How To Train Your Dragon (Fan fiction)

By: OtakuKidXD

Silence on Berk

Summary: Hiccup is a curious kid, but an accident makes him highly neglected in Berk. The other Vikings ignore his existence and the ones that don't just hurt him, so he leaves. Even when he goes missing for weeks, no one notices. The reversed role of human and dragon, Hiccup meets Toothless at age 5, broken leg, and switched roles; Neglect, abuse, and Dragonese speaking Hiccup.

Chapter 1: Enter the life of Silence…

Berk: an island of rocks, cliffs, forests, and the cold. Ocean surrounds my home from all sides according to the maps, no beaches either, just docks and harbors. Daddy doesn't let me go outside the house to explore though, so I've never really seen enough to remember myself what the island looks like. Says it's too dangerous, that I set a house on fire when I was three and couldn't risk having a repeat happen. That I was too curious and would get in too much trouble, like I always had during dragon raids, saying ludicrous things like wanting to help and then at age three, going against orders to stay inside, and accidentally setting a house on fire.

That was the last time that I heard anyone's voice.

That was the day that the village started to shun me and my curiosity.

It wasn't my fault though. How was I supposed to know that the dragons could breathe fire? Or that my furry boots could catch it? Or that running didn't always help and that straw was extremely flammable, same as wood? No one would let me see the dragons or read the books about them. They all said that I would get too curious and wouldn't even tell me stories about the creatures, that if given even a scale of dragon information that I would follow the trail back to the dragon just to get eaten alive searching for information because of my curiosity. That even speaking about anything at all to me would get me curious about something that I shouldn't be sticking my nose into.

So for some reason, they thought it best to never give me any information at all, to shut me out of the world and to try to limit my knowledge. The whole village seemed to think that it best after that raid to just not talk to me at all, and by doing that I would never be in search of information if I didn't even know what to look for or think about. They didn't do that to Fishlegs or Astrid or even Snotlout and the twins Ruff and Tuff. No, just me, the 'Hiccup' got locked in his house and never spoken to.

I can't really blame them either though. I was given a book on medicine on my third birth day, just months before I burnt down that house. I thanked the medicine lady but she just brushed me off saying now I could treat my own injuries in the future instead of going to her for every scraped knee. I know she didn't really mean it though, 'cause she ruffled my hair when she said that. Normally that means it's a joke, right? Even though your eyes are hard like Daddy's battle axe, right?

The next day Daddy and I had a stomach ache from the breakfast I made us laced with different plants I had collected from the edge of the forest before Daddy woke up. I probably should have read that book better, but morning was the only time to use the forest and I wanted to surprise Daddy with my fast learning. If he saw me by the forest at all he would have freaked out. Mumbled things like 'can't let them take another from me' and other crazy things like that. I tried to ask him once about that, but he just denied it.

We went to the medicine lady and she looked upset to see me for some reason, but because Daddy was there she looked concerned for both of us. That is until she heard how we got in that state and she scowled at me. We left and I was really happy I hid that medicine book earlier otherwise Daddy might have taken it away. But since he didn't see it out, he didn't make the effort to look for it either and I read it in all my spare time, so that never happens again. Also because I don't think the medicine lady likes me anymore and I think she was serious at my birthday now.

One month before I burned down that house I saw Daddy throwing his battle axe outside, and so the next morning (because Daddy likes to sleep in) I dragged his axe outside even though it took me about half an hour to do because it was so heavy. I tried to lift it like Daddy did yesterday, only for it to be so heavy that I collapsed under the strain, having one of the heavier parts fall and my clamped hand result in my wrist being popped out of place, spraining it. It burned so bad and felt like needles were in my wrist stabbing at the opening so I screamed, my throat hurting afterwards, waking up Daddy and everyone else in ear shot (No one since we live so far away) up from their sleep. He crashed through the door, a knife in his hands, ready to go to battle in his pajamas, only to see me and his favorite battle axe in the front yard. His face got really red in anger when he saw me holding his favorite battle axe. He grabbed my hands, his face still red, and didn't even look back when I yelped in pain over him pulling my bad hand, but he did take me to the healer who looked over me silently before popping my hand back into place and telling Daddy to never wake her up for something so trivial again. He agreed.

One month later, in my curiosity yet again, I went out…

…And burned down a house.

Since that raid, no one talks to me, not even the other kids. Their parents probably told them that they weren't allowed or something. But they still hurt me when given the chance, probably because they could. They were all bigger than me too, so it wasn't that hard for them to trip me or push me or to tie me up in my room an leave me when Daddy invites the other Vikings over for ale while I stay in my room getting tossed about. Good thing they can't tie knots too well and that I am always better at escaping them than they are at tying them, because Daddy doesn't come into my room… ever. Not even if it takes me two days to undo a knot he doesn't come. I don't think Daddy likes me anymore. The adults don't even look at me, not even Daddy, and that hurts.

But he still locks the door on his way out with me inside and locks it again when home. At least the other kids can't get me with the door locked. I'm glad he doesn't lock me in my room. It's boring when your home alone and so I read the books lining the walls that he never reads, always putting them right back where I found them when I hear his steps on the walkway up the house. Though even reading gets boring since I only have to look at it once and I remember it forever. It's so quiet that any noise really is noticeable, from the dripping water on the roof from last nights rain, to the sounds of the stream not far from my house, so it isn't hard to hear Daddy come up to the house, his foot steps are really loud. When I hear them, I rush and put the books away, put everything that even says that I was there away, and rush up to my room. He unlocks the door, closes it, and re-locks it.

But he never checks on me or looks to see if I had been fed. Then again, it's his job to feed me, but he never does so maybe he just forgot? 'Or maybe he just forgot about you and locks the door out of habit like the other Vikings.' I think to myself. 'Maybe it'll get better?' I lie to myself.

But my fourth birthday passes by. I tried to talk to Daddy that day, to tell him that it was my fourth birthday. I regretted that mistake.

He looked like he had seen a ghost, started muttering to himself, something along the lines of 'it's not real. My son wouldn't have looked like that. It's just an illusion. My son's dead, died before he was even born. That's right, he's dead…' and he continued to shut me out, ignored the fact that I was standing right in front of him.

Daddy thought that I was dead. No, that couldn't be right.

I would change that though, there was no way Daddy would think that, right, that I was dead?

"Daddy, what are you saying? I'm right here Daddy. It's me, Hiccup, your son." I pleaded, looking straight into his eyes, or at least trying to, they were so glassy. I hoped that some spark would ignite in them, that some sort of recognition would light up, but there was nothing.

"Daddy, pl-please look a-t me, p-please, just lo-look." I started to cry, my voice breaking in sobs and my little fingers grabbing into his tunic, digging into his left forearm as he sat in his favorite seat. There was a flash in his eyes then, a spark, but not the kind I was hoping for.

He thrust his arm to the side, my grip coming of as my body hit the dinner table in the next room, hurting my back immensely, but not as much as his next words hurt.

"I have no son!" He screamed at me, his face getting redder and redder, "My son would never poison his father, and disobey his orders going into the woods. My son would never touch my axe and if he did, he wouldn't get hurt doing so. And most of all, my son would NEVER be a HICCUP! All I see is a SHAME on the Haddock name, not fit to live in the village, needing to be locked up 'till nature takes its course banished for even being a Hiccup. Thank your dead mother, she's the only reason I didn't kill you when you were born so little. But I am not your 'Daddy'; you are no son of mine." He sneers at me making his point that he doesn't want me in his life.

He lifted himself out of his chair and left me there, left me on the cold stone floor as the tears streamed down my face. I heard the crack of both the door and my heart as he slammed the door closed and locked it. Those were the first words I had heard since the raid, and the last words I had heard since. Who knows how long I sat there, minutes, hours, it didn't matter. My heart was shattered. My Daddy hated me. I'm a Hiccup. I'm not good enough to be his son. I'm a Hiccup. All my attempts to help so that I could be like him and help in the raids, even if I didn't know what they were, were for nothing. I'm a Hiccup. I was a shame on my family name. I'm a Hiccup.

The only thing I heard other than these thoughts was the sound of the door opening, slamming shut, locking, and my father's footsteps past me, not even acknowledging my existence. Why?

I'm a Hiccup my thoughts tell me, coming to a conclusion. Vikings are strong, and the village is strong and I'm. Just. A. Hiccup: A Mistake. Something that the village and my Da-Stoick have no need or want for. I'm just something that they'd rather forget. Then I'll make their wish come true some day. I'll leave, but not without the knowledge I may need. After all, if I'm not strong like them, then I'll need some other way to survive, and what better way than with the thing that they all ignore me for anyways. I'll survive with my knowledge, my curiosity, and my soon to be skills. I won't leave until I have every book in this whole house memorized and practiced. I'll leave, and I'll learn. And if I can't leave Berk, then I'll live in the forests, away from the village and away from Stoick. I'll go the first moment I can, as soon as I can.

That was one year ago…

The next year, after learning everything in the house, after practicing and mastering everything in every book, and putting all wildlife, dragon-life ('though I'll wait to see them and interact before making any sort of judgment on them other than their looks and abilities. The Vikings got me wrong so it's not too much of a stretch that they could have done the same to the dragons too'), crafting ability, botany, toxicology, medicinal skills, and other skills like weaponry into my photographic memory, packing up all my hand made tools and putting all my 'new life equipment' (empty wooden canisters, knives, needles, arrows, bow, medicinal plants, preserved food, wire, thread, fur blanket, small tarp and one change of clothes including a tunic) on my person and in my leather bag that straps across my chest, I prepare the drugs for tonight. Tonight is the night that Stoick would bring people over for a drink. Tonight is the night that he didn't lock the door because there were too many people for me to sneak past and I lived to high to jump out of my window to escape from. Tonight is the night that they all think that they passed out from intoxication and tonight is the night that I gained freedom.

My name is Hiccup, no last name anymore. I have reddish brown hair, green eyes, and a wiry frame from my year of work and am both skinny and short. I am five years old and I have no parents, one being dead and the other being dead to me, and I make everything for myself, from the food I eat, to the clothes that I wear (all furs and leather that I steal from Stoick's closet when he's not home from the bottom of his chest and from whatever furs he throws away whenever he buys new blankets for himself (but not for the Hiccup of course. He gets the old stuff from when he was three.)) that covers my back, arms, and legs in fur and the rest of me in leather, including a hood that still has the wolf ears attached. My feet are protected in thick leather boots that go under my furs and wrap around my calves, but can easily be resized for when I grow older and my hands have the same in leather gloves that go onto my forearms. The winter is just ending and if I want to last the next, then it's best to go out and keep all my winter gear. After all, the summers weren't that great either and they'll help with sleeping.

Seeing that I have everything that I need and hearing Stoick slam and lock the door on his way out, I go to my dresser and grab a canister of the tasteless, odorless, and completely fool proof drug and then head out of my room and into the kitchen to where all the mead and ale is kept. Swiftly opening them and pouring in enough to knock out a timberjack into each beverage, I close them back up and wait in my room, counting down the minutes until freedom and going over everything to make sure that nothing is forgotten. For you never knew just what would save you someday.