AN: So, here it is. If it seems short and a little weird, and a little OOC, that's because this is my first HTTYD fic, ever, so...yeah. Flames and suggestions are welcome. Just so you all know, I am a serious TuffCup shipper/Hictrid hater (sort of) but I don't think there's going to be much homo-ness in this story, rather none at all because I want to appeal to the general public. There might be a bit of ToothCup, but nothing serious.

Again, flames and criticism as well as suggestions are much appreciated.

Read on.

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- with Hiccup -

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One thing you must know about dragons is that they aren't always the sharpest swords in the rack. In fact, most times, they're kind of dull, and need a little encouraging to see anything more than what's right in front of their eyes (and if he were being frank, it's much the same with Vikings). But that doesn't mean they must be killed for it. In fact they're pretty peaceful creatures underneath all the claws and teeth and terrifying growls...it just takes a lot of patience, and a little understanding.

Take now, for example. I had just thrown down my dagger and shield and told the Nightmare that I wasn't "one of them"...and it was kinda true. I had never had the same killer instinct that the rest of the villagers seemed to summon without effort, and this was the first time. I wanted to admit it to myself...all I had wanted, all my life, was to be accepted into the tribe, and if that meant killing a few dragons and mounting their heads on spikes, I had always felt that that's just how it had to be...but not anymore.

The clattering of the weapons echoed faintly in my own ears and it seemed that everything had stopped for a moment, as if the entire world was holding it's breath. Besides the few confused and outraged whispers, the arena was in danger of becoming totally silent.

"What is he doing?" I heard my father ask rather quietly as I put up my hands, at the total mercy of the Nightmare.

"I need you all to see this." I said with conviction. "They're not who we think they are!" I held very very still as the dragon lowered it's head further and seemed to contemplate putting it's trust in me as well, leaning a bit towards my open palm. "We don't have to kill them."

I could see it. I could see the reason beginning to bloom in the great reptile's eyes as it began to lean towards my touch, and for an incredible moment, I felt as though I was actually going to do it! By the gods, I was going to accomplish something amazing! These moments here could be an incredible milestone for Vikings everywhere. The war could have a possibility of ending, if I could just get them to understand that all of this is pointless.

"Stop the fight!" My father muttered gruffly, and I could hear the anger churning just under his voice. Knowing my father, it was only going to build, but I had to at least try.

The Monstrous Nightmare's pupils had just begun to dilate with the thoughts that I had no intention to harm it, and I felt my heart leap in joy and victory, despite my dad's words. This was going to work!

"I said STOP!" Stoick the Vast's huge war hammer slammed against the chains webbing around the arena, a split moment before my hand would've met the scaly skin of the dragon's snout, and abruptly everything went to hell. The Nightmare's eyes went wide, it's body tense, and it's pupils narrowed into slits faster than you would believe. Quick as lightning, it lashed out and it's terrifying teeth chomped down just inches from where my hand had been a moment before.

"No!" I exclaimed, a fair bit of fear tugging at my insides now that the Nightmare was reared up on its flanks. "No!"

It was too late, and before I could even take another breath to calm the beast, there was fire everywhere. Screaming I ran for my life across the arena, barely escaping the great waves of fire scorching the air just behind me, making me wince as the heat met my skin. The dragon was everywhere, on the ground, up on the walls, scuttling like a gigantic lizard bent on having me for lunch. Vaguely, I heard people yelling in an odd mixture of rage, excitement and alarm, some screaming at me to pick up a sword and others calling for someone to help me. This vaguely surprised me-I would've thought they'd just let me get fried with no concern whatsoever. Death or glory, as my father always says, I thought bitterly.

Said father was now beckoning me towards the entrance he'd opened with frantic arms and, realizing that I had no other choice rather than to be burned to a crisp, I bolted for the gate. There the exit was, just past the weapons's rack. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, but even before the stream of fire that blocked the way, I knew I wasn't going to make the door. My father stepped back and covered his head against the assault.

All at once, I was knocked back, down to the dirt and pinned down by two comically long, terrifying claws. The Nightmare was wild now, and after all the commotion, there was no reasoning with it. I was no longer a boy who had just been trying to communicate peacefully with it just a few moments ago-I was the enemy. They had ruined my chance! Their chance! The Nightmare's chance, to prove it was an intelligent creature that felt pain and fear and-

This was how I was going to die...how we were both going to die, me and the Nightmare. After this dragon finishes me off, the Vikings would surely retaliate for the taking of a life, in the most cruel of ways...oh gods, Toothless...

Please let him be okay. Please let him get off this island, somehow...let him go far away from here, where it's safe, I thought as I stared into the eyes of the beast that was about to finish me off. I couldn't blame the Nightmare...it was my father's fault, for spooking him, when I was just about to get through to him!

What kind of father would do that? I was very clearly in no immediate danger until he interrupted me. He knew what would happen...knew this would happen. I guess this was my fault too, for thinking that I could get through to him or anyone even a little bit- he never listened before, so why would he now? Did I actually think these people could change? I'm so stupid...but if my entire village, my father would rather see me as...one of them, so impulsive and unfeeling, unthinking, rather than who I really am, then...maybe this is best for everyone.

Everyone but Toothless...I'm sorry, bud. I'm not going to be making it back.

"Death or glory." I whispered, closing my eyes for what I thought was the final time. I heard the familiar sound of gas building above me, and felt the heat before the fire had ignited. The fire that would end my life.

I heard my father scream.

And the most amazing thing happened, as every Viking looked towards the sky in confusion. Even the Monstrous Nightmare seemed confused, and halted it's attack, rearing up just a little bit and allowing for sweet air to rush into my lungs. That sound...that sound had only ever been heard at night, during the weekly dragon raids. A sonic sound that Hiccup knew came from only one dragon's sleek wings and the rapid building of lethal plasma before it was let loose.

"Night Fury!"

"Get down!"

The world exploded.

Or, that's what it seemed like, at least. All at once, every Viking cried out, a purple ball of energy from the skies streaked towards the arena at high velocity, and the Nightmare just had enough time to lift it's paw completely before the cage above them combusted.

The earth shook, smoke was everywhere, and even more disorienting than the smoke and my own lack of oxygen was the huge metal chains that rained down from the huge hole that had been blasted through the arena's protective caging. A few burning embers landed on me, one in particular searing through my tunic and burning my chest before I yelled and flung it off. But even that was the least of my worries. I wasn't afraid- I knew what was happening. He must've heard me scream.

"Toothless!" I cried in a mixture of relief, joy and horror, not knowing which emotion to favor most, especially as he landed dead in front of me and warned the Monstrous Nightmare to back off. I'd only ever heard that terrifying noise one time previously- when it had been me he was ready to attack. Toothless slunk closer to the ground and that was when the Nightmare struck.

He was fast, but the attack in itself might've took Toothless by surprise...I don't think he was used to being challenged by, uh-hem...lesser dragons. Then again, Nightmares were tough and full of tricks, and they didn't like to back down. Meanwhile, I heard the whole of the audience gasp and exclaim in amazement as they were met with a sight that had evaded them for years- a complete, unmarred view of the beast that had never before been seen by any Viking (as far as they knew).

"Night Fury!" I heard Gobber's awestruck voice in particular, coming from the stands just to the side of me. I winced as Toothless was pushed to his back, knowing that he was okay, but his saddle-oh, the saddle!

"Toothless, you need to go!" I tried to tell the dragon as quietly as I could without appearing to be actually talking to him. But he didn't seem to hear me-he was rolling around with the Nightmare, as the red beast took swipes and bites for his head, although Toothless clearly had the upper hand. The Night Fury pushed his attacker to the ground with one mighty front paw, and sunk his teeth into the dragons shoulder. "Toothless!"

Vikings were starting to drop from the stands now, as Toothless released the dragon under him and the Monstrous Nightmare flew off, through the gaping hole in the cage with a roaring cry of defeat.

"Toothless!" I cried, as a couple Vikings, so much larger than myself, began to try and seize him. "No!"

He roared back at me, though with a different tone that he used for battle, and with one look at his strange, green eyes that weren't angry or fearful, but very worried, I knew that he was asking me what was going to happen now. He had saved me, but he had also exposed himself to all in and around the arena-something I knew would bother him for a long time...so, what now?

In the split second it took me to shake myself out of my stupor, Toothless had already thrown off all of his attackers, knocking more over with his tail. More were advancing, and the numbers were beginning to worry me. Thinking back to just the last few minutes, and the conversation I had with my dad the night before, I knew what I had to do.

As quick as I was able, I sprinted towards Toothless, just a few meters away, and got ready to climb on his back, immediately feeling the dragon's strong muscles tense. The Night Fury was the only dragon I knew of that was capable of taking a vertical jump and flying in the sky a moment later.

"Hiccup!" I heard, just before I would've mounted, and turned to see the angry face of my father a moment before I told Toothless to take flight without me.

Something strange happened, then, after Toothless took to the air and hovered above the arena, just out of reach of the crazed Vikings. Axes were thrown, but easily avoided, and any spears or swords thrown bounced off Toothless' sleek hide harmlessly, sliding along his scales without making much more than a couple scratches. None of the weapons had enough power behind them to do any serious damage.

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third!" Stoick's voice rang across the arena, and I jumped in spite of myself, turning to see my father glaring at me from across the arena. I heard Toothless growl menacingly above me, before I looked up and caught on to what he was doing. He was taking aim at the stone doors that held the dragons in their confinements. I leapt out of the way, knowing full well that the stubborn reptile wasn't going to leave until he accomplished his goal.

"Don't hurt them." I said loudly, knowing Toothless would hear me, and he carefully waited for any Viking to move out of the way before sending a relatively smaller blast of plasma at the stone and chains holding the Zippleback. He rose higher as more weapons flew from the ground.

"This is what you've been doing?" Stoick the Vast was beyond angry now. "All of your training, it was all a lie?!"

"Dad, please!" I tried to reason, trying desperately to remind myself that I was supposed to hate my dad. "I told you I couldn't kill dragons!"

"You didn't tell me you were collaborating with the beasts!" My dad pointed a finger at me, seeming not to hear the explosions as the Terrible Terror and Gronkle were freed from their cages. The Zippleback was wreaking havoc, pushing the crowd of villagers out of the kill ring as the others flew off.

"I'm not-" I was cut off as the tip of a rather blunt spear struck me in the shoulder, and I yelled in pain. I didn't see who threw it, but I knew that there was an equal chance that it had either been on purpose or accident as one of the dragon's knocked it away. Either way, I felt warm blood seep through my tunic as I glanced up to see Toothless roar and rear up to shoot two final blasts while swerving in place to avoid more weapons. He had to hurry- more Vikings were starting to come with bolas.

In the space of a single moment, one of the blasts hit the Deadly Nadder's cage, and immediately, two rows of spikes shot out into the ring, pinning people to the walls and striking others in the armor. The other plasma shot seemed directed at my father, and by some chance, hit the ground beneath his feet instead. Dirt exploded, and the Chief of Berk flew back into the crowd, surrounded by many cries of "Chief!" and "Stop them!" and "They're getting away!".

With a mighty screech, Toothless was gone, though I knew with certainty that it wasn't for the last time, and I was left standing in the ring with a whole lot of angry Vikings. As the dragons flew off, in a different direction than the one that would lead the hunting party to our cove, the Chief of the tribe turned to where I stood, watching the scene with anxious eyes and a horned helmet clutched to my chest. His eyes narrowed.

"Come with me." My dad turned without another word, and I was left to limp along behind him, clutching my bleeding, throbbing shoulder and keeping my eyes down as to not meet the angry stares of the villagers. I felt it was safe to say that this wouldn't be an easy night for me. I would be lucky not to be formally banished.

A thought that was rapidly becoming an actual possibility.

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"I can't even begin to express..." My dad threw his hands up and then clutched his head, looking a moment away from actually pulling out his hair. All my dark feelings towards the man had just sort of...deflated, once we'd gotten back to the hut. Now, all I wanted to do was make things right. Maybe now, when we're alone, I could make him understand...

If he would let me speak for a moment.

"Look, this isn't as bad as it seems-" My father fixed me with a furious look, and I shrunk back in my seat. "Okay...maybe it's a little bad, but if you would just let me explain-"

"Explain WHAT?!" He stomped back and forth in front of me. "Explain how you've been sneaking off behind my back- behind all of our backs, to make friends with that devil..."

"Toothless is not a devil!" I cried earnestly. "He's not as bad as you make him out to be, dad! None of them are! They act in defense, that's it!"

"I suppose that's why they attack, then!" He huffed. "That's why they've killed hundreds of us, stolen hundreds of our livestock! Burned this village almost to the ground more times than I can't count!" I winced.

"It's not like that..." I lowered my gaze to the floor.

"Gah!" My dad's face screwed up in anger and disappointment, and that stung more than anything else that had resulted from the day. Including the freshly stitched shoulder wound that still bled into the cloth wrapped tightly around it. I wrung my hands the best I could without pain. "Dad, I'm sorry-"

"I don't know where I went wrong..." Once again, he wasn't listening to me, a hand over his eyes and the other on his hip. "Odin, I tried. Hiccup, I just don't know, I..." He looked over at me, eyes full of anger and unease, and I felt a sick kind of sadness begin to gather in my chest. Was I really that much of a disappointment? He was actually looking at me like I wasn't his son anymore. As if I never had been.

"Dad...I really am sorry." I said quietly, beginning to tinker with the horns on the helmet I still hung on to. "I-"

"I'm sorry too." My father heaved a great sigh and stared into the fire. "Hiccup, you know well what the penalty is for those who don't complete their dragon training." My eyes widened. "Those who don't pass and complete their training...they're..."

"Exiled." I choked out, barely managing a whisper. Banished- cut off from the tribe and thrown out to live...anywhere but here. I was contemplating leaving earlier, contemplating death, even but to actually be exiled...

"I'm sorry Hiccup." I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing he would just stop talking. I knew where this was heading. "I tried, and I don't know where I went wrong, what I didn't do. I should've seen it...from the start, you..."

"Dad, I'm sorry!" I said for what seemed like the hundredth time. My voice and eyes were probably desperate now, but this one-sided conversation was taking a rapid downward-spiral.

"We had a deal, Hiccup." My dad's voice was rather emotionless and his eyes were hidden in his hand again- though I didn't expect them to be much better.

"I know, but even that was after I met Toothless, dad..." I struggled to words. "Dad, I can't fight dragons! I can't, but that doesn't mean I can't be useful! Dragon...training might actually be my thing. They're really quite docile if you give them a chance! Maybe we could even use this to our advantage-" My dad's head snapped up, then.

"Vikings are warriors, Hiccup!" His eyes were hard. "And warriors are Vikings. Anyone from these isles cannot be one without the other. Warriors are fearless and strong, and they bring honor to their tribe, especially the Hooligan warriors." He shook his head. "So far you've done nothing but wreak havoc and put your lot in with the enemy."

"If you would please just listen-" I tried, for what I knew was probably the last time. The decision was coming to a close.

"If you knew how much you've shamed this family..." He shook his head, more rapidly this time, and his shoulders slumped as if in surrender. "You're not a Viking." His eyes turned to meet mine, then. "You're not my son."

My world stopped.

Meanwhile, Stoick the Vast was heading for the door. "A decision's not yet been made. I need to consult the council, but so far this situation isn't looking well. The damage to the arena alone..." From the corner of my eye, I saw him swing the door open, and the night wind made the fire swing this way and that. "Maybe I can convince them that you've gone insane, which may not actually be better, but-" with a great sigh, he stepped out and the door slammed closed.

But for me, the conversation didn't end there.

My body was cold and numb, despite the roaring fire and the mug of steaming willow-tea directly in front of me, giving off whisps of heat. The house was silent, but mind kept replaying my father's words, ripping a new tear in my heart each time.

Not my father, I corrected myself grimly. Oddly enough, another one-sided conversation came up several times, one that I'd heard often in the years passed. Although, usually...they were said when I needed a bit of encouragement.

"You are soon to be the pride and strength of this tribe, Hiccup- a chief! What does a chief feel, son? You must be a man about this! A chief feels no pain. A chief feels no fear. A chief must be above mere weak, personal feelings for the good of the all."

I knew I would be hearing no more words of encouragement from my no-longer-father. I had been disowned...I was going to be exiled.

After that, it was only a matter of fifteen minutes before I was ready.

Packed in one light knapsack were my blankets, most of my clothes, sandals, my favorite books, knickknacks, journals, notebooks, and my writing and measuring utensils...basically, anything I knew I would want later. In a larger, heftier bag, I packed all of the essentials; my tools, a lot of extra leather and furs, bars of crude soap, some cloth, needles, and sinew, a lot of rope, a collapsible fishing rod I'd made a while back, metal hooks, a couple wooden mugs and bowls, candles, metal candle holders, jars of oil, an empty lantern and the few daggers and knives I owned. I also grabbed a few things like bandages and herbs I knew I would need to treat further injuries and sicknesses. On a whim, I snatched a small sack of gold, silver and jewels from the hut's stash in the pantry and, oddly enough, didn't feel a shred of guilt over it.

The larger tools I would need, I could get later from the armory, and they would fit in the bag, but for my food supplies...

Mind still in a cold daze, I sighed and went to find another satchel.

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Okay, so I'd managed to heft all of this onto my back and wounded shoulder whilst shoving a few more weapons and tools into my bag on the way out- namely, some scrap metal, a bucket, a couple weapon molds, a hammer, a bit of sandstone, and a medium-sized hatchet with a bag of nails. It weighed quite a bit more after I'd added all of it, and I'll admit, I pretty much stripped my room bare...but that didn't matter. Stoick probably wouldn't want to see my possessions and be ever reminded of his shame after I'm gone. The things I took were rather slim and dusty, and would probably not be missed for a long while, if ever.

I felt the weight of my soon-to-be-declared banishment drag on me as I went, but held any tears back as I headed to the smithy. I once again tried to remind myself that I had no ties with the people here, now. I am completely cut off from all of the villagers here who were never really my tribe. I was something that had been forced upon them. A nuisance. A mistake.

A statement made clear in the few minutes I stood by the forge, listening to Stoick rave to Gobber.

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do, Gobber!" The chief's anxiety-filled voice sent a chill crawling up my spine and a sneer twisting my expression.

"For the love of Thor, Stoick!" Gobber sounded rather distressed as well. "Maybe if you'd actually made an attempt to bond with him before he went running to the beasts-"

"What are you saying?!"

"I'm saying that you know more about the trail of blood and armor leading to Helheim's Gate than you do about your own son!" From my position outside the window, I could hear it quite clearly when the blacksmith huffed. "Where have you been, every time his screw-up's caused him to be the bane of the village? Where were you when he needed a little fatherly encouragement? Why, if Valka were here-"

"You think I don't-"

"She would be telling you the exact same thing that I am right now." Gobber rather shouted with an air of finality, an Hiccup sunk in on himself more with the mention if his mother. "And be hitting you over the head with the blunt of her war axe for good measure!"

There was a pause and then Stoick sighed. For a while, there was nothing but the steady hissing of the forge and the rapid beating of my heart, hammering against my chest.

"This is Hiccup we're speaking of. Just about the least-threatening Viking of us all, and the most creative. Have you ever taken a moment to consider that maybe his being different isn't the worst thing? He may not be the finest of warriors, but he's a good lad where it counts." Gobber sighed, and I felt a rush of...something fill my chest. "That boy vies for your attention, Stoick. Maybe it's time you slowed down and listened for a moment."

"And what's left to listen to?" Stoick sounded disgusted. "You seen the boy today! Even if I could convince the council that he's fallen under the spell of that dragon, he'd still be a constant, painful reminder of my biggest mistake! Don't you see that I can't stand to watch my own flesh and blood deteriorate in front of me- failing more every day! Making friends with beasts!"

And the sick feeling was back in my chest, fitting right in alongside sadness and numbness. The feeling of not bing wanted that just about brought me to my knees. The stress of the day was getting to me, and combined with the disownment from my father, it was taking a rapid negative effect.

"Listen to yourself, Stoick." Gobber's voice was a bit softer now. "You don't mean that."

"You say he's the least-threatening of us all." My father continued. "I say that that is the exact reason he is our biggest threat. Berk has no room for the weak."

Their conversation carried on, I'm sure, but I was already gone. That settled it- if Gobber, my mentor, and my dad's closest friend couldn't convince him to let up, then nothing would. I would just have to deal with the aftermath...I had to get out while I still could. While I was still able to do what I wished freely.

Shouldering my luggage with a wince, and bracing myself, I headed out into the forest with no light source but the moon. It was time I left Berk behind.

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- with Toothless -

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Even after the events of today, seeing my rider in such a state of distress was disconcerting. Especially, taken into account how much luggage he carried with him. The small human looked to be a step away from collapsing under all the extra weight. In the weeks past, all he'd ever brought with him were baskets of fish, the saddle, some tools and animal skins...why would he need so much equipment?

Then again, this was a day like no other. The other dragons had fled, but I had waited, gracefully avoiding any pursuing Vikings, and waited and waited anxiously for Hiccup to return, as I knew he would. Some things never change.

"Hey bud." He dropped the bags at his feet and staggered towards me. Alarmed, I took in his bloody, haggard state and the tears glittering in his eyes. His voice, however, was gentle and friendly as always. "How do you feel about taking a flight?"

I felt my ears perk up and my eyes brighten, and Hiccup gave a few weak chuckles, managing to look sad and happy at the same time, and I longed to understand what had happened. Something had, obviously. Were we leaving for good? Why else would he need all that he'd brought?

I crooned and leaned in, butting my nose against his cold cheek, trying to convey my silent question. 'Are you okay?'

"Everything's fine, bud." He smiled and reached up to scratch behind my ears. "Everything's going to be okay...we're just taking a bit of a vacation. Away from here...maybe it'll do us some good." His face sobered then, and he leaned in until he was clutching himself to my neck. For a second, I was taken aback, for these things were rather something of human culture than dragon, and then slowly, I lowered my head until it rested across the boy's small back. I felt him let out a large sigh, hearing the unsteadiness of it, and he hugged me ever tighter.

For a moment, we just stood there, in our version of an embrace...because I didn't understand it, for human ways were foreign and ridiculous to me, but I understood pain, on the outside and on the inside. My rider was in pain.

"Some things never change." He sighed, echoing my thoughts just moments before, and I crooned, giving him a small lick on the cheek when he pulled back.

After I helped him clumsily attach the new baggage to my saddle, - which weighed, to me, hardly anything at all - he jumped on my back, still making that weird sniffling noise every now and then. In the silent night, I could hear the rapid beating of his heart and ached to soothe him. This much stress couldn't be good for him, if human hatchlings were anything like dragon hatchlings. I know one injury he'd acquired for certain, the one that now stained his tunic, and I know his brute of a family had probably not given him the easiest time after the...escape. Surely, they hadn't been SO harsh on him, as to drive him away. What had caused him such pain? It began to seem an awful lot like he was fleeing from his home.

Perhaps, one day he would tell me.

As I took to the skies, and we caught one last sight of the miserable village, I felt Hiccup lie down across my saddle.

"Berk has no room for the weak." I heard my rider say, and I rumbled in disagreement.

'I've never met a stronger human.' I said, furious with my vocal chords for not having the ability to speak Norse. 'I've never met anyone more intelligent or kind! That petty village is home to cowards and idiots and nothing more now that you're gone.'

I knew he couldn't understand me, but I felt a few drops of water splash against my hide, rapidly cooling in the wind. My heart ached for him...a rather unusual occurrence in most dragons, to hurt for a human, but then again, I wasn't most dragons. Hiccup wasn't like most humans.

Keeping slightly lower to the ground, where it was warmer than in the clouds, I did all I could to keep warm the boy who I could tell was already fast asleep, going as far as to puff out tiny blasts of plasma so that the cooling flames would wisp around the boy. It felt good to know that he trusted me to keep him while he slept, and even if he didn't, I was relieved that he would be getting rest. However strong his mind and soul, his little body needed all the rest it could get.

I would find a better home for him, better than the one we'd left behind. Somewhere we didn't have to hide. A home that was beautiful...one that could support us both...but where? From my travels before I'd been shot down, I knew a few suitable islands, ones that were inhabited neither by man nor dragon.

With a grim determination in mind, I picked up speed, wanting to land before sunrise. It was going to be a long night.

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- with Stoick the Vast -

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I cursed as I tripped over a stray root on the way back up to the hut. Just getting back from consulting the council and village elder, it would be correct to say that all I wanted was to go to sleep, wake up, and realize that this was all a nightmare.

Hiccup.

I stopped at the door and sighed. The anger I'd felt earlier was still prominent, but it was beginning to lessen ever so slightly. And after all, I had the right to be angry, to be beyond angry, and I was.

The boy surely couldn't do all that he did and expect not to receive some kind of punishment for it. Even for the quite...off boy that he was, he wasn't stupid. Maybe he really did believe that he was doing right in some twisted way, but then again, maybe the beast really had charmed him into following it. Dragons were known for their hypnotic abilities, were you to gaze into their eyes for that long.

I realized something then, and almost could've kicked myself. All of this could've been avoided. The boy had told me! The minute he shot it down with that wretched flying-bolas contraption he'd invented, he had told me! And I didn't hear anything except my disappointment and shame for him buzzing unpleasantly in my head. If I had only believed him...

This all could have been avoided- not for certain, but it could have. Now we'll never know.

Maybe Gobber was right. Maybe, as Gobber had tried to convince everyone, my wayward son had been judged a bit too harshly...Hiccup was Hiccup, after all, and even if he was a bit slow, always with his head in the clouds, he was no cold-blooded killer. That was something every Viking would agree on. The boy was practically afraid of his own shadow. He wouldn't intentionally put everyone in danger, and I myself had to admit...I had played a considerable part in the whole incident. The moment I'd brought my hammer down...but what else was I to do?! Let him be eaten right before my eyes?! The devil had him under a spell! He was bewitched! That was it, it had to be.

Making a disgusted noise at myself, I found the door locked and huffed before reaching for my keys. Only the chief's and elder's hut had locks on the door, and it took a moment for him to fumble the small object into the slot correctly. Woe were the rare days when I was so intoxicated that I had been forced to sleep on the steps due to my inability to handle the keys.

"Useless things." I muttered. "Who would dare steal from a chief anyway?"

Little did I know, I would soon be receiving my answer.

Letting myself in, I dropped my hammer by the door and shrugged off my furry cloak. Stepping into the den, something immediately felt...off. I couldn't put my finger on it, and although we did worship gods, Vikings were not creatures of superstition. I narrowed my eyes and looked about the hut as I went.

The fire was burning, in itself, not unusual. Everything was clean, again, not unusual. The windows were closed, the door was locked, a candle or lamp burned from upstairs in Hiccup's room. There was a pot of willow tea on the table, which I guessed was something Hiccup had made to calm the pain from his wound.

Oh, Hiccup...

"Hiccup!" I called lowly, directing my voice towards his room. If he were sleeping, I felt it best not to wake him. I should be sleeping myself, but-

I sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. I owed him...some kind of apology? Perhaps I had been quite hard on him. It's not like I hadn't heard other parents yelling at their children, shouting obscenities at them, but that was their business. Never before had I raised my voice to my son as such, and Hiccup was not like every other child on Berk.

"Hiccup..." I murmured, climbing the first few stairs up to the second level of our home, fully expecting him to be sitting up drawing, or to be fast asleep under his buckskin covers. "Son, if you're awake, I need to-"

Empty.

That was the only way to describe it-the only way it was, was empty. The bed, desk, bearskin rug and nightstand was still there, but everything else, all of his books and journals, all his little tools and scrolls were all gone. Even the blankets and covers that made up his bedding were gone, as well as the sets of clothing and footwear that had hung on the opposite wall.

And two more things...on top of the worn desk lie a horned helmet and heavy battle axe. The same battle axe that I'd given Hiccup on his first day of dragon training. The same helmet I'd given him earlier this very day.

Blinking, it took me a few moments for it all to sink in. A few moments I might not have had, if my son had actually...

'If you knew how much you've shamed this family. You're not a Viking.' I heard myself say in a contempt-filled voice, still gazing into the empty room. 'You're not my son.'

The next thing I knew, I was out on my front porch. "Hiccup?!" I asked loudly, as though he would hear me and come trudging back into my view from the darkness. Somehow, I knew he wouldn't.

"HICCUP?!"

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The sun was just beginning to greet the stars in hues of blue when the island I'd been looking for finally came into view. I huffed. So I hadn't made it before sunrise, but so what? At least we were here, and Hiccup had woken and covered himself in thicker furs long ago, so I knew he wouldn't freeze, this had given me enough time to properly survey the island, now surrounded almost completely in fog.

It wasn't small, but it wasn't necessarily large either. It was maybe a little over half the size of the hunk of rock we'd just left behind, and far more attractive in terms of scenery.

White, sandy beaches littered with rocky patches surrounded the better part of the island while tall cliffs made up other parts. Descending slowly from those tall cliffs was a small, green mountain of sorts -though it was far too small to be called a proper mountain- and around that were thick forests with lush grasses. Close to the beaches in several places were caves leading into rocky hills.

After a couple of laps around the island, I landed as gently as I could on one of the mountain ledges and surveyed the area with a quick sweep of my eyes and a quick breath of air. There had been no residing dragons here the last time I had payed a visit, but that had been nearly four years ago.

All looked okay. Not as though any predators of the larger variety had been roaming about, and all I could smell were the faint, welcoming traces of sheep, yak and chicken. Less welcoming were the stronger scents of wild felines that I guessed could be a potential threat to the human who like me, had just added himself to the total population of the island.

My human, I thought a moment before I rose gracefully into the air, taking care not to jolt or make any sudden jerks that would send him flying off my back. I supposed the caves I saw earlier would have to be suitable for now to sleep in. At least now I knew that there were no dragons hiding in the books and crannies of the island rocks. Maybe we could relax for a while.

Contemplating how or if I would wake up Hiccup, I began my descent down to the beach.

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AN: 6,907+ words, but I'm still VERY dissatisfied with this opening chapter. Just so you all know, this is probably the first and last time I'll EVER write in First Person's POV, because I'm not used to it and I'm sure it showed. The second chapter should be a little better (this one was so hard to write).

Did I put a little too much detail into the things Hiccup packed? I think I did, and I usually don't, so that's a little strange, but again, the next chapter should be better. Sorry for any errors.

Review, or I'll feel very dejected and probably not feel like updating.

Uploaded 5.30.15