AN: Hey, guys- look! I'm writing a fic!

This is utterly and shamelessly movie-verse and, as a forewarning, there will be little (if any) slash in the chapters to come. Sorry, but I'm a fan of adventure stories so that's what you're gonna get for this one. :P

This is an introductory chapter so it's rather short… but I promise the plot will thicken! Hazzah!

Disclaimer: Obviously, I own nothing of this wonderful series but would like to thank both Ms Cowell and Dreamworks for bringing it into the world.

And without further ado, I present

The Wild

The sun arose to a morning that was crisp and cool and a northerly wind carried with it the scent of frost and the promise of a particularly cold winter. Already the land was barren and chill- an arctic wasteland nearly lost within the tumultuous sea. Uninhabitable? Mostly. Few tribes had ever attempted to settle this far north and most were lost with their first winter. But somehow, nestled amongst the mountainous crags on the shores of the Isle of Berk, a single village had survived.

-ooo-

Astrid's boots scuffed against the rough cobbled pathway that led to the sheepcote, her hair tied tight in a thick braid that fell heavy against her back. The sky was a blanket of grey clouds, with the exception of a few pockets of sunlight that cascaded like golden threads to the ground below. The village was behind her now and, skipping down a few steps hewn into the hillside, she caught her first glimpse of the pen.

The number of sheep had dwindled significantly within the past month; most had been harvested for their meat, leather, and wool in preparation for the coming winter months. But even in their scarcity the remaining livestock were perfectly capable of concealing the scrawny boy that lay within their midst. His lanky form had the appearance of someone who had grown a great deal in a very short time and his auburn hair fell haphazardly across his forehead. Their was nothing particularly striking about him- with his pale skin and freckled cheeks- save the metal leg he sported. 'A trophy,' his father had unmercifully dubbed it with a hearty grin, though the boy often cared not to think of the particularly traumatic event that had lost him his leg. After all, a freefall that ended in a bath of flame wasn't exactly the stuff one cared to linger on. A year ago he'd gone from the village misfit to a hero, or so they told him. He'd saved Berk from utter destruction and ended a battle that had spanned centuries. They told him he was everything a Viking could ever wish to be. And yet now that he was less a leg he had an even harder time fitting in with his brawny brethren.

But not that this particularly bothered him.

As son of the chief, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had finally proven himself worthy of being his father's next-of-kin- even though this had, in fact, taken over fifteen years- and thus was left to his own devices in peace. Perhaps his leg was something of a blessing because it served as a constant reminder to the villagers of his deed. Never again did they outwardly question his peculiarities. He could even lay with the sheep if had the mind to.

And that's exactly where Astrid found him. Pushing her way through livestock that were far too stubborn for their own good, Astrid finally saw her way to Hiccup, allowing herself a smile that spread to her eyes.

"You know," she began, nudging his body lightly with her foot, "It's considered dangerous to sleep with a bunch of animals that weigh nearly four times what you do." Although she knew that he was no more asleep than she was, she felt it appropriate to jest.

With the fingers of one hand twisted into yellowing grass and the other arm strewn lazily across his eyes, Hiccup felt a reciprocal smile play at his lips. "That's what they tell me," he said and, with a groan, got to his feet. With a great yawn, he stretched luxuriously. "But, you know, there's nothing like the air out here. It's… refreshing." He cracked one of his cheeky lopsided grins at the girl before him.

"If you find this stench refreshing than maybe we need to talk," was her curt response, though she continued to smile all the same. Had she been anyone else Hiccup would have immediately responded that he'd been here before the sheep, thank you very much. But because it was Astrid that stood before him he found that his words caught somewhere in his throat. She was tired, that much he could tell. Dark circles beneath her eyes flawed her strong features and sweat beaded at her brow, despite the cold. A darkening sky roiled behind her and a chill wind whipped at her straw-yellow hair. She was… perfect.

"Hi," he said, a genuine smile alighting his features.

"Hi," she said in response.

He held out his hand for her to take. "Shall we?"

-ooo-

Astrid had spent the afternoon helping the tribe's women prepare for the night's feast and Hiccup found her fire-warmed skin all too welcome after spending the morning in the blustering outdoors. For the last month it seemed as though the entirety of Berk had been in a frenzy over Winternights, a festival that was held in honor of past ancestors and that marked the beginning of the dark half of the year. Even now, on the eve of the Wild Hunt, the preparations did not cease.

"So I'll meet you in the Meade Hall in ten minutes," Hiccup said before he gave Astrid a quick peck on the cheek. Even though they'd been together for nearly a year now, he still felt the familiar warmth of a blush redden his ears at the contact.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So will that be ten regular minutes or ten Hiccup minutes?" Astrid asked, and with a valid point. Hiccup often found that time escaped him.

"Erm.. How about ten Astrid minutes?" he replied uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"O good," she grinned, "You're back."

Hiccup laughed. "I'll see you soon."

"Yes you will," Astrid replied as she hugged him, and, in a blonde flourish, she was gone.

-ooo-

Dodging crowds of villagers who carried everything from barrels of ale to a roast pig, Hiccup made his way to the Dragon Barns, great buildings that had been built and painted to look like the specific dragons they housed. And only tripped once. His feet sunk deep into the mud as he walked and he couldn't help looking over his shoulder at his mismatched footprints. The air was wet and reeked of fish but was at once familiar and welcoming. He'd spent countless hours here at the Barns, training and talking to the giant beasts that had once plagued his village. Sometimes it seemed as though the dragons were the only things in the village that he understood. There was never a hidden agenda with a dragon and they were always happy to see him arrive.

Most people couldn't understand his affinity for the great creatures- or didn't want to. Old habits die hard, the saying goes. And so it was with Berk. Many of Hiccup's fellow villagers still saw the dragons as pests. Others were terrified of having them within the village walls. They were, after all, still wild animals so fear was understandable. But not when it harbored violence.

That was the problem. Word had cropped up that Berk's neighbors to the south saw the domestication of dragons as a threat and were preparing to make the first move. While this thoroughly perplexed Hiccup, Stoick, his father, was confident in the village's strength and assured him that no violence would come of 'rumors spread by the wind.' He wasn't called 'Stoick the Vast' for nothing, after all.

Hiccup sighed. As his father often told him, 'he thought too much', particularly about matters he didn't understand. But before his mind could wander any further, a great black shape was caught in his peripheral vision and he turned just in time to see Toothless bound in his direction.

"H-hey, Bud!" Hiccup laughed as Toothless encircled him, jumping cheerfully. Hiccup was always amazed at how light the Night Fury was on his feet. "How was your hunt?" he asked enthusiastically as he scratched Toothless behind one ear. Hiccup had had a hunch that he'd find Toothless lurking wherever the fish was freshest- which was, of course, there at the Barns.

Most of Berk's dragons lived in the Barns. Toothless, as always, was a rare exception. Since Hiccup had lost his leg, the Night Fury had been nearly stitched to his side and had found a permanent home in the chief's quarters, often to the chagrin of Stoick. This morning, however, had found Toothless on his own, hunting without the hindrance of Hiccup on his back. Although he'd lost his ability to fly on his own long ago, Toothless remained an incredibly agile force and Hiccup liked to grant him some solitude every now and again.

Scratching nimbly under Toothless' chin, Hiccup laughed as the mighty Night Fury collapsed at his feet in a heap of pleasure. Sometimes it seemed that he really was an overgrown housecat.

"Well, you ready to head home, Toothless?" he asked after a few moments of sitting with the dragon, only to be answered with an inquisitive green stare. "Don't think we've left you out of the festivities, either, bud," he began, patting Toothless' side. "I've got some fresh salmon with your name on i-" But before Hiccup could finish his sentence, Toothless was bounding out of the barn wearing what Hiccup imagined was his version of a grin.

As Hiccup limped to his feet, Toothless poked a head back into the wooden Barn, eliciting a snort from his rider. "Yea, yea, I'm coming," Hiccup answered with a chuckle as he got to his feet. His impatient lizard would just have to wait seeing as 'slow' was general the only speed he had these days. And though he highly doubted that Toothless understood the meaning of 'salmon', he reckoned it was something to get excited about. The finer fish was mainly reserved for the villagers but seeing as Toothless had become part of the family, Hiccup had decided to ransack some for his be-scaled friend amidst the preparations.

Letting his thoughts wander, it was not until she was standing in front of him that Hiccup noticed her. The village Elder, Gothi, the very woman who had chosen him as the most promising young dragon slayer nearly a year ago was now blocking his path, a gnarled hand outstretched in greeting. "Uhm… hello, Gothi," Hiccup said, waving slightly and grinning awkwardly.

It was said that long ago Gothi had sat upon a barrow-mound for the duration of Winternights and gained the divinatory gifts she had become so famous for. Though Hiccup was a silent skeptic, he had always paid her his respect. After all, had she not chosen him to slay the Monstrous Nightmare when he'd completed dragon training, the war between Berk and the dragons may never had come to an end.

Though that didn't stop her from making him incredibly uncomfortable. For what seemed like minutes she merely stared at him, raising the hairs on his neck in the process. Hiccup could almost see the time slipping away from him and rubbed his arms with nervous tension.

But just as he was about to ask her pardon and continue with his business, she spoke.

"Destiny," Gothi said simply, though it was not at all what Hiccup expected to hear. Her withered lips twisted into a smile as she watched the word take its toll on him. He merely stood, rooted in place by an unseen force as he contemplated what she had meant. It was just a word, wasn't it? So why did it feel as though she'd doused him in cold water? Watching the old woman hobble away and be swallowed by the crowds felt as though the world had started moving again. Sounds and smells hit him anew at full-force and as Hiccup followed her into the swarm of villagers he couldn't shake the feeling that she knew something he didn't… and it bothered him immensely. Perhaps this was why she'd been deemed the village prophet.

Tucking his latest experience with Gothi in the back of his mind, Hiccup walked as quickly as his leg allowed toward his own home, directing his mind to more pressing matters. He really had no time to ponder the musings of an old woman- if he was late Astrid would kill him.

AN: Whew! That took a lot longer than I expected! Onwards, to chapter two!