myrtle, and the freckled pallor that composed his only son.
It was a gamble that every warrior faced with fearless honor, that every family met with tearless grace, even as their hearts stammered beneath their breasts.
Hiccup did not let his mind linger on the ships, knowing too well that even a thought can paralyze. Instead, he filled his head with too much else to leave room for even the mammoth Viking vessels. He filled it with a black, slithering tail fin and its leather twin, with yet undrawn sketches upon sketches of adjustments and re-measurements, with every crazy and inconceivable method of keeping the leather open, of controlling its tilt against the whirling wind, with the slide of a smooth, cool palm against his own...
The eels slapped against the other fish in the barrel with a sickening splat. Hiccup's lips twisted and his nostrils flared.
Unfortunately, his spinning head was also preoccupied with the unpleasant business of the Night Fury's diet.
It was strange, really, this inclination towards fish, when the creature so clearly disliked water. Or perhaps he distrusted what lay in the depths of the darkest blue, particularly when he was wounded. Perhaps at full strength he could catch his meals easily from the shallows, or snatch them up with only a quick dip beneath the water's surface in the midst of flight, like a seabird.
Hiccup smiled a little despite his chore. The Night Fury was so unlike the other beasts of the air. It was uncanny to think they were even kin, but the very basics of a dragon, the fire, wings, claws, scales – it could not be denied that he was some variant of their kind. But this one was so very different, and not just physically. He was surely a creature of far greater intelligence, not so swayed by animal bloodthirst as his cousins. With a gentle persuasion of trust, he could be reconciled to sheath the teeth and claws that would threaten – no, defend – and turn from enemy to friend. The Night Fury was not unlike men. Complicated, sophisticated, and capable of reason and compassion. He was really nothing like the other snarling, hissing, horrific—
Then he froze. It had struck him, the question that marked the beginning of something more dangerous than any threat to flesh or bone, an idea his insatiable curiosity was inexorably bound to hit, a path no Viking had ever allowed himself to wander in all the three centuries of war waged between man and dragon.
The memory of that first day in the woods shot through him, like one of Thor's electric bolts. The Night Fury's contorted face snarled into his own, claws at his neck, the power of several men in a single hand pining him down. It melded with the image of every dragon Hiccup had ever seen, demolishing houses with a single belching burst of flame, slamming into warriors who never rose again, spilling red from limp necks onto wool and fur, furious eyes on men's weapons as they ripped entire limbs apart to disarm them.
And then he recalled the Night Fury's second impression, unguarded, simple curiosity glinting in his wide, soothing eyes. He smiled and even seemed to laugh. He played games. He touched hands.
Hiccup had assumed the Night Fury was an exception. Vikings knew so little of that particular breed, and his appearance alone set him greatly apart. But what they did know of the common breeds, scribed carefully within the leather bindings of the Book of Dragons, was only their strengths, weaknesses, methods of attack, how they could be killed – the observations of a warrior.
Now, the faces of men and women in battle loomed in Hiccup's mind, the way their faces twisted, how they clenched their teeth, the wracking war cries rising above the fervid masses, the madness in his own father's eyes when he swung his axe at his enemies. But then, when war was won, when the vicious cheers faded, the faces would lax. Brothers embraced, the warriors took hold of their children and mourned the fallen, and in the moments when it seemed no one could see, even Stoick the Vast would stop, grip the end of the long table, and breathe – as though he had to remind himself how.
Everyone wore a different face in battle. When the fighting stopped, when nothing threatened life or honor, they let the shroud fall. Even the Night Fury had revealed his gentler face, hidden at first in a bestial lash of anger and fear. So was it possible... did the other dragons also have this dimension to them? Were they not the single-minded monsters war had led humans to believe? Had anyone even tried to find out, thought even for a moment that there could be depth or reason within this enemy?
Were dragon and man so different?
And there it was, the most dangerous question a Viking could ask.
It is the food of the philosopher, the revelation of the soul-searcher, to suppose he and his enemy are one. It is the destroyer of conviction, the undoing of tradition. It can collapse entire civilizations. It can rebuild them from the societal rubble.
But for the soldier, for the man at war, in a world too enclosed upon itself to see beyond its own horizon – it is sorrow, and almost certainly death.
Hiccup, for all that he had lived seventeen years under a cruel and archaic code of honor, was really still a child, that simple hope and zeal yet uncrushed beneath the bloody fists of war and tradition. So when his thoughts first stumbled upon the inevitable path his gentle nature would take him, he felt only interest and excitement. It was another unknown terrain to map out, and ever an eager explorer was he.
But where to begin?
The last eel dangled from his fingers, forgotten as his thoughts whirred through him. He glanced at the sea creature, no longer than his arm, lifeless eyes bulging and jaws of crooked fangs lolling open, uselessly. The boy's eyes grew wide with inspiration, and he tucked the eel into his vest.
...
The Zippleback dragon halted several inches from Hiccup's face. Each round, serpent-like head sniffed, and the four eyes widened.
Suddenly the two-headed dragon scrambled backwards, and the winding necks lurched away from the fallen boy with a mad sort of desperation. The dragon shrieked and howled, eyes lolling with uncontrollable emotion.
Hiccup was agog. He rose to his feet, and the dragon wailed louder still. The boy only peered at the gigantic creature in wonder, its steely green hide and hideous teeth, the claws digging frantically into the stone of the arena. Such a vast, indestructible creature, so utterly crippled by the fear of something so small, draped harmlessly over Hiccup's shoulder under his vest. The dragon writhed, and squawked, and shook, horror glazing over the two sets of eyes.
How could anyone mistake a dragon for an unfeeling beast?
The boy's face quickly slipped from intrigue to guilt. It was a cruel start to his study of dragons, terrifying the Zippleback with a careless trick. The Night Fury didn't make half so great a fuss, but he had already begun to build that creature's trust, hadn't so thoughtlessly introduced himself with a test rooted in fear. He did at least glean a crucial lesson, one so easy to overlook or forget.
He would never again underestimate a dragon's capacity for anguish.
Hiccup herded the beast back into its cage, aiming to end the conflict as quickly as he could. With some effort, he hauled the barred door shut behind it, fingers lingering along the metal stripes as he looked in at the quivering creature.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and turned.
His classmates stared.
No one spoke. The silence broke only when a student's weapon fell from his lax grasp, metal glancing off stone in a thin, drawn-out clatter. Gobber's thick lips parted beneath his yellow whiskers, then closed. Astrid's blue eyes were wide and avid. No one dared look away. They dared not move.
The young Vikings had watched the boy make a dragon quake with no more than a look, unarmed, chasing it back into its cage without the slightest trepidation in his step. Their eyes were now fixed on him in a way no Viking had ever regarded the slight boy before, a way that pricked at his spine until he shivered.
...
The sun was high by the time Hiccup slipped away from training, gathering his de-eeled fish basket for the Night Fury. He slid down the now familiar slopes of the lake valley, seeking out the dark creature's bright eyes. But the Night Fury was nowhere to be found.
"Hello?" he tried. Yesterday, the creature had approached immediately, eager for fish. Now, the valley stirred only with the gentle ripple of the lake and slight flutter of feathers among the trees.
Hiccup let his basket fall from his shoulder as he wandered, calling out with the beginnings of anxiety edging into his voice. Had the Night Fury recovered enough to climb from his granite prison? Could Hiccup find him again if he had? Would the Night Fury want to be found, to let him try at least to right the wrong he'd done?
The boy's lips pinched fretfully, and with a small sigh, he turned.
And a dark blur leapt at him.
Hiccup yelped, completely off-guard, jumping up and stumbling back all at once so that he misplaced his balance, and fell squarely on his backside.
The Night Fury skidded slightly to a halt barely a foot from the boy, a devilish quirk in his lips and wicked mirth gleaming in his eyes. Hiccup caught his breath again quickly and scowled up at the impish creature, but the gesture held about as much threat for the Night Fury as a flustered kitten's hiss. The creature laughed, a low and breathy sound, lowering to Hiccup's level and taking a seat, as though invited.
The boy glared still.
"You enjoy tormenting me," he muttered, "don't you?"
The Night Fury only replied with a soft growl past parted lips, intoned like an affirmation.
"Well, you're a thick git and- and you look like a toothless old bungler, so... there!"
Hiccup vaguely wondered why he had supposed insults, even if they hadn't fallen so clumsily, would have any impact whatsoever on the draconic being. And they didn't. The toothless-seeming Night Fury only lifted an amused brow at what must have been no more than excited sputtering to him.
"Oh for..." Hiccup sighed, choosing to cut to the chase, "Come on, then, let's see the tail."
The entire afternoon was spent with rope and hooks and the few tools he'd thought to bring, and many, many instances of Hiccup's inadvertent revenge on the creature's insolence. After yet another failure to keep the leather fin open, and the Night Fury's inevitable collision with the ground that followed, the boy winced and called out his millionth apology, rushing to the disgruntled being's side.
He tried again to show the Night Fury how to hold the rope attached to the tailfin, how to adjust his grip to bank left or dive down. It was all guesswork still, judged from a distance, testing and trying through the creature's attempts. But the Night Fury stared at the rope in his palm in utter perplexity. To a dragon, flying was second in nature only to breathing, not an equation, not a quantifiable science. He seemed to grasp what Hiccup wanted him to do, but the mechanical dissection of flight was so foreign that he was incapable of the quick recalculations and improvisation required to make any headway. Hiccup could only observe secondhand what didn't work and suggest something else, painstakingly gesturing and guiding the creature's hand with his own to explain.
But when he looked into the Night Fury's puzzled eyes, he saw that it was fruitless.
"Oh come on," he groaned, releasing the scaly arm. "You have to get this, I can't do it for y-"
Hiccup stopped. He blinked.
"...Okay, this may be madness," he admitted offhandedly. "But... it might work..."
And the boy ran off to collect the notebook and charcoal pencil among his small pile of tools, to begin designing something new and utterly insane.
A/n: ...Madness?
This. Is. SPARTAAAAAAAAAAA!
No it's not, but I can't write "madness" and not think of 300 lol. Mmm shirtless Fassbender... wait where was I?
Oh okay, so yea I'm afraid this may have been a bit convoluted, but I remember when I first saw the movie I honestly assumed the Night Fury was just the odd dragon out at first. It surprised me when it turned out all the dragons had been misjudged. Though Toothless clearly was smarter, and perhaps the most formidable, the whole point was that all dragons were tamable, and I'm not sure even Hiccup recognized this right away. However, in this story, the taming of the dragons will not be a simple thing...
And as for the eel thing, I will say it always bothered me a bit that Hiccup tossed the eel in the cage. Backing the Zippleback up and scaring it a little I get, but locking the eel in there with it seemed a little much. :/ So I ended up just taking that sentiment to the extreme.
Reviewers, I bow to thee.
UPDATE: YOU GUYS I'M SO SORRY THE NEXT CHAPT IS TAKING SO LONG! But I posted a little preview on my Tumblr - I'm spaceycrazylady and it's post/37596109589. Just a taste a incoming fluff! Again I'm sorry and the next chapter is coming!