This is my first time writing a full-out story with chapters and stuff XD Enjoy and please comment on what I need to improve on. :D

Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon and the characters in it.

EDIT: This is rewritten – it now has a more detailed background of Aleda. This is quite long, since I'm going to cover a lot of things here.

Prologue

"Take a deep breath in… now push!" The midwife made exaggerated breathing motions to help the woman in front of her give birth. The poor woman's face was pale with exhaustion, a puddle of sweat drenched her entire tunic. "Just one more push, and this will be over, alright?"

Valka grunted ungracefully as tried to contain her screams – she knew if she did, her husband would crash the doors down, and she really didn't want to spend the entire winter repairing the door, especially in the freezing cold.

Why her child had decided that it was time to come out at this day, just two months before Snoggletog, she did not know. Maybe she could hold a grudge at her when she was old enough to understand.

Stoick always thought the baby was a boy. Valka thought it was a girl.

When the agony ripped through her abdomen as her tiny child came out, all she could think was deep hatred and love for her husband – when she was pregnant, and though she listened to many tales about birth, she did not know it would hurt this much.

But for now, she would concentrate to bring her child to the world, though she really hoped she would stay inside her, for the world was cruel and scary.

Her teeth gritted in a high pitch, but the midwife did not flinch at all – maybe she was used to it. Valka secretly admired the midwife, and would have reminded herself to pay her a fair amount of money if not for the constant exploding pain.

She didn't know when it was over – she only knew that there was an excited yelp from the midwife, and the shout that came after that, "It's a boy! Congratulations, Valka!"

A boy? I guess I was wrong then. She flailed her arms for her child, her entire body weak from giving birth to her son.

Her son.

And then a cry interrupted her thoughts – it seemed so painful, so high-pitched. She reminded herself that this must be done to make sure her son could breathe, but hearing him cry, and in his first moments of life, made her heart ache. When she finally got her son back, blood wiped clean, she gasped.

Unbelievable. Her fingers traced the tiny brown hair sprouted from her baby's head – his eyes surprisingly green. Just like his father, she smiled, cooing at her newborn child. It was only seconds, and she had fallen in love with her son.

But he looked so fragile, so small and thin, unlike the other babies she'd seen. She felt a pang of sorrow for the baby she cradled in her arms. You shouldn't have inherited that, she thought, You should have been strong, like your father, She smiled, but this time, it felt forced – Not frail, like your mother.

Then she felt everything stop.

Pain. Great pain. It was as if she was being torn apart, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

She felt someone snatch her son away – No! She thought, but she couldn't concentrate on even speaking through the pain. What's going on?! She wanted to scream, to know what was happening at that very instant.

"Valka!"

What now?!

"Another child is coming!"

What?

She pushed again, and though she thought she would be used to the pain of giving birth, she was not.

In fact, it felt like it hurt even more, like someone pressed red-hot iron into her.

When it was finally over, she heard the midwife exclaim in shock, and a tiny bit of horror.

"What? What is it?" Valka snapped, slightly guilty on the shocked and hurt face that flashed across the midwife's face for a moment.

The midwife handed the baby over to her, only lightly saying that she was a girl. And like the midwife's reaction, she gasped.

"What… I don't understand." She traced over the skin of her daughter – or rather, scales.

But she was still beautiful, like any other newborn baby.

With a jolt of horror, Valka's hoarse voice and widened eyes turned to the midwife.

"My husband, he can't see this. Not now, not ever." She cradled her daughter closer to herself, scared that she would be snatched away and killed for her strangeness. She hoped the midwife wasn't a dragon hater.

Fortunately, she wasn't.

"I'll help you." The midwife produced a dark wrap from a cabinet, taking the baby gently in her arms and wrapping the baby around with it, her face and body hidden underneath. "I'll say it was infected by a very contagious disease, and only you and I will be able to see her." She eyed the worried mother, and sighed, "I might have to keep her and see if those… scales… fall off."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we'll have to hide her until she is able cover her scales."

The young mother wept for her children's fate – one will have to hide, while one will grow up frail, both unlike the Viking code.

~/~

"Hiccup." Stoick stroked his son's head fondly, "His name is Hiccup."

He was such a wee little thing, so small, so fragile. Stoick wrinkled his nose at his brother's jeers, his forehead crinkled at his scoffs. The chief had in turn coldly snapped at his brother's boast about his unborn son and his insults about the newborn baby, saying he was the "runt of the litter".

Stoick hoped that by naming his son Hiccup, though it was an unofficial name for the smallest and scrawniest, would help his son become even stronger and "scare away gnomes and trolls", according to Gobber.

Like he would trust this stuff.

But, better be safe than sorry. Stoick smiled down at his son again, briefly looking up to his wife, noting her concerned and distressed face.

He gently put his son on the crib, who had finally started to stop the wailing and yanking, and placed a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Val," He lightly shook her shoulder, "What's wrong?" He knew what was wrong, but he knew it would be better if she said something herself.

Her hand laid on her still swollen belly, "He's so… tiny, so frail. I'm scared…" She trailed off in the middle of her sentence with her head drooped down.

"No, Val." He firmly lifted his wife's head up, "He will be strong, just you see. He'll be such a fighter, like you. I know that both of our children will grow up to be the strongest Viking we will ever see."

She sniffed, and quietly whispered one word, "Aleda."

Taken by surprise, Stoick blinked and asked, "What?"

"Aleda." Valka's smile grew a little, "I've been waiting to tell you. The Elder said it was a good name."

"Why a Spanish name?" Stoick was very confused – why were they naming their daughter after some gold stealing people?

"The Elder said it meant small and winged." She grinned a little, "And I don't want her to be named something… Viking. I want her to be special, like Hiccup."

"Val… We can always–"

"Remember your promise? If the baby turns out to be a boy, you get to name it. But if it's a girl, I will name it. Now that we have one boy one girl, you named Hiccup, so I decide what to call our daughter." Her fierce glance had always… intimidated Stoick. And that's saying something.

"Alright. But can you at least tell me why?" He sighed, knowing he could not – and would not – argue with his wife.

"I wish my daughter could fly to freedom with her wings, to achieve happiness." Valka's thoughts had always been different than other Vikings – while other Vikings wanted their children to be strong to fend off the constant dragon raids, Valka only wished for her children to be happy and free. Of course, Stoick never really knew that Valka had meant her words literally, something that he would only learn about fifteen years later.

And though his wife was admittedly strange according to Viking terms, he was proud to have such a woman in his life. She was always so optimistic, bringing him hope when he needed it. "How is she?" He felt like he sunk to the bottom of the ocean when he heard the news about his daughter – plagued by an infectious disease! It took hundreds of warnings from the midwife, who turned out to also be a healer, and about twenty men and his wife to hold him down from charging into the door right there and then.

Valka was very worried about her daughter – not because she had a disease, which wasn't even true, but she feared of what others will say, how they would treat her, especially her husband, as they were all brought up that dragons were horrible creatures.

It really didn't help that her daughter looked like one.

The midwife helped her gather rumours and information about the conditions of her daughter – however, they all had no source, and they had no idea whether they were true or not.

One said that they were the demon's children. Valka threw the book into the fire, much to the midwife's chagrin.

One said that they had dragon parents. Valka slammed that book on the floor.

One said that it was some kind of bloodline, and only in the rarest case would such child be created. Valka scoffed at it, very clearly recalling that none of her relatives had scales on their face.

Weeks had passed since the naming ceremony, and still she had no results about her daughter's condition. Hopeless, she turned to the midwife for help, who began to become her good friend, the only person she trusted.

"All we can do now is to hide her identity." She said, solemnly. "There's no other choice."

"What do you mean, hide her identity?" Valka had an idea where this was going.

"There's no other choice, Valka. Your child will have to wear a cloak, all the time."

Cloaks were considered as cowardly. Cloaks were known as concealing something evil and horrible. At that moment, Valka knew her daughter would have an extremely terrible life.

"What?!" Stoick nearly flipped the table from his sudden outburst.

"It's the disease, Stoick." Valka tried her best not to stutter and to look as innocent and depressed as possible. "It… scarred her. Now she has to wear–"

"A CLOAK?!" He bellowed, almost guilty at his poor wife's reaction, "Do you know what that means Valka?!"

"I have no choice, Stoick!" Tears streamed down her face, "I know what a cloak means, Stoick. I also know how expensive and how it will impact our family. But I have no choice!" It was her yelling now, although not as loud as the chief's, but at least she made her point.

"Just because she's scarred, doesn't mean she has to wear that… thing!"

"I insist!"

"You're making her life harder than it is! She's going to grow up being laughed at!"

At least she won't be killed! She thought, but she knew that she could not say that aloud – her husband will find out, and he will kill her. Having no other comebacks, she stood up and left the table, storming up the stairs to find something to cry on.

Stoick sighed and ran his hair along his beard, pulling on a few and became frustrated, both at himself and his wife.

Both knew each other had a point. Both knew that the other was right. Unfortunately, both were too stubborn to admit it. Both were thinking to let time wash over this, and talk about it another day.

If only they knew they didn't have another day.

Another dragon raid.

He should've known – after all, they just had to attack at the start of devastating winter.

For a second, he wondered if dragons hibernated at all.

And then he was out of the door with his battle-axe, protecting his village and people. He hoped Valka would stay safe in the house with Hiccup.

He tried to find a balance between fighting and slaying the dragons so they could not take away the village's supplies for the winter, and to try to give mercy to them, as his wife often told him to.

And when he saw a Monstrous Nightmare fly away into the night and an exasperated grunt from another Viking, mumbling something about his wife, he knew that his wife didn't stay at home, away from all the danger.

Again.

A sudden realisation hit him – if his wife wasn't at home, then Hiccup was alone.

In the middle of a dragon raid.

He abruptly turned direction, avoiding a dragon that tried to snap at him – what type it was, he paid no mind. All he knew was that his son was in danger, and he had to get to his house, now.

And was met with a huge hole, as well as a baby's cries.

His baby's cries.

He jumped in through the hole, and saw an enormous dragon facing Valka.

It was very close to her.

Acting out of instinct, he threw his axe towards it, hoping his wife was not hurt. "Valka, run!" He ran to dodge the fire he knew would come.

Where he ended up right outside the ring of fire that trapped his son and his wife.

No! His eyes widened with fear. "Hold on!" He knew what to do. He had to.

He rolled over the fire to retrieve Hiccup from his cradle and held his axe to attack the dragon–

"No! Stoick!" The distinct shout of his wife led him looking up into the sky.

Where the dragon was carrying her.

No no no no no no! "VALKA!" He cried, wishing his shouts would cause the beast to release her. No! I can't lose you!

"Stoick!" Her voice, he could hear and feel, filled with regret, helplessness, mournful… And yet he could only stand there and watch his wife disappear into a dot.

"Valka." Hiccup wailed in his arms, as if he knew what happened.

He could not believe that his wife was carried away by dragons.

And he couldn't even stop the dragon, or to protect his wife, only watch helplessly as his wife was snatched away, and never come back.

Part of him hoped it was just a dream. But the heat of the fire around him was too real to be a dream.

No… He didn't even had the chance to apologise, to hug her one last time, to caress her cheeks with the back of his hand… Their last memories, was a fight between them.

I'll carry out your wish, Valka. The chief finally allowed himself tears that had not been spilled since decades.

But before he turned away from that wretched sky that made him felt so useless, his eyes turned steel as his hand on his axe grew tighter that he would later wonder how his axe didn't break under his grip, and thought of only one thing.

You will pay for this, dragons.

Over the years, Aleda and Hiccup's relationship grew stronger, though she always wore a cloak. The village sometimes sneered, calling her a coward, which Aleda had grown used to. But when Stoick heard about the rumours – which was already well known and spread when he received it – he furiously gathered the entire village, made a speech and established new rules, that if he ever hear another word about his daughter's "cowardice", he would immediately shipped them off to Outcast Island.

Though it stopped the villagers and traders from calling her names, it just made the matter worse for those of the same age as her.

The villagers learnt that Aleda wasn't that bad – she turned out to be a good hunter, and one that trades for a fair price, sometimes even a better trade than any other. Some had asked why she bothered – after all, she was the Chief's daughter – but never received an answer.

Everyone, including the children that were similar to Aleda's age and Hiccup, also learnt not to peek in her hood – most of them learnt the hard way. Except for Hiccup, who was forgiven a day later, because he would always be an exception to her.

Stoick had the constant frustration of his son running around the village and causing troubles, and his daughter running out to dragon raids to do Gods-know-what. Someone suggested apprenticeship – which he thought long and hard about.

So when he walked past the forge and saw his friend Gobber lifting his appendages and was doing a bad job of it, he approached him, helping him at the same time.

"Stoick! What brings you here?" Gobber cheerfully chimed, already moving to pick up the heated iron to forge a sword. Berk was running out of weapons because of the constant dragon raids, and he had to keep up his schedule in order to be prepared for another one.

Never one to speak in circles, Stoick directly asked, "Would you like an apprentice?"

"That would be nice." Gobber replied without hesitation, walking from all over the forge to heat this, sharpen that, repeat…

"Great. I'll talk to Hiccup about this." He walked away from the forge, listened to the sudden silence from his shock, and then smiled when he heard the joyous tone of whistling from inside.

Stoick trekked his way up to Gothi's house, or the healer's hut, and asked the same question. Gothi, much to his surprise, agreed at once when she heard who would be her apprentice. He blinked as he walked out the door, wondering why that old lady had accepted without doubt when she rejected so many others.

He shook his head and let out a small chuckle, Maybe she can see the future.

Like every day, she walked into the woods with familiarity, knowing what exact steps to take and which exact direction to walk to. She expertly jumped over a fallen trunk, the landscape already memorised in her mind.

Nobody really knew why she insisted on a two-hour session of picking herbs every day. She knew that it only took ten to twenty minutes to locate and pick them. So what was she doing for the next hour and a half?

Nobody knew.

Yay, 3000 words! Took up 9 pages on my document.

I hope you enjoyed the rewritten prologue :D Comment on errors and yeah. XD