AN: Kvetha, fricaya. So, yet another HTTYD fanfiction. Here's an overused idea! But I have a pretty good spin on it, I reckon. But, of course, I'm biased. What if Hiccup left before facing the Nightmare? But with some HTTYD 2 elements in it, and some unique OCs, I think this could make for a good story.

I don't own HTTYD. Just, you know, reminding you, in case you somehow got little old me confused for some big shot Hollywood director. Like.

(Am I the only one who really wants to know what would happen if we said we did own HTTYD? We don't, but what would happen if we said we did?)

Chapter One

There were five

There were five of them. Two of them were obviously female: one possibly in her late thirties, the other a teenager. Two of the males had dusky skin; they were strongly built and had the same metal band around their bicep. The last of them, in the centre, was tall and gangly. He was by no means muscular, but nor was he weak. His left leg ended halfway down his shin, replaced by a metal peg. All of them wore frightening masks; leather crafted into long spikes, horns, fangs and tusks. But the most fearsome thing of all was their mounts. Each was mounted on a dragon. The older woman was atop a huge amber beast with four wings. The two dark-skinned males had tamed a blue sea-dragon with two heads, the younger female was saddled on a dark red Grapple Grounder, and the other one, the one-legged one, was leaning casually against a beast that could only be a Night Fury.

Astrid looked closer at the one-legged man. He wasn't the oldest, or the strongest, but he radiated such an aura of power and authority that he could only be their leader. He wore a dark gray mask over his face, with a brown leather nose-guard studded with what must have been dragon fangs. Six long, curving spikes curled out of the top, each with uneven red-and-brown painted stripes around their circumference. There were slitted openings for his eyes, and below that, out of the sides of the mask, curved two spikes resembling mandibles, tipped with red that made them appear to be covered in blood. Around his neck was a tattered green scarf, and he had polished metal shoulder guards. A strong, sturdy brown leather jerkin covered his torso, and around his forearms were leather wraps and a swishing, worn length of fabric resembling wings that was tied on with sturdy leather straps. On his back were several spikes, much like a dragon's, and tattered fabric hung like a rough loincloth around his waist. His single boot was made of wrapped brown leather, and spikes protruded out of the back. His right arm was wrapped entirely in leather, while on his upper left arm, a swirling tattoo of a dragon was etched, which only added to his fearsome appearance. Shaggy auburn hair poured from the back of his head like water; almost the only sign that reassured Astrid that this man really was human.

"What do you want here, devils! Who are you, to have betrayed your people, and ride upon these beasts?" Stoick snarled, hand on his hammer.

The leader snorted. "Devils, indeed. They say the same about you. As to my name, I have been called many things. You would not believe me if I told you my name. Nor those of my companions. So, for conveniences' sake, we would prefer to remain nameless."

He spoke quietly, but his voice had a light tone to it, one that implied levity and humour. Astrid was bewildered.

"You still haven't answered us. What do you want?" the chief hissed vehemently.

"To protect you," the younger woman said simply.

"The dragon raids you suffered have abated, but that doesn't mean that your problems are over. Not long ago, the place where we lived was attacked, and our Alpha dragon killed by another of its kind. We barely escaped with our lives and our dragons. The attack was ordered by a man named Drago Bludvist, and we have reason to believe that Drago may come here and attack you. So, we have come to help."

Stoick had paled at mention of Drago, but he still responded angrily.

"You have no proof. Besides, we don't need your help anyway, you filthy traitors. I should kill you right now."

"I'm fairly sure you would regret it if you did, for more reasons than one," the teenage boy in the gray mask said. Astrid narrowed her eyes. He was hinting at something only he knew, and Astrid wanted to know it right away.

Stoick's face darkened.

"How dare you threaten us?" he roared furiously, and threw himself at the leader, pinning him to the ground. The Night Fury growled, but didn't attack. Then Stoick pulled out his hammer and raised it over the youth's head.

"Hiccup!" cried the younger woman, and threw herself at Stoick, who jerked backwards.

"Hiccup?" he whispered.

Something in the stranger's voice changed, becoming lighter.

"Well, thank you for that, Idris," he said sarcastically. "There's not much point in this thing anymore, is there?"

And he pulled off his mask.

The crowd gasped. His face had matured slightly, but his eyes were still the same, that bright green. He smiled, that sarcastic smile everyone on Berk had come to despise before Hiccup had disappeared.

"Well, isn't this one big happy reunion?" he said.

"Hiccup?" Stoick said again. Hiccup sighed dramatically.

"Gobber," he called, waiting for the smith to emerge from the crowd. He untied his scarf and threw it to the smith. "If you would," the boy said. For some reason, he was keeping his head tilted to the left.

"Beard of Thor," Gobber drew in his breath. "It's from his old tunic. I remember this. Look, there's that patch I helped him sew on when he dropped a sword when he was thirteen, and he kept stabbing himself in the finger! It's really him!"

The crowd tittered, and Astrid shoved her way to the front.

"Hiccup? Where have you been?" she yelled.

o~0~O~0~o

"Astrid! Go find Hiccup, he'll miss his fight!" Stoick bellowed. The sheildmaiden nodded and ran about the village, knocking on the door of the Haddock house. There was no answer. She shoved the door open, and found… no one. She yelled Hiccup's name up the stairs, and even plucked up the courage to go in his room. There, she found a sheet of paper with a ragged edge, like it had been torn from a book. She unfolded it.

I'm so sorry, it read, but I can't fight the Nightmare. I doubt you'll read this until tomorrow, it's not like Dad will notice my absence. Remember when I told you all in that last raid that I shot down the Night Fury? Well, I actually did, and I found him exactly where I thought he'd landed- in the woods off Raven Point. I went out there, I found him, and I didn't kill him. I tamed him. That's right- I tamed a dragon. They're not the mindless killers we thought they were, they're quite friendly when treated right. I discovered the location of the nest, but their queen, gods above, not a hundred of you, Dad, could beat her. But maybe- just maybe- one of me can. I have devised a Fiendishly Clever Plan, and have set out for the Nest. I've left you a map of how to get there. By the time you have, either the queen will be dead or I will be. Either way, I want you to know that you don't have to fight dragons any more. I've left some pages about how I tamed my Night Fury, and I hope you use them for the right purposes.

Dad- I want you to know I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused.

Gobber- I hid your tankard under my bed. Sorry.

Astrid- I'm sorry. I have to say it- I love you.

~Hiccup

Astrid's eyes filled with tears. While Hiccup had a sense of humour, he wouldn't go this far. It was true. When Stoick flung open the door, bellowing for his son, Astrid wordlessly held out the note and watched as Stoick's face turned ash grey.

Hiccup was gone.