chapter one
001. her berk!

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    BERK, for Freya Balderofferson was something more than the village she was born in. It was more than the village she grew up in▬that she was forced a connection with even before she could understand what a connection was. It was more than a village with people she couldn't feel more unattached to (at least, she tried to be). It was more than some freezing cold climate that brittled her bones and▬some years▬wouldn't see the sun to melt the snow until months had passed. Berk wasn't just the village, it was the island. Freya might not like her village, but the island she stood upon, that she felt between her toes and breathed into her lungs ... that was what became Berk to her.

    An island twelve days north of hopeless, and just a few degrees south of freezing to death. An island built upon a shore of rich, icy and dangerous waters▬they lapped at the base of stone formations that had built their way up from the bottom of the sea to one day▬as some say▬reach their spot in Valhalla past the clouds. An island guarded by two Vikings to show the way for fisherman, traders and wayward warriors in search of their home, welcomed back as soon as they saw the fire within their stone warriors' mouths. From there, they'd sail through to find a mainland located solidly on the meridian of misery.

    A mainland beautiful in the day, especially at this time of year. When it wasn't covered under snow, they saw the grass upon the cliffside; pastures and pastures of grass with wonderful wildflowers▬interlocking docks that spread across the intertwining formations to the houses Freya has been told many times were nothing if they weren't sturdy. Farms, cobblestone paths, tailors huts, fisherman's hideouts and the cozy wooden cottage▬all of which have been on this island for seven generations, but every single building was new.

    Hidden under the towering Dragonscale Cliff, tucked away from the endless, brilliant green forests, lakes, creeks, caves and waterfalls▬the places Freya gazed upon each day and wished she could explore▬was the village she was supposed to be grateful to have been given. A village where the residents: the Hairy Hooligans of Berk, a population of ... great ... Vikings, were tough, ugly and sometimes even uglier with rocks for bladders, pebbles for teeth and even sturdier skulls to hide the smaller-than-average brain. Tall, burly, with thick hair, crooked grins (and sometimes eyes), and beautiful singing voices▬they loved their meat, their mead and most definitely loved their axes and hammers.

    A place that has many things: fishing, hunting and charming views of the sunsets.

    One of the things that didn't make Freya grateful for it (amongst other things) were the pests.

    In the mornings, most charming islands such as these have pests such as mice, or mosquitoes.

    But even before the sunrise, where the darkest hour settled upon the quaint village of Berk, the night became something far from peaceful. It was at this time their pests loved to raze the ground upon which this sturdy village was built.

    For they had something no other island had:

    They had dragons.

    Most people▬when the early morning night lit up with fire and screams▬would stay tucked in their homes, praying for their lives. Not them. They were Vikings, they had stubbornness issues. And while Freya hated the pests of her home, they never stopped her from being dragged out at this time, ducking past the sprinting Vikings with their weapons held up high, diving around dragons that scorched the stone of her footsteps to a place now deserted in the chaotic fray.

    No one paid attention to her as she ran. Every warriors gaze was upon the sky; upon the dragons that took their stock, their grain (and their lives)▬turning their homes into ash and their winter store into brittle rations. They had no time to watch an eager, young, fourteen-year-old girl slip around barrels of water, duck under flying bolas and nets, slide between two houses and race out into the back pastures towards one of the only people on this damned island she liked.

    "Freya! Over here!"

    Hearing her name, she gasped and rushed over. She quickly ducked in beside her best friend by the wooden fences of Silent Sven's farm. Behind her, Freya heard the screams and shouts of Vikings and dragons▬above, she heard their leathery wings soar over, carrying sheep, barrels (and anything else they could get their talons on).

    Two young friends, fourteen and fifteen, huddled shoulder-to-shoulder, hidden behind the stone well and fences. Freya glanced to Toke and breathed a little chuckle of relief.

    As one might guess, Freya was not particularly meant to be out here▬at all.

    "Welcome," said Toke, grinning at her flustered appearance. "I take getting away from your mum was effort."

    She nodded. "A lot of effort. But▬" she shrugged, proud of herself, "▬I did it."

    She should explain why she▬Freya Balderofferson▬should not be out in such a suspicious position, and it was very important that she expressed she is here under complete secrecy. In fact, if her mother even saw a glimpse of her away from where she was supposed to be, she might as well be grounded until Thawfeest, which was as close as the gods decided to end winter ... which could be weeks, months, a year ... Freya shouldn't be seen doing such messy, dirty and troublesome things as what she was about to do. As future chieftess one day (oh, don't get her started▬), she was supposed to be some role model; some specific image that visited mothers, talked happily to the fishermen, helped douse the fires set alight in the village and most certainly not be out here in hopes to fight a dragon!

    But if anyone knew Freya Balderofferson, she was determined to be anything but. She loved snowball fights, and she loved jumping off anything she wasn't meant to. Freya loved going out on adventures with her best friend Toke and swimming naked in freezing cold waters to prove her bravery to the gods (even though she did get a bad case of the fever afterwards and was bedridden for a few days).

    She wanted to be far from the image her mother insisted she had▬not that she ever had any choice in the matter. Freya was chosen at barely even three-years-old to be the girl the chief's son will one day marry; and eleven years later the two of them couldn't be further from being close. They were about as close as a Viking would be to a dragon if Freya could help it▬and she did. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third was great, don't get her wrong. He was nice, and he was smart, but the idea that Freya had no choice but to one day spend the rest of her life with him really turned her off getting to know him, let alone see him as anything other than that.

    But that wasn't why she was out here. Of course, it was part of it, but standing out here with Toke, determined to find a dragon to fight was something else entirely.

    Toke Björnson was her best friend. He was the great-nephew of Gothi, the village Elder, and his father was a prime member of the chief's counsel▬which was how Freya got to know him. They used to play outside when their fathers were in the Great Hall, trying to hit each other with sticks and pretend they were battling dragons. Toke was tall for a fifteen-year-old and he was strong▬he was going to be the perfect Viking that girls loved and boys that weren't him envied. Freya and Toke did almost everything together: from jumping off cliffs to tipping yaks to going on morning errands or fights ... and most importantly, sneaking away to train.

     See, while most Vikings of Berk spent their time to master their weapons and dragon-killing skills, Freya was ushered away to refine her needlework. She was taught to mend and create clothes, blankets and furs, shown how to cook a stew over a fire and how to clean a wound. She was taught the names of each Viking in Berk, what they did, how they did it, what they liked, what they didn't like ... Her mother showed her the art of being polite, of creating the right conversation, of being something of a jewel amongst the roughest and burliest Vikings this south of the Barbaric Archipelago. What she wasn't taught▬what she wanted to be taught▬was how to fit in.

    This made her small and it made her weak. Even at fourteen, Freya was small▬freakishly small for Berk. Most Hooligan's averaged over six feet in height at the very smallest, and Freya found herself barely making it over five. She was even smaller than her betrothed and he was considered a useless, thin Viking▬a fishbone dragons could use to pick their teeth with. If he was that, she couldn't even begin to fathom what others considered her to be. But despite all of that, she knew she was determined. She knew she was stubborn▬she knew she was smart and she knew she was passionate about her strive for independence. She knew what she wanted and she wasn't going to sit around and not achieve it. She was a Viking after all.

    And to be a Viking, one must kill a dragon.

    "How long do you think it'll be until she'll come looking?" Toke asked Freya as they watched the dragons fly over.

    "I don't know," murmured Freya. "It depends whether she comes looking herself or gets Dad to do it. Either way, I wouldn't say I have much time. I'm supposed to be either dousing houses, staying with the children or helping Gothi▬or along the lines of one of those things."

    Toke made a face, like he was trying to figure out some terrible problem. Like most Vikings, he didn't always have the smartest weapon in that thick skull of his. "Uh ..." he soon shrugged, waving it off, "we have plenty of time! I bet a dragon will come down and try and take one of these sheep▬it'll be the best opportunity for us!"

    Freya took a deep breath. Admittedly, she was nervous. Shuffling her boots against the dirt, she gripped the wood of Silent Sven's fence, peering over the edge in hope some dragon would drop down.

    She wanted more than anything to be seen as something more. Something better. Something strong, and independent▬someone who could make their own choices, who could carry an axe and not have to worry about how she looked. She wanted to have the chance to fit in ... so she could like the village instead of just the island it sat upon.

    And if she killed a dragon, she'd have everything she wanted.

    There were many dragons upon Berk. The most commonly seen always invaded their homes at this time of the morning: soaring in the skies in many bright colours.

    Deadly Nadders were basically a gigantic, scaly bird. Not many Vikings found them worthy of an axe's time: they were slender and agile, with two legs and a tail adorned with poisonous spikes. Their wide, crown-spiked heads had an eye on either side that absolutely loved to gaze at themselves through a reflection, making a Ladder an easy target if you caught them unguarded. If you didn't, then if their poisonous spikes didn't kill you, their melting, magnesium fire would instead. Freya was sure if she managed to grab the head of one of those, she would at least get noticed.

【 VIKING DRAGONS AND THEIR EGGS 】
an excerpt from: The Book of Dragons
originally written by: Bork the Bold

THE DEADLY NADDER▬The Deadly Nadder is an incredibly vain creature, but do not let its love
for its own reflection fool you! These beasts can
suddenly raise hundreds of sharp poisonous spines
and fling them with incredible accuracy. Extremely dangerous.
Kill on sight.
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STATISTICS
colours: green, yellow, blue, red and pink/purple
armed with: poisonous spikes, deadly fire
attack: ............10
speed: .........8
amour: .........16
firepower: .......18
shot limit: .......6
venom: ......16
jaw strength: .....5
stealth: .....10

    On the tougher side, but not the larger side, were Gronckles. Freya often wondered whether those stubby dragons were formed straight from the rocks of Dragonscale Cliff itself: they had scales as tough as iron, a tail-club even tougher, and a jaw that could bite a Vikings limbs clean off. Taking one of those down was sure to turn some heads.

【 VIKING DRAGONS AND THEIR EGGS 】
an excerpt from: The Book of Dragons
originally written by: Bork the Bold

THE GRONCKLE▬The Gronckle may not be one
built for speed but it is definitely built to pound and crush! These Boulder Class dragons are the toughest dragons around. Not even the strongest steel could break through their rocky hides. Extremely dangerous.
Kill on sight.
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STATISTICS
colours: green, blue, beige, brown and purple
armed with: clubbed tail, shattering jaw strength
attack: ............8
speed: .........4
amour: .........20
firepower: .......14
shot limit: .......6
venom: ......0
jaw strength: .....8
stealth: .....5

    Then, there were Hideous Zipplebacks. Those large, cunning dragons held something that no other dragon here on Berk could even dream of obtaining: two, long slender necks that connected to two, round heads. Two heads doubled the intelligence, doubled the stealth, and most importantly, doubled the power. A Zippleback could create disastrous explosions with a cloud of noxious green gas from one head, and a spark to light to from the other. Freya would be instantly famous if she managed to skewer her knife into the heart of one of those.

【 VIKING DRAGONS AND THEIR EGGS 】
an excerpt from: The Book of Dragons
originally written by: Bork the Bold

THE HIDEOUS ZIPPLEBACK▬Of all the dragons that inhabit our world,
one of the most unusual and dangerous is the Hideous Zippleback. The attack of this dragon is unlike any other. Instead of breathing fire, these dastardly creatures create vast explosions! One head breathes gas, and the other head is there ready to light it! Extremely dangerous.
Kill on sight.
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STATISTICS
colours: green, blue, or gold with spots
armed with: two heads, noxious gas explosions
attack: ............12
speed: .........10
amour: .........10
firepower: .......14
shot limit: .......6
venom: ......0
jaw strength: .....6 (3 x 2)
stealth: .....22 (11 x 2)

    Lurking from the depths of the ocean caves, stealing their fish and destroying their boats in the docks were Thunderdrums. These Tidal Class dragons are dangerous sea cave dwellers that could live both on land, sky and in the water with a round body that could flatten itself on command▬and a mouth that could expand wide enough to emit a blast of pure sound that if close enough, could take the heads clean off a Vikings' shoulders. Freya would be mad to go after one of those (which is why she dreamt she one day might).

【 VIKING DRAGONS AND THEIR EGGS 】
an excerpt from: The Book of Dragons
originally written by: Bork the Bold

THE THUNDERDRUM▬This reclusive dragon inhabits
sea caves and dark tide pools. When startled, the Thunderdrum
will produce a concussive sound wave that can kill
a man at close range. Extremely dangerous.
Kill on sight.
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STATISTICS
colours: blue, purple, green
armed with: concussive sound blasts
attack: ............12
speed: .........14
amour: .........10
firepower: .......16
shot limit: .......6
venom: ......0
jaw strength: .....7
stealth: .....8

    At the top of the list of some of the most dangerous, most furious, and most fiery dragons was the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings went after those slender beasts. They had scales that were coated in a thin layer of gel that▬on command▬gave them the ability to set themselves on fire. They had an extensive shot limit, over-bite of sharp teeth and deadly-sharp talons ... they were the dragon Freya would absolutely dream of defeating▬and if she somehow managed to convince her mother in a year time to let her into Dragon Training, she might just get the chance.

    Until then, Freya had to somehow convince her she could.

    And she was nervous.

    Because even if she's learnt how to wield a weapon, even if she had Toke beside her, Freya's axe was still smaller than everyone else's. Her fingers were still small, and her arms and legs were still short. She was still Freya, and she was scared that Freya was going to mess all of this up.

【 VIKING DRAGONS AND THEIR EGGS 】
an excerpt from: The Book of Dragons
originally written by: Bork the Bold

THE MONSTROUS NIGHTMARE▬No dragon is more ferocious than the Monstrous Nightmare. These beasts mouths are so wide, they can swallow a Viking whole! The Nightmare also has a nasty habit of setting itself on fire. Extremely dangerous.
Kill on sight.
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STATISTICS
colours: red, pink/yellow, green
armed with: self-immolation, anger issues
attack: ............15
speed: .........16
amour: .........12
firepower: .......15
shot limit: .......10
venom: ......5 (when tiny tooth)
jaw strength: .....6
stealth: .....9

    Freya watched a group of Nadders hoard some barrels of fresh fish, not expected the weighted net to be thrown on top of them. One of them got spooked and escaped in the nick of time. It flew over the roofs and past the bolas, twisting midair with an alarmed squawk▬all the way over to the back plains. Both Freya and Toke ducked, careful not to be seen as it landed in Sven's pastures, shaking off its scare. It glanced around; a Nadder of pale green scales, before deciding it was safe enough to preen its wings.

    Toke glanced at Freya and she pursed her lips. She held her axe in her right hand▬she noticed how small it was compared to her friend's. "This is good," he told her and she met his gaze. He was older than her, and bigger, and always held an air about him that made it feel like he had more experience; that he knew what he was doing▬that he was someone to listen to and look up to. And Freya did. She looked up to Toke like an older brother. "Nadder's are smaller than most dragons, right?" he didn't seem sure, but Freya believed him. "It would be a good dragon to start off with."

    But the thing was, not even Toke has ever killed a dragon before. Neither of them have. That was why they were here: because they both had something to prove.

    Freya twisted her grip on her axe handle. She took a deep breath. Neither of them made a move. Toke just stared at the dragon, as if not certain what the best move could be. "Okay..." he decided to say. "It's okay▬we can do this. It'll be easy. Just one dragon and that's it, we'll be the best dragon killing teens in all of Berk." Her best friend tried to reassure both of them, his long legs arched like pointed roofs as he crouched. They both focused on the very sharp spikes on the Nadder's tail. "if we wait any longer, that'll be it, we'll be taken back."

    "Back to putting out fires..." murmured Freya in agreement.

    She gritted her teeth, determined. She reached out and grabbed the wood of the perimeter fence. Her thick furs secured around her arms brushed against the rough surface as her fingers tightened, testing whether the Nadder was distracted enough▬it was only a few feet away ... close enough to charge.

    Toke noticed her▬he noticed the grit of her teeth and the clench of her fingers. And deep down, he admitted that for him, it was an easy decision to step back (and let out a breath of relief). "Just go on," he told her, nodding to the dragon in the field. "You can do it."

    She met his gaze, and she was grateful. Her eyes set back onto the Deadly Nadder who was yet to notice they were there. Freya nodded to herself▬it was now or never. And so she took the shot. She climbed up and over the fence. Landing in a silent crouch on the other side, she paused for a moment to check whether the beast had heard her.

    He didn't stop preening his wings. Everything looked good.

    Freya found herself glancing back at Toke. If she killed this dragon, she had it▬she would have exactly what she wanted ... and yet, she was hesitating, because she was scared. She was terrified; not of the dragon, not of what might go wrong, but what being able to do this tonight meant. She shrugged, to which he replied with miming something that seemed to look like bringing her axe on what might be the Deadly Nadder's tail. She wasn't sure, because whatever explosion of blood he was making, could be anything.

    She turned back around and focused on the tail. If she got rid of that tail, the Nadder would have one less thing to defend itself with. (That's if she could even get close to its tail).

    Freya heaved her axe and started. She rushed across the dark pasture under the light of bright red flames. The Nadder didn't notice▬or maybe it didn't think she was much of a threat. Her heart was racing in her chest▬pounding against her ribcage so much it hurt. This is it, she told herself, I'm going to kill a dragon▬

    Not even halfway, a terrible sound stopped her.

    A shriek grew in the sky▬hidden amongst the dark clouds and the velvet black heavens. It grew louder and louder ... both Freya and Toke knew that sound deep in their bones; they knew how much to fear it.

    Even the Deadly Nadder was startled. As the shrieks doubled▬louder and louder they grew▬he flared his wings and roared, taking off before Freya could get any closer.

    But she didn't notice. She was hitting the grass, covering her head▬but even then, she had to peak upwards to try and see where it was: the ultimate prize; the dragon no one has ever seen. A terrifying, bloodthirsty, horrific dragon they all called the▬

    "NIGHT FURY!" the dreaded name erupted from the village. "GET DOWN!"

    Toke ducked in close to the fence. Freya hid amongst the grass, breath hitched as the watchtower by the east side of the village exploded in a sheer blast of purple. It shattered from the inside▬the catapult, the sides ... piercing apart in a ferocious burst of flame that sent the most fearless Vikings leaping off the edge for their very lives.

    The Night Fury ... a dragon that never stole food, never showed itself and never▬ever▬missed.

【 VIKING DRAGONS AND THEIR EGGS 】
an excerpt from: The Book of Dragons
originally written by: Bork the Bold

THE NIGHT FURY▬The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. NEVER engage this dragon.
Your only chance: hide and pray it does not
find you.
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STATISTICS
colours: as black as the night
armed with: lightning and death
attack: ............unknown
speed: .........unknown
amour: .........unknown
firepower: .......unknown
shot limit: .......unknown
venom: ......unknown
jaw strength: .....unknown
stealth: .....unknown

    Freya jumped when another explosion rocketed the cliffs. The watchtower crumbled amongst crackling flames.

    Not one Viking has ever killed a Night Fury here on Berk▬or even seen one to live to tell the tale. It was a mystery, a ghost, a fable ... a nightmare.

    The one dragon not even Freya was insane enough to try and encounter.

    When she was sure the Night Fury had disappeared off back into the clouds, she glanced over to see where her Deadly Nadder went. When she noticed there was nothing there▬not even a scale left amongst the grass, Freya slumped. She sighed, her head falling into her arms.

    Just like that, she had her chance.

    And just like that, she lost it.

    Freya clenched her eyes shut, frustrated before glancing back to see how Toke had ended up.

    Her stomach dropped to see a very disappointed (and very angry) blonde teen standing behind Toke, arms crossed and her hip jotted out. Freya let her head fall to the grass again.

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    ASTRID Hofferson grated on Freya sometimes.

    She was everything she wanted to be: fierce, intimidating, independent, tall, beautiful, strong ... she was the embodiment of the perfect warrior Viking. While Freya was stuck in a peaceful lifestyle, Astrid was swimming in glory within a violent one. With her braided blonde hair, her piercing ice-blue eyes, her fierce double-bladed axe, Astrid Hofferson towered over Freya with an air of entitlement: bossy, blunt and most annoyingly, her babysitter.

    She wasn't, but she might as well be. Whenever Freya got into trouble, whenever she did something she wasn't meant to, it was always Astrid that found her in the middle of it. It was like she had the scent of a hound when it came to Freya going against her mothers wishes, sniffing her out before she got too far into completely losing all privileges forever.

    She was silent, arms crossed and glowering at her feet that took the trek back towards the plaza on scorched cobblestone. She heard Astrid argue with Toke beside her:

    "Are you crazy?! Oh, wait, don't answer that, obviously you are because you just watched her take on a full-grown dragon!"

    "It's what we do!"

    "You're so lucky I caught you▬" Astrid pointed at his chest, fuming, "▬how do you think Freya's mother will react when she sees her precious baby going out and getting herself killed? How do you think the chief will react when Hiccup's betrothed can't be his betrothed anymore because she's dead?!"

    "I'm right here," argued Freya weakly, hands clenched. Astrid glanced at her. "And I could've taken on that Nadder just fine! Toke's been training me."

    Wrong thing to say. Freya watched Toke wince as Astrid set her steely gaze back on him. "Seriously?"

    And just like that, they flung into another explosive argument that Freya had learnt best to tune out. She rolled her eyes at every back and forth. Astrid was one of Toke's other friends. The Vikings his age that always treated Freya like she was some sort of green child. Even just one year older, it was like they thought she needed protecting like everyone else because she was younger and smaller. Because she didn't grow up like they did. They teased her about having to one day be married to Hiccup, and teased her for being even smaller ("A perfect match made in Valhalla," Snotlout would always say). Yet they let her hang out with them, and eat with them in the Great Hall▬maybe because Toke might just tackle them to the ground if they didn't.

    But that wasn't how Freya met Astrid. She's known her for even longer. Their mothers were close, so the two girls basically grew up in each other's houses. Freya felt like she had gained an annoying, bossy older sister who hated having her forced onto her as some task to always look after. Begrudgingly, it made one hold the other in high regard and care▬but always to themselves. Neither one would admit they actually (sort of) liked the others company. Let alone express it.

    They made it back to where Freya was supposed to have been in the first place. Most of the raid had settled for now, and the group of Vikings Freya spent most of her time around▬reluctantly▬now all sat, watching the last moments of destruction.

    Other than Astrid and Toke, there was Fishlegs Ingerman; a chubby boy with mousy hair, wide, frantic eyes and little-to-none chin. He knew almost everything there is to know about dragons (and never stopped talking about it). In comparison to everyone else in their friend group, he was the one who stood out the most▬and it wasn't his potbelly, or his squeaky whimpers whenever there was a dragon close. He wasn't particularly violent nor was he a well-trained warrior-to-be. The only weapon he had on him was a miniature bludgeon that couldn't even knock out a Terrible Terror if he put all of his force into it.

    Sitting beside him was Snotface Snotlout Jorgenson. He was the would-be, could-be, in everything. He could've been next-in-line for chief, except his father was the second-born. He could be the next prime warrior, except his aim was always a little too far to the right. He could be the perfect Viking, except whenever Toke stood next to him, he was always in his shadow▬and that made him irritable to be around. Snotlout was always trying to best himself, trying to boast and to make terrible, mean jokes to gather laughs. He was always trying to make up for something▬whether it be popularity, height, strength ... other things ... either way, Freya wouldn't be the only one who wanted to punch his pig-nose on multiple occasions.

    The last of their misfit group were the troublemakers. Every friend group had to have at least one, they managed to get two. The Twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston. Both blonde, both lanky, both hunched over with snickers as they watched someone fall victim to their many (dangerous) pranks. If they weren't arguing with each other, they were making dumb comments, and if they weren't doing that, then Freya was worried some pile of fish might just drop down onto her head from above.

    It was Tuffnut that noticed them first. And he grinned a mischievous grin that immediately made Freya check the foundations of the house above. "The lost child has been found!"

    "Hey, Astrid," snickered Ruffnut, "what's it like being a babysitter?"

    Astrid didn't say anything. She just stormed up and socked Ruff on the shoulder, making her fall face-first onto the cobblestone. Her brother laughed at her misfortune, not even making a move to help her back up.

    "Hey," said Toke in a voice that seemed unsure on whether he was defending Astrid or defending Freya, "no one's babysitting anyone. I mean, Freya▬"

    "Don't say▬" Freya sent him a short scowl, "▬'Freya's a strong, independent Viking capable of looking after herself'."

    Toke frowned at her. He quickly crossed his arms, scoffing out an indignant, "I▬I wasn't going to say that."

    Astrid gave him a look over her shoulder, "What were you going to say, then?"

    He stood there for a second. He stumbled on his words, giving them a sheepish grin before mumbling, "Freya's a strong, independent Viking capable of looking after herself..."

    Freya rolled her eyes, "Ugh," and marched over to the boulder in the back▬away from the others. She sat down on it and glared at her axe. He stupid, light, small axe▬just like her.

    "It's okay, Freya," Snotlout spoke, leaning back to gaze at her, "I think your very capable."

     She just glowered back at him.

     It was only then that she noticed the absolute destruction of the plaza. And it wasn't from dragons. Freya gaped, sitting up to peer down the wooden walks that led to the docks▬they were broken, shattered and scattered in flames ... all from the flaming watch tower that had settled at the bottom.

    Even before she saw him, she knew exactly who's name was written all over this.

   Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third stood in front of the destruction, hunched up and frozen in a winced. Auburn-haired, freckle-faced and thin, he stood only half the size of his gigantic father: the chief, Stoick the Vast. Seven-feet-tall with a fiery beard just as big, he glowered down at his son who pursed his lips and peered back up, sheepish under low-hanging hair. He rocked back and forth on his toes, awkward to notice all the heaving, furious Vikings watching.

    That was the person she was going to have to one day marry.

    Hiccup chewed on his words. But he couldn't keep it in. Not meeting his father's gaze, he blurted out: "O▬Okay, but I hit a Night Fury▬ah!" He struggled as Stoick the Vast gripped the scruff of his fur vest, tugging him up so his feet dangled as he dragged him down the cobblestone path. Hiccup still argued: "It's not like the last few times, Dad! I mean I really▬actually▬hit it! You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot. It went down just off Raven Point. Let's get a search party out there▬"

    "Stop!"

    At his shout, Hiccup went quiet. He was set back down onto his own two feet, leaning away from his father who clenched his hands, taking a deep breath before adding in a softer, more forgiving tone, "Just ... stop. Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed!"

    Freya tried not to look as she heard Hiccup be chastised. She heard the Twins snicker as they mocked him, Snotlout jeer softly with them and Astrid scoff under her breath, but she said nothing, just awkwardly fiddling with the leather of her weapon hilt.

     Hiccup glanced around at the villagers listening. He muttered, "Well ... between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?"

    The villagers of Berk grumbled amongst each other, sharing looks and rubbing their stomachs▬all of them a little self-conscious about their heavy meat diet.

    Chief Stoick wasn't happy. "This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" he snapped. He soon sighed, shaking his head at his son who twiddled his thumbs, bright red at the ears. "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

    Stumbling on his words, Hiccup tried to defend himself. He waved his arms, "I▬I▬I▬I can't stop myself!" he said. "I see a dragon and I have to just▬" he mimicked punching something, "▬kill it, you know? I▬it's ... who I am, Dad..."

    "Oh ..." his father rubbed his brows, a mixture of exasperation and exhaustion flowing out in a breathy sigh, "you're many things, Hiccup. But a dragon killer is not one of them." Hiccup slumped, his gaze shooting down to the ash on the cobblestone at his feet. "Get back to the house." He raised his voice to Gobber the Belch standing nearby. "Make sure he gets there! I have his mess to clean up..."

    Freya pretend to find the slight chip in her axe handle very interesting as Hiccup was led past the group of them down the pathway. As her friends laughed and they jeered, she pursed her lips and set her jaw, refusing to make it seem like she watched him go out of the corner of her eye. 

    "I've never seen anyone mess up that badly," Snotlout Jorgenson sneered right in his cousin's face and Hiccup rolled his eyes. He gestured to the destruction surrounding them with a delightful gleam at the misfortune, "That helped!"

    "Thank you," replied Hiccup sarcastically. He matched his cousins nod, mocking him. "Thank you so much▬I was trying, so..."

    His eyes caught the side stare of Freya Balderofferson and immediately, she hitched her breath and looked away, stiff and rigid. Hiccup sighed and rolled his eyes at her, too▬wondering how much more the Gods could hate him. Once he couldn't see her, though, her gaze followed him as he went. While Snotlout hit the ground at Gobber's shove, and the Twins laughed in his face. While Astrid crossed her arms and muttered how she thought Hiccup couldn't get any more useless to Toke, the rigid gaze of Freya turned soft▬her brows lifted as she felt a tug in her chest; one that understood the way Hiccup Haddock's shoulders slouched in the dawn. 

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a/n: *sighs* here we go again ...

you'd think I'd be sick of this series by now. you'd think I'd run dry of ideas? you'd think I'd run out of ways to introduce hiccup's monologue and describe everything that happens in this scene differently for the third time - apparently not.

I am going to say this now, and right now. freya's dragon is a deadly nadder. I love deadly nadders. this is my fourth httyd dragon book now I think I earn the right to have two oc's that train a deadly nadder - I dESERVE IT. not to toot my own horn, but my account is literally a goody bag for httyd hiccup x oc fics at this stage. and I am literally going to pay the price for it I know. I am literally going to burn out on one of them, I know. I deserve to do what I want. I deserve to have the cliche 'omg they were betrothed at a young age' plot and make it interesting and better I dESERve IT.

besides freya literally screams deadly nadder energy like no other dragon makes sense for her. 

and toke gets a thunderdrum. that makes up for it. he gets the different dragon. 

I get to write a new deadly nadder/oc bond because DEADLY NADDERS >>>>>

I do not care if you find that boring or you don't like it. I. deserve. it. 

anyway estrid and freya would be such buddies buddies its true. 

hiccup gets all the girls on my account its true.

and I love u guys, obviously.

toke gives me real kristoff vibes I don't know how I managed that or how he even has those vibes it wasn't planned but he does. 

ps her and hiccup literally parallel each other in this chapter :) heheh

(viking dragons and their eggs is from the books hehehe)