Berk's Forumvine

SYNOPSIS

 

A dead Viking...a mysterious man...a kidnapping...a transformation...and a battle brewing underneath the surface, ready to emerge out of the shadows...

Hiccup discovers that he has been chosen as a sylverra prekaa, or forest guardian, a group of dragons and Vikings who protected lifeforms from danger. However, as Hiccup delves into the mysteries of Berk and of his capturer, he is thrown into a conspiracy that aged long before his time...and one that will change the fates of everyone in Berk forever.

DISCLAIMER: How to Train Your Dragon 1&2 (c) Dreamworks Animation. I do not own the plot or any of the characters.

[WARNINGS: (amendable) character death, ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK ]

CATALOGUE

Flight Procedures (edited first round)

 

1

To Be a Leader (unedited)

 

2

Where's Astrid? (unedited)

 

3

What's the Commotion? (unedited title to change)

 

4

In Preparation (unedited title to change)

 

5

Examination (unedited title to change)

 

6

Race Paint (unedited)

 

7

Thunder and Rain (unedited)

 

8

A Chance Meeting (unedited)

 

9

--> FF.Net

 

Forest Guardian

cometotheberkside

25 May 2014, 19:20

Thank you guys! I will try to continue once I have the basic plotline figured out!

@WasBornCrazy I wasn't sure if you were talking about the story or the writerly resources (I'll just assume both XD) but the resources are really helpful to me and I wanted everyone to know about these (now that I think of it maybe I should have posted those in General or something )

1: Flight Procedures

 

HICCUP

Hiccup laughed as the wind took over.

The sweltering sun beat down on him, causing him to perspire greatly, especially on his forehead, where beads of sweat leaked down every few minutes, and he had to wipe them off to prevent distraction. He was not used to the high temperatures caused by humidity; no one was, but he especially had not been able to adjust to the switch, being the one with the most clothes on.

But besides the abnormal temperatures, everything else was flawless. The breeze was constant today, barely any variance, and the sky was a cerulean blue. A perfect day for flying, or so he liked to say.

He wasn’t wearing his helmet today. It was too warm for his liking, and besides, he loved the way the wind combed his auburn hair. He loved the way the salty sea spray misted his skin, the adrenaline rush he got whenever he performed a nosedive, the whoosh of powerful, beating wings on either side of his lanky body.

Flying was always an enjoyable pastime. As the son of Stoick the Vast, the chieftain of the Isle of Berk, he had many responsibilities to account for and take care of. As the adolescent grew older and into a young man, he noticed that as the years went on, his father became more persuasive in his arguments, ranting about the idea of him taking over the esteemed position of chief.

The problem (ultimately, there was always a catch) was that Stoick had been born knowing what to do, and who he was. He had been moulded into a perfect Viking- boisterous, strong, ambitious- since he was a wee lad. And he had grew up with all those motives and regulations stuck in his head.

But Hiccup knew he was different, the complete polar opposite of his father. His muscles lacked in strength. He preferred to be alone and in suitable, quiet areas, where his thoughts could roam freely. And he was no more ambitious than Tuffnut wanting to study the Dragon Book.

To him, taking leadership just wasn't suited for him. Yes, you could argue that he was the one who convinced and taught the gang how to ride dragons. But the idea had come from Astrid pestering him and pushing his inner mind to work harder. And yes, you could point out the drastic change of the Viking way of living after the Red Death had been eradicated by his own hands. You could come up will all these, and still Hiccup wouldn't be satisfied. There was just something that didn't feel right, like a missing puzzle piece, or a cogwheel that didn't click.

All through his entire life Hiccup had known this. He stuck out like a sore thumb. And yet, despite all this, he still vaguely remembered how hard he tried to fit in. It was a nearly impossible task for his twelve year old self.

At that time, he was placed under the care of Gobber the Belch, Berk’s blacksmith. Gobber had taken care of him while Stoick was away, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the dragon nest. The blacksmith had been a father to him, often taking him off to fish and letting the boy run free in the vicinity. By that age, Hiccup had matured quite a bit, and had thoroughly vanquished his old hobby of searching for trolls.

He’d started slow. In the hot smithy, the only cold draft of wind was when he stuck his head out of the window. Gobber had helped him learn the proper tools and methods, and by the time he was fourteen he could do many things by himself. Quite often his lack of strength proved to be a nuisance, but he could manage sharpening a few dull swords and muster enough to do most of the work.

The prosthetic tailfin that Toothless was using right now was of his creation, and his most proudest work yet, apart from his latest invention, a fire sword. The tailfin was attached to his own artificial foot, and he could change positions to adjust the angle that they were speeding at.

Hiccup had once made an automatic tailfin for the Night Fury. It was Snoggletog back then, when everyone was bustling throughout the hearty village, buying and bartering for presents that they would put into their recipients’ helmets. That specific year, the dragons had all flown away, except for his own, as his incapability had kept him rooted to the island. However, when Hiccup had given his best friend the autotail, he’d refused it, smashing it vainly against the snowbanks and rocks. That was the day that Hiccup had realized just how much they suited each other.

Admittedly, there was a secret that Hiccup had not yet told Toothless, and that was that he had created a compact autotail in the smithy on his spare time. Who knew, perhaps he would need it one day in the future.

Hiccup felt the winds change suddenly, and his momentum shift gears. He sat upright, clenching at the reins. "You ready, bud?" he shouted over the gale. His dragon nodded, and Hiccup clambered onto the Night Fury's back. Headfirst, he dropped from the sky, the wind whistling past his ears. His fall was a bit shaky; he'd have to tweak his procedure. Perhaps he'd have to lean over the side for a more gradual descent. He made a mental note, then whooped excitedly. On the ground, his legs -or leg, for the matter- felt like lead: heavy and confined to the earth. In the sky, however, he was lightweight.

The sound of his dragon spinning like a whirling dervish beside him had him caught in a smile. He squeezed open his eyes, grinning like an idiot.

“Hey Toothless,” he called out to his dragon, lolling his tongue out from the side of his mouth, attempting to imitate his best friend. The Night Fury blinked, unimpressed with Hiccup’s antics. “Aw, come on, bud! I tried my best!” he kidded. “Show me that smile of yours.”

Toothless complied reluctantly, letting loose a mouthful of gums that shot out vicious teeth.

“There’s the smile I know.” Hiccup bared his teeth as well. Toothless snorted, then swept his human friend up in its wings, rotating and drilling through fluffy clouds. The moment he let go, Hiccup extended his artificial wings, catching the air.

"It works!" Hiccup shouted triumphantly, buoyed up in the air. The airstream was peppering at his exposed face, and he experienced a twinge of regret for not bringing his helmet.

His flight suit embraced the wind as it drove him over the treetops. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he experienced a sense of giddiness. However, he was losing buoyancy fast, and he sighed as he realized he'd have to do more than just tweak his procedure: he may have to fix it all. Hopefully his father would let him stay up late today.

Toothless dove under him and caught him just in time. Hiccup quickly thrust his prosthetic back into the hold, and they swerved to the right, narrowly missing a spruce tree. The velocity that they were zooming at was too fast to come to a perfect landing, the momentum of their flight causing difficulties in slowing down. They landed on the forest floor, bodies rolling once in the undergrowth.

"That was lucky," Hiccup panted, climbing off . Toothless shook off pine needles from his sleek black coat. Hiccup touched a few scrapes on his hands gingerly, and pried off his sweaty garments plastered to his back. "I really need to fix some things. And you need to improve your solo gliding," he gestured with a nod towards Toothless.

Toothless flopped his head down in between his paws, the dragon equivalent to a shrug. Hiccup laughed, shaking his mop of hair. "Get up, for Thor's sake." Toothless moaned dramatically, then pretended to struggle to get up, even making a whole show of his “weak knees”.

“Toothless!” Hiccup whined querulously, nudging his friend in an effort to move him. Toothless didn’t budge, wearing a self-satisfied expression.

“Fine.” Hiccup flung his arms up in surrender. “If you’re not coming, then I’ll just leave you here.” He sauntered towards the opening of the forest, checking back on his dragon surreptitiously from the corner of his eye.

He caught a jerk of movement, a blur from his peripheral vision. He smirked as Toothless silently made his way to him, a pouting look on his face.

Hiccup wrapped an arm around his friend. “We’ll go flying again tomorrow, bud. Don’t you worry.”

Toothless purred in response, and the pair set off back home, a boy with pine needles stuck in his hair, and a dragon who didn’t bother at all to tell him.