This is War

'A How To Train Your Dragon Fanfiction'

Rated: T- Contains: Strong Violence, War Themes, Blood and Gore, Mild Language, Minor/Mild Adult Themes.

Genre: Fantasy / Adventure [Action]

DISCLAIMER: I do not own HttyD. Rights go to Respective Owners.

Note: For avoiding confusion, please read the Author's Note down below. For a guide of speaking types within this story, see below.

"This is human text."

'This is Dragonese- dragon text.'

'This is when an Alpha dragon speaks in Dragonese.' - "This is when an Alpha/dragon speaks in human tongue."

This stands for thoughts, or telepathic communication.

'-This is when an animal/mythical creature/other human speaks in what the perspective can translate. Otherwise, a translated language. Dragonese (the language of dragons) avoids this rule for its wide use throughout the story.-'

Now, with that confusing stuff out the way, let the war commence!

Part One: The Night Fury and his Rider

X-x-X

Prologue: An Occupational Hazard

Oo-oO-oOo-Oo-Oo

Sometime around the arrival of the Viking settlers of Berk-

[Approximately: 2150_D (human/normal years) ]

'Of course not,' She muttered, sighing. 'I was just proving a point, Elder, and indeed, you must agree that these two-legged mortals could be dangerous beasts.'

There was a troubled sigh. 'Indeed, my Queen… But I believe that we should not ignore them.'

The greyed creature, one of the eight Elders of the next, shakily lifted its head as she nodded. Small, flaky scales under his pale green eyes gave an old and wrinkled appearance. Covered in scales of a faded tint, once vibrant turquoise and green, the beast, a dragon, reached a stubbed, brown claw to scratch behind a crumbled horn. The warm, crimson gas that resided within the nest reflected on its body, battered by the destruction of forgotten glories and battles. Ripped and dry, like sandpaper to the touch, the creature's wings tucked close to his thin sides.

Known to many as a Monstrous Nightmare, the elderly beast was probably something to behold, back in his prime. He turned his droopy head, held up by a sagging, long neck that dipped in the middle, and directed his keen attention so it settled on their Queen.

There she sat, proudly surrounded by her fellow dragon-kind. To her, especially by magnitude, they were small and minor, but she treated them no lower than she would another of her species.

Thick stalagmites, that were only spines down her neck, back and tail, were a deep blue. Down her broad shoulders, sides, and legs, it slimmed to a lighter shade that blended into a greyish tone, and her specific breed was given their name, as 'Red' Deaths, due to the menacing, sharp red spikes that adorned their thick hide. In contrast, her armoured underbelly stood a faded, seething orange-red not unlike the mist in the cavern. Four muscular legs with clawed paws were guaranteed a lethal swipe, and her jaws held dozens of serrated teeth to chew and shred. Six bright blue eyes radiated intricate vision, but, they were kind as they swept over the dragons of her mighty, cosy nest. Her two wide nostrils flared, taking in another drift of wind, heavy with the presence of the nearby inhabitants of wooden vessels on the vast sea.

The Red Death turned to her subjects, projecting her booming voice out to cavern's depths. 'Then, indeed, we shall look further into these new creatures' motives. If they are a sentient and friendly race, then let our kinds bond in friendship and unity.' She paused, letting the dragons murmur their consent. However, her next, more savage words brought a wave of growls and almost excited snarls, affirmative bellows that sounded for miles outside the nest.

'And if not, we shall descend upon them with fangs, claws and fire before they can amass in numbers, and fill the skies with the blood of our enemies, and the clouds we shall make from smoke!'

Oo-oO-oOo-Oo-oO

A dark night,

One sure to have wrought only failure and pain.

But instead a harmony born

Between man and dragon.

For one Night settled his Fury to trust their beloved Chief

The first of his name, the first of the Haddocks.

Together,

They brought a short but true prosperity

One that would not yet again emerge for o'er three centuries.

For within her nest,

A forbidden love would spark

Catching alight under the talons of a Red Death and a lone Skulblaka

And one scarlet egg would be laid.

All seemed right, the darkness concealed

Never to be known.

Until strife broke out, between Shur'tugal and Skulblaka;

Savage soul emerging,

The man did take the Chief's wife, unaware of his crime.

And only heartache tore out.

Draconians enraged,

Vikings betrayed,

Dragons seeking vengeance.

And thus, the Skulblaka and his Shur'tugal did be slaughtered,

And the Night Fury and her Chief attempted to slay the now furious Red Queen.

No light broke through

The Fury descending on the man by Red hatred,

Slaying the one the Night swore to love,

And a long-to-be war came down on both Descendants and Vikings.

Rider and Chieftess' bastard bonding to forbidden Skulblaka,

Upon which the Red Queen did deny.

She descended with fire and fury, and the bastard was no more.

And yet, mother's backstabbing kindness branded on the betrayed Dragoness,

So, the daughter proceeded to enslave the Red Death.

Bent under will and control,

Only one of the Furious could she hide,

In the glimmer of hope he would find his boy in the years to come.

For great pain and tragedy would soon be set to strike,

And man, and dragon, doomed to tilt their heads to the crimson skies,

And cry out;

'Oh, who remains to save us?"

For in three hundred years,

On the darkest night, the stars, may they align to their will.

It is to be that after the bloodiest battle,

The Fury of the Night would once again bond to a runt

Of who would become Midgard's saviour.

Of great feats,

Should they achieve?

Dragon and Man alike shall pray,

Upon that they will free them from the Scarlet Queen…

Oo-oO-oOo-Oo-Oo

[Approximately 2457_D.]

The man snorted, and rigid with irritation, pushed aside a branch in his path. "I told you, Valka, this is pointless. It'll probably never hatch!"

The auburn-haired woman at the front of the group merely drew out a long, deep sigh.

"That's the sixth time you've said that today, Dennis. Give it up."

Dennis glared, and his hands on his dragon's saddle tightened. Below him, the lean, red-brown Desert Nightmare, Scorchflicker, gave a soft, warm huff that contrasted to the chilly air that made up the forest fog.

To their left, walked a long, rainbow serpent, bands of colour shining in the moonlight's rays, a woman perched on its neck, peering through the thick mist. At the lead was Valka, riding upon her ever faithful and majestic Stormcutter, a magnificent creature of brown-red, and streaks of youthful blue, Cloudjumper. Another followed shortly in the rear, a muscular and drearily painted Snafflefang, and despite having a similar colour pallet, the dragon wore the look like Cloudjumper's far from brilliantly, instead having an overall unappealing blend of greys, browns, and faded blues. Its piercing green eyes, however, watched their surroundings far more accurately than even a hawk's gaze.

The woman, riding the long serpent, the Breathquencher, sighed, impatient. Her feet tapped the scales of the dragon quietly. "How long until we can stop and rest?" She glanced at the serpent-like creature. "Em… Prism's getting tired…"

"Yeah right," Dennis mused, blowing a strand of his dark russet hair away, "Anyone can see through your lies, Lily. Give it up."

'Oh dear,' Muttered Cloudjumper to his fellow fire-breathers, despite their carried mounts unable to hear them. 'It seems like ol' Den is learning from my partner-of-heart-and-soul. He's even using her signature quotes!' The Stormcutter rumbled a form of laughter chorused by the other dragons. They listened attentively as the humans bickered among themselves, Valka just watching with a small, fond smile. Ah, yes, she had always been quiet, Cloudjumper would tell them.

The dragons and riders only stopped for refreshing themselves, resting and to check their position.

They walked more than they did fly, for the winds were harsh and unforgiving, the skies treacherous and hostile, as if mother nature herself wished for their failure. Snow and storms seemed to wreak havoc constantly, all over the Nordic Archipelagos.

It was like this would they continue, in Valka's lap a golden chest, wrapped in protective black fabric.

Within it held such precious cargo; a smooth, shiny, single dragon egg as black as night.

Oo-oO-oOo-Oo-Oo

[Approximately 2462_D (Hiccup is approx.4yrs old) ]

Thunder clapped in the distance, rattling his mind to the very core. Shivers ran down his spine, for both fear that had crept within him, and the coldness of winter that clawed at him from the outside.

Hiccup, small and frail in the harsh wilderness, alone in the dead of night, whimpered.

The small child shrank, cowered within the nook of a cave he had crawled in, watching with wide eyes as thunder rolled and rain poured. Awful, simply terrible streaks of blue lightning occasionally struck, and one or two even hit nearby, creating an upheaval of terrifying sparks and embers, leaving charred patches in its absence.

"D…Daddy…" He whimpered, big, fat tears glazing his vision, rolling down his cheeks. He sniffled, for the first time noticing how salty tears tasted, which made him pause, before sobs broke out again.

"DADDY!"

And a flash of lightning struck, also illuminating the huge, looming figure of a dragon, perched on a rock outcropping that overlooked the forest from a higher point. With narrow slits, its blood red gaze swept over the trees, large nostrils that were each the size of Hiccup's little fist alone, twitching. It was indeed a cold night, but what came out its teeth when it took a deep exhale was not vapour, but green smoke that ignored the falling rain, lit up in the darkness as it curled past his black scales, shying away from the ivory horn on his nose.

It then gave a deep growl, sighting something in the smallest hiding spot of a cave… Small… Petrified… Alive…

Without needing to turn his head or eyes, the dragon tapped the mind of its companion a dark, bulky, and armoured man nestled between the beast's neck and shoulders, sat in a saddle- and hissed, menacingly, lowly. That runt shouldn't be alive. Why?

The man grumbled. Don't ask me. Ask the Red Death. She's supposed to keep them all dead.

Well, this one apparently ISN'T. And surely, we can't just let it live.

There was a pregnant pause, a silence that reeked with the essence of uncertainty. Should they, though? Could they?

Snorting, the ebony creature grunted and set his mind straight. Come ON, you featherbrained chicken, The dragon snarled, slapping its long, wet tail on the stone. Let's just kill it and be done with it! See? Simple, easy, and no complications required. It bent its gnarled knees, spreading wings that were each almost as long as his whole body. The sharp tips, blood red from underneath, brushed past trees and sharp branches, offering what earth it overshadowed a very brief moment of dryness.

The enormous dragon sprang into the stormy skies, pushing the air underneath its wings down into the ground and vegetation.

It circled around, opening its jaws to shriek, preparing to thrust its talons open and dive down to snatch the small, hidden child- when suddenly, a loud, echoing dragon roar took control of the sounds in the sky, a cry so haunting and eerie even he, Deathstar, took a moment to shudder.

Was that a Night Fury? Drago asked gruffly, following his partner's gaze to where the sound had come from.

Must have been… Deathstar rumbled.

And I bet it had to have been a big one, too. Big Night Fury means lots of Furies.

Giving a deep, rumbling grunt, the huge Skulblaka took a sharp turn. Then, He growled, They can eat that pathetic wimp alive, won't they?

You're just saying that so we don't have to explain to Scarlet why he's alive.

He snorted. Maybe…

Oo-oO-oOo-Oo-Oo

[Approx. 2500_D: Flashback]

"Oh, the gods hate me. Some people might lose their knife, or their mug, but no, not me, I manage to lose an entire DRAGON?!"

You say, they hate you.

Hiccup smacked a branch out the way, only for it to strike back like a boomerang. He saw the trench left in the wake of what he presumed was something big, the tree bent in an odd angle and splintered, shattered.

They only ever try to take you down;

Green eyes met green, one of a narrow pupil and another of a frightened desire. For recognition, for change.

They only ever think of themselves, and what they see as the good.

The dragon could beg, he could try, and pray, and plead. This was his doom and his fate. A fallen dragon, a dead dragon- where was the difference?

And never could it change, it seemed.

The Night Fury let his head fall, heart slow. His fate befalling upon him like the ending of the last Alpha of his species, over two thousand and a half years ago, he was a victim of misunderstanding and foolish dreams.

So, what do you do when they lower their sword?

Hiccup let the knife fall on his own head, dragging it down as he glanced at it, feeling nothing but drained. He eyed the fallen beast before him, the one who he should have killed. He didn't have a valid excuse. Why didn't he kill the dreaded Night Fury? The renowned 'unholy offspring of lightning and death itself'? Piles upon mounds of praise he could receive from a single dragon's heart, more fame, than even his father?

And if they dare to defy the expectations,

His dagger sawed through the ropes, one by one, each snap causing a pound of his terrified heart.

If sweet revenge opens its wings,

The Night Fury shrieked, and pounced, claws pinning the skinny two-leg hatchling to the rock. His eyes bore into the not-so-much Viking's soul, a rush of vigorous adrenaline and hate searing in his veins.

And like a gentle breeze it could be ridden without effort,

Did he want to kill the one, the only one, to spare him mercy? Was this how he should repay him?

Should it be taken?

No.

There's no turning back, no denying, you've found something worth saving.

With a roar and a single pang in his heart, the lithe dragon leaped away, furiously trying to fly, to gain altitude in the sky. He crashed into both tree and stone, his mind spinning into both madness and grief. He came down with a heavy splash into the lake below, the water roaring in his ears, stinging his eyes, but in turn, it also washed his dusty scales and cleared them of filth and grime. His tail burned with a million fires, agony a constant, pounding presence.

So don't forget it.

The boy threw in a slimy, silver fish, ducked behind the shield he had brought. When it did not budge to join him on his quest, he sighed, gave it one last feeble tug, and picked up the fish once more, slowly, carefully, advancing.

Let it become a memory so vivid, until it lays right before your eyes.

Boy watched dragon, as the creature slinked down to inspect him.

Watch for the signs of the different, of change, no matter what they may be.

Before long, his attention landed on the fish, and he sniffed hungrily, longing for something to fuel the fire in his belly.

Take them-

"Toothless? Huh… Could have sworn you had-" Suddenly, the dragon's head snaked forward, teeth emerging with a defining shink, and the fish soon slid down his throat.

-But not without thought.

Licking his jaws, he rumbled, and saw once more the boy, but only now saw his small frame, and most importantly, the kindness and the gift that had been offered.

And be sure to share, to show it is not a one-sided deceit.

Hiccup observed, disgusted, as the dragon regurgitated something rather revolting- the head of the previously eaten fish. And the dragon wanted him to eat it. He only did so reluctantly, but, in the wake of disgust and new-found nausea, he cracked out an awkward smile.

See how light shines in all.

And it was then that the dragon saw a true heart within a human, for the very first time. He sheathed his teeth, lifted his pink gums, curving the ends of his mouth upwards.

The Viking's face contorted in sheer wonder, interested, perhaps confused. He reached up a hand cautiously…

Be warned of those who rush,

No! Not yet. The dragon- now named Toothless- scurried away with a snarl.

But give them another chance.

Boy and dragon spent the evening together, and as they watched each other, silently learned that everything they knew, was wrong.

And perhaps, something can be found.

Silent, drawing in a shaken, trembling breath, Hiccup extended his open hand.

Perhaps, a forbidden friendship.

And in that magical moment, as he closed his eyes and pressed his snout into the small Viking's palm, Toothless suddenly knew- he knew who this boy was, who he was to him, just what he was.

Who he was.

Find what is wrong, behold what is right-

And choose what is your path.

Mend the broken and heal the wounds,

And fight like there's no tomorrow;

For every unassuming breath, could be your last.

"Okay, Bud, time to disappear!"

Toothless gave a shake and a snort, and angled his wings upwards, swooping up high with the cold clouds sweeping over his scales. The Red Death flew not far behind, chomping her gargantuan jaws, roaring, as she spewed flames, formed from wrath.

But maybe you never realised,

Just what was wrong.

Don't let the strongest memories fade,

For you never know

When they might come right back-

The two dragons let out simultaneous shrieks, the much smaller Night Fury streaking past the beast's snout, taunting it as he descended into a steep, one-way dive.

-And only from the slightest difference, or a single word,

Everything can change,

For change, is a friend and a foe.

"Turns out, all we needed was a little more of… This." The Chief beamed as Hiccup smiled, and watched fondly as the Blacksmith, Gobber, handed his apprentice the saddle and red-and-white-skull prosthetic of the now revered Night Fury, a beast no longer feared. One shouted a cry, a joke, which was once one of fear, as the dragon, Toothless, hurtled out the house, jumping on two unfortunate Vikings as he gave a happy warble, eyeing his beloved partner.

And from the ashes of what was forgotten, let a new age be born;

Wings of dragons that covered the earth spread, the sound of harmony thick in the air. Peace found in the darkest corners of war, the unlikely now heroes.

It would be known for all of time that this would be the turning point for all of Midgard, where man and dragon co-existed together, that Dragon Riders weren't going to hide any longer.

For training a dragon, was never a feat to be ignored.

[Years later, the 'Present']

"Hmm…" The man paused, his ebony wings fluttering. He glanced back behind him, wind hitting the side of his head and right wing. Spotting the huge, glittering dragon, with hard scales like black jewels, and piercing green eyes as bright and sparkly as emeralds, that had swooped in with a defining thud, his talons clicking on the white stone of the balcony, he smiled, and then gestured to his latest creation.

The Skulblaka gave a rumbling chortle, quickly hearing what he had written from his companion's thoughts.

Amused, the man sighed, but grinned.

Hiccup quickly switched to a telepathic link, leaning back in his chair. Too dramatic?

Maybe a little… Toothless padded over, and as his rider held up the parchment, he sniffed the fresh, glittering, shimmery black ink. But it sure does make me sound like a very smart dragon with a wonderful sense of taste, no?

Oh, shush, Mr. Ego. We get enough of that crap from Snotlout and Hookfang.

The dragon gave a short bark of amusement, and with the tip of a giant wing, slipped it under the belly strap of his saddle, pulling it off the hook. Well, the Night Fury rumbled, scratching behind a scaly ear plate with an ivory talon, that had to at least be a foot in length. Speaking of those two featherbrained fools, I hope you're hungry. Just passed by Alumus, apparently, there's another banquet tonight. And if I'm correct, that means bacon. I like bacon…

Hiccup, Captain, Dragon Rider and Shur'tugal of the Draconians, chuckled, and stood, moving to get dressed for the evening.

Toothless watched, rambling on about all types of meat and mead, while Hiccup donned a dark blue shirt and black pants, before throwing on a black cloak, lined with elegant patterns of gold and silver, straightening the emerald-studded collar before strapping on his dragon's sleek black and gold saddle. As he jumped from the dragon's ankle to elbow to finally reach the high placed saddle- Toothless had to be at least thirty feet tall now to the head, and twenty to the shoulder- the man grabbed his boots to put on while they rode. As a final addition, he flourished his dragon with two plain gold bands around his neck, one around his left horn, and with a snort of amusement, he slipped on the gold armlet, centred with a round sphere of Midnight Emerald, that Loki had left with him so many years ago.

And with a ferocious, echoing roar that shook the air, and a leap of power that made the earth tremble, Toothless took flight, leaving in he and his bonded rider's wake, the glory of a Viking and his Night Fury, and, resting alone and seemingly innocently, written on a single piece of paper, just how to train your dragon…

Oo-oO-oOo-Oo-Oo

Author's Note/AN:

First things first- A very lovely shoutout to the amazing NatBlake, who's been a simply AWESOME help to this story. He's amazing. Thank you NatBlake! :D

Okeydokey, I'll try and make this quick. Also, it'll be one of the (hopefully) few AN's you'll see in this REWRITE of 'This Is War'.

…Yup. That's basically the only way- oh, wait, nope.

(Literal, like, it's from a dictionary)

Definition: An instance of writing something again so as to alter or improve it.

Okay. I really, really don't know how else I can explain it. It's a re-write.

A few things to say-

-Here's what'll happen with the original story. It'll stay up, labelled as This Is War (Old/First Edition, Discontinued) and anyone can read it.

-Expect a hopefully better TIW in this, where my grammar isn't dragonsh- dragoncrap (what? This chappy isn't supposed to have any swear words!) and the plot is slightly faster and twisty… Indeed. There shall be a massacre of twists. *evil smile*

Well, thank you for reading, if you're there. It means a lot, honestly. I know that I probably won't even get half of my original followers here, but hey, one is better than none. ;)

DRAGONITES UNITE!

-Crystallion12