Hello! I am back for one more update! Thank you for everyone who showed interest in this story and I hope you all are safe and sound. Me and my family were lucky and evaded the virus even with my mom working at the hospital. Hopefully things will pick up now worldwide!

I do not own the 'How to Train Your Dragon' franchise. They belong to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell.


Chapter 3: Focus, Hiccup!

Hiccup walked back to the forge in a daze. The world surrounding him has never looked so dim and lifeless. Even the fires seemed to fail at bringing any light and energy to the otherwise desolate sight of the village. The Vikings were harassing away the last few dragons but Hiccup didn't find any strength to care. About anything, even their well-being like before. He stopped in the middle of the road, ignoring the people yelling and passing by.

Toothless did not remember him. Just admitting that fact left him breathless. How could his heart hurt so much because of someone he knew for a few hours? It wasn't even Toothless' fault! Why were the Gods so eager to screw with him so much?

Hiccup noticed the other kids heading for the shop. He felt too tired to deal with them so he turned on his heels and trudged back to his lone, quiet home. Gobber could chew him all he wanted later. For now, he just… didn't care.

The next hour felt like seconds. Hiccup wasn't aware of much. He got home, hearth empty and cold because, of course. He wasn't hungry but he sat in front of the cupboards debating if he should eat something. The nausea that suddenly came over him was a good answer. He climbed to his room instead and slumped at his desk, on top of papers and charcoal and pens.

And cried. He just, finally, let everything out.

/\\\

The wind welcomed him in its embrace. So free, so uncritical of every single twitch of his scales. It was the only time when he could feel like himself. Like his body was his, like his will was unconstrained by the shackles of a beautiful song. The wind was everything he desired and everywhere he dreamed.

The sky had no limit, the horizon was endless, and the young Dark-Scale felt weightless between them. Insignificant but free. Because it was only in those few moments of sunlight when he could go do whatever. As long as he returned by moonlight. As long as he returned to her and guard her property. As long as the others' hopes were laid in front of him, he would keep returning.

But not at the moment.

His mind was occupied by an odd incident. And incident and an individual, more precisely. The Dark-Scale considered himself intelligent, above intelligent than his kin in some cases. He knew it was advantageous to hold himself back, stick to the shadows and the mystery. It was natural to his species. He never bothered to stoop to the level she demanded of everyone. Therefore, he took a role that both satisfied her and aided his fellows. He won the gratitude and accord of both parties doing something that he is not entirely against and that came logically to him as a Dark-Scale. He still did not agree with anything she said, but if it kept him alive and in the others' good graces then he would take it. It was all about survival in that Nest.

Which was why he thought about it now. He didn't understand what came over him last moon. The Fire-Skin was not going to kill the hatchling. Scare him a lot, chase him a bit, yes. But not outright kill him. They were a more violent bunch but they still wouldn't go that far with a hatchling. The young one was strange though. And he, himself, couldn't comprehend why he felt such an… urging to stop his kin.

He let the small one see him, unprotected by the darkness, and it felt like a victory. To watch the awe spread on their weird faces, the reverence glinting in similar eyes, and then the happy looking turn of his mouth. Why was he happy? What possible reason could a Viking hatchling have to be overjoyed at seeing an enemy?

He was amazing, no doubt about it. But the situation didn't normally dictate ease and relief from the Viking. On the contrary, he should have been even more scared. But the thing came towards him and then he was scared when the Dark-Scale manifested his displeasure. But not for himself. The dragon was so confused about that meeting. Nothing of his reactions made sense. And he also called him something but he didn't care among rage at himself and growing annoyance at the hatchling.

The broken look in his eyes cut him deeper than expected. He still didn't know what to think. Who was that? Why was he so eager to possibly die by approaching him? Why was he happy?

The wind coiled around his form as he descended, careful to not cause the whistle that announced his presence. He wasn't usually so attentive as he loved the feeling of people noticing him. But in that moment he had a special mission. The Viking village was a tiny dot in the ocean, and he made sure to fly around and approach from the forested side of their island. He already let one of them see him, he wasn't going to allow any more.

The sky was cloudy but otherwise dry and warm. The forest was cool and he had no hope of blending in with the greenery, so he had even more incentive to watch out for any Viking activity. It was very slow and the fire above indicated about half a day has passed. It was disappointing but worthy in the end. He was almost close to the tree line of the highest ledge of the island. As far as he knew, only the Alpha of the people lived there, so it was a perfect spot as it lacked any more settlements and it also provided a good view. Hopefully. The more he sneaked forward the louder his logical part became. What was he trying to do anyway? He knew he had incredible sight, but could he even distinguish the hatchling among hundreds? What was he hoping to achieve by spying on him?

What if he was caught? Pff… they stood no chance anyway. But wouldn't he tarnish his reputation for this? Was it really worth it? What about that Viking that it drove him to actually get close enough to sniff them? He stopped. What was he doing? Just what was he trying to do here?

The Viking made him curious.

But why? Why did he care what a stupid child was doing?

He looked so sad.

Again, why? It was none of his business what their kind got up to. He had a clear duty. They all knew what they were doing. Sometimes there were disagreements of the morality of attacking somewhat defenseless beings but it was a moot point when faced with her. They all knew their obligations, whether they like it or not. So why should he be interested in the hatchling's sadness?

Because he looked at him. And he was sad. He was sad because of him.

The Dark-Scale shook his head. He growled and rubbed his paws over his head. No matter how much he tried he couldn't forget that look. Why? Why did he hurt every time he remember it? Who was that?

A snapped twig made him freeze. He wasn't alone anymore. Slowly, he sniffed the air. And his heart almost stopped. The same child was near him. He carefully maneuvered between the trees towards him, staying low to the ground and constantly shaded by the vegetation. The Viking was walking in the forest, heading deeper inland. He was unaware of the dragon.

The Dark-Scale was stumped. He wasn't sure what to do next. He wasn't even sure he could have found him in the first place and now here they were. At the moment, he decided to follow him. The human was still sad, but he seemed more defeated than when he left him. Sometimes he stopped, watching the trees, the birds, the wavering leaves of the crowns. The dragon thought he was about to cry. He's seen others do it when they were scared or they lost somebody. Followed by screaming and throwing their weapons at the nearest of his kin.

The young Viking didn't seem to be going anywhere anymore. He pondered on his strange behavior for a few seconds and decided to act. Maybe they would both get something worthwhile out of it. He slowly moved around him until he was in front. And then he darted behind the trees.

It was a quick motion. Something that would surely catch his eye. And it did. With a gasp. He made certain that he couldn't be seen entirely. A black shadow moving around was enough to get his attention and the Dark-Scale was pleased at how the boy only hesitated for a moment before following.

He continued to lead him further in the forest. He wasn't sure where he was going but he forgot about that soon. It quickly became a game. He waited for him to get closer. And then he would leap, hidden, but still showing black scales that would attract his eyes. Sometimes he would rattle branches with his tail, throw a rock or jump in front of a beam of light. The hatchling followed him, never getting too close to see him but most likely guessing who it was.

They arrived at a cliff, a slopping path going between boulders at the bottom. The Dark-Scale came to a halt. He was amused enough to continue playing but he didn't want to be caught off-guard. He wasn't going to lose the height advantage, even if the prospect of a fight was slim to none. He grabbed a rock in his mouth and bounded up the closest tree as soundless as possible. As the young one came into view, he tossed the rock down the hole hearing it bounce around to the ground all the way, at the foot of the hill.

The boy slowed down, breathing for air. He looked around, blinking at the area as if just now noticing where he was. He approached the opening, twisting to see anything suspicious but stepped inside after a while. The Dark-Scale hummed approvingly and leaped down, flapping his wings once to not make too much noise as he hit the floor.

He wasn't sure how well the humans' hearing was but so far, the little one was able to keep up with his sound trails. He suspected he must have heard that as well, as gently as he tried to be. So he didn't hesitate to walk on top of the boulders and glance down, into those annoyingly familiar green eyes.

/\\\

The Meade Hall was always a loud spot in the village. Now especially, it was a center of chaos and agitation as what seemed like the whole village gathered to discuss an age-old matter.

"Either we finish them, or they'll finish us!" Stoick marked his words by sticking his knife in the map, drawing everyone's attention. "It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! One more search. Before the ice sets in."

The Chief stood tall at the head of the table. Above the flickering flames of the fire pit he watched with hawk like eyes his men's reactions. They were mumbling and whispering, none dared to speak out against him but he knew their opinion did not match his right then.

"Those ships never come back." One brave soul finally admitted.

Stoick rolled his eyes, the line slipping instantly out with how many times he said it to his son. "We're Vikings! It's an occupational hazard! Now who's with me?"

More grumbles accompanied his statement. He was starting to feel his ire rising. Excuses like "Gothi said today's not good for me," and "I've gotta do my axe returns,", he's heard so many times he didn't even acknowledge anymore.

"Alright. Those who stay will look after Hiccup." As much as it rubbed him the wrong way to use his son, Stoick couldn't help but marvel at how well it worked. Before he could blink, the men and women gathered were all up in volunteering. He nodded, smiling, and that was the signal that the meeting was over.

"Right, I'll pack ma' undies."

He motioned for Gobber to wait as he walked to his table. "No, I need ye ta stay and train some new recruits."

Gobber only waited a breath before falling back down. "Oh, perfect. And while ahm busy, Hiccup can cover the stall." He swirled his tankard hand around, shrugging dramatically. "Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time ta himself... what could possibly go wrong?"

Stoick sighed heavily, sitting down next to his best friend. "What am ah going ta do with him, Gobber?"

"Put him in training with the others." The smith said matter-of-factly.

"No, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"He'd be killed before ye let the first dragon out of its cage."

The man scoffed. "Oh, ye don't know that."

"I do know that, actually." Stoick said just as matter-of-factly.

"No, ye don't."

"No, actually, I do."

"No, ye don't!"

At Gobber's insistence, the man took a deep breath. "Listen, ye know what he's like. From the time he could crawl he's been... different." He stood up, pacing in front of the table. Gobber was shaking his head taking a gulp of beer. He choked and his tooth snapped off falling in the mug. "He doesn't listen, he has the attention span of a sparrow... Ah take him fishing and he goes hunting for... for trolls!"

"Trolls exist!" The smith turned to him forgetting about the tooth. "They steal yer socks. But only the left ones. What's with that?"

"When ah was a boy..."

"Oh, here we go." Gobber shook his mug, looking down to see his missing tooth while Stoick kept monologue-ing in the background.

"My father told me to bang my head against a rock, and ah did it. Ah thought it was crazy, but ah didn't question him. And ye know what happened?"

"Ye got a headache." He finally got it out and was trying to put it back in its place, half paying attention as Stoick went on.

"That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could - He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas! Even as a boy, ah knew what ah was, what ah had ta become. Hiccup is not that boy."

"Ye can't stop him, Stoick. Ye can only prepare him." At the disheartened look his friend gave him, Gobber pressed on. Let it not be said that he doesn't do anything for his apprentice. "Look, ah know it seems hopeless. But the truth is ye won't always be around ta protect him. He's goin' to get out there again. He's probably out there now."

The man sighed. After a short thoughtful moment, he finally agreed. "All right! Fine!" He wrapped his hand around Gobber's shoulder and shook him good-naturedly. "Ah guess ah'll leave him ta ye then."

The smith snorted and finished his drink.

/\\\

The village post dragon raid always looked like a smoking wasteland. The burnt houses looked worse than when on fire, the ground was splattered with blood, whose, one could never be sure, and there were random weapons strewn around, broken or dropped during the fight. It took a day for everything to be gathered and for repairs to begin but it was routine by now. With whole centuries backing them, rebuilding homes was as quick and instinctive as gripping one's axe.

Snotlout was used to the scene but he could never get used to the stains. They wouldn't stay though, one swift rainfall and they would be gone. Or the constant trampling going on would cover them with dust in no time. He finished helping the others gather the weapons and delivering them to the smith shop while the adults were discussing in the Hall and now he found himself with nothing to do.

Astrid was helping her folks fix some broken pieces of their rooftop, Fishlegs was once again buried in that stupid book of his and the twins… he wasn't interested in that. And he didn't want to know. The less he knew the better. Now, however, he had a new piece of information to mull over.

Hookfang.

He winced just thinking of his name. While he didn't get as close to his dragon as Hiccup did, that wasn't indicative of his feelings. He liked Hookfang. Very much so. He was a bit scared of him, what with him being so aggressive and confrontational, especially back with Drago. Hiccup told them yesterday that there was no Monstrous Nightmare in the pens. But his father was put in charge of taking the captured Nightmare to the ring just earlier.

Snotlout wasn't the smartest guy around. He knew that, even if he denied admitting it aloud. But even he could tell that it was too much of a coincidence. The village had captured a dragon from each species they would ride, except Night Fury; he was still puzzled how that would come into play. He didn't get to see the dragon but he was sure he could tell right away if it was Hookfang or not.

His feet carried him to the Kill Ring, locked and guarded as the roars of the Nightmare echoed between the cliffs. Snotlout gulped trying to not appear frightened. Whenever he saw the ring now, he could only think of the war, the dragons tearing into each other, traps snapping close and breaking bones, spears and swords stabbing and spilling blood everywhere.

Snotlout hated the stains. He hated them before and he hated them now. But he couldn't do anything about it as he was. He needed Hookfang and he hoped to the Gods that his suspicion proved true and that the dragons stayed safe until they could figure out what to do.

/\\\

Hiccup looked at the top of the hill. Perched on a boulder near the entrance was the imposing sight of the Night Fury. Back arched and crouched down, the dragon was watching him with curious eyes. Hiccup willed his heart to stop its sprint. He was disappointed to see the empty cove at first until he heard the swoosh from above. The whole time, he hoped the shadow was who he thought it was. As absurd as his hopes were, Toothless coming back was a miracle.

The sheer joy from when he first laid eyes on the dragon came back to him. Hiccup smiled at him, crooked and wobbly. He was still very apprehensive about what would happen next. He was in an enclosed space, with the only exit being blocked by a dragon. Who the dragon was didn't matter considering he didn't recognize him.

But he knew… he knew that Toothless wouldn't hurt him.

Hiccup relaxed his body. He continued to smile and maintain eye contact with the Night Fury and they stayed like that for a while. At some point, Hiccup sat down on the grass. He motioned for him to come down but the dragon scowled and remained rooted to his spot. Hiccup shrugged and slowly pulled out his notebook when a low growl started in Toothless' throat. It stopped when he saw no danger but the young heir could tell he was even more curious.

He resisted the urge to laugh and instead opened the book and started to draw the Night Fury. It wasn't an extraordinarily angle, and the dragon was too bunched into himself for Hiccup to tell leg from tail, but he managed an initial sketch. The wind kicked up as the evening got closer. The air was getting colder but Hiccup ignored it in favor of spending time with Toothless. The dragon also relaxed from his defensive position and was now sitting down on the rock, front paws dangling from the edge. His eyes were the round, friendly orbs he's seen before and his many frills stuck up as he was watching him, an occasional croon ringing in wonderment.

The sky was getting dark when the Night Fury jerked back on his feet. The sudden motion made Hiccup jump. The dragon glanced at him strangely, before he unfolded his wings and took off without looking back. The boy frowned in confusion but he sighed and got up to leave now that the entrance was open. He observed the cove from above, standing in the same place that Toothless had and feeling the dissolving warmth left behind. With his notebook back in its place, Hiccup began the trek back to the village.

It took far longer than before to get back. The sky was dark, clouds rolling in but no sign of a storm yet. He got lost a couple of times in the forest but at least he knew some tracking tricks that he used to get on the right path. Not much considering the people in the tribe hardly hunted but useless doesn't always mean useless.

When he entered the house, Hiccup was surprised to see his father. The man was tending the fire absent-mindlessly so the youth took that as his cue to crawl up the stairs and avoid a confrontation.

"Hiccup."

No such luck apparently.

"Dad! Uh... hi!"

"Ah need ta speak with ye, son." Not beating around the bush, was he? Hiccup stood up on the stair, vaguely spotting he was at his father's level as he came next to him.

"Oh, uh… sure. What's going on?"

"Ah think it's time ye learn ta fight dragons." Hiccup felt too blind-sided to answer beside a croak that might have been the beginning of a yelp. Stoick continued, not noticing anything amiss. "Ye get yer wish. Dragon Training. Ye start in the mornin'."

When he finally found his voice, Hiccup hurried to placate his father. "Oh, man…uh, you know what? I've actually been thinking about it too!" As the man was ambling around the house, the teen's panic was rising and his hands were gesticulating like mad. "Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough... bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings-?"

"Ye'll need this." Stoick threw him an axe that Hiccup barely caught.

"I don't want to fight dragons." He finished, expecting to get his attention. Instead, the man chuckled.

"Come on. Yes, ye do."

"Rephrase: Dad, I can't kill dragons." He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about the battle at the Alpha's Nest.

"But ye will kill dragons."

"Dad, please listen to me -" He tried again, almost dropping the axe.

"It's time, Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?!"

Stoick huffed, jovial tone dropping for exasperation. "This is serious, son! When ye carry this axe, ye carry all of us with ye. Which means ye walk like us. Ye talk like us. Ye think like us." He straightened his posture, replaced the axe in his hand to a more warrior-like position and looked him over. "No more of... this."

"You just gestured to all of me." He mumbled, painfully reminded of Gobber earlier.

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided."

"DEAL?"

Hiccup breathed deeply. His grip on the handle grew slack but he didn't let it fall no matter how much his hands wanted that. There was no way to turn this conversation around, if one could even call it that. He shuffled his feet, avoided his eyes, anything that would indicate his displeasure before nodding grimly.

"Deal..."

"Good. Train hard." The man ignored all his wordless protests. He went around the house gathering his supplies, before heading for the door. "Ah'll be back. Probably."

Hiccup almost wanted to ignore him back. But he couldn't let that be the memory he left on before another expedition. He managed to reply, totally defeated. "And I'll be here. Maybe."

He didn't look at him as he left. When the door closed, the teen slumped on the stairs finally releasing the weapon which toppled down on the floor. He buried his face in his arms and yelled in frustration. Just as his day was brightening, something had to come and ruin it.