I can sigh ^^. Well after 8 month, i finally publish the first chapter of my fic. So, let me tell you more about it. I've decided to write it few days after having seen the movie on last summer (July precisely). The detonator of this fic was a pic on deviant art which represented... no no no i will not tell you what is it, because it will spoil the story XB. Hum hum, so i actually have 5 chapter done and i think the story will reach more than 100 page, but i first need to write it seriously in my language ( french for information^^), so there will not be an update before a moment. I have to say too, i have put all my feelings, all my personality, all me so ^^, in Olrik. So you can say i am Olrik ine the fic. I just post it before some one takes the idea xD. So, i let you enjoy this 1st chapter even if it is short (my bad for that) and if you want comment, as i said on my last story, i would appreciate a lot if you do it on my deviant art profile, knowing that i'm more on DA than here ( I will post this story on DA too and you can found me on it with the same name). I will also post the original french version of my story for French speaking ppl or if you want read my horrible language :B.
Again, my apologize if did mistakes in translation, i'm good but i'm not a god in English. I want to warn you, I used a particular form with the dialogs, and i use he/she/his/her/who for dragons, simply because i consider them like humans not animals, so don't yell at me for that ^^. So, have a nice (short) read ;). A last thing, " *****" represent a flashback or a line.

Like the last time do not steal my characters, or claim as yours or i'll send Justin Bieber sing under your window xD.

Edit: some ppl on deviant art warned me about mistakes i did in grammar and conjugation. I corrected them today. Don't forget, if you notice a mistake, send me a pm, it can only help me to become better for the future ^^. And another information that i forgot: about my mom's Terrible Terror: "Pelote" is the french translation of a wool ball (some one asked my what was it xD) and i also kept french name for 2 other of my oc in the fic. But you need to wait to see who it is ^^.

This is Berk. The coldest and maybe unwelcoming isle of great North. However since seven generations, peoples live here. Peoples? No vikings! This is my village, also known under the name of "Dragon Village" by others vikings tribes. Indeed, we are the first vikings who became ally with the one which was our worst enemies by the past: the Dragons. Yes, we are the firsts which became ally with the most marvellous creature which exist.

We live with them in perfect harmony since one month, and we all owe that to one person: Hiccup, the only son of Stoic the Vast, our actual chief, and who, I hope will be our next chief. Before, it was the war between them and us. They came to pillage us, stealing our sheeps and supplies. But Hiccup has changed everything, not without consequences alas, because during his fight and his victory against the "Red Death", the one which I describe as a parasite which dominated all the dragons, ordering them to stole our supplies to feed herself, he lost a part of his left leg. In the beginning, he had some difficulties with his prosthesis, but around one week later, this "handyman" he is modified it totally, finding again a good mobility and a normal gait. I've been really scared to not see him waking up after this battle. It has to say he stayed unconscious almost two days. Hiccup and I are good friends, despite I'm older than him, and he knows that I consider him like "the little brother I've never had".

Ah, sorry. What a rude boy I am, I haven't introduced myself. I am Olrik Haggerston, the only son of the one who the catch phrase "Strike in the battle as strong as good was your last nap", is engraved until the frontage of his workshop, Sigurd Haggerston , the dressmaker and pillow maker of the village. It can seems stupid, but for my dad, "if a viking wants strike strongly on a battle, he must be in good fettle, and to be in good fettle, he must has a good rest". And effectively, I think our combative fierceness of us, the Hairy Hooligan, comes from my dad's pillows, because a lot of villagers, the night, put their head on my dad's work. He's moreover very appreciated in the village for the quality of his work, on pillows or on clothes.

I'm twenty one. Hiccup is sixteen. A half decade between us so. Our birthdays are at few days of interval, but with five years of difference. And I have to say, that's not the only thing that Hiccup and I have in common. Indeed, I was like him when I had is age: the one who was despised by the others, the one who was never listened or was always persecuted, because I was as puny as him, didn't have muscles and unable to move an hammer. Now, very few things have changed. I'm still unmuscled and I still have difficulties to lift an hammer, but people appreciate me a lot, because I'm very helpful, and I go very often at villagers house to repair their clothes.

It's true that to be the son of Sigurd has some disadvantage, especially the fact my dad wants me to take the shop in the future, but I don't really know if I want this. Making pillows, clothes, repair them, etc etc, well, I begin to be a little bored of that. The only real advantage is that my dad taught to me a lot of sewing skills on a lot of stuff: fabric, leather and same on some thin wood parts. I must be the only male viking of my age to know the art of sew. But it doesn't sucks, at the contrary, I use it as an advantage, especially as I said to repair villagers clothes and gain a good reputation.

One month has passed now since the dragons are in the village, and everything can't be better between them and us. More, a lot of villagers have adopted a dragon. The most popular is the Terrible Terror. Indeed, his small sizes, his cute eyes, make snapped a lot of people, including Stoic, who though was a great dragon fighter by the past. In same time, having Hiccup as son, this last didn't have too much difficulties to convince his father. My mom has got a Terrible Terror too. She called him "Pelote", because this little rascal plays very often to unwind my dad's wool balls, which annoys him sometimes. But even all the drivel he does, my dad likes him because he's very cuddly and more sticky than glue.

Every day, I do my deliveries and repairs in villager's houses, by thinking that I would love to have a dragon too. Which makes me dreaming and a real envy, is to see young viking, sometimes adults flying on dragons around Berk.

Indeed, Stoic gave his agreement to Hiccup to open a kind of flying school, and seen the great number of dragons living in Berk, mounts don't miss. I admire to see them flying, especially Hiccup and Toothless. It's not just his dragon, but a real friend he has. I'm myself deeply passionate by dragons, and it's not recent, far away from this. It have to return almost sixteen years in the past. I was four or five, I don't remember...

*****
"They attack us! Everyone in position, host the torches". That voice was Stoic's one, that I recognized easily even my young age. I heard houses exploding because of Zippleback gas, or peoples who were screaming. I was very fearful and couldn't stay in my house. So, I went out by my bedroom's window, and went under my house, protected from everything, or at least, that's what I believed, because I was going to do the meet which marked without any doubt all my life.

I was shaking of fear under my house, my arms around of my legs, and my head in my arms, when I suddenly heard a little growl. I rose up my head quickly, more afraid. In front of me was a Terrible Terror who found me. I thought that was over for me, that he was going to eat me or burn me. I don't know from where I've had this sudden courage, but at this moment, I looked the little dragon right in his eyes, and I haven't got any words to explain the sensation I felt. I was like "linked" to the dragon mind. I felt a terrible fear, when I suddenly heard a Zippleback who made exploded his gas, before seeing the little dragon shaking and fly away immediately. Was it possible that this fear of the explosions was his? And that he hid here...by fear?

I never knew it, and never talked to everyone of this story. But that was after this night my fascination for them began.

*****
My day ended, with its usual repairs and deliveries done. I was a little tired, and happy this day takes end. However, when I entered in my house, a thing intrigued me a lot. Every evening, Pelote came happily toward me to have a hug, but there, he was slow and winced every time he put his right front paw on the ground.

"Hey what's happening little rascal"? I asked. He was head lowered, so I took him in my arms.
"Daddy scolded you because you unwinded his wool balls again"? He didn't move, like if he felt good in my arms. Besides, when I 'm at home, Pelote passes almost all his time with me. So I took his head to look him, and there, my eyes crossed his ones.

I felt a new this feeling, the same than sixteen years before. A new I was in the dragon's mind. I suddenly felt a pain on the fingernail of my right index. Because of the pain, I dropped Pelote who growled for that. But what was that pain? Where did it come from? Though, I wasn't hurt myself during the day. Suddenly, I think I understood: I felt the pain in my right hand, so the equivalent of the right front paw for dragons. I needed to be sure of it.

I took again Pelote in my arms, and brought him in front of the chimney's fire to see him more clearly. I carefully taken his paw that I supposed wounded. Pelote closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Visibly, his paw really hurt him. Looking more closely, I saw the reason of his torment: he had a small wood piece between his second claw (strangely the equivalent of human index) and his skin.

"Don't move my little rascal, we're going to remove this". I took from my pooch my case of sewing needles and taken two of them.
"Clench your teeth, that might be painful". He obeyed and I began to pass the needles between his skin and his claw. Within five seconds, the wood part was gone.

Pelote has shaken his paw, put it on me, and was surprised to not feel any pain anymore. My little rascal licked my hand, and went sleeping in the little basket my mom has made for him. I was speechless. How was it possible? How I was able to feel the pains of a dragon? Or even their feelings, like the fear of this Terrible Terror sixteen years before? Was it a talent? I didn't have the answer and was deeply confused.

Suddenly, a sweet smell came to my nose. I understood from where this attractive smell came from, when mom brought her luscious vegetable broth on the table.

"Olrik, call your father, he doesn't hear anything when he is in the work shop". She said. My dad's workshop was stuck on our house, but there wasn't a door except the one outside. I entered in the workshop.
"Dad, stop working, it's late. Mom cooked her vegetable broth". My dad was mad of this, more than me, and his response didn't take too long-time to come. He dropped the pillow he had in his hand, blew the candle and locked the workshop.

By eating the broth, I thought about my passion for the dragons, the desire I had when I saw other vikings riding them and what happened with Pelote, and the remains of my meet sixteen years before. The things which happened to me today weren't able to be a simple coincidence, and I understood my life will not sum up to make, repair or stuff pillows or clothes. So, I put my spoon on the table, and rose up.

"Mom, dad, since years, I didn't know what I wanted to do in the future. Today, I've had revelations about what I had to do. I knew you expected a lot from me dad, for the future of the workshop. I will help you, there's no matter about that, and more I'll help you to form the one who will take my place. But my future life will not be with clothes, no"!
"My decision is definitive, mom, dad, I will be with dragons, and like Hiccup and the others, I will be... a dragon tamer"!