"17 scars!" said Snotlout. "17 scars, and that's only on my left leg! Which is more than Hiccup can say." He shot a smug look over at Hiccup, who in turn looked down at what was left of his leg.

"Well," Hiccup lifted up his peg leg, "this is kind of my leg now, so…" He began counting all the nicks and scratches on the metal.

"Shut up, Hiccup," grumbled Snotlout.

The young Vikings were all sitting around the fire in the Great Hall, and, at the twins' request, had spent the last five minutes counting scars. So far, Tuffnut was in the lead with 84, and his twin was in close second with 80. Snotlout came third with 77, then Astrid with 69, and then there was Fishlegs, who came in dead last with a whopping 12 scars.

Hiccup still didn't understand why it was so cool to have scars, so he hadn't really been participating until now, just to be funny.

"Come on, Hiccup," said Astrid. "How many scars do you really have?"

"You know what," said Hiccup, "a scar is just something left to remind you of blood and pain. I mean, there's nothing that makes me think 'fun' or 'awesome' when Astrid punches me."

Astrid punched his arm.

"OW! You see? He pulled up his sleeve to reveal numerous bruises (mostly from Astrid) and… a scar, one that went all the way from his elbow to just below his shoulder.

"Whoa," said Astrid.

"None of mine are that good!" whined Ruffnut.

"I want that," Tuff gasped.

Snotlout just grunted.

"What did that?" asked Fishlegs.

"Dagger," Hiccup answered simply.

"Who threw it?" asked Astrid.

"Dagur," said Hiccup.

"Yeah," said Snotlout, "but who threw the dagger?"

"I told you, Dagur! Do you remember that kid, red hair, he was kind of, um…"

"Oh for Thor's sake, Hiccup," Astrid cut him off. "Stop trying to be so nice. You know, that little Loki-spawn who burned down the Great Hall."

"Which Great Hall?" asked Tuffnut.

"You know, the one one we're inside of. Right now." Hiccup said.

"Ohhhhh," Tuff nodded knowingly. "This Great Hall."

"Of course," snapped Snotlout. "There's only one Great Hall, muttonhead."

"Okay," said Astrid. "So how'd it happen?"

"Um, he threw it." Hiccup looked blank.

"Well obviously," Snotlout sneered, "but what were the events that led up to it?"

"Yeah!" the others chimed in. The twins began chanting, "Story, story, story…"

"There's no story," said Hiccup defensively. "Why does there have to be a story?"

Astrid spoke up. "Okay, guys, if Hiccup doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to."

"Thank you, Astrid." Hiccup stood up to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go do…stuff." But Astrid jumped up and blocked his way. "Oh come on, Astrid! I thought you were on my side!"

"What? You didn't really think I would want to pass up a good story, did you?" Astrid smugly replied.

"Toothless, back me up here, bud."

The Night Fury, who'd been sleeping, walked over to Hiccup and flopped down on top of his rider, knocking him to the ground.

"Oof! Thanks a lot, Toothless."

Toothless gurgled a dragon laugh, and let Hiccup stand up, but only to find himself being shoved back into his seat by Snotlout.

"Come on, it can't be that bad," Astrid urged.

Hiccup looked around at the group, all of which were staring expectantly at him, except for the twins, who were making puppy dog eyes. "Fine." He saw that he wasn't going to get out of it, and smiled slightly. "But I was only nine, so you can't make fun of me…"