Author's note: My first HTTYD fan fiction! Alright, this is solely featuring my new OC who I just explained in my last origin story, Lessa. There isn't really much to say here, so anyways, enjoy!

By the way, this is right after the movie, so the Green (Or Red) Death is already dead.

Lessa wasn't really one for crying. After all, she lived in a dragon colony, where strength was everything. Even though as the queen's rider she tended to have nothing to worry about, she still deemed weakness unacceptable. And sobbing like a little girl was definitely weakness.

But Citysmasher, her dragon, her partner for three years now, her only best friend, was dead.

Dead.

Because of a stupid boy viking and his night fury.

Her last memory had been of pain. Fire. Then a violent movement, and she was sent flying, plunging into the ocean. With one last violent buck, Citysmasher had thrown her rider from her back, and saved Lessa's life.

Still in pain, and soaking wet, Lessa had crawled from the water, hiding off to the side. She had seen the downed night fury, and dared to hope. Hope that it and its rider would be dead. Dead like her dragon. Dead like she should have been.

But no. The dragon had lived.

What was worse was the fact that it had saved the boy, its rider, as well.

Lessa wanted to scream when she saw that they had both survived. Both of them. But not Citysmasher. The only companion she had for the past three years. Her dragon.

Dead.

Because of those two.

They had killed her. Killed her without a second thought, without mercy.

She would avenge her dragon's death.

Lessa had stayed in her hiding place, shaking from the cold, until the vikings- all of them, and the night fury as well- had left. Then she jumped up and ran to the place where Citysmasher lay.

It was too late. The fire had taken her dragon's life. Lessa knew. Citysmasher's heartbeat had always been there, like a drum, steady and constant, reminding the dark skinned girl that her dragon was forever. She would always be there for her.

But now the beat was gone, and Citysmasher was still.

Lessa dropped beside the dead dragon, her legs no longer able to hold her. She let her dark black hair fall around her face as she began to cry. Tears streamed from her dark green eyes, and she squeezed them shut in a vain attempt to stop them. But there was no preventing them. She leaned her head against Citysmasher's head. The dragon's massive eyes were closed, so at least Lessa could imagine that her dragon was in peace now.

The tears came harder and faster. Citysmasher had been her only family, after her original family had been killed in a dragon raid on her town. Now that even her dragon was gone, Lessa was alone.

Fingers shaking, Lessa reached into a concealed sheath in her boot, pulling out a dagger. First, she cut away one of the dragon's large scales, fondly tucking it away into her jacked. Secondly, she stabbed into the already made wound, and it bled. Then, with the knife still stained, Lessa drew the dagger across her own palm, barely feeling any pain. She closed her eyes, and whispered an oath softly.

"I swear, by all the gods that there are, this same dagger that drew your blood and mine will draw blood from that boy and his night fury," she swore. Gently, she put a hand on Citysmasher's giant side. The blood had already stopped flowing.

"For you," she said quietly. "For you, for my family that's gone. I can't avenge my family, the dragons that took them are long gone. But I can avenge you. And I will. I promise."

She looked up, with a sigh. She was trapped on this island, for now. But not for long. There were plenty of materials, and broken boats. She would fix one, and go find that boy.

Berk.

That must be where he had come from.

It had to be.

She would go there.

Then she would avenge her dragon.

She had sworn it in blood already. Her blood, and her dragon's blood. She would do it.

"For you, Citysmasher," she whispered.

But no amount of self control could keep her voice from breaking as she said it.

Gone.

Her dragon was gone.

Lessa forced her sadness away. Forced the anguish inside of her, changed it into anger. Hatred. For the boy and his night fury.

When she had gotten herself under control, she stood, sliding the knife back into her boot.

She had work to do.