Welcome one, welcome all, to my first fanfic rewritten! To old fans and new, I'm sure you'll enjoy this, or at least more than the last one...!

The last one...

*shudder*

Well, anyways..uh, let's move on! This story will be updated at least once a week IF I HAVE THE TIME! I can guarantee that at the start, it'll be faster! And, at turning points, it'll be faster! I'll try my best to keep away from hiatuses, but I'm known for always going on 'em, so sorry...

Anyways, feedback is definitely appreciated! It keeps me writing, so don't hesitate to write a review!

Anyways...into the story!

The way the vast blue sea rocks the world with it's melodic rises and crashes is interesting, in a way. The large titled arcs impact a feeling of serenity and peace, but only during calm and peaceful days. When the sky pours and roars when alight, the waves are threatening and intimidating. They wouldn't hesitate to run down anything in their path as they pound along the rocking sea surface.

It's beautiful when the soft white lines the ocean in small, stuttering lines. And how with each lap at the shore, the ocean seems to yearn for nothing more than to become frozen to the very same shore. Every day, though, it slowly pulls away. And every day, it slowly sneaks up on the shore, and before it knows, the water is upon it, eager to chat again.

But, on the days when the sea is angered, it won't bother being careful. Maybe the humans had done something to upset it that day; it wasn't exactly unlike them. Or, maybe it had gotten sick and tired of the blood being leaked into it from the deaths of it's inhabitants due to it's inhabitants. Or maybe, it just was in a bad mood. Though, whatever the matter may be, on those days, the tides would wreak havoc on the poor, unsuspecting shore that gave way to land. Land that may be shelter to the vile humans.

The humans weren't a particular favorite of many, especially dragons. And, especially on the small junk-heap-like island dubbed Berk.

It wasn't an island one would really boast about seeing. It couldn't be bigger than about 3 large, alpha-type dragons (A/N: By that, I mean Red Death or Bewilderbeasts, a name sounded awkward there).

But, the inhabitants were a different story entirely.

I mean, you see warriors everywhere. If an island with humans has no human warriors, it's pretty much doomed. Traders are needed, too. Farmers, butchers, artisans; the list could go on near endlessly. But, Berk was a surprising island. On it, the humans were unique, in a word. Gifted might be a better one.

The humans there had a talent that had been passed on from child to child, a blessing that had unfathomable potential.

They were able to manipulate the world around them. Some the liquid that blessed the earth that others could shape and meld. Others were able to summon fires that struck fear into the hearts of the most powerful chieftains and rulers. Granted, hidden fear, but fear nevertheless.

The dragons that lived nearby were commanded by a powerful queen, a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus, or for the less knowledgeable, a Red Death. There had always been one there, before the vikings had arrived on Berk. Whenever one died, there was a 2-3 month gap where dragons would come and go, using the new open space for their nests, their families, their own 'packs', so to say, and their own food. Of course, it wouldn't take long for another queen to hatch or show up to claim the space, taking the dragons residing there along with it. They would be commanded to bring food, and food fast. The only other option was instant death, which was better than slowly dying while stabbed by a single tooth as the queen chomped as slow as her attention span would allow, the optimist or queen supporter might point out.

So, it wasn't a huge surprise that when the vikings showed up, the dragons instantly started using them as a food source. Whether it be the humans themselves or their food depended on the time of year, the hunger of their queen, and the danger in which the dragons faced.

But, vikings, being the stubborn and resilient group they were seemed to simply laugh or scoff at the dragons, much to their disadvantage. After all, vikings were still vikings. Whoever thought some giant, 20 foot tall beasts with scales, fire, and wings would scare them off knew nothing!

After centuries of dragon against man, and man against dragon, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was born. He was born early, therefore smaller than the average viking newborn, hence the name. However, despite this, his parents believed that he would become the strongest in their village, or even better, the strongest viking of all.

In honesty, his father really thought that himself. Valka, his mother, knew that she would be proud of him no matter how he turned out. She'd prefer if he was more peaceful and kind, especially towards dragons, though. Valka thought that dragons weren't the vile and cruel creatures that they had made them out to be. She thought that, if given a chance, they could be loving creatures, even possible allies.

Hiccup's mother had always thought that they might be forced to steal and kill, but she hadn't any proof. Without any proof, all she could do was stand in front of a human every now and then to shield a dragon from an attack, and if she was lucky, she'd catch the fighter by surprise and the dragon would fly off in the gap of time. Of course, it began to anger the townspeople after a few months, and they started to ignore her, pushing past. They all did, except for Stoick, Hiccup's father. He would never dare to push her or possibly hurt her, it was much too risky.

One day, though, he got angry and yelled, fed up with it. Valka stormed off and then saw a dragon inside her home, where Hiccup, a baby was. She ran inside, shocked when she stopped and found that the dragon was merely playing with her child. Valka didn't know what to say. She simply froze, the thought that everything she had believed was true running over and over again in her mind. It was a Stormcutter, a dragon breed that wasn't particularly common. She knew that this breed, or maybe even this particular dragon was rarely ever seen, and when it was, the dragon was always peaceful. If it steal, it'd be nothing more than a fish, let alone killing a human. She simply watched as the dragon rocked her child's cradle back and forth gently, with all the care in the world. Her child grabbed at it's talon, and the dragon seemed to smile, pulling it's talon back every time the human grabbed for it.

It went on like this, the room seemingly oblivious to the death and destruction outside. That was until a certain viking, the father, burst in. He screamed, leaping towards the dragon with his axe. The dragon yelped, pulling it's talon away and scratching the child by accident. As it's head whipped around, Valka and the Stormcutter's eyes met, and for a split second, time seemed to freeze for everyone but the two. It's large and anything-but-evil eyes stared at her curiously and thoughtfully, before it's pupils dilated into fearful slits, an axe nearly beheading it. It spewed fire, a concentrated line that instantly lit their destroyed house. It was driven by fear as it returned to staring at Valka, and before they knew it, Valka was being carried off in the talons of the dragon, screaming Stoick's name. He softly replied, sadly giving up, and called her name once, clutching a screaming child in his arms.

~.~.~

Hiccup grew up with many expectations on his shoulders. To be a ruthless, intimdating beast of a man, to be able to create a devastating fire with a flick of a bored finger, like his father. He was instantly put into a fire training class, as his father expected him to be so. His mother was an earth, but Stoick was confident that he'd be able to summon and control might flames that could rival- no, that could usurp that of even the mightiest of dragons, or even a legendary night fury! Of course, Stoick wasn't entirely sure the night fury was real, though, as no one saw it, save for a tower suddenly destroyed by a purple explosion, or a house suddenly wiped off the map. Everytime they got close, maybe cornered what they thought was it, it would seemingly disappear.

But, no matter how many classes he took, no matter how many nights he stayed up, trying and trying to summon even a kindling, there never was. Stoick could recall that sometimes, when he was angry and Hiccup was, too, something might fall over, or a door might suddenly slam shut or violently open, or maybe the trees around them would shake out of the blue. He didn't pay much mind to this, though, but he supposed that it could be a sign of Hiccup being an earthbender?

After many failed attempts, Stoick pretty much gave up altogether. Hiccup should have already summoned fire by now, and any other element for that matter; so why couldn't he? Or the real question:

Why didn't he?

~.~.~

Hiccup could only watch as his former friends (albiet, only Fishlegs and Astrid used to be his friends) came to leave him as they got their powers. Astrid was a waterbender, and Fishlegs was an earth. Ruffnut was water, and Tuffnut was fire (very fitting, as one often stopped the other), and Snotlout was fire.

But, what was Hiccup, then? It didn't take long for the other children to swoop on him and start picking on him, and then attacking him, and it didn't take long after that for some of the adults to as well.

'Why?' That was what he asked himself everyday. Why him? Why did he, after centuries of everyone having powers, not have them? He had thought that he was just a little late to get them, as well as everyone and his especially confident father had thought. But, when he turned 14 and was still without an element, Stoick simply gave up. Or at least, that was what the village thought. Deep down inside, he'd never give up on Hiccup, but that was hidden. He was a viking, after all.

When he turned 14, Stoick offered him as an apprentice, an assistant of sorts to his best friend and the village's greatest and only professional blacksmith- Gobber. He gladly took up the offer, having always been a friend to Hiccup. Over the years, Hiccup grew skilled in the craft, and ran the shop on his own when Gobber left to fight, or when he was sick, or on a trip. Of course, his former friends would drop off their own weapons and most wouldn't hesitate to snatch up the opportunity to tease him in the process, Snotlout in particular. He usually brought in more weapons than he really needed, just to use that time to pick on his now uncaring cousin. Hiccup didn't mind the insults anymore, but rather the times when he'd scare him with a sudden burst of fire, or maybe make a small spark on the back of his vest when Hiccup got near the forge, and blame it on so in front of any adult who questioned him. Snotlout envied him, knowing that one day he'd be chief.

When Hiccup turned 16, the fighting was as same as always. Gobber would always leave, and Hiccup would always plead with him to go be able to fight. Gobber would playfully tease him before swinging over the counter, his amputated arm flashing a built in sword, or pat his messy brown hair and push open the small door flap that was a break in the counters. Hiccup would sigh before continuing his unfinished work. Often distracted by the squeals of the dragons he longed to capture, or the splashing and sizzling of water against a monstrous nightmare that had covered itself in flames.

It was one faithful night when Hiccup opened the door to his house, only to find that it was being scorched. He quickly pulled himself backwards, the door along with him. He wasn't able to tell whether it was a dragon or a human, but nor did he care, as he heard the sizzling and cracking of his door stop. He sped out of the door, nearly forgetting to close it, and dangerously leaping down the jutting planks that made the path to his house, weapons in a small bag tied to his back. It seemed like any other day as he arrived at Gobber's workshop.

"Took ya long enough," Gobber hollered over a scraping sound, not even bothering to look up from the sword he was sharpening.

"Yeah, well, it's not everyday the dragons see such a muscular, intimidating guy. I'm sure they'd all want to eat...this," Hiccup replied, sarcasm dripping from his words as he laid down the back and spread the weapons out on the counter.

"Well, 'ey'd use ya as a toothpick, that's for sure," Gobber spoke, focused on his work. "I assume ya finished those weapons?"

"Oh, the reinforced ones?" Hiccup asked, still spreading them out. Gobber had let him work on some weapons overnight because recently, weapons had been breaking or burning due to the power coming from the humans. This time, they should have been fire resistant and even stronger; no water was going to rust or break the head off of these! They had to cool overnight, and there was not enough space in the smithing area, so he allowed Hiccup to take them home.

"There they are, Gobber," he stared at his handiwork. He had added a few runes for flare, and a couple symbols of dragons and such. "Hopefully they'll all find their respective owners.." He said loudly, having spotted a young child named Gustav creeping up. The child stopped before scooting away and then breaking into a sloppy run. He smiled.

The sound produced from Gobber sharpening the sword came to a stop as he tossed the lethal blade into a crate of dangerous looking weapons.

"'Right, Hiccup, watch the shop for me, will ya?" It wasn't really a question, but more of a command as he pushed the door open with his pegleg, hobbling off and yelling.

Hiccup was still watching him set off curiously as a slippery axe was shoved into his hands. He looked up, yet he already knew he it was. It was Astrid. He could tell she wanted it sharpened, as well, and as he carefully heightened the axe's kill rate, he thought for a moment. Astrid was the only one who wouldn't necessarily pick on him, other than Fishlegs. But just the looks and the silence was enough to tell him that she didn't really like him. Knowing her, he had already assumed it was out of respect. Not respect for him, but because he was the chief's son. Maybe she considered it below her to do such things. What he did know was that Astrid's axe was always the sharpest and most durable of the one's he sharped. It was a good axe, and a good axe deserved to be treated as such, right? He had never thought about it before, but now he realized there could have been another reason.

When her axe was finished, he set it on the counter next to a bored looking warrior who was messing with a ball of water in her hand, tossing it in a circle as it didn't splatter the moment it touched her palm. It could have been because it never did, but she snatched her axe and calmly strode off, her weapon dangerously flashing. He could practically imagine it dripping with blood and the look on her face as it did so. Satisfaction.

Oh, how Hiccup longed to go out and fight like the others. As he thought about this, while weapons were sharpened and made and repaired, he wished that he could use elements and wasn't so 'helpless'. Other humans with normal lives fought dragons with no powers, and guess what? They survived? So then, why couldn't Hiccup? Well, he wasn't the best fighter, but without their powers, he bet that the others wouldn't be so great! Maybe he'd even be the strongest, since all he did use was weapons?

Once business calmed down a bit, he ran out, seeing his chance. Water droplets clung to his vest before sinking into the fur, and dust from earth being pulled from the ground gave his jacket a muddy appearance. It didn't help when it dried, thanks to fire benders 'mistaking him for a wooden post'.

He was running, only armed with a feeble dagger, when he nearly crashed into Snotlout, who, at the moment, was burning a house that apparently had a dragon captured inside. He was yelling about it being a night fury, so if it escaped you couldn't see it, but Hiccup had a feeling it was a couple of terrors or maybe a nadder if he was extra lucky.

Snoutlout groaned. "You again, useless? Whaddaya want?" Snoutlout sneered for a moment, obviously having thought of something. "Did you come to stare the night fury into nonexistence? Or, rather," Snotlout grabbed Hiccup's vest, yanking it a couple of times before his dagger fell out. Hiccup yelped, the flames lapping at his dagger as Snotlout used them to grab the dagger and bring it to him, rather than taking literally 2 seconds to bend down and pick it up, "are you going to use your knife that can't even cut a baby's meal?" Snotlout asked, making a baby face and puffing his lips out. Hiccup had the urge to punch him, as he always did, but thought better of it. He couldn't help a small smile, though, as the flames died out when Snotlout lost focus. Snotlout stopped staring at him, turned his head to the house, and his jaw fell. "How..how dare you?" he screamed, his voice reaching what Hiccup thought was a new high. The moment before Hiccup wiped the smile off of his face, Snotlout saw it. Anger was definetly prexsent as a fire began to live on his fists. A wagon flew out of seemingly nowhere, nearly crushing them, but a jagged piece of rock and dirt jutted out of the earth and caught it, crushing the wagon. He didn't have to look to know it was Fishlegs, and where Fishlegs was, the twins and Astrid were.

Hiccup didn't see the dragons that left the house, but he could guess they weren't night furies. When all the dragons left, and it seemed the fight was over, vikings crowded around to see what was happening. Snotlout stared down at Hiccup, who he had dropped, and Hiccup simply sat, propping himself up with his hands behind his back.

It didn't take long for Stoick to show up, pushing vikings out of the way to see.

"What's going on 'ere?" He spoke slowly, much louder than needed. He made his way over to Snotlout, and saw the home. "What happened to the house o'er there?"

"Well, cheif," Snotlout started, clearly sucking up to Stoick, "I was minding my own business, walking past, when I sa-"

"The version that doesn't take hours, boy!" Snotlout growled before continuing.

"There were dragons in that house, and I was burning it to capture them, and I almost had done it before Hic-"

"What kind of dragons?" Stoick interrupted again, quieter and calmer.

"Er..night furies, sir."

Gasps flowed throughout the crowd. They'd take the word of Snotlout, for sure, he was an amazing young warrior, as strong as their own. Because that was what mattered. Of course, Astrid was skeptical, but she didn't say anything.

"Night furies, eh?"

"Yes. As I was saying, I was almost done, when Hiccup here showed up," He glanced down at Hiccup. "He interrupted, wanting to show me his dagger, and I, of course, not wanting to turn him down and hurt his pride, looked. But, when I looked back, the dragons were gone, and Hiccup..Hiccup was smiling, as if he had done it on purpose!" Again, gasps could be heard out of the crowd, and Stoick stared down at Hiccup.

"Really? Well then...get going, everyone. As for you, Hiccup...I'm very disappointed."

Hiccup's heart sank. With a sneer meant for only Hiccup's eyes, Snotlout walked off, the others following.

"But..but I didn't, you have to be-"

Stoick held a hand out to Hiccup. "I don't want to hear it." He growled, walking off as well. "There have been too many of these accidents recently. Maybe, if you tried harder, you could make an itsy bitsy flame!"

"But dad, maybe I'm not a firebender! I can jump high, higher than anyone else, and I'm fast so maybe I'm a ea-"

"No, Hiccup. That doesn't sound like an earthbender. What, can you magically move yourself ? Move the air around you? Last time I checked, that wasn't an element."

Fishlegs looked like he was dying to stay something, but thought better of it, following the others after he had stopped to stare a bit.

Hiccup frowned, left alone in the pile of steaming rubble, his heart in his stomach.

~.~.~

Hiccup angrily stormed off into the forest, breaking branches as he stomped. "Stupid Snotlout," he muttered. What was Snotlout's problem? Couldn't he just leave him alone for once? Hiccup couldn't shake off the feeling he was being watched. He always had that feeling, but it was especially strong in the woods and when he was alone. He whipped around, but saw nothing but his own footprints, plants, and darkness.

How did his dad know? According to everything, air was a part of the world, so it was an element! There were people who could bend metal, and summon lightning; why couldn't air be something he could do?

Hiccup knew that that was a far off hope, but it was all he had. He did jump high when he was afraid, and he did get really fast...but, didn't everyone? And, there were times when it would seem like a sudden breeze would shake the trees or the houses when he was mad, but wind was common.

He yelped when a branch smacked him in the face. He stopped to rub his aching eyes.

When he opened them again, he stopped once more to rub them, then froze.

A mass of jet black scales was lying on it's side, blood seeping from a missing tailfin.

Aaand that's the end of chapter one! I was so excited, it took me a day~

Again, lemme know what you think! Feedback is the thing that keeps me going!

Next time on No-Bender: What will Hiccup make of this dragon? Will he kill it, like he is expected to? Or, rather, befriend it? And, does he really bend nothing? What was Fishlegs thinking? And...what is watching him?

So many questions..such little time...find out in the next chapter of No-Bender!