CHAPTER 1!

Berk. Cold, damp, and full of Vikings who gloried in smashing things. For everyone else, this meant grand tales of battle and victory. For Hiccup Haddock, it meant working in the forge, out of sight, out of mind.

Through the tiny windows of the workshop, Hiccup could see the others living the lives he could only dream of. Astrid, a blur of blonde hair and ferocity, practiced throwing axes with deadly precision. Snotlout, barking orders and flexing his overgrown muscles, was already being prepped for greater things. Even Fishlegs, who towered with his bulk and awkward demeanor, had found a place within the tribe. Then there were the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who spent their days doing nothing constructive and still got more recognition than Hiccup ever had.

And here he was, stuck indoors, hammering out nails, braces, and sometimes swords that he would never wield. The thought stung, though he pretended it didn't. Every clang of the hammer echoed in his mind, not just against the metal but against the realization that this was his place. Not on the battlefield, not beside his father, but hidden away like a bad joke that Berk didn't want to laugh at anymore.

"You're daydreaming again!" Gobber's gruff voice startled him from his thoughts. Hiccup looked up to see his mentor casting a sideways glance at him, a knowing smirk on his face as he hammered away at a helmet. "You know, one day you might actually hit the iron instead of starin' at it."

Hiccup let out a soft sigh but couldn't help smiling. Gobber was a good man—a bit gruff and more than a little chaotic, but he was the only one who ever treated Hiccup like he belonged somewhere. Gobber never looked down on him, not even when everyone else in the village saw him as little more than a walking disaster.

"I'll try harder, Gobber," Hiccup said, his tone light, though his heart wasn't in it.

"Ha! That's the spirit, lad!" Gobber chuckled, setting down his hammer for a moment. "Keep this up, and you'll be runnin' this forge like me one day. Or, you know, after me. Which might be a while."

Hiccup's smile faltered. Running the forge? That wasn't what he wanted, not really. He wanted something more—something big, something that mattered. He wanted to be out there, fighting dragons like the others, proving to his father that he was capable of more than just making nails and fixing shields. He wanted to make his mark on Berk, to be someone they'd remember, not just the "runt" who couldn't throw an axe to save his life.

That's where the thought of his father crept in, dimming whatever light his banter with Gobber had brought. Stoick the Vast—the village chief, the man who single-handedly kept the dragon raids at bay, and the father who could never seem to find a shred of pride for his only son. Hiccup knew what he saw when Stoick looked at him: disappointment.

Stoick's expectations loomed large, too large for someone like Hiccup to meet. How could a kid who couldn't swing a sword or wrestle a sheep ever live up to Stoick's legacy? Hiccup had tried to tell himself he didn't care anymore, but that wasn't true. Not even close.

"I just... I just want to do something that matters," Hiccup muttered quietly, more to himself than to Gobber.

"Ah, lad," Gobber replied, pausing in his work to look at him more seriously. "You already matter. More than you know."

Hiccup gave a noncommittal shrug, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. "Yeah, tell that to the rest of Berk."

But deep down, he knew it wasn't the village he wanted to prove himself to. It was Stoick.

He glanced toward the door, where the sound of battle practice and dragon-fighting tactics echoed through the village. The teens were out there, learning the craft of war, preparing themselves for the day they'd face a real dragon and come out heroes. Meanwhile, Hiccup remained the misfit, the one who wasn't good enough to even join in. He was an afterthought—if they thought of him at all.

Hiccup's hand tightened on the hilt of the hammer, and for a fleeting moment, he imagined himself out there in the dragon training arena. What would it feel like to stand tall, to swing a sword or throw an axe like Astrid? To be part of the team? To show them all—especially his father—that he wasn't useless? That he could be more than the village screw-up?

The clang of Gobber's hammer jolted him back to reality. No, those were just dreams. Berk had a way of making sure Hiccup remembered exactly where he stood in the grand scheme of things—beneath everyone else.

"Alright, lad," Gobber said, stepping away from the forge and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'll finish up here. You've done enough damage for the day."

Hiccup chuckled. "Thanks... I think."

As he moved toward the door, Gobber's voice followed him. "You'll find your place, Hiccup. Just wait."

Hiccup hesitated for a moment before stepping outside. "Yeah... someday."

But as the wind hit his face and the noise of the village grew louder, he couldn't help but feel the nagging urge for something more—something beyond Berk, beyond the forge, beyond his father's shadow.

He needed to find his own path. And maybe... just maybe, the answer was out there, hidden in the skies, waiting for him to discover it.

A bit short for a first chapter, will pick it up writing more tomorrow, or in the next few days.