"Human Speech"

"Dragon Speech"

'A direct quote from the current character's thoughts'

I've just shot down the mighty Night Fury, the holy grail of dragons! They're going to sing songs about me for generations! The victory dance I just did wasn't exactly song material... Maybe nobody noticed? What if nobody noticed!? I had to check.

"Did anybody see that?" I barely heard my own words. The shock of the moment had almost paralysed my tongue. The sound of breaking wood forced me to turn around.

'Not my machine! Not now!' Terror raced through my mind as I watched the evidence of my genius disappear under the claws of a Monstrous Nightmare. A female. Again with the females, could they not take a hint! I'm not a dragon! Well, mostly...

"Not again," I muttered as the dragon lowered its head. I ran.

An angry roar filled the air, the shockwave making me stumble. Most Vikings don't know this. Hell, any Vikings period don't know this. Female dragons don't handle rejection! The air behind me rapidly heated, and I stepped to the left as a stream of fire incinerated the ground beside me. Somebody screamed. Was it me?

"Hiccup!" Somebody in the village had noticed my situation. Guess that scream was me. Nothing unmanly about screaming, right?

I always ended up regretting the times I left the forge. And this time was probably one of the worse. To get a clear shot, I'd gone onto the cliffs just outside the village. And now I had to run all the way back.

Reaching the first line of buildings, I made a sharp right turn. The dragon tried to follow and skidded into a house. Wood gave way, and the house collapsed inward as the dragon spewed fire. I cowered behind the nearest cover. One of the torch towers. The dragon had caught up, was this the end of Hiccup? Flames licked at the wooden pole. I was being chased by a scorned female, and it was way too quiet. I could hear dragons squawking in the distance, retreating.

'Maybe it left?' Optimistic as always, I dared to peek around the flames. Nothing. I almost let out a sigh of relief. A low growl had started behind me. I turned to see a draconic jaw filled with jagged teeth, posed to strike. A Viking barrelled forward as the dragon attacked throwing it back a good few feet. The tribal chief himself stood between us, hammer in hand and a scowl locked on his face.

The dragon righted itself and released its flame upon us. Well attempted to. A pitiful splatter of fire fell to the ground.

"You're all out." Said the chief, the words heavy with hatred. He stepped forward and swung his hammer, and I cringed as scales cracked and fell. The dragon turned with the contact and took to the sky, following the retreating dragons.

I was going to enjoy my lack of destruction. Maybe this was one of the easier dragon raids. Nothing disagreed with me more than the torch pole. Wood split, metal screeched, and the smile slid from my face like a giant burning fire pit sliding down a hill. Yeah, just like the one currently demolishing the village.

The chief watched the damage, and I watched his scowl deepen as I cringed at each shout of shock or annoyance that came from below. And I guess I should probably point out this one crucial fact...

"Sorry, Dad," I said, adding to the awkwardness of the situation.

He let out a sigh, and I braced myself for the berating I was about to receive. Wasn't there something important I wanted to tell him? The Night Fury! I'd shot it down! I glanced up to speak, but my jaw locked shut. My father wasn't going to listen. I had caused more damage in this raid than ever before. His face made that quite clear. I let him drag me away from the crowd.

"Why can't you listen, son?" He questioned, disappointment etched in his face. "You step outside, and disaster happens. I have enough problems, and I don't need you adding to them. Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!"

I had recently realised that this problem of mine that my father did not know of was getting worse. More females proposed every year. From now on I was going to have to stay in the forge. No more running around trying to kill dragons. No more machines. No more me. I let out a sigh and looked at my dad, Stoick the Vast, perfect Viking, Chief of Berk.

"I know... I won't do it again." I said shakily. There were gasps from the crowd. Were they really expecting me to continue? I expected my father to say something, but he just looked like something had broken inside that hard-headed heart of his. My own father, speechless? You'd think I'd grown a second head or something.

"Okay, then." My father said, breaking from his reverie. "Gobber will take you home."

I nodded slightly as Gobber appeared behind me and used his hand to guide me up the path. We passed the other teenagers in silence, not even a single hateful comment was uttered. I glanced to check that they were alive. As we left the crowds behind, I internally debated my situation. Gobber might not offer the best advice, but at least he knew about my problem.

"What am I supposed to do?" I questioned as I stepped up to the door. "If I try to help the dragons will kill me. If I stay in the forge, I'll die of boredom! And then my father thinks I'm going to somehow end the war!"

"And you will!" He cheerily stated. He paused. "Ya know, most peace treaties are sealed with a marriage."

"Eww! No, just no." I covered my ears. I could feel the image burning into my mind. Me with some ugly, bulbous Gronckle. Shivers ran down my back. "My dad would kill me if he found out the reality behind the prophecy."

"Look, don't worry about what you're not. Focus on what you are." Gobber said. I knew he meant well, but…

"I don't know what I am," I said quietly as I let myself in, leaving a confused Gobber outside. I saw him shrug and turn to go as the door closed behind me. 'At least he tried.'

I took a small loaf of bread and a dried fish from the cellar and retreated to my room. Being the only room not on the ground, it's a small space. On one side there is a bed with a chest at the bottom for my clothes. And on the other side, a small desk under a window which I would open for daylight during the warmer months.

I spent the next few hours sat on the bed, picking at my meal and contemplating my fate. I wasn't going to build any more machines. Time had shown that it's too dangerous for me to step outside in the dragon raids. My dad had apprenticed me to Gobber when I was little, and I'd done it to prove I was a Viking. Since a few years ago I'd done it to try to impress Astrid. Unfortunately, the only females that had noticed me were dragons. Now I'm fifteen and wondering if things could be worse.

Maybe I was lucky that I first noticed my problem when I did. It had been a year after I started my apprenticeship. My cousin, Snotlout, had already started bullying me, and my father had just decided it was time I started looking after myself. This meant I was supposed to use the public bathhouse…

I'm glad I'd been embarrassed. It had made me peek around the doorway. It hadn't taken me long to realise I was different down there. Maybe I should have thanked Snotlout? If he hadn't bullied me, I wouldn't have known different was bad.

When I turned seven, my dad decided I was old enough for the talk. Yeah, that talk. I shuddered at the memory. He hadn't spared the details, nor the advice. I was seven for Odin's sake!

It wasn't until I was thirteen that the true magnitude of my problem revealed itself. I'd been alone in the forge. Gobber had run off into the night to help defend the village and the area around the forge had been empty. I'd gone to the counter to grab more weapons, and two dragons had landed just outside. I could see that it was the birds and the bees. I'd started to turn away, not wanting to watch, but then I saw his dragonhood. At first, I'd been revolted. Then I'd realised it looked familiar. A horrified gasp later and they had disappeared into the twilight. After the raid, Gobber had found me hiding in the cupboard, and I'd told him everything.

Looking back, I wonder if I should have told my father then? It would have been easier. Maybe he would have understood. Now he would probably kill me. But I'd left it unsaid and sooner or later somebody was going to find out. For better or worse, I was resolved. I had to tell him. And if he was fated to kill me, so be it. And with that, I set off into the village to find my father.

I'd never paid much attention to the events that occurred immediately after a raid. But I was unable to find my father and soon found myself following the villagers to the Great Hall. My dad was probably planning another quest for the dragon nest. I decided to stand by the door and wait for him to finish. I listen to his booming voice as he made his arguments for finding the nest.

"The beasts have taken most of our supplies! Either we finish them, or they'll finish us!" He said. "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!"

I heard a blade pierce wood. It wouldn't surprise me if he'd just stabbed the dragon's nest for extra emphasis. I'd never understood how he managed to get people to agree to go.

"One more search, before the ice sets in!" Was he really going to risk our ships now? We need to replenish our stores for winter, and he wants to go dragon hunting? I couldn't understand how a speech like this would get so many volunteers.

A random Viking voiced my concerns. "Those ships never come back."

But of course, as always, my father has all the answers. "We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard. Now, who's with me?"

A slew of negative responses came from the gathering, and I thought maybe the village had gained a few brain cells since last time. The sledgehammer of reality felt like a death blow.

"Alright, those who stay will look after Hiccup." My own father had used me to send Vikings to their deaths. I felt suffocated in the change of atmosphere. Everyone was suddenly so excited to do whatever their chief wanted.

I stood petrified in the shadow of the door as the crowd dispersed. As the final few villagers made their way down the stone stairs that fed into the village, I ran. Tears filled my vision, not that I minded, a cliff would have been as good as a house.

After a while, I tripped and fell down a hill. Judging from the painful rocks and bushes, it was probably somewhere in the forest that covered most of the island. I couldn't hold it in anymore. When a large rock stopped my rolling, I curled against it and let it all out, sobs wracking my body.