Chapter 1: Prologue: How to Train Your Outcast
Summary:
Trips to Outcast Island have historically not ended well for the riders, but surely that must have changed now that they're allies, right?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
If Hiccup had to choose one thing he loved most about flying with Toothless, it would be the feeling that he could finally breathe freely. Up here, there were no conflicts pressing to be solved, no Vikings that needed his council, and no chiefly responsibilities that weighed on him like a rock whenever he walked on his own two legs (well, one leg, but point stands).
Only up here could he somewhat push away the memories squeezing his mind like a vice.
Sensing his rider's thoughts returning to darker places, Toothless spun into a happy twirl and released a plasma blast that exploded into a ball of fire in front of them. Hiccup rolled his eyes and laughed with abandon as they sailed through the dissipating inferno, the heat passing harmlessly over his scale armour. It brought back memories of when he was just learning to ride, and Toothless did much the same thing, although the consequences back then were a bit more drastic.
Simpler times...
"It's been a while since I've heard you laugh like that," a voice carried to him over the rushing wind, and Hiccup looked to his right just as Astrid led Stormfly to match their pace.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Hiccup pulled on a smile.
"After the year I had, can you blame me? This is the first time in months that we've been able to get out of the village, and even longer since we went anywhere together. Seriously, if I have to convince Sven that Loki isn't trying to enthrall his sheep one more time, I might just hand the chiefhood to Gobber."
He wasn't lying -- he really did need a break, they all did. Despite that, Astrid's frown only deepened. They both knew that wasn't what she meant.
"Hiccup--"
"Look, we're almost to Outcast Island!" Fishlegs shouted as he came up on Hiccup's other side, cutting Astrid off.
Hiccup squinted at the sea below, where a small black and green dot just appeared over the horizon. It would only be a few minutes now before they reached it, but that was still plenty of time for Astrid to try and get him talking again.
Knowing that, he subtly unhooked his safety and locked Toothless' tail so he wouldn't fall out of the sky. The Night Fury gave a questioning warble when he felt the change, the sound quickly turning annoyed when he realised what his rider was planning.
Hiccup patted the dragon's head with a chuckle and stood up in his saddle, wobbling slightly in the rapid wind.
"I'll race you down!" he called to the other riders just before he let gravity take hold of him.
The feeling of free-falling rushed through him, tearing away all emotions except joy from his regained freedom, and an elated laugh burst from his lips.
It had been months since he had anything to be so purely happy about.
A wave of hot air knocked into him, throwing him slightly off-course. A red and orange ball of fire barrelled past, Snotlout's signature chant getting lost in the wind as he and Hookfang hurtled towards the island. Astrid and Stormfly passed him a second later and were quickly catching up to the first duo.
Hiccup breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't chase him instead and continued plummeting until he could distinguish the individual spikes on the rocky sea stacks dotting the sea below. Then he put his hands through the loops on his legs and spread the wings of his flightsuit, wincing slightly at the sudden change in pressure when it halted his descent.
When he stabilised himself, he found Toothless gliding next to him. The Night Fury looked down at Snotlout and Astrid, who had by then landed and were arguing over who was first, and then back to his rider with an annoyed grumble. Hiccup stuck out his tongue at the dragon and started descending in a wide spiral towards the other riders.
After a few near misses with some buildings and a group of Berserkers, he half-skidded, half-hopped to a stop in the small plaza his friends landed in. Toothless landed almost at the same moment as him, considerably more gracefully.
"You know you could actually win these races if you stayed on Toothless for once, right?" Snotlout remarked when Hiccup joined him and Astrid.
Hiccup grinned as he folded his wings. "And where's the fun in that?"
Toothless rolled his eyes and snorted, engulfing the group in a small cloud of smoke.
Nearby Outcasts were already stopping to stare at them, the adults whispering among each other and pointing their way while children stared mesmerised at the dragons. Hiccup hoped the other riders would land soon so they could go find Alvin before anyone gathered the courage to talk to them.
As if hearing his thoughts, Fishlegs and Meatlug joined them, both looking entirely unbothered that they lost the race.
When no one else appeared, Hiccup looked up and frowned.
"Does anyone see the twins and--" His answer was an explosion from a couple houses away. "Aaand I shouldn't have asked."
Sighing, he motioned for the other riders to follow him towards the growing commotion.
They only walked a short distance but it was enough to see how much Outcast island had changed since entering into a peace treaty with Berk and the other allied islands. Countless new houses had been built, looking far more homey than the old patchy huts of metal and scrap. Scorch marks and claw marks from dragon raids had faded, and even plant life was starting to thrive on the once barren stone and coarse dirt.
Hiccup couldn't help but marvel at the amount of work done in just a few years.
That marvel was then replaced by the profound feeling of dejection when they reached the source of the earlier explosion.
The twins were staring at the house they'd already managed to set on fire, looking very much like they were observing an artistic masterpiece. Barf and Belch were standing behind their riders, somehow managing to look both extremely guilty and completely innocent at the same time.
They all had yet to notice the very displeased Alvin standing right behind the Zippleback with his arms crossed, and the steadily growing crowd of angry Outcasts.
With four dragons at their backs, the arrival of the other riders didn't go unnoticed. The gathered Outcasts parted to let them pass, though some still shot them dirty looks. When it came to grudges, Vikings -- and Outcasts especially -- had a long memory.
Hiccup looked over the house, trying to gauge how much of it could be saved.
It wasn't much.
"Astrid, could you..." He gestured vaguely towards the house. To his relief, Astrid didn't stop to tease him, she just hopped onto Stormfly and went to help the Outcasts that were trying to put out the fire.
Their take-off finally alerted the twins to Hiccup's presence and they quickly hurried over to him, eyes shining with excitement.
"Hiccup! Did you know a Zippleback instinctively creates an explosion when it crash-lands while blind?" Tuffnut shouted, waving his hands around like a maniac. "And you said we didn't have anything to add to the Book of Dragons!"
Hiccup closed his eyes and let out a long, slow, and very tired sigh. He really thought the two couldn't do anything worse than that time they accidentally cut off the thumb of the Meathead tribe's Chieftess. He should have learned not to underestimate Thorstons when it came to disasters.
"Sorry, Hiccup. Windshear and I tried to stop them, but they're surprisingly..."
"Slippery?" Hiccup finished, half-smiling as he turned to Heather and Dagur who approached them with Sleuther and Windshear at their backs.
"Yes, even more than I remember," Heather agreed, her expression mirroring perfectly what Hiccup was feeling.
"But you do have to admit, brother, that explosion was kind of impressive," Dagur said, leaning over his sister's shoulder. His words earned him a starry-eyed look from the twins and a jab in the stomach from Heather.
The two siblings joined the riders as representatives of their islands; Heather as chief of the Berserkers, and Dagur in place of Mala for the Defenders of the Wing. Hiccup still remembered the meeting where the other chiefs agreed that all dragon-accustomed Alliance islands should help the rest train their riders, as well as those very chiefs' expressions when they realised that didn't just encompass Berk.
Hiccup himself had initially dreaded having the two Berserkers -- well, having Dagur -- along on such a delicate mission, especially since he was already taking the twins, but he actually ended up being thankful for it when Heather proved to be invaluable in keeping all three of the troublemakers in check.
Heavy footsteps thudded towards them and Hiccup turned to the approaching Alvin, putting on his I-am-sorry-for-whatever-the-twins-did-this-time face.
"I'm sorry about them, Alvin. They're always a bit restless after a long flight. I'll send some gold and woodworkers from Berk once I get back to help you rebuild that house, and I'm sure the twins will be more than happy to help with it," Hiccup added sharply, shooting a hard look at the twins, who had enough decency to look at least slightly ashamed.
Alvin looked over the charred remains that had by then been almost extinguished, very much looking like he was deciding what mood he was in today. Finally, he shrugged.
"Eh, don't worry about it, boy. We were about to tear that one down anyways. But next time, maybe don't descend on my village like a volley of catapult fire, ey? Some of my warriors still 'ave twitchy bow arms when it comes to dragons, especially when those dragons explode."
Hiccup nodded quickly, suppressing a relieved sigh. "Yes, that... that was actually my fault. I'll make sure it doesn't happen."
Alvin gave an unconvinced harrumph just as Astrid and Stormfly returned, joining the semicircle the other riders created behind Hiccup.
It had been only about a year since the riders last saw Alvin, and yet he had changed almost as much as his island. He now had grey streaks accenting his hair and beard and many new wrinkles on his face, mostly in the corners of his eyes, as if he laughed more than before. More than anything though, he seemed calmer.
And if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, they had changed as well.
After a moment, he shook his head slightly and spread his arms.
"Well, with that out of the way, welcome to Outcast Island! As you can see, we've redecorated quite a bit, so I hope you find your stay more comfortable than the last couple times." He laughed, the booming sound drowning out their nervous chuckles. "Now, no need to dally. Come, I'll show you lot to the arena. The trainees 'ave been gathered there since mornin'. I'll 'ave your things taken to your 'uts and send someone to show you where you'll be stayin' once you're done."
"You're not going to join dragon training?" Hiccup asked, opting not to question the time the Outcasts were gathered.
He had to stretch his steps a little to keep up with the older chief, while the other riders fell a few steps behind to guard his back. It wasn't that they didn't trust the Outcasts, but rather a simple force of habit. Heather kept Dagur to the very back of the group and away from Alvin, which he loudly pouted about.
Alvin's armour rattled as he guffawed at Hiccup's question.
"Nay. Flyin' on those fiery beasts ain't nothin' for me. I'll keep my feet planted on the ground and fight my battles with a good ol' axe and shield till Odin calls me to Valhalla. I'll leave the skies to you dragon riders."
Hiccup nodded, not really that surprised. He couldn't imagine being trapped on the ground for the rest of his life, but he understood his aerial escapades weren't for everyone.
"Besides, I 'ave my hands full with things down 'ere," Alvin continued with a scowl. "Last night, some band of 'alfwits snuck into the village and robbed 'alf the 'ouses, including mine. They're dumber than a senile Hobblegrunt if they think they're goin' to get away with all their limbs attached, but they rival a Changewing at hidin'."
"You didn't catch them?" Hiccup asked, quickly regretting it when Alvin's face scrunched up in barely contained anger.
"Not yet, but our sentries saw no ships leavin' the island, so they're still 'ere. And even if they're not, nowhere is far enough when you anger an Outcast."
Having firsthand experience with that, Hiccup could only agree. It now made sense why Alvin dismissed the twins' mess so quickly and was rushing to get them settled. Knowing someone invaded not only his island but his own home and yet was still walking free must have been occupying all his thoughts.
Rather than risk angering the man further, Hiccup opted for a different topic.
"Do your trainees have their own dragons already?"
"Every one of 'em, though it was a wee bit tougher with some. But I'm sure you can straighten 'em out."
Hiccup suppressed a shiver at the image of a group of uncooperative Outcasts on dragons. What was Odin still punishing him for?
As they entered the village square and the distant arena came into view, a group of children ran across their path, laughing as they waved wooden swords at one another. They didn't even notice their chief or the group of dragon riders and nearly ran right beneath Hookfang's claws.
Hiccup noted with satisfaction that although their clothes were slightly dirty, they looked well-fed and healthy. There weren't many children on Outcast before, and certainly not ones that were well cared for.
"This place is really starting to look up," he remarked as looked around, seeing even more signs of the island coming back to life.
Alvin nodded. "That it is, and it's all thanks to that treaty you drew up, boy. Best thing that's 'appened to this island since we settled 'ere."
"It wasn't just me," Hiccup said hurriedly, his face flushing. "You, Dagur, Mala, and all the other chiefs were just as big a part of it as me."
Alvin snorted. "You think this is the first peace treaty the clans ever tried to create? There were dozens of attempts like yours, some successful, some less so, but none came even close to this, not even the one that created the old Council of Chiefs. You 'ave a talent, boy, a talent for peace. That's rare in a Viking."
"Well, if teaching Outcasts to ride dragons is anything like teaching Berkians, that talent might come in handy," Hiccup joked, and the two chiefs shared a laugh before falling into momentary silence.
"I'm..." Alvin paused, as if the words were hard for him to say. "...thankful you all came. Considerin' our history, I wasn't sure you would want to take all of Berk's best fighters away just to train my people."
Hiccup shrugged slightly, pushing back unpleasant memories.
"Of course we came. Whatever might have happened in the past, we're allies now, Alvin. Berk will be fine without us for a while; they've got the Auxiliary riders on standby and my mom as acting chief. If anyone can keep them all in line, it's her and Cloudjumper. If those two weren't there, I'm pretty sure Berk would have burned down within a week of me being chief."
Alvin barked out another laugh and clapped Hiccup on the shoulder. It seemed much of the man's old yelling had been replaced with equally loud laughter.
"Aye, that mother of yours is as fierce as a Valkyrie and as sharp as a dragon. Back when we were kids, she was the only one that could keep Stoick and me in line. But don't sell yourself short either, boy. Not many could lead the life you and your dragon 'ave."
Hiccup swallowed thickly and nodded his thanks.
The mention of his father prodded at old wounds that refused to heal and he had to take a moment to recompose himself.
Alvin must have understood, because he spent the rest of the walk cursing out the thieves that robbed him and listing off his favourites of the items that were stolen.
Just like the entire island, the large stone pit that was the arena had changed since the last time the riders were there. All damage from both the fight with the dragon hunters and the long-passed attack of the Screaming Death had been repaired. The large chasm that once split the space was repaired with sturdy, dragon-proof metal plates. The jagged, rusted bars that once closed off the individual pens were gone, replaced by iron-reinforced wooden gates meant to keep in heat, not dragons.
In the middle of the arena stood a group of Outcasts and dragons, all of which quieted down when Hiccup's group entered.
There were mostly young adults and a couple teens, about three dozen in total. Their dragons were mainly of the more common species, but a woman near the back was grooming an adolescent Typhoomerang, and the youngest one, who looked barely thirteen or fourteen winters old, was affectionately scratching the chin of a Whispering Death.
'Good, we can work with this.' Hiccup thought as he surveyed the gathered trainees. Save for one or two exceptions, they all looked to be comfortable with their dragons.
"Well, they're all yours," Alvin said, ready to take his leave. "I 'ad my people clear out a part of the southern coast if you want to take them out of the arena. Just be careful out there. Those thieves could be hidin' in one of the lagoons, and if they're dumb enough to try robbin' my people, I wouldn't put it past 'em to attack a group like yours."
Assuring them he didn't need any help in his search for the thieves, Alvin left, and the riders quickly got to work. After a quick discussion, they split the trainees into three groups based on the strengths and weaknesses of their dragons. To the riders' relief, they all cooperated without complaints, and most even looked excited to learn.
After rechecking the groups for the final time, Hiccup clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.
"All right, listen up! This is how we'll split up for today," he called out, his voice echoing around the arena. "Ruff, Tuff, and Snotlout will take group one. They will have you focus on your firepower, teach you how to best make use of their dragons' shot limits and size, and how to make up for their lack of maneuverability. Astrid and I get group two. We'll get you started on evasive exercises, hit and run tactics, and anything else that makes use of your speed and agility. Fishlegs is in charge of group three. He'll show you how to best engage in a fight with limited speed and provide support for your teammates. We'll rotate the groups going forward so that you develop all abilities equally. Any questions?"
To his surprise, there were none.
"Well then, saddle up, everybody."
As everyone went to mount their dragons, Hiccup approached the twins separately.
"Alvin put us on the least flammable part of the island, but I don't doubt you'll make do with anything no matter what I do or say. Just please try not to cause another inter-island accident, will you?"
The two Thorstons looked at him like he was accusing them of treason.
"How dare you accuse us of such things?! Have we not earned your trust by assisting in your chiefly duties?" Ruffnut asked in a hurt tone as she mounted Barf.
Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "While I appreciate you helping with Berk's defences, I'd say training a pod of Submarippers to surround Berk with whirlpools didn't exactly convince me of your trustworthiness in training new riders."
Tuffnut gasped, holding a hand over his heart.
"How dare you! I'll have you know, that idea was only slightly flawed!"
Ruffnut shook her head sadly and pulled her brother onto Belch. "Our crafts are just not appreciated here, brother. Now come on! Our impressionable young trainees await!"
Hiccup just resigned to his fate and let them take off, their group of trainees following clumsily behind. If worse came to worst, he could always send them back to Berk. Not that it would lessen the damage, but Berkians were at least already used to the Thorston clan's mayhem.
"Keep an eye on them, will you?" he said towards Snotlout. The Jorgenson let out a long groan that faded away when Hookfang took off after the twins.
Hiccup had to chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Just a few years ago, he couldn't imagine asking Snotlout to oversee anything, especially not the twins.
He was just about to take off too when he noticed Dagur and Heather were still in the arena, looking slightly lost.
"I can't tell you two what to do, but I think Dagur will be the most useful with those three while Heather helps me and Astrid," he called out to them.
"Precisely what I was thinking, brother! Great minds really do think alike!" Dagur exclaimed happily, leaning down from Sleuther's back to pull Hiccup into a bone-crushing hug before taking off as well.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to put them all in one group?" Heather asked worriedly while Hiccup tried to reinflate his lungs.
"Good?" Hiccup gasped, laughing. "Not in the slightest. But they have the most trainees, and their skills will be best at use there."
He looked after the four and saw long tendrils of fire already bursting from the twins' direction.
"It should be fine as long as we don't lose sight of them... Probably."
Several hours later, as the sun was already beginning to dip under the horizon, Hiccup very much felt like he just repeated the entire first month of dragons living on Berk.
While the older Outcasts were wary of dragons in the same way Berkians used to be, they were even less trusting, and although the younger ones were more open-minded, they got easily discouraged when they didn't succeed at first try. This made it hard to address everyone's problems at once, but most of the trainees were still making considerable progress.
Hiccup's friends were all doing relatively well in their roles, although Fishlegs was having a bit of trouble getting the Outcasts to listen to his instructions, and the twins frequently got sidetracked by their own spur-of-the-moment quests for destruction that Snotlout had to hunt them down from, leaving the trainees to Dagur Hiccup was slightly terrified by the fact that the Berserker actually seemed to be the one having the most success.
Astrid wasn't doing half bad either, even more so while she was working with Heather. The two women's methods pushed their trainees to the limit, but allowed them to make the most progress.
That couldn't be said for two particular trainees that were the source of most of Hiccup's exhaustion.
They were incredibly hard-headed and remained firmly rooted in their belief that their shared Zippleback should subject to them. After many fruitless attempts to get them on the same level as the rest of the group, Hiccup took them aside for personal instructions, but no matter what he tried, the two just wouldn't stop throwing their Zippleback around like a wooden horse.
In the end, Hiccup just sent them to take another lap around a nearby sea stack. He didn't expect it to help anymore, he just really needed a moment without their confused and defiant faces staring at him.
As he tried to ease the painful pulsing in his temples, Astrid approached him with her half of the trainees. They had just finished a series of complicated loops and spirals meant to get them used to rapid changes of direction, and many of the Outcasts -- and even some of their dragons -- were now looking somewhat green.
"So, are you regretting this yet?" Astrid asked, a wide grin on her face.
Hiccup rolled his eyes. Astrid had been telling him he would regret his decision to help train new riders the moment they left the room they signed the treaty in.
"Maybe a little. I might have to tell Alvin that these two are a lost cause."
Astrid's grin widened, and Hiccup, who felt an "I told you so!" coming on, threw up his hands.
"Well, it's not like I could have just straight up refuse the chiefs when they asked! It makes sense that we help them adapt to a life alongside dragons. And--" He glanced at the trainees to make sure they were out of earshot and lowered his voice. "-- even though we're allies now, knowing some of the chiefs, they might as well start a war if I don't agree to their requests. Or the less crazy ones at least."
Astrid laughed.
"Well, war or no war, you need to learn to put your foot down a little. Your mom and I can't solve tough negotiations forever."
"All right, then I'll leave negotiating the next treaty that Dagur is a part of to you. Happy?" Hiccup said, and it was his turn to laugh when Astrid's expression was overtaken by unbridled horror at the idea.
Before either could continue their banter, a yell tore through the sky.
The two trainees that Hiccup sent towards the sea stack were plummeting towards the ocean, their Zippleback's wings tangled in a bola.
It took Hiccup all of three seconds to locate the ship it had been launched from. The symbol on their sails was more than familiar to him.
Dragon hunters.
"Get back to the ground and warn Alvin! We'll take care of this," he shouted at their trainees before giving Toothless a nudge and pointing him at the enemy ship.
They dove straight down, Astrid and Heather right behind them. In the corner of his eye, Hiccup could see the other riders converging on the same point from their parts of the beach, their trainees also returning to the village.
They reached the ship before the hunters could even gather themselves enough to try to shoot them down. Toothless landed on top of a hunter and immediately knocked two others overboard with his tail, while Hiccup jumped on a third. Seconds later, the other riders landed all around them and eagerly joined the fight. There were only about fifteen hunters on deck and they obviously weren't prepared to face experienced dragon riders, so the fight was short and mostly one-sided, accompanied by Dagur's maniacal laughter.
Before long, the captured Outcasts were freed and on their way to shore, and Hiccup and his friends stormed the cargo hold, freeing the few captured dragons and chasing the remaining hunters out for their dragons, Dagur, and Heather to throw into the sea.
Snotlout was in his moment of glory, kicking the last hunter outside into Hookfang's claws, when his eye caught a flash of gold through a small barred window on a locked door.
He retreated a little and peeked through it to see a room that was most likely intended as a storage for the hunters' loot. It was packed with scrolls, weapons, pieces of furniture, and countless other trinkets, but what inexplicably caught Snotlout's eye was a beautiful, albeit small wooden chest with shiny golden engravings.
"Hello, gorgeous," Snotlout whistled, his mission to free dragons forgotten. With a bit of cursing, he managed to break the lock on the door and strode over to the chest. "Now you look like you're hiding something worthy of the Snotman."
After striking his (very necessary) pose, he gingerly pulled the chest out of the pile and looked it over. It was obviously old; the wood was scratched and brittle, and the lock nearly rusted off, but the gold was spotless and shiny, almost as if someone had just polished it. Snotlout couldn't understand why the hunters would only take care of one part of their loot.
He went to open the chest, but just as his fingers brushed the top, he heard Hiccup calling them from the direction of the cells. That made him remember they were currently inside a dragon hunter ship and very much separated, so he tucked the chest under his arm and ran back to his friends.
Hiccup had meanwhile just released the last dragon from its cage and called for his team when Astrid found him. Other than the usual dishevelment from fighting, she looked fine, but Hiccup knew her well enough to tell something was bothering her.
"Everything all right?" he asked, nudging her side.
Astrid hummed and squeezed his hand, steadily scanning their surroundings for any attackers.
"I'm just thinking. Why would the hunters be so close to Outcast Island? Most wild dragon colonies are farther east towards Berk and Dragon Island."
Hiccup could only shrug. He was asking himself the same question.
"They might be the people Alvin said snuck onto the island," Fishlegs offered as he approached them with the twins in tow. "They could have been hiding here, waiting for the search for them to die off when they saw us. We were pretty high up so they probably thought our dragons were wild and wanted to capture them on top of the loot they got from the village."
"The storage room full of junk I found says Fish is right, but I don't get what Alvin would have that would interest the hunters so much. Most of the stuff in there was either burned or had little to no value," Snotlout said as he joined them with something tucked under his arm.
Hiccup looked around at the clearly unkempt space, the slash marks on the walls and empty tankards littering the floor.
"Without a leader, they're getting desperate. Desperate people do desperate things," he said quietly.
Their conversation was interrupted by agitated voices along with their dragons' warning shrieks. The riders shared a single look and ran back the way they came, almost trampling one another in the tight space.
When they burst outside, they found their dragons grouped protectively around Heather and Dagur. They were facing off against a single hunter that was standing on the opposite side of the ship, shakily holding a crossbow in one arm and a barrel of Monstrous Nightmare gel under the other.
When he saw Hiccup and his friends, his face lit up with recognition and his fear was replaced with hate.
'Oh great, he knows us,' Hiccup thought dryly as their group came to a stop, afraid to make a move in case the hunter decided to shoot at one of them.
Taking a deep breath, Hiccup took a careful step forward, drawing the hunter's attention to himself. The crossbow was immediately turned towards him, the bolt aiming squarely at his chest.
The other riders froze while Toothless let out a warning hiss. Hiccup slowly raised his hands to his shoulders to show he wasn't armed, simultaneously signalling for all of them to stay put.
"You don't want to do that," he told the hunter, his voice calm but clearly warning. "You know who we are and what our dragons are capable of. You can't win against all of us, and killing me will only make the others angrier. We're not savages, we won't hurt you if you surrender. Just put that crossbow down, and nobody gets hurt."
The man's resolve wavered as he looked between their group and their dragons. Dagur was scowling at him and sliding his thumb over his throat, while Heather looked ready to chuck her axe at him.
Hiccup almost thought the hunter would actually give up, but then something in his eyes broke and his face twisted into a deranged scowl.
"Damn you, dragon-loving scum!" he yelled and dropped the crossbow so he could jam a nearby torch in the opening of the barrel before throwing it at the riders.
This much gel would cause a blast big enough to hit all six of them, but Hiccup would take the brunt of it. None of the dragons would get to them in time to protect them.
Time seemed to slow.
Screams and shrieks pierced the air.
Hiccup stumbled back, tripping over his own feet.
And then at the last second, Snotlout jumped in front of him, arms spread wide.
"Snotlout, don't--!"
The barrel exploded, shaking the entire ship and knocking Snotlout into Hiccup. The object the Jorgenson took from the ship was knocked of his hands and slammed into the deck, shattering into splinters just as a second barrel was thrown towards them.
Hiccup saw the hunter jumping overboard and their dragons scrambling towards them, but then his world was suddenly overtaken by golden dust that exploded from somewhere to his left. He felt the shockwave of the second barrel's explosion slam into him, but couldn't hear or see it. He did hear Toothless' worried shriek, but it was suddenly cut off, like his head was plunged underwater.
When he tried to call for the dragon, no sound came out.
In seconds, the golden dust completely blotted out everything around him, including the other riders and even the deck below him. All he could hear was the familiar rustling of dragon scales coming from everywhere around him. A feeling akin to an entire flock of Fireworms crawling underneath his skin spread over his body, and if his voice was working, he would have cried out.
All he could do was hang onto Snotlout's limp form, suffering silently as he consciousness slowly slipped away from him.
"Hiccup!"
Someone was calling his name, someone who sounded like... his father.
But that was impossible. His father was dead.
Because of him.
The golden glow pulsed brighter, and then everything was swallowed by darkness.
Notes:
Well, that's the boring part out of the way. We'll get into the time travel stuff tomorrow.
Side note; have you guys seen the live action movie? I still haven't and I'm wondering if it's worth the time. The animation will be my favourite no matter how good it might be, but still.
That's all for the prologue. See ya in the next one
Chapter 2: Our (Younger Selves') Crashed Final Trial
Summary:
The riders wake up back on Berk, but not the Berk they know. Meanwhile, the final trial of dragon training gets interrupted by the unexpected appearance of... a group of kids?
Notes:
Morning, guys! Thanks for your comments about the live action, I mostly got the not-worth-it reviews from my fellow writers, so It's good to hear you guys like it. I'll have to give it a watch once I'm not spending all my waking time proofreading :D. For now, have another chapter
Bon appetite!
Chapter Text
The last trial of Dragon training was in full swing and excited cheers were echoing around the half-empty village. Most Berkians, including the recently returned warriors, were gathered on the stands surrounding the arena, eager to see which of the teens would be chosen for the ultimate honour of slaying their first dragon.
In the pit, the Gronckle hovered in aimless patterns while said teens were scattered behind the barriers set up in uneven intervals. The spectators' cheers served as both an advantage and drawback as they disoriented the dragon but also hindered the trainees ability to hear it approach.
Astrid waited until the Gronckle turned around so she could move to a barrier closer to it, and found Hiccup already kneeling there, shield in hand and a brand new helmet on his head.
It occurred to her that it looked strangely wrong on him before all the humiliation and frustration and failure from the past few weeks came flooding back, leaving her veins full of only searing hot anger.
Swinging her axe dangerously close to Hiccup's face, she growled, "Stay out of my way! I'm winning this thing."
Hiccup put his hands up in surrender, eyeing the sharp edge of the weapon warily. "P-please, by all means."
Somewhat satisfied, Astrid darted off, going from barrier to barrier, closing in on the dragon as the crowd above cheered her on. Now that the adults were back from their raid, it was time to prove she was ready to join their ranks and regain her clan's honour. She had to prove that she alone was the best, better than all the other teens, and certainly better than Hiccup.
For her parents. For Uncle Fin. For clan Hofferson.
Hiccup meanwhile rubbed his neck with a relieved sigh and carefully stood up to look around.
Amidst the crowd of onlookers, Stoick was watching him, beaming with pride. He locked eyes with Hiccup and gave him a nod of encouragement. Hiccup adjusted his helmet and forced a half-hearted smile before turning towards the dragon again. He just wished all this would end already so he could go back to Toothless.
On the other side of the arena, Astrid slammed her back into the last barrier separating her from the dragon. She took a couple deep breaths, steadying herself.
"This time. This time for sure," she said to herself.
She waited until the flutter of the Gronckle's wings became audible and then leapt over the barrier with a fierce battle cry, axe raised high.
"YAAA--!"
A sudden explosion rocked the ground, throwing her and most others off their feet. Shouts were heard from the trainees as a cloud of thick smoke billowed from the centre of the arena, stinging people's eyes and making them cough.
"Hiccup!"
Stoick's exclamation of his son's name was drowned out in what sounded like a cacophony of high-pitched screeching and the rustle of dry leaves. The few Vikings that managed to stay on their feet could see a golden glow pulsing within the cloud.
Then the glow faded, and the tremors disappeared with it.
The Berkians quickly recomposed themselves, years of dragon raids leading many to reach for their weapons and search the sky for enemies. To their surprise, they were met with a clear blue with no sign of even the smallest cloud, much less an entire dragon.
A dull thump sounded from the arena, and everyone's eyes were drawn back down.
The smoke slowly cleared to reveal the stone pit looking like a massive gale had swept through it.
The trainees had scattered after the initial explosion. Fishlegs and the twins were hiding behind the only barrier that remained standing, while Snotlout was desperately trying to climb through the gate but got stuck halfway through. Hiccup was crouched and covering his head with his shield while Astrid stood with her axe at the ready, blinking furiously to clear the tears caused by the smoke. The Gronckle was shakily hovering at the last tip of their triangle, shaking its head as if dazed.
And between the three of them was...
A group of toddlers?
Now, there aren't many things that can stun a battle-ready Viking into silence, but this was definitely one of them. Even Stoick was momentarily left speechless, and only stared at the six small, hopefully unconscious children.
After a few seconds, one of the children, an impossibly tiny boy with auburn hair, started to stir. His eyes slowly cracked open and he blinked a couple times at the sky above.
Then he suddenly shot up with a startled shriek and started looking around wildly. His shout caused the other children to stir as well and they all slowly awoke, some in the same startled way as the first, others slow and confused. The first boy then started fussing over a black-haired one, who was the only one that hadn't woken up yet, and the others soon joined him.
A growl echoed around the arena and Stoick's eyes found the Gronckle again. The beast had apparently overcome its shock and was steadily approaching the children, teeth bared.
Stoick quickly jumped up from his seat where he had fallen due to the tremors. He'd be damned if he let a group of infants get eaten by a dragon, even if they appeared from Thor knows where.
"Stop that dragon!" he bellowed at the other Berkians, successfully shaking them out of their stupor.
In the blink of an eye, everyone was on their feet, grabbing their weapons and racing towards the arena gate or straight up jumping through the chain dome. Unfortunately, all the commotion only agitated the Gronckle further, and before anyone could get to it, a blast of lava was sent in the toddlers' direction.
Stoick wanted to look away, but he forced his eyes to remain, to stare at the spot where he knew he would soon see six small, burnt bodies. He had seen some of his best men and women leave for Valhalla in this gruesome way, but it didn't compare to the horror of a child's death. Still, he forced himself to look, to remember his failure to protect these six, so that in the future he would--
His jaw hit the floor when the children emerged from the blast unscathed and clumsily stumbled out of the pool of slowly hardening lava, dragging the still unconscious but very much also not-burnt one with them.
The dragon was apparently just as surprised by this development, giving the Vikings that finally made it inside the arena the chance to subdue and drag it back into its pen without much resistance.
The children watched all of it with wide eyes, huddled together off to the side.
Prompted by some deeper instinct, Stoick decided to put off his questions for later. Strange powers or not, these were still children, and he was both a father and the chief of the village they appeared in. Right now, the most important thing was to get these little ones to safety.
As the locking mechanism on the dragon's pen fell into place, Stoick turned to the onlooking Vikings.
"Can someone tell me who these children are and how in Thor's name they got inside the arena?!"
At the sound of his voice, the children snapped to attention and their eyes locked onto him. They seemed to be in shock, and Stoick thought he heard the smallest boy mutter something that sounded almost sarcastic.
Wait, what was he thinking? Children that small might not even know how to talk, much less understand sarcasm. It must just have been because of that strange dry rustling in his ears and the golden specks in his vision.
But other than that strange reaction, he got no answer.
With the familiar clicking of wood on stone, Gobber hobbled over to them from the dragon pens. Even after witnessing a sourceless explosion and a group of children nearly incinerated by a dragon, the blacksmith seemed mostly relaxed.
"Gobber, have you ever seen them in the village?" Stoick asked his friend.
"Can't say I have. They do look kind of familiar, though," Gobber said, scratching his chin with his hook. "Could be someone's idea of a joke; dropping a bunch of mini cadets in front of a dragon. Seems like something Alvin would do, actually. And what are they even wearing? Are those dragon scales?"
Stoick glared at his friend at mentioned of the name but chose not to comment on it and instead turned his attention back to the strange children.
They were indeed wearing scales, and he couldn't deny that there was something strangely familiar about them, particularly the smallest auburn-haired boy. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't figure out what.
"Let's take them to the Great Hall for now, have Gothi look them over while we look for their parents," he finally decided.
Gobber nodded and went to pick up the one that was still unconscious, but was stopped when all the other children grabbed onto the boy's arms and clothes, refusing to let him be taken away. There was a deep fear in their eyes, the kind born from loss that children their age shouldn't know.
Gobber was visibly taken aback by this, but then he gifted the group with his signature grin in all its wideness, iron tooth and everything.
"Ah, don't worry, wee ones. Uncle Gobber will take real good care of yer friend. He'll be carried to the Great Hall fancier than a chief!"
The children shared hesitant looks, most directed at the auburn-haired boy. Stoick wondered for a moment whether they could even understand the blacksmith's words, but then, one by one, they let go, letting Gobber nestle the boy in his arms.
"Much appreciated," the blacksmith said, tipping his helmet to the group before he headed to the gate.
The crowd gathered in the arena slowly dispersed, following Gobber to the Great Hall. A few stopped to pick up the other children, who all looked about as conflicted about it as small children could. At least none of them had started crying yet, which, considering the stressful situation they were in a minute ago, was also kind of impressive.
Stoick was just about to head to the Hall himself when he saw Gothi hobble over to the auburn-haired boy, clearly intending to pick him up herself.
Stoick didn't mean to, not consciously at least, but his hands suddenly flew out, scooping the boy out of the shaman's arms.
"It's all right. I've got this one," he told her, still surprised by his own actions. He must have done it to spare the old woman the strain of carrying the child... right?
Gothi blinked in surprise, a strange light shining in her eyes when she looked from the boy to her chief. Stoick almost thought she would argue, but then she just grumbled soundlessly and brushed past him, heading to the Great Hall without trying to pick up any of the other children.
Stoick shook his head in disbelief and only then looked down at the child he was holding. Two large green eyes met his own. They were wide and fearful, with a strange mix of hope, sadness, fear, and joy in them.
Something tugged almost painfully at Stoick's mind at the sight. He was sure he'd seen those eyes before, but it kept escaping him, like a fish fresh out of the water that he was trying to grab with his bare hands.
A small sniffle shook him out of his musings, and he noticed the boy was wiping at his face furiously. Those green eyes were now sparkling with tears, and Stoick only then noticed him shaking slightly.
Almost automatically, he started bouncing the boy gently, humming a tune he'd learned so long ago he forgot where.
To his relief, it worked. The boy slowly calmed down and almost looked like he was about to fall asleep.
Stoick couldn't help but smile at the sight.
He really was so tiny that Stoick was almost afraid he would break if he wasn't careful. It had been so many years since he last cradled Hiccup, but luckily it seemed the parent part of him still hadn't forgotten what to do.
The thought reminded him that Hiccup and the other trainees were still in the arena. He turned to them, feeling a sense of pride at seeing Hiccup up front and not all the way in the back like he used to be.
"It's a shame, but we'll have to postpone the final trial until this is resolved. You should all come with us to the Great Hall and have Gothi check you as well, to make sure that explosion didn't cause any damage," he told the group.
Although they reacted with disappointed grimaces and groans, the teens followed the crowd of Vikings without any larger protest. Stoick suspected it was because they were just as curious about the children as everyone else rather than eagerness to get examined.
When Hiccup was about to leave as well, Stoick pulled him aside.
"I'm sorry, son. I know you wanted to show me your dragon fighting skills but..." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the Great Hall, the motion clumsy because of the child he was holding. The boy was once again wide awake and staring at Hiccup in strange fascination.
"Y-yeah, I know. No worries, Dad," Hiccup said quickly. He actually seemed glad for the delay, however strange it was.
Stoick smiled and clapped his son on the shoulder, almost making him sink to his knees.
"I promise to solve this quick and then we'll get right back to it. And soon you'll become a real Viking, just like it should be! Odin knows it's been long overdue for you to start showing your real talents," he added over his shoulder, failing to notice the pained look on Hiccup's face. Astrid, who was close enough to hear what he said, hid her scowl and quickened her pace.
Despite what Stoick said, however, he had a feeling that this would be a very long day.
Hiccup came to slowly, and even slower remembered why he was unconscious in the first place.
He wriggled his hands a little and noted with relief he wasn't bound in any way. Next, he cracked his eyes open the smallest bit, flinching at the sharp blue above him, criss-crossed with blurry grey lines. That was also a relief. Seeing the sky meant he wasn't in a cell. Had he been captured by hunters, they wouldn't have--
Memories hit him at full speed and he shot up with a startled yell, his hand searching his belt for Inferno. He found the weapon missing, same as the rest of his gadgets, even though his armour hadn't been taken away.
Strange. Who would only partially disarm their captives?
Looking around, he found that he was in a large stone pit with multiple large reinforced doors and a gate that had openings big enough for him to climb through. The grey lines above him were actually a chain net that had holes too large to keep in any but the biggest dragons, even if they were carrying a rider. A cloud of smoke was slowly dissipating around him.
A small groan alerted him to the other riders, laying around him in twisted positions and slowly coming to.
Astrid was the first to fully wake up and immediately jumped to her feet. Her hand went to her axe, only to find it missing as well. The others slowly pulled themselves into sitting positions, looking confused and dazed.
Hiccup quickly looked them over, searching for any injuries. He noticed that in comparison to their surroundings, their bodies seemed very small and... chubby? Except for him. He actually felt like he lost almost all the weight and muscles he managed to put on over the past few years.
At least it seemed that both barrels exploded far enough away to spare them from any serious harm, and their armour absorbed the rest. Except for the prominent confusion, everyone looked fine.
Everyone except for--
"Snotlout!" Hiccup shouted and quite literally fell to his knees next to the man when his legs failed to support him. He chalked it up to shock and focused on checking on his cousin. The others quickly converged around the two, hovering over Hiccup anxiously as he checked for Snotlout's pulse.
A thin layer of soot was covering the Jorgenson's face and the red scales of his chestplate, but his armour remained intact. His hair was blown out of its usual greased shape, and a small line of blood was trailing from where he bit through his lip, but other than that, he didn't seem to have any injuries. His breathing was calm, if a little slow, and his pulse thrummed strongly against Hiccup's fingers when he found it.
Hiccup slumped back, letting out a long breath. Seeing his relief, the other riders relaxed as well. Hiccup would really have to talk with Snotlout about that crazy stunt. Reckless self-sacrifice was his area of expertise.
They were only allowed a moment of relief before a bellowing shout echoed around the space they were in. Hiccup quickly covered his ears in an attempt to stop the stabbing pain in his eardrums. It hurt almost as much as the time he found himself between two arguing Thunderdrums.
He started looking around for its source when Fishlegs shouted, "Hiccup, look! I've never seen a Gronckle this large, not even a Titan Wing. It must be some new subspecies, maybe a relative to the Catastrophic Quaken."
Hiccup slowly turned around to the dragon his friend was pointing at. It did looking remarkably like a Gronckle, down to the shape of its scales, except it was the size of a small house. There were many scars all over its body, most from weapons, making it clear that its previous encounters with humans didn't end well.
Hiccup tilted his head slightly, wondering whether it was the source of the loud sound, and then paled when it bared its teeth and charged up a blast.
"Huh, that's weird, I swear it looks like Meatlu--"
"Take cover!" Hiccup yelled and threw himself over Snotlout while covering his head.
The blast of lava hit him like a tidal wave and almost knocked out his breath. Through his tunic, he could feel the scales of his armour warm up as it protected him from the immense heat. The repulsive scent of burnt hair hit his nose and he sincerely hoped that the absence of his helmet wouldn't cost him his entire scalp.
When the worst of the blast passed, he quickly shook off the lava that stuck to him and moved to scoop it off Snotlout's unmoving form. Their armour may have been fire-resistant, but he wasn't looking to test how long it would hold against lava.
The giant dragon paused, not expecting them to survive the blast, which gave Hiccup enough time to call out to the other riders again.
"Guys, we have to move, now!"
They were at his sides in seconds and helped him drag Snotlout towards the large gate. They were all tripping often, presumably because of Snotlout's weight, and that only increased the growing chaos.
Their voices mixed together as they called for their dragons, hoping they were somehow nearby and would reach them before the giant one did.
When they were about halfway to the door, Hiccup spared a look behind him, and his third call for Toothless died in his throat. The giant dragon wasn't pursuing them anymore, instead it was fighting a group of giant Vikings that were trying to subdue it with equally giant nets and bolas.
The sight shocked Hiccup so much that he didn't catch himself when he tripped again and ended up pulling down Snotlout, and subsequently all the others, with him. When he looked up again, the giants were still there.
"Um, did we somehow get transported to Jötunheim when I wasn't looking?" he asked dryly.
When the others could only muster up weak shrugs in response, Astrid whirled on the most likely culprits.
"Ruff, Tuff! What did you do?" she growled. Without her axe, she had to resort to only her deadly glare and clenched fists as weapons -- which, admittedly, were only slightly less effective.
The twins looked at each other, for the first time noticing how small their bodies looked.
"We did this? Best Loki Day ever!" they yelled in unison and banged their miniature heads together.
Astrid's eye twitched and Hiccup quickly planted himself between her and the twins before blood could be spilled.
"All right, let's not drag Loki into this, although knowing you two, it's bound to happen anyways." He frowned at the twins who stuck out their tongues at him in response. "So, did you have anything to do with this?"
The twins shared a long look, a silent conversation passing between them. In perfect sync, they looked at the giants surrounding them, at the space they were in, at the other riders, and then back at each other.
"I've got nothing," Ruffnut shrugged.
"Yeah, me neither," Tuffnut echoed before they both turned back to the other riders. "Sorry, Hiccup, but as much as we would love to take credit for this amazing trick, I'm afraid that taking others' accomplishments isn't our style. Though, now we will have to think of something even more grand than this, lest we bring shame upon the Thorston name."
Ruffnut nodded. "Correct, my brother Nut. All we can say is that due to unknown circumstances, we appear to have traversed time and space, and our bodies have seemingly undergone drastic changes, most likely to cope with this action. Therefore the objects and lifeforms surrounding us aren't abnormal large as you assumed, but rather we are the ones whose mass was reduced. Well, except Tuffnut, he was always tiny."
"Precisely what I-- Hey! Everyone knows I'm the taller twin!"
"Are not."
"Am too!"
"Are not!"
"Am too!"
"Are-"
"Guys, can we focus please?" Hiccup cut in. "What was it you said about time and--"
"Can someone tell me who these children are and how in Thor's name they got inside the arena?!"
The dragon riders froze at the loud, commanding, very familiar, and very much impossible voice.
Slowly, they all turned around, Hiccup the slowest of them, his mind repeating, 'No, please not him, anyone but him.'
While they were talking, the dragon had been dragged away and locked behind one of the large doors, and the attention of the giants had turned to the riders.
And at the front of the group stood a Viking with a red beard and sharp green eyes hidden beneath bushy eyebrows of the same fiery color. He was younger, five times larger, and much more haggard than they'd seen him in years, but still very much familiar.
In front of them stood Hiccup's father and the late Chief of Berk, Stoick the Vast, dead for almost a year.
Hiccup's vision narrowed to only that one man. He felt like he was slowly sinking in tar, and the world around him morphed into strange shapes and colours. Thousands of questions filled his ears with a dull roar, and the air suddenly felt too thick to breathe.
His father. He was here. He was alive. How? Why? He was a giant? That couldn't actually be him, right? Was this a trick? Was this the hunters' doing? Was he going insane? What in Thor's name was happening?!
As more Vikings, many of which were familiar as well, gathered around them, the riders formed a tight huddle. Astrid noticed the glassy look in Hiccup's eyes and grabbed his hand to give him support. His fingers immediately grasped onto hers like she was his only lifeline, but his eyes remained distant. He was shaking.
"Guys... do you know what this means?" Fishlegs whimpered weakly, his head jerking from side to side as he surveilled the crowd, taking stock of all the faces he recognised.
"Duh, we already told you. Due to unknown circumstances--" Tuffnut started, looking offended that no one was acknowledging his and his sister's genius, but at that moment, a giant that looked distinctly like Gobber stepped forward and reached down to pick up Snotlout.
All riders, even the still-dazed Hiccup, immediately grabbed onto the boy. The six of them had been captured so many times that it became instinct to fight being separated as long as possible. Giant Gobber seemed taken aback by their resistance at first, but then he smiled at them in the wide, toothy way that only Gobber the Belch could, iron tooth gleaming in the sun.
"Ah, don't worry, wee ones. Uncle Gobber will take real good care of yer friend. He'll be carried to the Great Hall fancier than a chief!"
At the familiar tone and accent, the riders hesitated, ultimately looking to Hiccup for instructions. He seemed to have at least somewhat come out of his daze and was staring at the blacksmith, searching his face and taking count of all the similarities between this giant and his mentor.
Slowly, his fingers uncurled from Snotlout's tunic, and the other riders hesitantly followed suit.
"Much appreciated," the blacksmith said, tipping his helmet to them before he took off towards the gate.
The remaining riders weren't left behind for long. Other Vikings soon walked up, picking them up one by one and carrying them out of the arena.
They didn't fight, but they stayed on high alert.
Hiccup was so distracted by his panicking brain that he didn't notice the giant Gothi approaching him, a strange light in her eyes. His raging thoughts, so fractured between panic at seeing his father and worry for his friends, the still absent Toothless, and his village, were only cut off when a strong pair of arms lifted him from the old shaman's grasp.
He struggled at first, thinking that whatever enemy orchestrated this had finally showed themselves and grabbed him, but then he froze when he looked up and was met with his father's face.
"It's all right. I've got this one," the Chief said towards Gothi, the deep rumble of his words in his chest sending vibrations through Hiccup's small body.
'Too small,' he noted through the panicked screaming in his mind, but the thoughts of what that could mean vanished when Stoick finally looked down, and Hiccup met the eyes that he himself closed for the last time nearly a year ago. The unseeing glaze of death in them was replaced with the vivid ember of life, although dimmer than Hiccup remembered it.
Had his father always looked this sad?
Stoick's brows furrowed, a spark of recognition in his eyes, but it was soon drowned out by confusion.
Did his father not recognise him? How could Stoick not recognise his own son? Considering their surroundings, it was most likely a good thing, but... it still hurt.
Hiccup's vision started getting blurry, and he was horrified to realise that it was because of tears. He quickly tried to wipe them away as a treacherous sniffle escaped him.
A strange sensation akin to taking off on Toothless lurched his stomach, and he realised Stoick was cradling him. The man started humming, the deep tune reverberating through his chest, and Hiccup choked slightly when he recognised it as the song he and Valka sang when they reunited, a song his father used to sing him to sleep with when he was little and woke up from nightmares.
Hiccup was years older now, a chief, a grown man nearly of an age to be a father himself... and yet it worked. After the initial shock passed, the regular motion of the rocking became strangely hypnotic, while the singing brought back memories of simpler times and gave him a sense of safety.
Hiccup's eyelids started getting heavy and the fog of sleepiness crept into his brain. He most likely would have actually fallen asleep had he not been startled out of his lull by the sight of a small, scrawny teen that Stoick stopped to talk to.
Feeling a headache coming on, Hiccup looked down at what looked remarkably like him five years ago.
Ruff and Tuff's words came back to him, and he slowly understood what they meant. It was a ridiculous theory, all things considered, but it fit so perfectly into the shenanigans their group got into that he wasn't even that surprised.
Hiccup's eyes slowly went to the teen's legs.
Both flesh.
If they really did time travel, that, coupled with them meeting what must have been Meatlug in the arena, gave him a pretty good idea of exactly when they could have ended up.
This was... not good.
But he shouldn't jump to conclusions yet. Time travel wasn't exactly on a Viking's list of reasons for weird things, and it still didn't explain why everything around him was suddenly enormous. It was more likely that this was some elaborate trap from an enemy of the alliance, or maybe he'd had a bit too much mead for nattmal and was now laying in bed having a very vivid dream.
Be it as it may, he had to keep his head in the game until he had a chance to talk with the other riders.
He couldn't break apart.
Stoick carried him out of the arena, and Hiccup had to take a moment before he found the strength to look around. Because if his theory was correct, he knew what he would see in the village itself wouldn't be pleasant.
Only once the shadows of the first houses passed over them, significantly later than they would in their own Berk, did he feel ready enough.
He was still left speechless, and from what he could see when they caught up to the rest of the crowd, the other riders were too.
Although everything was technically larger than they remembered, it felt like the complete opposite. Everything was close to the ground and grouped together behind barriers. The houses were fewer and much smaller, made to be easily extinguished and rebuilt, not as comfortable living spaces for Vikings and dragons alike. The many unconventionally shaped buildings meant to accommodate the more exotic dragon species of Berk were gone, leaving the village strangely bland.
The Vikings looked weary and on edge, and kept glancing to the sky, ready -- almost expecting, really -- to be defending against another raid at any second. Hiccup started recognising many of them; They were his people, those that mourned with him and helped him rebuild, that sought his council, and even some he sent off to Valhalla after their many battles.
They now walked past him with not a sign of the happiness, loyalty, and admiration he was used to.
But what unsettled him and the riders the most were the countless dragon trophies put on display. They were everywhere, mounted on spikes or hung on doors and windows like bizarre charms. Skulls, bones, scales, claws, and even fresher ones that couldn't be more than a couple days old. They were things that the riders had long since come to associate with dragon hunter strongholds, not their own home.
At one point, Fishlegs whimpered and pulled away from a severed Gronckle head mounted on a spike. The woman holding him cradled him closer, cooing at him reassuringly.
"Oh, don't worry, child. That monster can't hurt you. We made sure of that."
Fishlegs's eyes shot up to her smiling face, his horror now mixing with anger, but he didn't say anything.
Hiccup watched the interaction from the crook of his father's arm, and it made him realise just how much danger they may have found themselves in.
'We have to figure out what is going on and get back home before the people we call family mount our heads next to those dragons,' he thought grimly as the stairway to the Great Hall came into view. 'And preferably before the twins meet their past selves.'
Chapter 3: How to (Not) Hold a Meeting
Summary:
Berk tries to figure out what to do with these strange children, while the riders try to figure out what the Hel happened to them and why they are now tiny. Everyone is confused and the fact that no one seems to be able to think clearly isn't helping.
Notes:
A bit of a setup chapter but hopefully it won't be totally boring. There is a bit of Hiccup and Toothless fluff towards the end at least
Bon appetite!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
With almost every Berkian packed inside the Great Hall, it was starting to feel somewhat cramped. Outside of Trader Johann's visits, new things were scarce on Berk, so everyone was excited and eager to find out more about these unknown children.
So far, not one of their parents had been found. The thought that he may be dealing with not lost but orphaned children bothered Stoick. Berk had an orphanage, of course; a house tucked away underneath an overhang in the mountain, where the children that lost their parent to dragon raids could be safe, but for some reason, Stoick didn't feel right placing these six there.
He was probably just holding onto hope that their parents would be found. There was still time before Gothi finished her examinations.
The old shaman's approach to the children was strange. She had shouldered her way over to them as soon as they were placed on the head table, hitting anyone that blocked her way with her staff. She also went out of her way to whack Stoick over the head, which she hadn't done since he was a lad.
What little she'd told them so far only confused Stoick more.
The children couldn't be more than two winters old, and although their appearance certainly gave the same impression, Stoick just couldn't shake the feeling that something about that age wasn't quite right. The other members of the council also looked somewhat conflicted, but not nearly as much as him. Their interest in the children was vanning at the same speed as their appetite was growing, and Stoick could tell that in an hour or so, they wouldn't be of any help to him.
Then again... he was also starting to grow slightly tired. Any time he started thinking about the children as anything other than what they appeared to be, that strange rustling in his ears returned and his thoughts rushed in another direction. Whenever he noticed a familiar feature on one of them, golden specks appeared in his vision, and once he'd blink them away, he would no longer see it.
And stranger still was the fact that none of those things alarmed him.
The six were just little children, what could possibly be dangerous or mysterious about them?
Really, the only thing stopping him from leaving this whole matter to Gothi was the memory of the auburn-haired boy's eyes. Now if only he could remember where he'd seen them before...
After he managed to slip away from his father, Hiccup stayed at the far end of the Hall, glancing at the door every few seconds. He wanted to get back to Toothless, but the endless stream of Vikings pouring inside made it impossible to get out unseen. He tried telling himself that it was a good thing he was here -- these children somehow just appeared inside the arena without any warning, and if they started moving around the island like that, they could accidentally stumble upon his Night Fury and lead the other Vikings to him.
'But they're just children,' another part of his mind countered, 'how would they even tell anyone?'
As he argued fruitlessly with himself, the crowd moved just enough for him to get a clear view of the six children. The smallest one, a boy with auburn hair, locked eyes with him, and Hiccup was left staring.
The boy's green eyes held awareness more suited for an adult than a child, and carried memories of overwhelming joy as well as excruciating pain. More than that, they filled Hiccup with a strange sense of... familiarity.
Did he know this child?
Then Snotlout moved in front of him, blocking his view of the boy. He shoved his way through the crowd, loudly proclaiming something that was lost to Hiccup's ears, and successfully drew the attention of the whole room.
Hiccup looked from the crowd to the door, for the moment empty. He weighed his options, and then, just as a commotion broke out near the head table, he quickly slipped out the door, disappearing into the night.
In the opposite corner of the Hall, Astrid was eyeing the children with suspicion.
She had never seen a group more suspicious, and yet nobody seemed to care.
Did everyone just forget how they appeared out of nowhere? How they survived the attack that would have turned a grown man into charcoal? Did no one notice the way they seemed to talk to each other? And most of all, did no one notice their eyes? Those weren't the eyes of children, they were the sharp, intelligent eyes of experienced warriors, capable of picking up the smallest hints and movements and analysing a situation within seconds. Astrid had seen such eyes in her own reflection enough times to recognise them.
If she was sure of one thing, it was that these were no ordinary children.
And if no one else was going to stay vigilant, she would just have to do it herself.
A commotion started in the crowd, drawing her attention. She watched as Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut made their way towards the table, Fishlegs trailing behind them and apologising to anyone the three bumped into. In the corner of her eye, she also noticed Hiccup just about to slip outside.
All five of the teens wore expressions of some mix of interest and suspicion, which contrasted sharply with the calm, almost sedated looks of the adults.
Maybe she wasn't so alone after all.
But would that be worth dealing with these five?
Sitting on a giant table in a huddle of his fellow riders, with dozens of giant Vikings looking at them over their food while a giant Gothi was prodding and poking them with her staff made Hiccup feel incredibly small. Small and lost. Nearby, giant versions of Berk's old council members were discussing who they could be and what to do with them.
And there stood his father.
Hiccup still hadn't come to terms with him being there, but he managed to grow somewhat numb to the pain seeing him awakened. When his friends sent him worried looks or asked in low voices if he was okay, he assured them that everything was fine.
Because he was fine.
He had to be, at least until they were all safely back home and, oh, right, returned to their own bodies, because that was something they now had to do.
Somehow, each of them had shrunk into literal babies. The other riders seemed to be coping with it well, all things considered, but Hiccup now had two flesh legs! He felt like the extra appendage didn't even belong to him, and he dreaded the moment he would have to walk. He did his best not to think about it and instead focus on trying to find answers to his many, many questions.
Once Gothi finally moved out of earshot to scribble something for the council, Hiccup whispered to his friends, "Any ideas?"
"I say we start breaking stuff until something happens. We might just be hallucinating, or this could be staged; A plot by some new crazed enemy that's after Berk or our dragons," Astrid whispered back, scanning the room for anything even remotely suspicious.
Fishlegs, who had been taking in every single detail since they entered the Great Hall, shook his head slightly. "As much as I want you to be right, Astrid, this all seems way too accurate to be a trap. The Great Hall looks exactly like it did before it was rebuilt, down to the last detail. There's even those scratches on the walls from when the twins chased in a herd of yaks."
"Oh yeah!" Tuffnut lit up as he looked at where Fishlegs pointed. "That's definitely the one from Yakyak. And that one is from Yakitak -- he only has one horn. Oh, and that one's mine! I was seeing double for four days after that. Or was it for two days... but I saw them twice?"
"Best two to four days of my life," Ruffnut snorted.
Fishlegs sighed and looked at Hiccup with mildly panicked eyes. "I hate to say it, guys, but I... I think we may have actually time traveled. This is our actual past."
Astrid and Hiccup shared a look, each trying to find a confirmation in the other's eyes that this was all a dream. If there was any, they failed to find it before a group of teenagers elbowed their way to their table, and the riders were met with the faces of four of their currently-older-but-actually-younger selves -- a very concrete confirmation that they had indeed time traveled.
"Ta ta da, we're dead," Hiccup muttered as the twins and Fishlegs stared mesmerised into their own faces.
He briefly managed to glimpse his own younger version again, standing near the Hall's doors. Their eyes met, and Hiccup could tell the boy was suspicious of them. The strange trustfulness of the adults seemingly didn't apply to him, or the younger Astrid, who was staring them down with a downright murderous glare.
Hiccup couldn't look at her for long. He forgot how immense the hate in her eyes used to be.
Then the younger Snotlout planted himself right in front of him, blocking his view of anything else. Hiccup had to crane his neck up to look into his giant cousin's face, held back a flinch when he saw the look of self-absorbed arrogance that had been mostly absent from the older Snotlout's face for years.
"These twerps are the ones that snuck inside the arena? Seriously? They look like a bunch of dragon snacks to me," the boy said mockingly, a twisted smirk on his lips.
The crowd quieted, most eyes in the Hall now drawn to Snotlout. Obviously pleased by the attention, the boy puffed out his chest. Hiccup didn't miss how he glanced at his father to make sure he was looking.
"Seriously, they're lucky they didn't get eaten straight away. The dragon was probably still so stunned by my awesomeness that it missed them with how tiny they are. Especially this fish bone." He jabbed a finger into Hiccup's chest, nearly knocking him over.
Hiccup heard Astrid growl and glanced at her with a tiny shake of his head.
"Just look at him, he looks like he was already half-eaten by one," Snotlout continued. "I bet I could beat him to a pulp with just my pinkie, and he wouldn't even--"
A small body suddenly flew past Hiccup and collided with Snotlout's face, and the boy yelled in surprise as he was knocked over and out of the riders' sight. He tried getting up but ended up only rolling around as his tiny attacker pummelled him with equally tiny fists.
Whoops and cheers rose from the crowd, and Spitelout hid his face in his hands with a sigh. A few Vikings got up to rescue the Jorgenson from what seemed to be imminent death, but they didn't seem to be in a hurry.
Hiccup and his friends got to the edge of the table just as Mulch separated the attacker from Snotlout's now considerably more colourful face. To the riders' shock, it turned out to be none other than their own Snotlout, who until just a second ago was still unconscious.
"Hah, you just got beaten by a baby!" the younger Ruffnut yelled as Snotlout finally got up and quickly scrambled away from the table. A few people laughed, and the boy's ears turned a vibrant shade of red.
"Shut up! That lucky bastard got the jump on me! Pretending to be unconscious isn't fair!" he yelled back, but the crowd only laughed louder. His protests trailed off into irritated mumbling as he hurried towards the door, but just before he could get outside, Hiccup saw him get pulled into the shadows by the younger Astrid. Looking around, he couldn't see the rest of their past versions either.
That could become a future problem, but his current problem was his very much panicking cousin that was just sat back down next to him.
"Hiccup! What's going on?!" Snotlout asked loudly as soon as he saw him. "Are you okay?! Where's that dragon hunter?! Why were you being attacked by a giant?! And why am I so small?! What the Hel happened to my hard-earned muscles?!"
Hiccup quickly covered Snotlout's mouth to stop him from screaming. Everyone was luckily still so distracted by the younger Snotlout's defeat to notice the older one's freakout. Gothi was the only one looking at them, but she didn't give any indication to having heard what Snotlout said and only resumed her probing of them with much more interest.
"We need to stay quiet," Hiccup hissed to Snotlout while the others averted Gothi's attention. "We're not sure how, but it looks like we were brought back in time to before Berk made peace with dragons. We're in the bodies of toddlers with no dragons or weapons, so until we know what's going on, we can't let anyone figure out who we are."
Snotlout blinked once, twice, and then laughed, though to his credit, he did keep his voice slightly lower that time.
"Ha ha, good one, Hiccup! And here I was telling Eret you lost your sense of humour after becoming chief. Time travel, hah! Now seriously, what's going on?"
With a roll of his eyes, Hiccup pointed to where his father was standing, though he didn't look there himself. Snotlout turned there and his eyebrows furrowed.
"What, more giants? I don't--" He cut himself off abruptly and his eyes went so wide it seemed like they were spanning the entire upper half of his face. He turned mechanically from Stoick to Hiccup, back to Stoick, and again to Hiccup, a weak squeaking coming from his throat.
"I think you broke him," Ruffnut whispered, a childish grin on her face. Her voice finally snapped Snotlout out of his shock and he slowly pointed at Stoick.
"Is that...?"
Hiccup nodded wordlessly. Snotlout blinked again and then his hands flew up to grab fistfuls of his hair.
"Oh... my... gods. Th-this is bad. This is so-- Wait. Does that mean that giant that attacked you was... Oh no."
"Now he's getting it," Astrid remarked wryly.
The man-turned-boy moved his mouth a bunch, as if he wanted to speak but had no words to, and then he grabbed Hiccup by the tunic and started shaking him, eyes full of panic.
"Hiccup, you have to get us back, right now! Don't just stare at me, do something! Work your magic, call a time traveling dragon or whatever, but get us back! Hurry! I cannot deal with fifteen-winter-old me! And-- Oh Thor, my dad! He was insufferable when we were kids!"
Hiccup cringed slightly and painstakingly managed loosen Snotlout's grasp.
"Well, I'd say Spitelout is about just as insufferable in our time as he is now, but don't worry, Snotlout. None of us want to be in a Berk set before the Peace longer than we have to. I don't exactly have a time traveling dragon on hand, but we'll find a way to get back, I promise."
Snotlout didn't seem convinced, but nodded and let go of his tunic.
"We just have to move carefully and hope us being here won't change too much," Hiccup added.
"Congratulations, Chief, you've successfully jinxed us," Tuffnut said dryly just before Gothi's staff poked him in the eye.
In the forests beyond the village, the younger Hiccup quickly made his way towards the Cove, a giant basket of fish nearly the same weight as him making his knees buckle with every step.
Although he left the Hall before the issue with the strange children was resolved, it was already quite late. He promised Toothless he would be with him come midday and the sun had almost set by now. The dragon would definitely be angry with him, but hopefully the abundant dinner would placate him, even if getting it delayed him more.
He climbed down into the Cove and braced himself, expecting his dragon to tackle him as usual, but to his surprise, Toothless was nowhere to be found.
"Hey, bud? I've got your dinner!" he called into the shadowed cove.
No response.
"Come on, don't pout, you big baby. I'm sorry I'm so late, but it wasn't my fault!"
Still no response.
"Well, suit yourself," Hiccup shrugged before shouldering off the basket. "Guess I'll eat all these delicious fish myself. Mmm, tasty, tasty fish."
He was kidding, of course, one raw fish was enough to last him a lifetime, but his stomach did rumble when he opened the basket. He hadn't eaten dagmal or nattmal, so he was quite hungry.
He started digging through the basket's contents to make sure there were no eels left in it and to pick one or two fish to cook for himself while Toothless ate. As he pushed aside a cluster of particularly pungent sardines, a sharp grinding sound hit his ears. He frowned and poked at the fish. The sound repeated, sharper than before.
"What the..."
He plucked one of the fish out of the basket and examined it. It was definitely dead and wasn't rotten, and he highly doubted any living or rotting fish would make a sound like that. It sounded more like the sharpening of an axe, and like it was coming from above him--
His eyes wandered up and the sardine went flying when he flailed his arms and jumped back in surprise.
"Aah! What the-- Astrid?! What are you--" Then he looked behind her. "What are... all of you... doing here?"
Astrid, who'd been sitting on a the large rock he'd put the basket of fish against somehow without noticing her or the other four teens, stopped sharpening her axe and jumped down. Hiccup quickly glanced around the cove, hoping to Odin he wouldn't see his best friend, alive or dead, so close to these five.
Did they hear him call out to the dragon? Did they know?
Astrid came to stand in front of him, tall and proud and nearly a head taller from how much he was hunching down. Standing against the last rays of the setting sun over the red-tinted sky, she looked like the most beautiful Valkyrie.
A Valkyrie that was staring him down with the same look of disgust and hate that she wore since he got good at dragon training.
Even under his father's glare, Hiccup had never felt so small.
"We need to talk," Astrid finally said, unceremoniously grabbing him by the collar and carrying him over to the rock and the other teens.
Hiccup swallowed back the heart that was desperately trying to escape his body and tried to gather enough air to respond.
"Right, s-sure. Talk... A-about what?"
Astrid huffed in annoyance and dropped him in the middle of the teens' huddle, which in no way helped Hiccup's panic.
"About those children from the arena, of course!" the girl said, growing impossibly more angry.
Hiccup made a soft noise of understanding and relief, but nothing else when Astrid fixed him with another glare. With an aggravated sigh, the girl started pacing in front of them, and Hiccup could only sit surrounded the other teens, silently willing Toothless to stay wherever he was hidden.
"Don't tell me you think they're just some innocent lost children like the others do! Did you see their eyes? And they talked to each other, I know they did! You must have heard it too, down in the arena," Astrid ranted angrily.
Fishlegs opened his mouth to say something but Astrid's angry hiss stopped him.
"And speaking of the arena, how did they even get there in the first place? All the adults are acting like they didn't just appear out of nowhere in the middle of an explosion that had no source! And how they survived a point-blank dragon blast right after? And think about how that unconscious one attacked Snotlout. A baby doesn't spring from a nap ready to fight, not to mention he was fighting better than Snotlout ever did."
"Hey, that's not true! I told you he took me by surprise!" Snotlout protested, while Hiccup was still trying to process the news that his cousin had been attacked by one of the kids.
"I don't give a yak's ass about your wounded pride, Snotlout," Astrid growled, ignoring the Jorgenson hurt expression. "What I do care about is finding out the truth about these kids. Whatever they are, they're bad news, and since they apparently have the council and all the adults under their control, we're the only ones who can do something about them. So as much as I hate the thought of working with most of you--" She shot a very obvious glare at Hiccup, who ducked his head between his shoulders. "--we have to work together to save our home. So, who's with me?"
She obviously expected them all to immediately join her, but to her bafflement and irritation, none of the teens seemed very eager to.
"I mean... saving the village sounds kinda boring," Tuffnut started slowly. "Heroic, sure, but boring."
"Yeah, the real question should be, do we get to blow stuff up?" Ruffnut asked.
Astrid groaned and dragged a hand down her face.
"And are we sure it would be safe? We shouldn't be doing things the Chief doesn't approve," Fishlegs said quietly.
Snotlout rolled his eyes with a snort. "Oh, would you get in trouble with your mommy, Fish? I obviously wouldn't, I'm just concerned about this taking away time from my badass dragon training and general awesomness."
As the banter continued, Hiccup shifted uncomfortably, trying not to touch any of the teens.
He knew that Astrid was right. Even Bucket would see that something was strange about the children (except, apparently, he couldn't). Hiccup was determined to find out more, but he already had his plate full with trying to keep Toothless a secret and figuring out what to do about the final trial of dragon training. If his father thought those children were harmless, why should he think otherwise? Then again, it was a strange approach from Stoick, considering how distrustful he usually was.
But all that aside, Hiccup knew that Astrid would go with or without them, and he could already see Tuff's mention of heroism got Snotlout mostly on board. The twins themselves would undoubtedly join too, not wanting to miss any chaos that would occur, and Fishlegs would do whatever the other three did to not be left out.
And with all of them running around, how long would it be until one of them ended up back here and actually saw Toothless?
"I'll help you," he said, interrupting the budding argument over whether explosions were a valid form of investigation.
The other teens quieted down and looked at him with wide eyes. Hiccup only then realised he spoke much louder and firmer that he ever did.
"I'll help you find out who those children really are," he repeated, more timid this time.
Almost immediately, the other four joined him, saying they would of course do the same. Hiccup held back a laugh and then a shiver when he noticed Astrid looking at him downright murderously yet again.
"Great," she said coolly, "then we should start right away. If we want to find out what they are, we'll need to keep an eye on them. All you muttonheads have to do is watch my back and stay out of my way. Once we catch them when they do... whatever they came here to do, we let the Chief and the others handle them."
Hiccup could see Snotlout bristle at being addressed a muttonhead, and the twins were already opening their mouths to ask about what kind of destruction they would be allowed to do, but Astrid ignored all of them. She marched to the crevice the teens must have used to get to the cove and disappeared without even checking whether they were following her. The other four followed after her, their various shouts mixing together into an incomprehensible cacophony.
Just as Hiccup himself was about to climb through the crevice, he heard a rustle behind him. He glanced back and saw a pair of large green eyes in the shadow of the cliff. Toothless was looking at him with a mix of confusion and hurt that tore at Hiccup's heart.
"Sorry," he mouthed at the dragon and then inclined his head towards the basket of fish he left behind. Toothless hopped over to it, quiet as the night, and his face lit up when he saw its contents. He looked back up at Hiccup and warbled slightly, flapping his wings slightly as he always did when he wanted him to join.
Shaking his head was the hardest thing Hiccup had ever done, even more so when the Night Fury's eyes turned impossibly sad. Losing an inner battle, he quickly ran over to the dragon and hugged his head.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go, bud," he whispered, scratching Toothless's chin. "I need to keep an eye on them to keep you safe. I'll come back later, I promise, but you need to stay hidden, all right?"
Toothless warbled and pressed into his hand before gently pushing him towards the exit. Hiccup could already hear Fishlegs calling for him, and the realisation of how close the teens had gotten to finding his dragon sent a wave of cold sweat over him.
As he pulled himself through the narrow crevice, Hiccup knew with absolute certainty that no matter what would happen and who those children would turn out to be, he would protect his dragon, even if it meant going against the other teens, his father... or even the entire village.
Notes:
I'm no expert, but from what I've read, Vikings ate two meals; dagmal and nattmal, roughly equal to breakfast and dinner. It's not exactly canon to the show, but I like to add little tidbits like this to my works. If anyone here is an expert on Norse culture, please tell me if this is all bs so I don't repeat nonsense to people :D.
I'ma go lay down to get rid of this migraine and see ya in a few with next chapter
Chapter 4: How to Blow your Cover (Literally)
Summary:
The riders do their best to plan how not to arouse any suspicion from the people of the past. It goes wrong almost immediately
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The moon was well on its way through the sky by the time the riders were finally left alone. The council had gone back and forth for hours, arguing over what to do with them, and the question of who they were and how they appeared on Berk got lost somewhere in the process. The discussion eventually devolved into an argument of Stoick versus the rest of the council about why the riders shouldn't be put in the orphanage. When Spitelout finally snapped and asked Stoick why he just didn't take the kids himself, the Chief shut him up with a single glare, but notably didn't answer. The two were at the verge of a brawl when Gothi finally finished the last of her countless examination and scribbled something out. The message obviously didn't make Stoick happy, but it did make him finally dismiss the council.
In the end, nothing was decided and the riders were left in the Great Hall for the night, with Bucket and Mulch to watch over them, and Mildew who fell asleep in the far corner an hour before.
Hiccup knew they couldn't risk anyone overhearing them, so he sent out the twins to spike the mead their two guardians were drinking with a mix of Foreverwing saliva and one of Gothi's herbal concoction that he carried in case of situations like this.
Before long, he started seeing Bucket's head lolling slightly, and Mulch stifled a yawn. Their eyes were closing more and more after each blink, until finally, Bucket's head fell onto the table with a loud clang. The sound roused Mulch slightly, but it wasn't enough to prevent him from joining his friend in slumberland soon after.
"Mission accomplished, Chief," Tuffnut announced as the two Thorstons emerged from the shadows.
"We are now at no risk of being overheard," Ruffnut confirmed, handing Hiccup the flask that held the concoction. Hiccup looked at it with a raised eyebrow.
"Didn't I tell you to only use a few drops on each?" he asked, shaking the nearly empty flask.
"Oh, we did. We gave the rest to Mildew," Ruffnut said, both her and her brother's faces morphing into malicious grins. "We thought he could use a few extra days of sleep."
"You might not know this, Hiccup, since you're all about peace and diplomacy and whatnot, but with traitors, quiet and untraceable revenge is the best revenge," Tuffnut added.
Hiccup sighed but didn't reprimand them, which he knew they would consider a success.
"All right, we can speak normally now," he said, letting his voice rise to its normal level.
"Oh, thank Thor! That silence was killing me," Snotlout cheered and jumped up to stretch his legs. Hiccup contemplated doing the same, but decided he'd rather push the experience back as far as he could.
Fishlegs was already busying himself over Gothi's scribbled messages, mumbling to himself as he deciphered them.
"So, what did she say?" Hiccup called to him after a while.
"It's weird, Hiccup. She was telling St-Stoi-" The boy swallowed a couple times, like the name was too hard for him to say. He took and deep breath before trying again, "She was telling... the Chief to take us to her hut and leave us there with her. He must have refused and that made her pretty angry. I didn't even know she knew some of these words."
Hiccup scratched his scalp with a hum.
"Strange. What would Gothi need with us?"
"I dunno. Why don't we ask her?" Tuffnut shrugged.
"Right, and while we're at it, let's go tell my dad all about the future. I'm sure that will go about as great," Hiccup quipped, realising right after he said it that he was only half joking.
A momentary silence descended on the group as the reality of what was happening fully dawned on them.
"We... we really did time travel somehow, didn't we?" Astrid said quietly. "People we call family now want to... well..."
"Yeah," Hiccup sighed. "Looks like even after all that craziness with the Dragon Eye and Drago, we still haven't seen everything The Norns have in store for us."
"How do you think it happened? I know a couple legends about time travelers, but they always have to go into some ancient temple or perform a ritual. We didn't do anything like that, but Vikings don't just get thrown through time... Do they?" Fishlegs, still bent over Gothi's drawings, asked.
Hiccup frowned as he recalled everything they did before the jump. "It must have been something on that hunter ship, probably something in that barrel that hunter threw at us, mixed with the Nightmare gel. Nothing weird happened before then and everything else looked like the standard dragon killing equipment all their ships have. I just can't figure out what it would be and why that hunter would use it on us. If Viggo was still alive, I would almost say that this was all a part of his newest plan, but like this..."
"It had to have been a coincidence," Astrid said firmly. "If the hunters had a way to travel to the past, they wouldn't have used it to send us back and give us a chance to help our younger selves, and they definitely wouldn't just have it in a random barrel on one of their raiding ships."
"Hey, speaking of, why don't we go and kick the hunters' butts right now? We could spare the little us a lot of trouble," Tuffnut offered, the spark in his eyes speaking of all the ways he'd already crafted to make the hunters' lives miserable.
"Well, duh, because one: we are babies, two: we don't have our dragons, and three: we have no idea what it would do to the future, which happens to be our present," Snotlout said matter-of-factly.
At the others' wide-eyed looks, he rolled his eyes.
"What? Can't I say something smart and strategic every once in a while? I'm in command of Berk's armed forces now, you know."
"We know. We've been wondering how we're still alive for a while now," Ruffnut snickered.
"Snotlout is right," Hiccup said, making the Jorgenson puff out his chest. "We can't interfere with the past, and we need to keep our identities a secret for our own safety. Time travel or no, anonymity is the biggest advantage we have."
"Ooh, does that mean we get code names? I have a lot of ideas for code names," Snotlout said excitedly.
Astrid snorted. "Right, because Sir Ulgerthorpe worked out sooo well."
"Well, if miss perfect is so against it, I guess Ruffnut will get the honour of being Lady Althergourne," Snotlout said, sticking out his tongue.
"How do you even pronounce that?" said twin wondered aloud.
Her brother shrugged. "No idea. I say we just call ourselves by our initials. You know, like when we infiltrated the headquarters of that dragon smuggler on Red Rock?"
"We had cover names back then, Tuffnut. You forgot them and Astrid barely stopped you from calling Snotlout by his name. We had no choice but to go with it," Hiccup said dryly.
"Oh right!" Tuffnut laughed. "The birth of Ssssnakey Ssssnoty S."
Snotlout groaned while the twins bust into laughter.
"What are you, twelve?" Fishlegs mumbled, though the corners of his mouth were visibly twitching.
"We might as well be. Our bodies shrank, didn't they? Maybe our brains did too," Ruffnut offered, wiping a tear from her eye.
"You would have to have a brain in the first place for that," Snotlout, still red in the face from Tuffnut's comment, said.
Hiccup had a couple suggestion for code names, but he knew his friends well enough to be able to tell when his ideas would just bounce off. Also, he'd rather steer them clear of the topic before someone mentioned his middle name.
"Initials will do fine," he said. "They'll be easy to remember and call out in case of emergency, and we don't have time to sit here and think up names for each other. What we should be thinking up is a way to get back to our time. Every second we stay here, we risk changing something, and that can only end badly. I mean, everything turned out fine in the end, so--"
He choked up as the image of his father entered his mind. He quickly tried to recomposed himself, but his falter didn't go unnoticed. A gently squeezed his hand, giving him a sad but reassuring smile, while the others looked at him with glum expressions.
H closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to break apart.
"Like I was saying, we should focus on finding our way back and make sure no one finds out who we are before we do. We've already made ourselves suspicious enough as is. If we're found out, best case scenario is they will want us to tell them about the future and, well, I think we can all imagine how that would go."
All eyes briefly went to the carved figure of a dragon with a sword piercing its chest that was in this time still hanging above the central fireplace.
"Ha ha, yeah, let's not get discovered," S concluded dryly, the others nodding vigorously.
"Whatever happens, we'll figure this out together. We'll find a way home and everything will go back to how it was," H said, but even as he said it, he wasn't completely sure that was what he really wanted.
"Okay, great plan, but before we go, can we please get just one chance to Loki someone?" T asked, grinning widely.
H felt a smile tug on his lips, the maddening whispers in his mind retreating. Having the twins act in their usual, half-crazed way no matter the situation was a constant that he only came to appreciate after their battle with Drago, when the two Thorstons spent their days following him around and cut off everyone who tried to bring up Stoick in the most crazy and destructive ways possible. Only after he sent them away on a mission for a few days did H realise just how much the riders depended on them to keep their spirits up -- how much he depended on them to keep him grounded in the face of his new role.
"As much as I can think of a couple people that would deserve it, no. Even without Barf and Belch, I can't risk you guys running free around a Berk that's still flammable."
His mention of the dragon unintentionally brought a new wave of unease over the group. The wind that had been howling outside suddenly quieted down, and the absence of their dragons, of the warmth of their scales and the small sounds they made, from quiet grumbles to loud snoring, became almost painful.
After a minute of awkward silence S slowly said, "You know... maybe we should go check the arena. Maybe our dragons came back with us and are just as confused as us. I don't want Hookfang to be locked up down there... in the dark... all alone... B-but it's not like I miss him! That's stupid! Why would you even think that?!"
H shook his head sadly. "I don't think our dragons are in the arena, guys. You saw how Meatlug was acting, she didn't recognize us at all, and she didn't look smaller either. If we suddenly became younger when we travelled here, why wouldn't she change too? And if they were here, Dagur and Heather would have to be too."
A hummed and stretched her arms before standing up. After a little hesitation, H tried to do the same, but a thousand sensations all boiling down to the feeling of wrong shot up his newly reacquired leg, and he almost toppled over. A was at his side in a flash and helped steady him until he got his bearings.
"Take it easy. It's a long way to the arena. Of course, I can always carry you if needed," she added with a smirk.
"I didn't say we were going to the arena," H countered, choosing to ignore the second sentence.
"It won't hurt to check on the dragons. Maybe Meatlug was really just confused and the de-aging only applies to humans. And besides--" She pointed to the door that was cracked open. "--F already left."
...
They caught up to F just in time to see him reaching for the lever on Meatlug's pen. H opened his mouth to shout at him to stop, but it was too late.
F, despite having to jump to reach it, pulled the lever and the door swung open. The riders jumped back, bracing themselves for the angry dragon that would burst out, spewing fire and lava in all directions and roaring loud enough to wake the entire village.
But no dragon came.
In the rush and confusion of their situation, they forgot that dragons do one crucial thing during the night; they sleep.
Inside her pen, Meatlug was laying on her side with her tongue lolling out, looking content with the world despite being held by people who could decide to kill her any day.
"See, H? She's always been sleeping like that. I told you she came back with us," F said happily and ran to Meatlug's side.
"Wait, F, that's not--"
"Hey, does that mean we can get our dragon out too?" came T's voice from the other side of the arena. The twins were forming a human pyramid there, R already reaching for the lever on the Zippleback's pen.
"Guys, no! We're not-"
"Come on out, Hooky! Don't let some stupid door keep you down!" S yelled into the darkness of Hookfang's pen, which he somehow had time to open.
"S, I swear to--"
H's voice was drowned out by an agitated roar.
S's yell was, quite unsurprisingly, enough to wake up not just Hookfang but all the other dragons. The Nightmare burst out out in a ball of flames, crashing into the chain dome and falling back down, still screeching. The dragon was rumored to have a habit of reducing anyone that woke him up to ashes, and the riders knew well where that reputation stemmed from.
While Hookfang was still thrashing around, Meatlug hovered out of her pen, not noticing the tiny human trying to climb onto her back. Barf and Belch, who had by then been freed by the twins, peeked out their door, still half asleep. Zippleback gas started leaking out around them, dangerously close to Hookfang's flaming inferno.
"We have to stop them before they wake up the whole village!" A yelled through the chaos.
"H, you're the dragon whisperer! Do something!" S yelled back as he ducked under Hookfang's flaming tail.
"For the last time, I am not the dragon whisperer!" H shouted, breathless from chasing Meatlug.
"It's okay, she's fine! Just a little cranky from being woken up, right, girl? Everything's fine," F coaxed Meatlug and tried to reach as far as he could in an attempt to scratch her chin while they continued to circle the arena.
That was a mistake.
Meatlug, despite F being on the chubbier side even as a child, couldn't see or feel him on her back in his current size. The hand between her eyes was a different story.
She growled and started spinning wildly to shake the boy off, and in less than three seconds, F came crashing into H. The two tumbled across the stone floor, taking A with them, and finally landed on S, right next to the twins.
The siblings innocently edged away from the last, now also open, pen.
Stormfly poked her head through the door and looked over the group of tiny humans that woke her up with sleepy curiosity. They were undeniably human but also smelled a bit too much like a bunch of fresh hatchlings that wandered too close to a human nest. She brought her head closer to smell them and they didn't seem angry or afraid like the loud, smelly Vikings that usually pestered her. The blonde hatchling even reached out to her and scratched that one heavenly spot on her neck that she could never quite get to.
That was when Meatlug ended her frantic flight by crashing into Stormfly. The Nadder whipped around to snap at the smaller dragon and accidentally whacked Barf's head with her tail. The double-headed dragon charged out of its pen, bringing a cloud of Zippleback gas with it.
Almost instantly, the green cloud came in contact with the ball of fire that was Hookfang.
With a loud whoosh, a huge mushroom cloud coloured in hues of orange, red, and yellow, rose to the sky, lighting up the surrounding cliffs and instantly melting the chain dome. All the dragons, including Hookfang, stopped their rampaging and together with the riders, who were safely hidden behind Stormfly's fireproof scales, watched the inferno with child-like fascination.
It took a full minute for the fire and smoke to finally dissipate and the arena to go quiet again. The dragons and riders looked hypnotized at the leftover embers floating through the air.
"That. Was. Awesome!" T shouted while R promptly fainted of excitement.
"So much for staying inconspicuous," H grumbled, brushing a piece of melted iron of his armour.
"I... I think someone in the village might have heard that," F said shakily, looking close to fainting again himself.
"Oh, you think?" A hissed, pointing to the lights approaching from the village.
As the shouting of angry, freshly woken up Vikings came closer, H came up with a plan.
"Act normal!"
"That. Was. Awesome!" Tuffnut shouted, and was promptly dragged back down by Astrid.
The two Vikings just passing their hiding spot looked around for the source of the shout, but then quickly continued towards the arena. Astrid waited until their footsteps faded and then peeked back out to make sure no one else was coming towards them. She didn't want anyone, mainly those demon children, to know that they were there.
When the coast was clear, she started leading the other teens back into the village, careful to avoid the last few stragglers heading towards the arena.
"Well, at least we can be sure they're not just normal kids," Fishlegs peeped as they walked.
"I mean, Thorston kids usually cause their first explosion after two winters, so I wouldn't say it's that strange," Tuffnut shrugged.
Snotlout rolled his his eyes with a scoff. "Two winters and one explosion? Pah! We Jorgensons have to kill a bear at nine months!"
"I think you mean a bat," Ruffnut snickered, causing Snotlout to whirl on her, face redder than a freshly cooked lobster.
Hiccup glanced at Astrid, who was being suspiciously quiet despite the others risking their cover. She seemed to be so deep in thought that she couldn't even hear them.
Hiccup couldn't blame her. What they saw in the arena worried him as well. Worried... but also intrigued. The way those children acted around dragons either confirmed the tales about dragons that disguise themselves as humans, or those six had a similar relationship with dragons as he had with Toothless.
But the fact remained that they almost released a flock of angry dragons on his sleeping village. There was no telling what else could happen if they were left to their own devices.
First he had to find out what their goal was. Dragon talk could come after.
"So, what now?" Hiccup asked once they reached his house.
The other teens stopped arguing and turned to Astrid, who finally looked up at them and gripped her axe.
"Now you get to bed. If this doesn't show the Chief how dangerous these kids are, we'll need to do a whole lot of evidence to convince him. Rest up. Tomorrow, we'll take down some babies."
When Stoick was woken up in the middle of the night by Gobber telling him about an explosion in the arena, he expected anything, from the Terrible Terror breaking out, to a full-blown dragon raid. But when he and a large group of his warriors reached the arena, armed to the teeth, they found something he did not expect -- the strange children, who should have been sleeping in the Great Hall, toddling around in a circle of freed dragons. And mind you, they weren't on fire or in the process of being eaten, oh no. They were shoving and poking each other, yelling gibberish at the top of their lungs, and trying their best not to look at the shell-shocked Vikings.
In other words, they acted just like normal, healthy Viking children would act.
And the dragons weren't rampaging or trying to escape either, instead they were watching the children with what looked almost like... surprise? Curiosity?
Stoick blinked and shook his head vigorously, banishing the thought. That was ridiculous! Dragons didn't have emotions! They were mindless beasts who took away his wife and many of his people, threatened his village daily, and were the main cause of famines during winter. And four of these beasts were currently roaming free, right on the outskirts of the village, possibly-- No, definitely about to devour those children.
"Chief, is it just me or are those dragons... not acting like dragons?" Gobber asked, staring at the scene before them.
"I don't care if they're acting like dragons, yaks, or the gods themselves. Get them back in their cages where they belong," Stoick growled back.
Gobber just shrugged and followed his rule of 'fight now talk later'. He let out a war cry and charged into the arena, followed by the others who similarly didn't have any qualms about brawling their problems away. The dragons perked up at Gobber's yell, but didn't even have time to properly register the charging Vikings before they were showered with bolas.
Stoick wrestled the restrained Monstrous Nightmare back behind the metal door and made sure it was safely locked in. Once all the other dragons were contained, he made his way over to Gobber and the children to ask how in Thor's name they ended up in the arena again. Actually, he had a couple more questions he would like to get answers to.
"Chief, this is amazing!" Gobber said before he could speak. "The kids are completely fine. No burns, no bites, not even a scratch. It's like the dragons didn't even think 'bout hurting them."
Stoick paused and whatever he was about to say vanished from his mind. The strange relief he felt at seeing the children -- and particularly the auburn-haired boy -- safe, got pushed aside by that familiar rustling in his ears. Through that sound, a theory started taking shape.
Slowly, a grin spread across his face.
"Everyone, go home and get something sleep," he called out to the people in the arena. "Tomorrow morning we meet in the Great Hall to discuss what happened here."
Some of the Vikings (the smarter ones who knew something wasn't quite right here) tried talking back, but one look from the Chief made them remember how tired they actually were, and they were quick to excuse themselves.
By the time they left the arena, most of them had forgotten what they were so worried about.
"What about them, Stoick?" Spitelout asked, pointing at the kids. "Are we sure it's safe to leave them in the Great Hall after all this?"
Stoick glanced at the children, feeling a strange tug in his chest.
"Well... I suppose in that case, they'll have to stay at my house for now. That way I can keep an eye on them. Would that be sufficient for you, Spitelout?"
He could swear the children looked horrified at that sentence.
Spitelout's eye twitched and for a second he looked like he might attack him.
"Yes... of course, Chief," he finally hissed through gritted teeth, a sweet smile plastered on his face. He then stomped away, mumbling something along the lines of "Could have done that right away like I told him. Stoick the Vast? More like Stoick the Daft."
Stoick frowned but let the man go. He could pay him back for that nickname during the next dragon raid, maybe leave him in front of an angry Nadder for a second longer than he usually did.
Though, why was he so reluctant to take the kids with him? Was it the strange familiarity that scared him?
He dispelled the thought.
He was a Viking, a Chief. He didn't get scared.
He turned to the children, realising for the first time he would have to somehow get them to his house on his own. Before he could even think about how he was going to do that, he found himself already reaching down and scooping up the auburn-haired boy, despite the fact he wasn't even the closest to him. Refusing to question the strange action, he precariously stacked the children in his arms one by one. When he got them all held at least somewhat securely, his eyes wandered to the boy again, meeting his large green eyes.
"Well, it's not Gobber's hold, but we'll make it work, ey?" he said with a smile smile.
The boy's lower lip quivered and he quickly looked away. Stoick wasn't sure why, but his heart dropped a little at that.
Notes:
I was trying to figure out what nicknames to use for the future riders, but then I kinda just... gave up. Originally it was because I didn't like giving false names to familiar characters, which I don't really mind anymore, but now it's because figuring out nicknames for six people that aren't just random names requires more brain power than I currently have, ha ha haaa.... Yeah. So, let me know if these work or if I should try to make them more distinctive, maybe also put them in bold or something. I'm a bit worried that especially Astrid's new name will be hard to read in longer texts. I can still try to figure out new ones and replace them. Or you guys can give me your ideas. I dunno, I'm tired. Nap time sounds nice. Let's all take a nap.
See ya in the next one.
Chapter 5: New (Temporary) Flocks
Summary:
Stoick reveals to his village the true face of the riders -- or so he thinks. Much farther up North, a somewhat displaced (and displeased) Night Fury and its flock meet an old friend
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The riders sat around the crackling fireplace in silence. Stoick was lounging in his chair behind them, sharpening his sword, sometimes glancing at them as if to make sure they weren't trying to make a run for it. The room was warm and cozy, and yet it felt like it was closing in on them.
"Oh, this is all my fault. I'm supposed to be the reasonable one, but I ran out like a Snotlout and almost got us killed." F whimpered quietly, ignoring S's offended "Hey!"
H waited for Stoick to start sharpening his weapon again before whispering back, the screeching of metal and crackling of the fireplace hiding his voice in the otherwise quiet house.
"It's not all your fault, F. If S and the twins didn't wake the dragons up, none of this would have happened, and I should have stopped you from leaving the Great Hall in the first place. We all want our dragons back and we're all on edge. No one blames you for acting a little recklessly."
F didn't look entirely convinced but still gave him an appreciative smile.
They quickly stopped talking when Stoick looked at them again and shook his head in disbelief.
"I'll say, Hiccup was no heavy sleeper as a wee child--" H looked up but stopped himself when he realised Stoick was talking about his past self. "--but even he would have tired himself out by now."
The Chief went back to his sword, still shaking his head.
H glanced at the window and only now noticed the red tinge on the horizon, indicating the coming of dawn. It must have been almost twenty-four hours since they last slept, and now that he realised as much, he was definitely starting to feel like it.
"He's right, we should get some sleep so that we're ready for whatever happens tomorrow," A whispered.
The other riders gave agreeing mumbles and settled in, soon falling asleep where they sat.
A snuggled closer to H as he watched the dancing flames, just like she had on many occasions before. When H closed his eyes, he could almost hear Toothless's purring in the corner and his mother's humming in the other room.
He could almost forget he wasn't home.
He'd almost fallen asleep when A spoke again, even quieter than before as to not wake their friends.
"Hey, how are you feeling? You know, about this whole time travel thing... and your father."
H flinched and snuck a quick glance at Stoick. The Chief looked close to falling asleep himself, the sword he was holding dangerously close to falling on his foot.
"I'm... not sure," he said slowly. "It hasn't even been a year since he died, A. Seeing him like this, safe and sound... There's just so much I want to tell him, and I have to constantly remind myself that it's not him. Not yet."
The last words came out shaky, and A wrapped her arms around him to comfort him.
"You know, if we're somehow still here once the whole Red Death thing happens... you could talk to him. You could warn him about Drago and the Bewilderbeast, and tell him your mom is alive and reunite them sooner. Maybe it won't change anything in the end, but it might make you feel better." Hesitating slightly, she added, "I know you're still blaming yourself for what happened. You've been talking in your sleep."
H refused to look away from the fire, knowing just one look at A would cause him to crack.
Of course he'd considered somehow changing what was about to happen. He'd been quietly mulling that thought over in the back of his mind since the moment he realised what actually happened.
Suffice to say, he was tempted to do it, and the fact that A suggested it too only made it even more appealing. But even though he was far from a time travel expert, it wasn't that hard for him to figure that one wrong word or action could set off a chain of changes that would end badly for future Berk. Once they got back, they could arrive in a utopia where his father was alive and everything was perfect, or they could just as well arrive in a world enslaved by Drago or some other lunatic, with Berk burned to the ground.
He couldn't risk the safety of his people, friends, and family for one last chance to talk to his father.
"You and I both know I can't do that," he mumbled, pulling A closer. "We already did a lot of crazy stuff today, I don't need to add causing a time paradox to that list."
A leaned in and gave him a small kiss on the cheek, which made him realise how much shorter than her he used to be.
"He would be proud of you, Hiccup. Just like I am."
H forced a small smile, but it did little to strengthen his resolve. Luckily, soon his eyelids grew heavier, and he and A fell asleep together in front of the flickering fire. H's last thoughts before sleep took him were of Toothless. Wherever he was -- hopefully back in their future -- he hoped he and the other dragons were safe.
Cold-salty air brushed over Toothless' scales as the endless-blue-deep of the ocean flew past far below. There was no land nor ships in sight. The sky was clear and the winds favourable. The perfect conditions for flying.
But the normally calm scene infuriated Toothless for one simple reason.
He wasn't the one flying.
Once again he tried to free his wings that had been pinned to his sides, but he only succeeded in flailing his paws -- Why were they small? Where were his scars? His sharp claws and tough scales? -- in the air uselessly and slapping his face with his tail.
He caught sight of his tail fins as he did so, both flesh and scale. His dead-cold-leather fin was missing, just like the leather-nest-saddle of his human-brother Hiccup.
The elderly Windstriker carrying him flexed his claws to grip him better.
'Calm, Hatchling' he rumbled towards him. 'Nest Safe.'
Toothless just hissed at him in general displeasure and continued thrashing.
He was no hatchling! And Safe was useless without Hiccup! Something had gone wrong on the trapper-killer-hunter ship and he had to find him and their other human-halves before something even worse happened! Their soft-squishy humans were practically helpless without them, and he knew all his closest flockmates were nearby, even if he could only see two.
Sharp-fast-agile Stormfly was carried a little ahead of him, constantly threatening the poor Thornridge carrying her with scratching out his eyes if he didn't let her go. Tricky-exploding-two-headed Barf and Belch were unusually calm in the claws of a large Timberjack to his left, assessing the situation, calculating and scheming in their usual Zippleback fashion. But Toothless also got the feeling they were slightly lost without their human-halves.
Just like he was.
The Windstriker was growing tired of his constant thrashing now and let out a puff of smoke and a small growl.
'Calm!' he repeated more angrily.
'Humans Danger,' a smaller Gronckle flying past them added.
Toothless snarled at her. He knew what the dragon was getting at, and he did not appreciate it. Since the moment these dragons lifted them from the forest of Berk -- How had they gotten there? What happened to the danger-pain-kill hunter? To Hiccup? -- Toothless had tried explaining to their self-proclaimed rescuers what was happening. He even ordered them to let him go, using all his Presence as Alpha... but nothing worked.
These dragons thought he and his flockmates had been captured and traumatised by hunters and didn't give weight to anything he said.
Somehow these dragons didn't see him as Alpha.
Did it have to do something to do with the strange scent coating his scales? The weird shiver he felt passing over him? Did the same thing change him and the others into such small bodies?
Where was Hiccup?
Time and distance continued passing, and Toothless continued his attempts at escape. The air got colder and the sea was dotted with sheets of cold-hard ice, and Toothless stopped trying to bite the Windstriker's leg when a flash of blue-white caught his eye.
An island of ice, rock, and snow appeared on the horizon and was rapidly growing closer as the dragons carrying them caught a fresh current, clearly headed for that very island. Toothless narrowed his eyes and noticed Stormfly become similarly alert. There was something familiar about that island, particularly the crown of massive ice spikes that jutted up near the shore, like a nest, or a--
Sanctuary.
But that was destroyed in the attack of slaver-killer-usurper Drago!
'Nest Safe,' the Windstriker grumbled, sounding pleased. 'Human-Dragon-Caretaker Heal.'
Toothless froze.
Human-Dragon-Caretaker? But that was...
The spikes of the Sanctuary towered over them as they rode the current down and approached the entrance.
And there stood Human-Dragon-Caretaker Valka. The faster dragons from Toothless's group, the ones who went ahead when they'd found them, were gathered around her, chattering to her in voices Valka understood as best as any human could.
Seeing her stunned Toothless so much that he stayed completely still until the moment the Windstriker landed, carefully depositing him on the ground. His flockmates were dropped around him, and the dragons created a small half-circle around them, clearly expecting them to try and run or fight.
But that was the last thing on Toothless's mind.
He dashed forward, avoiding the grab of a large Stormcutter -- That couldn't possibly be regal-dignified-friend Cloudjumper! -- and lodged his too-small claws in Valka's pant leg as he tried to force her to understand his distressed shrieks. Valka winced when one of the claws managed to find its way through the reinforced material and into her skin, but still dutifully lowered herself to him.
"Why hello there, wee one. It's been a long time since I've seen one of your kind. And you keep such peculiar company, too," she said as the other smaller dragons crowded her as well, looking for their own human-halves.
Why was she acting like she didn't know them?! Surely she at least knew where Hiccup was, right? She had to! He was her hatchling!
"Whoa, easy now!" Valka laughed when gentle-protective-mother Meatlug practically tackled her in her desperate questioning. "I'm sorry, wee ones, I don't know where your parents are, but you'll be safe here until we find them."
Parents? No, not parents! Riders!
But for all her kinship with dragons, Valka didn't understand. She gently pushed them all back and offered Toothless a hand -- as if they'd never met before!
"You are in the Sanctuary now, among your own. No one will hurt you here."
With a huff and a roll of his eyes, Toothless pressed his snout into Valka's hand, hoping that would make her drop this strange act.
He backed away almost instantly.
Her scent was wrong, all wrong, too dragon! There were no scents on her from the human-nest-village. In fact, there were no human scents at all, save for the slightest hint of a dragon hunter that was mixed with that very human's long since dried blood.
But as Toothless searched Valka's wrong scent in confusion, another scent brushed his nose. It was coming from deeper within the Sanctuary, pervading the air in a way unmistakably meant to mark territory.
The scent of the King of Dragons.
'Impossible. Imposter?' fiery-temperamental-protector Hookfang hissed at his side when he also caught the scent. He and Stormfly flanked Toothless protectively from both sides while his other flockmates gravitated even closer.
Toothless stared into the depths of the Sanctuary, nostrils flaring as he took in the impossible scent. The King of Dragons was surely dead, so an imposter was the most likely explanation, but who could so perfectly replicate the scent of the great Alpha?
No, there had to be another explanation, perhaps the same one he needed to understand where Hiccup was.
He glanced up at Valka and saw her looking down at them with a confused expression. If she wouldn't give them an explanation, then whoever this scent belonged to surely would.
Toothless spread his wings to fly, but then hesitated. He glanced at his tail, all wrong without the blotch of red.
He couldn't fly yet, not until he knew for sure Hiccup wasn't near, until flying without him would be the only way to reach him.
He folded his wings back to his sides.
Walking it was.
With his flockmates gathered close and hissing at anyone who dared approach, Toothless trotted deeper into the icy tunnels of the Sanctuary, going to meet his fellow Alpha, the ancient King of Dragons.
Only a couple hours after the riders had fallen asleep, when the sunlight from the window just reached the fireplace, they were startled awake by a shrill scream that echoed around the house. Spurred by years of experience, everyone bolted upright, reaching for their weapons and looking around for danger even before they were even fully awake.
All they saw was was a scrawny, auburn-haired boy staring at them from the foot of the stairs.
"How the... when did you..." Hiccup stuttered, struggling for words.
"Whoa, when did Hiccup get all wimpy again?" T asked in a sleepy voice.
Having just woken up, all of the other riders, including H, had to ponder that question for a bit.
Slowly, the events of the previous day came back to them.
R and T opened their mouths at the same time and S quickly slapped his hands over their faces with a loud hiss. F let out a whimper and watched the young Haddock as if he was about to explode, while H and A shared a look, already thinking of how to explain themselves.
The door to Stoick's room burst open and the Chief stormed out, sword in hand.
"Hiccup! Are you all right?! What happened?"
Hiccup slowly looked away from T and shakily pointed at the future riders.
"What the Hel are they doing in our house?"
Stoick looked between his son and the children before laughing and sheathing his sword.
"Oh, I see. You were already asleep when we came back so this must've been a bit of a scare, ey? There was some trouble around the arena last night that they were involved in and I decided they'll be staying here from now on."
Hiccup blanched and he was pretty sure the children did too.
"Y-you're just letting strangers stay in our house?! Can't you see that they're not normal?"
Stoick raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking serious.
"I'm well aware of that, son. In fact, I think I know exactly what is going on here."
The future riders froze.
There was no way Stoick actually figured it out, right? And if he did, why did he appear so calm? Did he only figure out they were from the future and not that they were dragon riders? How in the world would he have managed that?
Hiccup looked equally stunned.
"You... you do?"
Stoick nodded. "I was just about to head to the Great Hall to explain what happened last night. You should come too. Dragon training will have to be postponed anyways for some... small repairs of the arena."
Without waiting for Hiccup's answer, Stoick walked up to the children and picked up H. Hiccup's eyes momentarily met the boy's, and the feeling of familiarity he had in the Great Hall returned tenfold. Stoick went to reach for the blonde girl next, but she suddenly jumped to her feet and toddled to the door, where she stopped and looked at them with sparkling eyes, laughing as she clapped her hands happily.
Hiccup could swear he heard one of the children snort and saw the girl's look harden into a starngely familiar murderous glare for a fraction of a second.
"Oh... well, I suppose that's to be expected," Stoick said to himself as the other children also got up to follow the girl. He looked at the boy in his arms with a raised eyebrow. "What about you? Want to join your friends?"
The boy seemed to consider this for a moment, but then snuggled deeper into Stoick's arms, hiding his face in his tunic.
After his surprise melted away, a warm smile spread across Stoick's face. Hiccup was taken aback when he recognised it as the smile that his father had only recently started giving him again.
The smile of a loving father.
"Shall we get going then?"
...
As soon as they arrived in the Great Hall, Astrid dragged Hiccup to the side of the room, where the two joined the other teens. A watched them go with narrowed eyes. She remembered all too well how much she hated H at this point, and this didn't look like the usual 'I will kill you if you continue to be better than me' talk.
If those two were working together against them... they'll have to watch their backs. She knew better than anyone how deadly of a duo they made.
The riders were once again lifted onto the head table while Vikings started piling inside. Once the Hall was so full people had to stand on the benches, Stoick raised his hands to get their attention.
"Some of you may have already heard about the dragons breaking out last night," he began, his voice carrying over the crowd. Some Vikings, mainly those who were part of the event, nodded, while others started whispering amongst themselves, only hearing about it now. Vikings were strong sleepers after all.
"Rest assured the dragons are contained and never got out of the arena, so there is nothing in need of repair," Stoick continued.
"Or at least nothing outside the arena," Gobber added quietly.
The future twins snickered when they remembered the blazing inferno that vaporized the chain dome, the sound faintly echoed by their younger selves.
"Unfortunately, we still don't know how the dragons got out. What we do know, however, is that they--" Stoick gestured to the riders. "--were in the arena before any of us got there. The dragons did not attack them and didn't try to escape while they were there."
The whispers started again with renewed intensity, and the riders felt many suspicious stares turn to them. Depending on what Stoick said next, they could ens up fleeing the Hall with torches and weapons at their backs.
"Many of you are probably wondering who these children are. Well, I have thought hard about it, and I believe I have found the answer."
Everything went silent and all eyes turned to Stoick. The tensions in the air was almost palpable.
"These children..." the Chief continued slowly, looking like he was enjoying keeping his fellow Vikings in suspense. H gulped and prepared his small legs for the run of his life.
"They are a gift from Odin himself!" Stoick hollered, and everyone in the hall jumped at the sudden increase in volume. "He sent them to us with his lightning, clad in the scales of the monsters they will slay, to reward us for our bravery in withstanding the dragons' attacks! The beasts fear them, and as long as they stay in our village, we shall be safe!"
There was a moment of stunned silence.
And then the Vikings went wild.
Everyone in the Hall started celebrating and crowded around the table with the riders. The sound of cheering and elated laughter drowned out the audible slap as two sets of Astrids and Hiccups facepalmed in unison.
There truly was no explanation for a Viking's logic.
...
As the attention turned away from him, Stoick stepped away from the table, careful to hide his face and the conflicted expression creeping across it.
He pushed back the urge to look behind him, afraid-- No, never afraid! He was... cautious, yes, cautious of meeting the eyes of that child.
Truthfully, until the moment the words left his mouth, he wasn't sure if he was going to proclaim the children demons or saints. In the end, he went with what he thought was best for the village. His people needed hope, and blessings from their gods were exactly what would bring that. If they turned out to be something else, well... he would just deal with them like he did with all enemies of Berk.
And like this, he would have time to figure out why that child was so strangely familiar. Why he felt such need to protect him.
Notes:
I'd just like to stress that the dragons aren't actually talking like a human would, it's more like they have a set of sounds that each correspond to a different thing or idea and I'm just here to sort of translate them for you. For some reason, I don't really like fics where the dragons talk just like humans would. I've read one or two that were than well, but most of them just feel like... I dunno, like the only way the author could think of to make them seem more than dumb animals was to make them talk like humans. I'm not saying writing like that is bad, of course. Like everything, it can be done right. I should stop talking now.
See ya in the next one
Chapter 6: How to Meet Your Enemies (Again)
Summary:
An unexpected visitor and old enemy of the riders makes the day (and following night) slightly more eventful.
Notes:
Forgot to mention in the last chapter that sometimes the future riders will be using each other's actual names, such as in emotional or stressful situation, just to underscore the importance of the moment. I'll do my best make sure it's never done in context that could be confusing.
Also, don't be too mad at Johann, he can't help it, he's evil :D
Bon Appetite!
Chapter Text
Hiccup flinched and almost dropped his spoon when a loud banging sounded on the door. His father, who was sitting across him, dropped his own utensil with a growl and stomped over to the door for what felt like the tenth time that morning.
When he opened it, the voices Hiccup had been somewhat successfully ignoring gained a new volume.
"Stoick, ya have to let us see them!"
"My child is so frail, Chief, I know they can help him!"
"I'm supposed to battle Silent Sven today, I need their guidance!"
"My field is dyin', Stoick! I'm sure if you just let me take them for an hour or--"
"ENOUGH!"
Hiccup leaned back in his chair at his father's bellow to peek at the front door and quickly ducked back. The sea of faces outside was endless, even larger than when Vikings came complaining about his inventions after raids.
"I know you are all eager to get the Blessings' help, but they are still just children. Give them some peace and quiet to eat and they will surely be happy to address your struggles after," Stoick said firmly.
The voices outside changed into annoyed grumbling and the occasional shouted protest, but the crowd slowly dispersed, countless footsteps squelching in the mud outside. With a sigh, Stoick closed the the door and rejoined Hiccup at the table, grumbling into his beard. They both knew the crowd wouldn't stay away for more than an hour.
Hiccup swallowed another spoonful of soup, stubbornly refusing to look at the cause of the commotion.
The six children, newly dubbed 'Blessings of Odin', were sitting at the opposite side of table, quietly eating their own food.
It had been barely two days since Stoick's 'big revelation', and yet the villagers were already acting like they couldn't do anything without the children nearby. Be it a betrothal, building a house, or simply choosing a place for a new field, they needed them there, otherwise they would apparently risk angering the gods. At one point, some poor woman even tried to get them to give her son their blessing -- Mind you, the boy was older than the six of them combined. Probably the only place they hadn't visited yet was Mildew's house, despite the fact that the elder was rumoured to have been cursed with a deep sleep. No one was really in a hurry to wake him up.
The Berkians also made sure to boast about them to the few travellers that stopped on their island, often making it sound almost like it was Odin himself who came to their village.
But as far as Hiccup was concerned, he just suddenly gained six new, very strange siblings. His father was careful to keep them at his side at all times, even taking them along on nearly all his chiefly duties, and there was also the matter of Hiccup's new group of friends -- no, temporary allies was more accurate -- hell-bent on getting those 'siblings' kicked off Berk.
And the worst part was, he wasn't quite sure what side he was on.
With a clack, Stoick laid down his now empty bowl and stood up. Almost as if they were waiting for it, the children stood up as well. Just like many days before, Hiccup noticed a few of them pocketing scraps of meat, looking like they had done it on instinct and were surprised when they realised they did it.
"I suppose it's time we get started for the day," Stoick remarked while glancing out the window. A few people were already loitering outside the house again.
He considered his son for a moment and then asked, "Since dragon training hasn't been restarted yet, do you want to come with us?"
The unexpected offer surprised Hiccup so much he nearly choked on his food.
"Oh! Uh, that's a... generous... offer, Dad, but I've got some stuff that I need to do. Y'know, personal training and... stuff. Sorry, but--"
"No, no, that's fine, of course! Training is important, especially when official training is on hold," Stoick said quickly, looking equal parts disappointed and relieved.
The two remained awkwardly silent for a few moments, the children looking between them with strange expressions.
"Right, yes, well... we'll get going then. Good luck with your training, son," Stoick said finally and headed for the door.
"T-thanks, you too," Hiccup called back, eyes glued to his food.
Stoick's steps left the house, followed by the patter of smaller feet, and a few seconds later, the shouting outside started all over again.
Now that he was alone, some of the tension finally left Hiccup's body. He quickly finished the rest of his food and tugged his shoes on before heading for the back door. He glanced around to make sure his father wasn't still nearby and then slipped outside.
His hope that he would get to see Toothless vanished when he saw the other teens waiting nearby.
"Finally! Do you bathe every morning or something?" Tuffnut greeted him, getting off his sister who he'd until then been wrestling with.
"Actually, regular hygiene is quite important--" Fishlegs started but was interrupted by Snotlout's groan.
"Hygiene shmigiene! We Jorgensons don't bathe! Any filth is too scared to even touch us."
"Oh really? Because you've got quite the burn spot on your Jorgenson behind," Ruffnut snorted, and she and her brother descended into laughter when Snotlout started spinning in a circle to try and see the back of his pants.
"Will you morons shut up?" Astrid snapped at the group, for once making everyone and not just Hiccup flinch. Her piercing eyes turned to Hiccup, who was starting to wonder whether going with his dad wouldn't have been better. "Did anything happen last night?"
"Uh..." Hiccup's eyes flickered towards the other teens, who were now watching him intently. "N-no, not really. Nothing happened last night."
Technically, he was telling the truth. Nothing weird had happened that night. However, he still hadn't told any of them that one of the kids said his name the night before, not to mention the rest of the sentence, which was equally strange. He didn't know why, he just... felt like it wasn't something he should share just yet.
The others teens groaned in disappointment and Astrid's axe hand twitched dangerously.
"Well, that's fine," she grumbled, sounding like it was anything but fine. "I didn't expect this to be easy anyways. We'll just have to find some evidence while they're with the Chief. Follow my lead and try not to attract attention."
The other teens answered with indistinct grumbles and shuffled after her as she went after Stoick and the children. Hiccup slowly drifted to the very back of the group and tried not to think about Toothless's hurt expression when he once again got to the Cove late.
"...and it hasn't been giving me any eggs."
H repressed a groan and the vivid flashbacks to his own confrontation with Yoran over much the same thing. For the past ten minutes, the farmer had been lamenting a recent purchase of livestock that hadn't been giving him the desired products, which was a mistake H remembered him making at least four times in the single year he was chief.
After listening intently to the man's explanation, Stoick turned to the riders.
"Well, what do you think?"
H's eye twitched in irritation. His father hadn't even tried to solve most of the problems he brought them to, even though some had quite obvious solutions, and H couldn't shake the feeling the Chief was testing them somehow.
He looked back and motioned to T, who had been visibly restraining himself from running to the pen where the problematic chickens were gathered. With an elated squeal that very much sounded like a child's, T slipped through the fence and pounced at the chickens. The poultry fled with terrified squawks, bowling the fence over and scattering around the small field, but one wasn't fast enough and ended up in T's grasp.
The boy carefully turned the chicken around, examining it from all sides, then plucked one of its tail feathers and held it against his ear for a moment, nodding to himself. He proceeded to hold a long clucking conversation with the chicken, which confused the bird as much as it did the onlooking Vikings.
Finally, T beamed and turned to Gobber, who was tasked by Stoick to be their translator. Thanks to his practice with Gothi, the blacksmith was good at understanding their attempts to communicate without actually talking.
T lifted the chicken up and squeezed it, making a plopping sound with his mouth, and shook his head. He then pointed to the fence and shook the chicken up and down, letting out a near flawless imitation of a rooster's crow. Then he just stared at the blacksmith in expectation.
"I believe what he's trying to tell you, is that this isn't a chicken. Yer merchant sold ye a rooster with cut feathers," Gobber translated slowly.
T's face was split by a giant grin and he nodded vigorously. His grip on the unmasked rooster loosened, and the bird took off towards the chicken coop, quickly pursued by the boy.
"If I were teh guess, it's probably the same with all yer new animals," Gobber added.
Yoran's face darkened considerably.
"Excuse me for a moment, Chief," he growled and brushed past Stoick and deeper into the crowd of onlookers that had been tailing the riders since morning. Soon after came the unmistakable sounds of a brawl, accompanied by shouted insults that H had become well acquainted with while solving conflicts in his Berk.
"Here we go again," Stoick sighed and took off after Yoran, pushing harshly through the crowd that was already eagerly cheering the unseen brawlers on.
H winced sympathetically, knowing full well how much of an ordeal breaking up Viking brawls was. Though, having a Night Fury by his side and a whole flock of dragons on hand probably gave him an advantage.
While Stoick was busy, H turned to gather his friends so they wouldn't be separated when the crowd focused on them again. He rounded up everyone except T, who had yet to come out of the coop he followed the rooster to.
"T, come on out! Leave the rooster, we don't need it anymore," H called into the coop.
No answer.
"Tuffnut?" he tried again, quieter while calling his friend's full name.
He poked his head through the small door, and once his eyes to adjusted to the gloom inside, he saw T crouched over something near the back wall, eerily still. All the chickens were gathered against the opposite wall, and H could swear they were shaking in fear.
"Uh, Tuff? What are you--"
The boy suddenly shot up and marched towards H, shoving something round and feathery into his face.
"Do you know who this is?!"
H coughed, clumsily pushing the thing out of his face. After spitting out a mouthful of feathers, he looked at it and saw...
"A chicken?" H glancing between the bird and T's ecstatic smile. "This is a chicken coop, T, there are going to be chickens here."
T's expression dropped a little.
"Can you not see it?!" He shoved the chicken into H's face yet again. "The shape! The colouring! The texture! How can you not recognise her?!"
With his face full of feathers again, H couldn't manage more than a muffled "Pfffnthhnn!" as he fought for air.
"This is none other than the life giver of my beloved Chicken; the one I now dub Mother Chicken!" T announced solemnly, holding the chicken high, thus freeing H. "Alas, we never could be introduced before, but the likeness! It's impeccable! Ha ha! Get it? Im-peck-able? Sometimes my genius surprises even me."
H stared for a moment, trying very hard not to repeat his father's earlier word.
"You do realise that Chicken is not from... You know what, sure. Just... say your goodbyes and come on out. We'll probably be moving soon."
He ignored T's sad whine and walked back out of the coop, just in time to see his father emerging from the crowd. Judging by the dishevelled state of his tunic and beard, he must have gotten involved in the brawl as more than just a peaceful negotiator.
"Well, I don't think we'll be hearing a peep from those two for a while," he said, brushing his hands off.
He crouched down to them, right in front of H, who fought hard not to step back.
"I know this is all a tad exhausting, but just bear with them. To them, this is hope, and Odin knows they don't get nearly enough of that these days. I suppose that's why he sent you, ey?" the Chief said quietly.
Blinking away the sting in his eyes, H managed a small smile. Stoick smiled back in a way that H remember all too well from his later years on his lips. It was a proud smile.
But H didn't deserve his father's pride.
"All right, who's next?" Stoick called out when he straightened again, and immediately at least twenty different voices shouted back.
H sighed and looked at his friends, who had the same exhausted expressions as him. T had rejoined them by then, the front of his tunic suspiciously inflated.
"T, I told you to leave the chicken," H said dryly.
T's eyes widened and he looked around innocently. "Chicken? What chicken? I don't see any chicken. Do you, sis?"
"No poultry as far as the eye can see, brother," R agreed, just as T's tunic let out a loud squawk.
H was just debating whether throwing one of the twins off a cliff would be worth getting discovered, when a commotion broke out across the village. It was so loud that it caused even those vying for Stoick's attention to turn that way.
When the riders understood what the people there were shouting, all of them froze.
"Trader Johann! Trader Johann is here!"
From one second to the next, the riders stopped being the centre of attention. The crowd surrounding them took off towards the harbour, and chaos followed. Vikings were shoving, pushing, and yelling at each other like a gaggle of children as they raced to be the first on the merchant's ship.
"That's strange, we didn't expect Johann until the end of the harvest," Stoick mumbled, wincing at a distant crash and enraged yelling. "I suppose I should go make sure no one sets anything on fire again." He looked at the riders with a conflicted expression. "It's going to get a bit wild down there, easy to accidentally hurt a couple wee ones like you. Then again, you are a part of Berk now, and the sooner you learn about our trade the better."
He paused as if giving them the chance to decide.
H glanced at his friends and lowered his voice, barely moving his lips as he spoke.
"Johann didn't visit Berk in our time, right?"
The others shook their heads.
H looked towards the docks where a crowd was steadily gathering around a docking ship. It wasn't unthinkable that rumours about them had already made their way beyond Berk, but for someone like Johann to have taken notice...
Waving for the others to follow, he headed towards the harbour. He didn't notice them instinctively falling into formation behind him, or the strange look in Stoick's eyes as they did so.
...
The docks were crowded and loud, just like during Johann's every visit. Berkians had gathered on and around the ship, going through wares and haggling with each other. More than once, someone came close to declaring a blood feud over a piece of soft fabric or a particularly shiny sword.
Only one thing was missing.
As A noticed first, those that were usually front and centre and yelling the loudest during Johann's visits were nowhere to be seen. Their younger selves weren't at the docks, and since dragon training had been paused to fix the arena, it was hard to imagine where else they could be.
But that wasn't really on the riders' minds at that moment, not with one of their greatest enemies parading around nearly at arm's reach.
Johann was, as always, in the middle of everything, practically glowing as he somehow helped every single Viking that called on him without making anyone wait too long. With how fast things were being sold, there was no doubt he would be leaving with his pockets full of gold.
The riders cautiously made their way onto the ship behind Stoick and quickly blended in among the towering crates and sacks, getting just close enough to Johann to hear him but not be seen.
"Ah, if it isn't Stoick the Vast, impressive and intimidating as always! With you at the helm, it's no wonder Berk still stands strong against those winged beasts," the merchant greeted Stoick, and H gritted his teeth at the high-pitched voice. He never thought he'd hear it again.
"And if it isn't Johann with the silver tongue. Still know exactly what to say to get in my good graces, ey?" Stoick laughed and clapped Johann on the back with all his unrestrained force, almost sending the merchant tumbling into the sea.
"I assure you, everything I say is as truthful as the quality of my goods. There is no need to sweet-talk a gracious man as just as you," Johann said with the practiced smile of a businessman. "So, what are we looking for today? A new sword, perhaps? Today I carry the greatest steel all the way from Mireglow island, where I outsmarted--"
"Nothing specific today, Johann," Stoick wisely interrupted the oncoming tale. "I still have everything from your last visit. We didn't expect you for a couple more months. Why the early visit?"
Johann gave a polite chuckle. "Yes, I do admit, the routes to Berk are especially challenging this time of year, but I simply couldn't stay away from my most favourite island of all, especially once I heard about a certain... strange event that occurred during your final trial of dragon training."
The riders shared a startled look. They suspected that could be the case, but the fact that news of their arrival had truly reached Johann in just two days was worrying. In their time, it had taken considerable time and effort to root out every bit of Johann's information network after his defeat, but they were under the impression that he'd only truly dug his claws into Berk after they started training dragons.
Clearly, they were wrong.
Stoick measured Johann with a long look, but the glimmer of smug pride in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Ah yes, that. Berk did welcome some very special new inhabitants a few days ago, if that's what you mean. In fact, they should be around here somewhere. They don't have anything of theirs right now, so I was hoping they'd find something that would catch their in your stock."
H quickly ducked back into their hiding spot as Stoick started looking around for them.
"All right, we need to find out how much Johann knows and if possible make sure he doesn't tell anyone about us. Any ideas?" he asked his riders quietly.
"That depends. How alive do you need him at the end of it?" A asked darkly.
Although it was tempting not to, H shook his head.
"I want to get rid of Johann as much as you do, but you remember how long it took us to find other reliable merchants after he betrayed us. And back then, we at least had dragons to bring in some of the things we needed. If we chase him away now, half of Berk will starve before the harvest."
The twins and S pouted, while A only raised an eyebrow. They didn't charge out to clobber Johann though, which was about as much as H could hope for.
In the next moment, a shadow was cast over them.
"There you are," Stoick said, focusing on H as he so often did. "Did you find anything you like? Berk is your home now, and no home is complete without something you can call your own."
The riders looked around, assessing the different wares they could see. If anything, they at least needed to make the most out of this situation.
A's eye caught on a box full of small daggers and crude axes, made as toys for children. She nudged H and pointed him to them. Their own weapons were lost when they travelled through time, so they were pretty much defenceless, and weapons like those were sadly the only that would fit their current size.
H examined them for a bit and then nodded. None of them came close to the quality of Inferno or any other real weapon, but with a bit of work, they could be made into acceptable tools for while they were here.
"I see you're already thinking like proper Vikings," Stoick laughed when all of them gathered around the box to make their pick. "I always said the sooner you learn to defend yourself, the better. Hiccup got his first axe the same week he was born. A proper tool for a budding Viking."
H held back a laugh. He remembered that axe -- In the future, he used it as a paperweight.
He finally found a suitable dagger that was really more like a proper sword to him at the moment. F found a similar but slightly shorter one, while S went for a short sword nearly longer than him. The twins got two matching toy maces that H was only half sure he wanted them to keep, and A picked out an axe that was as close to her own as possible.
With their selection made, they turned to Stoick and Johann, both of which were watching them with a bit too much interest for their liking.
"Ah, so these are the children your people have been telling me so much about. Divine gifts delivered by Odin's very lightning! Or so I've heard," Johann said, grinning, and H got ready to grab any of his friends in case they decided to try their methods of 'dealing with the problem'.
"Aye. We truly are fortunate," Stoick said, and H was surprised to see a hint of caution in the Chief's eyes, something he hadn't seen him express towards the merchant until he was unmasked.
Johann took a look at what they picked and, to the riders' displeasure, his interest visibly grew. "Well, they certainly have an eye for quality. These are all some of my best wares in that area. The prices will of course reflect that."
"Name your price, Johann, I will buy them all," Stoick said, folding his arms.
"Yes, of course, of course. I had no doubt," Johann nodded vigorously while taking out a piece of parchment and jotting down numbers. Every so often, his eyes wandered back down to the riders. "I must say, I was quite intrigued at hearing they were called Odin's Blessings by your people. I've heard the tales of their arrival, but Vikings do tend to exaggerate. Not me, of course, my stories are all true and told as they happened, such as the time when--"
"Whatever tales you heard surely had some truth to them," Stoick said, the caution morphing into distrust. "Any child is a blessing in these times, and we put much hope in the future of these six. There will surely be songs sung about them all across the Archipelago in the future, you can bet your entire cargo on that, Johann."
Something dangerous and greedy flashed in Johann's eyes for the smallest second, but when he turned to the Chief, it was gone.
"Well, in that case, I'm sure many will be entranced by my tale of meeting them so young, more so if weapons from my humble self will be instrumental in their first heroic acts, which is why I will graciously offer you a thirty percent discount. Here is the final price."
"How gracious indeed," Stoick grumbled, looking at the sum scribbled on the parchment with distaste. He looked down at the riders and his eyes softened. "Why don't you go back to the house and get acquainted with your new weapons? Even Thor's great hammer won't protect you in battle if you don't know how to wield it."
H nodded absently and went to sheathe his new 'sword' before he realised he didn't have any sheathe for a bladed weapon. He caught Johann still observing them with interest, but the moment they turned to leave the ship, he refocused on Stoick again as if they were never even there.
"One more thing, oh gracious Chief of Berk. I was hoping I could seek your hospitality for a while, just until the tides turn favourable again. I'm sure your people would love to hear the tale of the time I sailed beyond..."
The hum of the crowd and the crashing waves hid the rest of the conversation as the riders walked off the ship. The conversation left a sour taste in H's mouth, but he told himself that the suspicious glimpses he saw of Johann were just a result of him knowing who the man really was. Although he did express a moderate amount of interest in them, H doubted he would risk his standing with Berk to do anything.
With a bit of luck, their meeting shouldn't have that much of an effect down the timeline.
As they started the trek back to the village, F saw something move on a near ledge. When he took a step back and looked there, he met two wide green eyes, eyes that he knew very well. He didn't even get the chance to feel startled before his younger self was pulled behind the cliff outcropping, undoubtedly by one of the other teens.
Glancing back at the harbour, F could tell the group had found a hiding spot that gave them a clear view of Johann's ship. They had most likely seen the riders' entire interaction with the merchant, including how they hid for no apparent reason.
It was little more than a strange occurrence, easily discarded as a children's game, but F knew what they were like at that age. This would only make them more suspicious.
And a suspicious Viking was a dangerous Viking.
...
That night, H couldn't sleep. He felt trapped, like someone had chained his feet to the ground with the open sky right above his head. He never willingly stayed off Toothless for so long at a time, not even when his chiefly duties barely let him get any sleep. He desperately missed his dragon's company, but he also missed his wings, the ability to just leap off the ground and leave everything behind.
He missed breathing that crisp, clear air.
After an hour of tossing and turning with the images of the starry sky cramming his thoughts, he carefully slipped out of A's arms, tiptoed around where his friends slept on the furs that Stoick laid out for them around the fireplace, and slipped outside.
A cold breeze brushed his hair, bringing a chill into his bones. He wrapped his arms around himself and walked aimlessly through the village, letting his thoughts run their course.
As it had been the case for months, he was worried about countless things, but he was actually beginning to miss his usual worries. Now instead of village disputes and expiring treaties, he was worried about the six of them being discovered, about their missing dragons, Dagur and Heather, about Johann, about their past selves, who were apparently still suspicious of them, about how they were getting home, and countless other things that no Viking should have to worry about.
Normally in moments like these, he would talk to his mother or Toothless, but neither of them were here. He didn't want to trouble his friends, because he knew they had their own worries, and he didn't want to add him not knowing what to do to the pile.
If only he could talk to his father...
"...have him go all around spreading tales. It's his nature!"
H paused, straining his ears to hear the familiar voice. In the window of the forge, he saw the flickering light of a candle, bending around two Vikings, one of which was Gobber's familiar figure.
"We can't let him. I don't want news of them to spread too fast. If people like Alvin find out about them while they're still young, who knows what could happen."
That was Stoick's voice, and by the sound of it, he and Gobber were talking about him and the other riders.
H looked around for any patrols and then quickly ran to hide beneath the window, just as Gobber said, "Come now, Stoick, Johann's been Berk's most trusted merchant fer years. I'm sure he'll keep the story quiet if we ask."
The shadows moved as one of the two started pacing back and forth across the room.
"I hope you're right, Gobber. I'm just worried the merchant and storyteller part of him will win out over his loyalty to Berk."
H had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from scoffing.
"It's true that there's no story that man hasn't told. I swear I've heard the one about his birth at least a dozen times, and it always gets longer," Gobber marvelled.
"Hmm. I think I'll talk to him before he leaves in the morning, make sure he knows how important it is to keep the Blessings a secret. Some gold ought to keep his mouth shut."
Something clanged against a wooden surface, followed by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as someone got up.
"Yer willing to do an awful lot teh protect those wee ones, Stoick. Bribery's not like ye."
A short silence passed, in which H held his breath so he wouldn't miss his father's answer.
"...I'm just doing what's best for the village," Stoick retorted after a while, clearly defensive. "If the raids stop thanks to them, they're worth all the gold on Berk and more. Protecting the village is my only concern, Gobber."
"All right, all right! Don't get yer beard in a knot now. I was just saying..."
Deflated, H slowly backed away from the window, still listening for anything else his father might say.
He really didn't know what he was hoping to hear. For the man to suddenly figure everything out, accept dragons, and sweep him into one of his bearish, bone-crushing hugs?
Well... yes!
But that was all that was -- hope. Nonsensical, stupid, unrealistic hope that would never come true, because his father, the real one that he missed with all his heart even a year after his funeral, was--
Someone grabbed him from behind, cutting off his train of thought. A hand forced a flask with some liquid into his mouth, and in his surprise, H swallowed it.
Almost immediately, he started getting dizzy, and everything around him dissolved into dozens of blurred copies. He tried to fight against his assailant, but his already minimal muscles felt like they were made of jelly.
"Settle down now," a silken, menacingly calm voice whispered, and H knew he recognised it, but his brain was too slow to actually put a name to it. "Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. Just sleep. When you wake up, we'll already be far at sea."
H groaned, a result of him trying to call for his friends, or Toothless, or anyone else, but his tongue felt like lead, and he was so tired.
Slowly, he fell deeper and deeper into darkness, only vaguely aware that he was being carried away from the warmth of the village and towards the sound of waves and smell of salt.
Chapter 7: How to (Not) Get Kidnapped
Summary:
H's got himself kidnapped (again). The other riders have something to say about that. Up North, Toothless seeks the help of the King of Dragons.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sound of the door opening and shutting roused A from her sleep. She cracked one eye open to see Stoick in the entryway. The Chief took off his helmet and boots and smiled down at the riders' sleeping forms before disappearing in his room.
A was only awake enough to think that he looked unusually tired before rolling over again and trying to fall back to sleep.
Key word being trying. For some reason, she couldn't quite find the right position to lay in again. Irritated, she turned over and tried to snuggle closer to H... only to realise there was no H to snuggle to.
Now fully awake, she sat up and looked around the room. She half expected to see him curled up in the corner with Toothless before she realised Toothless wasn't with them either.
There were a lot of non-drastic and logical reasons for why he could have gotten up, but the more A thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. It was the same feeling she had when Viggo put a bounty on H's head.
Her betrothed was in danger.
"Guys, get up," she hissed, nudging S, who was laying nearest.
"Mrrh...wuh...nnn?"
"It's H. He's gone."
S stirred a bit more, sleepily looking around the room.
"Wsss 'nyone else 'ere?" he slurred.
"What? No, I don't think so, but H isn't here," A repeated, slightly irritated.
S grumbled, clearly torn between getting up to make sure his chief was okay, and the enticing call of sleep. The others started stirring as well, relaying what A said to each other in sleepy mumbles.
"Leave it be, A. He probably just needed to p-- Ouch!" T groaned when his sister rolled over and landed on his stomach.
A rubbed her eyes, silently wondering if they were right. She glanced outside and could swear she saw shapes moving in the darkness.
"I've been through enough to know to trust my instincts," she said, standing up. "Now, do you trust me enough to come with me, or am I going alone?"
"If you ask me, Astrid is overreacting."
"Maybe."
"So what if those kids are a little weird? Show me how they defeat a bear, then we'll talk."
"Mhm."
"I really don't see any need for us to be patrolling the village at night. This is just taking away from my beauty sleep."
"Snotlout, no one's forcing you to be here. We all know you're just here so you can hit on Astrid."
The teen recoiled, nearly setting his tunic on fire by running into the lantern Ruffnut was holding.
"A-am not! I don't need to do anything like that! She already loves me!"
"I think you got 'love' and 'loathe' confused, Snotman," Tuffnut chuckled.
Snotlout folded his arms with a growl. "You'll see! Once I kill my first dragon, Astrid will finally confess the love that she's been hiding for so long, and we'll live happily ever after as the two most badass dragon killers on Berk!"
"Riiight, because you were so close to winning that last trial," Tuffnut drawled.
"Of course I was! I-I was just... waiting for the right moment, that's all. Those kids arriving saved that dragon's butt!" Snotlout screamed, but the twins just continued snickering.
“I do wonder what will happen to our trials. Do you think there's any chance they'll restart them? With Hiccup suddenly getting good and Astrid competing with him, I feel like none of us really got a chance,” Fishlegs said thoughtfully.
“Hah! Speak for yourself, Fishface. I just didn’t want to take away their five minutes of glory,” Snotlout boasted.
Fishlegs just rolled his eyes, careful that Snotlout didn't see.
"Where is Hiccup anyways? Is he at the docks with Astrid?"
"He said he had something to do in the forge. If you ask me, he chickened out, unlike the great Snotman."
The twins immediately started poking fun at the boy again, causing him to loudly proclaim his worth for all to hear. Because of this, Fishlegs was the only one to hear the strange shuffling coming from underneath the house they were passing.
"Um, guys? Did you hear that?" he peeped, but the other three were already well away, still bickering.
"D-don't be afraid, Fishlegs," he mumbled to himself, shakily gripping his lantern. "It's probably just a-a cute baby sheep. Just a small, fluffy lamb."
He slowly bent over, shinning the light of the lantern beneath the house.
"Hello? Is any-AAAHH!"
He screamed and covered his head when a dark shape charged out at him. The lantern fell out of his hand and the flame snuffed out when it hit the ground, plunging his surroundings into darkness.
Fishlegs could hear the patter of feet rushing past him, but he didn't dare look up and just continued screaming, waiting to be attacked at any moment.
"Oh, for the love of Thor, Fishface, shut up!" someone yelled and a hand was slapped over his mouth. Fishlegs's eyes flew open and he winced when he looked right into the light of Ruffnut's lantern. She, Tuffnut, and Snotlout were standing over him, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"What, did you finally realise how useless you trying to be a dragon killer is?" Snotlout quipped, taking his hand away.
Fishlegs shook his head vigorously, partially so he could look around.
"B-beneath the h-house," he stuttered, pointing at the spot shakily. "Sh-shapes. With glo-glowing eyes. A-attacked me."
The three shared a look before Ruffnut carefully crouched underneath the house.
"Yeah nothing down there except some botched yaknog from out last Loki day. This thing did not age well," she called out.
"Ugh, you probably got freaked out by a stupid rat," Snotlout groaned, turning around on his heel. "Screw this, I'm going back to my bed. No one is stupid enough to be willingly doing anything this late at night."
"And we are... also going to bed. And not to use this yaknog for our newest secret contraption for Loki Day," Tuffnut said slowly, already backing away in the opposite direction of their house.
"B-but the thing--"
"It was a rat, Fishlegs! A rat! Feel free to chase after rodents all night if you want. I'm out!" Snotlout called over his shoulder.
"Right... A rat..."
Fishlegs gulped and shot one last look at the house before setting a quick pace for home. He would make sure to close his windows extra tight, because he could swear that shape looked human.
Waking up, H felt like someone took his head and replaced it with a drum filled with wool. The dull pounding in his skull, coupled with the blurriness of everything around him made it extremely hard to focus.
He stirred, relieved to find that his hands weren't tied. That didn't happen too often when he woke up in a drugged haze. Now if only he could remember what happened this time...
"How strange. A dose this size should have kept a child your age asleep until we were halfway out of the Archipelago."
H squinted up towards the voice. Red, blue, and brown blotches swam above him, slowly forming the outline of a person. With his slurred thoughts, he didn't fully understand what they said, but he knew someone wanting to take him outside the Archipelago sedated couldn't be good.
"Well, no matter. We'll be setting sail soon, and there's nowhere to go and no one to call to on the open sea. I'm sure I can find someone who'll buy a 'god's gift' in the Northern Markets. And who knows, if you fetch a good enough price, I might even bring you your little friends after my next visit to Berk," the voice continued thoughtfully.
That finally cut through the fog in H's mind, and after blinking some more, his surrounding finally took shape.
He was in the hull of a ship, surrounded by boxes and barrels stuffed to the brim with various fabrics, exotic fish, and other wares. The person standing over him was, unsurprisingly, Johann, his meek expression replaced with the cold and calculating look H remembered from before the man's death.
Oh. He got kidnapped. Again.
A was going to kill him.
He opened his mouth to ask what the Hel Johann was thinking, but then quickly closed it when he remembered who he was pretending to be. Johann raised an eyebrow at that, but then simply shook his head and turned around to rummage among the many boxes and crates.
"I suppose this at least gives us a chance to test out how true the tales about you are. Start figuring out what price to put on you."
H gulped and looked around for anything that could help him escape. He really wasn't tied down in any way, but Johann had placed him at the very back of the cargo hold behind a mountain of his merchandise, so he couldn't see if the exit hatch was blocked in any way. Even if it wasn't, his legs were still weak from whatever Johann knocked him out with, so he would likely not get very far.
A familiar hiss came from Johann's direction, and when the man straightened, H saw that he was holding a caged Terrible Terror. A very familiar Terrible Terror.
"It's unfair, really, that a dingy hole like Berk gets the best dragon trophies, but at least those moronic savages still know their way around a cage," Johann remarked casually, bringing Sharpshot closer to H. The little dragon was pressed against the opposite side of the cage, pupils pulled into barely visible slits and teeth bared with a warning hiss.
"This one hasn't eaten a thing for days. He's starving and half feral," Johann continued smugly and rotated the cage so that Sharpshot faced H. "But if you truly are blessed by the gods, I'm sure it will be no problem for you, hm?"
H gave the man a look very clearly saying 'You're insane.' Johann only smirked wider.
"Don't worry. If you die, you'll at least fatten the dragon up. Not that it'll help you, but for me, it's a profit either way."
With that, he opened the cage and unceremoniously shook Sharpshot out. The Terror flopped on the ground with a squawk, and H only then noticed that his wings were bound.
He watched cautiously as Sharpshot scrambled to his feet and started looking between him and Johann, guessing which was the greater threat, and which would give him a better chance of escape.
Unsurprisingly, he settled on H for the latter.
Normally, an aggressive Terror would barely be a problem, but Sharpshot was currently almost the same size as H, who in turn had little of his usual dragon training equipment. He would have to improvise, but then again, it was far from the first time he was pitted up against a dragon with no time to prepare.
"Easy," he whispered, hoping that Johann wouldn't hear over the creaking of wood and splashing of waves outside. "Easy now. I'm a friend."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of yak jerky from his pocket. He was now infinitely grateful that he and the other riders hadn't managed to get rid of their habit of pocketing scraps for their dragons from the table.
As soon as he smelled the meat, Sharpshot perked up and stopped hissing. Slowly, with his guard still up, he crept closer, nostrils flaring and pupils widening slightly. It took almost a full minute for him to cross the small stretch of space between them, but then his head shot forward like a snake's and ripped the food from H's fingers, almost taking them with it. He quickly scampered a few steps back, turning his side to the boy as if he was afraid he's take the food back.
That was exactly what H needed.
Judging by the scratches around the rope, Sharpshot must have tried to claw it off when his fire didn't reach it. Luckily, the knot didn't seem too complex.
While the Terror was busying himself with the jerky, H reached over and managed to quickly untie the knot and pull the rope off. Sharpshot devoured the rest of the jerky in one gulp and jumped back in surprise, looking between H and the fallen ropes in wonder.
"See?" H said so quietly he was almost mouthing it. "I'm a friend."
Sharpshot cocked his head and slowly approached him again. H equally slowly stretched out his hand, letting the dragon come to him.
"Well, I'll be..." a voice said seconds before they could make contact. H only then remembered that Johann was still watching, and quickly withdrew his hand.
But the damage was already done.
Noticing his change, Sharpshot was quick to place himself between him and Johann, flaring his newly freed wings to make himself appear larger.
"Oh, don't make me laugh," Johann scoffed and raised the cage again. Sharpshot shrank back with a whine at the sight of it. "Back in the cage now, dragon. Or don't. A Terror rug is worth just as much value as a live dragon."
Sharpshot backed up even more, wings once again pressed against his sides. H looked between the dragon and the approaching merchant, and made a decision.
Using strength he gathered from Thor-knows where, he launched himself at Johann's leg, successfully knocking him down.
"Go! Get out of here!" he whisper-shouted to Sharpshot over Johann's surprised yell and the sound of his fall.
Sharpshot hesitated for a moment, but then clumsily took off, barely avoiding Johann's grab for him, and disappeared down the cargo hold towards freedom.
"Njörðr's condemnation! That beast could have gone for a good twenty gold!" Johann cursed as he struggled back to his feet.
Knowing he wouldn't be ignored for long, H searched desperately around for something that could help him escape as well. He noticed the box he and the other riders picked their weapons from placed on a nearby crate and tried to reach it, but his movements were so slow and uncoordinated that he instead knocked it over.
Johann had by then gotten up again and was dusting himself off with a scowl. His eyes flickered between H, the spilled weapons, and the direction Sharpshot escaped through.
After a moment, he schooled his featured back into a practiced smile.
"Well well. There really is something special about you, isn't there?" he said in a tone so cold it made H shiver. "But don't you worry. We will have plenty of time to figure exactly what I can sell you for before we reach the Northern Markets. I'd hope for your sake it covers the price of the dragon you just cost me."
He reached into his belt and pulled out a small flask. H didn't know what was inside, but he guessed it was the same concoction Johann used to knock him out the first time.
"This mixture is quite expensive, you know, but better safe than broke, my mamma always said," Johann said as he knelt down to him. "Now don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. Drink up and nap a little while I go sweet-talk that pigheaded chief of yours."
H sneered and tried to pull himself as far away from Johann as possible, but his hands could barely support him. Johann sighed and uncorked the flask.
"Feisty, aren't you? Just like all Berkians; so intent to waste my precious time and mon--"
Without as much as a warning sound, the meticulously stacked pile of boxes next to Johann collapsed, burying the merchant beneath it before he could even scream. The flask fell out of his hand, its contents spilling all over the floorboards, and H quickly scooted away from the puddle.
Judging by the heavy thuds the boxes made, Johann wouldn't be getting up for a while.
Once the dust settled -- and there was a surprising amount of it -- two small figures emerged from among the boxes. H beamed when he recognised A and S.
"Guys! You found-- Oof!"
He groaned when A tackle-hugged him with enough force that she would have knocked him over if he weren't already sitting.
"Dummy," she mumbled shakily in his ear when he hugged back.
"Honestly, Chief, by now I'm starting to think you get kidnapped on purpose to make yourself more interesting," S joked, but the concern in his eyes as he tightly grasped H's shoulder was unmistakable.
H snorted, shaking his head. "Oh, if only. As unbelievable as it sounds, getting dragged off in the middle of the night by our long-dead enemies isn't one of my hobbies."
"Right, which is why we have to add extra security every time you arrive to Alliance meetings," S drawled.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," H mumbled, groaning as he tried to get up. "H-how did you find me?"
"I managed to track you down to the harbour but we lost the trail there. We didn't know for sure Johann took you, but luckily we saw that Terror you sent out. Good thinking on that, by the way," A said.
H grimaced.
"Well, that wasn't exactly what I did, but hey, every mistake is an opportunity, or whatever it is Johann said. Did he get anyone else? Where are the others?"
"Everyone's fine. The others are keeping guard outside. No one's noticed us so far and we'd like to keep it that way," S said, jabbing a thumb behind him. "Speaking of which, we need to go. That rat Johann won't stay out for long, and the sun comes up soon."
"Right. But, uh... you two might need to help me a little. Whatever Johann drugged me with is taking its time to wear off," H chuckled nervously, jerking his foot weakly.
"He did what?!" A growled, whirling around to where Johann's limbs were sticking out from underneath the pile of boxes.
"Whatever you're thinking of doing, I'm ordering you not to do it," H said quickly, grabbing her hand just in case.
A turned to him, but instead of asking when ordering her to do anything helped, she... pouted.
"Just a finger or two? Please? He deserves it, and he doesn't need all his fingers to betray us -- which he does, in case you've forgotten."
H blinked, completely stunned. A pouting Astrid. If he ever needed proof their mental state was affected too, this was it.
"Tempting, but no. We can't be taking chances. Enough has already gone wrong as is."
A groaned but gave in, and H didn't miss S mirroring her disappointment.
Together, the two helped him up and half-led, half-dragged him to the ladder leading out of the cargo hold. The moment they stepped outside, F and the twins melted out of the darkness. By the looks of them, they were ready to pounce at even the smallest movement.
"You got him? Good. Now give us five minutes and some Monstrous Nightmare gel, and we'll make it look like an accident," T said, rubbing his hands.
H sighed, using it to hide the smile creeping on his face. "We didn't kill Johann, T, and we're not going to. What I said before stands. Now come on, we need to go before anyone sees us. With a little bit of luck, Johann will wake up tomorrow thinking this was all a dream and it'll be like this whole thing never happened."
If he had waited a little longer, perhaps he would have recognised the mischievous smiles on the twins' faces and stopped what happened next. Or perhaps he did recognise them and his somewhat de-aged brain simply decided that Johann deserved some payback, preserving the timeline be damned.
Astrid marched across the docks at an even pace, her footsteps creating a thudding rhythm against the wooden pier.
Something would happen tonight, she could feel it. There were shadows at the docks that were never there before, always slithering away just when she was about to lunge at them, and the smell of danger was in the air. Her eyes kept finding Johann's ship, bobbing gently up and down where it was docked. She saw the merchant boarding it less than an hour ago, which was strange considering how close to dawn it was, but she figured he'd just been drinking in the Great Hall.
The children bought weapons from the merchant, and by how they handled them, she could tell it wasn't the first time they were holding such tools. They were also acting suspicious while on the ship, as if they were expecting to run into an enemy.
Could it be that their sorcery didn't work on outsiders? Could she perhaps find another ally in Johann?
Then again, how much use would a cowardly merchant with a seemingly endless arsenal of annoying stories be? Although that kind of kept up the theme with her current allies, what with the constantly aloof twins, Snotlout's absolute lack of brains, and Fishlegs, who was good for little more than spewing useless statistics.
And then there was Hiccup.
Even just thinking of him infuriated her -- suddenly getting good, thinking he could just swoop in and take everything she'd been working so hard for. In a way, he was just as bad as the children, wooing everyone with false pretences.
She hated him! Hated his inexplicable talent. Hated the way everyone praised him and his skills. How nice it must be, to be free from the pressures to prove himself every step of the way, to have his father smile at him without making him wondering how to wipe away the disgrace on their family name, while she... she...
It was a minuscule change, a shift in the air and the sounds around her, but Astrid still noticed it. She tightened her stance mere seconds before a wave of hot air slammed into her back, knocking her to her knees. She instinctively tucked into a roll and spun around at the same time, landing in a crouch with her axe at the ready.
The mast of Johann's ship was engulfed by towering flames, rising high towards the starry sky.
Astrid was so surprised by how quickly and suddenly it appeared that it took her a moment to realise the most likely reason a ship would suddenly catch fire.
"Dragon attack! Fire at the docks!" came a cry from the watchtower, voicing her thoughts.
Astrid knew her duty, and her feet were already carrying her to the nearest water station to start putting out the fire, but her eyes were trained on the sky, watching for any sign of a scaly beast descending near her.
But even though the sky was clear, she could see none.
Soon enough, the docks were swarming with people. There weren't any other fires in the village yet, so everyone set their efforts on saving Johann's ship and preparing defences. Stoick himself went inside the ship and emerged just a minute later with a dazed Johann, mumbling something about tiny demons, over his shoulder.
When the fire was fully extinguished and there was still no proper attack to speak of, everyone's adrenaline was slowly replaced with confusion.
"As far as attacks go, this is a pretty tame one," Gobber remarked, scratching his chin with the empty socket of his hook.
Through the agreeing and confused murmurs, someone shouted, "It must be the Blessings! They protected our village!"
As this assumption was repeated through the crowd and the cheering started, Astrid growled and slunk away into the shadows.
She knew what she saw. The sky was clear and the stars bright, aided by the glow of the full moon. There wasn't a single dragon above the village, much less an attacking one.
And she had a pretty good guess on who actually set the fire.
Come morning, the riders sat atop the cliff above the harbour, watching as Johann's still smouldering ship sailed away towards the horizon. The crowd below them was starting to disperse, the Vikings going to find a new source of entertainment. Soon, the riders would undoubtedly once again be swarmed by them.
"I thought I told you not to lay any traps," H said lazily towards the twins, but couldn't even make himself sound genuinely displeased.
"Oh please, that wasn't a trap. That was just a small farewell gift," T said, waving his hand.
"Yeah, trust you me, H, if we wanted to leave Johann traps, it would do more than just a little fire. Much more," R added.
H sighed, but didn't comment on it. He engaged them in future Berk's defences enough to know they were telling the truth. If their true mayhem was ever unleashed, their cover would almost certainly be blown.
Scooting closer to him, A asked for what felt like the twentieth time, "Are you sure you're okay? We could figure out a way to get Gothi to check on you, make sure that drug didn't leave any damage."
H shook his head. "I'm really fine, A, just a little numb. Really, I'm more worried about everything that's happened. We said we wouldn't change anything, but things are happening entirely out of our control. We got lucky today, but how long will that luck last?"
"Yeah, not even Berk is completely safe for us," F said sadly. "We had to sneak past Astrid to get to you, H, and my younger self almost caught us before that in the village. They're hunting for us, and if I know little us, it won't take them long to find the truth. Especially when some of us are worse at sneaking around than others."
S groaned, throwing his hands up. "Well how was I supposed to know they'd be out that late? Seriously, didn't we still have curfew at this age?"
A raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, no we didn't... Wait, did you?"
S stared at her for a bit before his face turned bright red.
"Mom lied to me! How could she?!"
"Parents. Always lying to us," R said, shaking his head in mock disappointment, "But at least you know now, dear Snotman. Realising our parents aren't perfect is one of the first steps to adulthood."
"Don't you fret, friend! We shall tell you all the secrets your parents have been keeping from you," T joined in, slinking an arm over S's shoulder.
H chuckled at his cousin's mortified face.
"Why don't you wait for when we're back in our time to do that?" He clapped S on the shoulder and then stood up to face all of them. "You guys are right. We won't just sit around waiting for a solution to fall into our laps anymore. We'll find our own way home. But first, we need to make sure we have a way out of here in case anything like this happens again."
He glanced beyond the village and felt a pang of loneliness when he saw the shadow of a Night Fury descending into the forest, the small lump that was the rider pressed close to its back.
"We need to train a dragon."
Toothless was woken up by the loud splashing of water deep below the ledge he and his flock were sleeping on. Tumbling (highly graciously, of course) off the stalactite he'd been hanging from, he hurried to the edge and saw a great white dragon emerge from the pool below.
The Bewilderbeast pulled the front half of his body out of the pool and started licking a long cut on his left foreleg. At the same time, a small flock of dragons filtered in through the various hidden passages, each finding a perch around the large cavern and similarly taking care of their own wounds.
Toothless stood up to his full height.
Finally, after two days, the King of Dragons had returned. The great Alpha was away since before Toothless and his flock arrived, and the fruitless waiting irritated Toothless to no end, but now it was finally time.
Hissing to his half-awake flock to stand guard, Toothless spread his wings and clumsily glided down to the ledge where he and Hiccup first met the Alpha. To his delight, he landed softly and without stumbling, and after quickly checking his scales for any blemishes, he gracefully coiled his tail around himself and partially spread his wings for a properly dignified pose.
From up close, one thing was clear -- the King of Dragons no impostor. His Scent, his Presence, even the low rumble of his Voice were unmistakable. It completely defied the life-death-balance, but all that Toothless cared about was that he could finally get help in finding Hiccup.
He waited several minutes for the King to notice him before he finally remembered that he no longer had his own Scent or Presence.
Increasingly irritated, he let out a short roar, and was pleased to find his Voice was still his.
The King of Dragons stopped cleaning his wound and looked up, pupils narrowing. Toothless took care not to put any challenge into his roar, but the undetected presence of another Alpha in his nest still understandably unnerved the King.
The rest of the Sanctuary quieted and Toothless could feel hundreds of eyes turn to him from the shadows. If the King ordered it, they would tear him to pieces without hesitation, and Valka wasn't here to protect him -- not that she could if it came to it.
Toothless raised his head higher as the larger Alpha fully stood out of the pool, and with just two steps came to tower over him. A gust of icy air brushed past him as the King took in his scent.
Like most ancient dragons, the King took his time to think and didn't speak much, but his surprise and the questions born from it were clearly written in his eyes.
Who are you? What are you?
Swallowing his unease, Toothless did his best to explain, chaining together short shrieks of 'Home' and 'Flock' to 'Hunter', 'Fight' and finally 'Lost.'
When he put together 'Human' and 'Flockmate' to try and explain their human-halves, a ripple of unrest washed over the gathered dragons. The King's pupils narrowed further and his tail hit against the surface of the pool, sending up a geyser of icy droplets, but he let Toothless continue.
When Toothless finished explaining himself as best as he could, he finished with a single, desperate 'Help.'
The King stayed unmoving for a long time, simply watching Toothless as he pondered the request. Toothless wanted to roar at him to hurry, that every wasted second put Hiccup in more danger, but he kept his mouth shut and just watched the dragons around him for any sudden moves.
Finally, the King moved, leaning closer to Toothless, and the deep rumble of his answer shook the cavern.
'No.'
Toothless froze.
'No?'
'No,' the King of Dragons repeated. 'Humans Danger. Nest Safe.'
And as much as Toothless hated that answer... he understood.
Putting the entire flock at risk for a outsider-dragon that claimed to know a friendly human wasn't something a good Alpha would do. Hiccup would do it, and Toothless would follow his human-brother, but Toothless alone wouldn't. Not many Alphas, dragon or human, would.
The King of Dragons watched Toothless's wings droop in dejection, and in a kinder tone added, 'Next Safe. Stay.' An invitation for Toothless and his flock to stay as long as they needed.
With that, the Bewilderbeast retreated back to his pool and returned to his wounds. The eyes around Toothless looked away, and the air stilled.
Toothless was torn between roaring in frustration and blasting something to pieces.
How was he going to find Hiccup now? The open seas were vast and on his smaller wings, travelling them would take much too long. He was so sure the King of Dragons would help them that now that his hope crumbled, he felt completely helpless.
That thought caused Toothless to growl and bite his own paw in defiance.
Since when in the treacherous-southern-wind was he dependant on the help of others?! Just because he suddenly looked like a hatchling didn't mean he really was one! He and his flock had taken care of themselves and their human-halves for years without some massive Alpha guarding their backs, and that wouldn't change now.
If the King of Dragons wouldn't help him... then he'd just have to find Hiccup himself, no matter how long it took him.
Filled with new resolve, Toothless spread his wings and with a single mighty flap shot into the air. The fin-that-wasn't-his responded without fail, letting him soar nearly vertically towards the top of the cavern and the ledge with his waiting flock.
A wave of adrenaline shot through him as the Night Fury's shriek unraveled around him, loud and piercing.
Just let his enemies hear. Anyone that wanted to harm his human-brother should know of the fury that would follow.
Notes:
Got some misconceptions about Hiccup from Astrid, the other teens wavering, the riders finally making a plan, and Toothless just about to make Valka's life a living Hel. So many opened plot threads. So many chapter to go. What have I done?
See ya in the next one
Chapter 8: The Hunters and The Hunted (and the Actual Hunters Scheming in the Background)
Summary:
The riders search for a dragon to train but end up finding something slightly different, while the drawn-out chase drives a wedge between their younger selves. On a faraway ship, a hunter finds his next hunt.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was a cold, damp morning, although still one of the warmer ones that season, and Berk was only just waking up. Birds were starting their morning songs as the first rays of sunlight broke the fog. Night guards dragged themselves to bed, receiving a few pats on the back from those starting morning patrols. Berkians were slowly getting to their morning chores, while the lazier ones were still fast asleep in their beds.
And at the edge of the village, a row of small shadows was darting from house to house, careful to avoid any attention.
A peeked around the corner and looked up and down the empty street before giving the all-clear. Her friends ran past her and scurried behind Mulch's house just as the sound of footsteps reached them. A barely managed to leap into cover before two Vikings came into view, clearly searching for something.
Once they passed their hiding spot and disappeared from view again, the riders heaved a collective sigh of relief.
Almost a week had passed since they arrived on Berk, but the Berkians' craze over them hadn't lessened. When the twins setting Johann's ship on fire, they unintentionally helped solidify their image as some supernatural protectors, since people now thought they stopped a raid without there even being one. As such, they literally couldn't go a minute without at least a dozen Vikings on their tail. If someone saw them after they got up in the morning, they were guaranteed to have eyes on them until they went back to sleep.
To make matters worse, Stoick went out of his way to keep them in his sight. H suspected that despite what he told his people, his father didn't quite trust them. He didn't keep his position as chief by being completely dull, after all.
But their biggest worry was someone else. Or rather, six someones.
"Are they still following us?" H whispered towards A as she was checking the next stretch.
A pulled herself up a little higher and looked back the way they came. At first, it looked perfectly empty, but then she caught a glimpse of a blond braid next to the house they were hiding behind a moment ago.
"Like a Nadder on a trail of chicken," she whispered back. "I'd be proud of myself if I wasn't so annoying."
S groaned quietly. "Ugh, seriously, can't little us give us a break? Finding a trainable dragon on this heap of rock is already hard enough without them constantly shadowing us. What are they even expecting to find after all this time?"
"Anything to expose us to the rest of the village, and I imagine that seeing us train a dragon would be more than enough for that," H muttered, looking around. "We have to shake them before someone finds us, or we'll lose another day. Split up, pick a route, make it as tricky to follow as possible, and we'll meet up by the rock in the middle of the large bilberry field near the Cove. We've evaded dragon hunters before, I'll be damned if we can't shake our younger selves."
Astrid hurled her axe into a tree in frustration.
They got away from her again. Why was it so hard to track down a bunch of kids?! They should be leaving traces left and right, not disappear without leaving as much as a single footprint! It should be easy for someone like her to find them! She tracked wolves for training, for Thor's sake, so WHY?
'No, they aren't normal,' she reminded herself, tearing the axe from the tree. 'Tracking them is nowhere near tracking a mere wolf. They are disguised dragons, shapeshifters, Lycanwings, and servants of Loki. I was lucky to even see through their tricks.'
"Uh... everything okay, Ast--"
"No, it's not!" She whirled on Hiccup, making him and the other four teens following her flinch. "A week! We've been doing this for a week and we've found nothing! If you lot would at least do something instead of just following me around like a bunch of wide-eyed puppies--"
"But that's what you told us to do!" Ruffnut shot back, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm starting to think you don't appreciate our work ethic, Astrid."
"Th-the sun's almost above the eastern watchtower, you guys. We need to go if we don't want to be late for dragon training," Fishlegs said shakily before Astrid could start yelling again.
Astrid had to fight the strong urge to throw her axe into another tree (or possibly a Viking).
"Dragon training?! We have enemies walking around our village, being worshiped like saint, and you care about dragon training? Gobber can set up the final trial with everyone watching for all I care! We're not leaving here until we find those kids!"
Snotlout suppressed a yawn. "I dunno, Astrid. We've been chasing after shadows for days now and found nothing. If you ask me, the Blessings are probably still sleeping at Hiccup's, or the Chief's taken them on one of his trips aga--"
"Do not call them that!" Astrid growled, pointing her axe at Snotlout threateningly. "They are no blessings, they're-"
"Demons, we know." Ruffnut said exasperatedly, seemingly uncaring of the axe that now turned to her. "But aren't you forgetting something? There's been no more dragon raids since they arrived, and while we do mourn the lack of destruction, it does give our own mayhem more chance to shine."
"Face the facts, miss perfect. You were wrong," Tuffnut added, unaware how close that sentence got him to Valhalla's gates. "All that weird stuff around their arrival, that was probably just Odin's wacky way of letting us know they're important."
With a hesitant nod, Fishlegs said, "They're right, Astrid. Sorry, but... dragon training is back on, and I'm already falling behind on my eighth reading of the Book of Dragons. I... I don't we can... I can do this anymore. It's time to stop."
Astrid turned to stare at him, mouth slightly open. Her eyes were strangely blank, as if she couldn't decide whether what she was hearing was real.
"Yeah, we'll have to dip too. As fun as sneaking around all day is, it's cutting way into our Loki Day planning time," Tuffnut said, Ruffnut nodding along.
All eyes turned to Snotlout, who was idly picking his ear.
"Oh, me? Well, uh, I'm gonna to be honest, this is really taking away from my self-care time -- you couldn't tell, I know, I'm just that good-looking by nature. So, yeah, as much as they don't deserve it, I'm with those guys. But if you find something heavy you need lifting, or need a dashing rescuer, Astrid, you just give me a call, and I'll be right by your side."
His smug smile and extended hand were the last straw.
Astrid exploded.
"Fine!" she yelled. "Leave! Leave, all of you! Go back to your cozy little lives while those demons tear the village apart from the inside! But when I drag them to the Chief and earn honour for my clan, don't you dare bring your miserable selves to me looking for scraps!"
"Geez, someone needs a nap," Ruffnut scoffed, backing away from the fuming Hofferson.
"For real. I'm almost starting to miss Gobber's ugly mug," Tuffnut agreed.
Fishlegs sighed and turned back to the village. "Come on, guys. At least some of us shouldn't be late for training."
Astrid watched them walk away, her anger mixing with disbelief.
'They're going to turn back, right? This mission is too important. They have to realise that. They'll turn back...'
But as their silhouettes grew more and more distant, she had to accept they wouldn't.
She was left alone. Again.
"You didn't have to be so mean to them."
Astrid whirled around, snarling to hide the surprise she felt at finding Hiccup still standing there.
"What did you say?!" she snapped at the boy, who took a step back, raising his hands.
"Uh, n-nothing! Just that, you know, they're doing their best, b-but getting no results is frustrating for them too."
"I am not frustrated!"
"Uh-huh," Hiccup hummed, glancing at the deep gash in the tree, already leaking a generous amount of sap. "Either way, you should think about what they said. We haven't been making much progress, and you know it's not because we haven't been helping you."
Astrid gripped her axe tighter, but couldn't find it within herself to yell again. However much she hated to admit it, this fruitless game of cat and mouse was tiring her out as well.
She glanced back towards the arena and the shrinking figures of the other teens.
'Traitors.'
But they were right about one thing, and that was that dragon training was about to start soon. If they were late, Gobber would alert the Chief, who could realise what they were doing and try to stop them.
She forced herself to breathe calmly and nodded.
"You're... right," she hissed, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. "It could take weeks to catch them like this, and who knows what they would do in that time. We need a different plan. A trap, or... something like a trap."
Hiccup chuckled.
"And what exactly would this 'like a trap' be?" he asked before he could think better of it, and was yet again subjected to Astrid's glare.
"I don't know! You're the smart one, aren't contraptions like this what you're good at? It should be easy for you to figure something out."
Astrid didn't fully realise what she said until she noticed Hiccup's dumbfounded expression. Her cheeks flushed red, and she quickly spun around and swept Hiccup's legs from under him. The boy fell to the ground with a squawk and nearly bit through his tongue, but it did little to help Astrid calm her raging thoughts.
"Stop fooling around and focus!" she growled, hiding her embarrassed blush behind her hair. "We have to get to training before someone notices we're missing, but we're getting back to the search the moment it's finished. Try to figure something out by then, got it?"
"Uh, y-yeah, right. Got it," Hiccup stammered.
Astrid nodded resolutely and then marched off towards the arena as quickly as she could without looking like she was running.
What the Hel was wrong with her? Hiccup was still her biggest competition in training and his mysterious improvements remained unexplained! From the start, she only took him along because he had the best chance to find out something about the children since they lived with him. He was a fishbone, the village runt, by all means pretty much useless!
So why did he stay with her?
And why was she so relieved that he did?
...
Just like on their first day, the trainees were lined up in front of the reinforced doors, with Gobber pacing up front. The stands were nearly empty, and draconic growls echoed from the six pens.
The trainees' expressions, on the other hand, were quite different from their first class. Gone was the excitement and wonder and the slight hints of fear. The twins looked bored, Fishlegs avoided looking at anyone but Gobber, Snotlout was grumbling to himself, and Hiccup was carefully not showing any emotion. Astrid was standing a couple steps away from the others, glowering at them every now and again, though her glares noticeably avoided Hiccup.
It was obvious that something had happened between them, but Gobber knew better than to comment on it.
"Right then!" He clapped his hands, getting their attention. "Welcome to dragon training. Again. As ye may remember, yer last trial got interrupted by the arrival of the Blessings, and since then, we've had to make some... unexpected renovations."
Hiccup glared up at the brand new chain dome that was glinting in the sunlight. He had a personal vendetta against that thing -- between his secret outings with the other teens and his visits to Toothless, helping Gobber forge those chains took up any remaining free time he had the past week.
"Now, as per tradition, since the final trial wasn't completed by any of ye within a week of it first happening, it's mandatory fer everyone to redo all of to trials in--"
He was cut off by annoyed groans from all the trainees, except Hiccup, who had to hold back a cheer.
"Oy, I didn't make the rules and I don't want to be here any more than ye lot!" Gobber interrupted their starting accusations. "Personally, I think yer training books are due fer their own renovation, but until that happens, this is how it's going to be, so quit whining!"
"Like Hel! It's not our fault those kids chose our final trial to crash here and destroy the arena!" Snotlout growled, marching up to Gobber. "I mean, it's not like I even needed those pathetic trials in the first place, but a second time? I'm not going to waste any more of my precious time fighting these overfed lizards when there's a whole nest out there with my name on it!"
That made Gobber bristle, and he stepped forward so he could fully tower over the boy.
"Oh? And what makes ye think yer so much better than everyone else, Snotlout?" he drawled.
Clearly not understanding he was on dangerous ground, Snotlout only grew redder in the face and tried in vain to make himself look taller by standing on his tiptoes.
"Um, hello? I'm a Jorgenson! We have to kill a bear when we're nine months old. These muttonheads might need more training, but I was born a dragon slayer! If those stupid kids didn't appear in front of that stupid Gronckle, I could have gutted that stupid Nightmare a week ago and be out there right now kicking the dragons' stupid scaly butts! This is stupid."
Gobber folded his arms over his chest as the boy continued his tantrum. He very much resembled a dormant storm cloud, just getting to start thundering.
Hiccup knew this scenario by heart; Snotlout would continue to complain, for several hours at worst, and would in the end get shot -- and potentially smacked -- down by Gobber and be angry about it for the rest of the day. All it would accomplish would be prolonging Hiccup's time away from Toothless. At least now that Snotlout somewhat respected him, he might not take his frustration out on him, but that would only make it worse in the long run, because he wouldn't have a quick way to fix his bruised ego.
That gave Hiccup an idea.
When Snotlout was taking a breath between two shouts, Hiccup jumped in.
"Uh, Snotlout, I think what Gobber is trying to say is that the rest of the village didn't get to see your awesome dragon-fighting skills in action because of their search for the Nest. So, naturally, they're restarting the trials to give everyone a chance to see you. I mean, let's be honest--" He leaned in and lowered his voice a little, successfully drawing the Jorgenson in. "--some of our warriors aren't exactly what they used to be, if you know what I mean, and I'm sure they'd all appreciate the chance to see the great Snotlout Jorgenson in action."
Snotlout gave Hiccup a thoughtful glance and then looked up to the few Vikings gathered on the stands. After a bit of musing, he raised his chin and turned back to Hiccup with the look of someone who has been elevated to the highest standing.
"Hmm, I am the best, aren't I? Well, I guess I can bless some of you inferior warriors with a bit of the coveted Jorgenson wisdom. Of course, you all have to compensate me with the appropriate amount of gold and food afterwards. Except you, Astrid, for you it's free. Unless you want to thank me with a kiss?"
He extended his hands towards the shield-maiden, puckering his lips. He only escaped imminent death thanks to Gobber, who gripped his shoulder with his good hand hard enough to make the boy wince.
"Well then, why don't ye take the front, Snotlout? I'm sure the Nadder is itchin' for a taste of Jorgenson wisdom."
As the gleeful Gobber dragged the rapidly paling boy closer to the reinforced gate, the other teens turned to Hiccup.
"Wow, Hiccup. First dragons and now Snotlout? What are you going to tame next, your dad?" Tuffnut joked, punching Hiccup in the shoulder. Hiccup laughed nervously, rubbing the sore appendage.
"Ha ha, yeah, I don't think so. Snotlout isn't really the sharpest arrow in the quiver, but my dad..."
He squirmed under their gazes, wishing he had Toothless next to him.
Behind Tuffnut, he saw Gobber just about to reach for the lever of the Nadder's cave and quickly said, "Oh, look! It's about to start! We should probably watch. Don't want any of that 'Jorgenson wisdom' to go to waste, right?"
The twins laughed, Fishlegs hesitantly joining them.
"Oh yeah, I hope he finally looses an arm or something! This training could really use some more blood," Ruffnut cackled.
With their attention redirected to the opening gate, Hiccup moved backwards, hoping to avoid any more conversation for the rest of the training.
His hopes shattered when he bumped into something -- or rather, someone.
"He-hey Astrid. Sorry, I have a plan for later, so--"
"How did you do that?" the girl asked sharply.
Hiccup gulped. "Do... that? Do what?"
Astrid's eyebrow twitched.
"Don't play dumb with me, Hiccup. Everyone in this village knows you're no good at talking your way out of trouble, especially with Snotlout. You expect me to believe you're just suddenly able to shut him up in thirty seconds? Not even his mother can do that."
She continued glaring, and Hiccup suddenly felt incredibly small and exposed. That strange warm feeling that he felt that morning when the two of them were alone was snuffed out under her icy glare.
"It... it was just luck, Astrid. Snotlout is easier to read than a children's picture book, it's not that hard to figure out how to get to him."
Astrid jabbed a finger into his chest, making him wince.
"So why didn't you do it sooner? All those years you just let him walk all over you, and now out of nowhere you have the courage to speak up during his tantrums? I'd sooner eat my axe than believe that."
Hiccup grimaced. He couldn't really tell her that staring down the maw of a Night Fury and flying above the clouds with a single piece of thin rope for security gave a person new perspective on squabbles with family members.
When he didn't answer, Astrid growled and her finger dug deeper.
"You know what? Tuffnut is right. First dragon training, now Snotlout; It's like you're a whole different person. Something or someone is changing you." She stepped even closer and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him so close their foreheads were nearly touching. "What are you hiding, Hiccup Haddock?"
Hiccup's eyes flitted around, trying to avoid Astrid's as if she would somehow see the entire truth about Toothless in them. His mind was scrambled, his current proximity to the girl he'd been in love with since he knew what the word meant making it hard to think. He could smell her scent, a light mix of pine needles and sea salt, and it drowned him in memories of all the times he was wistfully watching her and the other teens participating in raids, imagining himself as one of them.
Desperate for a way out, he zeroed in on the first thing beside Astrid he could see.
"Nadder!"
Astrid dropped him and spun around, axe at the ready. She expected to see the dragon charging at her, but it had barely poked its head out of the gate and was much more interested in Snotlout than her.
Looking back, she found Hiccup already at the other end of the arena near the shield racks.
"Get back here, you--" she yelled, fully intending to go after him, but instead she had to jump out of the way when the Nadder barreled past the screaming Snotlout and actually charged her.
"Don't think we're done here, Haddock!" she shouted in his general direction while blocking the Nadder's tail with her axe.
And Hiccup suddenly felt like one of the caged dragons, trapped and kept alive on a whim that could change at any moment.
Having successfully shaken off their pursuers, the riders regrouped less than an hour after splitting up. A arrived last and told everyone about the conversation she overheard between their past selves, making the twins and S snicker quite a bit at the awkwardness of Hiccup and Astrid's budding relationship.
"This is good. Fewer of them hunting us means we'll be better able to avoid them," H said after hearing the story.
"But what if this changes the future? In the past, we never had an outright falling-out like this. What if we become worse as a team, or what if some of us never become dragon riders to begin with?" F asked worriedly.
The thought of something like that changing wasn't a pleasant one for any of them.
"We'll try to find a way to fix this before we leave, but right now, we need to focus on finding a trainable dragon. We probably have only a couple hours before my dad comes looking for us" H said.
"Oh lighten up, H!" T threw his hand around H's shoulder with abandon. "Trust the experts on mischief; the first rule of sneaking out is that you don't worry about the consequences before they happen."
"I really don't think this count as normal sneaking out," H said dryly.
"Oh, leave them be, love," A said with a smile. "We've been on edge all week. We deserve some time to unwind. Besides, aren't you the one that always says things get done faster when you make them fun?"
Hearing that, F clapped his hands happily. "Oh, yes, a game! We should play a game! There's this new one I've seen kids on our Berk play. I think it's called label, or sticker, or something like that."
"In that case... Sticker! You're it!" R yelled and punched her brother in the shoulder before running off giggling.
"Don't forget we're still looking for dragons!" H called as all his friends took off running. But the pull of the game was too strong, and he couldn't help but run after them, a grin already forming on his face.
Soon enough, all of them were running around, tagging each other and laughing carelessly, for once forgetting about the danger they were in. From time to time, one of them would call out something that looked like a dragon, but they all turned out to be false alarms or traps to lure them to the tagger.
H fell for one such trap by A, but spotted her just in time to bolt away before she could catch him.
"Hah, you'll have to do better than that! Didn't your younger self admit traps are my thing?" he called back at her, laughing as she chased him through the trees.
A responded by putting on a sudden burst of speed and shoving him through a bush, passing the tag to him. H tumbled through the foliage and landed face-first on the other side, giggling like a madman. Even after all this time, he still wasn't entirely used to his current body's mismatched proportions, and for some reason, that felt incredibly funny to him at the moment.
He started getting up, still snickering to himself and already planning his revenge, but then froze.
He was looking straight into a dragon's maw, full of razor-sharp teeth and the building glow of fire.
The other riders were still scattered when they heard their chief's startled yell, which immediately snapped them out of their playful mood. They ran towards the sound and tumbled through the same bush H had in a ball of limbs and half-drawn weapons, shouting and shoving each other to find the threat.
Once they finally untangled themselves and got ready for a fight, they saw H being viciously assaulted by... a green Terrible Terror that was climbing all over the boy, licking his face, nibbling at his ears, and purring up a storm.
"Looks like the great dragon conqueror finally met his match," T remarked as they watched H struggle to get the small dragon off his face.
"Yes, yes, very funny, now could you please get him off?! Ow! Sharpshot, stop! That's my nose! What are you even still doing here? I thought you'd go back to Dragon Island after you escaped Johann."
"You train a dragon in two minutes while being kidnapped, and you're surprised people call you the dragon whisperer?" S snorted as he finally took pity and went to rescue his cousin.
"Oh, stop it with the whisperer stuff already! I get enough of that from the hordes back home." H groaned.
"Hordes... w-wait a minute! Terrible Terrors are pack dragons! They don't stay anywhere alone willingly," F exclaimed, a smile forming on his face.
"Yeah, so what?"
"So if Sharpshot stayed here even after escaping from the arena..."
F slowly circled the clearing they were on, searching the bushes and trees while making short whistles and clicks. At first there was no answer, but when he pushed aside some foliage beneath a young pine tree, he was bowled over by a gaggle of small, multi-coloured dragons that promptly joined Sharpshot in assaulting H.
"...then we may have just found our way out of here!" A finished F's earlier sentence excitedly.
T immediately shook his head and started backing away.
"Nope. Nuh-uh. No. Way. I am not riding one of those nose-eating monsters. I'm telling you, they have some sort of kill order on my--"
Before he could finish the sentence, he was tackled by the flock that had apparently decided he was more worth eating playing with than H.
Absolute chaos erupted as T started rolling around, trying to get the dragons off, while A and H rushed to help him -- thought they were more worried about him hurting the dragons than the other way around -- and R and S cheered them on.
In the confusion of the situation, F was the only one to notice they weren't alone anymore.
"Uh... g-guys?"
"I'll take flying on small dragons over getting gutted by angry dragon-killing Vikings any day, Tuff, thank you very much," S said in a dry tone as T slowly succumbed to the Terrors.
"Guys, t-there's--"
"I am hurt, I am very much hurt!"
"Would you guys look--"
"Sorry, bro, I'm with Snotman on this," R said, sidestepping T's desperate grab for her leg.
"GUYS, GOTHI'S HERE!"
F's shriek finally got everyone's attention, and even the dragons stopped their assault. The group looked at the Ingerman, now pale as snow, and then to where he was shakily pointing.
Gothi was standing at the edge of the clearing, leaning on her cane, a basket stuffed with herbs in hand, and a knowing smirk on her face as she watched the fabled dragon-repelling Blessings of her village play around with their supposed enemies.
At that moment, the riders felt like there was no one more dangerous to them in the entirety of the Archipelago.
Far outside the Viking seas, in the cabin of a ship in the middle of an imposing fleet, surrounded by trophies of hunted dragons and conquered enemies, sat a man hunched over a game of Maces and Talons.
He didn't resemble a standard Viking; he was a bit smaller and a bit scrawnier, qualities which would normally get him killed in a tribe as ruthless as his. However, he was clever, easily outsmarting all the men he was now leading and most of those he wasn't. That alone guaranteed his survival and much, much more.
He was so clever, in fact, that he was growing bored. Building over-complicated traps for their hunts and leading dragons on wild chases in the most dangerous parts of the sea simply wasn't rewarding anymore. He wanted a challenge, someone to measure with in a true game of wits.
But where to find someone who would be able to hold their own against the greatest dragon hunter to ever live? Where to find something that would baffle someone as travelled as him?
As the man pondered this question, still overlooking the game pieces on the board, the cabin's door opened, and a second man, with facial features similar to the first, walked in, a scroll in hand.
This man looked more like a traditional Viking would, with muscles toning his body, an ever-present scowl on his face, and scars from countless fights marring his skin. He didn't understand the first, however close they may have been compared to the rest of the crew, but he recognized his genius and knew that he could benefit from it, just like the man benefited from his strength.
A mutually beneficial relationship was enough for them. Until they found something more profitable.
"Your contact sent more intel. Looks like you were right about him," the second man said, tossing the scroll on the table.
"As you should expect," the first man calmly noted, making the second scowl.
Finally tearing his eyes away from the game, the first opened the scroll and began reading.
Letters like these usually told him much more than the message they contained. They gave him insight into whoever wrote it; The way they worded their messages, what mistakes they made, at which passages their hand shook, and even the way the words tilted to one side or the other -- it all said something about the sender.
This person, however, knew how to hide his true nature, both in person and on paper. He was playing a dangerous, twisted game, but it was a game of money, not one that would interest the man.
He was just another figure on the board, fit to move as he pleased.
As he read, the man's stoic expression slowly turned into an ominous smirk. He reached out and slowly, as if to enjoy every second of it, moved one piece across the Maces and Talons board. Then he stood up and gestured for the man still standing in front of him.
"Gather the crew, brother. We sail out immediately. I believe we may have just found our next catch, and the journey is long. We must make haste lest it escapes us."
Without explaining more, he pushed past the second man and walked out the door.
His fleet sprawled before him, endless ships adorned with his very own insignia, dozens of men at his command, and twice as many weapons ready for plundering.
He smiled.
A new hunt would soon begin.
Notes:
Viggo's here! But I'm sure he won't be any trouble. Maybe he's just going for a nice fishing trip :D
Chapter 9: The First and The Last Ally
Summary:
The riders learn a surprising secret about Gothi and get the first hint of a possible way home. Meanwhile, Hiccup and Astrid start their newly solo hunt.
Notes:
Busy with RL stuff. Sorry if there's more mistakes in this one
Chapter Text
The riders stared horrified at Gothi, who was calmly smirking back at them. If her expression was anything to go by, she'd heard enough to ensure they were sent to Valhalla via express. She was currently a bit taller than all of them, which only contributed to their feeling of impending doom.
The Terrors were the first to move, sniffing the air and cautiously crawling towards the shaman, but instead of fighting them or running like the riders expected, Gothi just calmly watched them approach.
When the smell of blood and smoke reached the Terrors, and they realised she wasn't one of the riders, the entire flock started hissing and growling, flaring their wings threateningly. Before any of the riders could stop them, they launched at Gothi like a volley of arrows, small flames already shooting from their maws.
With a quick motion, faster than anything the riders thought the old woman was capable of, Gothi reached into her pouch and threw a fistful of pungent powder in their direction. Even from a distance, the riders started coughing and gagging from the strong, sweet scent. The cloud engulfed the Terrors, and one by one they slowed their flight and their flames died down before they dropped out of the air onto on a pile in front of Gothi.
H instinctively rushed over to check on them but stopped when he noticed they started purring. The powder had put them to sleep.
He turned to his friends and gave them a tiny nod. Their relief only lasted a few seconds before they once again focused on Gothi.
Despite having the chance while they were distracted, the old woman made no move to approach them or to run to the village. She just continued grinning as if she already knew everything, even as the riders slowly moved forward to surround H in a protective circle.
Unsurprisingly, it was the twins who lost their patience first.
"Do you think she heard us?" they half-whispered to each other in unison, following swiftly by a dual, "Hey, stop copying me!"
Gothi raised an eyebrow, somehow managing to look both like a dragon stalking its prey and a disappointed teacher who was just given a particularly stupid answer for their question.
With no reason left to pretend they were unable to speak, H dropped the posture of a child, opting for more diplomatic, chiefly body language instead. He had to try and salvage the situation.
"We can explain," he started, but Gothi immediately interrupted him by shaking her head and looking around.
She looked almost... afraid, but not of them or the dragons.
She started shuffling towards them while waving her staff, and the riders tensed in preparation. Gothi stopped just short of the pile of sleeping Terrors, looking down at the dragons with an expression that H couldn't quite decipher. Then she looked each of the riders in the eye, holding their gazes until they had to look away. It felt like she was looking right into their souls.
When even A had to break eye contact, Gothi nodded to herself.
And then, to the riders' astonishment, she started picking the Terrors up one by one and piling them up on her shoulders, the centuries-old hatred for dragons that all Berkians shared seemingly forgotten. Once done, she gestured for them to follow and wandered away through the underbrush.
The riders stared after her, absolutely dumbfounded.
"Huh. That was weird. I vote we run for it while we have the chance," S said casually, not even bothering to try and make sense of what just happened.
"I'd second that, but she just took our best possible way off the island. I doubt my dad will just let us borrow a ship if he finds out about this, so if she's going to him, we're screwed either way," H said, nodding towards the the small tower of dragons wobbling through the trees.
"I'm not saying we should trust her," F started hesitantly, "but Gothi was one of the first to accept her own dragons after the Red Death. If anyone aside from Hiccup can accept the future right now... I think it's her."
A looked conflicted, but nodded.
"F is right. We all know we can't keep this charade up forever. If we don't leave Berk in the next day or two, we'll need someone from the village to cover for us. And Gothi is the village shaman, and basically the oldest on Berk, too. If there is a clue on how to get us back to our time here, she'd be the one to have it."
When no one else protested, H sighed.
"All right, but stick together and be ready to run."
He took off after the shaman, the other riders falling in formation behind him. They walked in silence at first, carefully keeping their distance from Gothi so that they would have at least a little head start if it turned out she was leading them into a trap. A few quiet words were exchanged between A and H, but nothing remotely close to a plan.
They hesitated when they reached the village, but Gothi didn't reveal them or herself and the Terrors -- If anything, she made it easier for them to get through undetected. Even with the still-sleeping Terrors on her back, she had no trouble staying out of sight, and the riders actually started falling behind because of their own need to stay hidden.
They finally caught up to her at the base of the stairway leading to her hut. Luckily, no one was around to see what appeared to be a mountain of Terrible Terrors on human legs slowly making its way up.
"If she starts threatening us up there, we won't have any way to escape," A said quietly as they followed after her.
"If she wanted to threaten us, she would have already done it," H countered, successfully sounding sure of the statement he was completely unsure about.
S frowned. "We don't know that. When you think about it, we don't really know anything about Gothi. The longest we've ever been with her was during that whole Snow Wraith thing, and by then, we'd already made peace with dragons. I don't even think I've ever been inside her house."
H wanted to object, but S's point was a valid one. Gothi had been the village healer for as long as anyone could remember, she took care of anyone and everyone and her cures rarely failed, but beyond that, not even he knew much about her. Before the Peace and outside her healing, she mostly kept to herself, and afterwards, she surrounded herself with Terrible Terrors and left her house even less. H remembered children saying she was magic, because over the years, she hadn't changed a bit.
When he mentioned as much, the other riders started creating outlandish theories of Gothi's origin, culminating in S's tale about a woman living in the woods, luring children into her gingerbread house to eat them. Thanks to their tales, the way up passed quickly, and all too soon they found themselves in front of Gothi's hut.
When they arrived, Gothi was just fiddling with the lock on the door. The riders grouped together, waiting for the trap to spring.
But what came out wasn't a trap, but a whole thunder of Terrible Terrors.
The flock crashed into the pile of sleeping Terrors already on Gothi, making her stumble. The wild Terrors fell to the ground like overripe apples, not even stirring from their alchemy-induced sleep.
The riders were once again dumbfounded as the new, much larger flock perched on Gothi's head and shoulders and started hissing at them, changing the shaman into the dragon-encrusted ball they all knew from their time.
"I can't believe it," F breathed softly, not wanting to agitate the Terrors more. "They're protecting her. She's... part of their flock."
And that was undeniably the truth.
Somehow, the woman who'd been officiating dragon training and the subsequent killing for years was part of the largest domesticated Terrible Terror flock they'd ever seen, one that was apparently very keen on keeping their human safe.
All at once, the riders started bombarding the shaman with question, and only stopped when Gothi slammed her staff down and pointed inside her house.
The message was clear: Don't discuss this where any idiot can overhear.
Under the watchful glares of her and her dragons, the riders dragged the sleeping Terrors inside the hut, and Gothi quickly closed the door behind them, locking and barring it.
The inside was small but cozy, made up of only one room with a fireplace in the middle. Countless chests, cabinets, and boxes, all overflowing with various ingredients, were lined up around the walls, and bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling like an inverted forest. A hammock full of pillows and blankets was suspended above a relatively large bookcase stuffed with texts in varying stages of decline, but without a single speck of dust on any of them.
Gothi's Terrors had by then mostly calmed down, figuring that if Gothi accepted the riders, they must not be a threat. Some now left the shaman's shoulders and returned to the various perches and nests that were set up all around the room, while the rest slowly approached the newcomers, clearly surprised by their strange scent.
Gothi meanwhile went over to the fireplace and readied a small pile of firewood before nudging a Terror that was napping on a blanket next to the pit and looked nearly as old as she was. The dragon opened one misty eye and looked at the riders, then lazily puffed out a cloud of sparks that set the pile ablaze, and went back to sleep.
As the warmth spread throughout the room, chasing out the chill that permanently pervaded all of Berk, Gothi sat down next to the fireplace and started sorting the herbs she brought in. When the riders didn't move from their spot by the door, she looked at them expectantly and gestured for them to sit down.
"I... I think we can ask questions now," F whispered once they all found a spot.
"Wait, weren't we supposed to keep the fact we can talk a secret?" T whispered back.
"Oh yeaaaah... Do we kill her?" R asked.
"No one is killing anyone," H interjected, making the twins groan in disappointment. He turned to Gothi, mildly frustrated at how confused he was feeling. "So... I imagine you have questions for us, and we have a lot of our own, but let's start from the top. I take it you figured out who we were from what you overheard back in the forest?"
It wasn't really a question, more of a statement to get both sides on the same page, but to everyone's surprise, Gothi shook her head.
"But then... you still don't know who we are?"
Gothi actually laughed -- soundlessly, which might have actually made it more disturbing -- and shook her head again.
Putting down the herbs, she walked over to one of the shelves and brought back a box of sand that she emptied into a neat pile next to her spot. She then grabbed her staff and started writing, still occasionally snickering to herself. H wasn't sure he ever saw her this amused, and it only made him more confused.
F scooted closer to Gothi when she was done and looked over her writing before slapping a hand over his face.
"Of course! How could I have been so stupid?" He turned to the others, looking like he very much wanted to slap himself again. "Gothi sometimes has to treat patients that can't talk, so she knows how to read lips! She understood pretty much everything we said back when she examined us in the Great Hall without needing to hear a single word. Today just confirmed her suspicions."
There was a collective "Ooooh." from the riders, and H rubbed his temple with a groan.
"That's not good. If Gothi figured out who we were so quickly without even hearing us talk, it's only a matter of time before someone else actually overhears us and puts two and two together."
Gothi shook her head once more and scribbled out another message.
"We can't be understood?" F read, his face morphing into surprise. "From the start, all you could hear when we were talking were baby noises? Even right now?"
This time, Gothi nodded.
"So I've been hiding my beautiful voice for nothing?!" S screeched, and was ignored.
A dropped her head into her hands. "Odin help us. We got discovered when no one can even understand what we're saying."
"This is so cool! It's like we have our own secret language that we didn't even have to make up!" T said, his eyes gaining a dangerous gleam.
"Yeah, think of all the possibilities! We could totally convince our younger selves their houses are haunted and get them to do anything we want!" R laughed, high-fiving her brother.
"I hate to break it to you two, but I don't think that's going to work," H said grimly. "Remember that morning before my dad told everyone we were sent by the gods? When T nearly blew our cover to my past self?" Everyone nodded except for said Thorston, who crossed his arms, looking offended. "The way Hiccup reacted... that wasn't the reaction of someone who just heard a kid make baby noises. If I had to guess, some or even all of our younger selves can understand us."
"Come to think of it, our past selves have been acting different from everyone else since we arrived. Maybe this whole thing goes beyond just talking," A mused.
"Strange. This would mean that whatever brought us back in time also made sure we would be accepted by those around us, but for some reason didn't work on our past selves. It could be something similar to how dragons recognise their own pack by smell alone. There is some fauna that can have this effect, but coupled with time travel, I don't know...maybe...hmm..." F trailed off, shaking his head helplessly.
"Speaking of dragons, I think we should address the Bewilderbeast in the room." H gestured vaguely to the Terrors surrounding them. "I was going to ask how you can be immediately okay with knowing we don't fight dragons, but I think this pretty much explains it. So how come you of all people have a flock of Terrible Terrors in your house, and how in Thor's name has my father not banished you for this yet?"
It took Gothi a few seconds to scribble out her answer, and a few more for F to decipher it.
"She says that when she took over as village shaman years ago, she was tasked with looking after the Terrors that were used for the blood with which the Chief would sign the annual peace treaties with the Berserkers. But after Stoick and Oswald forwent that tradition, it kind of spiralled out of control."
The riders looked at each other and then at Gothi, who went back to sorting the herbs, uncaring about the Terrors still using her as a perch. Both the woman and the dragons looked perfectly content with the world.
"No wonder she was so quick to snatch every Terror in the village for herself. It took ages to get any for our traps!" T pouted. "Crazy terror lady-- Ah! Not the staff! I meant cool! Super cool terror lady!"
"But, Gothi, if you knew dragons weren't dangerous, why didn't you try to stop all that killing? How can you officiate the trials when you know that the dragons being killed can be tamed?" H asked, his tone a bit more accusing that he intended.
A hint of regret passed over Gothi's expression before she answered.
"She thought that she'd only created a more docile breed of the Terrible Terror, like how some tribes managed to tame wolves. She thought that maybe something similar could be done with the other species, but with the dragons constantly attacking the village, she didn't really get a chance to explain that to an army of lifelong dragon killers dead set on destroying the Nest."
H nodded. He had similar thoughts while training Toothless.
Gothi tapped F with her staff and pointed to the last part of the writing.
"She says-- Oh wow! She says she was waiting for someone who would see the dragons as more than beasts that needed to be killed, someone who was willing to stop the fighting and had more sway over the village. And during the trials, she saw that someone in Hiccup -- well, you know, younger Hiccup. That's why she chose you to kill a dragon. She hoped you could somehow find a way to change everything."
H looked to the village elder, who suddenly seemed oh so small and tired, as if the decades of war and struggling and death suddenly caught up to her. She looked at him, and he felt the need to tell her everything that would happen and assure her that things would truly turn out all right.
But he knew this wasn't the time for that.
"Thank you for trusting me," he said softly instead. "If you hadn't done what you did, well... our future would probably look a lot different than it does. And I promise you, things will change. You won't have to hide these Terrors in your hut for much longer."
Gothi smiled slightly and nodded, some semblance of relief making its way into her expression as she reached over to pet the old Terror by the fireplace.
Watching that, something in H's brain clicked.
"That first night in the Great Hall, you tried to get my dad to let us come with you. That was because you knew who we were, right? And after that, I saw you talking to my dad multiple times, and he always brushed you off. You were trying to talk to us this whole time, weren't you?" Gothi nodded. "But why? Why put yourself and your dragons at risk to help us?"
"Because we look like a group of lambs that stumbled into a wolves' den?" S offered.
"That's surprisingly self-aware of you, Snotlout," A remarked towards the Jorgenson, who bowed in response.
"Thank you, I try."
Gothi cleared her throat and pointed to the ground. Her writing left everyone speechless for a good minute.
Because I can help you get back.
"Just to be clear," F started shakily, "by back, you mean back to our time, right? Not back to Stoick's house?"
When Gothi nodded, a wave of relief and euphoria passed over the riders. F jumped so high up he nearly hit the ceiling and let out an elated cheer, while the twins and S joined hands and started dancing in a circle. H threw his arms around A and they rocked back and forth, laughing.
"We're going home! Astrid, we're actually going home!"
"We are! I can't believe the answer was right under our noses this entire time!"
Gothi raised a finger to try and get their attention, but then decided to let them enjoy the moment for a while longer. That 'moment' took so long that the sleeping Terrors woke up and Gothi introduced them to her flock, which involved a lot of hissing and a couple bites and burns.
Finally, both the dragons and the the six children settled back down, but the latter group could barely stay still.
"So, how does this work? Do you need us to get some special plants or an ancient artifact from somewhere, or can you get us home immediately?" asked a starry-eyed F.
H winced, but hid it behind another smile. He was sort of hoping to say goodbye to his father in some way before they left, but knew quietly disappearing was for the best. They had already done enough damage as it was. Like this, there would be a momentary panic and some searches before some other new thing caught the Berkians' attention and everything would happen how it was supposed to.
Everything...
His sour mood was shattered when F read out Gothi's surprisingly short response.
"You... don't know?"
The elated looks froze on the riders' faces.
"Eh heh... I think you're contradicting yourself a little here, Gothi. What do you mean you don't know? You just said you can get us home," S asked, his voice growing increasingly desperate.
Gothi made a strange gesture and shuffled over to the far side of the room, hastily scribbling behind herself. F sighed and went after her, painstakingly deciphering the stretched-out scribbles. Over the years, he'd gotten pretty good at reading Gothi's writing, but that was when they were actually readable.
"She doesn't know how exactly to get us a wheel -- no, sorry, back in time -- she just knows there is a way. There is a brick -- oh wow that's a lousy one. Ouch! -- a book, that's been passed down from one village shaman to the... arrow? Oh, to the next. From one shaman to the next. It depicts strange occurrences Berk's healers have seen throughout the years, and remembers something about... oh, about time travel being in there too -- see, is it so hard to draw normally? Okay, okay, I'll stop! -- It's been years since she read everything though, so it might take a little while to find the correct page."
F's face scrunched up in confusion before paling considerably when he saw which book Gothi was reaching for.
With a heavy thud, a book as thick as H's torso landed on the floor in front of them.
"Every healer wrote their own entries, so she doesn't know which part of the book it's in, just that it's somewhere in the first half," F finished weakly as Gothi sat back on the ground and resumed sorting her herbs.
"Well, I'm out!" T declared immediately, laying down with his eyes closed.
"Agreed. We made a solemn vow that the day we read is the day we enter Valhalla," R explained before flopping onto her brother's stomach.
"You two can read?" A snarked, but even she was looking at the book like it was a dangerous foe.
Hesitantly, H reached forward and opened it, coughing when flakes of dried herbs rose from the pages. Flipping through it, he discovered page after page covered with notes scribbled in messy handwriting that changed whenever a new shaman took over. Some parts he could read easily, while in others he barely deciphered a few words. The topics ranged from newly discovered healing methods, to new trade items brought to Berk, to astronomical events, all with no apparent structure. Scattered throughout were drawings that varied from masterpieces to absolute abominations.
H slowly closed the book again.
"Okay... that's... going to take a while. But at least we finally have a lead. That's something, right?"
The other riders only gave hesitant nods, nowhere close to the open celebration from before, but it seemed at least a spark of hope was reignited in them.
'Baby steps,' H thought. 'Baby steps... Literally.'
"Thank you, Gothi, and not just for this," he said, turning back to the shaman. "It's been hard feeling like everyone we known is suddenly our enemy. You have no idea how good it feels to have someone we can trust again."
Gothi just smiled knowingly, and H got the feeling that in some way, they helped her as well.
"We've got some commotion starting outside," A announced,peeking through the window at the village below. "Looks like Stoick is starting to organise a search party for us."
"We should go. We don't want to lead him here," F said, motioning to the perching dragons.
Gothi nodded and got up to open the door.
"I know you have your own questions for us, and I promise we'll answer them when we come here next. We'll probably have plenty of time before we find what we're looking for in your book, and we might need help with it afterwards," H assured her.
"That's a great plan and all, but there's no way we can bring this to Stoick's house and keep it a secret, and going up here every day would attract a lot of attention," S said, jabbing a thumb towards F, who was unsuccessfully trying to pick up the book on his own.
"Well, what if we didn't have to," T said slowly, and H sighed when he noticed the familiar mischievous spark in the twin's expression.
"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what are you thinking?"
"You see, H, in our expert opinion, the simplest way to remove the danger of a transition from one place to another is to remove the need for the transition in the first place," T started while sharing a knowing look with R.
"Ah yes, the good old Thorston Nullification. And of course the best way to execute such a feat is to address a true problem of equal or larger scale than your need for the transition," the female twin said.
"Great, now that you're done with that, can you actually explain?" S deadpanned.
The twins grinned at each other.
"Remember that Eel Pox outbreak that happens a few years from now?"
The moment dragon training ended, Hiccup bolted out of the arena, ignoring Astrid's angry shouts and the people trying to congratulate him for yet another victory. He ran until he was completely out of breath and the streets around him were empty. His only luck was that his father was apparently too busy to come see training today -- something about the Blessings disappearing that morning -- otherwise he would be dealing with a lot of questions he didn't have answers to when he got home.
Once his lungs stopped trying to vacate his body, he listened for a few seconds to make sure no one was following him. From here, it was only a short walk to the Cove and he could finally spend more than a few minutes with Toothless, maybe even clear his head with a quick flight.
Unfortunately for him, someone did manage to follow him.
"And where do you think you're running off to?"
Hiccup sucked in a breath and turned around to face the blonde glaring at him.
"Astrid! Hey! I, uh, I wasn't running, I was... waiting for you! You know, so we could go... look for evidence again like you said?"
Astrid rolled her eyes.
"Hiccup, you are, always have been, and probably always will be a terrible liar, but this is bad even for you."
Hiccup gulped and took a step back.
Something about Astrid's tone had changed. That faint emotion he couldn't quite name (Confusion? Amusement? Fondness?) it held that morning was replaced with an air of annoyance and wariness. She looked tired in a way Hiccup knew well. Tired of being outcast and distrusted.
Tired of being alone.
"Astrid, about before--"
She cut him off with a growl. "Save it, Hiccup. I don't want to hear whatever lousy excuse you've made up. Just tell me this; Are you still in this?"
They both knew she wasn't talking about dragon training.
Hiccup remembered the giant inferno rising from the arena, caused by the dragons that the children released, and he opened his mouth to say yes, but then--
Hey, when did Hiccup get all wimpy again?
No matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise, that boy had definitely said his name. Sure, he wasn't the only one named Hiccup, but most of his namesakes were either sheep or, strangely enough, fish. And the boy said it right after waking up, while looking at him, and in a very familiar way, so who else could he mean? And what did he mean by 'again'? Did Hiccup somehow loose even more weight overnight?
Then there was the fact that the boy spoke at all, despite them never talking while out and about with Stoick.
He never told Astrid or the other teens about it. He didn't know why, it just... felt like something he should keep to himself for the time being, the same as all his observations about the children's relationship with dragons. Those six could be the key to so many secrets, maybe even peace between Vikings and dragons. If he helped Astrid hand them over to his father as traitors or abominations, all of that would be lost.
"I see," Astrid said coolly when the silence stretched too long. "I'll let you figure out where your loyalties lie before you answer."
She turned away, but her legs refused to move. The thought that the demons could be getting to Hiccup too brought a strange ache to her chest.
Was she about to lose her last ally in her mission?
Almost against her own will, she added, "In case you still want to help, they haven't been seen since this morning, so I'm going back to the forest to where we last saw them. Do whatever you want with that."
And she walked away.
That was it, right? She was back to being Astrid Hofferson, the shield-maiden, the prodigy... the lone wolf.
That was... good. She always worked best alone.
So why, why did she once again feel so relieved when she heard him hurrying after her?
Chapter 10: The Search (Times Two)
Summary:
Astrid and Hiccup's hunt continues, and so do their struggles with each other. The riders finally get a chance to relax.
Notes:
Having a bit of an existential crisis today, so here, have some hiccstrid awkward semi-fluff/starting relationship struggles that I totally didn't write to cope. Past hiccstrid fluff will be steadily increasing in future chapters, so buckle up.
Bon Appetite!
Chapter Text
Hiccup walked quietly behind Astrid, doing his best to match her pace. Not a single word had been exchanged between the two since earlier, and the silence was growing heavy.
In a way, Hiccup was glad the other teens were gone, since even during their stakeouts, they always found a way to question him about dragon training. But with just him and Astrid alone, the whole situation was suddenly very awkward. He had, of course, wished he could spend some... personal time with Astrid, but not as a tagalong on her hunt for supposed demons in child bodies.
He almost tried to strike up a conversation with her a couple times, but always worried himself out of it. And so they walked in silence, retracing their steps from that morning out of the village and deeper into the forest. Every now and again, Astrid bent down to examine tracks or broken branches, leading them surely on the children's trail, and Hiccup followed, feeling more and more like he was living up to the nickname 'Hiccup the Useless'.
They reached small grove where Astrid pause, looking in several directions, before picking one with a growl. It seemed the trail had become more challenging to follow for her from there. They moved a few steps forward a couple times, only to find themselves stuck over and over, until the girl was practically seething with frustration.
"Ugh, I don't get it!" she growled, stomping her foot. "One of them was definitely here. These footprints are too small for an adult, and no children from the village go this far into the forest alone. But here, the tracks lead down this slope and don't return, but there's no way to get down from there."
Tentatively, Hiccup said, "U-um, actually, there is. There's a small path over there, it's just hard to see because of those bushes and how the trees block the light. It's a bit narrow, but children their size would have no problem on it."
Astrid frowned and moved over to the bush he was pointing out. She parted it to indeed reveal a path with a set of small footprints in the soft moss.
"How did you know about this?"
Hiccup quickly avoided her eyes.
"Oh, you know... just from... wandering around."
Technically, that was true. He happened upon it when he was five, after Snotlout chased him up this very slope in one of his more rageful fits. Hiccup had taken the leap of faith rather than faced his cousin's fists, and he'd been using it as an emergency escape of sorts since then. It was one of his greatest secrets before Toothless.
Strange how easily that secret came out when talking to Astrid.
"Huh," Astrid hummed when they emerged on the other side of the path. "Well, looks like you're not so useless after all."
The remark stung, but when Hiccup looked at Astrid again, he could see the awkwardness in her expression and realised she had meant it as a joke.
If he didn't know better, he'd say she was feeling as awkward as him... But she was probably just still mad about what happened in the arena, right?
They started walking again, and this time, Hiccup took the opportunity to point out a shortcut or a good hiding place here and there. He felt happy that Astrid actually seemed interested in his knowledge of the island, even if it was only for the sake of her hunt.
Working together, they got through another stretch of the forest and emerged on the edge of a large ravine. Hiccup laughed when he recognised it.
"Oh, I know this place! Gobber took me here a couple days ago and almost fell right down when he confused a deer for an approaching dragon. He was talking about a new way to sharpen weapons, but got so freaked out he just grabbed a bunch of rocks. He was pretty angry when we got back, so I told him that you--"
He quickly stopped when he realised how far he'd strayed from the topic of their hunt. Astrid glared at him over her shoulder and he ducked his head, expecting another sharp jab or even for her to send him back to the village.
"That I what?" she asked instead.
Hiccup cautiously peeked up at her. There was no sharp object flying his way, and that question wasn't necessarily said in a unkind tone.
"Well... I told him that you might be able to help us, since you understand what a weapon actually needs in the field. B-basically, there's this one type of stone..."
He slowly explained his whole idea to her, and was surprised when instead of dismissing it like anyone else would, she gave her opinion, even looking somewhat interested. Hesitantly, he laid out another problem he'd been wanting her input for. Astrid's answer was short, and she focused more on leading the way, but still let him talk.
So Hiccup just... kept going, talking about anything that came to his mind, enjoying not being shut down.
It made him feel better. Accepted. It was a feeling similar to how he felt with Toothless.
He wondered if Astrid felt the same at that moment. Then again, did Astrid ever feel out of place like he so often did? With how famous and loved she was in the village for being the protégé of her generation, he doubted it.
Just as he started talking about Gobber's newest attempt to trap the trolls that were allegedly stealing his socks, Astrid stopped held up a hand to silence him. She knelt down and examined the ground, frowning.
They finally came to a stop at the edge of a large bilberry field with a giant rock in the middle, where the trail once again changed. Astrid examined the ground, frowning.
"Strange. It looks like they regrouped here and the all started running in different directions. They must have been trying to confuse us. Clearly they're masters of deception."
"Or, you know... they could have just been playing," Hiccup suggested meekly.
Astrid scoffed. "Why would demons waste time by playing around? Either way, these traces are much easier to spot than before, so come on."
But like she said, the children's trails ran all around the place, sometimes crossing each other or hiding for seemingly no reason. Hiccup and Astrid often found themselves walking in circles, which only frustrated Astrid more.
This continued until they found a bush that looked like any other to Hiccup, but immediately caught Astrid's attention.
"Looks like one of them ambushed another over there and chased them here. Then the first fell through and everyone else followed," she said, pushing through the bush to the other side.
When Hiccup followed, even he could tell something happened here; the grass was completely trampled and some of the closest trees had their lower branched snapped.
"There was a fight here. I can't see much because it's all over the place, but it looks like at least one of them was rolling around and--" Astrid cut off and reached down, picking up something that glittered in the sun. When Hiccup looked over her shoulder, he saw that she was holding a small dragon scale.
"That looks like a Terrible Terror," he said.
"Or a baby Lycanwing," Astrid growled and pocketed it. "I knew it! They came out here to transform, probably to practice ripping people apart."
Hiccup was fairly certain that was not the case. Dragon scales were very distinct, and Terror scales in particular were small and round. But he was also certain that telling Astrid would end up with him cut up in equally small pieces.
"So, now what? Do we go tell my dad?" he asked instead.
Astrid scowled.
"As much as I wish we could, no. This won't be enough evidence for him, but it is enough evidence for us to keep going."
Astrid looked around the clearing again and then walked a bit to the side, where the grass wasn't as trampled.
"There was someone else here," she said darkly after a moment, "only slightly bigger footprints, and... a cane maybe? And it looks like they returned to the village with the children. This isn't good. There are either more of them out here, or they have spies already integrated inside the village."
Her eyes flickered to Hiccup, and it wasn't hard to figure out what she was thinking. His feet were about the right size, and with his sudden change in dragon training and general behaviour, it wasn't hard to imagine he'd somehow been replaced. But he had no cane and was with Astrid pretty much the whole day, so she wouldn't suspect him... right?
A momentary tension passed between the two, and Astrid's hand twitched towards her axe. Hiccup was just about ready to start running for his life, when, to his great surprise and relief, she simply turned around and started examining the clearing again.
Over her shoulder, she said, "We'll have to be more careful now. We have no idea who we can trust. Don't tell anyone about this and make the others think you've given up the search as well. That way if we get targeted, it'll only be me they go after."
"A-are you sure? That could be dangerous," Hiccup stammered, still feeling like he couldn't breathe properly from her stare.
"I can take care of myself, Hiccup."
"R-right. Yeah. I know."
He retreated a little, rubbing his arm self-consciously. He didn't want Astrid to get hurt, but she was right. Besides, he wasn't even sure the children were actually dangerous, and if they were, what could Hiccup the Useless even do to protect her?
Astrid finished looking around and sighed.
"Looks like they hid their tracks going from here. We'll stop for today and start tailing them again tomorrow after they return to the village. You should sleep with one eye open, just in case they realised what we've been doing."
"I, uh, don't think they'd try anything with my dad nearby. Don't worry about me."
"Why would I be worried?" Astrid snapped, harsher than either of them expected.
Hiccup took a startled step back. "I-I just thought that... n-never mind."
They stared at each other for a moment before Astrid scoffed and pushed past him, stomping away through the forest. As Hiccup watched her rigidly cutting through the trees, the gears in his head started turning.
Something seemed... off about Astrid. Thinking back, there were many small signs throughout the day that he didn't pay mind to before; the paler shade of her skin, faint shadows under her eyes, the millisecond longer it took her to react, and the way her swings didn't quite have the same energy behind them.
Hiccup knew those signs. He'd seen them on himself many times.
But should he ask? Astrid might not be happy if he does, but... he couldn't just ignore it.
If only he could see in her head, know how she'd feel...
...
Astrid felt like screaming.
Despite the overwhelming need to keep quiet during their search, she wanted Hiccup to start blabbing again, to dispel that strange tension between them with another story of his, because, in some strange, illogical way, his voice... it calmed her.
She hated it. She hated how confusing this whole day had been, how hard it was when she thought she was left alone for the search, and how relieved she was to have Hiccup, the boy she hated more than anyone for the past few weeks, stay with her.
She heard him take a breath behind her and was ready to bury those thoughts in listening to another of Gobber's ridiculous superstitions, or helping him figure out a flaw on one of his inventions.
"Astrid, did you sleep at all?"
Astrid flinched at the pure, unfiltered concern in Hiccup's voice. The feelings she was hoping would go away only doubled, infuriating her even more.
She spun around to glare at Hiccup, but her face froze midway in a confused grimace when she saw the same earnest emotion displayed on his face.
He stepped back, and a hint of fear crept into his expression when he saw how she reacted, but he made no move to withdraw his question.
That was wrong, all wrong! They may have been allies for now, but they were also competitors in dragon training! He shouldn't wasn't allowed to be concerned for her! Not even her parents had given her that look in years, and yet... she couldn't stop the aching in her chest, the sudden need to be wrapped in a hug and comforted, told that everything was going to be all right.
The feelings of a child she'd long since buried deep inside her heart.
"Not much, I... I just had a lot on my mind," she mumbled (mumbled!) instead of the sharp comeback she prepared in her head.
Hiccup seemed equally surprised at her honest answer, and it took him a moment to get another sentence out.
"I... Yeah, I get that, but um... just don't burn yourself out, all right? I know you want to find out who these kids really are-- And we will! But it won't do anyone any good if you collapse from exhaustion. Your health is important too, Astrid."
He managed to pull together a small smile and Astrid's world shattered with it.
Here she was, the most promising warrior of her generation, standing against the village runt, the person she saw as the weakest of the weak, who she only ever pitied or hated, and who had undoubtedly cheated his way into the final dragon fight.
That very person told her she was important. Not Astrid-warrior, just Astrid. Just her.
Since she first picked up an axe, everyone told her she was strong, fierce, a model warrior. They asked about her training, her ambitions, the secret to her strength, but no one ever asked about her health. No one ever asked if she was okay.
It was a foreign feeling, but Astrid found herself clinging to it like a lifeline.
"...going on over there."
Astrid was abruptly brought back to the present.
"H-huh?"
"It looks like something's going on in the village," Hiccup repeated, pointing through the trees where the lights of the village were shining through the falling dusk.
When Astrid looked that way, she could indeed see people rushing about and hear far more voices than were usual for this hour. It seemed like many of the villagers had gathered outside and were only now disbanding. She couldn't make out much, but she did hear the word "search" several times.
"Let's go find out," she said, but on her very first step, she stumbled, and suddenly found Hiccup holding her up.
"I think we should call it a day, Astrid. You need--"
Astrid pointedly shoved him off and glared as she readjusted her armor.
"Don't you dare think I can't fight like this! A true warrior could be drunk like an old sailor and could still hold their own! If the demons did something again, I need to know!"
She didn't need to sleep, and certainly not in a nice, comfortable bed, with a warm blanket and a soft pillow, that would make her stress just melt awa--
Focus!
"Or maybe Mildew just had another one of his end-of-the-world speeches after waking up," Hiccup countered. "Astrid, I'm not saying you can't handle yourself, I'm just saying that for fighting with whatever demons you think the kids are, you should be at your best. Look, my dad definitely knows what's going on, so how about I go ask him while you head home? If anything serious happened, I'll come get you."
Astrid was already opening her mouth to say no that comforting infuriating look of concern in his eyes stopped her.
This wasn't at all like the Hiccup she knew. Since when did he have enough courage to come forward with his own plans, much less ones that went directly against what the other party wanted?
Something had changed with the boy, and she was only now starting to see that it went beyond dragon training.
Maybe there really was more to him.
"All right," she finally relented, surprising both Hiccup and herself, "but if I wake up tomorrow to find out you didn't come get me, I swear I will feed you to the first dragon Gobber throws at us."
Hiccup gave a startled chuckle. "That's... fair. I think?"
"It is." Astrid looked at the village again, searching for anyone that would match the person the children met up with. "You should wait here a moment, or at least go back a different way so people don't think we're coming back together."
"Oh, right..." Hiccup mumbled, obviously only just remembering Astrid's earlier plan about making herself the only target.
Astrid nodded and turned to head home. Just as Hiccup was about to do the same, another only half-intentional remark slipped out.
"Hiccup?"
"Y-Yeah?"
"...Thank you."
Before Hiccup could pick his jaw off the floor to answer and before her own brain could catch up to what she said, Astrid set a quick pace for home and vanished in the shadows without looking back. She was careful to avoid any areas where she could hear Vikings mingling and kept away from any guard fires or other larger light sources.
She told herself it was because she didn't want anyone questioning why she was out so late, but really, she didn't want them to see the faint blush on her face.
...
It took Hiccup a while to get his brain to register his body again. By then, Astrid was gone, and so were most of the voices in the village.
He shakily headed home, wondering whether he was also more tired than he thought. He must have misheard what she said, right? There was no way the same Astrid Hofferson he knew had just thanked him. Even though some of her hate of him from dragon training seemed to ebb during their hunt, it never went beyond mere tolerance.
No, it didn't make sense. And even if she did actually... thank him... she was tired and had been acting weird all day. He shouldn't read into it.
So he did just that, and proceeded not to think about it his whole way home. He was also definitely not still so distracted by it when he entered his house that he tripped over the legs of his father, who was sitting in the entryway. Nope, that was completely intentional.
"Hiccup!" Stoick startled and caught his son's hand just in time to stop him from faceplanting into the floor. "What in Thor's graces are you doing coming home so late? I thought you'd be in bed already!"
"Bed?" Hiccup asked dumbly, trying to chase a certain blonde out of his thoughts. "R-right, bed! I was, uh... training! Yeah, late training. Very intense dragon killing stuff and.... other... stuff. I lost track of time."
Stoick raised an eyebrow and looked Hiccup over, noting what must have looked exactly like the clothes and appearance of someone who just spent several hours running around in the forest.
A knowing glint ignited in his eyes.
"Ah, I see what's going on here. No need to lie to me, son. Between you and me, at your age, I was also venturing out to see some of the finer ladies of the village. Though I was a wee bit sneakier about it."
Hiccup's face flushed as memories of Astrid's quiet thank you came hurtling back.
"That's not what I was doing, Dad!" he protested loudly, but his father only laughed as they moved into the main room.
"Sure you weren't. And I wasn't out solving the village's problems again."
Hiccup only grew redder, but before he could figure out another retort, he finally realised that the six children were notably absent from their bedding at the fireplace. Despite that, his father had clearly come in alone.
"Hey, Dad, where are the Blessings?" he asked, only partially to change the topic.
Stoick's eyes flashed to the fireplace and his expression soured.
"Oh, that. They'll be staying with Gothi for a while. Apparently, she's seen signs of a coming plague and she needs them to ask for the gods' help to prevent it," he said, and Hiccup couldn't shake the feeling that his father very much disliked that.
Then he froze when he remembered what Astrid said; that the children left the forest with another person that probably had a cane.
There was no way. Could Gothi also be...
'Think rationally, Hiccup,' he scolded himself, 'You know that was a Terror scale Astrid found. Gothi's been the village healer for years, there's no way she's anything else. She was probably out there gathering herbs and only took them back to the village, or maybe it wasn't her at all. Coincidences still happen.'
"Well, I'm going to fix us some supper and head to bed. Got lots to do tomorrow," Stoick said as he went to the fireplace.
"Right..."
Hiccup went to help him set the table and didn't miss how his father automatically reached for the additional bowls before he caught himself. Oddly enough, Hiccup also felt strange without the children there, like the house was suddenly far too empty.
As he was setting his father's bowl down, he glanced out the window at the sky. A small light, like Berk's very own star, shone where Gothi's hut sat atop the village's tallest point.
What he wouldn't give to have Toothless with him right now, so the two of them could fly up there and listen in from the shadows. Even if he didn't hear confirmation to any of his or Astrid's theories, whatever secrets the children were discussing would undoubtedly be priceless.
"No, T, I can't attach Toothless's fin to a yak to make it fly."
Said twin groaned in disappointment and fell back against the wall he and R had been leaning against, while H struggled not to laugh at the mental image his suggestion induced.
After Gothi informed Stoick where they'd be staying -- a conversation that was quick and definitely not at all awkward -- the six time travellers made themselves at home. Before she left for nattmal, Gothi gave them some spare pillows and blankets that they spread around the fireplace in a similar layout to the one they had at Stoick's house. The smaller space was well worth not feeling both of the Haddocks' constant stares.
Most of all, they were all happy to finally be able to let their guard down.
Before long, H and A ended up cuddled together by the fire and discussing plans for improving Berk's defences with S, while F sat opposite them, skimming through the first pages of Gothi's book. The twins had meanwhile relaxed enough to get back to their plans for Loki'ing, which they had miraculously managed not to mention for the whole week.
It was from that very planning that T's strange question arose.
"Aww, well there goes that idea. Could have made for a cool escape out of here too," R pouted.
"Don't worry, we'll find another way to aerial-bomb Mildew's house," T comforted her.
"I'm sorry, you're planning to do what to Mildew?" S asked incredulously.
"Aerial-bomb him," T repeated like it was the most obvious thing. "With eggs, of course. We find that although it is less flashy, it is a far less permanent and more pungent choice than the alternative."
"We've got several years worth of Loki Days to make up to him. We're just a little stuck on the planning phase without Barf and Belch. Who would have thought that having a giant, flying, fire-breathing lizard with a taste for destruction would make our plans that much easier?" R added.
S stared at them before rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"...Right. Aside from that extremely publicly beneficial function, I think we have other reasons to get ourselves back in the air. We have no idea how long it will take us to find what we need in that book, so having a way off the island might still be a good idea, even if we don't end up using it."
"Well, unless we manage to find a larger dragon, we'll need to start getting creative," A mused, scratching the chin of the turquoise Terror in her lap. "We were all happy to find these guys, but I'm not sure they could actually carry any of us. That, and we couldn't even properly sit on them without risking falling off on any major turn.
H hummed, shifting his leg. "I'm pretty sure my dad once told me about a Terror that almost carried me off as kid, but you're right. The Terrors can't carry us like our dragons do."
"But you already have an idea to fix that," A added, seeing the familiar glint in his eyes.
"Kind of. I got it just now, thanks to them," H said with a smirk and pointed towards a duo of yellow Terrors that were hissing angrily.
The duo had been chasing each other through the room and now got themselves tangled up in the ropes holding up Gothi's hammock. They were trying desperately to untangle themselves, but the frantic flapping of their wings only got them tangled more.
S and A couldn't see what H was talking about, but when F looked up from the book in front of him, his face lit up. Rather than at the dragons, he was looking at the hammock itself; stacked with many pillow and a wool blanket, it was much too heavy for a single Terror to lift, but together, the two trapped dragons inadvertently caused it to rise slightly.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" H asked the Ingerman with a smirk.
F nodded feverishly. "Yes! That's brilliant! It would be risky, but if we take into account the individual weight and strength of the dragons--"
"--And then use the correct shape with the right aerodynamics, we could just about make it work. But then there's the problem of choosing the right materials--"
"--Sturdy but light enough, yeah! Not to mention the getting them without anyone noticing, and then we'll need some tools for the assembly, but--"
"Aaand they're going to be at that for the rest of the night," A concluded as the two boys spiralled into excited chatter. "I'm going to get some shuteye. You guys are on parchment duty."
S grimaced as if A was offering him a mug of her handmade yaknog.
"Not a chance! I was it last time and got stuck for five hours! It's the twins' turn now."
The two folded their hands in sync.
"Yeah, I don't think so, Snotman. Making sure those two stay on the parchment only is like keeping a Gronckle from a pile of limestone, and we have way too much planning still ahead of us to do that," T said dryly.
With a knowing smirk, S lowered his voice and said, "Well, might I remind you that I still know about that little thing you did during the last Snoggletog, and if I have to spend the night babysitting those two, I might just be annoyed enough to let it slip to a couple select people."
The twins shared a look and then glanced at A before looking at S again with solemn expressions.
"You play a dangerous game, S, but we respect it. In that case, I vote Ruff."
"I disagree and vote Tuff!"
"Then I vote we fight for the vote by reinstating the Terror training competition!"
"It was never a competition!" H groaned but was promptly ignored.
S watched the R and T exchange hostile looks and laughed.
"Now this is what I call a good way to unwind! And since I so obviously won the last one, I will be the judge -- No need to thank me, I'm just that gracious in my superiority."
A just rolled her eyes and curled up on the thickest blanket, the turquoise Terror serving as her heated pillow.
An hour or so later, Gothi returned to find the six time travelers with not even the smallest semblance of their earlier worries. A was fast asleep, while H and F were immersed in a heated discussion over a large spread of scribbled drawings. S, R, and T were occupying a large portion of the room, with the Jorgenson watching the two Thorstons who were engaged in some strange competition Gothi wasn't quite sure the purpose or contents of, and that involved many of the Terrors.
She watched the children silently for a few moments, marvelling at how different they were from their divided younger selves.
And for the first time in years, she felt that there truly was hope for Berk's future.
Chapter 11: How to Set the Board (Human Edition)
Summary:
As another day of dragon training finishes, the first part of the riders' plan is put in motion.
Notes:
Uh, so I think AO3 is trying to confuse me because the number of chapter published isn't lining up with the number of chapters shown on the overview. Seriously, I feel like I'm tripping. Do you guys see all 11 chapter fine, or did I somehow manage to post a chapter only for me?
Chapter Text
The following day, the riders gathered on Gothi's porch. It was close to noon already, but that didn't change anything about the fact that the vast majority of their group was on the verge of falling asleep.
H and F looked tired but happy, as opposed to R, T, and S, who were leaning on each other and slowly falling asleep on their feet.
"Well, you all seem rested," H joked and was met with three murderous glares. "Sorry, couldn't help it. We didn't get much sleep either, but the good news is, we think we may have found a way to actually ride the Terrors... kind of. Finding a larger dragon would still be better, and there will be some complications, but theoretically, it should work. Probably. We hope."
"That's a lot of uncertainty for one speech, Chief," S yawned. "And it's waaaay too early for strategy talk."
"Yeah, planning's great and all, but do we get nap time? I feel like we're young enough for nap time," R slurred as she repeatedly pushed her snoozing brother off her shoulder.
H and F exchanged a knowing look.
"Just listen, okay? I think you'll like this plan. If you still want to, you can have your 'nap time' afterwards," H assured the twins, his expression somewhere between amusement and resignation.
"So, just like A said yesterday, we figured there was no way we could fly the Terrors like we do our own dragons. So we created this," F started, laying out a piece of parchment in the middle of their circle. It was covered in messy scribbles with blocks of notes and arrows sprinkled through, which together probably made some sort of a design. Pretty much the only easily distinguishable part of it was a set of very simplified sketches of a Terrible Terror, most likely wearing the saddle...thing.
"It's not really a saddle, more like... a harness that should allow the Terrors to carry us," H explained, his voice full of pride at their creation. "It's not exactly what you're used to, and you'll each need more than one dragon -- we still need to calculate how many for each -- but in theory it's completely safe."
The other four riders stared at the parchment for a while, trying to make sense of it, and then collectively turned away.
"We'll take your word for it, love," A said for all of them.
"There are a few more complications, but we'll discuss that once we actually have them made. Now, our biggest problem is that we need materials to make them, and the only place we can currently get those is the forge, which is where Gobber spends most of his day. My younger self also stays there a lot, but he's mostly with either Toothless or Astrid these days, so he shouldn't be that much of a problem."
H turned to the twins, who were still nodding off.
"And that's where you guys come in. I want to sneak into the forge today once dragon training begins, but with our... proportions I will probably need more time than usual to actually create the first harness. So, we'll need a distraction. And considering you two have the most experience in that field..."
The twins, now wide awake, stared at H in astonishment as he struggled to get the words out. The others also stared, but with entirely different expressions.
"Hiccup, are you... giving us permission to Loki our younger selves?" T asked carefully.
H took a moment to apologize to everyone he was unleashing the two Loki-spawns on for the day, and nodded.
Both of the twins' jaws hit the floor.
"Oh... my... Thor. This is the best day ever!" T cheered.
"Chiefly permission to Loki! And it's not even Loki Day!" R joined in.
The two started jumping around like a pair of lunatics, cheering and singing so loud H was almost surprised no one below could hear it. The other riders were staring at their chief, clearly wondering how in Odin's name he could think this was a good idea.
Once the twins were done celebrating, they both turned to H with starry eyes that only made him regret his plan more.
"Don't worry, Chief, we won't disappoint you! Or we'll at least start before you can change your mind," T promised, giving him a double thumbs-up.
"We have to start preparing right now. We'll need tar, feathers, coal, bird feed," R started counting on her fingers, "ideally also some yak skins, yak horns, yak eyes, and-- oh!"
"Gobber's spare legs!" the two yelled in unison.
A carefully inched away from the cackling twins.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she whispered towards H. "If we stop them now, we could still limit this to only ten or twenty victims. Seriously, H, I wouldn't unleash these two this riled up even on my sworn enemies, and you want to let them loose here?"
H gave a weak half-shrug. "Trust me, if there was another way, I would take it. We talked about this for most of last night, and anything else has a much larger risk of us being discovered. If I have to choose between risking the sanity of past Berk or our entire future, well... A chief protects his own."
A glanced at the twins, who were already deep into planning, and sighed.
"These are also your people, Hiccup, but... I guess you're right. And if we're going with the totally crazy plans now, I've actually been thinking about how to get my younger self off our back, and this might be a good opportunity to try something I've been planning."
That easily earned her H's full attention. He didn't like where this was going at all.
"I don't know. Getting anywhere near our past selves is risky. Since whatever is protecting us most likely isn't affecting them, I'd say we should avoid them as much as we can."
"I know, I know, but yesterday she got way too close. With the others off our backs, getting her to leave us alone would mean we get to move around much easier. Plus, I'd rather fail at trying to stop her than risk remembering whatever craziness those two would do to 'me'," she added, inclining her head towards the twins.
S, who had been listening in, snorted. "Hah, you actually think you you can protect her from them when they break loose? Trust me, the moment H gave them free reign, he doomed everyone on Berk. Little Snotlout is all on his own in this. If anything, I'll have some fun watching this go down, maybe even take care of a few of my personal grudges."
"It's moments like these I have no idea why H let you command Berk's armed forces. And how Berk didn't burn down afterwards," F mumbled from the side.
"Actually, S, I'm going to need you with me," H said before S could join the twins, "I'll need someone else to keep an eye out while I work, and F is staying here to continue looking through Gothi's book."
With irritation obvious in his every motion, S turned to his cousin. After a short staring battle, he groaned and dragged a hand down his face.
"Ugh, fine. But you could just admit you're too short to reach stuff instead of making up excuses," he huffed, smirking at the shorter boy's exasperated look.
Sticking out his tongue at him, H turned to A and squeezed her hand.
"If you're sure you want to take on your younger self, I won't stop you. Just... please be careful."
"It's not me you should be worried about," the girl smirked, tossing her toy axe over her shoulder.
H gulped, eternally grateful that he wasn't the one in any of the three's crosshairs for once.
"Right. That means Astrid's taken care of, but the rest of our younger selves are still up to you two. And, most importantly, Gobber can't return to the forge either. If you have to decide between letting him or one of the teens discover us, choose the teens," he told the twins.
"Yeah, no problem, H," T waved dismissively, his mind clearly already far away. "Oh, and by the way, we'll be borrowing the Terrors. Like, all of them."
H opened his mouth to immediately shoot the idea down from pure instinct, but then just sighed in resignation.
"Do I want to know why?"
R smirked. "Patience, dear Chief of ours. You will find out soon enough. Like they say; the more the merrier Loki is."
H held back another sigh, but despite all the things he knew would undoubtedly go wrong, he could feel an excited thrum in his muscles.
Finally, after a week of hoping for a solution to fall in their lap, they were going to do something.
"So, when can we start? Do we have a signal?" S asked.
His answer was a high-pitched scream that carried across the village, causing the Vikings below to stop what they were doing and look towards the arena.
H smirked.
"I believe that would be our signal."
"I can't believe he's even worse the second time around," Ruffnut marvelled, sounding genuinely surprised.
"I know, right? I love it," Tuffnut snickered.
All the teens, minus Snotlout, were perched atop one of the barriers that divided the arena into a maze. It was a peaceful afternoon, quiet, save for the distant scratching of claws and thudding of running feet.
"Gobber should take Snotlout's advice to heart more often. This is way more fun that the training we've had so far," the first twin remarked just as said Jorgenson came running in the corridor below them.
"What are you muttonheads waiting for?! Help me!" he screamed when he noticed them.
Unfortunately for him, his scream had the unintended effect of showing the Nadder that was chasing him where he was.
"Sorry, Snot. Still making a strategy," Tuffnut called after him as the boy was forced to flee deeper into the maze, pursued by the angry dragon.
Hiccup glanced around at the gleeful faces of his companions, who, contrary to Tuffnut's words, weren't in any rush to start planning the rescue.
After the... lively discussion with Snotlout the previous day, Gobber decided to appease one of the Jorgenson's demands and 'spice the training up a little'. He did that by introducing 'trust training', which basically consisted of one of the trainees being bait and having to trust the other trainees to make a plan to trap the dragon before they were caught.
Hiccup might have actually believed this was a genuine attempt to improve their teamwork if it weren't for the fact that Snotlout was the bait for the fourth time in a row.
A few seconds after Snotlout vanished, his approximately thirteenth yell tore through the arena when the boy tripped and started scrambling away on all fours from the rapidly approaching Nadder. As the dragon was about to skewer the boy with its tail, Gobber lazily jumped into the fray and dragged it back into its pen.
"That was a valiant effort, Snotlout, really starting to see that Jorgenson wisdom ye were yammering about. Still, were this a real battle, you woulda been dead. And ye five!" He turned to the other teens, who were still perched atop their barrier. "Ye ain't the spectators here! I'm gonna need some action from ye!"
He turned back to Snotlout, who was struggling to stand up on his shaking legs. After some contemplation, Gobber said, "All right, ye can sit this one out, Snotlout. I think we've seen enough of ye for today."
Snotlout didn't even have enough energy left to defend the tatters of his pride, he just scrambled up and away from Gobber before he could change his mind.
"Now then," the blacksmith called, clapping his hands, "we'll be taking the Zippleback out next. It might not look it, but the beastie's a sneaky one so ye need to be on yer guard. Any volunteers?"
"I'll go," Astrid said, jumping down from the barrier she was perched on. She was still keeping a distance from the other teens, although she wasn't glaring at them as often as the day before.
"Good luck," Hiccup called after her hesitantly before he could think better of it. Sure, he was supposed to pretend that he wasn't helping her with the search anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't talk to her, right?
She glanced up at him, and he wondered whether she, too, was recalling their outing from yesterday.
And then she... smiled ever so slightly and gave him a small appreciative nod, before she turned away and disappeared into the maze.
The other three teens watched the short interaction with wide eyes.
"What. Just. Happened?" Fishlegs asked, slowly turning to Hiccup.
The boy shrugged, equally confused. "I... honestly have no idea."
"I mean... I know what I said yesterday, but... damn," Tuffnut said in astonishment.
Hiccup shrank back under their almost reverent gazes and laughed nervously. He was just glad Snotlout was busy trying to climb on another barricade, otherwise the dragons would gain some fierce competition in chasing him around the maze.
Astrid had meanwhile found a spot where she could watch the Zippleback's pen from a safe distance and calmly waited as the log holding it closed lifted. The two wings of the door were thrown open and a large cloud of green smoke spilled out, seeping into the maze. Astrid could only just barely see the dragon's two-headed silhouette slither out of the pen.
She grimaced when she realised she was supposed to be bait and what that meant. She really only volunteered because she couldn't bear sitting with her turbulent thoughts anymore.
Despite her better instincts, she waited until the dragon noticed her and then dashed off into the maze, just fast enough so it wouldn't catch up to her but wouldn't lose her either. She made a few sharp turns, narrowly missing one of the dragon's heads at one point, and eventually ended up behind it, with the beast none the wiser.
She had a prime opportunity to strike it from the back, to finish it right then and there. Regrettably, that wasn't the point of this exercise.
Instead, she tiptoed away until there were a couple barricades between her and the dragon and then hit her axe against the stones to draw it to her and let the others know where she was. As the scraping of claws and violent hissing came near, she hid in another corridor and waited for the dragon to go past her before repeating her previous ruse.
True to its reputation, after the third repeat, the Zippleback gave up the pointless chase and started sneaking through the maze, ignoring her signals and trying to get the jump on her. She was actually quite enjoying the challenge of having to look out for a flaming beast that would spring at her from behind corners.
As she was waiting for the dragon to catch up once again, she spotted Hiccup, gesturing at her wildly from the top of the barricade she sat on before. Did he want her to climb on top again? Not the tactic she would have chosen, but... it was a trust exercise.
With the help of her axe, she got to the top just as the hissing heads coiled around the corner. She held her breath while the dragon slowly passed below, the frills on one of the heads passing a breath below her left foot.
When the dragon was safely past her, Astrid looked around and spotted Hiccup crouched on a barricade opposite the twins near the end of the passage. They were apparently waiting until it got in the right place -- wherever that was.
Astrid's cheeks flushed involuntarily when she remembered the last words she left Hiccup with. She still remembered the comfort of hearing another's voice while trudging through the forest, the warm feeling of knowing he was behind her.
If only he knew the rest he convinced her to take was her best in weeks.
It all almost made her forget what happened before that.
While the other teens were definitely falling under the children's spell, she wasn't sure about Hiccup. Except that one momentary hesitation, he didn't seem like he was about to give up. Although he was acting a bit strange, he was still mostly his unorthodox, weird, unusual self.
Still... it wouldn't hurt to make sure.
Maybe, just maybe, only for today... they didn't have to follow the children the whole day, right? How much evil could they do in a couple hours? Maybe the two of them could... go walk through the forest and... train together or something. She could make sure he stayed on her side and that he really wasn't falling under the children's spell, and maybe even figure out what made him so much better at dragon training.
Yeah, those were the only reasons.
She glanced back to where Hiccup was helping the twins spread some netting over the Zippleback that had stopped in the corridor below, waiting to hear her axe again.
Honestly, why couldn't feelings come with a manual?
Hiccup noticed Astrid looking his way and waved hesitantly, almost dropping the net as he did, which caused the twins to hiss at him in an unintended but very convincing imitation of the Zippleback.
Astrid seemed better then the previous day. Hiccup hoped that meant she got some sleep, although that would raise the question of why she would suddenly follow his advice.
Astrid raised her hand -- either to wave back or make a far less friendly gesture at him -- but then she froze, staring at something outside the arena that Hiccup couldn't see from his angle. After a few seconds, her look hardened, and the grip on her axe tightened, her knuckles turning white.
The reason for her change was one of the children; the girl in blue-scaled armour with a single ponytail, that took the toy axe off Johann's ship. She was sitting on the side of the cliff overlooking the arena, her eyes locked onto Astrid's.
But what really drew Astrid's attention was the shimmer of new scales; bright turquoise ones that wrapped around the girl's shoulders and covered the two draconic wings that were idly folded behind her.
It was a long, terrifying moment before Astrid realised that the child wasn't about to transform and burn them all alive, but that the scales were in fact those of a turquoise Terrible Terror that was laying on her shoulders.
Not that that was much better.
Before Astrid could think about calling out to Gobber or any of the adults watching the training, the girl smirked and mouthed something, and despite the distance, Astrid could almost hear her words echo around the arena.
"Catch me if you can," she taunted.
Astrid's eye twitched and all her logic took a dive into the deepest pit of Hel.
'Oh, that does it!'
She took a quick look at her surroundings, searching for the fastest way out.
The gate was still closed, and on top of that, the Zippleback was coming towards her again, thinking she couldn't see it. The twins had somehow managed to end up in the net instead of the dragon, and everyone else was too busy laughing at them or trying to free them to pay attention to the dragon.
There was another way out; some of the barricades led straight to the arena walls, only, those would take her right over the dragon.
Astrid glanced back at the cliff and saw that the girl had disappeared.
Fast and dangerous it was.
She took a deep breath... and started running.
Her feet landed precariously on the narrow top of the barricades, but she kept picking up speed on her way towards the edge of the arena. Two more steps and she was at the end of the barricade, still a good distance from the wall itself and with the dragon right below her.
She looked back up, locking her eyes on her target, gripped her axe tighter--
And jumped.
The Zippleback raised its heads and bared its needle-like teeth. Gas and fire sparked in its maw.
It missed by a hair's width.
The two monstrous jaws snapped at empty air while Astrid slammed into the wall and managed to grab hold of the chain dome. Ignoring Gobber's calls, the dragon that was trying to snap at her again, and the startled gasps of the spectating Vikings, she pulled herself over the edge and out of the arena, just as the Zippleback slammed into where she'd been hanging.
"Astrid, where are you going?!" Hiccup's voice momentarily cut through the roaring in her ears, but not even he could stop her.
She couldn't see the girl anywhere, but a barely audible chirp drew her attention to the bridge leading back to the village. The turquoise Terror was sitting on the railing, watching her with sharp eyes.
The Vikings around her were talking to her now, none of them seemingly noticing the dragon that was so close it could burn them from behind -- No doubt another effect of the children's curse. Astrid growled, and the dragon cocked its head to the side, blinking innocently.
And then it simply vanished.
Astrid caught a glimpse of turquoise flit between the houses on the edge of the village, and a small human figure in the same spot.
'Playing tag, are we? Unfortunately for you, demon, that's my favourite game,' she thought darkly before she pushed through the crowd and ran after them.
...
"Astrid! Lass, where are ye going?!"
Gobber's calls remained unanswered. The girl narrowly missed the dragon's jaws, nearly giving him a heart attack, and disappeared over the edge of the arena, leaving a stunned crowd in her wake.
"I swear to Odin teenager get weirder an' weirder every year," the blacksmith grumbled, scratching his head in confusion.
He turned to the remaining five, from which two were still trapped in the net intended for the dragon. They didn't seem too bothered by it at the moment, though.
"Did Astrid just... skip dragon training?" Snotlout asked in disbelief from atop his barricade. "Did someone swap her for a Lycanwing while we weren't looking?"
"Skipping training? Wait, why didn't we think of that?" Tuffnut turned to his sister, which was a bit of a challenge inside the net.
Ruffnut looked absolutely horrified.
"It does sound like something we should have thought of. You don't think... we're losing our touch, do you?"
The very thought made them both recoil, the net swinging with them.
"Absolutely not! We must uphold our reputation!"
Roars and the sound of metal hitting stone drew everyone's attention to Gobber, who was wrangling the Zippleback back into its pen.
"All right, you lot!" he called through the ruckus. "Looks like training's over for today. It's getting late anyways. I'll see y'all here tomorrow as soon as the sun rises. Looks like we need to have a wee chat about when and how ye can leave my class."
He shook his head in disbelief as he locked the pen and then snapped his fingers when he remembered something.
"Oh, and Hiccup? Don't run off after yer girlfriend yet. I need ye to close up the forge while I clean up here. Ye still have a job there, y'know."
Hiccup's face turned red as a Changewing, while the twins roared in laughter. Fishlegs looked worriedly between Hiccup and a gradually paling Snotlout, but was visibly fighting back a laugh.
Deciding not to try and win over Gobber in a fight -- he'd tried many times, both verbal and physical ones, and knew how that would end -- Hiccup helped Fishlegs detangle the twins from the net before rushing out of the arena. The other teens were quick to follow, the twins' whistles mixing with Snotlout's shouts.
Today was really not Hiccup's day, and it seemed to be far from over. Depending on how big of a mess Gobber made to need his help, it could take hours to clean up the forge. Hiccup could already see Toothless' accusing stare when he again came to the Cove late for their evening flight.
He was certain there were only a few ways today could get any worse, most including his father and the aforementioned dragon. And a group of children.
R and T remained still and unseen as they watched Astrid run off towards the village. The confused crowd of onlookers watched her leave, murmuring among themselves, and then slowly dispersed once training was declared over. Soon after, the rest of the trainees also left the arena and headed towards the village, four of them seemingly chasing Hiccup.
"It seems that everyone is in place," R remarked calmly.
"Indeed it does, sister nut," T replied, gently stroking the feathers of the chicken he held in his arms. "Soon, our plans will be set in motion."
The two cackled.
As the sun got lower and the trainees neared the bridge to the village, the chicken wriggled in T's arms. He pressed her soft feathers to his face and whispered, "Easy now, little chicken. Soon. Soon you will get your chance."
The bird answered with a soft cluck that seemed to be echoed faintly from shadows and bushes all around them, like a ghostly foreshadowing of their masterful plan.
"You two do know it's really freaky when you do that, right? Because it's really freaky when you do that," S said from behind them.
The twins turned to him with twin blank expressions.
"Is it? Or is it merely the knowledge of what is to come that scares you, dear Snotman?"
"I'm... Yeah, that's not a hill I'm willing to die on," S decided, and put down the last of the ingredients they requested before retreating after H.
T turned back to their playing field, once again stroking Mother Chicken's feathers. Beside him, his sister cackled again.
All was set.
"Let the Night of Loki... begin!"
"Bucawk!"
Chapter 12: Night of Loki, part 1
Summary:
The future twins are set loose, and their first targets are clear: themselves. Elsewhere, Astrid has her first face-to-face (almost) meeting with the one she's been hunting all this time.
Notes:
Slightly longer chapter today, full of twins mayhem. I tried to cut it down, but those two are uncontainable even in (digital) paper form, so... sorry?
Speaking of, I was checking my statistics, and this is now my longest fic. And we are not even halfway through, only a bit over a quarter chapter-wise, actually. Funny how things change.
Chapter Text
"How did you do that, Hiccup?!"
"C'mon, Hiccup! Share your secrets with us lowly peasants!"
"Hiccup, if you don't stop right now, I swear I'll tackle you!"
Hiccup ducked his head and continued speed-walking away from the arena, hoping to somehow escape the four teens. It reminded him of the days before the Blessings' arrival, when they would chase him around either to question him about the secret to his success, or even before that, to make fun of him for having none.
He wasn't sure which time he missed more at the moment.
"Get over here, Haddock! Just because you caught some lucky breaks in dragon training doesn't mean you can make eyes on my future girlfriend!" Snotlout, who was hot on his heels and red as a tomato, screamed. The twins happily filled the boy in on what happened while he was being chased by the Nadder, which only made him angrier.
Hiccup bit his tongue and sped up as much as he could without breaking into a run, but Snotlout's voice was still coming closer.
Just before he stepped onto the bridge that connected the arena to the village, he felt Snotlout's hand grasping the back of his tunic. He tensed and closed his eyes, silently saying goodbye to his teeth, but just as Snotlout yanked him back, a high-pitched croon froze both boys in place. The twins and Fishlegs, who were right behind Snotlout, didn't stop in time and ran into the two, causing them all to fall on one pile dangerously close to the gaping chasm.
After a moment of general confusion and shoving, the five found themselves staring right into the tiny faces of a small flock of Terrible Terrors. The dragons were lounging right in the middle of the bridge, exposing their soft bellies to the sun. They didn't seem the least bit bothered by the teens watching them, or by the fact they were resting halfway between a village of dragon-hating Vikings and a dragon slaughter ring.
And just like that, Hiccup was completely forgotten.
Snotlout, aggravated by the dragons' apathy, shoved the other teens off and tore his sword from its sheathe.
"Filthy dragons think they can act like the village is theirs? Just you wait! I'll bring all your heads to the Chief and everyone will see this stupid training is below me!" he growled.
Weapon held high, he stepped on the bridge, the wood creaking loudly below him.
All the dragons' heads snapped up... but not towards Snotlout. Towards the village. Hiccup noticed their ears twitching, just like Toothless's did whenever he was listening for something, but other than the whistling of wind, no sounds from the village reached this far.
"What are they--" Before Fishlegs could finish the sentence, the dragons bolted towards the village as fast as if Helheim's gate had opened behind them.
"Hey! My trophies are getting away!" Snotlout screeched and took off after them.
"I'm calling the purple one!" Tuffnut yelled after the Jorgenson.
"Pick up the pace, Fish, before someone else beats us to them!" Ruffnut called as both twins joined the chase.
"B-but shouldn't we alert the Chief first? Guys? G-guys, wait! Oh Thor, this won't end well."
Lamenting under his breath, Fishlegs hurried to catch up with the others, leaving Hiccup alone.
Mildly confused, Hiccup pulled himself up, massaging his left elbow which took the brunt of his fall. He looked after the teens, wondering whether it was worth it to go after them. He was pretty sure the dragons were in no danger of being caught by four barely trained Vikings, but he should probably still stop them from starting a panic.
With a resigned sigh, he went to go after them, but was yet again stopped by a draconic croon.
Looking down, he saw another Terrible Terror that looked suspiciously like the one that escaped from the arena a week before. It was laying right next to where he and the other teens fell, the forest green of its scales blending in with the surrounding grass.
Hiccup glanced around to make sure no one was coming towards him before pulling a bit of dragon nip from his tunic. He crouched down and slowly extended his hand to offer the herb to the dragon. The Terror perked up and carefully sniffed his fingers and what he was holding. Almost immediately, it pressed into them, letting Hiccup scratch its chin and neck, purring loudly at the comfort dragon nip brought.
"Hey there, little guy. How in Thor's name did you and your friends end up on Berk?" Hiccup asked softly.
The dragon mewed happily and leaned into his hand even more. Hiccup felt a smile tug at his lips.
"Well, I can't just leave you here to be found by any passing Viking. But you probably won't be going anywhere without your friends, huh? Being pack dragons and all."
The Terror just continued purring and even climbed along Hiccup's arm, settling on his shoulders and nuzzling into his neck. Even with dragon nip, for a territorial Stoker Class that may have been held captive for years, it was unusually friendly.
"How about we get you and your friends back together and somewhere not inhabited by people looking to turn you into doormats, hmm?"
The dragon looked at him and made an expression akin to grinning, a spark of mischief in its eyes.
Hiccup shook his head in disbelief.
"I swear dragons will never stop surprising me," he muttered and started making his way towards the outskirts of the village, carefully keeping out of sight.
If only he knew how true that sentence was.
...
Berk, being a village with frequent dragon attacks and almost constant Viking crazy, had bizarre sightings on a daily basis. Loose herds of various farm animals, drunk Vikings taking life-threatening dares, and self-proclaimed prophets foretelling the end of the world were just the norm.
As such, the three teenagers creeping through the village with their weapons drawn while searching every nook and cranny only got several weird looks from the passersby, and the occasional fond comment of the 'I remember when we were like that' variety.
"Here, dragons dragons dragons. Here, you nasty little reptiles. Come to Snotlout," Snotlout called in a singsong voice, crouching to look beneath Mulch's house.
"Once I catch one of those dragons, I'm finally gonna get Mom to let me move to the basement. All that open space, and cold, empty stone walls. Just think of all the possibilities!" Tuffnut giggled merrily from behind Snotlout. He and Ruffnut were mirroring each other's movements perfectly while they searched, which would have made for an efficient system if they weren't repeatedly searching the same spots the other had already checked.
"Yeah, I'm gonna get her to move you too. Maybe I'll finally get to sleep without your snoring," Ruffnut said with a smirk.
Tuffnut gasped and whirled at his sister, a hand over his heart.
"Why, excuse you! We both know it's our snoring, and we happen to be quite symphonic."
"True. It's weird that Mom hates it so much."
"It's hard to be so misunderstood by your own flesh and blood."
"Hmm. You still snore louder than me, though."
"I do not!"
"Do too."
"Do not!"
"Do--"
Their bickering was interrupted by Fishlegs finally catching up to them. He was breathless having run all around the village searching for them, and equally frustrated.
"Guys...seriously...we should tell our parents...or someone...or just leave it be...Those dragons are probably long gone...and we're missing nattmal," he panted, his point illustrated by the loud rumbling in his and the twins' stomachs.
Snotlout whirled on them with his sword raised.
"Shut it, Fishface! Just one Terror is my ticket to ditching this ridiculous excuse for dragon training and you pathetic Viking wannabes! None of you muttonheads are going anywhere until we find at least one dragon, and I don't care how much you complain!"
"Uh, rude. I guess we're done here then, because there's one right there," Ruffnut cut him off, pointing towards Arne's house.
The other teens looked up. A bright yellow Terror had indeed perched on the roof of said house and was watching them with its head tilted to the side.
"Wow, how does no one see that thing? Can you believe we call ourselves a village of dragon killers? I mean, it's right there!" Tuffnut said with barely suppressed laughter, but then paused, frowning. "Wait, isn't it bad that a dragon is in the village?"
Snotlout shoved the twins aside with a growl of "Muttonheads." and made his way around the house to look for a way up to the roof. Fishlegs let out a sound somewhere between a whine and a groan.
"Snotlout, stop! Terrible Terrors might be small, but they can be extremely deadly, especially in large numbers. Seriously, is no one listening to me?! We're not ready to hunt wild dragons yet!"
"Don't be such a worrywart, Fish. If people like Mildew can do it, we're more than ready," Ruffnut said, brushing past the boy.
"Yeah, and it's not like anyone's teaching us how to hunt them, so we might as well do it ourselves," Tuffnut agreed with a sage nod.
"That's... what Gobber was doing less than an hour ago-- Guys, no!" Fishlegs let out a slightly hysteric laugh when the twins followed Snotlout again. "Oh, why does no one ever listen to the idea Viking?"
He hurried after the trio while quickly going through the Terror's statistics in his head, but the moment he passed Arne's shed and turned the corner, he almost crashed into the twins who had stopped shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the path. Instinctively, he tried to step back to put some more space between them, only to find that his feet were firmly stuck to the ground.
After a short struggle, he looked down.
Through the growing darkness of the falling night, he could somewhat make out a thick layer of a semi-transparent substance. It didn't look like it could hold him any better than water, but a couple more tries made it obvious that it was on par with the strongest steel in the village.
"What the Hel is this?!" he said and quickly covered his mouth when he realised he just cursed out loud, something he prided himself in not doing.
"I have no idea, but I can't get it off!" Snotlout shouted angrily from somewhere in front of the twins.
Looking over the two, Fishlegs could see the Jorgenson slashing at the ground with his sword, but he only succeeded in getting it stuck as well. Long ropes of the strange substance clung to his legs all the way up to his knees, suggesting he fought his entrapment till the bitter end.
Ruffnut bent over to scoop up a little of the strange substance on her finger. Even that small bit was hard to separate from the larger body, and dragged behind it a long strand that eventually snapped with an audible ping. Ruffnut brought it close to her eyes, inspecting it from every angle, and then handed it to Tuffnut, who smelled it before separating a piece and plopping it into his mouth. Fishlegs cringed and then outright gagged when Ruffnut mirrored his action and they both descended into a moment of thoughtful chewing.
"This seems to be... yak skins and bones, mixed with other animal by-products cooked at an extremely high temperature, by which a certain component within was extracted, thus producing this sticky substance," Tuffnut concluded.
"And it seems to have been placed here for the purpose of holding us in place, at the perfect time to be in the ideal stage of hardening when we ran into it," Ruffnut added, rubbing the remainder of the material between her fingers and watching with interest as it stretched into a thin rope when she brought them apart, rapidly hardening in the process.
Suddenly, both twins tensed, sharing a wide-eyed look.
"This. Means. WAR!" Tuffnut roared while Ruffnut's eyes gained a murderous gleam normally only seen in Astrid's.
"Excuse me, this means what?" Fishlegs asked, yelping when the twins turned to him, their bodies twisting unnaturally to compensate for the fact that they couldn't move their legs.
"Oh, sweet, ignorant Fishlegs. Do you not understand what this means?"
"Gobber's cooking went horribly wrong again and he tried to get rid of the evidence?" Fishlegs offered, wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant odour.
"Someone is trying to Loki us," Ruffnut growled. cracking her knuckles. "Someone thinks they can take our place as Loki's heralds!"
"Oh great, so you're telling me there are more of you lunatics in the village now? Yay us," Snotlout groaned.
"How do neither of you get it?" Tuffnut bristled. "This is an insult of the highest calibre, an attack on the very meaning of our lives! And by Loki, we shall not let it go unpunished. As long as there's blood in my--"
The rest of his sentence was lost in a deep growl that seemed to shake the very air. A wave of hot air smelling of raw fish ruffled the teens' hair.
"Fishlegs, please tell me that's just your stomach complaining again," Snotlout said in a weak voice.
"Umm... no. And before you say it, that didn't sound like a Terrible Terror either," Fishlegs peeped.
There was another growl, and very slowly, a large, menacing shadow appeared around the side of Arne's house. Through the evening dusk, it was hard to see any defining features, but the elongated snout full of sharp teeth, large body with two sail-like appendages folded at its sides, and a long tail lashing behind it made it easy to guess what it was.
"I-is that a... a M-M-Monstrous--"
The shadow crept forward, letting the light of the lantern above Arne's door reveal the red, scaly form of a large, and to the teens unfortunately quite familiar, dragon.
"Monstrous Nightmare!" the four screamed in unison, just as the dragon let out another thundering growl.
Spurred by a will to survive stronger than he'd felt ever before, Fishlegs started desperately clawing his way out of the sticky trap. He managed to grab hold of a young pine sapling growing just outside the puddle of glue and started dragging himself out with more force than he'd ever been able to exert in dragon training.
He was almost out when he felt something grab the back of his tunic.
"Come on, Fishlegs, you can do it! You can save us!" Tuffnut's voice cheered before he could panic thinking the dragon got him.
"Yeah, come on, big fella! Lift with your legs! ...or pull with your arms, I guess!" Ruffnut joined in.
"How am I supposed to do that with you two on my back?" he screeched hysterically and tried shaking them off, but the twins were quite literally stuck to him.
Unfortunately, the weight of three people proved too much for the tree and its roots sprang out of the ground, sending a spray of dirt into Fishlegs's face. His only luck was that before it gave out, he managed to drag his upper body outside the puddle, otherwise he would be entirely stuck.
Adrenaline still high, he dug his fingers into the ground and continued dragging himself away, his legs still entrapped in the sticky cocoon and the two Thorstons on his back.
Snotlout wasn't as fortunate. Like the twins, he tried to grab onto Fishlegs, but only succeeded in falling and getting his side and arms also stuck in the semi-hardened substance. The dragon moved again, bearing down on Snotlout as the boy struggled to escape. Its jaws opened, the fire brewing in its throat illuminating the area in a nightmarish glow.
"Y-you don't scare me, dragon! I'm a Jorgenson, you hear me?! A Jorgenson! You should fear me!" Snotlout yelled at the towering beast. He searched the ground for his sword and managed to grab the handle, but the glue holding it down had hardened so much by then that it didn't even budge.
"I-I said I'm not scared! I'm not scared! I'm not scaAAAAAAA!" his chant faded into a scream when the Nightmare's head shot towards him, tiny flames licking its maw.
"Snotlout!" Fishlegs yelled, but there was nothing he could do except continue the struggle for his and the twins' freedom.
Snotlout instinctively shut his eyes and just continued screaming, expecting sharp teeth and claws to rip into him any second. Valhalla would welcome its greatest warrior that day!
It wasn't until his throat became sore that he realised he wasn't, in fact, dead.
His scream died off and he very carefully peeked up at the dragon.
It seemed completely frozen in place, with its jaws almost touching Snotlout's nose. Its fire had completely died out, leaving just a lifeless husk without even a sign of breathing.
Then its entire head started shaking, rattling and creaking like an old chair, and finally, a yellow Terrible Terror climbed out of its jaws. It sneezed out a plume of smoke and then gifted Snotlout with an ear-piercing shriek before flapping away to join its friend on Arne's roof.
The four teens remained frozen in shock for a good minute.
The Nightmare hadn't moved throughout all of it, and upon closer inspection, it became obvious something wasn't quite right about it. As the adrenaline and fear wore off, the teens could see the creature looked more like a hurriedly constructed, supersized children's toy than an actual dragon, with strangely jagged edges and twisted limbs. The scales weren't as shiny or vibrant in color as the trophies from raids, and its teeth looked more like steel than dentine.
When it made no move to try and devour Snotlout, the boy started fighting to escape the trap again, working as quickly as he could in case it came back to life.
A few minutes of struggling later, the glue finally dried fully, which also made it somewhat brittle, enough for him to finally rip himself free. He stood up, extremely sore from lying in such a contorted position for so long. Layers of glue still clung to his skin and clothing, making his body feel heavy and slow.
The twins and Fishlegs were long free of the trap, but were still trying to separate themselves. The glue was holding them firmly together, and Tuffnut, who was stuck upside-down, was starting to look a little red in the face.
"A little help here, Snotlout? Or do you need to wait for the dragon to try and eat your ass again first?" Ruffnut called to him sarcastically.
Though his eyes never left the unmoving Nightmare, Snotlout went over to help pull the three apart. Don't get him wrong, he was prepared to bolt at any second, but he thought giving the dragon more targets to chase would give him a better chance to get away.
Finally, with a loud ripping sound that definitely meant Fishlegs' tunic would need some patchwork, the three were separated.
The sun had fully set by then, drowning everything in darkness and making the unmoving silhouette of the dragon even more horrifying. Snotlout cautiously crept over to the lantern on Arne's house and with it in hand waded back to the stationary dragon.
The other three joined him -- albeit still at a safe distance -- just as the light fully illuminated the creature's head for the first time.
It was a wooden carving. In fact, Fishlegs was quite sure it was the one his mother made that should be hanging in the Great Hall.
Snotlout raised the lantern higher, revealing the rest of the dragon to be no more real than the head. A single curious push from Ruffnut was enough for the entire creature to collapse into a pile on the ground.
Snotlout kicked it angrily, further deforming it.
"This isn't a dragon! It's just a pile of junk painted red and held together with that weird stuff we were stuck in... Is that Gobber's peg leg? And-- Ew! Did it have to have real eyes?"
"Of course it did! I'll have you know realism is important, mister!" Tuffnut protested, sounding genuinely insulted.
Except the voice didn't come from said twin. When they turned to him, he seemed the most surprised and confused they'd ever seen him, and both he and his sister were wildly looking around to find the source of the voice.
The voice spoke again, this time hushed and incoherent and mixed with another, followed by a slap and a yelp of pain. Strangely enough, the speakers seemed to be talking straight from the sky.
"I hope it's not a ghost. I hate ghosts. They always make your stuff fly all over the place," Ruffnut whispered, her brother giving an agreeing nod.
"Um, it might have actually been better if it was a ghost," Fishlegs whispered, pointing to the roof where the two Terrors sat.
The dragons were gone, replaced with the silhouettes of two small Vikings. The moon was right behind them, making them little more than indistinct outlines, but it was still obvious they were watching them.
"Uh, I don't want to jump to any conclusions but did those dragons just transform into humans?" Ruffnut asked slowly, her voice sounding more perplexed than scared.
Tuffnut threw his hands up with a victorious cheer. "Lycanwings! I knew it! They called me crazy, but I knew--"
"Will you take this seriously for five seconds?!" Snotlout snapped.
He turned back to the two figures, waving his sword at them with far more bravery than he felt at the moment.
"Hey, you freaks! I am Snotlout Jorgenson, the greatest warrior on Berk! Come down here and show your faces so you can die with some honour!"
The two didn't move, and a sound akin to snickering reached the teens. Snotlout scoffed, glad the darkness was hiding his embarrassed blush.
"Pah, no one respects authority anymore! Does anyone see a ladder--"
One of the figures stepped forward, raising something that looked like a large ball of cotton above their head. That ball promptly sprouted a tiny head and two wings and let out a loud crow, making the teens flinch.
"Is... is that a chicken?" Fishlegs asked incredulously, but failed to hide how he jumped when the figure started yelling at the top of their lungs.
"Rise, my army of feathered fiends! Rise! Riiiiiiiiise!"
The four Vikings traded confused looks as another cotton-ball-looking shape appeared on the roof.
And then another two.
And another ten.
And slowly, the mass of chickens grew so large that it became impossible to distinguish one animal from another. It was like a large fluffy cloud had taken roost on Arne's roof.
One of the figures pointed at the teens, and all at once, the chickens went quiet. Fishlegs could swear he could see their tiny black eyes watching them through the darkness.
"What do we do?" he asked shakily.
"Do not worry, my meaty friend!" Tuffnut said, stepping to the forefront. "I am fluent in Chicken, and their well-known ally. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Hey, chickens! Buk buk buk ba-caw? Ca-caw?"
The chickens paused, like a great black wave about to drown them. It almost seemed as if they were confused. Their shining black eyes turned to the two figures again.
A few silent seconds later, the figure holding the first chicken said two simple, horrifyingly calm words.
"Get them."
The mass of birds churned, rose so high it obscured the entire moon, and then, with a terrible war cry made up entirely of chicken sounds, descended on them.
Snotlout stepped back.
"What's the plan n--"
"RUN!" Tuffnut screamed over his shoulder, he and Ruffnut already sprinting away.
One more look at the swarm was enough for the other two to hightail it after them. None of them were eager to find out what would happen if they got caught in the wave of feathers and sharp beaks.
"What do we do?! What do we do?! What do we do?!" Fishlegs repeated hysterically, yelping when one of the chickens nipped at his heel.
"How would I know? I'm an expert dragon killer, not poultry herder!" Snotlout screamed back.
"Being chased by angry mobs happens quite often in our way of life, but they are usually more human," Ruffnut remarked, strangely calm despite their situation.
"That doesn't help us!" Snotlout and Fishlegs snapped in unison.
They ran past a few other houses and through several sharp turns, and finally, they saw light again, emanating from two large braziers lining the stairs to the Great Hall.
"There! There's got to be someone that can help us!"
But before they were even halfway to the staircase, a new wall of cotton-ball shadows blocked their way.
"But... but how?" Snotlout whined when they yet again had to run in the other direction.
"Come on, we can get to the Chief's house past the farms!" Tuffnut called.
But when they got there, they were yet again cut off, and then again every time they thought they found a way deeper into the village. It seemed like anywhere they went, the chickens always found a way ahead of them and cut them off, forcing them to zigzag blindly through the outskirts of Berk.
They made almost a full circle around the village when the patter of bird feet finally grew more distant. The village plaza came into view, and with it the light from the torch of a passing guard.
Thinking they were saved, Snotlout put on a burst of speed and prepared to call out to the guard, when the ground beneath his feet suddenly vanished, leaving him to plummet into darkness. His surprised shout transformed into a scream that was cut off almost immediately when he hit the bottom of the hole. He went to pick himself up, but was sent back down when the other three teens crashed on top of him in a tangle of limbs.
"Ouch! What have you muttonheads been eating? The leftover metal from Gobber's porch?" he groaned.
"Marinated yak dung, actually. It's quite tasty when you let it rest enough, but it does leave you slightly gassy," Tuffnut said.
"Shh! Listen," Fishlegs hushed them, stopping their struggle to free themselves.
At first, all they could hear was the rustle of wind, but then it grew louder.
And louder.
And it became obvious that it wasn't wind, but the sound of a mountain of feathers.
"They found us," Fishlegs whispered.
The teens started pushing and shoving each other, trying to find a way out, but all that did was tangle them up more. Snotlout had just managed to get his head to the top when the light of the moon above faded. The walls grew taller as an inconceivable amount of chickens surrounded their newest prison.
"Sister, whatever happens now, I want you to know that your socks smell almost as bad as Gobber's," Tuffnut said, earning himself Ruffnut's offended squawk.
The chickens leaned in as one, their feathered bodies almost completely blocking out the opening, and just as Fishlegs was wondering whether domesticated birds eat humans, a sharp whistle caused all the birds to look at something outside.
Then, like a chunk of salt dropped in water, the living mountain crumbled. One by one, the chickens vanished from view, only the quiet pitter-patter of their feet confirming that what the teens saw was indeed a mass uprising of the village poultry and not some group hallucination.
As the last chicken waddled away, an awkward silence came over the four teens.
"So, uh... anyone got an idea to get us out of here?" Fishlegs asked shyly. He was the one closest to freedom, but his limbs were far too tangled with his fellow trainees' to allow him to get out.
"Obviously not. Whoever designed this trap made it just the perfect size for us to be completely stuck," Ruffnut's voice sounded from somewhere in the leftmost side of the hole. "And I have to say, I have never seen anyone in the Loki'ing field prepare so many traps and have them connect in such a seamless way, not even a Nut. Whoever planned this is a Loki mastermind. And they used their talent on us, the official Loki heralds! Can you believe the audacity?"
"It's utterly and unequivocally unforgivable, my dear sister! I have never been this furious and vindictive... but also strangely jealous and inspired, almost humbled, really. Like I hate them but also want to be them when I grow up," Tuffnut said, his voice coming from a bit more towards the middle and significantly deeper.
"Yeah, I feel it too. Oh gods... do you think this is what admiration feels like?" Ruffnut's asked, horrified.
Snotlout felt Tuffnut shrug below him.
"Not sure, too much else going on for proper analysis. Let me get back to you on that when my arm isn't dislocated anymore."
Despite Fishlegs's leg currently trying to force Snotlout's stomach out of his body, the Jorgenson let out an irritated growl.
"Muttonheads," he grumbled just as the light of a torch and the sound of voices reached into the hole.
On the roof above, R and T watched with satisfaction as their avian allies dispersed among the houses and disappeared into the darkness. The leader of the flock, through the inexplicable power of Chicken, made her way up the roof and safely back to T's arms.
Below them, the aggravated voices of the trapped teens started rising from the hole and quickly attracted the attention of the passing guard that caused the twins to call off their attack force early.
"Well, sister, I'd say this was a smashing success. This should give the others more than enough time to finish their part of the plan," T said, petting Mother Chicken gently.
R nodded. "Right you are, brother. Perhaps we've even shown our younger selves how to avoid mishaps such as the freak mutton accident of last Snoggletog. Though I do wish our fun could have lasted longer. These young, innocent souls are such satisfying targets."
"Weeeell, technically H didn't say we had to stop with Loki'ing only ourselves..." T drawled, his lips curling up in a conspirative smirk.
The twins shared a look.
"I'm calling dibs on Spitelout!" T shouted before diving headfirst from the roof, Mother Chicken squawking in surprise in his arms.
"Hey, no fair! You got him last time!" R yelled after him, but only got mischievous cackling in response.
Just as she was about to jump from the roof after him, she paused and looked back to the hole with the trapped teens.
"Huh, I could have sworn there were supposed to be more of them down there," she mumbled to herself. After a moment, she shrugged and hurried after her brother. "Eh, probably just the dark."
Not five minutes later, their combined cry of "Loki'd!" carried through the night for the first time of many that night, accompanied by the initially terrified and later increasingly angry shouts of a steadily growing number of Berkians.
Astrid sprinted through the village, the pain in her legs and cramping of the hand gripping her axe all lost in the promise of finally succeeding in her hunt.
She'd left the arena far behind as her chase led her deep into the village. Vikings jumped out of her way, some yelling curses after her or asking where she was going, but she could barely hear them through the roaring in her ears.
She hadn't seen the Terror nor the girl again, but every time she lost their trail, a dragon's quiet call, the patter of small feet, or a flash of blue scales or blond hair led her back on the right path.
The part of her brain that wasn't fully overtaken by bloodlust screamed at her that they'd been going in circles for too long, that it didn't make sense for the duo to not escape her fully or to even show themselves in the first place, but the realisation of what that meant stayed unformed in the back of her head. She was seeing red and there was only one goal in her mind; to finally prove to everyone that she was right.
No more chasing shadows. No more talk of Odin's Blessings. Today, she would finally put an end to those monsters' charade.
After a few more turns, she made it to the stairway that led towards the Great Hall. A growing crowd of Vikings heading to nattmal filled the plaza with a restless river of bodies, and just on the other side of it, hiding in the shadow of the forge, Astrid finally saw the girl again.
She gripped her axe tighter and started pushing her way through the crowd. It didn't even cross her mind to ask one of the many Vikings that bumped into her for help.
This was her hunt.
By the time she made it to the other side, the girl had vanished again, but Astrid caught a glimpse of the Terror's head peeking out from behind the Chief's house, almost like it was looking for something. When the dragon saw her, it stuck out its tongue, spread its wings, and bolted towards the distant forest.
'Oh, no you don't!'
Ignoring the increasing burning in her lungs, Astrid picked up speed again, and passed the first trees just seconds after the dragon. The lights and sounds from the village slowly faded until the forest fully engulfed her. The trodden paths and short grass of the village were replaced with the uneven forest floor, littered with branches and rocks, and Astrid found herself stumbling more and more in the growing twilight.
After another hour or so of the increasingly frustrating chase, she came to a stop in an area with large boulders scattered throughout the trees. She vaguely recognized it as one of the places she tracked Hiccup to before all this craziness.
Here her legs finally gave out and she collapsed against one boulder, her lungs desperately trying to prevent her from leaving to Valhalla right then and there.
How could that demon be so fast in such a small body? Or was Astrid somehow out of shape after just a week without her usual training regime?
When her breathing calmed and her vision grew clear again, she looked around. There was absolutely no sign of the girl or dragon, no footprints, broken branches, not even trampled grass, and no more glimpses to show her the way.
With the adrenaline from the chase slowly wearing off, Astrid realised how late it had gotten. The sun had set and the sky was dotted with stars. The only reason she could still somewhat see was the pale light of the waxing moon.
The trees were quiet, no wind or wildlife rustling their branches, and it gave the forest an eerie feel. A distant roar had her reaching for the handle of her axe.
Was the child an illusion from the start? A trick by some evil spirit, or even Loki himself to lure her here and... what? Kill her? Kidnap her? Brainwash her like the others?
She gulped and pushed down the fear that was trying to crawl to the surface. Whoever or whatever it was, she wouldn't make their plans easy for them.
For the longest time, nothing happened, and Astrid stood there like a statue, waiting for... something.
Anything.
"Astrid."
She would never willingly admit it, but at the eerie whisper of her name, she just barely kept herself from screaming. Axe now held protectively over her chest, she pressed her back against the boulder she had been leaning on, eyes trying to pierce the darkness that suddenly seemed much more hostile.
"Astrid," the voice whispered again, this time sounding closer.
"Who's there?!" Astrid barked into the looming shadows. "Show yourself!"
There was no answer, only quiet rustling in the trees that had until then been quiet... and the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
"What do you want from me?" she tried again, ignoring how her voice was just a breath away from a whimper.
The rustling abruptly stopped.
With a quiet hiss, a pair of large yellow eyes with tiny slits for pupils blinked at her from the darkness. Astrid barely stopped herself from throwing her axe at them.
The voice spoke again, even closer, but from a different place than the eyes were at. The single sentence sent shivers down Astrid's spine.
"You and I have to talk, Astrid Hofferson."
Chapter 13: Words Between Us (Old and New)
Summary:
The riders' plan continues as H and S sneak into the forge to create the Terrors' saddles and (unintentionally) to have a talk that has been long overdue. In the forest, Astrid confronts -- or more like is confronted by -- the demon, and it seems to know a little too much about her.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"There! That's the twins' signal!" S whispered, pointing at the yellow Terrible Terror that appeared above the forge, circled the chimney twice, and then flew off again.
"All right. Let's go before the next patrol comes by," H whispered back.
The two climbed out of their hiding spot and quickly made their way into the forge. The rush to nattmal hadn't begun yet, so except a close call with a passing guard, they managed to sneak in undetected.
Everything inside, from the soot-covered furniture to the tools laid haphazardly about, was just like H remembered, albeit three times bigger. It felt comforting to stand there again, in the place where he spent most of his childhood and early teens, but at the same time also strangely foreign. Many of the tools and workstations were without the upgrades he added over the years or missing altogether, and the dragon-killing equipment piled in corners made his skin crawl.
He got the forge started and as he waited for it to properly heat up, he crawled underneath one of the many tables overflowing with damaged weapons, tools, and armour and pulled out an old stool with countless dents and burn marks.
Oh, the memories he had with this one piece of furniture; He was pretty sure he forged his old knife, the one that was now at the bottom of the Cove's lake, while standing on it. It was one of his father's early gifts that was actually useful to him. He still remembered when Stoick brought the handmade stool inside the forge, only a few days after little Hiccup first became Gobber's apprentice and it became clear that he couldn't keep climbing on nearby equipment to reach things.
Shaking off the bittersweet memories, H laid out the plans he and F worked out the night before and quickly got to work. The clanking of hammer on metal and the smell of the fire immediately made him feel more at ease.
S, on the other hand, was unusually tense.
As soon as they arrived, he settled by the window next to the door, ready to warn H in case anyone approached the forge. He was strangely quiet, and when H glanced up from his work, he saw that his cousin could barely stay still. He kept bouncing on the soles of his feet, hand never leaving the pommel of the sword he got off Johann, both a tick of his whenever he was feeling nervous.
H watched him from the corner of his eye as he heated a pair of metal rods in the forge.
After a while, he asked, "All right, what's wrong?"
"Wrong? What do you mean wrong? Nothing's wrong," S retorted, but refused to look at him.
H sighed.
"S, you haven't said a word in the past fifteen minutes. You're not complaining about not going with the twins, about being bored, or about being on guard duty. And you always complain about being on guard duty."
"Well, maybe I've just started liking guard duty," S hissed, finally turning to him.
H raised an eyebrow and continued to hammer the metal.
"You're sulking. I haven't seen you like this since the twins ditched you on morning patrol back at the Edge."
S glowered even harder at that.
"You have no idea what it's like to fly a hangry Monstrous Nightmare through a snow storm, H. And if you have to know, I don't really see a reason to be cheery when we're still missing our dragons and stuck in the past, in the bodies of babies, and could be killed at any moment by our own people, while Thor knows what happens back home!"
The two stared at each other for a few more moments before S huffed and looked away again, his ears reddening slightly.
"Ugh, fine! So I'm a little worried or whatever!" he growled.
H hummed, focusing on removing one of the rods from the fire. He knew the only way to talk with his cousin was to let him decide how much he wanted to say.
For a few minutes, only the sound of hammer on steel could be heard, until S spoke again, quieter.
"It's just... I haven't seen Hookfang for almost two weeks now. We haven't been apart for so long since we got stranded on Outcast Island, and that was years ago. I keep wondering where he ended up. What if he's really time travelled with us and the dragon hunters captured him? Or what if he's stranded on some faraway island and forgets how to get food? My dragon could starve out there!"
"I doubt that. Monstrous Nightmares are the best fishers outside Tidal Class dragons. If anything, he'd be getting food for the other dragons," H said, but S wasn't listening.
"And even if he is still back in our time, he and the other dragons must be looking all over for us! There's not telling who or what they could run into out there. And what if this was all someone's plan to get us out of the way so they could conquer Berk? Everyone would be in danger, and we could do nothing!" S punctuated the last sentence by punching the wall in frustration. The impact, which would have once splintered the wood, made nothing more than a dull thump in his child body.
That finally took the steam out of him and he slumped against the window, breathing heavily. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung low.
H didn't see him like this often, and frankly... it scared him.
He jumped down from the stool, carefully holding the reshaped, still red-hot metal in the blacksmith tongs, and quenched his creation in the slack tub. A cloud of steam rose from it along with loud hissing, and he waited for it to stop while thinking about how best to reassure his cousin.
"I get why you're worried," he started slowly, afraid of making S withdraw again. "The only times Toothless and I were apart like this was whenever one of us was captured. I have to keep reminding myself that he's not in any danger... hopefully."
The water stopped bubbling and he set both things down on the table and straightened, his joints popping loudly. He wiped his hands on a piece of cloth and walked over to where S was staring at the rapidly darkening sky, stretching on the way to ease the cramping in his muscles. It was a good thing the metal parts he needed for the harnesses were few and on the smaller side, since his tiny body wasn't used to this kind of labour yet.
"I'm sure the others feel the same way too, and they all deal with it in their own way. You've seen how quiet the twins are, how much more reckless A's gotten, and F barely does anything except look for a way back."
"And you?" S couldn't help but ask.
"Me?"
H paused and thought for a bit. It was hard to critique his own behaviour, more so since he also had to deal with the presence of his should-be-dead father.
Finally, he said, "I keep reminding myself that first and foremost, I'm doing this for you guys, for our dragons, and for our Berk. I keep moving forward. But you have to find your own way to cope, S. If you want to punch something, punch away, if you need to talk, we'll be there to listen, and if you want to be alone, just say the word and we'll give you space. I need you -- all of you -- with me on this, just like back home. So let's focus on finding a way back to our time and trust the dragons to take care of themselves, and that Dagur and Heather are with them and keeping them out of trouble, all right?"
"Are we thinking about the same Dagur?" S asked with a small smirk, but seemed to at least be mulling H's words over.
For a few moments, the two time travelers simply stood side by side, silently watching at the stars drifted in and out of view through the clouds overhead.
"Hiccup?" the Jorgenson started quietly. "We will find a way back home, right? We'll get back to our time and get our dragons back and everything will be normal again, right?"
H looked at his cousin and could swear his eyes were shining, though it was hard to tell in the evening dusk. He glanced at the stars again and pushed back all his own uncertainties to pull together a reassuring smile.
"We will. No matter how long it takes, no matter how many dead ends we hit, we'll find it. I promise."
S closed his eyes and took a deep breath before nodding slightly. When he opened them again, all signs of tears were gone.
"Good, because your mom would kill me if I didn't bring you home in one piece. She tells me to keep you safe way too often, you know? Like I'm the one riding the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself."
The two chuckled at the shared memory of Valka standing over S with an axe and a murderous glint in her eye.
"Well, it is kind of your job now that you're the War Chief of Berk's armed forces. You can't get away with only getting fired out of catapults and harassing my sanity anymore," H reminded him teasingly.
S rolled his eyes and shoved him away, nearly toppling him over. Unlike almost everything else, that hadn't changed since they were kids.
"But seriously, thanks, Snotlout," H continued when he steadied himself, reaching over to clasp his cousin's shoulder, "for having my back, both back home and here. When we were kids, I never dreamed of things ending up like this, but I couldn't be happier they did."
S didn't look at him, but his lips curled into a small smile, far more sincere than the overblown grins from their childhood. Then that smile faded, showing a strange unease.
Slowly, he squeezed out, "Look, Hiccup... I know I never told you this but... I'm sorry. For how I acted back then -- or, right now, I guess. You didn't deserve me being such an ass to you."
H's eyebrows rose at the unexpected apology. S looked even more uncomfortable now, fiddling with the edge of his tunic and pointedly looking outside.
H's past was a touchy topic, one the riders tended to avoid. The others never outright apologised to H for how they acted before, they just kind of... became friends. Apologies were made through actions and all was eventually forgiven. It had been years since H held anything from their childhood against any of them, but it seemed like S had been beating himself up about it for a while.
"That's... unexpected coming from you, Snotlout. What's with the sudden self-awareness?"
S shot him a glare.
"Oh, come on, Hiccup, you know I'm not good at this talking stuff. I didn't exactly come here to talk to you about feelings. But that first night in the Great Hall... it got me thinking. Seeing the fishbone you used to be and remembering how we acted... I guess I just can't understand why you still accepted us as friends and dragon riders after all that. Especially me. I mean... I was really a jerk, wasn't I?"
H blinked a couple times but then smiled, which seemed to surprise the other boy.
"Yeah, you were, but... I was used to it," he whispered, not quite realising that statement didn't make it any better. "Snotlout, dragon riding wouldn't be the same without you. Sure, we have our ups and downs and almost get each other killed... a lot, but that's only because we stand by each other in whatever crazy scheme one of us cooks up. I don't see that bratty kid from six years ago next to me anymore, I see one of my best friends, my War Chief, and the man I would trust my safety to over any other -- Even if you do set yourself on fire a bit too often for a dragon rider. What matters to me is that you and the others decided to stick with me through all these years, not some squabbles we had a decade ago."
S looked down, clenching and unclenching his fists. If H didn't know better, he would say he was once again fighting tears.
"So... it's all in the past?" he asked hesitantly.
H's smile widened.
"Always has been."
S breathed a huge sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as if a heavy weight was lifted off them. Then he shook his head and H knew that the heart-to-heart was over.
"Odin's beard, that was worse than any fight we've been in!" S groaned, running his hands across his face. "I don't know how you guys manage to apologise every time you do something stupid, Well, what are you still standing around for? Go finish those saddles so we can go home already! I'm not getting any younger over here! Or... at least I don't think I am..." He paused and quickly stretched out his hand, trying to gauge whether his fingers had gotten any shorter.
H snorted and resisted doing the same. After all that happened to their group in the past few days, continuous de-aging seemed like a valid concern, but he was pretty sure they would have noticed it already.
He returned to his work, strangely enough feeling lighter than before. S also looked calmer, although that meant that he soon started his usual bored grumbling. Ever so often, he would alert H to patrolling guards or Vikings passing them on their way to the Great Hall, and they both quickly hid, ready to make a hasty escape if needed. Luckily, no one ever entered the forge nor questioned the light coming from it. Hiccup was known for staying in the forge late, after all.
At one point, S saw A sprint by. The girl sent him a small wave before disappearing in the darkness, and seconds later, her younger self appeared, forging forward with a single-minded purpose and a murderous glare.
S wasn't sure what A had planned, but he was glad he was in neither of the Hoffersons' shoes.
As H was finishing up, instead of their signal, S spoke again, his voice slightly choked.
"So, uh, you know how we told the twins they could borrow the Terrors if they kept them under control?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, from now on, let's not trust those two muttonheads with anything but unorthodox defences," S finished in a dejected voice moments before a thunder of Terrible Terrors flew in through the window, bowling him over.
"I feel like we should have expected this," H sighed as the Terrors converged around the two of them, greeting them with cuddles and friendly nibbling, and eagerly inspecting what H was working on.
With annoyed hisses, S fought his way out of the swarm and quickly shut the window before someone could notice the commotion. H meanwhile did his best to get the dragons under control, but they mostly ignored him because of the many things that they wanted to investigate.
"Perfect. What do we do? How in Hel's demise are we supposed to get all of these guys through the village unseen?"
H shooed away a Terror that was trying to chew on the newly created harness, and shook his head dejectedly.
"It's dark," he said, feeling extremely tired. "Terrors are innately sneaky, so hopefully they'll do most of the work for us. But if they're here, that means the twins' distraction is over or at least lost momentum. We have to hurry and leave while we can. Can you find something we can carry this stuff in while I clean up?"
S nodded and started digging through the smithy's chests while H did his best to hide their traces. After a surprisingly long while, S returned with a very oversized sack in hand.
"It was either this or a wheelbarrow," he said at H's questioning look. "Don't think Gobber planned for baby time travelers making dragon gear when he stocked this place up."
H groaned, but started stuffing the harness inside the bag. Just as he was tying it up, the door was suddenly flung open and all the dragons along with H and S froze. Hiccup's scrawny figure slipped through the door and hurriedly shut it again before pressing an ear against it.
Neither of the time travelers dared to move a muscle.
Then, something on Hiccup's shoulders moved, and the two were surprised to see Sharpshot perched there. The Terror gave them a toothy dragon grin and stretched his wings out a little, conveniently blocking younger Hiccup's view of them just long enough for S to drag the petrified H under the nearest table.
Leaning away from the door, Hiccup let out a sigh and walked straight to said table while whispering something to Sharpshot.
H and S shared a look.
'I am going to kill the twins,' S mouthed, perfectly voicing H's thoughts.
Astrid kept her breathing even and her axe pointed at the darkness, ready to strike. The yellow eyes kept hovering in the same spot, watching her every move.
The voice had been silent for a while, as if it was expecting some sort of an answer from her. Astrid didn't want to play whatever game this demon had lured her into -- It was bad enough already that she fell for its tricks in the first place -- but it didn't look like she had a choice.
Mustering up all her courage, she drew herself to her full height and stared defiantly into the unblinking eyes.
"Sorry, but we Hoffersons tend not to talk to demons and pretenders. We prefer to fight them," she bit out, pleased that her voice didn't waver.
A small chuckle caused her to jump a little. The eyes disappeared and it was tense couple seconds before they blinked back to existence more to the left and significantly higher.
"Oh, I'm no demon or pretender, Astrid. In fact, you know me quite well... and I know you even better than you know yourself."
Astrid felt goosebumps on her arms. Did Loki, or whoever this demon was, have her followed? For how long? How much did it know about her?
Before she could laugh it off or otherwise deflect, the voice continued, "I know a lot about you, Astrid -- almost everything, really. I know you train longer and harder than everyone else, because that is the only way you see to prove yourself. I know you lost your father's favourite axe when you were eight and spent hours secretly watching Hiccup in the forge so you could make a new one. I know you hate trout, but you eat it anyways because it makes your mother happy. I know you think that if you won't follow exactly in your ancestors' footsteps, you'll become a disappointment... And I also know that you're smart enough to figure out there's more to dragons than you've been told, you're just afraid to admit it because it would mean those very ancestors were wrong."
Astrid suppressed a shiver. No matter what, she refused to make it seem like the voice was getting to her.
Except it was.
Sure, some of what it said -- such as her training harder than the other teens -- was common knowledge in the village, but her reasons for it weren't nearly as known. The thing with trout? It may have seemed insignificant, but she had never told it to anyone. And while her father probably told his friends over a tankard of ale about how his daughter tried to pass her crudely made axe for the one he'd been using for years, exactly how she learned to make it was something not even he knew.
And the last sentence... that... it was just plain ridiculous! Thoughts like that were just delirious inner rants that wormed their way inside her mind when she was laying exhausted on the training field! She would never allow herself to consider them as anything more than delusions born from fatigue!
And the fact the voice knew even that didn't make it better.
"Y-you're wrong! That's not what I... I am a warrior of Berk! I would never think those things!" she growled towards the voice, which sighed in response.
"You're a clever girl, Astrid, and you'll be one of those who will shape the future of Berk. If you want that future to be brighter than the past, you'll have to start accepting that not everything those before you believed is true."
The eyes blinked for the first time, making Astrid flinch.
"No!" she managed to retort, though it didn't sound nearly as confident as before. "Dragons... dragons are vicious animals that kill our families, burn our homes, and steal our food! It's not some myth or an old wives' tale, it happens all the time, right in front of our eyes!"
"But does an animal attack without reason? If the dragons mainly eat fish, why take so much livestock? Even a wolf pack goes after the easiest target, so why don't the dragons go after wildlife when they lose so many during every raid? They attack regardless of weather, or season, or time. Doesn't that sound more like the actions of a warrior being hunted than one that is the hunter?"
Astrid shook her head, but could feel doubts creeping up from the deepest recesses of her mind.
"No... no, they're not... they're dragons! They..."
"Astrid, I know you've asked yourself these questions before. If you can just look past your hate, past what you've been taught, you'll see how nonsensical this war is. You have the skills needed to look for its true cause, so use them! Our honour shouldn't come at the cost of an entire species being hunted to extinction."
Astrid's grip on her axe slackened.
"W-well... I mean, I... did wonder--"
With a start, all of her thoughts came screeching to a halt as the full span of the voice's last sentence registered with her.
"...What do you mean our honour?"
The voice went quiet and Astrid felt like a fog had been lifted from her brain.
That was close... and foolish. A true Hofferson should know better than to give in so easily. Clearly she still had a long way to go... and taking down the demon was a good first step.
"Astrid--" the voice started again, but this time she ignored its words. The darkness surrounding her seemed to grow less dense, allowing her to spot a small silhouette crouching in the branches of a nearby pine tree.
Astrid's axe flew out like Thor's lightning, and a startled yell tore through the air as something crashed through the canopy along with the branch she just cut off. The yellow eyes, now clearly belonging to the turquoise Terrible Terror, finally left Astrid when the dragon rushed to the fallen figure's side. Astrid could now clearly see the moonlight reflecting off the blade of a toy axe, the smooth blue scales of that unusual armour, and the small braid of blond hair that had been taunting her throughout the chase.
She came to stand in front of the figure, breathing heavy with rage. Large, pale blue eyes, fearless and defiant, looked back at her.
The child she saw wasn't an illusion.
Astrid wasn't sure whether that surprised her or not, but it definitely made her angrier.
Without an axe to brandish, she tore her knife from its sheathe and pointed it at the child's chest. The girl barely moved, but the Terror wrapped itself around her shoulders like at the arena and hissed at Astrid in warning.
Astrid ignored it.
She had questions, many, many questions, but it started with a very simple one.
"Who are you?"
The child stood up, pointedly dusting herself off as if the knife hovering in front of her chest was a dull toy. Something about the way she carried herself tugged at Astrid's memory -- The same graceful defiance being reflected in the large eyes of an approaching dragon, on the blade of her first axe, perfectly captured on a drawing in her mother's room.
She pushed it all away.
She wouldn't be fooled twice.
"I won't ask again," she growled and pressed the tip of the knife against the child's chest.
The girl stared at her, seemingly weighing her options, while gently stroking the Terror's back to calm its angry hisses. Astrid tried to ignore that strange display of familiarity and the way the dragon's growl slowly changed into a purr. It was nothing more than the beast's attraction to a fellow demon.
Then the girl's eyes flew upwards and she smirked.
"Try and find out."
Astrid spun around to where the child was looking, but all she saw was a glob of semi-transparent substance flying straight at her. Before she could even think of moving out of the way, it hit her with the force of a charging yak, knocking her to the ground and completely obscuring her sight.
"LOKI'D!" came a very familiar twin shout from the trees, followed by the thudding of running feet and equally familiar cackling.
Astrid made a grab for the girl when she heard her running past, but her fingers only swiped through thin air. She cursed and struggled to her feet, trying to get the substance out of her eyes, but it stuck to her like honey and smelled worse than the village on boot night. She was pretty sure her knife cut through skin before the stuff trapping her ripped the weapon away, but she doubted whatever wound she possibly inflicted was deep enough to immobilise the demon.
Sure enough, by the time she managed to rid herself of enough of the substance to see again, the girl was gone, and so were the originators of said substance.
Not that it was any mystery who those originators were.
As she furiously wiped globs of goo from her clothes, her anger returned tenfold, but it wasn't the same blinding rage as before. It was a deep simmering fury that allowed her to keep her wits about her.
Too bad for the twins, since that meant she could now properly plan out the best, most painful punishment for helping the child escape, however unintentional it may have been.
Having to search for her axe only fanned the flame. She should be in the village already, showing people the children's true faces and receiving the due honour in return, but instead she was stuck here in the dark, scouring the forest floor for her weapon with nothing but word of mouth as her proof again, All because of the twins' inability to think seriously for five seconds.
When she finally fished her axe out from a tight space between two boulders, she was just about ready to cleave the two Thorsotns into four and go after the children, but forced herself to stop and think. The rest of the village was still firmly under the children's control, and now that the girl had shown her true face to Astrid, they could easily decide to fully shed their facade and use the other Berkians against her.
Astrid paused when a worrying thought hit her.
Could it be that the twins didn't save the child on accident? If the children had gone after her, it wasn't a stretch to think they'd already taken control of the other trainees. They made sure to lure her far out of the village, so what if this was the day they decided to do what they came here to do?
Was she the only one left?
She gritted her teeth when Hiccup's face appeared in her mind.
Was she... worried about him?
O-of course not! Worry was for the weak! He was simply her last loyal ally, and she needed to know if he was still on her side. Betrayal at this point could be fatal. She'd done her best to make it seem like he also betrayed her, so he should be safe, but... she should check on him and the other trainees, if only to be exact her revenge on the twins.
With a resolute nod to herself, Astrid set a course for the village while glaring at every shadow and hiding place, daring the child to show herself again. It took her a while to find her way back, and the whole time, she dreaded what she might find there.
But when she finally emerged from the forest, she found the village looking like something out of a particularly drunk dream rather than a nightmare.
Houses were covered in splashes of colour brighter than anything Astrid had seen before. Many different tools were strewn about and the ground was covered with feathers and rows of what seemed like chicken tracks, often in large numbers.
Still cautious but now also increasingly confused, Astrid crept past the first houses, painted a vibrant yellow, and almost immediately ran into a guard on patrol. She tensed, expecting an attack, but the man simply went past her, nodding in greeting while mumbling something about unsleeping youths.
The oddities didn't end there. Astrid walked past groups of Vikings in various stages of undress and sleepiness that were angrily arguing in the streets. Many of them had their hair and beards matted with many different substances, some resembling the stuff Astrid herself fell prey to. They complained about missing clothes, camouflaged pits, sharp objects in unusual places, and spooked livestock with mysteriously open pens.
Astrid didn't approach them in case some of them actually had an order to attack her, but what she overheard from their conversations only confused her more.
It seemed like the village was being hit with a vicious Loki'ing spree that not even the Nut tribe was safe from.
Even among the chaos, Astrid found the twins almost immeidtaely. They, along with Fishlegs and Snotlout, were standing near a relatively deep hole in the middle of one of the paths leading to the plaza. A crowd of angry Vikings, most bearing signs of having recently been Loki'd, surrounded them, their shouts filling the air.
And to Astrid's great shock, the twins were sporting evidence of having also fallen prey to the culprits. They were dirty and dishevelled, covered in bits of the same substance she was, and still slightly breathless, as if they'd been running recently.
But that didn't mean they were automatically blameless.
Astrid elbowed her way through the crowd, the fury on her face making even some of the adults step back, and barked out, "Ruff! Tuff! I swear for this I'll--"
"Astrid! You're not gonna believe what happened to us!" Ruffnut cut her off, her eyes shining with unbridled excitement. Unlike the adults, she apparently didn't realise in just how much danger they were. "You have our deepest respects for skipping dragon training, by the way. We always knew you had it in you. Was all of this you? Is that why you left? If you had told us, we would have totally gone with you!"
Astrid blinked and looked around, her anger now partially doused with confusion.
"What are you talking about? Wasn't this you?"
The twins shared a look and Tuffnut beckoned her closer. He looked around and lowered his voice to a near whisper, as if he was about to tell her a secret on par with the location of the Nest.
Despite her rage, Astrid leaned in, curious.
Did they find out something about the children? Was this all a cover for their investigation? Maybe she underestimated them and they had just been pretending to be obnoxious muttonheads to not be perceived as threats--
"We got Loki'd," Tuffnut whispered.
Astrid's jaw dropped.
"And they were no amateur crafts, no siree! They were true masterpiece of Lokish ingenuity!" Ruffnut added, grinning.
"I know, right?" Tuffnut squealed, way higher-pitched than Astrid had ever heard anyone go. "Whoever the mastermind is has to be related to us. I could feel the Thorston flair in those traps! And just look at this crowd! To do it in this magnitude, one must be a true genius. Today has been a true day of inspiration!"
"Indeed! Nothing to get a Nut's brain pumping like a good, old-fashioned competitor. After this, we are taking the next Loki day on a whole new level!"
The Vikings around immediately started protesting and even threatening the twins, which had just about as much effect as anyone who knew them would expect.
Astrid was just about ready to explode.
She just got lured away by an enemy she'd been trying to warn them against for days, was almost convinced to betray their very ideals, barely escaped and worried that she would find her village massacred or full of mindless minions, and these two were here talking about... Loki'ing and admiring those who Loki'd them? Did seriously no one except her realise the danger they were in? If the children weren't targeting the village yet, then these traps were obviously meant to stop anyone from helping her while she was being brainwashed! To think she worried about them, while not one of them spared a single thought for her own safety!
Your health is important too, Astrid.
The memory was enough to get her focused again. She straightened and scanned her surroundings.
He wasn't there.
He could be the next target.
Without waiting for Tuffnut to finish describing the score of mediocre traps they fell into, she bolted away for the second time that day, weaving around startled Vikings and ignoring the teens calling after her.
Hiccup. She had to find Hiccup before the children did.
Notes:
I have to say, I absolutely love the development of Hiccup and Snotlout's relationship throughout the shows. Those two are cousins and I will die on this hill. And of course Astrid changed a lot between the movies, but she still has a long way to go to understand that.
Chapter 14: Night of Loki, part 2
Summary:
Hiccup tries to get the Terror out of the village and makes a startling discovery. F's peaceful night of reading is interrupted by an unexpected visitor.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hiccup yelped and made a hasty grab for the green Terror when the light of a torch flickered over the houses in front of them. The little dragon squealed and tried to bite him, its teeth just barely missing his fingers, before he shoved it under a nearby porch.
The two had been moving through the village at a snail's pace because the Terror wanted to investigate everything -- trees, stones, houses, barrels, and, most of all, Vikings. Hiccup was forced to abandon his theory that this was the escaped arena Terror, because there was no way a dragon that had been held captive for so long would be so eager to approach humans. He had hoped to get to the forest while everyone was at nattmal, but because of the sheer number of times the Terror had wandered off, they'd barely made it to the plaza when night guards, such as the one approaching them now, started making their rounds.
The light swayed into view as said guard rounded the corner, and Hiccup waved at him awkwardly, trying to innocently lean on the house next to him as he did so, but he underestimated his distance to it and almost fell on his face. The guard snorted but luckily chose not to address his graceful flailing.
"You've been taking quite a lot of strolls lately, Hiccup," he greeted him jokingly. By some god's twisted joke it happened to be the same guard he and Toothless passed when the saddle incident happened.
"Oh! Uh, yeah, ha ha, y-you know how it is. Just getting some... late exercise. Th-the dragons don't sleep, so neither should we, right?" Hiccup said with a nervous smile, eyes involuntarily wandering to where the dragon was hidden. He swore he could see it staring back at him, and half expected the dragon to run out just to spite him.
The guard barked out a short laugh and slapped Hiccup's back so strongly he knocked out his breath.
"Aye, ain't that the truth. Stoick's lucky to have a son like you. Well, at least now he is."
He laughed again and Hiccup faked his own laugh despite the sting the guard's words brought. The man gave him one more pat before continuing his patrol, whistling to himself as he went.
Hiccup watched him leave, the corners of his mouth twitching from the forced smile. When the guard finally turned the corner, he let out a half-relieved, half-tormented sigh.
"Odin's beard, I swear taking a dragon through Berk is even more stressful the second time around," he mumbled to himself.
Checking to make sure no one else was nearby, he went down on all fours to retrieve the hiding Terror. The little dragon was chewing its tail with abandon, staying just out of his reach, and refused to move even as Hiccup called him. It even ignored the bit of dragon nip that had until then been enough to coax it out of hiding.
Hiccup groaned. "Oh come on, don't make this harder than it already is. I'm trying to help you here! Don't you want to go back into the wild?"
The dragon tilted its head, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.
"You probably have no idea you're even in danger, huh? Must be nice to be so carefree," Hiccup sighed, imagining how it would feel to be able to bring Toothless to the village without fear of either of them being killed.
Seemingly sensing his mood turn gloomy, the Terror finally took pity on him and crawled out from under the house. Taking its place on Hiccup's shoulder, it nuzzled his cheek, letting out a croon that sounded almost encouraging. Hiccup laughed and scratched the little reptile's chin, wondering how he could have ever wanted to hurt such beautiful and sensitive creatures.
In the distance, he heard the tell-tale sound of the door to the Great Hall opening and the hollering of Vikings stumbling down the stairs.
"Now look what you've done! You held us up for so long nattmal's over. The village will be full of half-drunk Vikings trying to find their homes for at least an hour now. We'll have to wait them out somewhere."
The Terror just chirped innocently and started chewing Hiccup's ear. It wasn't painful, just tickled slightly.
Looking around, Hiccup realised the forge wasn't too far from where they ended up. It was the ideal hiding place, since no Viking had a reason to go there so late at night. That, and he did still have to clean it up like Gobber ordered him to if he didn't want to endure the blacksmith's wrath.
Picking up the pace, Hiccup jogged towards the darkened building of the smithy and managed to slip through the door and close it just as the first Vikings reached the end of the stairs. He pressed his ear against the door and listened for Gobber's characteristic bellow, relaxing a bit when there was no sign of it.
"All right, we should be safe here for a while," he whispered to the Terror. "Now, I need you to stay put while I clean this place up a little and then we'll--"
Whatever else he was about to say got stuck in his throat when he turned around and saw four pairs of large yellow eyes staring at him through the darkness. At first he was sure that they were trolls or demons that came to steal him away, but once his initial panic passed, he started to see the outlines of small, winged bodies, clawed feet, and twisted horns.
"You have got to be kidding me..." he mumbled, reaching for the candle that Gobber must have left on his table.
Once he lit it, his jaw dropped as he was met with the sight of not just four, but close to two dozen Terrible Terrors that had somehow ended up hiding from the other teens there. They were all around the forge, on hooks, shelves, and tables, and two were even huddled up underneath the table, hidden in the shadows.
"What... How did... How are you all...?"
The dragons just blinked at him a couple times and went back to playing with the tools Gobber spent so long polishing every day. The Terror that Hiccup brought in was quick to leap off his shoulder, stopping only briefly to nuzzle the boy's leg before running off to join the others.
"I'm guessing Gobber didn't exactly give you guys permission to hide here, huh?" Hiccup asked sarcastically. The Terrors didn't answer, which was definitely a good thing since he was already starting to wonder if he hadn't gone insane. "Great, so now I'm stuck in the forge in the middle of the night, with a bunch of dragons that don't listen to me, and a horde of mead-filled, dragon-hating Vikings right outside." As he was saying that, a very familiar singing reached his ears. "Oh, and now also a Gobber at the door. Perfect. Juuuust perfect."
The dragons watched him curiously as he started pacing around the room, his mind jumping from one stupid plan to another and his heartbeat quickening alongside the rising volume of Gobber's voice.
There wasn't enough time to convince the Terrors to follow him out the back door, especially if they were the same as their green sibling. He could escape himself, but that would mean dooming the dragons to either immediate death or captivity and subsequent death in the arena. He wouldn't be able to look at Toothless again if he allowed that.
He only had one option left.
He quickly blew out the candle burning on the table and jumped to the door. When he looked back, the dragons were mostly hidden by the darkness, but their yellow eyes were still clearly visible. If Gobber looked in for longer than a few seconds, he would notice them.
The only Terror still looking at him was the green one, and Hiccup whispered to it, "I'll do my best to get him to leave, but I need you guys to stay here and be quiet. If he finds out you're here... well, I hope you'll have enough sense to fly away, because I won't be able to help you then." Mostly because Dad will skin me alive if he hears about this.
The Terror gave no indication it understood other than tilting its head slightly. Hiccup really hoped his theories about dragons being far smarter that Vikings thought wouldn't be proven false tonight.
Gobber's singing reached the door and his time was up.
Taking a moment to calm his breathing and school his expression, Hiccup grabbed the handle.
"Remember; keep quiet," he hissed into the shadows before cracking the door open just enough to slip outside and shut it again.
Gobber, who was just about to reach for the handle on the other side, jumped back with a startled yelp and would have punched Hiccup in the face had the boy not ducked his heavy blow.
"Hiccup!" the blacksmith bellowed loudly, making several other Vikings coming from the Great Hall look their way. "Odin's beard, ye should know better than to scare a man with a hook fer an arm like that! Do ye know what time it is? I thought ye would be long home!"
Hiccup put on the most innocent smile he could muster.
"I, uh, got caught up in some... a-additional work. Yeah! N-no other reason what...so...ever..." He trailed off and looked Gobber up and down. The blacksmith was covered in fluffy white feathers stuck in what looked to be tar. His tunic was a vibrant grassy green, and one of the horns on his helmet was missing.
"What in Thor's name happened to you?"
"Oh this?" Gobber brushed a fistful of feathers off his tunic, but most of it got stuck to his hand. "Someone -- or rather two someones that I'm pretty sure I know the names of -- thought it'd be real funny to douse ol' Gobber in tar and feathers. Matter o' fact, the whole village is getting hit by some nasty traps. I swear, when I get my hook on those twins, I'll--"
Hiccup winced when the clatter of falling weapons reached them from within the forge.
"What is--" Gobber started, reaching for the door, but Hiccup quickly jumped in front of him.
"Oh, would you look at the time! Y-you should head home. It's been a long day, and I'm sure you're tired after dealing with Snotlout and, uh, cleaning up the arena and all that. I'm just going to... wrap up a few things and lock up for you. How's that sound?"
Gobber raised an eyebrow at his nervous blabbering.
"Uh-huh. Hiccup, ye really should know by now that yer a terrible liar. Even Silent Sven is better, and he can only lie with his hands."
"I'm not lying," Hiccup said just a little too fast.
A strange shuffling sound came from the window to their left and Gobber glanced towards it, causing Hiccup to instinctively step into his line of sight while resisting the urge to look there himself.
They stared at each other for a while before Gobber stepped back and folded his arms over his chest.
"Hiccup, ye know ye don't have to lie to me, especially when I already know what's going on."
Hiccup's heart skipped a beat.
"Y-you do?"
Did Gobber see him going through the village? They did have to hide from him when he was going from the arena to the Great Hall, but Hiccup was sure he hadn't noticed them.
"Of course I do! Do ye take me for a fool? Something like that is hard not to notice."
Hiccup had to admit he was right. A dragon in the middle of Berk was sort of like a fire in the middle of a snowdrift, both literally and figuratively.
Glancing around, he said, "I don't see my dad charging at me yet. Why haven't you told him?"
Gobber snorted.
"Hiccup, we both telling the Chief is only gonna make him freak out. This isn't the first time, and won't be the last either, no matter what he does."
Renewed panic gripped Hiccup. Gobber couldn't possibly know about Toothless, right?!
"Wait, wait, wait! You're telling me you knew about that time too?!"
"Of course! Ye left traces left and right. It's my forge, Hiccup, no matter how hard ye try to clean up afterwards, I'll notice these things."
Seeing how panicked Hiccup had become, Gobber put his non-hook hand on the boy's shoulder. He was probably the only one in the village to do so with enough care not to almost knock him over. Normally, this gentleness would calm Hiccup, but now he couldn't help but tense when Gobber spoke again, afraid of what he'd say.
"Hiccup, yer a smart boy. A bit peculiar, but smart. I want ye to be able to be yerself, but enough is enough!"
Hiccup hung his head, wincing in preparation.
"Ye know I don't mind ye working on yer weird gizmos in my forge -- Really, I think it's great as long as ye don't decide to bring them out during a raid like last time -- but ye really have to stop blowing the forge up. It's bad for business, not to mention the false dragon attack alarms it can raise," the blacksmith finished.
"Okay, yes, I know what you're going to say, but--" Hiccup's head shot back up. "Wait, what?"
Gobber grinned at Hiccup's surprised expression, apparently misunderstanding it just as badly as Hiccup misunderstood the topic.
"Like I said, ye deserve a place where ye can be yerself, but the smithy ain't a playground. Now, just this once, I'm going to look the other way and go to bed early, but if the forge ain't functional by sunrise, yer banned from anything but the grindstone fer a month, understood?"
Hiccup just nodded numbly.
Gobber clapped his hands together with a giant smile. "Great! Well, like ye said, it's late so I'm gonna go hit the hay. Don't stay up too late now, we'll be starting off training early tomorrow."
Hiccup just nodded again, afraid to say anything that could ruin his unbelievable stroke of luck. Gobber winked at him and turned away, whistling to himself.
Hiccup stayed outside until the blacksmith disappeared in his house on the opposite side of the plaza, and only then retreated back into the forge. When the door closed, engulfing him in darkness, he just stood still for a while, thanking all the gods he could think of for helping him. Although, come to think of it, would gods actually help him if it meant saving dragons? Maybe he should be thanking the mead Gobber had for nattmal instead.
He startled a little when the light of a candle illuminated the forge again. The Terror that lit said candle looked at him with a questioning croon, tendrils of smoke rising from its maw.
"You know, I never though I'd say this, but I'm glad that fire canon didn't work out. The explosion from back then may have just saved both our skins," Hiccup said to the little dragon, who once again gave no response. "Yeah, I should probably stop talking to you and figure out a way to get you back to the forest instead, huh?"
The dragon stretched like a cat, wings unfurling to their full span, before it plopped on its back, clearly inviting Hiccup to give him scratches again.
"Right, still talking to a dragon," the boy huffed.
He started absently petting the Terror, and his mind calmed at least slightly at its soft purring, but he still tensed whenever a larger group of Vikings passed by the forge.
"I hate to say it, but we'll probably have to wait them out in here and try to get you guys out after everyone's gone to bed. Of course, by then it will be almost sunrise, so we'll have just a short window to get through the village before people start getting up again" The Terrorsnorted, and Hiccup could almost swear it rolled its eyes. "Hey, don't give me that look! This would all be a lot easier if you guys would finally start acting like dragons and get out of here. My dad once said that if a pack of Terrors decided to live under our house, we wouldn't know about it until one set us on fire."
He moved his hand towards the dragon's chin, causing it to roll over to expose more of its soft underbelly to him. Hiccup huffed out a laugh.
"I guess making my life difficult is just more fun, huh?"
This time he did get an answer in the form of furious chirping that broke out behind him. He turned towards it, intending to shush the dragons, but didn't even get the words out.
There was a Terrible Terror that hadn't been there before, perched on the window that he heard the strange shuffling from when he was outside with Gobber. He could have sworn it had been closed when he fist came into the forge. This new Terror was a pale turquoise and was obviously the instigator of the other dragons' unrest.
Hiccup completely forgot about needing to be quiet and watched mesmerised as the dragons exchanged a chain of chirps and growls. He'd seen dragons snap at each other before, mainly over food, but never anything like this.
It was like they were having an entire conversation.
Suddenly, all the Terrors perked up the same way they did outside the arena. At first, Hiccup couldn't understand what caused it, but then he heard it; A sharp whistle, the same he'd heard when leaving the arena but wrote off as wind.
The moment it sounded for the third time, all the Terrors immediately vacated their perches and followed the turquoise one out the widow.
Hiccup raced after them, but by the time he reached the window, only the green Terror remained in sight. When it saw Hiccup, it did a happy twirl as if saying goodbye and then flew off. The few Vikings that were in the plaza at the moment didn't even notice when it flew right above their heads.
"See? Incredibly sneaky," Hiccup mumbled, not really sure if he was glad that the dragons finally took action or annoyed that they didn't do so sooner.
He stayed by the window for a second longer to listen for any angry shouting that would signal the discovery of the dragons. None came, so he went back to what he was originally supposed to do; cleaning up the forge despite the exhaustion that was starting to catch up to him.
After working himself into a sleepy haze, stumbling over his old stool that was pulled out from under the table for some reason, and burning his palm on the side of the forge, which was somehow still hot, he decided to call it a night. He could get up early tomorrow and finish up whatever was left before training.
But just as he was about to leave, he noticed a piece of parchment on his table.
Despite Gobber often saying that he had no idea how Hiccup ever found anything in the mess that covered nearly every piece of his part of the workshop's floor, walls, and furniture, in Hiccup's eyes, everything had a place.
And this parchment definitely wasn't his. Gobber was strict in separating their workspaces, so it couldn't have been his either.
Carefully plucking it from under the pile of leather offcuts (and come to think of it, he didn't leave those either), Hiccup brought it closer to the candle.
It looked to be a plan for a harness of some sort, similar to plow yak harnesses. The drawing was so similar to his sketches that he almost put it back down, thinking it was one of his many discarded designs that he misplaced while in his cleaning haze, but when he looked closer, he started seeing parts that were different from his usual style. They were simpler but in a way that made the whole design more efficient, as if the person that made it had more experience than him.
If the measurements were anything to go by, this wasn't intended for a yak or any other working animal. It was more the size for a larger cat, and even then, some of the straps seemed downright useless. Hiccup just couldn't figure out its purpose.
His eyes wandered to a sketch at the bottom of the parchment. It seemed to be of an animal wearing the harness, hard to distinguish with how hurriedly it had been drawn, but it definitely didn't look like a yak, especially since Hiccup was pretty sure the two arrow-like lines at its sides were meant to be wings. Coupled with the long tail, and what seemed to be horns on its head, it almost looked like a...
Hiccup rubbed his eyes to chase away the sleepy fog and brought the drawing closer to the candle's flame.
There was no way someone beside him was making equipment for dragons, but the longer he looked at it, the more the harness resembled the style of his own plans for Toothless's saddle and tail.
But that was impossible! Who in the village would be interested in making something like that, in Gobber's forge, nonetheless? Definitely not the blacksmith himself, and there were few others who had access to it, not to mention the needed skills. Even if there somehow were other non-dragon-hating Vikings on Berk, why risk making these harnesses outside the safety of their home? The only reason Hiccup could think of for such rashness was if that person needed to leave the island as soon as possible and had no way to do so besides a dragon. But even then, the harness was far too small. Any dragon it would fit wouldn't be able to carry anyone heavier than a young child--
The parchment caught fire from the candle and Hiccup cursed and dropped it when it burst into flames. He stomped at it furiously, but it had little effect, and by the time he put it out, it became mostly unreadable.
Hiccup looked down at the smouldering pieces of parchment in disappointment.
Among the burnt-out holed and blotches of black, the sketch of the dragon was the only thing that survived mostly untouched. Looking at it from a distance, Hiccup finally recognised it as Terrible Terror.
And with that, all the dots connected and the perfect answer popped into his head.
He glanced over to the window the Terrors used to flee the forge.
They could be literally anywhere by now, but it was late, and some of them had already been napping while in the Forge. Hiccup doubted they'd go farther than they absolutely needed, not to mention that if they were truly listening to the orders of a human -- Hiccup didn't allow himself to put any names to that role for now -- then that person couldn't be that far in order for their whistles to be heard.
The closest wilderness in that direction was a dense grove close to Gothi's hut. No one except the old shaman dared to venture deeper in it for fear of getting lost and stumbling off the nearby cliffside into the sea below.
But then, Hiccup had always had a reputation for going where he wasn't allowed.
The warmth of a fire, a mug of herbal tea, and a good book were the definition of a perfect evening for F. Not that he didn't enjoy the company of the other riders, but after a week of sleeping beside S and the twins, he was craving some quiet.
He and Gothi had a nice conversation about herbs from outside the Archipelago before she was called away just after the first faint shout of "Loki'd!" reached them from the village below, which F was sure was purely a coincidence. So now it was just him, the book, and the oldest Terrible Terror that the twins failed to convince to join them. The dragon had been mostly ignoring the riders throughout their stay, but after Gothi left, she got up and surprised F by snuggling up to him. The whole time, she had an expression like she was telling F that this was all his fault.
"Oh, look at this," F chuckled and angled the book towards the Terror. "Healer Alfdir apparently thought he found the cure for warts; red oleander root. Wonder how long it took him to figure out it makes your hair fall out. He does have some pretty good observations about fungi though."
The Terror snorted and closed her eyes again. F knew it was silly, but he felt slightly dejected at that.
"I miss my Meatlug," he mumbled to himself.
The Terror's head suddenly shot up, making F yelp in surprise. The dragon's pupils shrunk to tiny slits and she bared her teeth in a low, gurgling growl.
"Whoa, easy! I didn't mean that you were bad company!" F said quickly, retreating a few steps back.
But the dragon wasn't looking at him. She was looking towards the window.
"Wh-what's wrong? Are the others back?" he asked quietly, even though he knew perfectly well the Terror wouldn't react like this to his friends' return.
The Terror continued growling, slowly creeping towards the most distant shadows while her eyes never left the window. F gulped and carefully tiptoed towards the opening. He crouched under it, took a deep breath, and extremely slowly stood up, only just enough so he could peek outside.
He hid again almost immediately, suppressing a startled yelp.
A dark shape was moving up the stairs, far larger than any of his friends and even Gothi. F would recognise it anywhere.
It was Stoick.
"Oh Thor... Oh Thor, oh Thor, oh-- this is bad. This is bad, this is really, really bad!" F whimpered as he scrambled back from the window, shaking like a leaf.
The Terror growled at him and jumped onto the fireplace, eyes following the wall along where Stoick would just about be.
"R-right, no time to panic! Need to act fast. Need to make sure he doesn't find out the others aren't here, or about the dragons, or Gothi, or... Oh Thor, where are the twins when you need to hide evidence?"
Still in a panic, F started running around, hiding anything that could expose their or Gothi's true face. He quickly arranged the blankets to make it look like people were sleeping under them and hid the healers' book in Gothi's hammock just as a knock sounded on the door.
"Gothi? There is something I need your help with."
F almost tried calling back in Gothi's voice before he realised that would make about as much sense as imitating Silent Sven at this point in time.
Stuffing one last pillow beneath S's blanket, he quietly rushed over to his own. Just before he burrowed into it, he realised the Terror was still perched on the cauldron.
"Gothi, if you don't open the door, I'm coming in. We need to talk."
F jumped back to his feet and grabbed the Terror, praying that her startled squeal didn't reach Stoick's ears. He practically dove back into his bedding and pulled the blanket over the both of them just as Stoick opened the door. F held the Terror close, praying to Odin she wouldn't fight him, and tried to make the most believable snoring sounds he could manage. By some miracle, the Terror seemed to understand his intention and stayed still, only growling quietly.
Stoick's strangely soft footsteps came closer, and F could only continue snoring, his mind running through all the ways this could go terribly wrong.
Something was strange here. Why wasn't Stoick calling for Gothi again? And why was he coming up here so late in the first place? What would be so important that it couldn't wait until morning?
Stoick's footsteps stopped next to him, and F could practically his eyes burning into the blanket. After a moment of silence, the Chief sighed.
"I must be going crazy," he mumbled quietly, bending down to pull the blanket a bit higher over one of the piles of pillows. F held his breath.
"Look at me, promising the village a god's blessing and then doubting it because of a gut feeling. If I can't trust my own words, how can anyone else?" Stoick continued muttering as he stood up and slowly headed for the door. "The village needs to survive. I will do whatever it takes. But why do the gods test me like this? What is it about these children that..."
The door closed, cutting off the rest of the sentence.
Even after Stoick's steps faded, F still didn't move. It was only when the Terror grew annoyed enough to bite him that he finally let her go and climbed out from under the blanket.
"Wow... that... was something," he squeezed out, heart still hammering in his chest. "I guess H was right. Stoick really does suspect us, at least a little."
The Terror sneezed out a plume of smoke and then curled back into her usual place by the fire. Instead of falling asleep, however, her eyes were trained on the door, barely blinking. After a few more moments in which F kept expecting Stoick to come running back through the door, sword swinging, he retrieved the book and settled next to her.
But even after his heartbeat calmed down and the Terror stopped staring at the door, he could barely focus at the text in front of him. His eyes kept wandering to the stars outside, and he found himself listening for any sounds from the village below that would signal the other riders had been discovered.
"Please be all right, guys..."
Notes:
Ooo, so close, Hiccup! Got two more chapters before we finally get to the new stuff and then things will really start going down. Can't wait to see what you guys think.
Chapter 15: Daybreak
Summary:
As the Night of Loki winds down, the riders celebrate their success, but their secret might not be as safe as they think.
Notes:
Ngl I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter, but it needs to happen and we're almost to the new and exciting stuff, so I'm willing to let it slide. Hope it's not too torturous for you guys.
Bon Appetite!
Chapter Text
It took much longer than F would have liked for the others to return. He'd just managed to get himself immersed in the book again when the door opened, making him jump thinking it was Stoick coming back.
To his relief, it turned out to be H and S. They were both a few shades darker from the excessive amount of ash covering their bodies and seemed slightly spooked, but also triumphant. They were dragging behind them a sack that was almost bigger than the two of them combined, but seemed mostly empty. F got up to help them with it, but fell down when his legs refused to work.
"What, did all the sitting around tire you out, Fish?" S quipped, but despite his usual kind of humour and the fact that he was still breathless from climbing the stairs, he seemed to be in a relatively good mood.
F grimaced. "For your information, my evening was quite eventful. But first, did you manage to make it?"
H smiled and nodded, patting the large sack.
"Most of them still need some assembly, but they're as well-made as they will be in our current situation. Now we just need to test the one that's ready."
"If it doesn't work after everything we went through for it, I think I'll just go ask Stoick to martyr me," S joked.
F winced, but decided to tell them what happened once everyone got back.
"The village does sound a bit... livelier than planned. How much did the twins mess up?"
"Should we start with the part that forced us to escape through a window, or the part that made walking through the village a literal nightmare?" S asked dryly.
F didn't get to pick, as in that moment, the door opened again and in walked Gothi. She was tailed by the twins, who looked the happiest any of them had ever seen them, and the Terrors, who slithered out of the darkness one by one and fell asleep as soon as they found a perch. A was also with them, being carried by Gothi, which she didn't look too thrilled about. The healer looked quite dismayed herself and after setting A down by the fire, she started rushing around the hut, picking up various herbs and other medical supplies.
"A? Is everything--"H started, but then blanched when he noticed A's hand on her neck and the blood dripping through her fingers.
"What happened?!" he asked frantically, rushing to her side.
"Nothing happened," A growled, refusing to meet his eyes.
"We heroically saved your betrothed's life, that's what happened," T said as he plopped down across the fireplace.
"And it was totally epic," R added proudly.
H thought he'd seen A's hardest glare before. He was wrong.
"Like I said, it's nothing--"
"This isn't nothing, Astrid!" H cut her off, decidedly but gently removing her arm. A long cut, clearly from a knife, stretched from her collar bone to her jaw, more blood flowing out.
Gothi dragged all of her gathered medical supplies to them and unceremoniously pushed H aside so she could pull off A's chestplate to get better access to the wound.
"Astrid, please. I just want to know you're okay," H half-whispered, eyes locked into hers.
A glared at him for a while longer, but then her hard look crumbled.
"I messed up, okay?" she mumbled, wincing when Gothi started cleaning the cut. "With my past self, I mean. We lured her to the forest, everything was going great and she was actually listening to me, but then I just had to slip up! Now instead of getting her off our backs, she's more suspicious than ever. This--" She motioned to her wound. "--was just an unintentional parting gift from her, not nearly the worst she can do now."
H frowned at the gash in A's skin. It wasn't very deep and really did look more accidental than not, but even the smallest wounds his friends sustained were enough to send him into a panic.
He watched Gothi apply ointment on the wound, unsure whether trying to placate A would make the situation better or worse.
"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," he finally said as Gothi was finishing up. "We all knew getting our past selves, especially yours, to trust us would be almost as much of a miracle as convincing my dad to accept dragons right here and now. You got further with her than any of us could have hoped for. If anything, you should be proud of yourself."
"I had to be saved by the twins," A said sourly.
H shrugged with a small smile. "Yeah, well, so have I, and we've saved them in return. That's what friends are for. No matter how much we tease or irritate each other, we always have each other's backs when it matters."
"He's right, don't beat yourself up about this, A," S joined in, glancing at H with an unreadable look in his eyes. "This whole time travel, age-regression thing's got all of us more messed up than we thought. You think you messed up by making your past self a little more suspicious? Imagine what me or one of those morons slipping up would do." He inclined his head towards the twins.
When he noticed the looks the other riders were giving him, he puffed out his cheeks.
"What?! I can give good advice too, you know!"
"Well, you hide it pretty well," A snorted. "But when you do... you're actually not that bad at it. Thanks, S."
"Wow, if you keep this up, I might actually start getting jealous of him," H snorted, elbowing her playfully, to which A answered in kind, her expression finally lighting up a bit. Gothi didn't appreciate her moving, and shot H a warning glare that made him quickly step back to let her work.
After a few more moments, Gothi allowed A to pull her armour back on and started putting her supplies back in their places, pointedly scribbling out something about reckless children that both F and H refused to translate with A in the room. The only part they did relay was that A's wound was mostly superficial and would heal pretty much overnight, which was met with great relief from the riders.
A then briefly shared her route through the village and where she left Astrid after getting discovered without going into any details of their talk. H and S recounted how they'd been discovered by Hiccup and escaped through the window while he and Gobber inadvertently distracted each other, and H let the twins know just how stupid it was to leave the Terrors roaming about. Judging by Gothi's endless glare at the duo during this part, she was equally displeased.
The twins took a much more... embellished approach in their retelling, describing in detail each and every trap they laid. The story they spun was on par with any Loki Day the riders remembered, full of tar, chickens, and yelling. The chaos was much more far-reaching than H had asked them for, but except for pinning the blame for losing Gobber and Hiccup on Sharpshot, whom they'd apparently 'ingeniously set out as a distraction', their plan worked, so he was willing to let it slide.
"Well, except for almost getting the two of us caught, you guys actually did a pretty good job," H concluded.
"Please, Chief, let's give credit where credit's due. We've done an amazing job," T said proudly.
"Dare I say even a brilliant one," R added, stuffing her face with yak jerky she brought from Thor knows where.
"A superb performance of utter and boundless mayhem," T agreed, stealing said jerky to his sister's dismay.
"Just remind us never to set you loose on our Berk," F huffed, quickly scooting away as the two Thorstons started declaring the great jerky war on each other, with Mother Chicken apparently trying to negotiate peace.
A sighed and leaned against H's shoulder. "All that matters is that you guys managed to get everything done before you had to run from Gobber and Hiccup."
"Excuse you, we weren't running! It was a tactical retreat! I voted to fight!" S said, crossing his arms.
"For the last time, S, we're not fighting our younger selves," H interjected with a sigh.
"I'm not saying we should beat them up for no reason, just... knock some sense into them, y'know? And think of all the stuff we could teach them! Alvin, Dagur, Drago -- those would all be a breeze after with what we could show them."
"Uh huh. And I'm sure the fact that you've been wanting to punch little Snotlout's teeth out has nothing to do with it."
"I didn't say that either," S grumbled.
H shook his head with another chuckle. "We are not changing the past, S, and that's final. Except for F, we all almost got discovered tonight. Let's not try our luck any more."
At his words, F sat upright and looked around nervously.
"Uh, so, speaking of getting discovered..." he started slowly. "While you guys were gone, Stoick was here."
The name immediately shattered the relaxed atmosphere, making all the riders sit upright. Gothi's head snapped up, her face a stone mask.
"Does he know?" H asked sharply.
"I don't think so. He left pretty quickly, so I don't think he saw anything here, but he said some pretty weird things. I think he's really starting to suspect something, H. Whatever is protecting us is either losing effect or isn't strong enough to pacify him anymore."
S threw his hands up with a groan. "Well that's just great! So now we have both Hiccup and Astrid and Stoick out to get us? That's like two steps away from the entire village hunting us down! Please tell me you at least made progress with the book, F."
F glanced at said book with a nervous hum before producing a small piece of parchment from his tunic.
"There's a lot of interesting facts in there, but nothing that could help us so far. I've taken notes about potential leads, but most of them are a long shot at best. It's going a lot slower than I expected, too. Gothi's predecessors' writing is harder to decipher than that drunken love confession Gobber wrote to his hook last Snoggletog, and not just because this time I'm actually trying to understand it."
H skimmed over the few short sentences F had scribbled down and saw that he was right. There didn't seem to be anything that had to do with actual time travel, rather speculations about strange phenomena the shamans had observed and chalked up to possible time travel.
When he gave the parchment back with a shake of his head, A shifted nervously.
"We're losing ground here, H. It's good that we finally have at least some plan, but we need to move faster. One wrong step now and we'll be discovered."
"I know, I know. We've been walking on eggshells ever since Johann's visit, and as successful as tonight was, it won't help the suspicion against us..." He trailed off and looked around at them with a conflicted expression. "Truth is, I've been thinking about this for a while and... I think we should leave Berk."
That caught even the twins off guard. All of the riders plus Gothi stared at H as he fidgeted nervously.
"Don't get me wrong, there's not many places where we'd be safer," he continued carefully, "but even if we overlook the immediate threat to our lives, we're literally tiptoeing at the edge of shattering our entire timeline. Like S said, Astrid and Hiccup are constantly on our tail, and it's only a matter of time before others get suspicious too. Gothi, you might be able to buy us time, but that would mean putting you and your Terrors in danger as well, and we've done enough of that already."
Gothi lifted her staff as if she was about to protest, but then her eyes found the oldest Terror, the one that was with F when he was most almost discovered, and she put it back down again.
"Well, let's say we consider it," S started slowly. "Even if everything works and we'll be able to ride the Terrors off the island, where exactly are we going to go? As we are now, we're easy targets to anyone from hunters to just plain wildlife. I don't know about you guys, but getting eaten by an overgrown wolf is not exactly the warrior's death I want."
"And don't forget that the Terrors won't be able to go nearly as far as our dragons while carrying us. We could easily tire them out and end up trapped somewhere worse than Berk," F added.
H, obviously relieved they weren't shooting his idea down right away, nodded and pulled out his notebook, unfolding the ever-growing map within it.
"I've been thinking about all that, and you're right that it won't be easy. Most of the Viking Archipelago is out of the question because right now it's either hostile to Berk, dragons, or both. And if we end up going beyond the map, we would need to steer clear of hunter-controlled areas, which at this point are pretty much everywhere."
"How about the Edge? There's nothing much there right now, but we know the island, and it would be nice to say hi to Smidvarg, too," R suggested, eyeing the island that would hold their old (future?) base on the map.
"That was actually the first place I thought of, but we should leave it as a last resort. Without supplies from Berk, it would be hard to build a permanent base there, and securing a steady source of food and water would be difficult in our current bodies. I think our best bet is to head to uninhabited islands near Berk and try to find and tame larger dragons before we make any longer trips to a secure island to make a more permanent base," H said, drawing an imaginary line to the islands he was talking about.
"Hey, if we want security, why don't we go to one of the cool, dragon-friendly islands with badass warriors? Y'know, like the Defenders of the Wing or the Wingmaidens? Those are cool," T asked casually.
While the first name only made S flinch a little, the second made him jump to his feet.
"Uh, did you guys by any chance forget that both of these tribes tried to, oh you know, kill us when we first met them?!" he shrieked.
"To be fair, pretty much everyone not from Berk tried to kill or betray us at some point," R remarked.
"Yeah and they usually become our allies in the end. Kind of weird isn't it?" F added, his brows scrunching up as he recalled the surprisingly high number of times that happened.
"Both of those groups tried to kill a bunch of adult dragon riders who were trespassing on their islands. I don't think they would have the same reaction to a group babies, even if they were riding dragons," H said towards his cousin.
S still didn't look convinced.
"And the Hiccup train of risky plans based on purely winging it rides on," he mumbled, receiving a stink eye from H.
"Okay, obviously the plan isn't perfect, but look at us! We just made dragon riding equipment in a forge made for dragon killers, and no one even noticed! We could only do the things we did tonight because we decided to move forward despite the danger. Sure, leaving our home is risky, but we've handled tall odds before. What's leaving one island to a group of rider that stood against Drago Bludvist and won?"
"All right, all right, we get it," A stopped him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You know we'd follow you anywhere, babe. You don't have to give us a speech for that."
"So, we're leaving Berk. As babies. In the past. With only Terrors to carry us. And no allies anywhere. That's a thing we're doing now," F listed off uneasily. "Well, at least we won't have to use code names anymore..."
The twins, on the other hand, looked wholly excited, even banging their heads together.
"Imagine, sister, a whole new world that is unfamiliar with the Nuts, and yet we know everything about it! Think about all the possibilities!" T said, making a sweeping motion with Mother Chicken in hand.
"Do you think we could find Eret son of Eret? I would love to see his reaction to a ghost in his wall telling him some of the things he's told us about himself," R cackled.
A sighed and folded her arms.
"Yeah, I think we'll need more of a plan that just 'let's become ghosts', unless we want to do that literally. And we'll also need supplies, a lot of them."
Seeing the others grimace at the prospect of more planning, H said, "We can do all of that tomorrow. The village will have their hands full with cleaning up after the twins for a while, so that should give us time. The first harness is finished and the others just need to be put together. Once we all get some sleep, we'll do a test flight with Sharpshot so I can make any needed adjustments, and then we'll start worrying about getting the rest of the stuff together."
T scoffed. "Sleep? Oh, sweet, naive H. A good Loki'ing spree never ends after just a couple hours. With the amount of work we've done, no one in the village is getting any sleep tonight, least of all us."
"We still have twenty-seven traps that haven't been triggered and we intend to see every single one of them go off," R explained just as a scream echoed outside. "Make that twenty-six."
"That was the one at Gustav's," her brother noted as he peeked through the window. "The kid will never look at porridge the same."
S yawned and stood up to stretch his arms.
"To be honest I took a nap while those two were preparing their mayhem, so I was thinking of having a spar. You in, A?"
"Sure. I feel like punching something after today," A shrugged, her injury quickly forgotten to Gothi's visible annoyance.
"Well I was going to sleep, but I'll probably just do some more reading. Thor knows what those two would do to me without supervision," F grumbled, glaring at the twins slightly.
Knowing full well that sleep was out of the question for him too, H reached for the bag he and S brought in.
"Well, I suppose there's no use waiting until morning, then, especially since we won't have to worry about being spotted with everyone still distracted," he said, pulling out a heap of tangled leather straps that was the new harness. "So, who wants to go test our newest invention of doom?"
...
It was the darkest part of night, the time right before the first sunlight started creeping over the horizon but after the moon grew dim. All the Berkians were concentrated around the plaza where the bulk of the twins' traps were, and even the latest of nocturnal animals were back in their dens by now, leaving the outskirts of the village empty and quiet. The riders didn't even have to hide as they walked through the short stretch of houses that separated them from the forest. Sharpshot sat on H's shoulder, swaying back and forth with every step. He seemed very curious about the harness H was carrying, almost as if he already knew it was meant for him.
They decided against doing the test right outside Gothi's hut in case Sharpshot freaked out and started flying around or shooting fire. Burning Gothi's house down probably wasn't the best way to thank her for taking them in.
Soon, they reached the grove where Gothi gathered her herbs, and the shadows of the trees swallowed them. It was the perfect place to test the harness, since even if someone took a late-night stroll through the forest for whatever reason, this wouldn't be the place they'd choose because of how dense and treacherous it was.
The riders were careful to stay together. Gothi made sure they all remembered her paths before allowing them to use the this part of the forest as a testing ground, but none of them were confident enough to stray too far from the group. Gothi herself decided to stay behind, saying that she had enough of seeing Vikings do crazy things for the day. Still H could see that she was definitely interested in riding dragons, and he promised himself that he would take her for a ride on Toothless in their future.
Before long, they reached a small glade that Gothi gave them the directions to. The trees there were tall enough that their branches wouldn't get in the way, and there were plenty of bushes that could soften H's potential fall.
"So, Hiccup, how exactly is this supposed to work?" A asked curiously as he started fitting Sharpshot with the harness.
H mumbled something into the strap he was holding between his teeth. Sharpshot wriggled a bit, but otherwise remained calm.
"Wow, and he always tells us not to chew on our saddles," T joked, earning himself a muffled, "I can hear you, Tuff." from H.
H quickly finished securing it in place and left Sharpshot to curiously sniff at the leather while he clipped on a strange belt with loops that went around his legs, an iron ring on each side.
From what the other riders could see, the harness looked nothing like any type of saddle they'd seen before. There was no obvious seat for the rider, and it had two long straps that hung off the dragon's sides and pooled on the ground below his feet.
"Uh, Fish? I think your geek-out buddy's forgotten what a saddle looks like," S stage-whispered.
"We told you before that it's not a saddle, Snotlout. When we were drawing the designs, we realised it would require a lot more time and materials to create an actual saddle for the Terrors because of how their wings are positioned and how thin their necks are," F explained.
"That's right. We figured that we would need to find a totally different way to fly them than how we flew any dragon in the future, so..." H reached down to grab the two long straps, and a glint of metal revealed a clasp at the end of each of them. "I figured if we can't fly on the Terrors, we'll just have to fly below them."
Before his friends' confusion could be transferred into words, he clipped the two straps onto the loops on his belt and whistled to Sharpshot. The little dragon stopped chewing at the harness and chirped happily when H pointed to the sky.
With a powerful flap of his tiny wings, the Terror launched himself off the ground, squawking in surprise when he found a weight pulling him down. But he refused to give up, and bit by bit, his distance from the ground increased, as did H's.
"I-i-it's working! It's actually working!" H couldn't restrain his happy yells as Sharpshot lifted him higher and higher.
He was finally back in the air. Finally back in his element.
His excitement quickly carried over to the other riders, and soon their happy shouts and Sharpshot's victorious chirping echoed around the glade.
In their elation, none of them noticed the silhouette of a scrawny, auburn-haired boy that scampered away in the direction of the village, wide green eyes shinning with newfound understanding.
Chapter 16: Calm (and Confusion) Before the Storm
Summary:
In different parts of Berk (and beyond) different members of the Haddock clan collect themselves after the Night of Loki. A storm brews on the horizon as long-awaited answers are finally revealed.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A gust of cold wind finally snapped Hiccup out of his thoughts, and the memory of a child hanging in a harness beneath a dragon faded from his mind. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, just staring at the slowly brightening sky while his thoughts ran wild, but it must have been a while, considering how cold he was.
The scaly body he'd been leaning against shifted, and Toothless cracked open an eye when he felt Hiccup start shivering. With a snort, he stretched out one wing and wrapped it around the boy like a blanket. The black membrane was thin, but combined with the plasma burning in the Night Fury's belly, it warmed him just as quickly as a campfire would.
"Thanks, bud," Hiccup smiled at the dragon, scratching his jaw. "I wish everything was as easy to wrap my head around as you are."
Toothless just huffed and closed his eyes again. Hiccup was pretty sure he'd told the dragon about what he saw at least three times, but Toothless didn't seem too worried about it.
Hiccup wished he could feel the same. What he saw just hours before was so surreal that he would chalk it up to being a dream if it weren't for the small cuts and scrapes he got from when he ran to the Cove in the dark.
He looked down at the ground where his open notebook laid, a sketch on each of the visible pages. One was of the him and the other teens, the other of the Blessings.
Next to each other, the similarities he'd been subconsciously noticing were hard to miss. Looking at the latter sketch, with just a little bit of imagination, he could see Astrid's slightly slanted, sky-blue eyes, Fishlegs's large frame lacking a neck, Snotlout's glossy hair and proud posture, the twins' signature slouch and mischievous grin, and even his own scrawny body and the small scar on his cheek.
Somehow... he and the other teens... from the future... were here... and not only did the others seem to follow him... they didn't mind dragons-- No, more than that! They knew how to ride them.
They were a group.
They were dragon riders.
Time travelling dragon riders.
How the Hel was he supposed to deal with this?
"You know, you could at least pretend you care about this more," he mumbled towards Toothless. "For a while, I really thought there were other dragon riders out there. Instead it turns out that shapeshifting dragons that want to take over Berk somehow aren't the craziest explanation for all of this."
He really wasn't sure how he felt about all this. Those sketches he found in the forge gave him hope. Hope that there was a way for dragons and humans to coexist, that there was an island somewhere on which he and Toothless wouldn't have to hide anymore.
And it seemed that might actually be the case, only not in another place, but another time.
The other teens' future versions -- if they really were from the future -- all seemed familiar with training dragons, which meant that somehow, someday, his peers learned to accepting the reptiles.
But how? At what cost? Were they outcasts? Did they have to run away, somehow ending up in the past? They talked about riding other dragons in the future, so where were they?
Where was his future self's Toothless?
His own Toothless warbled what Hiccup was pretty sure could translate to, 'Stop talking nonsense and go to sleep already, human.' That was what he'd tell himself, at least. The whole thing sounded absolutely mad, and the longer he thought about it, the more he was wondering whether he accidentally drank out of the wrong tankard at some point. But at the same time, all the pieces he had no explanation for until now were finally falling into place; The children's skills, their inexplicable understanding of Berk and its inhabitants, their knowledge of dragons, and even what one of the twins(?) said the first night in his house. Apart from the fact that they were all apparently reverse-aging in this future, time travel explained all of that perfectly.
And all of a sudden, Hiccup wanted that to be the truth.
The future these children represented, one where even if the village potentially banished him, he wasn't alone in his love for dragons, seemed like a beautiful dream, one that felt as fragile as glass, and he was afraid that even just by moving his hands wrong, he would shatter it.
He stroked Toothless's scales with a rueful smile.
"What in gods' names am I supposed to do now, huh? Do I just... keep acting like nothing happened and hope we're still on the right track? But Astrid is still convinced that the Blessings are some evil spirits. What if she does something that changes the future before I tell--"
He paused, a brand new wave of panic hitting him.
"How the Hel am I going to tell Astrid?!" he groaned, slightly hysterical. "I can't just walk up to her and say, 'Oh, hey, Astrid, guess what? The Blessings are apparently our dragon-riding versions from the future, and by the way, I already have a trained dragon hiding on Berk. Surprise!' She'd think those children got to me too and go to my dad. that is if she wouldn't just straight up axe me! I can't do that! ...Can I?"
Toothless blinked at him innocently and shifted his front paws almost as if he was shrugging. Hiccup groaned again and buried his face in the dragon's scales.
The gods really had it out for him.
Stoick groaned, rubbing his eyes to chase away the fog of exhaustion. In doing so, he failed to notice the puddle of glue in his path and his shoes immediately got stuck in the half-hardened substance.
He ripped them free with a growl and continued walking towards his house.
Why did Berk have to be constantly in trouble? Finally there was the briefest respite from dragon raids, but does he actually get to enjoy it? Of course not! Instead, the arena explodes, Johann's ship almost burns down, and now comes his newest headache; the night that had barely passed and which many villagers were already starting to call the Night of Loki.
If it weren't so frustrating, it would be almost impressive. To manage to plague the whole village with such intricate traps and not get spotted even once was something even the Nut tribe was incapable of. Not that Stoick didn't suspect them at first. The shock he felt when he marched up to the Nut clan's household, only to find his main suspects plotting revenge for the traps they themselves fell prey to, was indescribable and somehow bordered on respect.
So, now he could add 'looking for a trickster above even the Nuts' level, with the entire village ready to declare war just to let off steam and the threat of a leftover trap behind every corner' to his to-do list.
Sometimes Stoick hated being chief.
He rounded the corner and finally saw his house. From the outside, it seemed it was mercifully spared the night's mayhem, though Stoick had a sneaking suspicion it had less to do with mercy and more with the trickster's justified fear of his revenge.
Was it too much to hope that he could get a few hours of sleep now?
Apparently, it was. Before he even got to the door, he heard a dull thump and the sound of footsteps from the second floor.
His first thought was that it was Hiccup getting up, but the footsteps were too light and precise for his son. He could hear the person walk around the room as if searching for something, and although it might have been just his imagination, Stoick thought he could also hear nervous mumbling.
Was it an intruder? The perpetrator of tonight's chaos?
What did they want with his son?
Stoick gripped his axe with his free hand and went to slowly open the door, but stopped when he heard the footsteps heading for the other side of the house. The intruder must have been trying to escape through the window.
He quietly rounded the house in the same direction, stopping just out of view of said window. A second later, a small figure appeared there, carefully slipping out and making its way down the side of the house.
Stoick tensed, ready to strike, and then breathed a sigh of relief when he recognised the person to be Astrid. She looked just as rattled as many of the villagers that Stoick helped free from various traps that night, but her eyes were also burning with a strange determination.
Stowing his axe, Stoick waited for the girl to jump down before approaching her. While he was relieved it wasn't an enemy making their way into his son's room and very much doubted Astrid was the one to lay tonight's traps, he still needed to know what she was doing.
"And what, pray tell, were you doing in my house, lass?"
Astrid froze in the middle of shaking out her arms after the climb and turned to him with the expression of a child that was caught playing with their parent's best weapon.
"Chief! I was, uh... I was... looking for you!"
Stoick crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her.
"Looking for me, ey? Well, call me old fashioned, but when I go looking for someone, I usually go through their front door, not their son's bedroom window."
Astrid opened her mouth, then closed it again and looked away. She was clearly hiding something, but considering what Gobber told him about dragon training, Stoick had a pretty good idea of what that was.
He glanced back up at the window with a knowing smirk and said, "I'm glad you and Hiccup are getting along now, Astrid, but I do hope you're letting him get some sleep. Dragon training is still on, after all."
Astrid immediately turned red as a Changewing and her head snapped up so fast Stoick was worried she'd snapped her neck.
"Wha-- I-it's not like that!" she stuttered, and Stoick had to hold back a laugh at seeing the normally fearless shield-maiden so flustered. "Hiccup and I aren't-- He isn't-- No! B-besides, he isn't even here! I don't know where he went!"
"That so? Well, Gobber did say Hiccup had some things to finish at the forge, and the boy tends to stay there for hours on end. Perhaps he's still there now," Stoick said, chasing away the slight sting of worry.
Astrid bit her lip and her eyes went past him, in the direction of the forge and farther into the forest that loomed beyond the village, dark and heavy with the morning dew, as though it held whatever secrets were weighing her down. The look she had was strangely haunted, more so than getting caught in one of that night's traps would warrant. Stoick couldn't fathom what could have scared her to the point that she looked ready to run for the hills.
He shifted his weight, uncrossing his arms as he studied Astrid’s distant expression. The girl noticed and looked like she wanted to say something, only to think better of it at the last second.
With a quiet sigh, Stoick spoke again, trying to soften his tone. "Lass, if there’s something troubling you, it’s best you tell me now. As your chief, I need to know what's going on in my village, to make sure all my people are safe, and as a father, I worry for my son. If Hiccup is putting himself in danger or... troubling you somehow, I want to know."
Astrid's eyes darted back to him, a hint of apprehension showing in them.
"Hiccup would never do that!" she retorted with ferocity that surprised Stoick. "We're just doing what any warrior in training should do and making sure the village is safe from any threats, the obvious and the hidden ones. We've been investigating, looking for clues on--"
She cut herself off and looked back down again, her fingers going to fiddle with the worn leather of her armguard self-consciously.
Stoick's aloof smile immediately disappeared.
"Looking for clues on what exactly?" he asked, perhaps a bit sharper than he intended.
Astrid gritted her teeth, a distinctly guilty look on her face. Something he forbade then, or that went against his convictions, something she knew he'd be mad about...
And Stoick finally realised where the heart of the dragon was. Astrid's disdain for the Blessings was no secret, but he didn't think she'd go as far as to literally hunt for them.
Apparently, he was wrong. And he didn't like being wrong.
Hardening his tone just enough to show the girl that this was no passing matter, he said, "Astrid, I understand that you think what you're doing is for the best. We're warriors you and I, we both fight to protect what's dear to us. I know you've given a lot of effort to upholding your family's honour, even more so since what happened to your uncle Fin, but looking for problems where there are none isn't the way to go."
Astrid straightened abruptly, her face red once again, this time from barely suppressed anger.
"But there is a problem here, Chief, but none of you can see it! I know what everyone's saying, what you said in the Great Hall -- that those kids were sent by the gods, and that there have been no dragon raids because of them, but I don't believe it for a second! Don't you see it makes no sense? How they appeared out of nowhere? The way they act? Is none of it strange to you?"
'Shouldn't it be strange to you?' a voice in the back of Stoick's mind asked, but was quickly pushed back by that strange golden fog that had been creeping on the edges of his consciousness for days.
"The Blessings are protecting us, Astrid, and we should be thankful for that, even if we may not understand them fully. Stop this nonsense and focus on your training, lass. You have a bright future ahead of you. Don't waste it on unfounded suspicions," he said firmly.
Astrid's eyes narrowed.
"Is that a Chief's order?"
Stoick straightened, glaring slightly.
"If it has to be."
Astrid hesitated for only a moment before her fingers curled into fists and her look changed into one of defiance and determination.
"Then I refuse it," she said a tad quieter, surprising them both. "I'll get to the bottom of this, no matter who tries to stop me... Even if it means becoming an outcast. And even if you don't believe me, Chief, please, don't trust those children until they prove they're not our enemies. For the sake of the village... and Hiccup."
With that, the young shield-maiden stormed away. Stoick watched her go and once she turned the corner, he let his indifferent mask fall with a sigh.
"I know all that, lass," he whispered to the empty spot next to him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I know..."
The truth was, no matter how well he convinced his people that things were finally taking a turn for the better, how many times he thought he'd been convinced, doubts still found their way into his mind. That strange fog that should be suspicious to him always drove them back, but a single memory would cause them to resurface soon after. It was a short moment from the night they found the Blessings in the killing arena surrounded by dragons; The Deadly Nadder, the most cunning of all the dragons Stoick had met face to face, seemingly trying to shield the group of children from the charging Vikings for the split second before it was wrestled down by Gobber.
The fog tried to convince him there were many reasons for the dragon to act that way, but none of them held up even just against his own scrutiny. He knew he was missing something, and he had the sickening feeling that this something would turn his world and newfound peace upside down. There was a reason he went up to Gothi's hut earlier that night and left without even meeting her, and he knew very well it wasn't his headaches.
But then the fog came creeping back, convincing him that he could trust these children were good. Because despite all his doubts, there had been no dragon raids since the Blessings arrived on Berk, and as long as that didn't change, he would keep them in the village. If they turned out to be enemies after all, he would dispose of them, simple as that, even if the memory of the auburn-hared boy told him otherwise.
But for now, he wanted to believe they were a miracle, a sign not to give up.
He had to believe there was hope for the future.
With a sigh, he walked back to the door, his head still full of doubts, but when he walked inside, those were immediately chased away, and this time not by the fog.
The main room looked strangely empty, and it didn't take him long to realise why. All his furniture had been glued to the ceiling, from chairs and the new bearskin rug, to the sharpening stone he left laying on the floor when he was called away in the evening. It was almost surprising that the culprit didn't rebuild the fireplace onto the ceiling too.
Stoick slammed the door hard enough to make the walls shake and stomped over to start ripping the furniture down.
For some reason, he really felt like cursing out the twins.
The sky lit up with fire as Cloudjumper sent a blast hurling forward. Eight small dragon shapes fluttered unsteadily as the explosion cut off their headless flight, all of them flapping their wings frantically to keep themselves airborne. The leading one, a lithe black dragon with large green eyes, looked back at Cloudjumper with a hurt expression.
Valka sighed and nudged her dragon to take them up front, fully cutting off the dragonlings' path. They stared at her with accusing eyes.
"We've talked about this, wee ones. We can't go out on the open water, it's far too dangerous," Valka shouted over the howling of icy winds, trying to keep her voice soothing despite it. Whether they understood her words or not, hearing her sound calm and nonthreatening helped in calming dragons down, and in turn allowed her to not forget how to talk.
The dragonlings' looks only hardened and the little Monstrous Nightmare even fired a small blast at her in retaliation. Cloudjumper easily avoided it and his warning growl shook the air. The Nightmare had the common sense to look at least slightly sorry.
Ever since the batch of young dragons had been brought into the Sanctuary, nothing had been easy for Valka. She was used to managing dragons that lost their parents or flocks to hunters, but these little ones seemed determined to defy everything she knew about orphaned dragons, and really just dragons in general. They seemed to recognize almost everyone in the Sanctuary, including Valka, and weren't afraid or lashing out like most dragons that were harmed by hunters did at first. Upon meeting the King of Dragons, one thing became very clear; They followed the Night Fury and only the Night Fury, who in turn seemed to merely respect the Alpha. What was even more confusing to Valka was that the Alpha didn't seem to mind this and even displayed a sort of respect back towards the young dragon.
Valka reasoned that it could be something specific to Night Furies. She didn't have much experience with that particular species, so it was plausible. What wasn't plausible was that she would somehow be in possession of whatever the dragonlings -- and especially the Night Fury -- were constantly looking for.
And once it became clear that something wasn't with her or anywhere within the icy walls of the Sanctuary, they kept trying to leave.
At first, Valka thought they just needed some space to fly and get used to being without their parents, so she went with them and Cloudjumper on small trips in the surrounding area. Normally, she would allow new arrivals to pick their flying route and would only make sure they steered clear of any Viking-inhabited islands or hostile ships, but these young ones seemed intent on flying in one specific direction, a direction Valka vowed to never go in again.
Berk.
"All right, that's enough flying for today. Let's go back. We can fly again before feeding time," she called gently towards the group.
Just like every time she herded them back, they looked less than pleased, and only grudgingly followed her orders, flapping and gliding back down to the currents that would bring them back within the Sanctuary. Cloudjumper picked up the rear, making sure none of them tried to wander off.
Valka kept her eyes on the little Night Fury, mesmerised by his elegant flight. She had noticed him having trouble flying when they first arrived, as if he couldn't control his tail too well, but after a few failures, he learned to fly all right. And then the real trouble began. With him leading their group even in the air, it became increasingly hard to stop the dragonlings from trying to secretly leave in the middle of the night. The very early wake-up calls and nearly everyday (and everynight) chases around the icy pillars were quickly getting old. It went so far that Valka had to have other dragons keep watch over them while she slept.
She had no idea how such tiny creatures could induce so many headaches.
The icy walls of the Sanctuary swallowed them, the tunnel winding this way and that and growing increasingly narrow in many places as they approached the heart of the nest. Soon, the air turned warmer and flashes of green foliage interrupted the monotone white as they emerged on a small ledge close to the top of the massive cavern, where the dragonlings had taken to sleeping when they weren't trying to turn Valka's life upside down.
The cavern was filled with a loud cacophony of the countless dragons living there. Their scaly bodies slithered over every surface, claws scratching ice as the reptiles moved about, feeding, sleeping, fighting, and just generally being dragons.
The Alpha's pool was empty like it had often been in the past few weeks. The Bewilderbeasts' mating season was fast approaching, and the King of Dragons spent much of his time preparing nesting locations for potential mates. Valka had worried when she first found out some of them were beneath Viking-inhabited island, but she had since learned that despite his size, the great Alpha knew how to slip by humans undetected.
The dragonlings quickly scattered around the ledge, acting like they hadn't just tried to fly towards certain doom again, and soon devolved into their usual bouts of play-fighting. The Night Fury was the only one not to join, instead scaling a small stalagmite and perching there, sharp eyes scanning the cavern.
As Valka watched the little dragons seemingly innocently play around, the Night Fury watching over them like a tiny piece of night, she couldn't help but feel guilty.
In all the years she was in the Sanctuary, she frequently thought about going back to Berk, or at least checking on her family, but those ideas never got past the planning stage. There was always something she could use as an excuse for not going; injured dragons, newly hatched dragons, sick dragons, just dragons in general, but the truth was... she was scared.
Scared to go back and once again see all those faces marred with hatred against dragons, scared to see even more of it directed at her, and, most of all, scared to see the same expression on the faces of her husband and son.
That's why she swore to never go back, to disappear from their lives.
But if even orphaned hatchlings were more determined to return to the village she'd lived most of her life in... did that make her a failed chieftess? An uncaring wife? A negligent mother?
She had missed so much of her son's life, so many of his firsts. Would she even recognise Hiccup if he dropped down in front of her? Would he recognise her? Would Stoick?
She was shaken out of her less-than-cheerful musings when Cloudjumper nudged the back of her head. With a croon, he alerted her to the spot where the dragonlings were playing. It was empty.
Valka sighed when a muted explosion sent a wave of hot air rushing through the tunnel they'd returned through just a few minutes before. It was quickly becoming apparent that the little Zippleback was as prone to destruction as any adult of its species.
Mounting Cloudjumper, she took off to yet again bring the unruly dragonlings back to safety, thankful for the distraction.
But even as the howling of wind brought her thoughts elsewhere, she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something was about to happen.
After a successful test run of their first harness and a few hours of much-needed sleep, the riders were once again sat around the fireplace in Gothi's hut, gratefully drinking herb stew. Gothi wasn't among the best cooks on the island, but they very much preferred this meal over the awkward staring meals at Stoick's. It was also certainly better than A's offer.
"You know I really could cook something up. It's not like I have much to do around here anyways. I might even find what I need for my yaknog," the girl insisted after downing her portion.
H, who was currently putting the finishing adjustments on the third harness, froze mid-stitch and traded alarmed glances with S.
"N-no, really, it's fine!" he said quickly. "Gothi may not be a chef--" The old woman glared at him, already reaching for her staff. "--but her food is healthy and we need to keep a low profile. We don't want you to get discovered or ambushed by someone while gathering ingredients."
"I can easily take an attacker out with a kitchen knife or sickle," A said without a hint of humour, looking him dead in the eyes.
Before H could dig himself into an even deeper hole, F, who'd finished his meal earlier and was now back to reading Gothi's book, let out a strangled mix of a gasp, laugh, and yell. As everyone turned to him, he scrambled to stand up and promptly fell off the chair he was sitting on, taking the book with him. He quickly got back to his feet and hurried over to them, book hugged tightly to his chest.
When he reached them, he dropped the book on the ground, started jumping up and down and gesticulating wildly, all the while squealing at the top of his lungs like he did whenever he was too excited or nervous to actually use words.
"Fishlegs! Fishlegs, slow down and breathe! We can't understand a word you're saying," H tried to calm the boy when it became clear he wasn't about to collect himself any time soon.
With great effort, F forced himself to take two deep breaths and calm his flailing arms, but even then he couldn't fully stop bouncing when he spoke again.
"Sorry, sorry, I know. I've been trying to do something about that, but whenever something exciting happens I just can't control myself, and this is totally--"
"Oh, for the love of Thor, Fishface, just tell us what happened!" S cut off the Ingerman's starting rant.
F stopped, blinked, and then a huge grin split his face.
"I found it!" he squealed and started feverishly turning the book's pages. "I actually found it! I know what brought us back in time!"
Notes:
Slight cliffhanger maybe, but I promise you there are worse ones to come. I have started making almost too many of them :D
Chapter 17: How to Travel (Through Time)
Summary:
The riders finally find out what brought them back in time and what could bring them home again. In trying not to change anything, Hiccup makes a decision that will change everything
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
My name is Ferð, the third shaman of my beloved village, Berk.
What I have recently discovered had me branded a madman by my fellow Berkians, and perhaps that is for the best, for I, too, find this knowledge too dangerous to share with many of those roaming the Archipelago. Still, I record it in this tome for you, the future shamans of Berk, so that it is not forgotten and you may understand and help those that would find themselves in the same situation as I have.
"Well, he could have made it more easily accessible, then. Would it have been so hard to hang it up in the Great Hall or something? Make a yearly announcement for potential time travellers?"
"S, shush."
Weeks ago, strange new beasts have started roaming near our homes. Majestic, scaly creatures of various sizes, each possessing their own signature abilities. I was eager to study them and perhaps one day even befriend them. Images of our tribe high in the sky on the backs of those mighty creatures filled my dreams. The Chieftess was doubtful, still is. She fears these 'dragons' could bring destruction onto our village, but without some outer influence, I doubt that shall happen. For this reason, I began to look deeper into the world of dragons, and soon stumbled upon things no other Viking could even begin to dream of.
"Huh, who knew H used to be the shaman."
"Snotlout!"
Still, nothing could have prepared me for what happened eight moons ago. All it took was one wrong step while foraging, and my world was overtaken by golden dust. When I awoke, I found myself amidst a herd of frenzied boars, ready to tear me apart with their tusks. By some grace of Odin, I managed to chase them off, but when I got back to the village, I stumbled into a world -- or, as I would later find out, a time -- not my own. The houses I remembered standing tall were but small huts, the people, though bearing some form of resemblance, weren't those I had left back home, and their knowledge was a fragment of ours.
The position of shaman was occupied by a woman named Aevi, whom I had known as my elderly teacher, recently departed for the Halls of Valhalla. With her was a boy, her young apprentice that had barely begun training; me. It was then that I realised that, by some strange cause, I had travelled back in time. Not only that, no one could recognise me, as I suddenly had the appearance of a mighty warrior with scaly skin and voice like thunder.
"What?! He gets to become that and we get babies?! That is so not fair-- Ouch! Okay, okay! Shutting up."
Understandably, the Berkians of the past were wary of me. It was my younger self who was the only one able to hear my true voice, and it was my only luck that Aevi believed him when he told her my tale. If not for her help, I would have likely met the business end of the previous Chief's mace.
Aevi sent me away, to search for a way home beyond the Archipelago, and I discovered our world is much larger than I believed. The things I had seen in that time would fill entire books, but those are stories for another time.
Eventually, I found the cause of my travel through time and my strange change. The dust I had thought of as just a side effect of my regression was in fact the cause of it all. In reality, it was a flock of dragons so small that individually they are nearly invisible to the human eye.
The Time Sands, as I have taken the liberty to name them.
A stunned silence fell as the riders stared at the book in H's hands. H himself couldn't look away from the words he'd just read, various emotions warring with each other in his expression. He shook his head slightly and started reading again with even more interest than before.
I had observed one of their colonies for a long time and discovered much. They build their nests akin to bees, from a material I can only describe as powdered golden crystals. Should this nest be intruded upon, they have the ability to immediately disassemble it and use the intruder as a vessel to traverse time, hiding on their body in the process. Using the nest's materials, they can transform a person or animal into a version of themselves that would give them the best chance at survival in whichever time they move to. That is why I had transformed upon my arrival here; this form was intended to protect me from the frenzied boars. Though, how exactly they predict what form to take is still a mystery to me.
This same dust also has a calming ability on most living creatures, protecting the time traveller further. For some reason, however, this only works partially on my past self, even though for animals, I have not seen the same happen.
The Time Sands also appear to be highly intelligent, capable of understanding the needs of the one carrying them. I have seen multiple instances of wolves transforming from the cub versions they assumed to appease their pack into giants when they were threatened. The only limit for the transformation seem to be the resources.
The final goal of my search -- finding the way back my time -- turned out to be surprisingly simple.
"Simple?!" S screeched, and this time, no one held his indignation against him.
One way is to wait until the traversed time passes and the present counterpart of the time traveller disappears, which prompts the Time Sands to leave and search out a place for a new nest. The second option -- one that I opted for due to my desire to return home before I became an old man -- is to return the dragons to their original nest, and without them to anchor the traveller in time, they are dragged back to the future, shedding any illusion that had been cloaking them.
There was an almost electric energy in the hut now, and the riders were practically vibrating with excitement. H could feel his hands shaking, and had to consciously loosen his grip on the book so he wouldn't tear the frail pages.
This was their way home.
Armed with this knowledge, I returned to Berk, bade farewell to my teacher and myself, and finally made my way back home.
From the start of my entry, you know how the other Berkians reacted to the tale of my journey. In their time, I was missing for but a few days, and I am not sure whether anything I did in the past has changed the timeline. The changes I observed in the animal world were so small I couldn't say for sure, and while there are stories of a beastly man with a voice that calls on thunder circulating through the village, Berkians are a people of great imagination, so there is no saying whether those tales have anything to do with me.
Since my return, I have investigated many places and found traces of Time Sands almost everywhere. Working with them is a delicate process, and I will admit there have been more than a few accidents. Luckily, most of the nests I've seen are well hidden and tightly sealed to avoid predators, but I have found one, most likely recently created, while visiting a village of a tribe called the Berserkers. This one I have brought home with me to prevent any accidents, and I ask that you and every healer after you look after this nest and the knowledge of the Time Sands, so that it is never used for selfish reasons.
This is where my story ends, and I hope so does the Time Sands'.
Be cautious. Time is not a toy.
H finished reading and fell silent, leaving only the crackling of the fire to fill the room. Everyone was silently processing what they just heard, and even Gothi was deep in thought, staring at her predecessor's writing.
"Wow... so dragons are what took us into the past?" A breathed after a while, breaking the others out of their daze.
"And can we please go back to how those dragons are apparently on us right now?" S added, rubbing his arms as if to brush the minuscule dragons off.
H sighed, rubbing his temple. "That's what it looks like, S."
"And they can change our bodies? Wicked! Hey, dragons! Make me a Buffalord!" R yelled at her own stomach.
T shot his sister a disappointed look.
"Really, sis? A Buffalord? I mean, sure, the thing's cool and, like, crazy rare, but a Bewilderbeast definitely tops it."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you two, but I don't think you'll be changing into either of those," H said before the two Thorstons could go full Loki. "Ferð says that the Time Sands transform the traveller into a version of themselves, and also that they do it using the dust their nests are made of. So unless you're hiding some of that in in your tunics and have dragons in your family tree, I don't think you'll be shapeshifting any time soon."
"Aww, but that takes all the fun out of it!" the twins groaned in unison.
"Uh, did you guys forget what the most important part is? We finally have a way home!" F cheered, clapping his hands in excitement.
"Yeah, except we have no idea why and how would there be a Time Sand nest on a hunter ship or where is it now," A said with much less excitement.
The riders' mood faltered a little at the mention of their enemies.
Gothi, who had been quiet until then, tapped her staff against the floor to get their attention and pointed back to the book. She had turned the page while they were talking, showing that the next one had a wide array of sketches, the style reminiscent of those in H's notebook. Many of them depicted a dragon with a long body, its oval head sporting a snub nose with a thin horn that curved back to its forehead, and a tail almost twice as long as the rest of the dragon. A triangle was sketched on both of dragon's wings, their tips touching in the middle of the its back, creating the image of an hourglass.
"A Time Sand," F breathed in wonder, already copying the most detailed sketch on one of his blank dragon cards.
H was just about to do the same for his notebook when he noticed Gothi was pointing at one specific drawing that was not of the dragon. It depicted a chest covered in engravings that looked remarkably finely crafted even in the drawing. Underneath it was a short caption simply stating 'Keep Safe' in thick red ink.
It was a chest that was very familiar to one of the riders.
"Hey, that's mine!" S exclaimed. "I found that chest on the hunters' ship just before we got thrown into the arena. I lost it when that explosion knocked me into H. Why would that be in this book?"
H's heart dropped into his stomach when he realised the implication of what S said. F, realising the same thing, paled considerably.
"H, Y-you... you don't think..."
"That this chest is the Time Sand nest we're looking for? I do. And depending on where it is, we are either about to get home or into serious trouble." He turned to Gothi, expression slightly panicked. "Gothi, please tell me you have the chest with you."
The shaman took another long look at the drawing and her eyes momentarily sparked with recognition. She slowly scribbled out her answer.
"So you did have it, but you have no idea where it is now?" F read, for the first time actually hoping to get a staff to the head because he interpreted the drawing wrong.
Gothi nodded.
"Great, so that means the chest is now either somewhere on the entirety of Berk, which would take weeks to search again, or with the dragon hunters completely outside of the Archipelago, where everyone wants to kill us!" S groaned, throwing his hands up in resignation.
"Not... necessarily," H said slowly, growing visibly worried. His left foot was tapping out a steady rhythm, a nervous tick indicating what he was about to tell them would most likely put them in the path of a flying arrow -- both metaphorical and not.
A put a hand on his shoulder and managed to give him a reassuring smile despite not feeling quite sure of anything herself.
"Just tell us. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than going into Viggo's lair."
H grimaced.
"In our time, yes. Now... it's like choosing between R and T on who is going to be Chief, with S as the backup option." He threw a meaningful glance at the two Thorstons, whose rekindled argument over which dragon they'd want to transform into had devolved into a tug-of-war over T's helmet using their teeth. S let out an offended sound, but otherwise didn't protest. With how often he worked alongside H in their time, he came to know the position of Chief was definitely not for him.
H turned to Gothi, words feeling like ash on his tongue when he asked, "Gothi, did the chest go missing before or after Alvin the Treacherous was cast out from Berk?"
Gothi looked surprised at the seemingly random question, but after thinking for a bit, she scribbled out a short answer.
"She says it was the night after he'd been forced to leave the island. She knows because her hut had been ransacked then and she was making a list of what went missing to give to the Chief, and the chest was on there." F looked up from the drawing, voice choked. "Hiccup, what are you saying?"
"Well... remember how Alvin told us that the people that looted Outcast Island also stole some stuff from his house? What he complained about most was a chest that was one of the things that he 'borrowed' from Berk when he was banished," H said slowly.
T's helmet fell to the ground with a clang as the twins turned to look at him, their expressions for once perfectly mirroring the other riders' horror.
"Please tell me you're joking," S groaned.
"I wish I was, but I'm pretty sure this was the one. Alvin was really angry about losing it because he kept it under lock and key for years as his secret weapon. Apparently, one of his men tried to open it a few years back and disappeared, so Alvin thought he could use it to vanish his enemies but never got the chance to use it."
"So you're saying that the chest," F began.
"Our only way home," A continued.
"Is currently on Outcast island, in the hands of Alvin the Treacherous," H finished weakly.
The silence at his words was loud enough to hear the drunken cheering of someone down in the village. S broke it when he laughed, slightly hysteric.
"Right. So, where are we going to spend the next six years? I hear Changewing Island is lovely this time of year."
"We are not doing that," H interrupted, even though the offer sounded quite appealing to him at the moment. "We have to get back. I know this situation isn't ideal, but we've been in far worse."
S huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
"We're talking about us, a group of Berkian dragon riders that can currently barely defend themselves against a Terrible Terror, going right into the lair of a man who hates Berk, dragons, Stoick, and anything related to any of those three. And we are all three of those!"
"Oh, come on, Alvin isn't so bad," H protested half-heartedly.
"In our time, maybe, but he tried to kill us multiple times before he allied with Berk! Did you forget what happened when we got stranded on Outcast?"
"Dagur hunted us too, and you basically worshiped him for years," F pointed out, flinching back when the Jorgenson shot him a glare.
"Look, something about that guy just rubs me the wrong way, okay? And... if he really is the one who has the chest, then that could mean our dragons, and maybe even Dagur and Heather landed on Outcast. I don't want to think about that," S mumbled.
It was an unnerving thought, but also another reason for them to leave. If their dragons truly landed on Outcast, none of the riders doubted they would still be alive and waiting for them.
"Well, it's either getting that chest from Alvin or waiting for Stoick to find out we ride dragons," A said, both to try convince S and lighten the mood.
S froze and then sighed.
"Let's go get that damn chest."
It was nearing noon when Hiccup, looking exactly like he just spent the night sneaking around Berk and then slept in the Cove, emerged on the outskirts of the village and started dragging himself towards his house. Overhead, dark storm clouds were steadily making their way from the south, and although the wind carrying them was warm, the drop in temperature was unmistakable.
Not even hours of talking with -- or mostly at -- Toothless and a morning flight before they parted was enough to answer Hiccup's question of 'What the Hel was he supposed to do now?!'
How was he supposed to tell anyone that there were apparently time travellers in their midst?
How was he supposed to tell them it was him and the other teens?
How was he supposed to tell them they were dragon riders?
And, oh Thor, what was he going to do once Astrid approached him to investigate again? Should he just quit outright? Or should he try to sabotage her efforts even if it meant risking their newfound friendship to preserve the future? But what if that ended up disrupting the timeline anyways?
He stopped and massaged his temples, trying to make his thoughts slow down so he wouldn't get tangled up in them even more.
Planning for a time paradox would come later. All he wanted now was to get some sleep in an actual bed, at least until the aforementioned blacksmith inevitably found him and gave him a lecture about ditching training and work, no doubt making jabs about him taking cues from Astrid. Come to think of it, he would have to ask her about that. Astrid was a lot of things, but she wasn't someone who would skip training for no reason.
As Gobber would say, "Yer shaping a sword while still tempering a dagger. Now put that sword down, Hiccup!" In translation; take things one at a time.
But when he rounded the corner and his house came into view, it quickly became obvious that time wasn't at his side, as he came face to face with a very dishevelled Astrid. He couldn't exactly check, but he was pretty sure she looked even worse than he did, like she'd been running through the forest for a couple hours longer than him and got even less sleep.
When Astrid realised who she ran into, her face momentarily morphed into something akin to relief before settling into the much more expected anger.
"Where have you been?!" she shrieked, grabbing his collar and shaking him. "Your father said you were at the forge, but Gobber said you must have left even before morning. Do you know how long I've been looking for you?! I thought something happened to you! I thought those kids took you, or that a dragon carried you off, or--"
She cut herself off and looked away, the tips of her ears reddening slightly. But Hiccup didn't notice this because his brain was already hard at work trying to figure out an excuse.
"I-I actually was at the forge. For a while. B-but then some... things happened and I was kind of all around the place..." Seeing the darkening expression on Astrid's face he scrambled to change the topic. "Uh, but m-more importantly, Astrid, why did you leave training yesterday? Did those children--"
That seemed to finally remind Astrid why she was searching for him in the first place, and all embarrassment was forgotten. She pulled Hiccup closer, eyes alight with a vengeful fire.
"The kids! Hiccup, I heard them! I finally heard them! Last night in the forest, one of them tried to brainwash me, I'm sure of it! They can talk and they have control over dragons! Now all we have to do is drag them to the Chief and everything can go back to normal!"
Hiccup's breath hitched, and not just because the collar of his tunic was half strangling him. One of the (probably?) time travellers confronted Astrid? Was this something that was supposed to happen or just a terrible accident?
Desperate to buy more time, he latched onto the last words Astrid said, which, strangely enough, bothered him almost as much as his worries about the future. What a strange order of priorities he suddenly had.
"Is... is that really what you want? To go back to how it was? Training, competing against each other, dragon attacks, raids... me being the village runt?" he asked quietly.
Astrid paused and let go of him, looking as if she'd been doused in cold water.
"Well... no, not all of it. I mean... we don't have to start fighting again. I need someone to actually test my skills in dragon training, but that doesn't mean we can't be... friendly outside the arena. And it's not like the children are the reason you aren't a nobody anymore, right?"
When Hiccup didn't answer and only looked guiltier, Astrid stepped back, a barely noticeable tremble in her fingers.
"Hiccup... where were you tonight?" she asked slowly.
Hiccup hesitantly lifted his eyes to meet hers.
The fire was gone now, leaving two pools of sky-blue filled with uncertainty, suspicion, and the same strange fear he'd heard in her voice before. She wasn't yelling at him, wasn't shaking or attacking him. She was waiting for his answer, giving him the trust he'd earned over the days they'd spent together.
And in that one moment, Hiccup knew he couldn't lie to her anymore.
He took a deep breath to clear his head and said, "I wasn't lying, Astrid. I really was at the forge, but then I saw something I shouldn't have and had to find somewhere to clear my head. I know you want to ask me what I saw and where I went, and I promise I'm going to tell you, but before I do that, I want to-- No. I have to show you something."
Astrid scowled and crossed her arms.
"Hiccup, I swear if you're just trying to change the topic again--"
"I'm not! Look, I know you've been trying to find out how I suddenly got good at dragon training. Well, this is it. What I want to show you is the reason for everything."
Astrid's eyebrows shot up. She loathed to admit it, but that intrigued her. She was still skeptical but... what was the worst that could happen?
"All right, I'll bite. But try to trick me and you'll be begging me to feed you to a dragon."
Hiccup chuckled slightly, even though his insides were being twisted into nervous knots.
"You can try once we get there. But when we do, I'll need you to follow my lead, Astrid, otherwise it could end badly."
Astrid wanted to snap back about how no one could tell her what to do, but Hiccup's sudden seriousness was so unusual that she could only nod. Whatever he was about to show her changed his entire demeanour within seconds. The nervous boy that could barely utter a complete sentence around her was gone, his usual awkwardness replaced with an underlying anxiety settled deep in his eyes.
And as he turned around to lead her out of the village, for the first time of many to come, Astrid saw a glimpse of someone other than the village runt.
She was looking at her future chief.
Notes:
Woo, we've finaly caught up and we're nearing the first (and second) of many reveals to come in this fic! Hope you guys are ready because things are really about to go crazy.
Ps. Just as a heads-up, chapters will start coming roughly every Monday instead of dailly now. Don't worry, I'm not going to disappear again, this was always the plan for once we got caught up to the original. If I get the chapters ready in time, I might post them a bit earlier, but there will always be at least one chapter per week.
So, yeah, see ya in the next one
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