How to Train Your Dragon

by MysteriousIvy16

While this Idea is outdated, been done already, I wanted to try it out. This is Hiccup’s POV from the movie. Feedback, but not flames, is appreciated.

1. Chapter 1: This is Berk

(Hiccup's POV)

This.. is Berk.

It's 12 days North of Hopeless and a few degrees South of Freezing to Death..

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery..

It's my village. In a word—sturdy. Seven generations it's been present in this world, and every structure of wood is new, just a little more improved in my people's opinion. When will they realize that the pests that drop by unannounced will just destroy our houses? It's wood.. pretty hard for it to still be standing. My village is sturdy because even with the buildings such as the Great Hall, that have put themselves down and yield to the ferocious strength of the obstinate flames, it always finds a way back up again.

What else could I tell you? Oh, yea. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets. Sunrises don't compete with the sunsets because,

I mean, come on.. it's just the sun rising and setting. But the pests I mentioned not so long ago have decided to show themselves once again, and usually it's one of those animals that can be quite annoying but you know how to get rid of and make a bigger deal out of it then what it really seems, I'm talking about mice and mosquitoes here. But we don't have those, no not even close.

Opening the door, I take a peek outside, and sure enough, there it is. Its body was illuminated by the soft glowing moon, but possessed a tangerine glow

on its skin that was steadily growing around it, and it was taking its role by rounding on the sheep, before it suddenly looked me in the eye, even with the darkness enveloping my homeland, I can see the slitted golden irises narrow, it sees me as a threat, and won't hesitate to bring me down.

It brings its head back, takes a mighty breath and unleashes an eruption of fire power. It explodes out of its huge mouth and rushes towards the door, towards me.

My reflexes are usually terrible, but they saved me this time. I acted instinctively and slammed the door with all my meager strength, and managed to keep it from collapsing on top of me, and my hands were inches away from getting burned, we don't need my fingers coming off, thanks.

So while other villages have little nuisances, we have...dragons.

Most people would leave, not us. We're Vikings, we have stubbornness issues. We stick with a goal, we won't leave until it's finished. Or even if something's complete, our stubborn attitude can tell you that we're not done until our mind's made up.

I'm already out of the house, which is getting engulfed in fire as we speak, nothing new there, the wood's crying out, creaking as the flames are ripping out its inanimate life, the house threatening to give out, its already lost the battle it couldn't win, and I'm watching the chaos unfold around me.

Vikings were pounding their weapons on the dragon's faces, they were set on the creature's head because of their determination of murdering them, never once backing down, a few might even get murdered themselves by falling off the dragon, and as hefty as they are, they could still have their breath permanently taken away from them, but I don't want my village to be killed, it's the dragons that are in for it.

Others were wrestling with the fire breathing creatures to take back the many wandering sheep that rightfully belongs to the village, but the dragons thought otherwise and let loose the fire that makes them the powerful creatures they are. The Vikings that were perched on top of the dragons were flung off and plummeted to the grass, but it will take a lot more than a fall to keep us from submission, from letting our enemies win, we just get right back up again.

The crackling of the fire increases in sound from behind me, and the door that was once on its hinges, once standing unharmed, blows up to splinters of wood, and the fire's devouring it. Piece by piece.

My name's Hiccup. Great name, huh? Certainly not the best out there, but it's not the worst.

Abruptly, a body drops from the sky and almost crushes my small frame, but my reflexes seem to be

on my side today, so I side stepped him. An exploding sound occurs and I look to see one house that has been defeated easily by the power of the dragon's fire, and the flames are transferring to more recently made houses. Shortly after the body, comes the axe. Which gets embedded into the grass, and almost into my foot.

The Viking that appeared as if he wouldn't get up any time soon, snapped back into consciousness, yanked his axe out of the ground and ran away, not even noticing me. But that's not even on my list of concerns, so I just easily let it pass.

I duck under a hulking log that three Vikings were carrying, one of them noticing me with a scowl on his face, glaring eyes demanding as to why I'm here. I think he should know the answer to that.

I'm here to kill a dragon. I'm here to be one of you guys.

I was steadily taking one step at a time back, watching the nothing new routine of fighting against our enemy, the fire glowing in the darkness and lighting up the destruction that has presented itself, the same old method of kill or be killed, until I felt myself losing my balance by the force of a stranger running into me, and with the way my body was made, it doesn't take much for me to get literally pushed around.

It throws me off, but I'm still standing.. spoke too soon. Another explosion resounds, and I'm witnessing it. It shot out of the mouth known as the Gronckle, and the force, the strength of the blazing blast, sends me reeling to the ground, back slamming onto scorched blades of grass, and face set in a grimace as some of my oxygen gets knocked out, and I'm gasping, only momentarily.

Just when I get my breathing back to normal, a Viking, a male one, runs towards me and screams a battle cry inches from my face. That's kinda crazy, he's crazy. He even has this unhinged look in his eyes as he stares me down..he even has an axe with him! I widen my eyes in a rather alarmed manner, but then roll my eyes as his hot breath hits my face as he gives three short gasps, like panting, before his whole demeanor shifts into a lighthearted smile as he pleasantly greets me a, "Morning!"

I look after him for a little bit of time, give or take a few seconds, and get myself together. No time to think about my people's strange mannerisms when there's dragons present, when there's a goal I need to achieve.

I pick myself up and run my way to the parts of the village that I haven't seen get devoured by the savage flames that spurt out damage. The sky was burning alive with the fire illuminating the gaps of vast darkness, more of my people preparing to take charge, readying their weapons and running away from their homes, toward the prize that they're after, the dragons.

While the Vikings were rushing by, one female ordered I get inside, two males demanded as to why I'm out here. All were incredulous as my presence rushed by their eyesight, they couldn't believe I was out here again.

Do I really need to explain it all of you?! I'm here to bring an end to one of these creature's lives, just like what you're doing. So don't go saying, 'Get back inside!' when there's work to be finished.

I was reaching towards the conclusion of the grassy hill, but that only leads to the great stone steps of the Great Hall, but I'm not going there. I'm going to the place where my job has lied, that's where I'm needed, the first step.

Or at least I tried to. I couldn't get no more than a few steps before a large hand grabbed the back of my tunic, effortlessly picking me up, and delaying, postponing my chances to use the machine, my invention, to kill a dragon, the dragon that nobody has ever killed before.

"What is he doing out here?!"

I recognize that voice immediately. It's the head of our tribe, the man every Viking looks up to: the chief.

What a perfect thing to experience— being held up easily with one hand by a Viking who happens to be the leader of the village, and having to face the fact that he's angry with you. Hurray for me... that deserves an enthusiastic thumbs up.

I could feel my figure jerk as he literally shakes me around like some toy he can't stand having, but that's not the case. I feel my face heat up a little in embarrassment, in chagrin, and he brings me closer to him, demanding as to why I'm out here, like the

other Vikings, but I just stare at him in discomfiture before he lets me out of his vice like grip and orders me to get inside.

Not like I want to stay put as he holds me for anyone to witness us, so I comply. I have to get inside anyway to get my latest invention to get that dragon. I'm a Viking, I've been passed down the lucky trait of stubbornness, and I'm using it for a purpose, to prove I'm useful, not useless.

I'm running out even quicker then just a few minutes ago. I can see my workplace, I've had that responsibility there as long as I could remember. I could feel the excitement begin to surface, an emotion that's usually foreign to me when I enter that place, and I take a glance back over at our chief.

His name is Stoick the Vast. Rumors suggest that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off its shoulders.

Do I believe they're rumors? No.

Do I believe it's the truth? Yes, I do.

As if to prove his worth, he snatches a wooden cart that actually has a purpose to be there, to wheel out killing supplies for us to 'take out' the dragons, and another Gronckle coincidentally happens to be nearby, and it gets knocked out with the wood—one piece got penetrated in its eye.. I could just imagine the blood that was leaking out, but it's a victory for the chief and for us.

A downed dragon is a dead dragon.

A far but audible cry demands, "Hoist the torches!"

Three gigantic torches of ours, crafted with a narrow pole like body, but a circular ample head burns incandescent flames, to ward off the dragons, but they aren't complying, just flying around in the semi darkness of the boundless sky, the first cracks of dawn are beginning to rise, but I still have a chance to get the dragon I'm after. Still have an opportunity that could change my people's opinion on me, that could make them accept me as one of their own.

I sprint myself into the workshop, and almost collide with the assortment of weapons. Nothing better than working as some blacksmith junior, am I right?

I naturally grab the filthy apron that's been stuck with me since the beginning, it's a hand me down of my own attire, and get to work.

"Oh, nice of you to join the party! I thought you'd been carried off!"

I scoff in amusement, roll my eyes in the same manner, and look at the Viking reworking on a blade, it's metal glinting, it's point serrated and sharp, with an oversized hammer pounding on the red hot center, signifying it as new. The heat is used for reshaping the weapon, and lift up a hammer that has been discarded, abandoned on a table, with what little strength I have going on.

"Who me?" I question in false offense, shaking my head at the blacksmith, "Come on.. I'm way too muscular for their taste"

"They wouldn't know what to do with.. all this"

You hear that? That's the sound of cockiness, even if it's fake. I even lifted a skinny arm and flexed to show off all that, to display all the raw Vikingness that just has to show itself once in awhile.

"Well they need toothpicks, don't they?"

Yes, that's exactly what they need. I shake my head while mocking laughter, it's all part of the sarcasm business.

The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little, well...littler.

I head on towards the window, little wooden doors attached and pushed aside, as I deal with 2 restless

malecustomers, with three different weapons pushed in my arms: one axe head ripped off, one regular sword bent, and one long sword in need of a sharpening. I guess that's two replacements and one repairment, obviously.

All 3 Vikings were in no mood for waiting, they had a job to do, and frankly so did I. But I have to be the apprentice first, then I could work on my new invention that has been manufactured a few weeks ago but never managed to find its target. All the times I tried to hit that dragon were unsuccessful, and my people expected that it wouldn't work.

They'll never expect what's coming tonight, that's for sure. It's about time the village screw up didn't make another mistake.

I hastily place the defective sword and axe to hang alongside other weapons in need of repair, place the

long sword into the burning coal, and grab revisions of the sword and axe, reconstructed and more improvised than the last creation.

Fortunately, there were still the three Vikings impatiently remaining, needing their weapons at once, and they kept glancing back over to where the action was, where they're headed and needed.

Once that's out of the way, I was about to head back, but something caught my eye, a distraction,

and looking closer, one of the people that was dousing the burning houses was definitely distracting to me, and never in a bad way.

Five familiar people, the group that I never seemingly fit in with, helped out by using their water filled buckets to put out the searing fire.

The first guy running away to get more water was Snotlout, my cousin and a tormentor of mine. He's not the only one who likes to mock me, there was a guy who was genetically similar to his sister, her name's Ruffnut, and the other twin is Tuffnut.. and those two never stop fighting with each other.

They used physical force endlessly, and always fought like rabid animals. They seemed to be fighting over a bucket, their faces twisted in scowls.

(I could just tell one of them will get a whack to the head with that bucket.)

The largest one in the group was Fishlegs. He's one of the nicer guys, has great intelligence over dragons, but as a habit of spouting facts about them. It could get irritating.

There was one person I was really looking at. Time seemed to slow down for me, as I watched her use the last bit of water to get rid of some fire, and a Deadly Nadder ruined her perfect shot, adding more

fire to the fire, that could've been extinguished.. but she looked amazing just by walking, unintentionally bringing a dorky smile to my lips, and my eyes were staring capitivated at her.. Astrid, that was her name.

Oh their job is so much cooler..

I wouldn't count being a blacksmith apprentice pleasurable, not even preferable. I never really had a choice with this job, it just stuck with me for my life's majority.

But that doesn't mean I don't go looking for other things, for a possibility that my life could get infinitely better. While I'm getting better, but not exceptional in inventions, my village would like to disagree and nonhesitatantly point out that I'm a nuisance, a pointless pain. The silence could sometimes speak louder than the words themselves, the emotions written on the faces of various Vikings are sometimes the answers I really need, instead of hearing about it.

Looks like he's on that road of disappointment again, with no back to the road of acceptance, Sven if that road was never there.

I lean forwards, my body almost falling outta the shop by me inching closer to get a better glimpse, not like I could leave or tumble over as a serrated hook lifts me up, holding me firmly as it swung me back over into the workshop, as Gobber always does when I think of escaping. He can't keep me in one place for long, I may not be a real Viking but I'm still one nonetheless, no matter what my village says, and I'm gonna prove it.

I need to make my mark, and perhaps appreciation can be order.

While my appearance and mind reveal disappointment to the tribe, they never truly see my determination on the inside. Thinking I'm just doing this stuff to embarrass them, while I'm just trying for

acceptance. Looks can be deceiving, you know.

"Please, just two minutes! I'll kill a dragon!"

Two minutes? My last time limit was around 3 minutes, and I supposedly killed that dragon. All were disbelieving, none were convinced.

"My life will get infinitely better! I might even get a date"

Gobber scoffs, and I throw him an indignant glower,

before he lists off the list of 'Unsatisfactory things Hiccup can't accomplish', and guess what? They all have to do with a weapon.

"You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!"

He displays bolas, metallic ebony balls attached to ropes, you use that correctly, and you're immobilizing, impairing the dragon, it ties them up and if you're lucky, can even cut off a limb. That has

happened to a Gronckle, severing its wing, and a Hideous Zippleback, cutting off one of the heads, the other head required an axe to chop off the rest.

I tried explaining to Gobber that my invention is what I really need, that it'll do my lack of weapon throwing for me, including bolas, it's packed with those alone, but my hand accidentally pressed something as it lied down on what I call, 'The Mangler', perhaps a latch, and it sprang to life, the crossbow built in the front shooting upwards while simultaneously shooting what holds inside, my trustworthy bolas, correction, my untrustworthy bolas. Apparently, one touch from the machine, gets it up and running without permission. But I'll cut it some slack, I need to use it, regardless of the accidents that could happen, like how it just sent a Viking down by the blasting force, tackling him down in a surprised yell and a guttural groan.

But what just happened proved Gobber's point, worked more in his favor then the person who made the thing. It seemed like I was defending myself for nothing, having no such luck. My new ideas always eventually lead to the old classic direction: failure and/or disappointment. I have to do things a little differently tonight. It's not just a want, it's a need.

"Hiccup! If you wanna go out there and fight dragons, you need to stop all..this"

"But you just pointed to all of me" I say, annoyance in my tone, doing the same thing to myself, the gesturing.

"Yes, that's it! Stop being all all of you!"

Instead of being irritated, just a regular thing going on here, I'm impishly smirking, narrowing my eyes as I drag out a dramatic, unneeded, feign of realization, "Ohhh..."

I get what he's saying. All of my raw Vikingness is gonna be removed, if I stop being myself. Not if I can help it. This rare material contained will not be held in, there will be dire consequences if it's destroyed.

"You sir are playing a dangerous game"

"Keeping all this...contained—consequences!"

I point a dramatic finger in the air, keeping a serious face. That's another thing: this conversation is a lie.

Gobber just looked bored, we've had discussions like these before, him being unfazed, sarcastically muttering that he'll take his chances, and ordered me to sharpen a sword, throwing it at me as if my reflexes were top notch, I almost dropped it, but I reluctantly obey, going over to the sharpening stone, placing the supposed dull sword on the swift rolling steel, Gobber gives me work even with everything in order, so he might be lying about this,

and I get to work again.

One day I'll get out there, because killing a dragon is everything around here.

A Deadly Nadder can be quite vicious when startled or threatened, it has razor sharp spines on its tail that can shoot at you at an alarming speed, needle like and when shot it's always right on target. He spines is what makes it dangerous, and has the appearance of a large spiked up head and a smaller body with with even larger wings, complete with the spined up tail that can be even poisonous, I guess it depends on the dragon.

It's a variety of colors, but it's most common is the colors of medallion for the wings, and sapphire for the body. Getting a head of one of those is sure to get me at least noticed.

Gronckle's are tough. It's a small, lethargic dragon, it's tiny wings are what makes it so slow, but it can also spew huge fire balls that can certainly blast you apart. Taking down one of those will definitely get me a girlfriend.

A Hideous Zippleback's more exotic. A more towering dragon, it's most common color is a light green, but what makes it different than other dragons is the double heads. Two heads, twice the status.

Then.. there's the dragon that only the best Vikings go after. They deal with the one known as the Monstrous Nightmare. Long narrow sinuous horns, scaly crimson body, elongated claws and talons that could pierce your body, and has a nasty habit of lighting itself aflame, and when that happens, it's one of the most wild dragons yet.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon nobody's ever seen. We call it the—

A high pitched whistle reverberates from above in the sky: getting louder, getting closer. This imperceptible dragon, the one I'm after is known as the Night Fury.

A thundering boom, followed by an ear splitting crashshakes the ground its core, if only for a few seconds. A blast of glowing purple illuminates the starless sky, mixing in with the red orange light of the gradually diminishing fire dancing across our houses.

Sword forgotten about, I rush back over to observe more ferocious, yet brillaint purple blast through another tower, the wood submissive to the dominant fire, and that wooden construction crumbles with the same ear splitting crash as before.

This thing never steals food, never shows itself and never misses.

No one has ever killed a Night Fury, that's why I'm going to be the first.

Everyone will know at how I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, killed that dragon.

I grimly nod my head, standing as straight and as tall as I could get.

It's time.

"Man the fort, Hiccup! They need me out there!" Exclaimed Gobber, grabbing an axe. As he watched the everlasting action of human vs dragon, he couldn't leave just yet, not before telling me to "Stay. Put. There."

"You know what I mean.." Then he left me alone, his battle cry growing fainter as he ran on his one leg and peg leg.

Do I know what he means? Of course. Doesn't mean I'm going to listen. Should I go over and get that Night Fury? Let's do this.

I grabbed 'The Mangler' and sprinted out of the workshop as best as I could for somebody wheeling out a medium sized machine, but I didn't look back, not at the workshop, not even at my new customers.

People called my name in aggravation, in disapproval, and I was only halfway of being sorry.

Sorry for what might go wrong in my continuous attempts to extract the Night Fury's life, that's only a part of my intentions. What I'm not sorry for are my feelings of seeking out approval, I'm not sorry for wanting to be one of them.

My invention and I almost crash into a female Viking wielding a deadly battle axe, but we dodged her before she could hurl it at us. I'm not getting chopped off today, thanks.

I rushed over to my usual spot, to a more secluded

area that not many have visited. It's a place where grass hasn't been scorched, it was still a healthy verdant, and it's on the edge of the island, where you could view the ocean, the water was just shimmering with the moon reflecting from up above, and I set my mangler into the proper position: it automatically readies the crossbow and my bolas, and I pull it back, scrutinizing the sky, waiting for the Night Fury to show itself, waiting for the prize that nobody's ever won yet, and I listen real close, for the roar, for the high pitched whistle, anything that will give it away.

"Come on.." I whisper, narrowing my eyes as I focus determinedly on the sky, draining out the sounds of battle in the background and concentrating wholly on what's in front of me. I know it's out there.

"Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at"

The eerie sonorous screaming is still sharp in the sky, but where is it located? It could be right in front of me, or heading back to my village, but by the sounds of it calling out, I know it's close by.

I hear another cry, and it's picking up in volume, getting closer to me. I squint, preparing to take charge. I see an outline of wings soaring around, and I almost lose my grim expression, a smile was threatening to show up, but I kept my face serious, cheerless, though inwardly I was smiling.

As best as it's camouflaged, I can faintly see it, but that itself is a winner.

I just need to be patient, focused, my moment is approaching: I'll know when to strike.

A whistle only a Night Fury can produce resounds again, and another tower crumbles, the wooden pieces falling into the sea, the enormous head of the tower breaking off and disappearing into the sea with a mighty crash, a tidal wave happened, before that fell back into the ocean as well. More glowing purple fire bursting in the air, before evaporating. The dragon's in my line of sight, in my reach, and it's going anywhere!

So I took my aim.

A set of bolas zoomed out dangerously fast, at breakneck, and the force of my power into the attack sent me back to the ground, my head connecting to the dirty grass, I'm just thankful it wasn't my mouth.

A yowl bounced off the the endless blackness, and I look onwards as I kneel from the ground, as the dragon swooped down to Raven Point, but that didn't look it would do that on its own, so it must've been hurt, explaining the painful scream.. everything's connected now.

"I hit it? Yes I hit it!"

My heart leapt in ecstasy as finally something didn't backfire. A faint thud came along as it crashed, squirming in its pain not so far from here.

I toothily smile back over to the village, but my joy dampened a little as I realized nobody was a witness.

"Did anybody see that?!"

No answer from my people, but I did get an answer nonetheless. From a Monstrous Nightmare, who was breathing wisps of fire down at me.

"Except for you"

And you just crushed my successful machine! But panic took over from the annoyance that overcame my elation. Only one thing entered my mind: make a run for it!

My panic doubled as its large powerful jaws snapped viciously at me, not breathing any fire but trying to bite, crunch my body, and I'm not even that fast!

To make matters worse, it's Fire was ejecting at me,

trying to get a hit and roast me alive. I ran with my all strength and with my life on the line, dodging and sweating from the heat hurled my way, and now we were close to the Great Hall, and the Monstrous Nightmare jumped and reached the top of the stairs,

cornering me, so I couldn't go there.

I descended down the stairs so fast I almost trampled, but for the love of Thor, would this thing please stop this game of one sided tag?!

Stumbling over to a broad pole, heavily breathing and hiding behind the pole, I'm like 'Perhaps I managed to outrun it?' But prickles of apprehension

coursed through me, I know I didn't outrun it, and I felt the fear of where I was going to die where I stand.

At first, overwhelming heat, a staggering amount of flames rushed by my sides, and I, in a pathetic attempt at protecting myself, covered my head with my arms, as if this would ward off my attacker, and I looked it my right, where I should've looked to my left.

The large crimson dragon was going in for the kill, who was momentarily oblivious, so it snapped open its mouth, serrated razor fangs that could've been stained with my blood, but a blur rushed past my eyes, pushing the dragon away, battering its mouth, repeatedly punching it as if it was the last thing this person who saved me would do.

It was the chief.

The Monstrous Nightmare tried to spit out its fire breath, but it seemed it was actually injured, the mouth looking like it would break, a few scales fell out, drops of blood dropped out from the chief trying to rip it apart, it looked vulnerable, and it kept taking hits until it had to admit defeat and flew back to where it came from.

The sky was fading in blackness, more hints of dawn resurfacing, cracks of amethyst purple and pale blue awakening in the sky.. morning was coming.

Oh, and there's one more thing you need to know..

The annihilated pole turned out to be our last torch, and it collapsed, dropped down by the wreckage it took from the fire, and almost took down a Viking with it, he jumped out of the way, just as it crashed onto another house.

About that piece of information I need to conclude with you with...

I wince 3 times in sympathy, before addressing the

silent seething chief.

"Sorry, Dad"

And there goes the sheep, the dragons, and my anticipations.

"Ok but I hit a Night Fury"

Dad gave me a dark glare, his eyes barely hiding his anger before snatching my tunic, his fist trembling as he drags me along, the people watching us, the respectable chief and the village nuisance, and I tried to explain that unlike the last few times, I had a location it dropped off at, I wouldn't make that up.

But in the past I was so desperate for acceptance that I lied to get there, but not this time. Should've stuck to the truth from the beginning, there's a slighter possibility that they would've believed me. One can't tell so many lies and get away with it, once you lie, it's difficult to gain back trust.

I suggested we get a search party going, but Dad interrupted me with a no nonsense tone.

"Stop! Just..stop"

I can just hear the whispered murmurs of 'Looks like the village mistake made another mistake', and my heart clenched. They may not have been spoken, but I could still hear it. I always kept on trying to be a good Viking, never took my people's words to heart, to the truth. I have pondered over it with questions that I never got an answer for.

Why should I kept on trying to prove myself when nobody believes a word I say?

Why must I be continuous in getting the dragon that nobody's ever defeated, when I always came with nothing?

I said things were gonna be different tonight, but only part of that was true.

"Every time you step outside, disaster follows! Can you not see I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed!"

Nothing good like an unappreciated joke to my father.

"Between you and me, the village can do a little less feeding, don't you think?"

My father growled in frustration, slapped a hand to his face, gritted his teeth and demanded, "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

"I-I can't stop myself! You know, I see a dragon and have to just—kill it", while making imaginary gestures as I slay the dragon's head ".. you know.. it's who I am Dad"

Dad disagreed, telling me I'm many things, but I'm no dragon killer. I can see it in his eyes, the slowly growing disappointment. He didn't even bother to hide it!

There have been many little talks similar to this for years, but this has gotta be the biggest failure of them all. A success turned into a catastrophe. The dragon's won, we didn't, all because of me.

What an honor that is, I think with a scowl.

"Get back to the house"

He told me to get inside before but I have Gobber to make sure I don't go running off, Dad thinks I embarrassed everybody enough as it is, and Gobber smacks me in the back of the head, way to go Hiccup.

I bow my head, keeping my eyes glued to the ground, I didn't feel yet like meeting their eyes, and I heard mocking laughter ahead.

I knew it was one of the twins, Ruffnut, and her brother remarked, "Quite the performance"

It was like a sarcastic conversation going on between us, so I just waved a hand and muttered that it was nothing, before Snotlout gestured to the mess I created, and feigned amazement.

"I never seen anybody mess up that badly! That really helped!"

"Thank you, thank you. I was trying"

Astrid didn't say anything to me, didn't even look at me, she just kept looking down at her axe, and I was grateful she wasn't joining in with the mockery, not that she ever did, but it could be for reasons I don't know about.

Silence has risen its head again, just like the sun that is slowly creeping up, awakening everything with incandescent light.

"I really did hit one"

"Sure Hiccup"

"He never listens"

"Ah, runs in the family"

"When he does, it's with this disappointed scowl like somebody skipped on the meat in his sandwich"

Yea, like before I was born, somebody skipped the muscles for a muscled Viking, adding all vegetables for the bones and no fresh meat for the overpacked flesh.

"Excuse me barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side! This here— this is a talking fishbone!"

Gobber tried to explain that the part my father really can't was the inside, like my mind, but I had a feeling he was wrong.

Every time you step outside, disaster follows!

That doesn't sound like the inside to me, it sounded like double disappointment. And Gobber never was a person for reassurance.

"Look, stop trying so hard to be something you're not"

My frowning look of impersonating my father, morphed into an expression I kept to myself, that I didn't want to people to see, it was some aching sadness that has been growing over time, the emotion I felt almost every other day. That I won't be treated with positivity. When all I've done is make a negative impact on Berk.

Even Gobber has never seen me upset, so he was understandably surprised. My voice cracked as I brokenly said, "I just want to be one of you guys", telling him my utmost desire.

I softly shut the door from behind, my heart was starting to ache as I stared down at the floor, my hand on the handle, but there's no time to stand around depressed, when there's something waiting for me in Raven Point.

I have a dragon to deal with.