This story was originally owned by TheGirlWithTheDragonSoul. I adopted the story with permission on 1/12/17. Thank you.

Title: The Mother of All Dragons

Rating: T

Summary: Hiccup was born the heiress of the island of Berk, much to the disappointment to her village and father. She wasn't born to become a Viking who slayed dragons. No, she was small, to weak, and to curious. Now, she's a peace-making girl as she begins to realize her inherited love for Dragons. She's learning more about dragons and herself then she ever had before.

Disclaimer: I do not own How to Train Your Dragon or anything related to HTYD. All rights belong to their rightful owners.

Warnings: arranged marriages, genderbend, AU, social abuse, family tragedy, bloodshed, death, harsh training, repressed memories, daily life, alter-ego, coming of age, ancient civilization, acrobatics, childhood trauma/crushes, identity search, tournament, character growth, mentions of self-harm.

This story is spaced out between both movies and the TV series.

There has also been a slight change in the Berk's cheifing style. The chief can only be of chief-blood (royal blood), much like a monarchy, this makes Hiccup the only heir to the throne so to speak.

Chapter One

Have you ever died?

I sure have. And I will remember it for the rest of my life.

Half of my body felt numb while the rest just screamed in agony, begging for relieve that would never come. A sharp, burning sensation tearing from my leg, the only thing I could fully focus on. The pain was exhausting; it took a bigger toll on me then trying to stay awake.

I remember taking a breath only to inhale a puff of smoke and flames. My throat burned, my lungs felt ready to burst.

Never once have I longed so badly for my stiff bed and hearing the carving of wood from downstairs as my father mumbled about affairs and the village. How much I would miss seeing my friends' face and the praise my mentor would give me.

I never realized how much I truly had until I lost it.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

The story, my life, that changed everything we knew about the world.

If you were to sail thirty days north of Hopelessness and a few degrees south of freezing to death, dozens of days from any civilization, you would discover the small island of Berk-my home, home of the world's smallest Viking population- located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

I know what you're thinking: Gee… This girl is depressing…

Just wait, you haven't heard anything yet.

Just let me tell you a little bit about my village, my home. Because trust me, if you lived here and lived in my shoes, you wouldn't think very positive about this place either.

Out village isn't impressive by any means. Nothing to look at. Nothing at all. But my village is, in a word: sturdy. It's been standing here for almost eleven generations, but every single building is brand new on this gigantic mound of rock.

There's a lot to enjoy on Berk: we have fishing, hunting, wonderful sights of the seas from every corner and a charming view of the sunsets that are absolutely romantic (that's if you have someone to share it with).

But at night, this peaceful village changed. Drastically. You'll understand in a moment. You see, we have a wild animal dilemma that only seems to affect us at night. While other places have wolves, mountain lions or boars, Berk has these reptiles that fly and breathe fire.

Yeah, a lot of fun.

Berk is infested with dragons that raid us every other night.

That's where my village comes in. You see, we're all Vikings, we fight to the death. I guess you can see we have stubbiness issues, never knowing when enough is enough. So, of course, we stayed and killed as many dragons as possible. Soon, it was a right passage.

For the pass three hundred years, my village has been at an endless war with these flying reptiles. The dragons don't come for us, they come for our livestock and food. Stealing whatever their filthy claws can carry. That's not to say nothing happens to any of the villagers.

But our story isn't about a Viking that kills for a living. This story is about how I became a legend for centuries to come.

My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. What a great name for a girl, huh? Especially an heiress.

Everything is clam before the storm. As always.

The night was steady and silent, like any other night. Not a foot patted against the grass. The waves were brushing against the shore as a paint brush against a canvas. The buzz of fireflies dancing in the night and croaking sounds coming from her father's snores and snares.

Even asleep the man sounded unhappy.

That man, Stoick, is the chief of Berk and is a very, very busy man. Every single day, something goes wrong and people complain, demanding it to be fixed-meaning a man by the name of Mildrew throws a tantum and the other quickly follow him.

The reason for the villagers' complainants come from the chief's very own daughter creative and crazy inventions;

"Your daughter took the wheels from my cart!"

"Your daughter broke my roof!"

"Your daughter sunk our ship!"

"Your daughter broke my leg!"

"Your daughter is being nothing but a nuisance!"

"Your daughter has been driving use to insanity!"

"… Would have been better off if you had drowned her as an infant."

That was the most common finishing sentence of their lectures beings as Stock the Vast would turn purple with rage. Their complaints sound as if the chief's daughter was a delinquent but she was anything but. If anything, trouble always seemed to hunt her down and torture her with her lack of luck. No, Hiccup has always tried to make things easier for her people and so something useful for once. Unfortunately, her attempts always turned out to be a waste of effort.

Which was why she laid wideawake as the village snored. She was busying herself with improving a new invention. Her notebook, once a clean decorated scrap book, was torn and covered in sot; filled with nothing but notes and drawings. It was opened to a page covered in doddles and tails about her latest idea.

It was a more simpler invention she's thought of in the last few months. Something that would defiantly impressive everyone, impressive her father. A retractable wheel to help pull ships up onto the deck for repairments. Usually it would take twenty of Berk's strongest men to pull a single Longboat up onto the tamp, but if her calculations were correct, then soon it would only take one man.

Hopefully this would make up for her losing a week's worth of fish.

Doubtful, she scowled.

She sat at her desk, a wobbly old thing, sketching away. Her only source of light being a small candle stick resting on the wall. If her father would have awakened and gone up to her room, he would have had a heart attacking seeing the flickering flame. Even if it was just a small candle.

After all, she's a hiccup. And she's reminded of that every day. A klutz. Nothing but a nuisance.

Sometimes she wonders if the village knew how loud they complained. Once again, doubtful.

Stoick gave a heaty groan and huffed in his sleep. She hoped that he would learn to keep quite in his sleep, Hiccup hardly ever gets a wink of sleep around him. She was just thankful he wasn't as bad as Gobber the Blech. That man shook the entire village!

Gobber, a dear friend of her father's, was the main blacksmith of Berk. The main reason bring that he's the great-great-great-great grandson of the man who wrote The Dragon Book- but he truly is an amazing blacksmith, Hiccup can vow for him. He was held at a higher ranking than the others around the village, mainly for his insane weaponry ideas that Hiccup seemed to take on. Not only was he a favorite to complain to sense he'll actually listen, but he stood out the most thanks to his missing limbs, which have been eaten off by the dragons. Each of his limbs were replaced with interchangeable stumps.

Also, he's Hiccup's godfather and mentor. She worked at his forge as his apprentice and she could only thank him enough for giving her a chance to prove herself.

Gobber is the closes thing she has to a father figure.

Her father, sleeping below her, never felt like a father to her. Just a man she lived with and shared blood with. She doesn't know him and he doesn't know her. He doesn't trust her and hardly gives her the time of day as it was. Sometimes it's a wonder on how they're related.

Stoick is a huge beastly man with wild locks of red hair and dark eyes. He's the strongest Viking in the entire village, probably the world. He can lift an entire cart filled with baskets of fish with hardly any struggle.

Where, Hiccup was anything but that. She as a scrawny, tiny girl with thin locks of brown hair, dull green eyes and freckled skin. She would hardly carry a war hammer around, much less pick up a cart. Lacking all forms of muscle and balance, she was labeled as useless. From what she understands, or from what Gobber has told her, she takes more after her mother, a foreigner who was killed during the deadliest raid the village has even seen.

Her father never spoke of her, still torn about the loss of his beloved.

Every story she knows was from her mother's best friend, Gobber.

She was told that her mother- her name was Valka- washed ashore one day when Stoick and Gobber were young teenagers. She spoke in a foreign tongue and had a strange tattoo of a four-winged dragon taking up her entire back and was the best warrior of her age group. No village that Berk knew of had any girl missing that fitted her description: petite with dull locks of hair, silver eyes, freckled skin and tattooed.

It was gossiped that her moth was an escaped slave from the Romans or a captured villager by pirated for their sick pleasure.

But whoever her mother was, she was loved by all. Hiccup never met her mother, she died when she was only a few years old. Too young for a lasting memory.

Her mother's hatchet still rested on the kitchen's wall. One of the last remainders of her existence.

Hiccup froze when she heard a throaty yawn from below her. Her father was awake. Scurrying, she blew out the candle and hopped into bed. A few seconds later she heard Stoick sharpening his sword before he left the house in a hurry.

He never wakes up in the night unless…

There's something you need to know about Stoick the Vast. He has a great nose, being able to smell linger scents. If he would smell Medlrew from the main hall, which wasn't very hard with how much cabbage that man reeks of, he defiantly could smell the scent of the dragons. People like to say he was gifted by the gods with this ability but Hiccup knew that Gobber was the one to actually teach him to smell your enemies.

Something about getting up in their business…

If my father woke up and left with his sword, that would mean…

She was interrupted by a roar and an explosion, quickly followed by the war horn's cries. He shrilling sound of the horn was followed by the roars from Vikings waking for battle.

A rumbling explosion shook her house. Dust fall from the rafts.

…Dragon raid.

From her thin window, she could make out her neighbor's house that lit up in a liquefied flame. Monstrous Nightmare! Her instincts screamed at her to leave. Bolting from her bed, she grabbed her notebook, dagger, and rushed outside. Everyone was beginning the counter attacker.

Woman and elders where getting the children out of the way, evicting them into the woods. Men were running into battle with their weapons drawn. The teenagers were running around trying to put out as many fires as possible. Everyone took part in the fight. But Hiccup had a different job to do.

"Nightmare!" Her neighbors screamed seeing the scaly reptile on the houses. The flaming dragon gave a hideous shriek before batting its sleek tail around, setting it in flames. It knocked over an escaping kid. The boy screamed as weapon-held villagers approached, "No!"

Hiccup herself barely had time to dodge the sharp attire of limbs before rushing out of the general area.

She pass angered Vikings who hollered at the intruders. Dodging weapons, Vikings, and dragons alike, she's not surprise of how easily it is for one to loss a few fingers just running down aisles alone. Gasping, she jumped out of the way as a sword went flying a landed not even an inch from her.

Sometimes, people don't die from the dragons but of the weapons that they knock away.

It's a good wakeup call.

"Raise the torches!" A man, her uncle, Spitelout, ordered and followed shortly were large caplets holding barrels of fire in the air, highlighting the night sky. Dragons of all species soared in the sky as they spread their flames on the village.

Spawns of Nidhogg. [1]

Just your typical night at Berk.

"Hiccup?" A village noticed her as he jumped off a Gronckle, cradling the lamb in his arms. She winced when the meaty beast crushed into one of their older watch towers.

She greeted, "Morning, Stil!" and regardless of the burning buildings, she jumped right into the mayhem. She navigated her way through the rush of villagers, nets, fireballs, escaping livestock and buckets of water by ducking and diving underneath flaming objects. She needs to get to the forge or Gobber will have his hands full during Daisy Hour.

Tripping over her own feet, Hiccup hit her head on the ladder she slides down. She slithered through people waving their swords and axes, nearly getting beheaded as she raced pass a Viking.

"What is she doing out here!" He cried as she ducked beneath his swinging arm. At least she had good reflexes.

Mrs. Hofferson, a burly blonde woman, carrying a large hammer stuttered when she saw the tiny girl race by, "Hiccup!"

"Get outta here!" Another lady called, tossing a barrel down the throat of a Nadder. Next to her, a man who Hiccup couldn't recall snarled at her and spat at the ground.

"Great," he dragged out, "She's going to ruin everything." The woman hit him.

Rolling her eyes, Hiccup climbed up the stone steps onto the plaza. That's just the typical conversations of her everyday life. She was never the person people wanted to see. She was considered a bad luck magnet sense she was born, bad things just happened when she's around.

It wasn't like she had any control over it, things just went wrong when she was near. Not her fault.

That wasn't the only problem she village had with her. Their biggest problem was her creativity, her inventions. She's always finding always to improve everything but it causes more destruction then needed. A klutzy fishbone. The village tried to keep her as far away from them as possible, going so far as to act like she was invisible for a month, but despite that hatred towards her, the village can agree as some things about the small hiccup.

She has a way with metal, creating and fixing most of the village's weapons- even if they don't know it- and knows how to improve any weapon brought to her. Not only was she an amazing blacksmith, she was an amazing cook, most Vikings don't have a clue when it comes to cooking, simply grilling meats was the basic of kitchen skills there were.

Hiccup on the other hand spend most her times indoors- unless she was at the forge- and lives with her father, chief of Berk. No one was around to cook meals, leaving her to create whatever she desires- not that her father complained.

Continuing running through the chaos, Hiccup neared the forge. She just needed to cross a few more sections of buildings and she'll be there. That's the only place where she's useful on this island. As the blacksmith's apprentice, she gets to make war machines, fixing dull and broken weapons and tools and create her own. She even gets to help create the dragon training straw dummies and work with leather, not often but she's learning.

Suddenly, a Speed Stinger rushed passed and stabbed several villagers paralyzing them with its venom. Hiccup couldn't contain her gasp of horror when she realized the paralyzed villagers had been putting out a fire that was spreading to a building. And not just any building…Clearly others saw what had happened and called for the fire patrol as quickly as possible. Luckily, the group was nearby for once.

"Come on!" A boy barked, several teens raced passed her, pulling along a huge storage barrel on wheels. "The clinic is on fire! Go! Go! Go!"

The teens of the village worked on fire patrol by the time they turn twelve and work as one until they pass Dragon Training. They raced around the village, putting out the fires. They were usually divided into groups so that the entire main village was covered. They were Viking trainees who were practicing for the battle field. The one's who just passed Hiccup were a group of Five, each carrying a bucket (or most of them were).

Unfortunately, this group was always fighting.

Fishlegs Ingerman was the first one to fill his bucket and toss it into the fire. He was the largest of the teens, as large as a full-grown Viking male. Despite his barrel-body, the boy was completely harmless and in many ways, a wimp. He was ironically soft spoken to be a Viking, however he was the only other intelligent person on Berk, spouting facts about dragons that rival Hiccup's ideas. He read the Book of Dragons thirty-nine times in the last year alone, having it memorize.

Fishleg was neared soaked when the village's bully followed behind him. The boy glanced back the leader of their patrol team with an obvious lustful face.

Unfortunately, Hiccup's main tormentor was her cousin, Berk's personal bully; Snoutlout Jorgenson, son of Spitlout the Bold. Snoutlout was all words and no action, he'll tell you he'll become the greatest Viking to ever walk the shores of Berk but even his own father find this highly doubtful. He's too full of himself. Being the rudest teenager, most of the others couldn't stand him, but usually follow his lead because everyone believes he'll be the next chief sense hiccup is well- Hiccup. He could easily be the greatest fighter of their age with his strong bulky built but he was simply too impatient and lacked the motivation. No one in the village takes him seriously.

Closing in behind him were the twins. Blonde fraternal twins who were currently fighting over who got to throw their shared bucket of water. Hiccup winced when the sister of the two kicked her brother's family-jewels and dossed the hose with water.

Laughing, she jumped over his withering body.

The Thorston twins were a nightmare. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were the same in every way possible. They were hard to tell apart from afar but up closer you begin to see the difference. Ruffnut always wore her hair in braids like most villager girls and wore several layers of clothes while her brother's hair was loss and he only wore two layers of clothing. Besides that, the two were exactly alike if not for Tuffnut's more masculine built.

No matter how similar the two were, they are different. Ruffnut was the most outgoing of the two and was the more mature as well but a whole lot more daring. Unlike her brother who panics in situations, she hops right in without a thought. Tuffnut was the more annoying and immature of the batch, he's cable of making the most patient person loss control and lash out. He was slightly sexiest but many believe he act like so to tick his sister off.

The one thing about him that stands out the most is his love for pain.

A portion of the house exploded and the teens scattered with yells of panic. The last member of the east fire patrol team, the leader, raced ahead and doused the side with water, not even flinching when a Nadder flew overhead and destroyed the rest of the building with its spikes. He simply turned around and walked away.

Hiccup felt her knees grow weak and had to force herself from falling onto her butt in the middle of the battle field.

The bravest of their age, Ash Hofferson, the most prized trainee. He's the best of the best, the one everyone believes will get to kill his first dragon. The best fighter, best speaker, best looker. The girls of the village lush after his looks; the masculine built, alluring face structure and over all, his god-like appearance. Over the years, he's gone crazy with training and becoming the best of the best in order to prove himself. It was rumored that the chief, Hiccup's father, might make him chief later in life and she could easily believe that, he was everything she wasn't, the perfect warrior. Everyone loves him and listens to every word he says, which wasn't often.

There was one thing about him that stood out the most towards her. Most of the teens of the village pick on her, prank her on every chance they get. Going so far as to destroying property and blaming it on her inventions. He never took part in them, just keeping to himself sitting down sharpening his axe. Even as he seats there not taking part, he still wouldn't defend her like Fishlegs tried to.

"Come on!" He said as the others tried to stop the rest of the building from burning, "We need to start setting the traps. Hurry up and get them!" The others cheered and raced in the opposite directions following orders.

Flipping his bands back, Ash picked up his bucket: he locked the water barrel in place and waited for the others to return with the net. Tonight was the night they test Fishleg's theory.

He could hear the commotion all around him. His brethren screams and cries of war, beasts shrieking as they were brought to the ground, the sound of swords and axe slicing through their chosen enemy, the smell of burning flesh.

A pink and yellowed scaled Nadder flew overheard. He grimaced. Why do they even attack us? They only – usually- steal livestock and there isn't much of those on Berk. There really wasn't a reason for them to linger around yet they do. It never made any sense to him.

Their mindless, he reminded himself, beasts with no thought process. Their purpose is only destruction and terror.

The others return with the jaw-locks and nets. He glanced behind them and noticed the smallest member of the village. A small brunette- Hiccup. Noticing that he saw her, she flushed and took off towards the forge. He eyes her up as she was pulled out of the line of fire by her father, only to be scowled and tossed to the side like a ragdoll.

"I know right?" Snoutlout chortled next to him. Ash gave him a strange look, "Honestly, I think she's lighter than a ragdoll. Easier to break that's for sure."

He and the twins laughed and Ash realized he had voiced his thoughts.

"And why would I care how easily she can break?" He hissed through clench teeth. He ran a finger along the blade of his axe. A habit he gathered whenever Hiccup was brought up. The first few times was when he was trying to keep out of a prank the twins pulled on her and the motion simply stuck with him sense.

A habit he can't break.

Snoutlout looked lost for answers before flushing, "Because who cares? Right? I mean-I don't," He elbows Tuffnut, "If my man, Ash here doesn't care then why would you make such a big deal about it? Ha! This guy- what an idiot. Am I right?" He laughed nervously, trying to act cool in front of his idol.

Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Ash stared dumbfounded.

Confused, Tuffnut looked at him, "Huh? Did I say that? Sorry. Ruffnut really must've kicked me good back there. I don't even remember…"

Together, the teens facepalmed. It was hard to believe that these two idiots where part of the future generation of Vikings. Shutting them up, Ruffnut put her brother in a chokehold and pulled him along with her.

Losing her footing, Hiccup tumbled into the forge's open doors and replaced her fox-furred vest with a smiting apron, made entirely of multiple dragon scales. She remembers when she first old Gobber about her idea, he had laughed in her face and thought she had gone mental, but after a long lecture they started making aprons and gloves made of the hides of dragons who were killed or from the scales scattered across the village after a raid. They're become useful and entirely fire-proof.

After much study, Hiccup realized that more of her apron and gloves where made of Nadder, Timberjack and Changwing scales with a few unrecognizable black smooth scales that resembled pebbles. Gobber's were made of mostly Monstrous Nightmare scales with some Gronckle and Nadder mixed in.

Speaking of Gobber, he was hammering away at a dull blade in the corner of the shop. His interchangeable prosthetic arm was donner with a hammer, hitting not just the blade of the sword but his long-braided mustache. He was one of few who had only a mustache and no beard.

Seeing his apprentice, he called out, "Nice to see you join the party, Miss Hiccup the Late. I thought the beasts have carried you off by now." He laughed at his own joke, Hiccup giggled as well. It might seemed rude to joke about such a thing but Hiccup knew it was Gobber's way of loosening people up- by the use of his shitty dry jokes.

The forge was not nearly as hot as it should be, Hiccup tossed in several pounds of wood into the furnace and start cleaning up Gobber's mess.

"Haha," she grunted as she hefted a large stoned mace up onto its place on the wall, kicking away stray scales. "You must be joking. I don't think those beasts could handle all this. I'm just too muscular of their taste," Jokily she flexed her none-existence muscles.

"They need toothpicks, right?"

They shared a laugh, grabbing the axe and starting to balance the arrows already, Hiccup teased the man back, "And leave you with no apprentice? The forge would burn down if I'm gone for a few short hours, it'll survive you for only a day."

"Oi!" Gobber chortled, tossing the sword into a bucket of water he walked over and thumped Hiccup on the head. She winced.

"Apprentice abuse! Apprentice abuse! Help! Help me!" She pretends to chock and gasped her throat. After jerking back and forth for a moment, she stuck her tongue out and flopped to the side.

Laughing, Gobber handed a panicked Viking a war hammer and said, "If I didn't know better, I'll say you've been with the Romans too much," Out of everyone in the village, Gobber was the only one who founded her dry humor funny and appreciate the lame jokes. As she does his.

Most of the village sees her and Gobber's jokes as useless, where the two blacksmiths tend to use it as an outlet. One of the many things they have in common.

Sitting straight again, Hiccup gave her mentor a slopped-sided grin, "Maybe. I could go to the Amazons and see if I get a star led in one of their plays. Oh!" She beamed at him, "CC sent me a hawk message, his ship will be docking in a few weeks or so, so maybe I'll get a ride to my Amazon friend's island."

"You better still work as a blacksmith!"

"I will. I will. Don't get your undies in a knot." She placed the arrows into their quivers. Hearing a farcical banging on the window, she opened it, revealing several eager Vikings who disposed of several swords, axes, spears and hammer onto the seal; twisted, dull, melted, snapped, and bent.

They franticly urged her to hurry and fix them.

Looks like Daisy Hour has begun.

Rolling her eyes, she hugged the weapons to her frame and struggled under the weight towards the steaming coals. Dumping them, she literally tossed herself onto the pump to air the coals over, enlightening hem back to their former glory.

Gobber moved over: he begin grabbing weapon after weapon, hammering away.

Gasping, the young heir of Berk knew she would never get use to her job. Just pumping the pump takes the wind out of her. Even doing this, daily, was a workout, a routine she had practiced.

As a little girl, Hiccup was very active participation. She could do anything if it involved her hands, that was how her father discovered her talents. When she was only six, her father came across her wooden dolls and horses she made from household items, along with several of her drawings. At first, he took her to Bucket, a strange man whose head was cracked open by a dragon and the only other artiest on Berk.

Stoick had wanted his daughter to become a mapper, believing her skills would be useful. However, after an hour along with the less-then intelligent man, Hiccup went home to inform her father that Bucket would not teach her as she had crises his skills. The man forgiven her sense but refuses to teach her.

After that, he brought her to Gobber, a man she had only met a handful of times and wanted to see if she had any potential with becoming a cordwainer or a woodworker. In only a few months, Gobber realized she wasn't taken with the 'easy' and 'boring' work she was performing and wanted something more demanding. Against Stoick's wishes, he let the girl create her own weapon.

A small ivory dagger attached to an iron hilt.

At that moment, Gobber knew she was made to be a blacksmith and after years of auguring with the chief, he finally got permission to allow her to focus on the task. Even though, by that time, Hiccup had already made four swords, nine spears, three hammers, and seven axes.

She was a natural born blacksmith.

By the time she was ten, Gobber gave her a section to the forge in the back, a place where she create her own little ship. There she designed her own inventions and weapons with the scraps left in the forge. Unfortunately, she realized that no one was interested in her ideas and she closed up the stall windows.

From that moment, she was enhancing the traps and modify weapons to be use for someone her size. So far, she made a shield she could easily carry around with ease, after nineteen miserable fails, however it was destroyed shortly after by Gobber who thought it was an old training shield. Hiccup had never been so infuriated in her whole life when she return to find him breaking apart the shield to use as hilts.

She didn't talk to the man for three weeks. Even with his apologizes.

Shaking the memory away, she took a sword from Gobber and left to balance and sharpen it. Vikings came by asking for weapon replacement, she pointed to a cart by the door and they took a few and rushed back into battle.

There was a flash of yellow from the corner of her eye.

The fire patrol was back once again, Hiccup could see them from the stall window. This time, instead of pulling the water barrel behind them, they were pulling a car filled with nets; setting traps.

Fishlegs and Ruffnut spread the net across an aisle opening as the others hammered the net into the wood. Hopefully they'll capture a dragon for a training next week.

Ash looked around, seeing if the net was place correctly. It wasn't the strongest netting they had, but it would have to do for now. After all, they were just trying to prove Fisheleg's theory. Either way, this would help them trap a dragon, possibly one they needed; a Gronckle or a Monstrous Nightmare or any other they came across.

But they really needed a Monstrous Nightmare.

Hiccup sighed as her knees shook.

Why in the whole Barbaric Archipelago did she have to have a crush on him? The strongest Viking trainee? The one who acts likes she doesn't exist.

Then again, a part of her thought, he did notice you earlier.

No, he didn't.

Hiccup has had a crush on Ash sense they were young, back when he had helped her search for trolls. Apparently, his father told him the same story Gobberhad told her, and as any other five-year-olds would, they believed them. They spent an entire day looking for the mythical creatures after Hiccup managed to escape her father's horrid fishing trip.

After hours of looking, they realized they lost the trail they had been traveling. All they found was a plain filled with rocks.

She remembered she was terrified. Hiccup knew there were bears and wolfs and mountains lions in those forests. But Ash kept a straight face and pulled her along a river until they came to a beach. She never understand why but sense that day she admired his leadership skills and over time, as they gotten older, her admiration grew into a heart-destroying crush. A crush she knew that would never be return.

It's been ten years sense the troll incident and they've never talked. Much less glance at each other.

Even if he had noticed her, the likelihood of him even considering liking her was slim to none. Even as the chief's daughter, heir to the throne of Berk, she was still a Hiccup, the runt. She was useless on the battlefield. What food was she if she couldn't do anything. All the girls were pinned after him, he could have anyone: from the beautiful Dreadlegs to the wild Tether.

"Ahhh!" She hissed as her palm slide across the blade, breaking her train of thoughts. Quickly, she pretended nothing happened as her hand bleed.

Gobber had glanced her way but seeing that she was tinkering with the sword, he returns to his work. She knew how to take care of herself. He wasn't the only one to hear her cry. Ash, who had been setting up another trap not far from the window had heard her. Even as he stared at her, Hiccup stared at the blade in her hands intensely, he knew she did something.

She continued working on balancing the sword.

There was a dull ache in her hand now. She could feel the blood creating a puddle between her fingers as she pretended to work. Taking a chance, hiccup glanced up. The teens have all vanished and Gobber was too busy to care.

Sighing, she stopped and glanced at her hand. She flinched. The cut wasn't deep but was too long to heel quickly, it would take a few weeks for it to fully heal. Her entire hand was drenched in the scarlet youth and was slowly dripping from her hand.

Hoping Gobber wouldn't notice, she wrapped her hands up in a bandage and cleaned the stain from the blade. She moved towards the grinding wheel to sharpen said blade.

Not much happened after that.

Gobber would get up to scare off a few dragons who achieved to get closer to the forge. A Gronckle was captured for training. Viking after Viking demanding more weapons. The teens running pass to set up more traps here and there.

And finally, finally, something happened…

There was a triggering sound and a snap, followed closely by four separated enraged roars. One of the traps had been set off and from the sounds if it, it wasn't villagers'. Hearing cheers, Hiccup craned her neck outside the window and caught a whiff of a exotic flower and saw a group of villagers gathering close to a Snaptrapper.

"No way."

She's never seen a living Snaptrapper before. Only their skeletons as they were burned after raids. One of the rarest dragons in Berk. The four-headed flower-paddled looking dragon was the cousin of the Zippleback, the two-headed dragon. Even with its razor sharp teeth and bubbling throats, she still found the monster astonishing. There wasn't much known about this particular dragon, she knew that much. Each neck was a different length, making it impossible to get a close-up study on the beast.

A Viking brought his axe up, ready to cut one of the heads off with a wicked look in his eyes.

For a split second, Hiccup could have sworn she saw fear in the eyes of the dragon.

Suddenly, the Viking was stopped, his blade taking a nick of the reptile who roared in response.

He had been stopped by Gobber the Blech.

"By Odin's beard, Gobber!" The man shrieked as the Snaptrapper tried rolling its heads over to smother the men holding them down. Others quickly jumped in to restrain the beast.

Gobber drawled, "What do you think you're doing?" He ignored the looks he received.

The man was confused. Glancing form the blacksmith to the dragon, he said, "Why, killing it of course! What does it look like? Now. Unhand my axe." He yanked at his weapon. Gobber's hook-hand refused to budge.

"Oh… I don't think so," tsked Gobber, "Did you not hear the chief's speech? We are to capture as many dragons as possible, we need them for the new trainees this year. I'm not about to let you kill one. We've already gotten the Monstrous Nightmare killed thanks to your petty thinking!" He sneered out to the crowd including them into his lecture. "I'm taking this beast to its cage," he study the creature with interest, "It's been such a long time sense we last had a Snaptrapper to train with. If I remember correctly, the last time was when Valka was present."

As the name was uttered, the crowd fall silent in mourn for their lost friend. Not many would be willing to speak about their beloved Viking who had been ripped away from their world to early. No one spoke her name in fear of Stoick's wrath.

The teens showed up, coming to check on their trap when they noticed the large gathering of villagers around one of them. There was a growling sound and they realized their trapped had worked. They beamed at one another.

"Yes!" Snoutlout cheered as the twins head butted, "Did we catch one? Did we? Did we?"

"Yeah," Ruffnut grinned, "It better be a Monstrous Nightmare. They're awesome!"

"I love how they can set their selves on fire…" Tuffnut and Ruffnut sighed dreamily as they imagined a world where they had that ability to cause wide destruction.

Ignoring them, both Fishlegs and Ash tried to peer over the adults to see what they had caught. "Doubtful," Fishelsg commented in disappointment, "It's too small to be a Monstrous Nightmare. The neck and wing span resembles that of a Zippleback."

The other three groaned. A Zippleback had already been caught last week for the occasion, they didn't need another one. They went through all that work with putting the traps up only to catch a worthless catch. At least they'll get to see the slaughtering of one in person!

Great visible-practice for training.

Ash squinted his eyes. It did appear to be a Zippleback with its separated long neck but something seemed off about the split, like there were more then two heads. He tried to strech to see but the villagers in front of him kept blocking him.

"Move! Move!" Gobber barked as he parted the crowd and the teens gasped seeing what had been caught. He saw them and pointed them out, "You five! Which one of you had the idea of setting up this trap?"

The villagers turned to face them.

Under the heavy gaze of the village, they glanced between each other and together, they pushed Fishlegs forward. Nervously, he picked at his nails, "I-I did, sir." Behind him, the twins had to silence Snoutlout with a punch in the face as he tried to brag about him capturing the Snaptrapper by himself.

The crowd was beginning to decrease.

The group was silent despite the rage of battle around them, Gobber asked, "And why did you think it would work?"

Fishlegs turned blue as he hugged for air. Ash took pity on the overweight boy and stepped forward, "As Fishlegs is trying to tell you, he's ha the idea for weeks now. He told us he noticed the dragons would often wonder towards the location of the forge. They knew that's where the weapons were coming from. So Fishlegs has been seeing which ways they tried to sneak in. They don't sneak in by sky, they sneak in by slithering between the houses as the main force of Vikings are defending the livestock away from the plaza.

"You weren't notice them between the houses. We would be too busy focusing on the sky and roofs of the houses instead. So, we finally decided to test if his theory was correct and set up three traps. And, as you can see," He gestured to the Snaptrapper who's jaws were now roped down by leather, "It was a success."

Gobber grabbed Fishlegs by his furred shirt and glared down at him, "You better be glad it did. If you had been wrong and cause use to loss a trap Stoick would not have gone easy on you." He looked towards the forge and saw Hiccup watching him. Turning away, he ordere three of the remaining villagers to get as much as possible, "We're taking this thing to the arena!" They cheered.

He told the teens to get back to work, and he didn't mean the dragon traps. The teens complained, "-But it's our dragon. We should at least get to see you lock it up!" They made a move to leave when they noticed that Ash was gone.

Hiccup was in the middle of pulling out a contraction on wheels. She knew Gobber would not be back for a good half hour, which means she'll have a little time to tinker on her invention. She was too busy to notice Ash.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice as he asked about her invention. "Why are you in here?" She blinked when he handed her his axe. She blinked up at him owlishly.

"I want it sharpen for training," he answered her unspoken question, "It begins in two days."

"I know when training begins," she dropped the axe off onto one of the many tables in the shop and turned back towards him, "Just a sharpening or the whole deal?"

"The whole deal. How much would it cost, my mom already said she'll cover it."

"Nothing. You know the law. Weapons asked to be fixed during a raid are free of charge. Anyother time and it's a hefty price," she wasn't lying but she was manipulating the truth to befit her in this situation. Usually, Ash's mom would be the one to approach her in fixing their weapons, she was going to soak up as much time with Ash as she could. She turned around and begin to check for any dents in the blade of the axe when she heard a shudder behind her. She whipped around to see Ash running his fingers along the barrel of her bola launcher, "No! Don't!" But her warning fall to deft ears.

He yelled out in shock when the contraction sprung into action. A wooden beam with what appears to be a disfigured crossbow popped out of the barrel and shot a pair of bolas. Ash ducked out of the way just in time as the bola went sailing pass him, creating a large hole in the roof as it split the wood. Outside, they heard a few villagers cry out.

Silently, the two stood with gabbing jaws. At least now Hiccup knew that her launcher works perfectly fine.

She glanced over at the blond trainee, "Sorry about that,"

Stiffly, Ash glanced from the hole in the ceiling to the bola-launcher, "What in Thor's name is that thing?"

"Bolas?"

"I know what those are! I'm talking about this machine!" He screamed gesturing to the invention.

"Bola-launcher," she stated, "It's still has calibration issues in the coil… so… yeah…" Nervously, she struggled to put in another pair of bolas and attached them to the hook and closed the invention up. No one would have guess that the small machine caused a hole in the ceiling, "So… Yeah… Yeah…"

With hidden eagerness, Ash urged, "How far does it shoot?"

"Um- I dunno. I haven't measure yet- I mean it's not like it's a finished product or anything- so, really, it doesn't-" she flinched at Ash's heated glare that he toss her away, "Maybe- u dunno, around twenty…."

"Feet?" That's not far.

"…Yards…"

That was far, even Ash had to admit it. He knew from experience that the chief himself could only toss a bola around ten yards at most. He knew that from the summer strength festival. But… the idea still had many kinks in it, he would tell as he looked at the barrel out of the corner of his eye. It was too small to carry more than one bola out of time, making it useless during raids or when the village would be under attack. The handles looked as if they would easily break under a grown Viking's weight, making it- once again- useless.

He probably should talk to Gobber about the barrel, about enlarging it for a Viking. It would be useful then, especially if the Outcasts would try to attack them again as they did several months ago. However with how it was, Hiccup would only become another problem with the machine.

There was curiosity in Ash's eyes and Hiccup felt a sear of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she'll finally be praised about her invention. It was a good idea to have a bola launcher, it just need a few more fixes to it and it would be perfect!

Her hopes caught flames when her crush turned to her an growled, "It would be useful in a professional's hands. You should hand it over to Gobber, at less then you'll won't make a mess like always," He begin to leave. "remember I want my axe back by tomorrow night," Without waiting for her response, he shut the forge's doors.

Her hands went limp beside her.

He was half way up the hill trying to catch up with his patrol team. Said patrol team were busy checking in on their other traps with disappointment and he knew it. Hearing a grunting sound behind him, he stopped and turned. A group of villagers were dragging an unconscious beaten Gronckle of the slope heading in the direction of the killing arena. The villagers barely acknowledged him and close behind them another fire patrol group followed- or, well, half of the group followed from behind.

Tether Davey was lending the way with a skip in her step. She was insane, much like the twins. Always setting everything on fire and enjoy inflicting pain on people. Heavymaw was the opposite, he wasn't insane by any means but he knew how to get what he wanted and wasn't afraid to go out of his way to get it. And last, but not least, Adan followed, he was Heavymaw's right hand man who didn't knew the saying 'Personal Space'.

"Guees what I saw," Tether said as she tugged harshly on her thinning brown hair. There was one thing about Tether that drove people insane and brought them to their knees, she was a gossiper. She knew everything about everyone and everything and she wasn't afraid of letting others know it. If you had a secret, she probably already knows it.

Adan tossed his arm onto Ash's shoulders, "Hiccup is going to be in so much trouble," he gasped when he was kneed in the gut on Ash's knee guards. He was luckily that he didn't get a finger chopped off by the blonde's axe. Speaking of… "Where's you axe?"

Before Ash would say anything, Tether strutted forward with a giggle giving an extra swish to her hips. She smiled at the boys, "Why, don't you know? He asked Hiccup to take care of his favorite toy," she gave a heaty laugh, "Hope you two had a lot of fun in the forge!" she turned and chased after the villagers pulling the Gronckle and kicked the beast in the head with a cheerful cry.

The boys all shared a look of agreement. The girl was not right in the head.

Shrugging off the girl's insane randomness, Ash asked, "What did she see anyway?"

"Oh," Heavymaw's honey-coated voice chord, "She forgot, huh? Hiccup took off with some weird invention of hers again. She looked pissed."

"We're going to watch her fail," Adan cheered tossing his hands in the air in excitement. He failed to noticed the paleness of the blonde's face, "We were looking for the twins, you know they love watching Hiccup destroy stuff."

"Oh no."

Chapter 1: 8148 words

Thanks for reading!

[1]: Nidhofgg: Germanic mythology. A dragon living at one of the three roots of the cosmic tree Yaggdrasil. The freezing fist and darkness of Niflheim, the lowest of the 9 worlds, was where the dragon lives, ripping corpses apart and eating them. […]

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