"Dragon raid!"

The cries were all too familiar. The indistinct shouts of men rose as weapons were raised to clash with the fire-breathing beasts they called their mortal enemy. Fire met shield and dragon met man in a ferocious clash of claw and axe.

Astrid Hofferson was no different in this raid. The young shieldmaiden of twenty-two hoisted her axe above her head and stared right into the eyes of an approaching Nadder. Letting a guttural war cry rip from her throat, the young woman raised her axe and met the intruding dragon with every strike. She countered the Nadder's tail spikes with slashes of her own, attempting to lodge her axe deep into its pale belly. Finally, she heard the distinct sound of flesh giving way to metal, and the squawk of pain from the Nadder. She could see thick dragon blood beginning to spill out of the cut. Forcing back a grimace, Astrid spun around and charged back into battle.

"Astrid!" The young blonde turned around to meet the eyes of her chief, Stoick the Vast. His thick auburn beard had grayed with age and ever growing worry for the village of Berk.

"Yes chief?" she asked, meeting his green eyes. Stoick gripped the handle of his axe tightly.

"I need ya ta stay with the children," he said in his deep, throaty growl, nodding his head back towards the Kill Ring. "I put them in the Kill Ring. Hurry, lass." Astrid nodded to her chief, before taking off running towards the metal pen.

She passed Snotlout grappling with a Gronckle, grunting in effort as he swung his battle axe around. His eyes snapped over to where Astrid was running, and visibly began to fight harder against his rocky opponent. "Hey babe!" he called, giving her a cheesy smile while she ran past him. Even after all these years, the Jorgenson was still intent in his pursue of her hand. Astrid rolled her eyes, clutching her battle axe tighter and breaking into a dead sprint. She slowed to a stop in front of the heavy wooden doors that provided entry into the Kill Ring. She grunted, pulling the doors open to find a dozen five year olds clustered together, looking terrified and well...un-Vikinglike. Astrid sighed, lowering her axe and ushering the kids into one of the old dragon pens.

"Stay here," she ordered, looking directly at the oldest child, six year old Eirik Asketill. Eirik gave her a scared nod, terror masking his features. Astrid turned back towards the entrance, pressing the children back against the wall as a Zippleback landed on the caged roof and began to peer inside. She narrowed her eyes, waiting for the familiar stench of Zippleback gas and the spark that would end her life.

You see, Berk had been much different less than a decade ago. Eight years, to be in fact. The dragon raids were more frequent now, and definitely more deadly. The village of Berk didn't get the normal dragons either. Sure, there were Zipplebacks and Gronckles and Nightmares, but dragons not even found in the Book had arrived. Of course, eight years is a long time. Back then, Stoick still had a son. His name was Hiccup Haddock, or Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. He wasn't like other Vikings - nothing about him screamed 'Viking'. He was a scrawny boy with his dad's famous auburn hair and striking green eyes. He preferred reading to fighting, and often stayed at the forge, always working on some new, crazy invention. Hiccup was awkward and clumsy, and a mess always seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Astrid preferred to stay in the background and watch the other teens as they messed around with the young Haddock. Now, all Astrid had were memories. Hiccup had disappeared eight years ago. Stoick had given up one year of his life trying to look for his son, but he was never found. Most Vikings just assumed he had been carried off by a dragon and eaten. And Astrid? Well, she didn't know what to believe. But the memories were clear.

Eight Years Ago:

"Hiccup!" Astrid shouted, both hands firmly clenching her battle axe. She had never been one to talk to, or about the Haddock boy. In fact, she hated associating herself with anyone even remotely related to him.

Fourteen year old Astrid Hofferson marched her way towards Haddock Hall, a scowl twisting her features. She stopped in front of the door of her chief's house, hands clenching tighter around her poor axe handle. She raised her axe, about to strike the door down, before hesitating, thinking better than to destruct her chief's door. The Hofferson girl then lowered her axe and knocked, three sharp raps that meant business. She waited, a fog of her own breath coming out in the chilly evening air. No answer. Grumbling about useless Haddocks, she knocked again. Again she waited, standing as patiently as she could in the middle of her anger-induced rampage. No answer. Having waited enough and her patience worn thin, Astrid kicked the door open to reveal an eerily silent house.

"Hiccup!" she shouted into the dark room. No one answered her call. "Hiccup Haddock!" she tried again. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third!" she shouted. "Who do you think you are, you son of a half-troll? If you weren't the chief's son, I would strangle you right now!" Strangely yet, no answer came from the house. Gritting her teeth, Astrid found her way into the back room, expecting a cowering Hiccup hiding beneath his bed. Instead, the room was strangely empty, clean and organized beyond a usual Viking's standards. Her eyes caught a sheet of paper nailed to Hiccup's desk, and she picked it up, noting the curious red stain at the bottom of the page.

It was addressed to Stoick.

Not being able to help herself, Astrid unfurled the letter and began to read.

"Dear Father,

It pains me that I have to write this through a letter to you. I know Astrid is looking for me, and if you are reading this, Astrid, I need you to give this letter to my Dad.

Anyways, carrying on. Dad, do you remember that night of the dragon raid, when I went against yours and Gobber's orders? I remember I told you I had shot down a Night Fury, but you didn't believe me. Turns out, I was right. That Night Fury landed somewhere near Raven's Point, and I found him.

And me, being the stupid Viking I am, I decided to free him. Yeah yeah, I know what you're going to say. "Hiccup Haddock! How could you let that dragon go free? You could've killed him right then and there!" I don't know why I did it. But I did. And that dragon let me go free too. Dad, he didn't kill me.

I don't have much time. I can almost feel him, prowling at the edges of Berk and entering my nightmares. I know he's here. You always said that a chief protects his own - so that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to kill that Night Fury and bring his heart back and I -"

The letter stopped short, leaving Astrid to guess what had happened next.

Horror wasn't a feeling that the Hofferson girl felt often. She prided herself in being indifferent, stone faced and stone hearted so that in the face of her mortal enemy, she would not weaken and betray her village. And yet, right now, intruding in her chief's house and reading the last thing he had of his son, she felt horrified. And so she ran, clutching her axe and letter in hand as she bolted out of Haddock Hall and right into Stoick.

"Chief!" she gasped, bowing down slightly. Stoick raised one eyebrow.

"What were you doing in my house?" he asked gruffly, peering down at her with his striking green eyes. Astrid couldn't meet his gaze.

"I was looking for Hiccup," she lied through her teeth. "And he wasn't answering. I felt as if something was wrong so I went in and I found this letter in his room." Okay, it wasn't really a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth - though Astrid thought if she wanted to save her own skin she wouldn't include how she wanted to strangle Stoick's son. Stoick's eyebrows went up, before reaching a hand out to take the letter from Astrid. Not bothering to see his reaction, Astrid slid past the dumbfounded chief and bolted back to Hofferson Hall.

Of course, that was eight years ago. Astrid had forced the memories into the very back of her mind and focused on keeping her village safe, like she had sworn to do as a shieldmaiden. Shaking herself, she got into a battle stance and waited for the Zippleback to spot her and the clustered group of shaking children. Instead, the two headed monster turned away and began to fly, reaching the clouds and disappearing.

It was silent.

Astrid couldn't hear anymore angry shrieks or roaring dragons. Knowing the signs of the end of a dragon raid, she crept out, and motioned for the children to follow her. Opening the wooden doors of the Kill Ring, she helped each child out and waited for them to find their parents, leaning casually on her battle axe.

"Hey babe," Snotlout grinned, approaching her. Astrid scowled at him.

"Not now, Snotlout," she snapped. "Not ever, in fact," she added as an afterthought. Snotlout laughed, and Astrid shook her head. The Jorgenson boy was famous for his brawn and thick skull, and Astrid knew she would never be able to get the idea of courting her out of his head. Instead, she resorted to punching and strangling him, seeing as violence had always come to her rescue in situations like these.

"Astrid." Her attention was diverted by Fishlegs, followed by Ruffnut and their two year old daughter, Woodnut. Fishlegs and Ruffnut have been happily married for five years. Ruffnut was expecting her second child with Fishlegs, and the large man was hoping desperately for a little boy. Tuffnut, Ruffnut's twin, is engaged to a girl named Sigrid from the Bog Burglars. They had hooked up one summer when the Bog Burglars had came to Berk, and Tuff had been obsessed with the woman since. Astrid nodded at the large man.

"Hey 'Legs," she greeted. "What's up?" she asked. Fishlegs smiled at her. He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again.

"Hey chief," he said instead, gaze reaching over Astrid's shoulder. He smiled nervously at the intimidating man. Stoick regarded Fishlegs with a long look, before simply nodding and turning his attention to Astrid.

"Well done with the kids, lass," he said in his heavy accent. "Gudrud gives her regards, and said that young Eirik is thankful." Astrid offered her chief a smile.

"Anything for the village, chief," she replied, dipping her head.


Meanwhile, half a world away...

"Come on bud," The young man patted the black reptile under him. "Want to give it another go?" He asked. Large, bright green eyes came up to stare at him. The reptile let out a grunt of protest, eyes wide. "Toothless, it'll be fine," the man said. "One last time? I promise you extra fish tonight." Toothless's tongue lolled out, flapping in the wind, as if giving his assent. "Okay bud, you got it!"

The two pushed into a steep dive. Wind whistled past them, and a harmonic screech seemed to take up around the black bullet as it shot towards the ground at breakneck speeds. The man laughed, a deep, rich sound that joined the reptile's harmonic wail.

"Aeolus!"

Toothless shrieked, throwing out his wings at the mention of his rider's name. Aeolus, his rider, let out a small yelp at the sudden change in force, clinging to Toothless's back as he stabilized the two. The melodic hum that had encased the two stopped, and all Aeolus could hear was the sound of wingbeats pushing on air. Composing himself, Aeolus fixed his helmet before turning to face the voice that had interrupted his ride.

"Could you not scare me like that?" he pleaded, dusting himself off as the dragon carried his rider back to the main bridge. All he got was a laugh in reply.

"Aeolus, how many times do I need to remind you of the times you've put dragon dung in my shoes?" Aeolus grinned at the voice.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, taking his helmet off and letting his auburn hair out. Another laugh came from behind him as a slim girl with brown hair came to stand beside the twenty two year old man. "Now come on, Callistro, or else Queen Aeliana will have our heads!" Aeolus returned to his dragon's back and Callistro mounted her dragon. "Come on, bud," he whispered to his dragon. Toothless slapped Aeolus with his ear, before taking off and returning to the marble castle that sat at the top of Dragon Hill.

The two landed in the bustling North Wing, handing their dragons off to the stable hands and walking down a long hallway to their chambers.

"Aeolus," Callistro said, after a moment's hesitation. "I understand that you've never liked to share about your past before, but perhaps...perhaps us Guards could help you more if you would share with us what is happening." Aeolus stiffened at the mention of his dark history. He sighed, knowing that his Guards had the right to know of his past.

"I will tell you," he said, voice straining. "But...I don't feel ready. I think this is something I want to share with myself - at least for now." Callistro gave him a pained smile.

"Aeolus, we understand," she said gently. "But we still want to know." The man gave her a nod, indicating he had no wish to further the conversation. Dropping her disappointed gaze away, the woman walked off, retiring to her chambers. Aeolus stared after her, biting his lip, before closing the door to his own room.