Okay, so this is random. The idea just sort of jumped into my head while I was working on my other Tennis Shoes fic. Apollus in the world of How to Train Your Dragon. It amused me.

It was a fact known among those who actually believed the old tales that a Roman Centurion's greatest enemy was a dragon.

And it was a well-known fact among dragons that Roman Centurions were even tastier than Vikings. And since it was no longer good form among dragons to eat or at least attack Vikings and their villages, Roman Centurions were fair game.

The Vikings didn't seem to mind. In fact, they seemed thrilled by the idea.

Apollus Brutus Severillus had heard as much from his sources. He had been trapped in the desolate little area for nearly a month now, still searching for a way to get back to the random whirlpool that had sent him through time and space back to the mess affectionately known as the Galaxy Room.

He really hated that place. It had taken him from his home, separated him from his girlfriend several times, and now had dumped him somewhere in Ancient Scandinavia without so much as an ancient prophet to offer sage wisdom and guidance.

But the dragons… well, he couldn't help but feel that old Roman sense of power when he saw the dragons in the sky. World domination applied to magical beasts as well, did it not?

He wanted to cut out the heart and bring it to Meagan. She'd kill him for that, not understanding the meaning. Well, if nothing else she could fry it up for dinner. But no, Meagan thought eating animal hearts was weird. Stupid 21st century culture.

And killing a dragon would sure upset the Vikings. Nothing better than upsetting a Viking. They wanted to kill him, anyway. He owed them nothing. Nothing!

Besides, the dragons sure wanted to kill him. He had been attacked multiple times over the course of the month as he hid out in the hills behind the village known as Berk.

But he had managed to steal weapons and he had observed the dragons. So what if they breathed fire? A little fire never hurt a Roman Centurion.

And now he stood in the middle of a very large clearing, battle axe drawn. An awkward weapon, but he had to admit it was extremely cool. The dragon fluttered above him with its small-but-mighty wings.

Oh, he would take it down.

The beast caught sight of him and with hate and hunger in its eyes dived toward him like a blinding red flash of lightening.

The same one that had attacked him so many times before.

The monster the Vikings called the Terrible Terror.

Oh, it was a fearsome creature. Small but deadly.

Apollus swung the axe, but the Terrible Terror moved quickly, fire erupting into Apollus' face. He shielded his eyes, but his eyebrows were definitely singed.

The Terrible Terror landed on the ground, moved into crouching position, and hissed.

Apollus swung again, but the beast let out more fire than the pint-sized body suggested.

Some of it hit his arm. Apollus screamed and fell to the ground. He had never actually been burned before. It hurt. But he remembered what all the nieces and nephews and cousins learned at school: Stop, Drop, and Roll. And something about looking both ways before crossing the street. Not that he ever obeyed that one.

After a moment he examined his arm. It wasn't even blistering. Just some redness.

Stupid dragon.

He sat up and glared at it.

But the Terrible Terror was rolling in a patch of grass nearby.

It was almost… cute.

But no! A Roman Centurion did not think in terms of "cute"!

"For the glory of Rome!" he shouted as he charged at the dragon.

But the dragon had seemed to have lost all fear.

No matter. Apollus needed a worthy and brave opponent.

The little guy was pretty brave.

Apollus threw down the axe and threw himself at the dragon. The dragon sunk its jaws around his arm. Not biting, but…


Apollus fell back and sighed.

Meagan would probably prefer a pet over a heart anyway.

The End