Disclaimer: I don't own it, and even though I wish I did, we all know it probably won't happen. Just as well that I've gotten used to it.
It had been just passed dawn when she'd started out, but it was nearing midday now and still no sign of the dragon. Hiccup sighed and scratched out the map she'd drawn in her journal, covered with X's for the spots she'd already searched. "The gods hate me," she muttered to herself as she shut her book and tucked it into her belt for safekeeping. "Some people lose a knife or a mug. Not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon." In a fit of frustration, she knocked a branch out of her way only to have it snap back and hit her in the face. Both hands flew to the injury, but quickly dropped when she realized that it felt worse than it was. A little swollen, but it wouldn't bruise and at least it wasn't bleeding.
She looked up at the branch, surely controlled by Loki, only to gasp as she realized that the tree it was attached to had snapped close to the bottom. Her gaze fell to the forest floor, and she realized she was standing in a groove cut into the loam beneath her feet, leading from where she stood to the bottom of the hill and partway up the next. Moving carefully, hoping and praying she was close, she crept her way closer to the next hill, only to drop before she reached the top.
There, looking like it was waiting for her to find it, lay the dragon. Its scales were as dark as the night sky, shining somehow in the diffuse light that came through the leaves and shifting branches overhead. Its eyes were closed, its wings and legs contorted into unnatural looking positions from the bola still wrapped around it. Quickly drawing her knife from her belt, she eased closer before taking cover behind a boulder to take a deep breath. Letting it out, she stood and approached the immobile dragon.
"This fixes everything," she told herself as she drew closer. Putting one foot on its front leg, she called, "I have brought down this mighty beast!" only to shriek in surprise and fear when the leg moved and tossed her back against the boulder she'd hidden behind. The dragon's eyes were still closed, but its breathing was deeper now, almost as if it was asleep or perhaps, beginning to wake up. Stepping back up to it, she was able to see its face clearly now, and its eyes were definitely open this time. They were a strange mix of yellow and green, the pupils drawn into tight slits, almost like a cat. "I'm going to kill you, dragon," she told it, lifting her knife above her head for added leverage. It was a small knife, not really meant for what she was going to do, but it was better than leaving the dragon where someone else could find it and claim her glory. "I'm going to cut out your heart and take it to my father. I am a Viking. I am a Viking!" The dragon groaned, as unconvinced of that as she was. She lifted her knife higher and, unable to look away, she saw the dragon close its eyes and rest its head on the ground, accepting it's defeat at her hands. Squeezing her eyes shut, she stood, frozen in place for several long moments before her forearms met her head as she sighed.
"I did this," she whispered as she dropped to her knees, more ashamed of this one act than anything she'd ever done with a malfunctioning invention. The dragon belonged in the sky, free to do as it pleased, and she'd brought it down to earth, and for what? To kill it and maybe, just maybe, prove that she wasn't as useless as everyone thought? No, if it was to die, it shouldn't be like this. Maybe, though, she could make up for it. Without giving herself too much time to think about what she was about to do, Hiccup started sawing through the ropes that held the dragon in place. Three quick slices later, the dragon had her pinned against the boulder, the claws of one foot on either side of her throat as anger filled eyes glared down at her. She couldn't meet the gaze for long, but every time she looked away, something drew her back.
The dragon drew a deep breath, and stomped its feet on either side of her head as it roared down at her before taking off into the trees, bouncing off rocks and occasionally trees. Hiccup could barely hear it, her ears still ringing as she groped for her knife. Getting to her feet, she made it two steps away from the boulder before her legs gave out and she collapsed in a dead faint.
It was nearing sunset when Hiccup came to, which meant, unless her dad was already home, he would be soon and she needed to be there. After grabbing her knife, she hauled herself to her feet and made her way back to village as fast as she could. Her ears were still ringing a little, but it cleared as she drew closer to home. Opening the newly repaired door, she slid in and closed it, wincing slightly when it creaked. Turning, she jumped when she spotted her father sitting at the fire, using a poker to shift the logs a little. Taking a deep breath, she tried to sneak passed him but just as she passed behind him, the stairs creaked. Oh, the gods hate me!
"Hiccup," Stoick called, and she winced as she straightened and started back down the stairs.
"Dad, we need to talk."
"I need to talk to you, too," he told her, looking anywhere but at her.
"I've decided it's time you learn to fight dragons." "I've decided I don't want to fight dragons."
"What?" they asked each other at the same time, unsure of what the other had said.
"You go first," Stoick stated, nervous about letting his daughter join the other recruits in dragon training. She was small, weak and not exactly graceful. He could only hope that she would still be there if he got back.
"No, you go first," Hiccup replied, wanting him to go first so she could work out just what and how to say what she needed to.
"You get your wish," he told her, making her gape in confusion at him. "Dragon training. You start in the morning."
"Oh, I should have gone first," she moaned as she sent a hand through her bangs. "I've been thinking we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough bread-making Vikings or small-home-repair Vikings?"
"You'll need this," Stoick told her, handing her a battle ax, which she immediately fumbled and almost dropped on her foot. Disaster was only averted by her father grabbing the weapon and hauling it back up into position.
"Dad, I don't want to fight dragons."
"Oh, come on," he scoffed as he turned away, sure she'd see his point. "Yes, you do." She'd been going on about fighting and killing dragons almost her entire life, and this sudden change of heart seemed out of character.
"Let me rephrase that. Dad, I can't kill dragons," Hiccup insisted, taking a few steps after him, the ax an awkward weight in her arms.
"But you will kill dragons."
"No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't," she tried again, hoping this time he'd hear her. He never had before, but she really hoped that this time, he'd pay more attention to what she had to say.
"It's time, Hiccup."
"Can you not hear me?!"
"This is serious, girl," he said, showing that he wasn't paying attention to her. He took the ax from her and held it up. "When you carry this ax, you carry all of us with you." He handed it back to her, making her grunt as the weight of it returned to her arms and almost threw her to the floor. "Which means you walk like us," her father continued, hauling the ax and his daughter upright again, "you talk like us and you think like us." He stepped back and waved both hands in her general direction. "No more of . . . this."
"You just gestured to all of me."
"Deal?"
"This conversation is feeling very one-sided."
"Deal?" he asked again, leaning toward her again.
"Deal," she replied, her shoulders slumping in dejection. There was no way this was going to work out the way either of them wanted, no matter what she did. She could continue pretending that she was a dragon killer or she could declare herself a coward and be exiled. The gods really hate me.
"Good." He grabbed a basket and tossed it over his shoulder. "Train hard. I'll be back . . . probably." Reaching up, he took his helmet from a peg and placed it on his head as he made his way to the door.
"And I'll be here," she mumbled, the ax still clutched in both hands, "maybe." Hiccup remembered hearing that most of the adults were leaving for one last expedition to the dragons' nest before the ice set in. Heaving a sigh, she sent a up quick prayer that her father and the others would return home safely.
"I'm hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder or lower back," Ruffnut was saying as Hiccup rushed to catch up to the others. Despite the dragon raid and searching for the Night Fury, she hadn't slept well the night before, the encounter with the downed Night Fury still too fresh in her mind, and when she left the house, she was halfway to the arena before she realized she'd forgotten the ax and had to run back for it. The arena, or Kill Ring, had started as a natural depression in the ground that, over the years, had been enlarged and deepened as the dragon attacks continued. It now held six cages, almost always occupied, with a chain net over the top to keep the dragons inside when let out.
"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it," Anstred replied casually, shrugging one shoulder.
"No kidding, right?" Hiccup asked from behind them, making everyone turn to face her. She'd never heard of anyone wishing for injuries before, but Vikings were tough and wore scars like badges of honor, so she supposed she could see the allure, even if it wasn't something she aspired to. "Pain. Love it."
"Great. Who let her in here?" Tuffnut demanded with a sneer.
"Does her dad know she's here?"
"Let's get started," Gobber called, shutting the gate behind them. "The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village."
"Hiccup already killed a Night Fury, so does that disqualify her?" Snotlout asked rhetorically, not believing she'd brought one down. Tuffnut muttered about transferring to the class with the cool Vikings making Ruffnut and Snoutlout laugh as they lined up in front of the cages, waiting for class to begin.
"Don't worry," Gobber told her, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards the other teens. "You're small and weak. That will make you less of a target. They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens, instead." With a chuckle, he gave her a push to get her in line with the others. He'd obviously meant to be comforting, but Hiccup was having a hard time believing it. "Behind these doors, are just a few of the many species you'll learn to fight. The deadly Nadder."
"Speed 8, armor 16," Fishlegs muttered beside her.
"The Hideous Zippleback."
"Plus 11 stealth, times two."
"The Monstrous Nightmare."
"Firepower 15."
"The Terrible Terror."
"Attack 8, venom 12."
"Can you stop that?" Gobber demanded, finally out of patience with Fishlegs. "And the Gronckle." He put his hand on the lever that would open the cage and checked to see if they were ready.
"Jaw strength 8," he whispered to Hiccup, who could only gape at him. Those were statistics from the card game that had become popular among the younger members of their village, but it was also a training tool. It gave them an idea of what dragons were like and could do, but she'd never found someone as into it as he was.
"Whoa, wait," Snotlout shouted when he realized that Gobber was going to open the cage. "Aren't you going to teach us first?"
"I believe in learning on the job," Gobber told him, not seeing Hiccup copy him. She knew that better than anyone, as he'd tossed her into the forge and only corrected her when she was about to make a mistake or hurt herself. With that, he opened the cage and the Gronckle, who'd been banging on the cage door, flew out at them, its wings buzzing like a hive of angry bees. They scattered, diving for cover or hoping to keep out of the way as the dragon flew around the ring. The dragon flew into a wall, bouncing off only to scoop up some rocks. "Today is about survival. If you get blasted, you're dead. Quick! What's the first thing you're going to need?"
"A doctor?" Hiccup called, holding the ax in a white knuckled grip.
"Plus 5 speed?" Fishlegs sounded as nervous as Hiccup did, and that did nothing to alleviate the tension in her stomach.
"A shield," Anstred answered, ax gripped in one hand as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to dodge in any direction.
"Shields, go!" They ran for the shields scattered about the ring, grabbing the first one that came to hand. "Your most important piece of equipment is your shield. If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield," he instructed, helping Hiccup get hers into position before turning her and giving her a shove into the fray. The twins had each honed in on a shield with flaming skulls painted on it and were fighting over it.
"Get your hands off my shield!"
"There's a million shields!" Ruffnut answered, twisting to try to get her brother to let it go.
"Why don't you take that one?" he suggested, pointing to one off to the side. "It has a flower on it. Girls like flowers." She managed to get the shield away from him and hit him over the head with it.
"Oops, now this one has blood on it," she growled just as he grabbed it again. Neither one held it for long, though, when a fireball blasted the shield out of their hands and sent them to the ground.
"Ruffnut, Tuffnut, you're out," Gobber called from the sidelines. While they made their way towards him, he continued giving instructions. "Those shields are good for another thing: noise. Make lots of it to throw off a dragon's aim." The teens quickly began hitting their shields with their weapons, making as much noise as possible. It seemed to be working as the dragon shook its head, confused as to which teen to fire at first. "All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?"
"Five?" Snotlout called, running away from the dragon. It had gotten over its confusion and was once again chasing them down.
"No, six," Fishlegs corrected, not seeing the dragon turning in his direction.
"Correct, six! That's one for each of you!" Fishlegs held up his shield, happy to have been right, only to have it blasted off his arm. "Fishlegs, out!" He ran from the ring, crying out in fear. "Hiccup, get in there!" She took a step out from behind the wooden barricade, only to dart back when another fireball hit where she'd been only a second ago.
Across the ring, Snotlout was trying to impress Anstred again. "You should come by sometime and work out," he told him, subtly flexing his muscles. "We could see who's stronger." Anstred dove away, having seen the Gronckle about to attack. Distracted, he never saw the fireball that knocked the shield out of his hands.
"Snotlout, you're done." Hiccup had finally managed to gather up enough courage to come out again, only to find herself jumping a little when Anstred came to a stop after rolling away from the Gronckle still buzzing around the ring.
"So, I guess it's just you and me?" she asked, surprised she'd managed to speak without stuttering in his presence.
"Nope, just you," Anstred replied, not even looking at her when he dove away. Hiccup's shield was ripped away by another fireball. Luckily, it wasn't completely destroyed, but it was rolling away.
"One shot left," Gobber called, watching the goings on with a mostly bored eye. He'd seen trainees come and go, but this lot, with the exception of Anstred, looked like they'd barely make it through without serious injury. He spotted Hiccup running after her shield, the dragon close behind and shouted for her. The shield hit the wall and bounced off, but Hiccup barely managed to turn so her back was to the wall. Mouth agape as it drew in a breath to launch the last shot, Hiccup could only stare, unable to move before it blasted her head clean off her shoulders. If it wasn't for Gobber jabbing his hook in its mouth and turning its head just enough, she would have been a smoking heap. "That's six," he ground out, fighting the dragon currently chewing on his hook as he maneuvered it back towards its cage. "Go back to bed, you overgrown sausage!" With that, he slammed the door shut and looked back at his trainees. "You'll get another chance, don't you worry." Except for Anstred, they were all panting hard and looking a little worse for wear. "Remember, a dragon will always," he said, turning to Hiccup now, "always go for the kill." He hauled her to her feet and led them out of the ring.
