Hiccup was sleeping that night, with dawn not far off, when a thunderous crash resounded outside. He was up in a flash, bolting downstairs and throwing the door open. A Monstrous Nightmare was there, roaring at him. He hesitated, looking for a weapon of some sort before realizing he didn't have one within reach and slammed the door closed just as the dragon fired at him.
He leaned against the wooden planks as flames licked around the edges, threatening to burn the door down. One word sprang to his mind and lips, "Dragons."
He opened the door again when the fire stopped and ran outside, a small smile on his face. In spite of the fact that he knew he wasn't particularly, well, Viking-like, he still had the burning desire to kill a dragon, and he felt good, for a change, about his odds this time. He dodged around villagers who tutted and told him to "get back inside!" He didn't listen and resumed his race up the hill. He was just about to reach a road close to the town square when he was picked up from behind by the back of the shirt.
"What is he doing ou-What are you doing out here? Get inside!" Stoick ordered.
Hiccup stumbled a bit before orienting himself toward the forge and Gobber. He jogged toward it, skidding to a halt as he entered. He shed his vest and hung it up, throwing on an apron while fielding Gobber's sarcastic remarks with a few of his own.
"They wouldn't know what to do with all...this," he said jokingly flexing his scrawny arms in a vain attempt at showing the apple sized muscles he had gained over the years.
"Well they need toothpicks, don't they?" Gobber volleyed back. He snickered. Just like usual.
Life carried on as usual for a bit, until he caught sight of Astrid. Time slowed and he could almost feel Gobber roll his eyes. Then Astrid ran by and he shrank back sheepishly. He'd learned from the years of torment that she needed to be approached differently. He still leaned out to get a good look at her from behind, though, something he could indulge in.
Gobber picked him up and set him back inside. "Back to work, you," he said.
"Let me out, please! I need to make my mark," Hiccup said, eyes lighting up at the prospect of killing a dragon.
"Oh you've made plenty of marks, all in the wrong places," Gobber said, poking him in the chest. "If you want to ever get the chance to go out there, with them, you need to stop with all...this." He gestured with a flat hook and an open hand at Hiccup.
"But you just gestured to all of me," Hiccup protested.
"Yes, that's it! Stop being all of you," Gobber encouraged.
That stung, a lot. Hiccup would have loved to have something happen to wipe that smugness of Gobber's face, but he didn't dare do anything brash. Thor knows his father would box his ears. Instead he settled for giving Gobber a dirty look and bickering right back, though he knew it was pointless.
"Uhuh, I'll take my chances," Gobber said dryly. He turned and grabbed a sword. "Sword. Sharpen. Now." He tossed it at Hiccup, who caught it and cradled it like an injured lamb as he hefted it over to the sharpening wheel. He got it going to a pretty good speed and lofted the sword to the grindstone, shooting sparks everywhere.
He let his thoughts wander for a bit until an all-too-familiar shrill whistling was heard. Cries of "Night Fury! Get down!" ran through out the village like wildfire. He tucked back, remembering his previous encounter with a Night Fury blast, and closed his eyes.
He leaned out to see where the beast had shot after the usual fw-BOOM! resounded off the buildings. And tried to figure out if he could do anything. Gobber was already in motion.
"Man the shop, Hiccup." He turned around and looked at Gobber. He was fixing his battle ax attachment on in place of his usual hook. "They need me out there." He turned then stopped, facing Hiccup again. "Stay. Put...There." Hiccup gave him a withering look, or as withering as he could. "You know what I mean, YA!" With that, Gobber charged out of the smithy and ran out, leaving Hiccup behind.
He looked at his invention, a bolas throwing machine that would allow him to take down dragons just as easily as the other Vikings in his village. He tweaked it a bit then shed his apron and threw his vest on again, grabbing the handles of his machine and racing out of the forge into the chaos-ridden streets. He ran around, batting aside various comments with off-hand ones of his own until he reached a small bluff overlooking the vast majority of the village.
It was almost silent from up here, with the occasional dragon roar or clash of metal. He shifted from foot to foot impatiently, anxious to prove himself.
"Gimme something to shoot at," he repeated over and over. A dark shadowy figure caused several stars to blink out then back in. He took his aim, orienting it toward the beast in the skies. A shrill whistling sound caught his ear and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The Night Fury fired, destroying a nearby catapult and he fired blindly, hearing an almost unbelievable sound. His bolas machine had worked?! He got up into a crouch and watched as his ebony quarry fell to Earth, just off Raven Point. "Oh, I hit it? Yes, I hit it!" He stood up, cheering for himself. "Did anyone see that?" His machine made a horrific noise as it was crushed. He turned around and saw a Monstrous Nightmare giving him the dirtiest look he could ever imagine. "Except for you..." He turned and started running, screaming when the dragon snapped at him or spat fire.
He raced into the heart of town, mentally kicking himself for not heading for the forest and Nina's bunker, before taking shelter behind a massive dragon torch. The Nightmare breathed a heavy stream of fire at his hiding spot and he curled in on himself, making himself as small as possible. He inched his way slowly around to see if the dragon was there when the attack stopped and felt a large mass fly by him. He yelped and ducked, half expecting to see a dragon ready to have a nice Hiccup-y snack.
Instead he saw his father, Stoick, helm slightly askew, but he quickly and smoothly adjusted it. The dragon tried to spray him with fire, but only managed a little tiddly-wink of flame. It gave the Viking chief a frightened look before being punched in the snout and taking off.
Stoick thrust his arms down, adjusting his cape without touching it, and turned back to Hiccup. The Dragon Torch took that moment to crumble, where it had been burned, and the head of the torch broke off, rolling down the hill the village was situated on.
Hiccup winced in sympathy as each pained cry was heard. "Sorry, Dad," he said awkwardly, barely glancing out of the corner of his eye at a furious Stoick. A pair of dragons flew by with a fair number of sheep in a net. He pinched his lips together, hoping his next statement would at least help his case. "Okay but I hit a Night Fury." He cried out when Stoick grabbed him by the shoulder of his vest and dragged him through town. "It's not like the other times, Dad, really. It went down just off Raven point, we can get a search party out there befor-"
"Stop!" an exasperated Stoick interrupted. "Just stop. Every time you step outside, disaster strikes. Why can't you follow the simplest orders! Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed!"
Creaking wheels could be heard along with a distant rumbling. Everyone turned their attention to the sound and soon Nina came into view along the path through the woods. She paused, coming around the cart to survey the situation. She seemed to feel the eyes on her because she backed up and hid behind her delivery as it came down the hill. She passed between father and son, keeping her eyes on the ground, steering slightly to avoid the biggest part of the crowd on her way to the butchers.
"Eh...does this help offset his...shortcomings? At least for tonight?" she asked, seeming very much like a sparrow before an eagle that is puffed up from a fight, small and frightened. Stoick nodded then turned and left. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything important."
"No, you didn't. You really saved my skin just now, thanks, I-" She held up a hand, stopping his words.
"Let's get out of here before you talk yourself into even more trouble," she sighed. He nodded, embarrassed. They headed into the woods. "I can tell just by the way you're scanning the woods you want to go off by yourself." He ducked his head sheepishly. "If you don't want to hang out, just say so."
"It's not that, I do want to hang out with you, it's just..." he trailed off. "I shot down a Night Fury and no one believes me."
"Well, Hiccup, you've cried 'Wolf!' too many times," she said.
"Run that by me again? In simpler terms?"
She sighed as they reached the glade. "Sit down, this is a pretty short story, but I'm exhausted. "
He sat down beside her and listened intently.
There was once a young shepherd boy, out tending the town's sheep. Growing bored, as all youngsters tend to do, he decided to get some company. He stood up and shouted "Wolf! Wolf!"
All the townsfolk heard him and came running, weapons of all sort in hand. When they arrived at the meadow, the shepherd boy was laughing and cackling, all around pleased with himself. A while later, he grew bored again. So he tried his trick again. "Wolf! Wolf!" he cried.
Fewer townsfolk came this time, and those that did came lightly armed. Seeing him laughing again, they turned and headed back to their daily tasks. Once again, growing bored, he used the same tactic. "Wolf! Wolf!"
Three people showed up this time. Seeing him once again laughing, they growled themselves and turned away, storming.
About an hour later, a silver-haired wolf showed up. Panicked, the boy cried, "Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!" But no one came to his aid. The wolf ate one sheep, then another before spying the boy and deciding he looked tasty. The wolf stalked toward him and ate him up.
At sun down, the townsfolk began to worry. The shepherd boy was always back by this point with all the sheep. They grabbed their weapons once again and went up to the meadow to check for them, half expecting to see the boy sleeping. They saw the blood and other remains, and were horrified.
If the boy hadn't lied so many times, he would have had everyone's help when the wolf really did come.
Hiccup sat silently staring into the distance. Nina nudged him and he blinked, shaking his head. "Well, that explains a lot," he said. "Thanks for telling me that, Nina."
She smiled at him and stood, heading back toward her bunker. "I'll cover for you if anyone asks where you've been," she threw over her shoulder.
"Thanks!" he responded. He hopped down off the log and headed into the trees, intent on finding that dragon.