So…I'm gonna set it out there so it is known. This is my first series within the How To Train Your Dragon fandom. I'm only just now jumping on the bandwagon started by my roommates and best friends. I am definitely planning to stick around and I have been reading stories within the fandom. I just hope I can live up to their awesomeness because there are definitely some really good writers here.

A little background on this planned series: I've done something like this for many of the fandoms where I am active. Usually, it is how I acquaint myself with the fandom. I will focus a series of stories on songs by a singer or band. So far, I've done P!nk within the InuYasha fandom, Taylor Swift within the Pokémon fandom and Skillet within The Hunger Games fandom. If you haven't already guessed, I have chosen Nickelback for this fandom. I absolutely adore Hiccup as a character, so I've chosen to make him the focused character (much like Sango, May, and Peeta in my other series). Additionally, these stories tend to be relatively short as I base them on stanzas from the songs (I write as I listen to the stanza. Whatever comes to my mind; it's quite a trick.) Each chapter is about 1-2 stanzas of the song and each story has roughly 5-10 chapters. This one will, most likely, have 5.

I have watched How To Train Your Dragon and its shorts/TV series more times than I can count, so I think I'm ready to begin. Thanks for checking out this story/series and I hope that you enjoy it.

One more thing, the first two stories in this series are pre-movie. I really want to give Hiccup's character some depth and I feel that will benefit the series. I'm thinking that Hiccup and the gang (though they aren't a group yet) are about 10 in this story.

Chapter 1: Dreams and Visions

I've always been an outcast. At times I would hear my father say it to the other Vikings. "From the time he could crawl, he's been…different." He would then proceed to list off some of the many things he disliked about me. He never knew that I was listening in, eavesdropping from a hidden location nearby. Still…it didn't matter; I can't change who I am and it seems that I will never be truly accepted in my culture and society.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I was like everyone else, if I was a great and powerful Viking like my father. I know of some other Vikings that are around my age. There's my cousin, Snoutlout, definitely more like your typical Viking. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut…they seem to prefer fighting themselves. I don't know how they will ever be able to fight dragons someday, but the villagers seem to have faith in them. That's more than I can say about myself. Fishlegs has already begun researching dragon fighting and he is capable of remembering statistics about every dragon of which we know. Yes, the villagers even consider him to be a better Viking than me. Lastly, there's one other that I often see when I am walking through the village. She is Astrid, the toughest girl I know…well, know of; there's no way she'd ever take notice of someone like me.

It is hard to walk through the village and listen to the whispered complaints about how much of a failure I am. What is it like to be one of them? To be muscular and able to defend the village in a raid? How should I know? I'm always stuck inside, watching as the "more capable Vikings" take care of everything. For now, I guess that I'll just have to dream about it.

Yes, I dream about this at night. I know that these are not actions of a typical Viking, but I guess I'm not exactly your typical Viking youth. In my dreams, I am buff and muscular, a miniature version of my father. I am the hero who saves the village and vanquishes all the dragons or kills them if they refuse to leave. In my dreams, I am accepted among the other Viking kids my age and…Astrid likes me back.

If I could live in my dreams, I definitely would. Yet, each morning I wake up to the cold hard truth: I'm still an outcast and unfit Viking…and Astrid still hates me. Is it too much to dream that someday I may become a great Viking like my father? I may not be your typical Viking, physically and, at times, mentally, but that doesn't mean that I am ready to deny my culture and my society. No, I will keep trying. I will find my place. There must be a reason that I was born into this Viking village. I may be young and I may be small, but I am nothing if not determined.

This is how my story begins. I did not pop a dragon's head clean off its shoulders when I was a baby or smash a rock in two with my head. However, I will do anything to find myself a place in this world…even if it's just as a "bread-making Viking" or a blacksmith. I've been begging my dad to ask Gobber if I could apprentice at the blacksmith's shop. At least then I wouldn't be a total outcast even if being the blacksmith's apprentice is only a step above being a complete outcast.

Yeah…well…enough about me. You know plenty to follow along. This morning, I awoke to the sunrise. Any time that happens, it is a good thing. That means that there were no dragon raids overnight. I am a light sleeper, all Vikings are. We always have to be ready for an attack. Not to mention that, because my father is chief of the tribe, any time there is a raid, he stomps around the house before loudly slamming the door on his way out. There's no way to sleep through that, trust me I've tried.

The dream I had this past night was different from the others. Most nights, I just dream that I am more physically like my father and that I am the hero of the village. Sometimes I even get my own statue. How cool would that be? Anyway, last night's dream did not feature a more muscular me. No, I was just…Hiccup, the small and the meek. Yet, in my dream, I managed to do something that no other Viking had ever done.

I had ridden a dragon, a Night Fury even. I could not see the dragon that I was riding, but I could just tell that it was a Night Fury. Something told me that it was. It was the best dream ever and it felt so real. The wind flowed through my hair and my stomach churned with the excitement of soaring through the skies. I had held my breath waiting for a fiery and painful attack to jerk me awake, but it had never come.

When I woke, I found that I was still holding my breath. Hopefully, I was not doing that all night. As relieved as I was to wake up to the sunrise, I wished that I could've held onto that dream. It had been amazing, but it would never happen. There was no way that Vikings would ever ride dragons, especially the elusive Night Fury. No one had ever even seen it. I desperately wished that I could tell my father about the dream, but there was no way. We didn't even talk about normal Viking things like dragon fighting, so how could I expect him to listen to me tell of how me and a dragon had together weaved in and out of the clouds…even if it was just a dream?

No, I would keep this to myself and hold onto it in my memory for as long as life allows. Grabbing my fur vest from my nearby desk chair, I threw it on and walked downstairs to the main floor of the house. As expected, my father was already up and stroking the fire. He was cooking breakfast for the two of us. Yeah, I never really knew my mother. She had died when I was still very young and my memories of her were slowly fading into nothingness. Often I wondered if I was like her. Was she small and meek like me? Did she have an open-mind and, unlike my father, accept me for who I am even if I am not physically like everyone else?

Even though I tried my best to silently creep into the room, I still hit one of the creaky areas on the steps, alerting my father to my presence. He turned and gestured for me to come and sit by the fire. I raised an eyebrow curiously at this strange gesture, but did as he suggested.

Immediately after I sat down, my father handed me a plate of food, telling me to "Eat up and put some meat on those scrawny bones." Not his worst insult, but…maybe I read too deep into the phrase…even though I'm betting that there is no other Viking parent on the island of Berk that has ever said this to their sons/daughters.

As I ate my breakfast, my dad gave me the news of the day. As expected, there had been no dragon raids overnight. Why does he always start off the day by talking about the raids? Then, without warning, he changed the subject. "Son, I had a little talk with Gobber."

This one sentence immediately drew my focus back to the talk. Gobber is our village blacksmith. "W-What did he say, Dad?"

"He accepts you as his apprentice. You start at the forge tomorrow."

Finally, I was going to get my wish to become an apprentice at the blacksmith's forge. In reply to this news, I simply smiled and answered, "Awesome! I can't wait!"

My father gave me a stern look. Great…now what did I do? "Do not let me down. Work hard. Learn well. If you can become a good blacksmith's apprentice, there will finally be no more of….this," he told me, gesturing to my whole body.

This is getting old fast. "You just pointed to ALL of me," I replied, frowning in slight disapproval.

"Exactly," was his short and simple answer.

Well…if nothing else, at least I would be Gobber's apprentice over at the blacksmith's forge and, if I was lucky, the work might make me more muscular. It was definitely a start.

Well, there's chapter 1. I found this to be a little harder to write than I expected, but that's okay. A good challenge is always fun. Originally, I was going to tell this story in the third-person, but I think this little series would be more beneficial if it's told through Hiccup's eyes rather than alongside him.

Feel free to tell me if/where I messed up anything. I try to continually fix chapters even after posting. As an English major (who hopes to one day become a published author), this is common practice. As always, thanks for reading and I hope it was enjoyable.

Posted: January 2nd, 2013