So yeah, got the idea to write the HtTYD movie-story from Toothless' perspective. It has been done before, it will be done again, and I should probably focus on my already running projects –or school– rather than this, but now that I'm already writing it, it's a bit too late to change my priorities. Though I'm sure that people are waiting on the next chapter of Mann to the Core, and would rather see me writing on that than this (not to mention that I'm also overdue on the update for my RP, The resurgence of QAI, over on the spacebattles forums), I know very well that trying to focus on something else than what I currently "feel" like writing results in relatively poor quality and a distinct lack of major progress.

Oh, and by the way, as per my usual disclaimer, I hereby state that I am in no way the legal owner of any copyrighted materials, such as How to Train Your Dragon, which are not my own property. All properties belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1: Clipped Wings

He'd been here longer than he cared to admit. Ever since that one time when he maybe, just maybe strayed a bit too far from his original flock than what was really wise, he'd been stuck here, caught in the Queen's web of terror and control. They'd said that the area was to be avoided, but his curiousness had gotten the best of him and he'd flown in regardless, which ultimately ended up being… not quite as good of a decision as he'd initially expected. He'd flown right into one of the Queen's gathering parties and gotten talked into following them back to their nest, where he'd met the Queen and he had to serve her because it was best for him and how could that voice ever be wrong?

Vaguely, some small part of his mind didn't quite agree, and it usually got louder the more time he spent away from the Queen, trying to tell him that the Queen was bad and harm and pain and wrong, but then he'd get back to the Nest and Her entrancing voice would push it back into the shadows of his mind, where it belonged. She had said that it was bad, and lying, and the Queen was never wrong; sometimes, reality was wrong, and had to be adjusted to fit the Queen's words, but she was still right, even when reality did not agree. She said so, and as she was always right, it had to be true.

He felt a slight nudge in the back of his mind, and now he caught himself – 'web of terror and control'? What was he thinking? The Queen was wonderful; coming here had been the best decision in his life. She ruled, yes, but she herself had said that she was kind and caring –it felt like the truth, coming from her– and she only ate one or two of the night-black dragon's nest mates when the food from the gathering expeditions had been more scarce than usual… albeit that was about half of the time, but she only ate what was needed for the Nest to survive. She was good for Them; She would not do such a thing unless necessary, and it only became necessary if the Nest failed to bring back enough to prevent starvation. If the Queen was well fed, so were They.

It was with those thoughts that he, as well as the majority of the Nest's other inhabitants, prepared to leave on yet another gathering expedition. They had split up into a few groups, with the first three aiming for hunting and fishing in the wilds, whilst the final two, being somewhat larger than the others, were headed for two different Builder-nests, where the food was more concentrated but also considerably more dangerous as the Builders themselves guarded it fiercely. He found himself in the fourth group; combat as usual. He was one-of-a-kind – there were no other Shadow Hunters in the Nest, and with his powerful fire he was a great aid to any aggressive gather, much more so than he would have been in the peaceful ones.

Usually, the flight there would be rather monotonous and, had it not been for the fact that he found himself getting roped into educating a rather annoying, young newcomer, a leaf-green Two-Head who just kept arguing with herself and had first come into the glory of the Queen just a few days ago, it would probably not have been any more eventful than usual.

Much to his chagrin, however, he found himself wasting the peaceful nightly flight by explaining the dangers of an aggressive gather; the Builders in particular taking up much of the focus. He explained the two-legged, wingless creatures, their comparative weakness to a dragon (a word which they'd actually picked up from the Builders; they didn't have a collective name for all their kin before, as what was the point back when there were only Them and Food?), balanced out by their nasty habit to come in swarms, much like Little-Biters, but above all, their danger laid in their apparent ability to create strange things; stone-throwing creatures out of the corpses of trees they mercilessly slaughtered; they made deadly claws out of rocks and controlled brown, twisty, snake-like creatures which had a nasty habit of ensnaring the nest-mates unfortunate enough to be caught by them, leaving them exposed and vulnerable. They couldn't breathe fire, but somehow they still made it appear around them, and worst of all, they had attempted on countless occasions to bring harm to the Nest – all failed of course, as the Nest was more than capable of stopping their floating sea-trees before they reached their apparent destination. Regardless, the intention was bad enough in its own right.

That little, different part of his mind piped up and said that maybe the Builders wouldn't be raiding the Nest if said Nest didn't 'aggressively gather' the Builders' food in the first place, but as the Queen had said, the Builders were merciless killers, beasts, evil creatures intent on destroying Them, so the Nest's efforts couldn't possibly have anything to do with those attacks. Obviously, the little part was lying again, and was thus ignored as it should be.

Before he managed to get even halfway through his explanation, their target appeared on the horizon. He probably would've been able to finish it had that insolent Two-Head not kept interrupting him by arguing with herself all the time – Shadow Hunters were higher in rank, and he had better things to do than wait for a Two-Head's arguments with itself to die down for the tenth time. Thus, he was in a bit of a sour mood as the gathering flare reached the Builder-nest, and began the gather.

As per his usual tactic, he held off during the first stages, unwilling to spend his efforts early when they might be more needed later. Silently, he watches the Builders erupt into chaos as his nest-mates swoop down to collect their bounty, but the disorder doesn't last for long, so he soon finds himself diving down, charging up his fire to destroy one of the Builders' stone throwers. Having picked up a few scraps here and there of the Builders' strange language over the years, he was able to detect their warning of a Shadow Hunter, followed by a command to avoid him, and as his first bolt of blue fire was released, eliminating the stone thrower in the process, he managed to catch a glimpse of the one he'd managed to identify as the Builders' queen, of sorts, as the being jumped out of the collapsing structure. Paying it no further thought, he swiftly turned around and unleashed a second bolt on the same target, demolishing the thrower's lower structure before he retreated back into the night, awaiting the appearance of another suitable target.

Before long, it revealed itself in the form of another active stone thrower, which swiftly met its end in much the same way as the first one, blasted into splinters by the azure fire of a Shadow Hunter. He circled around, taking a better look at the demolished tower; indecisive on whether or not it could use a second shot. It was during this moment that his ears picked up a precarious flapping sound, definitively not from any dragon. Then, all of a sudden, something wrapped itself around him, denying him the use of his wings, and as he plummeted down towards the earth below, he let out a roar of pure fury.

Within moments, the freefall through the air was over as he rocketed straight into the trees below – at least he hadn't ended up in the water; there was no way he could have avoided drowning, if that was the case. He tore through the tree branches as if they weren't even there, helpless to stop his descent. Then, his fall led him straight into a tree, and as his left side careened into it at what some would call dizzying speeds, it shattered, sending splinters flying all over the place and causing a searing, near-blinding pain to erupt from his tail. He tumbled down a slope, sending earth flying in all directions and, as his mind finally fell to unconsciousness, he failed to register the fact that he was no longer in movement; that his fall was over; that he'd actually survived. (How much longer he was going to live now that he was immobilised was up for debate, though.)

By the time he came to, the sun was up and shining brightly, much to the chagrin of the commonly nocturnal dragon. Considering his current state however… the time of day was definitively not high up on the list of problems. It felt like his body was on fire. Not literally, mind you – he'd had his fair share of arguments turning to brute force, often through the use of fire and flame, and this was definitively not like that.

No, it was much, much worse. Even getting flamed in the mouth, in the middle of preparing fire yourself, couldn't begin to compare to this, and that was saying a lot. His tail felt especially bad; horrible, in fact, to the point where he just wanted to lie down and sleep for eternity.

He didn't stay awake for long, though he didn't exactly spend eternity in blissful unconsciousness, either. A second time he woke, feeling somewhat better than before (though still by no means good, mind you); regardless, he quickly fell back to sleep again, his body not wishing to waste resources on wakefulness.

The third time, he doesn't wake by himself; something is touching him!

Snapping his eyes open, he finds himself met with the sight of a Builder; a hatchling, even. It smelt of fear, surprise, the general "I-am-a-Builder" smell (which he'd noted came in two varieties, male and female, though he was yet to figure out which was which) and, somewhat weakly, there was a stinging tint of metal blended in. It soon begins making noises, some of which he finds more comprehensible than others.

He recognises the word for kill, one for intent, and the one meaning dragon as well. It's… telling him that it will kill him? Unsurprising; it's just like the Queen said. Merciless killers. Still, some part of him holds on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, his life wouldn't end yet (and in such a humiliating way, no less; killed by a hatchling, of all things! Oh if that happened he'd never live it down.

…admittedly, that was a pretty terrible pun…)

His jaw was firmly held immobile by the snakes; he could not speak, so he tried to plead with his eyes. Please, he didn't want to die.

Unfortunately, all he managed to do was to upset the hatchling, which angrily stated that it was a Builder, holding up a metallic-smelling claw in its paws in obvious preparation for the kill. Anger raced through him. How stupid did it think he was? How would he not know it was a Builder – he knew very well their looks and smell after his years of fighting.

…what did he expect, though? It was a beast – it did not know mercy. Giving out one last, pleading look, he closed his eyes and gave up. It was no use, but if he was going to die, he might as well keep what little dignity he had left.

But the strike never came.

The Builder-hatchling mumbled something in the background, and just a few moments later, the dragon's ears picked up a snap. Another one followed; the snake's grip weakened. More came, his legs were released and, suddenly, he was free.

Before his brain even registered what was happening, he found himself staring down into the forest-green eyes of the Builder-hatchling now firmly pinned under his right paw. The roles were reversed and, unlike the hatchling, he wouldn't miss the kill.

His nose soon caught up, telling him that the hatchling smelled strongly of fear, some surprise and ...wonder? Why did it smell of wonder? It makes no sense; the fear was as it should be, but it shouldn't be amazed like that. It wasn't even fighting back.

Actually, come to think of it, it had probably released him deliberately. It had him where it was fully capable of harming, even killing him, and yet it had let. Him. Go. He couldn't kill it now – if he did, he would be worse than the Builder; killing someone who had just spared your life was just about the most shameful thing one could do. His life having been spared, he owed it on his honour to the one who spared it to return the favour. He couldn't kill this hatchling, no matter how much he wished to.

He could, however, warn him, even if he couldn't violently enforce his warning. So he gathered up his pent-up anger and frustration, and let it go, roaring "Stay away from me!" with all his might. Then, he turned and took flight, hoping that he'd never see the hatchling again.

Something went wrong, however.

All of a sudden, his flight veered off to the left, slamming his body straight into a nearby tree. Roaring in confusion, he got back on course, only to lose control once again. He tried once more, but it was hopeless. He had no control – it almost felt as if...

No. It couldn't be...

Rising from the ground once more, he brought his tail out in front of his eyes and-

No! No, no, no! It couldn't be! His left tailfin was gone! Gone! Oh this wasn't happening! It... it couldn't... gone...

At that moment, the dragon broke, letting out a wail of ultimate despair and loss. Flight was his All; the thought of losing it, unbearable. He grieved for hours, eventually growing quieter as time passed, until the mental exhaustion was simply too much, and he passed out, sleeping firmly on the soft grass covering the ground.

Figured that this was as good a time as any to end the first chapter. Hope you enjoyed it.

Comments and reviews are appreciated.