Actions

Work Header

Forbidden Friendship

Summary:

What do you do when the one you love is also the enemy? Louis has his goals set on being the best Viking in Berk, and all is going well until he meets the mysterious Harry Styles.

Notes:

This is something else I’ll be writing. I’m not sure about it yet so please, tell me what you think? This is based from the movie How To Train Your Dragon (based, not following completely) so as you read I would recommend listening to the soundtrack because the music is amazing.

Chapter Text

This was preposterous.

The best dragon slayer was being forced to stay behind of tonight of all nights when his skills were the most beneficiary. It was unbelievable, absolutely uncanny that Louis of all the others would be locked in the back of the cellar with nothing but a sharp, silver ax to keep him company. He could only whack it repeatedly against the wooden pillar in an attempt to break an escape path.

This was completely, utterly unreasonable. The Vikings needed an expert on their side, but no. Louis Tomlinson was just going to sit this one out. The thought was insulting itself, let alone unsettling with him considering he was known best for his bravery and perseverance. No, he wasn’t cold-blooded, at least he didn’t think so. But with his striking personality and witty charm, and his rather compulsive behaviour with no regard to others, perhaps that could be mistaken for a heartless human being.

Like the other Vikings, Louis killed dragons for a living. He could almost be classified as a brooding person with the way he murdered mercilessly, dismissing lives as if they were nothing. They were only dragons anyway. What could they possibly mean to him more than reckless animals that stole their food and only brought turmoil to the village of Berk.

Vikings spent the entire year gathering enough food for the village, and these heartless monsters went out of their way to steal. They were practically begging to be slaughtered, as if they had even half the brains to think they could get past the finest Vikings guarding the village gates.

Louis grunted, latching his ax onto the door with a mighty thrust, mumbling curses under his breath. He swore once he got his hands on those bloody Vikings, he was going to make them sorry for ever keeping him confined. When the latch broke loose and the door flung open, the sound of explosions constricting his eardrums, a sly smirk made its way to his face. Nobody could keep him trapped for long, it seemed.

“What are you doing out?”

“Get inside!”

“Oh shut it, will ya?” Louis rolled his eyes, shouting at the other men angrily. He began walking around, watching as men and women ran around with axes in panic, as if declaring a war. “I just want to help! I don’t see you doing anything. I swear, you give a bad name to Vikings everywhere. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to-”

“Louis, what are you doing outside?” The pig-headed man growled at him. “I told you to stay inside! How on earth did you even get out? I bolted those doors and everything!”

Louis heaved a breathy sigh, dropping his hands to his side. “Stoick, I believe you’re forgetting who I am.”

The chief glowered at him darkly, his chestnut beard the prominence of his face. Louis agreed himself that it was not a very attractive look on him, that shaving off the beard might improve his appearance dramatically. On the other hand, Vikings were supposed to leave an impression.

“Now’s not the time for this, Louis. You need to get back inside, Night Furies are scattered all over—shit!” Stoick ducked his head right as a bolt of fire flew over him, nearly darting his hair. The flames lit up the scowl on his face as he jabbed a finger in Louis’ face. “You see, it’s dangerous out here!”

“Why do you suggest I can’t handle it? Honestly, do I need to remind you who I am?” Louis glared at him, living up to his respective role. “I’m Louis Tomlinson! I can handle anything and everything that walks the face of the earth.” He wouldn’t lie about such a thing.

“Quit with the arrogance and get inside that cellar!” Stoick continued to shout, pointing at the building behind him.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he spoke with indignation, pushing past him to reach the vault where the weapons were kept. It was always Stoick that got on his bad side, telling him what he wasn’t capable of, always putting him down. Well, not this time. Nobody had ever killed a Night Fury, and Louis was going to be the first.

“Hoist the torches!” Someone said from above as flames lit up the night sky, revealing dragons of all kinds flying above.

Louis clenched his fists angrily, wanting desperately to take matters in his own hand and destroy these motherfuckers once and for all. He was searching for any unattended catapults when he caught a glimpse of a teenage boy who appeared to be sitting behind a wall of weaponry, the light from the flames behind brightening the lousy expression he wore.

Louis could have sworn he was staring back and once he came to terms that he was being a little creepy, he retracted his body to the unearthly being behind him which was catching up to him. He ran and he ran, until his legs gave in and he was forced to step into the cottage for something other than a sword.

The young boy’s eyes were on him the minute he stepped in. Louis was breathing heavily, fighting to catch his breath.

“An ax, please,” Louis demanded, the curly-headed boy moving right away to retrieve the weapon from the wall. Behind him hung razor blades and what appeared to be molten steel in the process of being made. Louis grabbed the ax and almost immediately ran outside the cottage, shouting on his way out, “Thanks!”

“Louis!” A voice called from behind. “I thought you were staying inside.”

“Not you too,” Louis groaned, watching the blonde-haired lad as he shot a flame into the sky, a loud growl bellowing in their ears as the two-headed Zippleback flew away in anguish. “Why does everyone think so little of me, honestly? I’m the best we have to offer!”

“You know I couldn’t agree more,” he complied, flipping back his hair. He moved closer to the other boy, keeping his eyes on the figures in the sky.

“Stoick doesn’t think so.”

Helping Louis retrieve the instrument of his choice, Niall clicked his tongue and hollered, “Screw Stoick! Go kick some dragon arse and show him the vicious motherfucker you are.”

From the distance, they could hear Stoick announce to the other slayers, “We move to the lower defenses. We'll counter-attack with the catapults!”

“I plan to.” Louis looked back at his friend before he hoisted himself against the wheeled contraption, pulling it out from the weaponry and out in the open. He squinted his eyes, trying to focus which was rather difficult with his friend babbling beside him.

“Looking sharp, Lou! You might actually hit something tonight and get it over with! I mean I know you like to beat around the bush, sometimes even go to the ends for torture, and I have to say I admire you especially for that and I’m sure Stoick would if he gave you a chance—holy shit!”

Louis shared that mumbled curse, watching as the triggered slingshot flew into the air, near the bell tower, just barely hitting a man standing at the top. The pained screeches, followed by a crash, caused Louis to smile brightly, knowing he’d accomplished something tonight.

“I did it,” he breathed in disbelief. “I killed a Night Fury.”

“I can’t believe this,” Niall said with a gasp, still staring at the sight before them. They had completely ignored everything around them, only able to keep their focus on what they’d just witnessed. “We’ve got to tell everybody!”

“And rave in my glory?” Louis scoffed disapprovingly. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, mate. Nope, the whole village will know by tomorrow. I can guarantee that.”

“Behind you—” Niall began, but Louis was way ahead of him.

He threw his sword over his chest in defence which was rather difficult to do since this dragon—the Monstrous Nightmare—tended to light itself on fire. Whether that was a sign that it was pissed off or just its way of defence, Louis couldn’t bring himself to care as he brought his sword forward and swung it over the dragon, not exactly making a direct hit. He knew he missed because in one frame of second the dragon’s mouth was over his head, and before Louis knew it he was being dragged away by another lad while Niall stayed behind and fought.

“Zayn, I could have handled that myself!” Louis complained, speaking between gasps of breath. Despite his confidence, the Monstrous Nightmare had caught him off guard.

“What, no ‘thanks for saving my arse’? Can’t say I didn’t expect that,” Zayn muttered, wiping a gash of blood from his forehead. He winced, rubbing his bloody hand onto the hem of his shirt. “Fuck, not my face…”

Louis grinned at him, though his mood was far from happy. “Get over it. Now move.” He pushed himself past the dark-haired boy, who then tugged his shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell Stoick to shove his ego up his arse because I caught a Night Fury,” the feathered-hair boy smiled proudly, not letting Zayn’s irritated expression affect him.

“Really?” Zayn didn’t sound truly convinced. “Where is it?”

“Somewhere in the forest. I’ll look for it later,” Louis assured him, wagging a hand in his face as he began to take off again.

The sight was pretty awful, to say the least. The destruction was only the least of their worries considering the many lives that had been taken tonight. It wasn’t fair. These fucking animals came by every now and then to steal food that the Vikings spent months growing and finding and what did that do for them? Nothing but fill their stomachs only to return for more. It wasn’t a very rewarding lifestyle, really.

He flung another slingshot at what appeared to be a Gronckle, which were rather hippo-like and smaller compared to the other dragons. Louis missed this time and decided to give up.

It wasn’t too often that he ran from a fight, but he had been locked up all night and besides the amazing fact that he caught a Night Fury, he just wasn’t at the top of his game tonight.

He started to head back to his house, triumphant after tonight’s events. There was no doubt his reputation would improve and more people would gain respect for him, Stoick included. It wasn’t that Louis wasn’t good, just that Stoick was the chief of the tribe and was hard to impress.

He passed the same building he’d been in several minutes before and noticed that the teenager was no longer sitting inside. Perhaps he had decided to make himself busy and join the fight instead of just sitting around.

Louis stretched his limbs as he opened the door to his house. Thankfully he lived at the edge of the village, where it was silent enough to get some sleep. The sound of explosions was distinct and almost calming in a way when he lay down to rest that night.