During the raid in which Hiccup shot down a Night Fury, a Monstrous Nightmare fired at the ships, burning most of them to ashes. The Vikings were lucky to salvage two for fishing purposes.

Nobody believed Hiccup when he'd told them he shot down a Night Fury, so he went to find it himself, and found something entirely different... A friend. Of course, no one was interested in hearing that he no longer wanted to fight dragons. They simply laughed, as if he were joking.

The warriors' search for the nest was set back a month, despite the possibility of ice setting in before they could return. It was an occupational hazard. There were a lot of those.

Both Hiccup and Gobber were busy hammering nails to replace the ones at the bottom of the harbor, as well as more weapons, since quite a few had been thrown at the retreating dragons in frustration and anger when the Vikings realized that the boats were burning, and more had gone down with the ships. The teens' dragon training was postponed.

Fast forward a month and a half.

It was the second week of dragon training, and the teens were scrambling around a maze with a Deadly Nadder. Most of them were concentrating on staying alive. Hiccup, on the other hand, was fishing for information. By now, he was friends with the dark dragon he'd shot down, Toothless, and he'd been flying with him for almost a month.

Hiccup wanted to know if the other Vikings knew Toothless's shot limit. Did they know how to sneak up on a Night Fury, or when it slept? Hiccup knew the answers to most of those questions, but he wanted to know what the village knew of Night Furies. (Not much, apparently.)

Now fast forward half an hour.

The training ring was in shambles, and Astrid stood above Hiccup as the Nadder retreated to its cage, disoriented. "Is this some kind of a joke to you?" She asked angrily as she turned to glare at him. "Our parents' war is about to become ours," Hiccup could have easily caused both of them to lose their lives if she hadn't managed to untangle herself from him, and he didn't even seem to care. He'd caused so many disasters, it would have been easier to lock him up during raids. Hel, it was almost as if he helped the dragons on purpose! "Figure out which side you're on!"

She almost stopped there. Almost. "Why are you even here? This place is for dragon killers. You're obviously not good enough-" Astrid got no farther than that.

Hiccup stumbled to his feet, glancing nervously at her before running out of the Training Ring. Astrid's eyes narrowed. He wasn't getting away that easily. "Hiccup! Get back here!" It would do him good to get an earful, and she wasn't about to let him walk away from it. There was also the small matter of her pride. The other teens were watching, they would never take her seriously if she let Hiccup the Useless run from her like that. He'd set a challenge for her, whether he realized it or not, and she was going to win. She ignored the twins' snickering and ran after him.

Hiccup threw a glance over his shoulder, stumbling and almost running into someone as he did so. He knew he couldn't kill dragons. Hel, his best friend was a dragon. But it still hurt, hearing Astrid say it.

He had a plan, though. Well, not a plan, exactly. More like a crazy idea he was going to go through with. He was going to run away, fly off with Toothless and live somewhere else. Astrid had told him to figure out which side he was on. Well, he'd chosen, and it wasn't the Vikings' side.

It wasn't as if anyone here would miss him, anyway. Except for Gobber, maybe, but the man could just get a new apprentice. Hiccup's problems were solved. But first, he had to get rid of Astrid, who, by the sound of things, was still following him. He threw a glance over his shoulder to check, almost running into the side of a house. Yes, she was.

Hiccup changed course, weaving through the marketplace. He had an advantage there, with his small stature. Of course, she was small too, but she hadn't had to run from Snotlout and the twins nearly every day for most of her childhood.

He narrowly dodged a Viking with a wheelbarrow, then dashed through someone's back garden. He could still hear Astrid yelling at him, but her voice was fading a bit in the distance. Good, he was losing her. He made it out of the twisting maze of houses in record time and slowed as he reached the forge. Thank the gods Gobber wasn't there. He could just imagine the conversation:

"Wha' are yeh doin'?"

"Oh, just packing my stuff so I can run away with a Night Fury. Did I mention I named him Toothless?"

"Oh, no, yeh don't! These swords aren't goin' to sharpen themselves, laddie. You can play in th' woods later."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. Even in his head, nobody believed he'd shot down a Night Fury.

"Okay... I'll need a basket, and some leather..." He grabbed a woven basket and shoved several tanned hides into it. He knew he didn't have much time, so he grabbed everything he could. "Needle, thread, um, charcoal... Scrap metal, I'll need my tools, too... I don't think anyone else wants those anyway. Dagger, ah, my work apron... Paper! I need paper..." He looked around frantically, and eventually just swept everything off his desk into the basket.

He looked around one more time, then peeked out the service window. Sure enough, Astrid was storming towards the forge, scowling angrily. Hiccup took a second to think about how pretty she looked when she was mad, then crept out the back door. He needed spare clothes, some furs in case it got cold, and he had to pick up his notebook, as well as clear his room of any pictures of Toothless. Once that was done, he was free to go. He took off for his house. Good thing he'd left the riding gear in the cove.

"Get back here! Hiccup!" Astrid shouted a moment later as she burst out of the empty smithy. She looked for the slight figure, not spotting him until he was disappearing into his home, carrying something. "Hiccup! Don't you dare run!" She was glad Stoick wasn't home. He probably wouldn't take kindly to her barging into his house like she was about to.

Astrid raised her axe and charged up the hill with a Viking war cry. It was for show, of course. She wasn't going to chop up the Chief's door, or anything like that. Just his son. And even then, only figuratively. She pushed open the door and crossed the threshold, realizing she hadn't actually been inside the Chief's house before.

She looked around. Stoick's house was pretty much like anyone else's, but it was bigger. Much bigger. She hurried up the stairs to the loft, because she hadn't seen any sign of Hiccup downstairs.

Astrid's eyes widened. Hiccup's room was not bare, as she'd assumed it would be. Paper covered the walls, desk, floor, and even the bed. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Hiccup could draw. She shook herself out of her shock. So what if he could do something without screwing up? She could ask Hiccup to show her his drawings later if she felt like it, but she had to catch him now. She checked under the bed. Nothing. She frowned as a breeze ruffled her hair. A breeze?

She looked over at the window and cursed. It was open and she just caught a glimpse of green and brown as Hiccup hurried into the trees.

It took Astrid almost no time to reach the ground, having taken the same route as Hiccup. She sprinted into the forest, cursing. She nearly lost him several times as he weaved between trees. Then he ducked past a rock several yards ahead of her and she couldn't see him anymore.

Astrid ran forward, almost there...

That was when she heard it. Wing beats. Dragon. She cursed again, realizing she'd left her axe in Hiccup's room. She ducked behind a rock as she'd been taught. If you aren't prepared to defend yourself, hide.

Then Astrid remembered Hiccup. Skinny, weak Hiccup who couldn't have defended himself from a dragon if it was tied up in front of him, waiting to be killed. He was completely unprotected, and Astrid pushed herself forward for the same reason as anyone else would: Useless or not, Hiccup was the son of the Chief and a member of their tribe. Vikings protected their own.

"Hiccup!" She ran past the rock and stopped, scanning the beautiful cove in front of her. Trees, rocks, grass, pond. There was no one there. She scrambled down a narrow path to the bottom and looked around, scowling.

"Hiccup! Get out here!" She called, hoping he'd respond. He didn't. She began walking around, looking for him.

Her eyes took in the signs of a struggle: charred earth, claw marks, and footprints scattered the ground. There was a shield bearing the Berk crest wedged between two boulders, and, glinting in the shallows of the pond, lay Hiccup's dagger.

She stepped into the water and picked it up with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Was she too late? Had Hiccup come here to fight the dragon she'd heard? He wouldn't have stood a chance against whatever had taken up residence here...

Unless it were a Terrible Terror, maybe.

Somehow, she doubted it was a Terror.

Stepping back on shore, she noticed something laying in the dirt. A single shiny black scale. She picked it up, running her finger over it, then suddenly remembered something Hiccup had said a month and a half ago. "...But I got a Night Fury. It's not like the last few times, Dad, I really actually hit it, it went down just off Raven Point..."

He hadn't been lying? She stared at the dark scale in her hand. Wow. He'd actually got it. But... Now it seemed more like it got him.

She looked down. No one had believed Hiccup when he told them about the Night Fury, and now... Now it seemed as though that dragon had killed him. If they had only believed Hiccup's claim, would things be any different?

She took one more look around the clearing and ran back to the village, her expression grim. She had to tell the tribe about this.

Gobber waited patiently for the ship to dock. It had been two weeks since he'd lost his apprentice to a Night Fury and the village, as a whole, had volunteered him to tell Stoick the news. He watched as the beaten vessel bumped up against the pier and Vikings began pouring out. He saw the Chief then, face stony, and wished he didn't have to say anything at all.

"Well... I trust you found the nest, at least?" He asked hopefully. If Stoick had found the nest, then there'd be at least some good news to go around.

"Not even close." Stoick grumbled in response. No such luck, then.

"Ah. Excellent."

"Hope you had a little more success than me." Gobber winced. He'd hoped his friend wouldn't ask.

"Well... If by success you mean your parenting troubles are over with, then, yeah..." Gobber was never good at subtlety, but he was trying his best.

Stoick stared at him, but before he could say anything, Helga the Horrible trotted past on her way to help unload the boat. "Congratulations Stoick! Everyone's so relieved!"

Gobber cringed. This wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. More Vikings rushed past, each shouting something oh-so-helpfully at the Chief.

"Ou' with the old, 'n in with the new, eh Stoick?"

"No one'll miss tha' old nuisance!"

"The village is throwin' a party to celebrate!"

Stoick turned back to Gobber, an almost fearful, yet expectant expression on his face. "He's gone?"

Gobber nodded, looking anywhere but at Stoick. "Yeah... Turns out 'e did shoot down tha' Night Fury... He was carried off by th' thing a few weeks ago."

"No... They took Valka, they can't- Not Hiccup too, not my son..." Stoick closed his eyes, head bowed, and stayed that way for a moment before straightening, suddenly determined. "Let's get a search party out there t' find 'im, then! Wha' are yeh waitin' for?!"

Gobber shook his head sadly. "Stoick... I'm sorry, but there's nothin' we can do, nothin' to find. Hiccup's gone." Stoick stared at him for a moment, then turned suddenly and stomped towards his home, muttering to himself. Gobber looked after him worriedly.

"Well tha' went well..." He muttered. Then frowned. Sarcasm made him think of Hiccup, and that just made him sad, because his apprentice was gone forever, and he'd never hear that sarcastic voice again, talking about making a mark on the world, or complaining about Gobber's scattered appendages, or calling him a meathead... Gobber sighed.

Stoick's mood wouldn't improve when he learned that all the training dragons had escaped just a week after the Night Fury took his son, or that half the sheep were gone, taken in last week's raid.

A/N: I hope you liked it, and I'd just like to say that feedback is very welcome. Suggestions are great (Even if I did write most of it already, shush) and I'm having a lot of fun with this. When I went back and read Run Away, I found myself laughing a lot at stuff I couldn't remember writing. I hope you laugh reading this, too.