WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER

ACT 1 – Beginning Of A Legend

Chapter 1: Firewood

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Hiccup Haddock the Third is a good kid. He always does his best at everything he does. When asked to clean a shield, you know that your shield will come back to you cleaner than any other shield on Berk. He always told the truth and always felt the need to prove himself to his father and to the other grownups. Everywhere the boy went his sharp green eyes looked at the world and didn't see the hate and the problems, but what could be done and the possibilities that each and everyday held and every soul that could unleash them. He himself wanted to be one of the few lucky souls who got to unleash the possibilities, to be the one people looked at and said, “There he is, the boy who changed Berk.” He fantasized about that day; the moment someone looks at him and is proud to have him in their tribe will be the best day of his life. The moment his father looks down at him and says, “I'm the luckiest father in the world.” That would be the day he would see himself as something more than useless.

~ ~ ~

A small seven year old boy hopped down rather large stairs. Each one was to steep for his little legs to reach on their own, so hopping down each one was his best option. Each wooden step creaked along with a small tap when the boy's feet hit the wood. On the last step he tripped, he gave a frightened yelp. The lad falls to the floor, he couldn't get his arms out in front of him in time and lands on his face. He gritted his teeth, trying not to cry. His father would just think less of him if he wakes up to the boy crying. Instead, he takes his place at the table, gently rubbing his nose, sniffling every now and then.

The boy was Hiccup. He lived on the island of Berk; it was very respected back when vikings once sailed the seas. A mop of auburn, threatening to be the color red, was what the boy called hair. It was morning and he had just woken up; he needed to fix his bedhead before he went out into the village. He sported normal viking pants along with the normal color, brown. His shirt was just a plain, long sleeved shirt colored green. His eyes were his second most noticeable feature. They were as green as the forest and always seemed to be filled with wonder and adventure. Though his face didn't show it, his eyes always seemed to be smiling at something. The most notable thing about Hiccup was his size. He's much smaller than anyone that age should be. His father was hoping and praying that he would grow.

The house he called home was the nicest one on Berk. But that wasn't anything to brag about. It was only because his father – Stoick the Vast – was chief, that the house was so nice. A nice fire pit was built into the ground further back into the home, but it was still affective at heating up the whole house, even the upstairs. The table was big and tall, the chairs weren't tall enough for Hiccup to sit on his butt and eat, so he resulted to sitting on his knees. It didn't bother him. Three chairs were placed at the table; one for his father, one for him and one for his mother. She was no longer with the family – a dragon had captured her when Hiccup was still sleeping in the cradle – but they kept it there as a reminder that she was once there with them. The stairs were off to the side of the house and it led to Hiccup's room. Other than some cabinets on the first floor and Stoick's room that was hidden in the back, the house was very modest. Especially if you compare it to some of the houses other chief in the archipelago have.

~ ~ ~

A door was swung open at the back of the house. It wasn't the backdoor, but Stoick's bedroom door. The viking stumbled out, looking a little more weather-worn than usual. His eyes were sunken and seemed to look not at you, but through you. Looking at the world as if it was burnt to ash. Below the eyes, Hiccup noted, seemed to be more bags than there was the other day. Hiccup's mood went a little ways south when he remembered the day before. It was just a typical day, or, it was about to be the end of a typical day. Right before the sun set, the dragons decided they were hungry and invaded Berk. It was a... well, lets just say not everyone on Berk was ready for the attack.

The viking chief gently swung the door shut, a faint sound signaled that it locked. Stoick took seat in the same chair he always sits in. It was almost an unspoken rule in the household; to sit in your chair, the same chair, every time you take rest – or eat – at the table. Their were a few other chairs spread throughout the house that were pulled over to the table if the two had company.

Stoick's chair squeaked as he got situated at the table. He looked at Hiccup. The man was looking as tired as ever. The previous night had been hard, that much Hiccup could tell. He was hiding in his room that day when the dragons attacked. He heard yells and roars and the battle cries of the battle. He heard the crackle of fire burning houses down. The explosions that the dragons' fireballs cause on impact reached the young soul, as well. By the sounds of the fight, it was safe to say that not all of the vikings made it out alive.

“Morning, son,” Stoick said in his deep, gruff voice, although it was softer due to the tiredness in his voice. He must have had very little sleep.

Hiccup flashed his father a smile.

The smile warmed Stoick up more than he thought. With the death and destruction that he witnessed last night, he didn't really know how glad he was that Hiccup was safe at home. That thought made him realize something else; countless houses had been burnt down the night before, along with some of the occupants. If his house was burnt down, than Hiccup would have never had been able to give that small, warm smile. He was a lucky man and he knew it, but he often had a hard time showing it to his son.

“Morning,” Hiccup replied in his small voice that was deprived of the accent that the other vikings had. Stoick new his boy was a little odd and different, but he loved him for it, even if it could be a little annoying and frustrating at times.

Stoick got up from his seat. “I'm going to go get some firewood to make a fire,” he said. Hiccup sunk into his seat and studied his hands, his face slipped into a tiny frown. Stoick gave him a knowing look, his mood lightening. “You want to come help?” Hiccup's face brightened; a huge, toothy, grin made its way onto his face and his eyes seemed to brighten. He shook his head vigorously and hopped off the chair with enthusiasm. It wasn't very often he was able to help his father, since most of his duties were for grownups. Hiccup's excitement to help made Stoick laugh.

The log pile was set stacked on top of each other at the side of the house. But, when father and son went to gather some, they found that the wood was gone. The ground where the wood used be was scorched. Hiccup's frown came back and his shoulders slouched. The dragons must have burnt the wood to a crisp.

Stoick was upset for a completely different reason. The house's wall had a slight scorch mark on the wood, as well. He looked down at Hiccup, who was studying the burnt marks, and realized how close he was to having no home, and no son. He couldn't lose him like he lost Valka.

“I guess we won't get any firewood,” Hiccup sighed, looking up at his father. Stoick scratched his messy, red beard. He hadn't had time to braid it so it was a mess, spraying out in all directions. Hiccup always thought it made him look like he was crazy.

“Guess not,” he said. But then smiled. “Not from here, anyway.” Hiccup tilted his head to the side slightly, in thought. Stoick new the gears in his boys head were turning. It was harder to tell when Hiccup wasn't thinking than when he was.

Hiccup smiled, getting what his father meant. “You mean were going to get some from the storage house?” Stoick smiled and nodded.

“But after I braid my beard, and you fix that mess on the top of your head you like to call hair,” he said, ruffling Hiccup's hair. The boy squealed and ran back into the house, Stoick chuckled and followed after his son.

~ ~ ~

The storage house was close to the Great Hall. Since the Hall was where vikings spent time in emergencies, they built the storage house close to it just in case the needed something. There were three different rooms in the storage house. It was bigger than all of the other houses on Berk so it could hold all they needed. The only thing grander in size was the Great Hall.

Gobber and a few other vikings were standing around the outside of the storage house when Hiccup and Stoick walked over. Well, Stoick walked, Hiccup skipped. Hiccup smiled when he saw his blacksmith teacher. He was also a kind of mentor for the boy. He had heard the stories of what Gobber had done while fighting the dragons. He was almost as impressive as his dad. Whatever Gobber told him to do he did it. If he could be anything like Gobber he knew his father would be proud. But Hiccup struggled with any of the heavy jobs that Gobber would give him from time to time; if it involve lifting than Hiccup probably wouldn't be best for the job. But he tried his best anyway.

“Oi, Gobber,” Stoick greeted. He knew something was amiss when he saw the vikings standing around like confused ducks. If something happened to the storage house it would mean bad news for the village.

“Stoick,” Gobber greeted back. The viking shook his head and looked back over at the storage house. “Bad news.”

Stoick sighed and rubbed his wrinkled forehead.

“Don't tell me-”

“Yep, the dragons burnt down the storage house, we have nothing left. It must have been after the attack, because I swear it was still standing by the end of the raid,” Gobber cut in. Stoick cursed. Winter would be in here in but a few days. If the storage house was gone than they'd either freeze to death or starve to death. Stoick peered around Gobber to get a better look at the storage house. He shoved passed him.

The wood on the house was scorched, some of it had caved in on its self, leaving some jagged wood sprouting out. Ash was piled up on the ground, tinting the ground black. Some ash occasionally blew away with the wind. The smell of burnt wood surrounded the storage house. It was depressing. All of the hard work the village put in to fill it was just burned up. It took them all of summer and spring to fill it and now the dragons had taken it from them.

This is why Stoick hates the beasts so much. You work so hard to do something and then the beasts come along and completely ruin it.

“That's not the only thing, Stoick,” Gobber said. His friend turned and looked at him. His eyebrow raised in wonder, but his eyes were cold. “I believe a new dragon did this.” Hiccup bounded up closer to Gobber.

“A new dragon!” He squealed. His lips smiled and his eye grew wide with excitement. He had his arms locked to his side, his hands in fists. He was hopping up and down. The blacksmith smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. The only one who would be more excited would be that Ingerman boy, Fishlegs. Gobber knew the boy had a thing for dragons that most vikings don't. Like Bork – the founder of Berk – he was fascinated by them and thought that they were amazing creatures. The only other person on Berk who thought that way was Valka. Gobber new Hiccup took after his mother more so than his father.

“Yes, Hiccup,” Gobber said, trying to match the boys excitement. But his voice was forced and lacked that little something that people had when they grew excited. The new dragon filled him with a little bit of worry, actually. The worriers of Berk had learned how to fight the types of dragons that already plague their island. A new dragon would pose as a huge threat since they would have to learn about it, figure out its weakness and then they'll have to fight it off. Plus, this would be the first new dragon in years. What if this is just the first of many new dragons that would come to Berk? They had enough trouble with the amount of dragons that they had to fight now, more would mean the death of Berk.

Gobber and Stoick looked at each other. A silent conversation between the two confirmed what Stoick was thinking. He bent down to meet Hiccup's gaze.

“Son,” he said. “Why don't you go off and find your friends? I have some chief things I have to take care of.” Hiccup frowned. He didn't have many friends, so he would have to go off and play by himself as he normally does. His father was always so busy, he never got to hangout with him. Hiccup nodded and Stoick patted him on the shoulder. “Off ye go, then.” Hiccup said goodbye to Gobber and ran down the hill to the main village.

Hiccup wasn't in the mood to play with his “friends” at the moment. He was more worried of running into the village bullies; Snotlout ant the twins, Tuffnut and Ruffnut. He didn't understand what he had ever done to them that made them hate him. It was what it was and Hiccup wasn't going to try and change it, mostly because he would have to seek them out in order to do so. He didn't like that idea to much.

So, Hiccup continued down into the heart of the village, than took off to his left, sprinting towards the thickest woods Berk had to offer. He loved being outdoors. The smell of the pine trees that the woods offered was one of his favorite things about it. He also liked how he could hide away from the world in the woods. No one could see him hiding in the bushes. It made him feel a little empowered; he could chose whether or not someone could see him. The woods were his friend and Hiccup needed all the friends he could get. Being a little different than the other vikings made it hard for him to mingle. There were only two kids his age who liked to hang out with him and then their were his father and Gobber. It wasn't so bad, but he knew people looked at him and wished he was bigger and stronger and more like a normal viking. That was Hiccup's drive, to prove that he is as good as anyone of those sword-wielding, ax- throwing, bearded vikings. He would get there... someday.

Hiccup giggled as he sprinted into the forest. The village disappeared behind him, soon getting blocked by the trees and bushes and tall grass. Hiccup didn't stop running, but picked up his speed. He jumped over roots and rocks. He let his hands glade the leaves of bushes and some tall flowers. A large toothy grin showed on the boys face and his eyes sparkled as he sprinted into the forest.

He finally had to stop for breath, but the smile didn't leave his face. He took a seat on a fallen log, taking deep breaths. He kicked his feet back and forth and looked around the forest; trees looked so big from his little seat on the log. The trees stretched high above him, they made a nice roof of branches and leaves. Hiccup loved how the sun found its way to him, poking through the leaves, leaving a streak of golden light. The flowers on Berk were nice, too. There were red ones and yellow ones, some of them made him sneeze when he sniffed them. The only thing he had to watch out for were the thorn bushes. Those were nasty things. But Hiccup knew how to stay away from those. There were also wild boars, but those hung around the plains; Hiccup didn't like the planes as much. They were to open for his comfort. Nope, he loved the woods more than candy.

~ ~ ~

Stoick and Gobber were at the blacksmiths. Gobber was working and talking to Stoick at the same time. Hiccup should be here with Gobber, as he was his apprentice, but it was best that he was off playing. He and Stoick had some things to talk about, those things involving the village and the new dragon.

The blacksmith was off a little ways from the village, that way, if something went wrong ,the fire from the smithy could be stopped before it spread to the houses. It was mostly stone, but a house was built onto the side of it. Gobber lived there. A chimney made of red-orange brick sprouted out at the top of the smithy; it often had smoke puffing out of it. There was no door, just a stone ark. There was a large window used for passing out weapons when the dragons attack. Gobber was one of the best blacksmiths in the archipelago and he knew it, but he was also humble about it. He knew not to brag about his skills, but only because he saw the potential in Hiccup. If he bragged about his skills as a blacksmith, then he would never hear the end of it when Hiccup surpassed the teacher.

Stoick sat on a stool while Gobber hammered away on a sword. A loud CLANG rang out every time Gobber brought the hammer down.

“What are we going to do, Gobber?” Stoick asked as his friend put the sword into a pool of water to cool it off. The smith shrugged and placed the sword onto the table.

“I don't know,” he said, leaning on the table.

“That new dragon blew apart our storage house! In... how many shots did you say?” Gobber scratched his chin.

“There were three different impact points,” Gobber said. Stoick shook his head. That dragon has one the most powerful shots out of any in the dragon kingdom. Well, any dragon that Berk had ever faced.

Maybe that dragon wouldn't come back. Maybe Gobber was mistaken? Maybe it was a normal dragon and nothing special... maybe.

Stoick sighed. He would deal the idea of a new dragon later, right now he had to figure out how to restock the storage house before winter. Men were already rebuilding it as he and Gobber spoke.

“How long do you think it'll take until the storage house is fixed?” Stoick asked his friend. Gobber was used to building and rebuilding things, so Stoick thought it would be best to get his opinion. But deflated when the blacksmith just shrugged.

“Don't know,” he said, but Stoick knew what his answer would be. Gobber turned back to the sword he had been working on and examined it.

“So, Stoick, what are ye going to do?” Gobber asked. The chief looked up at him and stood up.

“Don't know, but I can't do anything sitting here.”

~ ~ ~

Hiccup was admiring the world around him. He had been spying on a bees nest through his spy glass, made a trap for a bunny rabbit, but he would let it go if he caught it, his father would kill it if Hiccup brought it back. It was when the boy was working on another trap that he heard voices and the sound of wood hitting wood.

It was coming from a little ways into the wood, deeper than where Hiccup was. The boy followed the sound, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks. He pushed his way through a bush, what had been making the sound was revealed to him.

A girl and her father were training. The girl was Astrid Hofferson, she was throwing a wooden ax at a tree while her father – Hiccup couldn't remember his name – was giving her instructions. He was impressed by how well Astrid was doing. So far he had seen her throw a few axes, two stuck. He smiled; he wished he could do that. But, with his father being so busy all of the time, he was often left watching while the other kids got to hangout with their parents, well, when they weren't off with friends.

Hiccup crawled out of the bush and got a better seat. They were beneath him; Hiccup watching a from a little cliff. Hiccup had gone unnoticed and he planned to keep it that way. He didn't want to interrupt Astrid from her training. She was one of his few friends. She was also his favorite friend because she stood up to the bullies. Snotlout and Tuffnut couldn't hit a girl. Ruffnut was female and she could, but Astrid could probably take on all three of them on if she wanted to.

He smiled as another ax sunk his way into the tree. But, on the next throw, her ax bounced off harmlessly. Her father snapped at her immediately.

“Come on, Astrid!” The man yelled. “You'll have to better than that.” Astrid looked down at the ground. Hiccup was surprised her father talked to her like that. “Honestly, sometimes I wish I had a son who wasn't such a failure when it came to fighting!” Hiccup narrowed his eyes at the man and was little surprised that Astrid just took it. Grant it, he was her father, but a dad shouldn't talk to his daughter like that. It was when the man hit her on the back of her head did Hiccup slide down to where the two were.

“You can't hit her1” Hiccup yelled. The man seemed a little flustered when he saw Hiccup. It was true he hadn't seen him, but it was that Hiccup saw him hit Astrid that got him flustered. Astrid's blue eyes widen at him. “She was doing great! So what, she missed one, she sunk the other three!” The man narrowed his eyes at him.

“Yes, she missed one! An enemy could have gotten to her and then it'd be to late!” The man shouted.

“But she sunk the other three! That's three enemies down. Three enemies that can no longer hurt anyone!” Hiccup shot back. He was small in stature, but was as stubborn as a mule. “And even if she never got the ax to stick in a tree again, it doesn't mean you get to hit her!” Astrid stood off to the side, watching. No one knew that her and her dad's training sometimes got a little violent between the two. No one believed her when she said her father hit her. But now someone did believe her.

“You just go mind you own business, Hiccup!” The man spat back. “I don't have to be mouthed off by a useless boy!” The man was looming over Hiccup now. Hiccup hated that word and backed off. His eyes were wide. “Why don't you go and disgrace Berk some more you pathetic loser!”

Hiccup's lower lip tremble and a tear threatened to fall.

“You going to cry?” The man mocked. Hiccup didn't like this guy, he was a bully like the other boys. It was a good thing Astrid didn't like bullies.

“Stop it, dad!” She shouted. The man shot his glare over to her.

“Or what?”He asked. Astrid looked at him.

“Or I'll throw an ax at you,” she threatened, her eyes were cold. The man laughed.

“If you throw it like you've been than I'm not worried.” Astrid hands were in fists, but here lower lip was trembling.

“I wish mom was here instead of you,” she said quietly. “Ever since she died you've just been abusing me because you're mad and I'm the only one who can't do anything about it!” The man took a step back, his eyes wide.

There was a silence, father and daughter stared at each other.

“Who's going to believe you?” Astrid's father said at last. His voice was still cold.

“Me,” Hiccup said. Both turned to look at him. “And, once I tell my father, he'll know and believe, too.” The man's eyes began to show fear. “My father lost his wife, too. But he doesn't go off and hurt me and make me feel like I'm useless,” - although there were a few times he noted that his father was disappointed in him - “and abuse me! He loves me because I'm the only thing that he has left of his wife!” The man, and Astrid, were shocked that someone so young would even be able to think up, let alone deliver, such a speech. The man looked back at Astrid. “Say your sorry and I won't tell my dad. But if Astrid tells me you hit her ever again, then Stoick is going to find out. You can count on it.”

Astrid's father seemed to have a few tears in his eyes. What Hiccup said had reached him, and it hurt him that it was true. He got down onto his knees and looked Astrid in the eyes.

“S–sorry,” he said. Hiccup could tell he wasn't used to apologizing. Words were shared among the two and Hiccup smiled when they hugged. He thought it strange to see a full grown man cry, but it seemed like the two were going to try and start again.

When father and daughter broke up the hug, they saw that Hiccup was gone. He must have scurried off back into the woods.

“That's quite the friend you've got there,” the man said to Astrid. She nodded, her eyes still looking for signs of Hiccup. “Don't let him get to far away.” The man left, he knew Astrid knew how to get back. The girl pondered what her father had told her. Don't let him get to far away? She thought. She didn't know what it meant, but started off to look for Hiccup.

She found him a couple minutes later, drawing in the dirt. She peered over his shoulder and saw that he was drawing a dragon. It was a pretty good drawing, better than most she had seen. Astrid tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump. She giggled.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” she said. Hiccup's brow furrowed.

“Scared? I wasn't scared,” he defended, but neither he or Astrid believed it. She sat down next to him.

“That's a pretty good drawing.” Hiccup smiled at her.

“Thanks.” He continued to draw the dragon, but was a little nervous with Astrid watching him, though he didn't know why.

“Thank you,” Astrid said after a moment.

“What?”

“Thank you, for standing up for me.”

“Oh... No problem, you would have done the same for me.”

“If it was the twins or Snotlout, than yes. But I wouldn't stand up to your father.” Hiccup shrugged.

“I understand, he can be scary at times.” Astrid chuckled.

The two talked on, but a rustle in the bushes stopped them. The two snapped their heads to look at what was making the bush move. They didn't see anything, but Hiccup could have sworn he saw a pair of green eyes looking at him, but then they quickly disappeared. The rustling stopped after that. He asked Astrid if she saw anything and she said no. Hiccup guessed it was just his imagination and let it be. He and Astrid decided it was time to get out of the woods. It wasn't getting dark, it wasn't even lunch time, but the bush had freaked both of them out a little, though they would admit it.

Hiccup took one last look at the bush, wondering if he did see anything, but dismissed it and headed back to the village with Astrid.

WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER

ACT 1 – Beginning Of A Legend

Chapter 2: Scale

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Hiccup and Astrid came out of the woods at a sprint. Astrid loved to run. She loved the small adrenaline boost you got when you pumped your legs as fast as possible. Hiccup was right behind her, his small legs moving just enough to keep up with the girl. The two laughed and giggle with every step they took, enjoying the perfect day... well, in Berk's standards.

They rushed into the village, ducking under long logs being carried by vikings. Weaving in and out of the crowds that were out and about in the market.

Hiccup loved days like today. It was a rare sunny day for the island; the warmth of the suns rays could actually be felt upon the skin. When most days were filled with snow and rainstorms, you took the days where it was a joy to be outside. Everything seemed to live by that principle. The animals were out and frolicking in the woods, hiding from the village. Birds sang out, tweeting their unique song high up in the trees. Hiccup had already seen a squirrel, its cheeks seemingly about to burst with whatever it it managed to stuff in there.

By the way Astrid ran and jumped and laughed, Hiccup guessed she loved the chance to play outside.

Hiccup and Astrid finally had to stop. Both had a stupid grin on their faces while they tried to catch their breath. They were in the main part of the village; houses outlined the market, creating a semicircle. There were a few vikings out and about, some carrying supplies, some were carrying newborns and others were sitting in little makeshift stands, selling goods from food to supplies and toys. A few mothers would walk by Hiccup and Astrid; they had found a bench to rest on. The mothers would smile, an almost knowing look on their faces'. Hiccup and Astrid would smile back to be polite.

“That was fun,” Astrid said. Hiccup smiled at her. “You can run faster than I thought.” The boy was happier to hear that then he expected. He looked up to Astrid, though he would never tell her that.

“Thanks,” he said. The two sat there, there feet not quite touching the ground. They talked about numerous things and Hiccup told her that Gobber thinks they found a new dragon. That peaked her interest. He told her they hadn't seen it, but that the dragon seems to have the most devastating fire. If Fishlegs were here, he'd probably try to put statistics on the dragon.

“I would, though.” A voice sounded off behind the two sitting on the bench. They smiled when they saw that it was Fishlegs.

“Sorry,” Hiccup said. Fishlegs just smiled and waved his hand in a dismissing manner.

“Don't be,” he said. “It's true that I would and I don't care what other people think.” Astrid scooted closer to Hiccup and motioned Fishlegs to sit on the other side of her. The larger boy happily obliged.

“It's good you don't care what other people think,” Astrid said. “Most people don't like it when you're not like them.” Astrid studied her hands. Her voice had slipped and steadily decreased into a depressing tone while she spoke. Hiccup knew she must be thinking about her dad. He nudged her arm playfully and she smiled.

Fishlegs went on to talk about how awesome it would be to see a new dragon, or, rather, hear about the new dragon from the grownups after they fight it. There was noway he was going to get up close to study it. He couldn't wait for people to start and add it to the Book of Dragons. He had been reading it ever since his parents taught him how to. Fishlegs already had most of the statistics memorized, but was learning a little extra every time he went back and read it over.

Hiccup knew just enough about dragons to engage in a conversation with him, but Astrid hadn't learned all that much about them. She said goodbye to Fishlegs and told Hiccup she enjoyed playing with him. And with another quick thanks, she got up and headed off into the village, disappearing into the wave of vikings.

The two friends talked on about the dragons. They gradually grew away from the new one that might have appeared, and were now talking about all sorts of dragons. Fishlegs even told Hiccup about some dragons that he had never hear of before. Hiccup's fascination with the monsters grew.

~ ~ ~

Eventually, Hiccup said goodbye to his friend and headed off to the forge. He would probably get chastised about being so late, but he didn't mind it to much. Gobber would scold him quickly with a few words, then end in a joke, making his previous lecture forgotten. Hiccup spotted the smoke in the sky, a tail tell sign that Gobber was at work in his forge.

Hiccup poked his head in, his eyes scanning the interior. Gobber was nowhere to be found in the shop.

“'Ello, Hiccup!” A voice sounded behind Hiccup, successfully making him jump. He spun around, knowing Gobber would be there to meet him. The blacksmith chuckled in the way he always does. The sound sometime gets annoying because he chuckles all of the time. Hiccup guessed that that's what happens when you live a happy-go-lucky life. But, still, the sound of his laughter could warm your core on a day when everything is falling apart.

“Sorry,” Gobber continued. “Didn't mean to scare ya.” Hiccup rolled his eyes, his face scrunching up into a scowl.

“I wasn't scared,” he muttered. Gobber nodded his head in fake concern.

“Oh, of course you weren't. You just like to jump a lot.” Hiccup groaned.

“I was startled. Not scared. It is completely different.” Gobber laughed and patted Hiccup on the shoulder, almost knocking him over into the dirt.

“I'm just messin' with ya,” Gobber sighed, a smile on his face. Hiccup chuckled and smiled back.

“I know... Goober.” Now Gobber rolled his eyes. When Hiccup was first learning to talk, he always called Gobber, Goober. At first it was nothing, but it was when Hiccup got older, around 3-4, that it began to get annoying. Hiccup could pronounce his name perfectly, but always chose Goober because he knew it annoyed the man. Since then, the two would constantly pick on each other. Both knowing that whatever insult was thrown their way was merely friendly teasing.

Gobber took him by the shoulder and pulled him close as they entered the forge. “Ye late,” Gobber sighed.

“Sorry,” was Hiccup's half-baked apology. He wasn't going to tell his smithy friend of what he saw in the woods.

Gobber led Hiccup into the forge, where the boy took his normal seat and waited for Gobber to... well, it was different everyday.

Hiccup loved the forge. He loved to use his hands – no matter how small they may be – and create anything his mind could think up. He had his own little workshop that Gobber built just for him. It was even his size! The tables and chairs weren't to big and he had complete privacy. Aside from building and crafting, Hiccup found the smell inviting. It was strange, because it often smelled like smoke, metal and the occasional sulfur. He guessed it was because of how much time he spent in the place; when you ask someone where their home is, they'd point to a house. Not Hiccup, why he might give the direction to his home, that is only because he knows what you want. He feels more at home in the forge, with the deadly weapons, fire and smoke. It was his favorite place on the whole island... well, aside from the woods.

“So, what are we doing today, Gobber?” Hiccup asked in a small, polite voice. The blacksmith smiled at the lad. He started scanning the forge, thinking. It wasn't until his sight landed on a small ax did he get an idea. An idea that he was sure Hiccup was skilled enough to do, an idea that Hiccup had wanted to do for months now.

“We... are... going to be forging your very first weapon!” He said slowly as he peeked at Hiccup through the corner of his eye. He could tell the kid was trying to stay in his seat.

“Really?!” He all but screamed. Gobber smiled wider and nodded, turning to face the boy fully.

“Of course!” Gobber replied with just as much enthusiasm as the young boy. Hiccup got up from his chair, no longer able to hold his excitement.

“Lets get started then!” He said as he jumped up and down. Gobber nodded.

“Agreed.” He patted the desk that was just in front of Hiccup. “Climb up here and we'll start to work.” Hiccup did so, sitting on his knees once he got to the top. A smile bigger than Gobber had ever seen on the boy played on his face. His eyes unable to go any wider; they were practically spilling anticipation.

Gobber began telling Hiccup all that was needed to build a weapon. From what wood he should use as a handle, to the best type of iron. Hiccup knew all of this from watching Gobber, but every time he brought it up, the man shushed him and continued.

He went on and began to explain how forging works and how hot the fire needs to be in order to melt the iron. He showed him how to pick up the heated steal without burning himself and what to do in case he did get burned.

Hiccup quickly grew bored. This was all just reviewing what he already knew. He supposed it was kinda necessary, but it was still boring. His hand ached to build something. This was just the first step in being a real blacksmith. After this, Hiccup was sure that he'd get to do more building with Gobber and then, once he got Gobber's trust, he might even be able to do it whenever he wanted, without the supervision of his teacher. He tingled just thinking about it.

Gobber knew all of his reviewing was boring the poor kid to death, he only wanted to make a sword. But he knew that what he was doing was for the better. Years ago, in the earlier days of Berk, Gobber was learning the same thing from his teacher; how to forge a weapon. He was beyond ecstatic and couldn't wait to get his hands dirty. Maybe a little to ecstatic. He remembered the night like it was yesterday.

-35 years ago-

“I got it!” A young Gobber exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air to show of his annoyance. His mentor just shook his head at him.

“I'm telling you this for you own good, Gobber!” The man replied with a shout. Gobber rolled his eyes.

“I've been waiting two years for this! I don't want to go over the things I already know!” The man looked at Gobber with sad eyes, but they also had a twinkle of malice in them.

“I'm going to get some extra iron from the storage house. Do not touch ANYTHING!” The man demanded. He shuffled pass Gobber and left him, heading out into the village square where houses were currently being constructed. Gobber watched him as he disappeared into the mess of vikings yelling, hammering, cutting, and cursing while they slowly erected more homes. A devious smile crept onto his face as he looked back into the forge.

Grabbing the tools he would need and some old scrap metal, Gobber heated the furnace until it was so hot that it threatened to burn your eyebrows off if you got to close. He threw a couple of metal scraps into the rowing flames, watching as cinders flew out and hearing the sound of sizzling metal. It was like music to his ears. He would show his mentor that he knew what he was doing.

Everything was going perfectly. Gobber had a near perfect sword on the stone counter, hammering away, creating sparks. But he made a mistake. In his haste, Gobber still wore his normal clothing. His normal, non-fireproof, clothing. Sparks flew out in every direction; Gobber needed to get close to the sword to be able to hit it hard enough. He hadn't rolled up his sleeves, so they dangled dangerously close to the razing hot steel and the sparks that flew off. One spark nicked his sleeve. Gobber didn't notice it at first, but the arm sleeve began to burn, smoke quietly began to form as it floated into the air.

Then the fire lit. Gobber cried out and waved his arm frantically in the air. The fire began growing larger, hotter. Gobber lost reasoning as he tried to put out the flames. Nothing seemed to be working. He finally grew an ounce of sense, and submerged his arm into a bucket of water nearby. The heat meeting the cool water caused a sizzling sound, but that quickly dispersed and smoked raised from the bucket.

When Gobber's instructor came back, he found Gobber, lying on the floor and holding arm; crying. He got a small lecture, but Gobber's instructor thought he suffered enough.

-Present-

Gobber shuddered; he could still feel the burns. He was lucky, though, that the hair still grew on that burn mark the fire created. It had formed into a scar, but was still noticeable. He didn't want Hiccup making the same mistake.

He quizzed Hiccup on everything he showed him; the boy answered everything perfectly. Gobber looked at him and nodded, a somewhat worried smile etched onto his face. He gave the OK to Hiccup and the boy jumped in the air in excitement. He was finally going to get to forge something.

But then disaster struck.

Hiccup had been doing everything right... until he tripped. He had a sword fresh from the “oven” and was carrying it right over to the pool of water – it wasn't very far away, but there's no account for when Hiccup... well... hiccups. Hiccup tripped, but caught himself before he fell over. The sword, however, crashed onto the ground. Sparks flew everywhere; The boy stumbled back, trying to avoid them. Before Gobber could do anything to intervene, Hiccup crashed into a shelf, spilling a bucket at the top.

The boy didn't know what black substance fell out of the bucket, but he was glad it wasn't on him. Whatever was in the bucket reached the molten sword. Gobber cried out, but before he could grab the weapon, the substance reached the blade.

Fire.

Whatever had been in the bucket – oil, perhaps? - burst into flames. The fire illuminated Hiccup's frightened face; the fire was in front of him. Gobber yelled at him to get out of the forge, but he was frozen in fear. The fire was coming ever closer to him. The blacksmith forgot about the burning forge, he only wanted to get Hiccup out of here. A wall of fire separated the two of them. Gobber took a couple of quick breaths, knowing what he was about to do was insane and stupid. But he did it anyway. The blacksmith leaped through the flames; a burning sensation went through his body for a split second while his body passed through the roaring flames, but it passed by the time his feet hit the ground.

He scooped Hiccup off the ground, the kids face frozen on the flames. The fire was expanding through the whole forge. It seemed to grab onto the nearest object, never wanting to let go.

Gobber headed for the front of the shop and a sense of relief shot through him when he stepped out of the forge. Hiccup was still in his arms; when the blacksmith set him down, he burst into tears. Gobber just gave him a sharp glare, then turned to look at the forge.

The whole place was engulfed in the ever-growing fire. It spilled out of cracks in the rock and the archway; releasing a cloud of smoke into the sky. Gobber took a step forward only to be met with an explosion that sent him onto his back. The blast knocked Hiccup over as well, making the tears fall even harder.

The fire had grabbed the entire forge, the blast blowing chunks of rock into the sky. Gobber was glad the debris didn't come near them. But his eyes widen when he saw the fire had reached –

“My house!” Gobber shouted. His home was connected to the side of the forge, the flames jumped from the forge to the wooden house. There was so much more that could burn there.

Gobber alerted the village and told Hiccup to get to his own home. He didn't object and made a beeline for it.

The fire was spreading. Gobber's house couldn't be saved as it succumbed to the flames and crashed in on it's self. The woods were behind the forge and the house, the flames spotted its next target. The fire jumped from the house to a tree, the fire racing to the top of it. The whole tree was ablaze by the time the first viking came over with a bucket of water.

The fire began to spread, everything it touched got devoured. Pitch black smoke rose from the flames, blocking out the sun. It made the day become night. It looked like something out of your worst nightmare. Sparks and cinders flew everywhere as the fire roared on. The site was terrifying, but the noise added to the effect. The fire crackled as it consumed everything in its path, almost like it was laughing at you as you watch it helplessly destroy your world.

The fire had already consumed at least twenty trees and was still spreading. It grew in length and width as it spread in all directions. The people of Berk were hopelessly lost as they threw bucket after bucket of water on it.

Then it found its way to the village.

Screams erupted as the fire began to eat the wood of their homes. The wind blew with ferocity, carrying the fire to more homes. People scattered about the village, some carrying a few possessions and others were holding children and babies.

Stoick was aware of the epidemic the moment Gobber's house caught on fire, but there was nothing anyone could do. He saw Hiccup run to his house, so he new that he was safe, the fire seemed to be heading the opposite way.

His thundering footsteps lead him to the village. It was a horrible site. The village he spent years protecting was up in flames. His people were frantic, swarming him as to know what to do. The fire crew were doing there best, but the flames could not be hindered in their plan to kill everything and everyone.

Stoick didn't know what hell looked like, but he assumed this was it looked like.

A frantic women came running up to Stoick, shoving passed the crowed that surrounded him. Her hair was wild, some strands of air sticking out the sides of her head. She had bags under her eyes and a look of pure terror on her face.

“MY BABY!” The women yelled. She kept yelling it over and over again. She had grabbed Stoick by the shoulders and wouldn't let go as she kept yelling “my baby”. Stoick got her to shut up just long enough to ask her to be more specific. She pointed to a house engulfed in the devil's fire and yelled “MY BABY! He's still in there!”

Stoick didn't think twice. He shoved trough the crowed, some falling over in the process. He saw the house the women had pointed to. He was thankful he couldn't see fire, but a large amount of smoke seeped through the cracks in the wood and the door. There was no way someone could breath in there.

Stoick shielded his face with his forearms and literally ran through the door, making it shatter. The large chief bent over, trying his best to get his head out of the smoke.

There was only a small fire in the house, some flames were on the walls and other small patches were on the ground. It seemed like the smoke just formed out of thin air.

He heard the high pitched scream of a newborn at the other end of the house. It was only a one story building, so Stoick thought it would be an easy rescue.

He was wrong.

A loud crack sounded outside the house. It dimmed the sounds of the roaring flames as Stoick could tell something was falling... something big. Stoick froze as the sound stopped.

A tree crashed through the roof of the house. The sound of wood crashing through wood was deafening. The flames must have eaten away at the wood of the tree, sending it crashing down. Fire from the tree instantly spread to the remnants of the house. Stoick knew he had to act quickly if he or the child was going to make it out of this place alive.

He was relieved when the piercing wail of the baby rained from the crib where he laid. The flaming tree was in his way, but the fire spreading throughout the house threatened to make it collapse.

Stoick took a deep breath

Not to many things scared the man, but this got his adrenaline running. He understood what he had to do.

Taking a step back, Stoick ran with a battle cry. He placed his foot on the burning tree and jumped. He felt the heat of the fire the moment his covered foot touched the burning tree. The heat that radiated from the tree alone was intense as globs of sweat ran down his arms and face. But the heat dispersed slightly as he landed on the other side of the tree.

He spotted the crib holding the babe. Flames were creeping ever closer to the cradle as the child screamed on. Stoick took a few great steps and peered over into the child. A small smile crept onto his face when he saw that the child was unharmed.

Picking up the babe and holding him close to his body for protection, Stoick leaped through the flames and over the fallen tree. The moment Stoick stepped out of the house, the building crumbled into a pile of burning wood.

The mother of the infant was in Stoick's face in seconds, almost ripping the baby from him. The woman was in tears, cradling the child close to her as she thanked Stoick over and over again.

Another gust of wind, its howling mixed with the roar of the flames. Combined they sounded like a growl from a great beast.

Looking around, Stoick saw people trying to put out the fire, but it was hopeless.

“GET BACK!” Stoick yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth. “GET BACK! IT'S HOPELESS!” His voice rained out in deep bellows, but the howling wind and roaring fire drowned him out into a small sounding mouse. The men, however, must have felt him as they began to turn and flee.

Stoick took one more look around the village. It was like he was in a nightmare; everything you've worked for being burned up in flames the seemed to be sent from Loki himself. The fire was taking everything, but the wind was blowing away from his house; that gave him hope that Hiccup was OK.

~ ~ ~

Gobber had told Hiccup to go home, but home never felt like home for him. The boy headed towards the woods, hoping that the cluster of the trees would hide him from the world. The world that he had just set on fire.

Trees were a blur in his peripheral vision as his feet carried him faster then he had ever ran before.

After minutes of running, Hiccup found that his feet were taking him uphill. His small legs began to tire out as he finally slowed to a halt.

He was on a cliff, over looking the woods and parts of the village. Fire consumed everything he looked at. Pitch black smoke rose from the trees and burning houses, all of it merging together in the sky, creating an eerie, unnatural black cloud. Everything was getting destroyed and it was all his fault.

Why am I such a screw up? Hiccup though to himself. I can't do anything! Gobber gives me a chance to forge my first weapon and I blow it! Dad is going to hate me, literally HATE me! He's going to wish I was never born!

I'm always going to be a loser!

Hiccup had forgotten about the tears that had stopped flowing, but when he saw all the destruction he had caused, they began to fall again.

Then the ground shook beneath his feet. Hiccup waved his arms frantically, trying to regain his balance. His body going back and forth as the ground jostled him. Then it stopped.

Hiccup didn't think it was an earthquake, it was just on his ledge... oh.

Before Hiccup could move, the ledge gave out from beneath his feet. He slipped down with the soil, riding the landslide as it pushed him all the way to the ground. The landslide picked up sticks and stones, sending them all down the mountain.

Hiccup was terrified. He thought he was going to die as he was hurtled down the mountain. His eyes were snapped shut, a scream ringing out of his mouth. He felt the wetness of the mud, the sticks pricking his skin and the rocks pelting his body.

The horror ride felt like it was going on forever, but Hiccup finally slid to a stop at the bottom of the mountain. He slowly stood up, silently thanking the gods for staying on top of the landslide.

He put a hand to his throbbing head, looking up at his new location. He screamed and took a step back.

Fire was everywhere around him. The wind was still howling, blowing the flames around wildly. Hiccup, terrified, turned to run. But the mudslide was in his way, trapping him between a rock and a hot place.

Hiccup screamed for help, for any kind of help. He just wanted to go home and hide underneath his bed. But no one heard his cries. Well... that's not entirely true.

A loud crack sounded off in the roaring fire. Wood splitting found its way to Hiccup, causing him to look up into the burning woods.

Hiccup's eyes widened when a tree, all the leaves burnt off and the branches the only thing feeding the flame, came crashing down. A trail of fire following behind it. Hiccup shielded his head with his arms, the giant inferno tree falling right towards him. But something hit him, no, something shoved him out of the way.

Hiccup was sent rolling on the dirt floor of the woods, finally coming to a stop. He quickly sat up and looked for who – or what – pushed him. But he quickly forgot about that when he saw the tree. It was still burning, but was no longer erect. In stead, it was lying on its side, right where Hiccup was sitting.

He thanked the the mystery being out loud, hoping whoever had saved his life had heard him. But the stranger was nowhere to be seen. Or, at least, Hiccup didn't see him. A new type of sound knocked Hiccup out of his state of shock, and forced him to turn around.

Then he saw it. It was the same large, green eyes that he saw this morning. They were peering at him through a burning bush. How doesn't it burn? He thought. A tail slithered out of the burning bush and made motion to him. The tail was black and it looked like it had two small tail fins on the sides of its tail.

Hiccup squinted his eyes, wanting to know more about the thing. It couldn't be a dragon, it was to small and the tail looked nothing like a Terrible Terror's. Than it hit him, it must be the new dragon Gobber had said blew up the storage room. He began to back up, slowly.

Than the world around him caught his attention again. The burning hell he created was creeping closer and closer to his little island free of flames. His eyes shot back to the burning bush and the black tail. Again, it motioned for him over.

Hiccup had to think fast; go over to the new dragon that his people fought for generations, or face the fire and burn to death. He did a quick double take of the tail and the fire... he made his decision.

A tentative hand reached out and grabbed the tail. Hiccup was yanked through the fiery bush, the sensation of heat met him as he was pulled into the bush. But, as soon as it started, it ended.

Hiccup didn't know when he had closed his eyes, but, when he opened them, he found himself lying on the ground in a... in a cove. Hiccup slowly got up into a sitting position, his eyes scanning the cove. He had never been to this place before, he thought he knew all the places on Berk; it was a small island.

The dragon. Where was it? Hiccup didn't see the creature anywhere. He didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. After all, the dragon did save his life, but are set in wiping the viking population out.

“Woah,” Hiccup breathed as his eyes landed on a scale. It was as black as night and so smooth.

The wind picked up, blowing impossibly harder. But Hiccup quickly forgot about the wind as a raindrop landed on the scale he was holding, the water bagan running down it. Hiccup looked up into the sky as more and more raindrops fell. Soon, thunder clapped and the clouds let loose, rain poring down on him. Hiccup laughed as the rain began to fall harder and faster, more violently.

The water began to put out the forest fire and the fire in the village. The nightmare was over... it was finally over. The whole ordeal lasted only 10 minutes. 10 minutes Hiccup never wanted to relive.

He looked back down at the scale. Whatever that dragon was, it had saved his life. Maybe – and that was a really small maybe – dragons weren't all bad.