Guardian Light in the Night

a/n; when someone said they saw fanart I got excited for a second as I thought they meant of this fic, then I realized they meant this concept, hah.

I'm sorry people were disappointed Dagur didn't die. I wanted to set up a possible antagonist and thought he fit the role.

The baby bird part being a deleted scene explains why I never saw it - I don't own a version with any extras!

Does anyone else find it more than slightly plothole-ish that night furies are these big horrors that 'no one comes back alive from and no one knows what they look like' but then in a later movie we find out humans killed all of them except Toothless? It's not like Berk is completely isolated, they do trade with other islands and surely would be interested in information on dragons. Perhaps they left poisoned food out for the furies, that would make some degree of sense, if furies were known to take food - but Toothless doesn't. Maybe, however, he learned the hard way not to.

She, of course, was not going to stand for dragons being slaughtered on her behalf. But she wasn't going to make things worse for Hiccup, either. So, while she took up the fight, she was very careful not to connect her two identities of dragon and ghost: as far as they were concerned, the ghost was gone and the shots fired out of the sky were by a night fury, rather than a light fury like herself.

She was not quite sure what to make of the strange little dragon figurine. It was not exactly useful, just sitting still when she rested it on the ground, but she did recognize it looked like one of her kin. Licking it made it clear it wasn't a food. But she put it in her usual nesting place anyway. It made her a little sad, really, like having an almost-hatchling.

"This is bad news, Stoick. It looks like we have not one Night Fury now, but two, and this second one... she's got a sharper mind, she's keener on protectin' the other dragons," No, she had a mind, period. "Since she showed up, we haven't killed a single dragon." Good.

"You really think it's a she, Gobber?"

"Aye, I'm worried it could become a breeding pair." Like she'd mate with someone who wasn't in their own mind. How disgusting. "We could soon have an infestation on our hands."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Aye, I do. The old one never took food for itself, but I noticed this one did, and there are more signs of them landing on the ground, too..." the crippled old man leaned in and whispered, and she could no longer, even with her keen hearing, make them out, for she was already at a distance.

.

It was not all sad news. Though she kept her distance, she noticed one day Hiccup with a small baby bird he was tending. It was sweet, and showed that despite his promise and training to become a killer, he had not quite changed to a monster yet.

A wary part of her was wondering if it was only a matter of time, though. After all, that very baby bird showed less fear and aggression to him than if it had been an injured adult. Babies of many a species were less aggressive. How long, then, until he turned into a true killer? He was already progressing much better in his swordsmanship than if she had never shown up, using his left rather than his right hand. Hiccup was mechanically gifted, too, experimenting with traps.

She recognized an old hated foe in the tangled leather and metal contraptions.

That was why she did not fall to the first traps set out for her.

But there was one that was different. No metal, no leather, only tantalizing fresh fish after she'd had a rather poor day of hunting, due to spending too much of her time protecting other dragons from attack instead. The work was, frankly, exhausting when they were so determined to throw themselves repeatedly into danger, but she felt some dragon had to do it. There was admittedly something a little odd about it - an extra tang of salt coated it, but salt was a familiar scent on fish from the sea.

She was very careful only to approach the whee hours of the night, almost near morning, well after the raids were done but before anyone would be inclined to wake up after the exhausting night. Cautious of a trap, she reached out to paw it then darted away.

Nothing happened.

Satisfied, she moved to take it into her jaws.

Something huge and black smacked into her with a whining, frantic keening, and she snarled as she dropped it. The Night Fury! How dare he interrupt her to take her prey! The thief could get his own! For his insolence, she delivered three slashes to his snout, and he danced back, crooning pitifully, yet when she reached down again for the food he launched himself between her and the food.

She slashed him, but he ignored her and turned his head and fired at the food, incinerating it into a crisp.

He wasn't even attempting to eat it! What was wrong with him? Who wasted perfectly good food?

Clearly, the Night Fury was completely driven insane by that blue cuckoo-dragon abomination. She was startled, though, to see his eyes looked clearer and more focused than they had in the entire time she'd known him. It didn't last, however. The commotion had attracted the humans, and as they poured out and the two dragons flitted away from the scene of the crime, his eyes slitted again.

"Damn it! They didn't take the bait!"

...bait?

So, it was a trap.

She stared at him with more mixed feelings now. He had saved her. For a moment, his mind had even been clear. But his mind was gone again, and he did not respond when she gave a low, tentative, thoughtful croon. It was like a hope of company had been tangled in front of her, then yanked away, for it was quite clear. The dragons here, for all her effort to defend them, were completely lost to her.

She was alone once more.

It was a familiar feeling. It was truly not the first time she'd thought, for a brief moment, she'd found company, only to have it stolen from her by a foe in what seemed like the very next moment.

The Light Fury would persevere, she would endure. For she had, countless years. The she-dragon did not need company, she told herself. She only craved it. And she could be patient. Eventually, an opportunity would present itself, and perhaps...

Perhaps she would get revenge on one of her old foes. That was beginning to sound as satisfying as anything else, even if she went down with them.