Chapter 1: Honor and Respect

Hiccup couldn't believe his eyes. Right there, only a few yards away from him, was the Night Fury! Its black limbs and wings were tangled in the bolas Hiccup had fired that morning, and the location of the impact crater matched the area where he saw the dragon crash with a loud shriek earlier.

There was no doubt about it. Hiccup had done it. He was the first Viking to have ever seen a Night Fury, and he was the first to bring it down.

And yet, even though his triumph was evident, Hiccup was terrified. He grabbed his knife from one of his pockets, and climbed down the hill as silently as he could. He took cover behind a large boulder next to the dragon, and carefully peeked around it.

The dragon wasn't moving. It lay perfectly still, and made no sound. Hiccup was sure that it was dead. The tension left him, as relief took its place. His mind was racing at a million miles per second as he considered the implications of what had happened. He had killed a dragon. He had killed a dragon before any of the other teenagers had. He had killed a Night Fury! The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself! He would finally be respected now. His father wouldn't have to be ashamed of him anymore. He would go down in history as a great warrior, the first one to slay the horrible Night Fury.

He might even get a date with Astrid!

"Oh wow. I did it. I actually did it!" he said out loud, as he came out of his hiding place. "This... This fixes everything!" he said as he walked towards the still dragon and placed his foot on its neck in a victory pose, like he had once seen his father do with a Monstrous Nightmare. "I have brought down this mighty beast..."

And then it woke up. It started screaming and thrashing, and the ecstasy Hiccup was feeling was replaced once again with utter terror. He jumped back and fell against the rock, his left hand pointing the puny dagger towards the dragon. It was only then that he realized that the dragon was still trapped in the bolas and ropes, and couldn't actually hurt him. And yet, this didn't really reassure him.

Hiccup slowly stood up and inched towards the dragon, dagger at the ready. The dragon had stopped thrashing, but it was now softly moaning. Hiccup looked at it, and as he stared at the head, its eyes opened.

The eyes were very different from what Hiccup had expected to see. He had expected evil looking red eyes, like fire. Or bright blue eyes narrowed in fury, like Astrid's eyes when he dropped her axe. Or even brown eyes filled with disappointment, like his father's every time he looked at Hiccup, because even the dragon would know what a mistake Hiccup was.

But these eyes had a calm green color, and they were wide open. And Hiccup didn't see any anger, or disappointment, or some primal killing stare. He saw only fear, and worry, and pain. But Hiccup couldn't let this dissuade him. If it isn't dead yet, then he would just kill it right now. He took a deep breath, and readied himself.

"I'm gonna kill you, dragon," he said, more to himself than to the dragon. "I'm going to cut out your heart and take it to my father."

He raised the dagger above his head, trying to ignore the moans and the sad looks the dragon produced. "I'm a Viking. I'm a Viking!"He screamed the last part at the dragon, hoping that it would be true if he would only say it loud enough.

Hiccup closed his eyes, and prepared himself to plunge the knife into the dragon. Another moan from the dragon made him open his eyes, and he once again saw the look the dragon was giving him. That look of fear and pain. The offspring of lightning and death seemed to be begging him, tiny weak Hiccup, to help it. Hiccup was frozen in confusion at this unexpected behavior, and the dragon laid down its head, seemingly resigned to its fate. Hiccup raised the knife once again, and closed his eyes. He tried desperately not to think of the fear he had seen, the fear that seemed to mirror his own. He tried once again to gather the courage to plunge the knife into its heart, but he couldn't.

Hiccup dropped the knife and opened his eyes. The realization hit him: He couldn't kill a dragon. He couldn't even kill a dragon when it was defenseless in front of him. He wouldn't come back to the village with the heart of a Night Fury, and he would never be the hero he had fantasized about for those few incredible moments. He would remain Hiccup the Useless, instead of Hiccup the Dragonslayer. He started to walk back to the village, feeling weaker than he had ever felt before, but after a few steps a moan from the dragon got his attention. He looked at the dragon, still trapped in the bolas he had fired.

"I did this," Hiccup softly said. He was responsible for the pain and fear the dragon was going through. If he left it here, the dragon would surely die of starvation or from the wounds it sustained in the crash. It would be even worse than the quick kill with the knife.

And with that thought, Hiccup considered his options. He could get someone else from the village to kill the dragon for him, or he could leave it there and come back in a week when it would surely be dead. But he realized that he didn't want this dragon to die. It didn't deserve to die. And if it shouldn't die, it should live. And for that, it needed to be freed from the ropes.

And so, Hiccup made a decision. He grabbed his knife from the ground, and started to cut through the ropes restraining the dragon. The dragon made a surprised sound, but stayed still. But as Hiccup cut through the last rope, the dragon suddenly lunged and pinned Hiccup to the boulder.

Hiccup had never been so afraid. He looked straight into the eyes of the dragon, and the fear there was gone. The murderous look he had expected to see earlier was staring him in the face. "Well, this is how I die," Hiccup managed to think in this moment of terror. "By a dragon I could have killed, but that I freed because I'm a coward."

He breathed heavily, and moved his head as far back as he could. The dragon opened its jaws, showing rows of sharp teeth. Hiccup was sure those would bite him in half any moment now. The dragon then roared loudly at him, and Hiccup closed his eyes, waiting for death.

But death never came. The claw on his chest disappeared, and the dragon ran off deeper into the forest. As Hiccup opened his eyes, he saw it trying to take off, but slam into a rock. It continued to move further into the forest, until it disappeared into the fog.

Hiccup's mind was reeling, as he started to realize that he was actually still alive. He got up and tried to run to the village. But before he had made two steps, his brain seemed to overload with thoughts about all that had happened during the past few minutes. With a moan, Hiccup fell face first into the soft grass.

Astrid was exhausted, but she refused to let that affect her as she kept slamming her axe into the pile of debris. A true warrior doesn't need sleep. She had been woken in the middle of the night because of the dragon raid. She and the other teenagers had recently become part of the fire brigade, responsible for putting out fires the dragons caused. Everyone kept telling her how important the fire brigade was, and that nearly every great warrior in Berk had been part of the fire brigade before they started dragon training. But Astrid didn't like it. She wanted to fight dragons. There was no glory to be had fighting fires, no songs would be sung about saving crates filled with cloth or food, no statues build of Vikings wielding buckets instead of axes.

Astrid had been training to fight dragons, not to fight fires. She felt that she needed to restore honor to the Hofferson name, after Uncle Finn had been branded a coward after he was frozen in fear facing the Flightmare years ago. Yet for all the hours she trained by herself every day in the forest, she had yet to make a name for herself. While the other teens seemed to be impressed by her skill, the adults barely knew who she was.

This morning, after the raid was over, Chief Stoick had started organizing the people into different crews to "clean up my son's mess," as he put it. He had looked at her, and just said "You. You fix those stairs Hiccup broke."

It had hurt, to realize that the chief seemed to have no idea who she was, or that she was worthy of more honorable tasks than carpentry! Even the twins were more notorious than her, but that was mostly due to the destruction they caused. But she couldn't stand up to the chief, so that was how she had spent her day, fixing a wooden ramp that had been destroyed by a falling brazier. As she was cutting the ruined wood into pieces with her axe, she considered what had happened the night before.

Astrid had woken up to the sounds of horns being blown, the signal for a dragon attack. She had immediately put her armor on, and grabbed her axe, even though she wasn't allowed to use it. Her mother had made her promise that she would help the fire brigade, and to not engage dragons unless she absolutely had to. Astrid had spent the rest of the night putting out fires and trying to prevent the twins from starting more fires. She also had to content with Fishlegs trying to put statistics to every fire they put out, and she tried desperately to ignore Snotlout repeatedly hitting on her.

But just when she thought the raid was nearly over, Hiccup's scream had alerted the village to more incoming destruction. Many of the villagers, including Astrid and the rest of the teens, had made their way to the village square, where Stoick was fighting off the Nightmare chasing Hiccup. But as the Nightmare retreated, a brazier had collapsed, the burning bowl rolling down the hill, destroying everything it touched. Hiccup was standing in the center, looking like he wished he could just disappear.

As his father started to reprimand him, Hiccup surprised her by offering explanations that he just "had to kill dragons." While Astrid was no stranger to the desire to kill dragons, Hiccup was just... not the dragon killing type. She had not seen him in action much, but his reputation preceded him. Her father always complained about the damage Hiccup would do to the village with his 'crazy machines and idiotic contraptions'. She had talked to him a few time when she came to the forge, and he had always seemed terrified of everything, stuttering and dropping things. She couldn't imagine how he could forge weapons with those shaking hands, let alone wield them. He had certainly not seemed the type to seek out danger by facing dragons by himself.

It was no surprise then that disaster followed every time he tried. While Astrid had missed most of what had happened that night with the Monstrous Nightmare, she could trace the path of destruction. It seemed that Hiccup had encountered the Nightmare near the catapult tower, and had run towards the village square. The dragon had followed him, destroying everything in its path. Hiccup had probably taken cover behind the brazier, which was then burned down. Stoick had to step in and beat the Nightmare, while Hiccup could only cower.

While she was annoyed at the destruction around her, she found it hard to truly blame Hiccup. He hadn't destroyed those houses, the dragon had done that. The Nightmare had burned down the brazier, not Hiccup. Hiccup's only fault was that he had lured the dragon towards the village, but was that such a strange course of action? Even she would have had second thoughts if she had encountered a Monstrous Nightmare. Of course, Hiccup shouldn't have been outside, but could she really blame him for having the same desire to kill dragons as she had?

Maybe he was as desperate for glory and respect as she was. After all, he was to be the future chief, and yet he didn't even get to join the fire brigade. She couldn't deny that Hiccup was the laughing stock of the village. She had seen it herself last night. After Hiccup had been publicly scolded by the chief himself, the other teens had started to make fun of him as well. Tuffnut and Snotlout had even 'complimented' him on the record-breaking amount of damage he had caused this time. Hiccup hadn't seemed all that affected by it, though. He had shrugged it all off with his trademark sarcasm, and had simply followed Gobber back to his house.

But as much as she sympathized with Hiccup, Astrid couldn't help but feel a little bit triumphant at the fact that she had never caused that much damage to the village. Maybe being notorious isn't always a good thing.

As the sun was setting, and the ramp was nearly rebuild, she was finally dismissed and free to go home. She would never admit it, but she couldn't wait to lie down and sleep. She walked to her house, and was greeted with an odd sight as she entered. Dinner was already on the table, while normally they didn't eat until an hour after sundown. There were also a few heavily packed bags on the floor next to the door.

"Sit," her father, Tolfdir, commanded. As always, she obeyed him, and eagerly started to eat her mutton.

"Why are we eating so early?" Astrid asked as her mother, Kirsten, sat down at the table as well.

"The chief called an assembly today. There will be another expedition to find the dragons' nest. Your mother and I will be joining them. We will be leaving this evening," Tolfdir explained.

"Oh. So I will be alone here?" Astrid asked. Her parents had been on expeditions before, but never together. Still, it would not make much of a difference. Astrid spent most of her days training by herself in the forest, and she could eat in the Great Hall.

"Yes, but you will have a busy schedule. We have decided that you will be joining the new dragon training class. Gobber will start training you and your friends in the morning," Kirsten said.

Astrid dropped her spoon filled with mutton, and suddenly didn't feel tired anymore. "Dragon training?" She nearly screamed.

Her father laughed at her enthusiasm. "That's right. You are more than ready to face real dragons instead of the trees you kill every day".

"Also, I think it would give you the opportunity to spend more time with the other children. You never seem to play with them," Her mother said.

Astrid was annoyed at that. "But they're stupid. None off them take dragon killing serious. They're focused on having fun, instead of preparing for the war! I don't need their friendship!" She said, as she tried to stab the mutton with her spoon.

Her mother's face fell at that, but she said nothing. Her father used his 'trainer' tone, the voice he used when he explained to Astrid how to throw an axe or make a somersault. "Astrid, you can't face a dragon raid alone. You can perfect your technique all you want, but in the heat of battle you have to rely on your fellow soldiers. You need to work together to survive and win. And I'm sure they'll also take dragon killing more serious after training."

Astrid couldn't argue with that. Her father said it was so, and she wouldn't contradict her father. Then she got another thought: "I'll get to kill the Nightmare! I'm sure of it, none of the other kids are good enough to win dragon training. Then I'll be the first to kill a dragon!" She exclaimed with glee. Her father seemed proud at that, but her mother's expression was strange. Astrid seemed to see sadness, or disappointment in her face. She didn't understand it. Why would her mother be sad about her winning the honor of killing her first dragon?

They finished the rest of their dinner in silence. Astrid was filled with energy, and Tolfdir was happy and proud. Yet Kirsten seemed tired and sad. Soon enough, dinner was over, and Astrid's parents had to leave. They stood awkwardly, none of them very good with showing their feelings. Feelings are weaknesses, her father always said.

Eventually Tolfdir said "Promise me you'll train hard."

"And promise me you won't maim your classmates in frustration," Kirsten said, with a smile that somehow seemed forced.

"Of course. And I promise that when you come back you'll see me kill the Monstrous Nightmare!" Astrid said.

And with that, her parents picked up their bags and left the house. Suddenly, all the energy that had overtaken Astrid seemed to dissipate and she felt exhausted once again. She went to her bedroom. As she was putting her shoulder pads away, she briefly wondered if Hiccup would be part of the dragon training class as well.

When Hiccup woke up, he didn't understand why he was lying in the grass. Why would he be sleeping outside? He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and looked around. When he saw dragon footprints and cut up bolas, it all came flooding back. He, puny Hiccup, had managed to take down a Night Fury. And he wasn't able to kill it. He had freed it, and the dragon had attacked him. And yet, it hadn't killed him. "Why not?" Hiccup pondered. Was it not hungry? Was it some form of gratitude for freeing the dragon from the ropes? Was Hiccup so tiny he was simply not perceived as a threat?

Hiccup sighed. It was probably that last thing. The dragon had realized the uselessness of Hiccup as well, and had let him go with a stern warning, since eating him would have been too much effort.

Hiccup noticed that the sun was setting, and made his way back to the village. As he was walking, he thought about the implications of his cowardice. He had to face the facts: He can't kill dragons. That means he could never be a warrior. Which means not joining dragon training.

On the one hand, Hiccup was relieved at the possibility of not having to face live dragons. With his track record, that would probably not end well. On the other hand, the shame would be great. A chief has to lead his people during both peace and war. A chief must be a warrior. A man who can't kill his greatest enemy is no chief. The chiefdom would go to a more worthy Viking, like Astrid or Snotlout.

And even if he gave up the chiefdom, he would never have status if he didn't fight. On Berk, everyone fights dragons if necessary. Even Gobber, who was an invaluable blacksmith and who had already lost two limbs in battle, would join the fight if he was needed. If Hiccup would ever refuse that call, he might as well be exiled.

Not to mention his chances of getting a girlfriend would go from 'slim' to 'nonexistent'.

As Hiccup caught sight of the village, his foot got stuck in a tree root. Hiccup fell down hard, and it felt like the gods were simply rubbing it in, making sure he got the message: Hiccup would never be a great Viking. Hel, he would never be a Viking, period, if he didn't go through dragon training. He might be able to make a living doing odd jobs or by assisting in the forge, but he would never truly be part of the village.

And yet, Hiccup didn't feel as sad about it as he figured he should. Maybe his subconscious had already accepted it long ago. The events of today had only confirmed it. He had already been living as a pariah for years, so what difference would it make?

As he reached his house, he silently opened the door. He knew he would have to speak to his father about this eventually, but he really wanted to think on it a little longer. And he really didn't want to see how disappointed his dad would be. Even for Hiccup, refusing dragon training would be a new low.

As Hiccup entered the house as quietly as he could, he saw his father sitting by the fire. Hiccup hoped he could simply sneak upstairs and delay the conversation that would spell the end of any respect and hope for Hiccup that Stoick might have left.

Of course, it's never that simple.

He was already halfway up the stairs when his father let him know he was spotted. A simple "Hiccup," destroyed any hope he had of delaying this conversation.

"Dad!" he said, as he tried to think how to tell his father.

"I... I have to talk to you," Hiccup eventually decided to say, wondering how to phrase this to minimize his chances of immediate exile.

"I need to speak to you too, son," Stoick said. Hiccup was confused by this. Why would his father want to talk to him? Would he get punished for the disastrous adventure with the Monstrous Nightmare last night?

"I decided I don't want to fight dragons," Hiccup said. However Stoick decided to speak at that very moment as well, and neither had heard what the other had said.

"You go first," his father said after a moment of confusion. Hiccup really didn't want to go first. He wanted to delay this for as long as he could, and maybe he wouldn't get exiled if he had already received punishment, albeit for a different crime.

So Hiccup tried to be as persuasive as possible as he said "No, you go first."

It worked, and his father started talking. "Alright, you got your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning".

"Dragoncrap," Hiccup thought, as he realized that that was about the worst thing Stoick could have said to him. Why couldn't he just have been punished, instead of this 'reward'?

"Well, this is it," Hiccup thought. "Moment of truth."

Because he was standing halfway on the stairs, Hiccup was actually looking down slightly at Stoick, and yet he had never felt so small. "Oh man, I should have gone first. Because... You know... I was thinking. We have a surplus of dragon fighting Vikings. But do we have enough... bread making Vikings? Or small-home-repair Vikings..."

"You'll need this," His father interrupted him by giving him a heavy axe. Because he hadn't expected the extra weight, Hiccup stumbled down the steps, and was now looking up at Stoick, as usual. Stoick gave no indication that he had even heard what Hiccup had said.

Hiccup felt even smaller than before.

"I don't want to fight dragons!" he exclaimed, hoping the blunt approach would work.

And then his father did something he hadn't expected: He laughed. "Oh, come on, yes you do!"

This would be even harder than he had anticipated. "Rephrase: Dad. I can't kill dragons."

"But you will kill dragons," Stoick said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't," Hiccup said, as he tried not to drop the axe.

His father walked up to him. "It's time, Hiccup."

Hiccup had expected many things. He had expected shouting, rage, disappointment. He had expected that his father would be furious after he had listened to Hiccup's words. But he had not expected that his father would simply not listen to him at all.

"Can you not hear me?" Hiccup exclaimed in desperation.

"This is serious, son," Stoick said, now with a hint of anger in his tone. He grabbed the axe out of Hiccup's hands, and held it effortlessly with one hand. "When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you."

"Hmm, maybe that explains why the axe is so heavy," Hiccup couldn't help but think as Stoick gave him the axe back. He almost dropped it again.

"That means you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us," Stoick said as he tried to move Hiccup's body into a more impressive pose. "No more... this!" Stoick said, vaguely gesturing towards Hiccup.

Hiccup sighed. Well there's nothing new there. "You just gestured to all of me," he said hoping that, for once, some of his words would actually reach his father's brain.

Of course that was too much to hope for, as all his father said was "Deal?".

It didn't feel like a deal. More like an ultimatum. "This conversation is feeling very one-sided," Hiccup said, hoping he might be able to salvage something out of this.

But he was interrupted by another "Deal?" from Stoick.

That was when Hiccup realized it was hopeless. "Deal," he sighed. He supposed he would just have to give dragon training his best shot, and maybe Stoick would pull him out after he had inevitably set the arena on fire.

Stoick seemed a little surprised that Hiccup had actually agreed. He quickly recovered, though, and just said "Good. Train hard. I'll be back. Probably."

Gee, his father wouldn't even be there to see him fail. Hiccup figured he would probably have been eaten by a Gronckle by the time the expedition would return. So he just said "And I'll be here. Maybe," as his father walked away and left the house.

After Stoick had slammed the door shut, in more ways than one, Hiccup decided to go to bed. He was exhausted from all the events of that day. But as he was trying to fall asleep, he couldn't stop thinking about the conversation. It was probably one of the longest conversation Hiccup had had with his father in years, and yet, Stoick hadn't seemed to have heard a word Hiccup had said.

Hiccup had been ready for anger, and for disappointment. But he hadn't expected that his father didn't respect him enough... to believe him. To consider his words valuable enough to listen to. Stoick had thought he was just joking, while Hiccup had never been so serious.

Hiccup's last thoughts before falling asleep were spent wondering if he and Stoick would ever see eye-to-eye with each other. Probably not, Hiccup figured, and then a final thought struck: That Night Fury he met in the forest had actually taken him more seriously than Stoick had. The dragon had actually copied his behavior: Hiccup had freed the dragon, and the dragon had let Hiccup go. But what did it say about him that he seemed to be more in sync with a dragon than with his own father?

Author's Notes:

Hey everyone, I'm Wolfie, and this is my first story. The story is still very close to the movie at this point, but next chapter things will start to get more interesting. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews would be much appreciated! Thanks for reading!