A/N: Welcome all to my new story! The first few chapters will be pretty similar to the book, but with a fe significant changes, and it will diverge from canon more as the story goes on. This story is a bit of a what-if, but I made some other changes, mostly headcanon stuff that will also be incorporated into my other httyd stories, but can be confusing if you don't expect it to be there. I'll explain most of it in the story, and as I go along, but for now: the dragon life cycle.

Dragons hatch from eggs in the winter (around Snoggletog), and grow slowly but steadily for six years, in the Tiny Tooth stage. Then, the winter they turn 6, they hibernate. They have a massive growth spurt over the course of the year, then they hibernate again, during the winter of their 7th birthday. Then, they grow slowly bit steadily for 6 more years in the Shortwing stage. They have another hibernation winter, growth spurt year, and hibernation winter. They emerge as Broadwings, and grow slowly but steadily for the next six years until they are fully mature. Later in life, the dragon may or may not become a Titanwing, and I haven't decided if that will involve hiberna ting or not.

So, the Initiates capture dragons that have just turned seven, and are now Shortwings which have just gone through a growth spurt year. They will keep the dragons for six years if they can train them successfully, then the dragons go into hibernation. Some stay with their masters, who have to suffer through the resulting growth spurt, and some leave and hibernate somewhere else, usually never to be seen again. But by the time a dragon becomes a Broadwing, they will almost always turn on their master and either attack or flee, because they are now bigger than the Vikings and don't want to be yelled at anymore, no matter how much fish they are given.

But there are exceptions.

The Vikings do ride dragons, but these riding-dragons are breeds that are naturally submissive to anyone who proves they are strong enough to be in charge, and are usually captured and trained as Broadwing adults. Nobody has ever ridden fully-grown Monstrous Nightmares, Gronckles, Deadly Nadders, or other dragons that raid the village.

Yes, this Berk has dragon raids, which I'll explain at the end of the chapter because this note is too long already. There are also girls in the Initiation Program.

For those of you who have read all the books... I've only read the first four, and I recently learned some stuff online from the later books that totally disproves pretty much everything I made up... so to be safe, we'really going to ignore any information that came from any book besides the first, unless I bring in that information.

Review or PM me if you have any questions. If you read this entire Author's Note... digital cookies to you, and you'll be less confused than the people who skipped it, so hey!

Long ago, on the wild and windy isle of Berk, a smallish Viking with a longish name stood up to his ankles in snow.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the hope and heir to the Tribe of Hairy Hooligans, had been feeling slightly sick ever since he woke up that morning.

Twelve young Vikings, including Hiccup, were hoping to become full members of the Tribe by passing the Dragon Initiation Program. They were standing on a bleak little beach at the bleakest spot on the whole bleak island. A heavy snow was falling.

"PAY ATTENTION!" screamed Gobber the Belch, the soldier in charge of teaching Initiation. "This will be your first military operation, and Hiccup will be commanding the team."

"Oh, not Hic-cup," groaned Dogsbreath the Duhbrain and most of the other recruits. "You can't put Hiccup in charge, sir, he's USELESS."

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the Hope and Heir to the Tribe of Hairy Hooligans, wiped his nose miserably on his sleeve. He sank a little deeper into the snow.

"ANYBODY would be better than Hiccup," sneered Snotface Snotlout. "Even Fishlegs would be better than Hiccup."

Fishlegs had a squint that made him blind as a jellyfish, and an allergy to reptiles.

"SILENCE!" roared Gobber the Belch. "The next of you to speak has limpets for lunch for the next THREE WEEKS!"

There was absolute silence immediately. Limpets are a bit like worms and a bit like snot and a lot less tasty than either.

"Hiccup will be in charge and that is an order!" screamed Gobber, who didn't do noises quieter than screaming. He was a seven-foot giant with a mad glint in his one working eye and a beard like exploding fireworks. Despite the freezing cold he was wearing hairy shorts and a teeny weeny deerskin vest that showed off his lobster-red skin and bulging muscles. He was holding a flaming torch in one gigantic fist.

"Hiccup will be leading you, although he is, admittedly, completely useless, because Hiccup is the son of the CHIEF, and that's the way things go with us Vikings. Where do you think you are, the REPUBLIC OF ROME? Anyway, that is the least of your problems today. You are here to prove yourself as a Viking Hero. And it is an ancient tradition of the Hooligan Tribe that you should-" Gobber paused dramatically- "FIRST CATCH YOUR DRAGON!"

Ohhhhhh suffering scallops, thought Hiccup.

"Our dragons are what set us apart!" bellowed Gobber. "Lesser humans train hawks to hunt for them, horses to carry them. It is only the VIKING HEROES who dare to tame the wildest, most dangerous creatures on Earth."

Gobber spat solemnly into the snow. "There are three parts to the Dragon Initiation Test. The first and most dangerous part is a test of your courage and skill at burglary. If you wish to enter the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, you must first catch your dragon. And that is WHY," continued Gobber at full volume, "I have brought you here to this scenic spot. Take a look at Wild Dragon Cliff itself."

The twelve young Vikings tipped their heads backward.

The cliff loomed dizzyingly high over them, black and sinister. In summer you could barely even see the cliff as dragons of all shapes and sizes swarmed over it, snapping and biting and sending up a cacophony of noise that could be heard all over Berk.

But in winter the dragons were hibernating and the cliff fell silent, except for the ominous, low rumble of their snores. Hiccup could feel the vibrations through his sandals.

"Now," said Gobber, "do you notice those four caves about halfway up the cliff, grouped roughly in the shape of a skull?"

The initiates nodded.

"Inside the cave that would be the right eye of the skull is the Dragon Nursery, where there are, AT THIS VERY MOMENT, three thousand young dragons having their last few weeks of winter sleep."

"OOOOOOOH," muttered the boys and Ruffnut excitedly.

Hiccup swallowed hard. He happened to know considerably more about dragons than anybody else there. Ever since he was a small boy, he had been fascinated by the creatures. He'd spent hour after long hour dragon watching in secret. (Dragon-spotters were thought to be geeks and nerds, hence the need for secrecy.) And what Hiccup had learned about dragons told him that walking into a cave with three thousand dragons in it was an act of madness.

Most of the others didn't seem too concerned, however. Dogsbreath was grinning foolishly, Snotlout was absentmindedly flexing his muscles while eyeing the cliff, and Ruffnut and Tuffnut Jr. had positively gleeful grins on their faces, while Clueless looked clueless. At least Fishlegs looked nervous but determined, and Astrid seemed to be taking the whole thing very seriously, but she still looked confident in her abilities.

"In a few minutes I want you to take one of the baskets and start climbing the cliff," commanded Gobber the Belch. "Once you are at the cave entrance, you are on your own. I am too large to squeeze my way into the tunnels that lead to the Dragon Nursery. You will enter the cave QUIETLY- and that means you, too, Wartihog, unless you want to become the first spring meal for three thousand hungry dragons, HA HA HA HA!"

Gobber laughed heartily at his little joke, then continued. "Dragons this size are normally fairly harmless to man, but in these numbers they will set upon you like piranhas. There'd be nothing left of even a fatso like you, Wartihog- just a pile of bones and your helmet. HA HA HA HA! So… you will walk QUIETLY through the cave and each recruit will steal ONE sleeping dragon. Lift the dragon GENTLY from the rock and place it in your basket. Any questions so far?"

Nobody had any questions.

"In the unlikely event that you DO wake the dragons- and you would have to be IDIOTICALLY STUPID to do so- run like thunder for the entrance to the cave. Dragons do not like cold weather and the snow will probably stop them in their tracks."

Probably? thought Hiccup. Oh, well, that's reassuring.

"I suggest you spend a little time choosing your dragon. It is important to get one the correct size. This will be the dragon that hunts fish for you, and pulls down deer for you. You will catch the dragon that will carry you into battle later on, when you are much older and a Warrior of the Tribe. But, nonetheless, you want an impressive animal, so a rough guide would be, choose the biggest creature that will fit into your basket. Don't linger for TOO long in there-"

Linger? thought Hiccup. In a cave full of three thousand sleeping DRAGONS?

"I need not tell you," Gobber continued cheerfully, "that if you return to this spot without a dragon, it is hardly worth coming back at all. Anybody who FAILS this task will be put into immediate exile. The Hairy Hooligan Tribe has no use for FAILURES. Only the strong can belong."

Unhappily, Hiccup looked round at the distant horizon. Nothing but snow and sea as far as the eye could see. Exile didn't look too promising either.

"RIGHT," said Gobber briskly. "Each initiate take a basket to put their dragon in and we'll get going."

The young Vikings rushed to get their baskets, chattering happily and excitedly.

"I'm going to get one of those Monstrous Nightmare ones with the extra-extendable claws. They're really scary," boasted Snotlout.

"Oh shut up, Snotlout, you can't," said Speedifist. "Only Hiccup can have a Monstrous Nightmare, you have to be the son of a chief." Hiccup's father was Stoick the Vast, the fearsome chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe.

"HICCUP?" sneered Snotlout. "If he's as useless at this as he is at Bashyball, we'll be lucky if he even gets one of the Basic Browns."

The Basic Brown was the most common type of dragon, a serviceable beast but without much glamour.

"SHUDDUP AND GET INTO LINE YOU MISERABLE LITTLE TADPOLES!" yelled Gobber the Belch.

The recruits scrambled into their places, baskets on their backs, and stood to attention. Gobber walked along the line, lighting the torch that each initiate held in front of them from the great flare in his hand.

"IN HALF AN HOUR'S TIME YOU WILL BE A VIKING WARRIOR, WITH YOUR FAITHFUL SERPENT AT YOUR SIDE… OR BREAKFASTING WITH WODEN IN VALHALLA WITH DRAGONS' TEETH IN YOUR BOTTOM!" screamed Gobber with horrible enthusiasm.

"DEATH OR GLORY!" yelled Gobber.

"DEATH OR GLORY!" yelled ten young Vikings back at him frantically.

Death, thought Hiccup and Fishlegs sadly.

Gobber paused dramatically, with the horn to his lips.

I think this could possibly be the worst moment of my life SO FAR, thought Hiccup to himself as he waited for the blast of the horn. And if they shout much louder, we're going to wake up those dragons before we even START. Hiccup's only consolation was that the only nearby dragons were Tiny Tooths and Shortwings- Broadwings, the adults, were much more lethal, and Hiccup had only encountered them in raids and seen from a distance. The cave they were going into contained only the newest and therefore smallest Shortwings, hibernating to recover from their growth spurt year after the Tiny Tooth stage.

"PARRRRRRRRRP!" Gobber blew the horn.

You probably have guessed by now that Hiccup was not your natural Viking Hero.

For a start, he didn't LOOK like a Hero. Somebody like Snotlout, for instance, was tall, muscley, covered in skeleton tattoos, and already had the beginnings of a small moustache. This consisted of a few straggly yellow hairs clinging to his upper lip and was deeply unpleasant to look at, but still impressively manly for a boy not yet thirteen.

Hiccup was on the small side and had the kind of face that was almost entirely unmemorable. He DID have Heroic Hair, which was bright red and stood up vertically however much you tried to wet it down with seawater. But nobody ever saw that because it was hidden under his helmet most of the time.

You would NEVER have picked Hiccup out of those ten boys and two girls to be the Hero of this story. Snotlout was good at everything and a natural leader. Dogsbreath was as tall as his father and could do amusing things like farting the Berk national anthem. Astrid was small like Hiccup, but that was fine because she was a girl, she still was pretty muscular for a twelve year old, and like Snotlout was good at everything and a natural leader but unlike Snotlout was not inclined to let her ego get in the way.

Hiccup was just absolutely average, the kind of unremarkable, skinny, freckled boy who was easy to overlook in a crowd.

So, when Gobber blew the horn and moved out of sight to find a comfortable rock to sit on and eat his mussel-and-tomato sandwich, Snotlout pushed Hiccup out of the way and took charge.

"Okay, listen up, boys," he whispered in a menacing fashion as Astrid rolled her eyes and Ruffnut protested. "I'M in charge, not the Useless. And anybody who objects gets a knuckle sandwich from Dogsbreath the Duhbrain."

"Ugh," grunted Dogsbreath, pounding his fists together in happy excitement. Dogsbreath was Snotlout's chief sidekick and a great, big gorilla of a boy.

"Bash him, Dogsbreath, to show what I mean…"

Dogsbreath was delighted to oblige. He gave Hiccup a shove that sent him sprawling headfirst into the snow, then ground his face in it.

"Pay attention!" hissed Snotlout. The boys and Ruffnut dragged their eyes away from Dogsbreath and Hiccup and paid attention. Astrid checked the knives in her boots, above their childish antics. "Rope yourselves together. The best climber should go first…"

"Well, that's YOU, of course, Snotlout," said Fishlegs. "You're the best at everything, aren't you?"

Snotlout looked at Fishlegs suspiciously. It was difficult to tell whether Fishlegs was laughing at him or not, because of his squint.

"That's right, Fishlegs," said Snotlout. "I AM." And, just in case he had been laughing at him: "Bash him, Dogsbreath!"

While Dogsbreath pushed Fishlegs down to join Hiccup in the snow, everybody started roping themselves together.

Hiccup and Fishlegs were the last to be tied on, just behind a flushed and triumphant Dogsbreath.

"Oh, brilliant," muttered Fishlegs. "I'm about to enter a cave full of man-eating reptiles tied up to ten complete maniacs."

"If we get to the cave," said Hiccup nervously, looking up at the sheer black cliff.

Hiccup put the lighted torch between his teeth to leave his hands free, and started climbing after the others.

It was a perilous climb. The rocks were slippery with snow and the other boys (and Ruffnut) were thoroughly overexcited, making the ascent far too quickly. At one point Clueless missed his footing and fell- luckily onto Dogsbreath, who caught him by the back of his trousers and heaved him back on to the rock again, before he brought the whole lot of them down.

When they finally made it to the mouth of the cave, Hiccup looked down briefly at the sea pounding the rocks way below, and swallowed very hard…

"Untie the ropes!" ordered Snotlout, his eyes popping with excitement at the thought of the dangers to come. "Hiccup goes into the cave first because HE is the son of the Chief…" He sneered. "And, if any of the dragons ARE awake, he'll be the first to know about it! Once we're in the cave, it's every man for himself. Only the strong can belong…"

Although he wasn't your usual mindless thug of a Hooligan, Hiccup wasn't a wimp, either. Being frightened is not the same thing as being a coward. Maybe he was as brave as everyone else there, because he went to catch a dragon despite knowing what dragons are like. And, when he had climbed perilously to the mouth of the cave and had found that inside there was a long, twisty tunnel, he still went down it, despite not being too keen on long, twisty tunnels with dragons at the end of them.

He gave a quick, longing glance at the cave that was the 'left eye' of the 'skull' where the Tiny Tooths were hibernating in preparation for their growth spurt year to become Shortwings- being much smaller and with less teeth and weaponry, he might have an extra minute or two to escape if they did wake up- but started down the 'right eye' tunnel.

The tunnel was dripping and clammy. At times it was high enough for the boys to walk upright. Then it would close down into narrow, claustrophobic holes that the larger boys could only just squeeze through, squirming on their stomachs, with the flares held in their mouths.

After ten long minutes of walking and crawling into the heart of the cliff, the stench of dragon- a salty stink of seaweed and old mackerel heads- got stronger and stronger, until finally it became unbearable and the tunnel opened out into an enormous cavern.

The cavern was full of more dragons than Hiccup could have ever imagined existed.

They were of every possible color and size, and they included all the species that Hiccup had heard of, and quite a few more that he hadn't.

Hiccup started sweating as he looked around him at pile after pile of the animals, draped over every available surface; even hanging upside down from the roof like giant bats. They were all fast asleep, and most of them were snoring in unison. This was a sound so loud and so deep that it seemed to penetrate right into Hiccup's body and vibrate around his soft insides, churning his stomach and bowels, and forcing his heart to beat at the same slow dragon pulse.

If one, just one, of these countless creatures were to wake up, it would raise the alarm to the others and the boys would meet a horrible death. Hiccup had once seen a deer that wandered too close to Wild Dragon Cliff torn to pieces in a matter of minutes…

Hiccup closed his eyes. "I will NOT think about it," he said to himself. "I WILL NOT."

None of the others were thinking about it. Ignorance is very useful in such circumstances. Their eyes were popping with excitement as they walked through the cave, hands over their noses to keep out the revolting smell, looking for the biggest dragon they could find that would fit in their basket.

They left the torches in a pile at the entrance. The cavern was already well-lit by Glowworms- huge, sluggish animals dotted here and there that shone with a steady yet dim fluorescence, like a low-watt lightbulb. And the Flamehuffers gave off extra little bursts of light that flickered on and off as they breathed in and out.

Predictably, most of the initiates headed towards the plug-uglies of the dragon world.

Snotlout made a big fuss about grabbing a vicious-looking Monstrous Nightmare, smiling nastily at Hiccup as he did so. Snotlout was the son of Baggybum the Beerbelly, Stoick the Vast's younger brother. He was intending to get rid of Hiccup sometime in the future so that he, Snotlout, would become Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. And a gruesome and terrifying Chief, as Snotlout meant to be, would need a properly awesome dragon.

Wartihog and Dogsbreath got into a loudly whispered fight over a Gronckle, a heavily-armored brute with fangs like kitchen knives sticking out in such numbers that it couldn't keep it mouth shut. Dogsbreath won, then managed to drop it as he was trying to bundle it into his basket. The weaponry of the beast made a horribly loud clatter as it landed on the floor of the cavern.

The Gronckle opened its evil, crocodile eyes.

Everybody held their breath.

The Gronckle stared ahead. It was difficult to tell from its blank expression whether it was awake or fast asleep. Hiccup realized, in an agony of suspense, that the gossamer-thin third eyelid was still down.

And there it stayed for a few heart-stopping moments, until…

It slowly closed its upper eyelids again.

Amazingly, not one of the other dragons woke up. A few grumbled groggily before making themselves comfy again. But most were in such a stupor that they barely even stirred.

Hiccup let out his breath. Maybe these dragons were so dead to the world that nothing would wake them from their slumber.

He swallowed hard, muttered a prayer to Loki, the patron saint of sneaky exploits, and edged forward cautiously to grab the most unconscious-looking dragon, so he could get out of this nightmare as fast as possible.

It is a little-known fact that dragons grow colder the deeper they sleep.

It is even possible for dragons to go into a sleep coma in which they are icy cold, with no obvious breath, pulse, or heartbeat. They can stay in this state for centuries, and only a highly skilled expert can tell from looking at them if they are alive or dead.

But a dragon who is awake or lightly sleeping is very warm indeed, like bread that has just come out of the oven.

Hiccup found one that was about the right size- a largeish Basic Brown- and fairly cool to the touch. He was about to place it in his basket when he saw, around twenty feet away, Astrid placing a Deadly Nadder in her basket, while nearby Ruffnut lowered a snoozing Hideous Zippleback into hers.

While Hiccup was not your standard young Viking thug, he did have some standards. And there was no way he was going to be beaten twice by girls.

His eyes flicked to a medium-small Gronckle a few steps away. When he laid a finger on its lumpy skin, it was even cooler than the Basic Brown had been. That was all the convincing he needed, and he carefully and quickly got it into his basket. Even though it was barely half-grown, it was surprisingly heavy.

"I DID it, I DID it, I DID it!" he chanted happily to himself. At least he wasn't going to be the only one in the class who didn't have a dragon. Even better, he had a Gronckle, which was almost as good as a Monstrous Nightmare. Maybe he'd get some real respect for once, and if he failed to train this dragon, he was pretty confident he could outrun it. Things were looking up.

Everybody seemed to have gotten themselves a dragon by now and they were all making their way quietly toward the exit. Everybody, that was, except for…

Fishlegs, who was already covered in a bright red, itchy rash, and was, at that very moment approaching a pile of knottily entangled Nadders on very loud tiptoes.

Fishlegs was even worse at burglary than Dogsbreath.

Hiccup stopped dead in his tracks. "Don't do it, Fishlegs- PLEASE don't do it!" he whispered.

But Fishlegs was fed up with Snotlout's taunting and of being sneered at and jeered at. He was going to get himself a really cool dragon that all the other boys- and maybe the girls- would respect.

Squinting so hard he could barely see the pile of dragons, his eyes streaming, and scratching himself violently, Fishlegs reached slowly toward the bottom-most dragon, took one leg in his hand, and gently… yanked.

The entire pile came crashing down in a furious tangle of limbs and wings and spines. Every Viking in the cavern gave a horrified gasp.

Most of the Nadders snapped crossly at each other before settling back down to sleep.

One brute bigger than the others opened his eyes and blinked a few times.

Hiccup noted, with great relief, that the third eyelid was still down.

The initiates waited for the eyes to close.

And then Fishlegs sneezed.

Four GIGANTIC sneezes that went echoing and bouncing off the cavern walls.

The big Nadder stared sightlessly ahead, frozen like a dragon statue.

But ve-ry faintly, an ominous purring noise began in his throat.

And ve-ry slowly…

… the third eyelid slid upward.

"Uh-oh," whispered Hiccup.

The Nadder's head suddenly whipped round to face Fishlegs, its yellow cat's eyes snapping into focus on the boy. It unfolded its wings to their greatest extent and stealthily advanced, like a panther about to spring. It opened its mouth wide enough to show the forked dragon tongue and…

"R-R-R-U-U-U-U-U-N-N-N!" shouted Hiccup, grabbing Fishlegs' arm and dragging him away.

The boys ran for the exit tunnel. Fishlegs and Hiccup were the last to get there.

There was no time to pick up the torches, so they were running in the pitch dark. The basket with the Gronckle in it was bumping on Hiccup's back.

They had two minutes' head start on the dragons because it took a while for the first dragon to wake everybody else up. But Hiccup could hear a furious roaring and flapping as the dragons started to pour into the tunnel after the Vikings.

He ran a little faster.

The dragons could move faster than the Vikings because they could see better in the dark, but they were held up when the tunnel got smaller, and they had to fold their wings up to squirm through.

"I… haven't… got… a… dragon," panted Fishlegs, a couple of paces behind Hiccup.

"That," said Hiccup, as he scrambled frantically on his elbows through the narrow bit, "is the LEAST… ow… of our problems. They're gaining on us!"

"No… dragon," repeated Fishlegs stubbornly.

"Oh, for THOR'S SAKE," snapped Hiccup.

He thrust his basket into Fishlegs' arms and grabbed the empty one from Fishlegs' back. "Have MINE, then. Wait here."

And Hiccup turned and went back through the narrow bit even though the roaring was getting closer and louder by the second.

"WHAT… ARE… YOU… DOING?" screamed Fishlegs, frantically dancing up and down on the spot.

Hiccup came back through the hole again precious moments later. Fishlegs grabbed hold of an arm to help haul him through.

They could hear a horrible snuffling that sounded as if the nose of a dragon had entered the other end of the hole. Hiccup bunged a rock at it and it squealed indignantly.

They turned a corner and suddenly they could see light from outside at the end of the final tunnel.

Fishlegs went first, but, just as Hiccup was kneeling down to follow, a dragon pounced on him with a flap and a shriek. Hiccup hit it and it fell back enough for him to crawl toward the light. Another dragon- or maybe the same one- sank its fangs into Hiccup's calf. He was so desperate to get out he dragged the animal through with him.

As soon as Hiccup's head and shoulders were through into the light, there was Gobber. He grabbed Hiccup under the armpits and hauled him out, dragons pouring after him.

"JUMP!" yelled Gobber, as he stunned a dragon with one mighty blow of his fist.

"What do you mean, JUMP?" Hiccup hesitated as he looked down at the dizzying drop into the sea.

"No time to climb down," panted Gobber, banging a couple of dragons' heads together, and bouncing three more off his gigantic belly. "JUMP!"

Hiccup closed his eyes and leaped off the cliff.

As he plunged through the air, the dragon that was attached to his leg released its jaws with a squawk of alarm and flew off.

Hiccup was traveling at such speed by the time he hit the water that it didn't feel like water at all, more like something hard and painful, and so cold that he nearly passed out.

He sputtered to the surface, amazed to find that he didn't appear to be dead, and was immediately drenched by the gigantic splash of Gobber the Belch landing a couple of feet away from him.

Shrieking furiously, the dragons swarmed out of the cave and dive-bombed the floating Vikings.

Hiccup pulled his helmet as far down as it would go. There were horrible scraping sounds as the dragons' talons raked across the metal. Another one landed, hissing, on the water right in front of Hiccup's face. It took off again with a screech when it felt how cold the sea was. The dragons didn't like flying through the snow and, with relief, Hiccup watched as they flew back to scream terrible dragon insults in Dragonese from the warmth of the cave entrance.

Gobber started to pull the boys out of the sea and onto the rocks. Young Vikings are strong swimmers, but it is difficult to keep afloat when you have a basket with a trapped, terrified dragon on your back. Hiccup was the last to be saved- just in time, as the cold was beginning to put him to sleep.

Well, at least that wasn't DEATH, thought Hiccup as Gobber grabbed him by the neck to rescue him, nearly drowning him again in the process- but it certainly wasn't GLORY, either

A/N: Thanks for reading!

So, why does this Berk have raids and girls in the Dragon Initiation Program? If we ignore a few things such as differences in geography and the personalities of and existence of some characters between the bookverse and movieverse, it works out like this:

Books- No Red Death, no Night Furies, -no raids. no girls in the Initiation Program.

Movies- Red Death, Night Furies,- raids, girls in the Initiation Program

In between verse (this story)- No Red Death, yes Night Furies - yes raids, yes girls

In the books, the dragons largely ignore their kidnapped young, except in the beginning when the actual kidnapping takes place. But in this universe, a Night Fury showed up at some point and it is this dragon that convinced the others to raid and take revenge. But as the Shortwings are at the stage where they leave their mothers anyway, it is rare for an adult dragon to target a Viking for taking their offspring, unless dragon gossip spreads and the mother finds out that it is her hatchling who is under Viking control and which Viking captured it.

Since the dragons raid, more warriors are needed to fight, thus girls are accepted into the Dragon Initiation Program, but it is optional.

Why are raids so important in the first place? Because we can't have the feared Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself if there is no reason for Vikings to suspect or care that it exists. Part of the awesomeness and fear factor of Night Furies is their reputation, after all.

Thanks! In the future the A/Ns won't be so long!