Okay, I mentioned I was rewriting this, so here's the revised version. I hope you enjoy!

…

This: Hiccup

This: Himinn

This: Both

A massive island rose out of the water, tall peaks dark against the night sky. Two large statues, presumably of Vikings, were chiseled from stones in what looked like a harbor, torches within them projecting a sense of security.

This, is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing To Death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

I seriously wonder what the HECK our ancestors were THINKING when they wrote those maps.

Yes, thanks, sis. Our village is, in a word, sturdy. It's been here seven generations, but every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems, are the pests.

A small flock of sheep was grazing on a field, completely undisturbed, until a squawk was heard. A large talon came down and clamped around one of the woolly animals, scooping it up into the air with a bleat of terror. Unconcerned, another sheep wandered over to the patch the first sheep had been eating at, and proceeded to greedily finish his leftovers.

I know what you're thinking. But, how could you have pest problems? You're vikings! The main problem, however, is that while most places have mice…

Or worse, mosquitoes…

A boy with auburn hair wearing a green tunic and a fur vest opened the door of his house, just in time to witness several warriors fleeing from a winged, reptilian creature, who was all too happy to attempt arson/murder, starting with the boy. As soon as a glowing blast of fire burst from the beast's mouth, the boy slammed the door, ending out unscathed.

…we have dragons.

More dragons swooped around, releasing streams of heat that sent several men, women, and woolly mammals running for their lives.

Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings.

Yeah! We're strong, we're fierce, and we're courageous! Right, bro?

No. We have stubbornness issues.

…okay, I'll give you that.

A viking sprang onto the head of another dragon with a short, flat snout- flat because the man was pummelling it with a hammer.

The same boy from earlier dashed out of his house, the previous dragon having lit it on fire. He dashed past many other vikings, apparently in quite a hurry to get somewhere, even as another viking landed in front of him.

My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know, but it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls.

We're superstitious that way. Besides, it's not like our charming viking demeanour wouldn't do that- oh, wait…

Hiccup was knocked to the ground by another viking after a blast of lava blew up another person's front door. The guy who had toppled him immediately held his axe above Hiccup's head, screaming a battle cry, before smiling cheerfully and saying, "Morning!".

Yeah, because when it's morning, the moon is brightly lit, and the stars are out! This guy always has too much to drink right before an attack, doesn't he?

Hiccup dashed past many vikings along a wooden pathway, most of whom shouted at him, "What're you doin' here?!", "Get inside!", and "Get back inside!". He did receive a grin, however, from a girl with auburn hair in an ponytail, wearing a purple sleeveless tunic topped with leather gauntlets and shoulderpads, wielding a pair of single-edged swords against a dragon holding a pair of chickens.

The chickens were quickly liberated, as well as one of the dragon's toes.

That's Himinn. She's a proud warrior, considering she's only eighteen-

And she can speak for herself! Yes, I'm a warrior, and I'm also one of three people in the village who actually likes Hiccup, although he's my brother, so I guess I'm a bit prejudiced. I'm also part of a gang of older teens in the village who fight dragons, and attempt to train our younger siblings to do the same- or in our cousin Snotlout's case, get flamed by dragons while flirting.

But she's forbidden to train ME, because 90% of the village thinks I could destroy it by dropping a pebble. Moving on…

Another dragon dove past, stopping Hiccup from proceeding with a wall of flames before the biggest, hairiest, and most muscular viking grabbed him by the neck of his tunic and held him up before the others. "HICCUP! What is he doin' out again- WHAT are you doing out?! Get inside!". He dropped the boy and shoved him in another direction.

That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe.

And a major pain when something ticks him off.

They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off with his shoulders. Do we believe it?

Stoick picked up a barrel and chucked it into the dragon Himinn had fought with before, with the dragon staggering from the sheer force behind the fling, before flapping off again.

Hic does. Me on the other hand, I'm a wee bit sceptical.

Stoick turned to Himinn. "What have we got?" She looked around for a second before replying. "The garden variety stuff. Nadders, Gronckles, Zipplebacks, Nightmares. Oh, and Hoark says he saw a Whispering Death."

Stoick fixed her with a serious glare as another house exploded and a stray spark lit up his left cape clasp. "Any Night Furies?" "Zilch, as far as I know." He nodded and swatted out the flames on his shoulder. "Good."

A shout of "Hoist the torches!" rang out as massive pillars of wood carrying flaming braziers rose into the air, the light of the fire attracting the dragons like moths to… well, a flame.

Hiccup, with his sister following- gosh, she was fast!- ran into what was obviously a forge and received a greeting from a muscular (albeit slightly heavyset) man with a blond, braided beard and a prosthetic arm cleverly fixed with a hammer head on the end. "Nice o' you to join the party! I thought you'd been carried off!"

Hiccup grinned and tied on an apron. "Wha-who-me? Nah, I'm WAY too muscular for their tastes." He flexed, revealing his arms greatly resembled sticks. Wait, no. Sticks were thicker. "They wouldn't know what to do with all… this."

Himinn slid into the shop with a grin. "Well, I'd imagine they need toothpicks, right Gobber?"

Hiccup ran over to a window, which he opened, allowing a few warriors to deposit weapons on the sill, which he scooped up and carried over to a table with… actually not as much difficulty as expected.

The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little.

Since you were littler, technically. You haven't exactly had what we'd call a growth spurt.

True enough, Gobber was changing to a different prosthetic, as Hiccup began working a set of bellows. Himinn ran up to the window and began handling weapons... in her own way. "I don't care if we're under attack, I'm gonna need three gold coins if you want a good edge on that thing!"

Stoick, meanwhile, was leading some warriors down a ramp. "We move to the lower defences! We'll counterattack with the catapults!" They charged for the aerial defence tower as a large, dark-blue dragon flew overhead and blasted a house with lightning.

See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.

It's a miracle half the island is still covered in forest.

Another viking bellowed, "FIRE!", which some kids around Hiccup's age apparently took as a cue, heaving a massive barrel of water and several empty buckets, a blond girl leading them with shouts of "C'mon, you guys, let's move it!" They dropped the barrel and filled their buckets as several teenagers that greatly resembled the apparent 'fire crew' engaged a dragon with two heads that kept blasting houses into rubble.

Oh, and that's Fishlegs, Snotlout, the twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and…

The girl from before put out a fire and began running back for more water as an explosive blast occurred behind her and the other kids. Hiccup's imagination placed this sight into slow motion as the other kids walked behind her with scowls. Hiccup sighed dreamily at the smile he imagined was intended for him.

…Astrid…

Yeah, their job is so much cooler.

Yes, let's have Gobber's only assistant, who helps to repair all our weapons, which we need to fight dragons, go off to fight fires the entire village thinks he'll only make worse! That's a BRILLIANT IDEA!

Shut up, Himinn.

At any rate, I'm friends with the ones fighting the dragon over there. Sasslout, Snotlout's sister, Helen, Fishleg's sister, Scruffnut, Ruff and Tuff's older brother, and the last one is Jardar, my wonderful boyfriend with a talent for throwing knives.

And therefore one of the only vikings who can stand me.

Said boyfriend chucked a throwing knife at a two-header, running over to Himinn. "You've got this?"

She smiled. "Jar, I'll be fine. I've got Hic and Gobber!"

Jardar looked over. "Gobber, if anything happens to her, I'm tying you up and using you as a target to teach Hiccup how to throw knives."

Gobber shrugged. "Fair enough."

Jardar smirked and pecked Himinn on the forehead. "Gotta go. I owe a Whispering Death a few bleeding slash marks. And maybe a broken wing. See you later, Hiccup." He took off.

Hiccup immediately made to climb out the window, but Gobber noticed and grabbed him by the tunic. "Oh no, ye don't!" Hiccup moaned miserably. "Come on, please, I need to make my mark!" Gobber smirked and set him down. "Oh, you've made plenty o' marks! All in the wrong places!" Hiccup began pleading. "Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon, my life will get infinitely better, I might even get a date!"

Himinn's matter-of-fact tone was probably more along the lines of deadpan. "I'm the only girl in the village who doesn't despise you, and I'm your sister."

Gobber began counting on his fingers. "Ye can't lift a hammer, ye can't swing an axe…" He held up a bola. "… ye can't even throw one o' these!" Sasslout, who had been fighting the two-header, grabbed the bola and flung it, nailing a fatter dragon. "Thanks, Gob! Hey, Himinn!"

"Hey, Sass! You'd better get in here soon, your axe is looking dull!"

"Got it!"

Hiccup ignored this interaction, preferring to focus on Gobber. "Alright, fine, but this will throw it for me." He patted a wooden device on a wagon he affectionately called 'The Mangler'. The device promptly went off, shooting a bola over Himinn's head, and bashing another viking into unconsciousness. Gobber glared and began walking towards him, angrily gesturing towards the Mangler. "See, now this right here, is what I'm talkin' about!"

Himinn sighed. "Hiccup, you've really gotta fix that calibration issue!"

Gobber sighed. "Hiccup. If you ever want to get out there, and fight dragons, you need to stop all…" He simply gestured at him. "…this." "But you just pointed to all of me!" Gobber smiled. "Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you." "Ohh…" Hiccup murmured. Gobber smirked. "Ohh, yeah." Hiccup pointed at him. "You, you sir are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much… raw, vikingness contained? There will be consequences!"

His ever-supportive sister strode over from the window. "We'll take our chances." She tossed over her weapons. "Swords. Sharpen. Now."

He lugged the swords over to a sharpening wheel, fantasizing as he did.

One day I'll get out there. Because killing a dragon, is everything around here.

A group of birdlike dragons- two legs, wings, and a long prickly tail were herding a group of sheep.

A Nadder head will at least get Hiccup noticed.

A group of fatter dragons with hummingbird wings were eating the fish-drying racks- the whole things, not just the fish.

Gronckles are tough. One of those'll definitely get him at least a date.

Another dragon, this one two-headed, was spraying thick green gas into a the open door of a house.

Hideous Zippleback? Exotic, exciting, explosive. Two heads get you twice the status.

The dragon's second head, hanging over a hole in the roof, spat out some sparks into the gas, and the dragon flew away, a silhouette against a brilliant explosion.

The blue dragon from before suddenly landed, static electricity rippling off every scale. A beam of voltage escaped its jaws, stunning every viking within range, before a flap of its wings launched it back into the sky.

The Skrill. A powerful dragon that flies through storms, eats the lightning, and vomits it up on us. You don't wanna fight that thing, trust me.

Meanwhile, Jardar was letting out the Hooligan battle cry, swinging a random mace at a snakelike dragon covered in spines.

Whispering Death. These things are fierce, silent killers with rotating razor teeth, spines, and explosive flame rings. Grown men wet their pants at the memory of these things- if they're lucky enough to survive.

Up in a catapult tower, Stoick's small group was still fighting the raiders off. "They've found the sheep!" Stoick nodded. "Concentrate fire over the lower bank!" Two other vikings spun the catapult into position. "FIRE!"

A Nadder quickly discovered what boulders taste like.

Then, another dragon, using its wings as front legs to scale the tower burst through a few wooden planks, until Stoick ran up to it. The gigantic reptile burst into flames. An unimpressed viking chief began hitting it in the face with a hammer.

The Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best vikings- and me- go after those. You see, they have this nasty habit of… setting themselves on fire.

The Nightmare also discovered what stone tasted like, after receiving a double whammy and flying off.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one's ever seen. We call it the…

A shrill whistle was heard by the whole village as one viking let out a scream. "NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!"

A shadow, barely seeable shot through the air, a single purple fireball annihilating the catapult tower, Stoick and the others barely escaping.

That thing never steals food, never shows itself, and-

Another blast toppled what was left of the tower, as though the dragon was mocking them.

…never misses.

No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why I'm gonna be the first.

You see, you say that, but I'm not really certain you know what you're committing to.

Hiccup ran over to Gobber, who had replaced his prosthetic with on adorned with an axe. "Man the fort, Hiccup. They need me out there." He ran out the door, stopping only to turn back and say, "Stay. Put. There."

Hiccup smiled innocently.

"You know what I mean. Himinn, make sure he stays in the forge." And with that, he charged into battle, shouting the Hooligan (for that was their tribe) battle cry- the most inappropriate word he knew, screamed at the top of his lungs.

Hiccup looked at Himinn, who smiled mischievously. "I have gone temporarily blind and deaf, and will have no idea if you, say, take the Mangler to a cliff and shoot down a dragon." Hiccup grabbed the Mangler and wheeled it out of the forge, muttering a thank-you into Himinn's ear as he passed. He dashed through the village, happily ignoring everyone that told him to "Get inside!"

He even ran past Stoick, who was throwing a net over three Nadders, wrestling one to the ground as she got her head loose. "Mind yourselves! The devils still have some juice in them!"

Meanwhile, Hiccup had successfully gotten the Mangler to the highest cliff he could get to, and quickly set it up to fire, gazing hopefully into the dark sky. "C'mon, gimme something to shoot at, gimme something to shoot at…"

He looked around in the sky as a low, banshee-like moan built up- the Night Fury was coming in for another attack. He carefully aimed, hoping the dragon would appear in the night sky.

One purple fireball later, a building exploded, and that was when the Night Fury made a fatal mistake- it flew in front of the explosion, giving Hiccup a clear view of its silhouette.

He couldn't miss.

The recoil from the Mangler caused him to fall backwards, but it was so worth seeing the beautiful sight of the bola flying beyond his vision, colliding with something, before the pained screech of the dragon rang out for his ears to drink in, the barely visible shape falling towards Raven Point.

Hiccup gaped in astonishment before breaking out in a cheer. "I hit it… YES! I HIT IT! Did anyone see that?!"

A burbling growl was heard behind him, and he turned around just in time to see a Monstrous Nightmare crush his prized weapon, glaring at him through half-lidded eyes.

And thus came the sarcastic remark. "Except for you."

Stoick looked up from his work (turning flat-faced Gronckles into pancake-faced Gronckles) just in time to hear a high-pitched scream. He looked up and noticed Hiccup running away from the Nightmare he had encountered.

"Oh, joy."

He spun at the sound and spotted Himinn fending off a Gronckle. "You were supposed to watch him!"

She stared innocently. "I was watching him at all times. I don't know how he got past me…"

Stoick glared. "Just go save his neck, will ya?"

Himinn grinned. "Keep-Hiccup-away-from-the-dragon. My favourite game. HYAAHHH!" She unsheathed her freshly sharpened swords and took off.

Hiccup, meanwhile, ran behind one of the tall torches, attempting to hide (panic does things to a person), shivering in terror as the Nightmare began curving around the structure…

Only to be punched in the face by its prey's angry sister.

"Stay offa him, lizard!"

The dragon snarled, opened its mouth, and spewed fire, scorching the torch. It fired again, but only coughed up a few orange drops.

Himinn smirked. "You're all out. DIE!" She lashed out, slicing into the Nightmare's hide. The flying reptile roared and took off, unwilling to fight after sustaining an injury.

Oh, and there's one more thing you need to know.

The torch crashed to the ground, the flames having weakened the wood too much. The brazier on top fell off and rolled through the village. Captive dragons took flight as their restrainments were scorched. The Nadders Stoick had trapped all flew free, clutching sheep in their talons.

And of course, all eyes turned to Hiccup, Stoick's stern gaze seeming to bore holes in his skull.

"Sorry… dad"

…