The residents of the village of Berk were gathered in to the Great Hall, eating their midday meal, and group of visiting members from a neighbouring tribe were eating with them. What the villagers didn’t realize is that four of those visiting vikings were not in the Great Hall, and neither was the village’s heir, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. And neither was the boy’s dragon and best friend, a night fury named Toothless.
That is, they didn’t realize until they heard the boy’s panicked scream from the village square.
The Chief, and Hiccup’s father, Stoick the Vast, was the first to get to the doors, followed by a part of the village. But they were cut off by the remaining tribesmen, weapons at the ready. Hiccup’s screams of “Toothless! No!” came from beyond the doors.
“What is the meaning of this,” Stoick said. “My son is in danger!” The tribesmen smirked and laughed. The rest of the villagers rose from their seats, getting angry.
“Exactly,” One of them said. “Your runt of a son is an annoying brat who befriended a dragon. We’ll make him regret it.” Hiccup was still screaming, but something wasn’t right. He sounded.. Angry. Really angry. And then he stopped, and complete silence came from behind the doors.
The other tribesmen noticed this too, and opened the doors, allowing them all to look out.
Hiccup stood outside the forge, holding an axe so tightly his knuckles were white. His chest was heaving, and he stood in a protective stance, guarding an injured Toothless, who was trapped beneath a bola. That on its own was strange, but then they looked closer.
Hiccup was covered in blood. It was splattered all over his clothes, his face, the axe, his hands, and he stood in a large pool of blood. His mouth was formed into a snarl, and kicked something on the ground, letting out a short shriek of anger.
Then they saw the bodies.
Four bodies lay around him, each one was awful to look at. One had his head cracked open, the brains spilling onto the ground. One of his arms was nearly taken off. Another had his stomach slashed open and his insides tumbled out onto the ground. Someone else was missing his head, and it lay nearby. The last had a cracked open chest, and blood poured out of the man’s mouth.
The other tribesmen were so shocked they didn’t even struggle as they were apprehended, the sight of the mutilated corpses was too much. Stoick approached his boy apprehensively, followed by the remaining villagers. As they got close, Hiccup turned toward them abruptly, and hefted the axe up on his shoulder, ready to swing at anyone, eyes wide and filled with panic.
“Hiccup! Hiccup, it’s okay!” Stoick said quickly, trying to calm him down. Hiccup stared at him blankly for a moment, frowning. Then Toothless gave out a croon. Hiccup immediately dropped the axe, which was probably half his weight, and was at Toothless’ side, cutting him out of the bola as carefully as he could, ignoring everybody else.
When Toothless was finally released, he stood shakily, and Hiccup put an arm around his friends neck, and looked toward the villagers, and spoke.
“They tried to kill Toothless. I couldn’t let them. Can you get Gothi, please? Toothless’ leg is broken.” He sounded completely normal, as if this was an everyday thing. It did not seem to have effected him that he just brutally killed four men.
Even though Hiccup never spoke about the incident again, the villager’s never forgot. They weren’t scared of Hiccup, oh definitely not. They were almost proud!
But the question on the village of Berk’s minds was “How?”
“How? They were twice his size.”
“How? He was outnumbered four to one.”
“How? They had him cornered, and his dragon was subdued.”
But they knew the answer.
“They tried to kill Toothless.”