Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    “Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Fishlegs, eyeing the wild dragon cliffs standing tall and proud before them.

     “Of course it is! Are you challenging my leadership?” snapped Hiccup, who was finishing up getting all of their supplies packed.

    Fishlges rolled his eyes, “Of course not. But doesn’t this seem….” Fishlegs had to stop himself from saying the word he was thinking; stupid.

     “Look, if I …er… we are going to rule the whole archipelago, and we will, Old wrinkly has foretold so, we are going to need a dragon. The Quiet Life and the Peaceable both have dragons.” 

     The Quiet lives and the peaceable were some of the most feared and respected viking tribes. Once, long long ago , they were friendly and unassuming, but centuries of war had turned them cold and violent. They were some of the last remaining real viking tribes of a world that was once bloody, violent and glorious. The world had changed, and most of the tribes no longer murdered or fought and when they stole it was only little things and all in good fun. It made Hiccup sick to his stomach. The Hooligans once were feared and respected. The last great King of the Wilderwest, Grimbeard the Ghastly himself, Hiccup’s great great grandfather was a Hooligan. Now the tribe had become soft, weak. Well, that would all change when Hiccup became chief, as soon as that pathetically sentimental old man Stoick kicked the can.  He would rule with an iron fist and restore the good old ways whether people liked it or not. 

     It was a treacherous climb up those jagged cliffs.  “If I break my wrist I’m going to kill you. I’m performing Thursday,”  muttered Fishlehgs, as he hoisted himself over the ledge. 

     “Yeah, yeah whatever,” Hiccup waved away the comment. “Your tween fangirls can wait for a bit, you know. I’m going to get us power, actual power. Not that you would know anything about that.” 

    “At least I’m actually popular.”

     "At least I’m feared!”

     The two vikings glared  intensely at one another for a solid minute, neither boy breaking eye contact, then both scoffed and looked away.  

“Besides, the only reason you can afford those fancy shows is because I pay for them, and the only way I can do THAT is if people fear me enough to hand me their treasure without much hassle.”

     Fishlges hesitated, then nodded. Hiccup was right. Though Fishlegs hated it, he was completely dependent on Hiccup’s….er….”generosity” with plundered riches. He had washed up on the shore of the Hooligan tribe as a baby. He had nothing and no one. If it weren’t for Hiccup he would still have nothing, be a nobody. He might not even be able to see, as Hiccup's grandfather, Old Wrinkly, was the one who made the gold framed glasses he was currently wearing and without Hiccup, he would never be able to afford it. Without Hiccup, he’d be a nobody again. 

As they neared the mouth of the cave hiccup spoke softly, “Remember, death or glory.” 

“Preferable glory,” Fishlegs added. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

     The cave was dark and the torches Fishlegs and Hiccup were carrying cast ominous shadows on the wall. The cavern walls seemed to close around Fishlegs, who had to breathe in deeply, and remind himself of the glittery treasure that came with being Hiccup's friend. In this echoey darkness, filled with thousands of tiny murder machines, Fiishlegs was feeling something he knew he shouldn’t be, not if he wanted to remain Hiccup’s second in command; scared. He did his very best not to show it though. He never showed fear around Hiccup. That boy was like an animal, he could smell it. He even got skull tattoos on his arms when he was only 10, because Hiccup dared him to. 

     Hiccup on the other hand, wasn’t feeling frightened in the least. Instead of warding him off, the stories of the poor children who had wandered too close to the world's dragon cliffs only to be picked apart by dragons only served to entice him further. 

     Hiccup’s heart drumbed faster as they entered the dragon nursery. Hundreds of baby dragons, which if trained could grow up to be servants absolutely loyal to Hiccup and Hiccup alone. Hiccup was in the middle of trying to burgle a large and beautiful red monstrous nightmare when Fishlegs sneezed. 

     “Achoo!” The sound was loud and echoed in the cave. The two viking boys saw about 1000 pairs of dragon eyes snap open. 

     “Run,” barked Hiccup. Fishlegs didn’t need to be told twice. Now, Hiccup was a clever boy. He knew that fighting against over 500 dragons, even if they were only babies, was a losing battle. Still, as the boys raced through the corridor, something compelled him to go back. Perhaps it was pride, after all he was Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third hope and heir to the Hairy Hooligans, and he NEVER ran from a fight. Despite all logic, he spun around quickly and raced back into the dragon nursery. 

     “You’re a maniac!” called out Fishlegs, not stopping or looking back. If he had looked back he would see Hiccup showing him a very rude hand gesture as he slashed his way through the hoards. By some miracle, Hiccup caught up with Fishlegs once  again, and the two were standing on the edge of the cliff, the icy sea below. It would be a painful plunge, but they would probably survive, plus the cold might deter the dragons. 

     “Jump!” yelled Hiccup, holding onto Fishlegs hand, in a manner that teetered the line between almost caring and painfully aggressive. Fishlegs buried the heel of his boots into the ground. 

     “I said Jump!” Hiccup yelled louder.

     “I CAN’T SWIM!” 

     “WHAT?!” Hiccup growled. After throwing a knife at a dragon that got too close Hiccup decided that despite this new development, they could not wait.  “Odin’s beard, just jump!” The rest of the dragons were almost upon them. Fishlegs looked back and chose that if he was going to die, he would rather die by drowning than being mauled to death by hungry dragons. It was more romantic that way.  And so the two boys jumped down, hundreds of feet into the freezing cold water. It hit them like a brick.  Hiccup lost consciousness for a second before coming to again. His head bobbed up and down as he tried to keep himself a float. After a few seconds Hiccup regained all his senses and looked around. Where was Fishlegs? Hiccup strung together dozens of the nastiest curse words imaginable as he remembered Fishlegs saying he couldn’t swim. He dove down below the frigid water, trying to find his companion. Thankfully, he found him quickly.  With all the strength that the little viking boy could muster, he pulled Fishlegs to shore. 

     His heart was still beating which was a good sign, but he wasn't breathing. Hiccup threw his sword onto the ground in anger, breaking it. He didn’t care, he could just steal a new one, loyal followers on the other hand, were a lot less easy to come by. He lay Fishlegs down flat and started performing resuscitation, although perhaps a bit more violently than he should have. Fishlegs’s ribs would take weeks to heal. Eventually after several minutes of trying to rescue him, Fishlegs coughed up the water in his lungs and sat up groggily.  

     “Finally! You're welcome for saving your pathetic life, not that you deserve it. Couldn’t you control your allergies just this once!”

     Fishlegs scowled, coughing up more water. “Well I wouldn't have needed saving if not for you. And I have as much control over my allergies as you have over the damn weather!”

      The two boys spent the next few minutes cussing each other out,  neither one trying to show that they were secretly rather relieved that the other was alright after all. 

     “Well let's agree that your brilliant plan failed miserably,” said Fishlegs once he was feeling well enough to be back to his typical sarcastic self. 

     “Actually,” Hiccup smirked, “Not quite.” He took the basket off of his back, which Fishlegs could now see had a distinctive light gray smoke billowing out of it. Fishlegs stared in amazement. 

      Fishlegs gave Hiccup a curious look. “You actually managed to get a dragon. How?”

     Hiccup smiled, “I suppose it all comes down to my own natural talent. I wonder what kind of bloodthirsty monster is in here, maybe a monstrous nightmare, a vorpent, or a brainpicker, wouldn’t that be cool.” Fishlegs tried not to squirm at the mention of brain pickers. Hiccup was just about the only person in the inner iles to refer to brain pickers as cool. 

     Unfortunately, when the boys opened the top, they were met with a terrible shock, the dragon was the smallest hunting dragon the two had ever seen. Fishlegs wagered that it could fit in Hiccup’s pocket. 

     Hiccup growled, “Is this a joke?” 

      Fishlegs couldn’t help laughing, “Oh, you really did it this time. Ha! That dragon is almost as small as yo-”

     Fishlegs didn’t get a chance to finish what he was saying before he felt Hiccup grab his wrist and twist it painfully. “‘Say that one more time and I snap your wrist joint like a twig and make sure you never write again, got that?” Fishlegs gulped and nodded, he knew Hiccup wasn’t kidding, he had once bitten the finger off of a grown man. Though he typically controlled his violent urges around Fishlegs, his small size was the only thing he was actually sensitive about. Fishlegs should have known better than to push his luck. 

     “Right right, I’m …..sorry” Really the only person Fishlegs felt sorry for at this moment was himself. It would be such a pain writing poetry with a sore wrist. “What are you going to do with that creature?” Asked Fishlegs, quickly changing the subject. 

     “Train it I guess,” Hiccup answered. “Do you have a better plan? It’s not like we can go back to wild dragon cliffs, they have our scent, if we get anywhere near they will attack.” 

     Fishlegs nodded. “You're right, as always.” 

     Hiccup flashed a wicked grin, “You see, that’s why I’m the leader.”

     Just then the dragon chose to yawn, showing off its pink, little, gummy mouth with absolutely NO teeth. Hiccup knew dragons, he studied them in his spare time, though for sake of image he never told anyone. He knew a baby common or garden dragon, which he assumed the thing in the basket was, was already supposed to have all or at least most of its teeth. This dragon was defective . 

    “Do you still want to train it?” asked Fishlegs. 

     Hiccup huffed and shook his head, “A labrador is more intimidating than a toothless dragon. I say we just get rid of it before it makes either one of us a laughing stock.” 

     “I agree.” 

     The two boys decided to dump the poor little infinite dragon in the sea. Luckily dragons can breathe underwater for up to several days. Eventually the little basket with the dragon washed up on the isolated shore of a quiet little island, where a peaceful potato farmer happened to be passing by. Curiously he walked over to the backpack and opened the lid. 

“Oh goodness! What a poor little creature. It’s ok little one, I got you. Here, let me take you someplace warm.” And that is how that tiny green fang free dragon was lifted up from its place of sleep and carried home by a kind widower, no older than 32, Alvin, the poor but honest farmer.

Chapter Text

One unlucky spring evening, Alvin happened to draw the attention of some …… ruffians. He was trying to mind his own business, really he was, but they had some beef with him. All he knew was it had something to do with him being the lost heir of the Outcasts, though he preferred to remain unaffiliated with the tribe. He had run away when he was seven, from the cruel tyranny of his father and to his mother’s loving arms. She was a caring and intelligent woman. Most days on his little potato farm he liked to pretend that his father, and the Outcast tribe as a whole did not exist. 

     Unfortunately, the Meatheads were less than willing to forget. They decided to play a cruel joke on him as revenge, shoving him into a coffin which was found washed up on the beach. 

The coffin was sealed shut and was far too tight to move in.  Alvin bobbed in the sea, becoming a bit green from the constant swaying motion. He hadn’t been on a boat in a very long time. He stared at the dark wood of the coffin thinking, well, this is a humiliating way to die. The only comfort he felt was the warmth of the little dragon in his pocket. 

     Toothless was the greediest, most disobedient, most temperamental dragon in the inner iles, and Alvin loved him. Perhaps, it was due to the son, whom he knew he had and yet had never met, that he felt such a strong need to take care of the creature, or maybe it was just because he had a good heart. Either way he tried his best to take care of the little green creature, who he had named Toothless, no matter how difficult the dragon was sometimes, going so far as to learn the language it spoke, though he wasn’t particularly good yet. 

    Oxygen was running out, and Alvin’s eyes were feeling very heavy. Just before he could fall into a sleep he would never wake up from  the lid of the coffin cracked open, and light spilled in.  Alvin took a deep breath in, spoking in the much needed oxygen, sitting straight up. He noticed people gasping and backing away. Grown men cowered behind tables. This confused Alvin greatly. It wasn’t exactly the reaction he was used to. Intimidation had never been a strong viking characteristic of his. He was far too shy and polite, not to mention kind of frail for a man nearing his mid thirties. He couldn’t intimidate a child if he wanted to. 

     “Sorry, terribly sorry,” mumbled Alvin, genuinely meaning it, as he whipped the yellow and green slime off of his face. 

     A very cross looking old man yelled out, “This is not the ghost of Grimbeard the Ghastly you cowards it is just a man, a very scrawny man at that.”

     Alvin felt a bit offended, he wanted to protest, but the old man scared him just a little. His eyes were a stormy, icey blue. They were cold and calculating, without a drop of kindness in them. He wore long, raggedy, black robes and animal bones were braided into his beard, which was white as paper.  

     There was a murmur amongst the crowd. A large man with a messy red beard got up from under the table and addressed the crowd. “Don’t worry guys this is not the corpse of Grimbeard.” 

     Alvin chuckled. “I should hope I’m not a corpse.”

     The man spoke kindly, “Well then who are you?” 

     Alvin gracefully got up out of the coffin and bowed. “My name is Avin, Alvin the poor BUT honest farmer.” He smiled, gazing around the room he found himself in. It seemed to be a great hall of some kind. He noticed that a very small child was standing near the coffin, unlike most of the adults, which were at least ten feet away by now. He had wild red hair and icy blue eyes, which bore a striking resemblance to the old man. 

     Alvin gave a kind smile, he had always loved children very much.  He leaned down, “And who might you be sonny?” He asked. 

     “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third, call me sonny one more time and I will tear the limbs off of your body and make you eat them understand?” the boy growled. 

     Alvin took a step back, chuckling nervously, “He doesn’t mean that right….” The people stared awkwardly to the floor. Nobody answered. 

     The man stepped forward. “Please forgive my son, he is a bit well……” his voice trailed off.     

     The crowd was filled with an uncomfortable silence, as no one wanted to finish the sentence. The kid was a complete psychopath. “Anyway,” The man quickly changed the subject, “what were you doing in Grimbeard’s coffin?”

     “A rather nasty practical joke I’m afraid, you know how barbaric this pace can be.” The man nodded sadly. There was something just slightly familiar about him. “Say, do I know you from somewhere?” 

      “Oh I’m so sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet. I’m chief Stoick the vast of the Hairy Hooligan tribe.” 

    Alvin’s ears perked up. “Hairy Hooligans, you say. Well it happens that I was meaning to find you actually.”

     “Oh, really?” asked Stoick. 

    Alvin pulled a hand out of his left pocket, or rather a hook; the crowd gasped. 

     “Oh this,” Alvin chuckled. “I’m afraid it’s not my first encounter with the accursed coffin. The first time I opened it, I didn't know it was boobytraped. It cut my hand clean off.”

     Stoick shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry about my great grandfather Grimbeard. He was a nasty piece of work.” 

     Alvin smiled, “I appreciate the concern, but it’s ok, really. Se la vie, you know.” 

      Stoick nodded, pretending  to understand Alvin’s french.

      “But if you give me a minute”, Alvin unscrewed his hook to reveal a piece of paper. “I stuck it there for safe keeping. It’s a map.”

    The hooligans oooed and aaahed. All except one. 

     “A map to what old man?” called out the voice of a 12 year old boy. He was scowling at Alvin. He seemed to be decked out in gold like a prince and there was something just so eerily familiar about him. 

     “I’m sorry, have we ever met before?” Alvin asked, feeling quite puzzled. 

    The boy snorted, “I should hope not, I don't associate with impoverished old men.” 

     Alvin kept his cool at the rude remark, even if his face got a tad redder. 

     “Anyway, as I was saying, it's a map to Grimbeard’s treasure. I acquired it through my darling wife who found it, may she forever rest in peace, but I have no use for treasure. I am but a simple man. So I am giving it to you, freely, It’s what Grimbeard would have wanted.” 

    “Thank you so much for your generosity,” Stoick smiled, taking the map. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Was this Alvin guy kind or just insane, even the most peaceful vikings would take up sword to see a glimpse of Grimbeard’s magnificent treasure, the treasure that was sung by bards and immortalized in legends. 

     “Not so fast!” Hiccup graped the map out of Stoick’s hand and pointed an accusing finger at Alvin. “How do we know that you aren’t just trying to get US to find the treasure for YOU before backstabbing us!” There was another wave of murmuring amongst the crowd. 

     Alvin was taken aback, “Why on earth would I do that?” 

     “Because it’s what I would have done!” snapped the tiny viking, with all the rage of a chihuahua with a vendetta.

     “He has a point,” Stoick said thoughtfully. Before Alvin could even think, his arms were being bound in ropes. 

     “Wait! Hold on a minute!” 

     Stoick gave Avin an apologetic pat on the shoulder, “I’m sorry Alvin, I really am, but my son raises a good point. We don't exactly know whether or not you're trustworthy. I promise if all goes well, I’ll make it up to you. You have my work as chief.” 

    Alvin signed, muttering to himself, “typical, just typical. I attempt to be generous, and I end up a prisoner. Why do I even try?” 

     Toothless took this moment to wake up, and crawled out of Alvin’s pocket. “W-w-where are we?” The dragon asked sleepily. 

     “It’s ok Toothless,” Alvin said in a soothing voice. “We’re with some people who want us to help them find some treasure, won’t that be fun?” Toothless scrunched up his little nose, fun, to him was chasing after mice, not helping out big ugly humans find treasure. “Oh, and one last thing I forgot to say,” Alvin added to the Vikings. “The treasure is said to be buried deep underground. You're going to need dragons….Um where are your dragons?” Avin looked around but he couldn't find any. 

     Stoick turned a little red. “Oh um we don’t have any.” 

     “Oh right,” Avin mused, “the Hooligan tribe is one of the only ones without dragons. Well that is quite the predicament-”

     “I know where the dragons are, how to find them and capture them!” There was a loud shout. Hiccup was standing on a table. “Let me lead an expedition to capture a few dragons, I know I can. I was born to do this!” 

      Stoick looked at his son thoughtfully, “I don’t know Hiccup, doesn't it seem a little bit…well….dangerous?”

     “Dangerous mm yeah ok,” Hiccup snapped sarcastically, “I guess we should go back to our little fishing boats and basket weaving? Are we not vikings! Are we not warriors! The glory of Grimbeard’s treasure awaits. We have the opportunity to become the most respected, most renowned tribe in the history of the archipelago! I say we find this treasure and restore our Tribes former Glory!” Hiccup threw his fist passionately in the air. There were cries of  “here here!” and “Yes sir!” 

     Hiccup jumped down off of the table. “Alright, I will take anyone who is brave enough to wild dragon cliffs and point you in the direction of the dragons.” We will leave for the Scullion Island in one week’s time. 

Chapter Text

     12 people turned up at the summit of  wild dragon cliffs. There were 7 men and 5 boys.

      “Alright!” Hiccup yelled at the top of his lungs, pacing back and forth like a miniature general. “This is a military operation! The dragons you will be burglering are infants but a pack of them will strip the flesh from your bones like piranhas. You must be very quiet. Get your dragons and get back down, don't linger. I will be giving a special reward to any person who can retrieve a huge and fearsome dragon for me;  however, if you in any way cause the mission to fail, and therefore cost me Grimbeards treasure, I will personally and happily tear the skin from your flesh, and feed your carcass to the dragons myself. Is that understood?”

     Even the adults looked nervous, “Umm yes…..sir!”

    Hiccup continued, “Snotlout is going to be in charge. Although, he is a useless pansy.” Hiccup glared up at Snotlout who was blushing sheepishly, marching over to him and angrily tearing the daisy crown from off of his head. “For the love of Odin! At least TRY to be intimidating!”  Snotout put his hands up and nodded quickly. Hiccup regained his composure, brushing the dust off of his shirt and clearing his throat. “As I was saying Snotlout might be a softie, but he’s regrettably the closest living heir here other than me, and I cannot join you because the dragons already have my scent.” 

     20 eyes stared at Snotlout, who gave an awkward smile and small wave, he really didn’t want to be here. He would rather be in his room writing poetry about love or sadness or something. He didn’t care that he would likely never be a star like Fishlegs, he just enjoyed the artistry. He was only here because his father had said it would be “Good for him. Toughen him up, make him a man, that kind of thing.”  

     “Snotlout is in charge because he is the second heir to the hooligan tribe. And that is just the way things go with us vikings. Where do you think you are, the Republic of Rome?! Alright when I blow this bugle you will begin! Remember, death of glory!”

      One of the viking men gulped, “I’m sorry d-did you say death-”

     “Shut up!” Hiccup pressed his lips to the bugle and its cry echoed through the summate. 

       Fishlegs and Hiccup sat down on the grass, watching the progress of the little party.     

     “Do you think all of them are going to make it?” 

     “I don’t know,” answered Hiccup with a shrug.  Secretly he was hoping for a little spilt blood, as long as it did not jeopardize the mission. It was sooooo boring on Berk. Everyone was far too nice and friendly. He sometimes thought about running away to a more fierce tribe like the Murderous, or Quiet-Lifes, or even the Outcasts, now THOSE guys would get him. Still, he never left Berk. He thought about his father, his mother, Fishlegs. Duety. That must have been it. The reason he stayed was out of duty and honor to the horrendous haddock lineage, after all, only cowards run. It was this and definitely  NOTHING more to why he stayed. 

     Evidently Hiccup’s luck wasn’t all there that day as everyone, even the weaker members made it down in one piece, though some of the adults looked rather scraped up. It had been a very tight squeeze.  One of the adults handed over a large, sleeping red monstrous nightmare to Hiccup, who grinned. He tossed the man a gold bracelet in payment. He could have just taken it without paying. No one would dare stop him, but with news of Grimbeard treasure and all, Hiccup was in a very good mood. 

     Hiccup stopped for a second to stare at Snotlout's dragons. It was a basic brown. One of the friendliest and most common dragon species. 

     Hiccup rubbed his nose bridge, “I didn't expect much from you cousin , you always were a useless disappointment, but I expected a little more than this. This is just embarrassing.” 

      “Hey! Horrorcow’s going to be a great dragon!” Snotout protested. 

     Fishlegs snickered, “Horrorcow huh? I see the cow part, but where exactly is the horror bit? She looks like if a dragon could be vegetarian. If she was a cat she’d be declawed. I don’t think she has either bark or bite.” Fishlegs and Hiccup laughed, as Snotlout tried not to get too angry about the rude comments being made about his dragon. “Well at least, this dragon won’t be competition when it comes to the treasure hunt.” Oh right , Snotlout thought, I am technically an heir to Grimbeard aren't I. 

Chapter Text

    “So,” Fishlegs said as the tribe boarded the ship, setting course to Scullion Island. He smirked, putting his arms around Snotlout who was trying to think very hard of a happy place, as the boat rocked back and forth. “Remind me Hiccup, what do the scullions do to their prey if they find it?”

      Hiccup’s eyes lit up with a sinister excitement. “Oh, they’ll tear off your arms and legs first, so you don’t escape!” Snotlout tried not to feel sick as Hiccup went on to describe the dismemberment process in great detail.  Eventually, it was all too much for poor Snotout and he hurled into the sea. 

      “What’s wrong? Is the Snoty-Woty the Useless viking feeling a bit seasick? Pathetic.” The two boys, seemingly satisfied, with their tormentation of Snotlout ,and chuckling, moved a little way away. 

     “Hey umm are you ok,” Alvin approached Snotlout. 

     “Oh it’s you.” Snotlout’s shoulders slumped as he wiped the corners of his mouth. “No, I suppose not really, but they’re always like this. Hiccup really enjoys tormenting me. Well he enjoys tormenting everyone, but me most of all. ” 

     “Why is that?” Alvin asked. 

     Snotlout gave a long drawn out sign. “I don’t know. I think it might have something to do with a rumor that I was going to usurp the throne, since I'm three years older. It’s stupid and untrue, but Hiccup can't seem to let go.” Snotlout sat down, hugging his knees, “Who am I kidding, I’m no Viking, I’m just a big joke!”

    “You're not a joke, jokes are funny and people actually like them,” Called out Fishlegs smugly. “You’re just a pathetic loser.” 

     Alvin placed a hand on Snotlout’s shoulder trying to comfort him. “Hey don’t let those kids get you down. You're just as much an heir to Grimbeard as he is, hey, I bet that you’re gonna find the treasurer.” 

     “I don’t know,” said Snotlout pointing at his dragon, “All she really does is sleep and eat carrots, she isn't really a treasure hunting machine like Hiccup's dragon Fireworm, that dragon is a massive beast.” 

     “As my mother always said, size isn’t everything.” 

    “Boy do I know it,” muttered Snotlout bitterly. “Hiccup’s less than a third my size but can beat grown men in battle. Meanwhile me, I can't even talk to adults without being frightened.”

      Alvin gave a sympathetic smile. “You seem to be talking to me ok.”

     “Yeah, well….” Snotlout gestured up and down Alvin. You're not exactly very threatening.” 

     Avin gave a small laugh. “I suppose not. So I’m not a big muscular warrior, is that really that bad?”

     “yes.” Snotlout said without hesitation. “You’re a loser, just like I am.”

     Alvin chuckled, “Ouch. Ok, let's try a different approach.  Do you have any hobbies?”

     Snotlout’s face turned red. “”N-no I don't!”

     Alvin smiled slyly, nudging his shoulder, ‘Oh come on, you can tell old uncle Al. If it’s really that personal I won't tell a soul.” 

     Snotlout pondered this for a bit, “Do you swear not to tell anyone?” 

     Alvin nodded. Snotlout breathed a sigh of relief. Leaning in to whisper, “Ok, I write poetry.” 

     Alvin grinned, showing off what was perhaps just a bit too many teeth. “Ain't nothing wrong with poetry. My beautiful  late wife was a poet, and a splendid one at that. Say, isn’t that rich boy a poet too?”

     “Fishlegs?” Snotlout sighed, “yeah, but he’s popular. He can sing and play instruments. I can only write the poems, my singing voice is terrible. If I tried I’d become even more unpopular than I already am, or worse, kill half the tribe listening.”

       Alvin whistled, “You really aren’t very optimistic are you kid?” 

     Snotout chuckled, “No I am not, but I’m not a kid either, I’m 13.” The boat lurched forwards onto the sands.  “Hey, it looks like we are landing. Do you want to be on my team for  treasurer hunting, I mean it's not like anyone else really wants to.” 

      Alvin smiled. “I would love to.”

Chapter Text

    Alvin would be lying if he said he was particularly invested in finding the treasure. He didn’t really want it, and being on the island of the Scullions frightened him. The sooner anyone, anyone at all, found the treasure, the sooner he could leave. “This is what you get for helping people,” he scolded himself.  

     Snotlout picked up the tiny seashell that Horrorcow had dug up. “No, no, no Horrorcow. We are supposed to be looking for treasure , metal. Me-tle. Not sea shells.”  Snotlout tossed it to the side. Alvin picked up the seashell, admiring its natural beauty. Why most Vikings couldn't see the beauty in the simple was beyond him. Everyone wanted treasure but nobody treasured the little things that made life a bit brighter. 

     “Why isn't your dragon hunting for treasure like everyone else?” Snotlout asked Alvin. “I know that you have one.” Snotlout had seen a teeny green dragon sticking out of Alvin’s pocket once. 

     Alvin waved his hook, “Like I said, I don't want the treasure. If I had my way I would be on my little farm right now. But due to typical viking mistrust, I am, regrettably , here.” 

     “You know what, maybe you're right,” mused Snotlout. “Maybe I don't need the treasure either, but it would feel so good to prove to everyone that I’m not just a loser.”

      Just then a loud seashell noise whistled through the air. Someone had found the treasure. 

     “Who could it be?” asked Alvin.

     “I don’t know,” said Snotlout, starting to run towards the noise. Please don't be Hiccup, please don't be Hiccup please don't be Hiccup, Snotlout pleaded to the gods. Unfortunately the gods all seemed to be busy that day. Either that or they just didn’t care. 

     Just up ahead, standing proudly next to a very large chest was Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third and his monstrous nightmare. She looked very proud of herself. Alvin could make out a few words she was saying. “Thank you, thank you, it was nothing really.” 

     “Well done Hiccup!” Exclaimed Stoick, reaching for the lid of the coffin to see what’s inside. Hiccup smacked his hand away. 

      “Not here you jellyfish brained idiot!” Alvin winced, he wasn’t used to such small boys talking back to their elders in such a rude manner. His father would have slapped him for disrespect like that. “It’s most likely boobytrapped. We have to get it on the boat! Seriously do none of you think, did Thor just turn all of your brains into sea sludge?” Hiccup continued to yell at the vikings gathered around. 

     One timid hand went up. “But what if the chest is filled with rocks?” 

     Hiccup gritted his teeth. “Are you questioning my dragon’s ability to differentiate between the smell of metal and rocks ?” 

     “Umm uh n-no sir,” the viking said nervously, lowering his hand. 

   It was very heavy, carrying the chest. Reluctantly Hiccup agreed to let Stoick and Bagybum carry it though he wasn't too thrilled with anyone other than him touching the treasure. 

     Alvin thanked Thor that they had somehow managed to go through the whole treasure hunting thing without waking a single scullion. THAT would have been a disaster. 

     Onboard the ship Hiccup finally opened the lid of the treasure. It was glorious. The setting sun made it shine brighter than the legends could ever describe accurately. Hiccup drew out a magnificent sword. It was the famed storm blade. The sword of grimbeard. It glinted with wicked malice. Hiccup tested the sharpness of it on his hand. He barely grazed his skin and red blood dripped down. The glint from the blade seemed to reflect in his eyes. Alvin suddenly felt very unsafe here, not that he felt safe before. 

     After they got over their initial enchantment, Stoick gave a grand speech about the Hooligan tribe, his father and his father’s father. He ended the speech by drawing out a coin from the treasure. “And with this treasure, that we shall split equally-“

     “No.” Hiccup cut in. 

    “Excuse me what?” Stoick looked down at his son who was scowling. 

     “This is my treasure. I am not sharing it  with you ideodic lot. You would run the treasure dry. I’ll keep it and give it where I see fit.”

     There was grumbling amongst the crowd. Who, when being dragged to an island of death, assumed there would be some gold  for them to keep. 

    “B-but son,” Stoick pleaded, but Hiccup held up his hand to silence him. 

    “This treasure is mine. And in case any of you think otherwise….” Hiccup gave a sharp whistle and almost each one of the Hooligan men found themselves with a knife held to their throat, even Stoick himself. Another tribe had boarded the boat, and they were all too distracted with the treasure. 

     “Argghk!” gurgled Stoick. Alvin knew exactly what was happening. He felt his blood turn to ice. This is what he had feared. He was being held by a very large viking with so many tattoos it was hard to see the skin of his face, though there was no knife to his throat…

     Hiccup smirked as he drank in the terror of the surrounding vikings. “I planned a little ahead. I knew that keeping all the money and giving it out as I please would upset some of you, so I hired the Outcasts to persuade you.  Trust me it’s for your own good, really,” Hiccup purred, as he took out some of the jewels and admired them in the light of the setting sun. “Oh and you may be wondering why they chose to work for me.” Hiccup grinned cruelly, staring at Alvin, who was starting to feel his hands sweat. “As it turns out, the outcasts are missing their chief. A coward of a man that chose to run away rather than embrace the glory that comes with being the leader of the most feared viking tribe to ever live.” Was it just Alvin or was there a hint of jealousy in Hiccup’s voice? “And that man is none other than Alvin the “poor but honest farmer” himself.” Hiccup pointed at Alvin dramatically. There were several gasps from the crowd. 

     “No, not Alvin,” someone whispered. 

    “But He’s such a great guy.”

    “I can't believe it.”

    Alvin blushed as hundreds of eyes stared at him in awe, fear or disgust. It wasn’t like he asked to be chief of the Outcasts.  He would have rather been born literally anyone else. He ran away as a child to avoid them! Why couldn’t they just leave him alone and find a new chief!

    Hiccup sneered, “Now would all living defendants of Grimbeard kindly sign this contract that states I have completed ownership of the treasure. In blood . I know it’s a bit much, but I also understand how tricky vikings can be sometimes, so I can’t just take your word for it. If you don’t then I’m sure these lovely people,” Hiccup gestured to the Outcasts, with their sharp teeth and animalistic features, “would be more than thrilled to draw the blood required out of their your necks rather than your fingers.”

     “H-how could you do this son?” croaked out Stoick, looking  betrayed. 

     Hiccup shrugged, “Don’t take it too personally father.” 

     Alvin breathed in, I can't believe I’m going to say do this. He tried to stand as tall as he could. “Come on men! Fight back! We are vikings! We are warriors we aren’t just going to take this!” 

     “Yeah!” Another tall brunette viking called out, breaking free of his captor’s bonds just before he could have his throat slit. 

     “Here here!” Another fat viking called out. The outcast holding him was about to kill him, but the tall brunette viking jabbed a javelin in his back. The hooligans might not have been the most feared vikings, but they were still vikings after all. 

      Soon a bloody battle had broken out. Hiccup was a horrifying fighting, funnily enough so was his friend, Fishlegs, which Alvin didn’t expect. His face was red and he was swinging his sword like a madman. Huh, so he was a berserker, just like Alvin’s late wife. Strange, with his glasses and curly hair he almost looked a bit like her. 

     By some divine luck the Hooligans were actually beginning to win against the Outcasts, until the accident happened. While trying to help her owner fend off his uncle, and this was a complete accident, Fireworm set fire to the ship. 

     “Fire! Fire!”

     “Evacuate ship!” 

     Of course Fireworm forgot all her loyalties, panicking and flying away once the ship was ablaze. Soon too, the vikings forgot their battle and all scrambled to be the first person on the ship, all but one. Hiccup Horrendous haddock the third. He was digging around in Grimbeard’s treasure muttering, “Where is it? Where is it?” With increasing desperation. 

     “Move you bloody madman!” Fishlegs screamed at him, “leave the treasure you can’t use it when you’re dead.” Fishlegs was furious at Hiccup for staying, yet he didn’t leave him either. 

    Alvin rushed over to Hiccup’s side, trying to pull him away with force.

     “Don’t touch me! You dont understand it’s not here!” 

     “Kid, whatever it is, it isn’t worth it. Anything you’re looking for, it isn’t worth your life!” Alvin begged.

     “Leave me alone!” Hiccup yelled, almost biting Alvin like a feral dog. 

    Alvin was getting desperate. The fire was getting so close Alvin was starting to feel it’s burning heat. The mast of the ship snapped, falling down. The boat was going down! 

     “Kid, you are going to die !” 

     “I don’t care; I need the Endeavor!” 

     At this point Alvin was done trying to reason with him, he grabbed Hiccup by the back of his shirt and pulled him away from the chest, but it was too late now. The flaming ship startled to capsize into the sea below. Alvin pulled the two boys close to him instinctively, despite their protest, even though he knew that he couldn’t protect them from the sea. They were all going to drown in the icey archipelagic waters. Or were they?

Chapter Text

     Alvin realized, after the initial shock of the cold archipelagic waters, that he was still breathing. The capsizing ship must have created  an air pocket. 

     “It’s all your fault.” growled Fishlegs, when he opened his eyes, pushing away from Alvin, though Alvin couldn’t tell if he was addressing him or Hiccup. 

     Hiccup bit Alvin’s arms to make him let go, barbaric but effective. 

     “I never asked for you to stay behind for me!”  Hiccup snapped at Fishlegs.  

     “Odin’s abused liver Hiccup, you know damn well-”

     Alvin interrupted, stepping between the two fuming vikings. 

     “Children please, enough of this bickering. We need to work together to find a way out of here or none of us will  see the light of the surface ever again. There is only so long this air pocket will last us. 

     Indeed, when Alvin mentioned it, the others noticed that water was pouring in at an alarming rate. They only had a few minutes before they would be completely engulfed. 

     Alvin took off his helmet to wake up Toothless who was safely resting on his glossy black hair. Maybe, he could help. 

     “Toothless, oh Toothless, wake up,” Alvin cooed as he scratched the little dragon gently. 

     Hiccup stared in amazement, he wanted to laugh. Was this the same pathetic creature he had chucked into the sea months ago? Of course this scrawny man would have taken it in, he was too much of a sap to just let it die the way nature intended. 

     “Oh for Thor’s  sake, you can’t just baby it! Wake up you useless reptile!” The little boy yelled. 

     Toothless opened his big, bright green eyes in annoyance. In the darkness of the water his eyes acted as little lamps and they lit up the dimness just slightly. “W-w-what is it?” 

     “We need to find a way out of here, help us or I will turn you into a leather purse and cook your muscles into stew,” threatened Hiccup in perfect dragonese. 

     Alvin’s eyes widened, but not from the brutality of the threat. Frankly he had learned to expect that from Hiccup. No, what surprised him was something else entirely. 

     “Was that dragonese?” 

     Hiccup’s freckled face flushed in indignant red. “I um- uh NO  S-SHUT UP!”

     Alvin chuckled at the sudden defensiveness, “No, no, I actually think that’s really cool. I speak a little dragonese too, but not nearly as well as you. That’s really impressive.”

     “Yeah, well, thanks I guess,” huffed Hiccup, still looking like he was expecting some insult to follow. It was almost a little cute, the way his face reddened at the notion that he may indulge in something unviking-like. 

     Toothless scrunched up his nose, “ Toothless s-s-smells something.” 

     “What is it?" asked Alvin curiously. 

     “M-m-metal.” 

     Hiccup’s eyes lit up, as if he had had a sudden epiphany. 

     “Follow that dragon!” 

      “We’re going to follow him to the surface right?” Hiccup gave a sinister smile. Alvin did not like where this was going. “We are going to go find a way to the surface right? We are not going on a crazy treasure hunting escapade.” 

     “There’s been….a change of plans,” Hiccup sneered. “We will follow the dragon wherever it smells the metal, or-” Hiccup made a jabbing motion with the stormblade, just missing toothless by a hair, causing the rising water to ripple. Alvin gulped, point taken. He took a deep breath of air, what might have been his last and followed toothless into the pitch black waters. 

     For what felt like the longest time the only thing guiding him was Toothless’s glowing eyes. Eventually he shot through a tunnel and could breathe again.

     What he found in front of them, just a little bit ahead, was a door….it was the door to the treasure of grimbeard the ghastly. 

     Hiccup’s eyes gleamed the same way they did back on the ship. Alvin took a step back. “Where do you think you’re going?” Hiccup’s voice cut sharp metal through the air. 

     “Y-you can't be serious. It says do not open! And Grimbeard was not a nice man, it is definitely booby trapped,” Alvin protested. Hiccup smiled a wicked smile and pointed the stormblade just a millimeter away from Alvin's throat. 

     “I know, that is why you are going to open the door for me .” 

     Alvin gulped. He really did not want to open the door, unfortunately he wasn't being given much of a choice. 

     As the door slowly creaked open Alvin breathed a sigh of relief as nothing bad happened….yet. 

     The room was huge, filled with mountains of the most beautiful treasure. 

     Fishlegs immediately became enraptured by the treasure, putting on the most expensive jewels he could find, then taking them off when an even prettier trinket caught his eye. Hiccup however, seemed to be focused solely on looking for something, growling and muttering under his breath.

     “Well you have your treasure kid,” said Alvin. “Why don't you seem happy, like your friend?”

     “I dont give a damn about the treasure!” Snapped Hiccup. “I need the Endeavor!”

     “The what?” 

    “Grimbeard’s second best sword. The problem is I have no clue what it looks like!” 

     “Oooh, ok.” Alvin was trying very hard not to say, ooooh so you are crazy , though it was on his mind. “You’re good right, we're good, I can go right .” Alvin inched towards the door. 

     Hiccup looked up at him and slowly drew his sword, taking a step towards Alvin. “Oh no we aren’t good, Alvin. You are a descendant of Grimbeard. You have claim to the throne, which means I can not let you live.” Hiccup snapped his fingers and Fishlegs drew his sword too. 

     “Two against one, that’s unfair.”

     “The first rule of the pirate training program is that everything is fair game.” Alvin barely had time to doge before Hiccup swung the sword hard in his direction. He picked up the first sword he could find, it was a plain looking one, it looked rather out of place amongst all the brilliant treasure, and clumsily screwed him into his hook.

     He blocked Hiccup's attacks, but that left him vulnerable to Fishlegs. Luckily, for once, Toothless was eager to help. 

     “Ow!” Fishlegs shouted as Toothless bit him on the hand, causing him to drop his sword. “You’ll pay for this, you little worm with wings!”

     Now with Fishlegs safely out of the way it was just Alvin against Hiccup. The fight really wasn’t fair for two reasons. Firstly, despite his size Hiccup was one of the best fighters of the archipelago. Secondly, Alvin, who wasn't a great fighter at the best of times, was trying really hard not to hurt the child, which made all of his moves slower and softer. Hiccup finally managed to disarm Alvin. With a sharp thwack , he knocked Alvin's sword out of his stub. 

     He stuck the very tip of the sword into Alvin’s chest. “Ready to die?”

Chapter Text

      Just as Alvin was saying his last prayers to Odin there was a shift in the treasure. Something rose out of the glittery jewels. Something big, and terrifying. It was a great, octopus-looking dragon, a Monstrous Strangulator. Grimbeard had put a booby trap here after all. Its long tentacles flailed around as if they had a mind of their own. One tentacle grabbed Hiccup, another Alvin. Hiccup was able to slash through the tentacle with his sword and jump down, but Alvin was unarmed and thus unable to do the same. 

    “Please, help me!” He shouted desperately to the boy, wrigging, trying to break free. 

     Hiccup smirked, taking a step back. “Sorry, I can’t do that I’m afraid.” He was a little too excited to see the gruesome spectacle that was about to befall this poor man. 

     “Food?” The strangulator spoke. Its voice was slimy and made Alvin’s stomach turn. The dialect of dragonese it spoke was very old, so Alvin could hardly understand it, but he still could make out the basic words. 

     “No! Not food!” squeaked Alvin. “I’m poisonous. Very very poisonous!”

     “Oh the little snack can speak?” hissed the strangulator slowly. Alvin noticed Hiccup snickering in the corner of his vision, but he had other problems. “Shame I can’t eat you, you look tasty.” Alvin gulped. “I could still kill you though.” Alvin yelped involuntarily as the long, slimy tentacle of the strangulartor tightened, threatening to crush the breath out of his body. 

     “Y-you could but strangling is so v-very boring!” Alvin hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. 

     “Really?” The monster asked curiously, pausing for a second. 

      “O-oh yes, so very cliché” Alvin was fiddling with his fingers as he continued stalling. “Don’t you have any more exciting ways of killing me?”

     The dragon thought for a bit. “I can poison you.”

     Sweat was starting to drip down Alvin’s head. “Ooooh poison l-love poison, tell me more.”

     “One prick from my tale and you’ll be dead in five seconds flat.” Alvin winced a bit…unless….suddenly he  had a plan, a clever, if be it slightly desperate plan. 

     “Oooh that sounds so very interesting,” he forced a smile. “Let’s do that.” 

     Hiccup stared at Alvin in disbelief. Whas he just accepting death? Just like that. This was a level of cowardice that was almost akin to stupidity. 

     “What is he doing?” Hiccup asked Fishlegs. 

      Fishlegs shrugged. “How in the nine realms am I meant to know? You’re the one who speaks dragonese, nerd.”

    “Shut up,” Hiccup growled, resisting the urge to slap the glasses off of his friend. 

     The monster raised its  tail and pressed a long spike into Alvin’s shirt. At first Hiccup thought this was the end of Alvin, but then he saw a stream of cloudy blackness travel up the monster’s translucent body. 

     Hiccup whispered, low, “Did he just….that clever bastard.” Yes indeed, Alvin had used the dragon’s own poison against it. As soon as it reached the strangulater’s brain it blinked, surprised twitched and fell limp. The tendrils thrashed around for a bit but eventually they too went still. The tentacle holding Alvin crashed onto the ground, with him still in it.

      Alvin groaned as he whipped the muck off of his clothes and pulled his way out of the slimy tentacle. 

     Hiccup slowly clapped, approaching Alvin, the sound echoing loudly  through the cave. “That was impressive. I’m still going to kill you though.” 

     Alvin held his hands up, “What if we came to a compromise.’ 

     Hiccup growled, “I don’t compromise.”

     Alvin signed, “Just hear me out.I let you be, and you let me be.  All this treasure still belongs to you. I don’t need or want it. Toothless will help you get back up. I’m pretty sure dragons breathe oxygen, but Toothless is small and having him helping three people get up is a stretch, so you two can go without me.”

     Hiccup looked a bit surprised, as if what Alvin said had caught him off guard. “Where will you go then? Just die here?” 

     Alvin pointed towards a hole in the cave and entrance into the caliban caves.”

     Fishlegs snorted,” Your going there?! You’re a madman! Have fun being eaten alive by the most horrible creatures known to man.”

     “I have a bit of knowledge of the caves, and from what I have learned they lead out to an Romen outpost. After what you pulled today the outcasts will be looking for me. I can’t return to the archipelago for some time. Luckily, I’m  a quarter Roman, though my latin is rusty.

     Hiccup grinned. “How’s this for latin, ignavus es et stultus.” 

    Alvin frowned as he put together the words. “Hey! That is not very nice.”

     “I’m not very nice,” The boy sneered.

      “Oh Thor help me. What am I doing with my life?” A small part of Alvin was tempted to just leave Hiccup and Fishlegs here and let them fend for themselves….but they were only children….around the age of his son. Oh, how he longed to find his son one day.

     “Toothless, I need you to help these kids get back up to the surface. If  you do that, I’ll give you all the shellfish you can eat for a month.” 

     “Are you c-c-crazy?” squacked Toothless. “They tried to k-k-kill you.”

     “I know,” Alvin pleaded with the dragon, “but please, for me.”

     “It’s a s-s-stupid plan, but o-ok” 

     Alvin scratched the dragon lovingly one final time. “Remember when you’re done, fly south east till you come to the roman fort sinister, you’ll be able to tell by the guard’s clothes.”  Both Hiccup and Fishlegs felt disgusted by this display of sweetness. 

     “So I suppose this is goodbye,” Alvin  bowed to Hiccup politely, taking off his helmet. Hiccup did not return the gesture. 

     “It wont work?” The boy glared. 

     “Excuse me what?” 

     “Hiccup tried to puff his little chest out. “I’m not going to go easy on you next time I see you just because you’re nice to me now. Gratitude is for the weak. A true viking is never grateful .”

     Alvin chuckled, shaking his head, “keep telling yourself that. Stay safe kid.”

     “Rgh!” Hiccup rolled his eyes and left, with Toothless and Fishlegs trailing behind him. As the door slammed closed Alvin noticed that there was a little note attached to the back. Grimbeards last will and testament. He skimmed through it right till the end. Ps i hope you have a dragon on your hand or else you are done for. 

     “We’ll see about that,” thought Alvin as he folded up the paper, placing it into his pockets. He picked up the sword he had used to fight Hiccup. It screwed nicely into his hook, even if it was plane looking. Then he headed into the caliban caves.

Chapter Text

-tw physical abuse-

     “YOU STUPID BOY!” screamed Old Wrinkly slamming the table so hard it sent chest pieces flying.

     “I’m sorry, grandfather,” Hiccup’s head hung low. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, like a little soldier.

     “THE FANG FREE DRAGON WAS IN YOUR GRASP AND YOU LET HIM GO!?” howled the old man, practically tearing his lengthy beard out.

     “I didn’t expect a lost thing to be so…pathetic,” Hiccup said, through gritted teeth defending his actions. The wind cried outside the hut. It seemed to be mocking him, laughing at him with hysterical howls. Hiccup could hear the wind calling out: useless, pathetic, stupid, good for nothing. Hiccup scowled, clenching his jaw. Useless? I’ll show them useless! I’ll show them all! I’m going to become king!

     Old Winkly’s ice cold eyes popped. “That’s the point! It’s one of Grimbeard’s tricks, you good for nothing runt! You’re supposed to at least be clever, yet you can’t even do that right!”

     The old man raised his hand in anger. Hiccup braced himself. Smack! Hiccup was slapped clear across the face. For a withered old creature Hiccup‘s grandfather was surprisingly strong. Maybe it was all the hatred in his heart, maybe that made him stronger. Hiccup certainly believed the notion.

     Hiccup could fight back, he had taken on grown men and won before, but this particular fossil was just as stubborn as he was. Hiccup hated the fact that he needed the old man but that did not change the fact that he did. Everything Hiccup knew about Grimbeard, about the outside world, or about the prophecy was thanks to Old Wrinkly. He could take a beating or two…or three…. if it meant becoming king. He was tough. It didn’t hurt him. It didn't hurt him at all….

     “I’ll do better next time.” Hiccup recited a polite apology, because he knew he had to. Though, in his heart he was cursing the old man out.

     The flame of Old Wrinkly’s temper had cooled down a little. “See to it that you do,” he muttered.

Chapter Text

     “Alright, if you would please listen to me,” Gobber said gently. Some of the boys were drawing in the dirt, some picking weeds, absolutely none were listening. “Um boys, I’m trying to explain something very important.” 

     Hiccup rolled his eyes, “Listen up you miserable lot!” The boys immediately snapped their attention forward. 

     “Thank you Hiccup,” Gobber patted his head kindly. 

     “Don’t touch me.” 

     Gobber cleared his voice and turned to the boys. “Alright, I am here to supervise your boating practice expedition. We might not be warriors anymore but the sea is still in our tradition. Remember what I hope your parents taught you and try to stay safe. Also please be mindful that there are sharkworms near this area, so try to stay away from any warm currents. We don’t want to lose any children unnecessarily.” 

     “S-sharkworm,” trembled Snotlout. In his opinion, if there was any chance of running into those terrifying creatures, it would be better just to stay at home.

     “Don’t be such a baby,” sneered Fishlegs. 

     At sea, Snotlout’s boat, the hopeful puffin, was barely staying afloat. He was never that good at building and thanks to Hiccup, none of the other boys wanted to partner with him, so he was on his own. He just hoped it would stay above water long enough for him to successfully circumnavigate the island, and prove that he was not a complete waste of a viking. 

       Unfortunately, Odin decided to create a thick, dense  fog on this particular day, which made it near impossible for Snotlout to see the direction he was steering in. How far did he go? Was it just his imagination, or was that a sharkworm fin in the water?

     “Horrorcow, wake up, please wake up,” begged Snotlout, trying to shake the dragon awake, but she was out like a board. There it was again, this time clearer. Snotlout definitely saw a sharkworm fin in the water. He panicked. He had no idea where land was. Some way to the left he heard the sound of calling dragons. Maybe it was a fishing ship from the mainland. They always had dragons following them. He paddled desperately towards the noise. His mind was too racked with fear to think clearly. He arrived at a very large looking ship. Had he been in the right state of mind, he would have noticed that it was not a viking ship, or even a mainland ship but he was not. He picked Horrorcow up in his large arms and threw a rope, climbing up it. He hoped to find some friendly faces that would help him get back to Berk, unfortunately that's not what he discovered. 

     Onboard the ship there were Romans, and lots of them. Snotlout realized now that he was onboard a hostile ship. He might not have been a proper viking, but he wasn't a fool either. He hid behind some crates of supplies. 

     He glanced about. As he did, could see that the dragons calling weren’t hungry dragons following a fishing boat, but the sad cries of dragons trapped in cages, longing for freedom. 

     One very fat man was eating live nano dragons in honey. Snotlout felt a bit sick. Now, unlike most vikings Snotlout did know a little Latin, from listening in on Hiccup’s lessons. Still less than his cousin, but a little still. 

     “And then when we have kidnapped the heirs, the vikings will be too busy fighting themselves to notice us stealing all their dragons.” Snotlout did not yet know what this meant, but he had a bad feeling about it. He needed to get off and warn the others, but how to do so without being spotted? Suddenly, his eyes locked with the man next to the fat Roman console, a tall thin man, with a cloak covering his face. Snotlout  panicked, placing his hand on his scabbard, knowing fully damn well he was just about as useless at sword fighting as a jellyfish. 

     The man got up. Snotlout widened his stance, ready to either fight, or run if it came to it. But the man didn’t approach him, as Snotlout expected. Instead he walked over to one of the roman guards, and began to chat with him. As he did, Snotlout noticed that he discreetly picked up a tiny dragon, and electrosquirm, and placed it in the bowl of honey and nano dragons that the fat console was picking from. 

     Snotlout watched in awe and slight admiration, as the consoles fingers grasped at what he thought were another tasty nanodragon morsel, only to be met with a very nasty electrical shock. Every inch of this him jiggled, and the air smelled like burning flesh and hair. 

     The hidden man also discreetly slipped another small dragon into the trousers of the guard he was talking to, when his back was turned. The guard started to bounce up and down, trying to get the little dragon out. 

     This, combined with the still smoking fat console, drew the focus of the rest of the guards who were trying to figure out what in the name of Saturn was going on. In the confusion the hooded man slipped away, gracefully. Snotlout blinked in confusion. Where did he go?

     Snotlout almost screamed when he turned his head, only to find the mysterious person not three feet away from him. 

     “Sh! It’s only me,” The figure said gently, as he lifted up his hood to reveal Alvin the poor but semi-honest farmer. 

     “W-what are you doing here?” asked Snotlout looking Alvin up and down. The last time he had seen the man, he was on a sinking ship, that was on fire, but he supposed if Hiccup and Fishlegs could escape, so could Alvin. 

     “I’m just hiding out here for a little bit. You know, until the Outcasts stop looking for me. You aren't hurt are you?” Alvin quickly looked at Snotlout over. 

     “I’m fine.” 

     “That’s good.” Alvin pet the top of Horrorcow’s scaly, spotted, brown head, it made him miss Toothless even more. “You can use the distraction to sneak back onto your boat,” he whispered. Snotlout nodded quickly. He wasn't exactly keen on staying here. “Oh before you go!” Alvin called as Snotlout turned around. “Could you make sure TOothless is ok? I haven't seen him since I told him to help Hiccup and his friend out of the water. I’m very worried.” 

    Snotlout nodded, “I’ll see what I can do.” He thought about how, if Toothless had been with Hiccup, that little, bratty dragon was already probably a leather purse or worse, but he decided not to mention it to Alvin. 

     As Snotlout shimmed down the rope, with one hand, as his other was preoccupied with Horrorcow, still asleep peacefully, despite the pandemonium. The fog had cleared just enough for him to see. As he sailed back to Berk, his pathetic excuse for a boat barely floating, he couldn’t help but feel like the Romans were up to no good. What was it they said about kidnapping the heirs? He would have to tell Stoick. 

Chapter Text

       It happened on a crisp spring day. Hiccup was harassing Fishlegs about his latest songs, sappy love ballads. Why Fishlesgs could not write songs about epic war sagas, Hiccup would never understand. 

     The two boys stiffened as they felt a large shadow cast over them, blocking out the rays of the sun. When they turned around they could see two huge, burly,  Roman soldiers towering over them, dressed fully in their armor, holding their spears.

     Hiccup wasn’t sure if he was feeling more curious or annoyed. He was about to ask the Romans just what they were doing here when one of them spoke to the other. They spoke Latin, of course, but Old Wrinkly had taught Hiccup Latin long ago, so unlike Fishlegs, he understood what they said. 

     “Which one is the chief’s son?”

     The second soldier scratched his beard, “I don’t know, the boss said he was extraordinarily small and skinny.”

     Hiccup’s face turned red and his cheeks puffed out. He clutched the hilt of his sword with an iron grip, but he did not draw it, not quite yet. 

     The first soldier pointed to Hiccup, “He is the smaller of the two. I say we take him.” That soldier was definitely going to lose some fingers, Hiccup decided. 

     The second soldier shook his head, pointing to Fishlegs, adjusting a gold earring of his. “But that one is decked out in more gold than an emperor. He’s probably the chief's son.” 

     “Excuse me!” Hiccup snapped his fingers loudly to get the guard's attention. “Where are you planning on taking us exactly ?”

     The guards looked surprised, like they weren't expecting Hiccup to speak to them in their native tongue. 

     The first guard puffed out his chest, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. “We are taking you to fort sinister.” 

     Hiccup grinned. “Lead the way.” 

     The guard looked confused. “Did you do the not understanding what I said? I’m kidnapping you.” 

      Hiccup rolled his eyes, nodding, “Yes, yes I got that.” Hiccup might not have liked Romans on a personal level due to his Viking pride, but he admired their military and gladiator fights. Entrance into the fort would be an opportunity to learn more about one of the best armies in this part of the world, and possibly sow some chaos. 

     The guard stared at the child like he had lost his mind, “You are coming….willingly?”

     “Yes.” Hiccup grabbed Fishlegs hands an pulled him forward violently, “And he’s coming too.” 

     “What?!” Fishlegs was not amused at this sudden unplanned escapade. “B-but the show!”

     Hiccup’s grip became tighter. “Oh shut it Fishlegs. It will only be a few weeks. Besides, you're always telling me how much you want a vacation from here.”

      “Being a prisoner is not a vacation!” yelled Fishlegs. 

     Hiccup lowered his voice, whispering, “Well we won’t be prisoners very long. I’m going to find out just what made Rome so great an empire so we can use that information here, and then I’m going to tear the entire place down, and you are helping.” Hiccup said the last bit with a great deal of conviction and Fishlegs understood that his fate had been predetermined. 

     “I really hate you,” he whispered back through gritted teeth. 

     Hiccup bowed. “Thank you, I try.” 

     Hiccup was more well behaved on the journey there than quite possibly in his entire life. It took a lot of self-restraint but if he showed his true colors. If he did, the Romans might just think it not worth it in the end to kidnap him. That's how it was before when He was kidnapped. His parents didn’t pay the ransom or even ask to have him back, he was just let go for being a menace. 

     As they approached sinister Hiccup’s eyes widened. He would never admit it but the scale of the gigantic building greatly impressed him.

     “There is an order that you are going to be doing a meeting with the consul and prefect.”

     “Good,” Hiccup grinned. He loved meeting authority figures face to face. It made it so much easier and funnier to overthrow them. 

     When they entered the room, Hiccup tilted his head. “Is this the consul?” He asked. He was expecting a brilliant military leader, not a blob that looked as though lightning had struck it recently. 

     Fishlegs leaned in, “Maybe the reason Rome sent him all the way up here is because they just wanted to be rid of him.” 

     Hiccup chuckled, high-fiving his friend. “Agreed.” 

The fat consul leaned over to the thin prefect, a man whose face was shrouded in a cloak, and who was tapping his hand nervously on his leg. He seemed to be asking what the Vikings were saying. Hiccup guessed that when the man translated he probably lied because the consul just smiled and nodded. The thin man moved his hands to rest at his side, and WAIT -hange on- was that a hook? 

     Suddenly Hiccup had a feeling that he knew this cloaked stranger very well. 

     The man approached them slowly, and removed his hood. Hiccup suspicions had been correct. “Hello, Alvin the Treacherous .” 

     “It’s the thin prefect for now,” said Alvin. “And I’m not a Treacherous, not by choice anyway.”  

     Hiccup scoffed. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back, “So you're helping the Romans, the sworn enemies of us Vikings,  are you, that seems pretty treacherous and traitorous to me.” 

     Alvin’s face turned red. This kid had literally betrayed his entire tribe by working with the outcasts yet he had the audacity to call Alvin a traitor? “For your information, I had nothing to do with the plans to kidnap you, or to steal the dragons! I’m here to perform damage control and make sure things don't go as bad as they could !”

      “Clever, I have to admit,” smirked Hiccup. “You're still a coward though.”

     Alvin signed. This kid was never going to be polite, he had just accepted it. Suddenly, Alvin noticed something peculiar about Hiccup’s waistcoat. 

     “I’m sorry, but is your waistcoat…smoking?” 

     Hiccup looked down. Sure enough, rings of thin gray smoke were coming up from the jacket. “Agnk!” Exclaimed Hiccup. Fishlegs snorted and Hiccup’s face grew hotter. “Shut up.” He growled. 

     Alvin couldn’t help but wonder if….maybe….He reached over to Hiccup. 

     “Hey!” The boy tried to swat his hand away. 

     “I’m sorry, if you would just let me check,” Alvin tried to reach inside Hiccup’s pocket. He felt his heart sink in disappointment as the only thing he felt was a small notebook, no tiny green dragons to be had. 

     He drew it out, curious to see what it might be, and flipped through the pages. “What is this?”

     Hiccup snarled, trying to grasp for the book but Alvin held it just a little out of arm’s reach, which wasn’t very hard seeing as Hiccup was almost less than half his height.  “Give that back!” Hiccup shouted, but Alvin wasn’t listening. He was too enraptured by the content. It was actually rather impressive, this homemade dragon dictionary. Something like this would really help him to improve his dragonese when talking to Toothless. 

     Finally, Hiccup managed to grab hold of the book, but Alvin didn’t let go. “Listen Hiccup, if you could just let me borrow it, please.” 

     “No!” Hiccup shouted as he tugged at the book, trying to free it from Alvin, but the man held on just as tightly. 

     “Please, I need it, just for a little.”

     “Get your own!”

     There was a rudden RIP sound, and both Vikings stumbled back each holding a half of how to speak dragonese. 

      Alvin felt  absolutely terrible about what he had done. He gave Hiccup the half he held sheepishly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

     Hiccup looked like he was about to burst from anger. He snatched that half, of HIS OWN HARD WORK  and tried to put the pieces back together. He had no clue what he hoped to accomplish in this. It was not like they would magically seal together. As much as Hiccup would hate to admit it, he almost felt bad about breaking other people’s things so carelessly, now that he could feel it hurt him so deeply. He didn't feel bad though, because viking are tough and don't do that.

     “I’m really sorry kid.” 

     Hiccup’s hands were shaking, and a couple of tears pricked in his eyes. “You can take that apology and shove it up your ass for all I care!” 

     Alvin frowned, “Perhaps it is time for you to rest little one. Guards, escort them to where they will be staying,” Alvin ordered in Latin. 

Chapter Text

    Hiccup and Fishlegs let themselves be led up the flight of stares and into the prison cell. The door creaked open. 

     “Are you crying,” sneered Fishlegs. 

     “I wasn’t crying,” lied Hiccup angrily, already drying his tears.

     Fishlegs snickered. He was going to tease Hiccup so much about this later. 

     In the cell they were placed in, there sat a small girl, a few inches shorter than Hiccup, which was impressive considering Hiccup was the shortest boy in his tribe. She was sitting quietly by the window, looking like she had been crying for hours. Fishlegs nudged Hiccup and pointed to the bottom of her dress. There Hiccup could see the Bog-Burglar crest embroidered. 

     Hiccup immediately drew his sword, the Stormblade, The Bog-Burglars and the Hooligans had a blood feud and Hiccup was just about one of the least forgiving vikings you could ever have the displeasure of meeting. In his mind the only time anything was water under the bridge was when the water ran red with blood. The only good Bog-Burglar, to him, was a dead Bog-Burglar.

      “Oy!” He yelled to get the girl's attention, as she melancholically stared out the barred window. It would be too boring to just kill her without a proper fight. Hiccup gave her approximately three seconds before lunging forward. The girl’s eyes widened in terror, and she quickly drew her own blade and parried Hiccup’s blow. 

     Hiccup was rather impressed with the girls fighting abilities. She was able to fight off both him and Fishlegs even though she was smaller than either of them.  Despite himself he grinned. This was a proper good fight, and he was having the time of his life. 

     Eventually the three children grew too exhausted to continue battling. 

     “Truce?” asked the girl, quietly panting, her brow soaked in sweat.

     Reluctantly Hiccup, who was also tiring, nodded. He lowered his weapon, but did not sheath it yet . “Who are you?” he asked, wanting to know who this little Bog-Burglar was and how she developed such talents. 

     “Camicazi,” said the girl softly, practically whispering.

     Hiccup snapped at her in annoyance, he had no patience for softies (or anyone really) “What are you being so quiet for? There is no one here!”

     The girl whimpered, covering her face with her long, incredibly tangled blond hair. 

     Fishlegs rolled his eyes. “Great a crybaby.” 

     “I-i’m not a cry b-baby," stammered Camicazi indignantly, trying to salvage the little pride she had left. 

     Hiccup smirked. He could tell he was getting under her skin and he loved it. He decided to poke some more. “Prove it then, prove you aren’t just a pathetic little girl, or go back to playing dollies in the corner.”

     “I -I’m not a crybaby, I’m a v-viking warrior!” exclaimed Camiazi, slightly more exasperated this time. 

     Fishlegs couldn’t hold back his laughter, nor did he want to. This little blond pipsqueak was a warrior? Please . 

     “I am!” Camicazi’s face turned redder, as she clenched her fists. She was supposed to be the heir to the Bog-Burglars, but everyone just thought she was a big joke. “I can sword fight well! Plus, I’m good at being stealthy. That has to count for something!” 

     Hiccup raised his eyebrows, interested, “Oh? How stealthy are we talking?”

     To answer his question the girl quietly plopped Fishlegs’s lobster claw necklace, which he kept hidden in a pocket in his coat, into Hiccup’s hands. 

     Fishlegs couldn’t believe what he just saw. He immediately reached into his pocket, only to find it empty. “You little minx! How did you-”

     Camicazi shrugged. “Like I said, I'm good at burglary.” 

Hiccup laughed, holding onto  Fishlegs’s pathetic worn looking heirloom, twirling it with his fingers, before he snatched it away from Hiccup with a scowl and threw it back in his pocket. 

     “Wow! You are a lot more impressive than you look blondie. We could use a person like you on our side.”

     “Ah,” Camicazi took a small step back, nervously. “N-no thanks you seem like great people,” she lied politely, “but-”

     Hiccup cut her off scowling, lifting up his sword again. He spoke dangerously slowly. “Let me rephrase the question. You are either with us or you are against us. Now, little crybaby, which one is it going to be?”

     Camicazi’s eyes widened in fear. “I-I guess i’m with you then,” she stammered. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice anyway. 

     Hiccup grinned wickedly, “welcome to the team, crybaby .”

Chapter Text

 Over the next few days, fewer and fewer guards came to check on the children. Hiccup had a nasty habit of pulling horribly cruel pranks on any soldier that happened to set foot in the room. It was one of Odin’s miracles that he hadn’t killed anyone yet. 

     “Careful Hiccup,” warned Fishlegs, as the mean-spirited ten-year-old pushed another unconscious guard down the stairs. “They might stop bringing us food if you keep this up.” 

     Hiccup rolled his icy blue eyes, watching the body tumble down the many tall flights with fascination. It was devoid of its previous armor and weapons, which had been stolen by Hiccup. They were far too massive for him to use practically, so he just kept them in a corner. He did this solely for entertainment. 

     “I-is he dead?” Camicazi whispered, flinching as the now very much bruised and broken body hit the floor. 

     Hiccup waved his hand dismissively. “No no, see he twitched.” He didn’t particularly care about the well-being of that Roman guard, but apparently according to Camicazi murder was “wrong.”

     Camicazi tried not to be sick. “You…you know I could help us all escape right?”

     “Yes I know,” Hiccup huffed, frustrated that they were having this conversation again . “My answer hasn’t changed. We are staying here until I say so. If you want to leave, fine be my guest, just don't be surprised when next time we meet my sword is piercing your pathetic stomach. Got it ?” 

     Camicazi swallowed hard, “O-ok.” Odin’s beard, these boys were absolutely crazy. 

    As it turned out, Fishlegs wasn't incorrect in assuming Hiccup’s behavior would have consequences. Pretty soon, the guards just stopped coming. Instead, their meals were delivered under the door which had about a half inch gap between it and the floor. It also meant that the meals had to be completely squished.

     “This stuff is the worst,” said Hiccup, digging into another piece of flatbread, like a wolf into a rabbit. “When will they send some real food?”

    “Is the only thing that fits through the door,” scowled Fishlegs, angrily chewing on his own piece of the tasteless bread. “If you hadn’t scared the guards from coming, we would still be eating proper food,” he glared up at Hiccup, the light reflecting off of his glasses only serving to make him look angrier. 

     “Oh shut up, Fishlegs,” scoffed Hiccup, “I was only having some fun, besides you enjoyed it as much as me.” 

     There was a polite knock on the door. Hiccup's ears perked up. They hadn’t had any visitors in days. 

     “Come in if you da-“ warmed Hiccup dramatically before Fishlegs clamped his hand over Hiccup’s mouth. “Come in please if you have something decent to eat!” 

     There was the click of locks opening. The heavy door creaked open, and Alvin stepped in. 

     Hiccup’s face turned red as he scowled. He remembered how the man destroyed his precious journal. He HATED him so very much. He folded his arms. 

     Alvin rubbed the back of his thin neck guiltily. “I see you're still upset at me, which is fair I suppose. I am really sorry though, kid.”

     “Don’t call me kid,” Hiccup snapped sharply. 

     Camicazi, who was watching from a corner as if trying to make herself as small as possible, raised her hand timidly, “But um aren’t you a kid?”

     “Shut up!” yelled Hiccup.

     “O-ok.” The little blonde girl shut up, pulling on her hair to cover her reddening face.

      Alvin noticed the girl. He didn’t know much about her, other than that she was the heir to the Bogburglar tribe. From the things he had heard from both Vikings and Roman guards, she seemed like a nice girl. She didn’t strike Alvin as the type of person to be friends with Hiccup of Fishlegs. 

     “I brought you something to eat,” Alvin said, hoping to ease some of the tension with a gift. He offered up a variety of fruits, nuts, and even some pieces of salted meat. 

     Hiccup’s pride refused to let him take anything, but Fishlegs snatched up a handful greedily. “Oh thank Odin above, some REAL food.” He chewed the nuts and honey dates savering their sweetness. “How do you expect anyone to live on flatbread for three days?” He asked, lifting his eyes to meet Alvin, his voice filled with the annoyance of a preteen celebrity star used to having everything they want handed to them on a silver platter. 

     Alvin frowned, crossing his arms. “Maybe if you didn’t brutally injure every person to bring you food they wouldn’t have stopped doing so.” 

     “Blame Hiccup.” Fishlegs, glared at his friend, devouring the well-seasoned piece of dried mutton. . 

     “Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s rude,” scolded Alvin. 

     Fishlegs rolled his eyes, “I can do whatever I want, you aren’t my father.”

     Alvin signed, “I suppose you’re right, but I am just trying to help you you know.”

     “So, why are you here?” asked Hiccup leaning against the wall, trying to keep his cool. He could have started a fight with Alvin as soon as he walked in but he was both curious and tired. Camicazi’s crying about how much she missed her family had kept Hiccup up at night no matter how much straw he tried to stuff into his ears. 

     Hiccup didn’t miss his family, and he doubted they would miss him much either. Once, when he was kidnapped for ransom a few years ago his father didn’t even bother to read the demands. In fact he wrote that they could “keep him if they wanted.” Fortunately, as it turns out, after Hiccup bit off his handler's second finger, they didn’t really want him after all. In any case, Hiccup didn’t see what the big deal was, or why Camicazi was so upset.

     “Well I thought it was my duty, as both an adult and s fellow Viking, to inform you of what the Romans are planning with you,” answered Alvin.

      Hiccup raised his eyebrow, “Oh? And what will that be?” 

    Alvin glanced around as if to check the room for listeners, then he walked close to Hiccup, leaning down and whispering in his ear, “There is rumor of a coming gladiator battle.”

     Hiccup’s eyes lit up. “Gladiators? We are going to be gladiators?” 

      Alvin nodded. If this was any other child in the world he’d be concerned with them being so excited about being forced into an arena to battle, but given the track record of this particular child he was counting on it.. 

     Hiccup grinned, his eyes unfocusing a bit as he daydreamed of blood, carnage, violence, and most importantly, the glory of the victors. 

     “You mean to say we get to be real gladiators?” he asked. 

     Alvin nodded solemnly again, in confirmation. 

     “This is so cool!” Hiccup exclaimed in almost a mousy squeak. His face turned red once he realized how dorky he had sounded.  Fishlegs snickered at this new teasing material, tucking it into his mind for the future. Hiccup glared back at him. “Shut up or I’ll kill you before any Roman in the arena can.”

     Fishlegs grinned cheekily, putting his hands up, still suppressing laughter. 

     Camicazi appeared to be the only one actually scared of the notion. Fishlegs, even though he disliked the thought of fighting for entertainment, had been Hiccup’s right hand for several years, and things like this were to be expected. Besides, it was still a show, and he was good with those. 

     “But don’t worry,” added Avin helpfully, “I will get you out of here before that time comes, I promise.” His eyes specifically lingered on the petrified blond girl. 

     Hiccup scowled, “If you value your life I suggest that you do not. ” 

     Alvin narrowed his lips and gave a curt nod. He was rescuing those children whether they had the sense to want to be rescued or not. 

     When he left Hiccup placed his hands casually in his waistcoat pocket, only to be met with a nasty surprise. 

     “The fang-free dragon!” He shouted. “It’s missing!” Hiccup clenched his fists, his little body shaking, “That son of a bitch took it while I was distracted!”

     How DARE he?! Hiccup NEEDED that dragon! Hiccup was so furious that he lashed out at the nearest object, punching the stone wall as hard as he could. Immediately his mind went blank, and for a moment, the only thing he felt was pure pain. Despite himself, his eyes began to water. 

     “Are you ok?” Asked Camicazi, in a worried tone, as she stepped closer, “Your hand looks hurt. Let me see it.”

     Hiccup gritted his teeth, “I”M FINE! I DO NOT NEED HELP!” but the pain was so intense it was almost unbearable, so reluctantly, he let Camicazi look at it. 

     Hiccup bit his tongue as Camicazi gently touched his left hand. “That looks….bad”

     “IT'S FINE!” Hiccup protested trying to move his hand away from her but failing do to the sheer pain of moving it. 

     “We need to get you help,” Camicazi stood up and walked towards the door. 

     “Wait, no don't!” Hiccup tried to call out, but it was too late

     Camicazi stood at the door. “We need help! Please! Somebody help!” 

     Hiccup tensed, cringing. Now all of Rome would think him to be some pathetic weak little kid. This was not the image of a feared Viking warrior. 

     “Be quiet!” He demanded, hoping that no one had heard yet, but unfortunately, someone had and was quickly climbing up the stayers. 

     Hiccup groaned as the door swung open once more, and Alvin stepped in back. “What’s going on? What's needed?  Is anyone hurt?”

     “Camicazi pointed To Hiccup, who hastily whipped the burning tears from his bright blue eyes using his still-functional hand. The other hand was at his slide, shaking, no matter how hard he tried to keep it still. It was a little swollen, and bent at an unusual angle. Upon seeing the condition of the boy Alvin immediately felt guilt and sympathy swelling up in his heart.

     “I’ll get the supplies,” was all he said, before hastily leaving.

     “Way to go Crybaby,” seethed Hiccup, through gritted teeth, “now my arch-enemy will think I'm nothing more than just a dumb little kid.”

     “I-I’m sorry i d-didn’t know,” Camicazi stuttered, which only made Hiccup angrier. Fortunately, his attention was distracted from her when the door opened once more.

     Alvin reentered with a pack of supplies and gestured for Hiccup to come closer. Hiccup huffed and scowled, but did so reluctantly.

     Alvin wrapped the wound in bandages, treating the fracture as best as he could, trying to be gentle. “You really have to be more careful you know,” he scolded, the way a father would. He was a surprisingly good medic, as he had learned from his mother. 

     Hiccup ignored him and decided to pivot the subject. “You stole the fang-free dragon,” He muttered accusingly. 

     Alvin sighed as he continued.  “His name is Toothless, and I didn’t steal him. He was never yours to begin with. Besides, I don't think you’d make a very fit parent to a baby dragon.” 

     Hiccup rolled his eyes, “What are you talking about?  I gave him food, and water too. It’s not like I’m gonna kill the pathetic bug yet.” 

      Alvin frowned. “But what about love, comfort, children need those too you know.” Hiccup couldn’t stop himself from physically gaging. 

“Oh don’t be so sentimental. It’s nauseating me.”

     Alvin cuckold at the boy's overly dramatic response, “Don’t tell me you don’t feel loved at home.”

     “I don’t need love,” answered Hiccup with a huff. “People fear me, and they respect me.”

     Alvin’s frown deepened, that didn’t sound right to hear that from a child. His own childhood, though not perfect, had always been caring and warm. He wondered where his mother was now, around a decade ago she disappeared. “Well,  you can always come to me, you know, your good old Uncle Al.”

     “The fact that I share a drop of blood with a man as pathetic as you infuriate and insults me,” deadpanned Hiccup.  

     “All done.” Alvin stepped back to admire his handy work. “Do try to be careful moving forward.” Hiccup rolled his eyes. 

     Alvin couldn’t help but feel something tugging on his heart as he left the room. 

Chapter Text

Now what had Alvin been up to all this time? Let’s rewind the clock to just a little after Snotlout made his daring escape. 

     Alvin was sitting alone in his room, after all the chaos on the ship, his coat layed out of a chair in a lazy manner. They had thankfully not yet discovered that he was the one causing trouble, and he prayed to Odin that they would never realize this. For supposedly civilized people, they sure had some creative execution methods.   

     It was late and the sky was turning a beautiful array of oranges and yellows, not that Alvin could see it from his small windowless room. He thought that once he moved his way up the ranks he might get a better room, but apparently not. 

     He collapsed on the straw bed making it creak under his weight. He let out a tired groan, and held his head in his hands. He had to stop the Romans’ plot, it was wicked and cruel, but how? He was just one man. How can one man topple an empire? 

     After mopping for a few minutes Alvin decided that he had to at least try to think up a clever plan, even if no good came from it. He closed his eyes and concentrated really hard: nothing. He tried again. As his mind turned gears in the silence of the room, he heard a faint buzzing coming from the coat. 

       Oh right , thought Alvin, That must have been the nano dragon I saved. 

      He, with some effort, pulled himself out of bed and walked towards the coat. He reached into the pocket, “hey it's ok, I don't want to hurt you.” Unfortunately, his message of peace didn’t quite get across. “Ow!”

     He pulled his hand out of the pocket. The nano dragon that had bitten him was still attached. “What was that for?” He shook it a little to get the creature to let go and perch on top of his arm. Alvin ran his fingers across the brite mark. It wasn't deep enough to draw blood, but it still stung like crazy. 

    “Great big wicked Roman! Gluttonous dragon eater,” the little dragon muttered in a high pitched voice that sounded a little like a bumble bee.

     Alvin frowned. He straightened his back indignantly. “I don't eat dragons if that's what you're mad about, and believe me, I am just as frustrated to be here as you are. Besides, it is terribly rude of you to bite me. I did save your life.”

     The dragon grew quiet, thinking, so that only the flapping of its wings could be heard, “I suppose you are right, human...” It huffed, a pinprick of smoke coming out of its nose. “Even if you are large and loud and stupid you did save me.”

     “Gee, thank you for all the compliments,” Alvin said sarcastically.  The nano dragon didn’t pay any attention at all. 

      “This is why I propose to you a deal. You help clean this honey off of me. Delicious as it is, I cannot fly with it stuck between my wings, and my round cannot reach it there.  In exchange I will do you ONE favor at a time of your choosing.”

     Now, Alvin didn’t really see how a dragon so small could be any help at all, but he was going to help nonetheless. He gently picked up the dragon with his thumb and index finger, and placed him on the table. 

     He was a beautiful nanodragon. His scale shone a dull, dusty red like rust.   He had his little snout turned upwards as arrogantly. This act of perceived superiority from a being Avin could easily squish with his hand almost made him want to laugh. Luckily for the nanaodragon, Alvin wasn’t in the habit of hurting creatures weaker than him, even if they were rude. 

    “Uh, wait here I'll get the cloth and water.”

     Alvin hoped that the water wasn’t too cold. It had been sitting on his nightstand since the evening, so of course the archipelago air had filled it. He dipped the cloth in and wrung the excess water out, letting it drip back into the cup. Cleaning between the wings of the little nanodragon was a difficult task, because he had to make sure to be extra delicate, one wrong move and he could easily break a wing. He bit his tongue concentrating hard as he got the last little bit of honey off. 

     When he was done he gently patted the dragon down with a cloth to remove access drops of water. There was not a single spot of honey left on his scaly body. 

     The dragon glanced back and flapped his wings a few times, seemingly pleased with the job. “Farewell human with an ugly mustache , when you need me, call my name: oh, great zigarasitic.” Alvin nodded politely as he opened the door and the creature flew off, thinking to himself,  I hope I am never so desperate I have to do that.  

Chapter Text

 Alvin was pacing in his room anxiously. He had hoped that the children would be fighting against gladiators. Though he didn’t like the idea of putting 3 preteens against grown men who had their whole lives to train, he also knew that Hiccup and Fishlegs could stand their own against men four times their size, but evidently even this was too much to hope for. The children were going to be fighting sharkworms, some of the most vicious dragons in the inner iles.

     “This is a complete disaster,” groaned Alvin, practically tearing chunks of dark chestnut hair out of hair out of his scalp. 

       Toothless, who was curled up on the bed let out an angry huff of smoke. “K-k-keep it down, Toothless is trying to take a n-n-nap.” 

       Alvin stopped paced. “Sorry Toothless,” he whispered. It felt nice to have Toothless's warm presence in the room with him again. He had missed the little dragon so much, he was almost sick with anxiety. 

     “I cant believe I’m doing this,” muttered Alvin as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “OH GREAT ZIGARASTICA!” he yelled as loud as he could, leaving his vocal cords slightly sore after. Toothless’s tail straightened and he jumped up, nearly falling off of the bead. 

       After he fell back down onto the matrices he growled. “M-m-mean m-m-master w-w-waking up p-p-poor T-toothless from his nap,” he muttered  angrily, already planning on setting fire to the poor man's pillow in the middle of that night. 

     “I’m really sorry Toothless, but this is important. I need to save the kids, and this is the only idea I have.” 

     “W-w-why are we saving the m-mean s-short viking, he k-k-kidnapped T-toothless and t-tied him up!” whined toothless indignantly. 

       “I’m not going to leave a child to fight for his life.” he answered firmly. “No matter how bad he is.” 

     “But that ch-child is m-m-mean. He t-tied toothless up and only gave him the y-y-yucky bits of the f-fish.” 

     Alvin sighed, “Yes Toothless, that was very bad of him but that doesn't mean he deserves to die.”

     Toothless let out a frustrated puff of smoke. “You’re too s-s-soft. D-dragons are never this s-soft.” 

Alvin crossed his arms, “Well I’m not a dragon, and don’t forget, I'm still in charge here and we are saving those children, and that is final.” 

      “D-dont get your t-t-tail twisted, T-toothless was only g-giving some advice.” 

     “Sorry Toothless,” apologies Alvin. “I didn’t mean to sound cross, I’m just frustrated. I thought that maybe by some miracle, Zigarastic would actually come. Ha! I am a fool,” Alvin rubbed his head sitting on the edge of the bed. Toothless, sensing his master's distress, licked the back of his hand. Alvin petted the little dragon’s smooth green scales. 

     Suddenly Toothless's ears perked up and his pupils shrunk, focusing on one dot in the corner in the room. He arched his back carefully, like a cat about to pounce. 

     Alvin gave him a puzzled look. “What are you,” then Alvin's eyes wandered to the spot toothless was staring at, then he saw it, a dragon so small he didn’t even notice it was there. Zigarastica had kept his promise. After the moment of relief he was snapped out of it by the realization that he had a rather pressing problem right now. Toothless's tiny little claws were extending, digging into the mattress. He let out a low growl, a hunting growl. 

     Alvin’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, “Toothless No! N-” but he was too late. The little dragon pounced on Zigarastica before he could grab him, and keep him at bay. Alvin thanked Thor that Toothless didn't seem to be chewing, at least not yet. 

     “Spit.” Alvin ordered. Toothless just stared up at him with his large, bright green eyes, bating his exceptionally song lashes. Alvin was not in the mood for games. “SPIT.” The dragon still would not comply. “Oh for the love of Odin, why do you have to be such a pain Toothless?” shouted Alvin,  swinging his hands in the air. 

     The little dragon gave an indignant sniff and pretended to swallow. Alvin was not amused. 

     “You know I can still see the dragon in your mouth, now SPIT. I’ll give you all my honey haddock for a week.” Alvin was rather fond of the Roman’s honey haddock. It tasted just the way his mother used to make it. Alvin hoped that wherever she was, that woman was still making her amazing meals. No doubt she learned the recipe from her mother, who was a Roman woman, but he was willing to part with it for a few weeks. 

     Toothless, as it happened, was also rather fond of honey haddock. The mulled the idea over in his head and decided that a double baked smoked and glazed fish covered in herbs and lemons sounded a lot nicer than one tiny nanodragon. Reluctantly, he spit the nanodragon out onto the floor. 

      “This is an outrage, this is an insult!” angrily buzzed Zigarastica. 

     “I’m really sorry,” Alvin said with sincerity. “Here let me help you.” He took a pair of socks that were drying on his bed and did his best to help dry off the little dragon. 

     “You are extremely lucky that I am so generous and magnificent that I will still grant you a favor,” Zigarastica huffed. 

     “Oh yes,” Alvin said, feeding up the little dragon's ego in hopes that it would help his case after what Toothless did.  “You are absolutely magnificent and wonderful and the most intelligent creature that ever lived.” Alvin was laying the praise on strong but he knew that he the favor he was going to be asking for would be a lot. 

     “So what is it you want, oh human with an ugly, twisted mustache?” 

     Alvin ignored the rather rude comment about his mustache. He crouched down onto his knees and whispered something into the little dragon's ears. 

    Zigarastica frowned. “That's two favors technically.” 

     “Please,” begged Alvin, “It’s the only plan I have-PLUS, it will really anger the Romans.” 

     Zigarastica flapped his wings thoughtfully. Alvin was right in his assumption that the little dragon would still harbor a grudge for the Romans.

     “Great fat dragon-consuming blobs,” muttered Zigarastica. “Ok, human, you have yourself a deal.”

     “Oh thank thor,” breathed out Alvin, “and thank you Zigarastica, thank you so much.” All Alvin had to do now was wait. 

Chapter Text

     “Oh this is Going to be so good,” Hiccup was currently mercilessly sparing against Camicazi. She was good, but he was still better, and had a lot more stamina. He thwacked her in the chest with the blunt side of his sword. 

   “Ow!” Camicazi cried out. 

     “If that was a Roman, you would be dead,” Hiccup stated, preparing another swing. On some levels Camicazi appreciated hiccup’s unconventional teaching methods, however, that didn’t make the bruises hurt any less.

   “Keep it down,” groaned Fishlegs, who was dozing off on a pile of straw next to the window. It was by no means sunny but it did get ever so slightly more light. 

     Hiccup paused his sparring with Camicazi and crossed his arms, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to prepare.”

     “I am preparing,” shot back Fishlegs, not opening his eyes. “I’m making sure I'm well rested. That's very important.”

     Hiccup rolled his eyes, normally he would have dragged his friend up by the hair for at least ten minutes of practice, but he was in a particularly good mood today, so he let him rest. 

    There was a knock on the heavy door. “It’s time!” Hiccup practically squealed. “How do I look?” Hiccup usually wasn’t one to worry about appearances, but this was different, this was a show. 

     Camicazi knitted her eyebrows. Uuuuh….. terrifying?” The truth was, Hiccup looked like a ginger bunny that had contracted rabies, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

    Hiccup’s eyes gleamed excitedly. “Perfect.”

     There was another soft knock on the door. It was a little funny, the captors knocking on the door of the captives, but all of the Romans had learned, after one of their fellow soldiers was painfully maimed, that if Hiccup was busy, it was best not to disturb him. 

    “Come in,” shouted Hiccup. 

     Slowly the door creaked open and two very nervous looking guards creeped in. They were practically shaking in their sandals and helmets. If the gladiators were like this it would be too easy. 

    “It is uh time for the uuh doing of the tournament.” said one one the guards in very broken norse, even more broken than the guards that had brought them into this place. 

     “Wonderful!” Hiccup was practically grinning maliciously ear to ear, like a little maniac. He twirled his sword, the stormblade, in his hand. It shone brilliantly as it caught the light. “I look forward to spilling roman blood.” He answered in perfect latin. Even though vikings technically were not supposed to speak latin, Hiccup found it most effective to make threats and bloodchilling remarks in the person;’s native language, so they could really sink in. 

    “You-you know you really don’t having to be doing this?” trembled one of the guards. “We do the letting go. You just say and we do the letting go.”

     Hiccup thwacked the man hard in the knee with his sword, causing him to bend just low enough for Hiccup to grab his shirt and pull it so his face was nearly touching the boy. “If you ruin this for me I WILL kill you,” he growled before letting go. 

       As they walked down the stairs Camicazi tripped and scraped her knee. It stung but she didn’t cry. She knew better than to cry now. 

     Fishlegs laughed, but Hiccup didn’t find it funny at all.  Camicazi was part of the group now and she had just embarrassed him in front of the Romans.They might be the enemy, but they were still a respectable enemy.

    He pulled her back up by her waistcoat. “Be more careful, or Roman blood won’t be the only blood running in the arena.”

     Camicaizi nodded quickly. She couldn’t quite tell if Hiccup was bluffing or not, but she wasn’t about to find out. 

     The arena was flooded, something Hiccup had heard vague mention of, and the three children were placed on a small boat that rocked on the waves. Hiccup felt completely in his element, Swordfighting at sea was one of his natural skills, even if the Hooligan tribe did stop teaching the class for some dumb reason like children getting injured or dying ”

     “I don’t see any people,” commented Fishlegs. There was a crowd watching sure, from the safety of the seats above, but no other people were  in the arena. 

     “Wait!” Camicazi squeaked terrified as something ominous in the water caught her eye. She stepped back in from the edge of the boat. 

     “What? What is it?” Hiccup glanced over the side to where Camicazi had pointed, and there was a dark gray fin, and another one, only these weren’t your regular archipelago sharks oh no. Hiccup coil make out the very faint glint of scales. These were sharkworms. 

     “So THAT’S why they flooded the arena,” hiccup mussed, deeply impressed. And here he thought that he would be fighting humans. This would be different, more of a challenge. 

     “I’m sorry, are those shark worms?!” Yelled Fishlegs. He did not share Hiccup’s enthusiasm for a challenge. 

     “Aren’t they cool?” grinned Hiccup, as he wanted the monster's circle the boat. Hiccup had always been wildly fascinated by dragons, particularly the more bloodthirsty ones. 

     “Ok, ok,” said Fishlegs, trying not to let on how panicked he felt. “Is ANYONE bleeding.” 

     Camicazi timidly raised her hand. “I scraped my knee on the way here.” She didn’t know much about Sharkworms, but she knew enough to know that they were very bad news. 

      The shark worms were starting to circle the boat. There were quite a few more of them than Hiccup expected, and even he with his massive hubris was starting to have doubts. Then he realized something. This wasn’t supposed to be a battle, it was supposed to be an execution . The Romans never entended to even give them a fair fight, they were just going to watch them get torn to bloody shreds! It was evil! It was diabolical! It was admittedly, what Hiccup would have probably done.

     “I say we throw her overboard,” suggested Fishlegs, to Hiccup, not even caring that Camicazi, who was standing not one foot away, heard  “They'll eat her and not us,” he pointed out. 

     “WHAT!” squeaked Camicazi.Insinctivly backing up into the mast of the ship.  

     Hiccup shook his head, for once being the reasonable one. “No, we aren’t throwing anyone overboard yet . Sharkworms can smell blood but they also aren’t blind. They can see more than one target. As soon as they are done with her they’de come back up for us. We need manpower.” Hiccup squinted down at the water, counting the fins, which was difficult to do, seeing as they were all moving rapidly. “There are 3 of use and ... .15 shark worms. Ok, I think we may have a little bit of a situation.” What Hiccup meant was that they had a MASSIVE PROBLEM. Hiccup could easily take down a sharkworm, maybe even two or three, four if Thor was on his side that day, but five….while not impossible, the odds did not look too good. 

     “A Situation!?” panicked Camicazi, gripping onto the mast, as if that would save her.  “What do you mean a SITUATION!” 

     The Romans were yelling and gearing at the children, even the less blood thistly ones. 

     Hiccup could hear several Roman shout, “Kill them!” “Chew their bones” “Bite their head off!” and other pleasant little phrases. Hiccup recognised the loudest most bloodthirsty cheerers; most of them had either personally been victimized by Hiccup, or had a friend who was.

     Hiccup raised his sword high in the air, ready to defend himself. He might not make it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. He would make sure his last moments sent him straight to valhalla. However, before any blood could be spilt, dragon or human, something very strange happened. 

     There was a cracking noise and suddenly, the wiring that had been keeping the arena closed, and the geering Romens safely away from the action, cracked open. 

     "What in the curly white whiskers of Odin is happening?” asked Fishlegs, taking a step closer to Hiccup. Though he would never admit it, if there was any true danger present, Fishlegs felt safer with his friend (though in most situations Hiccup was more dangerous than the opposition).

       Alvin, or the thin prefect had started to levitate, up of of his seat next to the fat consul. 

     “What in Thor’s name is going on?” Fishlegs stared wide eyed at the spectacle. 

     “I don’t know.” Hiccup narrowed his eyes, watching the display with suspicion. 

     “This must stop at once.” Boombed Alvin, doing his best to imitate what he thought a god might sound like. 

     “I have been hospitable to you all, but you have been trespassing on my land for too long and have overstayed your welcome. Go back to where you belong and tell your emperor never again to venture this far north again!”

The fat console trembled, as Alvin glared down at him. He didn’t really want to believe that the man that he had bossed around for weeks was a god, but the evidence was clear. There was no denying his eyes. Alvin was flying, and a mere human could not do THAT.  “Yes sir right, we will go, we will go, please take this shield as a humble apology, a gift from Rome.” The fat consul trembled as he bowed, holding out his greatest shield. Alvin swooped down and graciously accepted it.” 

     “You didn’t tell me that guys a god!” squeaked Camicazi, trying to hide her small body behind the mast. 

     Hiccup couldn’t help scoffing, “He’s not a god.” Then he pointed up, “Look, look closely at his shirt.” 

    Camicazi squinted, shielding her eyes from the light of the sun to get a better look. “I don’t know what…what am I supposed to be seeing?”

     Hiccup smacked her, though not particularly hard. “Oh, use your brain you stupid girl.” 

     “I-it changed color?” Camicazi whimpered in confusion as she rubbed the back of her head. 

     “Look closer,” Hiccup demanded.

     Camicazi looked closer and made a fascinating discovery, “I-it’s moving!”

     Hiccup nodded. “He’s using nanaodragons to levitate.

     “Hah!” That’s brilliant!” laughed Fishlegs grinning at the spectacular trick, it was giving him ideas for his next show.  Then his eyes met Hiccup and he saw Hiccup scowl at him. Fishlegs crossed his arms pretending to be aloof. “I mean, it’s not THAT cool.” 

     Hiccup the gate, it’s open” pointed Camicazi. Sure enough there was nothing keeping them locked in anymore (Not that the Romans had actually been trying to keep them in fort Sinester at all). They could sail away to peace and happiness, but Hiccup didn’t want that. 

 He spotted some ores on the deck of the ship and threw them at his companions. 

      “Steer left, towards the crowd,” he shouted. 

     “Hiccup, this is crazy!” complained Fishlegs, "We are in sharkworm infested water! We should be going home, not doing whatever stark-raving-mad pot you have this time.” 

     “Insubordination will not be tolerated, if you don’t do as I say I’ll feed you to the sharkworm myself!” Would Hiccup have actually done this? Probably not, but Fishlegs wasn’t going to take the risk of finding out the hard way. Neither was Camicazi. 

     Fishlesg groaned, “Fine! You really are madder than a mackerel, you know?” 

    Hiccup scowled, fixing his gaze on something high above them. “Spare the compliments till later.”

Chapter Text

  Now in the meantime, let’s jump back to  Alvin. He was just as eager to get away as Romans as the children, possibly more so. As Hiccup suspected, Alvin was not in fact a god, but merely using the help of the nanodragons that Zigarastica commanded, but when they flew away, and he was back on the ground surrounded by panicking, fleeing Romans, it left him vulnerable to the sharkworms, which were starting to crawl up onto the stands.

     He spotted Hiccup, coming towards him and without thinking grabbed the boy by the scruff of his shirt and lifted him onto his shoulders. He was expecting it to be harder. For all his bite, the boy was surprisingly light.

     “What are you doing? Unhand me you brainless coward!” 

     Alvin grasped both the other children by their arms. Fishlegs struggled but the girl just let herself be handled by him. 

     “Listen you hate me, I know that,” panted Alvin. “But if you follow me then I’ll make sure we all survive.” He was hoping that even Hiccup would have enough self-preservation to agree, and he was right. 

     After some careful consideration, Hiccup decided that there wasn’t much use in being a dead warrior, so he let Alvin lead them to the observation balloon. 

     Once everyone was safely accounted for Alvin politely asked the tired old dragon who was stationed in the balloon to fill it up, and he obliged. But as the balloon was filling up, a tiny dragon fell out. It was a vorpent. 

     “AGGHK!” screed Camicazi, nearly jumping out of the balloon in fright. 

     “Don’t worry it’s ok it’s ok!” reassured Alvin, while trying not to panic himself. He knew all about vorpents from his mother. They were hasty dragon’s and their poison had no cure. He made a gesture for the children not to get near the dragon and gently lifted it up with his hook, tossing it off, down into the ocean.  

     Once the tiny dragon was gone he let out a breath. He felt like laughing, a bit hysterically.  “that could have been a disaster.” 

     “Yes yes.” Hiccup slowly walked nearer to Alvin, 

     “What are you-” 

     Hiccup kicked Alvin in the shin to distract him and grabbed Toothless out of his waistcoat.

     “HEY GIVE HIM BACK!” Alvin tried to lunge at him but Hiccup dodged. 

     “I just want you to know that I'm not sorry at all for what I'm about to do.” And with that, he pushed Alvin over the edge of the balloon. 

     Alvin just barely managed to grab hold of the woven twins of the basket with his hook. Desperately he tried to pull himself up, heaving with all his strength. 

     Hiccup frowned, “Everybody, run counter clockwise.” If they could make the hook unscrew Alvin would fall down into sharkworm infested waters. 

     Camicazi, who was a smart girl caught onto his plan, “YOU WANT US TO COMMIT MURDER B-B-BU-” 

    “Hey!” snapped Hiccup, “You were perfectly ok with spilling Roman blood an hour ago. This is no different HE is no different. Besides, I’m in charge and you do as I say.”

     “Please,” Alvin hoped that he might get through to the girl at the very least, she seemed nice, but the girl shook her head, looking down at him with innocent watery eyes. 

     “I’m sorry,” she whispered, running in a counterclockwise direction, following Hiccup’s orders. 

     Oh dear ooh dear oh dear Alvin could feel his hook starting to unscrew, not to mention the weight of the roman shield was pulling him down. 

     “Wait hold on! Can’t we talk about this!” He pleaded as his hook creaked, feeling looser with every turn, but nobody answered his desperate cries, except for Toothless who had sneaked off of Hiccup while he was distracted. 

     “Oh Toothless,” whispered Alvin, with tears of joy in his eyes, as the little dragon licked his hook. He obviously couldn’t feel it, but he knew that Toothless meant well. 

     Suddenly, Alvin’s heart stopped. The hook had detached and he was in freefall. Toothless tries to save his master by pulling up on his sleeve but Alvin was almost 50 times Toothless’s weight and it was completely useless. In the end, he dived into his master's waist coat, not caring about the sharkworms for that moment, just needing to be with the man who had cared for him. 

     Alvin felt a little bit comforted by the little dragon’s warm body. I’m going to die , he thought. But at least I won't die alone. 

     A few minutes after Alvin plunged into the water, while Hiccup was busy celebrating his victory, he noticed something. The little fangefree dragon was gone. He had lost a lost thing AGAIN to Alvin and wait a minute. Wasn’t there something about a Roman shield in the stupid old prophecy? DAMN IT! 

     “I’ll get you back for this Alvin the treacherous! If it’s the last thing I do!” 

Of course Alvin didn’t hear him at all, as Hiccup shook his fist over the side of the balloon he way already deeply under water. 

Chapter Text

Now, unfortunately for the three Viking children, the vorpent had popped a very tiny hole in the balloon with its sharp tails. It was small enough the balloon could  remain adrift over the open ocean for quite some time before it started to seriously deflate. 

     The Balloon lurched downwards. “We’re miles away from any  land!” panicked Fishlegs, clinging onto the ropes. 

     Before Hiccup could tell Fishlegs to stop being a coward and help him find a solution, Camicazi spoke up. “Look over there!” she pointed to two small fleets of boats bobbing in the open ocean. 

     “What in the name Frigga’s shiny gold earrings is that?” Though it was small, Hiccup could see the Hooligan and Bog burglar banners flying way below. He was amazed. He really didn’t think that his father would have cared enough to come out here and reuse him. 

     Hiccup pulled on some ropes to get the balloon to land faster but now they had a different problem. At this rate of falling, they would pass the boats. And land in the ocean, with who knows what kind of terrible sea creatures underneath. 

     Hiccup tried desperately to think of a clever plan. The basket had too many holes to float, and Fishlegs couldn’t swim. Of course he was just small enough the the dragon in the basket might be able to carry him away, but not the others. He wasn’t going  to abandon his friends   lackeys. He wasn’t sentimental or anything, but a future king would need his loyal minions. 

     “Jump!” Hiccup shouted. 

     “What?” Fishlegs looked at him like he had lost his mind. 

     “We aren’t that high up,” Hiccup incised. “The worst you’d break is a bone if you jump now, unless you would rather drown?” 

And so the three vikings Jumped onto the boat. Camaizi actually managed to land in the loving embrace of her mother. Fishlegs and hiccup both just fell onto the hard deck. 

“Ow,” groaned Fishlegs as he climbed back up, helping Hiccup up too. He knew he should be grateful that nothing was broken, but that still was not fun. 

     “Son…” said Stoick, his voice a little strained, like he was pretending to be happy that his son was back. Hiccup saw straight through this. 

     “Why did you come to rescue me? You hate me.”

     “I don’t hate you son…” Stoick’s voice trailed off as he tried not to think about all the times his son had been a menace to the tribe and how much easier and quieter his life would have been without Hiccup. 

     This is what the fates give me for disobeying tradition, he thought. I should have put him out to sea when he was born a runt and I still had the chance. born a runt . Maybe the gods had given him a warning when he was born a Hiccup, a mistake, and this was the price he had to play for not heeding it. 

     “It did take a little persuasion,” a familiar, friendly voice spoke. It was Snotlout, looking the most relieved out of all the Hooligans to see Hiccup.  His cousin might have been a bully, but Snotlout didn’t want to see him hurt, or worse, dead. 

     After Hiccup had gone off with the Romans, they had sent a letter posing as the Bogburglars, stating that they had kidnapped him. At first Stoick was half tempted to just let them keep him. However, Snotlout pleaded on behalf of his cousin and eventually managed to convince Stoick to put together a small rescue party to get Hiccup back, but when they got to the Bogburglars there was no Hiccup at all, or Fishlegs. The rescue band themselves ended up being questioned about the recent disappearance of Camicazi.  Snotlout being a rather intelligent boy, unlike his uncle, figured out that something was awry. He remembered his previous encounter with the Romans, and told both chieftains that that is who probably kidnapped the heirs. 

     Once again, Stoick was tempted to just leave Hiccup, but unlike him, Bertha happened to actually be very fond of her daughter, and promised to give back the Shield that the Bogburglers stole if Stoick agreed to help. 

     Stoick tried to ease the tension by making some small talk with his son. “Old Wrinkly was very excited when he heard you were with the Roams. I don't know why though.”

     Hiccup felt his muscles tense up and his eyes close. His jaw clenched of its own accord, despite him trying to play it cool and not give any reaction. How could he have forgotten Old Wrinkly? He would be expecting Hiccup to come back home with the Roman Shield. How could he tell his grandfather that he had now lost three lost things to that string-bean of a man Alvin. 

     His mind played over what would happen when he set foot in that cursed little hut. He’d be bluer than the archipelagic waters by the time that encounter was over. Or maybe his grandfather would just kill him. No, that would be too merciful.  Whatever happened, Hiccup would NOT cry. He would never cry. 

     “Hey Hiccup, are you ok?” asked Snotlout gently, placing a large hand on Hiccup’s shoulder.

     Hiccup almost jumped. “I’m FINE!” he yelled, smacking the hand away. 

     Snotlout gave a sympathetic frown. “You know you don’t have to go back home to your grandfather. You could stay with me and Adelaide for a little. We’d love to have you. Father’s making goose for dinner.” 

     A tasty warm dinner, a loving family where nobody was yelling or hitting anyone. Maybe Hiccup was just tired, yeah he was probably just tired, but that sounded almost…. nice .

     He watched as the sun scattered over the rippling water. He couldn’t let himself give in. He couldn’t let himself be weak. 

     Hiccup glared at his cousin. "As I said before I am FINE.” He was more ready to accept a hard  beating than a helping hand from his loser cousin. His one consolation was that Alvin the “poor but honest farmer” was finally dead. He had to be…right?

Chapter Text

     Fishlegs was performing at one of his typical archapelich’ famous concerts. Despite the fact that Hiccup was nearly bored to death, he was still there helping his friend with the technical aspect.

     Fishlegs had been inspired by Alvin flying using the nano-dragons and decided that he was going to do the same thing, only after frying and failing to get the nano-dragons to cooperate, he decided that he was going to do it with wires, large wooden beams, and pulleys. Of course, Hiccup was the one who had to hoist him into the air-not that it was HARD. Even though Hiccup was a good 2 heads shorter than his friend, he was surprisingly strong.

     As he watched Fishlegs glide gracefully through the air, singing ballads so loudly he wouldn’t be able to talk properly for a week, part of Hiccup just wanted to let go of the pulley system and let him drop from 10 feet in the air. He wouldn’t do that….but he could….It would be far better than listening to another one of Fishlegs’s pointless love songs.

     Hiccup didn’t get all the hype for his friends' music. Every song was some variation of I love you baby or Oh no you broke my heart. Honestly, no battles, no glory, nothing INTERESTING at all. What? Did the people in the crowd think the song was about them? That Fishlegs would by some miracle spot them in the crowd and instantly fall in love? Pathetic.

     It was also frankly a little odd that some girls (and a few boys too), half of whom were older than Fishlegs by quite a few years, were thirsting over this barely 13 -13-year-old boy, no matter how pretty he was. It wasn’t Hiccup’s business, however.

     Then something happened that shook Hiccup awake. “My heart glows brighter than dragon fire, When you say you love me you-A-ACHOO!” Hiccup’s eyes snapped open; this was an interesting development. Fishlegs had a multitude of allergies, but he took several very painful shots for them every three months, so that they wouldn’t disturb his concerts. Excruciating as those shots were, they were EFFECTIVE at the very least. So this couldn’t have been his allergies acting up. Maybe it was just a bug or something that flew up his nose.

     Fishlegs kept sneezing throughout the entire concert, which shot Hiccup’s bug theory down. You would think that this would ruin the experience for the onlookers but somehow it just made it more special. See, Fishlegs had built himself the kind of fame that you can do practically no wrong in. Whatever he did automatically became cool. The tween girls would fake sneezing weeks to come, much to the chagrin of their parents. The helmet of one of the girls he accidentally sneaked on sold for 3 sheep and a jar of honey, a rather hefty price for a hunk of metal whose only claim to fame was being sneezed on by someone famous.

     Finally, the last repetitive love ballad was sung and the crown departed. Hiccup let go of the rope he was holding. Joyfully hearing the whistle of a five-foot-eight teenage boy plummeting through the air.

     “AGRHK!” Fishlegs fell from 7 feet in the air onto the wooden stage below. He was used to these kinds of practical jokes so he didn’t land too painfully. He did, however, land on his glasses, which had flown off of his head. “HEY!” he growled, getting up, and checking for his gold-rimmed glasses under his boots. Of course they were broken. “You little demon! Now I need a new pair!” Fishlegs spat.

     “Oops,” said Hiccup innocently, batting his eyelashes. “My hand slipped.”

     It took every punch of self-restraint in Fishlegs’s body not to punch Hiccup in the jaw for his cruel prank. “Listen here you piece of-ACHOO!” Fishlegs stumbled back a little. He was a lot more tired and dizzy than he realized. Now that the bright, golden, glowworm spotlights had disappeared and the adrenaline from having hundreds of admirers at his stage squealing his name was gone, he was starting significantly worse. To make matters worse, his nose was starting to drip and he had to whip it on his expensive, designer shirt. The one with gold trimming. He didn’t even have to pay for it, Hiccup scared the merchant transporting the gold thread to the mainland, that he just gave it to them to make them go away.

     “What’s wrong?” smirked Hiccup crossing his arms, as his friend sulked miserably. "Can't think of a comeback?”

     “I’m worried about more important things,” Fishlegs huffed. “I think I might be coming down with something rather nasty.” Now that Hiccup’s attention was brought to it his friend's handsome face did look quite a bit worse for wear.

     “Oh please,” Hiccup sneered. “You aren’t scared of a cold, are you? You’re a VIKING for Thor’s sake. Flues are for softies; Colds are for babies!”

     Fishlegs contemplated sneezing in Hiccup’s face, so that he could experience the joy of being sick too, but no, he was too mature to do that. Probably.

     “Well, unlike YOU, I actually need my voice to sound good. If I have a cold that could mean my throat starts getting horse and-”

     “And you’re oh so loving fans won’t hear you perform bla bla bla I know.” Hiccup finished, rolling his eyes.

     Fishlegs turned away. “I am going to old Wrinkly’s for a new pair of glasses. Since you wrecked the old ones,” he said in bitter animosity, glaring at the blurry figure before him that was most likely Hiccup. Old Wrinkly supplied Fishlegs with everything He could possibly need, for a considerable fee of course. Hiccup was usually able to either talk his grandfather down or steal some gold from some poor foreign schmuck to help him pay for it. It was the main reason Fishlegs hung out with him.

     “I’ll come with you,” said Hiccup. He played chess with his grandfather on Fridays. Hiccup was a surprisingly gifted chess player. He didn’t like his grandfather, but he did love a challenge. Besides, all his grandfather’s anger at him for losing the lost things was spent, and he had the bruises on his back to prove it.

Chapter Text

     “Another pair?” grunted Old Wrinkly as Fishlegs held up his broken glasses. “I’m charging you, double boy; it hasn’t been one month you disrespectful little wart. These are pieces of high craftsmanship, not toys to be thrown about. Children these days have no respect.” 

     Hiccup tossed Fishlegs the various goods he had pilfered earlier that week: gold bracelets, and emerald earrings. Hiccup had no need for jewels or shiny things other than as a practical bartering chip. Fishlegs handed them to old Wrinkly. 

      Old wrinkly quickly twirled around the trinkets in his withered hand to make sure that they were not fake. One satisfied, the old man gave Fishlegs a long look of disdain before placing the treasures into a large box with the others. He sat down on the table  and popped out the broken pains of Fishlegs’s, old glasses, and placed in new ones with care and precision. 

    “I haven’t been feeling well?” Fishlegs said in a quiet mumble, his gaze fixed on the floor, not that he could see anything else without his glasses. 

     “Oh?” snapped the thin, crooked old man. “And why should I care about that?” 

     “Can’t you tell me what it is at least ?” huffed Fishlegs crossly. Then a sly idea came into his mind. “Or maybe you just don't have what it takes to diagnose me.”

     “What?!” Old wrinkly was appalled. He looked up from his work at Fishlegs.

     The boy smirked, leaning in in an almost casual manner, “Let’s be honest, your  soothsaying has always been subpar, and everyone knows your medicine for the common cold does more harm than good.”  

     “HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY SOOTHSAYING SKILLS YOU IMPUTENT LITTLE BRAT!” It took a few minutes for the old man to calm himself, the icy anger fading from his practically colorless gray-blue  eyes. He spoke again with bitter coldness, spitting every word. “You want a diagnosis that bad? Well then, so be it.” He roughly placed a hand on Fishlegs forehead taking his temperature, then threw some more dried-up sticks onto his soothsaying fire. The fire happily lapped up the wood, glowing brighter for a few minutes. 

     “Well what do you see?” asked Fishlegs hopefully.

     “You have vorpentitis.” Old Wrinkly answered without a hint of sympathy for Fishlegs. 

     For a moment all was perfectly still in the hut. The chilly wind blew through the cracks in the door frame, howling the silent anguish felt. Then the silence broke.

      “WHAT IN THE NAME OF ODIN’S BEARD DO YOU MEAN I HAVE VORPENTITUS?” yelled Fishlegs. The disease was largely known as completely incurable. This was completely unfair! He was too handsome, rich, and talented to die now. 

     “Calm down Fishlegs,” said Hiccup, rolling his eyes. He turned to his grandfather. “How could you possibly have made such a bold diagnosis by just checking the temperature and looking into a fire pit?” he questioned. 

     “The fire never lies,” retorted Old Wrinkly, his voice stern and harder than rock, leaving no room for questions. Old Wrinkly narrowed his eyes as he glared like a hawk at Hiccup. “Unless, you are suggesting that they were wrong about you being the future king.”

     Old Wrinkly had struck a nerve. “No.” Hiccup relented. He should have known better than to question. 

     “I am going to die?!?!?” wailed Fishlegs. 

     “No you’re not,” said Hiccup. His words held no sympathy but a sort of certainty that Fishlegs found very reassuring. “You are the only boy on Berk who can come close to matching my combat skills. If you died I'd have to make one of the pansies my second in command like Tuffnut jr or Speedyfist or, Oldin forbid, Snotlout.” Hiccup shuddered at the thought of making that peace-loving romantic fool his second-in-command. He’d soon take a sledgehammer to the head. 

     “There’s a cure; there has to be, so what is it?” Hiccup prompted his grandfather impatiently. 

      “You’re right,” answered Old Wrinkly with a hint of annoyance in his voice. This boy was far too proud for his own good. Maybe he was feeling generous. More likely, he was just too tired to bother playing riddle games with the boy. He decided to give Hiccup a straight answer for once in his life. “It is the vegetable that no one dares name.”! 

     “You mean the potato?” asked Hiccup, completely befuddled. SMACK

  “YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO NAME IT, YOU IDIOT BOY!”

     “Yes grandfather,” muttered Hiccup, cursing under his breath from the pain and humiliation. His instincts told him to reach up and hold his stinging cheek, but he didn’t want to seem weak so he kept his arms planted to his side.

Chapter Text

 Fishlegs snickered. He knew that he was supposed to feel bad for his friend (deep down in a softer part of himself he tried to ignore, he really did feel  guilty for not doing anything), but after Hiccup’s prank earlier that day, from which he still had a few bruises, he saw it as a cruel form of karma. “Just tell me where to find the potato,” grumbled Hiccup. 

     “Sit up straight boy,”  Old Wrinkly grunted, “Your slouching is unbecoming of a future king.” Begrudgingly, Hiccup straightened his back. 

     Old Wrinkly took a long huff from his pipe filling the hut with a foul smell. “I suppose I should tell you the tale of the Nutjobs and America.”

     “Hold on AMERICA?” Hiccup interrupted. “There’s no such place as AMERICA.” For once in his life Hiccup didn’t sound angry as he yelled, just genuinely bewildered. 

     “Of course there is you stupid boy! Where do you think the arrow from the land that does not exist is from? Valhalla ?” Old Wrinkly shot back. 

     Hiccup paused. This did make some sense and did clear up a great deal of confusion. “No, grandfather.”

      “Good,” Old wrinkly continued. “And stop interrupting or else I won’t tell you the story. Now once many years ago, there lived Norbert the Nutjob’s father, Bigjob. Unlike most vikings he believed the earth was round as an orange-”

     “That’s crazy!” interjected Hiccup forgetting about his promise to the old man. “The earth is clearly flat and if you sail too far you’ll fall off the end, EVERYONE knows that!”

     “What did I say about interrupting, boy?” snapped Old Wrinkly. “And you don’t know nearly as much about the world as you think. You are only 11 years old, only a young boy. Listen to your elders, and better.”

     Hiccup seethed with frustration at the old man’s words. How could he not have dropped that the living world Hiccup was in so different than he thought. 

     “Why haven’t you bothered to mention it before?” asked Hiccup.

    “You never asked,” Old Wrinkly said, blowing out a ring of smoke and dismissing the question with a wave of his hand. 

     Hiccup’s frustration reached a boiling point “YES I DID I ASKED MANY TIMES YOU JUST NEVER ANSWERED ME!” Fishlegs coughed loudly, though it was a clearly fake cough,  it brought Hiccup back to the urgent situation he was in. His second in command had the most deadly illness in the archipelago. “I'm … sorry ,” Hiccup spat out that word with considerable difficulty. He would have to pick on Snotlout after this to get the feeling of that word out of his tongue.  “Carry on. I swear on my sword arm that I won't interrupt again.” 

     “AS I WAS SAYING,” continued the old man, “Bigjob and his tribe sailed all the way to America, where they met a friendly tribe of natives that traded things like iron for the native’s well-crafted arrows. However, on the journey back, a great and terrible sea dragon called a doomfang started following them. Only the gods know why, but it followed the band of vikings as they sailed through the icy waters. Until, right when they were on the cusp of home, it attacked. Bigjob fired almost all of his arrows at it, but the beast would not stay down. The tribe managed to escape, but the doomfang is still in the waters, waiting, waiting….EXCEPT for this time of year. As the water has frozen over and the doomfang is trapped. 

     “So…I should go to the Hysterics and steal the pot- vegetable that no one dares name? ” asked Hiccup, nodding along to the story that to him sounded like bullshit. However, this bullshit was his only hope. 

     Old wrinkly nodded, solemnly. “I could help you, boy. You will need a sled and a dragon to pull it, as well as a map of the Hysteric's great hall I can provide. I can provide you with all these things, and a great dragon and mighty monster of a winter dragon to aid you…”

     “Really?” Asked Hiccup excitedly, a small spark forming in his dull, gray-blue eyes. No matter how much he tried to hide it he was still extraordinarily fascinated by dragons, the way they fought, the wildness, the ruthlessness. He just tended to pretend not to be so as not to be seen as a nerd. ‘Wait-” Hiccup crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?” His grandfather was not a kind man. He wouldn't be helping Hiccup save the life of his comrade out of the goodness of his heart. There was undoubtedly some ulterior motive. 

     “There is one tiny thing,” purred the old man. “Norbert is in possession of 3 of the lost things. The key, the arrow, and the ticking thing. “FIND THEM AND BRING THEM BACK OR I’LL FEED YOU TO THE SABERTOOTH DRIVER DRAGON MYSELF!”

Chapter Text

     “Where are you going son?” asked Stoick half heartedly as Hiccup packed his things, without so much as turning his head to his father.

     “I am going to Snotlout’s,” Hiccup lied. He had a feeling his father wouldn't like him going to the Hysterics. Not out of any concern for his son’s safety, but because the  Hysterics were a more vengeful tribe. It wasn't unlikely that if Hiccup did something to anger them they would take it out on the inter tribe. That is, if the ice didn’t melt, releasing the doomfang and keeping them trapped and harmless for another year. 

     “That’s nice.” said Stoick, eating his bland porridge,  not really watching his son at all as he stuffed a bag with weapons, food and tools. “Bertha and the Bogburglars  will be arriving in a few hours for a friendly ice sticks game with her daughter,” he mentioned off-handedly.  

       “I’ll pass,” Hiccup answered. Hiccup typically loved sports games, and would have never given up a chance at winning any sort of compassion. If Stoick cared even the slightest bit about his son he would have been questioning why he was going to see the cousin he hated and called pathetic and a pansy on a regular basis, instead of showing everyone how magnificent he was at smash sticks on ice sticks. 

 “Wait-” Hiccup paused in the middle of throwing a spare dagger in his pack-you really can never have too many weapons. “Did you say Camicazi is coming?” 

     Stock raised a hairy brow. “Yes? Why?” Was Hiccup developing a crush? Maybe that sweet little girl would mellow Hiccup out a little, at least that was Stocik’s vastly misplaced hope. 

      So the little burglar was here , though Hiccup. “That could be useful,” He mumbled to himself. 

       “What did you say son?” asked Stoick, half heartedly. 

     “Nothing.” Hiccup rolled his eyes. He left the house to go looking for the little blond Bogburglar who was going to be part of this expedition whether she wanted to or not.

Chapter Text

Camicazi was praying to Thor that this would be a peaceful day. “We really don’t have to come here,” she told her mother, big-boobied Bertha as they gilded across the frozen water in a massive wooden sled featuring the Bogburglar crest, followed by the rest of the bog burglar tribe in slightly smaller sleds. 

     “Nonsense,” laughed Bertha, giving her daughter a hearty pat on the back. “The Hooligans are our friends now. You can play with that Hiccup friend of yours. He seems nic–for a boy. He’s a tough warrior at least. You could learn from him, you know?” Bertha loved her daughter very much but there was no denying that she was rather soft and meek for a Bogburglar heir. She would have to toughen up before she became the chieftess. 

Camicazi wanted to protest that hiccup was NOT a nice boy and that a seadragon Giaganticus maximus would scare her less, but she knew it was useless. She stared hopelessly at the ice. Maybe if she was lucky she would be able to sneak away and hide under a bench in the great hall before Hiccup found her. 

     Luck however, was not on Camicazi’s friend that day. Once they got off of the sleds Stoick was there to greet him, and of course, his small angry son was standing next to him. Hiccup flashed Camicazi a wicked grin when he saw her and she quickly hid behind her mother. Oh brother , she knew what that grin meant. He was going to try to rope her into some crazy adventure. NO. She was putting her food down. She would tell him no she would–oh who was she kidding? She was too much of a coward to do any of those things. 

     Stoick and Bertha shook their massive hands. Hiccup offered his own hand to Camicazi. She didn't want to take it, but it came off as pretty rude if she didn't. She timidly grasped Hiccup's hand trying not to flinch as he dug his nails painfully into her skin, taking pleasure in seeing her wince. 

     “Camicazi it's so nice to see you again,” Hiccup said with fake sweetness. 

      “It’s …uh…nice to see you too,” Camicazi said politely. 

       “Come join me and Fishlegs for tea at Old Wrinkly,” offered Hiccup still gripping her hand painfully. 

“Oh uh…no…no thanks.” Camicazi tried to pry him off, but he just tightened his viper-like grip. 

     “That’s not a request,” hissed Hiccup through gritted teeth. 

    “Oh-” Before Camicazi could protest, Hiccup had pulled her away. 

     The hut which Hiccup had dragged the poor little girl to made her feel strangely uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the collection of various animal skulls hung on the wall. Or maybe it was the array of deadly plants drying on the oaken shelf. Maybe it was the old man himself, with his long ragged black robe and solemn, stern face. 

     When she first saw Hiccup’s grandfather, her initial thoughts were: Oh, so that’s why Hiccup is like this. 

       She bounced her leg nervously, her hands neatly folded in her lap, avoiding eye contact with the tall, dreadful man, who seemed to tower over her. “So umm i-if i understand correctly,” she stammered. “Fishlegs is s-sick and you need my help to s-steal the cure from another tribe?” 

     “Exactly,” Hiccup nodded, sipping on his piping hot tea. It burned his taste buds, causing a mildly painful sensation in his mouth,  just the way he liked it.  

     “I-I mean o-ok what tribe are we stealing from?” 

     “Nobody really,” Hiccup checked his dirty nails in a casual manner. “Just the Hysterics.”

       “THE HYSTARIC!” yelled Camicazi. “BUT THEY ARE CRAZY! AND VICIOUS!” 

     “Oh grow up,” said Hiccup, rolling his eyes as he set his teacup down calmly. 

      “I’m not going to the hysterics no-siree no way!” The little girl crossed her arms trying to look confident in her position. 

       “Pleeeeaaaase!” wailed Fishlegs, just about ready to beg. He was red and sweaty thanks to his fever though he still tried to keep his well-groomed appearance as best as he could.  “I am going to die!!!”  

      Camicazi was now faced with a rather interesting moral dilemma. Even if she didn’t particularly like Fishlegs , she couldn’t just let him die could she? She hung her head, disappointed in herself for agreeing so quickly. “Ok…”

     Hiccup grinned. “Wonderful now, we wait till dark before going. Feel free to wander around Berk or whatever in the meantime, just don’t bother me.” Even Hiccup knew it was a bad idea to try to take on the entire Hystaric tribe at once. Especially when there were actual stakes involved. Hiccup got up. His tea now cooled to a temperature most people would find pleasant, and walked to the door, before turning his head back to Camicazi. “Oh and one more thing. You CANNOT tell ANYBODY about where you are going and why. Got that?” He snarled. He didn’t need any of the loud and stupid grownups getting in the way.  

     Camicai nodded vigorously, trying hard not to piss Hiccup off. 

     And that is how Camicazi came to be hugging her knees in the snow. Desperately trying to keep tears of fear from falling down her cheek. Why did she ever agree to this? 

     “Hey there,” said a friendly voice sitting down next to her. It was an older boy, with choppy strawberry blond hair and just the beginning of a fluffy mustache starting to grow on his upper lip. Despite his size, he had a soft air about him, like a stuffed bear. 

     Camicazi sniffed.  “Hi…” she whimpered without much enthusiasm. 

     The boy smiled at her in a reassuring manner, his blue eyes glinting with kindness. They looked so much like Hiccup’s yet somehow softer, warmer.  “My name is Snotlout. I take it your Camicazi?” Camicazi nodded. 

      “You’re Hiccup’s cousin," she mumbled softly. 

    “That I am,” Snotlout nodded. “And you’re his friend, right?” 

     “Hah!” laughed Camicazi bitterly. “I’d hardly call us friends. He’s…he’s not very nice…I don’t like him.”

     Snotlout nodded; his soft eyes looked sadly at her, then far out into the frozen sea. “I understand. I myself don't know how I feel about Hiccup, on one hand, he bullies me daily, on the other hand, he’s so young and small, almost like a little brother.” 

     “I don’t think he would like you saying that,” mused Camicazi with a small fragment of a smile.

      Snotlout chuckled. “Probably not, he’d probably toss me into the ocean for calling him small.” There was a pause of silence before Snotlout spoke again. “So want to tell me why you're so gloomy? It might make you feel better.”

     Camicazi sniffed, her own baby-blue eyes feeling wet.  “I can’t. I promised Hiccup I wouldn't, and I don't wanna c-cross him.” 

     Snotlout nudged her gently, “Hey, there’s no need for tears. And besides, Hiccup isn’t here is he?” Camicazi shook her head. “I promise to keep whatever you tell me here a secret.” 

Camicazi thought about it for a moment. She didn’t really want to tell Snotlout but if she told no one she felt she would break into a million pieces. 

     “We are going to steal some very valuable things from the Hysterics,” she lamented miserably.

     “THE HYSTERICS!” shouted Snotlout. “But that’s practically suicidal!”

     “It won't be that bad, I’m sure,” said Camicazi, trying to sooth herself more than Snotlout. “Hiccup could hold his own against an army. And if we don’t Fishlegs will die.”

     Snotlout signed, nodding. “That is true, and I suppose I DID promise not to tell anyone, but how about a deal?”

     “A deal?” asked Camicazi, her ears perking up. “What kind of deal?” 

    “I won’t tell anyone where you are going YET, but if you aren’t back by the first rays of sunrise, I will go get help.” 

     Camicazi thought about the offer. Hiccup had told her not to tell anyone, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something would go terribly wrong. It would be nice to have someone to rely on if worse came to worse. “I accept your deal,” she said finally, hoping she wouldn’t come to regret it. 

     “Great,” Snotlout smiled. He held his arms out for a hug, but Camicazi shrunk away with a small squeak surprisingly similar to that of a frightened mouse. 

     “No-no thanks I’m not really a hugger,” stammered Camicazi. The truth was she wanted a hug right now more than anything, but she didn’t want to seem like a baby. She was 10 now and had to start acting like it. 

      Snotlout shrugged, “That’s alright. I’m going to go check on Adelaide. You take care now,” and with a final wave, he was gone.

Chapter Text

 Hiccup stood proudly next to the sabertooth driver dragon his grandfather had acquired (how his grandfather did this he had no ideas but he had learned from a very young age that it was better not to ask questions.) The great white panther-like beast was missing an eye, which only served to make him more intimidating. 

     “This is so cool,” whispered Hiccup happily, examining every detail of the creature, before he remembered Camicazi was right next to him. He tried to pretend to not be excited. “I mean this will be a sufficient driver dragon.”

     Camicazi couldn’t tell why Hiccup was so defensive whenever he showed any kind of interest in anything. Thinking dragons were cool wasn’t a bad thing. It’s not like she would ever tease him about it, and by the looks of it, neither would the nice boys of Berk, so why was he pretending not to care? 

      “Right,” Hiccup rubbed his hands together, turning to face the driver dragon. ““My name is Hiccup, and YOU are going to help us get the lost thing  from Norbert or else you're going to end up as a fancy leather bedcover you hear?” Hiccup barked at the dragon in dragonese. 

     The dragon looked up at Hiccup. Who was this scrawny little boy to tell him what to do? Perhaps the Old man with the poisons had been intimidating enough to be convincing, but this was a pipsqueak, merely a puppy with a loud bark. One-eye did not move one inch. 

     “Come on you stupid animal!” yelled Hiccup, grabbing the whip and cracking it on his back. The dragon growled, a low and terrible tremor, but did not move. He had his pride and was not going to move because some snotty human child told it to, even if it did somehow speak the language of the greenbloods. 

     “Uh, can I try something?” asked Camicazi, as Hiccup raised up the whip again. 

     “Rgh fine,” Hiccup decided to let the little Bogburgler try her luck. Whipping took a surprising amount of strength and he would need to save his energy for the mission. 

     Quietly, Camicazi creeped out of the slay. “Excuse me mr. Driver dragon?” she asked politely. Hiccup wanted to laugh. What was that sentimental fool trying to do?

     The saber tooth driver dragon growled at her, showing its razor-sharp fangs, teeth that could slash through her in less time than it would take to regret ever coming near him at all. Camicazi gulped before continuing. “W-we are trying to get the p-potato from the Hysterics. You seem not to like humans very much, b-but vorpentitus affects dragons too. I promise if you help us, I’ll p-plant it. No human O-OR dragon will suffer from vorpentitus again. P-please…”

     The dragon thought this over. He would gladly let a human die of vorpintitus, but his own kind? That was an entirely different question. Slowly,  he rose to his feet, giving his tail a flick. 

     “While I’ll be damned,” muttered Hiccup as Camicazi climbed back into the sled, and it started to lurch forward on the ice. 

     “See it sometimes pays to be a little bit  nicer,” said Camicazi, really hoping Hiccup would take her words to heart. Needless to say, the boy didn’t.

      “Don’t think it's worked just yet. We haven’t gotten back yet. He might be planning to leave us at the Hysteric’s mercy. It’s what I would have done if I was a dragon.”

       Camicazi’s lips curved down in a disapproving smile, “Not everyone is like you.”

       Hiccup grinned, unable to resist the urge to tease. “You’re right, not everyone, only smart, and  brave people that will be kings or heroes. The rest of the schmucks are like you . Soft people destined to become nameless faces in history. At least you’re somewhat useful.” 

     Camicai was silent the entire slay ride to Hysteria. It was dead quiet except for the thin, shrill sound of the sled skirting on thick winter ice. Camicazi’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the dark, looming figure of the doomfange swimming benefit the sled. 

     “Oh don’t be a scaredy-cat,” scoffed Hiccup. “It can’t hurt us while it’s trapped under several feet of solid ice. 

     The two vikings and dragons entered the village. It was dimly lit, all except for one huge hall which was alive with music and lights and chatter. 

     “Bing,” murmured Hiccup. “That’s the great hall, and THAT is where we will find our king's things.”

     “And the cure for Fishlges’s illness,” added Camicazi. 

     Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, that too.” 

     “One eye, fly us onto the roof,” demanded Hiccup, climbing onto the back of the massive dragon as if he was climbing a horse. Dragon flying really should only be attempted by those who have had years of practice, but Hiccup didn’t care. He was a natural at everything, and Camicazi was too afraid to say no to Hiccup, so she sat behind him nervously. 

     One eye growled, complying only when reminding himself the good he was doing his fellow dragon kind. As the two small children sat on his back, he lifted his massive feat of the ground, flapping his powerful, leathery, white wings. 

     The roof creaked under all the added weight and Camicazi feared for a moment that they would fall through it. Luckily, the ruff held and the Hysterics seemed to take little notice of it of the sudden, loud creaking. Maybe they were all just too drunk? 

     “Wait here,” Hiccup ordered One eye and Camicazi. Camicazi nodded, and One eye let out a small puff of gray smoke to show he understood. “Camicazi, cut a hole for me to go through,” said Hiccup as he tied a thick rope tightly around his ankle. 

     Camicazi took out some of her burglary supplies and started to carefully carve a hole through the roof big enough for Hiccup to pass through.  She prayed to Odin that the Hysterics wouldn’t notice anything was wrong all the way through the mission. The other end of the rope was held in one eye's jaw. He was instructed to pull Hiccup out if there was trouble, Although Camicazi wasn’t sure if he actually do that. 

     “Please be careful,” whispered Camicazi and Hiccup started to lower himself into the Hysteric's brightly lit and loud Hall. Hiccup rolled his eyes. Of course he was being careful. Even he had the basic common knowledge not to take on an ENTIRE tribe of vikings at once. That’s why the hole was in the side of the roof, so he could land in a corner and start sneaking around. 

     However something happened that would throw out all the plans of a discrete, and stealthy mission out the window. For a moment, one eye’s jaw relaxed, letting Hiccup fall down for a solid second head first before catching the rope again. Hiccup strung a rather lengthy list of rude curses together. “Make sure you keep that dog with wings in check,” he hissed up angrily. 

     One eye could handle being called a lot of degrading things but he drew the line at a dog with wings. Maybe his dragon brethren, who were sick with vorpetitus, could forgive him for what he was about to do.  He bit the rope hard, his irone like jaws snapping it clear in two. Hiccup plunged down. 

Chapter Text

       Hiccup fell, luckily Hiccup was a rather talented gymnast–with all the fancy sword fighting movies he did–and he was able to turn the fall into a sort of backflip  and land perfectly on his feet without so much as spraining an ankle. Unfortunately, despite the quality of his landing, when his feet hit the ground at freefall speed it produced a very loud THUD. 

      The chatter went dead silent, and everyone in the great hall, who before were drinking, eating and fighting, turned to face the tiny little intruder standing in the corner, with a menacing kind of bewilderment in their eyes. 

      “ASSASSIN!” Screamed Norbert, pointing a large, accusing finger at Hiccup. He was a massive viking, almost three times Hiccup’s size, with two very curly blond mustaches, that he was very proud of, tied in black ribbons. 

     “No, I’m not an assassin,” said Hiccup, dusting himself off casually. “Though that career path isn't off the table yet . No, I’m here for the potato- and the arrow and ticking things, so cough ‘em up and no one gets hurt.” 

     Norbert stared at Hiccup in Aww for a second then he burst out laughing, his large viking stomach jiggling as if it too was amused by Hiccup’s audacity. “YOU hurt ME. Be serious boy. Have you taken a look at yourself? I have AXES that are bigger than you!”

       Hiccup felt his face becoming even more bright than his heroic red hair. “My size has nothing to do with my skill as a warrior! I am extremely dangerous, I'll have you know!” 

       “HAHAHAHAHA!” guffawed the entire Hysteric tribe, as if Hiccup had just told an incredibly funny joke. 

      “If you think I’m just a small weak little kid then why doesn’t one of you come over and fight me!” shouted Hiccup drawing his sword. Some of the men oo- ed  at the impressive majesty of the stormblade. 

     Norbert snapped his fingers at his men. “Put him in a cage so he doesn’t cause any trouble. Then we can get back to feasting.” Some of the men were less sure now. Hiccup was a pipsqueak, but he was welding Grimbeard’s legendary sword, the one the bards sang about. However, no one wanted to get on Norberts bad side so they attacked.  

       Now Hiccup was an amazing fighter–he slashed, and stabbed and parried—but he still was ONE boy. He was able to hold his own against flour of the Hysterics largest strongest warriors, but a fifth one came in from the back when he was distracted and smacked him over the head with a very large, very heavy iron pan. 

     Hiccup woke up in a teal cage, with his arms and his feet bound in ropes. This was a predicament, but he had lived through worse. He wondered where Camicazi was. She was the one who was supposed to come to the rescue when things went wrong but she was nowhere to be seen. 

     “If that Bogburgler doesn’t get her ass down here in the next half hour, I’ll kill her myself when I get free,” he grumbled. 

      “So the little runt is awake?” laughed Norbert, stroking the sword he had stolen from Hiccup; it was too beautiful to go to waste. Hiccup made up his mind that the next time he and Norbert met, he would kill him without hesitation, plunge the stormblade he was currently holding straight through his heart. “I must say you put up a rather impressive fight.” This placated Hiccup a little, who was always fond of people telling him about his own glory. “However, you are still an intruder, this means that THE AXE OF DOOM WILL DECIDE YOUR FATE!” Norber drew out a massive axe, one side glinting gold, the other a rusted black iron. 

     “The bloody hell is an axe of doom?” asked Hiccup, thoroughly confused. 

     “I shall throw the axe into the air and if it lands gold side up you get to live–BUT IF IT LANDS BLACK SIDE UP YOU BETTER BE READY TO SHAKE HANDS WITH ODIN IN VALHALLA BOY!

     “Wow-a coin flip how original,” Hiccup scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

      “SILENCE!” shouted Norbert, a mad glint in his eye as he lifted up the massive axe and threw it into the air. It spun around a few times in the air, like a dancer before bludging downwards. Hiccup could clearly see the side it was going to land on.

“IT'S THE BLACK! “IT'S THE BLACK PREPARE TO DIE!”

      Hiccup smirked as he watched all the vikings staring at the falling axe, and he calmly reached out, and caught the axe of doom. There were gasps as over 100 Viking men stared at the boy in disbelief. 

Hiccup twirled the axe round in his hand, and plunged the gold side into the floor. 

     “YOU CHEATED!” screamed Norbert accusingly as the Vikings began to mutter. 

     “OF COURSE I CHEATED!” Hiccup retorted. “I’m a Viking . That’s what we do!” Norbert found that he had no argument to this; Vikings were known for being liars and cheats, and the axe of doom never lies. 

       “Fine, you can live, but you’re staying in that cage.” 

       “We will see about that,” muttered Hiccup. 

     Hiccup sat and waited, but no one came. He was starting to get antsy, fidgeting with his hands to calm a nervousness he would never admit to. It couldn’t be healthy for a future warrior to stay in a cage for so long. What was taking that Bogburglar forever? Most of the Hysterics were asleep, or so drunk they might as well be asleep. 

     As he sat in the cage he had time to ponder what this legendary potato could be hidden and what it would look like. Was it purple? Gold? Maybe it had stripes. Hiccup fancied it was spicy, like a chilly pepper. He had once tricked Fishlegs into eating a chili pepper: good times.

     “Where would I put the lost things and a magic vegetable if I was a madman with an axe?” Hiccup started looking around for anything that might be particularly interesting or out of place. His eyes landed  on something in the corner. When he registered what it was he couldn’t help letting out a shout.  “What in Odin’s name is that?!” 

     His yelp woke up Norbert. “Oh THAT, that is my father Bigjob. Frozen completely solid.” 

     Hiccup blinked. He wasn’t the type of boy to mind the gory or unpleasant, but this was just plain weird . “Why?” he managed to choke out. “Why keep him? Why not give him a proper Viking funeral?”  

     “I’ll give my father a proper funeral when the hero defeats the Doomfang in the prophecy my father told me on his deathbed.” 

Suddenly Hiccup’s interest was heightened. He rather liked prophesies, especially those that favored HIM. “A prophecy,” repeated Hiccup, rubbing his hands together. “Do tell me more.” 

     Norbert was more than delighted to start immediately recounting the long tale of the journey to America. 

     “Hurry up!” shouted Hiccup after some time. He was getting bored with the needless exposition. “Either get to the good stuff or shut up!” 

     “DON’T YOU TELL ME TO SHUT UP BOY!” Bellowed Norbert. If Hiccup could have bitten Norbert, he would have, but fortunately for the madder than a mackerel Viking chief, the boy was still in a cage. 

     “As I was saying,” continued Norbert. “My pappy-” 

     Hiccup snorted, “You call your father pappy ?” 

     “SHUT UP,” yelled Norbert, though his cheeks were flushing under his curly blond beard. 

    Hiccup laughed, singing, “loser,” under his breath. 

     “My father used almost all his American arrows against the Doomfang. When he was down to his last arrow, he stuck it into the vegetable that no one dares name and told me that the man that pulls the arrow out of the vegetable is the chosen one.” 

     “And no one has been able to take the arrow out of the potato?” asked Hiccup incredulously. It didn’t seem like it should be that hard. No matter how magical the potato was, it was still at the day a vegetable. “I don’t believe it.”

     “DON'T NAME IT!”

      “Whatever.” This superstitious nonsense was starting to get on Hiccup’s nerves. 

     “I have had just about enough of your sass boy. “Here, see the vegetable for yourself.” 

     Out of the basket that Norbert’s frozen father was holding Norbert drew out a small round, brown looking root. Well that's disappointing, Hiccup thought. It was rather plain for a magic vegetable. 

     After his initial disappointment, Hiccup noticed that the arrow and the potato were frozen. Of course, no one had been able to pull them apart, after thawing them it would be easy, but before, practically impossible. He didn’t tell Norbert this of course. He wanted to pe the chosen one, the hero that pulled the arrow from the potato. He and he alone. 

     Now he knew where that potato and arrow were all he needed was the ticking thing and he was ready to go. Now how could he find that ticking thing?

     If he was an idiot, Hiccup would store the ticking thing in the same location as the potato, but surely Norbert was smarter than that. Surly . 

Chapter Text

     Hiccup woke up to someone gently shaking his cage, “Woah-woah HEY!” he protested but was met with a hasty shush. 

     “Don’t be so loud, you’ll wake the Hysterics,” whispered Camicazi as she fiddled with the lock. 

“Took you long enough,” said Hiccup, rolling his eyes, though he was secretly glad to see her. 

     Camicazi looked down guiltily, “I’m sorry. I had to wait till everyone fell asleep.”

After a few minutes of delicate work she opened the cage. Hiccup crawled out without so much as a thank you, stretching his arms and legs. 

     “Where do you think the potato is?” asked Camicazi. Hiccup gestured over to the basket that Bigjob was holding. Camicazi’s eyes widened as she stared in horror at the dead, frozen viking. The little girl started turning first white, then a very pale sea-green. It looked like she was going to pass out. 

      Hiccup slapped her on the back, though not very hard, just enough for her to snap out of it. “Oh get a grip, girl.” he scolded. “You're a Viking for Thor's sake.” 

     Hiccup chewed on the inside of his cheek as he observed that the floor surrounding Bigjob seemed to be alive, crawling and seething. Upon closer inspection Hiccup could tell that they were miniscule dragons. “Squealers,” Hiccup whispered. 

     “A-are they dangerous,” asked Camicazi nervously stepping behind Hiccup. She wasn’t sure what kind of dragons the lunatic chief would have put here. She feared that they might be some of those extremely dangerous venomous dragons that could kill you in less than a minute. 

     “Oh, don’t be such a coward; they're harmless to humans,” said Hiccup, rather annoyed at her antics. “But they are very LOUD if disturbed. A great alarm system really, and that’s why I need YOU to steal the potato.”

     “ME?!” Gulped Camicazi. 

     “Yes you,” hissed Hiccup, “You're the expert burglar here. Why do you think I brought you along?”

     “B-b-but-” stammered Camicazi nervously. She really didn’t want to go anywhere near the frozen corpse, or the weird little dragons. 

     Hiccup shoved her forward. “Just do it!” 

     The little Bogburglar walked around the squealers trying to determine the best way to proceed. She took a rope from her belt and tossed one end through the hole in the ceiling where a certain Saber-Tooth Driver dragon caught it in his teeth, holding it tight. 

     “One eye!” gasped Hiccup, as the blue slitted eyes flashed in the moonlight.  “But I  thought he abandoned us?”

     “He abandoned you ,” corrected Camicazi. “I was just barely able to convince him to stay. You know, you really should be nicer to people or else one day you might lose everyone…”

     “Don’t be ridiculous, that will never happen,”  said Hiccup, waving his hand. “And IF it did, it's  not like I would miss any of you dorks, anyway,” he added hastily.

     Camicazi shrugged. “If you say so.” she began to shimmy up the rope like a little monkey. 

Carefully, she lifted up the potato out of the basket and tossed it over to Hiccup, who easily caught it. Amazing coordination came naturally to him as did most other viking skills. 

     “And the ticking thing!” Hiccup loudly whispered, less than helpfully. 

     After doing a few quick calculations Camicazi came to a chilling realization. “It-it will tip over!” she whispered back, frightened. 

     This was a predicament. Hiccup swallowed. He glanced at the many snoring Vikings, their swords and axes on the floor, within a quick arm’s reach. Carefully, Hiccup crept over to Norbert. He cut a large metal key off of his belt. He didn't know if it was the key that opened all locks but he sincerely hoped it was, as he placed it in his pocket, or else he would be in huge trouble with Old Wrinkly. 

     Hiccup might have been brash, but he was also intelligent and capable of calculation. “Try to think, don’t you have ANYTHING that could act as a counterweight?” Camicazi shook her head. Hiccup was half tempted to sneer that she should to chop her hand off and use that but this was not a time for jokes. 

     Hiccup looked around for whatever he could use, he grabbed a huge, polished silver tray. It was almost his height by length. “Alright, since One Eye can't carry both of us at once, when I say go you grab the ticking things and jump over to me as fast as you can. If we are quick enough we should be able to escape.”

     Camicazi wanted to scream “THIS IS A TERRIBLE PLAN” but she bit back her criticism as Hiccup relayed the plan to One Eye in dragonese. He was still unhappy about helping Hiccup but with an annoyed growl, he too agreed to the plan. 

      With her hands trembling, Camicazi reached into the basket and pulled out the last lost thing. Then, slowly, she watched in frozen Horror as Norbert’s beloved pappy, stiff as a statue, began to slowly tip over. 

     Right before he hit the squealers Camicazi came back to her senses and jumped down from the rope, landing next to Hiccup. The human ice statue came crashing down onto the squealers There was a shrill and slightly painful high pitched noise. Camicazi covered her ears instinctively.  

     Many of the sleeping vikings awoke, abruptly. Nortbert snorted awake, and when he saw the squealers nibbling on his father he screamed. “AHGGGH!” 

     Before he could draw his axe to fight Hiccup, Hiccup took a half-empty bottle of champagne, lit it on fire with a candle . Then he threw it as a makeshift bomb. It landed on a very flammable polar bear rug, and the entire hall erupted in flames.

     “YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON!” screamed Camicazi in horror as she watched the red flames licking up the wood walls of the great hall.  

“I had a feeling you might have been against the idea,” said Hiccup, fainting an innocence not even his own parents would believe, the returning back to his usual self. “Besides, now less of them will be able to get to us, so you’re welcome.” He grabbed her hand. “ Now RUN!”

Chapter Text

Hiccup careened down the hill covered in several feet of white, feathery snow at breakneck speed on the surprisingly slippery silver tray. Camicazi was sitting right behind him holding on for dear life. “WAHOO!” yelled Hiccup grinning, all the king's things safely in his pockets. He felt amazing, the refreshing winter air cutting past them was invigorating. Camicazi was having a rather different experience as she held onto Hiccup's waist in a desperate attempt not to fall over. She was trying hard not to puke in the snow.

Camicazi thought she heard something so she nervously looked behind them. “Uh, Hiccup I think we have a problem!” she squeeked. They were being chased by at least 20 Hysteric warriors. Norbert himself was leading them, some soot on his face and his beautiful curly mustaches burnt off, but otherwise fine. The fire, which could still be seen shining at the top of the hill, seemed to have done little but anger them. They drew their weapons and Camicazi gave a small squawk as she felt an arrow zip past her ear. “Hiccup!” She pleaded.

Hiccup gritted his teeth. “It’s fine. We will be fine. we’re almost to the sled, just try not to get shot would you?”

At the base of the hill, the makeshift sled hit a large rock dusted in snow and was sent tumbling. Hiccup landed painfully on his side, the snow doing little to soften the fall, but unlike Camicazi he refused to vocalize his pain on principle.

He pulled up Camicazi, who was lying face down in the snow groaning, by the sleeve, and tried to tug her towards the sled where One Eye was already waiting, but Camicazi wouldn’t budge.

“Come on! Do you WANT to get shot by Hysterics? WE have to get out of here now!” Trembling Camicazi pointed to the frozen sea: The first rays of sunrise were beginning to reflect something that Hiccup hadn’t seen in the night; it was beginning to crack and crack A LOT.

The sled was designed to be fast on ice but was not designed to stay afloat in rocky archipelago water. If the ice broke and they fell into the water. Their only chance of survival would be to swim, and even though Hiccup was a strong swimmer, many vikings greater than he had lost their lives trying to brave frozen waters without protection. The odds did not look good.

“It’s certain death by hysterics or possible death by icy waters. Pick your poison, but I'm not staying!” hiccup yelled. Camicazi decided to go with Hiccup: a gamble with death is still better than its certanty. She ran with Hiccup and jumped in the sled. She felt some of the ice beginning to crack more from the weight.

“WE'RE GOING TO DIE!” she wailed, shutting her eyes tight.

“We will be fine! Run One-Eye, RUN!” One Eye didn’t need to be told twice, he skidded across the ice at speeds that could rival the fastest race horse, unfortunately that warm spring air had melted the ice and it was no longer as thick as Hiccup had hoped. It held up near the shore, got dinner and thinner the hearer to open waters they slid. There to Hiccup’s horror, ahead of them, the ice had broken and thin sheets the size of pillows were bumping together. There was too much momentum, the heavy sled would not stop, and there was no time to get off.

Hiccup grabbed Camicazie’s hand and took a deep breath as they were both plunged in water so cold, it could freeze a grown man to death in less time than it took to have afternoon tea.

So, this was the end of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, or at least it would have been if not for one very helpful sailor.

Just before Hiccup could lose consciousness, submitting his body to the cold, he felt a pair of long and slightly scrawny arms fish him out of the water. Hiccup’s vision was still blurred, but he felt a warm, wooly blanket being draped over him as he shivered, dripping wet.

“What’s going on?” he thought, unable to make coherent sounds. Once his mind had adjusted to the fact that he was not going to die in hypothermic waters, and his eyes started to focus again turning the vague blobs of color into the figure of a man, a tall man with kind eyes and a twirly mustache that was almost comical. Hiccup immediately tensed, his face furrowed into a glare.

“Alvin the treacherous,” he growled.

Alvin shook his head. “Just Alvin’s fine. Like I said before, I don't do that whole treacherous thing.”

“Whatever.” Hiccup crossed his arms looking Alvin up and down. “How are you not dead yet? You fell into a pit of sharkworms,” asked Hiccup curiously.

Alvin shrugged. “I survived. I did lose an eye and leg as you can see, but other than that I’m fine.”

Hiccup could see the damage that his stunt on the balloon had done to the poor pathetic man. He still seemed so irritatingly calm about it. His eyes still shone with the joyful light of someone who feels his life is good. How was that even possible? He had been torn apart by violent dragons because of Hiccup's doing he should feel bad.

Hiccup wasn't sorry. HE WAS NOT SORRY. The pit in his stomach was disgusted at this pathetically, soft, poisonously positive excuse for a viking. NOTHING more. He most certainly was not relieved that Avin, other than the visible injuries, seemed to be completely fine. He wanted him to be hurt, he wanted revenge, right?

“How did you find us?” growled Hiccup forcing all pesky confusing emotions down to the bottom where they would rot away and could safely be ignored.

“That would be my doing.” Hiccup groaned as he heard a familiar annoying voice. His soft cousin Snotlout was standing behind Alvin. He gave a small, and slightly apologetic wave to Hiccup.

“Of course it's you,” muttered Hiccup, sighing. “Why am I not surprised? But how on earth did you even find us? Nobody was supposed to know where we were going.”

Snotlout chuckled, his eyes drifting to Camicazi, who was shivering, covered in a wool blanket much like Hiccup and curled up in a ball so tightly that not even her head was visible. “Yeah, a little birdy told me you could say,” chuckled Snotlout.

Hiccup’s face turned as red as the now rising sun in the sky. He was absolutely furious. “YOU TOLD SNOTLOUT! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE. HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY ME!” Hiccup screamed at the bundle of fabric that held Camicazi. A soft whimper escaped from the wooly pile as Camicazi tried to make herself even smaller. Snotlout gently pulled Hiccup away by the arm. “Woah, woah, Hiccup. There’s no need for that. Besides, if we hadn’t gotten here in time you’d probably be dead. Really, you should be thanking her.”

“That's….true….” Even Hiccup had to relent that this was a situation he may have needed a teeny-tiny miniscule crumb of help to get out of.

“What have you got there?” asked Alvin, gently brushing his long, thin fingers against the potato.

“DON'T TOUCH THAT!” yelled Hiccup, jerking the potato away.

Alvin pulled his hand away. “It’s ok, there’s no need to get feisty. If it means that much to you, I won’t touch it.”

“Ummm, guys. We have a problem,” Snotlout pointed to the bay. The ice had broken up just enough for a large ship to push through. A hysteric ship was sailing speedily towards them. The angry, blackened faces of Nerbert and several other men, glaring ferociously, were starting to become visible.

“Oh dear they look mad,” mumbled Alvin worriedly. ‘What did you do to them?”

Hiccup looked offended. He placed a hand to his heart. “Why did you assume that I did something to them? It could have been Camicazi.”

Alvin stared at him blankly, “Because it's always you.”

“Yep,” agreed Snotlout, nodding.

“Always,” echoed Camicazi from her hiding place, still curled up and shivering under the blankets.

Hiccup crossed his arms. “Fine, I may have set fire to their entire great hall.”

“YOU WHAT!” shouted Alvin. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!”

Hiccup shrugged, “We had to get away, plus they put me in a cage. A CAGE!. I’m not a bloody animal!”

Snotlout was tempted to make a joke about how for a human, Hiccup sure bites like an animal, but thought it would be wiser not to piss Hiccup off right now.

Alvin held his hands together in a silent plea to Odin, “Ok, I will admit what they did was bad. But you do NOT burn down an ENTIRE BUILDING because of it!”

“Oh Thor’s wooly socks, they’re gaining on us!” wailed Camicazi, peering out of her blankets at the approaching Hysterics. This distracted Hiccup and Alvin long enough that they didn’t start arguing.

“Right,” Hiccup muttered, thrusting wooden oars that were lying down discarded on the deck into the arms of Snotlout and Alvin. “Row you pathetic worms, row! Or none of us will live to see the next summer solstice!”

Unfortunately, the rickety little boat of the hopeful puffin (Alvin had named it himself, after one of his favorite birds. It was actually a rather impressive ship considering he built it without a teacher or any training, but as it stood on its own it was a pathetic wobbly mess of a viking sail ship) did not get very far. Something lurched under the ocean, sending the boat rocking, almost causing Alvin to trip over. The massive, black head of the Doomfang rose out of the water.

The hysterics, who’s lean ships were starting to surround the wobbly boat of the hopeful puffin, gave a surprised and terrified cry. The Doomfange was a massive beast of a dragon, armed with deadly fire of legend, which froze its poor victims to death.

“Aahhhk! It’s the Doomfange!” yelled Norbert, his mad, twitching eyes nearly popping out of his head. Right before them was the sea monster that had kept the whole tribe locked within their little island for several decades.

Amids dozens of terrified, shaking adults Hiccup stood taller than ever–more of a viking warrior than the more experienced men. He drew his sword, ready to fight that scaly black sea dragon to the death if it meant it, but Alvin held up his hand, his brow furrowed.

“It's trying to communicate,” he whispered to Hiccup.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS!” shouted Hiccup waving the storm blade in the air in fury. “THAT BEAST IS GOING TO KILL US IF WE DON'T KILL IT FIRST!”

“It's trying to say something,” insisted Alvin, staring at the dragon with a look of empathy that almost made Hiccup gag.

Hiccup was however an intelligent boy, and Domfanges did not normally follow vikings like this so perhaps Alvin was right? Preposterous, Alvin was a fool. Hiccup knew dragonese, in theory he should have been able to hear the dragon wailing something too, but his ears were too stuffed up with adrenaline and adventure. He didn't hear, because he didn't want to listen.

The dragon opened its great mouth and Alvin thought for a moment it would shoot its blue fire at them. He pulled Hiccup and Snotlout closer, only to be pushed back instantly by the very indignant small red haired boy.

But the Doomfange didn't blast them all into Valhalla in a fury of plasmic ice. It opened it’s jaw, it’s, and uncurled its preposterously long tongue, wrapping it around the little object in Hiccup’s right hand.

“LET GO!” Hiccup shouted, He immediately dropped his sword. All his focus went to tugging backward with all his might, trying to secure the potato. Though Hiccup was a strong boy for his age, the Doomfange was a monster of legends. “NOOO!” screamed Hiccup as it dislodged the arrow from his callus hands. There was something in that scream, it wasn’t a scream of anger it was a scream of fear. It was desperate, vulnerable. Alvin had absolutely no clue why the strange potato with an arrow in it meant so much to Hiccup, but he knew it was extremely important to the boy.

Alvin grabbed the potato, trying not to shutter as he felt wet dragon slobber on his hands. He tried to pull it from the dragon. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt the hot tongue of the Doomfange on his skin. At this moment Toothless chose to wake up.

“T-Toothless wants F-fish!” squawked the little dragon. This startled Alvin and he nearly fell backwards. He grabbed onto the closest part of the potato he could: the arrow. But, the potato had thawed, and the arrow cleanly slipped out of the potato. The Domfange pulled back its tongue, and all Alvin was left holding was the arrow. Alvin had fulfilled the prophecy NOT Hiccup.

Hiccup felt like he wanted to scream, but he quickly pressed down those feelings and they simmered into a deeper rage. How DARE this pathetic man steal his glory again. He would make him pay! Hiccup was so focused on his own self pity that he didn't notice the Doomfange swallowed the potato hole.

“MY POTATO!” screamed Norbert in horror. Hiccup could only watch, for once he had no smearing remark.

Then an amazing thing happened. The Doomfang bowed its head. Its hoarse voice croaked out, a word which was almost a thank you. Before it gracefully dove back into the water and swam away, leaving the Hystarics at last.

“Well, I'll be damned,” whispered Norbert. “You've freed us of the Doomfange!” He yelled over to Alvin who was very confused.

“I have?” asked Alvin who tended to be more out of the loop on account of being a farmer, living mostly among the more peaceful tribes. He didn't even know there was a Doomfange. Alvin had fulfilled the prophecy, and Hiccup had just watched as the ONE thing capable of saving his friend from a certain and painful death slipped out of his hands. A cold snow started to drift down gently, almost mournfully. Hiccup sniffed, then he did something he hadn’t since he was six years old. Hiccup began to cry.

Chapter Text

      Alvin placed his hand onto Hiccup’s shoulder, Hiccup jerked away, falling onto his knees sobbing. 

     “Kid what’s wrong?” asked Alvin softly as he and Snotlout knelt next to him 

     “My friend is going to die and there is nothing I can do about it!” screamed Hiccup, angry at Odin at the universe. “The ONLY thing capable of saving him was just eaten by that horrible dragon!”

     “The potato?” asked Alvin. He wasn’t sure how a tiny unlucky brown root vegetable could save anyone but Hiccup seemed pretty confident.  Hiccup nodded bleakly. Alvin gave a small chuckle. “Well if THAT’S what this is about, you might just be in luck.” 

     Hiccup looked up at him with a hint of curiosity. “W-what do you mean?” 

     “I did mention I’m a potato farmer didn't I?” he rummaged in his pocket and placed something small and brown into Hiccup’s hand. It was a lot smaller and even less special-looking than the Hysteric’s vegetable but it was without doubt a potato. 

     Hiccup gasped as he ran his fingers over the course, dirty, brown skin. He felt so happy that he almost hugged Alvin, then realized what he was doing and punched him in the face instead. 

     “You’re welcome,” groaned Alvin, rubbing his aching jaw.  

     “How did you even become a  potato farmer?” asked Hiccup. “I thought there was only one in the entire archipelago.”

     Alvin shrugged. “My mother might have given me a small snippet when I was very young, and I planted it. I don't know where she got it from.”

     Norbert, who’s ship was close enough to be listening in to the conversation from afar let out an livid cry. “YOU’RE EXCELLINOR’S CHILD!” 

    “Excuse me?” asked Alvin, turning around to meet Norbert's fuming face, his mad eye twitching. 

     “I VOWED REVENGE ON THE WOMAN WHO DARED STEAL A SPUD OFF OF MY POTATO!” Norbert screamed. 

     Alvin wasn’t particularly intimidated. “Well if you want revenge you will have to find her first and I….I haven't seen my mother in years…” his shoulders drooped. He had lost his mother, his wife, his son. He couldn't bring Termagant back, no matter how much he longed for her warm embrace, her brown eyes with those lovely flecks of gold in them. She was gone forever. He could only hope that the same fate hadn't befallen his mother and son. 

     “Well then I’ll get revenge on YOU!” shouted the mad Viking chief. “YOU SON OF A POTATO  SNATCHER !” Snotlout covered Camicazi’s ears as Norbert screamed increasingly creative profanities. 

     “Oh goody,” signed Alvin, another person wants revenge on me. “This is just splendid .”

     “However,” Norbert spat through gritted teeth, “You did rid us of the Doomfange, so I can’t in good standing kill your RIGHT NOW.”

    “I’m very glad, I prefer being alive,” he shouted over to the Hysteric’s boat with a dry chuckle. 

    “This isn't over son of a potato burglar, This isn't over! The next time we meet I won't show you mercy,” threatened Norbert menacingly clutching his massive axe of doom. 

     “Don’t worry, I don't plan on meeting again,” said Alvin, politely waving farewell. “EVER AGAIN.” 

       “N-never e-e-ever,” stammered Toothless. “We won't go back e-e-ever.”

     As the hopeful puffin sailed across the barely thawed waters back to the quaint little island of Berk, Camicazi's head popped out of the blanket. The wool had made her tangled hair even frizzier so it looked almost as though it was glowing. “A-are they gone y-yet?”

     Alvin patted her fluffed up hair gently. “Yes they are gone. You're safe, I promise.”

     Hiccup scoffed, “You're coddling her. She’ll never grow up to be a warrior like that .” 

     “Oh just relax for once in your life,” smiled Snotlout, placing a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Can't you see that we won. It's all going to be ok after all. Fishlegs isn’t dying after all.” 

     Hiccup dried his tears. “If you tell anyone that I was crying I will bash you, understand?”

     “I don't know,” mused Snotlout slyly. “It would make pretty good blackmail the next time you try to pick on me…”

       Hiccup balled his hands into fists, and Snotlout held his hands up in surrender. “Gee, I was only teasing Hiccup. I won't tell anyone, I promise.” 

     When the little group got back to Berk, Alvin stepped out onto the wet sand first. Then he helped Snotlout and Camicazi off of the boat. “Let's go see that sick friend.”  

     When they reached the crooked hunt, Old Wrinkly was waiting. He was just as intimidating as Alvin had remembered and somehow his beard looked even whiter now, like a wrathful and quaking ghost. 

      “You're late," he growled at Hiccup. “And where is the dragon I so kindly lent you?” One eye had deserted after the sled had fallen into the water. He was now flying north, to the deserted glaciers of his homeland. He would come back one day, but not for a very long time. For now, he was free. 

       Hiccup didn’t answer these questions, instead trying to work around them by distraction. “I have the potato.” Hiccup resented the  small brown root to Old Wrinkly as if he was carrying a jewel. 

     “And WHY is it so small ?” Questioned the old man, tapping his dirty, knife-sharp nails against the pathetic little potato’s leathery skin. 

     Hiccup’s face turned red. “T-that doesn't matter this is enough, isn't it?”

     “I suppose so,” answered Old Wrinkly, clicking his tongue in distaste, as if Hiccup had yet again failed to measure up. “And I shouldn’t have expected much better from you, runt .” Old Wrinkly brought the small potato closer  to his eyes and examined it carefully between his fingers, taking off his glasses and squinting at it. “Couldn’t even bring back a decent potato. How you’ll get yourself crowned king if you can't even manage THAT simple quest I do not  know. Speaking of which,” he handed hiccup back the potato. Now, Old Wrikly’s voice lowered, sounding almost menacing. “You did get the king’s things. Right ?” growled the old man. 

     “I-I have the ticking thing,”  Hiccup fished around in his pocket and drew out the noisy little contraption, hoping that it would appease his grandfather and it briefly did. He snatched it quickly, fiddling with the arrows to check if it was the real thing, or just a cheap copy. Once he was satisfied, he tucked it into a pocket of his long, ink colored Robe.  “And the Arrow?” he asked, expectantly. 

   “I-I-” Hiccup’s mind started to panic. He had forgotten all about the arrow, what with believing that his best friend was going to die and all. It had been a very stressful few hours. 

“Don’t lie to me, boy .” Spat Old Wrinkly. It was a promise–it was a threat. Hiccup wasn’t scared, oh no, but he wasn’t a fool either, and he knew if he lied now, he might just end up with a broken bone. 

     “I-I don’t have the arrow.” Hiccup hung his head in shame, the words coming out of his mouth tensely. 

     Old Wrinkly raised his hand in anger, Snotlout tensed, Camicazi looked away, but before anything happened, Alvin stepped between the two. 

     “Pardon me but does this happen to be the arrow which  you are referring to?” He drew out of his pocket an American arrow. It was the one he had pulled away from the potato. He had  tucked it away without much thought. 

     “Yes it is,”  answered the man, his voice was cold and steely, but his fingers twitched as if it took every fiber in his being not to snatch the potato from Alvin’s hands. 

     “Here kid, you can have this.” Alvin handed the arrow into a bewildered Hiccup's slightly sweaty open hands. 

     Hiccup looked up at him with a deeply perplexed look on his face. “You do realize what you're giving me?” 

     Alvin shrugged, “Not particularly, but if it will keep you safe I'd give up gold.”

     Hiccup stared in dumbfounded amazement at the unique foreign arrow in his hand. How kind stupid of the man, he had just given up one of the most valuable things in the archipelago to protect Hiccup from the wrath of his grandfather. He was such a soft, pathetic idiot…and yet…a soft, “Thank you,” escaped Hiccup’s lips before he could stop it quivering in the still air and dying thankfully before it could reach Alvin’s ears. 

     “What was that?” asked Alvin. 

    “I hate you!” barked Hiccup. Alvin laughed and patted Hiccups head making him growl in indignation. “You aren’t a bad kid; are you sure you're ok here? You know you can always stay with me if you need it.” 

    “I-” Hiccup had never actually been wanted before. Who was this man? Inviting him in like he was a kinsman and not a sworn enemy. He shook his head, glaring perhaps more fiercely than before. “I’m not some ickle little baby bird. I’m a VIKING!” he pointed to his chest profoundly. “I’m tough, unlike you. I don't need help .”

     “If you insist, kid,” shrugged Alvin. He gazed wearily at Old Wrinkly. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about Hiccup a little, but he wasn’t about to force him to leave his home, potentially adding even more pain. He just hoped that Hiccup was making the best decision for him right now. 

     “Ah, so I see you haven't died yet,” a smooth and sarcastic voice sang. Fishlegs had come out of the hut looking better than ever, well rested, well groomed with a small smirk. 

     “Fishlegs?!” Hiccup shouted, startled. “You…you don't look sick at all.”

     “YOU AREN'T DEAD!” yelled Camicazi running up to him and hugged him tightly, a stream of tears pouring down her face. Fishlegs hastily pushed her off of himself. Camicazi didn't feel too hurt, she was just happy that he was alive. 

     “Woah, woah, don’t touch me. You have to pay extra for that.” He then dusted himself off and ran a hand through his perfectly shaped dark chocolate curls. “And to answer your questions, yes I am alive –obviously. No, I am not sick, I don’t actually have vorpintitus.” 

     Camicaizi was muttering a thank you prayer of relief up into the sunny sky, however Hiccup took the news quite differently. Hiccup’s eye twitched. “What do you mean you don’t have vorpentituse?” Hiccup spoke slowly, and dangerously calmly, like a tightly wound string about to snap. 

    “I mean,” drawled Fishlegs, crossing his arms “I DON’T HAVE VORPINTITUS. It was just a cold after all.”

      Hiccup’s hands shook as anger overtook his mind. He had shed tears, he had been pathetic, weak, lost a part of his pride he would never get back because he thought he would lose Fishlegs forever, and he wasn’t even sick?! 

     He threw the small potato down onto the ground with such force that it splattered, grabbed Fishlegs by the color of his canary yellow silk shirt, and shoved him into the wall of the hut. “You mean to tell me we went all that way for NOTHING!” He spat, gripping onto Fishleg;’s shirt so hard his knuckles turned white. 

     “OW! Let go!” Fishlegs struggled to get free. Hiccup’s face was red with fury  as he raised up his fist. He was about to turn the stupid boy in front of him as blue as the fire of the doomfange, but before Hiccup could land a blow his expression faltered, the anger morphed into confusion. His grip on Fishlegs loosened, and he suddenly fell over. Thankfully, Snotlout saw what was happening and rushed over to catch him before he could fall over and split his skull open on the ground. 

     “What happened to him?” asked Camicazi, peering over at Hiccup, starting to panic. 

     “Right,” Fishlegs rubbed the back of his head where he had been shoved into the wall. “As I was going to say before Hiccup so kindly attacked me, I don’t have vorpintitues–he does.”

     “What?!” exclaimed Alvin checking the boy's temperature. His fact was practically steaming; he was burning up fast. Hiccup tried to   say something but all that came out was a gurgle. He couldn't move a single muscle in his body, not even his tongue. 

    “WHERE IS THE POTATO!” yelled Alvin, dropping to his knees and scanning desperately for the little thing. “Toothless have you seen the potato!?” The little dragon was sitting on the ground where Hiccup had dropped the potato, looking a little brighter in the face, blinking his long lashes. Alvin knew that embarrassed look. “Toothless….y-you didn’t EAT the potato, did you?” 

     “I-i-it looked t-tasty,” whined Toothless. “T-t-toothless is sorry,” the little dragons pouted.

     “NO NO NO!” Alvin looked around desperately, as Snotlout held Hiccup’s stiff, burning body. “There has to be a way to save him? I-I OWN A POTATO PATCH, I COULD G-GET A NEW ONE!” yelled Alvin frantically getting up. 

     “In less than an hour?” scoffed Old wrinkly, seemingly unconcerned for his own grandson’s inevitable death.  “Face it, that’s not just improbable, it's impossible . The runt is as good as dead.” The old man turned towards Fishlegs, looking him up and down skeptical, as if he was assessing a product at market. “How would you like to be the future king of the Wilderwest?” 

     Fishlegs’s ears perked up. He would be lying if he said the thought of being king, with a sparkling golden crown and more riches than he could swim in wasn't intriguing, but something brought him back down to earth from that bedazzled fantasy. A small, thin, desperate noise. 

       “Ooot mee,” Hiccup, like the doomfange, was desperately trying to say something. “Oot eee!’

     “What’s he saying?” asked Camicazi, who had gone to fetch some cold water, and was now placing a cool, wet cloth on hiccup’s head to prevent him from overheating further. 

     “He’s probably delirious,” answered Alvin mournfully. However, Fishlegs wasn’t so convinced. 

      “Oh for Thor's sake he’s clearly conscious! WHAT DO YOU WANT, DAMN IT!” 

     “OOOT ME!”

     An idea started to form in Fishlegs’s head. He grabbed the American arrow out of Hiccup’s pocket and stared at him. Hiccup was now dead silent, a pleading kind of look in his unblinking ghostly eyes. Fishlegs wasn’t sure why Hiccup wanted him to do what he was about to do, but he trusted that despite his flaws Hiccup was a smart boy. Fishlegs grasped the arrow tightly and jammed it into his friend’s thigh perhaps a little too aggressively. That place on Hiccup's leg would carry a scar for the rest of his life. 

      “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” screamed Alvin anger, horror, and disbelief colliding into one, just as Hiccup started to twitch. The juices of the potato, which the arrow had been stuck in for several decades, were starting to work their way through his bloodstream just before the vorpant venom could work its way to his heart muscles causing death.  

     Hiccup slowly sat up, rubbing his fiercely aching limbs. Fishlegs punched him. “THAT is for earlier, you didn't think I’d let you die before getting revenge did you?” sneered Fishlegs trying to hide the relief in his voice. 

     “Oh shut up,” scoffed Hiccup’s, though his voice didn't hold nearly as much animosity now. He lightly punched Fishlegs back in the shoulder. Alvin couldn't help but chuckle a little. At least it was alright in the end. 

     Then something unexpected happened; the light from the morning spring sun hit Fishlegs’s glasses in a way that made his deep brown eyes look like they were flecked with tiny bits of gold. Alvin had known those eyes before He had loved those eyes before. All those many long hours on the beach, singing love songs to her, his first and only love, staring at those eyes for hours with pure adoration. He gently grabbed Fishlegs by the arm and pulled him to the side, away from everyone else.”

    “What the–”

     “Terribly sorry,” whispered Alvin, an excited gleam in his expression as his heart beat in a double step.  “But you don’t happen to ... .well…you're not a hooligan–not born one like Hiccup–are you?”

     Fishlegs’s face turned as red as a lobster. He ripped his arm away in indignation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, of course I’m a Hooligan!” he didn’t particularly want people to know that he had been born a runt. It ruined his whole cool guy persona. 

     “I-I didn’t mean it like that,” backtracked Alvin, seeing the anger burning in the boy's eyes. “I just thought you looked a little familiar, that’s all.” 

     “Well maybe you need to get your eyes checked,” scoffed Fishlegs. “I am a Hooligan. I always have been, and I always will be. If anyone says otherwise they are liars .” 

     “Of course, so sorry to bother you.” Alvin turned away, picking up Toothless, and slowly walking back towards the Hopeful Puffin. Perhaps Fishlegs was right. Yes, he was definitely right. It was just a coincidence, a trick of the light. He looked back once, just to be sure. That warm honey-gold glint was gone, as if it had never even been there. One day Alivn would find his son– one day –but today was not that day. 

Chapter Text

Just wanted to take the time to celebrate that we are 1/4 of the way through swap au. Honestly, I didn't think I would get this far. It isn't quite my longest fic but pretty soon it will be . Thank you so much for enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. <3

Chapter Text

     “What exactly are we looking for this time? groaned Fishlegs as his dragon, Fireworm, a beautiful red monster who only obeyed him because he was famous and she liked the attention that came with being the dragon of the “greatest star in the archipelago”. 

     “I told you,” growled Hiccup. “We are looking for the ruby heart stone. We’ve spent months searching for it in Grimbeard's treasure cavern.  It isn’t there!” Hiccup was extremely frustrated by the many long and painful hours waisted searching for that stupid ruby. But of course, his great great-great-grandfather couldn’t make it easy for him, oh no, that was entirely out of the question.

      Hiccup knew that his mother had half of it, but his mother had left their family a long long time ago. She was always away questing when he was younger. The more Hiccup grew and became…well…himself  her visits became shorter and more far between. Now she just didn’t come back at all. Not that Hiccup cared in the slightest. Good riddens! It was just one less nagging parent telling him what to do. Old Wrinkly knew where the other half of that blasted necklace was but for SOME REASON he refused to tell Hiccup. 

     “I get that,” said Fishlegs, rolling his eyes. “But why are we searching the hills? Don't you think it would be buried on the beach or something, ooo or in Grimbeard’s coffin?” 

     Hiccup shook his head. “Too obvious, Grimbeard was a clever man. According to rumor, the old Wilderwest castle stood on this hill, before Grimbeard moved the capital to tomorrow.”

     “And how do we even know that’s true?” pressed Fishlegs. It was a particularly hot day and he would rather be lounging in bed at home thansweting outdoors,  helping Hiccup with another hair brained scheme. 

     “I’ve read histories, you know,” answered Hiccup, crossing his arms. 

     Fishlegs chortled, “A true viking doesn't read books. I certainly don’t.”

     “I know you don’t,” muttered Hiccup. “If you did, your poetry wouldn't be so terrible.”

     “HEY!” Before Fishlegs could argue with Hiccup for another hour Fireworm stiffened, her ears pressing back. “What’s wrong?” asked Fishlegs. “Can you smell the jewel?” Fireworm gave a low, quiet growl, and darted up into the air like a reverse shooting star. She was loyal, but only up to a point. Fioshlegs squinted at her blurred figure, already a speck in the sky. “What the F-” then it happened. 

     Hiccup and Fishlegs found themselves surrounded by a ring of roaring  flames. “What's going on!?” screamed Fishlegs, running around the circles trying to find a place where he might be able to escape, but there was no such place to be found, unless he was willing to risk third degree burns at the least.

     “Oh keep your helmet on!” shouted Hiccup, grabbing Fishlegs before he could run another lap around the ring. “I’m trying to think!” Now, as far as Hiccup knew–and he was fairly certain–these hills didn't spontaneously combust in perfect fire  rings, so either he did something to make Odin VERY angry, or it was a dragon’s doing. Hiccup decided to go with the latter because it was more practical. Still, this was an unusual hunting method for most wild dragons of Berk. 

       “HOW DO WE GET OUT OF HERE?!” Fishlegs shook Hiccup, causing his helmet to fall off

     “Shut up I’m thinking!” Hiccup pushed Fishlegs away, almost into the fire, and put his helmet back onto his head.

     “Oh great white whiskers of Odin, what was THAT!” At first Hiccup thought Fishlegs was just being dramatic, but then he saw it too. Some large black animal seemed to leap into the circle and then leap back out so fast that Hiccup couldn't tell what it was. Though he suspected it was some kind of dragon, since the fire didn’t seem to hurt it.

       “We have to get out of here NOW!” Hiccup ignored his friend because he was busy thinking of a way out when he realized something. “Uh oh.” 

    “UH OH?!?!?” panicked Fishlegs, flailing his arms. “What do you mean, UH OH?!?!” If it was something that made HICCUP worried, it must be really, REALLY bad.

    “It’s been a very unusually dry summer…” Hiccup said carefully. This caused Fishlegs to panic more than anything. Hiccup was being calm and reasonable! “I’m guessing in an hour the entire hillside is going to go up in flames.”

    Fishlegs knew what that meant. Without a riding dragon, even if they got out of the circle, practically speaking,  they were toast. He sat on the slightly too warm for comfort ground, his head in his hands, “No no no! I can’t die. I’m too young and beautiful.” Hiccup pulled him back up onto his feet by his shirt. 

     “Oh quite your pitiful teenage whining. We aren’t dead yet.” Hiccup tried hard to think of an escape. Even if Fireworm hadn’t deserted, she would still be too small to carry a human. “I really need to get a riding dragon,” Hiccup muttered to himself. Just then something slipped into the slamming circle. A black, panther-like dragon with long retractile claws. “An exterminator…” whispered Hiccup, his eyes wondering, “Woah.” Exterminators were very cool dragons, and very deadly. 

     Even Hiccup wasn’t sure if he could beat an exterminator in a fight, but he would be damned if he didn't try. He drew the stormblade, the fire making it seem like it was glowing in his hands. The creature hissed. Hiccup hissed back fiercer. The creature paused its strike, for just a moment in confusion giving Hiccup enough time to strike it in its weak spot. Despite all odds Hiccup was actually winning until two of the Exterminator’s brothers joined it. Not even Hiccup could fight off THREE exterminators at the same time.

    Hiccup knew he was going to die, but he was going to die bravely, fighting so ferociously they’d be singing his name in Valhalla when he got there. That was the plan, that is, until a mysterious figure leaped into the mix. It was a very large and muscular man.. He was wearing a fire suit, so Hiccup couldn't see his face.

      The man heroically drew his sword and fought back the exterminators which were about to pounce on Hiccup. Hiccup had never seen such skilled fighting. It was like watching a dance. He was amazed, and a little jealous. Hiccup had always been the best sword fighter on the quiet, peaceful island of berk. Now that a REAL hero had come into the picture, for once Hiccup was only second best. 

    The two brothers of the exterminator hissed and scampered away, leaving their kin to feel the bow of the mysterious man’s sword. Hiccup, however, had other plans. He leaped in front of the dragon before the blade could meet its head. 

     “DON’T KILL IT!” He shouted. 

    “What are you doing kid?!” The man asked, so startled he nearly dropped his sword in surprise. “That dragon is going to kill you!”

    “Oh please, everyone wants to kill me. If they were any good at it, I’d be fist-fighting Thor already,” commented Hiccup with an off-handed wave. “Besides, I’ve always wanted a riding dragon, and this one is just about big enough.”

    “ARE YOU DAFT BOY!” yelled the man. “YOU CAN’T TRAIN EXTERMINATORS, THEY ARE PURE EVIL!”

     “Well,l so am I!” shot back Hiccup. "And I know I can tame this creature.”

    “Hiccup is right. If anyone can do it, he probably can,” shrugged Fishlegs, who was hiding under the man’s riding dragon, so that stray sparks from the fire didn’t land in his hair. “He’s a dragon ner-” Hiccup shot him a glare. “Whisper. He’s a dragon whisperer.” 

   Hiccup decided he was going to try to speak to the monster. “My name is Hiccup. I’m in charge now,”  he said firmly. To that, the monster spat a bolt of fire into his face. Lucky Hiccup was half expecting that and dodged quickly. It hit the man behind him, but he was wearing a fireproof suit, so no damage was done.

    Hiccup clamped the dragon’s mouth shut. Despite the powerful jaws, it was relatively easy to hold them shut, like an alligator. Most people just didn't bother to get close enough to an exterminator to test the theory.

  “LISTEN TO ME!” snarled Hiccup. “I am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, son of the CHIEF of this island, AND the future KING of this land. I need a riding dragon, a fierce and powerful one such as yourself. You are either with me or against me, so what shall it be? Do you want to be bathed in gold and glory, with all the blood and feasting you could possibly want, or should I make myself a fire suit out of you?” Hiccup plunged his sword into the dragon’s wing, like a stake, pinning it to the ground. It wasn’t injured enough that it couldn't fly in a few weeks, but the brutality was enough to send a clear message.

   The dragon growled, and Hiccup kicked it hard in its slightly softer underbelly with his sharp iron-tipped boots, so that it bled. Though it didn't like it, the young dragon knew when it was beaten. “Alright…you win this time...boy.” It growled.

   “Boy?” Hiccup glared, quickly drawing a wickedly sharp knife and poising it directly above the creature's eye. “Address me PROPERLY or else, you filthy animal!” 

     “As you wish…master…” said the creature, as though the words pained him physically. 

    Hiccup drew the stormblade out of the creature's wing. It gave an involuntary whimper. “That’s better.”

Chapter Text

     “Gee, I hate to interrupt this tender moment,” scoffed Fishlegs briskly. “BUT WE ARE STILL STUCK ON A BURNING HILL AND THE FIRE CIRCLE IS GETTING SMALLER AND WE ARE GOING TO DIE!” The small ring of fire was indeed closing in, as it burned the surrounding grass up. Hiccup could tell that at least half of the hill was in flames. Unlike most of the other tribes, Berk didn't have water dragons that could douse the flames. It was always rainy enough that fires rarely started, but this was a very oddly dry summer. 

     “Right,” Hiccup pointed to the man’s riding dragon. “How much weight can it hold?”

     The man thought for a moment. “Myself, plus one other person, I reckon.”

     “Hmmm,” Hiccup rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Fishlegs, go with him.” Fishlegs didn't need to be told twice–he was secretly planning to push Hiccup out of the way to get to safety if it came down to it–he practically leaped on the dragon.

     “What about you, boy?” asked the man. 

     “I’ll be fine,” said Hiccup. “YOU,” he snapped his fingers at the exterminator dragon. “Prove to me your usefulness, and I will make sure that you are well fed for as long as you serve me. If not, then I’ll make sure I’m not the only one who dies today.” 

    The dragon nodded in understanding. And so as Fishlegs and the mysterious man lifted up off the back of the riding dragon, Hiccup walked straight through the fire, shielded by the wing of the Exterminator. It was almost soothing, the dragon scales felt cool to touch and smelled like the sea on a windy day. It felt oddly…nice…in a way Hiccup rarely felt before. 

     Eventually Hiccup was back down at the village, where men with buckets of water were starting to gather now that the fire was a big enough problem that it could potentially harm the village at the base of the hill. 

     Hiccup watched as men tried desperately to fight the roaring flames of the hill, which had almost fully gone up in flames. Eventually, with a lot of effort from everyone in the tribe, and  quite a bit of luck, the fire was extinguished before it could reach the wood huts. 

     Hiccup didn't help. He had warned them that not enslaving   enlisting water dragons was a liability. They didn't listen, they thought it was too “cruel” so why should he feel bad now? 

    “Son….your…alive…” Stoick said, lumbering up to Hiccup, who was watching the panic from mossy rock. Stoick’s words were a little strained. He was trying to sound relieved, but coming off more disappointed than anything. 

     “Yes, Father,” Hiccup rolled his eyes. “I am indeed alive , I’m oh so so terribly sorry, ” he sneered. 

     “And uh…who is this with you?” asked Stoick, gesturing to the large and muscular figure. It's not a lavalout , is it?” he asked, gazing at the mysterious figure in  suspicion. 

     The man gave a chuckle, “Oh, no, no, I’m definitely not one of those pigs in pajamas.” He pulled off his visor to reveal a very handsome– if past its prime–face, and a spectacular framing of golden hair, perfectly curled from the top of his head to the bottom of his beard. “My name is Humungoulsy Hotshot the hero.”

     “Humongous the hero!” exclaimed Stoick, suddenly painfully aware that he was standing next to one of the greatest heroes in the archipelago in nothing more than his hairy underwear and one wool sock. His face turned a sheepish red color. Fishlegs elbowed Hiccup, pointing, and the two of them snickered, which only worsened Stoick’s embarrassment 

     Stoick glanced over at Hiccup, then at Humongous and then back at Hiccup, his brows furrowed in deep thought. “Uh…mightI have a word?” asked Stoick, gesturing for Humungus to follow him. “ In private .”

      “Of course,” Nodded Humongous, stepping away from the crowd and walking with Stoick behind a nearby hut.  

     “What do you think they’re talking about?” asked Fishlegs. 

     Hiccup shrugged, ‘I don't know; something stupid, I’m sure.” After a couple of minutes, Stoik and Humongous came back out, both looking a little bit guilty. 

     “Son…this is your new bodyguard …” said Stoick, not quite meeting his son’s eye, which raised Hiccup’s suspicion.

     Hiccup folded his arms. “Since when do I need a bodyguard? You weren’t so concerned with my safety before.”

      “Well….I am now,” answered Stoick with a tone that made it quite clear he wasn’t going to answer any further questions.  

     Hiccup remained unconvinced, but he did see the benefit to having a grown man on his team, especially one that was a great hero like Humongous. “Ok,” agreed Hiccup finally, if only for the chance to have an actual good teacher (Gobber was fine at sailing, he just wasn’t a warrior. That man didn’t have a terrifying bone in his body and couldn’t sword fight for toffee).

     Now, Hiccup had started noticing odd things happening ever since Humongous became his bodyguard, but nothing that he could specifically blame on the man. 

     One time Hiccup, when helping Fishlegs and Hiccup learn how to swordfight at sea, Humongous accidentally bumped into Hiccup, causing him to fall overboard. Of course, he helped save Hiccup right after he went down. Heroically jumping out of the boat to drag him to shore. (Despite Hiccup insisting that he was fine, it is difficult to stay afloat during a harsh storm even for an experienced swimmer) 

     Then there was the time when Humongous alerted Hiccup of a boulder, RIGHT before he could be squashed by it.

     After the boulder incident, Fishlegs pulled Hiccup aside. “Listen, I don’t trust this Humunguis fellow at all.” 

     Hiccup grinned, “Are you just jealous that having his ‘grooming habits’ are now a trend and you're no longer unique Mr prince charming.” 

     Fishlegs cheeks turned red. “This is a serious, Hiccup! If you died…” Fishlegs cleared his throat. “It wouldn't be beneficial to me if you died,” he said briskly. 

     Hiccup nodded, dropping the teasing attitude for once. “Honestly, I do agree with you. That Humungus the Hero fellow is a tad suspicious. I wonder if this has anything to do with what my father and he were talking about?” 

     “Why don't you ask Old Wrinkly?” asked Fishlegs. Hiccup waved him off. 

     “He’s still pissed at me for forgetting to steal the fangfree dragon from that idiot when he was here. He won't speak a word to me, pretends I don't exist. Not that I care, it's just annoying when he has information I need.” Hiccup kicked at the ground. “If I can just find one more lost thing, he’ll forget all about it.” 

     Fishlegs shrugged. “Well, maybe you’ll get lucky.”

     Hiccup rolled his eyes, “Oh, that's SOOOO reassuring.”

     Fishlegs gritted his teeth. “I was only trying to help.”

     “Well, you can actually help me tomorrow, we’re going ruby heart stone hunting again .” Fishlegs groaned, but knew Hiccup was not the kind of boy to be argued with. 

     “UGH! Fine!”  

     As the two boys parted ways, Hiccup had a sudden twist in his gut, like something very bad was going to happen to him. He shook it off however, he was brave and strong, he could handle ANYTHING. Besides, he had a wicked cool riding dragon now, who was just starting to get the hang of commands after a great deal of shouting and a little biting on both ends. Hiccup had named it Heartless, a fitting name for such a cruel monster, completely beyond any form of goodness or redemption. 

       That night when eating dinner,  Hiccup noticed that both Humongous and Stoick looked very nervous. 

Hiccup crossed his arms, refusing to touch a single oyster on his plate. He had tossed a few to Heartless, but even that greedy dragon refused to even touch them, after giving them a sniff. 

     “Aren’t you going to eat, son?” asked Stoick, his plate uncharacteristically full. 

     Hiccup narrowed his eyes. “No. I’m not hungry.” 

        “Are you sure…. son …” Stoick sounded like he knew something, something Hiccup did not. 

     Hiccup’s frown deepened. “Yes, I’m sure. In fact, you can have my oysters.” 

     “Oh, I really couldn’t,” Stoick shook his head vigorously.

     “Why not? You always eat at least three plates at dinner. So go on, take it” Hiccup pushed his plate towards his father. When stock still didn't touch it Hiccup raised his eyebrows. “There isn't something wrong with the oysters is there?” 

Stoick tensed as he felt his son glaring at him. He picked up one oyster, carefully, his finger trembling, but before he could eat it, Humongous snatched it from his hands and swallowed it. As soon as he did, the man's face turned first pail and then a little sea-green. Hiccup's suspicions shot to the sun. He swallowed some ale to get rid of the dry, terrible feeling in his mouth, but he was careful not to show any fear or discomfort. 

     “I’m going to bed father,” he said coldly, getting up and walking to his bed, however, just to be safe he slipped a knife under his pillow. He had a feeling he would need it.

Chapter Text

     Hiccup woke up to Humongous standing over his bed like the grim reaper himself,  sword pointed down only an inch away from his heart, ready to strike. 

     “I should do it…I shouldn’t do it…But I must , but I can’t .” Hiccup was a quick-thinking boy, and Humongous’s indecisiveness gave him time. He blinked any remaining sleep out of his eyes and grabbed the knife under his pillow, glad that he had had the foresight to place it there. 

      “Put the sword down,” said Hiccup with a yawn. “It’s way too damn early in the morning for a proper fight. The sun isn't even up. If you're going to fight me, then fight me in daylight like a man, coward .”

     Humongous paused then slowly drew back his sword, sheathing it. “I cannot kill you, kid.”

     “Right..mind telling me why you were trying to skewer me in the middle of the night?” asked Hiccup, still clutching the knife tightly. “I mean, there are a plethora of possible reasons; I’m not exactly popular , but I want to know yours specifically. I don't remember robbing or maiming you specifically. Was it a relative?”

Humongous shook his head. “Oh no, it’s not personal. Just a job.”

     “A  job?”  asked Hiccup, sitting up straighter. He was not particularly angry, just intrigued (and a little proud, if he was being honest; someone deemed him worthy of being assassinated, and that had to count for something ). “Who sent you?” Hiccup looked eagerly at Humongous. 

     Humongous looked away, guiltily. “Well…”

     “Yes?” snapped Hiccup impatiently, drumming his fingers on his weapon. 

     “I’m not sure-”

     “GET ON WITH IT!” yelled Hiccup, waking up a very angry Heartless, who gave a mad puff of smoke and a growl at being woken up, but didn’t complain, not out loud, though in his head, he was chewing Hiccup’s arm off. 

       “Stoick the vast hired me to kill you.” Answered Humongous quickly, as if the information was a poison he was all too eager to get out of his system. 

      “My own father,” muttered Hiccup bitterly. “I thought as much. I knew he never really loved me-and I don't love him either.” Heartless nodded in approval. Love was such a silly human emotion. He would never love. 

     Humongous felt a small twang in his heart for this small, angry boy. He couldn't help but reach a hand out to comfort him. Hiccup slapped him away so hard it left the back of the palm red. “DON'T TOUCH ME!” Then, gathering his nerves, Hiccup continued to speak. “I assume you have been trying to kill me for a while, and you almost managed to kill me more times than I would like to admit, so why stop yourself. Why not kill me, if it’s a job?” 

     Humongous sighed, “I made a promise to a man, a kind man, that I would protect you and your friend.”

     “Why?” asked Hiccup, leaning back against the bed. He couldn't ever see himself keeping such a stupid sentimental promise. 

     “It is a very long story.”

      “Well, do YOU have something better to do?” snapped Hiccup, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

       “No, I suppose not,” Humongous admitted with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

Chapter Text

     Alvin really wasn't the kind of man to go looking for trouble. However he had a good heart and could rarely resist the urge to help people in need, even if it put his own life in danger. 

    One day he was selling his potatoes to an island. He hadn't known that they cured Vorpentitis, but now that he did, he decided it would be best to share them with the rest of the archipelago. Soon, Alvin the poor-but-honest farmer would be Alvin the relatively-decently-well-off and honest farmer. He didn’t care much about the money, but it was nice to sometimes be able to buy new things, like yarn for knitting Toothless a coat. While sailing back home from his latest trading,  he had to pass the terrible island of the Lavalouts. 

     He had no business going to that island. It was a horrible, cruel place…. but . 

     Maybe my son is there , thought Alvin, or my mother. 

     Toothless gave a low whine as Alvin turned the ship away from home and started steering towards the island. “M-m-master! W-w-why are we going to h-here i-it’s dangerous!” 

     “I know toothless, I know,” cooed Alvin, petting the little dragon’s wing. “But I promise you’ll be safe. Just stay under my helmet.”

     “You h-h-humans are c-crazy,” muttered the small dragon, crawling to the safe place under Alvin’s helmet. 

    Alvin quietly snuck into the Lavalouts' work camp. He knocked out a guard, who was wandering alone, with the flat of his sword, in order to steal his fire suit as a disguise. “Sorry,” whispered Alvin to the blacked-out guard, as he slipped on the gloves and head covering. “But I really need to blend in.”

     He left an apology note on the half-naked guard, who, when he woke up in the bushes in only his hairy underwear and socks, didn't even bother to read it, which was a shame since it was a rather lovely apology. Maybe not as poetic as Alvin’s late lover, Termagant, but still nice. 

     Alvin tried to act like the guard, walking around with his hands on his hips, trying to act tough,  which was rather hard since he was around two sizes thinner than even the smallest Lavalout and the firesuit hung awkwardly on him in loose folds. “Luckily, none of the other Lavalouts were paying enough attention to notice the discrepancies. 

     Alvin approached one of the prisoners discreetly. He tapped on the metal bars of the cell. “Excuse me?”

“What do you want, you pig?” asked the man gruffly.

     “Oh no!” Alvin hurriedly shook his head. “I’m not with them.” He nodded towards the other two guards who were having an argument across the room. 

     “Oh? Then who are you? A fairy?” asked the man, sarcastically. “You look a lot like the Lavalout scum; you are wearing the suit and all.”

     “I just had to steal a fire suit. I promise I am not like them.”

       “Oh, then who are you?” asked the man as he crossed his arms, his great blond brows furrowed.

    “I’m Al-” Alvin paused for a moment. He didn't know this man, or if he was to be trusted. He had been getting so many visitors since the scullion incident that he had to move his little potato farm to a different part of the island. Alvin liked visitors, but he also valued his peace and quiet. Not to mention that being of the “treacherous” lineage meant that most people tried to get revenge now and ask questions later.

     “My name is Al, terrific Al,” lied Alvin. If this man were truly a friend, he would reveal his real identity later.

    “Well, I’m Humungously Hotshot the Ex-Hero, it's a pleasure to meet you Al, my good fellow. What are you doing in a dump like this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

    “I-I’m looking for my mother and son. Have you seen them? My mother is an elderly woman: long white hair, can soothsay, very wise. My son…well, I don't exactly know what he even looks like, but he should be around 13, I believe.”

    Humongous shook his head slowly, “No, I don't think I've seen anyone of the sort around here.”

     “Oh.” Alvin’s shoulders deflated a little in disappointment. He wasn’t going to give up yet, but it was still disheartening that he was wrong once again. 

     “Hey,” Humongous tried to cheer him up. “You should be thankful your kin isn't here. This place is terrible and definitely not fit for old women or 13-year-old boys!”

    “I suppose so…” Alvin tried to be optimistic. So what if his family wasn't here? They were probably on some sunny island–maybe Rome– sipping ice cold honeymead in the shade, without a single care in the world, at least that was the life he hoped for his loving mother and son, even if he knew it was probably not the case. Every year he failed to locate them, and year after year he wondered if he was starting to wonder if it was too late, perhaps, and he would never find them.

       “What are you doing here?” asked Alvin, trying to distract himself.

     “Oh, you know,” sighed Humongous. “I tried to steal a fire stone to win the right to marry my beautiful love Valhallarama, but got captured by those cowards, the Lavalouts. Even heroes lose sometimes. I’ve been stuck here for many years. All the heat and smoke really is dreadful, but at least I’m not a slave, technically .” The man wiped some sweat off his brow. “You don’t happen to know how my love is doing now, do you?” Asked Humongous, looking at Alvin curiously.  

      Alvin gulped, nervously fidgeting with the glove off his fire suit. “No, I don't suppose I do...” 

    “You're lying, aren’t you?” pressed the man, “Come on, tell me, mate. How is she? Does she still wait for me? She promised to come back and rescue me if I sent her this half of a Ruby heart-stone?” Humongous drew out of his pocket a gold chain, and hanging in the end of it was half of a heart-shaped ruby sparkling beautifully. “I couldn’t get it to her because those mindless oafs that captured me shot my dragon.”

     “Well….um she’s doing good…uh …uh…she’s married .”

    “MARRIED?!” gasped Humongous, stumbling back and nearly falling over in shock. “BUT THE PROMISE SHE MADE ME!”

    “Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” said Alvin tactfully. It was best not to anger an emotional ex-Viking hero who is a foot taller than you and around at least a hundred pounds heavier, even if they are behind bars. “But it has been at least 11 years.” 

      “11 YEARS! My word! I’ve been here longer than I thought.” Humongous slumped sadly to the floor. “Maybe I’ll never get away, maybe I'll just die here alone in this prison cell.” 

    “Oh, don’t say that…” Alvin reassured, crouching down to Humungous’s level. “hey …uh maybe I can break you out of here.”

       “W-why are we helping him?” groaned Toothless from inside Alvin’s pocket. “W-why can't we j-j-just go home?”

     “Because,” scolded Alvin. “This man needs our help, and I can’t just leave him here to rot.”

     “W-why n-not?”

    “BECAUSE!” Alvin was not in the mood to be argued with. “Now won’t you please come out and help me, Toothless?” asked Alvin, feeling inside his pockets only to get bitten by Toothless’s sharp little gums.

     “N-n-no way, T-toothless isn’t doing anything f-for m-mean master.” Alvin could feel Toothless diving deeper into his pockets. 

    “Come on, Toothless! Come out pretty please,” begged Alvin.

     “N-N-NO!”

       “I’ll give you a dozen oysters when we get home,” promised Alvin. 

     Toothless went quiet for a moment, his greed getting the better of his frustration. “M-make it 2 dozen,” the little dragon negotiated. 

    “I can't give you two dozen oysters, you'll make yourself sick and- oh, all right,” relented Alvin. He was going to regret his promise the next day, he knew for sure. “I’ll get you 2 dozen oysters, but ONLY if you help right now and you CANNOT eat them all at once.”

       “O-o-k.” Toothless promised, with no intention of keeping his word, then he flapped out of his hiding place and perched on Alvin’s shoulder. 

    “THAT is one of the SMALLEST common or garden dragons I have ever seen,” commented Humongous staring at the creature in curiosity.

     Toothless gave out an indignant puff, lifting his snout into the air. “T-T-TOOTHLESS IS N-N-NOT A COMMON DRAGON! TOOTHLESS IS A V-V-VERY RARE AND SPECIAL TOOTHLESS DAYDREAM!” 

    “I know, I know, Toothless. You're right,” soothed Alvin, stroking the little dragon’s head.

     “You can understand that creature?” asked Humongous. “That’s impressive.”

    Alvin smiled awkwardly, blushing from the rare flattery. “Only a little, I’m nowhere near fluent. I know this one boy who can speak it almost fluently, much better than I can.”

     “Ah. What’s the creature saying now, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

      “He says that he’s a ‘ very special toothless daydream dragon prince ’” 

     Humongous rubbed his beautiful golden beard. “I don’t think that’s a rea-” Alvin looked at the man with pleading eyes and mouthed the words play along. The man understood and stopped himself. “OH! The toothless daydreams ! How could I have forgotten the most…er…. feared and mighty dragons in the archipelago!”

    Toothless closed his eyes and nodded his head proudly. A crow of satisfaction escaped his body.

    “Right, so how do you expect me to get out of here? Asked Humongous. 

     Alvin instructed Toothless to pick the lock with his sharp, little claws. “Just stay very quiet. We don’t want to attract attention. And if anyone asks any questions uh..I'm taking you to be….”

     “Whipped?” asked Humongous, who had unfortunately felt the painful sting of the rope several times throughout his entrapment

    “Uh…yes…that.” Alvin really hated the idea of any creature getting hurt, but if he had to pretend to be a brute to help them escape, he would. 

    Toothless fiddled with the lock until there was a clear click, then hopped back onto Alvin’s shoulder. Alvin turned his head and glanced around to see that no one was watching them. Once he was sure that no one would be looking, he motioned for Humungous to follow him to the iron back-door of that terrible prison, where just outside the hopeful puffin sat waiting, docked on the shore, and freedom was only a swift sail away.

     Just before Alvin could open that door and leave this horrible, god-forsaken place, never to return again, he heard a low whine. 

     It was a truly pathetic and hopeless sound. It came from a cage hidden in the corner of the room, drenched in shadows

     Alvin turned towards it instinctively.

     “W-w-what are we d-doing?!” wailed Toothless. “W-w-were supposed to be g-going home. T–T-this is n-not the direction of h-home!”

     “I’m sorry, Toothless,” whispered Alvin. ‘But I can't leave a suffering creature.”

      “H-h-humans are too s-soft,” grumbled Toothless before diving back into Alvin’s pocket.

      “Where are you going?” hissed Humongous, who was about to be free for the first time in over a decade. “I thought we were leaving!” 

      Alvin pointed at the ominous cage. “There is something living in that cage.” 

     Humungous and Alvin both walked slowly towards the crate. Another soft, desperate sound escaped it. Alvin squinted his eyes. “It looks like a dragon.” The creature was cowering in the back of the cage as far away from the men as it could. Alvin spoke as calmly and reassuringly as he could. “Excuse me, but could you tell me what your name is?” The dragon said nothing. Avlin tried again. “Could you tell me how you got here?” The dragon didn’t utter a single word but let out a low whine. 

     “I think t-this dragon is c-c-cray,” whispered Toothless. “L-l-lets just leave i-it.”

    “No, Toothless,” scolded Alvin. “We cannot leave a fellow creature in need.” Alvin crouched down so he could meet the creature's glowing eye at its level. “Hey, can you speak at all?” The dragon was still silent, but it looked almost guilty. “That's ok. Can you at least understand me?” the creature nodded its head slowly. “That’s good. I’m going to get you out of here.”  The creature just stared, tilting its head like it didn’t quite believe Alvin.

     Alvin fiddled with the lock. It was a pain trying to get the cage to open, if only there was some kind of key that opened every lock….

    Eventually, the rusted door of the iron cage creaked open. The creature slowly crawled out, limping. It held its head low, like a beaten dog. The first thing Alvin noticed was that the poor thing was limping. One of its front paws had been hacked off and was now loosely bandaged with dirty cloth.

      “Those brutes," Alvin grumbled as he tried to lift the paw up to get a closer look at the damage, but the creature jerked away, its wings and tail quivering and tense. "Easy,” soothed Alvin gently. “I just need to see your leg for a moment. I swear on my life and honor that I am not going to hurt you.” The dragon made a frightened noise but did not move away again.

     Alvin cleaned the wounds as best as he could in a rush and wrapped it up in a clean handkerchief. "There we got,” he said, standing up, whipping the green blood on his pants. “That should hold up until we get home.”

     The dragon remained quiet, but it gave a small nod of gratitude.

    “Hey, what are you doing here!” a real Lavalout shouted when he saw the free dragon and prisoner.

     “Oh dear,” thought Alvin. He backed away, speaking calmly, but his hand was reaching for the hilt of his sword. He had a feeling diplomacy might not work with these particular vikings. “Now just let us leave and we will be no trouble at all. It doesn't have to get messy. We are on our way.”

    The man pointed a meaty, accusing finger at Alvin. “You’re not a Lavalout, are you?”

      “I w-well-”

“HAH I KNEW IT! THERE’S NO WAY A MAN SO SCRAWNY COULD BE ONE OF US! YOU’RE AN IMPOSTER! A THIEF!" The man lunged towards Alvin, but he dodged out of the way. For a man who had never had any formal training since he ran away from his tribe as a child, he wasn’t half bad.

     “R-R-RUN!” screeched Toothless. 

    That sounded like a great idea to Alvin, only he wasn’t sure if the dragon they freed could even run, with its leg and all. 

     “Toothless, you go with the dragon, make sure it gets onto the ship, and come back when it's there. We’ll hold them off.”

     “T0-that’s a terrible plan!’ squeaked Toothless, but he did as he was told anyway. ‘C-come on y-you b-b-black dragon r-r-rat. We have t-to get you to the s-ship so that T-toothless can fetch his s-s-stupid master.”

     “Can you sword fight? Alvin asked Humongous as he drew the endeavor. 

    “Oh, I suppose I can a little,” he said modestly, trying to keep the pride out of his voice. “I did beat Flashburn himself in a duel once-”

     “That’s great, but save the story for another time. Take this,” Alvin tossed Humungous his sword. “Because I'm hopeless at it.” To give Alvin credit, he was not completely hopeless at sword fighting. In fact, for someone with almost zero professional training, he was rather good, but it was still a smarter decision to let Humungous, someone renowned for their fighting craft, take the lead.

     As Humungus bravely fought the Lavalout. Alvin snuck up behind him and whacked him as hard as he could upside the head. 

      “That wasn't a very glamorous move,” commented Humungous, who preferred flashier battle moves, as many Viking heroes do, handing back Alvin his sword with a graceful toss, which Alvin almost didn't catch.

    “Yeah? Well, you're still alive. Now come on, we have to get to the boat!” The two men ran as fast as they could, dodging arrows, until they got to the bottom of the hill where the ship was docked.

     “F-f-finally!” squeaked Toothless, perching on Alvin's shoulder like an angry falcon and biting him on the ear sharply. 

       “Ow! Toothless,” Alvin was too anxious to even be mad at the little dragon. “Wait!” A thought occurred to Alvin as he took up the oar of the hopeful puffin. “What about the other prisoners?” He wasn’t the kind of man to leave innocent people behind. 

       “Oh, them?” They will be fine,” answered Humungous, grabbing the other oar and paddling as fast as he could from the island. “I hear talk that a volcano is going to explode, releasing a terrible swarm of dragons that are going to kill every living thing on the island. The Lavalout cowards are going first, and when there is no one to guard them, I’m sure everyone else will make their escape too,” said humungous cheerily.

     Alvin stared at the man, eyes wide at the massive revelation. “I’M SORRY WHAT?! A VOLCANO IS GOING TO CREATE A SWARM OF DRAGONS THAT KILLS EVERYONE! THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SAY SO CASUALLY!”

      “Yes, exactly. You see my point, my good man.” Humungous patted Alvin heartily on the back. “If I were you, I would pack up all my belongings tonight, my friend, and find someplace sunny to go, Spain perhaps, or France?”

“No, I am afraid I can't do that,” Alvin shook his head solemnly. “My mother and son are most likely somewhere in his archipelago, and I AM NOT leaving until I know they are safe.”

       “You might die if you stay,” warned Humungous. 

       Alvin chuckled. “I have a knack for staying alive, Thor only knows how. My son will not live his life as an orphan. That is the promise of a father.” 

      “Well,” hummed Humungous, patting Alvin on the shoulder. “I wish you and your missing son the very best, but I for one am leaving as soon as I can. I am DONE with the hero business. Say, you wouldn’t mind dropping me off on the nearest peaceful island so I can get some things, maybe some quick cash, before I go?”

    “It's no problem,” answered Alvin, smiling. “I think we are near the island of the hooligans. Say-if you were to go there, could I ask a favor?”

      “A favor?” repeated Humungous, cautiously. 

“Yes..there is a boy…smallish ginger, massive anger issues. I’m….a little worried about him. Promise me if you see him, you’ll do all in your power to protect him and his friends-a short blond girl and a tall boy with glasses–please.”

Now Humungous might have put heroic deeds behind him long ago, but this man had just risked his own safety to save him, despite not knowing him personally.  “You really care about his boy, huh?” he mused.

    “He’s…he isn’t evil just…a little different...and misguided…please. If he's in danger, give me your MOST solemn promise that you will help.”

    Humungous wondered who this boy was, that a grown man had to explain that he wasn’t evil. However, he was a warrior once so he was sure he had faced worse than anything a smallish viking could do to him. “Alright, I swear to you, my friend, that I will help protect the boy if he needs it.”

Chapter Text

     Hiccup crossed his arms. “That's the stupidest story I have ever heard in my 11 years of life, and that man is CLEARLY Alvin the Treacherous using a fake name.”

     Humongous gasped. The Treacherous's had well earned their infamy within the archipelago. “A treacherous? You mean the royal line of the outcasts, but Al is such a nice guy.”

       Hiccup was about to agree with Humungus and say that Alvin was a pathetic softie, but then he realized he might be able to get Humungus to hate Alvin as much as he did, with just a little Viking trickery. “Oh yes, he’s a Treacherous, alright. He’s even more evil than I am. Did you know, he fought me over 3 times, and he’s a grown man!  He also eats babies too, or …something like that.”

        “Really?” Humungous gasped in horror. Hiccup had to grip his blanket to keep himself from giving away the lie. What an idiot this man was. 

     “Oh yes,” Hiccup nodded, giving a little sniff to add to the illusion of an innocent child that had been ruthlessly attacked by a grown man multiple times, while conveniently ignoring the fact that he himself was the one who instigated those fights. “Alvin is a wicked man and cannot be trusted. THAT'S clearly the REAL reason he lied to you.”

     Humongous frowned, feeling a twinge of disappointment. Al was so friendly and gentle, could that all have really been a front? 

       “That is why you should be on my side and NOT his,” continued Hiccup. 

     Humongous rubbed his head, the news still settling in. “I can’t believe I’ve been tricked. I must be losing my edge, I tell you.” 

    Hiccup patted his shoulder in mocking comfort. “It happens to the best of us cough cough loser cough cough.” 

     Humongous decided to ignore Hiccup’s not particularly hidden insult, since bigger things were at play. “So what do we do now? I can't in good conscience kill you, but if I don't, I won't get paid, and after so many long years captured I don’t really have anything left to my name.” 

     Hiccup thought for a moment. He didn’t enjoy charity, but perhaps there was a mutually beneficial solution. “If you help me, I will make sure you have more gold than you know what to do with. You said the exterminators would wipe out the entire archipelago right?”

    Humungous nodded, “Those evil creatures will leave not a piece of flesh on any other animal out there. They are insatiable, vile beasts.” He glanced over to Heartless glaring on the floor like an angry,  inky crocodile. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh…no offense, Heartless.” Heartless gave a low growl in return, his sharp reptile eyes narrowing, but said nothing. 

      “Are you SURE they aren’t trainable?” pressed Hiccup. 

      “Oh yes, you might have gotten lucky with ONE but there will be hundreds. There is no way on earth you can keep all of them in your control.” 

    “There has to be a way-WAIT!” Hiccup’s eyes widened in excitement. “You said you were trying to steal the firestone in order to win my mother's hand and all that sappy love nonsense Fishlegs writes about, correct?”

      “That is…corrected,” Humongous raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going. 

    Hiccup’s voice was starting to get louder and more rapid. “So Valhalarama’s father, my grandfather, Old Wrinkly, sent you to get the firestone, the one that is currently being used as the speaking stone in The Thing .” 

Humongous nodded. “I suppose, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know my grandfather like I do!” Hiccup’s eyes shone with a wild light, and he grinned slightly manically. “If he sent you to get the stone, it MUST have been VERY important!”

   Hiccup practically leaped out of bed, leaving his blanket skewed on the floor. He kicked Heartless to get him going. “Come on, you great brute, you're coming too! Oh, don't growl at me like that; your skin is thick you hardly felt that. If I really wanted to hurt you, I could .” Heartless loathed Hiccup but decided that staying obedient for now would prove better for him in the long run, so he refrained from snapping off the boy’s toes.

      Humongous found himself sprinting faster than the wind, in the middle of the night, to an old  fortuneteller's hut. 

    Hiccup banged on the ominous door so loud, he might have woken the whole village up. Or maybe they were used to it, since no one seemed to stir, and the night remained as black and lonesome as ever. 

   A very old crooked-looking man opened the door, the bits of bone braided into his beard gleamed in the moonlight, and so did his sharp, claw-like iron nails. They shone in a playfully wicked fashion, like they were eager to be used.

    “ODIN’S ASHTRAY, IT’S HIM!” exclaimed Humungus, suddenly feeling a decade younger in the worst way possible. Old Wrikily was just as terrifying now as he was all those many, many years ago when Humungus came to him to ask for Valhalaram's hand in marriage. Come to think of it now, maybe there was a silver lining to having lost the love of his life. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with this sinister, decrepit old creature as a father-in-law.

    The crooked old man looked extremely cross as he blinked the final reminisce of sleep out of his eyes. He narrowed his eyes at Hiccup, who subconsciously stepped just a little closer to Heartless. He could smell the fear mixing with Hiccup’s sweat–as Exterminators have excellent senses–even though the boy was so good at concealing it, no one else suspected a thing. Heartless didn’t know why, but he felt angry at the man towering in front of Hiccup.

      “Hello, grandfather.” Hiccup said quietly, his hands twisted into tight fists at his side.  Old Wrinkly didn't answer; his scowl only deepened, as his nails drummed on his tattered black robe impatiently. 

     “I can see that you're still mad that I let Alvin go with the lost thing,” Hiccup continued through gritted teeth, trying his best to keep his cool. “BUT I’m sure that I can make it up. You know I’m good with dragons, and Humungus here says that a horde of truly powerful monsters will be hatching just as soon as a volcano over yonder blows its top. If I could figure out a way to control them, I wouldn't even need to find any of the lost things, and we wouldn't even have to wait till doomsday. I could just crown myself king right now. Who could stop me, if I had an army of dragons?”

   Old Wrinkly’s fingers twitched as they stopped their rhythmic tapping. Hiccup had caught his attention. It was a risky move. He himself was far too old to quest for the things to become king. Stoick was far too stupid. Perhaps he could convince Valhalarama to take Hiccup's place if this plan failed miserably and the boy ended up dead. 

     That was unlikely, however, his daughter set foot in Berk for over 5 years. She had always been off some place or other after Hiccup was born–well, after it was evident he wasn’t a normal child. Gradually, she started to come back less and less, before she stopped coming back entirely. Now she wouldn't even answer the letters sent to her, not even the ones by her own son. Though, Hiccup had only written to her once, back when he found himself in a tricky situation even HE couldn't handle. (At seven years of age he had scribbled out a desperate plea for help after being kidnapped by one of the tribe with the nasty tendency to kill first and ask questions later. He waited for six days and got nothing. No helpful advice, no loving note, nothing to even acknowledge that the letter was delivered at all. Hiccup escaped, of course; he is the Hiccup horrendous haddock the third after all, but that was the day everyone on Berk realized, Valhalarama was most likely never coming back.

    However, there was still one descendant of Grimbeard that Old Wrinkly could manipulate if Hiccup didn’t make it. Snotlout was a disgrace of a Viking and just about as soft as you could get, but he was pliable, and as a backup, he might work. With his size and strength, he did have some potential. 

    Old Wrinkly blew a ring of pungent smoke into Humungus's face, making the man grimace. Then he went back inside his hut, and when. Hiccup heard rummaging and the sound of papers being turned. When Old Wrinkly came out, he held a massive book that looked almost as old as he was. His gaunt hands flipped it to a page, and he tapped it with his iron fingernails, which were so sharp, they punctured the paper.

    Hiccup read the riddle of Lavalout Island out loud. It was very difficult to see in the dark, but the full moon shone just bright enough that he could make out the words if he squinted hard enough. (you can google it I'm too lazy to transcribe it sorry)

     “What does it mean?” asked Humungus, thoroughly puzzled. 

    “I think it means that the firestone gives you the ability to control the exterminators,” answered Hiccup, a slow grin spreading across his face as he realized the power so close to his grasp. “This will be so much fun .”

Chapter Text

      “Alright," explained Hiccup as he, Fishlegs, and Camicazi huddled together. “Here is the plan. Humongous will steal the firestone, and then we sail to Lavalout island with the stone and come back with an army of Exterminators and overthrow anyone who opposes me."

     'Don't you mean us?" scowled Fishlegs sourly.

     "No." 

     “S-so we are sailing to an island with a v-volcano that's about to erupt?” gulped Camicazi. This was NOT how she wanted to spend the boiling hot afternoon. This was just her luck. She couldn't go a week without being pulled into yet another violently dangerous, raving mad scheme. 

     Hiccup looked over at her, deeply annoyed. “Yes, is there a problem?” he glared, making it very clear that constructive criticism of his “brilliant” plan was not welcome.

       “I…I mean, isn’t that dangerous?” pointed out Camicazi, trying to avoid Hiccup’s sharp gaze. 

    “I hate to agree with the crybaby,” Fishlegs said, checking his too-well-trimmed-for-a-boy nails. “But what if your oh so amazing plan doesn’t work. We’d be stuck on an island full of killer dragons.”

     “Then at least you won’t have to worry about dying alone,” shrugged Hiccup.

     “That’s comforting-WAIT A MINUTE!” But Hiccup was not going to wait. He was already headed towards The Thing, with enough concealed weapons on his person to break 50 peace treaties. 

     “I guess we are going on yet another crazy adventure,” an exasperated Fishlegs grumbled as he begrudgingly followed Hiccup.

     "A-at least we’ll be helping people,” said Camicazi, stumbling behind the two boys, desperately trying to grasp onto any silver lining to keep herself from spiraling into a panic attack. “You know, saving the archipelago instead of…hurting people…” She tucked a piece of her wild blond hair behind her eyes, looking down as she softly mumbled. “I’ve always wanted to be a hero.” 

     “Don’t kid yourself,” snapped Fishlegs. “You're just a sidekick and a mediocre background singer at best. You will never be a hero, so quit trying.”

     Camicazi’s spirits deflated a little, like a balloon that had been stepped on. “One d-day I'll be a-I'll be a hero,” she repeated, though much too quietly for anyone other than herself to hear. 

     As they reached The Thing, Fishlegs tripped her, sending her stumbling into the mud and muck of the berk bog. “See, you’re not a hero, girlie. You’re just a big joke.” 

     Camicazi sniffed, trying not to cry as she climbed back up and miserably wiped the muck off herself. 

     “Why did you do that?”

     Fishlegs grinned. “Because it was funny. Geeze, lighten up. Can’t take a joke?”

     Camicazi chucked weakly; it was easier to pretend they were laughing with her and not at her. “Yeah…a joke…”

     When they got to The Thing, Hiccup was stopped by a seven-foot-three Uglythug man with a gold tooth and a missing eye. 

     “Sorry, I’m afraid  I have to check you.”

     “Oh come on!” Hiccup threw up his hands in exasperation. “No one else is being stopped!”

     “No one else has a track record of bringing concealed weapons. Now you know the rules, drop them, boy.” 

     Fishlegs stuck his tongue out at Hiccup as the rest of the group walked straight into the thing without problem, while Hiccup was being detained. 

      Hiccup grumbled as he threw two large knives into the weaponry pile, as well as a few poison darts. He came very close to biting the Viking who patted him down. However, as he was trying to be a little discreet, he restrained himself.  

     Finally, the man stepped aside and motioned that he was free to go. Hiccup grumbled some rather nasty curses as he walked into The Thing. The people who saw him glared at him. Hiccup grinned as warriors carefully moved out of his way like a parting tide. Hiccup would like to think that they were all intimidated by him, but in reality, many of them were just not interested in picking fights 24/7 like Hiccup was. Some had better things to do than entertain an unusually violent eleven-year-old. 

     Hiccup sat down on a rock covered in dried moss next to Fishlegs. A teenage girl was sitting way too close to him, babbling stupidly about his latest love song, her eyes just about as wide as possible. She looked well-kept, and had some very nice, very sealable jewelry on, royal perhaps. Though over her finer clothes, she wore the cheap custom embroidered Tunic that Fishlegs had sold two years ago. It read “Fishleg’s #1 fan” In rather shoddy threadwork. Even though they were sold legitimately, the real crime was that anyone actually bought such cheap clothing at such a high markup in the first place, just because Fishlegs's name was slapped on it. Hiccup eventually recognized her as Barbara the barbarian. She had been in the front row of every show for about as long as Fishlegs had been performing.  He had to taze her with an electro-squirm once. Good memories. 

     “That lyric was genius, you're really good at poetry and so very handsome too!”

      Fishlegs tossed his hair, eyeing her with suspicion. “Yeah, I know.” 

     Hiccup snickered as the girl leaned closer, her face as red as a lobster. Fishlegs leaned as far back as he could, clearly very uncomfortable. She placed a hand on his thigh, leaning in for a kiss. 

       Fishlegs quickly shoved her away so hard she fell onto the ground, his eyes slightly panicked. “HEY! DON’T TOUCH ME!”

     The girl looked offended as she stared up at her idol. Fishlegs forced himself to smile widely, as if he were on stage again. “Here, let me give you an autograph and a FREE ticket to my next show. There WILL be fireworks, courtesy of Hiccup. It's always great to meet a fan, GOODBYE!” he winked at her, and with strained sweetness waved her away. 

     Reluctantly, the girl left, placated by the free tickets and autograph...and something else. 

     Fishlegs groaned as he adjusted his glasses, allowing him to spot something brown and silky in the girl's hand. 

     “Camicazi, check my hair,” he asked, his jaw clenched. 

     Camicazi looked over his perfect cluster of chocolate curls. “It looks like a little piece has been snipped off, just by your ear.” 

     “GOD DAMN IT! EVERY TIME!” 

     Hiccup snickered. “Having trouble with a fangirl again, I see.”

     “At least I have fans,” Fishlegs replied snidely. 

    Hiccup sat down next to them lazily, with all the smugness of someone who thinks they already own the world. “I won’t need fans or friends when I have an army of exterminator dragons.” 

     Hiccup took a small dagger out of a hiding place in his boots and began to clean the dirt from under his nails.

     “Y-you aren’t supposed to bring in weapons,” stammered Camicazi, as she glanced around, worried that someone would see them. 

     “What are you, a tattle?” Hiccup rolled his eyes. Camicazi kept quiet.

     As the Vikings all took their turn with the fire stone, Hiccup just leaned back on the rock and waited for Humongous to finally steal the firestone so that they could be off to Lavalout island

    Camicazi’s mood was lifted a little when she spotted Snotlout approaching them, a pleasant smile on his face and a berk rose tucked into his hair. 

     “Hey what are you guys doing?” He asked. “Also, hasn’t Hiccup been banned from The Thing after he threw the firestone at someone’s head?”

      “Oh that, that was only temporary. Besides, he lived,” grinned Hiccup, twirling the dagger between his fingers. Snotlout decided not to even comment on the fact that weapons weren’t allowed at The Thing. He knew Hiccup wouldn’t listen to him anyway. 

     “Why are you here?” asked Snotlout. “I thought you hated democracy.”

     “I do,” purred Hiccup. “Why hear the voice of a hundred idiots when mine is the only one that even matters. For your information, we are here on a VERY important mission.” 

    Snotlout's eyes crinkled in amusement.  “Oh, really? What is it that you're doing this time?”

     Hiccup snorted. “Like I'm going to tell you!? HAH!” 

     Snotlout frowned. “You know I could help you, right? I still care about you, as my cousin by blood, and I really would hate to see you hurt.”

     Hiccup waved his hand dismissively. “Oh please, spare me the sentimental garbage. YOU, help ME? HAH! That is rich,” laughed Hiccup. “If I need help making flower crowns or painting hearts, I'll make sure to call you, but please be serious, my dear cousin,” he sneered. “You are not a REAL Viking and you never will be.”

     “I am a Viking,” protested Snotlout, crossing his arms, his face growing hotter. 

     “Lets see,” Hiccup listed off on his fingers all the Viking things that Snotloud had proved to be sub-par at. “You can’t fight; you can’t use an axe; you can’t aim; you can't play bashyball; you can’t yell. Honestly, the only thing Viking about you is the way you look. All that muscle wasted on a big softie. You're about as intimidating as a teddy bear." 

     Snotlout wanted to argue further, but he knew he couldn't. He was the type of boy to apologize to a bug for stepping on it. Hiccup was being mean, but he wasn’t being wrong. 

     Before he left, he noticed Camicazi tilted her head at a Hiccup, then a little to the side, her lips pressed together, as if to say, talk to me when Hiccup is distracted. 

     Snotlout wondered what had the small, anxious Bogburgler looking even more nervous than usual. 

     Hiccup got tired of waiting for Humongous and got up to stretch his legs (and his thievery skills), and with Fishlegs too disinterested to notice anything.  Camicazi was able to whisper to Snotlout. 

     “The volcano on Lavalout island is going to explode, and it will release a swarm of deadly dragons, the type Hiccup has now, hundreds if not thousands of them.” 

     Snotlout paled. He did NOT need a hundred more Heartlesses. The dragon had already set his hair on fire twice, just for being near it, all while Hiccup just laughed his ass off. “We are going to the island today. Hiccup wants to try to wield the dragons but…I'm not sure if even HE can…”

     He grabbed the girl by her shoulders. “You can’t be serious, that sounds EXTREMELY dangerous. What if you die!” 

     “I know,” sniffed Camicazi. “But if we don’t try anything, everyone will be forced to flee or die too. For once, Hiccup is doing the right thing, albeit for the wrong reasons. I want to be a hero for once and not a big joke….” 

     Snotlout understood what it was like to want to be a hero, but in his eyes, it was better to be a breathing coward than a dead hero. Before Snotlout could protest, Camicazi hugged him, burying her face in his large chest. “I’m scared,” she whispered, her voice nearly breaking. 

     After the initial startle, Snoutlout hugged her back, petting her wild hair. “I promise you you will be ok. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

     Camicazi heard someone gagging. “Would you stop with the sentimentalness?” Hiccup stood four feet away, holding the firestone under his arm, a very nervous-looking Humongous standing next to him. “We need to go NOW! Before the Vikings realize it’s missing.” 

      Three smallish Vikings and one ex-Viking hero booked it out of the thing silently. The other warriors still fought in that massive heap of sweat, limbs, and violence, for a stone that had already been nicked. They would figure it out. Eventually, but for now, Hiccup, Fishlegs, Camicazi, Humongous, and Heartless were sailing as fast as they could away from the gathering and towards Lavalout Island.

     Snotlout watched them sail away quietly. “I really hope you’re right about this, Camicazi,” He whispered to nobody in particular. 

Chapter Text

     “I think I came up with the title for my next song,” grumbled Fishlegs bitterly, as the salty waves of the ocean sprayed his hair. The cool sailing winds and mist would have felt rather nice on the scorching day, if they weren’t headed to an island full of killer dragons. “It's called we are all going to die, and it's all Hiccup’s fault. Verse one, AHEM-”

     Hiccup promptly cut his friend off by grabbing the quill and parchment out of his hands and chucking them both into the sea. They bobbed on top of the waves for a little, before a crashing wave sank them for good.

     Camicazi stood at the bow of the ship, ignoring the fight beginning to break out behind her. The island in the distance was getting bigger. She could see terrible smoke coming from the large mountain in the center. They were going to save the archipelago; she just had to think positively. She would be ok. She would be ok…and she was crying…again. She wiped the few stray tears off of her face. “I am not a crybaby,” she said, trying to convince herself it was true. “I am brave.” The words sounded like a pathetic lie to her ears.

     You alright, lass?” asked Humungus, coming up to her, after he had managed to pry Fishlegs of Hiccup with minimal teeth marks.

     “I’m ok…just…worried,” she answered glumly. “I’m always worried.”

     “You can stay on the boat with me, I'm well past the hero business,” he offered.

     Camicazi shook her head politely. “I do wanna be a hero, and Hiccup is a strong warrior….I’ll be fine, I just need to breathe. I just wish I could be a great hero like you and not some loser.”

     Humongous patted her shoulder sympathetically. “I didn’t become a hero overnight, you know. These kinds of things take time, effort. You’ll get there someday, trust me.”

     “Thank you,” answered Camicazi, even though what she really wanted to say was I don’t want to be a hero someday, I want to be a hero now.

     Heartless wrinkled his nose as the boat docked on the sands of Lavalout Island. This was the closest thing to a home he had ever had. He didn't care, though. Sentimentalness was one of the many reasons human beings were so weak, as Hiccup's dragon, he would be the king amongst his brothers--no, the king of ALL dragons. Yes, Heartless the king, he rather liked the sound of that. He would deal with the boy when it came to it, later.

     This is creepy,” muttered Fishlegs as they wandered on the mountain. The eyes of thousands of exterminators trapped in translucent eggs followed him; for once, he did not enjoy the attention. “Why do we even need to be here? Why couldn't we have stayed on Berk and waited for the exterminators to hatch there?”

     “Because,” drawled Hiccup with a slight snarl. “I don’t want to wait one minute more than we have to to become king. It's my destiny.”

     Fishlegs blinked, taking off his glasses and putting them back on. “You're willing to risk ALL OF US DYING so you can become king a few hours faster???”

     “Yes,” Hiccup answered curtly. “Is there a problem?”

     “Not at all,” Fishlegs groaned. Then, when Hiccup’s back was turned, he whispered to Camicazi. “I swear he’s getting more loopy by the hour. He’ll completely lose it before he’s 20.”

     Camicazi chuckled quietly. It was the first time she laughed with someone (east with someone who wasn’t also laughing at her). It felt kind of nice to be in an ingroup, but she also felt a little guilty about making fun of Hiccup. Even if he was kind of a jerk to her, it didn't feel right to be rude back.

     “Fine!” barked Hiccup angrily, kicking an exterminator egg. "If you pansies want to sit here and wait with the other babies, you can. Me and Heartless and going to explore the island to see if there's anyone who can threaten our plot.”

     Heartless grumbled a little as Hiccup sat on him like some common horse. Unlike most dragons, Exterminators can be ridden at a very young age, if the rider doesn't weigh too much. Generally, bareback dragon riding is not something that should be done by an untrained flyer, but Hiccup wasn’t one to worry himself with pesky things such as safety.

     “Should we follow him?’ asked Camicazi as Hiccup soared up into the sky, wincing each time Heartless wobbled a little.

     “Nah. If he falls off and dies, it's his own fault. Then I can sell the stone to the highest bidder.”

     “Don’t you want to be king?” asked Camicazi, who had always assumed that if Hiccup passed away tragically, Fishlegs would be the kind of boy to eagerly jump in his place.

     Fishlegs snorted. “And do all that boring political junk? No, thank you. Besides, a "king" doesn’t fit with my brand. It's too serious, too heavy. I’d rather be a prince or lord. It’s much more romantic and would help sell my shows better. I once thought about lying about being long lost royalty, but then I would have to admit I was a…” Fishlegs shuttered, spitting out the word like it was poison, “a runt.” he blinked twice, regaining his composure, “and that doesn’t really fit the brand.” He kicked an exterminator egg bitterly, causing it to roll down into the sea. Camicazi would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bad, even if it was a deadly exterminator in that egg. 

     “Is there any time you aren’t thinking about your…uh… ‘brand’? ” asked Camicazi curiously. She used to think that artists wrote songs from the heart, but nothing Fishlegs ever wrote matched his personality at all, only his prince charming, bad-boy persona.

     “No,” answered Fishlegs coldly, his eyes hard and tired, but that break in his spirit only lasted for a second before he was back to his usual cocky self. "How else do you think I became the MOST beloved bard and performer in the entire archipelago in only 3 years?”

     Camicazi grimaced, doing the mental math, “But you're only thirtee-"

     Fishlegs cut her off with a hair toss. “I know. I'm just THAT amazing.” Camicazi couldn’t imagine what it must have been like performing love songs in front of an audience since you were only ten. She felt like it must have been terrifying, then again, Fishlegs always acted like it was the best thing to ever happen to him since being born….so maybe she was wrong, or maybe even as a child, he had a thicker skin than she did.

     “What’s taking Hiccup so long?” asked Fishlegs, trying to get his mind off the shadowy bits of his career, as the two waited for their friend/boss. “It's not that big of an island; he should have scanned it out by now.”

     “I wonder if he’s in trouble?” asked Camicazi. 

     “Oh, please, if someone finds Hiccup, they are in more trouble than he is.”

     “I think I see Hiccup!” shouted Camicazi as she looked over to the top of the volcano, where two male figures seemed to be caught in a deadly dance, swords drawn. "He’s with another person and they are fighting!” We have to go help them!” She anxiously drew her sword and started to run.

     “Do we, though? Do we really?” asked Fishlegs before Camicazi grabbed his hand and dragged him up the hill. He groaned but otherwise didn’t protest.

     “I’ll push you into the volcano when we reach the top. You know that, right, crybaby?” he said half-heartedly.

     Camicazi ignored him, hoping that he wasn’t quite cruel enough to make good on that threat.

     When they reached the top of the volcano, steaming with hot gases and ready to erupt at any moment, who should they find but a very familiar face?

     “Alvin the treacherous, as I live and breathe.”