Chapter Text
“It's going to be a disaster,”
“Oh you don't know that,”
“Yes, I do know that,”
“No, you don't! Sword, sharpen, now.”
Hiccup sighed and carried the sword Gobber had dumped on him to the grindstone.
“You know, maybe, maybe I should just sit it out this year, I mean, depending on the time of day I was born I might not even be 15 when it starts.”
“Don't be daft, if you wait until next year you'll be almost 16 and it might be too late. What's wrong with you anyway? Most kids are raring to go.” Gobber said, tidying away his tools for the night.
Hiccup sheathed the now sharpened sword, and set it on the bench ready for collection.
“Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the potential for indelible humiliation.”
“Look, you're thinking about this all wrong. You're already a joke to the entire tribe, so it's not really like things can get worse.”
Hiccup stared at his mentor for a moment.
“Thank you, for summing that up.”
“Go on lad, go home and get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow.”
Hiccup shook his head, but he did hang up his apron and step out into the cool evening air. One more night, and then it was time for the Dragon Initiation. All the tribes had their magics, something that set them apart. Other tribes had things like super strength, or invisibility, but this was Berk, and here they had dragon transformation. During the winter solstice of their fifteenth year every member of the tribe went through Dragon Initiation, to find and harness their dragon form. No one knew exactly what type of dragon they would be, until that first change. Hiccup was dreading it. He was going to be something pathetic, like a terrible terror, or maybe something smaller. What if he couldn't change at all? All the others had already turned fifteen, but Hiccup's birthday was actually on the Winter Solstice. What if that messed it up? Oh who was he kidding, just being himself would probably mess it up.
Hiccup circled the house to let himself in through the back door, trying to sneak up to bed without his dad noticing.
“Hiccup?” Stoick asked, getting up from his seat by the fire.
“Uh, hi, Dad.” Hiccup reluctantly descended the few steps he had managed to climb.
“You were out late.”
“Just finishing up some stuff at the forge, you know, won't be there for a while after tomorrow.” Hiccup laughed nervously, even though he hadn't said anything funny.
“Right, right.” Stoick nodded. “Listen, son, things are heating up between the Berserkers and the Hysterics. They've asked for my mediation. I leave at first light.”
“Oh,” Hiccup didn't know whether to feel relieved or upset that his dad apparently thought so little of his son's Initiation that he couldn't delay his departure by a few hours.
“Any, uh, words of advice, for tomorrow?” Hiccup asked. Even as the words left his mouth he wondered why he'd said them.
Stoick gave him that familiar look of resigned disappointment, but he made a visible effort to find some words of encouragement.
“Hiccup, no one gets to choose their dragon. The ritual reflects what you know yourself to be onto the outside. Now even when I was a boy, I knew what I was, and what I had to become.”
“And you turned into a rumblehorn.” Hiccup nodded. “But…” He twisted the hem of his tunic awkwardly. “I'm not you, dad.”
“It's not too late, son. Now maybe you can't make yourself taller or more coordinated, but you can think like us. Do that, and you won't have any problems tomorrow. It's time, Hiccup, no more…this.”
“You just gestured to all of me,” Hiccup complained.
“Do we have a deal?”
Hiccup swallowed back his objections. They'd fall on deaf ears anyway.
“Deal,” he sighed.
Stoick nodded. “Good. I'll be back, probably.”
“And I'll be here, maybe.”
Hiccup slept horribly, tossing and turning until the early hours, and then finally slipping into a deeper sleep as the sun rose. He didn't stir as Stoick took a last look at his son before heading out. The thing that finally awakened him was Gobber pounding on the door.
“Get out here, Hiccup, you're going to be late!”
Hiccup sat bolt upright. From the light that spilled between the shutters it was long past sunrise.
“Coming!” Hiccup yelled, scrambling to get dressed and almost falling down the stairs whilst pulling his boots on.
“There you are,” Gobber said, as Hiccup stumbled out of the door. “Ready?”
“Not even close,”
“Good, let's get going then.”
The whole village was heading to the arena, waiting to see what sort of dragons the new initiates would make. Hiccup caught a few people nudging each other and looking at him, and heard the words ‘terrible terror’ a few times.
Terrors were useful for carrying mail, and that was about it. Becoming a terror was enough to get you through Initiation, since it was technically a dragon, but most people who became terrors went back to their normal lives, never bothering to use their transformation much. It was a bit embarrassing for a normal person, but would be a deep disappointment for the son and heir of the chief. Hiccup needed to become something at least a little bit impressive. Probably nothing as impressive as his dad's rumblehorn, but something like a gronkle would be OK. A nice tough dragon to redeem his frail human body.
When they got to the arena Hiccup slowed down. He never wanted to walk through those doors, never wanted the terrifying moment of truth to come.
“Get in there!” Gobber gave him a shove and Hiccup stumbled into the arena.
“Oh great, who let him in here?” Tuffnut asked.
“This ceremony is only for cool vikings,” Snotlout shoved Hiccup back towards the door, but it had already been pulled shut.
Hiccup was stuck in the circular arena with six other teens, Gobber, and the mute wise woman, Gothi. The stands above were packed with the rest of the tribe, all apart from the large landing area on the west side of the area. There was a beating of wings, and then a large Monstrous Nightmare, fully ablaze, landed to the applause of the Tribe.
Snotlout draped an arm around Astrid. “Hey babe, that's going to be me in five minutes. Pretty impressive huh?”
The cool blonde twisted his hand and pushed him away. “This is a sacred ritual, don't ruin it with your voice.”
“The time has come,” the Monstrous Nightmare called out, causing the crowd to quiet down.
It should be the chief, overseeing the ritual, but since he'd run away from the inevitable humiliation that Hiccup was sure to cause it was Spitelout filling in.
Hiccup tuned out the speech about Berk's glorious traditions, instead sneaking peeks at the others in his group. There was Fishlegs, who was almost bouncing on the spot he looked so excited. He was a massive dragon nerd, so no surprise there. Then there were the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut. The idea of giving them any sort of firepower seemed disastrous to Hiccup, but apparently no-one else shared his concerns. Then there was Heather, the quiet dark haired girl who had washed up on the beach three years ago, after her family's fishing boat sank. There had been some grumbling about whether she should be allowed into Initiation, but she was already showing promise as a warrior and that was enough reason to quash the naysayers. Standing next to her was Astrid, beautiful Astrid with her sun blonde hair and sky blue eyes. Astrid that never even looked at him if she could avoid it. Maybe, just maybe, if he could become something cool she might give him the time of day. The Hofferson's had taken Heather in, and Astrid had embraced the orphan as her sister. Finally there was Snotlout, Hiccup's obnoxious cousin, who had his sights firmly set on the Chiefdom. He was good at everything that Hiccup wasn't, and would no doubt sail through Dragon Initiation too. One of the main reasons Hiccup had wanted to wait a year was to avoid being in the same cohort as Snotlout. Six weeks of seeing him every day for dragon training was going to be torture.
“Hiccup, don't just stand there!” Gobber said, exasperatedly.
Hiccup snapped back to the moment, and realised that all the other kids were spreading out around the arena.
“I need plenty of space, Fishface! Move further away!” Snotlout ordered.
Oh, right, they needed to spread out, because they, or at least most of them, were about to get a lot bigger. Hiccup shifted a bit, but mostly the others had done the job for him, and he stood alone.
Up above, someone began to beat a drum, a slow rhythmic beat that seemed to echo inside Hiccup's ribcage. Gothi walked around between the teens, stopping before each one to dab blood onto their heads. It was dragons blood, probably Spitelout's since he was presiding. It was the last thing Hiccup wanted on him. Silently he cursed his dad for bailing, leaving Hiccup to he annointed with the blood of a dragon who actively wanted him to fail.
He closed his eyes while Gothi smeared the stuff on his forehead, where it burned uncomfortably. Then she used her stick to draw a circle around Hiccup's feet, and then a ring of runes around that. The entirety of Hiccup's focus suddenly went into not scuffing up the circle. That would be a typical Hiccup way to fail. Distantly he could hear Spitelout again over the beat of the drums.
“Stand before the spirits of our ancestors with heads held high, today you become one of us!”
Gothi raised her staff, and then brought it down hard onto the arena floor. The blood on Hiccup's head seemed to be burning through his skin, the beat of the drums was making his whole body shake. The world swam out of focus, he was going to fall, going to break the circle and ruin everything-
The world went dark. Hiccup swayed and caught his balance, finding absolute relief in the sudden silence. Even the burning of the blood on his forehead had stopped. He was standing in a circle of light, surrounded by shadows as black as charcoal.
“So, uh, what happens next?” Hiccup asked, looking around nervously. Suddenly the shadows were full of gleaming eyes, dragon eyes of all different shapes, colours and sizes. Stand before the spirits of his ancestors huh? Apparently it was more literal than he had thought.
"What are you?"
It was a human voice, oddly familiar but Hiccup couldn't quite place it. He cleared his throat, and tried to muster up all the conviction that he could.
“I am a viking,”
"What are you?"
“I am a viking!”
"What. Are. You?"
“Oh for…what do you want me to say? That I'm weak? That I'm useless? Fine! Just give me the most pathetic dragon you've got and send me on my way.” Hiccup snapped.
"Is that what you are?" There was no judgment in the voice. Somehow Hiccup knew that however he answered now it would be accepted. There was no one here to tell him how he should answer, or to tell him that he was wrong. In this moment, somewhere outside of reality, he could be completely honest.
“No,” he said softly. “I'm not useless. I have so many ideas, things that I know could really help us, if people just gave me a chance to work out the teething troubles. And maybe I can't swing a sword or throw a bola, but I could build a machine to throw one further than they ever could!” His voice grew louder as he spoke, venting into the darkness all the frustration he'd learned to keep bottled up. “My whole life, I've been told that not being the same is not being good enough, but I don't believe it! Just because they can't see my worth doesn't mean it isn't there!” He stopped, panting slightly. It suddenly occurred to him that complaining about the tribe to the ancestor spirits or whatever these were might not have been the best idea, but at the same time he was too stubborn to take back a word of what he'd just said.
Out of all the eyes in the darkness there was one pair that seemed to be looking straight into Hiccup's own eyes. They were vivid green, slit by black vertical pupils. They were moving closer, and suddenly a smooth black head broke into the circle of light. The head was followed by a compact black body, with large wings folded along it's back. The tail ended in large fins, which flicked open and closed.
“What are you?” Hiccup breathed. He'd never seen a dragon like it.
"You can't tell?" For the first time the voice spoke with emotion, and it sounded amused. Suddenly Hiccup knew why the voice sounded familiar. He heard it every day after all.
Almost of its own volition Hiccup's hand rose towards the dragon, and the black scaled nose pushed against his palm.
"I'm you."
As abruptly as the arena had vanished it returned, only now it felt a lot smaller because it was crowded with dragons.
There was some cheering from the stands, but also a lot of gasps.
“Beard of Thor, what is that?”
“Well it's not a terror, pay up!”
“Still on the small side,”
“Doesn't look like much,”
Snatches of conversation assaulted Hiccup's ears with startling clarity, like he was up in the stands with them. Along with the auditory assault Hiccup found himself blinking frantically. The world was too bright, the contrast too high. It was overwhelming. He shuddered and cowered against the floor as roar made his ears ring.
“Snotlout! Snotlout! Oi oi oi!”
Hiccup sighed. Just as Snotlout had predicted, he was a red Monstrous Nightmare, the largest dragon in the arena.
The second largest was a green dragon with two heads, which kept accidentally knocking into each other. Then there was a blue deadly nadder, a gronkle, and a metallic dragon that Hiccup didn't recognise. Finally Hiccup looked down at himself. He'd known what to expect, but it was still a shock to see the black scaled paws, tipped with modestly sized black claws. He felt weird, but probably not as weird as he should do. The weight of the wings folded on his back felt reassuring, the tail which he could feel without having to look moved as naturally as his arms or legs.
“Alright, settle down,” Spitelout roared. The stands quieted. “Good, our new initiates will now be entered into the records. Let us consult….the Book of Dragons!”
With much ceremony the book was placed before Gothi, whilst Gobber opened the tribe census.
“Astrid Hofferson, identify yourself!”
“Here!” The blue deadly nadder stepped forward. Hiccup smiled slightly, which felt pretty weird on his altered face. The nadder was perfect for Astrid, as blue as her eyes, and heavily armoured with quills as sharp as any axe.
Gothi flicked through the book and pointed.
“Astrid Hofferson, Deadly Nadder. ” Gobber narrated as he recorded.
“Snotlout Jorgenson, identify yourself!”
“Here!” The Monstrous Nightmare replied. “Obviously, like this could be anyone else,”
The ritual of Gothi pointing in the Book of Dragons whilst Gobber recorded the new transformations continued, in age order so Hiccup knew he would be last called. Fishlegs was the Gronkle, Heather was the metallic dragon, which Gothi identified as a Razorwhip. The twins were the oddest case of all, being somehow merged into the double headed dragon. Did that mean they would never be able to transform separately? Apparently though it had been seen before at some point, as there was a record in the Book of Dragons of the Hideous Zippleback.
“Got some rare ones in this batch,” Gobber commented, as he finished writing up the twins entry. Finally he looked at Hiccup.
“Hiccup Haddock, identify yourself.” Spitelout said, although it was just a formality at this point.
“Uh, here,” Hiccup said, shrinking under everyone's gaze.
Gothi turned every page of the Book of Dragons, but in the end she closed it and shook her head. There was silence. It had been a very long time since the Book had failed to identify a new transformation.
“Give it here,” Gobber took the Book off of Gothi and started looking through himself.
“Ah, there we go,” he held the book up, comparing Hiccup to an illustration on the page. “Looks like a Swiftwing to-ow!”
Gothi lowered her staff and started writing in the dirt. Gobber leaned over to look, rubbing his head.
“Well I know he doesn't have horns but what else is he supposed to be?”
Gothi wrote some more.
“What does she say?” Spitelout asked.
Gobber shrugged, and then reopened the census.
“Hiccup Haddock, Unclassified.”
The stands buzzed with conversation.
“Well he always was a bit of an odd one,”
“Probably a Swiftwing gone a bit wrong,”
Hiccup tried to tune out the comments, shuffling closer to Gobber.
“Um, what does she mean, Unclassified?”
“It means you're not in the Book yet, and we know absolutely nothing about you.” Gobber explained. “We'll add a name when we know a bit more about what you can do. It's unusual, but still, not the disaster you were predicting is it?”
“I guess so,” Hiccup tried smiling again. It really hadn't gone as badly as he thought. Maybe this unknown dragon had some amazing capabilities.
“Hold up!” Snotlout thrust his head in close to look at Hiccup, and then he began literally roaring with laughter. “Oh this is too good! This is even better than a terror! Hiccup has turned into the first toothless dragon in history!”
Hiccup flinched back. At first he thought it was just a dumb prank, but as he ran his tongue across his smooth gums he realised to his horror that Snotlout was absolutely right. There wasn't a single tooth in his mouth.
After an afternoon of learning trot around the arena without tripping over their own unfamiliar bodies Gothi had cast the spell to change them back. In time they'd learn how to change back and forth at will, but for now they needed help. Hiccup had hoped that changing back would bring him before the dragon spirits again so that he could renegotiate, but all that happened was an intense feeling of being squashed, followed by the disorientation of being back on two feet.
After that there was the celebration in the great hall, to honour the new initiates. Hiccup didn't even try to sit with his peers, instead opting for the darkest and quietest corner he could find. All the others were being congratulated on their new, normal, toothy dragon forms. The only people who spoke to Hiccup just wanted to ask if it really was true that he was toothless, and what had he done to offend the gods. No one objected when he left early, or remembered that it was also his birthday.