Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD.

To all reviewers: Thank you so much!

The sun was high in the sky, sweeping its rays across the little valley and playing with little shadows here and there. Hiccup dozed in Toothless's shadow, having forgotten all about his dad and Astrid and her privilege to kill a dragon before them all; it wasn't until a shout rang out through the woods beyond the clearing that he was jolted rather unpleasantly to full awareness. The voice was approaching rapidly; Toothless raised his head to watch in slight amusement as Hiccup raced pell-mell for the exit, slipping out and into the trees beyond, trying to make it look like he hadn't been anywhere near that part of the forest. It was a good thing he was small – he was able to avoid making all the noise that the person in the woods was making.

Speak of the devil... the voice roared out again. "HICCUP!" It sounded rather upset.

Oh no, what'd I do, Hiccup thought reflexively, stopping his movement. "...Snotlout?"

Crunching and crashing noises commenced as the other boy proceeded to bulldoze his way through the underbrush in the direction of Hiccup's voice. "Hiccup! Where've you been? Your dad sent me out to look for you," Snotlout told him, a bit resentfully. "They weren't gonna wait for either one of us! Astrid's going to kill the Nightmare, come on!" He grabbed Hiccup by one arm and tugged him away, dragging him through the woods toward their village.

With relief, Hiccup realized that Snotlout was sidetracked enough by the events in the village, not to think about asking why he'd been in the middle of the forest. Once they reached the village, the larger boy let go of Hiccup's arm and trotted off to the arena. Hiccup rubbed his arm and stood still. Kill a dragon... Astrid's killing a dragon.

He hadn't really thought about it before, being entirely focused on avoiding the 'privilege' himself; but Astrid would kill the Nightmare... and there was nothing he could do. Shame washed over him; shame, guilt, and and an edge of helplessness. There was no way he could go and watch the willful murder of the Monstrous Nightmare without trying to set it free... and that would not go over well, or have any chance of succeeding.

So... he'd wait here, and when they asked where he'd been, he'd say he was just disappointed that he hadn't gotten the 'privilege' and had been sulking in a corner. Heh. He couldn't help but laugh a little at the thought, but amusement quickly faded as he realized that Astrid would most certainly want to put on a good show for her watchers, never mind the pain it might cause the Nightmare.

In some ways, he felt disillusioned about the Viking girl; she had no mercy for dragons or himself, and he was absolutely certain she wouldn't waste any time quibbling about right or wrong if Toothless was before her. In other ways though, she still made his knees go weak whenever her cerulean gaze swept over him. She was beautiful, strong, stubborn, the perfect Viking... everything he'd once wanted to be, and everything that he could never really be, no matter what the facade he put on for the village.

He waited in Gobber's shop, cleaning up all his designs and drawings of Toothless as something to do in the meantime, stashing them away in a box behind the desk. All trace of Toothless's existence was removed from obvious sight in the room. With his newfound popularity, also came people barging in at unexpected times; the last thing he needed was for someone to see a drawing of Toothless and wonder where he'd gotten the idea. He was sure his popularity would fade, and things would return to normal, after dragon-training was over and they forgot about his ability with dragons; no point in tempting fate, though.

A muted roar from the direction of the arena caught his attention; that one was louder than the others. Maybe Astrid was finally done with her game. His stomach twisted, and he ran for home, glancing toward the arena. People were coming out, jubilant shouts and chuckles ringing out loudly, carrying Astrid on their shoulders... her and her bloody axe. The crowd turned as one to the town hall, intent on drinking itself into a stupor by morning in celebration. Hiccup stood back and let them pass, suddenly feeling very tired.

A huge figure detached itself from the crowd, heading over to Hiccup. It was Stoick. "Hey, Hiccup." He clapped his hand on Hiccup's shoulder again, making him stumble. "You didn't have to wait out here, you know."

"Ah, hah, I... I was just... disappointed 'cause I lost, so I stayed... sat over here and thought... lost track of time," Hiccup stumbled over his words, attempting to make them sound believable. He wasn't a very good straight-up liar.

Good thing Vikings weren't particularly good at picking up on things like that. Stoick chuckled, a rumbling sound that might have been mistaken for thunder if it was cloudy out. "Ah, don't worry. You'll get your chance." He didn't even notice Hiccup's tone of voice; as usual.

Stoick's words sunk in, and a sudden sinking sensation made itself known in his stomach. "...What? Gobber doesn't have any more dragon training assignments... does he?"

"Of course not!" Stoick laughed again. "But when the next dragon raid comes around... you won't be all cooped up inside like before, boy! Show us what you can do then!" He shook Hiccup's shoulder, a wide, almost childlike grin on his face, and turned away for the town hall. As chief, he was required by common courtesy to attend.

Hiccup remained behind, staring after his dad. I really didn't think this through, did I? So much for believing things would return to relative normalcy after the dragon-training was over...