This is newly edited version for better language, updated 22.10.2017

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It all had happened so quickly. One moment he was soaring through the air fulfilling his Queens wishes, to destroy the weapons that those puny Vikings built to throw rocks at dragons. That was what he always did, purpose of his existence and he never failed, until now.

He had just destroyed last of the weapons. His shriek alone made the Vikings cover in fear, shouting "Night Fury". A moment too late another sound had reached his ears, sound of something flying towards him. At that point, it had already been too late as ropes wrapped around his scales, and worse his wings. The powerful wings that were carrying him mere second earlier became useless in an instance.

He tried to struggle against the ropes, but they wouldn't give out and the ground was approaching quickly. Had he finally failed his queen.

Last thing the Night Fury knew before losing consciousness was a horrible pain in his tail. Not that there was spot in his body that didn't hurt.

Eventually he returned to consciousness, so he wasn't dead, yet. He had been knocked out for at least several hours considering how high the sun had climbed. The previous night came back to him like a flood. He had been hit by something, a weapon with weight in attached to ropes that Vikings used to trap unsuspecting dragons. Except no Viking should have been able to throw it far enough to hit him. Vikings were just weak humans after all. Did they have a new weapon? He'd have to destroy it next time they attacked the village to… to serve the queen… yes to serve their queen because…

Why was he serving her?

Suddenly he realized it. He didn't want to serve the queen or raid the villages. He did it because she forced him, invaded his mind spoke to him telling how he had to be loyal and serve his queen. He had so. All of them had.

But he couldn't hear her anymore.

No.

The moment of happiness thinking he might be free passed. He could feel her presence, but it was weak. It couldn't completely cover his mind. She was too far to extend her full strength for one dragon. Not that it mattered now. He couldn't move, bound by the ropes. Soon Vikings would probably show up to finish the job. Otherwise he would die slowly of thirst.

He laid down, ready to give up. He was half asleep when a sound, a human sound came from just few meters away. He wasn't yet completely awake, but the sound and the smell, filled his senses. Then something came down on his bound front pawn. That made the dragon stir awake sending the human stumbling back, more from surprise than strength of the movement.

Few seconds later the Viking came back closer, and the dragon could finally see him. It was unlike any other Viking he had ever seen. The creature standing next to him was smaller and obliviously weaker than any other Viking he had never seen. Even the metal weapon this puny creature was holding was smaller than anything they usually used against dragons. Even in his vulnerable state, the tiny weapon would have a hard time getting through his scales.

It all seemed strange, and after a moment dragon deduced it had to be just a hatchling. He was going to be killed by a Viking hatchling. So shameful way to die, and he still couldn't do anything about it. Even the miserable weapon and weak paws holding it would eventually penetrate deep enough in his flesh to kill and it wouldn't be quick death. He closed his eyes, when it brought the weapon ready to strike, not wanting to witness what was going to happen. He was just waiting for the pain.

It never came. The viking let out a small sound. It was hard to understand human voices, but it didn't sound threatening. He didn't get to think that when something even stranger happened. There was a repeating sound and then the ropes around his body started to loosen. Was the Viking letting him go?

That couldn't be it. Vikings were enemies of the dragons, they would kill any dragon on sight. It had to be some kind of a trap. The voice of the queen was whispering to him. It was telling him to not give any mercy. The moment he could move he leaped at the small Viking. The hatchling was pinned under his strong claws. Then something happened

He was just going to gather gas for killing blast, when pair of green eyes met another smaller pair of similar eyes. Only the first pair held any hostility or hate. The smaller eyes showed fear and something more. Was it sadness? Eventually it seemed to accept its fate, much the same way he must have looked mere moment ago.

And there were no other Vikings leaping at him as he expected, there was no sign of anyone else but the hatchling. He was about to kill someone's hatchling, one that had just spared his own life. You didn't just kill hatchlings, not again.

He held back his gases and instead let out only a deafening roar, a warning not to mess with dragons again. Then he tried to fly away, but something was wrong. He couldn't control his flight and crashed against a cliff.

It all had been too much for Hiccup and he had fainted as soon as the dragon was out of sight.

He didn't stay out cold for very long and started heading back for the village. The dragons roar was still echoing in his head. All that Hiccup got from the whole ordeal was that he really was useless. All those years of being dismissed by everyone, bullied by his peers, and called useless, he had at least small hope. It was hope that someday he would kill a dragon one way or another and be recognized by the village, to not be the perpetual joke of a Viking. Now that hope was gone. Even when he managed to down a NIGHT FURY, he couldn't kill it. He wasn't killer, and in Berk that meant he was nothing. No-one even believed that he downed the beast in the first place, and now there was no way to prove it.

There was nothing left that he could do to redeem himself in front of everyone. He would just be same old Hiccup the useless forever, or till he got killed, probably in a raid. It wasn't like he hadn't been close to that often enough. Maybe the next time would be the charm. At least then the village would have something to celebrate after a battle.

Hiccup dragged himself home where his dad Stoic the Vast, one of the greatest dragon slayers in the world, was sitting in front of the fire. He was seemingly in his own thoughts. Hiccup didn't feel like facing his dad right then and tried to sneak behind him to the stairs that lead to his room. He wasn't quite silent enough to succeed.

"Hiccup", Stoick voice was unusually quiet when he called his son's name.

"Dad, uh… I have to talk to you dad."

Stoick stood up and turned towards Hiccup.

"I need to speak with you too son."

Then they both spoke at the same time.

"I don't want to fight dragons", Hiccup said.

"You're not ready to fight dragons," Stoick said.

Of course neither could make out what other one said.

"You go first", for once Stoick offered to listen to his son.

"No you go first", Hiccup hesitated and letting his dad speak first bought him time.

"Alright, Hiccup Gobber spoke to me to convince me into letting you in dragon training."

"Oh man, I should've gone first. Uh, because…", Hiccup was cut off by his dad.

"Hiccup, I didn't agree with him. You're just not ready yet." Disappointment was palpable in Stoick's voice when he said the last words. "You are as old as the other recruits and… um smart, but you aren't yet strong enough to survive the training. Maybe next year."

"Uh okay dad." Hiccup was so relieved that for a moment he almost forgot his encounter with the night fury.

"So… what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh… nothing important", Hiccup quickly answered.

"Oh, one more thing. You can't join dragon training but you still need to know how to survive a raid so you will follow the lessons from outside the arena, starting tomorrow."

Hiccup didn't even know what to say. His dad couldn't be doing this to him. Things were bad enough as they were and he would be bullied for not being in dragon training anyway, but having to watch from the side-lines. He could only imagine how much worse things would be with all the other teens witnessing his uselessness every day.

Naturally Stoick didn't even notice his son's distress and headed to the door a large bag hanging from his shoulder.

"I'm leading a search for the nest. Follow Gobber's teaching carefully. I'll be back, probably."

"And I'll be here, maybe." Hiccup responded and wasn't sure himself if the last part was sarcasm.

Next day Hiccup arrived at the arena as his father had told him to. Though he made sure to arrive only after everyone else. Maybe they wouldn't notice him during the training. For a moment, it seemed to work when everyone's attention was first on twins bickering and then on Gobber when he started to introduce the dragons being held at the kill ring: the Deadly Nadder, the Hideous Zippleback, the Monstrous Nightmare, the Terrible Terror.

Gobber paused to yell at Fishlegs to stop… whatever he was saying.

Unfortunately, this also broke what concentration the others had for listening to Gobber, and Tuffnut happened to glance up above the last metal door where certain boy was sitting. He didn't keep this discovery to himself.

"Hey, what's useless doing there?"

"Well… he already killed a Night Fury, so it would be unfair if he was in the dragon training", Snotlout joked raising some laughs from the group. Gobber put end to it before things escalated any further.

"And… as I was saying! The Gronckle", during the last word he grabbed the lever used to open the heavy doors.

"Whoa whoa, wait aren't you going to teach us first", thankfully Snotlout forgot Hiccup after seeing what Gobber intended.

"I believe in learning on the job." Hiccup muttered to himself.

"I believe in learning on the job." Gobber declared. Then he pulled the lever releasing the dragon. The gronckle flew straight out of its den, through the point where other teens had just been, and directly to opposing fall. The dragon took a moment to eat few rocks lying next to the wall, while Gobber started giving instructions to the teens. Apparently it was more important to have shield than an axe. Dragons also didn't like the sound from hitting the shield with something.

Watching the other teens getting picked up one by one Hiccup felt some relieve that he wasn't there, but soon his attention focused on something else. It was just how his mind worked. The Gronckle was supposed to be bloodthirsty beast but it only shot the shields out of other's hands and never attacked after that. Earlier it even chased screaming Fishlegs around the ring but never shot before said teen got a shield.

Eventually the dragon had used all of its six shots, and Gobber dragged it back to its den. By this time Astrid was only one who still had her shield. Then Gobber said something that Hiccup suddenly found himself doubting.

"A dragon will always, always go for the kill."

Except Gronckle didn't seem to do so, and Hiccup was still alive after being pinned down under the claws of a Night Fury.