Hiccup hesitated for a brief mont before flashing an awkward grin at Lucian. "Heh... uh, so.. can you do a favor? Just, you know, man the fort for now? I really need to do sothing... hehehe... Thanks!" Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his bolas launcher and dashed out the door.
A pair of Vikings imdiately noticed him making a run for it.
"Hiccup, where are you going?!" one of them shouted.
"Co back here!" another barked.
"Yeah, I know! Be right back!" Hiccup called over his shoulder, disappearing into the chaos.
Lucian exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do you an, ’man the fort’? I don’t even know how things work around here..."
Before he could process the situation further, a loud voice called from outside.
"Hey! Yohoo! We need weapons over here!"
Lucian sighed again, shaking his head. "Guess that’s my job now."
He moved behind the counter, eyes scanning the neatly arranged weapons. Soon, a Viking rushed up, panting.
"Give an axe!"
Lucian grabbed a hefty battle axe and tossed it toward the warrior, who caught it with practiced ease before running back into battle.
Another Viking stepped forward. "Spear!"
Lucian picked out a well-balanced spear and tossed it over. The Viking twirled it in his grip before dashing back into the fray.
Soon, more warriors ca rushing in, shouting their weapon of choice.
"Sword!"
"Hamr!"
"Shield and mace!"
Lucian moved swiftly, tossing each weapon to its rightful owner without missing a beat. The clang of steel and the roars of dragons echoed outside as the Vikings fought back with renewed vigor.
Amid the chaos, Lucian muttered to himself. "So this is how things work here... at least it keeps busy."
Just as he was about to catch his breath, another Viking stumbled in. "Hey! We’re running low on bolas! Got any left?"
Lucian glanced around before spotting a crate filled with the weighted throwing weapons. He kicked it open and tossed a few to the Viking, who nodded in thanks before hurrying off.
Lucian barely had a mont to rest before a deafening roar shook the air. His head snapped up just in ti to see a Monstrous Nightmare crash down near the fort, its massive wings sending debris flying. Flas erupted from its mouth, setting nearby structures ablaze.
The Vikings outside turned their attention to the beast, weapons raised.
"Hold the line!" one of them shouted.
But the Nightmare was relentless. It slashed through warriors with its claws, sending them sprawling, and its fire-breath kept them from getting close. Even with their weapons, they were struggling.
Lucian’s gaze darted to the side, where a group of young teenagers—most too young for battle—were desperately trying to put out the spreading fire. Ard with buckets of water and makeshift tools, they worked in a panic, dousing flas before they could spread further.
Then, the dragon noticed them.
Its head jerked toward the teens, its eyes narrowing. With a deep growl, it reared back before lunging forward, flas curling at its jaws.
"Move!" one of the girls scread as the group scattered.
But one of them—a blonde-haired girl—was too slow. The dragon’s fiery breath exploded near her, sending her flying backward. She hit the ground hard, groaning in pain.
As the dragon stomped forward, smoke billowing from its nostrils, it lood over her. The girl tried to push herself up, but her limbs shook.
The Nightmare roared, its jaws opening wide as it lunged down to finish her off.
Lucian’s eyes hardened.
Without hesitation, he sprinted forward. Mid-run, his gaze locked onto a wooden cart near the fort—its contents rattling from the earlier chaos. Inside was a massive hamr.
Lucian’s mind worked in an instant.
That’ll do.
As he ran, he kicked the cart’s wheel. The sudden force tipped it, sending the hamr flying up into the air.
Lucian caught it mid-fall.
Gripping the handle tightly, he swung his arm back; then with all his strength, he hurled the war hamr straight at the Nightmare’s head.
The war hamr spun through the air, whistling as it cut through the wind before slamming into the Monstrous Nightmare’s head.
CRACK!
The impact sent the dragon stumbling back, shaking its head violently. It let out a guttural snarl, montarily disoriented. Taking the chance, Lucian darted forward, grabbing a fallen axe from the ground. His grip tightened as he assessed the beast.
The Nightmare shook off its daze and locked eyes with him. Its lips curled back, revealing jagged fangs as fire ignited along its scales, its body glowing like molten rock. It let out a furious roar, wings flaring wide.
It was pissed.
Lucian exhaled, his body tensing as he readied himself. No hesitation. No fear. Just like old tis, but now it was different—this was a dragon he was facing.
The dragon lunged.
Lucian sidestepped, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws. He twisted his body, bringing the axe down toward its wing, but the dragon reared back, dodging the strike. It retaliated with a sweeping tail, aiming to knock him off his feet.
Lucian jumped, flipping over the incoming attack, landing in a roll.
The Nightmare snarled and reared back, inhaling deeply. Lucian’s eyes flickered to its throat—fire was coming.
In a split second, he bolted toward the fallen hamr, grabbing it as the dragon unleashed a torrent of flas.
BOOM!
Lucian threw himself sideways, barely avoiding the scorching fire. Heat licked at his skin, but he didn’t slow down. The dragon snapped its jaws again, trying to grab him, but Lucian ducked under and—
CRACK!
He swung the hamr up, slamming it into the dragon’s jaw. The Nightmare screeched, recoiling from the force.
Lucian didn’t stop. He charged forward, twisting his body as he brought the hamr down in a crushing arc—
BOOM!!
Right onto the dragon’s flaming head.
The impact sent a shockwave through the air. The Monstrous Nightmare let out a strangled roar as it collapsed, its body slamming into the ground. Its wings twitched, its tail thumped against the dirt—then, finally, it went still.
Lucian stood over it, hamr in hand, breathing hard.
The battlefield was silent for a mont.
Then—
"By Odin’s beard..." One of the Vikings muttered in disbelief.
More murmurs followed. The Vikings who had been struggling against the dragon just monts ago were now staring at Lucian with wide eyes.
One of them finally spoke up, voice filled with awe.
"Who in Thor’s na... is this guy?
Amidst the clamor of awe and villagers shouting, a sudden, shrill cry cut through the din. Heads turned towards the hill, where a Monstrous Nightmare was in pursuit of a lone figure.
Stoick’s eyes widened in alarm. Hiccup.
Without a mont’s hesitation, he surged forward, his powerful fra cutting through the battlefield. Hiccup, barely a step ahead of the Nightmare, darted behind a wooden torch pole, pressing himself against it as scorching flas curled around the edges. His breath ca in frantic gasps as he risked a glance around the post—only to find the beast’s glowing eyes locked onto him, jaws snapping hungrily.
The Nightmare lunged.
Stoick arrived just in ti. With a roar, he threw a punch that landed squarely against the dragon’s snout, sending it reeling back. The beast growled, gathering itself to retaliate, but when it attempted to breathe fire, only a few weak dribbles of flaming liquid sputtered forth. It had exhausted its shots.
"You’re all out," Stoick said gruffly, stepping forward. "Raahh"
The Nightmare hesitated for a brief mont before beating its wings and fleeing into the night.
Just as Stoick turned to check on his son, disaster struck again. The torch pole, weakened by the flas, cracked and toppled over, sending the burning torch tumbling down the village paths. It rolled uncontrollably, setting carts, thatched roofs, and supplies ablaze in its wake.
Hiccup winced. "Sorry, Dad."
The villagers barely had ti to react before the flaming torch rolled straight into the netted Nadders Stoick had captured earlier. The fire made quick work of the ropes, freeing the dragons. With loud screeches, they took flight, seizing whatever food and livestock they could carry before vanishing into the night. The raid was over.
And now, the entire village turned its gaze toward Hiccup.
The silence was deafening. Hundreds of eyes bore into the scrawny boy, a mix of exasperation, disbelief, and frustration. Even Lucian, standing among the gathered warriors, couldn’t help but note the sheer absurdity of the situation.
Hiccup, ever the optimist, raised a finger. "Okay, but—I hit a Night Fury."
The statent only deepened the silence. Then, without another word, Stoick seized Hiccup by the back of his tunic and began dragging him away, his face a storm of barely restrained fury.
"It’s not like the last few tis, Dad!" Hiccup protested, his feet barely touching the ground as he was hauled off. "I an it! I actually hit one! You guys were busy, and I had a clear shot! It went down, just off Raven Point! We should send out a search party before it—"
"STOP!" Stoick’s voice thundered, making even the most hardened warriors flinch. He dropped Hiccup in front of him and took a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists. "Every ti you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter’s almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!"
Hiccup, never one to back down from a perfectly tid quip, muttered, "Between you and , the village could do with a little less feeding, don’t ya think?"
A distant Viking, who had been rubbing his stomach absentmindedly, froze and scowled.
Stoick, however, was far from amused. "This isn’t a joke, Hiccup! Why can’t you follow the simplest orders?"
"I can’t stop myself! I see a dragon, and I have to just... kill it, you know? It’s who I am, Dad!"
Stoick exhaled sharply, his frustration simring to the surface. "You are many things, Hiccup. But a dragon killer is not one of them. Get back to the house."
Turning to Gobber, Stoick’s voice hardened. "Make sure he gets there. I have his ss to clean up."
As Gobber took Hiccup’s arm and led him away, the other young Vikings watched with varying degrees of amusent.
Tuffnut leaned toward Snotlout. "Quite the performance."
Snotlout smirked. "I’ve never seen anyone ss up that badly. That helped."
"Thank you, thank you," Hiccup muttered dryly. "I was trying. But I really did hit one."
Lucian, who had been watching the entire ordeal unfold, found himself the subject of Stoick’s attention. The village chief studied him for a mont, then gave a firm nod. "Co with us to the hall."
Lucian nodded in return, following Stoick toward ad Hall, where the eting was set to take place.
_____
Inside ad Hall, the gathered warriors muttered among themselves, their expressions grim as Stoick placed his knife on the map at the center of the table.
"Either we finish them, or they’ll finish us!" Stoick declared. "It’s the only way we’ll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They’ll find another ho! One more search. Before the ice sets in."
A murmur of unease rippled through the crowd. One Viking shifted uncomfortably. "Those ships never co back."
"We’re Vikings!" Stoick snapped. "It’s an occupational hazard! Now, who’s with ?"
"Today’s not good for ," another Viking mumbled. "I’ve gotta do my axe returns."
Stoick exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to contain his frustration. "Alright. Those who stay will look after Hiccup."
"To the ships!" Phlegma called, rallying those willing to go.
Spitelout pounded his chest. "I’m with you, Stoick!"
"That’s more like it," Stoick said, nodding in approval.
Gobber, however, sighed dramatically. "Right, I’ll pack my undies."
"No," Stoick countered. "I need you to stay and train so new recruits."
Gobber scoffed. "Oh, perfect. And while I’m busy, Hiccup can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor-sharp blades, lots of ti to himself—what could possibly go wrong?"
Stoick sighed, rubbing his temple. "What am I going to do with him, Gobber?"
Gobber shrugged. "Put him in training with the others."
Stoick shook his head. "No, I’m serious."
"So am I."
The back-and-forth between the two n continued, and Lucian took the mont to observe. He had heard enough to understand the situation—Hiccup was an outcast among his own people, struggling under the weight of his father’s expectations. It was sothing Lucian understood all too well.
As Stoick continued his lant, Lucian finally let out a quiet cough. The sudden noise cut through the air, and both Stoick and Gobber turned towards him. He stood at the corner, arms folded, his expression unreadable.
Gobber blinked in realization. "Well, look at that. I’d say you’ve got sothing else to deal with, Stoick. I’ll be heading out now."
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