So this fic is a spur of a moment but I don't give a fuck anymore. After seeing the trailer for the live action I was angry and thus started watching the masterpiece that is How to train your dragon and this came up. A couple of years ago, there was a version on where How to Train Your Dragon characters replace Harry Potter character, it was taken down unfortunately, and then another person try their hand at it on here but they stop after book 4 which I was sad. So I decide to try my hand in it with my own spin of it. Having Hiccup be a female, cause I like female main characters because there were hardly ones I like growing up.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, please leave a review!

There were dragons once, we were all told this when we were small.

There were great, grim sky dragons that nestled on the cliff tops like gigantic scary birds. Little brown, scuttly dragons that hunted down mice and rats in well-organized packs. Preposterously huge sea dragons that were twenty times as big as a blue whale.

When our parents told us that, we would laugh. Laugh with joy and in awe shining through our eyes. But we would never believe it. There was no bone or fang in the earth for us simple humans to find and remember. So it wasn't hard to believe that we wouldn't think of them as nothing more than folk tales.

But some people were ok with that.

Legends say that when the ground quakes or lava spews from the earth. It's the dragons, still letting us know they're still here. Waiting for us to still figure out how to get along.

So while the world believes that the dragons are gone if they ever existed at all. But some people will say otherwise, with a twinkle in their eye and say that one day, dragons will come out of hiding and return in peace.

But for now, they will stay hidden, where only a select few can ever see them. Those who have a gift to see them more than monsters or tools. Those who will rise up when one of their own will turn against them.

This story is about one such hero, who was not natural at being a hero. She had to work hard for it.

Late on a dark and cold night, as the people in the small village whose name no one really knew, a man suddenly appeared at the end of the street. He had appeared so suddenly and silently many if they saw it would have thought he had popped out of the ground.

A very old man he was, whose round face was all but covered by the massive and very long beard. Underneath his rather large nose, which was crooked as though it had been broken at least twice, was a long mustache, braided for about of their length from the tip. Beside his crooked nose, he was missing a tooth alongside his right arm which was replaced by a prosthetic ax. He was wearing a long woven green over black pants and simple furry brown boots. Around his waist was a leather belt with metallic studs and a big round metallic buckle decorated by an engrave motif. Pauldrons made of brown fur and an engraved metallic disk on top protected his shoulders. On top of his head was a conical metal helm with two pairs of horns on each side.

This man's name was Heyral the Wise

Everything about this man seem unwanted in this small village, but Heyral didn't seem to realize. Instead he was focus was rummaging through the pocket of his pants, pulling out a dagger. Unscrewing the bottom of the hilt, he lifts it high in the air and the nearest street lamp went out with a little pop, and then next, and then the next, until he was standing in complete darkness, the only light being the stars above.

Sighing once more, he places the dagger once more in the pocket of his trousers, and turns to see a cat slowly walking towards him. Smiling sadly, he nodded his head, "I wish it was on better terms that I was seeing you again, Phlegma,"

The cat blinked up at him, and was soon replace by a woman who, like him, was wearing a helmet on her thick brown hair that was tied up. Though her helmet was small and golden with small ringed horns pointed up. Wearing a green sleeveless shirt made of rough material, two round metal armor plates around her breast and a fur-metal skirt ends on her knees, she looked rather ruffled as she stared at Heyral with narrow blue eyes.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I never seen a cat walk up to me so angry," he chuckles, but Phlegma glares at him before huffing.

"You'll be angry too with what I heard the last few days," she snaps, her shoulders shaking, "with how everyone's been acting. Not even being careful, the Magi-laus have been noticing their nonsense. Flocks of Terrors…. Shooting stars down in Kent, I'll tell you that was Dagr Rottentooth, mark my words,"

Heyral shakes his head, "Oh Phlegma the Fierce, you can't blame them," he told her gently, "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven,"

"I know that" Phlegma hisses irritably, "But that's no reason to lose our heads. Fine day it will be when on the very day the Dragon God has disappeared at last, the Magi-laus find out about us," she looks at him curiously, and with a hint of hope, "Is… is he really gone, Heyral?"

"It seems so,"

Phlegma takes a shaky breath at this, before frowns, "and the rumors on how he is gone? About how… how.."

When Heyral bows his head solemnly, a sob escaped from Phlegma's throat, "Oh Gods… Valka," she whispers, tears streaming down her face, "I heard but I didn't want to believe it… oh Gods what Stoick must be going through losing his wife and dau-"

"Hiccup lives," Phlegma's eyes widen as her head snaps at him, "she lives, how, I don't know yet,"

"Possibly something Valka did," Phlegma whispers, quickly wiping her eyes with her thumb, "She was the brightest Valkyrie of our age. Made so many mad because she was an Unfugul. But still," Phlegma laughs a bit, "the fact she did something to stop the Dragon God,"

"Now Phlegma, surely a sensible Valkyrie like yourself can call him by his name. All this, 'Dragon God'," Heyral shakes his head, "Where he got that idea for a name I will never know, but for eleven years I have been trying to call him by his true name: Drago Bludvist,"

As if Heyral had strikes a hammer against her head, Phlegma wince, "Well you're the only one brave enough to do so… well except for Stoick.. he calls him… oh alright Drago a madman. But you two are different," at this she sounded half exasperated, half admiring, "you two, alongside Valka, were the only ones he was afraid of,"

"You flatter me Phlegma," Heyral remarked, "Drago knew magic that I could never even know of,"

Phlegma snorted, "more like magic that you would never use," she sighs, shaking her head, "Why are you here, sir?"

"To bring Hiccup to her father," at this Phlegma stares at him in confusion, "Stoick and I had a little talk, and it has been decided that she shall be raise here… at least until she is eleven,"

Phlegma stares at him, mouth drops open, "Heyral, have you and Stoick lost your marbles?!" She hisses at him, eyes wide in disbelief, "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, descendant of the last King of the Wilderwest, even named after him, come and live here?" She gestures to all the houses, "this place, this whole village is the worst place to raise a young Valkyrie! She'll be famous, just as those who held her name before her,"

"Exactly. That is why it's the best place for her," Heyral explained, "she will be famous before she can walk and talk. Famous for something she won't even remember, something that cost her, her mother?" Heyral sighs, a frown forming on his face, "there is also the fact that while Drago Bludvist is gone, his followers are not. I do not want to think what will happen if they get their hands on her. It is best that she stays away from the Viking World until she is ready,"

Phlegma squeezes her eyes shut, "alright then…where is she? And where is Stoick?"

"Stoick is over there," Heyral nodded at number 4, "and Gobber is bringing her. While Hiccup survived the attack, she was greatly injured. I had Gothi look over her,"

Phlegma frowns at that, and was about to ask more, a low flapping noise interrupted her, filling the air. Turning their heads, they both watch as a brown and large dragon, slowly landed on the pavement. Though it seem fast asleep as it somehow manage to land safely onto the street. On top of the great lump beast, was a man that was roughly three times as big. Though he was bald, covering it with a helmet that had yak horns, he has a long braided blond mustache, which was scorch at the end and unibrow. Wearing a tunic made of tan fur and cloth, though torn and stained with scorch marks. Slipping off the dragon, reveals that he was missing his right leg replaced by a peg leg, and on his left arm was a prosthetic, a metal hook one. Cradle in his right arm though, was a bundle of blankets. "Heyral, sir. Phlegma," he nodded his head respectfully at the two in front of him.

"Gobber, how was the flight?" Heyral questioned as the giant of the man walked over to them, "No problems? You were quite a while,"

"Gothi wanted to make sure that everything was alright, wee lass," Gobber shakes his head sadly, "There was so much blood. House was completely destroyed when Stoick and I got there...I had to hold Stoick back from attacking Alvin right there and then," he growls out, his blue eyes flashing in anger, "The traitor had the gall to stay around to see his results. And afterwards, I searched the whole house...I only found Valka's body...there was no other body," he then sighs, shoulders slumping, "But...Gothi did the best she could with the lass. Poor thing fell right asleep as soon as we took off...though that might be because of Grump,"

Heyral hums at that, his blue eyes shimmering in concern at this news. But both he and Phlegma bent over but before they could get a look, a grunt was heard from behind them. Standing in the doorway of Number four was a very big man that towers over most people. His long red hair was braided, the same for his thick beard which was intricate in its many strands. He had a large fur cloaked drapped over his shoulders, a dark green tunic that went down to his knees and a chained skirt with striped pantaloons. Unlike the others, he wore no helmet, but wrapped around his were rounded spiked braces. His green eyes were red, likely from crying, "Where...where is she?"

"She is right here, Stoick," Gobber gently said, and the large man quickly walked over, taking the bundle into his own arms. Inside the bundle, was small child, a little girl with auburn hair that was short, standing straight up. Her face was all but covered in freckles, though there was a small scar on the right of her cheek. More though, on her left shoulder, was a massive burn marked, still shiny and red, slightly blistering and looking like it very much hurt.

"Is that where," Phlegma whispers in horror.

"Yes," Heyral sadly stated, "She will have this scar until she passes on to Valhalla,"

Stoick frowns, holding his daughter close to her, "Couldn't you do something about it Heyral?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy, and after all, a scar like this is a Viking's badge of honor,"

"I rather her not have a scar that was given to her by that madman that killed Valka!" boomed Stoick, and it was only because of Gobber gently grabbing his arm that he calms. He glowers as Heyral, "You're done...you gave me Hiccup, and you have no business staying here,"

Heyral looks at him sadly, "Very well Stoick, but if you have any need for me, you know I am always there to help. Have a good evening, chief," with another nod of his head, he turns, raising up the dagger in the air, and allowing twelve balls of light spread back to their street lamps, so the street once more glowed a bright orange. Phlegma opens her mouth raising a hand, before she closes it suddenly, finding no words to comfort her friend. Gobber stares at Stoick, not even noticing Heyral turning on his heel and leaping onto the back of a yellow dragon, or the tabby cat slinking around the corner at the end of street.

"Good luck, Stoick, Hiccup," he said in a very muffled voice. Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket, Gobber swung himself onto the back of his dragon, "Grump, wake up you lazy beast," he chokes out, kicking the dragon lightly in the side. With a snort as it wakes, Grump rose into the air and off into the night.

An icy breeze flooded through the late evening air, and Stoick side as his daughter shivered and rolled in her blankets. Pressing a kiss to her brow, he smiles sadly as her emerald green eyes open a bit, "Its just you and me now lass. We all that we have left," tears began to stream down his face, "I promise," he whispers, holding her closely as his throat burn with sobs, "I promise I'll protect you...I'll keep you safe," he chokes out, before he turns around, and heads inside. He had to hold back the sobs that wanted to crush him, realizing his daughter...his Hiccup doesn't even know that Valka was gone...that she was famous, didn't know that at this time, people were meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their mugs and tankards, hollering drunkenly into the night, "To Hiccup Haddock- The Girl Who Lived!"

Magi-laus- literally means magicless

Unfugal- Fledgling this worlds version of Muggleborn. Since they are the first in their family to have magic to train dragons, they are fledglings about to take flight. Also sounds more respectful

If anyone has any ideas on what to replace the elves in book 2, I will gladly take any suggestions.