This fan-fiction takes place during the the first movie this is cannon and does not follow the movie plot.
Disclaimer I do not own characters in this novel all original characters are created by me. This novel is also mature with violence with a some what realistic fighting. Any questions for me? Send them my way i love feedback and ideas.
This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless and a few 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 seven 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. But not us. We're Vikings. We have stubbornness issues. My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that. That's Stoick the Vast, Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. Do I believe it? Yes, I do and even if you don't believe me he is well my father. Yet their is a difference between me and the rest of this village and that is one thing. I'm not going to die here.
"DRAGONS!" The loud scream made me roll over in my sleep. I'm used to screaming well you have to be in my position. You may ask "Well why is that Hiccup?" and ill tell you. Picture a viking no wait a dragon killing viking village. Let me guess huge men with massive axes long thick beards, badass scars who seem to be shaped by Odin himself with muscles bulging through armour. Are you wrong? No berk is filled to the brim with those vikings but me... well think of a twig who stands about 5 foot 6 with messy brown shaggy hair with brown eyes abit of a crooked nose and freckles that cover his upper cheeks with a feminine build to his body. Underwhelmed? Trust me i don't blame you. Now to finish this work of art remember my father Stoick The Vast? Chief of the entire tribe. Yea him well go back to the original thought you had about a bad-ass viking because yes that is my father. Now think how much he must love me as a son if you catch my drift. I would love to get into more detail but with the smell of smoke filling my nose it appears its time to wake up.
My eyes opened and opened my mouth and regret doing so instantly. My eyes bulged slightly a I rolled off my bed hitting the floor and cough painfully pushing the smoke from my lungs as tears start to form in my eyes as I look up and see the yellow and orange fire licking the frame of my door and all I can do is sigh and get up covering my mouth with my hand. I look back and grab the bucket full of water next to my bed splash the water over the fire eating away at the entrance of my room. I quickly move through the door with my bucket still in hand as I rush down the stairs and out the open door of my house and see the same sight I'v seen countless times. Dragons flying, vikings screaming and swinging axes wildly, buildings burning. Home sweet home or well should I say hot crazy mess of a home.
"Hiccup glad to see your awake and alive now get a move on there are weapons that need to be sharpened lad!"
"Yea dad I'm on it." I say as my father shoots by and when I mean shoot by well I mean it. I watch as he wrestles with a Monstrous Nightmare punching its snout and quickly moving out of the way of its fangs as he aims it towards a large rock which it hits with a large crack. I turn and run towards the forge because not only is it the safest place to stay at the moment its also where my father make me work or in truth stay out of trouble but for me I'm not searching for trouble... I'm creating it for one reason. To Escape berk.