A/N: 10 points if you can spot all the references to the movies and to ingame tactics! Also, there is an extremely, extremely good reason for someone's knowledge of Draconian.

This was Berk

This was Berk.

It was a remote village located on the coast of the Bloodbrine Sea, far north of the uppity Ishgardians from the Holy See. In other words, very cold and miserable, but in practice, surprisingly strong and self-sufficient. The farming was somewhat decent, and together with the excellent fishery, the food was plentiful and people rarely went hungry. The village had been there for seven generations.

However, all the buildings were new. Snowstorms and regular attacks by the Dravanian Horde had a tendency to destroy the architecture, after all.

Most people would have left and founded a village in a safer region. But the Berkians? They were stubborn and resilient. Sturdy would be another word. They were the descendants of Highlander heroes who had aided Ishgard some few hundred years earlier, and they couldn't be prouder.

They also happened to have an export that was of particular importance to Ishgard. It meant they received support from the High Houses and were held in high regard. It was part of their tradition and culture. To speak of Berk was to speak of them.

Their dragoons.

Dragoons, mighty dragon slayers, symbolic of Ishgard. Haldrath, the first Azure Dragoon, had made the founding of Ishgard possible a thousand years earlier. With his mighty spear, he tore out the eye of the Dragon King Nidhogg. Thus began the Holy War against Dravania. The dragoons were the first line of defense against its horde.

As a village on the front lines of the fight against the Dravanians, Berk had an unprecedented amount of opportunities to practice fighting dragons. Its people had developed many methods of attack and had collected a large amount of knowledge on their enemies. Their reputation for raising strong dragoons brought in outsiders and even members of the Houses, all making residence in the village specifically for the purpose of training. Berk's dragoons were, to say the least, renowned in all of Ishgard.

Hiccup wanted to be one.

"What are yeh doin' out here?" one man shouted as he ran by. A marauder by the looks of it. "Get back inside!"

"Qualified lancer!" he shouted back.

"Wha – pullin' my leg, are yeh?" he glared.

Hiccup groaned. "No, seriously! I passed!"

Barely,he mentally added. But I did.

The marauder stared for a moment. Then his jaw set evenly.

"If you get killed, not my problem," he waved a hand. "Get to yer station then."

Get to your station. He acknowledges it!

Hiccup saluted. "Ser!"

He rushed off in the other direction of the marauder, an odd giddy feeling in his heart even as a burst of flame exploded overhead.

He acknowledged me! See, I can totally do this! This is what grinding through lancer training gets you! I can do it if I stick with it, I can become a dragoon –

Something boomed from the side. Hiccup yelped and darted away just as the house to his side collapsed. He heard an avian shriek accompanied by the battle cries of several fighters.

"And that's my cue to get to the smithy," he said dryly as he sprinted off.

The marauder was the only one who told him to go back inside. Other fighters passed, all recognizing him, but the spear on his back and the lancer visor over his face was apparently enough to convince them that he belonged on the battlefield that night. Either that, or Stoick had been exceedingly loud that evening about how his son had finished and passed lancer training to become a full-fledged fighter. Hiccup grinned to himself as he wove down familiar paths.

Still just a lad of fifteen years, but stubborn and with a will, he had said. He's one of us, he had said.

All that hard work had paid off. Now he could make his mark.

Probably. If he didn't get maimed or killed in the process. He had to stay realistic, after all.

Something soared above, accompanied by the whistle of wingtips slicing the air. Hiccup looked up, recognizing the sound, and immediately ducked towards the nearest wall, covering his head, knowing exactly what it was.

"Night Fury! Get down!"

A concentrated bolt flashed and exploded. A group of fighters screamed. Hiccup felt dust and hot wind brush over him, and his heart pounded as fire lit up the near watchtower. He heard something roaring in the distance, people shouting over by the tower, and the shrieks of Dravanians in the sky as they continued their onslaught.

He steeled himself and rushed back out of the cover of the wall and towards the smithy.

Like that, a voice inside him smirked. A Night Fury. The ungodly offspring of lightning and death. Never before seen. That'd be a way to make my mark.

The rest of way to the smithy was blessedly empty. Loud, thanks to the battle cries of Hyur, Elezen, and dragon all across the village and the echoing explosions that came with it, but Hiccup ran into no more particular danger or hurrying knight along the way.

He rounded the final corner, nearly slipping on the wet stone path, to see the smithy already warm and lit. Several shadows ran about, and Hiccup could recognize each one, though the largest one, was of first notice. Helmeted, with one missing hand replaced by an axe – Gobber. Smith, owner of the smithy, and head of the dragoon trainee program.

"Hiccup! Git over here, yeh talkin' fishbone!"

Also, a close family friend and Hiccup's smithing mentor for several years.

Hiccup cringed as he dove into the smithy. Gobber had been calling him that ever since his loud self-demeaning rant a moon earlier. Of course, it had also inspired a specific training regimen that had paid off just the day before…

Speaking of which, all of his classmates who had also passed the final lancer exam stood in the smithy with him.

Snotlout snorted under his breath. "'Talking fishbone'… ha, maybe you'll make a good dragon toothpick."

Hiccup rolled his eyes at his cousin. The athletic boy was also wearing scalemail, but had chosen a more traditional horned helmet rather than a lancer visor. "The best. I could even keep it entertained while cleaning its teeth. Jokes and puns by the second," he answered dryly.

"Still can't believe you passed," Tuffnut crossed his arms. He was in leather armor and wielded the double-ended spear with incredible poise. "Like, how'd you even do it?"

"Yeah, Useless couldn't even pick up a spear head last year!" his twin sister Ruffnut added with a sneer. She matched her brother in both gear and smirk.

Hiccup frowned. "Maybe I worked really hard?"

"Lay off him you three, we've got more important things, newbies," Gobber snapped. The trainees instantly snapped to attention, lined up with their spears in hand.

Hiccup found himself next to Fishlegs, who smiled encouragingly despite clear nervousness at their first real battle. The boy was the largest of the group, though with such a jovial disposition and love of studying their enemies that Hiccup had often wondered how he was going to survive as a lancer. Which left the last member of the class…

Astrid.

He barely caught the sight of her blond braid swinging as she stood confident, face determined and head held high. She seemed so prepared and ready for the fight in chainmail and a visor, years of lancer training paying off tonight, and he could just imagine her moving in combat with the spear, fierce as the firelight illuminated her beautiful form, and –

Ahem. He needed to stop.

First battle though, right? Maybe killing a dragon tonight will get her to notice me…

"All right, all o' yeh! Today's yeh're first battle as full fledged lancers!" Gobber announced. He eyed each of the carefully. "But you ain't tested in battle yet. We're not so bad that we're throwin' yeh straight into the fray. Be madness! And a bit cruel," he added with a slight chuckle. "Now, as excited as all o' yeh must be 'bout goin' in and fightin' the Dravanians… that's not your job. Your job, my friends, is to keep a steady supply line goin' through from here to the main fightin' at the armory and food storages, and to support wherever needed. Not to dive in an' help the dragoons. Hear that? No front lines. No engagin' the enemy! Any questions?"

"Yeah," Fishlegs raised his hand. "Um, what if a dragon attacks us first? Do we still engage?"

Gobber sighed. "You're lancers. Fight if you have to. Finish off a wounded dragon. Keep the civilians and children safe. Do what yeh need to do. That clear?"

"Yes Gobber!"

"Good. And remember!" he added on, "If a dragon comes after you and you know it's out of your league, what do yeh do?"

"Bring it to a marauder!" everyone chorused together.

"Correct! Now come over here and get your linkpearls. You lot'll need 'em."

All six of them rushed forward to grab one from Gobber, who held them out in a basket with his one good hand. Hiccup managed to squeeze in between Tuffnut and Snotlout to fish one out, feeling giddy all the while. He had never used one of these outside of survival and field training practices. It felt momentous.

He fit the small bauble into his ear, just in time to hear Snotlout touch his and shout.

"SNOTLOUT!"

He jumped and held his ear. It was as though his cousin had just yelled from right next to him. Which he had, but from the other side. It rung through his head regardless.

"Gah!" Astrid yelped. She glared at Snotlout, who only shrugged and grinned at her. "Why do you need to do that every time we get these?"

"'Cuz I'm awesome, obviously," he pumped a fist into the air.

Ruffnut rolled her eyes. "Kill our ears, why don'tcha…"

"All right!" Gobber shouted. Everyone snapped back to attention. "Got your gear? Your linkpearls? Your spears? Good! You three, armory line, you three, food storage line, get goin'!"

Everything became a blur of activity as Hiccup dove into his duties, following Ruffnut and Tuffnut. He grabbed whatever he was directed towards and ran with whatever he could carry, barely aware of Gobber's shouts as everyone rushed about for any last minute preparations. Then his feet were moving and everyone had split into two groups, making their way through the dark streets.

This part, he was used to.

However, he quickly learned that running through the village during a dragon attack alongside the twins was far different from doing so by himself.

"What's in these things?" Tuffnut exclaimed as the trio ducked by a wall. Something off to the side exploded and showered gravel all over them. "You think rocks? Crystals for the cannons? Ooh, Bertha cannons!"

"I wanna' set off a Big Bertha!" Ruffnut crowed. "Freeze 'em dragons!"

Hiccup looked at both of them warily. Their penchant for destruction made them oddly tolerable of some of his own mishaps.

"What else do you think everyone at the armory needs?" he shouted, hefting the pack further up his back. It made his spear nearly bang into his head. "I'm pretty sure these are potions and arrows!"

"Bah! Boring!" both twins scoffed.

"We're seeing the Dravanians up close!" Ruffnut grinned, cackling.

Her brother let out a whoop. "Gonna' see the dragoons in action! I'm taking point!"

"No me!" Ruffnut swatted her brother.

"Me!"

Hiccup could guess what that left him with. "I'll take rear checkpoint," he sighed in resignation.

Both siblings looked at him with expectant, sneering grins.

"Good," Tuffnut snorted. "Useless won't get in the way of the dragoons."

"That was one time."

"She almost lost her arm."

Hiccup cringed and decided not to reply. He didn't need to be reminded of that. Thank the gods for conjurers and healing magic.

He listened to the twins bickering all the way down to the end of the supply line, where several lancers stood in wait. All of them dropped off their loads, saluted, and turned on their heels to take what would be their positions for the rest of the night.

Tuffnut had apparently won the fight, so he stopped at the first point, waving cheerfully as the other two continued on. Then Ruffnut stopped at the next point, snorting contemptuously and muttering to herself as Hiccup made the last third of the journey to back to the smithy himself.

Gobber was still there, having already piled a new set of supplies to bring back. "Ah, first one back, eh?" he chuckled as Hiccup stumbled back in, panting heavily. "There's yer next set. Careful, got bombs and carbonite in there. Don't tell the twins. And don't drop the thing!"

Hiccup took a few moments to catch his breath before lugging the next set onto his back. "Yeah yeah, sure, I won't," he gasped. "Blowing myself up isn't really on my to do list tonight."

"Mighty bad luck if yeh did, just havin' passed to full lancer," Gobber shook his fake hand at him. Hiccup noted that it was the mechanical one, with its functional grip and partial internal clockwork. "I'd like to see you at dragoon training, yeh know?"

"Yeah," he replied, turning with his load. "Me too – Astrid, hey - "

She had just entered the smithy, barely winded and fierce as ever in the firelight.

"Dravanians diverting towards the mills," she reported, pointing. "Snotlout says his dad needs another marauder."

Gobber rolled his eyes. "And why didn't Snotlout shout this over linkpearl? Fine fine, I'll be there," he waved at her. He reached for his wall of arms, clearly looking for wherever he'd thrown the axe attachment.

Astrid nodded and leaned down to heft a bag of supplies over her shoulder. She glanced at Hiccup and gave him an even look, then ran back out the smithy.

Hiccup beat down whatever his heart was doing in his chest and turned his attention back towards Gobber. Axe hand, axe hand… there.

"On the anvil, Gobber," he called.

"Aha! Now what's it doin' over there?"

Hiccup chuckled, then left the smithy to bring the supplies to Ruffnut.

His next trip back, Gobber was gone. He picked up the next bag and continued on.

The trip after that, Gobber was still gone, and he passed by Astrid on the path in. Ruffnut told him she'd seen dragoons bring down a Dravanian.

The next trip, Tuffnut reported over linkpearl that he got to set off a Big Bertha when the lancers needed backup. Snotlout countered him and said some very colorful things that everyone in the linkshell heard. Ruffnut was moping about it when Hiccup passed the supplies to her. This was when Hiccup got his brilliant idea.

The final trip, he decided to put said brilliant idea into action.

"Took you long enough, slowpoke!" Ruffnut barked as he approached. "You're getting tired already, huh – whoa, what is that?"

Hiccup grinned as he wheeled the contraption up to her. The supplies were piled on top of it.

"Ruffnut, wanna' trade places?" he asked.

She gaped at it.

"Does it explode things?" she asked, her jaw still dropped.

"Not exactly," Hiccup replied smugly, patting it on the side. "Imagine a regular bola launcher. Add extra velocity to the launch and an aetheric manipulator to emulate the effects of - "

"Smaller words!" Ruffnut shot in. She looked annoyed, but even Hiccup could tell she was interested in this device.

He brought up one hand. "Extra strong bola launcher." He brought up the other hand. "Mini Bertha." He brought them together. "Freezing killing machine of doom."

Ruffnut stared for a moment. Then her eyes turned bright with pure ecstasy.

"I want one," she stated.

Hiccup laughed. This was possibly the only reason why he tolerated the twins and they tolerated him – they always approved of his attempts at war machines. Even the utter failures, as long as something blown up in the process.

"Gotta test it out first," he winked. Ruffnut cackled.

"Get going, Useful," she jerked her thumb down the path with a solid grin.

Hiccup ran into no other interruptions as he pushed his Bola Bertha down the path to the armory. The fighting was more intense now than it had been during the first run, and several buildings were on fire. Dragons were swooping across the area, occasionally bringing a fighter with them; more than once, the silhouette of a dragoon jumped high into the air to spear one.

I'm gonna' be one of those. I'll be a Berkian dragoon. I'm signed up for the training. It's gonna' happen!

He rushed past the checkpoint where Tuffnut was supposed to be designated. The teen was nowhere to be seen.

That can't be good… I guess he's still at that Bertha cannon…

Something was roaring to the side. Hiccup's gaze flashed to the dragon in question as it scaled up a watchtower, and several archers and a marauder were already onto it. "Monstrous Nightmare," he muttered as he pushed his Bola Bertha further. "They really are all out tonight… just need that Night Fury…"

He could see the supply dropoff now. No one was manning it. It was clear that everyone was fighting at this point, regardless of their initial positions.

This meant that no one could fault him for joining in.

Perfect.

He stopped briefly to dump the supplies off, then wheeled the Bola Bertha towards the armory. He could hear them now, commands being given, battle cries of both man and dragon, and the explosions of dragon fire and Bertha cannons. He just needed a clear space and a good shot at where that Night Fury might fire at…

He counted himself lucky that most of the fighters were surrounding the armory. He found a spot up on the hill just adjacent, empty save for several felled arrows and what was apparently the collapsed remains of a workshed. Just enough privacy, and now he just needed to aim it.

With a grunt, he heaved the protective canvas off and checked the crystals on the side. Aether nodes and manipulator look good, he thought to himself. First bola's already loaded. Let's do this thing.

He was determined.

He switched the safety lever off, then situated himself behind the cannon.

The fighting was fierce. Hiccup could see through the cannon's scope just how much, with marauders and lancers everywhere, archers darting in between them and conjurers busy casting their healing spells to keep everyone alive. Every now and then a burst of flame or ice would appear that came from no dragon; the thaumaturges had to be hiding somewhere nearby.

There was a brush of anxiety within him as he thought about the different combat classes and designations he could have chosen. Berk was known for its lancers and dragoons, but it had its own small schools for archers and mages. He knew the basics from every single one, as all people growing up in Berk did – Cure spells were quite possibly among the most useful things he had ever learned in his life – but for overall aptitude, he had been horrible at every one…

I'm a lancer now. It worked out. I had to work really hard, but I did it, and here I am…

Dravanians were swooping around now, their screaming shrieks painful even from this distance. The dragoons were already there, jumping high into the air with their spears aloft, shouting for the glory of Ishgard.

Hiccup scanned the sky, making a note to make certain not to hit any of the fighters.

"Come on come on come on, give me something to shoot…"

There were plenty of things to shoot of course, but he had his mind on one particular dragon. He was going to do it. Make his mark tonight. He was a lancer, but he could do more too…

A whistling sound pierced the air.

There it is.

"Night Fury! Get Down!" someone shouted from beyond.

The armory tower!

The dragons had been circling the tower, but now they scattered as the whistling sound drew closer. Hiccup readied the launch lever, watching, knowing that the flame would illuminate this dragon for just the slightest instant –

A pulsing sound. A bolt of light. A thick, thudding noise as it made contact with the tower.

The explosion illuminated everything in the sky by the armory. There had been countless weapons, aether crystals, even bomb ashes and black powder stored there. But now everything was bright, and all Hiccup needed was a shadow… a swift shadow speeding past against the lit backdrop of sky and fire…

There.

He pulled the lever.

Several things happened all at once.

The first of which, and of most immediate concern, was that the Bola Bertha exploded.

Hiccup suddenly found himself on the ground with the air knocked out of him, gasping for breath. Where the cannon had once been was now a giant frozen crystal of ice with bits and pieces of metal and wood trapped in its matrix.

He had one short moment to stare at the bizarre sight before he heard a snap of a bola, the rush of ice magic, and a draconian scream.

The shadow had fallen.

Hiccup immediately sat up straight. He still struggled to pull air back into his lungs, but the excitement of the moment took all precedence.

He'd done it.

He'd hit it.

He'd hit the Night Fury!

"Woooooooo!" he whooped, jumping to his feet and taking several deep breaths. He pumped his fists into the air, not caring that his invention had been utterly destroyed. "I did it! I hit it! I hit a Night Fury! Did anyone see me hit it?"

There was no one on the hill. All focus remained on the tower.

Hiccup's shoulders sagged. "Oh come on…"

"Quite a shot, hatchling."

The voice was low and rankled with a snarl. A chill went up Hiccup's spine as a hot wind breathed onto him. He turned slowly to look behind him.

A Dravanian aevis growled at him.

"Except for you," he said dryly.

The dragon snarled and lunged.

Hiccup yelped and darted backwards, but too slowly. The dragon's face was suddenly much closer to him than he ever wanted to see, his right arm came up automatically to shield him, and then pain had erupted from his right forearm as a set of jaws clamped shut over it.

He screamed.

Something instinctual kicked in. His spear was suddenly off his back and in his left hand, jabbing forward over and over. He had forgotten any attack combos, and with only one arm to use, all he could do was repeat the motion and pray to Halone that his spear strike true and the aevis would stop attacking and oh Twelve his arm it was chewing and mauling into his arm it hurt it hurt it hurt -

His spear made contact with something soft, and the aevis suddenly shrieked and released its hold. Hiccup ripped his arm away and dashed off, gasping and thanking whoever it was that invented armguards, because he couldn't imagine losing his arm and this was worse than anything he had ever experienced. And then the aevis shrieked again, and Hiccup heard wingbeats and death threats from behind, and if panic hadn't already set hold, now it gripped him like the breath of ice itself.

He was hopeless.

He needed help.

He needed to find a marauder.

It took all his willpower to work through the pain, but with the spear in his left hand, he had little choice. He grit his teeth and brought his right hand up to his ear to touch the linkpearl as he raced back into the village proper.

"Help!" he shouted desperately. "Aevis on my tail – I'm by the armory!"

Gobber's voice came over first.

"Thal's balls, Hiccup! What're yeh doin' over there?!"

The aevis screeched and lunged forward. It only missed because Hiccup ducked under a collapsed beam and rolled through a tight cluster of wreckage.

"Save the lecture!" he screamed back. "I'm looking for a marauder – not finding one right now – gah!"

The aevis' face bit through splintered beams and roared at him. "Come here little Hyur!"

"No I will not!" he yelled at it, and he burst into a run again as it broke through and clambered after him.

It was finally too much. His bloodied arm fell limp to his side, flopping uselessly as he tried to escape from the aevis. He shot around a corner and attempted to focus.

Cure spell Cure spell Cure spell -

Light appeared over the injury. The cool feeling trickled over, easing the pain and bringing some sense of normality back to his arm. He tried to ready another Cure spell, bring the aether from the natural life around him to heal himself, because he needed this pain to end…

Wingbeats against air.

"Come here!" the aevis shrieked.

"Aaaaaaahh!"

He managed to get the spell off and ran without another thought. The arm was still in pain, but he could move his fingers again, and that was what mattered. He gripped the spear handle as though it were his lifeline, perfectly aware that it really was. If that aevis cornered him, his spear was the last defense he had.

Everyone in the linkshell was shouting now, all of them sounding far more concerned than Hiccup would have expected from them. But he wasn't listening because there was an angry dragon after him, and for some reason he could understand every single shriek and curse it spat at him, which only made things far worse.

"Hatchling-murderers! Nix scum! Vermin! Defilers! Wretched spoken ones! You will burn, little Hyur, come to your death, I will crush your pathetic skull in my jaws!"

Hiccup tried not to listen as he darted back and forth between crumbling stone and broken beams. Things crashed behind him, and all he knew was that he had to find a marauder or more experienced fighter for help, because he was just a lancer fresh out of training and yes maybe he was a fullfledged lancer but he wasn't a very good one and Twelve he hated his life right now, oh great he had just run into an open square with nothing for cover –

Three figures. Two with lances. One with an axe.

He recognized that figure anywhere.

"Dad!"

"Hiccup, there you are - "

The aevis came screeching around the side, still spitting its curses at him.

"Ishgardian! You will die! All of you will die!"

Stoick's eyes widened. His eyes darted between Hiccup and the dragon as though he instantly knew what had happened. Then he grabbed a tomahawk from his belt.

"Hiccup, duck!"

He did, and the tomahawk whizzed over his head and straight at the aevis' head.

Its cry of pain told Hiccup that his father had landed the hit.

The aevis immediately changed directions, charging at Stoick. The man let out a great raging battle roar and rushed forward to meet it, bringing his axe down in a great overpowering release.

Hiccup practically collapsed, catching his breath as he watched. It was a sight to see experienced fighters against a dragon. A marauder holding their own against the enemy, while lancers worked from the flank and back to take it down. Hiccup was used to the drills, but it was different watching it in person, especially now that he had completed training. He imagined that the addition of archers and thaumaturges would only bring it down faster.

The relief was broken the moment the aevis let out a piercing shriek.

Stoick and the lancers reeled backwards as a red bloodthirsty energy erupted out, striking in all directions. Hiccup yelped, but it dissipated just as it brushed against his chest. It was a hot, burning pain, light against him but leaving the others in its immediate range gasping.

Then the aevis thrashed with its wings and tail, knocking the lancers away, and proceeded to advance on Stoick.

And it suddenly struck him that there wasn't a conjurer in sight.

I'm so stupid!

"Dad!"

He dove in with his spear.

Drills didn't matter now. He couldn't even remember the basic combination of attacks. He was just stabbing forward over and over with his spear, barely aware of the wrenching pain in his arm or the shouts of the lancers behind him.

What he did notice was the dragon screaming.

"You will die! You will die, all your brethren will die, Ishgard will fall! Our lord Nidhogg will rise once more! This place will be razed to the ground! You will die! Die! Die!"

It had to stop. It had to stop its guttural speech and snarling sounds, its threats of death and undulations of glory. It had to stop attacking, it had to stop moving, and he just kept stabbing, praying to Halone that his spear strike true, because he couldn't take this and it had to stop -

"Hiccup. Hiccup! It's dead!"

He stopped as his spear hit unmoving flesh. The feel of it squelching in suddenly made his stomach curl, and for the first time he realized exactly where he was and what he had just done.

Dead. Dead dragon. I helped kill a dragon. I killed this dragon.

The stench of the beast's blood finally caught up to him. Its blood, his own blood, roasted flesh, brimstone, it diving at him, it talking to him, these things were alive, something felt wrong –

He staggered, frozen in utter shock as he stared at the dead aevis before him. A large muscled hand caught him before he could fall to the ground.

"Easy there son," Stoick urged, his voice calm and soft. "You did it. It's a rush, the first kill. But it only gets better."

Hiccup nodded dumbly, not processing the words. He leaned forward with his right hand, putting his weight there as he accepted his father's support, only to yelp as a sharp pain shot through his forearm.

His spear clattered to the ground as he grabbed at his arm, gasping.

Stoick immediately reached forward. "Hiccup! What happened?"

He didn't answer, hissing as he lifted the arm towards the firelight. With the excitement of battle fading, the pain from the bite was now at the fore of his thoughts.

With his injury illuminated, even Stoick let out a worried curse. The tooth marks and mauled flesh were visible now; his earlier haphazard healing job barely held it together.

"Thal! That thanks to this beast?!" Stoick kicked a boot towards the dead aevis.

Hiccup grit his teeth at the pain and nodded. He wasn't sure what to think right now. He was injured and had just killed a dragon. He should be more excited, or relieved, or something, but… there was nothing but shock and disgust.

A gentle light suddenly appeared over his arm. Hiccup watched as a cool sensation washed over it, easing the pain and knitting the flesh back together. The tooth marks faded, skin regrew, and then there was no pain at all…

He blinked and looked up as the light vanished and his father removed his hand.

"Uh… thanks Dad," he muttered, not sure what else to say.

Stoick gave him a kind smile and patted him on the shoulder. "Least I could do. Should probably get Gothi to check just in case though. You did good tonight, son."

He paused for a moment as though something was caught in his throat.

"Maybe I should be congratulatin' you," he replied. Hiccup looked up at him, but couldn't tell if his father looked proud or… sad. "First dragon, first blood. Yer growin' up, son. Welcome to the ranks of proud Berkian warriors."

"Ah…"

Now he really didn't know what to say. What he had just been through was indeed an initiation, and he was fairly sure that he didn't like it.

He was saved from any other comments by an archer running towards them. An elezen, judging from her tall height and pointed ears, and certainly not a native Berkian from her accent, but a proud member of the village nonetheless.

"Chief, they're retreating from the main lines!" she reported.

Stoick nodded. "Good. Make sure to take care of the stragglers. Less dragons to report back to their nest."

"Aye, ser."

She saluted and hurried off. Stoick waved to the two lancers there, both of whom looked a bit stunned. "You two, go join 'er."

"Y-yes Chief."

The two spared another look towards Hiccup, then followed the archer.

Stoick sighed, wiping his forehead. He scowled at the dead aevis again and kicked it for good measure. Hiccup winced at it. He had no idea how he was supposed to feel at this exact moment.

Then his father turned to him with an even glare.

"So now that the danger is out of the way, and my son now knows what it's like killin' a dragon and near havin' an arm chewed off… what exactly were yeh doin' out on the front lines by the armory side when I explicitly told you not to go to the front lines?!"

Hiccup opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. Then opened it again.

"How'd you know?"

Stoick tapped his earpiece. "Linkpearl. The new dragoon trainees aren't the only ones with a linkshell, yeh know. Gobber's hooked into the organizin' one."

"Oh."

So that's how he knew where I was.

His father had now crossed his arms and looked expectant. Hiccup wasn't looking forward to answering.

"I, uh…" he began, gulping. Stoick's stern eyes were on him. Oh boy. "I… was testing out that bola launcher thing I was working on and it kind of exploded and maybe that's how I got that aevis' attention but it worked and I hit a Night Fury."

His father looked even more unamused now. "Uh huh."

"I really did, Dad!"

Stoick groaned and smacked his forehead. "Well I suppose it's a little late to tell you that this isn't a game and I have a village to take care of. And that these… shenanigans o' yours aren't helpin'."

"Yep. Just a bit late now," Hiccup replied with a grimace. He delicately poked his right forearm, half expecting it to scream in protest. "Sorry… Dad."

"So I don't need to tell you not to do it again."

"Nope. No need."

"And now you know firsthand exactly why I gave the order in the first place."

"Yes. Yes I do."

Stoick frowned at him. Hiccup could see the disappointment, but there was something hard and stern too.

"You're lucky," his father stated. "This is why we give these orders. Remember the lesson, son. Not everyone lives to do so."

Hiccup nodded solemnly. Oh, he would certainly remember this. It wasn't every day you nearly had your arm bitten off by a dragon.

It seemed the somewhat much-less-severe-than-expected scolding had finished, as Stoick turned away briefly to glance down one of the pathways. Someone was running down it towards them.

"Right," he stated. "I have fighters to work with and a village to clean up. The trainees are meetin' down by the smithy right now. I'll let Gobber know yeh're coming."

Hiccup nodded. "Okay Dad. I'll go. But – I really did hit that Night Fury, I'm serious."

Stoick gave him an exasperated look. "I don't have time for this, Hiccup."

"Really! Would I make this big a deal out of it after nearly getting my arm chomped off?"

His father looked unconvinced. "You had a rough night. Go to Gobber, then get some rest."

Hiccup threw his arms up into the air. The excitement of that moment had come back, and he was not going to let that achievement go to waste after everything with the aevis and the arm biting. "Come on Dad! I can even prove it to you, it shrieked and went down in the woods over by Raven Point, if it's still alive it's trapped and hurt pretty bad, come on I can show you - "

"In the mornin'," Stoick growled. He placed one firm gauntleted hand on his son's shoulder. "Check in with Gobber at the smithy, then go home, get yourself cleaned up, and get some rest, Hiccup. I think yeh got enough excitement for one night."

"But really, I did - "

"Enough!" Stoick shouted, waving him away. "Listen, I got me a pretty big village cleanup to handle. I don't have time for yer nonsense right now. Just go get some rest. You need it."

Hiccup opened his mouth to object, but his father had already turned to address the approaching dragoon. He scowled in irritation, picked up his spear, and stomped off.

He never listens!

He was in a foul mood all the way down to the smithy. If his father wouldn't listen or believe him, there was no chance anyone else would. He had shot down that Night Fury! He at least deserved some recognition for that, right?

As if killing that aevis wasn't enough.

The moment came back to him, and he suddenly felt sick. He recalled the feeling of his spear in its flesh, its speech, and how much he had wanted it to just stop. He had been responsible for making it do so. There was an odd mixture of relief and unsettled disgust churning in his stomach at it all. Nothing felt right.

He didn't like this.

Gobber looked incredibly relieved to see him when he walked into the smithy.

"Hiccup! Yer the last one, good to see yeh back safe, Stoick told me all about it!"

He nodded. He was too overwhelmed with everything to come back with anything else.

Gobber gave a heavy sigh. "Good good, so yeh see why we have those drills, real combat's anythin' but unpredictable – oh. I see," his tone changed. Hiccup could tell that Gobber had seen his arm. "I see. So that's how it was." The man's eyes flickered up to the spear tip as well. "You didn't clean yer spear."

"Oh," he said simply. "Forgot. Sorry."

Gobber gave him a pitying look and threw him a rag. He caught it and quietly began cleaning the blade.

"Well congratulations," the smith commented as Hiccup focused a little too keenly on his task. "I figured yeh might be a bit more excited about it though?"

"I thought I would be too," he replied sullenly. He gave the spear tip one more good wipe before tossing the used rag to the pile in the corner of the smithy.

Gobber sighed. "Oh don't be like that, Hiccup," he waved his axe hand as Hiccup gave him a pointed look. "You killed a dragon. Happens ta' everyone eventually. Yeh just started a little early, is all. Get a good sense of what fightin's all about, hey?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug as he placed the spear onto his back. "Sure."

Gobber had a rather concerned look on his face now. "You okay there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tired, is all. Uh, debrief or something, right?"

The man still eyed him, but nodded. "Yes, debrief. Post-battle talk that I won't give much of 'cause there ain't much to talk about. You an' Tuffnut are the only ones that ended up getting pulled off o' yer assigned duties. It happens. An' from there, go with where yeh're needed. Follow orders. Kill dragons. No testin' new cannons in the middle of fightin'. Might be more, but I think it's better saved for when you lot are together for dragoon trainin'. Mornin' after this one. Yeah Hiccup, yeh don't look well, go back and sleep. Look like you could use it."

There was more unsaid in that, but Hiccup could guess the subtext. First battles are rough. Sleep it off.

He nodded in reply. "Thanks Gobber."

He reached up to his ear to remove the linkpearl and its connecting earpiece, but the man shook his head and waved his axe hand. "Keep 'em both. Useful, all o' it."

Hiccup smiled tiredly and waved. "Thanks then. See you later."

He still didn't feel anywhere close to relieved as he stepped out of the smithy. It didn't help that the rest of his class having already seen Gobber, had decided to convene just around the corner from it as they conversed about the raid.

Or better yet, based on their immediate attention towards him, they had been waiting for him to show up.

Fishlegs looked eager to see him, but Snotlout edged over first.

"So Useless got the attention of a dragon," he leered in at him. "Hey, didja have fun being useless, Useless – whoa. Is that blood?!"

"Yes," Hiccup stated.

"Whose?"

"Mine and the dragon's."

No one said anything. They all stared at him instead, but Hiccup was simply grateful for their silence.

"The Bola Bertha exploded by the way, Ruff," he waved absently at her. "The ice remains are up on the hill by the armory if you wanna' take a look. I'll show you the next version when it's ready."

"Thanks?" she said. She sounded very uncertain and torn, but over what Hiccup couldn't tell. He didn't want to think about it at the moment in any case.

"What happened to the dragon?"

He blinked and turned to Astrid, who had her arms crossed. She looked expectant.

Even with his unease surrounding everything related to the aevis, he still couldn't stop himself from stuttering.

"K-killed it," he replied, looking away. Don't look at her, don't look at her. "Found Dad. He got it off me. It attacked more. And yeah. Spear, in. It works. Also, arm mauling and Cure spells. I, uh, I'm just gonna' go home now."

He stared firmly at his feet as he marched away, not wanting to know what she thought. He didn't want to spend any time with the other teens if at all possible, not now.

That could've gone better…

Hiccup just couldn't reconcile it with himself. They were a village of people that killed dragons. Berk trained dragoons, the front line in dragon slayers. Twelve, Ishgard itself was dedicated to it! They had been fighting in this Holy War against dragons for a thousand years! He had been wanting this for so long, to slay a dragon, gain recognition for it, make his mark to show everyone that the odd runt of a son to Stoick the Vast was perfectly capable as legacy to great dragon slayers. And he had done it. He should be happy and proud that he had been able to kill a dragon just out of lancer training.

Right?

Why? He thought to himself as he trodded into his house. It felt distant and cold, as though the walls themselves were bearing down and judging him. Why does it feel so wrong? Why did I – but why do I – none of this makes sense! Do other Berkians go through this?!

His father's words floated back to him.

It only gets better.

The Night Fury. He had hit it.

Everything started from there.

That had been his target. That had been his plan, his mark. The aevis had changed things, yes, but that didn't change the aim of making that failed Bola Bertha, or everything that had occurred prior to that dragon's attack.

Yes, perhaps he was sleep-deprived, and perhaps he was still a little in shock from his very first dragon-slaying as well as his very first injury in battle, but he knew he had shot down that Night Fury. He had heard the snap of the bola, the burst of ice, the dragon's screech as it fell. He wasn't going to let a prize like that go.

Hiccup rushed to a basin and took a moment to throw some water over his face. Then he took a deep breath to steel himself, grabbed his sketchbook, and ran straight back out of the house.

It only gets better.

He had to find that dragon.

This'll fix everything.