Hey, everybody! I don't own How To Train Your Dragon, or any of the characters in it. I own my original characters, and this story. Not much of a disclaimer, but whatever. I figured I needed one.

Anyway, I hope you like this story! I figured I'd start at the beginning, about five years before the movie was made...

I hope you like it! Enjoy!

Chapter one
Dart's POV

I coughed and hacked as I fanned the hot steam out of my eyes. There! It's done, I think. I've finally made my first weapon! Well, it's not mine, exactly. I mean, I made it, but it's not for me.

"AUGH, stupid steam!" I heard my voice squeak with excitement. Why do I always sound so little? Stupid kid voice. I guess it can't be helped, really; there's only so much an eight year old girl- well, almost eight, anyway...my birthday is in a couple months- can do to make her voice sound better. Better meaning older and not so babyish.

"Dart, be careful with that!" Brokennose, my mentor said. He sounded annoyed... I don't know why... Okay, so maybe I didn't warn him when I dunked the burning hot piece of metalwork in the bucket of ice cold water. It surprised him.

Oh, well.

"Sorry, Brokennose," I apologized lightly. I wasn't really sorry, of course. Who cares if he got a little steam in his face? Not me. I'm just happy this sword is ready!

I held it up proudly and inspected it. It was plain, solid, and made of regular old iron. But I made it! I spent a whole two weeks preparing for today. The day I finished making my brother's birthday present! And not a moment too soon, either... A day later would have been a day too late.

"Do you think he'll like it?" I ask, my voice sounding so pitiful. I really need to work on that. My huge shaggy haired mentor shrugged his massive shoulders and grunted.

"Meh. I don't know," he said before turning back to the forge. "Why don't you ask Ripper?" I nodded, my several randomly located copper colored braids waving back and forth with the motion. As I ran out to find Brokennose's better half, he called out after me to tell her to bring him his lunch. He didn't say please.

So I decided I wouldn't remember.

I expertly ran through the dreary streets of our village, not bothering to pay attention to my surroundings because I could find my way to Ripper and Brokennose's house with my eyes shut. Their daughter, Alva, is my best friend- okay, so she's my only real friend- and we spend a lot of time running between our houses to play.

I arrive at the rugged wooden building and walk right on in. I never bother knocking here.

"Hey, Ripper! You home?" I called out cheerfully, knowing in a moment she'd answer me with-

Suddenly I was being lifted off my feet and crushed in a big, warm hug.

"Dart! Ya wee thing, wot brings ya here tah-day? Ya know you're missin' trainin', right? Why aren't ya in class with me Alva, now?" Ripper's dark brown curls tickled my face as she spun me around once then put me back on the ground.

"Hi, Ripper," I said. "I'm not skipping class for nothing, see?" I held up the sword I made. "This is what I've been working on! It's for my brother. It's his birthday today." Her face fell a little bit, but I hardly noticed. She smiled encouragingly as she spoke.

"Ah, this is for yer big brother, hah? Well, he's a lucky lad to have such a good little sister."

"So, you think he'll like it then?" I heard my voice crack as surely as I felt my lower lip begin to quiver. Maybe Ripper didn't notice.

"Aye, lass, I think he will," she said softly, a strange, sad look in her eyes for a split second. I must have imagined it because the next think I knew, she was smiling and laughing and pushing me out the door. "Now, git off with ya! It's time wee lasses were in training. You won't get to be a good Viking if you skip, now, will ya?"

I laughed as a I ran away, calling out that I would. Of course, I had no intentions of going to class. I had no desire to go sit in a stupid arena and learn about stupid weapons.

I'm no good with weapons. At least not the kind of weapons my clan likes to use. Crossbows scare me, the swords are all oversized and heavy. I have my own style.

I blow darts. It may not be useful in a fight against a Gronckle or a Deadly Nadder, but it's definitely useful when it comes to messing with the bigger kids.

Alva and I are really small compared to the other kids our age. We are regular hiccups. Not like my big brother! He's strong and popular. But what else would one expect of him? The son of a chief must be the most Vikingest of Vikings.

I ran along, asking people if they had seen my brother.

"Nope."

"No."

"Uhhhh, no."

"Haven't seen him."

"No."

"Have you tried the arena?"

"Aren't you supposed to be in class, young lady?" Uh, oh. I thought, I should probably get out of the village before someone sends me straight to the arena. Wouldn't want that.

One of the older girls who is my brother's age told me he had been talking about going hunting earlier. He had been bragging about how today was the day, and he was going to prove to everyone how strong he was, and blah blah blah.

"Thanks, Wisteria!" I called as I made a beeline for the woods. I knew he had to be in there somewhere, if he really were hunting.

A couple hours later and I was wandering around deep in the woods. My big brother was nowhere to be found. I was beginning to wonder if he was simply at home, or training in the arena, or flirting with a couple of the local girls. I knew I'd rather be anywhere than here...

The truth is I was lost.

"Helloooo?" I called out, annoyed that I had gotten myself into this mess. I'm only eight- well, almost, but who cares?- and I'm small for my age. I have a tiny knife of my own, my darts, and my brother's birthday sword. Other than that, I'm completely defenseless.

"Way to be optimistic, Dart," I murmured to myself. "You really are hopeless." Suddenly I heard a noise coming from deeper in the woods. I whirled around and faced the sound, holding my breath and wondering what it could be.

A wild boar. A Gronckle. Maybe a Hideous Zippleback. It could be any of a number of dangerous beasts, really. With my luck it couldn't possibly be anything not-dangerous, like, I don't know, a sheep. But a girl can dream, right?

"Please be a sheep, please be a sheep," I begged the gods for mercy, but since I figured I wouldn't be getting any I pulled a dart off my belt and got it ready. I held it up, hand shaking, and stared into the trees, just waiting.

Crash, crash, crash... I could hear something big running through the woods. Then I heard the cries of an angry dragon. I got really nervous then. I thought, It sounds like a-

I had to wait to finish that thought, because suddenly my brother came running out of the trees and kept on running. As he passed me I started to call out his name, but it came out in a wordless scream when a Deadly Nadder appeared in front of me.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!" I fell to the ground and let my single dart fly, and it flew straight into the creature's neck. It was the dragon's turn to scream, and it launched itself over my head...

Straight at my brother, who was just standing there, a spear held limply in his hands as his whole life flashed before his eyes. The dragon landed on top of him and he let out a bloodcurdling scream.

I closed my eyes and curled up into a pitiful little ball, and waited for the inevitable pain of spikes piercing my skin and sharp teeth tearing into my flesh.

After the initial moment of horror had passed, I realized I was not dead. I also realized that it was way too quiet.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw that the dragon was still. I hesitantly stepped forward, then shrank back with a loud cry when it began to move.

"AUGH!" I stumbled and landed on my backside.

"Ugh, Dirt, you idiot, it's just me," my brother groaned, roughly pushing the dead dragon off of him. He stood up, staring at the broken spear shaft he held in his hands. "This is dad's spear. He's going to kill me! This is all your fault, Dirt!" I defiantly glared at him.

"My name is DART," I grumbled. "And it's not my fault you broke Dad's spear. I've been looking for you all day!"

"Whatever," he said, brushing himself off and stretching his sore muscles. "I've been hunting. Today is the day I prove myself and kill my very first dragon!" I stared at him blankly. Wow, is he dumb.

"Uh, Dagur, you do realize you just did, right?" I asked him, pointing at the Nadder's carcass. His blue eyes bulged and his jaw dropped.

"Odin, I've DONE it! Haha!" He hollered and brandished the broken spear. "The mighty Dagur struck down the fiery beast, and-"

"Actually, I struck down the fiery beast. I shot it in the neck with one of my darts. That's when it fell on you," I said, not being able to help myself. I mean, I helped, hadn't I? Doesn't that mean I should get some credit, too? Dagur didn't seem to think so.

"Silence, Dirt! Stupid kid," he growled, pushing me back. "I killed the Nadder. I DID. You were just wandering lost in the woods, and I saved your sorry butt. Didn't I?" I picked myself up off the ground and stupidly tried to argue.

"Dagur, I-"

"SHUT UP!" He towered over me and screamed. I felt smaller than ever as he began to rant and rage... I hated it when he did this. Which was more often than not. He's insane... Or, as his title declares, Deranged.

"I am the mighty hunter, the conquering warrior, the dragon-slaying Viking Dagur the Deranged!" He spit as he talked. He was practically foaming at the mouth. Disgusting. "I defeated this Deadly Nadder SINGLEHANDEDLY. And if you EVER say that I WASN'T the killer of this stupid reptile, I'll CUT YOU. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?" I nodded. I want going to say anything. After all, I reasoned with myself in my head, it is his birthday.

"Yes, Dagur, yes. I promise, I won't say anything. You killed it, you did. My dart didn't help at all. Actually, I think maybe I missed..." He turned his back on me and faced the body of the dragon.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and let me think." I shut up and he thought. Out loud, as usual. "When Dad hears I killed a dragon today, he'll have to let me graduate training early. Then I can go hunting with him, and go with him in raids, and he'll have to lay attention to me. Come on, brat, let's go."

"Hey, Dagur," I said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling on it. "Nobody is going to believe you killed a dragon. You're always telling everybody you killed one, and you can never prove it. You're always lying." He got mad again, of course, when I pointed this out.

"But this time I really DID kill a dragon!" I nodded again, trying to calm him down and explain.

"Yeah, I know that, and you know that. But no one else does. You're going to have to show them the body to prove it!" I was proud of myself. I could tell Dagur could see the wisdom in what I was saying.

"I see your point, Dart," he said. He called me Dart! I almost couldn't believe it. I was so deliriously happy that he had used my name that I barely registered the next thing he said. "So, I'll go get Dad and the elders. You stay here and guard the body." He turned and began to walk away. I stared at him blankly for a moment, then realized what was happening.

"WAIT!" I yelled, running after him. "You're just going to leave me here? Are you serious?" He couldn't. I hated being out after dark anywhere, and this was the WOODS!

"I'm dead serious, little girl," he sneered, grabbing me and dragging me over to the body. He forcefully pushed me down to the ground, and smacked me on the side of the head.

"Ow! Dagur, please! Don't leave me here! I don't even have any real weapons... Well, except for this, but..." I held up my little knife, tears forming in my blue eyes. He stared at it, then his eyes moved to my waist.

"You have a sword, idiot. That's a weapon." He saw his present! Well, now is as good a time as any to give it to him, I thought.

"No, Dagur," I said, standing up and holding the gift out. "This is-" He grabbed it and looked at it disdainfully. It looked so small in his hands...

"You're right. This isn't a real weapon." He sounded disgusted and he threw it aside without blinking. "It's scrap metal! Why would you carry around such a piece of trash? Never mind. Here's my crossbow." He threw it down at my feet and reached into his quiver for some bolts. "These are the bolts. There are only a few left, but it would do for now. I'm going. Don't go anywhere."

I was speechless. He hated it. He hated the sword I made for him. And he was leaving me alone in a dangerous place. I mean, I always knew Dagur was irresponsible, but...

"You're being mean," I whispered tearfully. He whirled around.

"WHAT did you just say!?" I shook my head so hard my copper colored braids hit me in the face. It stung, but I didn't care so much about that anymore.

"Nothing, Dagur," I sniffed. "Just please hurry back."

"Whatever, Dirt. Just don't you dare leave. Or else." And then he was gone.

And I was left alone to cry to my poor little heart's content.

So there's my first chapter. I hope you liked it. Dagur has a little sister named Dart. She's a cutie, with blue eyes, reddish brown hair, and fair skin. She's got freckles, too. She's small for her age. She's one of the youngest kids in the village.

And now she's lost and alone in dragon-infested woods.

Next chapter, read on as Dart makes a life-changing discovery... Can you say "baby dragon"? But what kind?

No, not a Night Fury. Sorry, buddy. (You know who you are.)

Anywaaaayyyy, stay tuned! Read and review, people! :D