Reviews

frost phantom dragon: Thank you for pointing that out. I miss those details when I'm distracted.

DJ Rodriguez: Indeed, and in case it wasn't obvious, Mogadon and the Meatheads are from the HTTYD books. And for Stoick's stubbornness, yes you may be right.

Remember, things changed when everyone knew what Hiccup did and they saw him save them from the Red Death. Here, Hiccup did it in the shadows and no one is the wiser. Also, the Twins did not really prank him. Hiccup just lied to cover why his tunic is stained in what is really dragon blood.

Yes, it was indeed chaotic when the dragons come to Berk, because they followed two of their new leaders to the village.

I can see that question regarding Gojira's size but that is not how he grows to be Kaiju size in this story.

Thank you.

Now on with the story, where things start to get shaken up.

Chapter 11: The Torching Questions.

(Eh? Eh? Get it?)

It was the first Thor's Day after Snoggletog and is the very, very early morning on Berk. The braziers are stoked to blazing, despite the hour, and torches line the streets, replaced when needed. Vikings line the cliff sides, the sheep pens, the steps to the Great Hall. Every one of them clutches swords and spears, shields and bolas, arrows. Stoick the Vast stands amongst all of them in the Town Square, body lowered in anticipation, his axe clutched in one hand. His eyes—along with every other Viking's—are on the starry sky.

Hiccup appears between two houses, walking into the street and flattening his hair—suspiciously windswept. He keeps his head down, maneuvering politely around statue-like Vikings poised with weapons, watching them warily. He spots his father ahead, putting on a little more speed.

Stoick's eyes dart to the side, taking in the new arrival, and he frowns, hissing, "Hiccup, you should be with the others!"

Further down the street, the kids stand with less tiredness than their elders. Astrid is the only one of them who stands, mimicking the Chief: her body lowered and axe hefted, eyes on the sky. Ruffnut is delicately balancing things on Snotlout's forehead, the Jorgenson fast asleep over the back of a barrel.

Fishlegs sits against a house near Astrid, a hammer in his lap. Every time his chest drifts to his chin, Fishlegs jerks awake, blinking at the stars. Tuffnut had somehow climbed to the top of the aforementioned house, perhaps previously patrolling from the roof...but now badgering a possessive raccoon with the butt of his spear. The rodent hisses at the Thorston, clutching a half-eaten, half-rotted leg of mutton. Tuffnut snickers, edging closer.

Hiccup ignores Stoick, lifting an eyebrow at his father's fighting stance. "Have you just been...standing out here? All night long?" he asked.

Stoick does not respond, watching the sky again. His silence seems a dismissal, but Hiccup does not take it. The boy leans closer to the Chief, poking his head into the bottom of the man's vision.

Hiccup shrugs. "Maybe they're not coming." he said innocently.

Stoick huffs. "Nonsense! There's always a raid the first Thor's Day after Snoggletog."

But the dragons had not come, would not. Hiccup knew it. The Berkians could have stood around with aching joints and freezing hands, waiting for the slightest glimmer of dragonfire to start the melee. . . but that night had and will be the first of many empty hours.

Hiccup had killed the Queen. The raids would never come again.

Hiccup held up a hand. "It's not Thor's Day anymore, Dad, it's Freyja's Day. Midnight was hours ago." he said matter-of-factly.

Stoick looks down at Hiccup quizzically. "What are you doing up then?"

Riding my Night Fury, Dad. Hiccup wanted to say. Maybe in another life. Sneaking out of the house, Dad. He could have said but didn't.

"TERRIBLE TERROR!"

A small, dark shadow flaps across the sky and the Vikings take to screaming. Stoick roars with all the rest of them, bolas and axes and arrows all flying, none of them hearing Hiccup who shouts, "That's not a dragon! That's—!

The creature hits the dirt with a very solid thump, heavy, due to the axe that threw it back and the bola wrapped around it. The little mass is black, the iron of the axe, an arrow, and the rocks of the bola glinting in the firelight.

Hiccup winces as all the Vikings creep forward to inspect it. "A now-very-dead raven." he deadpanned.

The Vikings deflate, the axe-thrower angrily retrieving his weapon. Another of them calls out, pointing to the horizon. "I see daylight!"

Stoick stares at the sea, the far sky beginning to lighten. "I don't understand." Gobber hobbles up beside him. "Did we get the days wrong, Gobber?"

Gobber shook his head. "No, Chief, it's today. Or, yesterday, I suppose." he shrugs while making a little joke.

Stoick shakes his head. "Every year. Every year without fail." He mutters. "Where are they?"

Gobber shrugs. "Maybe the damned devils got caught in some western storm. My advice? We pack it up and treat everyone to a nice nap!"

Stoick frowns, but lifts his hands for the attention of the Vikings anyway. "Everyone! We're callin' it a night!"

Hiccup, leaning against a house, looks pointedly at where light is budding in the east, but keeps quiet.

Vikings sigh in relief, but also begin to murmur. "Where are they?"

"What if they arrive—?"

"Are ye crazy? Dragons don't strike in the day—"

"But there's always a raid—"

"—all night—"

The Vikings slowly disperse, gazing at the disappearing stars while rubbing their eyes, making for their homes. Tuffnut kicks Fishlegs awake, while Ruff begins to violently shake the barrel over which Snotlout is slumped. The Jorgenson comes to with a scream.

Astrid finally relaxes her stance, slinging her axe onto her back with a frown.

Against the house, Hiccup watches her with an open expression, an almost dreamy quality to his eyes.

Astrid looks over. Hiccup's eyes dart away and he straightens up off the wall, clearing his throat.

Mildew appears in the fray, scowling at the departing Vikings. His sheep, Fungus bleats at his side. "Where are you all goin'?"

A Viking yawns. "Ah, bugger off, Mildew..."

Mildew sneers, spotting Stoick up ahead, still conversing with Gobber.

He slams his staff into the dirt, striding ahead with Fungus hopping after. Hiccup spots him coming and raises an eyebrow, whereas Gobber cuts off his words to Stoick, leaning around the Chief to observe the man's approach. "Ah, here's Mildew with the complaint of the day, and it's not even dawn!"

As discreetly as he can, Stoick sighs. "Stoick! Where are all the men goin'?" Mildew asked in a raspy voice.

"I've sent everyone to have a rest, Mildew." The Chief replies. "The village has been watchin' for dragons—"

Mildew interrupts him, "And where are they?"

Stoick waits, patient. "I don't know, Mildew." He admits. "Gobber suggested the beasts might have been caught in a storm."

And they had. Of parenthood. Hiccup bid the dragon's luck.

Mildew sneers. "Bah."

Stoick sighs. "Is there anything else, Mildew?"

Mildew straightens up, as much as his slightly-hunched back can allow. "Well, I thought if there was no more work ta be done, I'd accompany you to me humble home to assess the value of my dear, dear late wife's belongings?"

Stoick pinches the bridge of his nose. "Mildew, it's been a long night—"

Mildew shakes his head. "Oh, no, Stoick, we agreed to first thing in the mornin'—" he tries.

Stoick shakes his head. "Let the morning begin in earnest first, Mildew."

Gobber raises an eyebrow. "Afraid her brother will beat ya to it, Mildew?"

Mildew glares, clutching his staff tight. "Stoick—"

Stoick holds up a hand. "Mildew, please. Come back into town in a few hours. Everything will be up n' runnin' by then, and I will gladly take stock of Gladys'—"

"Hours? We're awake now, ain't we?" the elder said impatiently.

Hiccup watches on, a little surprised at Mildew's insistence. "And who's gonna man the village while yer lying in?"

Stoick looks around—perhaps for divine intervention—and spots his son. The Chieftain grins. "Hiccup's awake!"

Hiccup's face slackens. "Um, what?"

Stoick laughs, as if he's just told a great joke, walking over to his son. "Aw, come on, it'll be good practice."

Hiccup's laughter is much more uncomfortable. Highly so. "Uh, Dad—"

Mildew's jaw drops, and he gazes blankly at Stoick. "You can't be serious."

Stoick reaches over, clapping Hiccup heartily on the back. The boy stumbles, gaping up at his father. Stoick looks down and chuckles at Hiccup's face. "Oh, relax, both of ya."

Stoick buries his hand in Hiccup's hair, ruffling it. "You've got some time yet."

Hiccup grins nervously as Stoick moves away, blowing out a breath and re-flattening his hair.

Mildew is not so reassured. "Some time?" he repeats.

Hiccup chuckles nervously. "Ha ha, yeah. . ." He admittedly is confused as Mildew. That felt strange to think.

"Stoick. . . you can't mean . . ." Mildew's face is drawn in true dread, and Hiccup bites his lip, jamming a thumb over his shoulder and heading that way. "You know, I think I'm just gonna—"

"In our last meeting, we discussed—" Mildew tries to protest.

Stoick's joking mood sours immediately. "Mildew. That is enough."

Hiccup pauses, turning back around.

Mildew tries to continue his protests. "You can't still mean to make him chief, Stoick! Look—!"

Gobber steps in. "I think the Chief mentioned that you've said enough, Mildew."

Hiccup stares at Mildew. Stoick glances sidelong at him, then back at Mildew. "If you'd like to speak in private—"

Gobber suddenly blocks Hiccup's view. "I don't know about you, laddie, but ol' Gobber needs a little shut-eye."

He places his hook against Hiccup's back, gently leading him away. Hiccup looks over his shoulder, where Stoick seems to be arguing with a staff-rattling Mildew. "—hasn't caused any problems in a while, Mildew—" he hears his father say.

Hiccup swallows. He looks to Gobber. "What were they talking about? What meeting?" he asked.

Gobber pats his back. "Nothing, Hiccup." It was in fact not nothing. It was a meeting with Stoick and the Council about Stoick's succession. Something that hasn't been in question for sometime. But those were times when Hiccup wasn't causing destruction. Something that hasn't happened in a while since Hiccup met Toothless. But with his reputation as accident prone and a runt, Mildew was one of the few to bring Stoick's succession and who would become chief. And the one very adamant to make sure that Hiccup would not become chief.

When this happened, Spitelout proposed his son to be chosen. There was nothing ill about it, logically he was what a Viking is. While arrogant, it is believed that he will grow out of it. Stoick had however declined that and held firm that Hiccup will remain his heir.

He did not need Mildew to question it in front of the boy and Gobber knew that.

But Hiccup is not five, and such an answer does no good. Never really did, in fact.

Hiccup tries to look back again, but Gobber leads them past a house, and his father and Mildew are gone. "Go catch a few winks. We aren't opening' til noon." Gobber's voice turns more serious. "And I don't want ye pokin' around in the forge until I'm up, ya hear?"

Hiccup nods, still looking behind him, though Stoick is long-hidden by the village. ". . . Yeah."

Hiccup frowns as he fiddles with Toothless' tailfin in the cove. "I should probably just relax, right?" he asked.

Toothless glances back, tilting his head and warbling as he lifts his left foreleg for Hiccup. "I mean, what's the use in worrying about it? It's not like Dad would tell me if I asked." he rambled.

Hiccup and Toothless soar above the clouds, the sky painted in purple-red of dawn. Hiccup is staring ahead, but he is still frowning. "But do you think the meeting was about the succession, or just something that came up? You know, randomly?"

A Terrible Terror flaps toward them and Toothless shrieks, veering to the right to avoid the dragon. Hiccup adjusts the pedal accordingly, but otherwise doesn't react.

"Should I be worried?" Hiccup perches on Gojira's head, boots dangling over the ocean, chin in hand. In the background, Toothless chases after a hopping gull.

"Would it be a good thing?" Both boy and dragon are falling fast, streaking for the open sea below. Toothless' tongue is sticking out of his mouth, flapping in the great wind, but Hiccup falls with his arms crossed as if he might be standing upright. "I mean, I could hardly sneak away to see you all the time if I was Chief." he said nonchalantly. "Dad never has a spare moment."

Hiccup and Toothless flip to re-join, and Hiccup buckles himself back in absent-mindedly. "I could make it work. . . somehow. . . " he trails off with a frown. "But should I?"

On Dragon Island, Hiccup sits cross-legged, absolutely swarmed by babies. There are six of them all squirming and fighting for space in his lap, and he holds four in his arms, a Nightmare baby clinging to his left shoulder and a Gronckle wriggling on his right, trying not to fall. A Nadder sleeps on his head. Toothless walks around him in a circle, listening as Hiccup rambles. "Everybody already knows I could never be the Chief that he is. . ." he goes on. "And clearly Mildew is worried about it. . . are the rest of the Council, too?"

In the forest's of Berk, Hiccup sits against a tree while Toothless lies sprawled across his knees. "Would I still get to live in my house?"

Toothless and Gojira look up at him. Hiccup doesn't notice. "That's the Chief's house, and if I'm not in line anymore. . ."

Hiccup's eyes widen, dread creeping onto his face. "Oh, jeez, if Snotlout became Chief, they'd build my house further out than Mildew's." he said in dread. "If I even got to stay on Berk at all."

Toothless coos, nudging him in the chest. Hiccup blinks into reality. Wincing, he reaches out to rub Toothless' scales, and the Fury warbles happily in response.

"I'm sorry, bud. This is probably really boring, huh?" Toothless grunts, which could mean anything. Hiccup looks hopefully at the sky. "There's still a few hours until noon. I wager a few hours after that until Gobber wakes up."

He pushes to stand, and Toothless whines as Hiccup's lap disappears from under his jaw. However, when Hiccup climbs onto his back, the Fury shakes in excitement. "Let's see if we can't try that new trick again. The one with the spin, not the flip."

He smiles down at Toothless, who begins to run, stretching out his wings. The dragon jumps, bring them a few feet into the air, "But, hypothetic ALLY !" A ball of fire shoots right past Toothless' snout with a whizz.

Toothless rears up and Hiccup goes tumbling from the saddle, over Toothless' snout and onto his belly on the grass. Toothless lands and Hiccup picks up his head, both staring shocked in the direction of the fireball.

"Woah! You saw that, right?" the Viking asked his draconian and Saurian friends.

Toothless and Gojira both warble the affirmative.

Ahead lies a log, a top chunk of which is missing, the gouged area smoking, blackened with red hot edges. Hiccup's face slowly peeks up over the smoking patch. Beyond that sits a tiny structure of rock, forming what might be a cave for a rabbit or raccoon. And within—is a dragon.

Orange scaled and gray of snout, horn, and talon, the little creature has a long, horned face and wide wings, and pokes his head cautiously from the safety of his rocky overhang.

Hiccup creeps forward, pressing his back to a large rock which makes the cave—and then ducking down, inches from the dragon. He offers his hand to the creature to sniff and then takes hold of the rock, smiling. "Hey, little guy. Who are you?"

The dragon watches him and then snaps at his fingers. Hiccup recoils. "Woahhh. Settle down, big fella."

Toothless and Gojira approaches behind him. "I've never seen anything like him." Hiccup says in awe.

Toothless leans forward, sniffing the dragon— and springs back, narrowing his eyes with a huff. He roars quietly at the small dragon, rearing back on his hindlegs to plant his forelimbs in the dirt with a thump. Gojira sniffs once before growling as well, stomping his foot.

Hiccup looks to them with a deadpan expression. "You're not helping." he said drily before he looks back to the dragon hiding. "You know, I think we may have discovered a new species here," he mused as he holds his chin.

Toothless suddenly rounds Hiccup, getting between him and the rock and shoving his head into the boy's belly, herding him backward. "Woah, hey, Toothless!" He exclaimed. "What has gotten into you?"

The little dragon squeaks inside the cave. Hiccup gasps. "Looks like he's hurt!" He slowly approaches again, getting down on his hands and knees.

"Don't be afraid, I'm a friend!" He withdraws blades of green grass from within his cloak. "Here."

The dragon's head shoots out, fangs snapping. Hiccup crawls even closer, offering his handful of grass. "It's okay. It's just a little dragon-nip."

The dragon hesitantly sticks its head out anew, sniffing the grass. Toothless rears up and roars.

The orange dragon screeches and jumps—onto Hiccup. He folds on Hiccup's chest like a cat, squirming, and Hiccup's arms quickly rise to accommodate him. Gojira roars as well.

Hiccup glances at Toothless and Gojira. "Come on, play nice."

The little dragon's claws slide out—right into Hiccup's skin. "AHH!" Hiccup holds the dragon at arm's length. "Little dragon, big claws!"

Nevertheless, Hiccup stands, the dragon flapping its wings gently as he does. "Come on, let's go. We'll fix you right up."

Hiccup sits cross-legged in the cove, the new dragon waddling in a small circle before him. Toothless sits a ways away, glowering at the smaller creature.

Hiccup moves around, trying to study the orange-yellow dragon as it moves. The little dragon blinks up at Toothless, and Toothless snarls. Hiccup frowns up at the Fury, but the other dragon jumps before Toothless, roaring. Toothless leaps to be face-to-face with the smaller foe, snorting angrily. Smoke billows from his nostrils into the face of the orange-yellow beastie.

The smaller one begins to kick up its leg, a yak readying to charge—only to be scooped up in Hiccup's arms. "Toothless, come on."

Toothless rears back, snarling at Hiccup. The Viking teen doesn't acknowledge that as he strokes the smaller dragon, who nestles in his hold, getting comfortable.

"He's just scared. He'll settle down if you relax." Toothless huffs, bounding away to settle angrily in the grass a good distance from Hiccup. Hiccup shakes his head. The new dragon blinks up at him, squeaking.

Hiccup smiles. "What are you, huh?"

The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, falling into the cove. Hiccup blinks in the new light, and then does a double-take. "Aw man, I've got to—"

The dragon squeaks. Hiccup winces. "What are we going to do with you?"

Toothless suddenly brushes around Hiccup's legs, his gaze locked on the little dragon in the boy's arms. Said dragon hisses at him.

Hiccup lifts an eyebrow. "Yeah, he's not staying with you, Mr. Attitude."

Toothless huffs in response and Hiccup studies the unknown dragon. "You're a quiet little fella, aren't you?" he asked.

Hiccup walks through Berk with a large wicker basket, the very same one often used to bring Toothless his dinner. Hurrying along, Hiccup keeps both arms wrapped around the large basket, speeding towards his house.

Nearby, Snotlout is loitering beside a chicken coop with the Thorston twins and Fishlegs. The Thorston's rumps are sticking out of the door to the chickens, and Odin only knows what their hands are doing to the hens inside while Snotlout and Fishlegs keep watch.

Snotlout spots his cousin striding by. "Hey, Hiccup!" he called to the smaller teen.

Hiccup's eyes widen, and he pushes on even faster, muttering. "Oh, Gods."

Snotlout grins, jumping up from his seat to race in front of his cousin. Hiccup pulls up short, his basket brushing Snotlout's chest, and he quickly steps back. "What's the rush?" Snotlout asked.

Hiccup glances uneasily at his cousin, trying to move around him. "I actually have to get to work, Snot—"

Snotlout side-steps, cutting him off again. Apprehension crosses Hiccup's face and he backs up, clutching the wicker basket. "I really don't have time—"

Snotlout looks at the load in his arms. "Big basket."

Hiccup's face falls and he takes another step back, turning to the side as if to shield the basket from his cousin. A useless venture, as it's wider than he. "Looks a little heavy for a three-year old." Snotlout smirks. "Let me just take that off your hands, Cuz—"

Hiccup's eyes widen. "No!" Hiccup wrenches the basket back from Snotlout's grasping hands. Inside the basket, the orange-yellow dragon lies curled up. The small dragon stands, sniffing curiously at the holes in the basket, his wide wings folded in close.

Hiccup's determined expression crumbles almost immediately, and he seems to process what he has done before Snotlout does.

Snotlout's grin falls for only a moment before it comes back stronger than ever before, and he takes a threatening step towards his cousin. "No?"

Hiccup swallows, stepping back again. Snotlout eyes the basket. "Whatcha got in there, Useless?"

Hiccup shakes his head. "It's none of your business, Snotlout."

Snotlout snorts. "Hand it over."

Hiccup glares. "Not happening."

Sagely, Snotlout nods. "Okay."

And he lunges.

Hiccup's eyes widen, and he moves perhaps half a second faster, veering sharply to his right and ducking out of the way as Snotlout goes careening past. Hiccup slams his prosthetic leg into the ground and then he is running, sprinting up the street while swinging the basket onto his back, because sure enough—Snotlout is back up, and his grin is gone.

He goes tearing after his cousin, sneering. "Ruff, Tuff, Fish, come on!"

Ruffnut and Tuffnut startle, both trying to back out of the chicken coop at the same time—and getting stuck.

"Move it!" Ruffnut cried out.

Tuffnut groans and sneers. "Gods, has your chin hair always been this scratchy?"

Fishlegs looks up from the side of the house, watching Snotlout race after the speeding form of Hiccup. "Uh, I'm—"

"Move it, Fishy!" Snotlout orders him.

Up ahead, Hiccup throws himself around corners, looking over his shoulder. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, so stupid—" he mutters to himself.

Hiccup breaks into the Square where Vikings mill about, but that certainly does not stop him. Hiccup collides with the throng of people, shouldering his way through. Vikings exclaim in surprise as Hiccup Haddock cleaves through them. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

"Watch where yer goin'!"

"Hey!"

"Hiccup! Get back here!"

"Where's Chief Stoick—"

"So sorry!" Hiccup calls to them as he escapes the street, breaking through one side just as Snotlout enters the other, panting. He moves through the crowd with far more ease. "HICCUP!"

Hiccup looks up to the sky, "Thor, strike me—" he mutters as he runs.

Behind Snotlout, the twins come running, cackling madly. "Man, I love Hiccup Hunting! It's like catching baby bunnies." Tuffnut declared.

Ruffnut smirks at her brother, suddenly spinning around to give him a harsh shove. Tuffnut yelps, staggering backward as his sister runs ahead. "But only one of us can actually catch him!" she said.

Tuffnut growls, chasing after Ruffnut. "Yeah, and it's gonna be me! I have the best record!"

From up ahead, Snotlout screams, "Shut up, you two!"

Ruffnut doesn't listen to the Jorgenson. "Nuh-uh! Remember I tackled him last—"

Tuffnut shoves his twin. "But the time before that—"

Hiccup breathes hard as he runs, eyes darting all around. Inside the basket, the little dragon squeaks as Hiccup jumps over a hole in the street, bouncing on his back.

Hearing it, Hiccup winces. "Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. . ." He makes another turn, trying to double back towards his house, and—

Fishlegs steps out in front of him.

Hiccup gasps, stopping so fast that he stumbles forward, falling down onto his knee. He quickly scrambles up, freezing. Fishlegs eyes him warily, looking back at the path he'd taken, a much emptier street. Hiccup stares at him apprehensively, a protective arm reaching back for his basket.

"GET BACK HERE!" Snotlout's roar floats from out of sight, but he will soon be upon them. Hiccup looks behind him in terror, and then back at Fishlegs.

Fishlegs frowns, shifting his weight...and then steps aside.

Hiccup blinks.

Fishlegs silently jerks his head behind him.

Hiccup does not need to be told twice. He darts around Fishlegs and pours on the speed, throwing his eyes down to his prosthetic and wincing.

Snotlout leaps out just behind him and Hiccup yelps, his cousin almost within arms-length. Snotlout laughs, hands stretching for Hiccup's basket, and Hiccup swings it from his back to his arms again, turning-

Only for a green blur to fly past his face. And suddenly Snotlout screams. Hiccup pauses before turning around hesitantly and sees Sharpshot clawing and biting on Snotlout's face as the stocky boy screams. Both Tuffnut and Ruffnut pause and watch the scene in surprise.

"Hiccup! There you are!"

Hiccup blinks up and turns around to see Gobber's belly, the smith standing in front of him with a jovial grin.

Snotlout freezes, and Sharpshot flies up and out of view while the Thorston tense behind him. Fishlegs watches anxiously from further back.

Gobber turns his eye on the other children, unimpressed. "Hmm. And there's you lot."

Snotlout stares at Gobber, and Fishlegs fidgets with his hands.

Tuffnut mutters, "Uh-oh." Ruffnut elbows him.

Gobber waves his hook at them with a frown. "Go on, get outta here, all of ya."

"Yes, sir." Nodding his head, Snotlout turns on his heel, racing off and leaving his friends in the dust. The twins scramble after him, and Fishlegs does his best to keep up.

Hiccup's eyes shoot open, and he shoots up even faster. "Wait, Gobber!"

Gobber turns and begins walking. Hiccup follows quickly after. "I've been lookin' all over for ya—"

Hiccup tries to reach for the basket. "I just really need that basket—"

Gobber doesn't move to give it to him. "What're ya doin' with Snotlout and those other muttonheads, anyway?"

Hiccup makes to grab the basket, but Gobber shifts it absent-mindedly to rest under his other arm. "If you could just—"

Inside the basket, the small dragon flops over to the new floor of the wicker enclosure, shaking his head, a little dazed.

"I was surprised not to find ya in the stall already—" Gobber says before Hiccup interrupts him.

"Gobber!" he shouts.

Gobber pauses, finally seeming to notice Hiccup having rounded to his other side and reaching for the basket. Gobber smiles, hefting the load. "Oh, no worries, lad. It's light as a feather!"

Hiccup shuffles for an excuse. "It's just kind of. . . private?"

Gobber blinks and Hiccup winces in instant regret. Gobber eyes the basket in bewilderment...but hands it off to Hiccup nonetheless. ". . . Alright."

Hiccup heaves a great sigh. "Thanks. If I could just run this home—"

Gobber shakes his head. "Aw, C'mon, laddie, we've burnt enough daylight already! Tuck it in the back."

The forge pops into view and Gobber ushers the frantic Hiccup inside, basket and all.

Some time later, Gobber is bent over a sword, a smoked blue fish on a platter beside him. The smith concentrates, hunching low to the metal with a pair of pliers in hand. He expertly twists a bit of cooling metal near the cross guard, but the shape still comes out a bit wonky.

Gobber sighs. "Laddie, I might need ya to finish the detailing on Sven's broadsword."

No reply comes, and Gobber lifts an eyebrow, turning around to find the forge empty. "Hiccup?"

Hiccup's answer comes muffled from the backroom. "Just a second!"

Gobber huffs, reaching for his fish—and finds an empty plate. He frowns at the bare platter. "Did I eat lunch already?" he mutters to himself.

In the back, Hiccup flips open the lid of the basket. The little dragon's head immediately pops out, and he squeaks, which Hiccup coughs harshly to cover up. "Shh. Hey, big guy."

Hiccup holds Gobber's fish over the basket, which the small dragon leaps up and snaps out of his hands, tongue darting out of his mouth in a satisfied smack.

"Just a little while longer, alright? Think you can handle that?" Hiccup asked. The dragon nuzzles into Hiccup's hand and he smiles, flipping the lid closed once more.

Gobber suddenly calls out, "Hiccup! Can ye get the window?"

Hiccup straightens up. "Yeah, Gobber! I'm on it."

He strides out of the workroom, rushing to the open service window of the forge. "What can I—Oh!"

Astrid stands at the window, holding a long...stick? "Hi Astrid." He greets, Astrid smiles and opens her mouth. "You look—the sun is nice, right?" Hiccup asked. "On your hair—skin! Because it's warm. Right?"

Astrid lifts an eyebrow. Hiccup clears his throat. "What can I do for ya?"

She hands Hiccup the long stick, which he takes questioningly into his hands. One end is obliterated in a jagged mess of splinters, the aftermath of an explosion or perhaps a fire. "A spear? I never took you for a lance kind of gal."

Astrid shakes her head. "It's Ruff's." she replied.

Hiccup nods, surprised and confused. "Ah. . . wow."

Astrid nods her head. "Yeah. . . She wanted to see if she could get the end fixed up, a new spearhead."

Hiccup frowns. "The head? Why don't I just grab her a new spear?" he asked. There were still a few spare spears in the armory.

Astrid shakes her head. "Uh, no, she's sentimental about the handle." she replied.

Hiccup tilted heads. ". . . The handle." he repeated.

Astrid nodded and looks thoughtful. "Something about Tuffnut trying to swallow it and choking one time?"

Hiccup cringes. "Yeah, you know what? I shouldn't have asked."

Astrid smiles politely. "Probably for the best."

Gobber's head pops in. "Astrid! Would you like to come in, lassie?"

Hiccup's face sours, and he clutches the shaft like he wants to shove the ruined end somewhere unpleasant.

Astrid shakes her head politely. "I'm alright out here, thanks, Gobber."

Gobber shrugs in response, not really offended. "Suit yerself! Here, gimmie that, I'll take care of it." Hiccup passes the stick off to Gobber.

"So. . . the spear will probably be done in a day or so—" he says to Astrid before Gobber says, "Oh, no, I'm fixin' it right now! You just hang around Astrid, and you'll have it back in no time at all."

Hiccup eyes Gobber warily while Astrid grins. "Thanks!"

Some time later, Hiccup is sneaking the small dragon a bit of bread in the workroom. Sharpshot has snuck in too.

Suddenly, the dragon's head pokes over Hiccup's shoulder, and Hiccup pushes the dragon back into the basket, shutting the lid just as Gobber barges in through the curtains.

He hisses. "Hiccup!"

The boy turns around, confused. "What?"

Gobber hisses again. "What're you doin' over 'ere in the dark! Astrid's standin' at the window!"

Hiccup slowly stands. ". . . Okay."

The blacksmith looks to the sky in exasperation. "Odin above, lad, go talk to her!"

Hiccup deadpans. "Astrid Hofferson does not want to talk to me."

A sly smirk creeps onto the smith's face. "Oh no? Three visits the to ol' forge. . . " he muses. "I doubt she's lookin' for tea-time with Gobber."

He pauses before he could think of a response. ". . . Huh." He muttered as he realizes that the old meathead has a point.

"Uh huh." Gobber grins. "Think about it."

Hiccup tries to think of a reply. "She has a. . . spear."

"Uh-huh." Gobber wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before Hiccup gives in. "Fine, fine! Just...stop doing that." With that he walks back to the front

Astrid is leaning against the outside wall of the forge when she hears the sound of Hiccup's prosthetic and whirls around, suddenly face to face with the boy inside. The two blink at one another, and Hiccup drums his fingers on the underside of the counter. "So . . ."

Astrid crosses her arms, looking curious. Hiccup swallows. "How—how'd you get conned into bringing Ruffnut's spear?"

"Oh, she owed me a favor." Astrid replied.

Hiccup frowns. Astrid drops her arms. "I mean 'I'. I owed her a favor."

Hiccup nods in understanding. The two lapse off into silence again. After a moment, both kids look anywhere but one another. Hiccup studies the wood grain of the countertop, and Astrid picks at a skull on her skirt.

Deeper inside the forge, Gobber drops his forehead onto his workbench. Beside him is the completed spear.

Astrid takes a breath to speak, and Hiccup's eyes dart to her. "I heard there was a footrace in the village earlier."

That was certainly one way to put it. Hiccup huffs. "Oh, did you?" he asked drily.

Astrid nods her head and remarks. "Sounds like you won."

Hiccup snorts drily. "He said that, did he?"

Astrid smirks. "I pieced it together from his sulking."

Hiccup rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, outpacing Snotlout is one of my many outstanding and life-saving talents." he said sarcastically.

Astrid keeps her smirk up good-naturedly, and helpfully supplies, "Well, I wouldn't have let him run you down if I'd been there."

Hiccup's sarcasm melts, and he looks at her earnestly. ". . . Thanks."

She nods her head. "No problem."

Inside, Gobber watches the two unabashedly. . . but when the conversation ends his shoulders droop, and he flails his hands—hand—in an urging manner, though neither teen can see him.

Hiccup watches a bird fly overhead, and Astrid watches Hiccup.

Hiccup doesn't see it, focus drawn by Gobber's shout: "All done!"

Hiccup nods, striding over to his mentor. "Perfect."

He returns to Astrid with a perfect spear, complete with the original handle. "Tell Ruffnut not to go stabbing or maiming anything for at least a day. If she doesn't let the iron cool, the whole thing will be brittle."

Astrid nods her head. "Okay, I'll give you that stone-cold proof, Haddock."

Hiccup smiles a little. "Aw, thank you, milady, I'm touched."

Astrid blinks at him, surprised. She takes the spear. "Right. I'll. . . tell her."

Hiccup smiles, and Astrid does two, swinging the spear and striding away. Very slowly, Gobber leans down, his grin inching closer and closer to Hiccup.

Hiccup swats at him. "Would you quit?"

Gobber laughs, walking back to his work. Shaking his head and sighs, Hiccup looks out and watches Astrid walk away.

"Oh, by the way lad, have you seen my back-scratchin' hook?" Gobber asked all of the sudden. Hiccup turns—and gasps. The little orange-yellow dragon is clinging to Gobber's fur vest, happily rubbing his face on the pelt. "I've got the weirdest itch—"

Hiccup lunges forward, snatching the small dragon into his arms. The dragon squeaks at him happily and Hiccup near-yells, "I'll get right on finding it!"

He ducks behind the workroom curtain just as Gobber turns around, satisfied. "And that's why I have an apprentice."

Later that night, Hiccup hesitantly opens his bedroom door to peer downstairs. The house appears quiet, and Hiccup spots some fresh cod laid on the kitchen counter. Smirking victoriously, Hiccup hurries down the stairs.

"Hiccup."

Hiccup skids to a stop at the voice. "Dad! I. . . I didn't realize you were home."

Stoick sits in front of the hearth, sharpening a dagger. "What's this I hear about you running wild through the Square today?" he asked emotionlessly.

Hiccup's eyes widen. "I—" he stutters.

"What you do reflects on me, Hiccup." Stoick said.

Hiccup shrinks, his eyes lowering to the floor. "I know."

"And I don't need to be fielding complaints from Mildew about you knockin' over his wheelbarrow." Stoick said next.

Hiccup straightens up, indignant. He never once gone to Mildew's barrow since he smelled his terrible cabbage. "I didn't even—!" he tries to protest.

Stoick eyes him. Hiccup sighs. "Right. It won't happen again."

Stoick nods, standing up. "Good. Now, I'm headin' out."

Hiccup's bedroom door slowly eases open with a creak, and Hiccup's eyes shoot up the stairs. The orange-yellow dragon noses his way into the doorway, sniffing.

Stoick continues towards the door, grabbing his axe off the table, completely unaware. "We're keepin the Dragon Trainees on tha reserves tonight, so get some sleep."

The dragon begins to amble down the steps, leaping from one to another. Hiccup's voice comes out strained. "Will do."

While Stoick works to don his cloak beside the door, Hiccup waves frantically at the small dragon, trying to signal behind his father's back that the creature needs to get out of sight.

The dragon sniffs at the stairs, a layer of dust shooting up into his face. The beast rears back, breath hitching—Hiccup gasps, lunging towards the hearth— The small dragon sneezes, a tiny blast of tunnel-like fire shooting down the steps.

Stoick's brow furrows while he faces the door. Hiccup snatches up a log from beside the fireplace and dives towards the dragon's fiery sneeze. The tip of the log catches the flame and Hiccup hits the floor on his belly, holding the stick aloft. Up on the steps, the dragon rubs nonchalantly at his snout with a talon-tipped wing.

Stoick hears the sneeze. "You're not getting sick, are ya, Hiccup?" he asked as he finishes adjusting his cloak and turns around. "Oh! Thank you, son."

Hiccup stands before Stoick with the flaming log in hand, fashioned into a torch.

Hiccup smiles a very strained smile as Stoick takes the firebrand from him, chuckling. "Heh heh, yep. . . good luck. . . "

The stairs are empty, and the small dragon is scrabbling along the side of them nearest to the wall, hidden by chance. Stoick opens the door and steps out into the cold, holding the torch aloft. Once it shuts Hiccup sags in relief, and a squeak comes from behind him. Turning around, Hiccup finds the little dragon peering up at him from the floor, tilting its head.

"That was close," Hiccup grins, leaning down to scratch the dragon under the chin. "But, I suppose if the most trouble you make is a torch..."

He trails off, lost in thought, until the dragon nips playfully at his no-longer-scratching finger. Hiccup smiles. "Hey. Whatddya think of that, huh? Torch?"

The little dragon jumps into his arms and Hiccup grins, awkwardly taking the platter of fish with one of his hands and trying to carry it up the stairs as the dragon snaps at the cod. "Yeah, I like it, too. Torch."

Meanwhile, out in the forest of Berk in the dead of night. The view slowly closes in on the little rock structure where Hiccup and Toothless found Torch, now empty of said dragon.

Behind the cave of rock lands the legs and claws of a very large red dragon.

The dragon's head falls into view, identical to Torch's but for the much larger size. The dragon sniffs about the small hideaway and finds it barren.

The dragon's head rises to the sky as she roars, and she suddenly screams a burst of strong circular fire. She beats her great red wings, rising off the earth as her flame billows out across the land, hot and thick.

Far away in the streets of Berk, with their eyes trained on the sky and ears full of idle conversation, the Vikings have no view of the fire, nor can they hear the dragon's screams. However, Toothless and Gojira can. The dragon lifts his head in the cove, growling in surprise while the Saurian stands up. Toothless looks outside the walls of the cove and finds a faint flickering of orange above the distant trees. Toothless glares at the sight, growling nervously.

And meanwhile, back in Berk, in the Haddock house, Hiccup's room, asleep on the floor of his bedroom, laid beside a blanket-lined basket, in which lies Torch.

The next day, Hiccup walks into the cove, carrying Torch. "Alright, Torch. Let's figure out what you are."

Toothless comes racing up to Hiccup, barking and growling. Hiccup startles, and Toothless leans forward to snap at Torch. Torch snarls, and Hiccup hoists him higher. "Toothless!"

Hiccup sidesteps the dragon—but Toothless cuts him off, growling. "Seriously bud, we'll go flying in just a minute, I promise."

Toothless roars, but let's Hiccup walk away, settling down in the snow with Torch. Torch hops from Hiccup's arms as the boy arranges his cloak beneath him, pulling out charcoal and a notebook from his bag. He flips through the pages—revealing quickly-flashing sketches of dragons and their descriptions. "You know, there's nothing in the Book of Dragons that looks quite like you."

Torch waddles around, nuzzling Hiccup's knee. Hiccup closes one eye and holds his hands apart, stretching out one of Torch's wings. "Huh, that's a big wingspan. Twenty inches." He notes it down. "Let's get a closer look at those claws."

Hiccup brandishes a piece of parchment torn from his journal, a target made up of perfect circles drawn on the page. Hiccup peeks out from behind it. Torch presses his snout to the paper, sniffing—and lashes out with his talons. In the blink of an eye the baby is sitting in the grass again, but the parchment falls from Hiccup's fingertips in long ribbons and tears.

Hiccup blinks. "Okay. Impressive."

By the pond, Toothless snorts derisively, tossing his head. "Now, how about flying?"

Hiccup stands up and Torch just chirps at him. "Do you want to try flying, big guy? You know?" He flaps his arms twice.

Torch cocks his head. "Hmm. Hey, Toothless, maybe if he saw us fly?"

Over by the bond, Toothless determinedly keeps his eyes off of Hiccup when he says his name. Hiccup smiles. "Let's take a ride, bud!"

Toothless suddenly snarls, leaping to his feet. He beats his wings, flapping over to the rolled stone and scrambling up it. Hiccup watches on as Toothless digs his claws into the walls, dragging himself out of the cove. In a few more seconds the Night Fury has scaled a thick tree, and Toothless ventures out on a long limb, surveying the surrounding forest with a glare.

"Toothless?" The Night Fury does not acknowledge him. Torch sniffs at Hiccup's feet. "I thought you wanted to go flying!"

Silence.

". . . Okay. Well, Torch, Toothless flew a little, if you. . ." he trails off as Torch squeaks and then jumps away from a mid-sentence Hiccup, who trails off curiously. Torch lands in the grass, waddling again in a circle, lifting and digging with his talon-tipped wings.

Hiccup watches, crestfallen. "Maybe you can't fly..."

Torch speeds up, and suddenly sparks begin to crackle between his fangs.

Hiccup steps back, shielding his eyes from the light as Torch spins and spins into the air, a trail of orange sparks trailing him as he rises. Torch's circle widens, his wings flapping, until he flies . Torch surges over Hiccup's head, who ducks, quickly snapping his eyes back to the baby in awe.

Torch is little more than a ball of sparks, zooming across the pond, over the grass, around and around the stone walls of the cove. Torch lifts up, higher and higher until he lies directly in Toothless' line of sight, the Night Fury still sat on his haunches up in the tree. Torch closes his circle until the ball of sparks is a shifting orb, at which the Night Fury glares deadpan. The spark ball slowly descends, fizzling out to land in front of Hiccup.

Torch pads over, jumping up into Hiccup's arms. "You are one incredible little dragon!" he exclaimed.

Around the pair, the grass is smoking, left with a spiraling black burn. Hiccup looks at it awe. "Woah. . . " Torch preens proudly.

By the time Toothless glances down into the cove, Hiccup and the baby dragon both have snuck out. Toothless grumbles, shifting on his branch and settling down as the sky darkens on another day.

Hiccup walks at the docks, carrying a basket of fish he caught himself. As he nears the shore he switches to a new dock beside which is moored a tall structure, shrouded by a white sheet.

Hiccup pays it little mind until a rustling arises from within.

Hiccup pauses, staring into the darkness. Then, he squares his shoulders. "Just come out, Snotlout. The shadows aren't your style."

The rustling dies at Hiccup's voice, but the tent-thing does not move. Hiccup looks back into the village, but there are no adults around, and the only thing before him is open water and fishing boats. "I'm not scared, Snot."

No answer. Hiccup drops the basket, glaring. He steps forward, shoving one edge of the sheet aside. "Would you cut it out? I already know you're—AH!"

Hiccup and Fishlegs collide, knocking Hiccup backward. "Fishlegs?"

Hiccup lands on the deck, loose papers and his journal spilling from within his vest. "Oh! Sorry!" Fishlegs exclaimed.

Hiccup groans. "It's. . . fine."

Fishlegs holds out a hand. Hiccup stares for a moment, and then takes it. He brushes his vest off. "What on earth are you doing out...here."

Fishlegs is staring down at the pier, where Hiccup's drawings are sticking to the slimy wood. "What kind of dragon is this?"

The huskier boy stoops down, picking up one of the pages. Hiccup reaches out as if to snatch it, but stops. "I—uh..."

"It looks almost like a Timberjack..." said the Ingerman teen as he studies the drawing. "But the body is too thick, and the head...I've never seen this dragon before."

Fishlegs tilts the page, squinting. Suddenly, he peers overtop the paper, scrutinizing Hiccup. Hiccup looks to either side nervously. "I've memorized the entire Dragon Manual."

Hiccup looks back at the other teen, seeming to realize that Fishlegs is expecting an answer. He shrugs. "It's. . . uh. . . I think it's a new species."

Fishlegs' jaw slowly falls. "A new. . . a new species? Of dragon?"

Hiccup blinks at Fishlegs' enthusiasm and then slowly grins, nodding. "I saw this one in the woods. He was small, and fast—"

Fishlegs cuts in excitedly. "You saw it?!"

Hiccup nods with a grin. "It shot right by me! But he didn't see me, so I had time to make a sketch."

Fishlegs stares. " Woah ." He bends down, grabbing another page, this one depicting Torch in flight, trailed by sparks. "Do you think your drawing is...accurate?"

Hiccup shrugs again. "More or less."

Fishlegs looks at the drawings. "Look at those claws...and the wingspan! It was small?"

Fishlegs consults the various sketches, and Hiccup watches him, bewildered. "These proportions look suited to a bigger dragon. . . What are you going to call it?"

Hiccup blinks. "Call it?" he repeats.

Fishlegs shakes his head. "Hiccup, if you've uncovered a whole new species, you have to name it!"

Hiccup blinks, looking at the deck as he suddenly ponders. Fishlegs leaps in again, grinning. "Can I help? Oh, man, documenting a new dragon . . . that is a big responsibility. Actually, I don't know if I'm ready for that . . . "

The boy trails off and the two are left in silence, Fishlegs holding Hiccup's papers, the others being soaked to nothing by the waterlogged pier. Hiccup glances at Fishlegs. "I saw it fly."

Fishlegs' sheds his awkwardness again. "You did?"

Hiccup nods his head. "He shot up like a winged ball of fire, but he had to like...wind up first! He spun on the grass and then beat his wings—"

"Spun?" Fishlegs repeated.

The Haddock teen nods his head again. "Until it was so fast that the sparks trailed five feet behind! Just around and around—"

Fishlegs gains a thoughtful expression. "Like a typhoon?"

Hiccup nods eagerly. "Exactly! But in the end he landed in the exact same spot, like a boomerang!"

Fishlegs hums and is silent before he declares, "Typhoomerang."

Hiccup pauses. "What?"

Fishlegs beams. "That's what we should call it!" And then his smile slips off and he wrings his hands. "I mean, maybe. You probably have some ideas—"

Hiccup shook his head. "No, no, that's great! Typhoomerang." he stated supportively.

Fishlegs smiles again, but that soon leaves, too. "Hey, I'm sorry about, uh. . . " Hiccup looks at him, suddenly a lot more reserved. "The other day."

Hiccup smiles. "No big deal." He bends to gather the rest of his papers, and Fishlegs hands him the others. "What's in the tent?"

Fishlegs pales, his eyes blowing wide. "Uh. . . Nothing!"

Hiccup wonders if he should be worried, but Fishlegs had never staged pranks, only acted in the twins'. Fishlegs turns on his heel, nearly throwing himself back into the tent and yanking the sheet closed before Hiccup can see within. Hiccup watches the structure, bewildered. He shrugs. ". . . Alright." Hiccup steps onto the shore and starts into the village, muttering, "Guess we all have our secrets."

Berkians are positioned on the outskirts of town, staring at the sky with poised weapons. Hiccup passes them silently. The Great Hall looms as Hiccup walks home, and the door of a building swings outward on its hinges, creaking in the wind. Hiccup stops with the basket of fish in his arms, watching the tall wooden door.

Across the street, a Viking is within his home, and tosses a bucket of dirtied water out his window. The man lifts his head, spotting Hiccup standing before the building.

Hiccup tilts his head. He maneuvers his basket onto one arm and starts walking towards the structure.

The night comes alive with orange-yellow glow. The building explodes, a cloud of fire boiling over from within and spilling out the doors, the windows, blowing off the roof. Hiccup cries out and is shoved back by the explosion, tumbling into the dirt, and his fish go spilling in the muck as well. Shards of wood fly and the building screeches as it shudders, black smoke pumping as the structure is consumed by yellow flame.

The Viking man runs back to his window at the noise and beholds the scene below, Hiccup lying on the ground before the burning building.

"FIRE!" the man shouts

The Vikings on the prowl for dragons lift their heads at the cry, and suddenly the world before the building is alive with commotion, Berkians flooding the scene. Hiccup scrambles up, dashing off towards a well.

Stoick runs up, his face filling with horror. "The armory! Grab some buckets!"

Viking after Viking hurls water upon the stubborn flame, Hiccup among them. Fishlegs and the other teens appear in the crowd, helping adults to draw more water from below ground. Stoick tosses a bucket, and the Viking from before grabs his arm, pointing. "Chief! It was him! He set the armory on fire!"

Hiccup runs on the other end of that pointing finger, buckets of water in both hands.

Stoick's face hardens.

Hours later, dawn lights the sky with the barest bit of light blue, and black smoke lifts still from the hollowed skeleton of the armory, the structure all burned and blanketed with ash. The surrounding earth, too, is scorched.

"Every one of our spare weapons...gone." Stoick declared.

They'd gotten down on their hands and knees to crawl through the ash, they'd burned their hands on scalding swords and lumps or iron, impaled their fingers on broken arrow shafts, but there had been nothing left.

Gobber kneels in the rubble, uncovering a bent and twisted sword. "Prudence! My poor darling. I'm so sorry. You should have had a long, bloodletting life."

Gobber removes his helmet, pressing it to his heart. Mildew's staff grinds in the ash as he stands over the smith. "She didn't have to die, Gobber. Hiccup left us utterly defenseless!"

Hiccup freezes in the crowd, and the Vikings all turn to behold him, horror rippling through them all. Behind the adults, Astrid stares wide-eyed.

"Oh, no!"

"This is awful!"

"Of course. Of course!"

"This can't go on!"

"Where's Stoick!"

"We can't keep livin' like—"

"Stoick!"

Hiccup spins inside the mass of shouts, holding out his hands. "No, no, everyone, I swear, I had nothing to do with this!"

"I saw him!" The Viking strides over, and Hiccup finds himself on the end of an accusing finger.

Hiccup shakes his head. "I didn't do anything!" But by the looks of it, no one believes him.

"Cannot believe—"

"What will we do now?!"

"What if the dragons come tomorrow?"

"All my axes were—"

"—ma spear, my shield—"

Hiccup tries to speak over them. "Please—!" But then Stoick shouts, "Hiccup!" And all of Berk falls silent.

Hiccup turns around. Stoick stands apart from the crowd. Mildew smirks, leaning forward on his staff to watch.

"What have you done?" Stoick demands.

He can feel it churning in his gut. Hiccup shakes his head wildly, racing forward to beseech the chief. "Nothing! That's what I'm trying to—"

Stoick roars. "LOOK, HICCUP!"

Hiccup startles. He is well aware and familiar with his father's anger but not this. Stoick's arm flies out to indicate the armory, now only a blackened heap of melted ore and leather ash. Hiccup swallows. "Dad, I didn't—"

"This cannot go unpunished, Stoick!" Mildew declared. "He's ruined us!"

And this caused the other Vikings to shout in anger. "You have ta do something, Stoick!"

"Stoick!"

"Come on, Chief!"

"—Useless—"

Hiccup looks around before he thinks of a chance to clear his name. "I was with Fishlegs!"

Berk quiets, Hiccup's shout unexpected. Again, all of them turn on one person, this time Fishlegs Ingerman. Snotlout and the twins slide away and Astrid looks at him sharply. Fishlegs swallows, a sound that carries in the quiet.

Hiccup finds him, nodding encouragingly. "Right?"

Snotlout sneers. "You were with him?"

Ruffnut rolls his eyes, and Tuffnut mutters to her, "Ugh, he totally would."

Did Hiccup hear them? Even if he hadn't, their words and jokes were so commonplace and all at his expense. . .he had to know them.

Fishlegs gulps a second time, eyes flicking all over the crowd. In contrast, Hiccup's eyes are frozen on him, still encouraging.

One Viking woman glowers. "Well?"

Fishlegs shuffles. "I. . . uh. . . "

Stoick raises an eyebrow. "Fishlegs?"

Fishlegs looks at the Chief. Hiccup is much quieter than Stoick. ". . . Fishlegs?"

Astrid stares from the crowd. Fishlegs toys with his fingers before he admits. "Uh. . . I wasn't with him."

The Berkians murmur in assent. They'd suspected all along.

Hiccup's face falls. "What?"

Fishlegs turns away, avoiding Hiccup's eyes. Hiccup shakes his head, but then Stoick sighs. "I thought. . . I thought, perhaps, that you finally learned after Dragon Training."

Hiccup keeps shaking his head. "Dad, I swear, I didn't do it. Dad—"

Stoick shouts again. " Hiccup! Do you understand what you've done?" he said angrily. "How many weapons were stored in that armory?"

Hiccup frowns a little at that. "I help Gobber to stock it, I think I know—" he tried to remark but Stoick roars again. "THIS IS NOT FUNNY, HICCUP!"

Hiccup's fire dies and he steps back. Stoick goes on. "Berk's entire supply of swords, shields, arrows, axes. . . ALL of it, gone!"

"Not all of the weapons burned!" Hiccup looks frantically into the crowd, as if he might find help there, but there is nothing but contempt and horror in the Viking faces. Hiccup tries to speak to them anyway. "You were all patrolling tonight, and you had—"

"Only a third of Berk watched the skies tonight, Hiccup!" Stoick interrupts him. "The rest were taking well-earned rest, because in my foolishness, I let myself believe that we might be safe from disaster!" His eyes narrow. "Of course, I overlooked you!"

Hiccup does not step back this time. All the recoiling is done in his eyes.

Stoick lowers his voice ever so slightly, but is still heard from the crowd. "What were you even doing in there?"

Again, Hiccup shakes his head, but now it is very slow as he stares at his father. Stoick clenches his fists. "Tell me, Hiccup!"

Hiccup suddenly shouts, "I didn't blow up the armory!"

Now it is Stoick who takes a step back, nodding as if he understands all he sees. "At least in all your other disasters, you knew well enough to be honest."

When I decided to diverge from cannon, I suddenly was reminded of Mildew and re-watched the Riders of Berk show. I reread another HTTYD reaction fic where Hiccup threw the final match Mildew tries to stop Hiccup from succeeding Stoick as chief.

So I thought that was perfect for Hiccup to get tired of Berk's ways of life and go, "I am SO leaving!" He turns to Toothless, "We're leaving! Let's pack up and take a little vacation. Forever."

Of course in that story, Hiccup doesn't leave, but in this story, it starts his journey to Japan.

So next chapter: We are SO leaving!