Slight Warning: The true meaning of Fan-fiction comes to life from here on out. Anything outside of all the releases of HTTYD (1&2), Dragons (all series), and RTTE are fiction. Longer chapter.

You didn't want to go. You didn't want to go meet a boy. You didn't want to go meet the Chief's boy. You didn't want to meet the Chief's boy who was known to always get himself into trouble and almost killing himself.

You didn't want to meet the boy who wasn't a viking.

Your parents dragged you to meet the boy because they thought you needed a playmate since neither of you did anyways. They took the chance of pairing up you two.

The problem was; you didn't want to socialize with anyone.

And that included a talking fish bone.

"Gobber, where is Stoick?" your mom had asked.

"Ah," he waved in a direction, "he had to do an errand, but I have his boy with me right now."

Your mother pushed you to the front of her when a scrawny boy was also pushed in front of Gobber. You struggled because you didn't want to do any of this.

"[Name], be nice and talk to the boy," your mother commanded.

"Hi," you said simply and that's all you plan to say. You don't even try making eye contact with him.

"Uh, hi," he stammered.

There was an awkward silence before you heard your mother and Gobber start to chitchat.

"So, what's your name?" he asked.

"[Name]," you answered.

"Oh," he didn't ask any more questions.

You took a glance at him. "What's yours?"

"My name's Hiccup," he smiled cheekily.

You couldn't help but adore his gaped smile.

~.~.~

It was dark, but oddly warm. You realized you were waking up. You don't even remember falling asleep. You remember falling from Toothless when you were hit...

So, then, why am I so comfortable?

You suddenly felt itchy as your senses started to wake up. You felt soft blades brush against your skin. You groaned as you felt a headache to start. You pushed your hand to grab your head in pain. You blinked your eye trying adjust to the lighting. Once your eyes adjusted, you took in your surroundings. It seemed to be early morning; you can tell by the morning breeze. The area looked oddly familiar.

Berk...

Home...

Your mind screamed at you, but you didn't want to confirm it just yet. You got up and pushed yourself up onto your feet while dusting yourself. As you were dusting yourself, you noticed you were just lying next to a very huge tree. The bark was thick but its branches were covered in many leaves.

Berk doesn't have thick trees like these.

You gently touched the bark of the tree. Once your fingers grazed it, a sudden flash of nausea passed you. You released your touch to use the same hand to grip your head.

Whoa...you thought, Did I just see Hiccup?

When he was seven?

You stared at the tree and took a chance at touching it again. You released a breath (one you didn't realized you were holding) and began climbing to the top. You had an excellent view of the little world in front of you.

This was definitely Berk, but it was different in a way, only a little bit. Something wasn't right, and it bugged you. You climbed down the tree smoothly using your skills you have developed over the years. You landed on your feet with your knees bent. You stood up straighter and took one last glance at the enormous tree before you, finding it out of place. This tree seemed to shine with a certain brightness compared to the other trees. There was certainly something special about this tree.

I have to tell Hiccup about it.

You began walking towards where you knew the village was, but once you thought of Hiccup, you froze. Hiccup could be at Dragon's Edge right now, like where you're suppose to be. None of it made sense. You were suppose to crash after the fall and possibly die from it, so why did it seem everything was okay? Was it all a dream? It could explain why you suddenly woke up in the forest with no one or a thing in sight. You did remember, though, a sudden flash before you hit the ground in your dream. It was even weirder when you heard a familiar voice call your name.

You grasped your head when a sudden headache started to occur. It seemed the more you thought about it, you would get a head rush. You decided to leave it be and head over to the village.

Okay, something is wrong here.

When you got to the outskirts of the village, you immediately recognized it as it was during the old times, as in before the dragons moved in. You looked around again. Yes, the village looked like as it was during the struggling times. You panicked and ran back into the forest. You didn't liked those times. It created horrible memories to you and to those you loved. It was battle for a worthless reason. It was war. You grasped your head in an attempt to quiet your demons.

You stopped. A child crying like sound stopped you in your tracks. It got louder as you slowly approached the distressed noise with caution. You stepped over vines and ducked under low branches. You found yourself staring at a boy's back. He whelped with tears falling down his slightly chubby face. You noticed he was a wee little thing. Such a small child shouldn't be roaming the woods or he would get hurt. You always had a weak spot for children and others always commented that you would be a great mother, but you would always dismiss it. Children are so innocent, you reasoned, they need to be protected from those that harm them physically or mentally.

The boy started clutching onto his knee in pain. You looked to see his bottoms were torn were the knee was at and started to ooze out with blood. You needed to help him.

"Are you okay?" You started.

The boy jump in a startle. His cries went silent immediately. He looked at you but then spun back around to avoid any eye contact with you. For a moment, when he looked at you, you could've sworn those stormy eyes were familiar.

He sniffed and wiped his eyes away. It looked like he didn't want you or anyone to see him crying. "Yeah," he said stubbornly, "I don't know what you are talking about."

You started understanding it might be a child's belief to be stubborn and not cry in front of anyone. You took a moment to ask, "Why won't you look at me?"

"I don't understand why I should!" He shouted. He immediately slouched in regret.

You sighed, "That wasn't very nice."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I was just training but then I got lost and tripped and-" he didn't finish because he started to cry again.

You walked over to the boy and crouched to his eye level. He looked downwards towards the ground beneath him. You studied his knee. It wasn't horribly scratched but a bit of blood oozed out, enough to cause a possible infection. You looked back up at the source of the continuous crying.

"May I take care of your knee?" You asked gently.

The boy nodded his head as he quiet his sobs.

"Come on, I think I hear a stream near by." You picked him up in your arms and he hugged your neck, burring his head on your shoulders.

"How old are you?" You mentally kept thinking of simple questions for him to keep his mind off of his pain.

"I am about to be seven," he mumbled.

"Are you excited?" You stepped over a rock as you smiled to his response.

He hummed and you felt him nod his head against your shoulder.

You finally found a stream and sat him down on a grassy area. You ripped off a part of your tunic shirt. You had a long tunic shirt but now it looked like a regular sized instead. You wet the cloth in the stream and pressed gently to his wound. He hissed but didn't pull away.

"You're brave for training on your own," you commented.

"I am trying to get better."

"At what?" You washed off the cloth to get rid of the blood. You continued to dab.

"To become a viking." The boy proudly puffed his chest.

Why does this sound oddly familiar?

You wrapped the cloth and tied it after rewashing it in the stream again.

"There, all better," You smiled. Your smile flattered when you saw his gaze continued to be downcast. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer.

"You know," you started, "I'm thinking that your knee isn't the only thing that hurts."

"What do you mean?" he continues to look down.

"I'm saying," you sat next to him, "your feelings are hurt, correct?"

He nods.

"It's okay to cry," you whispered.

He nods once more, "Okay."

"So, what's wrong?"

"My dad doesn't think of me as a viking neither does anyone else," he grunted.

You hummed, "Well, just prove them wrong. Don't listen to them. You know what I see?" He looked up to you and shook his head. His brown hair moved with it. "I see someone who will be legendary."

When you said that, he smiled a cheesy grin. A gap in between his teeth complemented his childish features. You looked at his adorable smile.

That when everything clicked.

"There's that smile," you smiled with him. "So, what's your name?"

"My name's Hiccup."

Word Count: 1567

Status: Unedited