Here Be Dragons, Chapter 6: A Night for a Fury

Did anyone see that?

No one, no one except for a Monstrous Nightmare. The fearsome creature could set its whole body on fire in the blink of an eye and was strong enough to have no trouble snapping him into kindling.

Hiccup fled, gasping in and out, yelling in terror, and cursing his bad luck. He, Hiccup, had just downed a Night Fury, and the only witness was a dragon that was about to kill him! Hiccup dashed into the plaza and dove behind a pillar. He put his hands in front of his face, feeling the hot flames curl around the wooden and metal pole. When they died, he slowly looked to his right, heart pounding in terror. Nothing. Which meant…

Just then he heard a meaty smack from the left and slumped against the pole, breath whooshing out of his lungs. He watched, mute and breathless, as his father drove off the Nightmare with an ease that Hiccup knew he himself would never be able to attain.

The man turned to Hiccup, and opened his mouth. But before he could stay anything, the smoldering pillar broke in two with a loud CRACK. Hiccup wished he could disappear.

"Sorry... Dad."

The boy cringed as he watched the top of the pillar roll away, freeing the captive dragons. Stoick sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead with one of his enormous hands.

"Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

Before Hiccup could object, Stoick grabbed him by the tunic, and began dragging Hiccup along behind him as he strode through the crowd.

"But... I-I hit a Night Fury!" It sounded stupid even in his head, but he doggedly continued. "I-It went down just off Raven's point. Let's get a search party out there and-"

"Stop! Just... stop." Stoick dropped Hiccup and swung around, looking so terrible that Hiccup fell silent. "Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems?

Hiccup's shoulders slumped; a bitter taste filled his mouth. It was true. No matter how hard he tried, there were times Hiccup felt he just couldn't do anything right.

He swallowed hard, and said softly, "I can't stop myself, Dad! I see a dragon, and I just have to… fight it, you know? It's who I am." I just want you to be proud of me. I just want... to do something right, for once.

Stoick groaned. "Oh, Hiccup. You are many things. But a dragon killer is not one of them. Just... get back the house." Stoick turned to Gobber. "Make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up." His tone stung Hiccup, and the boy bit his lip, hard. Behind him, the teens snickered quietly, only adding to his cup of bitterness.

When they arrived at the house, Hiccup finally broke the silence, quietly groaning, "I really did hit it."

"Sure you did," Gobber sighed, and Hiccup could tell that the blacksmith didn't believe him.

"He never listens."

"It runs in the family," Gobber replied steadily.

"And when he does, it's always with this... disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich. 'Excuse me barmaid, ' " Hiccup growled, imitating Stoick, " 'I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone!' " Hiccup snapped, borrowing Snotlout's new nickname for him.

"Look, Hiccup, just... stop trying so hard to be something yer not," Gobber told him gently.

Hiccup's shoulders dropped. "I just want to be one of you guys," he muttered, then pushed open the door and disappeared inside. He paused for a moment, then slowly clenched his fist. No one had saw him bring down that Night Fury, so he hardly expected them to believe him. He was going to need proof. Since, obviously, no one would join in the search, he would just have to find it on his own.

As dawn's warm rays crested the horizon, a dark shadow hurried away from the smoldering town of Berk. The darkened figure paused for a second-enough time for a grim smile. There was no way Stoick's scrawny son could have outrun or outwitted a Nightmare. How could they have guessed things would turn out to be so easy? The figure redoubled its speed, black cloak flapping behind it.

Their work here was done.

Everything was silent. Peaceful. Still. The air was free from the sounds of roaring flames, the clangs of metal against scales. The Night Fury opened his nostrils to inhale the scent of pines. Then he shifted slightly. Ropes bit cruelly into his scales, and in that instant, he remembered what had happened.

Oh no.

The dragon struggled but the ropes only grow tighter, and he stopped. He was going to die. There was nothing he could do to change that, nothing. No doubt some Viking would come striding along, lift his weapon and... the last of the Night Furies would be gone.

A slight breeze stirred the grass as he slightly lifted his head to look around. The sky was clotted with grey clouds, the ground slightly misty. Would this be the last time he ever gazed at the sky? With a low moan, he dropped his head back down and closed his eyes.

It was not too much longer that he heard a voice. The dragon's muscles tensed, he wanted to run, to shoot fire, to do something! but he didn't move, nor did he open his eyes.

"Oh wow... I did it. I actually did it! This- this fixes everything!" The dragon felt a foot pressing down on his side. "I have brought down this mighty beast-ahhh!" The Night Fury growled, and heard the human stumbling back. He would have snorted in amusement at its cowardice, if the situation hadn't been so serious.

The dragon slowly opened his eyes to gaze upon the Viking. It was a small boy, the smallest Viking the dragon had ever seen. It carried only a small dagger, but there was determination in the its eyes, a recklessness. It had pressed itself up against a rock, but began to slowly advance forward. Slowly, but surely, step by step.

Please. The dragon silently begged. Please, no! I... don't want to die.

The young Viking faltered, and its hand shook slightly as it held forth the dagger. "I'm going to kill you, dragon," it snarled. "I'm- I'm gunna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I am a Viking. I am a Viking!"

Please... don't.

The Night Fury let out a low moan then squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the deadly blow that would pierce through his heart and kill him. He had seen it done to others many times before, now it was his turn. One moment, then two, then many passed, and still the blow had not come to pass.

Instead, he heard the small thud as the blade hit the soggy ground.

"I can't kill you."

The footsteps retreated, as the dragon let out another soft moan. He was alive for now, but still as good as dead. Within a week he would starve to death. And although this human wouldn't kill him, others would do so without a moment's hesitation.

The dragon's eyes flew open as the sawing sound of knife against rope split the air. He could barely believe his ears. As soon as the ropes slackened, the dragon leaped up, pinning the boy against a nearby rock. The Night Fury felt him squirm like a captured fish, but he didn't let go, just stared into the young Viking's eyes.

You realize I could kill you right now. But I won't. You gave me mercy, and I will do the same to you. A life for a life.

He released his hold, letting forth an ear-splitting roar. Then he turned and swept into the air, but without his tail working properly, he only crashed down the side of a cliff, but managed to open his wings and splash into a pond. When he swam out, the dragon turned and looked back where he came from, his eyes wide and questioning.

Why didn't he kill me?