A/N: Welcome! I hope you enjoy this and feel free to offer suggestions. :)

Haedryin (Hay-dree-N)

Iyn (I-Ann)

Rated for a darker (but it does get lighter) tone and minor violence.

My apologies for any spelling/Grammar errors I missed. There will be some, I have this annoying habit if when ever I stop and think for a moment I put a comma or a period. Its a lot of fun to edit. (sarcasm). :)

I hope you enjoy! =D

'Ever since I could remember everything inside of me just wanted to fit in

I was never one for pretenders, everything I tried to be just wouldn't settle in

If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me?

And If I seemed dangerous, would you be scared?'

-"Monster" Imagine Dragons

Chapter 1: This is Berk

Monster.

I am a monster.

I don't bare claws or fangs, carry venom or lust after blood but I am a monster. Cursed to be this way forever. Freezing everything around me or turning the world around me into a barren land of death and cold. Cursed with winter's abilities.

I never said that I want this.

I would drop it in a heartbeat if I had a choice.

Monster.

My fingers curl around the window sill as I shift slightly, looking at the village. From my current position, I can see every part of the town. The buildings dotting across the hills in gentle waves moving towards the cliff's edge to the dragon training arena. The cliffs are tipped with sharper edges and sea stacks and rocks that poke from the water in deadly waves. Anyone who decided to try rock climbing it would probably end up impaled, most of the cliffs are so windy it's ridiculous.

Berk. Twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. Located solidly on the meridian of misery. My village? In a word, sturdy. It's been here for seven generations but every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.

I lean my head back letting my knee length hair blow in the wind watching it idly. I can't sleep. Again. Nothing new. Not because my father is snoring louder than thunder rumbling but because of the nightmares.

The village discovering about my curse and beheading me, throwing me from the island or blood eagling me.

My gloved fingers are clenched tightly but small patterns of frost still travel across the window seal. I squeeze my eyes shut pulling my bare feet closer to my chest. Ice. Of all the magical abilities to be cursed with it had to ice and snow. It couldn't have been tropical powers? I let out a soft sigh for the umpteenth time staring outwards at the stars tracking a few of the major constellations I know.

A soft breeze whips through my hair but I feel nothing. I can never feel cold, I never have never will. No one knows about my curse then again no one pays attention to me in the first place to notice. Frost spreads across the bottom of my deep blue shirt and I switch my gaze from the sky to it scowling.

Conceal don't feel. Do not feel, do not feel, do not feel.

I let out a slow breath looking out towards the horizon. Get it together. I bite my lip deeply, (my nervous habit) before watching the ocean lazily lap against the territory markers. So free with the moving horizon.

Wait. Moving horizon?

I squint looking at the black star dotted sky. Yup, it is definitely moving. But the sky doesn't move; something is coming for us. I grit my teeth moving my hands onto my lap. Probably our resistant pests. You see, where most places have mice, or mosquitoes, we have dragons.

They took my mother when I was younger, I've never been able to muster up any pity for them. They attack our island every other week or so steal most of the livestock then leave to whatever hole they crawled from to return again.

The distant dots grow bigger and within five minutes probably less the silhouettes of the dragons are visible as they sweep down towards Berk grabbing sheep in their claws. I watch them for half a second before swinging off of the side of the window sill into my room.

There's a desk in a corner, my bed next to it, at the foot of the wooden structure is a chest filled with clothing. On another side of my room is small nightstand with drawers and the top is currently towered with books.

Pencils are shoved into a small broken mug on my desk and towards the edge of my bed is my boots and a dagger in a sheathe. I stumble across the room and grab the deep brown leather boot shoving it onto my right foot and pulling it up towards my knee. I echo the process with my other foot and reach for my dagger as the echoing cry rings throughout the village.

"DRAGON RAID!"

Almost immediately, a loud thump sounds from the lower level of the house where my father sleeps. I tense and wait for a moment in silence until I hear his towering footsteps run from the house. A breath of relief escapes my lips and I shove the dagger onto my belt and swing on my hooded vest. It's a pale grayish color and was given to me nearly ten years ago when I lost two of my front teeth by tripping and smashing my face against a table.

I grab a long strip of leather and gather my layered auburn hair away from my face as I start to stumble down the stairs towards the door. Usually, my father would have told me to stay put or give me strict instructions to go to the Great Hall that I would ignore, I'm more of a nuisance more than anything during these raids. I can't even lift a war hammer properly without nearly breaking my back.

Weak, useless and cursed.

I tie my hair in a loose high ponytail letting the shorter layers do what they want. My hair has waves but for the most part it's stick thin straight and does whatever it wants whenever it wants. My bangs fall in front of my eyes and I pull them towards my right side as I reach the door and rip it open staring at the now awake village.

A dragon is standing a good three or four yards away flapping its large wings. Seeming to sense my presence, the dragon turns it's head towards me it's deep yellow orange eyes locking with my deep emerald with blue flecks. After barely a second it releases a stream of fire towards me, shield, shield, shield-the door! Right.

I grab the wood and slam it shut throwing my entire body weight against it to keep it closed as fire leaks through the cracks, closing just in time. A second later and I would have been properly roasted.

Most people would leave.

Not us.

We're Vikings; We have stubbornness issues.

I open the burning door and race down the hill, skidding to the sides to avoid several Vikings running past me wielding battle weapons, yelling war cries and shouting for all their lungs are worth. A pleasant thing to wake up to in the morning. Pulling my gloves on my hands more I continue the race down the hill picking up speed.

My names Haedriyn, great name I know. Impossible to pronounce. That's why I go by Iyn; believe me, my names not the worst. Parents believe that a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

I run under a log two people are holding, then beside a few people when a Viking grabs my shoulder and shoves me to the ground in a swift fluid movement. He lets out a war cry and with the small sparks in his beard sparkling widely his eyes pop slightly in surprise. "Morning!" He roars as he recognizes me as not a dragon and pulls me to my feet before racing off to join the rest of the village defend against the raid.

I let out a soft groan staring up at the sky for a moment letting my sight clear before shaking my hair from my face and start to run the well worn, familiar path to the blacksmith's shop ignoring the other Vikings calls:

"What are you doing here?"

"Get inside."

"Get back inside!"

My gaze remains locked forward only breaking the pattern for half a second as I spot a sentry picking at his ear, oblvious apparently, to the battle going on around him. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes -though it's strong- I move forward skidding to a stop as a dragon leaps down in front of me, setting a wall of fire in my path.

My balance tips and I start to fall towards the fire, tripping over air. Ah, yes, I am the queen of unnaturally terrible grace. The one and only thing I'll ever rule. A hand grabs the back of my vests' hood jerking me to a stop and dragging me back and lifting me from the ground with ease. I glance at my rescuer and bite my tongue not meeting his eyes. Ah man. I am so dead.

"Iyn!" The man groans, "What is she doing out?" He asks the villagers rushing by, then seeming to realize the stupidity in his question he turns to me, eyes narrowed angrily, "What are you doing out? Get inside!" he throws me right, away from the wall of flames and I look back at him for a second.

Stoick the Vast; Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby he popped a dragon's head clean off it's shoulders.

Do I believe it?

Yes I do.

I break into the forge and slip off my vest tossing it onto an empty chair and the resting cat, Square hisses angrily with a yelp of anger. He's an angry cat and likes select few people, namely the blacksmith and a few of the other teens in the village. He and I have a 'if you don't bother or touch me I won't strangle you' relationship.

I grab an apron from off the wall ignoring as Square stumbles off his long white fluffy tail disappearing into a shelf. How the cat has survived hundreds of raids is beyond me, the stupid fluff ball is invincible.

Snapping from my thoughts, I tie off the apron and turn rushing towards a fallen hammer from the weapons rack. The blacksmith, a man missing both his left arm and his right foot with a log blond mustache looks up at me. "Oh, thanks of you to join the party. I thought you'd been carried off." The blacksmith says, waving his hook at me, and stops pounding on the sword he was working on to look up at me with a dry smile.

I offer a painfully fake smile and roll my eyes as I return sarcastically, "Who me? No. Come on I'm waaaay to muscular for their taste." My muscles toil as I grab the outer edge of the metal of the hammer straining to lift it, after a small battle I shove it into place on a few spare nails. I look back at Gobber and add,"They wouldn't know what to do with all...this." I say and flex imaginary muscles.

The blacksmith rolls his eyes huffing slightly before picking up on my sarcasm as he says,"Eh, well they need toothpicks, don't they?"

Yeah. Hilarious.

I race towards the window and throw it open grabbing the weapons that the Vikings throw on the sill and gather them in my arms staggering towards the bellows and throwing the metal onto the coals to be heated and remade. I run towards the bellows and pull down on them with my entire weight. The blacksmith: A meathead with an attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little..well...littler.

My gaze flickers upwards as a dragon diving by catches my attention.I watch as it swoops down and blasts a stream of white hot fire at the wood. It goes up in flames with a heavy explosion instantly.

"FIRE!" A voice roars.

"Alright guys let's go!" A young male voice commands. Our fire patrol: Just a bunch of teens all ranging fifteen through sixteen that never get along.

Fishlegs, a large girl with a big amount of blond hair tied back in a pony tale under her small helmet grabs a bucket and tosses it onto the house. Snotlout, is your average Viking: strong, stupid, prideful and everything in between plus she is very, very, verrrry full of herself. Yes, don't be deceived by the name, Snotlout is a girl. Last person who called her a guy walked away with black eye, and broken bones.

She hands a bucket to Ruffnut. Tuffnut, her male twin grabs it from her and they begin to fight over it, the twins fight over more stuff than what is reasonable but beyond the punches and yelling they're the closest pair of siblings on Berk. Finally, there's Asher. A strong lean teen who I used to have a crush on, but now…not so much. He got a little crazy about training and being the best ever since his uncle Finn Hofferson was killed by a Flightmare nine years and some months ago.

I lean out the window for a better look as another fireball blasts behind them casting a eerie orange glow around their figures after a few moments, they run past the shop carrying their waterless buckets, terrible at putting the fire out, but really good at looking dramatic. "Oh their job is so much cooler." I groan, not like I particularly want to be around fire, I just feel that it would be more useful than my current job. Gobber pulls me back into the shop by the top edge of my dark blue sleeve.

"Oh! Come on! Let me out! Please! I need to make my mark!" I say in frustration looking at Gobber. He rolls his eyes letting me go.

"Oh, You've made plenty of marks." He assures me. Then poking at my shoulder with his prosthetic pliers he adds, "All in the wrong places."

Okay, so maybe my inventions don't always go according to plan but I haven't blown anything up in the village for a while. I let out a frustrated breath, "Please! Two minutes! I kill a dragon and my life will get infinitely better, I might even get a date." I argue gesturing outwards towards nothing.

Gobber looks at me and raising a thick blond eyebrow says,"You can lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these." Gobber lifts up a Bola, three rocks with a lot rope attached used for capturing dragons. He grunts in surprise as a Viking leans through the window and rips it from his grasp tossing it into the air, catching a dragon. It goes down, landing hard.

"Okay, fine." I agree, backing up a little towards where my recent project is. "But, this will throw it for me." I argue gesturing to my newest invention, the Mangler. It's pretty much two bows attached to a rotating platform that's easy to fire and aim. The "bows" do the work of swinging the bola that I can't do...it just hasn't worked yet. The misfires have been close. The edge of my fingers brush against the top and the wood rockets upwards the hammer resting on top flinging outwards. Gobber dodges to the side and the hammer soars past him, hitting a Viking in the forehead who is outside the window. Oops. He'll be fine just have a pounding headache...when he wakes up. Gobber looks at my unintentional target before turning to me with glare.

"See, now this right here is what I'm talking about-" Gobber starts.

"It's just a mild calibration issue-"

"No, no. Iyn. If you ever want to get out there and fight dragons you need to stop all….this."

I let out a frustrated sigh from Gobber's terrible advice as I look down at where Gobber was pointing and say,"You just pointed to all of me." Gobber nods. Is he serious-then again, this is Gobber of course he's serious.

"That's it, stop being all of you." I turn and meet eyes with Gobber casting a glare of my own in his direction.

"Ooh," I say.

"Ooh yeah," Gobber mimics.

I lift my finger pointing at him, "You sir, are playing a dangerous game," I start and use my hands for emphasis,"Keeping this much raw...Vikingness contained, There will consequences!" I shout.

Gobber looks me straight in the eyes, unfazed, "I'll take my chances." He turns away and picks up a dull sword.

"Sword, sharpened. Now." He commands and tosses me the weapon without so much as a glance back. I catch it with a grunt in both hands balancing it in my elbows before heading to the grinder wheel. I slam the weapon down on the wheel watching the sparks jump off idly.

One day, one day, I'll get out there, because killing a dragon is everything around here. A Nadder Head is sure to get me at least noticed, they are long bird like dragons that are often bright colors but shoot deadly spikes from their tails, not the hardest but it is a dragon.

Gronckles are tough, with bee like bodies that can smash through almost anything and they fire lava. All in all, taking down one of those would definitely get me a friend and a little respect.

A Zippleback, exotic, it's a two headed generally green dragon that work together to create massive explosions. So all in all two heads, twice the danger.

And then there's the Monstrous Nightmare, only the best Vikings go after those, they're long red, with only hind legs and large wings but, they have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.

But, the ulimit prize is the dragon no one's ever even seen.

A high pitched wail breaks me from my thoughts and forgetting the sword I race over to the window dropping it as I look out it straining my eyes to spot the silhouette against the stars. We call it the-

"NIGHT FURY!"

"GET DOWN!"

A nearby watch tower explodes with a large bang a purple ring spreading outwards at the explosion as the Night Fury's whistling wings echo in my ears. That thing never steals food never shows itself and never misses. I watch as another tower explodes and lean back into the forge narrowing my eyes.

No one has ever killed a Night Fury that's why I'm going to be the first. I turn back to the sword shaking off my thoughts and pick it up off the ground as Gobber switches his hammer to a battle axe twisting it into place. "Man the forge Iyn; Uh, woman it-never mind. They need me out there." He says, turning to the door, he stops as if the thought has suddenly occurred to him, whirling around to face me.

"Stay. Put. There." He commands, then waves his hand in a I-have-no-time-for-this manner, "You know what I mean." He adds before letting out a war cry and running of to join the rest of Berk quickly disappearing into the thick crowds. Taking orders is one thing, following them through is another.

I wait about two seconds probably less before I whip around and undo the knot on the apron tossing it left as with my right hand I reach for my vest and with my left I grab the handle to the Mangler. I quickly throw on my vest and take the handles to the Mangler and wheel it from the forge. The bola's still in place, hopefully this time it'll work.

I wheel it outside past the villagers waiting next the the blacksmith's shop. They look at me with disbelief and slight irradiated anger.

"Iyn?"

"Where are you going?"

"Come back!"

I ignore them a single destination in mind. A small usually empty ledge near the village. It has a good view of the outer edges of Raven Point and the sky. If I'm going to catch this dragon, I need open air.

I make it to the ledge and slam the handles onto the ground, pull on the strings and latches setting up the Mangler in a few seconds.

And wait.

I know that the Night Fury is still there. I can sense it, feel within myself that it's still soaring on the near cloudless night. It has to still be here.

"Come on," I beg silently, "Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at."

Then I hear it, the high pitched wail that the Night Fury's wings make as they battle against the wind. I tense, watching as another lookout tower is blasted to pieces by the Night Fury's blue purple light blast. The silhouette of the dragon is visible for a second at most, but that is enough, placing all the hope I contain into this bola I pull the trigger.

The force the Mangler makes knocks me of off my feet and I tumble backwards, landing on my back. A high pitch wail fills the air as I scramble to my feet watching and see as the Night Fury's silhouette goes down in the trees, just past Raven Point. "I-I hit it?"

My heart leaps into my throat. "YES, I hit it!" I yell and raise my hands in victory spinning around looking at the village. "Did anybody see that?" I demand. My excitement drains as I hear a crunch. I turn slowly and see the same Monstrous Nightmare that's been trying to kill me all night, raise it's claw from the crushed Mangler. I sigh.

"Except for you."