Gobber's Point of View
I'd seen many things in my years—battlefields drenched in blood, dragons biting clean through shields, even Stoick crying once when Hiccup was just a babe—but nothing, nothing, could've prepared me for what I just saw.
Hiccup—my Hiccup—was standing in the center of the arena shirtless, his swords at his side, his body carved with old wounds and new strength like a warrior reborn from flame and steel.
The scrawny boy I'd spent years protecting, worrying over… was gone.
He moved like smoke and shadow, blades in hand, his body flowing through the Gronckle's attacks with a grace I'd never seen—not in a boy his age, not in full-grown Vikings. It wasn't a fight.
It was a performance.
A dance of death.
Every movement was deliberate. Every step baited the dragon into attacking only to redirect her force with terrifying efficiency. It wasn't brute strength. It was mastery.
And the worst part?
He wasn't even trying to impress us.
This wasn't some show of bravado. He didn't want to be praised. He didn't want to be noticed. He was revealing himself—just enough—because he wanted us to see him for what he really was.
And I—
I didn't know what that was anymore.
That wasn't the boy who couldn't lift an axe. That wasn't the son Stoick complained about night after night.
That was a predator. Patient. Cold. Powerful.
And he had been hiding it all along.
My mouth felt dry. My heart thudded in my chest—not from fear, but from the weight of realization.
What had I missed?
What had Stoick missed?
And more terrifying still… why had he kept it hidden?
Astrid's Point of View
I had trained harder than anyone. Fought tooth and nail to be the best. I thought I understood what strength looked like—what it meant to be a Viking.
But Hiccup…
Hiccup shattered that.
I watched him walk into the ring like he belonged there more than any of us. And when he dropped that tunic—
My breath caught.
His body wasn't soft. It wasn't frail. It was hard. Lean. Scarred. Like steel honed by flame. Those weren't accidental marks. Those were earned.
And then he moved.
By the gods, he moved like nothing I had ever seen. Like wind wrapping around a blade. He didn't fight the Gronckle—he guided her. Every step, every strike, every breath felt like it had been rehearsed a hundred times.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
And I hated how it made me feel.
Because all this time… he had let us believe he was weak. That he was useless. A mistake. And now I didn't know what to believe.
I stared at him as he asked, "Any questions?"
And for once, I had nothing to say.
Snotlout's Point of View
That… wasn't Hiccup.
That couldn't be Hiccup.
Hiccup was a twig! A joke! The kid I picked on because, well, it was easy. The son of the Chief who couldn't hold a hammer straight.
But that thing in the arena?
That was a warrior.
He didn't flinch. He didn't panic. He didn't even try to hurt the dragon—he just… owned her. Like it was natural. Like he was the alpha.
And those scars?
Where the Hel had he gotten those?
No one goes through that kind of pain and smiles afterward.
When he looked at us—at me—I didn't see the runt anymore.
I saw a monster.
And for the first time in my life…
I was afraid of Hiccup.
Fishlegs' Point of View
I—I couldn't move.
I watched him from the ground where I'd fallen, and I—I just couldn't believe it. He shouldn't have been able to do that. That wasn't technique I'd ever read about. That was something else. Something ancient. Primal.
He didn't hesitate.
Even the Gronckle hesitated.
When she lunged, he didn't even blink. He moved like he knew what she was going to do before she did it. Like he had studied her—studied all of us.
And when he took off his shirt…
I almost dropped my notebook.
His body looked like it had survived every species of dragon known to man—and won.
My hands were shaking. Not because of fear.
Because for the first time, I realized…
I didn't know anything about Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.
And maybe I never had.
Ruffnut and Tuffnut's Point of View (combined)
Tuffnut: "Did you see that?"
Ruffnut: "See it? I think I just had a religious experience."
Tuffnut: "That was not Hiccup. That was some sort of forest spirit in a Hiccup-suit."
Ruffnut: "No. No, no. He's real. And he's—hot?"
Tuffnut: "And terrifying. Don't forget terrifying."
Ruffnut: "You think he could teach us that sword thing he did?"
Tuffnut: "You mean the part where he did a flip and then used her tail as a springboard to land behind her? No. No way. We'd die."
Ruffnut: "Totally worth it."
They both stared wide-eyed as Hiccup turned to the group, blades sheathed, expression calm.
"Any questions?" he asked.
And for once in their lives, the twins were completely and utterly silent.