How To Train Your Dragon

The Dream

A man of tall and slender stature stood before her, skin as pale as the hail with midnight hair and elegant green eyes. His face is sharp and angular, the jaggedness softened by the wide, mischievous grin and wild gleam in his brilliant eyes. His clothes are simple, clashing with the aristocratic features: a leather vest, long-sleeve tunic of dark green, loose pants of light brown with boots made of soft fur. He is sitting at the edge of a cliff, his legs dangling off the edge as he grins at her over his shoulder.

There is a soft light, not unlike a sunrise, but doesn't come from one source. It flows from everywhere, but doesn't feel like looking directly into the Sun. "Come join, mortal one." The man's voice, smooth and slick like oil but far more warm, called to her. (Name) hesitates, this man had appeared in her dreams multiple times since she had started saving dragons from traps set by her fellow Vikings, but had remained both nameless and conversation-less to her. He just spied on her from the background, a constant nuisance that plagued her mind when empty.

But, the instinct that controlled most of her actions was never set off by him, so she ignored him. As it has still yet to go off, she decides to join him at the edge. She looks down, gasping in awe of the lovely and breathtaking view in front of her. "Yes, it is a sight to behold, mortal. This is my favorite place all throughout Asgard to visit." The man said, voice running over her like a babbling brook: refreshing, constant, and full of promises. In the back of her mind, a slight wiggle sprung forward, warning her to not be seduced by his sweet voice and promising eyes.

Keeping her eyes firmly planted on a star twinkling in and out of existence, she finds the courage to speak. "I have finally figured out which god you are." His only response is an inquisitive sound, encouraging her to continue. "You're Loki, God of Mischief and Lies, patron God to all Thieves, Liars, and mischief makers. None of which that I am." (Name) says rather boldly, though she feels anything but. Loki is widely known throughout all stories to be traitor and not to be trifled with.

The sound of a warm, velvety chuckle broke her from her musings. The laughter vibrated throughout the air, filling her with a sort of energy not unlike when she had touched that metal. Her (e\c) eyes focused upon him, watching with a confused stare as his face flushed with the slight lack of breath. He soon gained controlled of himself, bright eyes staring back into her own.

"You, mortal, are one of the best liars that I have ever come across." When doubts and disbelief became clear across her face, he continued. "You have lied to your adopted father and that scrawny mortal boy, as well as your entire village." His grin became more of a smug smirk, "In fact, the only living things you have ever been utterly honest with is Your Dragon, yet you don't even realize it!" He was laughing once more, but this one was crueler and less inviting. The sound made her stomach curl in upon herself and feel ashamed and guilty.

She opened her mouth to deny- deny these horrible things that he was forcing upon her. But she couldn't. Because it was all true. She kept the secret of her dragon tongue from her village, father, and Hiccup. And they all believed her, regardless if they knew her well enough to lie or not was unimportant.

"See," Loki said, "you've even realized it yourself! Sweet Odin, I haven't had this much fun in decades!" His smirk changes to a softer, somehow kind grin. "I must be leaving, but first I will impart upon you knowledge of the gifts I've bestowed upon you." The flash of horror across her face resulted in him reaching a slender hand forward, brushing a stray lock away. "Do not worry, mortal; these gifts shall help you on your future endeavors.

"I've increased your abilities in deceit, cunning, trickery, and I've allowed you to become more resistant to the cold than your fellow Vikings. Since it hasn't been told to your mortal ears, you wouldn't know that I also have powers over fire, water, wind, and earth." Her look of shock confirmed it. "Now, mortals themselves cannot control such things, but there are two metals that exist that allow you to 'persuade' the elements to follow your wishes. One of those metals you've already come into contact with; you will need to forge it yourself to be used only by you.

"Should others attempt to use the weapon, the elements of said weapon will lash at them in an attempt to kill them. The elements will only bend to your will when you are in contact with the metal, otherwise they won't work. When the time comes, you will feel the pull for the other metal. Should you not follow it, horrible things will begin to happen around you." The God stands, his height looming over her elegantly. He gives her one last smile, full of oily warmth. "I hope that you live a long life, you've brought me a many laughs here in Asgard, (Name)."

He chuckled at the look upon her face as he faded away, the sound echoing. It grew louder, so loud that her head began to pound. She held the sides of her head, eyes shut tightly in an attempt to further ward off the throbs. Then, even though she knew not how it was done, she was lying upon the ground, orange light from torches filling her vision.