For two that I hold in the highest esteem: E-Wills, and Monty Oum. I love and miss you both so much.

Disclaimer: Thank heavens I don't own HTTYD, seriously; the stories would have been so much worse with me at the helm.

Chapter 1: Loss

Stoick the Vast opened his eyes as the first tentative rays of sunlight peeped trough the shutters, heralding the unwelcome morning's arrival. Normally, he would be up and about already, tending to the never ending needs of the village, but not today. He couldn't handle his normal duties today, yet he would have to perform them and more. After all, a chief's duty is to his people first. He steeled himself to face the obligations he knew he was not ready to fulfill.

For Berk, for your fathers he repeated to himself, appending the newest addition to his mantra with a heavy heart: for Hiccup.

The house was oddly still as he dressed himself. The morning was never a busy time, but the past couple of weeks had brought a blanket of unnatural silence over his hall. No fire crackling merrily in the hearth, no welcoming smell of a warm breakfast, just a cold emptiness that leeched at the bones with much more ferocity than any winter's chill. Stoick shook his head in a vain attempt to clear the negative thoughts clouding his mind. The chill cold seemed worse today, though he supposed there was good enough reason for that. Even as a Viking, it's not every day that you have to bury one of your own.

For Berk, for your fathers, for Hiccup.

Repeating himself once more he set his jaw, and opened the door to the outside, not feeling the bitter morning air as once he might have done.

"Astrid, go! I'll hold him off, just run!" Hiccup yelled, placing himself between the angry Night Fury and Astrid.

Astrid rolled to the side and grabbed her axe, standing and ready to strike. "No way! We're both getting out of this, now move!"

Hiccup dove at her as the Night Fury lunged and narrowly missed him, knocking her to the ground. She heard a strangely muffled crack, felt a pain in the back of her head, and the world went dark.

Astrid awoke screaming into her bed. Her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as it contorted with the fears of the constant nightmares. She screwed her eyes shut and strove to calm her frantic breathing.

You are a warrior, Astrid, pull yourself together! Even in the private confines of her mind the words sounded token and hollow. She was no warrior, not anymore. What warrior couldn't sleep due to their dreams? What warrior would tear up when they looked at their weapon?

Forcing herself to sit up she heard the sounds of a village coming to life. Today of all days she had to make an effort, she had to try and hold it all in and appear strong. Gritting her teeth, she rose, and began to prepare for the day.

Astrid could smell the food that was being prepared for her as she dressed herself. It was her mother's stew, something that should bring comfort and warmth. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, whether from hunger, guilt, shame, or any of the myriad of feelings currently swimming through her mind she could not tell. Regardless of its cause, she knew that she would be unable to bring herself to eat this morning. After all, even as a Viking, it's not every day that you have to bury someone you failed to save.

She slipped past her parents and out the door as quickly and quietly as she could manage, making her way somewhat aimlessly around the village. Lost in her thoughts, she fell into the routine she had stuck to for many weeks prior, and found herself at the doors of the arena. The place was silent but for the occasional scratching sound or irritated vocalization of the scaly inhabitants. Astrid looked down at the doors of the Deadly Nightmare's cell and clenched her fist.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Astrid thought. That monster's head should be on a pike, whether by her hand or- no. Do not say his name.

Taking a few moments to breathe, she turned around and headed back towards the village. The sun was free of the horizon now; the ceremony would be starting soon.

The village of Berk was a hardy place, built to withstand anything the world could throw at it. The Hairy Hooligans had weathered many a storm, dragon attack, and winter by being as tough and stubborn as the rocks that made up their home. The typical morning would have good natured insults, various thrown objects of suspect nature, and a general feeling of camaraderie that came from fighting against your neighbor over something trivial one second, and fighting alongside them the next.

This was not one such morning, however. A somber atmosphere pervaded the island, what few people ventured out to take care of morning duties did so with slumped shoulders and downcast eyes. Most of those who could get away with staying in did so. Even as Vikings, it's not every day you have to bury the son of the Chief.

The designated hilltop was one of Hiccup's frequented spots. It was bathed in the orange glow of the dawn sun, and looked out over the harbor and out to sea. It was hardly traditional to bury someone on land in a place that was not among their fallen kin, especially with no actual remains to bury, but nobody had argued after Mildew had lost several of his few remaining teeth to Stoick's grief.

The grave marker was fairly simple as far as graves went, a small pile of rocks with a slab at the top that Gobber had spent all of his free time creating. Carved into the slab were delicate runes, immortalizing the words:

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Son of Stoick the Vast

Fallen before his time, a Hero

Astrid stood resolutely stiff as Stoick gave an emotionally charged speech about 'his boy,' and how he was stolen from the village by the cruelty of the dragon menace. Every time Stoick mentioned Hiccup's final deeds, his gaze would find Astrid and linger pointedly, and she would look away as the gnawing in her stomach returned with a vengeance. She knew that Stoick resented her for the part she played in Hic- his son's death. She deserved that resentment, and probably a whole lot more. She had failed as a warrior, returning from the woods with nothing to show for her battle with the Night Fury but a half melted axe, a concussion, and news of his death. She didn't deserve to be alive in his place.

The other members of her dragon training class stood behind Astrid with solemn looks on all of their faces, even Snotlout. Ruffnut had placed a hand on Astrid's shoulder the second she arrived at the hilltop, and hadn't let go, even after multiple, albeit feeble, attempts to shake her off. Ruffnut had been a near constant companion to Astrid the last couple weeks, insisting that it wasn't her fault, that there was nothing she could have done against a dragon of that caliber. Astrid knew Ruffnut was trying to help, and she appreciated that… didn't mean that she was right though, there is always something that could have been done differently.

The ceremony was short, followed by many of the villagers hiking up to the great hall to toast Hic- his memory and compose awful poems about him. Astrid remained on the hill a while longer, waving off Ruffnut who seemed determined to stay attached to her for the rest of their lives. Astrid watching Gobber and Stoick as they knelt at the side of the grave and shared a moment of further silence. She held herself and looked away, reminding herself that she did not deserve to be a witness to such a private moment.

Gobber stood first, gripping Stoick's shoulder before stumbling off towards the hall to partake in an unhealthy amount of mead, nodding to Astrid as he passed.

Stoick took the small toy axe that he had asked Gobber to make for Hiccup when he was young and placed it among the gravestones before standing. He took a long breath, and turned to face Astrid.

"No parent should ever have to bury their child," Stoick whispered, just loud enough so that Astrid could hear.

She flinched as though she had been slapped, the accusation veiled behind his words slamming into her chest and tearing at the wound anew. She stayed silent as Stoick left the site, the pain apparent in his features as he set about doing the duties of the chief with none of the usual energy.

Slowly making her way to the small burial mound, Astrid let the tears begin to fall. Sure, she hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to the heir, but that was before dragon training. Before he demonstrated his uncanny, infuriating talent with the beasts and moved to the top of the dragon training class. Before she'd followed him into the forest, and he had saved her life. She knelt at the site and allowed herself to weep softly.

"I'm sorry, Hi-" she choked on his name, unable to bring herself to say it. "I'm so sorry. I should have been faster. I should have been stronger. I should have…" She didn't know what she should have done. She had failed her duty as a warrior, to her chief and her tribe, and he had sacrificed himself because of her weakness.

Hiccup looked out over the ocean, the dawn light making the waves appear as molten gold. The morning air was frigid, and the sun did little to alleviate the cold, but he didn't pay the temperatures much heed.

Toothless warbled, snapping Hiccup out of his reverie, and reminding him that they should really find an island to set down on. He leaned down to pat the side of the reptile's neck, "I know, bud, we'll set down soon."

Sitting up again to scan their surroundings for any sort of land, Hiccup began to think again, a dangerous pastime. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do now. He didn't have a home anymore, not one that wanted him for the real him, so, now what?

Spotting a small island, Hiccup adjusted the pedal and began to steer Toothless towards it. "There we are. Home sweet home… for a few hours anyway."

Toothless nodded in that peculiar way that makes it seem like he understands absolutely everything, and sped off towards the small drop of land. As they flew closer, Hiccup could see a small grove of what looked like fruit-bearing plants clinging to the lump of rock for dear life. He whooped and threw his hands up into the air, a smile gracing his features for the first time in weeks.

"Hmm, silver lining, eh, Toothless?" Hiccup whispered, leaning down to give the dragon another affectionate scratch. "I bet nobody has ever tried them. I wonder what they taste like?"

Toothless slowed their descent and landed gracefully on the island, crouching down to let Hiccup clamber oh-so-gracefully off of his saddle. Hiccup immediately got his food caught in part of the harness and fell flat on his face, causing Toothless to roll onto his back and proceed to laugh uproariously.

Spitting dirt out of his mouth, Hiccup stood and grumbled "Oh yes, hilarious. Hiccup can't even walk right, can he?" He flicked his friend's nose and the ghost of a smile snuck its way onto his face for the second time that day. "Oh fine, I forgive you. But only because you'd leave me here if I didn't."

Toothless made a face that dripped sarcasm before pouncing Hiccup and giving him an enthusiastic licking.

"Kidding, kidding!" Hiccup cried out as he tried to fend off the barrage of dragon. "Argh, come on, bud, you know that's just gross. I just hope it washes out, for your sake."

Hiccup extricated himself from Toothless' playful claws only when the dragon was satisfied with just how slicked over his hair was. He brushed himself off in an attempt to remove some of the saliva, flicking a little bit at Toothless for good measure, before looking around.

The island was mostly rock, with small patches of dirt and grass here and there. Off to the side there was an outcropping with what looked to be a small cave at its base. In the outcropping's lee was the small grove of plants that bore a small, purple fruit.

"You know," Hiccup remarked to nobody in particular, "we really ought to start mapping out the things we find." He set off, dragon in tow, to make a more thorough inspection of the island.

A/N: A huge thank you to my good friend Luna1100 on Tumblr for being my beta for this. Probably wouldn't have posted it without you.

Please send any and all constructive criticism, I've no idea what I'm doing, so