I Am Dragonblood: Fury's Friend {Book One} (HTTYD Fanfic)

Chapter One - Pests

Berk. It may cold and forgotten, small and frozen, but it was home to seven generations of Vikings. Even with its summer days of frost and winter time of blizzards, he wouldn't swap it for the world. Except for one thing. 
    Dragons. 
    Most places had pests, be it mice or flies, but they were harmless compared to here. 
    Every so often a pack of dragons tore through the village, lighting huts with their fire and stealing sheep and yaks and chickens. The Vikings, being Vikings and therefore stubborn, wouldn't move out like most people would, but fought them with axes, hammers, swords and such like, but they always came back, day after day, week after week.
    Hiccup Horrendous Hadock the Third rushed into the blacksmith's forge, hurriedly tying on a leather apron and tripping over his own feet. 
    'Nice of ya to show up,' Gobber, the blacksmith, commented as he limped past. He dumped a blunted sword into brown haired boy's arms, who stumbled under the weight of it. The one armed, one legged Viking attached an axe to his interchangeable left hand. 'They need me out there. Stay. Put. There. You get the idea.' With that he yelled a battle cry and charged out into the fray, blond moustache flying.
    For once, Hiccup didn't complain at being left out of a raid yet again, like he had every single time there was one. He'd sensed something only minutes earlier, something like a tingle that had set the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. With a slight huff, he lifted the sword onto the grinding wheel, struggling to stop it from moving with his skinny arms and thinking, which he seemed to do a lot of. He'd had feelings like this at other raids before, but never as strong or certain that whatever it was was coming as this time. It, along with the yells and roars, had woken him up from his wooden bed. It had started a few weeks ago, first with his left shoulder, then both, and now it had worked into his spine too. It was a dull ache mixed with tingling and numbness. A strange combination that put him on edge. At every dragon raid it had grown stronger then dulled down again when the attack was over, but never had it been as strong as it was now. 
    That was when he heard it. 
    A shriek filled the night sky, followed by a blast of bright blue fire.  He dropped the sword with a clang and ran to the serving hatch, in time to see a black shape dart across the firelight. This was it, that was the thing he'd unconsciously been waiting for. Hiccup grabbed the handles of a bolas launcher that was stored in the forge and raced out the back of the smithy, ran to a small knoll and set up the device with a few deft movements. Within thirty seconds he was poised and ready, eyes trained on the sky. 
    'Come on, come on,' he muttered to himself, another thing he seemed to do a lot. A silhouette moved across the stars and he squinted through the sight at it, followed it, and fired. He was thrown back by the kickback, but still he clocked where the creature he'd shot fell. 'Yes! I did it! Did anyone see that?!' He punched the air in joy, not noticing an orange Monstrous Nightmare coming up behind him until he felt its hot breath on his neck. 'Except for you.'
    The Nightmare snorted and its razor-tooth filled jaws opened to snap at him. Without another thought Hiccup ran, with the dragon close behind, its fire blazing on its scales. He somehow ended up in the middle of the village, fire all around and screams of rage fuelled Vikings ringing in his ears. He hid behind a post, as if that would hide him from a giant fire breathing lizard, and slowly looked around behind it. Nothing. He sagged back in relief, thinking that he'd lost it, until he saw yellow reptilian eyes watching him. He stared at the Nightmare, and it stared back, its pupils dilating. It put its head to one side in a thoughtful way, as if contemplating why this stick of a Viking didn't attack it. Then its pupils retracted back to slits and it whisked away. 
    'Hiccup!'
    'Oh Thor,' Hiccup sighed. That was the Chief, Stoick the Vast. Also known as his dad. 
    A strong hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him away from the burning post. The Chief's red beard bristled like a deranged porcupine as he glared down at his son. 'What is he — what are you do you out?!' 
     A teen with a horned helmet on snorted. 'Maybe he wanted to be eaten,' the local bully, Snotlout said. 
    'Enough, Snotlout. Get back to the house, Hiccup,' Stoick glanced at Gobber. 'And make sure he gets there.' 
    On the way up the steps to his house, Gobber chatted pointlessly. At the door he finally realised that Hiccup hadn't heard a word of what he'd said, so he took the boy's shoulder in his good hand and looked him in the face. 'I know it's hard to believe, laddie, but he does love ya.'
    'Yeah, but as you said, it's hard to believe. Especially when he's yelling at you for being a disappointing talking fishbone of a son.'
    Hiccup shook off Gobber's hand and turned to the door. 'I just wanna be like you guys.' He went into his house and let the door shut behind him. He listened to the one legged Viking limp away, then he grabbed his dagger and escaped through a hidden door at the back of the house. There was a dragon out there for him to find. And when he did, he'd cut out its heart to show his dad that he was a Viking too. And with that heart, maybe the intense tingling feeling that had been nagging him for days would vanish. 

1009 words

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≈Flitt