This will be a sequence of events that take place during the dragon training section of the movie. I'll be hitting different thoughts, throwing in some incidents, etc. I'm happy to consider suggestions of things to happen while Hiccup is home alone at night.

Night One: "Train Hard"

Dragon training. The two little words echoed in Hiccup's head long after his dad had shut the door. The dragon training in which he had been begging for months now to participate was now being forced upon him. He felt dizzy and sick and completely stupid. And rather inclined to curse fate. Only fate would have his father deciding to have him fight dragons at the same time he realized he was completely incapable of it. Only fate was that sick. Indeed, the gods hated him. That's what today was. Let's torment Hiccup Day. Have him cause a disaster, hide the dragon he shot down, prove to him he couldn't kill a dragon, and inspire his father to make him do so.

Hiccup shouldn't have agreed. The moment he said "deal" he had doomed itself. His father was pretty serious when it came to deals, always had been. But he had forced Hiccup to say that one horrible word and now Hiccup was locked into a bind. Tomorrow, he would get up and instead of going to the blacksmith stall he would be heading to the ring where he would learn how to kill dragons he couldn't handle killing. And everyone would be there and they would laugh at him and make fun of him and he frankly would rather just be slowly eaten by Terrible Terrors or even Nanodragons.

He considered heading upstairs, his plan before the entire dragon training conversation had tragically happened. What had he been planning on doing up there? Crawling into bed to act like nothing had happened, like he had never left the house, forcing him self to go to sleep so he wouldn't have to talk to his father or hear any more clever remarks about the disaster of the morning.

But now his dad was gone, off to find the dragon nest no Viking had ever found before. What was this insane quest of the adults? And when had Hiccup started thinking it insane? Just that morning he would have been thrilled with the idea, would have tagged along if he could have. Finding a dragon nest. Finding all those dragons that he could kill and keep for trophies. Right now he should be squirming with excitement of just what his dad would kill on this trip.

But he wasn't squirming with excitement. Hiccup had already tried to kill a dragon. He had failed. Horribly. He had not only failed at killing a dragon, he had failed at ever killing a dragon. It wasn't going to happen now. Nope. No sirree. But apparently he had to. He made the deal, and his dad had walked out, and who knew how long it would be before his dad would return?

As much as he would never admit it, Hiccup didn't really like it when his dad left. True, living in the house with his father was pretty much the same as not having anyone there in consideration of how much they spoke to one another. But at least he could see his dad. At least he knew he was there. At least he could count on his dad showing up eventually.

The axe Hiccup held was heavy. With a groan he let it fall to the floor. Maybe he should go to bed. With any luck, he would wake up and find the entire incident had just been a bad dream. Instead he climbed into his dad's chair and pulled his knees into his chest. The chair was huge. When he was little, he liked to sit in it and pretend he was the chief, but now it just his father's massive, cold, fearsome chair.

Yup, his dad was gone for some length of time. Maybe he would be gone the length of dragon training, or at least until one of them killed Hiccup. Did he have to go to dragon training? Like his dad would know. Actually, he would. Hiccup whined and complained about everything to Gobber habitually, but he had no idea how much of that made it to Stoick's ears. That's how it would go down: Hiccup would back out of dragon training, his dad would return, ask Gobber how Hiccup did, and that would be pure trouble all around.

Hiccup sighed and released his knees. He had to go to dragon training. There was no way out of it. Now what? Go to bed so he could be all well rested for his first day of humiliation? Or was he supposed to be practicing how to take care of himself. But as Hiccup surveyed the room he noticed everything was ready. The fire was stoked hot and ready to go. So Hiccup wasn't trusted to build himself a fire? The water jug was filled to the brim. A basket was filled with fruit and vegetables. If he went upstairs he would probably find an extra blanket folded at the end of his bed. He felt like some pet his dad was trying to keep alive for a few days.

All his dad had said was "Train hard. I'll be back. Probably." What was that supposed to mean? His entire goodbye was officially down to six words.

Up until a few years ago, Hiccup wouldn't have been allowed to stay in the house by himself even overnight. If his dad went on some trip, Hiccup would be shoved off to someone else's house, either Snotlout's where he became a human punching bag, or Gobber's, where he found himself doing even more menial blacksmith chores.

There had been a time before that where Hiccup didn't remember his dad going on any expeditions. Maybe he had, but Hiccup had no recollection of him. It had the years after his mom had died, and Hiccup had hardly been allowed out of his dad's sight.

Then, slowly, more trips out, more times with Hiccup staying with someone else. But the goodbyes had been better. Longer. More words. The first one Hiccup could remember had been after he had been dropped off at Snotlout's house. Snotlout's mom had held Hiccup's hand while she listened to the longest set of childcare instructions Hiccup had ever heard, at that point and after. After that, Stoick had scooped up Hiccup for a bone-crushing hug and to give him a long list of behavioral instructions.

Now it was all down to six words. And two of them had been concerning dragon training.

Dragon training. Oh gods. Staring into the firelight, Hiccup would still see the eyes of that Night Fury, and his heart pounded all over again. The thing had almost eaten him. He should not be alive right now. But he was, in that sick game of fate.

Maybe he should practice. He swung down from the chair and picked up the axe. It was heavier than before. He gritted his teeth and in a few moves was able to get the thing over his shoulder. Axes were swung. He could swing an axe, no matter what Gobber said.

On the other side of the room was a dragon. Invisible and imaginary, but still a dragon. Not the one in the woods, a shot-down Night Fury. Something else. A Monstrous Nightmare. No, no, he wasn't ready for that. A Gronckle? No, not quite. Deadly Nadders always made him think of Astrid, for some reason. He finally settled on a Terrible Terror. Just a little mark on the floor. Expert aiming required. All right. He was more than capable of that! Invisible imaginary Terrible Terror would not be long in the lasting!

He swung the axe.

It felt like it took every muscle in his shoulder with him. The axe remained in his arms instead of being thrown across the room, and Hiccup's body unwilling was dragged along with it until the axe collided with the floor. The immediate floor, no patch across the room. Hiccup's chin hit the floor right after the axe.

Maybe he wasn't ready for an axe yet.

Rubbing his chin and blinking back tears of pain, Hiccup stood up and carefully placed the axe against the stairs. He had a knife. He was good with a knife.

No, no he wasn't. He was terrible with a knife. He had failed today.

He sunk to the floor next to the fire and sighed. Why was this happening? Why did he have to kill a dragon now? Why not this morning? Why not weeks ago? Why did his dad have to leave at this crucial moment of Viking maturity, one for which he clearly was not ready?

Great plan, gods and Dad. Put him in the worst position possible. He climbed to his feet and went upstairs.

The heat of the fire didn't do much of a job of reaching the top floor of the house. All that existed was a single room, Hiccup's bed on one end, his father's bed on the other. Hiccup crawled into his and pulled the covers over his head. Another night alone, the night he really really really needed to talk to his dad. Not that he would have listened.

But the impossibility would have been somewhat less if his dad had actually been there.