AU wherein instead of simply naming the runt of the tribe 'Hiccup', the runt is considered bad luck and tossed to the sea gods. As fate would have it, this runt was washed up on Outcast Island and raised as Alvin's heir.

Meanwhile back on Berk, fifteen years later, Astrid learns how to train dragons when she shoots down and fails to kill a Deadly Nadder she names Stormfly. Astrid and Stormfly end the 300 year war between the Hairy Hooligans and the dragons, but Astrid's name as the dragon conqueror has reached the ears of the Outcasts…

After fifteen years of being hidden from the world, Berk is about to get a visit from Alvin's bloodthirsty son, Hiccup the Horrendous, and they had better satisfy his curiosity if they want to get out of this one alive.

This is Outcast Island. As the name might suggest, it's a barren wasteland where the sun rarely shines, y'know, when it's not an overcast day which is pretty much every day. Food is scarce, vegetables are even scarcer and you can forget about bread, Outcasts don't have the patience for something like that. Any food that we do manage to scrounge up is tough and sinewy, just like the vikings that are bred here. Sometimes you're lucky if you manage to live to see the other day because of a little something called-

"Dragon raid!"

The call and the scattering of the vikings that inhabited the meanger village that dwelt on Outcast Island snapped Hiccup out of his internal monologue in time for him to duck and roll out of the way, hand immediately going to his back to yank his axe free as his training kicked in. Now, Hiccup wasn't your conventional Outcast - he had been scrawnier than the older vikings as a child, and even now his stature wasn't exactly the best even though he'd built up muscle as he got older. A scar ran over his forehead and down along his left eye where he'd been attacked by a Monstrous Nightmare at age eight, another on his right cheek from the spike of a Deadly Nadder when he'd completed dragon training at ten.

Another dodge and Hiccup swung his axe into the air, watching it slice into the underside of the neck of a Nadder, clear through the jugular. Blood splattered along the ground as the Nadder fell from the sky, tumbling before it landed just a few feet away from the boy, who stepped forward to retrieve his weapon, yanking it free from tough dragon hide before he swung it down, severing the head completely.

"Hiccup!" The voice caught his attention and he looked up, boot pressed firmly on the Nadder's head as he shouldered his axe. Savage was gesturing him over to the great hall and he scowled, glancing around. There were too many dragons tonight, more than usual, and Hiccup watched his father shoot a Hideous Zippleback with a boulder from a catapault before he started running for the hall.

"I was just starting to get into it, too." Hiccup used his long sleeve to wipe the blood from his axe as he stepped into the hall, followed shortly after by the chief and his lieutenant. The Outcasts who had already smartly taken shelter (the cowards) immediately shut up as the boy stepped closer to the fire, taking his usual position as the doors were closed. Anybody who was left outside would be dragon chow.

Alvin chuckled, rolling his shoulders as he patted him on the shoulder, avoiding the spikes from his shoulder guards and making the necklace of dragon teeth rattle around Hiccup's neck. "You'll get your chance soon enough, boy." He turned his attention to Savage, raising an eyebrow before turning it back to the younger viking he had adopted as his own with a vicious grin. "I think it's time."

Hiccup's brow furrowed before realization kicked in and he lowered his axe, setting it on the floor blade-end first. His eyes gleamed a deadly green, his own grin spreading across his lips. "You mean it?"

"Of course, of course. When have I lied to you?"

"Well there was that one time..."

The Outcasts in the hall nearly jumped when Alvin let out a laugh at that, his shoulders shaking with mirth, and they shared a look. Only the chief's son could get away with talking like that. Hiccup raised an eyebrow and waited for his father to calm down, lifting his axe off the floor and pulling a stone from his back pocket, starting to sharpen the blade as he leaned it against the brick hearth. This could take some time after all.

Once he was calm, Alvin shook his head, starting to speak again. "We sail for Berk under the cover of night. They won't see us coming."

"Why not take the entire army, your eminence?"

"We're not going there to fight Stoick." Hiccup stiffened at the name, his eyes darkening. "We're only there for one man - the dragon conqueror."

"I heard he's ten feet tall, with the strength of a dozen men."

"Well, he certainly won't be hard to find then, will he?" the teenager responded through gritted teeth, setting his sharpening stone to the side as he examined his blade by the firelight. He tossed his axe up into the air, catching it by the handle before he throws it in the direction of the other gathered Outcasts, the air around the blade whistling as it sliced open someone's head. Nobody blinked, nobody even moved a muscle before he flexed his fingers with a small sigh and turned to Alvin, shoulders and back straight and proud. "Father, let me face Stoick."

"You're not ready yet, Hiccup." Alvin let his hand rest in the small of Hiccup's back, watching the boy's face scowl and snarl like a wild animal. Hiccup's origins were no secret to either of them, how he'd been cast out on a small boat as a child and left to the gods to decide what to do with. Fate had him land on Outcast Island, and the rest was history. Alvin had not kept things secret from Hiccup, instead using them to fuel his anger and hate and mold him into the perfect fighter. The boy was every bit Stoick's son, right down to the stubbornness that seemed to plague the Haddock line. "No, not yet. I'm tasking you with the most important thing - capturing the dragon conqueror from right under Stoick's nose. He shouldn't be too much for you to handle, surely."

Hiccup pursed his lips together before he walked over to the viking that he had killed, stepping his foot onto the middle of their chest and pulling his axe free from the head for the second time that evening. Blood dripped from the blade and he turned back to look at Alvin.

"I can handle a warrior with the strength of a dozen men. I've taken care of our best in my training, haven't I?"

"Excellent, excellent. Savage! Ready the ships!" The lieutenant straightened himself and nodded, even as the explosions of dragon fire sounded outside. Alvin leaned forward onto the brick surrounding the hearth, face twisted in the firelight. "Tomorrow night, we set sail for Berk, and my son is going to best Stoick's so-called dragon conqueror."