A/N: Hi all. I am super excited to be posting this story. It is my very first HTTYD fic so I'm a bit nervous. Any feedback is much appreciated. Also, if you have some ideas for more oneshots, let me know.

Happy Reading

Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragons or any of the characters.

When Hiccup arrived at the sea stacks, he saw her standing forlornly at the edge. From his view, she looked just like her mother. She had the same build and her blonde hair cascaded down her back. However, unlike Astrid, she opted to wear her hair loose rather than in a tight braid. At her feet was Fluffgardd, the Terrible Terror Hiccup had gotten her for her fifth birthday. He was wriggling around trying to catch a worm that was desperately trying to escape.

"So, Fishlegs tells me that he was missing a student today," Hiccup said beginning to walk towards her. The girl stiffened in surprise before turning around. It never ceased to amaze Hiccup to see his own face reflected back at him in female form. His bright green eyes and crooked smile were just as prominent on this girl as Astrid's blonde hair and warrior's grace. But today, the smile was missing from the young face.

"He must have miscounted. You know how Uncle Fishlegs can get." The joke fell flat and she looked down at her feet.

"Bryn," Hiccup began, stepping closer to her and lifting her chin with his left hand. "Why didn't you go to the Academy today? You've wanted to go ever since you could say the word dragon."

"I just didn't feel good, that's all," she said.

"This is coming from the girl who went ice fishing in the middle of winter when she had the flu because she was going stir crazy inside?" Hiccup asked pointedly. Bryn sighed.

"I'm not good enough to attend the Academy," she confessed. Hiccup took a step back in surprise.

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"Dad, you're the chief and the first one to train dragons. You trained a Night Fury for gods sake. Grandma lived with dragons for 20 years and basically knows almost every dragon secret you can imagine. Mom is-well, she's Mom! I can't even mount a Groncle and my battle skills are mediocre at best, and I'll never know as much about dragons as you, Grandma and Uncle Fishlegs." Bryn's eyes sparkled in shame and Hiccup felt his heart drop. He never wanted his little girl to feel like this.

"Come here, sweetie," he said, pulling the girl into his arms. She was shaking with the effort not to cry, but she soon gave that up. Hiccup just held her for a bit and Fluffgard hovered in midair to press his paws comfortingly in her blonde hair.

"You don't have to be like me or your mother or Grandma, or anyone else to be good enough," he said once Bryn had calmed down. "It's ok if riding and training dragons doesn't come as naturally to you as it does to others, though I honestly don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. No one your age knows that much about flying other than what they've experienced through their families' dragons, and you've done amazing with little Fluffgard here." Hiccup reached up to stroke the little Terror's belly and he purred in delight before resuming his worm chasing activities. "But even if you struggle you can still learn, and you have other strengths that come naturally to you."

"Yeah, but all I can do is draw, and that doesn't amount to much," Bryn said bitterly. Hiccup took her by the hand and led her over to Toothless, who had watched the proceedings with a small level of interest. Seeing the tear-stained face of one of Hiccup's young, Toothless crooned at her and nuzzled her leg as Hiccup pulled her onto his back.

"Hi Toothless, good to see you too," Bryn sniffled with a small smile that still wasn't as genuine as Hiccup would have liked it to be.

"C'mon Bud, back to my old stomping ground," Hiccup said, and Toothless launched into the air. Bryn grabbed her Dad's waist but couldn't help giving a small whoop of joy that lightened Hiccup's heart. No matter how bad Bryn felt she was at flying dragons, she loved and craved the sensation of flight. She had been addicted ever since her first ride at one years old.

Toothless landed in front of the blacksmith's shop and Hiccup pulled her down and towards the stone structure.

"There's the lass of the hour. We've been looking for you all afternoon. You're father's genes are shining through, I see," Gobber boomed as they entered the shop.

"Thank you, Gobber, for summing that up," Hiccup said sarcastically.

"Hi Uncle Gobber," Bryn said. He smiled warmly at her and reached down to pat her ⠩⠳⠇⠙⠻ with his wooden arm.

"We're just going to take a peek at my old room," Hiccup called as he led Bryn deeper into the shop.

When Bryn walked into the little back room, her eyes bugged out of their sockets. All around the walls were detailed drawings. Some of them she recognized and others were of things she couldn't even imagine.

"Are those the stables?" she asked, tracing the lines of one of the drawings with her finger.

"Yep, they are, Hiccup said. Bryn turned to him.

"Dad, did you draw these?" Hiccup nodded and Bryn blinked at him in awe. She hadn't realized her father was an artist. She didn't know if that made her feel better or worse.

Hiccup moved to a drawer where he pulled out a leather-bound book and flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted. He held it up for Bryn to see and she gasped. It was a hand drawn portrait of Fluffgard. The fluffy brown creature seemed to blink from the page with its big, brown eyes and it had a toothy grin.

"That's amazing, Dad," Bryn exclaimed. She was looking at the shading of the fur and the vivid detail of the irises.

"Oh I didn't draw that. You did," he said proudly. Bryn shook her head. She didn't remember drawing that, and if she did, she had no clue why her Dad would have kept it in such a beautiful book in his special room.

"A week after you got Fluffgard, I found this in your room. At five you were easily distracted and had probably forgotten all about this picture. But it was something special to me, and still is. I know your art skill has only grown. The paintings you do for the young kids of Berk during Snoggletog, the murals in the tunnels that you added, those things aren't nothing, Bryn," Hiccup said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I just feel like I'm a disappointment," Bryn confessed. "Like, I can draw, and that's good, but so can you, and you can do a lot of other things too. I just don't want to be useless."

"Brynhilde Haddock," Hiccup said sternly, causing the girl to look into her father's sparkling green eyes. Hiccup was almost at a loss for words. How many times had he had these thoughts over the course of his childhood? How many times did he wish for his father to look at him with pride and tell him that what he loved to do was useful, and that Hiccup was as much of an asset to Berk as anyone else? He shook his head, fighting off a flood of his own emotions. He knelt to be at eye level with Bryn.

"You are very special. You have skills that others don't. I was definitely not drawing at the level you were at five and you've surpassed me in the level of detail you add to each drawing you do. But it's not just about that. You have so much that you can bring to the tribe, Bryn. I grew up in a time where differences made you weak; made you less than. That's not the case anymore. All of Berk has changed that. This is the generation where we celebrate individuality. I don't need you to be the best at dragon training/flying. Astrid doesn't need you to be the best warrior, and I'm sure Grandma does not need you to run away and live with a wild nest of dragons. We all just want you to be happy with doing the things you want to do."

Bryn threw herself into her Dad's arms and hugged him tightly.

"Thanks, Dad," she said. Hiccup patted her gently.

"Now, tomorrow, go to dragon training and be the best Brynhilde Haddock you can be. And no matter what, we will all be proud of you."