A/N- So, first story ever. I really don't know how this is going to turn out, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Anyways, here is the first chapter in the Elementals series.

Hiccup's POV

This is Berk, a few days north of hopeless and two degrees south of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of misery. My village, in a word sturdy, and it's been here for several generations but every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests. You see most places have mice or mosquitoes, we have…

Dragons.

Most people would leave, not us though we're Vikings; we have stubbornness issues. My name's Hiccup, great name I know. But it's not the worst. Vikings believe a hideous name will frighten off the gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

But enough of the history lesson, I have important work to do.

Ok not really, I'm just an apprentice under Gobber, the blacksmith. I keep the weapons sharp and fix the broken ones. And when there is a dragon attack I'm more busy than a bee in spring. That is if I can get to the smithy. Right turn at the well, up the stairs, and a bright light suddenly fills my vision as I hear a voice.

"Stop!"

The voice is so commanding that I immediately stop just before a Monstrous Nightmare charges past the turn that I was just about to enter. I turn around to see who it was that saved my life … nobody, not a single person around. I shrug my shoulders and add a voice in my head to the steadily growing number of things that make me the exact opposite of a Viking, along with being made of nothing more than bones and gristle, and not being able to wield a hammer, or any kind of reliable weapon for that matter, to save my life.

Running through the path that had just been occupied by the dragon I entered into the fringe of the fight.

"What the heck! Why is the fight always between me and the smithy!"

"Don't worry; I'll guide you through it safely."

There is that freaking voice in my head again. I sighed and moved on. It has already saved by butt once; I guess I can keep trusting it. I dodged my way between dragons, following the voice in my head and slowly making it to the smithy.

"See, I told you that I would get you here safely."

I ignored the voice and entered the workshop where Gobber was already working on a sward that had been almost bent in half.

"Ho, ho, nice of you to join the party. I thought you had been carried off."

"Who, me? Nah, come on I'm way too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all … this."

"Well they need toothpicks don't they?"

Typical Gobber, always berating me for being late. As we banter back and forth I grab a pile of broken weapons that the Vikings had placed on the counter and stumble over to the furnace to melt them so that they can be re-forged into new weapons. I take a peak outside and see three houses being attacked by dragons. All three are burning to the ground, as I said, old village, new houses.

Over by the water casket is Fishlegs, Snoutlout, the twins Rufnutt and Tuffnut, and, I felt my heart skip a beat, Astrid. They each grab a bucket and throw water on the burning houses to try and save at least a few of them. Astrid throws her bucket and just as she turns to face me a fireball explodes behind her. She's so perfect.

"Their job is so much cooler than mine."

I almost get over the counter before I feel Gobber's pincers grab me by the back of my shirt.

"Oh no you don't."

"Come on, let me out please, I need to make my mark."

"You've made plenty of marks all in the wrong places."

"Please just two minutes, I'll kill a dragon, my life will get infinitely better, I might even get a date."

"You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these."

Gobber lifts the weapon in question and a Viking comes up behind him and grabs it out of his hand and throws it at a dragon off in the distance. I hear a crash outside and know that my new invention, three rocks tied together by lengths of rope used to bring down flying dragons without killing anything that they might be holding, is successful. Do I get any credit though, no, so now I'm bringing out my secret weapon.

"Ok, fine, but this will throw it for me."

I pat my newest invention, a giant mobile slingshot that could fling objects at speeds that only the strongest of Vikings could possibly muster. Of course as I pat it, it backfires and hurls a rock straight into one of the Vikings at the counter.

"See, now this right here is what I'm talking about."

"Um, uh, mild calibration issues…"

"Hiccup, if you ever want to get out there to fight dragons you need to stop all, this."

"But you just pointed to all of me."

"Yes, that's it, stop being all of you."

"Oh, y-you sir are playing a dangerous game, keeping this much raw Vikingness contained. There will be consequences!"

"I'll take my chances. Sword, sharpen, now."

One day I'll get out there, because killing a dragon is everything around here. There's Naderheads, Gronkles, Zipplebacks, and Monstrous Nightmares. But what I'm going for is the one dragon that no one has ever killed before. Heck, no one has ever even seen it before. It's black as night and flies around during an attack. It never steals sheep, never shows itself, and never misses, the only sign that it has is the telltale shriek right before it fires. Oh, and its supernova like breath that can demolish even our most powerful catapults in just a few hits. Just then I hear the shriek and watch as the newly installed trebuchet explodes in a concussive blast that could only be from one dragon, the Nightfury.

"Man the fort, Hiccup, they need me out there. Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean, yahhh!"

"Grab that contraption of yours and go, now. There's no telling when that thing will strike next and you need to be ready when it does. Go, don't worry the fight is winding down anyway they won't need new weapons. This is your time."

I look at my invention, the voice was right, this is my time. And anyway it had never steered me wrong in the ten minutes that I had known it.

"I'm a guy, by the way."

Correction, in the ten minutes that I had known him. I grab my invention and wheel it out of the smithy and head to the bluff that gives me the best view of the trebuchet, or at least what is left of it. I set up my invention and wait.

"Be patient it will attack again."

"Voice, I can do this."

"Oh, right, sorry … on your right now!"

I aim right and pull the trigger just as the concussive blast from the Nightfury throws me backwards. I get up and listen as I hear the Nightfury get caught in the ropes and cry out. I see a dark shape falling into the woods somewhere.

"I hit it! Yes I hit it, did anybody see that?"

"Yes, I did now run!"

I heard a crunch behind me and look around to see a Monstrous Nightmare standing on my invention.

"Anyone but you."

I turn around running and screaming as the Nightmare charges after me. The voice in my head keeps yelling at me to go faster. Eventually it says something useful and tells me to hide behind one of the torch towers that we use to light up the night sky during dragon raids. When I do the Nightmare breaths out a river of liquid fire, and I am only saved by the breaker that the pole has now become.

"Alright, quickly, go left around the pole and to the alleyway."

I try to follow the voice but my feet won't move.

"Now is not the time to become paralyzed by fear."

Suddenly the chief of the tribe jumps at the Nightmare that was just about to take a bite out of me. The Nightmare tries the liquid ire trick again, but all he manages is a small squirt of lava, he was out of juice. The chief, who's name is Stoic, began punching the dragon with his bare fists and after a few hits the Nightmare flies off.

"Whoa, who is that guy?"

The pillar that I had hid behind burnt all the way through and fell down, detaching the actual torch on top and having it roll down through the village, almost crushing people, destroying houses, and setting a group of Naderheads free from their net carrying the last of our flock of sheep with them. Well voice, your about to get your answer.

"Sorry, dad."

"Oh … were in trouble aren't we."

"Ok, but I hit a Nightfury."

Dad grabs me and begins to haul me over to Gobber.

"It's not like the last few times, I mean actually hit it. You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot, it went down just off Raven Point, let's get a search party out there before…"

"Stop! Just stop."

My dad has this booming voice that must come with being almost seven feet tall with a chest the size of a cart, and arms and legs the size of a barrel.

"Every time you step outside disaster falls. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed."

"Between you and me the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?"

"This isn't a joke Hiccup! Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

"I can't stop myself, I see a dragon and I just have to kill it, it's who I am dad."

"You're many things Hiccup, but a dragon killer is not one of them. Get back to the house, and make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up."

My dad hands me off to Gobber and I just follow him as he leads me away towards my home on the fringe of the village near the woods. Completely deflated I don't even have a smart retort for the multitude of people that mock me as if I am being led down the gauntlet. When I had failed I could take it because I knew that I deserved it for not succeeding, but I had actually hit it this time and nobody even listened to me.

"But you did hit it, I know. And it is out there, somewhere, you just have to find it."

Thanks, voice. I think about how proud my dad will be if I actually find that Nightfury that I had brought down. If that happened, then everything would change.

A/N- How was it? Did you like it? I kept close to the storyline… for now. Anyways R&R please, I'm kind of nervous and could really use some help to find any mistakes / make things better.