A storm hit the sea. A really devastating one. The Berk fishing boat, caught fire, and all of its passengers jumped off into the raging sea, including a small five year old boy, who happened to be on the boat, because of his father's orders. The raging waves, washed the small, scrawny boy off to the distance. His screams and pleas for help were distorted by the wave's cruel lashes.

Giving up, and accepting his fate of death, the small brunet boy let the sea consume him. He felt himself drift off into unconsciousness and slowly the different shades of blue from the storm, the sea and the rain turned to one colour of darkness.

-000-

A black haired and greyish blue eyed boy, walked along the coast of his island. Hands in pockets and a deep in thought look on his face, the boy was bored out of his wits, and was currently trying to think of something to occupy himself with.

His island, was an island of blood-thirsty savages that wanted nothing more than fight, brawl, fight, spar, fight, sharpen weapons and then they would fight again for a change. Growing up on this island, the boy liked a good fight like the next person, but he was growing bored of it. He was the Chief's son and was born the healthiest and strongest out of that generation. But now, he wanted change, he wanted something different to happen in his long days of boredom other than his father's abuse and his friend's brawling.

A walk on the grey beaches of Outcast Island was a risk he had taken. He preferred to think of it as a challenge. The hunk of grey land floating in the middle of nowhere was a dragon nest itself. Any breed, any time, any day you could find dragons. That was one thing he hated about Outcast Island. He once promised himself, that when his destiny comes knocking and he will become Chief, he would drive away these fire-breathing reptilians, at any cost, no matter how stupid, dangerous or un-Viking-like the plan was.

He let out a long sigh. His grey-blue eyes wandered aimlessly around the beach, until they spotted something. Being curious by nature, he walked up to it, cautiously, though. He took out his weapon of choice, a sword, from his belt, when he was coming near it. He finally saw what it was.

It was a boy, about his age, with auburn hair and a freckled face. His clothes were completely soaked in sea water. He was very skinny and small. His frame was timid and weak, and he looked like he couldn't lift a sword to save his life. It was possible to see his rib cage, through his green shirt, meaning that he must have not eaten in days. He still had a pulse, the Outcast heir concluded, after putting two fingers on the unconscious boy's throat, which meant that he was still alive.

Looking around, the larger boy saw no one. And seeing that this was no threat, he put his trusted sword back in its scabbard. If he left the boy, he would die of starvation or something, if he took the boy to his village, he would be banished or killed immediately; Outcast Island had some sort of hatred for the weak; and he himself, would be shunned by the village and would disappoint his father by showing weakness and compassion.

The grey-blue eyes caught a mould in the side of the cliff. It was small, but it would keep both of them safe from the lightning storm that his nose could sense. He looked off into the horizon and slumped his shoulders. "I have too much of a soft side."

Groaning, he picked the boy up, put the small frame on his back and carried both of them to the small outcrop in the side of the cliff. Once there, he lay the boy on the sandy floor and built a fire. "Well, that should keep us warm until the storm ends." He said, to no one in particular.

He decided to inspect the stranded boy. He pulse was still there, so he was still alive, moving his palm to his chest, he felt something wrong.

His mother was the village healer, so he knew a couple of things. His palm turned into a fist and he hit the boy's chest. At once, the boy bolted up, spitting water out, shock written on his face and breathed heavily, regaining the rhythm of his breathing.

"Hey." The Outcast Heir, said awkwardly, after the skinny boy regained his breathing.

"What- Who … who are you?" He asked, rather timidly.

"My name is Hakon. What's yours?" The raven haired boy sat down close to the fire, after the commotion was over.

"Hiccup." He answered, with a little disgust in his voice. "Where am I?"

"You, my friend, washed up on Outcast Island, unconscious." The grey-blue eyed boy poked the embers of the fire with his sword as the storm outside hit the ground and rain pouring uncontrollably.

"You saved my life." The auburn haired five year old, put two and two together. "Thanks."

"Eh, it was nothing." Hakon shrugged. He pulled out a loaf of bread from his pocket and handed it to the boy. "Here, eat, you're as skinny as a fishbone." He noticed his face turn downcast. "So where are you from?"

"Uh, Berk." He said, bitterly.

"Berk … Berk … Berk … 12 days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing-to-Death?" Hakon raced his brain to find a map of the Archipelago and found the island on it.

"That's the one." Hiccup finished the piece of bread and hugged his knees for warmth, his green eyes remembering, something dark.

Hakon knew more about Berk, than he let it be noticed. His father, Alvin the Treacherous, had made it clear that he hated Berk, and wanted to conquer that island more than conquer the dragons. But Hakon hated his father, so he preferred to think of it as payback … a challenge. Any enemy of his father, he was willing to make his ally.

"So, how did you get washed up in the sea?" Hakon asked after an awkward moment.

"The fishing boat that carried me and my father's men got hit by a storm." He answered.

"Your father must be an influential figurehead then?"

"He's the Chief of Berk." Hiccup said as if it was nothing. In fact, by the way his voice broke when he said that, he was not happy about his father's title and prestige. At once, Hakon realised, that their fathers were bitter rivals and enemies, if either found out about the other, that son would have to face a trail like a criminal on charge of treason, probably get banished or worse and become dishonoured. Of course, that only added to the exciting challenge that Hakon made himself.

"Well, there's something we have in common. My father is the Chief of Outcast Island."

He saw the boy turned rigid. "You're Alvin the Treacherous' son?"

"You're Stoic the Vast's son." He counter-argued, rather playfully.

"Shouldn't you want to kill me or something? Our fathers hate each other worse than Hel, think of the glory that your father would give you if you brought to him the Heir of Berk and Stoic's only living child."

Hakon didn't understand this guy. He was encouraging to be killed. He seemed to want to die more than to live. He thought lowly of himself and so he thought that death was the answer.

"I know your father probably told you that the people that live on Outcast Island are cold, heartless, merciless savages, whose presence is worse than the presence of a dragon, but … I have no intentions of murdering you … today."

"Actually, I don't know much about Outcast Island." Hiccup admitted.

"Really? Your father doesn't teach you about the other tribes? You're the Berk Heir, you should know about all the Viking Tribes and your Tribe's relations to them like the back of your hand."

"Oh please, my father doesn't bother much with me. He's way too busy for a talking fishbone, like me …" Hiccup's next speech was in a Scottish accent. "Excuse me, barmaid, I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring, I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone." Hakon laughed at the imitation. Hiccup smiled that at least someone found his dry humour funny, other than Gobber. "What about you?"

"Eh, Alvin the Treacherous sounds more like this." Hakon adjusted his voice to his father's accent. "Pull yourself together! You're embarrassing me! Get it right this time or you know what the punishments will be! Honestly, you sicken me! And this is my Heir. No cunning, no surprise, no masterminded plan. And you call yourself my Heir!"

"Well at least you can lift a sword and you're not a trouble magnate. As soon as I step out of my own house, someone already accuses me of something, and usually it isn't even my fault."

"Yeah, well at least, your people have lost hope on you and don't come rushing to you with their stupid expectations. 'Hakon, be more like your father!' or 'Hakon you should memorized these moves when you were 2, like your father!', oh no, this is the ultimate one, 'The Tribe will never look up to you if your not more bloodthirsty or cruel, now get your act together.' I'm only five and they're already expecting me to slit a Monstrous Nightmare's guts." It was like they were competing over whose father was the worst.

"Another thing we have in common then, we are not like our dads." Hiccup smiled.

"There, I'm rubbing off on you already." Hakon gently punched the Berk Heir's shoulder, careful to not actually injure him and break the newfound bond of trust.

"What are your friends like?" Hiccup asked, after several moments of appreciated silence.

"Brute, impossible, violent. A little too violent, even for Vikings." Hakon answered. It felt great, for some reason, to have a friend that wasn't obsessed with fighting, murdering or anything as such. "You?"

"Don't have any." His expression turned dark again. "Un-average Vikings don't get many friends. They get a gang of bullies instead."

"Sorry, about that." Hakon felt bad for this guy, it must be difficult not having your father to lean on and not having any friends to have your back. "What about your mom?"

"She vanished a couple of years ago. I never saw her again."

Ok, now that was the breaking point. Hakon, found it his task to help this guy. He literally had no one for him. No father. No mother. No friends. He once thought that his life was miserable, as Alvin used all method to make sure he was obedient. But this guy's situation was twice as worse.

"Must be hard. Well, if it makes ya feel better, you do have one friend."

Their eyes met and their bond of friendship was sealed.

"Thanks."

"No problem."