Bravely Training Dragons!-Chapter 2

Hiccup's P.O.V

Within moments I am like-

WHAM!

I push my wheeled contraption through a wall of clustered Vikings and Scotsmen. He weaves through the on-going mayhem, as fast as my legs can carry me.

A random Viking that I can't identify shouts after me."Hiccup, where are you going?!"

Another shouts, "Come back here!"

"I know. Be right back!" I shout back, after them.

On the plain below, the Nadders have cornered the house-full of sheep. They close in, ready to spring upon them. Stoick suddenly appears, hurling fishing nets over them. The Nadders are caught. Stoick and his men rush in. A Nadder blasts a hole through its net. Stoick leaps onto it, his thick arms around its head, forcing its jaws shut.

"Mind yourselves! The devils still have some juice in them." He bellows the order.

Whereas, on the plain above I have reached a cliff overlooking the smoking catapult and drop the handles to the ground. I crank several levers, unfolding and then cocking the bowed arms of my contraption. I drop a bola onto a chamber and then pivot the weapon on a gimbal head toward the dark sky. I listen, with my eye pressed to the scope, hand poised on trigger. I hear the Night Fury approaching... and turn my aim to the defence tower. It closes in for the final, completely camouflaged in the night.

"Come on. Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at." I mumble to myself, my anticipation mixing with excitement and nerves.

KABLAM!

The tower topples. The blast of fire illuminates the dragon for a split second. I take this as my chance to pull the trigger.

KERTHUNK!

The flexed arms snap forward, springing the weapon off the ground. The bola disappears into the sky, followed by a loud 'WHACK!' and a deafening screech.

I went from surprised to elate within the second and exclaimed, cheerfully. "Oh I hit it! Yes, I hit it! Did anybody see that?" I feel like doing a happy dance… But Astrid could show up, so…

My victory is one that is short-lived. A Monstrous Nightmare appears, slithering up over the lip of the cliff.

I gulp. "Except for you."

And like the manly and fearsome Viking I am, I run… Hollering like a little girl who just saw a dragon for the first time.

Meanwhile… (Third Person P.O.V)

Stoick, who is holding down the netted Nadders hears a familiar holler and looks up to see... Hiccup running through the Plaza, screaming, with the Monstrous Nightmare fast on his heels.

Alarmed, Stoick abandons the Nadders and runs off.

He quickly turns to his men, but his gaze falls on the Nadders behind them. "Do NOT let them escape!" and began his run to the Plaza.

Vikings scatter as Hiccup dodges a near fatal blast. The Nightmare's sticky, Napalm-like fire splashes up onto buildings, setting them alight. Hiccup ducks behind the last standing brazier-the only shelter available. The Nightmare blasts it, spraying fire all him. Hiccup peers around the smouldering post. No sign of the Nightmare. He turns back to find it leering at him, blocking his escape. It takes a deep breath. Hiccup is finished.

Suddenly, Stoick leaps between them, tackling the Nightmare to the ground. They tumble and wrestle, resuming their earlier fight. The Nightmare tries to toast him, but only coughs up smoke.

"You're all out." Stoick sneers at the creature and goes to work. He smashes the Nightmare repeatedly in the face, driving it. It takes to the air and disappears. Winded, Stoick turns to Hiccup.

Hiccup's P.O.V

Oh, and there's one more thing you need to know...

The burnt brazier pole decides that now is the perfect time to go and collapse, sending the massive iron crashing. It bounces down the hill, destroying as it and scattering the Vikings who were holding down the netted Nadders. The freed dragons escape... with several sheep in tow.

Yep. It's official. I. Am. Dead.

I turn to Stoick. "... Sorry… Dad"

Above in the night sky, the escaped Nadders fly past with sheep in their clutches. The raid is over. The dragons have clearly won. The murmuring crowd eyes Stoick, awaiting his response.

"Okay, but I hit a Night Fury." I say, sheepishly.

"Whoa!" I exclaim as my Dad grabs me by the back scruff of my collar and hauls me away, fuming with embarrassment.

"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 Raven Point. Let's get a search out there, before it-"

"-STOP! Just...stop." My Dad cuts me off. He releases me. Everyone goes silent, staring expectantly. "Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see I have bigger problems? Winter's almost here and I have an entire village to feed!" His voice has grown from a stern tone to a near shout with each sentence.

I look around. All eyes are upon me.

"Between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't ya think?" I try to reason in a not-as-quiet-as-intended grumble.

A few rotund Vikings stir self-consciously. I gulp.

"This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" my father exclaims, obvious exasperated. "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

My retort rolls off of my tongue without my able to stop it. "I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just... kill it, you know? It's who I am, Dad." Inwardly, I can't help but cringe; I know what others are thinking as I say this.

My father sighs. "You are many things, Hiccup. But a killer is not one of them." I look around to see many nods of agreement.

"Get back to the house." He tells me, simply. He talks to me as if I was another soldier-in-training. Not his son; anything but this son. He turns his attention to Gobber." Make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up." He lumbers off in the opposite direction. Gobber leads me through the walk of shame. We pass the teen fire brigade as they snicker.

"Quite the performance." Tuffnut informs me, stifling a snicker.

"I've never seen anyone mess up that badly. That helped!" Snotlout piles on.

"Thank you, thank you. I was trying, so..." I avoid Astrid's glare and head up toward a large house, standing prominently on the hill above the others.

"I really did hit one." I say, trying my best to convince Gobber. I just want one person to believe me!

"Sure, Hiccup." He says in a dismissive tone.

"He never listens." I groan, trying to make my case to him as best as I can.

"Well, it runs in the family." Can't argue with that, really.

"And when he does, it's always with this... disappointed scowl. Like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich." I begin mimicking my father's thick Vicking accent. "Excuse me, barmaid. I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring. I an extra-large boy with arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here. This is a talking fish bone."

"You're thinking about this all wrong." Gobber starts off. "It's not so much what you look like. It's what's inside that he can't stand."

Gee, Thanks! I feel so much better! I think in my head, but I bite my tongue.

"Thank you, for summing that up." I say, sarcasm obvious in my tone. What? There is only so much tongue I bite.

We finally reach the doorway.

"Look, the point is, stop trying so hard to be something you're not." Gobber appears to be attempting to make his voice seem comforting, but I can hear the underlining warning tone.

I just sigh heavily.

"I just want to be one of you guys." I say, downfallen.

Gobber eyes me sympathetically. I hate it. So, I turn and open a run through the front door…

… And straight out the back door.

I hurry off into the woods, with a determined attitude.

In the Great Hall-it is now morning. (Third Person P.O.V)

A noisy din of protesting voices-a mixture of the locals' accents and strong Scottish- fills the room and leads to... Stoick, glowering in the firelight. Surrounded by his men.

"We can't keep fighting like this with the threat of the dragons shadowing us!" Stoick shouts, gaining everyone's attention. "Either we finish them or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find them and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! Away from us! Are we in agreement?!" He shouts the ending of his speech, as both civilisations begin to argue once again on the attack methods. Once again they go silent.

He sinks his blade into a large nautical map, spread out on the table... the blade pierces the middle of an uncharted corner, swirling with painted sea monsters and dragons.

"One more search. Before the ice sets in." He says decidedly.

A Scottish woman speaks up. "We have heard the legends and tales. Those ships never come back."

Stoick nods, taking this into account as a good point. "We're Vikings. It's an occupational hazard. Now who's with me?!" Stoick throws up his fist. No one follows. The crowd shifts into restless silence. Head scratches. Eyes averted.

One Viking says, in a feeble tone. "Today's not good for me"

Another says, equally feeble. "I've got'ta do my axe returns."

Stoick groans, knowing the one thing to gain recruits. "Alright. Those who stay will look after Hiccup." All-of-a-sudden, hands jut into the air, volunteers galore, even the Scots, they saw what Hiccup had done and really didn't want to find out what more he could do. Enthusiastic murmurs of prep and packing fill the room.

"To the ships!" Phlegma the Fierce exclaims.

"I'm with you Stoick!" Spitelout joins in.

"That's more like it." Stoick says in a dry voice.

The Vikings rush for the door, but stop when a Scot, possibly in his early-twenties, shouts: "HEY!" which gains everyone's attention. He clears his throat and clambers up on to a close-by table. "How do we Scots know we can trust ye Vikings? How can we help ye without knowin' if ye are gon'na kill us whilst our backs are turned?" There were murmurs of agreement from all the other Scots.

"Hey!" Spitelout exclaimed, getting defensive. "How can we trust you?! You could do all of that to us!"

And so began another argument that went on for a few minutes. Then Stoick saw weapons being drawn and took charge, quickly.

"HALT!" He bellowed. "There shall be no bloodshed caused by one man to another! Understand?! We have enough problems with dragons!" He sighed, running a hand through his scruffy hair. "We shall call a truce until the dragon matter is resolved."

"But who knows how long it shall take to get the message to Scotland!" A fellow Viking argued.

Then they heard loud footsteps coming closer to the door. Then it swung open, to reveal a very burly dark-haired man in his early-thirties in a kilt of different greens and armour. He was at least near six foot, and gasping for breath. When he did, he quickly regained composure. He coughed, clearing his throat.

"I come with a message from King Fergus and Queen Elinor." He announced with his accent only just translatable to the Vikings. Pulling a scroll out of… Uh… Somewhere from inside his kilt and unrolled it. "The Royals of Scotland, Queen Elinor and King Fergus, shall be arriving later towards evening to discuss a temporary truce after hearing of the extra dangers from the dragon-of which they did not prepare for. They shall also be bringing their four children. Three five-almost six-year old triplets and one fourteen year-old. Upon arrival, the Queen has requested sleeping arrangements to be pre-arrange, everything else she feels to be required shall be sorted out after she sees the resources…" He looked around the room and then turned towards Stoick. "I seriously would not argue with the lady, Chief. It shall have terrifying consequences." He warned.

Stoick thought this over. "That seems…" He appeared to be searching for a word to describe the Queens requests, Gobber whispered something into is ear. "Ah, yes! That seems… reasonable enough." He thought a bit more. "Tell them, upon their arrival, that they shall be staying at my house… The King, Queen and the triplets may stay in my guest room. There are two beds. One for the couple and the other can go to the triplets-both are roomy enough and there shall be no problems when it comes to all fitting in each bed. The fourteen year-old may share with my fourteen year-olds room." He appeared to think his arrangements through in his head and then nodded when he found them suitable.

He stood up and looked over the crowd. "Now, begin stocking and prepping the ships, so we may be ready as soon as a temporary peace-treaty arrangement is met to set off!"

The Vikings and Scots rush for the door, leaving Gobber and Stoick. Gobber gulps back the contents of his tankard attachment and scrapes back the bench.

"I'll go pack me undies

"No," Stoick stated. "I need you to stay and train some new recruits."

"Oh, perfect." Gobber begins with sarcasm evident in his voice. "And while I'm busy, Hiccup can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to himself...what could possibly go wrong?" Stoick sinks onto the bench beside Gobber as he says this, his brow burdened.

"What am I going to do with him, Gobber?" Stoick asks.

"Put him in training with the others." Said Gobber, trying to throw a bone to Hiccup and persuade Stoick without him actually realising it.

"No, I'm serious." Stoick replies to the statement.

"So am I." Gobber tries to make his but is only met with Stoick turning to him, glaring.

"He'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage." Stoick retorts, glare still firmly in place.

"Oh, you don't know that." Gobber argues, although he is secretly agreeing with the burly tribe Chief.

"I do know that, actually." Stoick stated his tone matter-of-factly.

"No, you don't." Gobber argued

"No, actually I do."

"No you don't!"

"Listen! You know what he's like. From the time he could crawl he's been...different. He doesn't listen! Has the attention span of a. I-I… I take him fishing and he hunting for... for trolls." Stoick voice was dishevelled- upset, even.

"Hey! Trolls exist! They steal your socks." Gobber went on the defensive. "… But only ever the left ones! What's with that?" he said, wondering.

"When I was a boy..." Stoick began…

"Oh here we go." Gobber grumbled quiet enough as to not be heard.

"My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him. And you know what happened?" Stoick explained.

"… You got a headache?" Gobber inquired.

That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber! He could crush mountains, level, and tame seas! Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become.

There was a long silence "… Hiccup is not that boy." He sounded downfallen.

Gobber offered some wisdom to the man. "You can't stop him, Stoick. You can only prepare him."

He sighed loudly before continuing. "Look, I know it seems hopeless. But the truth is you won't always be around to protect him. He's going to get out there again. He's probably out there now."

He keeps his eyes fixed on Stoick, and watches as his words hit their mark.