I dunno where I came up with this but here yah go! It takes place about a year after the war so there might be some feels involved.

Rating: K+ (might be some descriptive images but I'm just gonna play on the safe side.)

Pairing: Not much, but mainly Hiccup/Camicazi

The still night air blew through the tall dark towers of Grimbeard's castle. The castle was completely dark, it's still presence sending an eerie vibe through the island of Tomorrow where the castle stood. The castle had changed of course, it was not the same dark blood strained horror that Grimbeard had left it. The castle was normally full of life, merchants and servants bustling through. A happy chatter filling the now silent halls, but at night the castle was different. At night the castle seemed to revert back to the cold sadness and hardship of the war that had raged the lands only a year ago, its silent halls once again showing blood stains, the grounds once again depicting the violence that had taken place there.

But tonight, tonight the castle was different. Tonight a small light flickered from the top of the tall west tower. It was a small change, but even the small illumination brightened the looming monument. The light of the tower flickered on and off, occasionally disappearing for a moment or so, as its carrier moved to a different part of the room that hid the light from onlookers. But the light would always return

Far up in the west tower a small boy sat, his left hand running fluidly over the sheets of parchment that adorned the desk of the large room. A small candle sat next to him atop the desk, the wax from the candle had nearly burned down, the remnants of the candle burned softly letting off just the faintest of glows that allowed the boy to just barely see the yellow parchment that sat before him.

A large bed sat in the middle of the room next to a small fireplace that remained dark despite the cold night. Atop the bed sat two small dragons, a brown one curled around one of the bed posts, he looked much older than the other dragon, his brown skin wrinkled from his many years. The other dragon slept on top of the large pillow that adorned the bed, this dragon was much younger, with bright green scales, and devilish green eyes. Though his eyes were currently closed in exhaustion, a faint smoke drifted from his nose as he snored on through the cold night.

The boy smiled faintly as he glanced back at the two sleeping dragons, only wishing he could sleep as easy, but his mind would not allow it. Tonight had been the end of the war exactly a year ago, tonight he had both gained and lost a friend. Tonight his arch enemy, Alvin the Treacherous had perished and for the first time, stayed dead. Tonight had been the night he had gained his crown. Tonight had been the night Fishlegs had gained him his crown.

Sometimes he wished that he had remained away from war entirely. But if he did that the two sleeping dragons would not be here with him. But his mind informed him, Snotlout would be.

The boy grimaced at the very idea of Snotlout's death, struggling to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek. It had been his fault hadn't it? Snotlout had risked his life for him, and so had many others. How many others had died because of him that he didn't even know? He didn't want to know.

No wonder no one had wanted him as a king. How many people were sitting here just as he was, missing someone who had died in the war, his war? Probably many more than he could even imagine. He stifled a sob, WHY?

The idea had come to him before but never like this, WHY?

Why him? Why this archipelago? Why Snotlout? Why Camicazi? Why Fishlegs? Why Toothless? Why anyone?

Why?

He shuddered as he remembered Camicazi's defiant voice as she was thrown in a box and sunk into a sea of Winter-Fleshers to get him to give away the Dragonmarker's location. "Don't give up, Hiccup! I'll be alright! I always am!"

He remember the jeers as Fishlegs gave him the lobster claw necklace, he how everyone had turned their backs, he remembered Camicazi's half turn. But Fishlegs hadn't turned. Fishlegs came forward, "I do not turn!" he called out to the crowd, his weak figure pushing through the crowd of muscular Vikings, far bigger than himself to reach Hiccup. He remembered the Witch's shriek of outrage as Fishlegs placed the lobster claw necklace around Hiccup's neck. "Hiccup is still my king!" Fishlegs had called.

And now Hiccup really was king, wasn't he? And all because of Fishlegs. All because of Fishlegs and Camicazi, he was here.

Camicazi had never stopped looking. Even after everyone had said that Hiccup was dead, even after everyone told her she was wrong. She had been right after all hadn't she? She had still believed in him.

Hiccup smiled, through tears were still pouring down his face. Whether from happiness or sadness he wasn't sure. He was so glad the war was over, he never wanted to see his friends like that again.

A small tear dripped down onto the parchment, smudging the writing. Hiccup laughed as he realized that the writing now resembled something of

"Becoming a Heroteyhudrywa"

Hiccup gazed at the paper, trying to decipher the best way to save the word. Becoming a Hero the…

The what? As he stared, the letters began to flicker and reform themselves, until Hiccup was staring at the words "Becoming a Hero the Hard Way."

He blinked at the words as they returned to their original form. Becoming a Hero the Hard Way?

It seemed strangely fitting. What had Old Wrinkly said, oh so long ago? "Okay, so maybe you're not a natural. Maybe you just have to work at it?"

Becoming a Hero the Hard Way.