How To Train Your Dragon - The Book of Oneshots

Darkest Night

This is actually the prologue to another fic I'm writing. It's based on the Race To The Edge episode 'Darkest Night', where they showed what would happen if Hiccup hadn't shot down Toothless. The scenario was rushed and left out key plot points (understandable, because it was told from Astrid's perspective and you can only fit so much into a 23 minute episode) so I wanted to write it out and fully flesh out the scenario. This is only the prologue, after all, so it will only show the opening scene. I hope you enjoy it!!

-Ami

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"C'mon, gimme somethin' to shoot at, gimme somethin' to shoot at...."

My hands are trembling upon the handle. Whether it's from the cold of the early Nordic morning or from the fear of being eaten alive, I don't bother to figure it out. All my focus is upon this first kill. This first strand of hope to finally, finally be a Viking. To turn disapproving, judgemental eyes into ones of pride and acceptance.

The entirety of my fate, is within this bola launcher, within this first kill, and I only have a single shot at it. I have to make it count.

I hear the unmistakable shriek of the Night Fury echoing in the dark sky. I prepare myself, all my senses alert and my hands placed firmly on the trigger. I  can see an outline in the sky where the stars don't take form. It begins to come closer, and I ready the launcher. The dragon begins to charge up its blast, ready to destroy the watchtower. I have full concentration.

When I hear the Night Fury's signature roar, I begin to take aim. I hear an explosion and the watchtower before me is reduced to splinters. It's difficult to see, and I almost miss the figure emerging from the flames. This is my chance. I pull the trigger on the launcher, sending the bolas into the sky. I hear a echoing clang, and for a split second I wonder if I've done it. But I take a look above me, and the dragon swoops above me, remaining unharmed. I can feel my heart shattering. "No..." I say dejectedly. "No!"

I let out a cry of frustration, my eyes welling up. I violently shove the launcher to the side, making it clatter noisily. In my angry fit, I don't notice a large, angrier form beginning to clamber towards me. It's pupils are only mere slits, and if it weren't for its angry snarling alerting me it was there, I would be reduced to ashes within a second. "Uh..." I stammer, as the Monstrous Nightmare lights it's scales and sprints after me as I run, wailing down the hillside.

I don't let my legs rest for a single second, barely dodging each furious blast as I bolt through the village. I take refuge for a moment behind a tower, cowering as the dragon unleashes it's fire behind me. When the flames lessen, I dare to peak around the remains of the pole. I think I've lost the beast when suddenly a huge fist collides with a scaled head that was about to eat me alive. The Nightmare prepares a blast, but only a few drops of molten rock shoot out of its throat. It seems to realise it's disadvantage and it yelps. "You're all out," a gruff voice says, as the Viking's fist comes in contact once again with the dragon's face. I watch, terrified, yet amazed at the pure strength and bravery within the man. He wrestles with it for another couple moments before the beast spreads its wings and flees.

Suddenly, I remember my situation and quietly try to slip away, when the massive tower splits and tumbles down the hillside, it's fire-lit torch tumbling with it. All I can do is wince at the destruction caused. I slowly turn my head towards the burly Viking who saved my life, bracing myself for his reaction. "S-sorry, Dad..." I say, meekly. He only groans in frustration, as he pulls me towards the house. "I-I was really close though! Really! I just need to fix a couple of things to better my aim, maybe make some calibration adjustments and I should be..."

"Enough!"

I flinch at my father's booming voice echoing through the village.

"Just... enough. Every time you step outside, disaster follows! Can't you see I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!" He rants loudly, frustration evident in his words. I try to lighten the mood, or rather, shield my embarrassment by making one of my snarky comments. However, it only heightens the tension. Finally, he sighs in resignation. "Hiccup... you are many things... but a dragon killer is not one of them. Get back to the house."

A while later, after an onslaught of mocking and a scolding from my blacksmith mentor, I climb the stairs to my room and roughly flop myself into my chair. I lay my head on my desk, an array of diagrams and drawings scattered on it. I close my head and sigh.

"Typical."

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