Promises, Promises (HTTYD × Reader)

Prologue

A/N: New beginning! I feel like I jumped in too quickly and I just figured out how to rearrange the chapters. Also I found an alternate beginning scene on the DVD that I didn't know about. Obviously I don't own the video, but I added it for anybody who hasn't seen it.

So... let's start over!

Your POV

Revenge is a dish best served cold, at least that's what most people say. But most people don't have an ice-spitting dragon as their protector.

You do. Or you did until everything went wrong and you had to do something that most people your age never would have dreamed of in their wildest nightmares.

It was a considerably warm night in the southern reaches of the North Sea where a small fort sat, a prime night for trapping dragons. Or so the men on guard thought as they stared out at the peaceful forest just across the strait.

Suddenly, the forest went silent. Every bird stopped its song, every roar petered out, even the crashing waves ceased their pounding. The silence was deafening, sending shivers down the spines of the bravest among the men.

"Be ready, lads! She's out there somewhere." A tall, muscular man advised his comrades. His dark gaze scanned the forest, searching unsuccessfully for your hiding spot.

You waited until his eyes were pointed in the opposite direction then nodded to your older companion, a woman who crouched low on the back of her Stormcutter, Cloudjumper. Silently, the dragon stalked forward, its talons leaving barely a trace in the soft ground. You urged Zyphur to follow, eager to get to the real reason why you were here.

This was your mission, your choice, to take revenge for the dead Night Fury female you found not more than a hundred yards from your current hiding spot. But the body wasn't the only thing you found that night and the journey hadn't left you without marks either.

A twinge shot through your right shoulder, the wound that never healed sounding its complaints again. You tried to shake it off, to stay focused on the task at hand, but your mind had different ideas. A small black treasure flashed across your mind followed by a face with dark eyes and a blue tattoo on his chin.

I'm sorry. I wish it could be different, but you've thrown your lot in with them. You thought as you gave the order to begin the attack.

Cloudjumper and Zyphur sprang into action, followed by a large blue Dramillion, and a pesky little Terrible Terror, while an enormous white Bewilderbeast hung back to watch, just in case his assistance was required. Stealth was your companion's preferred method of conduct. Life had pounded - more like shredded - it into you that she was right.

Quietly flapping their wings, Zyphur and Cloudjumper flew to the shadows of the highest point of the fort. The wind whipped at your braids, your body unprotected because your armor was still unfinished. Zyphur angled herself so that you could get a birds-or dragon-eye view of the entire enemy camp, the waning crescent moon providing the slimmest sliver of light. You didn't need it. You knew the layout of the place from your previous encounter with these monsters.

In a hole, far below, covered by a metal grate, was the dragons that these trappers had collected to take to their master, Drago Bludvist. The thought of his name sent another pang through your shoulder. It was his doing that had left you like this, broken and resentful. His and one other who you didn't blame as much considering the pain that he had gone through to make sure that you stayed alive long enough to be considered dead.

One of the dragons in the hole stuck their head up to the bars. You could just barely make out the outline of a metal muzzle around its head. It let out a low plea for help as it gazed up at you. A passing guard yelled at it to be quiet as he smacked the bars with a short sword. The metallic clang reverbrating in the stillness. The dragon shrank back into the shadows, but kept its eyes glued to you. A smile curled the corners of your mouth. Don't worry, friend. Help is on the way!