Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Stop!”

Astrid’s harsh voice rings across the arena. By all accounts—years, necessity, hour—it should be empty. But instead, she is faced with a phantom.

“Don’t move another inch .” Astrid hisses, readjusting her grip on her crossbow. 

Stones are still skittering from the force of her footsteps. She’d taken quite the sprint down here. Thanks to years of practice, her words betray no hint of the heaving of her lungs. Unfortunately, they don’t quite have the same effect as they do on the village’s children.

Before her is a shadow of a man. His shoulders raise to his chin, as he slowly turns on one heel to her—one hand raised as a universal sign to wait . Faced with him fully, he’s… nothing imposing, actually. Barely any taller than her, barely any broader than her, and from her estimate, completely unarmed.

It’s what he’s wearing that sets her on edge. It’s a struggle to make out his form, as his pitch black leathers bleed into the darkened stone walls. She’s never seen a suit quite like it before. All layered with straps and gizmos—telling a story she isn’t equipped to understand. 

And that mask he wears… It leaves only holes for his eyes, which in the dark appear to be endless voids. She never trusts anyone who hides their face. Even the metal mask Gobber sometimes wears at the forge sets her on edge. 

But it’s not that simple fact that sends every hair on her body standing so far on edge that they’re about to pull free. No, this is something primal. Right at the base of her skull sits this heavy tugging feeling, trying to yank her out and away from this place. It’s a feeling she remembers

It’s the feeling of being stalked by a dragon.

The shadows begin to compress and slither behind the masked man, solidifying like water into slush into ice. A tail appears first, curling from the man’s feet with a snap. Then wings, curving right above his head. And eyes, green and slitted, staring at her like it holds her life in its hands. 

She does not fear dragons. Not anymore. Not even ones of moving shadow, and flicking tail, and raised claw, and snarling teeth. Not even ones of myth, and legend, and nightmare. 

It clicks into place in one smooth motion. 

“ You’re the so-called Dragon Master?” Astrid demands, incredulous. 

That doesn’t quite sit right, seeing as the man of legend is, by varying accounts, no less than seven feet tall—closer to eight, really—wrapped in dragon skin, mask dripping with blood, as a sword of fire burns through anyone foolish enough to trap dragons in his waters. This guy at the end of her crossbow bolt? He is not him.

But she’s only ever heard of one beast like the one currently staring her down. Blacker than night itself, rumbling with lightning, faster than the eye can trace. The King of all Beasts some call it—the Night Fury. 

And suddenly, Astrid is wavering. It occurs to her all at once. The moon has whittled itself away over the last weeks, leaving them in darkness. Clouds cover the stars, stealing what little light they might hold on to. It’s a night made for darkness, a night made for bandits made of shadow. This was all planned.

Overhead, the chains are still creaking and sparking from where they were blasted open. If Astrid weren’t so paranoid, no one would be here to stop this. She is all that stands in his way.

The Dragon Master targets dragon trappers, traders, hunters. It’s said he will blow entire glaciers apart to punish those he deem irredeemable. There is nothing he won’t do to free a dragon. Ships, strongholds, seas be damned. 

Pray, they say, pray lest he ever find you. If he does, throw yourself at his feet and offer yourself as his disciple, ready to learn and be redeemed. Should he be in a merciful mood, perhaps you will be saved from the fate of so many—devoured inch by precious inch by his unholy pet.

Now he has come to Berk, where Astrid has a blue Nadder caged not five feet from him.

✧

Astrid wakes on the day of the final exam simmering. It should be her out there. Freshly sharpened axe in hand as she stares down the Monstrous Nightmare, before cleanly taking its head. 

But no. It’s the chief’s scrawny brat instead.

She storms out into the woods for a while, alternating between throwing her axe into blameless trees, and resharpening its blade, hoping to cut even further. None of it changes her reality.

When she returns to the village, she finds that reality shattered anyhow.

Hiccup is missing. 

The chief woke up, and his son wasn’t there. He wasn’t with Gobber either, nor any of their classmates—not even darling old Gothi had given him shelter. No one really minded at first. Hiccup was known for running off doing gods know what. 

But then the time for the exam comes and passes. Then evening does the same. Then another, and another. And still, no sign of him.

On the third day, Stoick begins to show his worry. It can no longer be chalked up to a case of cold feet, nor Hiccup’s wandering attention. 

A search party is sent out. Their best hunters track the footprints from the back of the Chief’s hut out to the forest, and into a cove. Then, they vanish. 

Intermingled are the claw prints of a dragon.

It’s quite obvious what happened. Poor little Hiccup met the same fate as his mother—carried away as some dragon’s catch of the day. But unlike Valka, Stoick insists that Hiccup is still out there, that somehow he survived and will return to them. No one dared wake him from the daydream.

Quite silently, the village mourns.

✧

Somewhere along the way, Astrid came to… replace Hiccup. She quickly took her place as top of the class once more. Only she was not allowed the dignity of a final exam—Stoick put the event on hold until Hiccup’s eventual ‘return.’ The Monstrous Nightmare he was meant to kill remains in its cage.

Years pass, and the chief starts looking to Astrid for advice. Then he begins delegating tasks. It’s quietly understood that she is the new heir to the chiefdom of Berk. 

At some point, Astrid forgot about Hiccup entirely.

✧

Astrid never gets her chance to kill a dragon.

She’s still treated as a child without the final exam, and all the village refuses her when she takes up arms during the raids. Just like always, she’s relegated to firefighting duty. She loathes it.

Before she gets up the courage to voice her protests to the Chief, the storm comes.

They don’t feel it on Berk. They’re simply spectators, watching the pitch black clouds roil over Helheim’s Gate—and the supposed dragon nest. That in itself is nothing notable. What sends the fisherman returning to shore shaking is the lightning. 

When the Chief’s retinue head out on their own boat, Astrid slipping onboard during the chaos, they’re left speechless. The black clouds do indeed flicker with light. It’s impossible, but Astrid will swear she could feel the force of the blasts even from that distance. And in the clouds…

It’s unlike their worst myths, even the ones they cannot tell the children lest they frighten them half to death. Shadowed in the clouds is a beast the size of a mountain, wings the span of Berk itself. Its fire shines an ominous orange, and the wind bears the scalding heat of it.

Men puke over the side. Those left with their dinners intact pray to the gods for mercy. Others swear the end times are here, that this dragon will come for them and swallow the village whole. Astrid stands at the back of the boat, and she cries.

But then, with a moan that causes breaks in the waves, the monstrous dragon falls from the sky in a ball of fire. The force of it colliding with the ground causes Astrid’s teeth to chatter. Without question, they just watched a creature from Hel itself die.

There is no cheer upon the boat. Only a still fear as they row back to shore. No one speaks of what they saw upon their return. Stoick grumbles to the curious spectators that the fishermen have lost what little was left of their minds.

That night, Astrid can’t sleep. 

She will wonder for years in fear of what sort of beast could bring that monster down.

✧

After the storm, the dragons just… vanish.

There are no more raids. Their livestock are safe. The houses are allowed to grow old and rotten. No more boats need be burned.

The vermin don’t disappear entirely. No, they’re still seen off the coasts, dredging fish up from the depths. Children are warned not to go wandering into the woods, lest they find one napping. Snotlout gets pooped on by one once. Somehow, Astrid laughs.

But there’s no more death, no more fighting, no more struggle for control. They learn to… cohabitate. For the first time in any of their lives, there’s peace.

✧

Not long after, they wake to a hole blasted in the chains of the arena, the cages left open and empty.

Everyone is too relieved to be rid of the dragons to care.

✧

With the war come to a sudden, shocking standstill, Berk is allowed to heal. And then it finds its strength. Then it begins to grow. 

Longboats that were once designated for demise within Helheim’s Gate are now sent to distant shores, trading surplus weapons that were once vital. They come back with meats, and cheeses, and fabric, and paper, and dye. They return with leather, and decorated blades, and wooden toys. But most of all, they come bearing stories. 

Astrid doesn’t remember the first time she heard of him. Nor the second. Nor the third. Nor the latest. But somehow, the tale of the Dragon Master found its way into the folklore of the village.

Traders from far will warn of a man clad in dragon skin, face covered, moving like a walking shadow. With him, a shadow of his own. If he or his beast smell a single drop of dragon blood on you or your weapon, they will burn you right where you stand. And if you catch him on a bad day, he’ll take the whole village down with you.

The version the Chief and his council hear, directly from their own trusted traders, is that of a… dragon vigilante. Somehow, someone has tamed a beast. Now, he rides it about the Archipelago hunting those in the dragon business and leaves them physically scarred and whimpering. Despite the tall tales, he is very, very real. 

Stories come to them frequently. How the Dragon Master freed a flock of Terrible Terrors from being barbecued, or burned a hunter’s cart of dragon skins, or helped a poor fisherman free his boat from the ice. It’s harmless enough. Except that the children have a new hero, and now yell protestations whenever the adults guffaw about dragons on the coastline.

Astrid doesn’t think much of it. The stories are good entertainment during dinners in the Great Hall. It’s not something to worry about, they’re just a tiny island village. Besides, they’ve learned to leave the dragons well enough alone. There’s no reason for the ghost of the north to bother them.

✧

It takes a while for Stoick to really, truly accept it.

They found no blood, he would argue. There were no clothing scraps, he would insist. If Hiccup were truly gone, there would be some sign, wouldn’t there? It was a plea.

But over the years, slowly, Stoick comes to it. His son is dead and gone. Taken in the same way that his dear wife was. The heir he had just begun to grow proud of would never get to join him in battle. Would he even make it to Valhalla? 

There is no moment that Astrid realizes he’s accepted it. Nor is there one where she realizes how angry he is. It starts when he doesn’t shout at the fishermen telling tales of tormenting Gronckles sleeping on the beach. From there, he doesn’t lecture about keeping the peace when hunters return with Nadder spikes and a smile, boasting about chasing one off. He stands and watches with the rest of them as the twins dangle a Terrible Terror over an ice bath, chuckling as it squeals. 

Astrid has to wonder if this is truly acceptance.

✧

The tallest of the mountain scraping tall tales of the Dragon Master comes to them with the first shipment of spring. Their favorite storyteller, Johann, spins the story that the Dragon Master took down Drago Bludvist himself. Even Stoick gives a good disbelieving laugh to that. 

But then, another trader comes bearing the story. And another. And another, and soon every trader of the season is telling them the same thing. Each one is more serious than the last. As if the knowledge is really, truly setting in for them too. The last of them are reduced to whispering the news on the dock, wide-eyed to the skies like the Dragon Master himself will come strike them down for spreading tell.

By the time the waters begin to freeze over again, the Chief is in quite a sour mood indeed.

✧

Once the worst of the freeze has let up, something has changed in Stoick. There’s… anger in him that Astrid hasn’t seen since she was a girl. He calls for her, for Gobber, for the best trackers and trappers in the tribe. 

There’s a Deadly Nadder that sometimes enjoys perching at the peak of Gothi’s spire. It’s putting their most important elder at risk, Stoick insists. They cannot allow the dragons to take anything else from them, and it’s truly only a matter of time. They must strike first. 

By this point, the other adults are licking their chops, bloodlust in their eyes. Even despite her reservations, Astrid finds herself caught up in it too. The Chief has that effect on people. He makes them believe in something.

They head out into the woods. It’s not hard to find the tracks. Dragon’s aren’t known for being covert in their comings and goings. Besides, by Astrid’s count there’s only a few Nadderheads that have taken up permanent residence on the island. No matter where the trail leads, they’re likely to find their quarry.

Not that Astrid thinks it will particularly matter. At this point, any dragon will do, she thinks. They could tie two Terrible Terrors together by the tail and Stoick would throw a feast for them. 

It’s easy enough to find the dragon—they don’t go out of their way to hide their presences anymore. Astrid knows it’s the correct one based on how Stoick described its coloring. She knows it more personally from the scar she left on its beak during arena training.

To a newcomer, it may seem surprisingly easy to trap dragons. That’s because, frankly, it is. They’re big, hungry, instinct driven creatures. With enough knowledge—which the senior warriors of their tribe certainly have—the scaly thing is wrapped up in just under an hour. 

As they begin dragging it back to the village, Astrid finds herself trailing behind. She worries over all the things that the Chief might be planning to do with the poor beast. Moreover, what kind of things the village might be willing to do to it.

She’ll just have to keep an eye on things…

Chapter Text

Unsure of what he could possibly say, Hiccup settles for raising his hands in surrender.

Really, he hates that nickname. The Dragon Master , yeah right. As if most of the overgrown lizards don’t try to blast his head off when he’s busting the traps they’re stuck in. The only thing he’s a master of is dodging tail attacks.

But, whether he likes it or not, it’s stuck. His legend has spread from the Archipelago, to the north, to the end of the world… Which is really, really inconvenient. Sometimes he just wants to get in, and get out. No… pulling him aside and confronting him about his past deeds, and cowering from him in fear.

This though… This is different. 

This is Berk.

Despite the years—six, his mind provides without his request, it’s been six long years—he recognizes Astrid on sight. She’s hard to forget. That lightly golden hair of hers is still half falling in her face, the rest pulled into a braid over her shoulder. She’s still got the pauldrons, even if they’re buried in a mantle of fur. And she’s still staring him down like she’s about to flay him and turn him inside out. Some things never change.

Except she doesn’t know it’s him. And if he has any choice in the matter, it’ll stay that way. All he needs to do is get the Nadder, and get out… Should be easy. That’s what he thought when he came here, at least. Now he’s got a crossbow in his face.

Carefully, Hiccup takes a step back. One of his hands creeps down to Toothless’s back, keeping him in check. He’d never attack without Hiccup’s okay. Unless he gets shot. Then he honestly isn’t sure what Toothless would do. Well, that thought makes getting his priorities in order pretty easy.

“Woah now,” Hiccup pitches his voice down slightly, since he’s been told—despite his protests—that his voice hasn’t changed all that much since he left. “No need for all that, right? Can’t we just have a discussion here? Like reasonable adults?” 

Wrong thing to say, Astrid’s eyes narrow dangerously. 

“What are you doing on my island?” She demands. 

Her island? Well, she’d laugh knowing he’s the Chief’s son… Actually, no, she’d probably shoot him for it. Yeah, it’s seeming better by the second to keep that key piece of information to himself.

“Look, I’m just here for the Nadderhead.” Hiccup placates, hands back in the air. “Just let me get her out of this dank dungeon, and me and my friend will be on our merry way. And no need for any incendiary punishment! Sound good?” 

She readjusts her grip on her crossbow. “No.” 

Hiccup deflates. “C’mon, what do you even need her for? She didn’t mean any harm, she just wandered too close is all. She’s overly friendly towards humans, even despite bad past experiences—you wouldn’t get it.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Now, I don’t want it to come to this, but if you don’t let her go, I’m gonna have to go all… Dragon Master on this place. The whole nine yards. Burning villages, calling upon dragons to do my bidding, eating babies—or whatever. I’ll go there!” 

“Not if I put this bolt right between your eyes right here, right now.” 

Normally he’d call the bluff, but uh, no, from the sound of her voice she is very much serious. Apparently, Toothless senses it too. He growls harshly, causing her to startle and drop her aim. Just as Hiccup is about to pat him to stand down, his tail flicks. 

Even in the darkness, the red of his prosthetic tail fin flashes. In one swift breath, Astrid retakes her stance, readjusts her aim, and fires. The wall cracks under the force of the fired bolt.

And Toothless yelps. 

Without thinking, Hiccup draws his fire sword to make himself a bigger threat. In contradiction to this, he turns and runs to the wall, where Toothless’s tail is currently pinned. Luckily, he doesn’t need to be concerned about his own safety, as Toothless is now growling and growing a warning fire at the back of his throat. 

The damage is clearly visible in the light of his blade’s fire. Hiccup hisses draconic curses under his breath. She’s a good shot, he’ll give her that. The bolt lodged cleanly in the eye of the skull decorating Toothless’s leather tailfin. A massive gash has been carved in the material. This will be a big repair job—bigger than a thread and needle can handle. 

Hiccup curses a few more times, pulling the bolt free with one hand—freeing his dragon. Out of the corner of his eye, he meets Toothless’s gaze. A million and one words are shared between them. Once he’s sure they’re on the same page, Hiccup turns back to Astrid.

“Fine.” Hiccup spits, tossing the bolt aside. His sword still sputters with heat. “You want to play it that way? I’ll play. Now, take me to your Chief, or this whole island goes up like a funeral pyre.” 

✦

Guilt tries to weigh Hiccup into the ground as Toothless pushes them into the air. They’re pulled up over the lip of the cove, over the trees, over the clouds and into the horizon. Toothless, proving himself so wonderfully reliable, takes Hiccup peacefully away from this awful day, this awful place, from a Monstrous Nightmare with a death sentence, and a father that can only regard him as a traitor.

It wasn’t an easy idea. He’d wrestled with it since the final exam was announced. Tossed and turned over it through many a sleepless night. Stared it down as he looked into the eyes of Gobber, of Astrid, of his classmates, of his father. And he came to only one conclusion.

He doesn’t belong here anymore.

Maybe he never did.

Hiccup looks down as they reach a break in the clouds, Toothless leveling out of his rise with a click of Hiccup’s pedal. From up here, he can see the whole of Berk. The forests he’s explored without permission. The bay he and his father had once gone swimming in on a warm day. The village that raised him, silent and still.

It’s better this way. He knows it is. So why does it hurt so much?

✦

Being on their own isn’t so bad. They fly, and fly as long as Toothless’s wings will let them. When they’re forced to be grounded, they eat and play and embrace. Hiccup finds that it’s harder than he thought it would be to find Toothless in the dark after a midnight piss.

Of course, the only reason they survive at all is because of the dragon. He dredges up fish for them to eat, and lights a fire for Hiccup to cook his. From the air, he’s able to locate fresh water for them. With his apparent dominance, they’re able to win any dispute with any wandering dragon they cross. 

Together, they come across lands that Hiccup couldn’t have even imagined. They find islands lush with million colored flowers, villages built into the sides of glaciers, forests of a soft yellow. As they go, Hiccup will draw massive maps in the sand to track their progress. Berk still manages to sit at its center.

It’s never lonely, just the two of them. Hiccup lets his inner monologue slip, because he quickly finds that Toothless will never tell him to shut up. Everyday Hiccup feels like he learns to understand Toothless more. They talk and they press together in the cold and they play and they laugh. It’s more than enough, because it’s more than Hiccup has ever had.

✦

The only struggle is the one thing that Hiccup had always taken for granted: human goods. 

They scavenge what they can from shipwrecks, encampments, and empty hunting outposts. Hiccup comes to keep a trove of metal bits, fabric scraps, and balls of mismatched thread. It’s a far cry from his previous, unfettered access to the village’s store houses.

The meager supplies make repairs hard, and upgrades near impossible. Toothless’s tail begins to show signs of wear. The locking mechanism is getting loose. If he’s not crafty, they’re going to fall right out of the air.

✦

It’s been nine months—because despite it all, Hiccup still keeps track—when she finds them.

They’re flying above the clouds, like they do so often. It’s only notable because they’re just turned tail to yet another outpost broken and encased by ice. Sites like that are scattered all around this region. Toothless is weirdly interested in them, wanting to stay and smell, but they give Hiccup a bad feeling.

He’s not paying much attention, too busy fidgeting with his harness like he does when he’s lost in thought. Under him, Toothless lets out a low moan of warning. Hiccup doesn’t take it too seriously, after one too many times of Toothless doing the same thing over nearby flocks of harmless Timberjacks. He’s started abusing his power to make Hiccup look at something cool he spies on the horizon.

It’s not until the horned helmet comes piercing over the clouds in his periphery that Hiccup sits up and takes notice. There’s a figure standing there, armored in strange leathers from head to toe, just staring at him. From the movement under their feet and the disruption of the clouds, they’re on the back of a dragon .

Hiccup is left stunned. He had no idea there were others who rode dragons. It seemed exclusive to him and Toothless. But before he can think of anything to say to them, they’re disappearing under the clouds.

Then, Hiccup is being plucked from the back of his dragon, Toothless is falling into the ice, and Hiccup screams.

✦

She claims to be his lost mother, Valka. But that doesn’t make sense to him, because he’s spent the last sixteen years of his life with the knowledge she was carried off and eaten by dragons. Except he can’t deny that he… looks like her. That there’s no other way she could’ve known his name. Or recognized his scar. And there is no other reason she knows any of the things that she seems to know about him.

They’re the same, too, he sees. She cares for dragons in the same way he does. See herself in them the way he does. Understands them in a way that humans just never made sense. He sees her move among her horde, and he sees himself in another, future life. It makes his chest ache something hopeful.

She shows him the nest. A beautiful thing, made of ice from its Alpha, growing green and warm, and overflowing with dragons of every color. They fly together and eat together and play together, and Hiccup feels all the belonging he’s felt with Toothless these past months amplified tenfold.

She asks him to stay. 

He stays.

✦

Together, mother and son, they mourn the tragedy of their homeland.

It’s something only she can understand, he realizes. Even Toothless, as dear and wonderful and the same as he is, cannot comprehend that kind of loss. Knowing that home stands against everything Hiccup—and his mother—have come to believe, and there is nothing he can do about it. Because really, he was never important enough to change anything.

Even his mother, Chieftess and mother of the heir couldn’t do it. Maybe some things just can’t be changed. Well, some people, more like…

It brings a kind of hollowness to Hiccup’s heart, knowing that the war will continue. Dragons and humans alike will cut each other to pieces… for what? Why does it have to be like that, why can’t they just—

His mother tells him to drop it.

✦

They go out together, patrolling from the skies for hunters and trappers. 

Hiccup quickly proves himself useful at getting dragon traps apart. Better than his mother could ever do, she will insist, and Hiccup will shrink in on himself and accuse her of flattery. But nonetheless, the rescued dragons end up with less severe wounds. His mother teaches him how to treat them.

For the first time in his life, Hiccup thinks he’s found some of that Viking ruthlessness he’s always been missing. In the face of those who do dragons wrong he… finds he doesn’t care. It’s okay if Toothless’s blast sends them careening into the frozen ocean. It’s okay if they end up burned and scarred. It’s okay if they cry that their bosses will have their heads for this.

They brought it on themselves.

✦

But on every triumphant flight back to the nest, Hiccup can’t help but think of home—Berk, that is. 

Because yes, they fight, and they trap, and they kill dragons. Except they don’t ask for it. They don’t seek the beasts out. Nor do they goad, or torment, or torture them. They’re just… trying to survive.

The dragons come to them . Hiccup has seen it his whole life. They come in the night, and they attack outright. Always they target the food stocks, hardly caring about humans until they come to defend them. And yes, any dragon will attack when provoked, but…

It’s so entirely polar to what Hiccup has seen from dragons this past year. They are kind, intelligent, friendly beasts. They’re curious about humans, but not outright hostile. Most never encounter humans at all, because at the end of the day, they can hunt for themselves. There’s no need to raid humans—for food, or for anything else.

One of the few times Hiccup gets his mother to talk about it, he asks her what she thinks is going on. She provides only one word. Alpha. It all clicks into place without any other help from her.

The dragons around Berk must be controlled by some… some evil Alpha that demands they attack the village. They have no say in the matter. Of course , it’s the only thing that makes sense. Why else would they do something so against their nature? 

His mother seems content to leave it there, but Hiccup… like so many things in his life—all the things that have gotten him in trouble—Hiccup just can’t let it go.

✦

While yes, he and Toothless live and hunt and thrive with the flock, they aren’t bound by it. Sometimes they just need some air. Or more accurately, sometimes Toothless just needs to fly . And well, Hiccup too.

They’ve deduced that his mother doesn’t really seem to mind their absence—as long as they return with some grand tale of rescuing dragons. They continuously push it, seeing how long they can stay away without drawing reprimand. She seems to get worried after a day or two, so they try not to stray much longer than that.

And well, she never really digs into where they’ve been, so if their adventures take them closer and closer to the isles around Berk, she doesn’t need to concern herself with that. They’re not really sticking around there, anyways. It’s just on the way to… to places they really like to go! Like, uhm, the forests! And glaciers, and ice oceans, and uh… everything that is everywhere around here.

It’s not until the weather begins to warm up that Hiccup finally gets the courage to journey to Helheim’s Gate. His father’s old nemesis. How many Berkians sailed and died there in the fog? Maybe Hiccup’s next in line. Except he’s not a Berkian anymore, he’s not .

Toothless doesn’t like it in the fog—head twisting and ears twitching and pupils slitting. They don’t linger long. But as they fly back to the nest, Hiccup can tell that now he’s gotten Toothless curious too.

They return. They begin to follow those sounds and feelings and instincts that try to draw Toothless deeper and deeper. But it makes Hiccup nervous, some part of him worried he’ll lose Toothless to the Alpha forever, so they don’t follow it all the way. Really, Hiccup is just trying to kid himself into believing that they’re not doing this.

One day, Toothless pushes them further—ignoring Hiccup’s tug on his saddle—and the island comes erupting up before them. The whole thing shudders and hums with dragon life. Hiccup can only gap at the mountain before them, towering through the fog. 

Dragons are flooding into a crack in the stone, and Toothless quickly dives into their ranks. All Hiccup can do is flatten himself against Toothless’s back and pray the hostile dragons do not see him. All around their claws are leaking blood, clasping sheep and goats and fish and bits that look a little bit like… He’s too sick to look closer. As they dive into the sweltering cavern, Hiccup pulls relentlessly on Toothless’s saddle, begging to turn back. 

There, at the heart of the mountain, they find her. Settled deep in a smoking pit, she gorges herself on her flock’s hunt. When that isn’t enough, she turns to the flock itself. Hiccup’s stomach turns, spying the dragon bones left in her rows upon rows of bloodied teeth. 

With the rest of the dragons, they flee.

✦

They don’t go back for a long time after that, mystery temporarily solved. Neither he nor Toothless make any sign of it, but he knows they’re both just too plain scared to. Not to mention paralyzingly helpless. Yay, they know what’s wrong now. What are they supposed to do about it? 

His only idea is to try and convince his mother, get her and the flock on board. Maybe even the Bewilderbeast would come, and they could get a little Alpha against Alpha action. But why would she agree to that? Putting the whole flock, and their beloved King, at risk for an island she’s frozen her heart to.

So, they keep it to themselves, and they toil.

✦

It’s been exactly a year since Hiccup left Berk, and he’s feeling… something about it.

They fly to the little island village, right at dawn. Keeping well into the clouds, they fly over the isle. It’s clear to see in the low morning light, thanks to all the fire. Buildings are sloughing to ash. Dragon bodies are visible even from the air. There’s the cry of a woman—a mother, no doubt—screaming with loss.

Resolve builds in Hiccup all at once. He tightens his grip on Toothless’s saddle, leaning into him and pulling them towards the fog. His actions are mostly meaningless, as Toothless was already banking that way anyway. 

He doesn’t really have a plan per se—when does he ever—but they head for the nest anyways. His only thought is to try and change that thing’s mind. Like maybe if he yells at it for long enough, something will get through. Or Toothless, maybe Toothless can talk to it and—and…

They fly into the mountain in one swift motion. Toothless streaks inside, billowing his wings out to slow down only once they reach the cavern. They swing around to perch on one of the ledges, looking down into the pit. Of course, there’s nothing to see. But they know better.

Toothless screeches down in the smoke. A set of three eyes appears from the haze. They’re filled with hate. Any hope of talking things out is abandoned as Toothless sends a white hot burst of flame directly into the thing’s face. It roars in pain, a sound so loud and fateful that Hiccup’s ears will ring for the rest of the fight. 

As the ground begins to rumble, Toothless makes a break for the tunnel they just entered from. He flies, fast as ever, and the mountain begins to come down around them. The Alpha has clawed herself free, ready to pick Toothless and Hiccup out of the air for breakfast. 

But Toothless won’t let up. He spits burst after burst of fire into her. All the while, Hiccup hangs on, gripping hard as he clicks the tailfin into its proper place. Eventually, Toothless hits her with enough force to send her careening to the ground. It’s silent for a moment, and Hiccup wonders if that was really it.

Then, her wings unfurl.

Hiccup pulls them up, up, up into the forming storm, so that they might disappear. There’s no thought of escape now. Only a quiet, simmering anger as he suddenly yearns for revenge. Three hundred years his people have been fighting and dying—all because of her . How many dragons were taken as collateral in the process? How many boats burned?

She takes to the skies and they make her pay for it, relentless with Toothless’s blasts. In the dark clouds, she can’t catch even a tailfin of them. Fed up with this, she blasts her fire wildly. It catches their one true weakness—Toothless’s prosthetic tail.

As the leather burns away, Hiccup drives Toothless downward, hoping, praying, begging that the dragon trust him. It’s not even a question for Toothless. Without hesitation he follows Hiccup’s instruction, listening intently to his plan. 

The dragon Queen chases them, down, down, down. She’s close now—Toothless is quickly losing speed without his other tailfin. Hiccup feels the wind of her jaws closing around the air just feet from his head. He pushes closer to Toothless, glad that if he has to die, it will be alongside his best friend. 

She inhales sharply, ready to burn them to a crisp. At Hiccup’s command, Toothless whirls around, and blasts her at the back of the throat. Immediately, she cries as her wings begin to burn, as her insides melt, as her eyes bleed.

Caught up in her wind, Hiccup and Toothless whirl around her. The tailfin is gone, but they can do this. They can do it, they can do it, they have to do it. And for a second they are. Then, her blocky tail appears. 

Hiccup loses his grip on Toothless, falling, falling, falling.

His world blacks out just as he begins to feel himself burn.

✦

The dragons carry them home, one leg lighter.

✦

When he wakes up, his mother is there. Memories returning quickly, he expects her to chastise, to yell, to ground him—quite literally. But when he glances over to her, he sees her eyes overflow. She sobs, throwing herself over him where he’s settled in a nest on the floor. For a moment, he doesn’t even dare to breathe.

How could he do that, she demands. How could he scare her like that? She could’ve lost him, she almost lost him . Don’t do that again, don’t ever do something like that again, please. Please, please. 

Hiccup remembers the first time he heard the grieving cry of a mother, back when he was only a child. He remembers every single time he’s heard it since. He remembers hearing it over Berk that morning, right before he threw himself at the maw of a beast. 

He holds her back, whispering apologies and promises in equal measure.

✦

By the time they got back to the nest, his leg was nothing but a burnt stump. His mother did what she could for him. At the very least she kept the burns that crawl up his leg, and mar his back from getting infected. But she’s never built a prosthetic before, not even for a dragon. It’s a lot easier to lose a leg when you have four.

She and Toothless—who is very happy to see him awake and refuses to leave his side even to use the restroom—help him out. He leans and hops and hobbles with Toothless at his side. His mother fetches pieces and parts for him from her stores of veritable junk. It’s not enough, but it has to be.

The other dragons help. Once they realize that Toothless can’t fly, they bring food for the both of them. At Valka’s command, some of them venture out to scavenge for parts. They bring driftwood and metal grates and jumbles of rope. His mother even does the unthinkable, venturing back to human civilization to trade for a piece of leather when Hiccup complains about the likelihood of finding one.

He builds his new leg and Toothless’s new tail in tandem. They fit together like puzzle pieces, after all. The new leather for Toothless’s tail is dyed bright red, with a skull painted on, but once it's cut and folded, Hiccup doesn’t hate it. Toothless is just excited to fly again. The wooden stump his metal foot is attached to is charred black. Toothless doesn’t mind it. Hiccup is just excited to walk again.

And soon enough, both their wishes are granted. 

They walk, they fly, they heal.

✦

For their first grand adventure once they’re ready to fly, they return to Berk. Bursting open the chain link covering, Hiccup enters the dragon battling arena once more under the dead of a moonless night. Muscle memory working overtime, he releases each dragon cage. Whether because of bad memories or sheer fear of humans, the dragons all skitter away and fly into the darkness. Hiccup is just glad to see them go.

✦

For years after, Hiccup doesn’t stray again. Not in that direction, anyway. With the killing of the Queen, Berk is a closed book in his mind. It falls further and further from thought with every passing day. He begins to understand his mother.

Together, they continue rescuing dragons. The traps get worse. The hunters more desperate. The wounded dragons more flighty. Every encounter brings a new challenge, a new danger. 

And more and more, he continues to advise his mother to stay behind. The dragons need her. She is a carer, and a healer, and a mother to them all. Without her, he fears the flock would crumble. And well, Hiccup would crumble along with it.

For so long, she resists him. But when she’s shot down from Cloudjumper, all tied up in trapper netting, Hiccup just about loses it. She ends up being alright, just scratched up and left with a broken arm. The trappers are less so, having felt the rage of Night Fury and rider alike. 

With her arm out of commission, she’s forced to stay behind and dedicate more time to rehabilitating the dragons. It heals slowly, but she seems to see the point to his arguments for her to stay. There’s no date when it’s deemed to be healed. And they never declare it so, silently agreeing to let Valka stay behind while Hiccup and Toothless deal with all that’s out there .

✦

They do deal with it. Quite well, in fact. So well that they attract the attention of one Drago Bludvist. He corners the dragon and rider once or twice, calling Hiccup ‘Dragon Master’ and scoffing at him. All the while he declares himself a king and insists that all dragons are under his control. Hiccup thinks he’s a bit stupid, frankly.

But he tries. He argues and insists that Drago’s wrong about dragons. That he doesn’t need his Dragon Army and the Alpha he keeps in chains deserves to be free with his own nest. Drago usually ends up shooting at him over it. Hiccup doesn’t give up hope.

Somewhere along the way, he goes too far. Apparently, Drago is just plain fed up with him. The madman seeks out the nest. Ambushes them when they least expect it. Dragons get caught up in his traps. Catapults chip away at the icy walls. Valka is forced to call upon the Alpha to defend his own.

Hiccup and Toothless gladly join the fight.

It all seems to be going well until Drago calls up his own chained Alpha from the seas. The Bewilderbeast is haggard, and sad looking, but it obeys. Just like the dragons that surrounded Berk all Hiccup’s life, it has no choice.

Hiccup and Toothless do what they can to help the Alpha, but their attention is split as more of their flock mates fall into traps, as his mother is once again thrown from her dragon, as dragons in the Dragon Army cry and keen.

In a split second they weren’t looking out for it, their Alpha falls. The wail it lets out, accompanied by the grief stricken roaring of his flock, stops Hiccup and Toothless midair. Under him, Toothless mewls meekly at the sight, and Hiccup hardens himself.

He finds Drago on the ground, sauntering easily between dragon traps. His smile is smug. He’s already decided he’s won. Well, not if Hiccup has something to say about it.

In the years after, Hiccup will wish he had just barreled the wretched man over with Toothless’s claws—letting the dragon go free and blast him directly in the face with his fire. But right then, Hiccup is still too kind. So instead, he yells out for this to stop, hopping off his dragon right in front of Drago.

The man laughs at him. Declares his victory outright, and advises that if Hiccup and Toothless fly away right now, they might make it a few years before Drago finds them and tears both of their teeth out one by one. Still, Hiccup tries to change his mind.

Tiring of his diatribes, Drago rolls his eyes, screaming for his Alpha. The massive leviathan—previously intent on finding and, most likely, eating Valka—turns to its master. Drago points his spear from the beast, to Toothless. 

Under the piercing gaze of a hostile Alpha, Toothless shrinks in on himself. 

Hiccup tries to talk to him, to reassure him, but Toothless is shaking his head just like he did when they flew to the Queen’s nest. He paws at the ground and growls and shakes himself out, but it doesn’t work. When Toothless’s eyes open to look at Hiccup, his pupils are slits, and Hiccup knows that he’s lost him.

Still, still, Hiccup tries to talk Toothless down. To snap him out of it. Their bond is great, it has triumphed over an Alpha before, it will do it again. It has to. Please, Toothless, please, it has to—

Drago points his spear from Toothless, to Hiccup and walks away laughing.

Immediately, Toothless is looking at him like he’s a piece of prey. He stalks closer, teeth bared, snarling at the back of his throat, claws piercing the ice. It’s like he doesn’t even know Hiccup. And still , always still , Hiccup tries. He begs. He pleads.

It doesn’t matter—Toothless begins sucking in air for a blast. 

In the distance, Hiccup hears his mother scream. He holds out a hand in that direction. Even with his heart breaking into a million pieces, it’s okay. This is okay. Because Hiccup has been timing Toothless’s blasts for the last three years, so he knows when exactly to—

The fire lights at the back of Toothless’s throat, and Hiccup throws himself to the side. But even though they are of one mind, so connected in thought and in heart that sometimes it is impossible to decipher where one ends and the other begins, Hiccup isn’t fast like Toothless. The heart of the blast careens past him, hitting the ice, but the leftmost piece of it still collides with Hiccup’s shoulder.

His vision whites out as he feels something heavy hit his spine.

When he comes to—which even he is surprised about—it’s in a whirlwind of pain. But if it consumes him one second, it is tamed the next, as a familiar weight prods his side and a whimper that he hates so much pierces through. Hiccup isn’t able to sit up like he wants. Isn’t able to reach out like he wants. Isn’t able to placate and comfort and reassure like he wants. All he manages is a low moan.

But somehow, miraculously, that’s enough. A massive, familiar weight comes to cover him. Vision is just barely returning to him, and all he can see is shadow. That settles something in him. There’s a deep growling overhead, and Hiccup feels safe.

There’s more growling, and shifting overhead, and spitting of flame that makes his shoulder ache. There’s barking and roaring and the shine of something blue. There’s the great sound of something cracking and hitting the ice, and a low, primal, remorseful whine. There’s the crashing of waves, and a great, triumphant, roar amongst the dragons.

As the waves retreat, Toothless is back to nudging at Hiccup. His vision is still blurry, but there. Pain laces his left shoulder—the familiar pain of burning. Toothless whines and licks at him and whimpers. Hiccup is able enough to reach his right hand up, petting him to show he’s not mad. He’s never mad at him.

Then there’s hands on his back, feeling all over him, and then helping him sit up. The world sways and roils for a long, long moment, but he settles. His mother is fussing over his shoulder, but Hiccup can’t pay attention to her when Toothless is glowing and dragons all around are tipping their head in deference to him.

Still so guilty and upset, Toothless nudges him hard in the chest a few times, which angers something in Hiccup’s back. That’s a problem for later, he decides. The dragon—suddenly blue—burrows himself in Hiccup’s stomach, whining all the while. He’s warmer than usual, but not uncomfortably so. Hiccup holds what he can of him. 

Something catches the light out of the corner of Hiccup’s eye. His mind processes a million things at a glance. Without the pure thought to, Hiccup is pushing both dragon and mother off him and leaping to his feet. His hand goes to the prototype on his belt, igniting it with a twitch of his finger. 

As Drago lunges to impale Toothless with his spear, Hiccup pierces him with a blade of fire through the chest.

The man coughs once, wheezes, coughs twice, and then goes limp. He falls away, taking both Hiccup’s blade and, well, himself to the ground. There’s shouting and the roar of a dragon, but that all fades away as Hiccup really, truly, loses consciousness.

✦

When he wakes, it’s to a whole new world. 

The nest still stands, even if some of the ice has been chipped, and broken. It’s not as warm without the Bewilderbeast, but all the refugees from Drago’s army make up for the loss of heat. The entire flock is singing and chirping when Hiccup blinks himself awake.

His shoulder aches something fierce, burned severely by Toothless’s blast. His back screams where the chunks of ice hit it. It takes days before he’s able to sit upright for water. But he will heal. He always has.

The real strange part is that now, all the dragons regard Toothless as their Alpha. They defer to him for decisions. Dip their head to him upon his arrival. Leave the best catch for him. Present the younglings to him. It’s utterly, entirely bizarre. They’ve always been valued members of the flock, but this… 

No matter how initially mind boggling, it makes sense. It’s Toothless, after all. About time everyone else saw how incredible he really is.

✦

It takes longer for Hiccup to heal than it did with his leg, which he finds bizarre and utterly annoying. But any time he tries to do anything reckless, his mother glares at him like she’s about to throw him to be the baby’s chew toy for a few hours, so he behaves. Even though Hiccup taught his mother how to fly Toothless years ago, the new Alpha refuses to leave the ground until Hiccup is healed. 

✦

After that, well… with Toothless’s newfound abilities, the world just got a whole lot more interesting. 

They continue their crusade, bullying and tormenting anyone who harms dragons. Whispers ring out whenever he hops off his Night Fury. Sometimes he doesn’t even need to do anything. One look at his masked face, and they throw themselves and their weapons to the ground and start pleading for his forgiveness.

He only started wearing the mask because he was tired of people saying he looks too young to be doing this. Apparently, he’s a lot more intimidating with it on. And then it kind of became part of the legend, and well… He’s made a name for himself, at the very least. 

Another three years pass—six in total, since he left Berk—and it’s good . They take care of their flock, which Hiccup’s mother and Cloudjumper take care of whenever Hiccup and Toothless take off. Whenever they return with newfound dragons, the flock welcomes and cares for them with no judgement. 

Of course, both Hiccup and Toothless receive upgrades. Toothless’s tail remains mainly the same, but his saddle changes entirely. Hiccup tears up his old leg and replaces the entire thing, much to Toothless and his mother’s horror. He tries to give Toothless an automatic tail—Toothless destroys it.

Hiccup gets enough paper together to start making a proper map. Toothless indulges him, willing to fly to one end of the earth to the other. All these years later, and still, nothing feels as good as it does when it’s just the two of them above the clouds.

Hiccup hasn’t thought of Berk in years.

✦

Nothing really happens anymore without it getting to Toothless one way or another. And by proxy—and virtue of a basically psychic connection, and a few years practice with ‘dragonese’—Hiccup. This latest news though… it’s not his favorite.

One of the Nadders that lives on Berk was just trapped and captured. They haven’t killed it—yet—but the matter remains. A dragon has been taken hostage on Berk. 

And well, Hiccup can’t exactly let that go .

Chapter Text

Stiff with adrenaline, Astrid leads the Dragon Master back to the main village.

What else is she meant to do, when he’s demanding it and his pet beast is gurgling fire at the back of its throat? When he, who is said to burn and brand those that stand in his way, is threatening to do so to her entire village? When his tone changes so sharply, when he speaks to her like that?  

All she can do is cower, however loathe she is to admit it, so she does as asked and brings him to someone who will do better.

There’s a horn at the center of town, just beside the well. It was placed there after the storm, to alert for dragon attacks after everyone got used to sleeping through the night. It’s never been blown until now. But, well… if this doesn’t count as a dragon attack, what does?

The reaction to the sound is immediate. Vikings are busting out of their homes, half dressed with weapons raised. Some instincts never die. Still, Astrid can’t help but cringe at the groggy, dazed faces. Were this an actual raid, they’d all need to be cleaned out from between a dragon’s teeth by now.

Thankfully, no one goes charging at the Dragon Master outright. They all see him and his night beast and freeze in place—whether in shock or pure fear, Astrid doesn’t know and wouldn’t blame them for either. Vikings gather in doorways and front gardens, whispering amongst themselves.

“It’s him!” Squeaks a little girl, before her mother clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls her back into the house.

Just as the warriors—and Astrid—are starting to get antsy, he appears on the hill overlooking the plaza.

Somehow, Stoick is as put together as ever. All in his tunic and armor, helmet already on his head. Astrid can’t help but wonder if he’d actually slept at all. He’s been looking more and more tired these past few weeks.

As the two titans lock eyes, both Stoick and the Dragon Master tense. There’s a long moment where no one, except the black dragon, dares to breathe. Then, Stoick is looking from him, to her, back to him. From what she can tell, the Dragon Master’s gaze doesn’t leave Stoick.

Heart pounding, Astrid clears her voice. “Chief, this is… This is the Dragon Master. He’s come to… Well, he’s here because—“

The Dragon Master steps forward. “I’ve come to oversee the release of the Deadly Nadder you’ve imprisoned. She doesn’t mean you any harm, so you’d do well to leave her be. Or, well…”

Beside him, the Night Fury sucks in a heavy, screeching breath that sends a wave of heat rushing over Astrid. Just as she’s about to shield herself, it stops. The Dragon Master clasps his hands in front of himself—oddly polite.

“Also I need to see G—Your blacksmith. My dragon’s tailfin has been damaged and needs repair. I can and will do it myself, I just need the leather.”

Silence hangs heavy over the crowd. With this group, that’s damn near a miracle. Pensively, Astrid looks to Stoick for his reaction. She damn well knows she’s going to get the earful of her life for this. If he doesn’t just tie her to a mast and send her sailing off the edge of the world, at least.

“You…” Stoick has to start again, so ragefully incredulous. “You come into my village… On my island… A man with nothing but fairy tales to his name, and you start making demands ? As if you have any right—“

Astrid is pulled away from his words, as she sees the Dragon Master pat his Night Fury just between the ears. The beast doesn’t even acknowledge him before letting out an ear piercing screech. Astrid has to bend over and place her hands over her ears to keep her vision from whiting out. 

It takes everyone a minute to recover once the sound stops. If she thought things were bad before… Stoick is going to dice this man so thoroughly they won’t even be able to tell what kind of meat he is. He holds out his hand, and Spitelout faithfully places his axe there. As Stoick takes a step forward, it seems to shake the earth itself.

He stops still, but the ground shudders again, and again. Then there’s the sound of claws hitting thatch, and pine nettles rustling and… Astrid can’t hold back a panicked gasp as she looks up to find one, three, seven—just near about every damn dragon on the island suddenly perched around them. 

They don’t move—for now. All they do is stare, with those dead amber eyes, between the Vikings. There’s two Monstrous Nightmares, a few Gronckles, a Zippleback, those two extra Nadders Astrid has seen, and just about enough Terrible Terrors to take the village one to one. 

The Dragon Master takes another couple steps forward, obviously cocky. “Only some of it is fairy tales, Chief. Now, about releasing that Nadderhead…”

✦

Quite begrudging, Hiccup is led up the familiar steps to the Great Hall.

With the ‘all clear’ from Toothless, the wild dragons are dispersing. Seems they’re still not too keen on Vikings. Usually, Hiccup would never ask Toothless to abuse his power as Alpha that way. But, well, every second that Toothless is grounded is another that his life is in danger. They’re both going to have to do a lot of things that make them uncomfortable to get out of this one…

Back down the steps, Astrid is trailing behind—too busy quelling the worries of the villagers to keep in time. Huh. From the way the people flock to her, and listen to her for that matter, it seems she holds some position of power here now. It makes sense. She was always the one keeping the other children in line when they were growing up.

As they go, Hiccup keeps his focus down on his feet. He’s never quite gotten practiced with his prosthetic leg on stairs. The winding, staggered caves of the nest? No problem. But this kind of steady incline? It’s not something he’s particularly used to.

His choice of focus has nothing to do with the two men in front of him. And certainly not  their familiar silhouettes out of the corner of his eye threatening to split his chest in twine. Nor does it have anything to do with the way his entire body thrums with anxiety. 

Were Toothless’s tail operational, he’d leap onto his back and leave this place far, far behind.

But that’s not an option right now. And really, that’s Hiccup’s fault. He’s the one who suggested this whole thing, and he’s the one who couldn’t talk Astrid down enough to keep Toothless from getting caught in the crossfire, and he’s the one who isn’t crafty enough to make do. So now, he has the joy of trying to… fix things.

The great doors to the Hall still swing liberally on their hinges. All these years, and they never bothered to tighten them… Then again, it doesn’t seem like anything’s changed at all, so…

Hiccup holds the door open behind him for Toothless to slip in. The thing is surprisingly fast and heavy, and having it slam into your face is pretty sucky. Not that he would know anything about that particular situation… 

Of course, he gets a weird look for it. And he can feel the same from Astrid at the back of his neck. The idea of holding a door open for a dragon was probably so comical no one would dare to suggest it. Man, the things he could say to blow their puny minds.

The Chief settles at a table near the door. Of course he wouldn’t grace Hiccup with the honor of meeting at the high table. But his bitterness at the thought is drowned out by his relief for the possibility of a quick getaway. No, Toothless can’t fly, but he can still run .

It’s just a little funny watching the Chief, Gobber, and Astrid all cram together on one side of the table while Hiccup is given an entire bench to himself. Trying to keep his air of power, he leans his elbows leisurely on the tabletop. He’s gonna have to pretend that this is no big deal to him, that he demands things from people all the time, that he isn’t extremely panicked and wishing he was back at home.

Having Toothless settle at his back is a huge relief. The dragon is rumbling lightly, nose scrunched at the Vikings. He never met them back then, and Hiccup hasn’t really talked about it, but he can probably feel Hiccup’s discomfort.

“You, eh,” Gobber begins, and Hiccup’s heart falls through his chest. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Dragon Master. Sir.”

Gobber calling him sir. Hiccup just about busts out laughing for the absurdity of it all. Fortunately he’s too gobsmacked seeing his old mentor—and closest friend—here in the flesh again to make a single noise. It takes a long moment for him to blink and look away.

“Your Valkyrie over there put a hole in my dragon’s tail.” Hiccup keeps his voice low, unrecognizable. “Now, you’re going to fix it.”

Gobber glances over to the Chief. “…Don’t think I know how to fix dragon tails, but I’ll give it my best shot. Just don’t be surprised if he loses a claw or two.”

“No, that’s not…” Hiccup sighs.

No, he was never good with his words as a child. It only seemed to get worse as a teenager, and then, well… He’s severely out of practice talking to people that aren’t his equally socially stunted mother, who has always been able to parse his thinking with bare few words.

“I mean metaphorically ,” Hiccup gestures around with his hands. “You broke it, now you get to provide the supplies and equipment to fix it. No one but me will be touching the Night Fury.”

“So, he is a Night Fury.” The Chief chimes in, quite calmly, and in his shock Hiccup looks over at him and—

It feels like his throat is being constricted from the inside out. His insides have probably all leaked out onto the floor already, but in their cavity erupts an aching pain so deep he may as well be made of it. All at once, he feels like he’s fifteen again. He’s just ripe to be scolded—told off for all the things he’s done wrong since the last scolding, and even if Hiccup would keep on doing it, it would still hurt knowing that he wasn’t—

“Yes.” Hiccup manages, looking down and reaching back to put a hand on Toothless’s snout. “The very last.”

The Chief eyes Toothless warily, and Hiccup can’t help a feeling of accomplishment. That is exactly what he wants. Toothless is his greatest weapon when it comes to negotiations, and if he’s lucky, simply having the dragon at his side will be enough to get all that he needs. 

“And you want the Nadder.” The Chief ventures, as if Hiccup might’ve magically changed his mind.

“Whole reason I’m here.” Hiccup slings a leg over the bench, half turning to give Toothless more of his attention. “I’m not leaving without her. So, unless you want your villager overrun by dragons, I’d advise handing her over.”

“What do you want with it?” Astrid chimes in, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Hiccup can’t help a heavy sigh. It’s always the same with Vikings. They assume that dragons are something to kill, or something to use . When categorizing the ‘right’ things to do, dragons don’t even make the shortlist. 

He’s grown tired of trying to explain himself. “What do you want with her?”

And no , Hiccup isn’t good with socializing, but it would take someone purposefully obtuse to not notice the way Astrid’s eyes flick to the Chief. On his other side, Gobber does the same. They’re… hesitant.

They don’t even know .

The Chief is still, well… stoic as he stares Hiccup down. “That’s tribe business. You’ve no right to be asking these kinds of questions. Much less coming here, uninvited. What do you think gives you the right?”

Something about being here, staring him down, makes a fire start in Hiccup’s chest. He can imagine himself spitting flame into the wall to get the frustrations out. Unfortunately, he’s given no such easy outlet.

“What gives me the right is the harmless dragon you have locked up in your fighting pit.” Hiccup snaps. “You’ve gone five years without issue. But now here you are, trapping dragons for seemingly no reason. Trapping dragons in my waters. I know you’ve heard the stories. You should’ve known there’d be consequences.”

“ Your waters?” The Chief’s voice raises. “Now you lay claim to our seas as well as our lands? I’ve heard tyrants less arrogant than you.”

Hiccup scoffs. “I don’t care about your tiny isles or frozen wastes. Land ownership is the last thing I’m after. It’s the dragons I care about. Their well-being is under my protection, and you violated that.” 

The Chief grits his jaw, in that way Hiccup has seen him do so many times. He’s thinking long and hard about what’s best for his people. Hiccup taps his fingers lightly along Toothless’s head, hoping to direct him in the right direction.

Suddenly, the Chief stands. “Gobber, take him to your forge. Don’t let the dragon out of your sight. Astrid… a word .”

✧

The door hasn’t even finished banging shut—and back open, damn those hinges—before Stoick is rounding on her.

There are very few times he has ever looked really, truly angry at her. When she armed herself and tried to join battle at the age of fifteen. That time she let Snotlout and the twins sneak off to find dragon scales. Once when she forgot Hiccup’s birthday and joked about how gloomy the Chief was that day. And now… this.

“You brought him here?” He demands in that big booming voice of his. “Right into the heart of the village, where our people, our children live? And you led him right to it?”

“Chief, I’m sorry,” Astrid nearly falls over herself. “I’m so sorry, but he just—He threatened to light the whole village on fire. And that beast of his was just staring me down the whole time. I didn’t know what to do, I just… I thought you’d know what to do. You always have.”

She sounds like a petulant child by the end. But really, isn’t that what she is? Try as she might to seem old and wise and strong, she’s barely an adult. All her life she’s been sequestered on this island, with the weight of a people on her shoulders. 

Safe to say, this experience has already proven to be very humbling .

Stoick deflates slightly. Unable to help herself, Astrid just keeps going, trying desperately to redeem herself. She has to at least try .

“And when we started walking, he seemed to already know the direction of the village. I mean, with that monster he can fly , right? It’s not like we can completely hide the village from the sky. And I think he’s been watching us, planning this whole heist out. I mean, if I hadn’t been there—“

“Why were you there?” Stoick demands.

Astrid clams up. “Well, I uh… I just had a bad feeling, Chief. It’s been so long since we’ve had a dragon that close to the village. Everyone was really interested that Nadder when we brought it in, especially the twins, and so I just… stayed there and played lookout.”

“Well, I’ll commend your instincts for that one.” Stoick sighs. “If you hadn’t been there, he could’ve released the monster, and sicced the rest of them on us before we woke. But bringing him here…”

He’s pacing now. Back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth. It’s been years since she’s seen him this tense. Even the recent raids from neighboring tribes haven’t bothered him this much.

“What are we going to do about him, Chief?” Astrid asks tentatively.

“As loathe as I am to admit it, appease him. What else can we do? With the control he has over the beasts, we stand no chance. Given a couple day’s time, and a bit of forewarning, maybe , but for now…”

“Yeah. He’s not asking very much, at least. I mean, we can spare some leather and release a dragon… right?”

Stoick only scowls, pressing his palms flat against the nearby table. His eyes are fierce. It reminds her of that storm from years ago, illuminating a monster of the Hels. What Astrid wouldn’t give for a moment inside his mind…

”I want you to stay with him.” Stoick commands. “Shadow him. Every minute of every day. I don’t want him to have a second alone on this island, you understand?”

“Yes, Chief.” Astrid nods hurriedly, ready for a way to redeem herself. “Do you want me to do it covertly or—“

“Let him know. Stay at his side. Make sure he knows he’s being watched. He needs to know that we won’t go down without a fight.”

✦

“So, ah…” Gobber tries to make small talk. “Dragon Master, huh? Fun title.”

“Didn’t come up with it.” Hiccup huffs.

“Right… Well, who did then?”

“No idea. Just sort of… happened. People just started calling me it one day. It was weird.”

“There something else you prefer to be called?”

Not here, not with them .

“No.”

“Alright then…”

They reach the workshop, and Hiccup is nearly knocked down with the force of the memories. He steps forward slowly, taking it all in. If he listens closely, he can hear his own prepubescent voice mixing with Gobber and…

He looks back over his shoulder. No, it’s just actual Gobber sending some lad on an errand. A new apprentice, perhaps? From the way he looks at Gobber, all wide eyed and gaped jaw, probably not. For reasons he refuses to name, Hiccup feels a little better about that fact.

Gobber joins him after a minute, sighing and shuffling forward in a way that’s all too familiar. Hiccup gestures to Toothless to stay put outside as he ventures in. Last time Toothless followed him in ended with them sprinting off into the night, and this time, they can’t fly. The dragon grumbles about it, but listens.

“It’s not much,” Gobber gestures around. “But it does the job.”

And Hiccup wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Because this is… so much more than he remembers. It hasn’t changed. But back then, Hiccup didn’t know how to appreciate it. Now? After years of making due with metal scraps and dragon fire?

“No, this…” Hiccup nods hurriedly. “This’ll do.” 

“Don’t know how leather and a forge are meant to heal a Night Fury’s tail. Figured you’d needed herbs and stitches for that, but I’m not the one called the Dragon Master.”

Five years of peace, trade, and a new golden age of Berk, and Gobber still has the same old tools that are older than the both of them combined…

“It’s a prosthetic.” Hiccup gestures back to where Toothless sits, too consumed with analyzing the workshop to think about his words. “He got shot down years ago, so I did what I could. And what he would let me.”

“So it is possible to shoot down a Night Fury…” Gobber mutters under his breath. 

It’s sort of… heavy. Hiccup can’t help but look up at him, confused. But Gobber has busied himself with tidying the workstations, so Hiccup isn’t able to read him any further. Not wishing to pry—he really just needs to get out of here—he gives Gobber a bit of privacy.

He moves forward, taking in the old forge. It’s quiet and cold right now. But with a little help from Toothless… Already, Hiccup is putting together a mental map of everything he can accomplish just with the bits of scrap and abandoned projects he’s seen lying around. His mind runs just about as fast as Toothless can fly.

“Ah, Gustav, you’re back.” Gobber pulls him from his thoughts. 

From his vantage point, Hiccup can’t see out of the workshop, but he assumes Gobber is addressing the young boy he sent off earlier. But Hiccup’s mental image of Gustav is that of a sniveling, if eerily smart, little boy. Not a nearly grown man. Huh.

“And Astrid! Good, Stoick didn’t swallow you whole. I have to admit, I was worried for you. Now, Gustav, where is the leather?”

“All out.” Gustav doesn’t sound too concerned about it. “They used the last of it making hide armor for the new teen lookouts. Not a scrap left, they said. Gonna have to wait until the next trading ship comes through. Sorry, Gobber.”

Hiccup slowly makes his way out of the workshop, heart sinking further with every step. Outside, Gustav has already run off. Meanwhile, Astrid is eyeing Toothless warily—the dragon is nearly snarling back at her. Gobber looks back sympathetically.

“Sorry, laddie.” For what it’s worth, he does seem genuinely remorseful. “Or, well, sir. Your mastery-ness. Gonna have to wait for the next ship. You’re just in time though, should only be five days out!”

“Five days?” Hiccup demands, voice louder than he intended it. “That’s—That’s too long, I can’t…”

He can’t stay here. Surrounded by all… this . The places, the people, the memories, it’s all too much. Already he feels like he’s being split open from the inside, and it’s been barely an hour. Days of this? He can’t handle it.

Not to mention the talking to he’ll get from his mother about staying out so long…

Feeling those deep eyes on him, Hiccup glances over to Toothless. Of course, the dragon is already tuned in to his feelings. He’s looking to Hiccup with concern. If he weren’t still posturing for Astrid, he’d surely come over and bump his head against Hiccup’s chest, humming deep in his throat.

Hiccup follows the trail of his body, down to his tailfin. It’s in dire shape. Not just the newfound hole, but the equipment has been wearing down. He’d done what he could for it, but having access to an actual work station could change everything .

He lets out a tight breath through his nose. It’s not for him. None of this has ever been for him, it’s all for Toothless . Now, grounded and in what may as well be enemy territory, he needs Hiccup more than ever.

He can suck it up for less than a week.

✧

The Dragon Master doesn’t mention it when Astrid follows him back to the dragon pit. She thinks that he gives her a look out of the corner of his eye, but with the mask obscuring most of his eyes, it’s hard to tell. What is plainly obvious are the ugly stares the dragon is giving her.

Even still, they don’t say anything as she follows them back down into the arena. Nor when she closes the gate behind them. It’s pretty meaningless with the broken chains above them, but having the two outsiders ‘contained’ makes her feel better.

Immediately, the Dragon Master is walking over to the switch that controls the cage of the Nadder.

“Woah, hey now,” Astrid steps in. “The Chief decided that you could let it out when you leave. If you’re sticking around for your leather debt or whatever, the dragon stays in its cage.”

The Dragon Master looks back at her, and even with his face covered she can tell he’s unimpressed.

“I’ll release her when I go,” The Dragon Master acquiesces. “But if you think I’m going to let her be locked up this entire time, you’re more ignorant than I thought.”

With that, he flicks the lever. 

All the hairs on Astrid’s body stand on end. Instinctually she reaches behind her for her axe, cursing to herself when she remembers that she left it behind in the Great Hall at Stoick’s advice. Weapons will only serve to make the Night Fury more agitated.

A singular amber eye shines on her from the dark, and Astrid falls a few steps back. There’s a clicking and a squawking. She shudders at the sound, placing herself in a defensive stance. No, she can’t kill the beast outright—not in front of the Dragon Master, at least—but she doesn’t have to go down without a fight, either.

But the beast’s attention quickly shifts from Astrid. At the edge of the darkened cage, the Dragon Master has bent over to make himself smaller, making an odd clicking noise as he inches closer. With his teeth, he pulls off the glove of his left hand. The skin underneath is pale and rough.

The Dragon Master extends his bare fingers, rubbing them together as he lowers himself to his knees. It’s an oddly submissive stance. Reaching into his scaled breastplate, he pulls a bundle of tangy smelling green stalks. Astrid recognizes the sweet grass from the eastern island cliffs.

Squawking curiously, the Nadder peeks its head out of the cage. It keeps its head twisted, one eye on the Dragon Master, and Astrid remembers her lessons on dragon blind spots. The Dragon Master seems to be playing into it, keeping himself plainly in the beast’s view.

Cautiously, the dragon edges forward. There’s the rattling of chains as it pulls forward. The Dragon Master’s clicking turns from something very primal, into a more disapproving human sound. 

Lured in by his noises and the sweet grass, the Nadder pushes right up into the Dragon Master’s reach. Switching the grass to his other hand, the Dragon Master flattens his palm against the beast’s snout, trailing light up its horn. It takes only a second before the thing melts into his touch.

“There you go, sweet girl,” The Dragon Master murmurs. “You can relax now. We’re going to get you out of here, yeah? Those Vikings won’t bother you anymore. Yeah, rest now, sweet thing. We’ll look after you.”

At the soothing sound of his voice, the dragon sinks onto its haunches. The shackle at its ankle pulls taut, and causes the beast to squawk. Still holding onto its beak, the Dragon Master clicks some more inhuman sounds. He deposits the sweet grass at its feet, and scoots around to analyze its ankle.

Too mesmerized by what she’s just seen—he just tamed a dragon , like it was as easy as soothing a child—it takes Astrid a moment to catch on.

“Hey!” Astrid yells, but doesn’t dare move into the dragon’s space. “I just said the thing has to stay here. You can’t just—“

“It won’t go anywhere without Toothless.” The Dragon Master waves her concerns away— literally . “Besides, you and your trappers busted her up pretty good. Twisted her wing. She won’t be able to fly for a few days anyway. Congratulations, you downed a dragon. Feel better yet?”

With every word, his tone gets more and more fierce, until he’s literally spitting the words. She watches the Dragon Master trail his—surprisingly delicate—fingers up the length of the dragon’s left wing. The thing winces at the contact. And somewhere, she feels bad. As soon as she recognizes the feeling, she shoves it so far down it can smell the stench of Hel.

After rubbing the dragon’s snout some more, clicking his comfort at it, the Dragon Master turns all his focus to the shackle at its ankle. As if on cue, the Night Fury—who was giving the display some space—inches forward. It sniffs at the Nadder. Then, shockingly, it nuzzles just under its chin.

The Nadder seems just as surprised as Astrid, holding still as the Night Fury cares for it. However, it recovers faster than Astrid. Suddenly excited, the Nadder nuzzles back at the Night Fury, dipping its head and clicking in what seems to be deference until the Night Fury licks its snout—almost scolding. 

The sound of metal against metal pulls Astrid’s attention away. Unfazed by the dragons above him, the Dragon Master is quickly taking the shackle apart. He keeps pulling little metal tools from his breastplate, swapping them from where he holds them between his teeth fast as light. When it clicks open, Astrid can’t even find the energy to protest.

Free at last, the Nadder shakes itself out. Then, it seems to get excited. It starts dipping its head to the Night Fury—less in submission and more like it’s… playful. The Night Fury nods along, before jumping up in an action ready stance.

Then, quite possibly the strangest thing Astrid has ever seen happens—the dragons begin to play .

As she watches them bat lightly at each other, and dip and dodge and run, her mouth slowly falls open. Coming to her side, the Dragon Master is equally absorbed in watching the display. He pulls his glove back on.

“Quite the terrifying, bloodthirsty beasts, huh?” He slaps her on the back, leaving her to her thoughts.

What those thoughts are… she hasn’t the faintest idea.

Chapter Text

Working with real tools again makes Hiccup giddy like a child. It’s just like the first time he was allowed to work the forge with Gobber instead of being relegated to whittling, sewing, and hammering. He’s running around like a madman, occupied with no less than three things at a time.

All the while, he knows he’s being watched. Mostly by Astrid, who hasn’t left him alone since he first got here. But also by Gobber, a few townsfolk, and a group of children trying—and failing—to be stealthy. And once or twice… the Chief.

And no, he doesn’t think about that. He won’t think about that. He can’t think about that.

He just busies himself in relishing in the fact this is real, actual pure iron—not a load of scrap he’s melted together. And that these are real, actual tools, handcrafted by a master even if it was over a century ago. And this is a real, actual, intentional forge—not just a bunch of rocks and kindling around an alcove in the rocks.

No actual repairs need to be made on Toothless’s hardware. Not from Astrid’s bolt, anyways. But Hiccup would be downright negligent not to take advantage of this opportunity, so he makes an all new frame, and a few dozen connecting rods for future use, and an entire pouch full of new, uniform, stable screws and bolts.

And maybe throughout it all he casts himself a new hilt for his flame sword, but no one really needs to know that.

Not that anyone would really tell him no . As the afternoon has worn on, they’ve been allowing him the space less out of fear and more out of morbid intrigue. He doesn’t really blame them. He’s probably—no, surely , considering the look even Toothless is giving him—a deranged sight to behold. 

That’s okay, because this… oh, he’s missed this. His heart grows with every bang of a hammer on hot metal, every blast of Toothless’s fire to reheat the forge, every dunk of finished product into cold water. Yes, he’s made do all these years, but he’s been a fool to think it can replace the actual, proper work.

At some point he realizes numbly that he’ll most likely never get another chance like this.

His manic reverie is, of course, broken only by Toothless whining and shoving roughly at him. Hiccup interrupts his work to peer past the ramshackle roof of the workshop to check the time and yep. Once again, Toothless’s inner clock has proved unerring. 

Wiping his hands on the provided cloth apron, Hiccup finally turns his attention to his audience. 

“Lunch?” He offers to Astrid, who pales as she watches Toothless hum with pleasure.

✧

The Dragon Master’s definition of ‘lunch’ turns out to be traipsing through the forest, following a mad dragon.

The Night Fury—Toothless? Is that what he called it? Not a very fitting name, considering the way he’s snarled at her—bounds ahead of them. It scents the air, and paws at the ground. But even as it leaps through the waning undergrowth, it continues looking over its shoulder, ensuring that they’re keeping up. It’s weird .

To the Dragon Master, this is all apparently totally normal. He doesn’t seem to blink when the dragon leaps up and sticks itself to a nearby tree, nosing at an abandoned bird’s nest. His sure-footedness tells a story that this isn’t all that uncommon for the pair.

And what an utterly strange thought that is. Thinking of a dragon and a man as a pair . Before now, she’d only think of a beast and a human in the same breath if one had killed the other. But these two… They care for each other. That’s the most incomprehensible part of it all.

As the dragon leaps ahead, Astrid follows the Dragon Master over a fallen tree trunk. It’s only now that she’s realized he only has one foot. His other leg ends in a peg of iron that looks far more complicated than it ought to. Somehow, it makes him feel just a touch more human. He’s breakable .

They’re led out of the trees, onto a length of flat, rocky beach. Without hesitation, the dragon plunges into the ocean. It has to be freezing, telling of the oncoming winter, and Astrid gets sympathy shivers. 

But if it bothers the beast, it doesn’t show it. Merely does as she’s seen so many dragons off the coast do, and dives quickly to dredge fish up from the depths. After a moment, it resurfaces with a mouthful of fish, humming happily. 

Still entirely nonplussed, the Dragon Master finds a spot to settle in the rocks and sand to watch the show. Despite how on edge she is with a monstrous predator hunting right in front of her, Astrid sits stiffly beside him. She keeps about a foot of space between them, remembering that fire sword he whipped out at her upon their first meeting.

For a while, they sit just like that in silence. The dragon has dragged in its catch, curling up on the rocks to pick it apart. Astrid shivers at the sounds it’s making. She has to wonder if dragons make the same sound when devouring humans.

Pulling herself from that thought, she focuses instead on the man beside her. He’s such an enigma. Even without the legends, without the dragon , he’s strange. They have no knowledge of who he really is, yet there’s so much he already seems to know about them. It puts her on edge.

Apparently feeling her watching, the Dragon Master looks over at her.

“You can ask me, you know.” He offers.

Astrid blanches. “Ask you what ?”

“Whatever it is you so badly want to. You just have to be okay with whatever answer I give you.”

She turns that around in her mind for a minute. One part of her wants to be petulant and refuse, pretending that unlike the rest of the village, she isn’t so curious about him. But the other thinks of that village, and how her Chief trusted her with watching this stranger to keep them safe. If there’s anything she can learn to later use against him…

“Where are you from?” Astrid starts casually.

The Dragon Master is quiet for a moment. He’s like that sometimes, really thinking over his words. Like everything is this… preplanned game he’s keeping under his control.

“Nowhere important.” The Dragon Master finally concedes.

Astrid boils at that non-answer, but she agreed to accept whatever he says. Apparently, that means allowing him to be as vague as possible. What’s even the point of letting her ask questions if he’s going to be as vague as possible?

“Where did you get the dragon?” She asks instead of voicing her frustrations. For better or worse, she needs to stay on his good side.

The Dragon Master huffs, like it’s a funny question. “That’s not really how I’d put it but… He got shot down. Lost half his tailfin, and was… pretty scared. I’d never handled a dragon before, but he needed help, so… Then he just decided I was worth keeping around, I guess.”

Alright, so dragon talk is the way to get him chatty…

“So, what, you just learned about dragons from there?” Astrid pushes.

The Dragon Master shrugs his assent. “They may look different, but behaviorally they’re all pretty similar. Once you know how to gain the trust of one, you know how to treat them all. Just be kind, show that you’re not going to do them harm, and they warm up pretty quick.”

“You deal with dragons a lot then?”

“More than people.”

“What, your tribe didn’t get in on the dragon riding business?”

“Don’t have a tribe.”

Astrid is shocked silent then, left staring blankly at him. 

“H-How?” She stutters. “I mean, doesn’t everyone…?”

She can’t imagine being without her village, her people. The thought of being all alone, left to face an unkind, uncaring world… Just the idea of it sends her into a panic. 

“If we’re counting dragons, then sure.” The Dragon Master gestures vaguely with his arms. “But other than that… I don’t know. I just never really fit in with people.”

Astrid has to glance over at the Night Fury, who’s back to snapping in the ocean. “But you do fit in with…”

“Dragons care for each other in a way that people don’t. Their love is unconditional. Once you’re part of their flock, there’s nothing they won’t do for you. Ability doesn’t matter to them. They take care of their own.”

“That’s the exact same thing as being in a tribe, you realize that, right?”

The Dragon Master glances at her skeptically. Even through the mask, she can feel his judgement. She feels oddly… scolded. She gets the sense that she’s prodding at a wound she shouldn’t. Maybe not everyone has had such positive experiences with their tribe…

Even so, she feels the need to defend her people. Sure, he might’ve been burned by a tribe in the past, but Berk isn’t like that. They’re just like… like a flock—is that what he called it? By now, having seen them together these past two days, he has to understand that, right?

Every way she can think to say that will come across as argumentative or diminishing though. Despite it all, she doesn’t want to push him away. Or worse, make him angry . And anyway, one thing is sticking in her mind…

“So, you’ve just… been alone?” She ventures cautiously. “Apart from the dragons, I guess, but… It’s just been you?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, I didn’t mean… I don’t know. I just think that I wouldn’t like it. It sounds… lonely.”

“It’s not.” The Dragon Master replies, almost defensively. “Dragons are better company than most people, trust me. I have everything I need with them. People just cause more problems, in my experience. Case in point, dragon trapping.”

Yeah, he’s never going to let them live that down, will he?

“But that’s…” Different, she wants to say. But from what she’s heard about him, maybe it isn’t. Maybe he’s spent all this time around dragons, and only ever seen the worst of humanity. Maybe that’s all he knows. It makes her… oddly sad.

With a huff, the Dragon Master pushes himself to his feet. He wanders over to where his dragon is once again lounging with its food. And he’s saying something to the beast, but Astrid blocks it out, focusing on where she’s twisting her hands in her lap.

All these years, she figured this man was some… great warrior working on behalf of his tribe. That he’d come home from his conquests to cheers and feasts and honor. How could a legend not have a home to go back to?

It makes sense, at the very least, why he does all this. Of course he goes around freeing dragons and punishing those who do them harm. They’re the only family he has.

The gray sun is blocked out as the Dragon Master comes to stand over her.

“Here.” He holds out… a freshly smoked fish, offering it up to her.

Gingerly, Astrid takes it. She glances over to the Night Fury, who’s now glaring at her like she… well, like she took his lunch. But it merely flicks its ear, digging back into its catch, instead of adding her to the menu. 

Huh. Dragon Master indeed.

✦

With the turn towards winter, the sun is already beginning to set by the time they get to the dragon pit. It’s plenty dark already, what with gray clouds having blocked out the sun. A freezing wind is whistling off the mountains.

It doesn’t bother Hiccup much. Being on dragonback in this kind of weather makes it seem much more manageable on solid ground. Besides, he learned long ago to stick himself to Toothless’s side when the weather begins to turn. The dragon pleasantly radiates heat, and his big body blocks out the wind.

Astrid isn’t so lucky, but she doesn’t complain either. He’d beckon her into Toothless’s warmth, except she still looks at the dragon like he’s about to tear her open at a moment’s notice. And Toothless still looks at her like sometimes he wants to.

Even despite their earlier conversation, Astrid has been… kind. She retreated back into the forest for a while allowing Hiccup to retain his privacy while eating. Plus she thanked Toothless directly for her own meal, which he could tell was incredibly difficult for her.

Maybe not everyone on Berk is a lost cause…

Except when they’d left the arena this morning, Astrid had outright demanded that he put the Deadly Nadder back in her cage. Unable to deny her without making a big scene again, Hiccup had relented. At least he’d made sure she wasn’t shackled again. Now, with the turn in weather, he’s quietly thankful the Nadder is sheltered.

She doesn’t seem to mind though, as when Hiccup opens her cage, she bundles straight into his chest. He laughs at the contact. His gloved hands run long, comforting strokes over her head.

He clicks draconic noises of excitement and praise to her. It took a long while for him to pick up the noises from the flock. Not to mention all the irritated corrections Toothless had to make to ensure he was using the sounds accurately. 

All the work—and Toothless’s annoyance—was worth it, though. Being able to mimic their speech makes befriending dragons a Hel of a lot easier. It’s saved his skin during more than a few rescue missions.

Obviously still exhausted from her ordeal, the Nadder dips in his hold—settling on the ground. Hiccup hums and nuzzles her. Sensing her discomfort, Toothless appears at her other side, doing the same. The Alpha’s reassurance proves more effective. Typical.

With the Nadder settled by Toothless, Hiccup gets to work examining her. The injury to her wing isn’t detrimental, but she needs rest. Degloving, Hiccup gently runs his fingers along the bone of the wing, pulling it open to gauge its mobility. Yes, it’s healing up well…

But something is still nagging at him… He lifts her wing again, trailing his fingertips over the scales on her side—the barren dip of a scar along her abdomen. Crouching at her front again, he notes the scar on the left side of her beak. There’s a mountain range of bumpy scarring across her crown of spikes.

Like a wooden shield was cracked against them.

Just like he feared, this is her . The Deadly Nadder they used for their anti-dragon training. Despite being beat on, and chained, and abused, she’s still here. Even after Hiccup let her out all those years ago, she can’t move on.

Well, Hiccup remembers that feeling…

“Why are you still here, girl?” He whispers to her, holding her broad face between his hands. “You can leave this place behind, you know. They don’t understand you here. There’s better things out there for you.”

Of course, she doesn’t respond. Only happily exhales a puff of smoke, and presses further into his hold. Hiccup sighs, petting along the curve of her horn. He’ll bring her back to the nest. Maybe then she’ll learn to let go.

The whole time he’s with the dragon, he’s aware of Astrid’s eyes on him. She seems equal parts disgusted and curious about his interactions with the dragons. Hopefully seeing them this way—as the bright, wonderful creatures they are—will keep her from trapping anymore in the future. 

Hiccup clicks and warbles a few more sounds to the Nadder, pulling some more dragon nip from his breastplate to reward her for letting him examine her. Both she and Toothless sniff excitedly at it. With a small groan, Hiccup pushes back to his feet. Cold spells always make his leg and shoulder ache.

“You can talk to the dragons?” Astrid asks, still eyeing the two suspiciously.

Hiccup shrugs, pulling his gloves back on. “Not exactly. It’s not talking like we do it. But I can mimic some of the sounds they make to communicate to each other. Easy things like sounds for… comfort, or curiosity, or peace. Things like that.”

“That’s…”

She could say anything from incredible to terrifying to inhuman and Hiccup wouldn’t be surprised. But instead her words fade out entirely as she watches the two dragons nip playfully at each other. Still, she looks a little sick at the sight. 

Seeing the Nadder perk up makes Hiccup’s chest warm. All his worries about her fade away. As long as Hiccup and Toothless can keep her safe, she’ll be okay.

“And now, we play.” Hiccup gestures dramatically to the massive branch he brought in.

It’d been a struggle keeping it from Toothless. The dragon kept jumping on it, trying to wrestle it from his grip. Luckily, Hiccup has experience, and was able to shove the dragon off, laughing all the while. Astrid gave them a very wide berth during all that. 

Whistling to get the dragons’ attention, Hiccup hefts the stick. Immediately, Toothless jumps to his feet. Unsure of what they’re doing, but happy to follow the Alpha—no, her new friend —the Nadder does the same. 

It takes a lot of arm strength to accurately throw a branch like that, but Hiccup’s been doing it for years. All too familiar with this little game, Toothless leaps after the stick, tongue lolling. Still not sure what they’re doing, the Nadder follows after him.

Astrid has retreated to the pit’s entryway, eyes wide. 

It takes a few demonstrations, but soon the Nadder gets the idea. After Toothless dramatizes it for her a couple times, she takes the branch in her mouth and brings it back to Hiccup. Excited to see her learn, Hiccup clicks his praise and scratches her along her jaw. She hums happily. 

A while later, once Toothless and the Nadder have decided to ignore Hiccup’s role in their game and play tug-of-war with the branch instead, footsteps echo in the pit’s tunnel.

“Oh my gods…” A high, reedy voice whispers.

Hiccup doesn’t look over at their new visitor, too entranced watching the dragons play. He does tense slightly at the idea of having another spectator. Did the Chief send someone else to keep an eye on him? Does he trust Astrid so little? No, that can’t be it. She’s Astrid .

“What are you doing here?” The woman in question hisses.

“Oh, well, uh the Chief said—And Gothi predicted—The wind, you know?”

It’s silent then. Awkwardly so. Hiccup can’t help but look over at the entrance now. There stands a large man, with a tiny hat, and a fur tunic. He looks just as he did when they were teenagers, except a touch taller and with a twinge more facial hair. It’s Fishlegs.

Under his gaze, Fishlegs tightens up like a spring coil. “Uh, hello Sir Dragon Master, sir! It’s an—an honor, you have no idea. I’ve been chronicling your exploits since we first heard about you. Everyone else said you didn’t exist but I knew—“

“Fishlegs.” Astrid snaps.

“Oh, right!” Fishlegs gets back on track. “Gothi consulted the dragon bones, and has predicted the Big Freeze. First storm of the season is on its way, and Chief has ordered you back to the Great Hall to shelter with the rest of us.”

“What?” Astrid demands. “The storm wasn’t supposed to come for another week! Have we even finished the harvest? What about the livestock, have the barns been fortified for the weather? And—“

“Chief said he was taking care of all of it.” Fishlegs reassures—his complete and utter trust in his Chief shining through in his voice. “He just wants you back before it gets too rough, and he said to arrange shelter for our… new friend! Mr. Dragon Master, sir.”

Fishlegs dips his head to Hiccup, and it causes a lump to form in his throat. 

Astrid looks to Hiccup, seeming a little helpless. Last night, they’d slept right here, in the pit. It hadn’t been terribly cold, and Hiccup had slept rougher. He worried about Astrid, but she insisted on staying. 

Now, Hiccup shrugs. “I’ll just stay with the dragons. We can shelter in the Nadder cage. They’ll keep me warm. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s— No .” Astrid stumbles over her words, apparently too flabbergasted to remain put together. “No! You’re not staying out here! I don’t care how warm dragons are, you will freeze! Because no matter how much you might want to pretend otherwise, you are a human person, just like me. So you…”

Her words die out as she gets lost in her own thought. Those stark blue eyes of hers dart around the claw marks and burn scars in the ground. Despite her harsh words, Hiccup is too drawn in to argue.

Finally, Astrid decided her course of action. “ You are coming to the Great Hall, to shelter with the rest of the village.”

At her side, Fishlegs tightens up. “Him? With the rest of—of everyone ? But the Chief—!”

He’s cut off as Astrid slaps a hand over his mouth without even looking. Her harsh gaze is directed solely on Hiccup. She’s already made up her mind, and Hiccup knows it will be a fight to change it. But the thought of leaving Toothless makes him want to crawl out of his skin, so that’s a fight he’ll have to win.

“I don’t think—” Hiccup begins slowly.

“If you’re staying out here, I am too.” Astrid declares before he can get any further.

And that… that gives him pause. Because for Hiccup, it’s no big deal. He’s sheltered through storms with Toothless before, in nothing but shallow caves, in much less insulated flight suits. But Astrid…

She won’t even approach a dragon, much less share body heat with one. Depending on how bad the storm is—which, with how the sky is darkening, is bad— she could get genuinely hurt. Or worse . And it would be his fault.

Hissing dragon curses under his breath, Hiccup tears his gaze from her. Having sensed his change in emotion, Toothless has approached slowly, with a curiously tilted head. Once he’s within reach, Hiccup is running his hands along his scales on instinct. Whether it’s to comfort himself, or the dragon, he isn’t sure.

They haven’t spent a night apart since they left this place, all those years ago. No matter what’s happened, Hiccup has had Toothless by his side. And Toothless has had him. 

Maybe Hiccup could argue Toothless’s way into the Great Hall, on account of him being trained and Hiccup’s other half. But the Nadder… They trapped her not even a week ago. Sharing space and precious warmth with her? Most would probably rather die.

Astrid will put herself in mortal danger if Hiccup doesn’t accompany her to the Great Hall. And the Nadder will be alone and at risk if Hiccup takes Toothless. Meaning their only option is… Hiccup curses a few more times.

He really, really hates Berk.

✧

The Dragon Master is as cross as he was when Astrid put a hole in his dragon’s tail as he accompanies Astrid and Fishlegs back to the Great Hall.

Despite only being there once, he intimately remembers the way—almost leading them at times. Most, if not all, of that negative energy is directed at her. And frankly, she gets it.

It was a low blow, offering herself up as collateral like that. Really, she knows that. She just couldn’t stand the thought of him staying out in the freeze like that. It’s one thing for dragons—they’re built to survive that kind of thing. But for a regular human…?

Because she is seeing quite clearly now that’s all he is. He’s no… beast of legend, nor some mythical, untouchable figure. Sure, he may be mildly insane for the way he interacts with dragons. That doesn’t make him less deserving of the simple privilege of surviving though. 

Besides, it’s hard to hold his friendship with dragons—however hard to believe that is—against him, seeing as they’re apparently the only company he’s had for Odin knows how long…

Just as Fishlegs promised, it seems Stoick has taken care of everything. The houses are prepped for a storm. The livestock are safely in their reinforced barns. The food stocks are being lugged up the stairs to the Great Hall. 

It should be a relief, but some part of her burns at the sight. All this was going on, and where was she? Watching dragons fight over a big stick? Seeing just how alien the Dragon Master really is, as he clicked at and petted on the beasts? Yes, Stoick ordered her to do all those things by proxy, but she’s still unexpectedly bitter.

How are her people supposed to rely on her if she’s stuck babysitting a madman?

As they climb the stairs, falling into line with the rest of the village, Astrid watches the Dragon Master in front of her roll his left shoulder, looking out into the distant bay. It seems the muscle is bothering him. She would ask about it, but she knows she’s pushed her luck for the day. Besides, she finds it unlikely he’ll talk in front of a crowd.

It was, admittedly, a little hard watching the Dragon Master separate from his Night Fury. The thing had been whining at his words, pushing into his chest. It had growled so unhappily, Astrid was sure it would take the man’s head off. But with enough petting and reassurances, and shifting the concern to the Nadderhead, the Night Fury had relented.

Now, left without his guardian for the first time, the Dragon Master seems on edge. Astrid knows all too well that he shouldn’t be. Obviously, he knows it too, considering how he’d patted the fire blade’s hilt at his blade and promised his beast he’d be safe.

Astrid can’t help but wonder if he’s worried for his dragon’s sake then, but quickly shoves the ludicrous thought away.

The closer they get to the doors, the more the murmuring grows around them. Obviously, people have noticed the outsider is among their ranks. They give him odd looks as he climbs the stairs past them, huddling together and chattering like he’s without ears. His shoulders get tenser and tenser. 

Once inside, Astrid deposits him at an empty table near the hearth. Fishlegs is still vibrating around him, not quite working up the initiative to sit next to him, but Astrid has bigger things to worry about. She needs to find Stoick before he finds them .

Shouldering her way through the crowd, she heads toward the back of the Hall. With any luck he’ll be at the high table. Except she can’t—she can’t see over all these people, which is really quite exceptional given his sheer size and—

It seems she doesn’t have to worry about it, as a massive hand comes to grip her shoulder and spins her around.

“You brought him here ?” Stoick demands of her— again .

“Chief,” Astrid inhales, preparing the speech she’d been drafting the whole way here. “He would freeze if we left him out there alone. I thought it best to offer our hospitality to stay on his good side. Besides, if something happens to him, I really don’t think we want to deal with that Night Fury—”

“No.” Stoick interrupts. “No. I don’t care, he can’t be here. Odin knows what he might do! If he calls upon those dragons again, while we’re all here and weaponless, the entire village is good as dead!”

Astrid’s nose scrunches skeptically. “I don’t think we need to worry about that if the Night Fury isn’t—”

“You don’t know that, Astrid!” The Chief insists. “He’s a complete unknown to us apart from a load of tall tales. We have no idea what he might do.”

“ Actually , I have a pretty good idea. I’ve been doing as you asked, Chief. I’ve been watching him, I’ve been talking to him. I don’t—I don’t think he really cares about us. As long as we let the Nadder go, he won’t do anything to us. All he cares about are dragons.”

“Which makes him all the more dangerous.”

“Which makes us all the more safe seeing as there are no dragons in sight! Stoick, please . You asked me to take care of this, and I’m doing it. Just trust my judgement this one time. If he does anything, I’ll—I’ll renounce my claim to the chiefdom. I’ll pack up and I’ll enter exile—”

“Hey, now—” Stoick tries to stop her, suddenly dour.

“I know that’s extreme but that’s how sure I am about this, Chief. He won’t cause any problems. I promise.”

Stoick frowns over at where he sits. “I’m not worried about him causing any problems at this point…”

Astrid turns on her heel, anxiety blossoming and—

“So then, I like totally bashed Dagur’s head in.” Snotlout is boasting.

“Uh, no you didn’t.” Ruffnut sniffs. “You hit him on the helmet and then ran away screaming when he barked at you.”

“No I didn’t —” Snotlout pauses where he was rising off the bench. “I mean, that’s totally not true, Dragon Master. I would never do such a thing. I’m Berk’s finest warrior, you know. The Chief himself trusted me to—”

He cries out in whiny pain as Astrid grabs him by the ear and pulls him to his feet. 

“ What are you doing?” Astrid hisses.

“Hey, woah woah!” Snotlout immediately submits. “We were just welcoming our new guest, that’s all! I swear, no ulterior motives—”

“I thought you said we were trying to get on the Master’s good side so we could convince him to blow shit up on his Night Fury.” Tuffnut complains.

“No!” Snotlout snaps at him, before turning back to Astrid with his doe eyes. “I mean, no! Never! You know the twins, they’re just—”

Astrid plants her palm on his helmet, and shoves him back down into his seat. He cries out like a big baby, like always , and Astrid huffs a sigh. She thinks that might be the end of it, until she turns to find Fishlegs on the Dragon Master’s other side, journal in hand.

“Is it really true that you once burned an entire Outcast village for cutting a Terrible Terror’s tail off?” Fishlegs asks excitedly, charcoal pencil ready. 

“Uh, it wasn’t a village.” The Dragon Master scratches at his chin. “It was a trapping encampment. Alvin’s been trying to train dragons for years—”

“To fight his wars for him, yes!” Fishlegs writes frantically. “Were you the one who burnt their fleet when—”

“Fishlegs,” Astrid snaps, coming to stand over him. “Leave the poor man alone. He didn’t come to get interrogated.” 

She reaches for his notebook, but Fishlegs holds it to his chest like she just threatened his firstborn. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” The Dragon Master cuts in. “They don’t mean any harm. I’m fine answering some questions. I know you don’t get many visitors around here.”

Normally, that would sound like an insult, but from him it sounds more like simple fact. And well, it is. But he says it with such certainty…

His whole demeanor is off. He says the others are fine, but his posture is laced with tension, his voice a little wobbly. The visor of his mask keeps flicking around, like he’s trying to take everyone in at once. She wonders how long it’s been since he’s talked to so many people at once.

Always one to take a mile when offered an inch, Ruffnut jumps in. “So, we can ask you questions and you won’t like, burn us alive?”

“Or turn us inside out?” Tuffnut offers.

“Or cover us in dragon poop?” Ruffnut concludes.

Because all those possibilities are definitely equal. 

“Uh, no.” The Dragon Master replies. “I’m not even able to do any of those things. Except maybe the last one.”

“Ahah, first question: your dragon poops?” Tuffnut leans in, like he just got the Dragon Master to confess. 

“Yeah? They all do.”

“Even Gronckles?” Snotlout cuts in. “Don’t they eat mostly rocks?”

“Yes, it’s probably the worst kind, and yes, they eat rocks. It’s what gives their fire that lava-like quality.”

Fishlegs is taking more frantic notes.

“How do you know so much about dragons, anyways?” Snotlout demands. “Do you keep all of them as your pets?”

“Pet is the wrong word. And I don’t keep them, it’s…” The Dragon Master trails off, obviously debating how much he wants to say. “I’ve just had encounters with them, and kind of learned as I went. It’s easy to pick up on stuff.”

“So you are…” Fishlegs says with some reverence. “A walking tome of knowledge about all species of dragons, and how to approach them. You are… a better version of the Book of Dragons! I need to know everything . Like what’s your Night Fury’s speed, and how hot is a Scaldron’s water blast, and have you ever seen a Changewing, and—”

“Boring!” Ruffnut drawls.

“Yeah, I want to know the fun stuff!” Tuffnut scoots forward in his seat. “Like have you ever been pooped on by a dragon?”

“What is with you and dragon poop?” The Dragon Master mutters. “And unfortunately, yes.”

“Do dragons get hiccups?” Ruffnut demands.

“Sometimes.”

“What does dragon slobber taste like?” Tuffnut shoves her out of the way.

“Oddly spicy.”

“Have you really never killed a dragon before?” Snotlout cuts in skeptically.

Quiet falls over the table, and seemingly the rest of the Hall. It’s only then that Astrid realizes a crowd has gathered around their table. People are craning necks and elbowing ribs for a better view. Kids are settled on their parents’ shoulders, trying to get a good look at him. Astrid even swears she spies Stoick somewhere in the crowd but—

The Dragon Master is quiet for a long moment. 

He hums, as if unsure—like it’s a question he’s never really asked himself. “Uh, one, I guess.”

And that shocks Astrid to her core.

Tuffnut, of course, is unfazed. “What about people? How many people have you killed?”

“One.” The Dragon Master responds easily, sure of this answer.

The twins are muttering something about how lame that is, and how all the stories are wrong, but Astrid is too consumed with her own question to care.

“It was Drago Bludvist, wasn’t it?” Astrid speaks up, breaking the heavy silence in the room. 

The Dragon Master only nods.

“So, it’s really true,” Snotlout leans excitedly into his space. “You really did defeat Drago Bludvist.”

“Yeah,” The Dragon Master admits, like the praise and excitement rippling through the room embarrasses him.

“How did you do it?” Astrid asks.

“It’s a long story.” The Dragon Master says, and from the tiredness in his voice, Astrid believes it. “But the short version is that he almost killed me, so my dragon killed his. And then he almost killed my dragon, so I killed him.”

Silence follows his words. Even the babies have quieted at his heavy words. It’s obvious he takes no pride in it, despite knowing it was necessary. All at once, Astrid is overcome with the truth that this is a good man in front of her.

“You did a good thing.” Astrid declares, just to remind him. “He was a tyrant. Not just to dragons, but to people too. The Archipelago is safer without him in it.”

The Dragon Master only nods, the action small. It’s still quiet around them. No one else might agree with her, and that’s okay. It’s going to be happening a lot more often, she thinks. 

Seems the pair of them are going to be rocking the boat for a while.

✦

By the time they’re let free the next day around noon, Hiccup has never been so thankful to get blasted with cold air.

Free from the confines of the stone chamber—and all the gazes it holds—Hiccup lets out a long, slow sigh. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. After the initial curiosity and crowd, he was mostly left alone. Except for his former classmates…

Seeing them again, after all this time, all grown, was… bizarre to say the least. Having them fawn over him like that? Even more so. The whole thing is tinged with deception, just like his moment of fame before he left, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. As if he wasn’t ready before, he’s more than ready to get out of here now.

Apparently, he’s not the only one who feels that way. 

He barely gets halfway down the stairs before a massive black shadow is barreling into him. Luckily he’s in his armor, as his head collides with the stonework. Groaning dramatically, he pushes at Toothless’s head as the dragon begins licking him excitedly.

Frankly, he’s not quite sure how he didn’t expect this. Neither Hiccup nor Toothless were amenable to the thought of actually locking him and the Nadder in the cage. So, they’d left the door cracked, even if it let some of the weather in. And now…

“Okay— Okay , get off me,” Hiccup chuckles, pushing Toothless’s head—and tongue—away properly. “Yes, I’m here. Nothing happened, I’m alright, I’m right here. Yes , I know. That was hard. It won’t happen again, okay? We’re out of here soon.”

Toothless whines, and nuzzles him, but Hiccup’s allowed to sit upright again. He pets Toothless comfortingly. That tightness and wrongness that’s been living in his chest since they were separated finally loosens. With every touch, he begins to believe his own words. They’re okay. They’re going to be okay.

He feels eyes on him as he showers his dragon in affection. That increasingly familiar gaze of Astrid, but also the other former trainees, Gustav, a few of the townspeople, maybe even the Chief… No, not him. It can’t be him.

But all the attention fades to the background. All that matters is him, and Toothless. The rest of these people… they’re inconsequential. After all, they could never understand. They’re worth only as much as the way they treat wild dragons.

As he’s pressing his forehead to Toothless’s, a small commotion reaches his ears. He looks up just in time to catch a flick of blue, before a scaly beak is nudging at his shoulder. It seems Toothless brought along a friend.

Laughing, Hiccup pets the Nadder lightly. She doesn’t seem any worse for wear. In fact, she seems more comfortable than she has since Hiccup arrived, even despite the nosy crowd. Both she and Toothless seem completely nonplussed by the crowd of Vikings.

Using the two dragons as leverage, Hiccup pulls himself to his feet. Well, foot and peg . A murmur of shock goes up amongst the crowd. Bitterly, Hiccup wonders if a one-legged man standing is really that big a deal—then, the ground shakes.

At the foot of the stairs, settled amongst the snow, is a massive, rusty red Monstrous Nightmare. With his landing, a panicked cry goes up amongst the people. But the dragon isn’t looking at any of them. He’s looking at Toothless.

“Hey, wait!” Hiccup places himself between the villagers and the dragons, just as the calls for weapons come. “He’s not here to cause any harm!”

His voice does little to placate them, as a gaseous green Hideous Zippleback lands on a nearby roof. It’s quickly followed by a peachy brown Gronkle. At the sight of what must be her friends, the Deadly Nadder skips down the stairs to join them.

The Vikings are still shouting in panic, and Hiccup vaguely recognizes the voice of the Chief trying to rein them in. He feels the giant man approaching him from behind. Completely unrelated to that, Hiccup puts his hand on Toothless’s neck, and begins down the steps. If the people won’t listen to reason, he’ll just have to show them.

Just before they reach the dragons, Hiccup stops on the stairs, letting Toothless go forward. It would be imperceptible to most, but Hiccup can see the lines of tension in the dragon. After a whole year, he’s still not used to this.

Honestly, in his shoes, Hiccup doesn’t think he’d ever be used to it.

As Toothless comes into their midst, the dragons hop down from their perches, putting themselves on level ground with him. One by one, they dip their heads to him. Their eyes are carefully turned downward with respect. Hiccup’s chest swells at the sight.

Approaching each carefully, Toothless presses his nose to each dragon’s, releasing them from their stance. Under his approval, the dragons stand a little taller. Hiccup can see the hints of pride in their postures. 

Once the pageantry is over, Toothless looks back at Hiccup. Knowing that’s his cue, Hiccup wades through the snow. The Nightmare is at the group’s head, so Hiccup approaches him with a half raised hand, clicking his intentions of peace. Not as cautious as the Nadder had been, the red Nightmare accepts Hiccup easily.

Like all of his kind, his skin is pleasantly warm to the touch. Already, the snow around his body is loosening and melting. He hums his special sound, nudging into Hiccup’s chest. The man laughs at the touch. 

He approaches the Zippleback next, who offers both their heads easily. The Gronckle is even friendlier, cuddling into Hiccup’s chest before he’s even touched her snout. And of course, the Nadder hops happily towards him when he approaches her. They’re a sweet bunch. 

With his greetings complete, Hiccup steps back from the group. Angling towards the stairs, he finds himself side by side with Astrid. She’s watching, wide eyed, as the dragons click and sing to each other. In the middle, Toothless hums deep in his chest—happy.

“What are they doing here?” Astrid hisses to him.

Spying the Chief and the rest of the high table out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup pitches his voice loud enough for all of them to hear.

“They don’t mean any harm.” Hiccup reassures once more. “They only came to see Toothless.”

He vaguely debates his next words, before deciding there’s no harm in the truth.

“It would be rude of them not to come and give respect to their Alpha.”

Chapter Text

It takes far too long for the dragons to dissipate. Even once the menagerie has cleared off, they’re still left with two—more than Astrid is inherently comfortable with. Of course, the Dragon Master doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. Astrid is starting to wonder just what it would take to break his annoyingly calm facade.

Then again, maybe he has no reason to worry. From what he said… His Night Fury, an alpha . Astrid didn’t even know dragons had alphas, and she’s not quite sure that she wants to. Just how cutthroat does a dragon need to be to assert dominance over all the rest?

As she watches the Dragon Master show off his Night Fury to the oddly hesitant twins and Snotlout, she feels a familiar hulking figure sidle up next to her.

“I don’t like this, Astrid,” Stoick professes.

Astrid sighs. “I know. Honestly I don’t… I don’t either, Chief. I thought he was mostly harmless, but…”

It doesn’t need to be said. If he can call down dragons upon them at a whim, he’s by far the biggest threat in the Archipelago. The first time he’d done it, she’d been willing to let it go as a simple show of power to save his own skin. But now…?

He’s just flaunting. Making damn sure they know how powerful he is. How he could bring this whole village to its knees without, apparently, making a single sound. How he holds their lives between dragon claw.

“If he’s telling the truth, if he really killed Drago Bludvist…” Stoick trails off. “Then he’s a monster unlike anything these seas have ever seen. We’re as good as dead already.”

Astrid can only nod stiffly, throat too thick to speak. The Chief is the only one who has any real knowledge of what Drago was like. If he’s scared of the tyrant’s killer… Well, Astrid would do well to replicate that feeling.

“I want you to keep him away from the village.” Stoick commands. “I don’t care what he asks of you. I don’t care how bad the weather is. I don’t care if Helheim comes bursting forth from the ground. You keep him away from our people.”

“It’s only two more days until Johann is here.” Astrid agrees. “I can keep him and his beast occupied until then. No one will get hurt while there’s still breath in my breast.”

Ahead, the Night Fury flicks its tail, knocking Snotlout’s legs out from under him. He’s quickly buried in the snow. The dragon heaps more snow over top of him. It makes a sound deep in its chest—it sounds exactly like a laugh . At its side, the twins are cackling much the same.

Meanwhile, the Dragon Master watches on, flicking his dragon on the ear for its bad behavior. But he doesn’t seem to feel too bad about the whole thing. He’s laughing as he bends down to help Fishlegs pull Snotlout from the snow. 

It’s strange how quickly he’s taken to the others. He said he hasn’t been around other people for… well, she got the feeling it was a long time. Obviously, he holds no love for Vikings. And yet, he’s fallen in with Astrid’s former class like he’s always known them. 

More than that, she remembers how he seems to always know his way around. How she rarely has to introduce him to anyone before he’s seeming familiar with them. How he knows his way around their forge, and easily he dismantles their dragon cages. How he knows so intimately the little details that make Berk, Berk.

It all leaves a bad taste in her mouth. The more paranoid side of her brain is running wild with it. But even the most reasonable parts of her can’t help but wonder if this was planned somehow.

Seems an awfully convenient excuse that he wants them to provide the materials to fix his dragon’s tail. As if he can’t just fly away on his dragon to go get the supplies he most surely has. And the Nadder’s supposed hurt wing, and the storm , and…

Now he’s turning the youngest, most able warriors in the tribe onto his side.

“No… I don’t like this either, Chief.” Astrid admits quietly.

But he doesn’t seem to hear her. He’s crouched low, analyzing the snow. Astrid thinks him insane for a moment, before she sees what he’s looking at. One of his giant fingers traces the lines of a track the Night Fury left behind.

“Sir?” Astrid pitches her voice up to break his reverie. “Are you alright?”

It works, the Chief startling back to himself. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I just thought… No, that can’t be possible…”

His last words are mostly to himself.

Before she can think too hard about it, his sharp eyes are coming back to Astrid—hitting her like a storm front.

“Keep an eye on him.” Stoick orders once more. “Everything he does, I want to know about it. I’m trusting you, Astrid.”

Her head spins with the words as he walks away. Of course, he’s trusted her for years. She wouldn’t be where she is if he didn’t. But this… It feels different now.

Crossing her arms in front of herself, Astrid turns her attention back to where the Dragon Master stands. She can’t afford to let herself stray again.

It’s going to be a long couple of days.

✦

Although it’s only been barely a day since the freeze began, Hiccup breathes in the sunlight like it’s been an entire Age.

It’s still cold enough for his breath to fan in front of him. But the sunshine warms the dragon scales of his armor enough to stop the shivering. Even still, his shoulder and leg ache.

They venture out despite it. The cold doesn’t bother the dragons much. They’re made for this kind of weather, after all. What Hiccup wouldn’t do for his own internal fire…

He feels vaguely bad about dragging Astrid out, but she’s acting so… serious that Hiccup hadn’t wanted to bring up that she could stay behind. Somehow, he knew that wouldn’t have gone well. Even as they tread deeper into the forest, she doesn’t complain. 

Neither of them speaks as they go. Like Hiccup said, she’s acting weird . And he’s pretty worn out from all the talking and socializing the last day. Being with Astrid is somehow… easier than being with anyone else on Berk.

They stop at the beach first. Though they hadn’t given any indication, Hiccup knows the dragons are getting hungry by now. Toothless and the Nadder—who Hiccup hadn’t had the heart to send back to the arena—gallop happily along the frozen shore. They blast holes in the ice and retrieve mouthfuls of sluggish fish.

To his surprise, Astrid smacks him in the arm, holding out her satchel. She’s glaring something fierce as she reprimands him to eat. With that, she stands and stomps back to the tree line. Inside the bag… she’s brought him lunch .

It’s just a bit of bread and some dried yak strips but Hiccup melts. He hadn’t eaten all through the night, not willing to eat knowing that Toothless was going without. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to attempt taking his mask off… But now, Toothless is chowing down happily, and Astrid has given him privacy, so…

Having human food again is utterly bizarre. Bread is something of a rarity back at the nest, something they only get when his mother trades for it. Usually it’s plenty stiff and on the verge of molding by then. But this is fresh and soft and smells sort of buttery. 

And meat that isn’t fish? Any food that isn’t fish? He hasn’t been spoiled like this since… Well, since he left, six years ago.

Watching the dragons hunt and chase each other, Hiccup eats gratefully.

Once he’s finished—and thanked Astrid like she just saved his life—they continue walking. This time, Hiccup has a purpose. The dragons hop through the snow, wrestling lightly and playing hide and seek behind frosty boulders. Occasionally they stray, but Toothless is good at finding his way back to him, and the Nadder follows happily.

Finally, they come to a cliff side clearing, and memories just about knock Hiccup over. Just as he’s about to get lost in it all, the dragons rush past—nearly knocking him and Astrid into a snow drift. Both dragons start nosing at the ground excitedly. 

Hiccup sighs lightly, pushing past them to the center of the clearing. Astrid is overly hesitant as she picks her way between the two dragons that are now laid out, rubbing their backs on the ground. Crouching so his knees sink into the snow, Hiccup digs into the white powder.

Looking over his shoulder curiously, Astrid watches him work. Deciding to include her, Hiccup hefts a handful of green stalks that he’s just cut from the frozen ground. Even he can appreciate the scent of fresh dragon nip.

She must recognize it from when he’s used it on the Nadder, as she doesn’t ask. Using her boots to clear the snow, she reveals more of the green stalks. Quietly, she hums.

Dragon nip surprisingly doesn’t wilt in the winter. Sometimes, Hiccup thinks that the dragons prefer it when it’s frozen like this. It makes his life a lot easier, so he goes about collecting a fresh bundle.

As he works, he looks up to see Toothless happily rolling in the snow, trying to reveal more of the sweet grass. This is where he first discovered dragon nip, after he and Toothless crashed here one day. There’s a strange feeling in his chest at that thought. He can’t tell what he’s feeling, but he knows it’s too much.

Across the clearing, Astrid cries out. Hiccup swivels, reaching for his sword, where he finds—He can’t help but laugh.

The Nadder has approached Astrid, apparently trying to sniff at her. The Viking is scurrying back and pirouetting away from the dragon. But the Nadder is relentless, uncaring as Astrid shouts at her to stay away. She cocks her head curiously at the Viking.

“She’s just curious.” Hiccup is still chuckling as he calls out to Astrid. “Don’t be scared. She likes you!”

“Good for her!” Astrid snaps. “Now, tell her to leave me alone!”

Hiccup only shakes his head lightly, going back to his gathering. She has to learn eventually. If that involves being chased by a Nadderhead through the snowy forest, so be it.

✧

Astrid is regretting quite a few things, as she sits on the hollowed out stone of the dragon arena. Namely, her general sense of dependability that has led to Stoick trusting her so much. If she spent all her time goofing off like Snotlout and the twins, she wouldn’t be in this situation, now would she?

But unfortunately, here she is. Settled in the corner of the Nadder’s cage, freezing her kneecaps off, watching a pile of dragon and Master snore peacefully. Just wonderful.

She could—and should—be asleep too. If only she weren’t kept awake by her sprinting mind, that is. Any fraction of a moment she has alone, she’s stuck in her own head, running through facts and questions.

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t understand the Dragon Master.

And she hates it, because the more time she spends around him, the more she gets lulled into this… false sense of security. She really starts to believe that he means no harm. That all the things she can’t make sense of don’t actually matter. That they’re safe in his presence.

She’s torn so wholly between part of her that wants to trust him, and another that knows there’s something she’s not seeing. The more she thinks about it, the more confused she gets. But she just can’t stop . As if enough brooding on the matter will make everything magically clear up.

As usual, she’s pulled from this line of thinking by the Dragon Master. Except it’s not him beckoning her, or calling her name. It’s not his dragon or the Nadder he’s seemingly adopted running by. It’s not any of the things she’s come to expect .

Instead, across the room, the Dragon Master startles awake with a gasp. His whole body flinches, like he’s taking an impact. Shakily, his hands seek out the dragon he's pillowing against. It takes a minute for him to calm down, and another for him to notice her.

She doesn’t know why it’s surprising that he has bad dreams. He’s killed a man. Killed a dragon, too, apparently. For most that would be an accomplishment, but for him… And of course there’s the matter of the missing leg—she’s never found an acceptable way to ask about it.

“Sorry.” The Dragon Master mutters, rubbing a hand along his masked face.

Astrid frowns. “For what?”

“Just… Nevermind, I guess.”

Carefully, he pushes away from the two dragons he’s been practically cuddling with. Neither of them budges. Astrid holds in a relieved sigh. Even after three—bordering on four—days, the dragons are still an unnerving presence. Especially now that the Nadderhead won’t leave her alone.

It’s not unexpected when he comes to sit beside her against the wall. They… sit together. Somewhere along the way, it became a thing that they do. Something about it is different now that they’re not watching dragons fish or wrestle though.

“Can’t sleep?” The Dragon Master questions.

“I get them too.” Astrid offers instead of answering.

“You… What?”

“Nightmares. I get them too. Mostly about my parents dying.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Astrid shrugs. “It’s fine. Before you start wondering, it was a Berserker raid, not the dragons. It happened when I was just a girl, so… I don’t know. It doesn’t hurt as much, I guess?”

“I get that.” The Dragon Master says, and from his tone, she can tell he really does.

“I’ve always had my Uncle Sven,” Astrid continues, unsure of exactly why , other than that it feels safe. “Even if he’s been mute most of my life. But just because he doesn’t speak doesn’t mean he can’t love me any less. He’s taken really good care of me.”

The Dragon Master puts his hands up at her increasingly accusatory tone. “I never would’ve thought otherwise.”

Strangely, she believes him.

“And, well, I have Stoick now too. We didn’t really interact much when I was young, but he’s become like a father to me ever since…”

Her words fail her now. She knows what she means to say, but actually speaking it feels different, somehow. It feels like a secret that’s not hers to tell. But out of everything, it feels important for him to know this. Maybe it will make their hesitancy towards dragons a little more understandable. 

“Since what?” The Dragon Master prods.

“Since Stoick’s son died.”

It’s quiet in the wake of her words. A chill goes up her spine at the mere thought of Hiccup. Like his ghost is still haunting these lands, eager to snap her up for taking his place.

“The Chief’s son—“ The Dragon Master’s voice is tight. “ Dead ?”

Astrid nods numbly. “He was carried off by dragons, just like his mother. It sounds so horrible, but we didn’t realize he was gone for a few days. Once it was clear he wasn’t just playing hooky… Well, there wasn’t anything anyone could do.”

“That’s… That’s not—“

“That’s why we hate dragons so much.” Astrid stresses to him. “ Everyone in the village has lost someone to those monsters. Not even our Chief has been spared. No… he probably has it the worst of all of us. He’s lost everything .”

“But they don’t—They’re not hostile anymore.”

“But they could be! At any moment, they could just flip a switch and—and start tearing us apart again.”

“No, they couldn’t.” The Dragon Master is oddly irritable now. “That’s not how any of this works. The dragons spent so long attacking you because they were under the control of an Alpha. And not a benevolent one like Toothless. She forced them to raid your village to feed her, not because of some bloodlust .”

It’s… Well, it makes sense when he says it, especially with his particular breed of certainty. From her hazy childhood memories, she does remember the dragons always going for the food… Vikings were just in the way.

“Besides,” The Dragon Master huffs, leaning back against the wall. “She’s long dead now, so you don’t need to worry about that anymore. The dragons of this region are free to do as they please. As the last five years will tell you, they like to mind their own business .”

Something cold prickles at the back of Astrid’s neck. “How do you know how long it’s been since the dragon attacks stopped?”

The Dragon Master’s shoulders tense up, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“How do you know what the dragon attacks were like?” Astrid demands. “How do you know what was driving them? How do you know that force is dead—“

She remembers his voice clearly then.

He’s killed one dragon.

“Oh my gods.” Astrid breathes. “It was you. You’re the one that killed the Alpha. You’re the one that stopped the dragon attacks. You’re the one who saved us—“

She’s startled silent as the Dragon Master pushes to his feet. In the darkness, his shadowy armor blends in almost perfectly. That, combined with how still and silent he is, makes him almost imperceptible in the dark.

“You should get some sleep.”

With that, the Dragon Master stalks off into the night.

✦

Hiccup feels Astrid’s eyes on him as he watches the two dragons play.

It’s a familiar scene, but it feels more charged now. There’s something different in the way she looks at him. No, she hasn’t mentioned any of the revelations she came to last night, but Hiccup would be a fool to believe it didn’t change anything.

All he can do is pretend to remain unbothered. Even if he wants to shrink into his own skin at the mention of his slaying the Red Death. Or rip his mask off, declaring himself alive at the mention of his death.

His death . All this time, he never thought… Well, he’s not sure what he thought. But certainly not that his old tribe would think him dead . Gone, missing, exiled, sure. Not…

It seems foolish now. Of course they think he’s dead. He was weak, in more ways than one. How could he survive without them for a month, much less six years? And truthfully, without Toothless, he couldn’t have.

Part of him thinks he should confess. Declare himself alive, and bask in the relief and praise it brings. At the very least, he should clear things up. Let them know that he wasn’t eaten by dragons. For that matter, his mother wasn’t either.

But he thinks that would just… needlessly complicate things. Obviously, everyone has moved on. The other former trainees don’t seem any worse for wear. Astrid is all lined up to take over the village, apparently. His fa—The Chief has one less burden to worry about.

Everyone who knew him seems just fine.

And he is too.

So, it’s better to just get out of here as quickly as possible. Wait for the traders to come, get his leather, repair Toothless’s tail… And a new resolution, talk as little as possible. He’s run his mouth too much already.

Suddenly remembering that Hiccup is there, Toothless disengages from the Nadder and trots over to him. He nudges lightly at Hiccup’s chest. Laughing, Hiccup feigns a blow or two to the top of his head. Easily goaded, Toothless knocks in his chest hard, sending him sprawling to the ground.

They wrestle on the ground for a minute, a familiar dance. Of course, it’s a losing game for Hiccup. All Toothless has to do is lay out fully on his stomach and Hiccup is giving up. But they play hard until Toothless is brought to that point.

Once he’s able to coax Toothless off of him, he tunes into Astrid’s regular breed of distress. The Nadder is sniffing at her again. She likes the Viking woman, always trying to nudge up closer to her. At first, Hiccup thought it was just curiosity on the dragon’s part. But now… It seems the Nadder is drawn to her.

Struggling onto his foot, Hiccup moves to get in between them like normal. Whatever the Nadder feels towards Astrid is certainly not reciprocated. If he’s not careful, instinct might take over and the Nadder could end up caged—or worse.

“Hey, hey…” Hiccup puts a hand on the Nadder’s beak, using his words to hopefully calm the pair. “It’s alright. She doesn’t mean anything by it.”

The words are directed at the both of them, explaining away their polar behaviors.

“Keep that thing away from me!” Astrid snaps. “If anything happens to me, you know the rest of the village will—”

“She hasn’t hurt you yet, has she?” These words are meant solely for the Viking. “If she was going to, she would’ve once I’d released her from your chains. It’s like I’ve told you, she’s just curious.”

“She doesn’t treat you like that,” Astrid points out, and Hiccup notes that the Nadder has graduated from being called an it .

Hiccup shrugs. “I’m already giving her the attention she wants. Besides… some dragons just like certain people. Toothless is like that with me. Cloudjumper is like that with—a uh, compatriot of mine.”

“There’re more dragon riders?” Astrid asks like the idea disgusts her.

Dammit, he’s said too much again. But with Astrid, he just can’t help himself. Something in him wants her to understand this so badly…

“Well, yeah. I’m not actually some spooky master of dragons. Anyone can do it. You just have to give them a chance.”

And strangely, Astrid hesitates. She’s looking at the Nadder like… like she sees something there. Like she sees herself. A lump grows in Hiccup’s throat, suddenly choked with memories. He knows what he has to do.

Very, very carefully, he reaches into the gap between him and Astrid. As he takes her hand, it’s the first time they’ve purposefully touched. Brushes of fingers when handing over food don’t count. This is… different. All of this is.

Though she stiffens, Astrid doesn’t shake him off. That is surprising. He thought he’d have to fight her on this, but her attention is solely on the suddenly still Nadder. They can’t seem to look away from one another.

Pulling Astrid forward, Hiccup very gently moves her hand into the Nadder’s space. Inch by hesitant inch, he brings her hand up to the Nadder’s beak. That last breath of movement is entirely her own, as Hiccup’s hand flies away.

Astrid touches the dragon’s snout, and the Nadder hums happily.

An incredulous laugh rips from Astrid as the dragon pushes closer to her. A joyful puff of smoke spurts from the Nadder’s nostrils, and Astrid doesn’t even cough. She’s getting it. She’s really, actually getting it.

“See?” Hiccup whispers, afraid to break the peace. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

“No…” Astrid agrees. “It’s… She’s beautiful.”

“She’s yours .”

✧

There’s no way around bringing the Dragon Master into the village once Johann arrives. 

Well, they could bring the trader to him, but walking the man into the arena with two dragons loose might just be the end of him. Not to mention that the Dragon Master would undoubtedly begin to suspect that he’s being kept away on purpose. Better to just let him select what he needs, and drag him back to the dragon pit to let him fix his dragon’s tail.

Surely that much will be okay… right?

Fishlegs comes in the morning to let her know that Johann has arrived. She thanks him, quickly sending him off before he notices the Nadder gravitating towards her. None of that makes any sense to her, much less her own actions, so she relies on ignoring the problem until it goes away. Besides, the Nadder will be leaving with the Dragon Master soon anyways…

She waits until noon before taking the Dragon Master into the village. Hopefully the rest of them will have finished their business with Johann by now. Though, she knows they won’t be so lucky as to go completely unnoticed.

Of course, they still get stares. Mostly from the village’s children, who try to run forward and greet the Dragon Master and his Night Fury. Thankfully, they’re held back by the nearest adults. Even so, the Dragon Master gives them a small wave as he passes. They squeal in response.

Johann just about hits the ground when faced with the Dragon Master. In part due to his glaring dragon, but mainly due to his sheer starstruckness. He shakes the man’s hand for entirely too long. No doubt he’s about to start asking him a few million questions, when Astrid sidles up to him and triggers his reliable business acumen.

They get the leather, the Dragon Master complimenting the quality. Johann preens a little at that. It seems that the trader is going to let the trade go unequal, but surprisingly the Dragon Master pulls a bundle of dragon scales from his breastplate. Even after just a few days, Astrid recognizes it as the Night Fury’s regular shedding. Still, it feels like a big gesture.

Johann shakes his hand for an inappropriate amount of time again—nearly wrenching the poor Dragon Master’s shoulder out of its socket—and declares the scales will stay in his personal collection.

Astrid is just about to grab the Dragon Master by the elbow—since when does she touch him like that?—and declare this whole thing a success, when she spies a massive red beard.

Her stomach drops near Helheim. Immediately she’s shouldering her way through the small crowd, making her way to the base of the stairs. Strangely, Stoick is crouched to the ground. He’s running his fingers across another of the Night Fury’s tracks in the snow.

His eyes flare with anger. He adjusts his grip on his axe, and pushes to his feet. It’s clear there’s only one destination in his mind. The Dragon Master.

“Chief—” Astrid tries, placing herself between them.

With one hand, Stoick pushes her out of the way. The force is so hard, she nearly falls straight to the ground. It takes all her years of training to keep her feet under her.

As the Chief storms forward, all she can do is stare after him. He has never, never touched her that way. This is—he’s…

Shock and horror take over as Stoick approaches the Night Fury, raising his axe overhead.

“No!” The Dragon Master shouts, placing himself as a shield between the Chief and his dragon.

Stoick doesn’t swing, but he doesn’t lower his weapon either.

“Get out of the way, boy.” Stoick’s voice is low, dangerous—something Astrid has rarely heard.

“No.” The Dragon Master insists again. “Lower your weapon, or I call upon all the dragons in the Archipelago, and torch your village to the ground.”

Finally, Astrid realizes it. He’s bluffing. Without the Night Fury—Without Toothless , he can’t call upon dragons at all. More than that, he’s only killed one man. He has never burned any village to the ground at all.

She gets the feeling that he would though, if his dragon were to be killed. He’d do it with his own two hands, and wouldn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. That she knows so deeply, it sits in her bones .

So, she should stop this. She should get between them, she should talk the Chief down, she should tell the Dragon Master to take what he needs and run . But she can’t. She can barely even suck in breath, much less move, or talk, or think clearly.

Stoick is going to kill them all.

“Go ahead.” Stoick spits. “Do your worst, Dragon Master . Your beast will be long dead by that point, and you will be defenseless . Now move, before I make you.”

“No.” The Dragon Master repeats, again , and something about his voice is familiar this time. “If you want him you have to kill me first.”

“You say that as if I won’t.”

“I know you won’t, because you don’t kill innocent men.”

“You are far from innocent as long as you protect that monster.”

The Dragon Master sighs angrily. “Toothless isn’t dangerous . Not unless you make him be. He’s been here all this time and—”

“The beast killed my son!”

Silence sits heavy and oppressive as winter fog over the village. Astrid’s eyes widen. That can’t be true… can it? She whips around to one of Toothless’s tracks in the snow. That can’t be…

The Dragon Master isn’t nearly as shocked as the rest of them at the revelation. “Actually, I can really, very certainly assure you that he did not.”

Astrid stares, numb, at the tracks. Stoick is… he’s right. She remembers it, so clearly from when she and the other trainees snuck into the forest to see what everyone was claiming. There’s no mistaking it. Toothless really… he really…

“You killed him…” Astrid whispers in utter betrayal, looking to the dragon.

“No,” The Dragon Master points at her. “No! He didn’t! He would never hurt—”

“I followed the tracks myself.” Stoick lords over the Dragon Master, entire feet taller than him. “You think I would forget a single detail of the monster that killed my only son? My pride, my joy, my heir— and you think I would mistake this?”

Somehow, the Dragon Master doesn’t cower back from him. “He didn’t do it. Your son was not eaten by dragons—”

“You know nothing!” Stoick roars. “You come into my village, you threaten my people, you demand tithe, and now you refuse me the vengeance I have waited six long years for. No… I will have your head after all. You are no innocent man.”

“Then do it!” The Dragon Master shouts, stepping even closer to the Chief. “Cut me down right now! Do it in front of your village’s mothers, and children, and elders. Do it!”

Something about his voice is really familiar now, but Astrid can’t place it—

“No, I will slay the beast first.” Stoick puts an arm on him to move him like he did Astrid, but the Dragon Master stays strong as his dragon growls. “I will make you watch as I tear him limb from limb, and bleed him dry, and I will force you to know it is still not enough to pay for what he’s done—”

“He didn’t do it, Dad!”

The word hits the plaza like a lightning strike. Astrid is almost knocked to her knees under the force it. No. No, she would’ve known, she would’ve seen, she would’ve—

The Dragon Master reaches under the chin of his mask, tearing it from his face and—It’s him. It’s really him. With that same messy brown hair, and forest green eyes, and even the shine of a scar on his chin. But it’s the rage that’s so familiar—the rage lining every inch of his face that is such a perfect mirror of that of the man standing over him.

It’s Hiccup.

“He didn’t kill me.” Hiccup hisses, and Stoick steps back like he slapped him across the face. “I left . I couldn’t stand to be here, with all of you obsessed with killing dragons when I knew the truth . And you… you were going to force me to do it too. And I refuse. I refuse to become you .”

The words are enough to bring a sting even to Astrid’s eye. How the Chief is even left standing is beyond her. There’s a glaze to his eye, like his soul has just left his body, and is trapped in his own version of Helheim.

The Dragon Master— Hiccup— seethes one more time, before turning on his heel and leaping onto his dragon. The thing roars at Stoick—at them all, as a warning. With that, the dragon and the man riding it sprint off towards the main island, fast as shadow itself.

Hiccup is gone.

Once again, he’s gone .

Chapter Text

Hiccup threads Toothless’s tail together one pull at a time. He’s purposefully careless, letting the large and unruly needle prick his fingers as it goes. The minute bits of pain keep him grounded. He can’t fall too far into his head—he can’t .

Strangely, his hands don’t shake. They didn’t the entire time he was stuck under the ire of the… of his father . His breaths come easy, no pain in his chest, and his shoulders are firm. Huh. Guess some things have changed in the last six years.

But even if his body holds strong, his mind is a wreck . He just keeps thinking about it. Replaying both their words over, and over. Each flip of that page—back and forth, back and forth—pulls open old wounds. Arguments of years past come surging back to him. Things that still hurt, even if they claimed to have resolved them.

Toothless was near inconsolable once Hiccup finally pulled him to a stop. The dragon had been nosing at him, whining pitifully, pawing at his chest. It took a lot to reassure him. Toothless cares little for his own safety, but is shaken to his core when his other half is threatened. They’re exactly alike in that way.

They’d held each other for a long while, waiting for the adrenaline to pass. 

Now, it’s near sunset. Toothless’s prosthetic tail has been removed and settled in Hiccup’s lap as he works to sew in the fresh leather cut outs. It would’ve been nice to cut and sew them in the safety of Gobber’s workshop, but Hiccup can make do. He always has. Always .

And this is… just another close call. Another threat they’ve managed to skirt. They’ll fly home triumphant, telling redacted stories to Hiccup’s mother, and welcoming each dragon that comes to greet them. This is nothing. It will be nothing.

Then there’s footfalls and the skittering of pebbles, and Hiccup scowls. He pushes his needle through the leather a little too hard. The pinprick in his forefinger breathes red. Hiccup doesn’t care.

Behind him, Toothless is growling and gnashing his teeth. Yet, he doesn’t stand. He never does when Hiccup is leaning his back against Toothless’s side like this. He’s too considerate. Hiccup worries it will get him killed.

It almost did today.

Because Toothless hadn’t called for any dragons. Hadn’t threatened to breathe fire. Hadn’t leapt forward to stain his claws. He’d trusted Hiccup implicitly. Now, Hiccup curses all those times he’d reprimanded Toothless to let Hiccup take over when men threaten them with axes. It would’ve been easier to let Toothless take a few fingers as a souvenir, and get out of here. They’ve done it before. This shouldn’t be different. It’s not different.

A hulking familiar figure comes to the edge of Hiccup’s vision. He resolutely doesn’t look up. That figure, tinted red, stops. And hesitates. And fumbles. And Hiccup lets him.

Of course, he knew he’d be found if he came here. Apparently, they’d found it all those years ago. If they’d come to associate Hiccup’s footprints with Toothless’s, it would only be here—the cove. This place where they first bonded.

Hiccup is jostled slightly as Toothless pushes to his front feet, still growling sharply. He places a placating hand on the dragon’s shoulder. Immediately, Toothless is retreating back—huffing an angry puff of smoke. Even still, he settles back into the ground.

The sun is setting now. Hiccup didn’t realize it’d gotten so late. He’ll have to be quick, if he wants to use the daylight to continue sewing this up. Stitching by firelight is not one of his favorite things to do. But he will, if it means they can fly home sooner.

“You…” His father begins, voice clipped and awkward. “You tamed a dragon.”

Hiccup swallows down an eye roll. “They’re naturally tame creatures, as long as you’re not throwing axes at their heads. And once a dragon trusts you, there’s nothing they won’t do for you. 

“And that’s why…” His father’s voice is thick—grief stricken. “That’s why you left. Because of your dragon.”

“Because you were going to force me to kill a dragon.” Hiccup spits. “And then another. And another. And another until they were all gone . Because we both know that even if you drove them away from Berk, you wouldn’t have stopped. I couldn’t be a part of that.”

“But you didn’t have to… If we could’ve just talked , then—”

“Then what, Dad? You would’ve—would’ve just stopped ?”

“If I had seen your ways like I’ve seen them now, I would’ve given you a chance, son.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Hiccup can’t help but laugh. “You would’ve continued to chase them down and—”

“I’ve had more reason to tear the beasts apart these past six years without you, and after the attacks stopped, I gave it up! I even let the little devils remain on my island, without so much as bothering them—”

“Except you trapped a Nadder not two weeks ago. You can’t ever stop, not really. We both know it. Back then, you wouldn’t have stopped until you found the Red Death, and been turned to ash by her.”

Finally, his dad is silent for a moment. Thinking over his words, maybe. Hopefully. Improbably . Hiccup decides to look over at him then. His hand is turning red with a dozen pinpricks now.

“Astrid told me.” His father mutters. “That you… you slew that beast. The Dragon Queen. That without you, the dragons would still…”

Hiccup only nods numbly.

“That was a year after you di—after you left , Hiccup. And you still… You came back to save us?”

It takes a while for Hiccup to decide what to say—what to do. There’s nothing to say that isn’t wholly incriminating. Because at the end of the day, he did it because he cared. Because he wanted the violence against dragons to stop. Because he didn’t want any more mothers to lose their children.

Hiccup eventually raises one shoulder in half a shrug. 

His father goes quiet then. Something heavy is in the air, and it’s starting to choke Hiccup and turn his eyesight fuzzy. Finally, he sets his project down with a sigh. He doesn’t give his father his full attention—still refusing to look at him—but he decides to give him a modicum more.

It’s the least he can do.

“What happened to your leg?” His father asks, voice sad.

Hiccup raises his peg, staring at it like he hasn’t seen it before. “The Red Death. Got knocked off Toothless into her fire. Pretty lucky it didn’t get the rest of me.”

“You killed Drago Bludvist?”

“He was trying to build an army of dragons. Kept trapping them, brainwashing them, forcing them to fight for him. It wasn’t right. But I didn’t… I wasn’t going to kill him. That’s just sort of… how it happened.”

“Did you ever intend to come back?”

Hiccup hesitates. “Do you want my real answer?”

“Always.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father nod numbly— sadly . Carefully, Hiccup glances over at him. There’s a hunch to his shoulders, a dip to his head, a stillness to his hands that only comes when he’s… Well, Hiccup’s only ever seen him like this the few times they talked about his mother.

Oh, gods. His mother…

“I’m sorry.” The words get caught in Hiccup’s throat. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d believe that I’d died . I don’t know what I thought but… not that.”

“I have mourned you every day for six years.” His father confesses, voice sad and small. “More viciously than I did even for your mother. Losing you… There was no worse fate the gods could design for me.”

Pain and guilt seize Hiccup’s chest like a vice. His father… he shouldn’t be like this. He was never supposed to be like this . He’s supposed to be big, and strong, and infallible and vast and—

“I’m sorry.” Hiccup’s voice breaks as he turns to his father fully. “I didn’t think you’d—I never thought you’d…”

His father finally looks at him.

“You didn’t think what?” He asks, so gentle .

“I didn’t think you’d care .” It sounds silly now, seeing the man broken in front of him, but it’s the truth. “I—I was weak, and small, and a hiccup , and nothing like you at all. And yes I’d found success in the ring, and you were finally proud , but it was all built on lies. You wanted me to kill a dragon, and I knew I couldn’t, and I figured the absence of me would be better than the shame you would feel if I—”

“ Nothing could be worth the absence of you.” His father insists. “And no, I was not always… I was not always proud, and I was not always supportive, and… I was not always a good father. And for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I drove you away.”

Hiccup nods, letting the words wash over him. After all these years of feeling crazy, like he was overreacting, or simply not tough enough to take a father’s love, finally— finally , he is validated. Some part of him clicks back into place, and begins to itch with its healing.

“Thank you.” Hiccup’s voice is tight with emotion. “I… thank you. And I’m sorry for leaving. If I’d known that… If I’d known anything at all, I wouldn’t have gone. I would never do that to you on purpose.”

His father nods stiffly. “Thank you.”

They’re silent for a while. There’s a cold breeze, and it makes Hiccup’s eyes sting where it meets his unshed emotion. He wipes at his eyes furiously. He’s a grown man, he shouldn’t…

“Can I hold you, son?” His father asks—oddly nervous. 

The question shocks Hiccup down to his core, but it awakens some boyish part of him that just really needs his dad. He’s only able to nod, pushing to his feet. It takes only a few steps before his father is there, wrapping him up in his warm arms. Even though Hiccup has grown, it feels the same as when he was a child.

The sun sets as father and son embrace for the first time in a lifetime.

✧

Astrid finds him late into the night, in the exact same spot she encountered him for the first time. 

Except well, that wasn’t the first time after all, was it? 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Astrid is unable to keep the hurt from her voice. The Dragon Master— Hiccup , it’s Hiccup— looks over at her from where he’d been fiddling with a dragonless saddle. To most, he’d be near imperceivable in his dark armor, pressed up against his Night Fury. But Astrid has experience picking him out amongst the darkness.

At least he’s ditched the mask now. His eyes are a sharp green, even in the night. Astrid takes care not to stare at him.

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone.” He responds simply. “I meant to get in and out. If you hadn’t shot Toothless in the tail, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

“Then why did you stay?” Astrid pushes. “Just to—to get back at us by taking a little leather? To lord yourself over us and—”

“You shot Toothless in the tail ,” Hiccup repeats.

“And? Isn’t it a prosthetic? It’s basically just a flag hanging off—”

She cuts off, eyes hanging on Hiccup’s prosthetic leg. He raises one slow eyebrow at her. It all comes clicking together at once. How did she not see—

“You’re stuck here.” Astrid whispers, wide eyed. “It’s a prosthetic—Toothless can’t fly without it. I… oh gods, I grounded you.”

Hiccup huffs, half turning away from her. “Like I said. It was supposed to be in and out. I was never… purposefully lying to you. Well, I mean, yes I was, but not nefariously, it was—”

His words cut off. He sighs and mutters to himself—something about stupid and running his mouth and… It makes Astrid too sad, so she stops listening. But she gets stuck on the way his brow pinches, how it’s exactly like it was…

“I know,” Astrid sighs, coming over to flop down beside him. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, you were just trying to protect yourself, it’s just…”

Hiccup is staring at her next to him like she’s done a Zippleback and grown an extra head.

“We weren’t friends back then,” Astrid admits. “We couldn’t be, because I wasn’t… I wasn’t kind to you, or to anyone, really. Especially right towards the end, I was so… jealous of you. All my life I knew killing dragons was supposed to be the thing I was good at, but then it actually came time for it and… I just wasn’t.”

“For what it’s worth, it wasn’t the dragon fighting I was good at,” Hiccup smiles, and it’s goofy just like it always was. “I’d met Toothless by then, and I was learning their behaviors. It was surprisingly easy to adapt it all to the ring.”

A lot of things click into place at once for Astrid. She quietly oohhhh’s to herself. As she nods and shifts in her place on the ground, she feels Hiccup’s gaze on her. It’s different now. He has a sort of intensity and focus that he lacked as a boy.

“Now what?” Astrid questions hesitantly, eyeing the newly repaired prosthetic tail. “You’ll just… leave? Take off again?”

Her voice is oddly bitter. She really, truly didn’t mean for her words to come out so harshly. Obviously, he has a lot going on. Emotionally, but also literally . Even if she knows the man under the mask, it doesn’t make him any less the Dragon Master.

Hiccup inhales sharply. “I don’t know. There are people—I mean, dragons—that are relying on me, I can’t just… Trappers won’t stop just because I stopped by my hometown.”

“Right…”

Silence envelopes them. Distantly, Astrid can hear the sounds of Toothless and the Nadder playing precariously on the cliff side. She wishes she could be that carefree.

It should be fine for him to leave. After all, it’s been six years since he’s been gone, and more than half that since Astrid last mourned him. He’s right, he’s doing important work. They can’t expect him to stop that.

And yet…

“Stay.” Astrid whips around to him, finding his eyes easily. “Just for a few more days. There will be a feast in three days time to celebrate the change in seasons. If you have to leave, at least let us send you off well.”

She sees in his face the hesitance. He’s going to say no. Of course he will, what reason does he have to stay? How could she be so arrogant as to think that she of all people could change his mind?

But just as she’s deflating, he speaks.

“Alright. We can stay a few more days. But Toothless and the Nadder get to come too.”

✦

It’s the early hours of the morning when Hiccup sneaks into the village.

Well, perhaps sneak is the wrong word. Since the reveal of his identity, it’s clear he’s not barred from it anymore—because he was , no matter how poorly Astrid may have tried to hide it. He wasn’t exactly eager to go tromping through the plaza with all eyes on him, though.

This? Slinking silently in the shadows with Toothless at his back? This is familiar. And on these old stones—the ones Hiccup first learned to walk on—even more so. 

For the first time in nearly a week, he’s been left fully alone. From other humans, at least. Knowing he’s the Chief’s son had apparently convinced them all that he’s not plotting their destruction, so Astrid finally left him to rest in her own bed. Good thing, too. She looked a day or two away from falling over ill from bad sleep.

Hiccup traces the familiar steps to the workshop. It goes much better than it did last time Toothless was with him. The dragon has learned to be silent when they walk through dangerous territory. Is that what this is? It still feels like it, sometimes.

Safely within the confines of the, admittedly, mostly wall-less workshop, Hiccup breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Alright, bud, let’s get you patched up,” Hiccup pats Toothless on his snout—the dragon rumbling under his touch.

Hiccup is just starting to take apart the infuriatingly faulty—for reasons he cannot discern—tailfin to diagnose the problem, when he hears the crashing of swords behind him.

Shoulders up to his ears, Hiccup turns on his one good heel. He’s expecting to see Toothless neck deep in something he shouldn’t be. Some things truly can’t be trained out of a dragon. Instead, he finds… an old friend.

“Hiccup,” Gobber all but sobs, as an old greeting.

Hiccup has his hand half raised to awkwardly wave, when his arms are pinned to his sides. He’s struck still as a hook presses against his back, and he gets a faceful of blond beard. A wooden peg leg collides with his metal one, hard enough for Hiccup to stumble. He’s kept upright through no effort of his own.

Gobber is… hugging him.

It’s a foreign feeling. Especially now that Hiccup is—entirely bizarrely—almost the same height as him. He can only remember being held by him once before, when Hiccup was four and really, actually realized that his mother was dead and began sobbing in the middle of a school lesson. Only this time, Hiccup is the one comforting Gobber.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hiccup tries—completely out of his depth. “Don’t, uh, be sad! I’m here. I wasn’t horrifically eaten alive by dragons, so uh—”

He gets cuffed around the back of the head by a dull metal hook. As Hiccup shouts in pain, it all feels familiar. The sting is just the same as any of the times Hiccup got caught daydreaming during Gobber’s lessons.

“And yet you let us think you were!” Gobber shouts, waving the hook in Hiccup’s face. “All these years! Six long years, Hiccup, and I thought I’d failed you! Meanwhile you were off gallivanting with dragons, while I was left to man the forge alone!”

“I’m sorry!” Hiccup cries, shrinking into himself. “I didn’t know what else to do! If I’d have known what kind of pain I was causing I would never have—”

He’s cut short as a calloused palm comes to cradle his cheek. Hiccup stops cold, mouth hanging open dumbly. Gobber smiles at him softly, a glimmer in his eye.

“I’m glad to see you, laddie,” Gobber whispers.

Hiccup swallows. “I’m glad to be back.”

Gobber pats him once, twice, and thankfully withdraws. Too much more of that and Hiccup’s skull would’ve split in two from the sheer confusion. He hobbles around Hiccup, taking him in.

“And what happened here, eh?” Gobber pokes at the thigh attached to his prosthetic.

“Oh, ah…” Hiccup lifts and twists it, taking it in himself. “I got knocked off Toothless and thrown into an evil dragon’s fiery death. Burned the thing clean off.”

“And the handiwork?” Gobber raises an eyebrow.

“Mine. I’ve done what I can with what I’ve been able to scavenge together. If I had access to a proper forge there are about a dozen things I’d do differently and add onto it and…”

Gobber huffs a laugh, swatting at Hiccup with his good hand. “Well, you just stop by whenever you need, eh? My shop’s always open to you. Always has been, always will be.”

Hiccup’s heart warms. “Thank you, Gobber. Really, I can’t—”

“Save your pleasantries!” Gobber commands. “I’m not in the mood.”

He never is. Not once has Hiccup been able to thank Gobber for everything he’s taught him. All the skills he helped to cultivate. The creativity he allowed him to channel. A second home he created for Hiccup to retreat to, when actual home got to be too much. And he has never let Hiccup say thank you.

He’ll have to try a little harder.

But the man has turned his attention instead to Hiccup’s shadow. Hiccup was getting walloped and the dragon just stood there watching curiously… Some protector he is. Hiccup gives him a glare that Toothless easily ignores.

“And this is…” Gobber asks, not nervous in the face of a dragon.

“Toothless.” Hiccup provides.

“Right…” Gobber studies him. “A Night Fury, huh? How’d you manage it? Three hundred years and no Viking had ever even caught a glimpse of one, and yet…”

“Shot him down,” The guilt still stings sometimes. “It took his tailfin off—See here? He was grounded and I was curious, so well…”

“May I?” Gobber gestures to Toothless’s prosthetic tailfin, raising his eyebrows.

Seems Berkians still don’t think of dragons as sentient enough to have their own desires and consent. Vikings will accept their presence well enough, but apparently still don’t think of them as distinct individuals. Maybe… Maybe Hiccup can help show them that.

Hiccup raises his eyebrows at Toothless, questioning. The dragon scrunches his nose a bit—still feeling unfriendly—but presents his tail for inspection. As the two blacksmiths hobble over to him, Hiccup runs a hand over his wing in thanks. Toothless pushes against him playfully.

“This is… nothing short of pure genius.” Gobber looks at Hiccup with amazement. “How’d you even come up with it?”

Hiccup shrugs, shy. “It’s pretty simple, really. I’d demonstrate the mechanism for you, but I switched out the connector rod and now the damned thing won’t open properly. I’ve been messing with it all morning and—”

He cuts himself off, realizing that he’s running his mouth. It was always something he got scolded for as a child. Conciseness does not come easy. But now, he isn’t snapped at—Gobber is looking at him… fondly .

“Well, let’s take a look at it together then,” Gobber suggests lightly.

✧

Astrid arrives on the steps of the Chief’s house oddly nervous. She resents that. Of course, she’s been here before, it’s just another part of the village. But it’s always felt like… hallowed ground. It’s the house he shared with his dead son, after all. 

Except, that son isn’t dead anymore, so she should just stop being dramatic and go inside.

It’s for exactly that reason—the son, risen again—that Astrid has been invited here. Apparently it’s time for a genuine father-son reunion. One that isn’t yelling at each other in the town plaza, that is. 

Why is she here? Stoick had asked her to be. Then, Hiccup had asked her. Even Gobber , who has also been drawn in as a guest, had asked her to come.

After all, she knows Hiccup— this version of Hiccup—better than anyone else. With her to mediate, how could it go wrong? Surely it will be fine. They have to have gotten all the arguing out of their system by now, right?

Right?

Letting out one deep breath, Astrid pushes the door open. It’s just as she remembers. A surprisingly modest home, with a small dining table and hearth at the center. Stairs trail up the left hand wall.

Stoick and Gobber are there at the table, organizing the food they’ve retrieved from the Great Hall. It caused quite a few whispers, knowing that the Chief wouldn’t be joining them for dinner. Astrid had feared she’d have to fight off the twins and Snotlout herself. But so far, everyone has behaved.

Maybe they all can feel how important this is. Father and son, speaking properly for the first time in all these years… The Chief and his son, the one they’ve all mourned for. And they’re finally together again.

Astrid can’t quite shake out her jitters.

Moving slow and silent as a shadow, Hiccup descends from the second floor. It used to be his room, she thinks. Behind him slinks darkness itself—Toothless, never far from his beloved rider. That Stoick let a dragon into his home… Well, that says it all, really.

When he looks over at her, there’s something like relief and gratitude in Hiccup’s eyes. Astrid wonders when that happened. Hardly a few days ago they were still treating each other like they were both one wrong move from getting a few fingers sliced off. And now…

He steels his shoulders, making his way to the table. Already, Gobber and Stoick are settling down. Jolting back to herself, Astrid figures that she should too. The Night Fury—curled up comfortably behind Hiccup’s chair—gazes up at her with wide, friendly green eyes as she passes.

Lowering into her chair at Stoick’s right sends a shock of memories to Astrid. Last time she was here at this table… It had to have been three, four years ago. He’d asked her to be his heir. She hadn’t been able to say yes at first, but he convinced her.

It’s a position she’d sat in ever since, right at his side. Somehow, it’s different now, with Hiccup sitting across from Stoick. Thinking of her place alongside the Chief—how she’s replaced Hiccup in everything but name—feels like a betrayal now. She can’t quite look over at Hiccup.

“Son,” The pride in Stoick’s voice is near overwhelming. “We’re so thankful to have you back. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” Hiccup is still just as terrible with his words as he was when they were children.

Astrid suppresses a smile. Equally as used to this, neither Gobber or Stoick blink. Some things never change… Well, how could it, when apparently Hiccup’s been on his own all these years? The smile fades.

“Does the, uhm,” Stoick clears his throat. “Does the dragon need his own meal?”

Hiccup only shrugs, already picking apart a bit of chicken and holding it back behind his chair. “We’re fine. We share all the time. We don’t mind.”

He says that— we— so easily. Just as simply as Astrid would describe herself and her own needs. She’s been seeing it all this time, she realizes. Toothless isn’t just some pet . He’s part of Hiccup.

It’s a good thing Stoick let the dragon in—it’s unlikely Hiccup would’ve come otherwise.

“Now, you must tell us about your exploits,” Stoick sits forward, eyes glimmering with excitement. “I mean, we’ve heard tales but you know how the traders are. They exaggerate too much.”

“They probably tell it better than I could,” Hiccup admits shyly. “I don’t really… keep track of any of it. It’s just normal for me, I guess. You don’t remember every dragon attack, do you?”

“Well, no, but I remember the highlights. Come on, you must have something .”

“I don’t know. You remember them as… as stories you would tell to us children or around a hearth or whatever. I’ve never kept track of it that way.”

“Surely you’ve regaled your new tribemates?”

Astrid realizes too late that Stoick is making the same mistake she did. Thinking that Hiccup just moved on to another isle—one of dragon riders, or sympathizers, or owners. The truth is… inconceivable.

She places one firm hand on Stoick’s arm, giving him a wide eyed look to cut it out. But he’s not looking at her. He’s too enraptured with his son to even notice her.

“Why don’t we talk about—” Astrid begins, hoping to change the subject.

“Stop badgering the boy, Stoick,” Gobber chides at the same time. “The life of a celebrity—”

“There are no tribemates.” Hiccup frowns.

Stoick’s elated expression turns quickly to a scowl. “Well, that can’t be right. Surely you have someone. How else would we hear the stories?”

“I believe it’s mostly told from the men that run.”

“But you’re here ,” Stoick stresses. “Intact— mostly intact, and well fed, and grown. There’s no way you could have—”

Hiccup’s frown worsens at the insinuation. “I had Toothless. And the rest of the dragons of the flock we have built these past six years. They’ve taken care of me.”

Stoick scoffs. “Dragons do not care for anyone, boy. They were probably just fattening you up to be their next meal. You’re lucky you escaped alive.”

“Stoick, that’s not—” Astrid tries to interrupt.

It’s too far gone.

“I didn’t escape ,” Hiccup’s voice is rising—desperate to match the reach and power of his father’s. “I came here of my own free will, to rescue a dragon you captured. I never would have come if not for her.”

“I’m glad I did it then.” Stoick says, voice clipped as he takes a bite out of his chicken leg.

It gets quiet enough to send Astrid’s hair on end. Gobber is looking between the father and son like they might pry each other’s hair out, and Astrid doesn’t blame him. Their relationship had always been contentious but this…

“Hiccup, why don’t you tell us all about how you made Toothless’s tail?” Astrid suggests. “Gobber was just gushing to me earlier about how beautiful it is.”

Gobber scratches the back of his head. “Guilty!”

It seems a safe enough topic. With a tiny, minuscule amount of finesse from Hiccup they can avoid any mention of his… disappearance . And Stoick has to be proud of his son’s craftsmanship, right?

But Hiccup doesn’t acknowledge her—his gaze is on his father, and narrowing by the second.

“Why did you need that dragon?” Hiccup demands.

“Hm?” Stoick looks up, taking a falsely casual sip of his drink. 

“What did you need the Nadder for, Dad?” His voice holds no kindness.

Astrid feels herself go cold all over. No, Stoick never said. All he did was tell them to go find a dragon. But as she and the hunting party—Gobber included—marched into the woods, they all knew. She knew.

And she let it happen.

“The dragons have been a scourge on this island,” Stoick complains. “Always stealing our fish and frightening the wildlife. Gathering wood is near impossible with them prowling around. I thought if we trapped one it would free up—”

“Why now? They’ve been here for five years.”

“It’s only just become a problem—”

“Really? Them dredging up all the fish wasn’t a problem when you were recovering from a war where your biggest loss was livestock?”

“We weren’t in any state to—”

“But you are now? You have no spare weapons, Dad. I’ve been in the workshop. The raised bonfires have no fuel. Most of your youngest warriors don’t even carry weapons!”

“You have no idea what is going on in this village.” Stoick slams the table, pointing an accusatory finger at his son. “And you have no say in what I do with the dragons on my island.”

“I thought we already established that I do.” Hiccup is oddly calm.

“Not as the son who ran away for six years, you don’t!”

“Why did you need the dragon, Dad?”

“I already told you—”

“You lied !” Hiccup shouts, rising to his father’s emotion. “What was the damn dragon for?”

“I was going to kill it!”

There it is. The bitter, ugly truth of it all. Astrid thinks she might be sick. Behind Hiccup, Toothless has raised to his feet—staring at Stoick with narrowed eyes and snarling jaw. If he attacks, Astrid won’t dive out of the way. They deserve his wrath, she thinks.

“You what ?” Hiccup hisses, but he doesn’t look all that surprised.

“I was going to kill it on the anniversary of your death. As vengeance for you. For your mother. For everyone we’ve lost. It was supposed—”

“You think I would’ve wanted that?”

“The dead have no wants, Hiccup!”

Hiccup scoffs, lip curled like he’s disgusted to even be in his father’s presence. Something in Astrid’s heart cracks. No, this… no . They were supposed to be okay. The two of them—they’re all the other has. They’re supposed to be okay .

“You’re a disgrace.” Hiccup pushes up from his chair. “I can’t believe I ever called myself your son.”

The door banging closed behind Hiccup and Toothless makes Astrid flinch. But she’s not half as bad as Stoick, who looks like his whole world has just ended. She hasn’t seen him like this since… Well, since he didn’t have a son anymore.

She has to fix this .

✦

“Wait!”

Hiccup looks up from where he was adjusting Toothless’s saddle. He’s too numb to startle at the sudden shout. Still, he’s confused. After all that, she tracks him down in the middle of the woods when it’s completely dark out?

“Wait, just…” Astrid runs up in front of him, breathing hard. “Please don’t go. I know that was… but please, you can’t just leave. There’s still so much you can teach us and—”

Hiccup sighs, mustering his best reassuring smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Toothless’s tail is just finally fixed and I need to clear my head, so we were going for a flight. I’ll be back before dawn, I promise.”

Without looking at her, he pulls himself up into the saddle. It’s a practiced motion that sets something right in his chest. Atop Toothless, ready to push off into the sky… he never feels better. It feels better to know that they can leave. If he needs to, they can go.

“Oh, right…” Astrid mutters, stepping back to give them room.

Hiccup gives her a tight smile. He pats Toothless on the head once, twice. But instead of lifting off, the dragon cranes his head back to look at Hiccup quizzically. All Hiccup can do is stare back dumbly. Usually he’s so in tune with what Toothless is saying, but right now he may as well be speaking—well, dragon .

Exasperated, Toothless looks from Hiccup, over to Astrid, back to Hiccup. Hiccup repeats the motion, eyebrows raised. Toothless twists his head to slap Hiccup in the neck with his ear. That finally makes it start to set in.

After he’s done crying out in pain, Hiccup looks nervously over at Astrid. “Would you, uh… Would you like to join us?”

It apparently takes a beat for the words to sink in. Hiccup is left staring at her, his face heating oddly. Embarrassment is familiar to him, but this twinges with something… different. But the dragon doesn’t move. Hiccup is stuck here facing this down.

Once it clicks, Astrid’s eyes blow wide. “ Me ? Join you for— Flying ?”

It’s barely Norse. Hiccup can’t help a smile, feeling oddly fond . He’s not entirely surprised that she’s having trouble putting it all together. Just a week ago she was still helping hold dragons captive. Flying with one? That’s near inconceivable.

Hiccup remembers that feeling. He also remembers the unwavering excitement that washed over him at the prospect. It projects out of his memory right onto Astrid’s face.

She hesitates, looking down to Toothless. “Is that okay with…?”

Of course she would be the first Viking to consider a dragon’s feelings.

Hiccup shrugs one shoulder, still smiling. “His idea.”

Astrid visibly gulps, still locked on Toothless. Oh so carefully, she creeps up to the dragon. He hums at her presence. Just like she did to the Nadder, Astrid presses a hand against Toothless’s snout. Toothless presses into her touch happily, licking at her. Astrid giggles.

“Okay.” She’s breathless when she looks up at him. “Just don’t let me fall.”

“Never.” Hiccup promises seriously. 

He reaches a hand down for her. Still, she’s hesitant when she takes it. She’s strong enough to not need his help mounting Toothless, but she seemed to need some direction. Her fingers are warm and calloused.

It’s strange, having someone settle onto Toothless behind him. Sure, his mother had ridden with him when he’s been explaining how the tail works so she could fly him. But this feels entirely different to that.

When Hiccup pats Toothless again—their regular signal to take off—the dragon actually listens this time. He’s gentler than normal. Maybe Hiccup could convince himself that he’s just getting used to the repaired tail, but he knows it’s entirely due to the foreign weight behind him.

At the first real jolt forward, Astrid yells and falls against Hiccup’s back. Her hands splay on his waist. She doesn’t really have anything else to hold on to, so he doesn’t complain. There’s no real reason to…

Toothless takes them up, up, up into the clouds. Being in the air again sends Hiccup’s heart spinning in ways he knows Toothless won’t do with Astrid aboard. There’s no feeling like this. He wouldn’t give it up for anything.

They’re both itching to get out and really fly. But with their unexpected passenger, they take things easy. Toothless is exceptionally gentle when he wants to be. Very privately, Hiccup is glad for his caution considering the changes to his tail. Last thing they need is for Toothless to blast off at full speed and have the tail come apart mid wingbeat.

As they skim just under the clouds, Astrid detaches a hand from his waist. Her fingers trail through the vapor. Even in the dark, her smile is bright enough to warm Hiccup’s skin.

They cruise through the air gently. Toothless takes them just fast enough to send the wind crowding into their ears, but not enough to completely block out the feeling of Astrid’s breath on his neck. It takes a lot of self control not to shiver.

For a while, Hiccup lets Toothless lead them along. He just clicks the tail into place to handle his maneuvers. But as the moon reaches its peak, Hiccup tugs at the saddle, guiding him back toward the village.

They come from a break in the clouds, the village of Berk coming into view in a series of warm flickering lights. Behind him, Astrid gasps lightly. She presses further against him as she leans forward to get a better look. Her arms wrap fully around his waist.

Toothless guides them up, circling around the island’s tallest peaks. From there, they dive down to sea level, skimming just over the surface. Astrid’s laugh harmonizes with the sea spray.

Apart from his mother, Hiccup’s never gotten to share this with anyone. And with her, it was always different. She’d already done it all. But with Astrid… he’s getting to watch her experience it, piece by piece. It makes him just as giddy as he was back then, discovering it all for himself.

They reach up high enough to almost touch the moon itself. Sighing happily, Astrid leans her chin on Hiccup’s shoulder. Her arms are still wrapped snugly around Hiccup’s waist. 

They fly until morning, and then fly some more.

Chapter Text

It’s a perfectly ordinary, peaceful day—until the whispers come.

“Since when do dragons fight over sticks?”

“Maybe it’s a dominance thing?”

“Maybe you’re a dominance thing.”

“ What ?”

“ Ow ! You stepped on my foot, fatass.”

“Hey, we’re twins. If my ass is fat, half of it is because of you.”

“Oh, right.”

“Guys, be quiet! Otherwise they’ll catch us and—”

Astrid whirls around to the sloped tunnel entrance of the arena. And—yep. Peeking around the corner are her most constant headaches. All they had to do was behave for one more day…

Seething quietly—hoping Hiccup doesn’t notice—Astrid marches over to her former classmates. At the sight of her, they all blanche. Good, they know what’s coming to them. 

“It was Snotlout’s idea!” Fishlegs squeaks, hands in the air.

Snotlout looks at him betrayed. “Hey, you’re the one who brought up Hiccup in the first place—”

“Actually it was his dragon .”

“Either way, you know me and Ruff are just innocent bystanders, right?”

As if the twins could ever be innocent bystanders ever . Astrid grumbles, palm on Tuffnut’s face as she pushes past. At least they’re all looking equally petrified of her. 

“One day.” Astrid hisses. “I needed you to behave for one more day. He’ll even be at the feast tomorrow. You could’ve bothered him then. But no . You always have to get in the way—”

“Hey, it’s fine.”

All the young warriors—Astrid included—turn on their heels at once. Under the sudden attention, Hiccup shifts nervously on his prosthetic leg. He looks increasingly unsure about speaking up. 

“I mean, it’s—” Hiccup falls over his own words. “We grew up together, right? And now I come back from the dead, riding dragons… Of course they’re curious.”

Some of the tension releases from Astrid’s shoulders. If Hiccup doesn’t mind then… they can’t do too much harm, right? No, that’s giving them too much credit. But at least she only has to keep an eye on them, rather than scare them away.

Hiccup grins sheepishly at them. “You want to meet the dragons?”

Fishlegs nearly falls to his face in his rush to extract himself from the hoard and offer himself as tribute. The twins aren’t far behind. Snotlout is reluctant, but refuses to be shown up, so he trails behind.

Astrid hurries to Hiccup’s side, speaking hurriedly to him under her breath. “Is that really a good idea?” 

But Hiccup isn’t paying attention to her. He’s caught up in the way the young Vikings are watching Toothless and the Nadder play, completely shocked still. There’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“What could go wrong?” Hiccup asks genuinely.

Astrid scoffs. “With the twins? Anything . They’ve only gotten worse since you left, Hiccup—”

“So what, that thing is your pet?” Snotlout demands loudly, proudly, looking for a fight as he sizes Hiccup up.

Hiccup is taller than him now. That little observation brings Astrid far too much joy. She clears her throat to tamp down a petty smile.

Of course, Hiccup doesn’t rise to Snotlout’s bait. He steps towards them calmly. Fishlegs shrinks back from him, like he’s still emanating the aura of the Dragon Master. Well, he’s not wrong. There’s a confidence about Hiccup that he entirely lacked as a child. 

“His name is Toothless,” Hiccup provides patiently. “He’s less of a pet and more of a companion.”

“He’s like, some Chief of Dragons, isn’t he?” Ruffnut asks, picking her nose casually. “How did you do that? You couldn’t even make eye contact as a kid.”

“He became Alpha after we were already friends. But either way, he’s not high and mighty about it. I think we would’ve figured it out anyways.”

The Nadder finally wrenches the tree trunk from Toothless. She holds it high enough that the Night Fury has to jump for it. Most of his energy has already been used up at this point, so he huffs a grumpy sigh and leaves her with her prize.

It’s only then the dragons seem to fully acknowledge their new company. Toothless’s loss fades as the dragon pads forward with wide, curious eyes. He slinks up to Hiccup easily. As always, Hiccup’s hands are on him—natural as breathing.

Under the attention of the dragon, Snotlout skitters back. The twins snicker at him. Fishlegs is gripping his journal, but is shaking with excitement too much to actually write anything. 

“Hey, he won’t bite.” Hiccup laughs softly. “Not unless you give him a reason to, at least.”

“I don’t understand how you can do that.” Snotlout scoffs. “ Cuddle up to a dragon. As if they haven’t slaughtered almost your entire village.”

Hiccup seems unfazed. “And how many dragons have we killed? Entire families? Entire bloodlines? Entire nests ? It goes both ways. Both dragons and humans need to find a way forward. Together .”

Astrid startles as a warm beak nudges at her arm. The Nadder has come over, begging for attention—like she is wont to do. Absentmindedly, Astrid rests a hand on her horn. The dragon clicks and purrs happily.

“Woah, Astrid has a dragon now too!” Ruffnut exclaims.

Astrid flushes. “What? No . She’s just… friendly, that’s all. I’m sure she’d treat any of you the same. She’s not mine.”

Hiccup raises an eyebrow at her. Astrid can’t look directly at him. There’s a strange sort of… guilt pulling at her stomach. The Nadder nuzzles her a little, and the back of Astrid’s neck begins to burn.

“Hiccup is taking her back to his nest anyways.” Astrid rushes, defensive. “That’s the whole reason he came back. She’s leaving with him.”

As soon as her mouth closes, she worries that she’s said too much. Her words worked—the attention off of her. Now the Vikings are looking at Hiccup with a cacophony of emotions too intense for her to parse.

“You’re leaving?” Tuffnut demands. “But you just got resurrected!”

“Yeah, how are we supposed to take advantage of your new fame if you’re gone!” Ruffnut whines.

Tuffnut elbows her in the ribs so hard she nearly falls over. Never subtle, those two. Astrid gives them a hearty glare for it.

“Hey, you can’t just go!” Snotlout argues. “You brought all those dragons into the village! What if they come back? What are we supposed to do? Not all of us want monsters for pets!”

Toothless growls at that. Snotlout nearly leaps out of his helmet. Hiccup pats Toothless a few times, getting him to stand down. Unfortunately, it seems that Snotlout’s point has already been proven. 

“The dragons won’t bother you unless you give them a reason to.” Hiccup reassures. “They came to see Toothless, not to bother you guys. If they do come back, it’ll just be because they’re curious. Give them some space and they’ll move on. They’re just like any other wild animal.”

“We usually hunt animals as dangerous as them.” Snotlout points out.

“Well, you’re welcome to.” Hiccup shrugs. “Just know that these animals will hunt back . And they breathe fire. So, your call, really.”

“If that’s true, how do you tame one?” Fishlegs asks, nervously eyeing Toothless.

Hiccup hesitates. “That’s not really something I would suggest trying unsupervised—”

“No, I would—I would never ,” Fishlegs rushes, and Astrid believes him based on how he looks like he’s going to pass out simply at the thought. “Just for—for my records. And my own curiosity…. How did you do it?”

Hiccup looks down, meeting Toothless’s eye. It’s moments like these that he seems so… so wise— so untouchable. Like he’s a breed all his own, positioned far above the measly Vikings around him. 

It’s moments like these that Astrid remembers he really is the Dragon Master.

“Honestly?” Hiccup doesn’t look away from Toothless. “All it takes is a little kindness. If a dragon knows you won’t hurt them, and you can show them that you’re not so different from them, they’re quite friendly.”

Astrid wonders if that’s what she did to the Nadder without realizing it. There’s something more to it though… A sort of draw she can’t explain. Showing she wasn’t a threat was enough to get Toothless comfortable with her, but the Nadder…

She looks over her shoulder to where the Nadder is still nudging fondly at her, and something in her chest swells.

“Now, come on.” Hiccup reaches for Snotlout’s hand. “You wanted to see the dragon—”

“Hey, wait!” Snotlout skitters back from him, but Hiccup follows. “What are you doing?”

Hiccup stops, raising his eyebrows. “Ah, so you really are just as big of a wimp as you were when we were teenagers.”

He turns around, back to Toothless’s side. Snotlout stares after him, mouth agape. Astrid isn’t much better. When they were teenagers, Hiccup could always get a bit mouthy, but he was never confrontational .

“No!” Snotlout yells in protest. “No, I was never— You don’t get to say that to me, when you were so scared to kill a dragon that you left— ”

“Hey,” Astrid snaps. “You don’t get to—”

Hiccup leans against Toothless, crossing his arms. “Then come prove it. Come over here and touch the dragon, Snotlout. Show us all how brave and mighty you are.”

All the Vikings turn to Snotlout then. And Astrid knows—Hiccup has caught him. How is Snotlout supposed to back down from a challenge like that? How is any Viking supposed to? 

Snotlout is almost visibly boiling, but he complies. With short, angry steps he approaches Toothless. As he gets closer, the dragon reveals his teeth—none too happy about the whole thing. Hiccup seems unfazed.

“Alright, see!” Snotlout declares once he’s within touching distance. “I did it! Now, take back what you said—”

“I said to touch him, Snotlout. Right here, on the snout. It’s what I did. See how that’s worked out for me? The whole Archipelago knows who I am.”

Snotlout shouts, too angry to keep it all inside. Toothless growls to match him. With a shivering hand, Snotlout reaches out, but Toothless is still bristling. The dragon snaps at him as a warning.

Snotlout falls back, tumbling onto his ass. “See! He just tried to eat me! You brought a wild beast in here—”

Hiccup shrugs. “You made him upset with what you said earlier. What did you call dragons… monsters , was it? That’s a little far, I think.”

This is starting to seem like unusual punishment, but Astrid lets it go on. It’s not like Snotlout is being held hostage. Well, not by anything except for his pride , at least. This is over whenever he says it is. If it gets too dangerous, she’ll do something about it, but for now…

Snotlout gets back to his feet, whining quietly to himself and the gods. Finally, he meets Toothless’s eye. He’s trembling all over.

“Sorry, Mr. Dragon.” Snotlout mutters. “For saying that dragons are bad. Yes, dragons do eat people, but I guess you don’t, so I’m sorry.”

Toothless backs down immediately, perking his ears up. He shakes Hiccup off him, prowling forward towards Snotlout. There’s a moment where Astrid worries that Snotlout will pass out right then. But he holds still while Toothless sniffs at him.

Once Toothless is done with his assessment, Snotlout holds his hand out again. Toothless gently bumps his snout against his palm. At the touch, Snotlout laughs triumphantly. There’s something dangerous twinkling in his eyes.

Astrid worries she’ll have to stop Snotlout from charging into the forest looking for a dragon of his own.

“Very good,” Hiccup acquiesces, before turning to the rest of the group. “Alright, who's next?”

✦

A full day after the disastrous dinner, Hiccup goes to find his father.

It’s nightfall by the time he tracks him down, sitting at the edges of the dock watching the moon rise. It’s not somewhere Hiccup ever remembers him going. But things have changed. A lot has changed.

He makes no attempt to hide his footsteps as he comes up behind his father. The great man doesn’t even bother a look over his shoulder to see who it is. Well, the peg leg makes Hiccup’s gait pretty recognizable.

Carefully—ready to leave if his father requests it—Hiccup settles next to him. Still, his father doesn’t look at him. Hiccup’s own gaze is settled down at his hands. He fidgets, trying to find the words.

It bothered him all through the night, and into the day. Everything he’d said to his father. All that had been thrown back at him. It sits at the bottom of his stomach, heavy as stone. 

He could just leave again. Part of him really, really wants to. But seeing the pain he’s already caused stops him. No, he can’t do that again…

Hiccup has never wanted to fight with his father. Well, maybe in the heat of the moment. But back then, all through his childhood and into his teens, the only thing he wanted was for them to get along . For his father to be proud of him. For love to be made easy, can it please just be easy .

They didn’t get it right back then. There was no fight to break things, but there was no reason to stay either. It’s… different now. They’re both different.

Maybe they can get it right this time.

“I’m sorry,” Hiccup is quiet, afraid to break the silence. “For everything I said. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”

His father doesn’t speak for a long, long time. Hiccup almost gets up to leave him in his peace. He worries that he’s broken it too bad this time.

“You were right.” His father whispers, soft and scathing as the ocean wind.

“No, I wasn’t,” Hiccup stresses, turning fully to him. “That wasn’t—It wasn’t okay of me. I’m proud to be your son, I always have been. It’s just—It’s hard to fill your shadow—”

“I lied to you again.” His father admits. “The dragon wasn’t for you. Not really. It was for me. To make me feel better. To make me feel like I was… I was doing something about this hole in my chest.”

“I shouldn’t have left.” Hiccup mutters bitterly.

“No, you should have. I mean… Look at yourself, son. You’ve grown into a fierce warrior and a good man. You fight for what you believe in. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

“Even if I believe in saving dragons?”

“Even so.”

Feeling his pride now stings. He wasn’t even asking for it, and now finally… And maybe that’s the point. Maybe Hiccup did need to leave. Maybe he needed to be on his own to find himself.

But he thinks of those cold, lonely nights. All the times that days, weeks would pass with Hiccup having no one to talk to. How he so violently shoved any thought of Berk or his life before away.

It was times like those that he really could have used his dad.

Maybe if he hadn’t left, things would be different. Maybe he could’ve found a way to convince his father—to convince all of Berk. Maybe he could’ve had a tribe and a flock all this time.

There’s no use in lamenting about it. His decisions are his own, and they were made years ago. They all have to live with it now.

Except things have changed. Hiccup is different. His father is different. Maybe Berk could be different too.

“I know you don’t owe me anything but—” Hiccup rushes. “Can you please just promise me that—”

“Anything.” His father is unwavering.

A lump forms in Hiccup’s throat. “Promise me that you won’t hurt any more dragons, Dad. Not for me, or yourself, or anyone. Promise .”

Finally, his father looks over at him. There’s a moment where his father only studies him, and Hiccup feels ten years old again. How silly. A grown man, begging his father for a promise that he may not be able to keep.

“Alright, son.” His father agrees. “I promise. Dragons are welcome on Berk. Including you and yours, whenever you might… wish to…”

“I do,” Hiccup whispers. “I won’t leave you again.”

A giant hand closes around his far shoulder, pulling him in tightly. The air in Hiccup’s lungs is knocked free as he collides with his father’s side. Once he’s regained his center, he relaxes. 

Carefully, he leans his head on his father’s chest, and decides everything will be okay.

✧

All week, Astrid has been desperately avoiding the strange Deadly Nadder that’s grown so attached to her. 

Now, on the eve of her leaving, Astrid seeks her out.

It’s a rare moment where Hiccup has left both Astrid and the wild dragon alone. He’s off taking his Night Fury for another flight. Having stretched her own wings earlier in the day, the Nadder decided to stay behind. Some very selfish part of Astrid hopes she stayed behind for her too.

Astrid creeps carefully into the—former—dragon fighting arena. Despite being previously caged there, the Nadderhead has taken up an easy residence there. She sits comfortably among the bed of dried hay Hiccup has built for her.

“Hey, girl…” Astrid mutters as she approaches.

Pleasantly aware of her presence, the Nadder seems to preen at her words. Her crown of horns flick and vibrate as she purrs. As simple as breathing, Astrid places a hand on her beak. The dragon nuzzles her.

Astrid laughs wetly. “I’m glad to see you too.”

And strangely, it’s true. The Deadly Nadder had become a familiar, welcome part of her days this past week. It’s impossible to deny their connection any longer. Something about being around the dragon just… feels safe .

Insane. She’s gone insane, she has to have. Safe around a dragon—the very beast that used to tear her village apart and eat her people one limb at a time. And here Astrid is, petting one.

“Look at me, huh?” Astrid chuckles. “Some Viking warrior I turned out to be… What would my parents think? What would Stoick think? Gods, if he ever finds out about this…”

She looks around, suddenly paranoid. Of course, the ring around the arena is empty. Even the other young warriors haven’t bothered them since Hiccup cajoled them all into approaching Toothless. It’s unlikely they’ll say anything to Stoick about her schmoozing with dragons, considering they’ve done the exact same thing.

As if reading her conflicted emotions, the Nadder whines and nudges her hand. She pushes past her grip, nosing at her chest instead. It’s almost a… hug . Astrid can’t help a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” Astrid pats her head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. This isn’t… wrong. I’m glad to have met you.”

The dragon hums contentedly. Her whole body vibrates with it, sending the shocks down Astrid’s spine. She traces her fingers along the Nadder’s curved horn. Sadness pulls her stomach downward.

“But you have to go.” Astrid’s voice breaks, and she’s all too glad no one else is around to see her. “You’ll be safer with Hiccup and Toothless. They’ll take you to their home, and introduce you to other dragons, and… and no one will ever try to hurt you again.”

Sensing her feelings again, the dragon begins to whine. She pushes further at Astrid’s chest. She gets insistent enough that Astrid is knocked to her butt. All she can do is blink in surprise as the dragon wraps her wings over Astrid and pulls her up under her chin. 

Hesitantly, Astrid brings her arms up to embrace the dragon back.

Just like that, Hiccup finds them not ten minutes later. As he climbs off Toothless, Astrid blanches. She tries to extract herself from the Nadder, but she refuses to let Astrid go.

“It’s not—She just—” Astrid tries.

Hiccup looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Nadders are… possessive. They don’t like giving up what they’ve decided is theirs.”

It doesn’t feel as bad as it should, being thought of as belonging to a dragon.

Despite his humor at the situation, Hiccup takes pity on her. Removing his flight gloves, he approaches them. A few clicks at the back of his throat, and a strange hand movement, and the Nadder lets Astrid go with one last nuzzle to the back of her head.

Though she doesn’t seem too happy about it, the Nadderhead goes over to click and squawk at Toothless. As usual, they begin to play. Silently, Astrid and Hiccup watch them.

After a few minutes, Hiccup speaks up hesitantly. “You know, she doesn’t… have to go with us.”

“What?” Astrid whips around to look at him.

Hiccup grins softly, just she just proved him right about something. “I mean, I just came here to make sure she was safe. As long as Berk has really turned over a new leaf… And I mean, if someone was willing to keep an eye on her—”

“Yes.” Astrid answers immediately. “I mean, uhm, sure. I can—I can do that. For what it’s worth, people in the village do respect me. If I said she was under my protection—”

Hiccup shrugs. “I don’t see the harm in it then. She chose to live in this place anyways. It’d be cruel to take her from her home. It’s… It’s not so bad here.”

The admission feels much bigger than this conversation. But Astrid can’t decipher it right now. She’s too overcome with relief that the dragon— her dragon—doesn’t have to leave. And then too embarrassed by that thought. 

“Thank you.” Astrid whispers.

Hiccup only grins knowingly at her.

✦

Hiccup is entirely nauseous as he makes his way up the steps to the Great Hall. All eyes are on him as he goes. They look at him with much less reverence—and also much less dread — than they did before he took the mask off.

Now, Hiccup doesn’t have the first idea what they must be feeling when they look at him.

At the very least, he must seem crazed—with two dragons at his heels. This will be good for the Berkians, he hopes. Maybe eating with dragons will make them realize they’re not so different. Just a fanatic dream, no doubt. But he has to try .

Astrid learned differently. The other young warriors were at least willing to approach the dragons by the end of their session. Even his father seems acceptant of Toothless’s presence now. There is a single ember of hope and Hiccup holds onto it tightly.

The less people that are afraid of dragons, the easier his job gets.

There is one singular perk to the fear, however. Flanked by the dragons, no one stands in his way. Unlike all the rest, Hiccup doesn’t have to wait for entrance to the feast.

Surprisingly, he’s greeted not far from the door by Gobber and his father. All the pain is gone from his father’s expression—at least for now. Hiccup lets his own fade away too.

For the first time in his life, Hiccup is invited to eat at the high table. He’s settled between his father and Astrid. As the feast is announced to begin, a proud hand sits on either of his shoulders. 

Toothless and the Nadder have their own space made for them in one of the corners. A few of the braver children bring them a spread of cooked chicken and fish. The dragons excitedly eat their share, and fight over the bones. If either is bothered by the stares they get, they don’t show it.

As the food runs out and the mead sets in, a crowd gathers around. Front and center, are the former trainees. Once more, Hiccup is poked and prodded about his grand adventures.

His initial thought is to rebuke the attention and shoo them away. But then he remembers his father’s words and assumptions. Surely he’s regaled someone ? Maybe it’s time he start. With a bit of help from Fishlegs, he remembers the stories—embellishing here and there, and leaving out the more worrying details. Just like he would do back home to Mom—

And Mom . The thought hits him like a full grown Gronckle. He glances to his father between stories. Knowing she’s alive, that she’s stayed away all these years, would it hurt him? Would he feel betrayed? Would he ever forgive her for having to raise Hiccup alone?

He shakes the thought away, as his father laughs. It doesn’t matter. After all, it’s not his decision to make. His mother has to decide whether she wants to return to Berk or not. And that’s… that’s a problem for later.

For now, Hiccup talks and he laughs. At some point, Toothless comes over to curl up on his feet under the table. He meets Astrid’s gleaming eye a few times—when she’s not taken with the Nadder nosing at her braid. 

His former tribe drinks, and they laugh, and they listen to him. They ooh, and they ahh, at the appropriate times. They question him about dragons, still skeptical of their friendly nature. 

Hiccup takes it all.

He savors every last drop of it.

✧

Just after dawn, Hiccup mounts Toothless once more.

Something deadly aches in Astrid’s chest at the sight. It’s been barely over a week—much less than that since she’s seen him fly—but she’s grown attached to that image. To the idea of him and his Night Fury coming and going.

He’s swarmed first by his former classmates, as they all talk over each other and palm each other out of the way. 

Then comes Gobber, scaring away his former pupils with ease. There’s a sharp light in his eyes as he stares up at the young man. Choked up, he places a leather roll in Hiccup’s hand. Curiously the dragon rider undoes it, revealing a fresh pair of tools, glimmering in the dawn light. Hiccup looks like he might cry too.

Stoick is next. He takes his son’s hand between two of his own. Despite Hiccup’s growth, it’s still enveloped easily. They exchange gentle words, and Hiccup smiles softly. The Chief is as overcome with emotion as he ever is when he ducks away. 

Somehow, it’s Astrid’s turn. She steps forward as if in a dream. Nothing about this feels real. Not their meeting. Not his identity. Not any part of this last week. 

And certainly not his leaving.

Ducking behind her, the Nadder—that has insisted on following her every step—goes up to Toothless. She bows to him. Toothless whines, and she straightens up immediately. They click and squawk at each other.

As they fall into their usual routine, Astrid looks up at Hiccup. His dark hair turns to fire in the sunlight. He was always cute when they were younger, but somewhere along these last six years, he’s gotten seriously handsome.

She loses her breath as he looks over to her, oddly desperate.

Just as she opens her mouth to say goodbye, he steals the air from her lungs.

“Come with me,” he proposes.

All she can do is stare up at him, slack jawed. 

“I can—I can show you everything,” Hiccup continues, insistent. “The nest, the dragons— everything I’ve learned. I can show you the Archipelago and teach you to speak to them. Everything, Astrid, everything .”

And staring up at him then, she wants to. She really, really wants to. There’s a wild gleam, deep in his green eyes, and it draws Astrid in like a starving dragon to a barrel of fish. He could ask her for anything, and she’d genuinely consider it.

But just as quickly as she builds the idea up, it comes crashing back down. She glances back, around the plaza. To her tribe. The expectant gazes of the family she’s grown into. She lands on Stoick for one heartbeat, two…

“Hiccup,” Astrid’s voice breaks. “I can’t. There are people here that need me. I would… love to, I really would, but… I’m needed here.”

She can’t go anymore than he can stay.

Deep down, she thinks he knows that.

A sad smile breaks his face, proving her right. “That’s okay. Thank you for—”

“Will you come back?”

Now it’s Hiccup’s turn to look at her wide eyed. She holds strong under the questioning gaze. There’s no overthinking this now. Somehow, it’s imperative that she knows his answer.

Just as she did, Hiccup looks away from her, into the plaza. From their classmates, to their Chief, to the children—to their tribe . Because it is their tribe. Or it can be, if he wants it.

Even as he ponders, Astrid doesn’t look away from him. She analyzes every tick of his eye, every twitch of his brow, every downward tug of his lips. It doesn’t give her the answers she craves.

Hiccup looks down, to the dragon that’s already staring up at him. He places a familiar hand between Toothless’s ears. Slowly, he smiles—an entirely private thing.

“Yes,” Hiccup looks back up at her. “I think I will.”

Astrid exhales, all the fear leaving her body at once. She matches his expression, smiling brightly. For a second, she’s lost there. In that space between them, sharp and magnetic.

Hiccup clears his throat, looking away. “But for now… Goodbye, Astrid.”

“Goodbye, Dragon Master.”

His lip twitches upward once more. Then, in a flash of shadow, the pair launch into the sky. They do a lap around the village, and the children cheer. Hiccup pulls his mask back on.

Just like that, Hiccup and Toothless return to the wind.