TOO MANY IDEAS! AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!… Well, now that that's over, let me be clear: I have nothing against the plot, characters, or feel of How to Train your Dragon and it's spin-offs. It's a thoroughly enjoyable story. I just think there's a lot of extra depth and complexity that the movies and show can't really go into because of the gearing toward kids. This is my idea of what it might be like with a more adult tone and maybe a little magic mixed in. Have fun!

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"Speaking"

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'Thinking'

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Chapter 1

The Attack

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had always been a light sleeper. Most Vikings are, especially those who live on the island of Berk. Living in a village routinely attacked by dragons and humans alike will do that to you. Hiccup, however, was especially light in his sleep because he, unlike most Vikings, had quite a bit to prove.

It was this restlessness that awoke him one dark, freezing night in the middle of what passes for summer in the Ox-Helm Islands. The screams of terrified villagers were already piercing the night. There was only one thing that elicited that sort of sound from Vikings: a surprise dragon attack.

Hiccup shot out of bed, grabbed his rigging knife from his bedside table, and pulled on his boots as he ran for the stairs, his face set in determination. "This time. I'll do it this time." His determined whisper was met with an empty room. The door was already ajar; his father had left.

Hiccup ran straight through the open doorway, making a beeline for the burning village below. Other Vikings: huge warriors with battleaxes and war-hammers were already running down the hill, firelight glinting off their steel weapons. Battle cries and screams of terror mingled with the roars of Monstrous Nightmares and the hisses of Zipplebacks. Hiccup couldn't help but gulp. No matter how many times he had charged toward those sounds, it still took a conscious effort to keep his legs pumping. He groaned and shook the thoughts free from his mind. 'Come on. You'll never kill one if your this afraid.'

Finally reaching the base of the hill, he sprinted between buildings, burning, smashed or otherwise. He yelled a bit when a dragon; one of the smaller species, jumped on his shoulder and set his jacket on fire. He had just enough time to throw both his jacket and the dragon into a stone statue, pulling out his rigging knife in case anything similar happened. He was perfectly capable of fending off the small dragons, but he'd have to avoid the biggest ones. A small or medium-sized species was probably the best he could hope to kill, and that was if he managed to get a real weapon. Having had to defend himself from those smallest, nameless dragons as he went, Hiccup was panting by the time he reached the forge.

Gobber grinned in that strange, sort of annoyed way he did when Hiccup's inadequacy was showing itself worst. The boy couldn't blame the hulking blacksmith; his clothes were badly singed and ripped in several places. "Good, your finally here! These swords need to be hammered back out; I'm going to pass out some more weapons!" Hiccup stared at the pile of bent and burned blades and almost groaned.

"Gobber, come on! You're a better smith than me and I'm just as capable of handing those out. I've got to get in the action some time." The man shook his head. "Hiccup, we've been over this, you're no good at fighting and if anything happened to you, your dad would kill me. Now, stay here and get those swords fixed." The large, hook-handed man ran as best he could out the door (which was remarkably well, considering his peg-leg) and started yelling for people to get armed. Hiccup resignedly set to working at the bent metal, half wishing he could be out with the others and half knowing he'd probably be nothing but a burden. Two swords and a severe case of boredom later, he heard an especially loud yell before a house nearby exploded with a distinctive, otherworldly *PTWOO* sound.

"NIGHT FURY!" the call rang across the town and spread, the terror in the air was almost palpable as flashes of blue and orange light exploded everywhere! Hiccup's eyes widened, then he thought for a moment. He'd been waiting for a chance to prove himself. Night Furies were attacking and he had the firepower to bring them down. He turned to the corner and smiled shakily at the self-made bola launcher there. This plan was crazy. Most of his were, but this was just demented. He didn't care. Wordlessly, he grabbed the rolling contraption and ran it out the door, pushing it ahead of himself like a wheelbarrow.

He went around most of the big fights, trying to stay focused on his target. He could just barely pick them out, patches of black flitting across the sky at ridiculous speeds. If he had been thinking, he might have become doubtful of himself. But he wasn't thinking. It was a skill that had gotten him in trouble countless times before. Tonight, it was his strength. A few people stopped to ask what he was doing. Hiccup didn't stop, not even to return Snotlout's loud insinuations as to the validity of his manhood. His focus was complete.

Finally, he came to the outskirts of the village: a sheer cliff overlooking the better part of the huge pine forests of the island. He searched the skies until he found one, his eyes barely following it as it darted across the inky black sky. He set up his launcher and aimed carefully. He had to be patient. He'd never be able to keep up with the thing, so he had to let it come to him…

"GOTCHA!" He pulled the trigger of his weapon, launching the weighted ropes into the sky. There was a barely audible howl as he watched the beast fall to the ground, unable to fly amidst the tangle of rope. Hiccup was practically stunned into silence… for a moment, anyway. Then he was jumping for joy, whooping and completely unaware of his surroundings.

It was in that moment of pure joy that he felt a sudden sharp pain rake across his back. He fell to the ground, yelling incoherently! He could feel blood oozing out onto his back and down his ribs. He could barely bring himself to turn around and face his attacker. He would have groaned if he hadn't been frozen solid from fear and blood-loss. A Monstrous Nightmare, one of the most feared dragons known to Vikings, was creeping toward him, it's eyes filled with what looked distinctly like anger as it swiped at his launcher, knocking it off the cliff. Hiccup could have sworn that he saw a bit of worry, but dismissed the preposterous idea.

It was just his luck. He thought about trying to run, before remembering that his blood-slicked back was to a cliff. Trying to go sideways was also out; he had no chance of outrunning the dragon's claws. He was truly and utterly fucked.

He was resigning himself to a painful and utterly stupid death when a rock the size of a large watermelon collided with the Nightmare's head. It screeched and reeled; unable to keep it's balance. One of its horns had broken off. A man the size of a small bear jumped onto it and wrestled it to the ground, smashing a large, iron war-hammer into it's ribcage to finish the job. Wordlessly, Stoic the Vast, chieftain of the village of Resin on the island of Berk, kicked the enormous carcass off of the cliff before turning to Hiccup. The boy almost sighed. He knew he was about to be killed, but at least it was in the metaphorical sense.

"Hiccup, just what in the darkest pits of Hel do you think you're doing?" The boy would have had a witty comeback, but his body's adrenaline rush had finally petered out. All he could manage was a contorted, self-satisfied smirk and a muttered "Hey dad," before he passed out.