DISCLAIMER - I DON'T OWN ANYTHING IN THE 'HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON' FRANCHISE
This is my first story on Fanfiction, and I'm excited to explore the "Hiccup leaves Berk" trope within the HTTYD fandom. It's one of the most popular tropes in the community, probably only rivaled by the "Hiccup becomes the dragon master" trope, which can be just as engaging when done well. I've read nearly every fanfic worth mentioning that uses these two tropes, with "Persephone," "Sacrifices," and the "Becoming" trilogy being my favorites. Pretty basic, I know.
I enjoy stories where characters watch the movies they're in and learn about events that will unfold or have already happened. I want my story to be different, so It's going to have both the trope of Hiccup running away and then some characters on Berk watch Hiccup's experiences up until the point he leaves.
I'm intentionally avoiding the cliché of Hiccup returning in disguise, which has been explored already in the "Becoming" trilogy. Instead, I want him to just return as Hiccup. If he story goes as planned, it will already have enough suspense with the drama that Berk has to deal with on their own. Another plotline where they think Hiccup is some foreigner who controls dragons will just make the story more complicated than it needs to be.
I can promise that the story isn't just going to end with the heroes winning and then one big epilogue at the end.
All those years of the worst Viking Berk has ever seen... I almost gave up on you.
Hiccup felt the words cut through him like the coldest winter wind, leaving him numb, hollow, and reeling. It was as if a chill had seeped into his very bones, rendering him momentarily paralyzed in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Fear, confusion, pain, and anger collided within him like a storm, none settling long enough for him to make sense of them.
The first thought that gripped him was terror for Toothless. His father knew about the dragon—his dragon. Hiccup had expected to be dragged off in chains the moment Stoick had walked into the house, anticipating warriors to storm in behind him, their expressions fierce and unforgiving. He'd been prepared to beg, to plead, to drop to his knees and grovel if it meant sparing Toothless from the wrath of Berk. He'd readied himself to face exile, to lose everything—his home, his family, his dreams—if only it meant his best friend would remain safe, hidden away in the cove where they shared their secret bond.
But then Stoick's next words left him reeling with confusion.
"I was hoping for this," Stoick had said.
What? His father, the great Stoick the Vast, hoping for this? For what—him, of all people, to have a dragon? It made no sense. Hiccup couldn't even begin to fathom how his father had discovered the truth; it felt surreal and jarring. Yet, somehow, it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. The only thing that did matter was the single creature who had seen him not as a failure or an embarrassment, but as something more. Toothless had given him freedom, a taste of acceptance, and now that precious freedom felt like it was crumbling beneath him.
And then, Stoick had said it—the words that shattered whatever fragile hope Hiccup had held on to.
"I almost gave up on you."
Hiccup's world seemed to cave in around him. The walls of their home, once a sanctuary, now felt like they were closing in, suffocating him. His father's voice still rumbled in the air, deep and certain, but the words echoed endlessly in his mind, crashing against the fragile defenses he'd built over years of being Hiccup the Useless. Each syllable felt like a heavy stone, dragging him deeper into despair. Those words came from Stoick the Vast—not just a chieftain, but his father—the one person he had tried so desperately to please, the one whose approval he had craved more than anything else in the world.
And now, his father had admitted that even he had almost given up on him.
Hiccup had always known what the village thought of him. He was no stranger to their sneers, their laughter. To them, he was the living punchline to some cruel cosmic joke. A Viking in name only, a walking disaster whose every attempt to help his village only led to more trouble. He'd heard their whispers—the cruel, mocking tones, the half-hidden grins—and learned to live with it, to shrug it off most of the time. But he never expected to hear it from his father. Not him.
He could hear the children's taunts, see the disdain in the eyes of the adults and the older warriors. Hiccup the Useless, they called him. A title he had earned by the age of thirteen, without ever lifting a sword. It wasn't just the kids, though. Even the grown-ups had their opinions. When one of his inventions backfired, sending sparks flying and creating chaos, or when someone got knocked out because of his clumsiness, it wasn't long before someone suggested that Berk would be better off without him. Mildew's sheep probably despised him, Hiccup thought bitterly. He could even picture them giving him side-eye as he passed by. But somehow, through all of that, through all the ridicule and disappointment, he had clung to one belief—that his father had never, would never, see him the way the others did.
He had believed Stoick was there for him, even when his latest contraption exploded or when another raid went wrong because of his interference. Stoick's silence in those moments felt like quiet understanding. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Hiccup had convinced himself that deep down, his father understood his intentions, his desire to help. Hiccup had always held on to that one dream—that one day, when all his failures were behind him, Stoick would finally be proud of him.
But now... the truth lay bare before him.
"I almost gave up on you."
Hiccup's chest felt like it was being squeezed by a giant's hand, tightening with an unbearable weight. His father had given up on him, or at least come close enough that it didn't matter. The one person he thought should understand him—his father—didn't. Worse, Stoick was only still hoping because he believed Hiccup was finally becoming what he had always wanted—a dragon slayer. A true Viking.
Stoick's expression softened slightly, a fleeting glimpse of paternal concern, but the damage was done. Hiccup's heart felt like it had been shattered into a thousand pieces, each fragment a painful reminder of his inadequacy. His father would never be proud of him for who he really was. Only if he became something else—someone else. Someone who would kill dragons.
But Hiccup couldn't be that person. He wasn't a dragon slayer. He was the boy who had let the deadliest dragon in existence known to Berk go free. Worse, he had healed Toothless's wounds, fixed his tail, and then, in the ultimate act of betrayal to everything Stoick stood for—he had flown with the Night Fury. In that moment, he realized he wasn't just disappointing his father; he was betraying the very essence of what it meant to be a Viking in Stoick's eyes. He was a traitor. And now, he couldn't escape the cold, undeniable reality of what came next.
Exile. Execution.
Hiccup's mind spiraled as he imagined the worst possible outcome. He envisioned himself dragged in front of the village, humiliated once more, their laughter ringing in his ears as he was cast out to live among the outcasts. Or perhaps even worse—Alvin the Treacherous would find him, and his fate would be sealed in a way that made him wish for the simple humiliation of exile. Maybe death for treason awaited him, the thought chilling him to the core.
He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill over, blurring his vision. They'll kill Toothless. They'll kill him, and it'll be his fault.
But despite the terror coursing through him, there was a certainty deep in his bones that he couldn't ignore. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let them kill Toothless—not the dragon who had shown him more love and loyalty than anyone else in his life, not the creature who had been his solace amidst the storm of his existence.
The cove, with its hidden serenity and gentle waves lapping at the shore, had become a sanctuary for him. It was the only place where he truly felt like himself—where Toothless had shown him there was another way, a different path than the one dictated by tradition and fear. The dragon, in his silent companionship, had given Hiccup something he had never felt before: belonging. In that place, away from the village's scorn, Hiccup had felt more at home than he ever had in the Haddock house.
No. He wouldn't let them take that away from him. He couldn't.
The answer was clear, forming with cold finality in his mind. He had to leave Berk. Leave it all behind—his father, his failures, his shame. He couldn't live in a place where he was nothing more than a disappointment, where the only way to earn Stoick's love was to be someone he wasn't.
As much as it hurt him, as much as it broke his heart, Hiccup knew what he had to do. He couldn't stay in a place where he didn't belong.
He would leave. Forever.