How Lenora Trains Her Dragon

Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon

Long ago, there was a village called Berk. It was twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It was located solidly on meridian of misery. The village was, in a word, sturdy. It had been there for seven generations, but every single house on that heaven-forsaken rock was new. The villagers enjoyed fishing, hunting and charming view of the sunsets. Berk's only problem was the pests. While other villages had mice or mosquitos, Berk had dragons.

Dragons had been Berk's problem for over three hundred years. There was rarely a night when the dragons didn't raid Berk for its livestock and food. Most people would leave a place that was a dragon's raiding target, but not the people of Berk. They were Vikings, and all Vikings have stubbornness issues—all of them.

Probably one of the most stubborn Vikings was seventeen-year-old Lenora Horrendous Haddock the Third, the only daughter of Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Tribe. Lenora's name was an odd one, considering her people, but it wasn't the worse. Parents often believed a hideous name would frighten off gnomes or trolls, or an odd name would define their child's character when they grew up. Lenora's name in English meant "light" as her mother had hoped she'd be the light of the village. However, in Latin, it meant "foreign, the other," which couldn't have described her more accurately as Lenora was unlike anyone in Berk, both in looks, skills and personality.

It had been a quiet night when Lenora was suddenly awoken by a dragon's roar. They were being raided by dragons again. Quickly, she dressed and ran out into the village, heading straight for the blacksmith's stall. She ignored the protests of the other villagers, who screamed at her to get back inside, while she narrowly dodged the dragons' fire. She was nearly there, when Stoick grabbed her by the back of her shirt and hoisted her up.

"Lenora!" he yelled. "What're you doing out here? Who let you out of the house?"

"Dad, I know you don't like me leaving the house during raids, but Gobber's going to need my help!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Would you put me down, please?"

Stoick sighed. "Fine, but you go straight to Gobber's and you stay there, got it?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Good. Now go," he barked, as he put her down.

Lenora sighed as she continued onwards to Gobber's. Having Stoick for a father was both an honor and difficult as while Lenora was very proud of him, being his daughter meant she had a lot to live up to. Stoick was overprotective of Lenora and he wasn't called the Vast for nothing. He was huge, strong both in muscle and heart, and the finest warrior in all of Berk. It was said when Stoick was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off its shoulders. Lenora believed this. It was difficult not to when she'd seen him in action.

Lenora finally made to Gobber's after a few more moments.

"Nice of you to join the party, lass!" said Gobber. "I thought you'd been carried off."

Lenora smiled as she put on her apron and gloves before setting to work. "Who, me? No, come on. I'm way too bony for their taste," she joked.

"Well, they do need toothpicks, don't they?" joked Gobber, making them both laugh.

Lenora was unlike the other girls in her village. While other girls had hair of red, black or gold which was either up in a bun or pigtails, Lenora's hair was a dull brown and she kept in a single braid down her back, just past her ribs. She was pretty, but it was a far cry from some other village girls' beauty. She was also as skinny as a twig; she lacked the physical strength other Vikings did and was the village klutz.

Lenora wasn't allowed to participate in helping with the dragon raids. Instead, she was apprenticed to Gobber, the village blacksmith, who was also her father's best friend and her godfather, and had been ever since she was a young child. He'd lost his left hand and right foot to dragons. He trained the trainees, was a source of advice to any who needed it and a great storyteller to anyone who had time to listen. He was the only one in the entire village that Lenora was close to, as she was something of the village reject, she didn't have any close friends her own age, and she lacked the close relationship she longed to have with Stoick due to his inability to cope with Lenora's differences and talk things out and listen. To everyone except Gobber, she was known as Lenora the Useless. And while she loved having Gobber as her godfather and their relationship, she longed for just a little more in life.

Lenora winced as the sounds of the dragon raid hit her. She hated the dragon raids. Houses were constantly burned down, sometimes there were lives lost and she always feared for the life of her father when he was out there protecting the village. Working in the forge helped quell her fears a little. She may not have been allowed to help fight in the raids, but she was quite good when it came to blacksmithing. She made countless weapons and shields for her people. She finished a hammer for him just as Hoark, one of the warriors came back for his sword.

"I need my blade yesterday!" he shouted.

"It's right here, Hoark," said Lenora, handing him the blade she'd just finished sharpening. She held out the hammer. "Hoark, is my father okay and could you get this to him?" Normally, a Viking's best weapon against a dragon was a shield, but Stoick never seemed to need a shield and his favorite weapon was the hammer.

"He's fighting a Monstrous Nightmare, but I'm sure he can handle himself," said Hoark. "But I'll give him the hammer, Lenora."

Lenora gave him a grateful smile before she turned her gaze to the other Vikings her age, who were allowed to help in ways she couldn't. There was Fishlegs, a fat boy who knew everything there was to know about dragons. There was her arrogant cousin, Snotlout, who was all words and no action. There were the twins, Tuffnut and his tomboy sister Ruffnut, who were always arguing with each other. And then there was eighteen-year-old Aster, the village's most prized young Viking.

He was every girl's dream boy—handsome, strong, and caring. He was tall, well-muscled with blond hair, blue eyes and a smile that made Lenora's heart flutter. Lenora had had a secret love for him for years. He was kinder to her than some of the others in her village, but with status quo the way it was, Lenora didn't have much hope for him ever returning her affections.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Gobber picked her up and carried her away from the window of the shop.

"Why do people keep picking me up like this today?" she muttered. "Gobber, come on, let me out please. I need to make my mark out there."

"Oh, you've made plenty of marks, but not quite the way you wanted to," said Gobber.

"Please, two minutes. I'll slay a dragon," she begged. "Dad might actually be proud of me for once. Heck, Aster might even ask me out."

"Lenora, if he doesn't like you for yourself, then you'd be better off without him," said Gobber, shaking his head. "And as for the dragon slaying, I'm sorry, but you're not that kind of girl. You can't lift a hammer, you can't throw an axe, you can't even lift a bola!"

"True enough," she admitted. She beckoned to her latest invention, which was something like a catapult and crossbow combined. When Gobber didn't need her help in the forge or she wasn't busy with something, she was usually tinkering away making things Gobber himself couldn't do. "But this will do it for me." She patted it, which accidentally set it off and caused the bola inside to go off and hit her Uncle Spitelout in the face.

Gobber sighed in exasperation as Lenora winced. "See? Now, this is what I'm talking about, right here. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, then you need to stop all this."

Lenora was confused. "But you just pointed to all of me!"

"Yes, that's it. Stop being all of you!" said Gobber.

Lenora was even more confused now. "Gobber, you're not making sense. You're the one who's always telling me I should just be myself. How am I supposed to do that, if I stop acting like myself? How do you know, that being a dragon slayer is not who I am?"

Gobber sighed and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I know, because I know you. You're not a dragon slayer, you're something else, and we both know it. Now, get back to work. We've got loads to do before the night's over."

Lenora sighed and began sharpening another sword. She didn't want to admit it, but Gobber was right. She didn't really think she could kill dragons, but what else was she supposed to do? Dragon slaying was everything in her home. The truth of the matter was, she was only trying so hard to be a dragon slayer because she wanted to make her father proud of her and not disappointed for once in her life, even if it meant denying who she was inside. Her father was her hero.

A Nadder head got you noticed, Gronckles were tough and taking down one of those often got a boy a girlfriend, a Hideous Zippleback with its two heads meant twice the status, and only best Vikings like her father went after the Monsterous Nightmares—a dragon that had a very bad habit of setting itself on fire as while dragons were fire-proof, their surroundings and humans weren't. But the ultimate prize was the one dragon no one had ever seen, the Night Fury.

When the Fury's called was heard, everyone got down to shield themselves from its attack. The Night Fury never stole food, never showed itself and it never missed. It was like the raiding dragons' protector as it always hit the catapults, towers and everything but the livestock and houses. No one had ever slain a Night Fury, but Lenora had hopes that she might be the first one to do so.

She finished up her work just as Gobber was replacing his hook with an axe. "Mind the fort, Lenora. They need me out there. Stay put, you hear me?"

"I hear you," she said. "Watch yourself out there."

Gobber nodded and then let out a battle cry as he ran out into the battlefield.

Lenora smiled to herself as an idea struck her. She grabbed her invention and ran out, ignoring the protests of the other Vikings.

I said I heard him, I didn't say I would stay put, she thought, as she aimed her invention at the skies. If I actually put this off, Dad might not kill me and he'll finally have reason to be proud of me. I just need one chance, just one and I can prove myself.

"Come on, give me something to shoot at. Give me something to shoot at," she muttered. After a few moments, she was able to make out the Night Fury's black form among the starry sky and then she fired. The bola hit the Night Fury and caused it to land off Raven Point.

Lenora let out a joyful yell. "Yes, I did it!" she cried. "I hit it! I hit it! Did anyone see that?" But when she turned around, she saw no one had. She turned around again when she heard a crunch, and saw that her invention was wrecked thanks to the Monstrous Nightmare behind her. "No one saw it, except for you."

The Nightmare nodded before firing at her as she started running for her life. She was an idiot, a complete idiot. Why hadn't she grabbed a shield before going out? She narrowly dodged the dragon's attacks, and eventually hid behind a pole. She didn't stay hidden for long, as the dragon found her. She was about to run again before it could attack, but then suddenly, Stoick appeared and saved her. He knocked it down and wacked it with his new hammer before it took off.

At that point, Lenora emerged from her hiding place as the dragons took off, looking sheepish. "Hi, Dad," she said, forcing a smile. But Stoick just glared at her. "Okay, I know I messed up, but I hit a Night Fury."

Stoick just grabbed her by the arm and starting dragging her off towards the house. He clearly didn't believe her.

"Dad, I'm telling you the truth! I really did hit it! You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot!" she protested. "It went down off Raven Point. Let's get a search party and—"

"Stop!" interrupted Stoick. "Just stop. You nearly got yourself killed out there! Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I've got an entire village to feed!"

Lenora was stung by her father's words and her hurt showed, despite her efforts to hide it. "I know we've got problems," she said. She knew that all too well. She'd secretly been working on preserving food and blankets and firewood when she wasn't in the forge, to prepare for the upcoming winter. "But I didn't think you thought of me as one of your problems!"

"That's not what I meant, Lenora!" growled Stoick. "Don't twist my words! Why can't you just follow the simplest orders?"

"Dad, I can't help it. I'm just trying to be a dragon slayer, like you and like everyone else in the village! What is so wrong with that?" she asked. "It's who I am."

Stoick sighed as he put his hand on his forehead. "You're many things, Lenora, but a dragon slayer's not one of them." He turned to Gobber. "Take her home and make sure she gets there. I've got her mess to clean up."

Lenora could see there would no point in speaking further, so she just hung her head and walked beside Gobber back to her house as the others laughed at her.

"Quite the performance," sneered Tuffnut.

"I've never seen anyone mess up that badly. That helped," said Snotlout, which earned him a smack upside the head from Gobber.

"Thank you. Thank you, I was trying," she said, sarcastically. As always, she was the village jester. If they weren't making fun of her clothes, which was just a simple grass green tunic, brown leggings, brown boots and darker green jacket, they were making fun of everything else about her.

Gobber squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her but it did little good.

"I really did hit one, Gobber," said Lenora, as they walked up the front steps of her house. "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Course I do, lass," said Gobber. "You're not one for telling stories or lies."

Lenora smiled. "Thanks." She bit her lip. "What I am going to do about Dad? He never listens and when he does, it's with this disappointed scowl, like someone's skimped on the meat in his sandwich." She then did a very accurate impression of her father, voice and all. "Excuse me, barmaid, I think you brought me the wrong offspring. I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking girly fishbone." She let out a frustrated growl. "Like it's my fault, I wasn't the son he wanted!"

If it wasn't for the fact that she took more after her mother both in personality and looks, Lenora would think she was adopted, because she wasn't much like her father or her cousin and his family. She just wasn't like the others of the village of Berk and if anything, being different was proving to be a bad thing. It wasn't like she hadn't tried to fit in before now, but she just couldn't do it.

Gobber laughed at her imitation of Stoick before turning serious. "Lenora, you're thinking about this wrong. It's not the fact you're a girl he can't stand, it's what it's inside he doesn't like."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Way to pour salt into the wound," she snapped.

"That didn't come out right, I'm sorry," said Gobber. He sighed. "Look, the point is, stop trying to be something you're not. You know I'm proud of you. Why don't you show him some of things you get up to at the forge or all those little projects you're always working on?"

Lenora shook her head. "I can't. Just trying to be like everyone else makes him so annoyed with me as it is, so why bother proving to him that I'm even more different than he already knows? He doesn't even realize my blacksmith work is mine, he just thinks it's yours. The only reason he even lets me work with you is because you needed an apprentice and you're my godfather. Don't get me wrong, I like working with you, but being a dragon's slayer the only way I'll ever win his approval."

"You don't know that for sure," said Gobber, but they both knew it was probably true. "He just doesn't want to lose you, like he lost your mother. You're all he has left."

"I know that! But Mom didn't die in the dragon raids," said Lenora. Lenora's mother, Val, had died when Lenora was six from an illness. Val had only fought when necessary as she didn't believe in violence. Her loss had deeply shaken the people of Berk as she'd been the heart and soul of the village. "And I don't want to lose Dad, either. But I don't try and stop him from protecting Berk, do I?"

"No, you don't," he admitted.

She bit her lip before shaking her head again. "Let's face it, it's a lose-lose situation. If I just be myself, I'll only make him more disappointed in me. If I don't be a dragon slayer, I'll never win his approval," said Lenora. She sighed as she tucked a lose strand of her hair behind her ear. "All I want is for him to be proud of me. For once, I don't want to be Lenora the Useless to him."

Gobber's face softened. "Lass, that's not—"

"Don't say it's not true. We both know that's how Dad and the rest of the village see me," she interrupted. She sighed again before hugging him. "But thanks for trying anyway, Gobber. It's nice to know someone likes the real me."

"And I always will. Nora, it's been a long night and it's barely dawn. Why don't you get some sleep?" he advised. "I'll talk to your old man for you. Things will get better, you'll see."

Lenora nodded and went inside, only to sneak out the backdoor the minute he was gone. Thor help her, she was going to find the Night Fury and bring honor to her family's name.