How to Train Your Dragon is not the Property of me, however I love it very much. I do believe it is the property of DreamWorks' Animations. That being said, here we go!

Unto The New Dawn

Chapter 1

Life on Berk was nothing short of difficult. The winters were long and harsh, the summers sweet, but too short. The pork would be frozen for at least four months restricting ships from bringing in trade from other tribes as well as preventing fishermen from doing their jobs. That meant that during the most bitter and deadliest time of the year there was only one source of food livestock and agriculture; and here on the island of Berk, that singular source of food was constantly contested over.

After all, the Archipelago of Misery was home to many different islands with Viking clans of their own, and while the clans mostly kept to themselves, there was a singular problem that seemed to fight them almost every moment of the year. The problem wasn't rats, or bugs, or any other type of vermin. No, that would be far too easy; the problem that these stubborn Vikings fast was much more complicated than that. They had to contend with…

"Dragons!" a Viking yelled from atop one of the four watchtowers surrounding the large village. He then used one of his massive muscular arms to ring the large brass bell in the tower to alert the rest of the village to the oncoming raid. Out from the hundreds of houses ran Vikings, both men and women. The muscular peoples' known to all from any other tribe were the Vikings of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. Proud, fierce, and terribly stubborn, the Hooligans had been fighting the dragons for nearly three centuries. Yet in all those years of fighting, in all those years of death and loss, no one had thought to try and figure out why the dragons were constantly raiding the village's food supplies. No one had thought to try and wonder why natural predators who survived mostly on water and fish needed to take food from a Viking village out in the middle of nowhere.

The Vikings rushed out of their wooden homes to the defense of their village and its stores of food. The herds were being gathered from the grazing fields into the Storm Keep located in the stone Cliffside alongside the village. From there the dragon fire wouldn't harm the animals, nor would they be able to fly off with them. Most of the crops had been stored there for when the great freeze of winter would hit. Most of the Vikings were clad in iron breastplates and iron helmets, armed with hammers, axes, or swords. There were few proficient with a bow as it was thought to be a less honorable weapon for a Viking, but those that had them, were deadly accurate.

From the highest hill in the village, from one of the only buildings made of stone, came a man, massive in size covered in muscle. He had striking emerald eyes and a long flowing auburn beard braided many times over. His scale armor had a massive breastplate and heavy engraved pauldrons, His thick fur cloak hung, un phased by the wind's pull. On his arms rested spiked leather gauntlets, a large battle-axe in his hand. As he exited his home he could see the dragons off in the far distance. There were easily over a hundred or two. From the looks of it, he could see that the raiders were mostly Nadders and Gronkles with a Zippleback and Nightmare here and there.

The Gronkles, known for their heavy and piggish bodies had hides tougher than rocks. But they were stupid and slow. They could only fire six blasts of fire before they need to rest and eat before firing again. They were not to be taken lightly however, as the rock-like hide could deflect all but the most powerful of attacks. Therefore the best way to take them down was to surround it and confuse the dragon until it became to disorientated to fly, then it was a simple matter of killing it from its underbelly where the scales were much thinner.

The Deadly Nadders were another force to be reckoned with entirely. Nadders were quick and agile, capable of shooting poisonous spikes from their spines and tails at will. In addition to that the bird like dragons also had the hottest fire of any known dragon. A Nadder's fire could melt an iron shield in a matter of seconds. The safest way to take down a Nadder was to wait for its fire to run dry and to either kill it from a distance without being seen, or to rush it just after it launched its spikes.

The Hideous Zipplebacks were twin headed dragons that preferred stealth and used its poisonous gas to incapacitate its foes before igniting the gas and causing a devastating explosion. One head supplied the gas, the other ignited, simple as that. The main problem was that the dragon had two independent heads, each with its own set of eyes. It was difficult to get the surprise on a Zippleback. Thus the best way to take it down was to determine which head supplied the spark to ignite the gas and kill it first, and then the rest of the job was easy.

The Monstrous Nightmare, its name was well earned. The dragon was large, strong, and had no fears and no qualms about killing. The only thing that made it worse was that it could light its entire body on fire, making fighting it very difficult. While ablaze the dragon could only be put out by drenching it with water or by the dragon itself. The Nightmares could take out groups of Vikings all by themselves, but fortunately they were far less common than either Gronkles or Nadders. Only the strongest and the bravest of Vikings went after the Monstrous Nightmares.

"Stoick!" a voice shouted breaking the bearded man of his thoughts. He looked down to see his younger brother Spitelout, a man with a similar, if slightly smaller, build than his with brown eyes and black hair. He wore a leather tunic with a thicker chest plate. He carried a sword rather than an axe. Running down to meet his brother they both turned towards the village square where Stoick would command the defense of Berk, he was after all Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe.

"Most of the men have already fallen into their standard defense groups, while others are helping with the remaining flocks of sheep," Spitelout briefed as they ran, passing Vikings along the way.

"Good. Light the torches, it's almost nightfall!" Stoick bellowed out. Large pyre pillars were raised into the air. They allowed the Vikings, more specifically the few archers, a light source to see in the darkness of the night. "What have we got?" Stoic asked as more Vikings came up behind him, ready to follow him to the death.

"We've got Gronkles, Nadders, and a few Zipplebacks, the usual. Oh, and Horst swears he saw another Nightmare," one man answered. Stoick released a breath of relief. No Nightfury's; that was a relief.

"Ok, but I shot down a Nightfury," Stoick remembered his son saying during the last raid as if trying to justify just how much damage he had caused. Stoick would have been more inclined to have believed the small boy, if only he didn't have a taste for theatrics and spent more of his time training to fight rather than be, himself. Stoick loved his son, but Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had this nasty habit of trying too hard to be something he wasn't, and it usually led to more harm than good. The boy was brilliant, of that there was no doubt, and half of the crazy ideas he had come up with were revolutionary, such as the windmill that helped churning the wheat they grew into flour to be used to bake bread.

In Hiccup, Stoick saw the potential to be a great chief, but the boy would have to realize that he just wasn't meant to fight. So Stoick had long ago made a deal with his late wife's best friend's husband. By marrying his son to a true Viking woman, he was sure there would be no trouble between the two of them in leading the village. Even better, the two were very close friends, or at least they had been when they were little. Over the years the two of them had drifted apart so the parents decided to keep the contract a secret until they were both of marrying age. But then he had returned from his most recent failed attempt at finding the dragon's nest, when he came back to find out that his son, his son had gone from the town hiccup to placing first in dragon-training. Stoick couldn't believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. The boy took down a Gronkle with nothing but his bare hands; and he couldn't have been more proud.

Stoick then saw his own best friend hobbling towards him carrying a cart full of weapons, spares for in case someone lost theirs or it was broken. Gobber the Belch the village blacksmith, even while missing half of his limbs, was a force to be reckoned with. He was fierce and brave, and on top of that had a habit of thinking outside the box, seeing things Stoick didn't at a first glance. He was also the man Stoick had placed in charge of Hiccup's safety when he himself wasn't around. They had been best friends since they were toddlers and often Stoick would talk to Gobber to release his own frustrations or try to brainstorm ideas to help with the village. It was in fact; through Gobber that Stoick had seen his son's brilliance. The Blacksmith had trained Hiccup in the arts of metal crafting and while the entire village could testify to the horrors that it has brought, they would all say that he has a knack for making simple weapons. Hiccup's weapons rarely dulled and were nigh-impossible to break. Not to mention his non-dragon-fighting creations were a boon to the village. "Gobber, have you seen Hiccup?" Stoick asked his best friend.

"No, not since train'in earlier today, why?" Gobber asked. "He may not have finished train'in yet, but if it comes down to it, we could use'em out here Stoick," he added quickly. "Or not," he muttered when Stoick glared at him and continued on Gobber shrugged his shoulders and continued on, shouting for everyone who didn't have a weapon to get one. The dragons were coming.

It was well after sundown when they landed. The black dragon silently glided into the cover of the cove, the place where their covenant began. The dragon's large green eyes roamed about while it slumped along the ground before coming to a standstill so its riders could dismount. First came a boy, thin but lanky with messy auburn hair, covered in a green tunic and a fur vest. Within the vest he held his dagger, the first weapon he had forged on his own, compete with his initials, and his sketch book. His emerald eyes were burdened with heavy thoughts, especially with the recent developments and upcoming challenges.

Next came a girl with braided blond hair and striking sapphire eyes. She wore a turquoise tunic with matching leggings under her spiked skirt. Her small shoulder guards reflecting the moon's light. She had an axe clipped to the back of her belt for safe keeping. "I'm telling you, it all makes sense, it's like they're the workers and it's the queen!" she said sure of mind. The boy was still lost in his thoughts as he turned to nuzzle the dragon who purred contentedly. "Hiccup," she said getting the boy's attention. "What are you going to do? You have to kill a dragon tomorrow," she said sympathetically. He almost couldn't believe it. Astrid Hofferson, sympathetic for a dragon, world sure was full of surprises.

"I-I don't know Astrid," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders when he realized she was waiting for an answer.

"We have to tell your dad, Hiccup, this changes everything," she said again.

"What!? No! We can't, he'll kill Toothless," Hiccup said motioning towards the black dragon that had curled up behind him, watching with its curious, analyzing eyes. Toothless was the only one who truly understood him, the only other one who knew he it felt to be an outcast among others. There was no way he'd put the dragon in danger.

"You'll keep the nest a secret, just to protect your pet dragon?" Astrid asked confused and slightly angry. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and when he re-opened them there was such resolve behind them. She couldn't even begin to fathom the courage that he had. And once again it scared her just how much the boy that used to be her best friend as a little girl had actually grown up, grown up after she had practically abandoned him on the cusp of their teen years for the sake of her own pride. It stung her more than anything she'd felt before.

"Yes, I will," Hiccup replied. His expression softened. "Just, give me some time. I'll think of something." He turned around again, placing his hand upon the dragon's head, both of them closing their eyes at the touch. The trust and friendship that the two had, the same one she had practically thrown away when his awkwardness began to show…

She wondered if perhaps they could have been like that too before she let her own fear, and pride cloud her judgment. "Ok," she said more to herself than to him. "Ok," she repeated a little more resolute before walking up to him. Without warning she slugged him on the shoulder, his flinching immediately disrupted the peace between the dragon and it's rider. "That's for kidnapping me," she said with a light scowl on her face.

As the boy quickly turned to share a confused look between the dragon and himself Astrid pulled herself closer to him before quickly kissing his cheek. "That's, for everything else," she quickly and quietly added, just loud enough for him to hear before turning and running back to the village. 'And for everything that I regret,' she mentally added.

"Toothless, what should I do?" Hiccup asked the dragon. The beast lifted one of its large bat-like wings to give its rider somewhere to rest before enveloping him with it. "I know I can't kill a dragon, but with the entire village watching, what am I going to do?"

"Well," Toothless started, his thoughts reaching the auburn haired boy through the powerful bond that they had formed over the past few months. "Is it possible to show that dragons and Vikings can live in peace?" he asked. Hiccup knew where this thought was going.

"I'd love to try, but you've seen my dad, well through my memories at least. You know that he'd happily kill first, think never," Hiccup replied as he laid his head against the dragon's belly. The warmth of the dragon's belly seeped through his thin body washing away the beginning of winter's frigid cold.

"True," Toothless agreed; "But what about the others? Are there any among the rest of the village who might sue for peace?"

"I don't know bud; Berk has lost a lot to the raids, to that monstrous dragon. That thing is like the embodiment of death itself," Hiccup sighed. "I know there won't be peace until that thing is gone, but getting rid of it won't be easy, it's massive; and don't get me wrong, but a single Nightfury probably can't take that thing down on its own."

"Who says I'd be alone?" the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself remarked, Hiccup could feel sarcasm trying to cover the fear. "What about the girl?"

"Astrid?" Hiccup asked, taken aback. "We can't involve her in this."

"She's already involved," the Nightfury rebuked. "Whether you want her to be or not, the fact remains, she saw, she knows." He felt Hiccup slump against him. "It's at least worth a shot right? After all, here we are; Hiccup the Useless, downing the unstoppable unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, know laying in the middle of a cove, hidden from the rest of the world trying to bring peace to two opposing sides for the first time in three centuries."

"Yeah, you're right, it's worth a shot. But we need an escape plan in case things go awry," Hiccup agreed, rising himself from his seat against the dragon. Toothless let him up. "Then again, with me, things always go awry anyway so I suppose a backup-backup plan should be good too." The dragon couldn't help but chuckle at him. While Hiccup's brain raced to examine every possible situation that could occur. They would be ready, and if the Vikings couldn't be persuaded, then they'd deal with it on their own.


The moon was high among the stars when Stoick heard the creaking of the door opening. He rose from his chair by the fire and turned to face his son, who was covered in dirt and grime. "Hiccup? Where in Thor have you been?" he asked trying to keep his voice down. His shouting was loud, and he didn't wish to wake his fellow villagers, especially after the hard fought battle earlier that day.

"I was, uh, training!" he lied on the spot hoping his father would buy it. Mentally Hiccup sighed with relief when his father nodded.

"Getting nervous about the big day tomorrow?" Stoick asked, eyes lighting with pride as the edges of his beard tugged upwards.

"You have no idea," Hiccup responded. Stoick nodded and sat back down. Hiccup stood there for a few more moments. "Hey dad," he started. The chieftain turned and faced his son again. "Why do we fight the dragons?" he asked.

Stoick looked at him as if it were the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "Hiccup-," he started.

"No, I mean, yeah they raid our food, but why? Why do we keep on fighting?" the small boy interrupted. Stoick stood there, thoughtful for a moment, in over three hundred years of fighting virtually no one had asked that before, save Hiccup and his mother, Valka. While Hiccup rose a good point, the memory of his late wife always brought out a fury in Stoick few had ever seen. He'd loved that woman with everything he'd had, then, just like that; the dragons had carried her off one night.

"Is there any hope for peace to exist?" Hiccup's thoughts broke him of his train of thought, before the notion brought out that pained fury.

"Peace?" Stoick hissed. "Hiccup, do you even know what you're saying? How can there be peace?" Stoick's gaze burned into Hiccup, but his son stood defiant against him. "The dragons have killed countless Vikings over the years and you're thinking about peace?"

Hiccup balled his fists against Stoick's fury but kept his mouth shut. "Hiccup," Stoick started after taking a breath. "Dragon's took Valka, took your mother when you were a baby, how could I ever believe in peace?"

"Dad," Hiccup said, finding his voice. "You once told me that a chief's duty is to his people." Looking right into the gigantic man's eyes, Hiccup didn't quite know where his newfound confidence came from, but he most certainly hoped that the new wellspring would not run dry. "That a chief must be able to set aside their own emotions to make the best decision for the sake of the village," he continued. Stoick's eyes narrowed.

"What are you getting at son?" Stoick asked. Of course he remembered those words. He had spoken them to Hiccup on the boy's fifteenth name day, when he decided to start teaching Hiccup how to be a successful heir to Berk. "Aye, a chief protects his own," Stoick responded. "Especially from dragons," he added as he turned back towards the hearth.

"Yes, but for how much long do we need to keep fighting before we lose?" Hiccup asked. Stoick stood straighter and turned back to the boy. "Dad, for three centuries, we've been fighting them, with no end in sight. Sooner or later, Berk won't be able to sustain us anymore; the raids will eventually bleed this island dry. What then?"

Stoick stood silent. Such had been a deep fear of his, as well as his father before him. It was part of why he was so determined to find the dragon's nest and drive the devils out. "Hiccup," Stoick started again.

"Is it too much to consider, making peace with the dragons to prevent that from happening, before it's too late?" Hiccup interrupted. "All we have to do is figure out why they attack us, and then fix it." Hiccup tried to reason.

"That's all well and good son," Stoick started. "Only, we can't speak with them; we can't reason with them; and we can't find them. We still can't find the nest." The mocking tone in his voice let Hiccup know that everything he'd just told his father most likely went in one ear and out the other.

The boy sighed in defeat. Stoick walked over towards him and placed his hands on his son's shoulders, careful not to shove the boy. "Son, go and get some rest, you've got a big day tomorrow," and with that Stoick sent Hiccup to his room.

Once the door was closed behind him, Hiccup took what felt like a last look at his room. His small desk in the corner near the window was littered with books filled with sketches. Sketches of people, of projects, and of scenery he'd seen. Also on the desk rested some basic tools used for carving wood and chipping stone. Across from the desk stood his bed, nestled in between the support beams of the second floor of the house. Although small by Viking standards, it fit him rather well. Not too far from the bed rested another hearth, much smaller than the one downstairs, with a pot hung over it. The pot could be used to heat bath water, or for brewing remedial teas. Off in the far corner rested half of a large wooden barrel that he'd bathe in. While most Viking men cared little for personal hygiene Hiccup had figured that he was frail enough as it was and didn't want to catch some horrible disease. Thus he made sure he bathed regularly.

After hearing the unmistakable sound of his father falling onto his bed down below, Hiccup grabbed an empty basket from next to his bed. He emptied its contents ad began to stuff it full of spare clothes and tools. He walked over to his desk and grabbed one of his empty sketch books and packed it away as well. Once packed he fitted the straps over his shoulder and climbed out of his window as he'd don't countless times before with practiced expertise and complete silence.

"Ok Toothless," he called mentally. Waiting for the reply, Hiccup made sure there were no extra patrols out that night before silently making his way to the forge, glad to see no lights within.

"So he wouldn't be convinced?" the reply from the black dragon resonated through his head. An uneasy silence from the both of them told the answer for him. The feeling in the back of his mind told Hiccup that the Nightfury was making his way towards him as they'd planed in case Stoick wouldn't see reason. "Is the coast clear?"

"Yeah bud, the coast is clear," Hiccup said as he opened the large doors to the forge, being extra careful to make sure it made as little noise as possible. The forge, like his own house was made of stone, probably the only way the building could have possibly survived for so long. The only other building that could boast such fortitude was the Great Hall. Once he had the doors opened a black blur raced passed him inside. The dragon's large green eyes looked at the boy sympathetically. "Now then, down to business," Hiccup said as he quickly lit the forge to give them some light. He preferred their mental link at the moment; it gave him a sense of comfort to be connected to the dragon, not to mention it was far quieter.

Hiccup turned to the black dragon that patiently waited in the forge. Disconnection the artificial tailfin, Hiccup pulled the leather off and examined the metal exoskeleton for a moment. "If we're going to fight that thing by ourselves, we can't have your tail catch on fire," he told the dragon.

"Agreed, it would do us no good for me to get shot down again," Toothless remarked.

"At least I apologized and set you free," Hiccup played along, easing his stress. "Any suggestions?"

"Metal is resistant, but too heavy. It'll be hard to control, but it won't burn," Toothless thought. "But whereas leather is light and easy to work with it can burn."

"I suppose metal it is then, at least till the fight is over, then we can switch it back," Hiccup whispered aloud as he gathered some old swords to be melted down.

"I could melt those in an instant," the dragon suggested.

"And wake up the entire village in the process," Hiccup added. "No thanks. This won't take too long, I already made most of the pieces a while ago when I was first building your tail, go ahead and wait in back and I'll be done before you know it."

Toothless grunted in acknowledgement and slithered into the back room that had served as Hiccup's personal workshop over the years. While he was in there he glanced at the many sketches of himself as well as the many different designs and blueprints for the artificial tailfin that he could no longer fly without. One would think that being crippled by a Viking would cause a deep resentment for them, but as he bonded with Hiccup, drifting through his many memories, he realized that they too, were not quite as evil as he had first believed.

That however, did not excuse the suffering they had put his rider through over the years. To Toothless, such actions were inexcusable. The physical and mental abuse that Hiccup had been put through, simply for trying to fit in, to be accepted stung Toothless more than the loss of his left tailfin did. He remembered the blond female from the cove, the same one that his rider had depended on as a boy, and how she just seemed to toss him aside when he had needed her most. That was the true reason why the Nightfury had tried to attack her, for he knew Hiccup never would, so he had to for him.

Just outside the room the Nightfury could hear the steady quiet beating of hammer to metal. The smell of embers and metal filled his senses as the pounding reverberated within the stone building, lulling the dragon into a peaceful daze before he fell asleep.


Toothless didn't know how long he was resting, perhaps just an hour or two based on the movement of the moon. The re-modeled tailfin wasn't as cumbersome as he had expected. Hiccup did well with this one; the fin was constructed out of very thin sheets of metal, and was able to fold in on itself thanks to the rotating spokes. If it came down to a fight, he knew the tail wouldn't be much of a hindrance, if any, but he preferred the leather one because it felt more natural.

Now the two of them continued their silent trek towards the arena where the teenagers had been training to fight dragons. The giant metal cage was located on a separate column of rock than the rest of the village, connected only by a narrow bridge formed over time by the vast ocean's storms. The top of the cage was covered by interwoven chains and metal bracers making the gaps too small for all but the tiniest dragons to escape. The walls were lined with all sorts of dragon killing equipment, from shields to weapons. All looked poorly maintained.

The ground was damp from all of the water that the tides probably brought. Hiccup was immensely glad that the patrolling guards didn't bother to extend their routes over to the arena that night. It was good fortune for them, but they moved as silently as they could never the less.

After opening the metal cage door, the two of them slipped into the arena. Once inside Hiccup fastened all of the belongings he decided to bring into the sacks he had built into Toothless's saddle. "Toothless, do you trust me bud?" Hiccup asked him. The dragon looked at him; he knew what the plan would be, but answered regardless.

"Of course I do," the dragon replied. The rider's posture eased up considerably. He knew Hiccup needed the boost in confidence, but that did not mean that the words were any less true. He and the boy had formed a bond within the confines of the cove. They were one mind, one heart, two bodies. They were brothers now. Hiccup nodded before turning to the first cage, the Nadder's cage.

"Well, here goes nothing then," Hiccup said as he turned the crank to lift the massive log that held the doors shut. Toothless stood ready just in case the dragon chose to attack.


For this story, I'm making a few minor (maybe not so much) changes:

First: Hiccup is brilliant (yes he is in the actual, but in this he plans a bit more). He analyzes all of the possible outcomes that he can imagine for any decision that he makes that involves others besides him. He is also brave (not that approaching a Nightfury unharmed is cowardly,) but is willing to risk everything he has if it meant keeping his village and those in it safe. Even if it means losing his place in it.

Second: Hiccup and Astrid. They are engaged, although neither of them or the rest of the teens in their age group know it. In fact, no one besides their parents knows. Also, I've seen others build off of this, but I'm going to list it here just in case. The two had at one time been best friends, and deep down, Hiccup still is Astrid's best friend. While she knows that she shouldn't have decided to toss that friendship aside and treat him as if he didn't exist, she was afraid she'd get ridiculed if she didn't. She's a teenaged girl, and like all other human beings she makes bad decisions and while she tries not to show it she can be self-conscious about herself just as anyone else can. She can strive to be the perfect Viking, but she's still human and has weaknesses just like everyone else.

Third: Stoick and the villagers for the most part do acknowledge Hiccup and recognize that he would become a proper chief in time, but they'd just wish he'd stop trying to help kill dragons; it's just not his calling. Most of the adults don't openly insult the boy but rather try to use the good old fashion harsh and brutal Viking way to get their points across, but Hiccup doesn't know that. The teens (mostly Snot, Tuff and Ruff) take that the wrong way and actively bully Hiccup, thinking its ok.

Fourth: Most importantly, the bond between Hiccup and Toothless. I am borrowing a bit from Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Series because the bond between Eragon and Saphira is beautiful and strong and I can't help but think of it being the same between Hiccup and his Nightfury (And because I love his series). There will be no magic though, or symbols burned into his skin though, But telecommunication and sensing each other's presence and emotions will definitely be in the works here.

So, thus begins Unto the New Dawn, a How to Train Your Dragon story inspired by watching Httyd 1 and 2. So please leave your comments and questions for me, I'll try my best to get back to you on them as well as update as regularly as I am able, so until next time!

~Knownobody