Chapter Text
Fifteen-year-old Hiccup Haddock raced down the hill towards the forge. There were dragons everywhere. As he dodged fellow Vikings defending the village, anyone who spotted him shouted harshly “What are you doing out?” or “Get back inside!” Didn’t they realize that he was going to his assigned dragon raid station at the forge?
As he neared the forge, he failed to see his father, who snagged him by the collar and hoisted him off the ground. “What is he doing….What are you doing outside? I thought I told you to stay inside if there’s a raid!”
Hiccup couldn’t believe that his own father had forgotten that his assigned dragon raid battle station was the forge. Just how was he expected to get there from his house anyway? Use a nonexistent tunnel? Fly? As if he could do that!
“I’m going to the forge, Dad. To help Gobber,” Hiccup replied, carefully avoiding his characteristic sarcasm.
“Then get there quick! You can’t be outside!”
“Yes Dad.” Hiccup knew there was no point in arguing. “Could you put me down please?”
Hiccup’s father didn’t realize that he was still holding his son in the air. Dropping him none too gently to the ground, he growled “Get going! And don’t let me see you outside again.”
Hiccup sprinted for the forge all the while wondering how he could cope with conflicting orders. If he left his house during a raid, he would be scolded for going outside. If he didn’t go to the forge to carry out his assignment, he’d be punished for that! Didn’t his dad realize that the orders were in conflict? No matter what he did, Hiccup was in the wrong. It was a no-win situation.
In any case, Hiccup had no intention of staying in if the right opportunity presented itself. Suddenly a familiar whistle pierced the night sky followed by cries of “Night Fury! Get down!” Hiccup looked towards the sky above the sea in time to see a silhouette block the stars, followed by a blast of purple plasma which destroyed a catapult. In the light of the fireball Hiccup glimpsed a dark shape with broad wings speeding past the destroyed weapon.
“Yesss!” he cried. Tonight he would get his chance to shoot down the Night Fury. At last he could impress Astrid and his dad. His bola launcher was ready. All that he needed was a moment without Gobber in the forge. Then, as he reached the door to the forge, he skidded to a halt. Standing at the door, holding a wicked-looking club, was Bucket.
“Bucket! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be defending your farm with Mulch?”
“Chief’s orders. I’m to make sure that you don’t leave the forge, by whatever way I can,” Bucket replied, motioning to the club. “You’re to man the hatch, nothing else. If you try to leave, I’m supposed to knock you out with this and put you safely in the forge.”
“But Bucket! I’m not going to go anywhere! You need to help Mulch at your farm! I’m fine!”
“Sorry Hiccup. Chief’s orders.”
Without another word, Hiccup entered the forge and stood at the hatch, watching the raiding dragons and the villagers fighting them with a glum expression. At least Gobber, the blacksmith and his mentor, wasn’t there to harass him. Hiccup had noticed that Gobber’s axe hand was missing from its rack. He was out fighting the dragons.
Hiccup’s bola launcher, which he had named “The Tangler” was ready in the back of the forge. There was no way that he was getting it to the cliffs past Bucket, and it was too big to go out the back door. His opportunity was gone, maybe for good. He saw his fellow teens fighting the fires that the dragons had set and thought “Their job is so much cooler than mine.” He got a glimpse of Astrid as she doused a fire only to have a dragon’s fireball explode behind her and reignite it, just missing her as she raced to refill her bucket. He smiled as he saw her determined expression, but the smile faded as he glumly thought that he’d never again get the chance to impress the beautiful blonde that he was crushing on. If there would be a guard on the forge from this point on, there was no way that he’d get the chance to shoot down a Night Fury. His weapon invention days looked to be over.
Bucket noticed Hiccup’s gloomy expression as he carefully watched his new charge. He didn’t like his new duty. Hiccup was his friend. He thought that the chief’s order was overly harsh, particularly having him there with a club. But, orders were orders.
As Astrid raced to refill her bucket, she saw Hiccup watching her, as usual, from the forge hatch. What was unusual was his expression. Instead of the goofy, dreamy look that he usually had when he watched her, he looked gloomy. She had missed his initial smile. She idly wondered what could be wrong for a moment, but then noticed Bucket standing in the forge doorway cradling a club. “The Chief has finally done something about his crazy inventions,” she thought. “It’s about time. Maybe a little less clean-up after a raid.”
Then she recalled Hiccup’s glum expression in the hatch. She thought of the motivation behind all of Hiccup’s crazy inventions, that being regaining the favor of the village. Finding a way to fight dragons using his brains. He didn’t have the physical strength to fight them in any other way. His route to achieving that goal was effectively blocked. At that moment her heart sank, feeling sorry for her former best friend. He really only wanted to do his part fighting dragons. But the raid was still in progress. She had a job to do. With that her concentration returned to the task at hand, firefighting.
As Hiccup watched Astrid race away, a villager approached the hatch with a mangled sword, demanding another and spewing the usual insults at Hiccup, drawing his attention away from his crush. One villager with a damaged weapon led to another, then another. Soon a line had formed, and Hiccup was too busy to think about much other than swapping good weapons for wrecked ones and trying to ignore the stream of insults from his fellow Berkians even as he fought to fill their demands. During a brief lull he stared at the pile of broken swords, maces, spears and bolas and groaned. “Looks like this is going to be my life from now on,” he thought dejectedly.