A/N

This is an AU story of how Hiccup's life could have turned out if he failed to shoot down Toothless when he did.

Also, I'm looking for a Beta to read over my content before I post it and help me work through any issues, I've not written a story in about ten years so I need all the help I can get. If you're interested, please PM me.

Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon. However, if DreamWorks would like to hand Toothless over, I'd be much obliged.

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Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day was going to be a good one.

He woke up in his comfortable bed and listened to the birds chirping in the trees by his window. It wasn't often one could enjoy such a simple sound on Berk, so Hiccup made sure to savour the moment for as long as he could. He liked to imagine being a bird sometimes, the freedom they have to just fly off anywhere they wish must be amazing. His morning bliss was broken, however, by a loud shout.

"Hiccup! Breakfast."

"Coming, dad."

Hiccup sat up, stretched himself like a cat, whipped his legs around and stood up. He took one step towards his wardrobe, before tripping over the boots he'd left haphazardly by his bed the night before and fell to the floor with a crash.

Downstairs, Stoick the Vast, Chief of Berk, heard the usual sound of his one and only child falling to the ground and let out a long-suffering sigh. He congratulated himself on choosing to use strong oak to rebuild their house after it was destroyed yet again in a raid, if he hadn't he was sure there'd be a Hiccup sized hole in the ceiling.

Upstairs, Hiccup peeled himself off the floor, dusted himself off, and began to dress for the day. Okay, sure, he'd tripped over, but he did that most mornings, and at least this time he didn't land on his nose. Still a pretty good morning, in his book. Fully dressed, he looked down at the familiar green tunic he wore with pride. All Heirs of Berk had worn a green tunic, and Hiccup was happy he could continue that tradition, at least.

Hiccup made his way downstairs and greeted his father. Stoick grunted a greeting to his son, and lazily motioned him towards the table where his breakfast was waiting, before returning to his whittling. Hiccup sat in his usual seat, legs dangling a good few feet off the floor, and inspected the morning's offerings. Burnt porridge. Again. Well, beggars can't be choosers, and Hiccup eagerly tucked into the meal his father had made him. It wasn't often that the Chief of Berk took time out of his busy schedule to make his son breakfast, so Hiccup would have eaten one of the floorboards if his father presented it to him in a dish. In fact, he was pretty sure he had in fact been fed this after a particularly late raid, but nevertheless, nothing was going to spoil his mood today, he was sure of it.

Once he was sure his scrawny son had finished his meal, and gods knew how difficult that particular task was, Stoick set aside his whittling tools and stood, clearing his throat. Hiccup immediately put his spoon into his empty bowl, and ran it to the washbasin, before scuttling back to his seat and looking up at his father with wide eyes.

Stoick nodded his approval. Attentiveness, good. Perhaps his son was finally growing an attention span larger than a sparrow's.

Stoick walked a few large steps toward the downstairs cupboard, and rummaged around until he had found what he was looking for "Aha!". Turning, he hid the item behind his, of course, vast back, and looked upon his heir.

"Well, son, today is the big day. 15! Odin knows I never thought you'd make it this far, especially not after the disaster that was your last birthday".

Hiccup blushed and mumbled something that to Stoick sounded suspiciously like "mild-calibration issue", banned words in their house, before looking back at his father.

Stoick continued "And so, I suppose it is time I placed a bit of trust in you. Despite many of the villager's concerns, warnings and none-too-subtle threats of maiming at best, death at worst, I believe it is about time for your first weapon."

Hiccup gasped in surprise. "Really? But I thought you said that the day you gave me a weapon would be the day you made the journey to Valhalla?"

"Aye…I did say that….but Hiccup, this is important. You are my son, the heir to Berk, and you need to start being more like us. Which means you walk like us, talk like us, act like us. No more of….this."

Hiccup looked down at where his father's meaty hand had pointed. "But you just gestured to all of me."

Stoick nodded once, eyes boring down upon his son.

Hiccup sighed "Okay, so what did you get me? Ooh, is it a war-hammer like yours? Or maybe an axe, like the one Astrid has, she's bound to be impressed if I…"

Stoick interrupted his son's ramble and produced a small dagger, almost completely hidden in his large hand.

"….had a really tiny knife. Come on, dad, surely I can handle something a bit bigger than this?"

Stoick growled out "Like the time you stabbed me in the arm when you tried to pick up my sword?"

Hiccup flared up in indignation "I was six! It was twice as big as me!"

Stoick wearily brought a hand to his forehead "Yes, Hiccup, and at that age I could use any weapon given to me. You, on the other hand, have yet to convince me that you don't need my supervision when using a knife and fork!"

Hiccup looked down at his feet, shame rising through his body. He didn't need to be reminded how, well, different he was to his father. Where Stoick the Vast was the tallest, strongest, toughest Viking Berk had ever seen, Hiccup, well, wasn't. He was a fishbone, or at least that's what everyone called him, and he couldn't wield a weapon to save his life. He knew, he'd tried. So Hiccup focused on his brain, forever building things that would wield the weapons for him and improve Berk's chances in the almost-nightly raids on the village. The only problem was, they never worked. Hiccup was sure he was cursed. He'd create a new invention, like the axe-thrower (Hiccup shuddered involuntarily at the memory), and the initial testing would go fine, great even, but as soon as he excitedly wheeled it out for field use, it all went horribly wrong, and he received the now customary dressing-down from his father in front of the whole village.

But Hiccup was certain that one day, he'd create something that would work, and his father would finally say those words he'd longed to hear his whole life: "I'm proud of you, son". The Bola-Launcher he'd created, hidden away at the forge, was sure to be his ticket to greatness.

Hiccup shook himself out of his musings and looked back up into his father's expectant face "Thanks, dad. This is great. And hey, maybe you can show me how to use it? We could head out-"

Stoick laughed, a booming laugh that shook the very foundations of their home "Show you? Hiccup, you don't need to be shown how to use it. It's a dagger, for Odin's sake! And besides, you are my son, it should be instinctual for you."

Hiccup tried to reason with his father "But, what if-"

"Now, I need to go and deal with the village. It's been a few days since the last raid, and we're due one. It is my job as Chief to ensure that we are prepared. If you're so unsure on how to use your dagger, maybe one of your friends could show you?"

With that, Stoick the Vast walked past his son, favouring him with a fatherly pat on the head, and squeezed his way out of the door.

Hiccup stared after the retreating form of his father "But….I don't have any friends".

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day was a little disappointing.

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Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day still had the potential to be a good one.

Hiccup walked sullenly into the forest, kicking up dirt as he did so. Was it too much to ask that his dad take, say, an hour out of his day for him? But no, even his father didn't want to spend time with "Hiccup the Useless". But, was it even his fault? Sure, okay, he wasn't big and strong like the other Vikings. But neither is Astrid! They're pretty much the same size, even if Astrid could rival Snotlout in strength, but still. She was amazing with her axe, and why was that? Because she was taught how to use it! Her parents showed her the correct stance, grip, application of force, everything she'd need to know, and from there she practised every day with it until she was perfect.

But Hiccup? He was always left alone to struggle, and whenever he'd try to show people they'd laugh and call him useless. So he just stopped trying. Hiccup didn't think himself wrong, anyone would try and stem the harsh words and jeers anyway they could, right? And if trying, and failing, to use a weapon brought him nothing but hate, then he wouldn't try to. But, he owed it to himself, and to his father, to at least try and master the use of this dagger. He'd spend all day out here practicing if he had to.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, his thoughts caused him to not pay attention to where he was going until it was nearly too late. All he heard was a mighty scream, the slight whistling of displaced air, and a thud.

Hiccup, who reared his head back and had closed his eyes so tightly he feared Gobber would need to come and wrench them back open, threw his hands up in surrender. He didn't know who was attacking him, but he just hoped they would have mercy. Footsteps approached from his right, and Hiccup carefully shuffled around until he was facing that direction.

"Hiccup? Is that you?"

Hiccup's eyes opened in a flash, Gobber wouldn't be needed today. There, standing before him, was the most beautiful girl in all of Midgard: Astrid Hofferson. Even now, stalking towards him with a scowl etched on her face, Hiccup felt the usual quickening of his heart and moisture gathering in his palms.

"H-Hi Astrid. Hi. Astrid. Hi Astrid!". Hiccup glanced behind him at the axe that was embedded in a tree trunk, not a foot away from where his head had been not a minute before. Well, only one near-death experience so far, and now Astrid Hofferson was standing before him in all her glorious beauty. This day was looking up for one Hiccup Horrendous Haddock.

"Hiccup, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the forge where Gobber can keep an eye on you?" Astrid came to a stop in front of him, her hands resting on her hips that were cocked to one side. Gods, she was beautiful. And angry. She always seemed to be angry at him these days. It was a far change from when they were children, they were always playing together.

"Uhm, well, the thing is A-Astrid, it's my birthday and, well, my father got me t-this" He held the dagger out towards her, tactfully giving her a chance to wish him a happy birthday and exclaim over how great his present was.

Astrid glanced down, once, at the dagger, before her eyes returned to staring at his.

"So? Rather than, I don't know, using it, you decided to just silently wander the forest where anything could happen to you?"

Hiccup blushed "Wow Astrid, I didn't know you cared so-"

"I don't."

Hiccup swallowed his disappointment down "Oh. Well, that's fine. I was just coming out here to learn how to use it and-"

Astrid scoffed "You're telling me you don't know how to use a dagger? Hiccup, I learned how to throw one of those perfectly when I was ten. How can you not know?" She stared at him, baffled at how the Chief's son could be so pathetic.

Hiccup looked down at his feet and muttered: "It's not like anyone would show me."

Astrid sighed and looked at the boy in front of her. Rail-thin, like a wisp of smoke that could be blown away at any moment, and numerous cuts and bruises on his hands and face from God's knew what calamity. She couldn't believe this boy, Hiccup the Useless, would one day be in charge of the village. He rubbed his arm and awkwardly shuffled his feet. Well, she supposed it was his birthday, the least Astrid could do was cheer him up a bit. His wounded dragon look was annoying her, anyhow.

"Well listen, Hiccup, maybe it's a good thing. At least this way, you won't go charging in on the next raid and get someone hurt again."

Apparently, this did not do the job of cheering him up. Instead, his head dropped to his chest, and he heaved a sigh out. Did he ever stop sighing?

Hiccup looked up at her again, sadness in his eyes "Astrid, I-"

She tried again "Hiccup, listen to me. Fighting and using weapons just aren't your strong points. That's for the real Vikings to do. You're good at…Okay, I don't know what you're good at, but I'm sure there's something you can do that doesn't cause a disaster."

Hiccup looked at his feet again. Okay, that hurt. He was good at some things! Maybe not the things that he should be good at, like fighting, hunting and killing dragons, but still. He thought back to the conversation with his father from that morning. Dad said that he needed to be more like everyone else. And the people of Berk were nothing if not brave, right? He could be brave. He steeled himself, and looked into those striking blue eyes of the girl he, well, was very fond of.

"I used to be good at being your friend, Astrid."

Astrid blinked once in shock. She had not expected him to say that. She felt the usual exasperation build inside her whenever she had to deal with Hiccup, something she usually avoided with her usual perfection.

"Hiccup, that was a long time ago. Before you started messing things up all the time and embarrassing me. How could I become Berk's finest warrior with you holding me back constantly?"

Hiccup reeled, Astrid's harsh words had hit him harder and more painfully than any dragon could ever hope to. "Bu-but you were my best friend, Astrid. My only friend. All I want is for us to spend time together again, like we used to."

Astrid shook her head "Hiccup, we will never be friends again. You're just a, well, a hiccup."

With that, she walked past the shell-shocked boy and wrenched her axe out of the tree. She wiped the sap from the tree off the head, and without looking back at Hiccup, walked away.

Hiccup stood where she had left him for Gods knew how long. He replayed the words she had spoken over and over again in his head "We will never be friends again".

Hiccup shook himself out of his thoughts, and stared down at the forgotten dagger, still dangling from his fingertips. He felt a bubbling pit of anger surging through his body, and with all his might, he threw it at the same tree that Astrid's axe had settled in. The blade spun, coursing through the air with deadly force.

It missed.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day was definitely not a good one.

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Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day was awful.

He'd returned from the woods, after spending at least an hour looking for where his new dagger had landed, and headed to the forge to see Gobber. The old blacksmith always managed to put some sort of smile on his face, and Hiccup felt more at home at the forge, bantering back and forth with his two-limbed friend. The visit was soured somewhat by Gobber having no idea it was Hiccup's birthday "Ah, I'm sorry, lad. I thought it was next week. You leave it to old Gobber, and you'll get a cracker of a present, just you wait." Hiccup left the forge with a slight spring in his step, ideas over what Gobber would get him racing through his mind.

Once evening came, Hiccup made his way up the hill towards the Mead Hall. He was dreading it. Birthday celebrations were always held in the hall, so everyone on Berk could join in the festivities and wish the lucky soul a good day. And every year on Hiccup's birthday was the most painfully unneeded celebration you could imagine. None of the villagers would be there if his father didn't practically bribe them with the best food he could buy. He wondered to himself why his father even bothered, it's not like this year would be any different. In fact, he was sure it would be worse.

Hiccup reached the huge doors of the hall and struggled to push them open. As it turned out, Silent Sven happened to be exiting the hall at the same time, and when he wrenched the door inwards, Hiccup was thrown through the doorway and landed with a slight bounce in the centre of the hall.

All eyes turned towards the Chief's son, with whispers and barely-hidden laughter dogged the boy as he made his way to his father's table, his face red from embarrassment. Stoick the Vast sat at the head of the table, able to see everyone in the hall at all times, as is a Chieftain's wont. Sitting with him was Gobber, who gave Hiccup a cheery hooked wave, Spitelout, his uncle, who gave the still red-faced teen a small smile, and Spitelout's son, Snotlout, who was openly pointing and laughing at the latest misfortune to befall his useless cousin.

As Hiccup sat beside his father, Stoick stood and clapped his hands once to gather everyone's attention.

"Settle down, settle down. Thank you all for joining my son and I-" he clapped Hiccup on the back, nearly sending the boy headfirst into the table "in his birthday celebration. I'm sure you're all dying to wish him well!" At this, the hall turned deathly quiet. One of Mildew's sheep could be heard bleating in the far off distance. Hiccup tried his hardest to extract himself from his father's grasp and slide under the table, where he could die from mortification in peace. Stoick coughed once "But, before all that, maybe it's time to eat!" A great cheer went up from everyone in the hall "Only the finest meats and ales for my only child's birthday".

A rush of footsteps was heard as everyone made their way towards the banquet table, Stoick leading the ravenous pack. Hiccup felt a hand grasp his shoulder, much softer than his father's and filled with affection. He followed the hand to the face of his uncle. Spitelout grinned at his nephew "Happy birthday, son. Why, you haven't changed a bit since you were a toddler! Still the same size at least..." he winked at Hiccup, showing him that his words were meant to be taken lightly. He tapped Snotlout on the shoulder, and made a motion with his hand. Snotlout scowled, and reached down under the table, extracting a large package. He handed it to his cousin, and, being Snotlout, held on slightly when Hiccup tried to take it before letting go and nearly causing the smaller boy to fall off the bench. Spitelout glared at his son, before turning kinder eyes to his nephew "Well go on, open it up son."

Hiccup held up the package, inspecting it. It was shaped like a half-circle and was quite light. He tore off the minimal wrapping paper and looked upon his gift. A bow. He looked up at his uncle in confusion.

"It's a bow, Hiccup." Spitelout grinned at the boy.

Hiccup rolled his eyes "Really? I thought it was a fishing boat. Why have you given me a bow, uncle? N-not that I'm not grateful, but...me? A weapon? Have you been hit in the head a few too many times?".

Spitelout roared with laughter and ruffled the boy's hair. He explained himself over the boy's squawking protest "Well you see, I figured that a bow would be a lot easier for you to use than a close-quarter weapon. It's lighter, you see, and it'll keep you away from the thick of the action but you'll still be able to help out."

Hiccup glanced down at the bow, and back up at Spitelout. He smiled, a true smile, and asked "But where did you get it? Did you make it?"

Spitelout's smile became watery, and he sighed, before running his hand over the bow "Aye, I did son. A long time ago, for someone very special." He glanced up into Hiccup's eyes "I made it for your mother on her 15th birthday." His eyes became glazed as thought back to years ago, to happier times when he and his sister Valka would spend much of their time together.

Hiccup's eyes widened "Wow, I didn't know mum used a bow. I always figured she used a hammer or an axe, like dad."

Spitelout smirked "Aye, she was a slender thing, your mother, not built for in-close fighting like the rest of us. You're built much the same as her, you know. Some people seem to forget that" he turned his head, eyes resting on the form of Stoick the Vast, who was gorging himself with on an entire boar.

Hiccup turned to where his uncle was looking, before turning grateful eyes back to the man "Thank you, uncle."

Gobber tapped his hook against the table, drawing Hiccup's attention "Hey now, don't you be forgetting about old Gobber. I promised you a cracker of a present, and that is what you shall receive". With this, the old blacksmith withdrew a quiver, filled to the brim with arrows. He handed them over to Hiccup, who smiled in joy at his friend.

"Made the tips from Gronckle iron, I did. You don't want to know the bother I went through to get that, I can tell you."

Hiccup laughed softly, and turned his face up to the man "You're the best, Gobber."

"I know I am, lad".

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day had just gotten a whole lot better.

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Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day was drawing to a close.

He'd begged off the party relatively early, once it was obvious that the only people who actually cared that it was his party were Gobber, Spitelout and his father, perhaps. He made his way home and up the stairs to his room. He walked over to the window and looked out at the stars. The sky was clear tonight. He placed his bow and arrows in the corner of his room, and he couldn't wait to go out tomorrow and practice with it. How he'd do that when he didn't have the slightest clue how to use it was anyone's guess, but Hiccup was nothing if not determined. With a yawn, he kicked off his boots, right next to his bed as always, and lay fully-clothed on top of his bed. He laid his head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

"This day wasn't so bad after all."

BOOM

Hiccup shot out of his bed, feeling the floor shake at the sudden noise. He ran to the window after picking himself up off the floor after he'd yet again tripped over his shoes and looked out over the village. The sky was blazing with fire. A raid! The warning horn sounded, and he could hear all the warriors emerging from the Mead Hall. Hiccup panicked, wondering what he should do. His father was always telling him to stay inside and out of the way whenever the dragon's raided, but surely they needed him out there? The thought had no sooner entered his mind when a sword flew through the air and embedded itself into the side of a Deadly Nadder. It dropped to the ground like a stone.

Okay, maybe they didn't need him, but Gobber would, right? He'd had quite a lot to drink, and would need his help at the forge. Hiccup ran to his boots, yanking them onto his feet, not being entirely sure if he'd put them the right way around. No matter, he didn't have the time to check. He ran down the stairs and burst through the door, expertly weaving through the villagers.

He arrived at the forge, where Gobber was manning the counter, throwing weapons out to everyone who had need of them.

"I'm here, I'm here, what do you want me to do?"

Gobber turned and smiled slightly at his apprentice. If he was going to go out during a raid, at least he'd had the sense to come here where Gobber could keep an eye over him. And let's be honest here, he kind of needed Hiccup around, especially when he'd had a few jugs of mead.

"Swords, sharpen, now." Hiccup nodded and began to turn the grinder that sharpened the weapons. The two worked together in perfect sync for a while, until an unmistakable screech was heard. A Night Fury! Not a second after the sound came the explosion from its plasma blast. Hiccup heard the screams, and Gobber changed his hook hand around for his hammer.

"They need me out there, Hiccup. Make sure you stay in here and be safe, got it?" Hiccup nodded fervently at the blacksmith, and Gobber ran out of the forge with a war cry. Hiccup carried on his task of sharpening the swords for, oh, a good thirty seconds before he glanced back out of the doorway. A Night Fury. If there was anything a Viking valued, it was the ability to bring down and kill a dragon. Just imagine, he, Hiccup the Useless, being the one to bring down the dreaded Night Fury. Hiccup stopped what he was doing as a brainwave hit him. Spitelout and Gobber had given him just what he needed to bring it down! It was his destiny, Hiccup was sure of it. Why else would there be a dragon attack the very day he was given his bow and arrow, the same bow his mother had used herself. Hiccup nearly danced with glee and turned to look for his bow. That is, until he realised that he'd ran out of the house without it.

Hiccup groaned, trust him to fail to achieve his destiny thanks to forgetfulness. If only he had something that could shoot down that dragon, he'd be a hero! The village would worship him, his father would be proud of him, Astrid would love him...the Bola! Of course! Okay, it had some mild-calibration issues, but it was still usable. In a flash, Hiccup ran to the back of the forge to his own private workshop and tore the cover off his contraption. He unlocked the brakes on the wheels and tore out of the forge towards the cliffside.

He arrived at his vantage point, eyes carefully scanning the night sky. He couldn't see a thing, but he knew, he just knew, that it was his destiny to shoot down that Night Fury. He gave the bola a gentle pat "You're going to make me famous". But of course, anything that involved Hiccup was destined to end in tragedy, and Hiccup's gentle, almost feather-weighted touch had set the bola off. He watched as the bola shot forward, failing to release and causing it to snap back and ensnare Hiccup himself. The Night Fury was gone.

"Oh great. At least no one saw that."

Hiccup wished he'd kept his big mouth shut. Not a second after those fateful words had been said, he heard a growl from behind him. Awkwardly shuffling until he could see behind him, he saw the sight no Viking ever wanted to see. A Monstrous Nightmare, covered in flames and staring at Hiccup with murderous intent. And Hiccup couldn't help but realise that he was all alone with this frightful beast, and, just his luck, he was trapped and wrapped like a present, ready to be taken off and devoured.

"HELP! SOMEONE! HELP!". His cries startled the dragon, and it raced forward, ready to end Hiccup's pathetic existence. Hiccup struggled against the ropes, desperately trying to free himself. That's when he remembered the dagger. He managed to pull it out of his pocket, not the safest place to keep it, but it would do for now. He slashed at the ropes and managed to free himself, just in time for the dragon to pounce. Hiccup curled into himself, trying to give as much protection as he could from what was to come. His eyes slammed shut, and he screamed in terror.

Hiccup heard a furious shout, and then the sound of meaty flesh slamming against scales. He dared to open his eyes a fraction and saw none other than his father, Stoick the Vast, who had come to save his son yet again. The dragon had reared back a safe distance from Hiccup, and Stoick advanced upon the beast. The Nightmare tried to burn him to a crisp, but all that came out was a few sparks. Stoick chuckled at the beast "You're all out." With those words, he dove, attacking the dragon with fists, feet and, Hiccup would swear on it until the day he died, his teeth. Eventually, the Chief dove onto the Dragon's back, pinning it down in time for others to arrive and tie it down.

Hiccup breathed for what felt like the first time in minutes, and relief washed over the boy. He turned to his father "Looks like this dagger came in handy-" he cut himself off, only just noticing the furious glare his father had leveled him with. Stoick stalked over to his son until he was standing directly over him. "Tell me what happened. Now."

Hiccup looked at his dad's stormy expression and told him everything. How he wanted to bring down the Night Fury, how he'd used his bola-launcher, but it had backfired and snared him instead, and then the Nightmare had shown up. All throughout Hiccup's tale, the surrounding villagers listened in silence, until he reached the end and they all burst out laughing.

"You?! Bring down a Night Fury?! That'll be the day."

"Imagine it, Hiccup the Useless, scourge of the Night Fury."

"This is our future Chief?! He's got his shoes on the wrong feet, for Odin's sake!"

Hiccup stood, listening to the words, feeling the pain they caused him to wash over him. Stoick looked at the ground, knowing what the villagers were saying was true. He turned to Gobber as the blacksmith hobbled his way over "Take him home, Gobber. And make sure he stays there."

Gobber walked over to the boy, and laid his one remaining hand on his shoulder, leading him away. They passed by the other teenagers, who one by one jeered the lad even more, led of course by Hiccup's own cousin. The boy didn't look up, didn't reply, until a female voice said "Just like I said. A hiccup." Hiccup's head shot up, and he stared disbelievingly at the face of Astrid Hofferson. Never before had she joined in the jeering, usually preferring to just glare at the Chief's son before turning her nose up at him. Hiccup looked away from the face that dominated his dreams and wearily continued walking home.

They arrived at the door to his home, and Hiccup laid his hand on the doorknob.

Gobber stopped him and asked, "What were you thinking, lad?"

Hiccup turned to the man and stared him in the eyes "I just wanted to be like everyone else Gobber. I just wanted to be a Viking." He turned and opened the door, swiftly closing it behind him. He leaned against the hard wood, and slid down onto the floor.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock's day was the worst day of his life.

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A/N

Okay, so that's the very first chapter of my very first story. Stick with me, I've got a plan. I think. Please follow, review, and have a great day.