Greetings, dear readers. As offerings to the mighty Aesir, I give you my first attempt at a HTTYD fanfic. As a friendly warning, this contains MANY, MANY SPOILERS for HTTYD2, so if you haven't been fortunate enough to go see it yet a. don't read this and b. GO WATCH IT as it is awesome. Anyways, all characters (except for original creations) belong to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell, and not to me (very sad face). Enjoy! And pwease, pwease review. We have cookies! Well, virtual ones!

This is Berk. Its ten miles west of the end of civilisation and twelve degrees north of where no one in their right mind would live. The food consists of mutton, fish and any combination of the above. For nine months of the year it snows – for the other three, it rains. Endlessly. But it does have two features that make up for it. The first is that Astrid Hofferson, the love of my life, lives here, and the second are the pets.

Most people have terrapins or budgies, or even iguanas, but not us. We just had to take it to the next level. So, here in merry old Berk, we have a bunch of animals that we like to call dragons.

You see, we used to hate dragons with a vengeance. They would steal our sheep, burn down our buildings, and generally make life a living hell. Making life in Berk worse than it already was is almost an achievement in itself, it must be said. But, five years ago, I shot down a Night Fury called Toothless (don't ask). And when I later found him where he had crash-landed on Raven's Point, I decided to save him. Yep, the first Viking in three hundred years that wouldn't kill a dragon. Also almost an achievement in itself.

In return, he showed me that dragons weren't the monstrous beasts that we thought they were, and by learning about his likes and dislikes, and creating a prosthetic tail-fin that helped him to fly again (with my help), I eventually learned how to tame all dragons.

Of course, Vikings being Vikings, we suffer from chronic stubbornness, and in order to convince my fellow Vikings that we could tame the dragons instead of massacre them, I had to take down the largest dragon ever seen, the Red Death, and lose my foot in the process (although that was really poetic justice – I had shot off Toothless' tail, after all).

But, eventually, we learned to tame the dragons, and after a particularly violent encounter with a maniac named Drago Bludfist, I even found my long-lost mother, Valka, and the realisation that dragon riding actually ran in the family.

But not everything worked out. Drago's alpha dragon possessed Toothless, and forced him to kill me. He would have succeeded, had my dad, Stoick the Vast, not taken the shot for me. My best friend had been forced to murder my father. It was that day that I realised the true nature of evil, and that it wore the face of Drago Bludfist. When we eventually made it back to Berk, (Never, ever, ever attempt to ride a baby dragon. Trust me.) it took all of mine and Toothless' collective willpower to break him of the spell that the alpha had him under.

And then we discovered that alpha dragons aren't actually a species, when Toothless managed to beat down the alpha and free all our dragons from its control, and the control of Drago Bludfist (now that is an achievement).

Now, Toothless is the alpha of all of Berk's dragons, and I'm the somewhat reluctant chieftain of all of Berk's people. For once, everything seems to be absolutely wonderful, but in the back of my mind, I can't ignore the fact that Drago, the man who murdered my father, is still out there, and so is his alpha. Drago managed to raise a dragon army once, and I would be a fool if I didn't think that he would try to do so again. The world needs Drago gone, and the next time we cross paths, I won't be so merciful.

But for now, everything is wonderful. The sun is shining, Terrible Terrors are singing on the rooftops, and everyone has their dragons back. It would take an awful lot to improve on that. But, luckily for me, my beloved Astrid is making a magnificent effort to do just that – or would be if I wasn't the one making hot, sweet love to her right now, and probably annoying the neighbours with her howling to the moon.

Astrid writhed in ecstatic pleasure beneath the body of her boyfriend, Hiccup, his deft ministrations and his disproportionately large manhood doing their utmost to bring her to the very heights of sexual pleasure.

"Faster, Hiccup. Please!" She moaned, her eyes hooded and her bare chest rising and falling with her deep panting.

"As you wish, milady." Hiccup obliged, ever the gentleman, eliciting a scream from his beloved as she came for the third time, and not too soon either, for a moment later, Hiccup uttered an uncharacteristically manly growl as his own orgasm sent shivers up his spine. Utterly spent from an afternoon of worshipping each other, he collapsed next to his girlfriend, pulling her into a tight embrace, her body still shuddering from the treatment that his ministrations had put her through. She snuggled against his body, still riding out the last waves of her orgasm.

"Wow," she murmured. "Since when did you get so good between the sheets?"

"Let's just say," Hiccup placed his hands behind his head in a somewhat confident manner. "There was more than one reason my father was called Stoick the Vast."

Astrid laughed, an infectious giggle that soon had Hiccup joining in.

"Well, I would say I envied your mother, but then I have you to make up for that."

"Wow, Astrid." Hiccup smiled. "You might well be the first person to compare me and dad in a positive light, even if it is a little…"

"I wouldn't exactly call it little." She teased him in a sultry voice.

"Well, in that case, I'll quit while I'm ahead." They both laughed again, until Hiccup silenced them with a deep, sensual kiss that Astrid returned with equal vigour. They stayed that way for a minute or two, until they had to come up for air.

"Astrid?"

"Yes, Hiccup?" She smiled.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but promise me that you'll never let me stop doing it."

"I promise, my love." She kissed him again. "And, for the record, what you did, my darling, is be an utter coward."

"I –what?!"

"You were the first Viking in three hundred years who wouldn't kill a dragon. And because you are also the bravest man alive, you aren't the only one who wouldn't anymore." He couldn't help but smile at his beloved, before they shared in a heated kiss that led to another round of holding tight and making drowsy, as it were.

And as he did, a voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like his father said, Hiccup, marry her. Trust me, this one's the one.

Hiccup smiled internally. I know, dad. I know.

Meanwhile, Toothless was lazing in the sun in the centre of the village, completely oblivious (Well, maybe not completely) to his rider's, ahem, activities with his girlfriend. A small girl was happily sitting on his shoulders, scratching the sides of his neck, eliciting a gentle purr of happiness from the dragon.

Being the chief's dragon, Toothless became quite popular with the villagers, especially the younger children. His almost ridiculous combination of jet black alpha predator body and adorable wide-eyed expressions made him approachable to just about anyone. He never wanted for friendship, or at the very least companionship and attention, and there was always someone who would feed him a fish at some point.

And that was the very thing that was making Toothless rather depressed.

It had all started when Stormfly, his loyal cohort and best friend (well, except for Hiccup, obviously), hooked up with a particularly handsome purple Nadder named Typhoon. (A/N: Please don't ask me how Vikings are familiar with the concept of typhoons, they just are. This is a story with dragons, for crying out loud.) They started seeing each other, and in less than a week, Toothless had resorted to sleeping in Hiccup's house, because Hiccup and Astrid having sex was a damn sight quieter than Stormfly and Typhoon going at it like, well, dragons.

Toothless found himself becoming rather jealous of the couple. At first he assumed it was down to a few unconfessed, and previously unrealised, feelings of romantic affection for Stormfly, but he quickly dismissed that. They had been friends for years, especially since their riders were, intimate with each other, and had been since they were sixteen years old, and besides, he and Stormfly weren't even the same species.

And then it hit him. The reason for his enmity towards them was not that he was jealous of them personally – he was envious that they had a relationship that he could never have.

He had never met another Night Fury. According to some of the dragon elders, an old Zippleback had brought his egg to the nest some 20 years ago, and when he hatched, they had raised him to serve the Red Death. They had no idea where the Zippleback had brought him from – largely because the Red Death ate him before he had the chance to tell anyone. So, Toothless accepted that he was an orphan, even by dragon standards, and simply lived his life as well as he could. But now, what with Drago gone and everybody pairing off, he was feeling rather left out. Hence his depression.

Not even Valka knew if there were any others, and she had privately confessed to Hiccup once that she suspected he really was the last of his kind. Before Stoick had, passed, Hiccup had once suggested that they begin actively searching for other Night Furies, but now he was busy with his duties as chieftain (when he wasn't fucking Astrid's brains out) so any plans for a lengthy exploration tour had been put on hold.

And so, with such cheerful thoughts to occupy his time, Toothless simply relaxed and let the children play on him. After all, it's not like he would be having any children of his own any time soon to occupy his attention.

Gobber was down at the forge, making a few non-essential repairs to some non-essential things, whilst trying to figure out the composition of the metal that made up the armour that Drago's dragons had sported, when Snotlout ran into the forge.

"Why, hello there, Snotlout. Anything I can do fer yer - "

"Sound the alarm! Something's approaching the village, and none of us have any idea what it is! The dragons won't go near it, not even Hookfang!"

"A'right, a'right, don' panic. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation." Gobber hobbled outside, never having quite mastered the grace of walking with a prosthetic leg that Hiccup had, and stared into the sky.

"I don' quite see what yer scared o', Lout. Maybe it were just a funny shaped cloud, or - " Then he saw it. A strange, elongated structure, flying slowly towards Berk. It was then that he realised that he knew exactly what he was looking for – and where he had seen it before.

"SOUND THE ALARM! SOMEBODY GET HICCUP!" Gobber screamed, running for the Meade Hall. "GET THE PATROLS AIRBORNE!"

"What is it, Gobber?" Snotlout called.

"Hell, lad," he glanced fearfully at the thing, visibly paling as it descended towards Berk with a certain finality, as if the gods themselves had given it the authority to do so. "Hell on Earth."