The Protector

The Night He Failed

The night sky was dark, an inky black that was only broken by the glimmering light of dozens of stars scattered like the tiny flames of a thousand candles. The night air was chilling, smelling of the ocean below; a mix of fresh air, salt, and the hint of fish. Flying was natural, flying was joy, flying was power.

And among his kind, he was the best; the fastest flyer, the best fire-breather, the most intelligent of his kind. He was the best, so he became the protector.

He knew what Queen wanted, but he resisted. He didn't wish to get trapped in her call, the one that drove the rest of his brethren to risk life and limb to satisfy her. But, unlike the rest of his family, he could not abandon them. The queen had taken over so long ago that none remembered times before her, none but he who flew in the night, he who protected. So he stayed and watched and waited. One day they would be able to stop her. For she had ruined the peaceful lives they'd lived before her greediness over took her sense.

He stayed far away from their island; he stayed in the wilderness, far away from her lure as much as he could. He spent the days doing as he wished, and the nights protecting his kind. The risks they took were many, and so, many had already died. Not only at the hands of the Queen, no, but also at the hands of the Wing-less two-leggers. They where a strange lot those Wing-less creatures, and not just in looks, but in their actions as well. Their appearance was without doubt odd, though he'd seen them often enough to come to understand them in a sense.

They were not from here, they had moved many seasons before appearing riding their odd hollow trees, and started chopping trees and then rearranging them, raising them up again, but different, these where their dens, their caves and nests. They raised their young their hatchlings there, and went there for shelter, and no matter how many times his people destroyed them, they simply raised them up again.

They also kept easy food creatures near them, protecting them as best they could. And that was the problem. His kind needed the easy four legged food. It satisfied the Queen better than the swimmers ever had, though he himself didn't particularly like the taste, he much preferred swimmers. So his brethren took what they could from the Wing-less two-leggers. That was never easy. The Wing-less were powerful, not as powerful as him, but they had rock things they could swing at you, and long vines that dragged you from the sky. That was the first rule of survival against the Wing-less, if you were unable to fly you were vulnerable. They were interesting creatures, the Wing-less, but they had taken too many of his own kind.

Too many had died at the hand of the Wing-less, his brother, among them. He was now the last of his family here; the rest had gone away, far from the Queen, leaving the rest of their brethren here to risk their lives to satisfy the Queen.

So he protected them. He distracted the Wing-less, destroyed their great arms that threw rocks. He heard what they called him, though none had ever seen him. Turning in the air he let out a great breath as he looked upon the scene before him. Another raid, the Queen was never satisfied it seemed. Flipping in the air, he spotted one of the arms and aimed for it.

"Night Fury!!!" he heard the cry, they knew he was there, but they never saw him. He was a creature of the night, the most powerful of his brethren. No Wing-less two-legger had ever gotten him and none would, not ever. Quickly, he looked around and found another of the great wooden arms and took it out.

Night Fury, they called him, and he felt it was appropriate. He was of the night, in the night, none could find him. In the night he was the most powerful, in the night he was inv-

A cry was ripped from his throat as he felt something slam into him, wrapping him tightly, and forcing his wings to bend. He had been taken by one of those long vines he realized. Another cry, this one of anger, how dare they! He could not be taken down, he was the protector. His brethren suffered enough without this additional strike. He was the only one who could effectively distract the Wing-less two-leggers, if they took him down then his brethren would die, all of them. Little by little, there would be none of his brethren left!

The air whistled by as he fell, he struggled, trying to get away, to open his wings and stop his fall. But it was useless, there was no way, and soon he started crashing. The trees slowed his fall, but they also hurt him. Sharp pain racked him, slicing through him, his tail started throbbing. Everything hurt. Then he saw the ground coming at him. The trees had not been enough. His heart beat, his bones cried out, his muscles screamed from the effort, his skin wept from the pain. He closed his eyes as the ground came. His last thought before the blackness took him was that he had failed and would never again be able to protect.

A/N: Saw the movie, LOVED it. Specially Toothless (who I swear is just like my friends cat) and started thinking, what his take on all of this is. I've never read the books, though I might at some point, so I'm just going on what I saw and remember from the movie. There's a few other scenes I know I want to write so this won't be the only one, but I don't know when I'll get around to it. In the meantime, leave me a review and tell me what you think please!