Hello everyone! To get rid of my writer's block, I wrote this peace based on the FanFiction of VoidOfRoses called "The Other Side of the Coin". The thing is that I fell in love with this Otcast!Hiccup she created and I asked her permission to use him.

This might be a one-shot or not, I haven't decided yet. I highly recommend you to read "The Other Side of the Coin" just for understanding the story a bit more. This might be seen as a prequel or as an extra, whatever you want.

Disclaimer: I do not own Outcast!Hiccup, How to Train your Dragon and the characters that may appear. They all go to their respective owners, Dreamworks or VoidOfRoses. I'd like to thank VoidofRoses publically in this FanFiction for letting me use, in a way, her story.

Enjoy!

This is Outcast Island, the place where all the Outcast Vikings go to when they get exiled and banished for the most atrocious acts of treachery and treason. This is where I live; my name is Hiccup, known by all as Hiccup the Horrendous. I'm the youngest of the Outcast Tribe with fifteen years old; how did I wind up here being so young? No, I didn't rob; no, I didn't murder; according to my father, I washed up on these shores when I was just a newborn baby. He found and raised me, basically, he saved me. I'm the heir to the Outcast Tribe so that makes me the son of Alvin the Treacherous in case it isn't obvious. His favorite bedtime story was about the day his henchmen found me and brought me to him and it always came with the story of his archenemy Stoick the Vast and how he banished him to this island.

During my early years I couldn't picture the relation Stoick had with me or why my father was always complaining about him, until my fifth birthday. It was time to go to bed and as every night before my dad walked into my room. He neared my bed and sat next to me and started with the bedtime story like he always did with some slight changes.

"Hiccup, there's something I want to talk to you about. I think you are old enough to know the truth," he told me and I listened intently. I liked it when father took me seriously and talked about serious things with me; it made me feel important. "You remember the story I always tell you at night, right?"

"Yes, it's about when I washed up on shore and you took me in; then you'll tell me about Stoick the Vast and all the bad things he did to you," I answered.

"You're very clever lad," Alvin praised patting my head. "What I need to tell you tonight is about Stoick and you. You do know I am not your real father, right?" he asked me and I nodded. "Your real father is Stoick the Vast."

When he confessed that to me I remember that I took at least a minute to process the news. "If Stoick is my father, then why am I here?" I asked him trying to understand. As a kid I was naïve and confused, so I didn't think it would be offensive to ask.

"Stoick the Vast is chief on the island of Berk. They have a tradition over there, a rule that condemns those like you to live like someone like me," he explained to me; I kept quiet because I was trying to tie two and two together. "When a hiccup is born it means bad luck to the village and they toss the newborn baby into the sea as a sacrifice for Thor. I know it is hard Hiccup, but five years ago you were that baby Stoick threw away."

After that is easy to imagine what followed. My father said that as I was old enough to hear the truth I was old enough to start training on how to kill dragons and he stopped coming to tell me bedtime stories. The first day of training was disastrous; I got almost killed, father said it's because I was weak. He showed me how to be a real fighter by fighting himself and killing a dragon. I wanted to be like him and so I started training harder and harder, sometimes I even went to the woods on my own.

The first dragon I ever killed was a terrible terror. It was a small catch, but the smile on father's face was worth it. It was walking in the woods and it hadn't noted my presence; I let it walk near me and when he was on my reach I jumped and cut its head off with my knife. I took both pieces to father and he put the face as a trophy while he ate the body. After I killed it I couldn't help to kill something bigger and better, so I kept training.

The next time I got to the kill ring I was eight years old. I got a scar in my eye, but I managed to slay the dragon. It was a nadder and I tied one of its teeth to a piece of string that I turned into a necklace. It was my first trophy, my first kill and I wanted more. The rush of the kill ring, the blood spilling on the ground, the sound the scales of the beast made when I sank the knife onto their flesh; it was the best experience.

On my tenth birthday father gave an axe he got from Johan the Trader. It was beautiful and I couldn't help but think of all the dragons I could kill. It was also quite big, so I would need to train even harder to use it properly. That night I remember we had a great feast because this ship entered outcast waters and we ate the whole crew; I even got a liver all for myself. Father always got the hearts and brains, which in my opinion are the best parts organs of the human body.

With Johan the Trader apart from my axe and various weapons came also news. News from Berk; apparently Stoick had thrown a feast to announce that the heir for the Hooligan Tribe was going to be Snotlout Jorgenson, son of Spitelout Jorgenson who was brother of Stoick the Vast Haddock. I hadn't heard that name in years, apart from some ranting of my father about him, but that didn't mean I didn't resent him. I couldn't help but think that he took away the life I could have had; he just despised me because I wasn't the son he would've liked to have. He just threw me away like trash, he gave me for death and now he was feasting and celebrating? What was his problem?

A few nights after the news brought by Johan I vented my thoughts on my private practicing spot. By then I could already lift the axe above my head, and I kept swinging it against a dead tree trying to hit the same spot constantly. I was so angry and ranting about Stoick when father arrived.

"Son, what are you doing here all by yourself?" he asked playing innocent.

"Training" I simply answered praying that he didn't heard me.

"So, what was that ranting all about?" he asked and I hit the trunk one more too hard because the axe got stuck.

"I just don't think it's fair that Soick was having a party while we barely have anything to eat," I told him.

"But that's not all of it, is it lad?"

I sighed. "No, I was also thinking that I could've been there. But I wasn't because he thought I wasn't good enough to be his son; I wasn't because he threw me away when there was no chance I would've survived on my own. If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead."

"You're right son, most of this if not all of it is Stoick's fault. I know how you feel because I feel the same. I've been planning on getting revenge for a very long time now, do you want to join me?" he agreed with me and asked me to be part of his plan to get back to Stoick. My eyes lit up and my spirit lifted.

"You're on father" I told him and he patted me on the head. For all my life I thought I'd have to endure living like this without any possible way to meet Stoick and make him pay for what he did to me, but now my father was offering me the chance to do it. That was the happiest day of my short life.

So, what did you think? Like it, hate it? Please, I humbly ask you to review; your comments and your opinions is what make many writers, not just me, keep going. You can tell me anything, what is missing, what is right or what is wrong. Just avoid flames and hateful comments.

I hope you liked it and I believe you'll be seeing/reading a lot of me now that I have time to spare.

Thank you for your support, as always, and see you on another FanFiction.

Sincerely,

Clear Eyes.