#Hiccup x reader
Note
Hello ! Sorry for my bad English, it's not my first language I do my best
First of all, I love how you write <3
Second, my request would be Hiccup getting jealous and confessing to fem!reader by accident
That's all !
Thanks for writing so well, I send you a little kiss
Hello!
Congrats you’re my first request!
I hope I could do your request justice, enjoy
Just Talk To Me!
Hiccup x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k words
Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you why.
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“You’re getting better at this!” Eret praised, ducking under your fist as you swung at him. He continued to dodge your strikes as you smiled.
You both had begun sparring together a few months ago, after the whole Dragon War fiasco. You realized that without your dragon, you weren’t as strong or as agile as the other Vikings, so you asked Eret to help you train.
You swept your foot under him, finally taking him down and putting your foot on his chest, signifying that you had one the fight.
“Have I gotten better, or have you just gotten worse?” You asked teasingly, taking your foot off of him as he smiled up at you.
You held out your hand to help him up. He obliged, taking it as he stood up once again, wiping off his clothes from that dust that truly didn’t even seem to be there.
“You’ve certainly made improvements since day one. I can tell you that.” He said, stretching a bit. “You could definitely do well even without your dragon, if you’d ever need to.” He continued, looking back at both of your dragons who were simply chilling off to the side, as they often did when you two fought.
“Hopefully there never comes a time.” You said in a lighthearted tone, but you truly hoped there would never be a time where you’d have to fair without your dragon.
“I second that. It’s funny, I never thought I’d ever change my ways when it came to dragons. Yet here I am, looking after this beast.” Eret joked, patting Skull Crushers head lightly causing the dragon to groan and slightly shake its head in response.
“Well I’m glad you had it in you to change, who knows maybe I would’ve taken you down myself.” You gloated sarcastically, walking towards the pair as Eret smiled back at you, acknowledging your joke.
“Yeah you wouldn’t have made it even close.” He let out a chuckle as he watched your teasing smirk turn to a pout. You knew his teasing was all in good fun but realistically if it had come to it you would’ve taken him out if you needed to.
“Just cause I’ve gotten better doesn’t mean I wasn’t skilled to begin with.” You reminded.
“Fair. Now how about best two out of three?” Eret asked, getting into a fighting stance which you very quickly mimicked. Just as you both were about to start fighting you had heard a very familiar growl come from above. Your head shot up towards the noise and you spotted none other than Hiccup Haddock, the chief of Berk, flying above you.
“Guess not.” You joked, no longer standing in a ready position as you turned to face the aforementioned chief who had landed not too far away from the both of you. Hiccup hopped off of Toothless with ease, slipping his helmet off in the process, and walked over to the two of you with Toothless close behind.
“Morning you two.” Hiccup greated, earning a nod of acknowledgement from the both of you. “What are you guys doing all the way out here?” He asked but you noticed it wasn’t in the sense of his usual curiosity. There was an underlying tone that you could quite put your finger on so you figured you were just simply thinking too much into it.
You hadn’t really thought about it but you suppose you and Eret were more or less in the middle of nowhere in the woods. It was the most quiet place the two of you could find to practice in peace without going to the Arena.
“Eret and I have been sparring, I figured I should eventually learn how, considering most of my strength comes from them.” You said, gesturing to your dragon who was sleeping peacefully only to be startled awake by Toothless patting them on the head. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, Toothless always reminded you of a cat in a way, you found it adorable.
“Alone?” Hiccup asked, which honestly surprised the both of you. You looked towards hiccup in confusion only to see the shock he had on his own face. Clearly he didn’t mean to let it slip out but it was too late to take it back now.
“Well no… our dragons are here with us?” You stated but you were so confused about the reasoning behind Hiccups question that you couldn’t seem to phrase it as anything other than a question. You all fell silent as Hiccup swayed his arms in an awkward fashion, something he only does when he’s trying to avoid talking about something.
Eret looked between the two of you, realizing he had no part in the conversation he simply cleared his throat.
“I’ll just leave you two be, I have some… things to take care of..” He excused himself, quickly hopping onto Skullcrusher and exiting the awkward situation as quickly as possible. Once Eret had flown away you quickly turned back to Hiccup who was clearly avoiding even looking in your general direction.
“Spill it.” You said bluntly causing Hiccup to finally make eye contact with you. His face held a confused look but you both knew what you were talking about.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Hiccup said, again clearly avoiding the topic as he walked over to Toothless. “Have you seen the new addition I added to Toothless’s tail?” It was clear he was trying to think of anything to change the subject because obviously there was nothing different about Toothless’s tail and you both knew that.
You crossed your arms as you stared at the brunette before you, your face holding an expression that clearly said ‘seriously?’. He dropped Toothless’s tail with a sigh before getting up and walking towards you. Silence quickly swept over the two of you as you continued to wait for Hiccup to say something. You raised an eyebrow at him before he blurted out,
“Have you seen the new scale armor?”, giving one more quick shot to derail the conversation.
“Hiccup.” You said quite sternly. “Spill it.” You repeated, your arms still crossed over your chest as you watched the man nervously fidget. He may be the chief but he still held some of his nervous quirks. Sure he had the ability to look powerful and calm when his people needed their chief, but when he wasn’t the ‘Chief of Berk’ he was just Hiccup.
Just Hiccup.
And you’d be damned if you said you didn’t love him. Ever since you met hiccup you knew he always tried to meet everyone’s expectations only to have a long history of falling short. Hiccup as he was was always overlooked, everyone looked to him to be ‘the Chiefs son’ the ‘next chief of Berk’ and the one he really struggled with, was ‘Stoick’s son’. No one ever truly looked at him as just Hiccup.
Well everyone except you.
You liked him from the very beginning when he was just a scrawny boy obsessed with earning his fathers approval. Did you have the courage to say anything about the way you felt? No of course not, why would you? As much as you loved to see him as ‘Just Hiccup’ you couldn’t deny the fact that he was still pretty far out of your league, especially given his title of ‘The Dragon Master’. What title did you have? Nothing.
Well you had the title of being one of his closest friends so you stuck with that as being enough for you.
“I just don’t think you and Eret should be so far away while training.” He finally spoke up. It was clear he was still keeping something from you but at least he gave you something to work with.
“Why?” You asked, trying to nudge more out of him. He put his hands on his hips. As he began to pace slowly in a circle.
“I don’t know, I just think it would be safer if you-“ Hiccup began only for you to cut him off.
“Hiccup we have two dragons here, one of them being Skull Crusher. I’d say it’s pretty safe to say nothings going to attack us out here.” You argued, now mimicking his pose with your hands on your hips.
“Well still I just don’t like the idea of you guys being alone.” He said, looking up at you. You rolled your eyes in response,
“Hiccup I already said, we’re here with the dragons. We’re not alone.” You stated as if it wasn’t getting through his head. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he was trying to hint at a different concern and you were missing the point entirely.
Your response only caused Hiccup to groan as his hand shot up to his face. He dragged his hands down his face as he turned around, now facing Toothless who simply looked at his friend in utter confusion. The dragon looked from you, then to Hiccup, then back to you. You simply shook your head with a shrug of your shoulders before Toothless walked away, deeming him your problem.
“Hiccup I don't understand why this is such a big issue to you, we used to be in the woods alone all the time together. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.” You stated quite bluntly.
“That was different!” He shouted. His face had ever so slightly turned the faintest hint of red, but it was still enough for you to notice. He seemed almost exasperated as you continued to swim around the very vague point that he was failing to get at.
“How was it any different than what me and Eret are doing? If anything it’s safer now because we’re both adults. Granted we did have a Night Fury with us back then…” You began to mumble to yourself, accidentally going off topic. Hiccup sighed, walking up to you and grabbing you by your shoulders. He was stern but still managed to be gentle as he forced you to look at him.
“I can’t control what you do or who you spend your time with, but I just don’t like that you and Eret spend so much time together, so far outside of the village, alone…” Hiccup said, practically laying it all out for you.
“Hiccup?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re not alone.”
Hiccup merely stared at you, eyes wide in shock as he tried to calculate your intelligence in that split second. He practically spelled it out for you and you still weren’t getting it.
What hadn’t occurred to him however, was that you had already caught on, you were just trying to get him to admit it himself. Granted, you had just caught on maybe seconds before, but you still thought it might be fun to mess with him a little. Besides, who were you to make the assumption that the Chief of Berk himself was jealous that you were spending time with another man. It could be considered a reach… Unless he just said it himself.
“Why don’t you want me to be alone with him so badly?” You asked, figuring you should try and at least break the loop that you two seemed to be stuck in.
“Because…” Hiccup began, trying to think of a way to phrase what he wanted to say. You waited patiently, just looking at him and occasionally switching your gaze over to the dragons who were chasing each other around.
“Because?” You repeated, waiting for his response. His green eyes staring back into yours. They looked almost as if they were trembling as they bounced between the features on your face.
“Why is it so hard to talk to you?” He shouted abruptly, quickly letting go of your shoulders and flung his arms into the air with an exasperated groan.
“If it was easier for you to tell me about the dragon you were keeping hidden from a village filled with bloodthirsty, war hungry Vikings, I’ m almost afraid of whatever this could possibly be.” You joked, trying to lighten his mood.
“It’s not the same thing.” He muttered in response as you laughed.
“How could anything you have to tell me be worse than that?” Hiccup sighed in response as he went back to pacing. Clearly it was his way of thinking about what to do next. It wasn’t a trait he often exhibited but you knew once he started pacing, whatever he was thinking about was pretty serious.
“It’s not about what I have to tell you, it’s about your response.” He finally said, you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. You’ve known this man for years, and in those years you’ve learned countless embarrassing facts about him that he had less of a problem about you knowing than ‘whatever he had to tell you’.
“What does my response have to do with anything? Hiccup, anything you have to tell me won't change anything.” You stated with a laugh as you tried to comfort him. You almost started to second guess what you thought he was going to tell you. If he was truly this worried about what he was going to say maybe it was actually a very serious matter?
“Ha, yeah you say that now.” He laughed sarcastically, quickly looking up at you before returning to his pacing.
“Hiccup, I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
If there’s one thing about Hiccup it was his stubbornness. Anyone would just shrug that off as a Viking thing but you knew if anything, it came from his father. As much as Hiccup would deny being able to compare to his father, he shared many similar traits with him. You knew it, his mother knew it, even Gobber knew it, but he frequently denied it.
Stubborn.
“Why are you so concerned about me and Eret in the first place?” You decided to bring up the last topic, because if he wasn’t going to get to the point, you were.
“Because…” He muttered quietly in response as if he was holding something back.
“Because what hiccup? Seriously, I know you have an issue with communication sometimes but you can't just keep dancing around the issue here-“ You rambled a bit but before you could continue, Hiccup interrupted you.
“Because I have feelings for you!” He blurted out suddenly.
You both froze. He turned away from you as you simply stared at him. He finally said it, he actually really said it.
“Hiccup…” You muttered quietly.
He didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. The last thing he wanted right now was to turn around and have to face the potential of rejection.
“Hiccup.” You called out again, walking towards him and lightly placing your hand on his shoulder. He finally turned towards you slightly, but he still refused to face you all the way. “You’re serious?” You asked, to which he simply looked at you with confusion.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“At least one of us finally admitted to it.” You joked. For some reason Hiccup had registered that you were making a joke, but not necessarily what you were joking about.
“Yeah okay, go on, laugh it out- wait.” Hiccup quickly turned back to you. You nodded with a smile, confirming his suspicion as he clearly thought he had misheard you.
“Wait but- for how long?” He asked excitedly, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Oh this is great! I thought you were going to hate me for even saying anything about it, but you’re not! You feel the same-“ He cheered, slightly beginning to ramble as all of his previous anxiety seemed to just melt away.
You smiled as you watched him celebrate before quickly planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
The man froze before you, clearly not expecting even such a small act of affection. You never knew him to be entirely bold, you always saw him as a very awkward man, but you watched as the awkwardness practically jumped out a window for a split second or so as Hiccup grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.
He was the last person you’d expect such a smooth act to come from, and honestly you didn’t mind it. His eyes drifted from yours to your lips in a matter of seconds as if he was silently asking for your approval, to which you nodded.
Before you knew it you were kissing the literal man of your dreams.
It was wonderful.
It was a very soft kiss, the perfect kind to be shared for the first time.
Once you pulled away you looked to hiccup before dramatically gasping.
“What? What is it?” Hiccup asked, panicking that he had done something wrong.
“Does that mean… you were jealous of Eret?” You asked with a joking smile.
“Oh come on- really?” Hiccup said, jokingly pushing you away with a laugh.
Safe to say you never let him live this moment down, and much to his dismay you had excitedly told your friends about it not too long after.
#httyd#httyd fanfiction#x reader#httyd fandom#hiccup#hiccup and toothless#hiccup haddock#httyd x reader#httyd fanfics#httyd hiccup#httyd 3#httyd 2#x gn reader#jealousy#jealousy fic#fun times for all#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup x reader#hiccuphorrendoushaddockiii#hiccup how to train your dragon#httyd eret#eret son of eret#eret
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boy; girl; dragon
Hiccup only needs two things. He knows he can rely on both forever.
masterlist
There is a boy, and he has a girl. And also a dragon.
The order matters. He had the girl first, even if he didn’t know it yet. She didn’t say a word to him about the feeling beating against the bars of her ribs like a dove in a cage, not until he did first. The dragon helped things along, surprisingly. Usually, fire-breathing reptiles can only complicate a situation, but when two young people are soaring through the sky with only the billowing light of the sun and stars around them to bear witness to the truths they have to tell, secrets end up not so secret anymore. Hiccup told you he loved you. You said the same.
The dragon watched, and listened, and waited. It, of course, had known the whole time. Almost everyone did. Tact is a rare occurrence among the Vikings, but the people of Berk could tell that interference in the story of you and him, him and you, would not bode well. You and Hiccup were something different, something special. You didn’t need anyone but each other. And the dragon.
Loving a Viking is dangerous. Loving Hiccup was so far along the line of adventure and risk that even your first kiss felt like throwing off your armor to embrace a knife in your chest. If this was pain, though, it was the loveliest anguish you had ever experienced in your entire life. Falling in love with Hiccup was brilliant, like dragonfire; exhilarating, like tumbling in freefall; unfailing, like the son of a chieftain knowing that he would send his entire village to keep you safe from harm or die trying. Staying in love with him was soft torchlight, quiet mornings, wispy clouds around your temples when he took you up to see the stars. Easy. Perfect. And yours, all yours.
The two of you are together now, sitting side by side on the edge of a cliff. Most of Berk is rocky with occasional splashes of slate blue or chestnut wood to break up the monotonous grey, but tenacious patches of grass have managed to crawl up to the top of the cliffside here, providing you with a threadbare emerald blanket on which you can rest your legs.
A cool wind whistles through the air, toying with your hair and clothes before plunging off the edge of the rock face. You watch it go, taking a few errant leaves with it, and consider the drop down to the sea below you.
“If I fell right now,” you say to Hiccup, “off the side, you would catch me.”
“I would catch you,” he affirms. “Dragon or no dragon.”
“What if I fell too fast and you couldn’t reach me in time?” You ask.
He takes your hand, voice soft and gentle in the early morning. You’ve heard him louder and more assertive when directing the villagers, but you like him best like this, when Hiccup’s peace is only ever meant for you. There is an entirely different young man who exists only when he’s alone with you, a Hiccup that no one will ever know as well as you do. It is a delight to keep the secret of this second, inner boy. It’s a treasure that will only ever be claimed by you, a sparkling spread of gold and jewels captive to one person and one person alone. Not even blood relations can claim that sort of glory.
“There is nowhere you could go that I would not follow,” Hiccup asserts. “Not off the cliff. Not into the sky. I would follow you past the sun, or a hundred thousand lengths in the sea. I would search the world to find you, if I had to, and I would bring you back with me. Always. Do you believe me?”
“I do,” you whisper. “Always.”
“Always,” he repeats, and presses a kiss to your temple.
This is loving Hiccup, then. Always. Always the guarantee of a heart beating in tandem with yours. Always the confidence that you will not be alone in this world of yours, even as it seems to stretch out forever, even as it looms to hide a hundred friends or a thousand enemies. If the odds are with you or against you, you will have Hiccup to guide you through the trials and tribulations of this life of yours. It is written in the stars, and it is sworn by the one you love. No promise could be greater.
The two of you will descend into legend, into myth, into folklore. Never in the world have any two people loved each other more, and never will they again. Every young pair thinks that they could have this, a love to last a lifetime, but you and Hiccup will do them one better and last a thousand more. You could love him in every universe, every incarnation of yourselves, and Hiccup has already promised to be by your side no matter who you two were. Gods, maybe. Heroes or villains. Ordinary lives or glorious ones. All of them will feature the two of you together. Always.
A shadow briefly blots out the sun overhead, a pair of jet-black wings soaring through the early morning skies. As it loops and wheels towards the two of you, its shade flickers across the trees, dappling them with night’s fury even as the sun climbs higher into the sky. It occurs to you that you’d like every day to start and end like this one, for each one of your hours to be filled with this sort of blissful joy. You don’t need riches, you don’t need a legacy. All you need is right here before you. A boy and a girl. And also a dragon.
disney tag list: @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @avadakadabra93
also tagging @hope92100 bc HICCUP
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#hiccup#hiccup imagines#hiccup x reader#hiccup oneshot#hiccup haddock#hiccup haddock imagines#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup haddock oneshot#httyd#httyd imagines#httyd x reader#httyd oneshot#httyd hiccup#httyd hiccup imagines#httyd hiccup x reader#httyd hiccup oneshot#how to train your dragon#how to train your dragon imagines#how to train your dragon x reader#how to train your dragon oneshot#disney#disney imagines#disney x reader#disney oneshot
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(got bored and decided to write this so enjoy and please tell me if you would like more HTTYD in the future in the comments!)
The Gates Of Valhalla
Hiccup couldn't do anything but stare, wide eyed at you in front of him.
He could feel the world blur around him, his breathing picking up as he looked down at you, laying on the sand surrounded by the blue ice, eyes closed.
Chest never moving.
Hiccup could hear people talking, people like his mother and father, his father's hand on his shoulder as Hiccup tried his best to wake up from the nightmare.
He didn't.
"No…no, no, no! Oh, gods, no!" Hiccup cried out, quickly falling to his knees as he grabbed you, bringing you closer to him.
Almost on his lap, Hiccup checked for any sign, anything, that you were still in there.
He could feel the dread, the tears pricking his eyes and the hand of his father, his mother's stare at him as he checked for anything.
He looked for the small twitch in your face he saw every morning he woke up to you. He looked for the pattern your chest rose and fell, a rhythm he loved to feel while his head laid on your chest.
Hiccup cried, a tear falling down his face as he never found one movement.
He still prayed, putting his head to your heart to listen to the familiar best he used to calm down, only to find absolute silence.
You were gone.
Drago and his own dragon, a self proclaimed Alpha, owned by him, had sentenced you to your death.
Or rather, they had sentenced Hiccup to his death, but you being you, jumped in the way to sacrifice yourself, saving Hiccup's life, and forfeiting your own.
But all they did was sentence Hiccup to something far worse than death.
A life without you.
And they used Toothless to do their dirty work.
Hiccup heard the small growl of your own dragon, the way they nozelled their snout against your arm, trying to nudge you awake like they did every morning
You never moved.
Your eyes remained closed, Hiccup's eyes remained on your face, his hand cupping your cheek as he cried, crying for you to come back.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
Everything blurred into thin lines, all Hiccup could do was watch as just mere minutes, or an hour he didn't know, Toothless was taken by Drago, along with your life.
Hiccup and the rest of the dragon riders, your friends, Gobber and his mother and father, Valka and Stoick the Vast, all stood alongside the shore.
Hiccup had to be pried away from you, crying and clinging on to the love of his life, in order to place you on the shop, a sheet over you to send you off to the Gates of Valhalla.
Hiccup watched as his friends mourned. Never did he think he would see the day his own father cried, mourning the loss of a child who wasn't even his, but one he watched grow up alongside him.
Hiccup starred as the ship slowly sailed off, a bow and flaming arrow in his hand, limping held with a heavy heart as he watched you leave.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
You were supposed to come home with Hiccup. You were supposed to get older, beside Hiccup and your dragon.
Hiccup was supposed to be the cause of the laugh and smile wrinkles on your face as you got older.
Hiccup was meant to stand before you and reiterate an oath he did when you guys stood in the woods as mere seven year olds, promising to marry and to stay by each other's side.
Hiccup couldn't help but be angry at himself and you. It was meant to be him. Not you. He was meant to be lying under that sheet. Not you.
The anger didn't last long, the sadness and heavy feeling in his chest overpowering it.
With a small nudge from his mother, Hiccup let one more tear fall, before his trembling hand lifted his arrow, notching it back.
Hiccup closed his eyes, turning his head away as he let it go.
Hiccup only opened his eyes once more when he heard every arrow stop, looking up to see your ship engulfed in flames.
It was the burial of a viking. One you would have wanted.
But Hiccup would've rather had you standing beside him, rather than leaving him behind with your memory.
"...Hiccup."
Hiccup barely looked at his father, his hand now coming back to rest on his shoulder. Hiccup didn't answer, looking back as your ship was almost engulfed in the fog, the flames growing bigger.
Hiccup had to say goodbye, with a heavy and hesitant heart, anger, fear and sadness creeping down into his gut.
It should've been him. Not you.
He shouldn't mourn the love of his life at a mere twenty years old, and even if he spent those twenty years with you, he would have to go on, grow older, as you were forever twenty.
"...I pray to the gods I will find you waiting at the gates of Valhalla, (Name)."
#httyd#httyd x reader#how to train your dragon#hiccup haddock#hiccup#hiccup x reader#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup haddock x you#hiccup httyd#hiccup how to train your dragon#hiccup x you#how to train your dragon x reader#how to train your dragon 2
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Man your work is great :D could you do Astrid hiccup tuffnut ruffnut and snotlout with a small jolly reader(4 feet tall) that riders screaming death or a titan wing catastrophic quaken.(I just like the this short joyful person next a GIANT creature that looks like it squash you like a bug it's just a bit funny to me XD)
Astrid,hiccup,the twins(separately) and snotlout x reader who’s a short ball of joy and rides a screaming death
Decided to do screaming death cus I love them
<<WARNINGS:abit of angst,snotlout not likeing spitelout,mentions of injuries(dragons mainly),snotlout needs a hug,spelling errors probally>>can you tell I don’t know how to do warnings?
HAS BEEN PROOF-READ
Astrid
She is absolutely stunned
Your so tiny.and yet you managed to tame the screaming death
She nearly had a heart attack the first time stormfly and the screaming death play fought,she still nearly dose after she gets used to them
She knows your screaming death won’t hurt stormfly,but as the good dragon rider she is she gets worried for her dragon
She may not admit it but she’s extremely cocky over the fact that one of the dragon riders on their side managed to tame the screaming death,with is defiantly no easy feat 💀
She genuinely questions you on how on earth you managed to tame the screaming death
She’s amused by the size difference between you and your dragon
Little ball of joy and a island destroying demon/pos
Due to your small size she can easily pick you up
She picks you up under your arms and you can only dangle there
You’ll just have to hope your screaming death is feeling nice and might scare Astrid to put you down
Don’t think you being small is all fun though.
Is stormfly is particularly pissed off by the screaming death she will pick you up by the scruff of the neck and run/fly off with you
A chase will ensue,that may or may not have to end up with hiccup and/or having to sort it out
She admires how you can stay so sweet and joyful
She may or may not admit it but she adores your personality,in hard times you can seem like a bright light in a endlessly dark hallway,and she couldn’t be more grateful
Hiccup
Also nearly has a heart attack
The screaming death defiantly had some bad blood with him and toothless
But with you,it’s like a big cat/dog and almost completely docile
How?
Ok well maybe the fact that he made the screaming death plummet face first into a rock wouldn’t help
Your tinny compared to hiccup and even tinier compared to the screaming death
He worries that you may become a large target for dragon hunters
Toothless and the screaming death,don’t exactly get along
I mean years of hatred and bad blood isn’t going to fix easily…
But the you and hiccup will find them curled up together
You don’t understand them but that’s ok
He asks if he can examine the screaming death,or maybe ride it.riding is a less likely option though 💀
He will wince or cringe if he sees any scars or damage he may have caused
He can relate to you being positive and joyful alot
But can also be abit jealous,how can you stay so joyful even in some of the most stressfull situations
He’s so unimaginabley grateful that your there for him during the entire time
You decrease his stress tones
It also feels like a weight off of his shoulders with the burden of having such a great relationship with a endangered and powerful dragon,you’ll stick together and get through it though
He also picks you up,and makes fun of your height.
Ruffnut
Probally one of the only ones who dosnt almost have a heart attack
If anything she’s jealous that you managed to tame such a cool and destructive dragon
Begs asks if she can have a ride just one please?
Will try everything and anything with the screaming death
You will need to supervise 24/7 sorry not sorry
She brags about you all the time
She loves your short size and will toss you over her shoulder/hold you like a log
She’s teases you about your size WAY to much,please tell her to put a sock in it T.T
Barf,belch and the screaming death become the faces of Loki day
Barf and belches personality might have slightly affected your dragon but oh well
Loves to cause distruction with you
If you don’t go on a mission she’s not going either,even if tuffnut begs.
She enjoys your joyful personality and loves that there’s someone that slightly carefree
She also feels like she can be more reckless now that there’s a island destroying dragon on the riders team
You will have to keep an eye on her,or lecture her.either works
Will Loki you hard,unless the screaming death is around.she dosnt want to become 🧀 today thanks
Tuffnut
Also dosnt get a heart attack
Instead he gets destructive zoomies
He begs you,like hands and knees and everything
For one chance to either ride or cause destruction with the screaming death
Jokes on you though if you say yes to either,the other will happen anyways.there’s no winning in this situation sorry
Surprisingly knows when to give the screaming death space
He��s reckless but sensible
Will bribe the screaming death to go on destructive trips constantly
He makes fun of your height,more than ruffnut
Chiken and the screaming death surprisingly get along the best,unlikely but wholesome friendship for the win
Chiken by proxy loves you a lot aswell
So if tuffnut loses chiken he checks you and the screaming death basically first
Somehow carries around a stall with him so you can get to high places when need be
Will kick ruffnut off barf and belch for a ride if you asked
Man Is whipped for you
Don’t leave tuffnut alone with the screaming death though,either he or someone else will die
He at some point becomes something of a second rider to the screaming death,it’s a lot of bribing and treats though and also the fact that he encourages the screaming deaths destructive tendencies
He likes your joyful ness,will also try to bribe you to help him get out of situations he gets himself into
Snotlout
Probally faints during first encounter
Is very worried for everyone’s saftey,it’s a similar situation as to when they took in the injured singetail
Complains a lot about the fact that allowed to bring the SCREAMING DEATH to berk/the edge
He admires you Aton
Your short,shorter then him and look at you go!
Gets a bit jealous of you and may think he’s not good enough
Give him a hug :(
One time during the longest day he ended up snuggling against the screaming death,and survived.after that day they grew abit closer which was sweet
He enjoys your optimism and it’s a good balance since he can be abit pessimistic sometimes
If his dad ever comes to visit and your around he finds himself gravitating towards you,he feels safe with you
Hook fang and the screaming death like tug of war.why?,who knows
They like to play catch with each other aswell,again no idea why
He asks if you want to ride with him and hookfang quite a lot,it’s his way of non verbally getting recognition and validation
He finds himself being a lot less pessimistic when your around and just in general,your jolly personality is infective and effective
He likes to just hug you when he’s feeling down of tired
He picks you up places you in places where you can’t get down easily
He pisses off the screaming death.quite a lot
He likes writing books for you and indulging in your hobbies aswell
Shows you off a ton,as long as you don’t mind though,he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable
He likes knitting things for you
He also likes it when you both are in the same room,you can be doing something different or even just being quiet,as long as your there he doesn’t mind
He likes to spar alot aswell,but he never lets it get to the point where either of you get hurt
He’s very protective of you despite the fact he dosnt really need to be
He just cares alot
#how to train your dragon#httyd#httyd x reader#how to train your dragon x reader#hiccup x reader#hiccup haddock x reader#astrid x reader#astrid hofferson x reader#ruffnut x reader#tuffnut x reader#snotlout x reader#snotlout jorgenson#hiccup#astrid#astrid hofferson#tuffnut thorston#ruffnut and tuffnut#ruffnut thorston#httyd snotlout#x reader#my writing#damn it’s been a while since I wrote#I can’t remember what my tag was called for my writing#cattonic writes#i havnt used my writing tag in so long it didn’t come up 😭#I had to check 💀
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ᴀ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜ & ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ───── ♛
pairing: evil!hiccup x f!mute!reader
wc: 1.7k
tw: yandere, implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, mention of blood/violence, mention of death
synopsis: You regretted the day they left him for dead. And you’d regret the day you ever saw him again—he’d make sure of that.
A gleam of orange blazed in the bleakness of night.
You watched from your hilltop window—the thatched roofs off the eastern slopes of Berk twisting and writhing in flames. Even from a distance, you heard the breaking moans of ceilings, the cracks and bends of collapsing wooden structures, and the piercing wails of scales met with sharp edges of iron. Despite The Red Death’s fall, dragon raids still plagued the lands.
Perhaps it was all a sign of retribution.
You were told to stay within the safe confines of your home. Your father hadn’t wanted to risk your life, considering how precious you’d become. The next Seer in line after Gothi, gifted with spiritual wisdom, healing, and authority of officiating the next chief.
But the price to pay had been steep.
The house was dark, not even the smallest candle lit. Nothing that would draw a glimmer of attention to the home. A creak ached the roof above, and you flitted your nose up to the rafters, drawing lines across the ceiling. Nothing but your shallow breaths filled the silent dark.
The hearth then erupted with flame and spark, jolting you from back to neck bone. Had you any voice, a strangled scream would’ve ripped from your throat. Twisting, you had almost forgotten to breathe. A figure shrouded in shadow and leather stood beside the crackling firewood. Light and dark danced in an undulating battle across the strangers’ features–revealing a horrifying familiarity.
“Hope you don’t mind if I warm this place up a bit.” That voice, boy-ish in tone, lacked any hint of innocence or niceties. He stretched a gloved hand towards the licking flames, doing nothing to warm the ice coating his insides. “Couldn’t help but notice you looked a little cold and...alone.”
A snap of wood made you flinch; addressing him with quivering lips and dilated eyes. Your long-lost greeting didn’t forebode well.
Every piece of leather tightened around his body as he shifted. Turning to ensnare you within his talon like stare. When embers casted a sheen across his face, you braced against the sight. Soft features long since abandoned, reforged into a visage of cold iron. Carved and littered with scars and nicks across his furrowed brows, cheeks, and clenched jaw line.
“Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Wait, no. That’s not the word I was looking for. More like—disappointing. That sounds like a better fit. For you and everyone else here.” Hiccup stalked forward, a contraption of metal clanking and scratching against the splintering floors. Each step clanged through you, until he stood one heartbeat away. “After all these years, I’d thought you’d have a bit more to say than a blank stare. Every night, I dreamed about how this conversation would go. Just like how I dreamed things could be better than what they were. Funny how you can plan for things to go a certain way, but then…”
He pressed his hands at each side of your head, the glass window behind begging to crack from the pressure. His scent permeated, forcing you to swallow. Once smelling of spring honey and rolling glades, now sundered to singe your senses like bone ash and lightning storms.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little different.” He placed a calloused finger into the dip of your clavicle. He dug and dug until your pained gasp fell deaf to his ears. Tilting his head, he curled the lip of his mouth. “So, just like Gothi, you gave up your voice. Good—great, actually. This works out better for me.”
The smile that crept over his lips never made it up to his eyes. Not like before. Those vibrant meadows sullied into a sickly, muddled green. Thick and ichorous. And dared you stare long enough, you could never trudge your way out. Although you already felt stuck within them, your hand slipped silently into the pocket of your dress, where your fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger.
You drew it a mere inch before his hand captured yours, twisting until he pried it into his possession.
“Come on. We both know you were never good at fighting.” He chuckled, wagging the sharpest point between your trembling eyes. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t either back then. That’s something we had in common…until I had to be. Guess that didn’t work out in anyone’s favor on this wet piece of rock. Now, did it?”
Your vision blurred. Screams of the village roared in your ears. Screeches of dragons pierced through the air, engulfed in smoke and fire. Having consumed so much in its wake, you felt the heat of chaos leech into the glass. Searing your back pressed against it.
“Woah. Hey, don’t cry. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he swept a rough thumb over a falling tear stain. “Not all of them will die tonight. I mean, just think about it for a second. Can’t be chief and rule over a bunch of burnt corpses. How counterintuitive would that be?”
“As for you though…” he continued, and your heart stalled as he traced the cold metal down your flush cheek and neck, pausing just above your breastbone. “I’m only standing here, watching everything and everyone turn to ash around us, all because of you. And don't tell me you don't remember. When you mended my leg. Somehow kept me from bleeding out. Just before the entire village abandoned me.” His clouded eyes narrowed down. “Including you.”
Releasing you from his pinning weight, your legs wobbled. As if he hadn’t just snatched your foothold underneath. Terror kept your feet webbed in place, watching as he twirled your dagger in his fingers like a child's play thing. Crouching near the fire, he mindlessly poked and prodded at the stoking wood. He picked away a scrap of charred chipping, before plunging the blade into the flank of the burning log. You gazed at him, chest tight, aching. How he hadn’t flinched when the fire slicked around his hand like oil.
He dragged the smoldering stump from the hearth, creating a scorched line. When the licks of fire seeped into the house floors, he rose, one vertebra at a time.
“If I’m being honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He unhooked a masked contraption from his belt buckle and tightened it over his face. The eye sockets were of yellow stained sea glass, and the mouth of it appeared like a muzzle of iron teeth. “Leave something already weak, then crippled to survive on its own. Gambling on the high-stakes of death. So sure of the outcome, no one bothered to turn over a shoulder.” Hellfire rose and swelled in the reflection of his mask. “Maybe they should’ve.”
The rapid hunger of the hearth fire blazed and curled across the floor of the home. Heat lapped towards your skin, drawing out sweat from your pores. Dense smoke began filling the wooden death chamber. You inhaled the black snowflakes, searing your lungs once they melted inside you. You slapped a hard hand over your mouth, coughing and shuddering against it. A pang of panic willed your body to move. You attempted to open the window behind you, but to your horror, it had been welded to the frame.
Your eyes watered, hugging the wall as you traced it to the door. When the handle clattered against your pulls and tugs, a ghostly laugh floated around you. The metal was bolted shut from the outside. A bout of nausea cramped your stomach. Fear darted your eyes toward the stairs, where the flames hadn’t yet reached—but soon. Perhaps the window of your room hadn’t been tampered with.
You darted towards the steps, and before you could place one foot up, a black beast stalked from the darkness of the second floor.
The floating embers danced hauntingly over the onyx scales, and gashes rippled in the firelight. Revealing wounds healed twice, perhaps three times over. That body of night perfectly reflected it's master’s outward appearance.
And as you drowned in those feral slits of pure abandon, it was apparent they also shared the same broken, unmendable soul.
“Oh. You remember Toothless, don’t you?” Your face paled, backing slowly as the Nightfury slithered down the steps like black ink. A predatory growl rumbled above the snapping and collapsing wood around you. Hiccup sauntered to the dragon’s side, patting the thick of his neck, pulsing with power. Another laugh at your expense. “Looks like he remembers you.”
You fought the claw of unconsciousness raking over every part of you. Choking, straining against your hand pathetically covering your mouth.
“Since you did me a favor back then, I’m going to give you one chance to make it up to me.” The mask muffled his voice, but the wickedness screamed, rattling your veins. “You can either choose to stay here and burn with the rest of Berk or…” he lifted a hand, hardly an invitation, but a devilish bargain. “You can choose me.”
In the thick of your pounding head and chest, you considered burning to death was the wiser option of the two. All that he was—what he’d inevitably become—held no promise of a life worth degrading yourself for. Nothing about you would be spared. And it wouldn’t be long till you dropped on hands and knees, begging for him to take your life. To end his drawn out game of torture. One he’d carefully crafted for years and years.
Just for you, only for you.
Still, you clung to life. A measly mortal thread. Your shaking hand lifted, painfully reaching for his fingertips. One step forward, and the world spun in wisps of red and black. Your lungs and heart throbbed, practically seizing. A calculated arm caught you, cradling you wholly, close as any lover would.
“Good choice.”
You heard the waning words of approval, and through the fading light of your vision, something fastened over your face. Your last conscious breath had been clean, airy—a pleasant contrast to the toxic fumes.
Then, nothing.
#hiccup#hiccup x reader#hiccup imagines#hiccup haddock#httyd#httyd fanfiction#httyd x reader#httyd imagines#how to train your dragon#evil!hiccup#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere male#reader insert#x reader#fem reader
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please wake up ; h.h.
𓂃 ⋆ 𓈒 masterlist
summary. instead of stoick dying after toothless is under the bewilderbeasts control, you, hiccup's younger sister, are almost hit, resulting in tears and desperation.
pairing. hiccup haddock x sister!reader
genre. angst, hurt/comfort, platonic.
word count. 2.8k
warnings. for plot reasons, valka was taken by cloudjumper when hiccup was 4 and you were a baby, near death experiences, violence, lots of angst.
✐ i couldn’t find the original post for the gif (i found it on pinterest, reposted), but the username is in the top left corner of the gif ^^
The amount of fear that ran through Hiccup when Drago yelled out his bone chilling scream, waving his staff around in the air… it was immeasurable. The aggression that the throaty sound held in it sent a chill down Hiccup’s spine. He knew at that moment, that he was in serious trouble.
The ground shook with each step that the bewilderbeast took towards them, and rather than the calm awe and serenity that Hiccup felt when he met his mothers bewilderbeast, looking into the eyes of this one made him feel a fear that he couldn’t get rid of.
“No dragon can resist the alpha’s command.” Drago said lowly, his voice scratching its way out of his throat. “So, he who controls the alpha, controls them all.”
A hint of rage settled in Hiccups veins as Drago spoke, pointing his staff towards Toothless.
The rage nearly dissipated, a low sound emitting throughout snow and ice covered land. The sound came from the bewilderbeast, it’s pupils narrowed at Toothless. Toothless began shaking his head, making a noise of discomfort. “Toothless?” Hiccup said worriedly.
Toothless continued to whimper, shaking his head around. “T-toothless, you okay, bud? What’s going on?” But all of the words leaving Hiccups mouth did nothing.
Drago’s voice sounded again. “Witness true strength. The strength of will over others.” Drago was holding up his staff again, the pointed end pointing to Toothless, who suddenly rose, ever so still. “In the face of it… you are nothing.”
When Hiccup realized he was now looking at the end of the staff, it being pointed directly at his chest, he knew that trouble was arising. Toothless slowly turned towards him, pupils as narrow as the bewilderbeast’s were. “Uh,” Hiccup slowly backed away from his dragon, “What did he just tell you?”
Toothless got low to the ground, snarling as he slowly crept over towards his rider, who kept backing away. “Toothless, come on. What’s the matter with you?” He felt the desperation begin to tear at his heart, knowing that there was almost nothing he could do. And sudden moves or sounds could result in the controlled Toothless to pounce on him, resulting in his demise. Even if Hiccup could get a hit in, how much would that break his heart? Would he be able to hurt his best friend?
“No, no, no, no. Come on. What are you doing? Knock it off.” Hiccup knew he was being backed up into ice, and soon he would have no where to go. “Stop!” He yelled out, “snap out of it!” But the attempt was useless, as Toothless kept his slow, creeping pace.
The world around his became almost meaningless. It was just him, Toothless, and mountains of ice trapping him in. “Toothless, no! Toothless.”
Toothless hissed, preparing to launch a heated breath of fire at him, and he felt his heart drop. “Don’t!”
He almost didn’t hear the broken cry of his name being shouted, his eyes remaining on Toothless’ sharp ones. “Stop!”
“Hiccup!” The voice shouted again, and with wide eyes, he looked, and his heart sunk further. You were running right towards him, determination and fear in your eyes. The painful realization of what you were doing came all too quick, and his fear that was once reserved for himself was now almost entirely for you. “Y/n! No!”
But it was too late, you were right next to him, and then crashing into him. Hiccup slid across the snow covered ground, gasping in fear of what he’d see when he looked at you.
He looked just in time to see the blast of fire miss you—just in time to see it hit the ice behind you, breaking a peace of it off as it came crashing down onto you.
“No!”
He startled himself with the cry that left his lips. The world around him faded out again. It was only you, him, and his shallow breaths. “No…” He said again, the disbelief strong in his tone. This couldn’t be happening.
He ran over to you, feeling like he was going to collapse. He was by your side in seconds—he was by your side and there you were, covered in shards of teal-blue ice. Your eyes were shut; your breathing was barely there. He feared every one of your breaths would be your last.
He groaned as he pushed the ice off of you, piece by piece. As each shard slid off, an already growing bruise was left in its wake wherever your skin was visible.
The despair was crushing him; engulfing him; making a home into his heart that was sinking even further as it buried itself into the ever so cold snow beneath him. He grabbed and pulled at your left arm, pulling you off of your side and onto your back. “Y/n!”
Hiccup hardly paid attention to his mother dropping by his side, and his father close behind her. Your breaths were still so shallow.
“Y/n… Oh, my Gods.” His breath caught in his throat, and he faintly felt his mothers hand rest on his shoulder. For the better of his own sanity, he pressed to fingers to your neck, sighing in relief at the slow and weak feeling of your heartbeat beneath his fingers. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Wake up… please wake up.” He ignored every sound around him, including the sound of his friends arriving to the scene. He couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around you, being ever so careful and gentle with your injured form. He felt like he had already lost you, the thought making tears roll down his face. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt instead of him: the target.
You—the younger sister who came into his life when he was just 4 years old. The sister who listened to him when everyone turned a blind eye and pretended like he didn’t exist. You were always there, and as he held you close, he couldn’t get rid of the fear that soon you would be here no longer.
All of his attention was on you, until he heard a low coo from his very own dragon: the dragon who did this.
As Toothless’ snout brushed up against your hand, he couldn’t help the anger that enveloped him. Deep down he knew it wasn’t Toothless’ fault, but something else told him he needed something to be angry at. After seeing the way Toothless’ had unknowingly injured you, his emotions got the best of him. “No! Get away from her!” Hiccup harshly shoved Toothless away, feeling guilt at the way his dragon whined in response, but Hiccup was spiralling.
He stood to his feet, looking down at Toothless. “Go on! Get out of here!”
Toothless took a small step forward, his eyes holding sadness at being shouted at, but Hiccup shouted again. “Get away!”
Hiccup was a mix of emotions as Toothless coward away and ran off.
“It’s not his fault.” Valka said softly, her sadness making her voice wobble only slightly. “You know that.”
And Hiccup did know that. He fell to his knees again, fresh tears rolling down his face as he looked at you. Your eyes were still closed.
The bewilderbeast roared out, but Hiccup almost didn’t hear it as his mother spoke. “Good dragons under the control of bad people… do bad things.”
“Come on!” Hiccup heard someone shout, along with the sound of Toothless whimpering. He looked up, and Drago was riding a once again controlled Toothless, leading him away. “Gather the men and meet me at Berk!”
Hiccup felt an urgency rush through him, and he jumped up onto his feet. “Toothless!” He cried out to him, but Valka held him back. He felt useless as the alpha roared out, and Drago’s men prepared to leave the island.
He couldn’t help but to continue to cry. He just lost his best friend, and he looked down at you, worried that he would lose another. He dropped down beside you again, feeling like the entire world was against him. He felt lost and scared. He couldn’t lose you. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you.
“Hiccup…” Stoick said from behind him. Hiccup could already picture the look on his face based of the sadness in his voice.
“No, Dad.” Why were they acting like you were already dead? You just had to wake up.
As the tears kept falling down his cheeks, his friends backed away and watched from a good distance, as he needed his space. His parents stayed close behind him.
“We have to— we have to do something. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? My sister is dying and you’re all just standing around waiting for—“ Waiting for her to die.
“Hiccup,” Gobber said softly, a pained sigh leaving the man’s lips, “there’s not much we can do, right now. Not here. Back home, maybe things would be better. But we don’t have our dragons to get there, Hiccup.”
Hiccup remained looking at you, still. “So, why are you all acting like you don’t care?” Maybe that was harsh, but he was still spiralling.
“Hiccup, of course we care.” When Astrid spoke, Hiccup looked at her and found a world of sadness in her eyes. Maybe she was worried for you; maybe she felt guilt and pity for him; maybe it was both. The the look in her eyes made him feel less alone.
Hiccup was silent for a few moments, and then, “There’s nothing we can do?” He chose to ignore the way his voice cracked with emotion.
His father sighed, and removed his helmet, holding it to his chest. “Nothing we can do but pray that she wakes up.”
Hiccup inhaled deeply. “I need a second alone with her.”
He didn’t receive a response, he only heard the sound of footsteps slowly backing away.
With a shaking hand, he took your hand into his, watching a teardrop fall down and land on your fingertip. The desperation in him had been making a slow incline, and he wasn’t sure how much of this he could take.
“You have to wake up.” He whispered, falling back down to wrap an arm around you. “Come on. Wake up.”
But as your breathing remained slow, he felt the tears roll down a little faster, and he couldn’t help the sob that slipped past his lips. “Wake up. Come on, what are you doing? Get up…”
A hitch in your breath.
As the sound reaches his ears, and he feels the pattern of your breath change for only a moment, his head snaps up. Your face is neutral, a scrape and bruise on your right cheekbone.
“Y/n?…”
He’s filled with a sense of hope, and just as it feels like it was a trick of his mind, your breath catches again, and your brows move the smallest amount.
“Oh, my Gods.” Hiccup breathes out. “Y/n? Hey… wake up, come on.”
Your eyes began to flutter open and it’s like Hiccup and finally breathe again. He leans forward so that you see him, and your eyes meet his. “Hiccup?”
Hiccup laughs, light and airy, and nods. “Yeah, I’m here. You’re okay.
Your face scrunches up a little as you become aware of the pain running across your skin. Hiccup notices and a slight frown lands on his face.
Your hand squeezes his, “I’m glad you’re okay, Hiccup.”
Hiccup can’t help the shock that runs through him. “You’re glad I’m okay? I’m glad you’re okay…” he then sighs, thinking about how he nearly lost you. The ache in his heart was still there, like a poison latching onto him, killing him slowly. He couldn’t believe how close to death you had gotten. “I thought I was gonna lose you.”
And then he was hugging you again, being as gentle as possible. He felt you wrap an arm around his back, but he could tell that by the way your arm was shaking, it was taking more of a toll on you than you’d like to admit. Hiccup pulled back. “Don’t strain yourself.”
Your eyes were still only about half open and he wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out soon. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.”
But his words could only be heard so clearly as the world began to fade once again. It had taken so much of your energy to stay conscious as long as you did.
“No, no, no. Keep your eyes open, okay? Stay awake, stay awake— Dad!”
The last thing you saw was your brother and parents hovering over you, and then you were welcomed into a deep sleep once again.
⿻
The rest of the day went by so fast, yet so slow. Hiccup felt pride for him and Toothless—who he had since forgiven and apologized to—for being able to fight against Drago and the alpha. After this, it was clear that Toothless had earned his place as the alpha. However, as all of this had been happening, you were the only thing on Hiccup’s mind. He was fighting for everyone, and most importantly to avenge you. This was Drago’s fault—all of this. Hiccup had to do something about it, and he did.
It was likely clear how much he was worrying for you, because not long after the bewilderbeast had dove into the water, taking Drago with him, his mother was at his side. He knew from the look on her face alone that she was saying he should go to you. He didn’t waste a second.
He ran up to his house, passing by people cheering and shouting out of glee, and he pushed open his front door and ran straight to your room. There you were, under the care of Gothi, tucked into your bed and bandaged wherever needed. It was honestly a wonder that they were even able to get you to Berk while you were unconscious, but they managed. Hiccup was just glad to see you now, alive and breathing.
Gothi nodded at him, making her way out of the room. Hiccup remained still for a moment, looking down at you. It pained him to see you like this.
Eventually he sat on the edge of the bed, and looked down at his hands. He felt so guilty about you getting hurt. It felt like it was his fault, somehow. You had jumped to save him, and this is where it brought the both of you. Surely, he was partially at fault for this outcome.
“You’re not blamin’ yourself, are you?”
At the sound of your voice, Hiccup whipped his head around, eyes wide and burning with tears that haven’t even quite built up yet. “You’re awake.”
You nodded lightly, looking down at your bandaged and bruised body. You didn’t regret a thing you did.
“Why… did you do that?” Hiccup started slowly. He didn’t expect this to be what he decided to talk about, but he got to thinking and his mouth was moving before he even realized it. “I mean… save me—“ He took a deep breath, brows furrowing at the topic at hand.
“What else did you want me to do?” You said. You sounded determined, strangely enough.
“I—“
“I couldn’t just… stand there.”
“I wanted you to.”
You sighed this time. “And what? Watch you die? You could’ve.”
Hiccup saw tears begin to form in your own eyes, and he somewhat felt bad for bringing this up right now. “You could’ve, too.”
“I know.” You stated. There was a brief pause as you both collected your thoughts. You didn’t want to argue about this. Neither of you wanted to make anger out of grieving for someone who hadn’t even died. “I care about you, Hiccup. You looked just as scared as I felt. Even if you don’t want to admit it. I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if you got hurt, or worse. I love you, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I’d rather be hurt than you be hurt instead.”
Hiccup gazed down at you and realized in that moment that you were just like any other Haddock—stubborn as hell. Hiccup and his father were some of the most stubborn people on Berk, if not the most stubborn, and he wouldn’t be surprised that if he got to know his mother a little more, she would turn out to be the same.
Having such a quality can be unbearable at times, but it made for some pretty promising trust with the people you love.
“Well,” Hiccup broke into a smile, chuckling lightly. “I would do the same for you.”
You laughed softly. “I’d hope so.”
Hiccup was shocked when you started pushing yourself up on the bed all of a sudden. “Hey, woah, woah, woah. What are you doing?”
“Relax. I know my limits.” You snickered, and then winced. All of a sudden your arms were around Hiccup and Hiccup wasn’t sure if it was the stupidest or sweetest thing you’ve ever done. Probably both.
Hiccup hugged you back, his eyes closing as it felt like the day was finally calming down. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”
An amused scoff, and then, “no promises.”
Definitely a Haddock.
@ sakufilms
#♡.httyd#hiccup haddock#how to train your dragon#httyd#hiccup#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup x reader#httyd x reader#hiccup haddock x sister reader#hiccup haddock x sister!reader#hiccup haddock x fem!reader#httyd x sister reader#httyd x sister!reader#teen reader#teen!reader#sister reader#sister!reader#x fem!reader#how to train your dragon 2#httyd 2#httyd hiccup#angst#hurt comfort#platonic#no romance#no romantic relationships#all my works
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bad blood - [h.haddock]
8.2K wordcount
warnings: death mention, panic attack mentions
requested: no
a/n: i usually don’t do author’s notes on my fics bc i don’t think i have really anything to say lmao. however. i wanted to say a quick word about this one, as it’s a kind of old piece but one i was extremely proud of and worked really hard to complete. i loved the humorous parts i wrote, loved the character arc i gave y/n, and just in general really liked how my writing turned out. also, it’s the second longest one-shot (currently) i’ve ever written! anyways, enjoy my lovelies <3
I disliked Hiccup Haddock more than anything else in the entire world. I didn’t like him at all for a very long time, but… well, here is our story.
“Hey love.” A voice appeared next to my shoulder, and I rolled my eyes.
“Go away, Hiccup,” I demanded, refusing to look at him. I was carving a spear out of a wooden stick, so I kept my focus on my knife running back and forth along the wood.
Even without looking at him, I could tell he had a smirk on his face. “Oh love,” he whined. “I want to talk to you.”
He tugged on one of my small braids that ran down the sides of my hair. I whacked his hand away, still not looking at him. “I said go away,” I said again.
He laughed. “I know.”
“So leave me alone.”
A moment’s pause. “But why?”
“Because I hate you and don’t want you around, annoying me to death. I’m busy.”
“But you’re fun to annoy.”
I turned on him, fiercely glaring up at him. The worst thing about Hiccup was how tall he was compared to me. He wasn’t even that tall, I was just super short. Hiccup was a full head higher than me.
Hiccup had a smirk playing around his mouth. “Hey shortcake.”
I hit him. “Shut up, Hiccup.”
“Aww, c’mon sweetheart. I’m bored.”
“That’s nice.” I crossed my arms protectively. Not that Hiccup would ever actually hurt me. Honestly, if it came down to me being in danger, I was pretty sure he’d defend me. I’d known him longer than anybody else I knew.
I might hate him, but it was the truth. Hiccup was an asshole, but I knew deep down he didn’t absolutely hate me. I guess I didn’t hate him, either. He was just a total pain.
“Go ride Toothless or make a friend or do something. Just leave me alone. I don’t care to see you.”
Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his ruffled brown hair. His green eyes flickered with amusement. “Okay, love. I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He winked. “Sorry love.”
I resisted the childish urge to stamp my foot. “Hiccup!”
He held up his hands. “Okay… okay.” I almost thought he might actually be genuine, until he smirked. “I’ll stop calling you love… darling.”
I knew there was no shutting him up. I turned on my heel without a word, and stamped angrily into my cabin, slamming the door behind me.
Three seconds passed, then there was a knock on the door. I opened it. “Hiccup, go away!”
Hiccup stood there, grinning mischievously. “Fine, fine. Bye, you.”
I rolled my eyes and shut the door. I’d only just turned around when another knock sounded. I gritted my teeth. “Stupid little —“
I opened the door again and stopped short. “Oh! Stoick. Um, hi.” I swallowed. “Sorry, I, uh, I thought you were Hiccup.”
Stoick looked amused. “That’s alright, y/n.”
“Um, would you like to come in?” I offered.
Stoick nodded, and stepped inside. I suddenly felt very conscious of how messy the place was. I didn’t spend much time here, preferring to roam outside or stay at Astrid, my best friend’s house.
“How are you faring up?” Stoick asked.
I shrugged. “I’m okay. Still getting used to the fact that they’re gone, but, you know. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
Stoick nodded. “If you ever need anything, feel free to let me or Hiccup know.”
I groaned internally. “Yeah, like I’d ever ask him for help,” I muttered.
I hadn’t intended for him to hear, but Stoick chuckled softly. “He doesn’t hate you, you know.”
“Sure,” I said. “Because he thinks I’m fun to annoy.”
“That’s not it.”
I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “O…kay…” I said slowly. “Um. Great. Well, it’s getting late, so if you don’t mind, uh…”
“Oh! Sure, sure,” Stoick said. “Have a good night, y/n.”
A long time after he left, I stood in my empty, cold house, staring at the door, wishing for something to come and fill the hole that was forming inside of me.
“Y/n, did you hear?”
I turned to my best friend. “Um. No. What happened?”
Astrid brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Stoick just told Hiccup he’s going to become chief soon.”
“Cool.” I returned to making the leather straps I’d been softening for my future dragon’s saddle.
See, the thing is, I don’t have a dragon. I know, that’s so weird, everyone in Berk has one, but I’m, well… a dragon killed my parents a few years ago. I’ve never liked them anyways, but after that, I’ve struggled a lot with my feelings about dragons. I’m sure one day I will overcome this fear inside me and own a dragon, but right now? No way.
“That’s all?” Astrid looked offended. “Y/n, that’s so much cooler than cool.” She suddenly laughed. “You know what this means?”
I frowned a little. “No..?”
“Hiccup has to choose a bride.”
I blinked. “Really? Um, so?”
Astrid rolled her eyes, elbowing me as she sat beside me on the ground. “You know you’re in love with him, y/n/n.”
I pretended to gag. “Ugh, as if! Astrid, you know I hate him. I don’t care at all about him in any way, especially not in a romantic way. I don’t care a single little bit if he has to choose a bride.”
“Sure.” Astrid smirked. “You’re secretly hoping he’ll choose you, aren’t you?”
I shot her a glare that warned her to shut up. “He’ll choose you and you know it,” I said.
Astrid wrinkled her nose. “I doubt it,” she said. “Hiccup and I literally never talk. Besides, everybody knows that me and Stormfly are a forever couple.”
I shook my head at her, but I had to smile. “Well, he won’t choose me, and I don’t care about it anyway.”
Astrid looked like she wanted to argue, but she shut her mouth when she noticed someone walking over to us. When I saw who it was, I sighed.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“Gee, you’re lovely today, darling,” Hiccup teased, plopping himself down next to us.
“Excuse me,” I pointed out. “We didn’t invite you to sit with us.”
Astrid glanced at me, a smirk playing around her mouth. Her eyes were twinkling. I glared at her. I hate you, I mouthed.
I swung one leg over the log so my back was to Hiccup. “So, Astrid,” I said, a little too loudly. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”
“I’m taking Stormfly out for a ride,” Astrid replied. “You’re welcome to join —“
“No,” I said instantly. “Uh, I mean. No thank you. I’m good.” My hands trembled ever so slightly. I coughed, swallowed, and picked up my leather strap, gripping it tightly to stop the shaking.
Hiccup poked his head over my shoulder. “You know—“
I elbowed him in the ribs so hard he tumbled off the log. “Whoa!” he yelped. “Jeez, y/n!”
“Sorry,” I apologised. “I- you startled me.”
Hiccup rolled his eyes. “No I didn’t. You just like hitting people.”
My mouth tightened. “No I don’t. And stop calling me a liar!”
“When did I call you a liar?” He got to his feet, one arm cradling his ribcage. “You’re violent for literally no reason.”
I glared at him. “You just said I was lying. And I didn’t even hit you that hard.”
Hiccup winced. “Uh- yeah you actually did. I think you broke a rib or something.”
I slammed my work to the ground, getting to my feet and facing the boy. “Stop avoiding the fact that you called me a liar! I never ever ever make up anything.”
My eyes glittered with unwanted tears. Involuntary memories sprang into my mind. My parents hugging me. My father’s voice in my hair, my younger voice begging them to promise to return soon. “Of course we will return, darling,” my father said. “We’ve never lied to you, have we now?”
I blinked, forcing the tears away. I hated crying in any situation, but I wouldn’t be able to stand crying in front of Hiccup. I’d never live it down.
“Whatever.” Hiccup glanced at me. His voice suddenly changed. “Want to see something amazing?”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “The retreating back of your head would be great, thanks.”
Hiccup rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”
“So am I!” I turned away from him, and only then did I realise Astrid was nowhere to be seen. She must’ve snuck away while Hiccup and I were arguing.
Hiccup’s hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. “C’mon,” he pleaded, and his voice sounded genuinely kind. “It’ll be fun.”
I rolled my eyes. “If I come with you, do you promise to leave me alone after?”
Hiccup nodded.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Where are we going?”
He grinned mischievously. “You’ll see.”
Hiccup turned, and I had no choice but to follow; partly because I was curious, and partly because I wanted him to leave me alone, and this was the only way to guarantee that.
We entered the woods that surrounded the village, and I began to get suspicious. “Hiccup?” I asked. “Where exactly are we going?”
He didn’t answer for almost a minute. “You’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes. “First, that’s not a proper answer. Two, don’t you think that you should tell me before you drag me off somewhere?”
He laughed. “C’mon. Don’t you ever do anything adventurous or risky?”
“Yes,” I answered. “I talk to you.”
“Hey!” He shot me a playful glare.
I managed a smirk. “No, but seriously. Where are you taking me?”
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Okay. Just stay here a moment. I’ll be right back.”
I frowned, and opened my mouth to complain, but before I could say anything, Hiccup had disappeared into the trees. I had no choice but to wait where I was.
Only a few minutes later, I heard a rush of wind, and a midnight-black dragon landed in front of me. Hiccup sat astride Toothless, one hand in the air.
I yelped, taking a few quick steps backward. “I- shoot, Hiccup. Why are you…” My voice died as Toothless stared at me. A shiver ran down my spine, making me feel sick to my stomach.
“Y/n, it’s fine,” Hiccup assured. “He won’t hurt you. Will ya, bud?”
I shook my head, my throat tightening. “I- no. I can’t do this, Hiccup.” I took another step back, my entire body beginning to shake. This. This what had killed my parents. Dragons couldn’t be trusted. No matter how much Hiccup had tried to convince the village, I would never trust anyone, or anything, ever again.
Hiccup frowned. “Fine.” He leaned down and patted Toothless on the neck. “C’mon, bud. Let’s go.”
Without another word, Toothless spread his wings and they soared into the air.
I stood stock still for a whole minute before I realised I was holding my breath. I let it out all in a rush, and staggered a little. I reached out to hold onto a tree truck for support. My legs felt wobbly and unstable.
I decided it was best if I headed back for the village. I didn’t want to hang around in the woods today anymore. I had a sour taste in my mouth, and I needed some water.
I was twenty meters away from my cabin door when suddenly the ground beneath me was swept away. The village got smaller and smaller, and then I realised what was happening.
“Hiccup Haddock!” I shrieked. Toothless was holding onto my forearms, and I was suspended in the air.
“Yes, m’lady?”
“I am going to kill you!” I yelled up at him, panic temporarily pushing aside my utter agony at being defenceless against a dragon.
“Toothless, put her down,” Hiccup commanded.
Toothless flew around a huge pine tree that was significantly taller than most of the forest, and promptly dropped me onto its highest branches.
I clung to the tree truck, shaking. Tears clogged up my throat, and my legs were so trembly I thought I was going to fall and die.
“Y/n.”
At the sound of Hiccup’s voice, I slowly turned to face him. He looked almost sorry, but I knew that was impossible. The little wretch was trying to make me terrified, for what reason I could only guess. This was his biggest prank yet.
“Hiccup,” I said, trying to keep my voice level (and failing), “you will get me down from here, now.” I gripped the tree tighter. “You will take me home this instant, and you will never ever talk to me again. Do you understand?”
He blinked. “But—“
“Do you understand?!” I yelled.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Here.” He held out his hand.
I stared at it for a second, then gingerly reached out and rested my fingertips on his palm. A tingle ran up the length of my arm. He gripped my wrist, and pulled me up onto the dragon behind him.
Every part of my body that was in contact with the dragon’s felt heated up, like I could burst into flames at any moment. My head pounded in sync with my heartbeat, and my palms were getting sweaty. I was, in short, absolutely terrified.
“… let her down slowly.”
I realised Hiccup was talking. “You got that, bud?”
Toothless made an exasperated grunt, sounding more like a sarcastic teenager than a dragon. That didn’t make me feel any better.
Toothless slowly spread his wings, and for a second, I almost relaxed. Maybe he would fly down gently like Hiccup had asked.
The next second, my illusion shattered. Toothless took off so fast I almost toppled off. I was forced to grab onto the nearest thing to stay onboard (on-dragon?). Unfortunately, that thing happened to be Hiccup.
Whatever. I’d rather not die today. I gripped his shoulders so tightly my knuckles turned white. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, as if not seeing would make it better for me.
The wind whipped in my ears, blowing my dark hair all around my face. I was so scared, so worried, so distraught I felt like crying. I couldn’t, though. I wasn’t dumb enough to cry in front of Hiccup. He would never let me hear the end of it.
Suddenly, I felt the dragon beneath me twisting sideways. We started spinning, twirling in tight circles. My grip tightened on Hiccup’s shoulders.
Someone was screaming, and I was like eighty-five percent sure it was me.
“Toothless!” Hiccup yelled. “Stop this right now! You’re scaring her!”
Toothless took that as a challenge, and dove toward the ocean a hundred feet below. He showed absolutely no signs of slowing or stopping in any way. I opened my eyes, wanting to at least be able to see something in case I died because of this.
“Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile,” Hiccup muttered. I slowly began to realise that maybe Hiccup wasn’t the one at fault here. Of course. It was the dragon’s fault. Dragons weren’t to be trusted, which was exactly what I’d been thinking this whole time.
Just as we were about to hit the water, Toothless opened up his wings. We shot upward, soaring towards the sugar-spun clouds above us.
We levelled out, and my muscles lost some of their tension. Toothless floated in the air, almost flying gently now. I remembered how to breathe, and let out a long, breathless sigh.
“Hiccup,” I managed, my voice hoarse. “I am going to murder you.”
I melted into him, partly in relief that I wasn’t dead, partly in exhausted terror. My arms went around his waist, my forehead falling to rest on his back. My eyes fluttered shut, and a lone tear streaked down my cheek.
Hiccup didn’t say anything for a long while, and so neither did I. Toothless flew long and slow and level, giving me the slightest chance of not murdering him, too.
I’m not sure how long we stayed like that. All I remember is Hiccup’s voice saying softly, “Sweet dreams, love,” before I fell into the welcome arms of sleep.
I woke slowly, curled in a ball inside a warm, soft bed that didn’t feel like mine. When I finally opened my eyes, I realised why it didn’t feel familiar. I wasn’t even in my house.
I sat up, looking around, trying to work out where I was. With a start, I couldn’t even think of a time I’d been inside any other houses in the village except for Astrid’s. I had no idea whose house this was.
“Morning, m’lady,” said a deep voice from the top of the stairs.
I groaned internally. “Oh, gosh, of course it’s you.” I found myself pulling my fingers through my hair, brushing it as nearly as I could, straightening my shirt, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
I dragged myself out of the bed. I was still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, my usual top and skirt combo, with leggings underneath for warmth. My boots were lying on the floor, so I yanked them on.
I glanced up at Hiccup, who was hanging over the banisters, watching me. With a jolt, all the memories of yesterday flooded in.
Red-hot anger filled me. I clenched my fists. “Are you gonna come down here, or should I just murder you up there?”
Hiccup’s eyes widened. “I- what?”
“You heard me,” I muttered. My knife was missing from my belt, which was just great. I’d probably lost in on that horrific flight yesterday.
I stomped up the stairs, stopping on the one below the one Hiccup was standing on. He leaned against the banister, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Hey shortcake,” he whispered teasingly. “Sleep well?”
I gritted my teeth. “You are so beyond dead right now, Hiccup.”
He chuckled. “Hey. Blame Toothless, alright? There was nothing I could do!”
I wanted to roll my eyes. “Um, okay. And he’s your dragon.”
“That doesn’t mean I can control him!”
I didn’t answer, my gaze sliding away from Hiccup. I sighed, laid my palm on the cold wood banister. “I don’t ever want you to talk to me again, okay? I don’t want to see you; I don’t want to hear you. I don’t even want to know you exist.”
I felt a glistening tear streak its way down my cheek, dripping off the bottom of my chin. “Just—“ My voice broke. “Just leave me alone.”
I turned, and ran out of the house, leaving his door wide open. I headed for the only place I could think of; the woods.
I didn’t stop running until I was deep in the forest, surrounded by unfamiliar trees. I dropped to my knees in the dirt, buried my face in my hands and cried.
Hours later, I slowly rose to my feet. It was growing steadily dark, and the cold was seeping into my bone. I shivered, and wrapped my arms around myself as I walked around in a small circle.
I realised, horrified, that I was completely lost. I had no idea whatsoever where I was, which direction the village was, or what time of day it even was right now.
I eventually sat down on a rock, pulling my knees up to my chest. The darkness was growing. Soon, I didn’t think I would be able to see a thing. I began to get worried.
Who knew what things might be hiding in the shadows? My hand instinctively went to my belt, my my knife was gone. I cursed under my breath, and stood, pressing my back against a tree. I figured it would be safer than sitting on an exposed rock.
I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, my eyes turning towards the sky, hoping, for some insane reason, that someone might be out there looking for me.
Who was I kidding? Who was there that even cared about me that much? I didn’t have parents who were waiting back at home, wondering how late I was going to stay out. I didn’t have siblings who would notice my absence.
Astrid wouldn’t notice this late at night. I tended to wander during the day; she was used to that, but at night it wouldn’t even occur to her that I was anywhere but home.
Hiccup briefly crossed my mind, but I truly did not think he cared about me that much. I didn’t even want him to. I was still so mad at Hiccup, thinking about him made it hard to breathe. I hated him.
“I hate Hiccup Haddock,” I whispered under my breath, trying to make myself feel better. My breath made a wisp of steam in the cold air. I watched it as it floated into nothingness.
My vision suddenly blurred, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of exhaustion or tears. I slumped down to the ground, my legs giving way. I drew my knees close to my chest, hugging them to me. My chin rested on my knees, gazing out at the woods, though I could barely make out anything anymore. I couldn’t even see my own hand clearly, let alone anything else.
I’m not sure how long I sat there, but eventually, I slipped into a deep sleep, half-frozen, chilled to the bone, alone and crying in the darkness.
“Y/n! Y/n? Y/n/n?!”
My eyes fluttered open. I groaned in pain. I felt someone’s arms encircling me, carrying me, but I couldn’t make out anything. Everything was blurred, hazy. The person carrying me was talking, but it sounded far away and watery.
I slumped against the person’s shoulder, closing my eyes. I was tired: so, so tired. Everything ached; my head pounded and throbbed.
I don’t think I feel back asleep, but I wasn’t really aware of anything for a long while. Finally, the person slowed to a walk, and laid me down on a couch or a bed or something. A cup was held to my lips, and I gratefully accepted the water.
I blinked several times, and my eyes focused on a very familiar looking boy, who’s green eyes were staring down at me, full of concern.
“Hiccup?” I asked weakly. “What are you…?”
“I found you in the middle of the woods,” Hiccup replied, his eyes darkening slightly. “Are you okay? Do you need anything else? More water? Are-are you warm enough?”
I laid my head back, rubbing my thumb against my throbbing temple. I let out a long sigh, whether it was of annoyance or exhaustion or pain, I wasn’t sure.
“I hate you so much,” I muttered.
“Gee, thanks,” Hiccup answered. He held the back of his hand against my forehead, testing my temperature. “You don’t seem to be too sick. I think you’re going to be okay,” he said, almost to himself.
“I’m not sick at all,” I said firmly. “I don’t even know why you’re taking care of me. I don’t need you. You—“ My voice suddenly broke with emotion. “You did this to me.”
Hiccup’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Look, Y/n/n—“
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.
He blinked. “Y/n. I-I am so sorry for what happened yesterday. I, well, I thought it might make it better if you saw that dragons aren’t always vicious. Um…” He glanced down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Toothless didn’t really get the memo.”
He looked at me. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. And I hope that maybe someday you can find it in you to forgive me.” He stood, brushed off his pants, and left, closing the door gently behind him.
I lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but Hiccup had brought me home. I was in my bed, in my house. I could hear small noises from downstairs, which meant that Hiccup was still here. I wasn’t sure what he was doing down there, but I didn’t really care.
What I cared about right now was what he’d said. And what it had made happen inside of me. Was I really as mad at him as I thought I was? After all, he’d gone out and found me, brought me home, taken care of me. Maybe he’d been trying to be nice, and it really was Toothless who had been doing all those things to me. (Which just proved all my theories that dragons weren’t to be trusted).
I thought again of Hiccup’s eyes staring down at me, his sad voice asking me for forgiveness. The worry in his expression when he asked if I was okay. I hated how much I’d liked that. I hadn’t ever been in love, or even had a crush on anyone. I wasn’t sure if this even was a crush, but if it was, I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like the swirling in my stomach when I heard Hiccup’s voice. I hated how much I suddenly wanted him near me. I disliked how I kind of trusted him. I didn’t want to be in love. I didn’t want to have somebody I believed in again.
Last time I’d loved someone, trusted someone, all they’d done was break my heart and leave me forever. My parents. I wondered if part of my hatred inside was because I’d never truly forgiven them for leaving. For dying and not coming back for me like they’d sworn they would. I blinked back tears, brushing my cheeks with the back of my hand.
I swung my legs out of the bed, standing. I swayed a bit at first, but I forced myself to be steady. I yanked on my boots and slowly pushed open my bedroom door. I stepped out onto the landing, peeping over the edge of the banisters.
Hiccup was down in the kitchen. I was shocked at how much cleaner everything looked. I barely ever tidied up. Not that things got particularly dirty, as I spent little time here, but dust had certainly stocked up over the years. Hiccup had scrubbed away the five years of dirt from my home, and it was sparkling.
Something smelled good, too. It hit me like a brick wall that the fire was going, and Hiccup was cooking something over it. It looked like soup or something similar. I hadn’t had a home cooked meal for ages. I hated cooking, so I just lived on things I grew in the garden, or tidbits from friends.
I shifted slightly, and a floorboard underneath me creaked. Hiccup glanced up, and when he saw me, a slight smile flickered across his face. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I said back, not sure what else to say. I mean, I’d just yelled at him, and made it pretty clear I didn’t ever want to talk to him again. What do you say to someone who’s just cleaned your entire house and taken care of you after you told them that? “What are you making?”
Hiccup glanced down at the pot he was stirring, then back up at me. “Chicken and potato soup. Want some?”
I hesitated, but nodded, with a small shrug. “Why not.” I slowly walked down the stairs, my eyes on Hiccup the whole time. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from him.
He noticed me staring and smiled nervously. “What? Am I in trouble?”
I found myself slowly shaking my head. “No, I don’t think so.” I allowed myself a small, watery smile. “At least not yet.”
Hiccup grinned. “Good. Now sit down and eat.”
I obeyed, setting myself down at the old dining table. I wiped my palm on the wood, expecting it to be coated it dirt, but it shone with new cleanliness. My eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“Hiccup…” was all I could manage.
Immediately, Hiccup knelt in front of me. “What’s wrong?” he asked, almost urgently, staring up into my eyes. “Are you alright?”
I swallowed. “You-you cleaned the house… you’re cooking… I- you…” I let out a broken sob.
For so long, so one had cared. Astrid cared the most, but she was busy with Stormfly and her new baby brother and life in general. She’d offered a few times to have me stay with her and her family, but I’d known that would be far too hard for them. I’d always politely told her I was just fine on my own, thank you. But I wasn’t. I knew that. I needed someone to care so badly that now that someone did, someone cared, it almost hurt.
“Hey, hey,” Hiccup said softly, grabbing me by the shoulders. I realised I was shaking.
“It’s alright,” he assured me. “Come here.” He brought me into a hug, which at first both startled and scared me, but then I melted into it. The hug felt unfamiliar, different, awkward. But nice, somehow.
But this was Hiccup. I untangled myself from him. “Uh,” I stammered, tucking my hair behind my ear, eyes flitting away. “Thanks.”
Hiccup shrugged. “It’s fine.” He stood slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “Yes. I mean, no. I-I guess? I’m not sure…” I stared up at him. “Hiccup, why are you doing this?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean?” He gestured around. “You needed help. You need help. I am the son of the chief; soon to be the chief myself. It’s my job to help the village.”
Something inside me wilted a little. So this was just part of the job to him? The rest of me internally yelled at that bit to shut up, and that we hated Hiccup, so it doesn’t matter what he does. But why did I hate Hiccup?
Thinking back on it now, I really didn’t think he had ever done anything truly bad towards me. Yeah, sure, he’d been a total tease, but I was a rude, bitter, secluded brat to be honest. I didn’t deserve any help from him.
I blinked back unwanted tears. “Um, well, I really appreciate it,” I said. “It was really nice of you to come looking for me.”
Hiccup studied my face for a moment, then pursed his lips and nodded once. “It’s okay, Y/n/n.”
Something inside me jolted. No one had called me that in years before today, when Hiccup had started to. It was the nickname my father had given me. Hearing Hiccup use it had just opened up a deep wound inside me I hadn’t even remembered.
“Please don’t call me that,” I whispered, staring at the floorboards. My feet hung limply in the air just above the floor.
Hiccup glanced over at me from where he was standing, stirring the soup. “Um, okay. Sorry, Y/n.” He stressed my name, saying it slightly slower than the rest of his words.
There was so much tension in the air, and I realised it was all my fault. I made the room awkward and made Hiccup have to watch everything he said. I was a terrible person.
I’d even told Hiccup never to talk to me again, right after I’d woken up in his house. It hit me that he must’ve taken me there after the awful flight on Toothless. Then, I’d screamed in his face that I hated him, and gotten myself lost in the woods because I was selfish and prideful and full of hate.
Even then, Hiccup had gone out and found me. Who knew how long that had taken him? He’d brought me back here, cleaned my house, made me food, and for what? For me to be snappy, harsh, and rude.
I ran my tongue over my lower lip, staring resolutely at the floor. “Hiccup?” I managed finally.
“Yeah?”
“Why are you doing this?” I looked at him, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “Be honest.”
Hiccup hesitated, stirring the wooden spoon listlessly around the soup. “What do you mean?” he said finally.
I sighed, sitting up straight and brushing off my skirts. “You know… helping me.” I have a little laugh. “Heavens knows you don’t need to. So why are you really doing all this?”
Hiccup chewed his lip. “Because I’m going to be the Chief of Berk pretty soon. I need to be able to protect my people.” His gaze fixed on mine. “Even when they don’t like me, or want me to.”
Under his fierce eyes, my insides crinkled. I felt exposed, as if I was being examined under a bright light. I dropped my gaze.
“I’m sorry…” I managed, the words sounding funny in my mouth. I hadn’t apologised to Hiccup, for anything, ever.
“It’s okay.” His voice sounded surprisingly even, like he wasn’t even bothered about all this. So it was just me feeling all these things, was it? He was truly just doing this out of a sense of duty. And honestly, why shouldn’t he? I’d already told myself I was a rude little brat, to be totally honest. I didn’t deserve to have people look after me, at all.
I didn’t meet Hiccup’s eyes. “Um, that’s cool. But thank you, really.”
Hiccup nodded, and handed me a steaming mug of hot soup. “Eat up,” he said. “I’ll leave you the rest… have a good night, Y/n.”
And with that, he disappeared. The house felt suddenly very small and lonely, and I shrunk into myself, staring into the fire, sipping tiny bits of soup until I was all warmed up inside.
I gazed around the cabin. It looked so different, all shining and clean. It made me feel like maybe I might be able to move on; get over them leaving me. I shook my head. That would never happen. I didn’t think I was capable of letting it go, of moving forward with my life. I was seventeen years old, and I still held a grudge against my parents for ‘abandoning’ me when I was twelve.
Thoughts whirled through my brain, at an almost dizzying rate. I left my mug on the table, and went to stand by the open window, facing out into the main road of Berk.
A few children were playing in it, kicking a round wooden ball to each other. I watched them for a minute or two, before an absurd idea struck me. I pushed open the front door. “Hey!” I yelled.
The kids turned to look at me, momentarily forgetting their game. “Can I join you guys?” I asked, feeling brave.
The oldest girl looked confused for a moment, then after a brief pause, gave me a smile and a nod. “Sure!” she called.
I grinned, and shut my door behind me, jogging over to them. Playing ball was something I hadn’t done in years, but it felt good to just relax for a while. Plus, it was amazing to see others doing an activity that didn’t revolve around dragons, so I could join in.
Dragons. I shuddered a little, remembering the awful ride on Toothless, and making my feelings around Hiccup even more complicated.
After a good long play, I collapsed to the ground in a heap, blowing up my breath. “Gosh,” I managed. “I can see why kids like playing ball. It’s fun.” I offered the girl who’d let me come play with them a small smile.
“You’re Y/n, aren’t you?” the girl asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
I hesitated. How did they know who I was? I never really talked to anyone except Astrid, Hiccup and a few other people. Certainly not the children.
“Yeah, I am,” I said slowly. “How do you know my name?”
The little girl allowed herself a smug smile. “Hiccup told us about you.” Turning, she threw the ball to one of her friends.
I was dumbfounded. “Hiccup?”
The girl nodded. “Yeah. He told us you guys used to be friends but now you’re mean to him and won’t let him be nice to you anymore. He said he misses being your friend.”
I wrinkled my nose, staring at her. “Hiccup said he misses me?” I scoffed finally. “There’s no way. You must have heard him wrong. Hiccup hurt me incredibly badly when we were six years old, and ever since then he’s teased and bothered me almost to death. I will never be his friend again.”
I stood, suddenly angry all over again. Angry about how hurt I was, how much I hated Hiccup and my parents for hurting me. I clenched my teeth. “Thank you for letting me join you. Bye.”
I turned and began the walk uphill to Astrid’s house. Right now, I really needed to see my best friend.
When Astrid opened the door, she immediately noticed something was wrong. She frowned. “Are you alright?”
I shook my head. “Everything is so hopeless, A.”
Astrid made a sympathetic face and pulled me into a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” she whispered into my shoulder. “Come on, come inside. It’s freezing.”
Maybe it was. I felt so numb I didn’t think I would’ve noticed even if it was cold enough to give me frostbite. I felt like my insides were frozen, unable to feel anything at all.
Astrid pulled me inside, sitting me down on a chair beside the roaring fire. She knelt down in front of me. “What happened?” she asked, staring into my face.
I shook my head, looking away from her. “I… I don’t even know…” I began to cry, dropping my head in my hands.
Astrid pursed her lips, hugging me again. “Is it your parents? Hiccup? Tell me.”
I took a deep breath, and slowly began to tell her the entire story, beginning yesterday, when Hiccup took me into the woods and the whole, horrible ride on Toothless began. I kept my eyes steadily fixed on the fire as I spoke, quietly recounting the flight, the fight, being lost in the woods and then Hiccup rescuing me and cleaning my house. I even told her about the awkward hug.
The only thing I couldn’t manage to admit to Astrid was how I felt about Hiccup. I couldn’t decide if I hated his guts, or if I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again.
When I was finished, Astrid let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, babe,” she said. “But if you ask me… Hiccup wasn’t at fault for what Toothless was doing during that flight. I think he might be telling you the truth; that he just wanted you to see that dragons aren’t dangerous.”
I nodded slowly. I was beginning to believe that. Of course, that just made me hate dragons even more, but there was no point saying that aloud. Astrid knew I hated dragons even more than I hated Hiccup. I would never, ever trust a dragon.
Astrid studied me. “Do you want to know what else I think?”
I glanced at her. “By the look on your face, no. But I guess you’re going to tell me anyway, so… sure.”
Astrid suppressed a smile. “You know me too well,” she said. “But, what I think is, you don’t hate Hiccup at all. You’re just angry. At your parents mostly. But Hiccup hurt you too, years ago. You’re alone now, so you’re taking out your anger on the only person you have any sort of justification to do so to.”
I was silent. Sadly, her words rang hard and true. I could finally see that, yes, my hatred of Hiccup was really just anger at myself, and my parents. It had honestly nothing to do with Hiccup himself. He’d just been unfortunate enough to annoy me all those years ago, so now I’d decided to hate him because of it.
I shook my head in disbelief. “I’ve been so stupid,” I muttered.
“Not stupid,” Astrid said. “Kinda crazy, maybe, but not stupid.”
I looked at her. “I think… I think I should go and apologize to someone.”
She smiled. “Go.”
I jumped to my feet and ran, leaving her front door swinging open in the wind.
I didn’t stop running until I reached Hiccup’s house. I burst inside without thinking about knocking, but stopped short on the threshold.
“Stoick!” I gaped, trying to find the right words. “I, I am so sorry—“
“Y/n,” Stoick replied, getting to his feet. “What brings you here in such a hurry?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you alright?”
I nodded breathlessly. “What? Yes. Yes, I’m fine, thanks, I just —“
“Were you looking for Hiccup?”
I pursed my lips. “I might’ve been.”
Stoick chuckled. “You’ve got spirit, lass. I like that about you.”
I blinked. “Um, thank you?”
“He’s at the beach.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Chief.”
The path that ran towards the beach was thin and steep, covered in loose rocks that skidded under my shoes. More than once I almost fell off the cliff side.
When I reached the beach, I was surprised at how small it seemed. Then again, I hadn’t been here since I was little. I guess my memories of it had faded. With a start, I realised that the last time I had been here was probably with Hiccup himself, back when we were small and best friends.
I spotted Hiccup’s figure walking through the surf a few hundred meters away. I started toward him, slowly in case I scared him with a sudden approach.
The beach itself was small and rocky, round black stones instead of proper sand. The waves here were little and inconsistent, barely making a splash. Sometimes in the summer, we would have a day or two of good weather, and the waves would be bigger, but that was a pretty rare occurrence.
I reached Hiccup, who was now standing with his hands buried in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“What do you see?” I whispered.
“Freedom,” he replied softly, turning to look at me. “When I’m riding Toothless, nothing is impossible. Me, a human, can fly on the back of a dragon. There is something magical about that, Y/n.”
I chewed my lip, considering his words. I guess there was something amazing about that fact, but still… dragons.
“Um,” I said. “I came here to apologise.”
Hiccup’s green eyes turned a darker shade. “For what?”
I dug the side of my shoe in the sand, my eyes sliding away from his. “For… everything.”
He waited, his eyes roaming my face.
I swallowed. “For not being your friend when I should have been. For hating you and your love for dragons. For being a terrible person. For hitting you and hating you and making your life miserable.” During this little speech, my voice had gotten higher and louder. Now it broke, and I felt tears brimming to my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup,” I cried.
Hiccup didn’t say anything. He stared at me for a count of five, while tears began to stream down my cheeks. What was wrong with me this week? For years, I’d barely cried at all, hiding my emotions inside. Now I was crying, again.
Hiccup did something I didn’t expect. He grabbed my face between his hands. They were tougher than I would’ve thought, calloused and hard from working with metals and wood and materials. He stared into my eyes for long enough for my tears to stop flowing. “Y/n,” he said. “It’s okay. You were forgiven years ago.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace. A week ago, I would’ve fought and hit and yelled at him, but now? I melted into Hiccup’s body, burying my face in his chest and wrapping my arms tightly around him, letting my tears flow freely.
For the first time since my parents died, I felt at peace.
For the next three weeks, I tried my hardest to start a routine. To start cleaning my house, cooking meals every day, and (the hardest part of all), going out and talking to someone each and every morning.
Sometimes I just talked to Astrid, when it got bad and I truly couldn’t get enough emotion energy to talk to anyone else. But sometimes I managed. I talked to the kids playing in the streets, to the other girls I never really talked to before, to the guys helping out in the dragon-saddle-making workshop.
But mostly, I talked to Hiccup. I talked to him as if we’d never stopped being friends, as if we were six years old again. It honestly surprised me how easy it was to get along with him now that I didn’t have an eternal grudge against him. Hiccup was still the same person he’d always been. It was me who had changed.
I made an effort to even start working. I’d never done anything like it before, really, but it was honestly alright. I had a few shifts at the dragon workshop a week, and it was kind of fun after a while. Yeah, sure, I still got terrified when someone actually brought their dragon to the shop, but for the most part it was good.
Hiccup worked there sometimes as well, and so did Stoick. Astrid didn’t, because she was a dragon trainer and didn’t really have the time. I would’ve liked it if we were able to work together, but there was no way I would be able to train dragons. At all.
But, you know, life was pretty alright. I still had scars, deep and hidden and probably incurable, but I also had friends. And hope. And maybe, just maybe, a future.
I woke up screaming. My bedsheets were clutched tight in my fists, a tangled mess around my legs. Hot tears were still rolling down my cheeks, and my chest heaved, as if I’d just run the length of the island in my sleep.
I tried to swallow, tried to even out my breathing. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow properly. I reached for the glass of water that I always had beside my bed, and gulped it down.
I could still evision the awful images from my dreams. Hiccup, Astrid, my parents, all trapped in a circle of flaming dragons. They were screaming for me, calling my name. I couldn’t move, my legs seemingly stuck to the ground. I could do nothing but watch as the dragons slowly spread over the bodies of my loved ones, devouring them. I sank to my knees, screaming in agony.
I shivered, climbing out from under the sheets. I needed to get out of this empty house. I didn’t care if it was the middle of the night, I had to see someone.
I hurried down the stairs, bursting out into the night. Stars glittered in the sky, the night quiet and bright. The cold wind hit me like a wall, and I shuddered. I hadn’t thought of grabbing my jacket.
My feet moved faster than my mind, taking me somewhere that I didn’t even know I wanted to be. I slipped inside Hiccup’s house, tiptoeing to where I knew his room was.
Outside his door, I finally realised what I was doing. Sneaking into Hiccup’s room in the dead of night? What was I thinking? Was I crazy?
Maybe I am, I thought, slowly pushing open Hiccup’s door. I stood still on his doorway for a moment, before quietly slipping over to the side of his bed.
“Hiccup?” I breathed, almost soundlessly.
“Y/n?” Hiccup was instantly awake, sitting up in his bed. “What are you…? Why are you here? Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse from sleep, and he squinted at me.
I hesitated. What was I supposed to say? Oh, I just had a dream about you dying and it terrified me so I’m here to make sure you’re still alive? Of course I wasn’t going to say that.
“I had a nightmare.” I bit my lip, shifting from foot to foot. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
Hiccup’s dark eyes gazed into mine. He leaned back slightly, so he could see me more clearly. “Why did you come to me?” he asked quietly, his voice ragged and raspy.
I dropped my gaze. “You were the only one I thought of coming to,” I whispered. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Hiccup said. “Do… do you want to stay here? Or do you want me to walk you back to your house?”
I hesitated. “Could I please just stay here, with you?” I met his eyes for a brief second.
He smiled. “Anything for you.” He said it so flippantly, I might’ve missed it any other time. But my brains snagged on the words, turning them over and over in my mind. Anything for you…
“Thank you, Hiccup,” I whispered. We were both silent for a while. “Can I… can I stay with you until morning?” I asked.
Hiccup stared at me, then nodded. I slowly crawled onto his bed, leaning against the bed-head. Hiccup glanced at me, then lay back down on his pillow. After a moment, I snuggled down next to him, hyper aware of every part of my body under the sheets.
We were nose to nose. I could feel his hot breath on my face. His green eyes glittered in the darkness.
“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered groggily. “I hope you don’t have any more nightmares.” With that, he closed his eyes, and I heard no more from him.
#hiccup haddock#hiccup x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#hiccup haddock x reader#httyd#how to train your dragon#httyd fanfic
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If requests are open, can I get a Kid Dragon Rider! Reader who managed to befriend/train Drago’s Bewilderbeast? They have always had a penchant for Tidal Class dragons—their own partner dragon being a Sliquifier after all. None of the Berkians knew how they managed to do this or how they feel about it. On one hand, this is the dragon that almost directly got Stoick killed. On the other, Reader can clearly point out the many many many injuries decorating the poor dragon’s body.
They have seen the symptoms of abuse on other dragons, why is this one different?
Could you write the Berkians reaction?
How they would react to kid reader bringing an abused Bewilderbeast back to berk
Note: Reader is about 10-13
Gender neutral! Kid! Reader
Platonic
Tw! Implied death
Hiccup
Hiccup is torn between a lot of things at this moment
He wants to fan boy, he wants to get it out of Berk, he wants to keep it due to the abuse signs on it
He just lets you keep it but you and the dragon have to be watched at all times
He doesn’t want to lose another person
But seriously, he is so fascinated by it, after all, he didn’t get to see Valka’s one for very long
Valka
She’s definitely gonna help you and the dragon
There’s no other option
Even if it was Drago’s dragon, it’s clear that he never treated them well due to the many abuse signs on it
But due to its incredibly big size and power, she wants you to be careful because you’re tiny compared to that thing (It’s kinda funny to see the height difference, ngl)
She’ll help you make sure that the injuries on the dragon aren’t permanent and if they are it won’t affect their abilities
Astrid
She’s pretty iffy about the dragon
She trusts you with her life but she doesn’t trust the dragon
She’s usually the one to keep a close eye on you and the dragon as Hiccup trusts her the most
She understands that the dragon was abused with their time with Drago as she understands that the dragons were controlled by the dragon who was also controlled by Draco out of fear
She’s very considerate of the dragon’s abuse and tries not the trigger it
Snotlout
Bro he panics as soon as he sees the Wilderbeast
And he panics even more when he finds out who the original owner is
Stays 20 feet away from the dragon
He’s kinda jealous that you, a child can train a big dragon like the Wilderbeast
He thinks you’re crazy for being near that dragon, he doesn’t really care about the abuse part
Ruffnut and Tuffnut
They find that dragon so fricking cool
They really don’t care if the dragon was Drago’s or not
They literally climb the big guy, while being careful of the injuries on the dragon
They think you’re so cool for training him correctly
They’re probably gonna do tricks off him, ngl
Fishlegs
Fan boys immediately
He’s taking all sorts of notes about the dragon
He also tends to the wounds of the dragon
He really wants tips on how to train dangerous dragons like the Wilderbeast you have
He really wants to see how dangerous dragon’s handle past abuse
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A Gift from the Gods (1)
Hiccup x F!Reader
Story Summary:
Centuries ago, the gods granted your family a gift. But everyone else saw it as a curse.
You are the last of your clan because others find your family’s gift as anything but. Your life has been filled with hiding in the woods, away from the Vikings who threaten your existence. The forest quickly became your safe space.
Everything in your quiet life suddenly changes when you are spotted by a Viking and his Night Fury, who quickly notice something strange about you.
You had wings… dragon wings.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: Blood
Next Chapter
The forest was unusually quiet, the only sounds being heard were the rustling of leaves and the occasional skittering of an animal. Suddenly, there was the sound of quick footsteps, bare against the grass as they weaved through the thick foliage, running away from whoever was chasing them.
Branches snap when being pushed against, occasionally scratching against the figure breaking them as they hope to get through and evade the threat. The roar of multiple dragons interrupts the once-quiet forest, birds scattering into the air at the sound.
You had been spotted.
The day had started like any other, foraging around for food, and interacting with the local wildlife. Making it to a familiar clearing, your fingers had barely grazed against the berry bush that you had come across before you heard the familiar sound of dragons. Quickly taking refuge behind a thick patch of bushes in the tree line, you fold your wings against your back as much as you can to make yourself seem smaller.
Two dragons suddenly land in the clearing where you once stood, your eyes take them in from behind the leaves and branches. You had never been able to learn about the different types of dragons during your childhood, and now you are only able to identify them by their characteristics. The strange thing about these dragons though, is that they had humans riding on their backs. It was something you had never seen before.
There was a blue one that you promptly called ‘Spike’ due to the spikes on its tail and the crown of spikes coming from its head, ‘Spike’s head twitched slightly as it looked around the clearing. Its rider, a Viking with her blonde hair in a singular braid going down her back, hops off of her dragon before looking over towards her fellow rider.
“What are we even looking for again?” Her voice cuts through the clearing, your body instinctually shrinking even further behind the bush at the harsh tone.
The brunette rider, who was atop a black dragon (you called him ‘Night’ due to how his scales were as dark as the night sky), climbs off to stand beside the blonde.
Your eyes take in the two dragons and their riders, your head tilting in curiosity at the red that replaced the black on one of ‘Night’s tailfins. You also take in ‘Night’s wings, noticing how similar they looked to the wings that were attached to your back.
“We haven’t explored this island yet, Astrid. Who knows what new dragons might be living here.” The brunette says, with a hint of excitement in his tone, towards the blonde who you are now guessing is named ‘Astrid’. His eyes trail over the edge of the forest line, your heart stopping momentarily at how his eyes unknowingly meet yours through the leaves and branches before moving on towards Astrid, her arms crossed across her chest.
“It’s been months since we’ve discovered a new species, Hiccup. What do you think makes this island any different?” So the brunette was named ‘Hiccup’… what an interesting name.
The voices of the riders slowly drifted into the background as you focused on the two dragons as they interacted, it was cute how they played together while their riders talked. You watch as they begin to nod their heads at each other, almost like it was a symbol of playfulness, a small smile twitches at the corner of your lips. You had seen other ‘Spike’s doing this with each other, and it seemed that ‘Night’ had picked up on the movement.
You freeze at ‘Night’ stopping his playful nodding and suddenly looking over towards the bush that you were hiding behind, the dragon’s pupils narrowing at the sight of you. The dragon suddenly leans his head down, stalking slowly towards the bush as his eyes remain locked on you, a deep growl rumbles from his chest.
Your heart begins to race as the dragon gets closer to the bush, ‘Spike’ soon following behind him with her tail raised and her spikes at the ready to attack. Slowly and carefully moving your arms and legs, you try to silently move further into the treeline and further from the dragons and their riders.
“Toothless? What is it, bud?” “Stormfly, what’s the matter?”
You could hear the dragon riders cautiously speak towards their dragons, following slowly behind them as they try to find out the source of the dragons' sudden mood change.
A twig snaps under your foot, a miscalculated step that could cost you your life.
Stormfly flicks her tail quickly at the sound, the spikes that were once on her tail flying straight toward you, as Toothless opens his mouth to shoot a plasma blast. Astrid and Hiccup quickly grab out their weapons once their dragons start the attack.
You managed to use your left wing to block your body from Toothless’ blast and most of Stormfly’s spikes, but you weren’t quick enough to stop one of them, the sharp edge slicing through the skin of your arm as it whizzes past you, warm blood quickly trickling down. A hiss of pain leaves your lips before you cover the oozing wound with your hand, your gaze snapping back to peak over your wing towards the dragons who charge towards you.
Reacting swiftly, you jump up from your hiding position up to your feet and begin to run through the trees. Your heart beats loudly in your chest as you can hear the dragons and their riders following after you. Swerving through the trees, you glance back over your shoulder, a mistake, but it lets you notice that the spikes on Stormfly’s tail got stuck between a tight pair of trees, Astrid staying back to try and help free her dragon.
Without looking towards Hiccup and Toothless, your gaze looks ahead a bit too late, a low-hanging tree branch almost hitting you in the face if you hadn’t ducked. That slip-up was all they needed when you suddenly felt a body slamming into your back, forcing you down onto the ground.
The both of you tumble slightly on the way down, your quick turning causing you to land on your back, but hands quickly grab your shoulders and slam you down. Your eyes snap wide and a sharp cry leaves you as you feel fingers digging into the wound on your upper arm, forest green eyes meet your own as he holds you down.
The pain is a sharp stab, and tears quickly form in your eyes as you keep eye contact with Hiccup, who begins to observe you now that he’s up close and personal. It’s almost as if he doesn’t realize that his hand is slowly getting covered in your blood, his focus mainly on the wings that sprouted from your back, squished between you and the dirt that had been uprooted in your struggle. The both of you don’t even realize that Astrid and the dragons have finally caught up, Hiccup being the first to talk between the three humans.
“What are you?”
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Whispering Woods
Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 1k
Summary: When the world gets too much for you, you have the tendency to 'run' away sometimes. This time you and your dragon don't get the peace and quiet that comes with it for too long as it seems you have an admirer waiting to make their presence known.
Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Hand Kisses'
(Y/N): Your name
(D/N): Dragon's name
(D/S): Dragon species
(W/C): Weapon of choice
*Gif does not belong to me
It wasn't unusual for you to take a break from Berk every once in a while. Hopping on (D/N)'s back and flying off without a word to anyone else on the island. You knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, not when Drago Bloodyfist or whatever Hiccup had called him recently attempted to take control of all of Berk's dragons, but you couldn't help yourself. There was nothing better the disappearing for a few hours with nothing but the wind in your hair, your (D/S) under you and the quietness that came with it.
The only repercussions for disappearing that you've ever gotten were some annoyed friends or a worried Hiccup, which you could say was one of the worse options since he tended to fret when you returned. Though anything was better than a mad Hiccup when you accidentally disappeared for three days and came back to half of Bekr looking for you since Hiccup had gotten worried enough to start a search party.
That's how you found yourself where you were now, surrounded by the quietness of a forest on some random island not too far away from Berk. The flight over had only taken twenty minutes as you and (D/N) took your time flying there.
(D/N) had slunk off not too long ago, making her own way through the forest as she explored, leaving you to your thoughts as you trailed after her, not trying very hard to keep up.
Berk had been hectic recently. Hiccup found his mum, Berk was attacked, you almost lost (D/N), and Stoick died... It was a lot to happen in the span of a few days, closer to a few hours if you don't count Hiccup's extended absence.
This island had seen worse for wear but there was still a lot of work that had to be done. Which you should be doing now but too many people were asking too much of you. You had also been avoiding meeting Hiccup's mum as the two of you had spared only a few words to one another when in the heat of battle.
It was a lot to think of all at once, so you found yourself off the island quicker than the Twins could say boar pit.
Being out here was doing wonders for your mind; calming you down and making it easier to think of nothing at all. It was all you could hope for, even if you knew you would have to head back soon unless you wanted Hiccup to deem this as another one of your escape attempts.
It was only when the forest got quieter than normal did you felt the need to come back to your senses, an actual need to be alert instead of walking around aimlessly as if you were on autopilot.
The soft thumping of (D/N)'s feet from ahead had stopped, along with the birds hidden in trees. The only noise that passed through was the rustling of leaves as a steady breeze glided through the woods. Your hand was itching down to grasp onto the small blade you had strapped to your belt, your (W/C) left on the saddle that (D/N) had run off with.
Before you had the chance to do anything though, a set of hands were slipping around your waist, tugging you back and into someone's chest softly. Years of Viking training were already kicking in as you raised an elbow, ready to dig it back with a low aim when someone caught onto your arm, stopping it in its motion.
"Hey," You struggled to get out, still trying to land a hit on the person behind you and push yourself away, attempting anything that would set you free.
"Calm down," A familiar voice laughed out, surprising you into stillness as your brain realised who it was. At your sudden stop, you were whirled around by the person who had disturbed you, being met with a bright smile and a deep set of green eyes as they bore into you. "I was wondering when you'd notice it was me."
"Hiccup," You deadpan, watching as the taller boy slowly pulled you closer, setting one of his hands on your waist without the hassle of a fight from you trying to dislodge it.
"(Y/N)," He copied, raising one of your hands with his free ones and bringing it up to his face, setting a soft brush of his lips on the back of it in the form of an extended greeting. You watched the motion with warm eyes, the annoyance that had crept up your spine dying down a bit.
"How long have you been here?" You questioned once your fingers got interlocked with his, not going to deny the soft touches as the both of your hands were brought down.
"Not long," Hiccup commented. Standing in front of you, Hiccup seemed like he didn't have a care in the world, reminding you of what you had left behind on Berk and how Hiccup himself could bring this feeling out of you. "Toothless saw you and (D/N) fly off not long ago and wanted to bring me to you so that he could play with them."
"Mm," You hummed, bringing your linked hands back up. For a short moment where your hands stayed hovering in the air, your lashes fluttering at Hiccup, you took him in, the small smile on your face expressing more words than you wanted to at the moment. Laying a kiss on the back of his hand, you murmur, "We better go find them then and make sure they don't get into too much trouble."
#httyd#how to train your dragon#rtte#hiccup horrendous haddock iii#hiccup httyd#hiccup x reader#hiccup#hiccup how to train your dragon#hiccup haddock#httyd hiccup#stoick the vast#hiccup haddock x reader#x reader#reader insert#httyd fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fem reader#fic#eclipsingbingo#eclipsing bingo
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The Outsider
(Part 1)
Hiccup Haddock x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: You wound up on the shores of Berk after something… had happened to you. Thankfully someone had found you and reported your presence to the Chief.
————————————————————
Life on Berk was running just as smooth as ever. Well, other than the occasional fire spreading here and there, Vikings roughhousing over the smallest inconvenience, it was as peaceful as an island full of Vikings and dragons could be. That was until one random day, you washed up on shore.
Of course you weren’t noticed right away but it certainly didn’t take long for someone to eventually stumble across you and your tattered piece of driftwood lying helplessly on the sand. You were in pretty bad condition, you hadn’t eaten in days and had several visible injuries that would cause further problems if they weren’t dealt with.
Thankfully the person who had found you knew to bring you the Gothi, the village healer, as well as informing the chief of your unannounced arrival.
You certainly stirred conversations among the Vikings as news spread quickly of your presence. Many murmurs of disapproval circulated as many people believed it would be a repeat of what had happened the last time someone had wound up stranded on the shores of Berk.
Now you lay in Gothis house, on a cot she had set out for you as she tended to your wounds. You were still very much unconscious so you had no idea you had gained some visitors. If you were awake you might have been honored to know one of those visitors was none other than the chief of the village himself, Hiccup Haddock.
Hiccup and his very close friend, who had insisted she’d come along, Astrid Hofferson. Hiccup and Astrid had a somewhat complicated relationship over the years, having dated for a little while when they were younger but decided to break it off because of their differing visions for the future. Thankfully they worked out their issues and managed to still remain very close friends. Astrid often lended a hand in any errands Hiccup often got overwhelmed by, and they worked well together.
Now here they were, standing in front of your unconscious body, questioning what on Earth they were going to do.
“They look to be in pretty bad shape.” Hiccup said, his finger tapping his chin as you looked down at you. His eyes very carefully took in the intricate details of your face, trying to discern whether he’s seen you before. Maybe you were a dragon trapper?
He then looked at your hair, the color and texture not ringing any bells for him. He then looked at your eyes, well more accurately, your eyelids. They lay still and motionless as you continued to sleep which he found quite odd, but then again he figured you were too weak to even dream at this point. Although, he found a sense of curiosity when it came to your eyes, what did they look like? What color were they? Were they pretty?
Stupid questions to ask in a situation such as this.
“Well who knows how long they were out at sea.” Astrid finally replied. It seemed as if she too was looking over your features, not recognizing you in the slightest. She shook her head as if she was answering her own question. Hiccup then let out a sigh, knowing his next point was not going to go over well with her.
“They’re going to need some place to stay while they heal.”
“What?”
Called it.
“I said they’re going to need some place to stay.” Hiccup repeated, as he looked over to the blonde haired girl who looked as if she just watched Hiccup get carried off by a dragon and returned in a matter of seconds right before her eyes.
“You can’t be serious.” She began, the amount of shock evident in her voice suggested she was almost disappointed that Hiccup would even think of such an idea.
She continued, “What do you mean stay? You can’t possibly be thinking about keeping them here.”
“And what if I am?” The man argued, at least attempting to stand his ground. It wasn’t too often he was taken very seriously when he made decisions, but his stubbornness usually won out in the end.
“Uh hello, do you not remember what happened last time we helped someone who wound up stranded on our shores?” Astrid questioned, her hands planted firmly on her hips as if she was a stern mother scolding their child. Hiccup was usually quite a smart leader, but in instances like this, his morals often clouded his judgment.
In Astrid’s eyes, putting others' needs before your own can be very selfless, but when you put someone else’s needs in front of your own, as well as potentially everyone else on Berk? That’s where she starts to have a problem.
“I hear you Astrid but we can’t believe that everyone who winds up on our shore is out to get us, besides look at them. Who would injure themselves for the sake of taking over the village?” He asked genuinely, gesturing towards you. Thinking back to when Heather had arrived, sure she came in an overturned boat, but at least she had a boat. You had come on a literal piece of driftwood and nothing more. If someone was trying to use you as bait, they certainly weren’t prioritizing the success rate of you even arriving on Berk in the first place.
“I don’t know Hiccup, maybe someone who’s really committed? Maybe someone who has no other choice?” Astrid argued.
“If they have no other choice then we have to help them.” He responded. It was at this point Astrid was beginning to see that Hiccup had already made up his mind and arguing with him was going to be the same as arguing with a brick wall.
And yet she persisted.
“Hiccup, we can't put our noses into everyone else’s business, if they’re in trouble that’s their problem. We don’t always have to get involved.” She tried, but Hiccup's gaze was stern and unwavering. It was clear that he truly believed in his cause and he was going to stick beside it.
“We do when they wind up on our island Astrid.”
Astrid sighed, turning away from Hiccup for a moment as she gave the option a thought. Once she turned back towards him she raised her hands in defeat.
“Okay, alright. But I’m still going to heavily question them the exact moment they wake up.” She joked a bit, earning a small chuckle from Hiccup as he turned back to face you. Normally when Berk had a guest, he would offer his house to stay in.
However, maybe Astrid was right to at least be a little cautious this time so he decided against it. Maybe it was best for them to stay here, it would also give Gothi time to watch over them to make sure they’re healing properly. Once they heal, then they can discuss the living arrangements.
“Guess all we do now is wait.” Hiccup sighed before finally looking away from you and then back to Astrid. “It could be days until they wake up, let us know if anything happens.” Hiccup requested, now looking down at Gothi who gave him a smile and a nod. With that confirmation, Hiccup said his goodbyes and began to walk outside, but not before taking one last look at you.
He had convinced himself that he kept looking at you to see if he recognized you and for no other reason at all.
Three days had passed by and you still had not woken up. Hiccup and Astrid had been by several times, a few times together, but usually on their own time. You wounds were making very slow healing progress but you were still not receiving the proper amounts of food.
It was beginning to get worrying.
That was until randomly around noon on the third day, your eyes shot open and you quickly rose from your cot, ultimately regretting your decision as you became very dizzy almost immediately. You tried to steady yourself by proposing your arms up behind you, but eventually gravity seemed to have taken full control of your body and dragged you right back down to the cot.
Once the dizziness had dissipated a bit, you looked around at your very new surroundings. The last you remembered was… well you couldn’t quite remember really. You could hear the faint voice of a man in your memory, but you couldn’t place who it could have come from.
As you continued to look around the very homey little cottage-like house you were now in, you eventually noticed a very short woman walking towards you with a bowl in hand. As she neared you she had to continue to shoo away several little lizard type animals that continued to try and swarm her to steal the food.
It took you a moment before you realized those weren’t just lizards, they were dragons.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watched the woman handle the beasts with such care and affection.
Great, you happened to wind up in some crazy woman’s cottage in the middle of who knows where.
You carefully sat back up, steadying yourself to prevent you from getting dizzy again as you looked towards the woman.
“Where am I?” You asked, but your voice was hoarse and scratchy from not having been used in days. The woman merely stared at you with a smile as she held the bowl of what looked to be like soup, towards you, urging you to eat.
You shook your head, trying to get her to answer before you asked again, “Where am I?”. In return she shook her head, now practically shoving the soup in your face. You finally took the soup from her, hoping that now she would answer you, but instead she turned right back around and began working on something else.
You simply stared in confusion before looking around you for some way out. That’s when you saw it, the door. Sure you couldn’t really run but the woman seemed largely occupied. Besides, you could argue you just needed fresh air.
Easy.
Or so you thought.
You carefully put your feet onto the ground, the floorboards creaking beneath you as you slowly put your weight down. You carefully began to push yourself upwards into a standing position, occasionally wobbling here and there but you were managing. You almost felt like some kind of sea creature learning how to use their new legs. You hugged the wall as you slowly but surely made your way towards the door, swinging it open and walking out.
You didn’t know what to expect, but you were hoping to see a village of some sort, maybe even a large woodland area, but you quickly realized you had been very mistaken. Oh sure, there was a village, but it was currently several hundred feet below the house you were currently standing in.
“Why in god's name would they build this so high up?” You wondered to yourself, and just as you had managed to stick your head even the slightest bit over the edge to peak below, you heard a loud roar from an animal you had never heard before.
You scrambled away from the edge, afraid that you may have upset some sort of creature that lived under the weird balcony that was a part of this house. It didn’t take you long to realize that the roar you had heard did not come from below, but instead it had come from above. Your head shot up to look for the source of the noise and your eyes widened as you made eye contact with a…
“Night Fury?” You shrieked, well as well as you could've with such a broken voice. With all your might you brought yourself back up and scrambled back into the house, slamming the door behind you. Suddenly this woman didn’t seem crazy because you could’ve sworn you saw someone riding that Night Fury. You’d have to be insane to even think of doing something like that.
Maybe sitting down and just having your soup was the best option right now, besides you were probably just hallucinating. After all, Night Furies went extinct years ago… right?
You sat down, finally beginning to take in some of the very warm meal that the strange woman had prepared for you, and you couldn’t lie it was pretty tasty. Well tasty in Viking terms of food. The warmth of the meal actually began to calm you down a slight bit before you heard a knock at the door that you had previously slammed, followed by a slightly concerned and confused voice.
“Uh, hey Gothi? Are we able to come in, didn’t mean to scare your guest like that.” The voice said from the other side of the door. The only thing you could really tell from it was that it was a young man. You then looked towards the woman, who you assumed to be Gothi, as she hobbled over to the door, now opening it.
Once the door had been fully opened, you locked eyes with the man now standing in the doorway and it immediately clicked. You weren’t hallucinating, that man was actually riding a dragon. And no one else was reacting to this?!
#httyd#httyd fanfiction#x reader#httyd fandom#httyd 2#hiccup#hiccup and toothless#hiccup haddock x reader#httyd hiccup#hiccup haddock#hiccup x reader#hiccuphorrendoushaddockiii#hiccup how to train your dragon#how to train you dragon: the hidden world#how to train a dragon 2#how to train your dragon#idk how to tag this#dragons#x gn reader#httyd x reader#httyd eret#httyd fanfics#httyd 3#astrid hofferson#astrid httyd
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Hello im so glad it’s open. Hiccup x reader when the reader is afraid of dragon and she is a Viking that try to not to be vulnerable and strong but hiccup could see right trough her. Sort of enemy to lovers (reader mostly) and the end Toothlees love her.
Thank you 🙏 😍🥰🥰
'we'll be brave together' - hiccup haddock
masterlist
Hiccup is returning from a wild dragon ride through the clouds when he realizes that he might finally know the secret of the bravest Viking Berk has ever seen.
It’s not like he’s the first one who’s tried to parse out the details of Y/N L/N. There’s hardly a soul in the village who hasn’t. Y/N has been the strongest of the strong, the fastest of the fast, ever since she started training. Everyone their age either wants to be her or beat her, and neither option is remotely reasonable.
Hiccup is no stranger to Y/N’s reputation. How could he not? She started training to fight dragons a year early, purely because it was so obvious she would be an asset to Berk that the elders couldn’t wait to put her out there. She’s been saving lives since she was small. Hiccup wouldn’t be surprised if her first words as a child were a rallying call to arms.
Courage inspires courage, but it’s impossible to see someone that naturally good at everything without trying to find some chink in the armor, a way, no matter how miniscule, to prove that they’re still human. Still like you. But no matter how hard people search, Y/N still seems relentlessly, impossibly perfect. Sure, she has her off days, just like anyone else, but she’s so good that it doesn’t even seem to matter. There has to be something off, but no one else can figure it out.
Except Hiccup, maybe. Probably not, but maybe. Hiccup’s no stranger to the maybes of the world. He’s proven quite a lot of them in his time. Maybe Hiccup, skinny, clumsy Hiccup, could manage to do well in the dragon fighting classes. Maybe he could save Berk from threats. Maybe he could do a decent job of governing a tumultuous group of Vikings on one of the most inhabitable rocks known to man. And maybe, just maybe, he could find the loophole in Y/N L/N’s otherwise flawless streak of victories.
Hiccup only gets the idea when he’s touching down from another dizzying flight. No matter how many times he and Toothless take to the skies, it never gets old. Somehow, each and every time Hiccup and his dragon leave the world behind, chase the stars, shoot the breeze, it feels like Hiccup’s very first time up in the air. The majesty never leaves him.
And so Hiccup was very reluctantly starting to plan out his landing when he saw Y/N below him. Ax in hand, she was probably coming back from yet another round in the training grounds, and judging by the cocky grin on her face, she’d probably been very triumphant yet again. She had a victorious bounce to her step, and as she headed back to her house, it seemed as if nothing could happen to break the young woman’s stride.
Nothing, that is, until Toothless swooped in low from the side, casting his shadow upon the ground where Y/N walked. She had done her best to hide it, but Hiccup had seen it– an uncontrollable flinch, a quick jerk of her head towards the sky to assess the threat, and then, so foreign to him that Hiccup almost wondered if he had mistook another girl for Y/N, a spark of fear in her eyes.
Fear. In Y/N L/N. It made no sense. Hiccup has never known Y/N to be afraid. Not even when facing off against Vikings twice her height. It’s as if the word has simply never entered her vocabulary. Yet the memory of Y/N’s reaction to the arrival of Toothless is burned into Hiccup’s memory as if by a brand. Yes, there’s no doubt about it. Y/N was afraid.
This should mean nothing at all. Berk, although recently accustomed to think of dragons in friendlier terms, has been an enemy of the scaly fliers for as long as Hiccup can remember. A recent change in their mindset would not substantially change their long term memory, which firmly cements dragons as a dangerous enemy. Of course anyone would flinch upon seeing a dragon suddenly emerge from the clouds, especially a Night Fury.
But Y/N isn’t just anyone. Now that he comes to think of it, Y/N has been rather separate from the rest of Berk regarding her reaction to dragons descending upon the village. She has yet to adopt a dragon, claiming that she’d rather prove her skill as a Viking by herself instead of needing to depend on a dragon to do the work for her. And back before Hiccup even crossed paths with Toothless at all, he has memories of Y/N during her dragon training days, how she used to completely lock down her emotions, facing the dragons when required but never so much as looking at them unless she absolutely had to do so.
It couldn’t be, yet it is. The more Hiccup thinks about it, the more he’s certain it’s true. Y/N is afraid of dragons. Not just Hiccup’s dragon, all dragons. Hiccup feels a sudden rush of sympathy for the woman. Although she’s as proud and brave as any, being around the thing she fears the most day in and day out must be taking a toll on her spirits.
And so, although it’s probably a terrible decision, Hiccup makes up his mind to help her as best he can. They’ve never really been friends, in fact, quite the opposite; Y/N was in accordance with the typical Berk mindset that Hiccup was a nuisance since he didn’t quite think like the rest of the Vikings, and they’ve clashed over that ever since. However, Hiccup remembers quite painfully what it was like to fear what everyone else seemed to embrace, and it’s a nasty feeling. Y/N doesn’t deserve to suffer through that, even if their relationship hasn’t always been the sunniest.
True to form, Y/N is glaring at him from the moment she opens her door to find Hiccup smiling awkwardly at her from the front step. “What do you want?” She asks crossly, making it obvious that she has far better things to do than entertain him.
Hiccup grins weakly. “I think I can help you.”
Y/N raises a dubious brow, taking an obvious glance over Hiccup. “You do? With what, philosophy?”
Hiccup forces a chuckle. “Maybe some other time. No, I’m talking about your, ah, dragon problem.”
If there was any doubt in Hiccup’s mind that Y/N was really afraid of dragons, it is completely erased from the moment he brings up the subject. Immediately, her entire expression ices over, but even as her glare sharpens in value, he spots something bright behind her mask, something like fear. She really doesn’t want anyone figuring out, does she?
Y/N glances around quickly to make sure no one could have possibly overheard, then quickly jerks her chin towards the inside of her house. “Fine. Come in.”
Inwardly, Hiccup cheers. He wasn’t entirely certain that she wouldn’t do something drastic to protect her secret, like stab him in the back or shove him into the sea. He still runs the risk of being poisoned, but he figures he’s safe from that so long as he doesn’t eat or drink anything while he’s here.
Once they’re both sitting opposite each other across her wooden table, Y/N fixes him with a steely gaze. “Start talking. How did you know that I–”
Her voice trails off, but Hiccup can guess she’s talking about her fear of dragons. “I only figured it out recently, honest. I had no idea until just now. No one would guess.”
“Yeah, I try to keep it that way,” Y/N remarks dryly. “But you could tell?”
“You don’t like Toothless,” Hiccup explains. “And yeah, he is a Night Fury, and that takes a little while to get over, but most people in the village consider him an ally by now.”
“Except me,” Y/N supplies, glancing towards the table.
“Yeah,” Hiccup agrees. “Except you. Plus, the hesitance to get a dragon of your own.”
“No Viking should accept a dragon unless they can defend themselves!” Y/N argues. “Otherwise, you’ll leave yourself stranded in case something happens. It would be a monumentally stupid risk to take.”
“I feel like that’s a really targeted comment,” Hiccup complains, “but yeah, even with that argument, it made sense once I connected the dots. You’re afraid of dragons.”
Y/N’s eyes narrow. “Did you just come here to hold that over me? What is this, blackmail?”
Not a fan of the way she’s eyeing the carving knife near her place at the table, Hiccup hastily raises his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey. Hey. No blackmail. That wouldn’t be very, uh, Viking of me. Where’s the strength in that? And you know I’m all about strength. And courage. Lots of courage. In fact, that’s why I came here today. I want to help you get over your fear.”
Y/N looks at him doubtfully, but at least she’s stopped inching her hand towards the carving knife. “You want to help me.”
“Yeah,” Hiccup replies earnestly, “I do. It’s better for all of us if we don’t have to feel like we’re hiding things. So? Will you let me help you?”
Y/N stares at him for a long time. At last, she jerks her head up and down in a sharp nod and says, “I will.”
Hiccup claps his hands together excitedly before pushing away from the table. “Perfect. I already have a first lesson in mind.”
Y/N looks substantially less inclined to trust him when she realizes that her first lesson involves getting to know Toothless on a far more personal level. “I thought we were going to ease into this. Like talking about it or something.”
Hiccup shakes his head. They’re both walking through the forest, crunching leaves and stepping over fallen boughs on their way to meet up with the Night Fury. “Not a chance. You don’t gain anything from talking. Besides, I figured you’re the kind of person who likes action over sitting around.”
“I do when it doesn’t involve dragons,” Y/N mutters from somewhere behind him.
Hiccup just grins. “You’ll like Toothless if you give him a chance, honestly.”
They emerge into a clearing. Toothless is curled up in the center, soaking in the sunlight. Immediately, Y/N freezes behind him. Now that she doesn’t have to try and hide from him, Hiccup can see firsthand how bad her fear truly is. Y/N’s eyes are wide, and her breath seems caught in her throat. She seems unable to move a single step.
Hiccup comes back to her side. “Do you trust me?” He asks plainly.
“I think,” she whispers back, her eyes still firmly fixed on the resting dragon in front of her.
“That’s fine,” Hiccup tells her. “At least believe me when I say there’s absolutely no chance that I’d let you get hurt. It would look awful if a chieftain’s son got his best fighter killed by his own dragon, wouldn’t it? You know it’s my responsibility to lead Berk, do you really think I’d risk my popularity by getting you murdered?”
“I trust that,” she admits, and lets Hiccup lead her further into the clearing, until she’s right in front of the dragon.
Sensing visitors, Toothless pokes his head up, exhaling a soft snort from his nose. Y/N flinches back from the movement, but to her credit, she doesn’t try to run.
“This is Y/N,” Hiccup tells Toothless. “You two are going to get to know each other, alright?”
Toothless regards Y/N with faint curiosity. Hiccup reaches out and presses a quiet hand to the dragon’s snout. “Now it’s your turn, alright?” He tells Y/N.
Y/N shakes her head quietly. “There’s no way I’m touching the dragon.”
“He’s not going to hurt you,” Hiccup promises. “Come on, we’ll do it together.”
He takes his hand away from Toothless’ snout and presses his palm against the top of Y/N’s hand. Slowly, carefully, he moves their hands together until they’re both resting against Toothless’ snout. Y/N breathes out once, a great sigh, but doesn’t move. Carefully, Hiccup takes his hand away, and then it’s just Y/N and the dragon. Toothless leans slightly forward into the touch. Hiccup waits for something to happen, for Y/N to flinch away again or give in to her fear, but instead, a shaky smile crosses her face.
“He’s nice,” she says.
Hiccup pulls a face. “He’s only trying to impress you.”
Even his feigned irritation can’t last for long. At the sight of the quiet joy on Y/N’s face, Hiccup can’t help but smile as well.
“What’s my next lesson?” Y/N asks.
“Flying,” Hiccup says. “Do you feel ready for that?”
Y/N glances back towards him, a cross look on her face. “I’m a Viking. I’m ready for anything.”
She laughs, though, and so does he. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Hiccup climbs onto Toothless, then extends a hand to help Y/N up as well. Toothless, to his credit, is quite gentle when going airborne, although Y/N still holds tight onto Hiccup just in case. He’s not sure that he minds, though. She doesn’t, either, because she keeps holding onto him, even after the flying turns smooth, even after the colors around them flit from saturation to saturation, as clouds frost their vision and the air grows cold from height.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Y/N announces as they soar over the sea. “Nothing about this is scary. I can’t believe I waited this long to figure that out.”
“It grows on you, doesn’t it?” Hiccup remarks. “All of a sudden, it’s the only thing you want to do.”
“Yeah,” Y/N says. “Exactly like that.”
When he looks back at her, Y/N’s expression is soft and sweet. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her like this, unafraid to be vulnerable, to let her real self shine through.
“Thanks for helping me,” she says quietly.
“Any time,” Hiccup promises, and he realizes he means it.
She smiles. “You have to be careful, I might take you up on that offer.”
Hiccup meets her gaze, and finds nothing but happiness there. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Below them, the waves surge, and the birds swoop. They fly on forever.
requested by @hope92100, i hope you enjoy!
disney tag list: @avadakadabra93, @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @faerieroyal, @goldfish4403
#hiccup#hiccup imagines#hiccup x reader#hiccup oneshot#hiccup haddock#hiccup haddock imagines#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup haddock oneshot#httyd#httyd imagines#httyd x reader#httyd oneshot#how to train your dragon#how to train your dragon imagines#how to train your dragon x reader#how to train your dragon oneshot#httyd hiccup#httyd hiccup imagines#httyd hiccup x reader#httyd hiccup oneshot
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Sunrise | Hiccup Haddock
Hiccup Haddock Masterlist
Summary: An early morning ride turns into a race between you and Hiccup.
Pairing(s): Hiccup Haddock x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Heights
Notes:
Reader is a dragon rider
Readers dragon is never specified
Take place on Dragons Edge
|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|
——————————————————————
Hiccup makes handling dragons look easy.
It’s not.
It seems that Dragon Hunters have a never ending schedule of making your life difficult.
All you wanted to do was sit outside your hut (that you spent far too much time trying to decide where to place) and enjoy the beautiful view with your dragon, your boyfriend, or your friends.
Easier said than done.
When your boyfriend is Hiccup Haddock who has devoted most of his life to protecting dragons, free time doesn’t come often.
Hiccups values are part of the reason you fell so hard for him, but sometimes it seems to take from your relationship.
Laying in your bed thinking all of this over in your head is not a great start to your morning.
So, you climb out of your bed and throw on some clothes.
You whistle as a sort of wake up call to your dragon who is sleeping soundly.
Your dragon groans and moans barely opening one eye to look at you. This was their way of saying, “Do you know what time it is?”
You scoff under your breath completely aware they could still hear it, "Don't worry, I haven't lost track of the time. Let's go for a ride, just you and me." You move to get their saddle as they move around loudly in protest.
"Weren't you the one who wanted to start doing this?" You bring up the time Hiccup mentioned that he and Toothless go for early morning rides often and your dragon looked at you as if to say, "We should do that!"
Your dragon lets out a regretful moan in response.
You throw the heavy saddle over their back with little difficulty.
"Come on, if you really don't like it, we'll end it early."
____________________
Your dragons behavior has done a full one-eighty. How the dragon you're riding on now and the one you argued with this morning were the same creature baffles you.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" You tease, watching your dragon close their eyes at the feeling of the wind hitting their face.
They snort and suddenly drop a few feet in the air.
A shriek makes it's way out of your mouth and it takes you a few moments to realize that you aren't falling anymore.
"Not funny." You ground your teeth a little.
All your dragon does is laugh in response.
Just when you got over the shock in your body does a familiar voice startle you.
“Good morning, milady!”
Turning your head to peer over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the voice, returning his wide grin with your own.
“Good morning!” You laugh, only needing to wait a minute more before Hiccup and Toothless were right beside you.
Your own dragon and Toothless exchange greetings as you and Hiccup chat.
“Didn’t expect to see you out so early. Something on your mind?” Hiccup questions
You shake your head, grin never faltering, “Just wanted some fresh air, before everyone wakes up. But it seems someone is up.”
Hiccup chuckles, “Oh, you know, just out looking for some adventure. Right, bud?” Toothless grumbles in agreement.
“Adventure, you say? Well, do share with the group.” Your tone is playful.
Hiccup waves his hand in dismissal, “Unfortunately, me and Toothless have seen quite enough adventure for one day. But, I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing our stories to you, milady.”
“You’re all out of adventure for the day? Don’t say that, Snotlouts not even up yet.”
Hiccup's laugh echos around you.
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"So this is where you run off to hm?" You tease sitting down on what you previously believed to be a watch tower. Now realizing it was Hiccup's camouflaged hideout.
Hiccup scoffs playfully, "I don't run off anywhere."
"You're right, you fly." You add
Both Hiccup and your dragon roll their eyes but Toothless lets out a snort of amusement.
"At this point he barely walks himself anywhere, isn't that right?" You look over at Toothless, who happily humors you.
"All right, all right. I guess I won't take you on any morning rides anymore bud." Hiccup voices looking a little smug.
Toothless no longer looks amused.
"Nothing to say Toothless?" Hiccup pokes, earning a glare from the Nightfury.
"Don't worry, Toothless. If he doesn't take you on any morning flights, I will." You whisper loud enough for the other two to hear you, earning a protest from both.
Toothless lets out a laugh and hops around in satisfaction.
Your dragon makes loud noises of detestment and even goes as far as glaring at Toothless.
"What?" You address the cranky dragon, "Do you know how hard it was to get you out of the hut this morning? I'm sure Toothless wouldn't make it so hard for me?" You tease
"Now wait a minute, who said you could steal my dragon?" Hiccup says
"Your dragon." You reply and hear Toothless agree behind you.
Hiccup's mouth opens but no words come out.
You were too busy soaking in the satisfaction you felt from Hiccup's response that you didn't notice your dragon make its way over to you until they knocked you over with their head.
"Hey!" You shriek as your dragon "attacks" you.
You can hear Hiccups laugh in the background and Toothless' sound of surprise.
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I was just teasing!" Finally they let up looking satisfied with themselves.
"Like rider, like dragon." Hiccup comments
You scoff, "Says you."
Hiccup leans back against a rock, "Says me." He agrees.
You lean back against your dragon and shake your head.
After a few moments of comfortable silence you reopen the conversation, "Any news from Johann?"
Hiccup sighs, "No. I know he's scouting almost as much as us but it's as if they've gone completely underground."
"Maybe they finally feel defeated. With the more people we meet and become friends with, the more unpopular the dragon hunters get." You add
"Maybe. Or they're planning their next ambush on a new dragon. I feel uneasy with how quiet they've been." Hiccup confides
"We'll keep looking Hiccup. Once we find them we'll stop whatever they're doing, just like we've done before."
Hiccup nods in agreement.
You find a way to bring up your next sentence, "While the dragon hunters are quiet maybe.. we could spend some time to enjoy it." At Hiccup's confused face, you continue, "It's been a long time since we've hung out together, just the two of us."
"We're hanging out together right now?" Hiccup says.
"I know. But just the two of us." You repeat
"Oh. Oh." Hiccup understands
"I know everything has been chaotic, I was just wondering since we seem to finally have some downtime. It'd be beneficial spending it doing something other than talking about the dragon hunters." You explain
"No, you're right. It has been a while since we've hung out, just the two of us. What were you thinking?" Hiccup asks
"I don't know, I wasn't even sure if you wanted to so I didn't really think about what." You say
"You think I wouldn't want to hang out with you? Of course I'd want to hang out with just the two of us, I enjoy your company more than anyone else." Hiccup says
You smile genuinely, "I've been wanting to go down on the beach and examine the shells, see if I could find any fossils or something. How about that?"
Hiccup grins, "Yeah, that sounds really fun."
Your smile grows and you stand up feeling high on adrenaline, "Come on. The others we'll be up soon and we don't want them setting the edge on fire before breakfast again." You offer your hand to Hiccup.
"No we don't." Hiccup takes your hand, "Thank you milady."
"So..race you back to the edge!" You hop on your dragons back.
"Wha-Hey! Wait a minute!" Hiccup calls after you hopping on Toothless' back, "That's not fair!"
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edited on 05/13/2024
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How about Astrid ruffnut hiccup and heather x a smartass reader who rides a timerjack, because I know the pain of not being able to scratch my back.
Astrid,ruffnut,hiccup and heather x smartass reader who rides a timberjack
*demon noises*👹
My first httyd request!,I love timberjacks they're so cool,I love most the dragons tho so.
Not being able to scratch your back must be a pain in the ass :/
Has been proofread
Astrid
I dont think It would be a surprise that you and her would get along
Your both badasses and smart
However sometimes you do lose her,if you go into particular detail she doesn't always understand
Stormfly and your timberjack get along extremely well,they're both beautiful and magnificent dragons
It's nice to sometimes just go on a night flight together with no one annoying you
She likes to listen to your ideas and rambles,even if she cant understand everything she still listens
On winter nights you both take a walk sometimes and sit under a tree whilst your timberjack sheilds you from the cold
If your ever running low on wood you,her stormfly and your timberjack go to a forest and have a day of chopping wood and having fun.
She likes to watch when you and hiccup or fishlegs play masons and talons agaisnt eachother,obviously cheering you on
If your timberjack ever needs their back scratched pleas do it
During missions Astrid and stormfly will stay close to you and try deflect any arrows that get to close to you since your timberjacks wings are so big
Having date nights when it's raining underneath a timberjacks wing>>
She likes to chip in on your dragon ramblings
If you do any illustrations or make anything she'll ask if she can see it,she likes seeing your work :)
Loves to spar with you
Ruffnut
She loves you so much
Your relationship dynamic is literally,stupid chaotic and smart(chaotic/good/etc)
She likes to give your timberjack back scratches
She loves to listen to your rambles,she wont understand anything but she'll sit there like this (////ó//w//ò////)
Shes head over heels for you
She puts her full trust in the words you say,you could just be saying the stupidest shit ever and she'll completely agree with you
She likes the fact that you have a destructive dragon
She will test how sharp your timberjacks talons are so you might want to supervise her around your timberjack
Will kick tuffnut off belch so you can ride on him
She will have input on many things and openly tells you
Tuffnut is nice to you(mainly so ruffnut dosnt do anything to macey)
Will ask if she can ride your timberjack,if you do say yes just make sure she dosnt end up decimating berks trees
Hiccup
I think it's pretty obvious that you would both get along
Both of you give your own input and ideas/suggestions to eachother
Hes never met someone who rides a timberjack so he will ask if he can study them
If you allow him to he will be very careful and delicate
Toothless and the timberjack get along so well,and they are both so cute,you found your timberjack with its wing on toothless with both of them sleeping once
Hiccup is very supportive of your ideas and constantly asks for your opinion and ideas
During the time when him and viggo where at each others necks he asks you what you think would be the right move,hes especially stressed with the viggo situation so he needs all the help and support he can get.
He and toothless help you and your timberjack improve on dodging and evasive maneuvers
Sometimes if you help with the twins and snotlout hes ever so grateful
He loves how smart you are and if he's ever on a mission with you and one of the twins or snotlout tags along you basically translate what hiccups saying
Heather
She dosnt always understand what you say but she'll try her best
She trys to learn more and read books so she understands you more
She feels bad for not always understanding you but she makes up for it by being affectionate
She loves to spar with you and try improve not only her own skills but your aswell
Windshear and her cover for you alot,windshears scales are very thick and so she can take hits every so often
She finds your timberjack very fascinating
Your timberjack and windshear get along very well
You and heather once had a friendly competition to see whether windshears spines were sharper or your timberjacks talons
Every so often she likes playing masons and talons with you
Although dagur may at first seem stand off-ish and harsh hes not,hes just protective and worried for heather
You are one of the only people who windshear let's ride her
#cattonic writes#how to train your dragon#httyd#httyd x reader#hiccup x reader#astrid x reader#heather x reader#ruffnut x reader#hiccup haddock#astrid hofferson#ruffnut#heather httyd#timberjack#timberjack rider reader
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Second Magic
Pairing(s): Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & II / witch!fem!reader
Word count: 2.OK
Content/Warnings: soulmates, reincarnation, immortal, soft magic, slice of life, fluff, minimal use of y/n, minor angst, implied sexual themes, minor blood
Summary: Death claims everyone at some point. Unfortunately for you, your gift of magic cursed you with eternal youth and an ability that has shunned you from the village of Berk. More than one-hundred years later, memories resurface when you’re visited for a potion from Berk’s next chief.
He was the spitting image of your long-lost love—your soulmate—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.
a/n: hello there everyone! I'm back with something new to add to the hiccupxreader tags. still on my mythical/magical kick. I do plan to have about three parts to this. so please stay tuned for updates, or let me know if you'd like to join a tag list. thank you and please enjoy.
There came a knock at the door. No one ever knocked on a witch's door by accident.
From the bedroom window, you peeked through the muslin curtain. Below the two-story cottage, grew a garden of lush greens and wild flowers. Where the weeds and dandelions led a trail to your front porch, a figure stood at your door. More pestering thuds bothered the home and the skin of your nose wrinkled. Muttering a thing or two, you ambled down the aching stairs. Before reaching the door, you rummaged through a decorative drawer, procuring a gray river rock. It was enchanted with one of your magic spells—a screeching stone, you called it.
“You can stop trying to break down my door,” you said, pressing the stone against the entryway. “Didn’t you read the sign posted on the oak tree outside? Clearly, it said no trespassing.”
“No—think I might’ve missed it,” the muffled voice of a young man answered, and it seemed honest enough. The stone hummed at the response. “Are you [Y/N], by chance?”
“There’s a chance I could be,” you said with soured lips. “Not many people come this far into the woods. And fewer people know of me, let alone my name. Which leads me to ask, who exactly sent you?”
“Gothi sent me. She mentioned you two knowing each other,” he replied in truth, and the stone continued its soft hymns. “She said if there’s anyone who could help me, it would be you.”
She’s still alive?
“That all depends. I trust Gothi, but I’ll need to trust you as well. You can start by telling me your name.”
There was a beat in the air. “It’s Hiccup.”
The ghost of your breath trapped itself inside your chest. That name—it had been buried beneath over a century ago. Yet the stone sang sweetly, and your heart squeezed in a haunting delight. A part of you wished it would scream. Wretched and revolting as it was, it would give you reason to cast the stranger away.
To your grief, he wasn’t so much a stranger as you thought.
Pocketing the stone, you opened the door with a creak. Meeting the green meadow of his eyes, your magic dug its fiery claws between your ribs. With all your power, you tried not to let his familiar freckles unsettle you. Fearing if you did, your magic would spring out of control. The windows would shatter. The roof would crumble to dust. The fireplace would spark and scorch the floors. Or something much worse. Touch him, and reveal when death would knock on his own door.
You wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever.
With a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider. “Come in,” you said, "we can talk more inside.”
He tipped his chin and thanked you for the invitation. When he stepped through, his gaze swept about your home. Dried flowers, herbs and spices hung from every inch of ceiling by twine. Sunlight spilled from the white-painted windows, and warmed the cushions of two chairs perched near the fireplace. Bookcases stood on either side of the mantle, stretched tall enough to touch the rafters, and wide enough to cover the entire walls. At the back of the home was the kitchen and brewing space. With emerald cabinets and honied-countertops, stacked with jars and vials, scattered petals, and corked potions.
“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’ll prepare us something warm to drink.”
With a blink, he tore his gaze from the foliage and oddities. “Sure, I would appreciate it.”
When you left for the kitchen, he absently traced a hand against the chairs upholstery. Although it matched its counterpart, there were subtle differences; the legs were built taller, and arm rests crafted higher. When he took a seat, it felt made for someone of his stature—an odd thing to notice. His gaze raised to a row of books on one of the bookcase shelves. One particular book stood out among the jewel-toned backs of scarlet, green, and yellow. A simple spine of leather, softened over-time with use, and streaks of charcoal staining the edges.
Like a cool breeze, a sense of familiarity swept through him, touching the marrow of his bones. It begged the question.
“Have you always lived here by yourself?” Hiccup asked.
“You could say that.”
For a moment, you lost yourself in the fragrant pools. When was the last time you served someone tea? It may have been the day before a young man's mortal fate—the same day you couldn’t convince him to stay. Leaving you to join the collection of things he left behind. Your throat tightened around what felt like a ball of hot wax. Searing as it was, you swallowed its entirety.
Balancing the trembling porcelain, you returned to the next room and took a seat of your own.
“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I’ve…never welcomed visitors. It’s always been safer that way.” With a smile, you offered him a cup. “But between Gothi sending you and your genuine nature, I’d like to help you.”
“Thanks—and you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m the one who decided to come here unannounced. So…” Hiccup trailed off, taking a drink. He stared at the ripples with solemnity. “My father isn’t doing so well. And you know Gothi, she’s the best Seer we have on Berk. She’s done all she can, but it’s not going to be enough. When I asked if there was anything more I could do, she recommended that I seek you out.”
“I’m sorry about your father,” you said, lowering your own cup. “If Gothi wasn’t able to help him, then he must be very sick.”
“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He worked the tension of his lips between his teeth. Then pitched a sincere look your way, and said, “So you know, I’m not worried about you being a witch. If anything, I find myself pretty lucky to ask for your help. Even if that does mean I have to sell my soul for it.”
“I have some good news for you, then. I won’t be needing it. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even know what to do with yours,” you said with a laugh. “But most spells and potions require something of personal value. At least, the stronger ones do.”
Setting your tea cup aside, you hopped onto your toes. Approaching one of the bookcases, you trailed a finger against the backs of countless titles. Your search came to an end when you plucked one out; dense with musky pages, a silver lock clasped at the side, and a small wooden door carved into the cover.
Peering over your shoulder, you found your nosy company arched forward in his chair. You cleared your throat, “Don’t think about peeking over here. A witch never reveals her secrets.”
He apologized under his breath, and shifted his chin away. But like a child snuffed out of his curiosity, he wore a pout of disappointment. You smiled in amusement, and brought your attention back to the book.
You knocked against the small door in a melodic tempo. The little door sprang open, revealing a tiny ear inside. You brought your mouth close, whispering the incantation with the smallest voice you could muster. Too loud, and the door would snap shut against your lips.
An unpleasant experience you remembered from childhood.
The lock clicked open, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Page after page, you mumbled and zipped through each recipe. A couple more turns, you tapped against the right one. Breezing through the ingredients, you had all but one. Oh buttercups, you blushed.
“What is it?” Hiccup furrowed his brows at your dawning expression. “Everything all right?”
“It’s a bit hard to explain. I—I don’t have one of the ingredients any longer. But maybe you still do,” you exclaimed, taming the warmth of your cheeks. “Come with me.”
With a tilt of your head, you gestured to the kitchen. Your guest rose from his seat, following your footsteps. With instructions for him not to touch anything, you scrambled to find your proper ingredients; mugwort, newt tail, bog water, and a strand of witch hair. Tossed and muddled by mortar and pestle, you poured the mixed contents into a glass jar.
“Time for the last ingredient,” you said, picking up a kitchen knife, “hold out a finger.”
Although hesitant, he lifted a hand. “Tell me you’re not going to cut it off. I’m already down a leg, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Not at all. That would be more than what I actually need,” you answered, albeit a little too plainly. With your other hand, you touched the stone tucked in your dress pocket. “You only have to be honest when I ask you this question. If you’re not, then we’ll both hear about it.”
He nodded carefully. “Go ahead.”
“Have you ever—Oh, how should I put this?” Calming the storm of embarrassment brewing in your chest, you exhaled the words in one breath. “Have you ever committed the coupling act?”
There was a gulp. Then a twitch of his lips. Followed by a blush that bloomed from nose to ear. “What? No, I—I haven’t. What kind of question is that?”
Without a word, you sliced the tip of his finger. A hiss sizzled from his mouth when you squeezed it open. Aligning the bottle underneath, you caught the blood falling in pitter-patters. Once enough dripped into the brew, a plum of red smoke burst into the air. Both of you coughed and waved your hands around the space. When the pungent cloud faded into wisps, you corked the bubbling potion.
“A warning would’ve been nice.” He wrapped his finger in a handkerchief you provided. He went on to mutter, “Not sure why you couldn’t use your own finger.” By the delivery, the last part was meant to stay in his head.
Embarrassment washed through your veins, and painted every inch of your skin posy pink. The sight of it colored his own complexion.
“I didn’t mean to say that, honestly,” he apologized after the realization struck him. “It just sort of came out.”
“Absolutely no tact at all,” you chastised, snatching back the handkerchief. “Gods, you’re just as bad as him.”
He blinked with mystification. “Him?”
A slip of the tongue had the back hairs of your neck bristling. Magic pulsed like coils of lightning in your stomach. Crackling up through your chest, wanting to burn deeper holes in your heart. The roof groaned and creaked. Grains of wood dust fell onto your nose, dispelling the awful feeling.
“You have to go. Please, take it and leave. And don’t worry about repaying me.” Before he could argue, you forced the potion into his possession. With a clap of a hand, the wood beneath his feet shifted, motioning him out the front door.
“Wait a second.“ He wedged his prosthetic between the shutting door and frame. “Right bookcase, third shelf, leather back.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“There’s a book that belongs to my family. Ask me how I know.” The question was rhetorical, and in your bafflement, he continued. “My families crest is sealed in its spine. And the only way you could have it is if someone gave it to you. You said you never had visitors. Sorry to say, but I’m not buying it.”
“That book has nothing to do with you or your family,” you glowered, and the stone screeched and howled from your pocket. You clapped your hands against your splitting ears, with your company mimicking your movements. Over the prevailing wails, you cried, “You’re right—I lied and I’m sorry for it! It belonged to your great-grand uncle. And that’s the truth of it.”
The screeching stone fell to whispers. But the thumping of your heart continued to beat in your ears.
“Wait. My great-grand uncle?” He caught a breath in his throat. “You don’t mean—there’s no possible way you’re talking about—”
“I am.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “My only visitor before you; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.”
#hiccup x reader#httyd#hiccup httyd#hiccup horrendous haddock iii#how to train your dragon#hiccup horrendous haddock ii#reader insert#httyd fanfiction#httyd 2#x reader#fanfiction#hiccup x you#httyd book references#you bet we're going to get some flashbacks of hiccup the second#buckle up dragon riders#we're expecting some angst in this fanfic
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I'm not sure if you're still accepting requests so if you aren't, you can ignore this one!
Hiccup x reader where they've been arranged since they were teens and they try to navigate through their arrangement
Counting Coins
Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader
Words: 28,025
On one cold morning, a small Chief’s son and merchant child are arranged to be wed. Now, Hiccup Haddock is your fiance and you his. Despite your different walks of life, you find you come together quite nicely.
Tags: Gender Neutral/Intended Female, reunions, arranged marriage, half-fill, fluff, MATURE CONTENT, unedited
You furrowed your brows, curling your hands around the cloak of the master of this dock, his large form towering over your small one, thicker than you’d ever seen before and well muscled, though most muscles were hidden under his clothing, clean and darned for the occasion.
His hair was dark and his helmet large, horns seeming much too wide for his helmet, a stern man with a face hard set, yet he was gentle with you, and fond, despite your only recent meeting.
He seemed incredibly imposing, though it was a small comfort to have him on your side in front of you, acting as a shield. An in-between, a presenter for you though you knew this would be your first and last meeting.
Your white child’s robes teased the soles of your boots, fine and woven in silks you’d never had the privilege of touching before, belonging to a caliber much higher than your class. You knew after this you might not ever see those clothes again, embroidered and sewn delicately in a way you wanted to keep with ferocity.
Yet they were thin, not full enough to keep the chill from rushing up your sleeves in this early, biting morning.
Your nose was certainly sharp with cold bite, and you could feel the buzz of frost on each and every one of your limbs as if you had just been woken up for early travel, when things were dark and silent and dewy with spray.
With one eye, the other buried into rough fabrics, you examined enviously the boy before you, just as small and clad in a green tunic and a vest that was clearly new, dark and fluffy and evenly brushed out.
He must have been the same age, boots much too large for his stature. He was ruffled and slightly messy in other ways.
It looked like he wasn’t boat-steady yet, face ashy and ill.
They clearly had not come dressed to impress, donned in clothes that must have been casual, but they were fine all the same, sewn with a level of care and at quality that you’d grab for if left unattended, perhaps, on someone’s rickety ship table for feeling and keeping.
You had been told and taught carefully that the way people presented themselves communicated their intentions and the amount of respect one had for the other, especially in meetings for barter. You were not very good at telling yet what meant what, though you knew they must not like you very much at all.
Still, they didn’t want this boy. Who was he, to be brushed off onto the merchant class?
A large hand, made for crushings and trader-repelling, encouraged him forward, causing him to stumble before he came to a hard stop in front of you, twisting his hands together and looking at you with no small amount of fear and apprehension.
“Go on, Hiccup,” The king suggested, speaking in tones you were sure made the world rumble.
The man -the Chief, the king, the lord, the leader- of their community was large. Larger than the dock master, larger than anything you’d ever seen. His head would bump into the roof of your vessel, which seemed already so large to you.
He looked around with eyes that weren’t completely closed, brows not fully furrowed, still open to a degree that spoke of a lenient mind, yet his stance was critical and you knew he looked upon the others with no kind eye.
He scared you.
Behind them, their boat, a sturdy, well taken-care-of thing, sort of small yet painted in tasteful, neutral tones, bobbed and floated all the way at the end of the dock, a small bridge thrown down so that they could make a safe entrance onto this neutral moor from their vessel.
You didn’t even know his name.
All his father wanted was a safe future for him, at least, as he had said.
He had, apparently, a few very useful blacksmithing skills, or at least that was the plan, to teach him some useful trade, so as to ship him off overseas to another island or on to your boat where he wouldn’t be as much of a burden.
So his father bartered for your hand.
You sniffed, bridging up a clumsy hand, fingers grasping at your sleeve, to rub at your nose with worry and apprehension.
You were a no-good kid -in his eyes, you must have been- from the merchant class, though you’d been told you were well. He couldn’t even get someone from a place with a chiefdom.
You were sure his father was sorely disappointed. You were a migratory sort, after all. Your lot was a backstabbing kind.
You were under no delusions of grandeur and fine materials and princess-hood, you’d been told very clearly what was about to happen. The Hooligans were a rough bunch. They weren't keen on outsiders, and it had already been made clear that the point of the barter was to get something away rather than to bring someone in.
You didn’t know of any deeper meanings behind things like marriage, but you recognized a barter when you saw one; the exchange of meat for coin, bear fur for deer pelt, skull for tendon and scale and a few things extra, come up with in the time it took to get from place to place.
It was just that this time, you were the barter. No one had ever said anything, but you’d come to know it between actions and hesitant looks, apprehensive as if sharing dark secrets for a trade they weren’t certain you’d be involved, speaking of missing crew members, loot, sabotage and subterfuge, hiding things in whispers too valuable to be spared for the opposition, the way the best furs were kept in locked chest under ship floorboards, hidden from the children and yet seen by you all the same.
The same way the nice spices were held for lords and kings and chiefs all of the same kind, barred for use from the common folk, their origin a secret only a few in your migratory hodge-podge of a group knew and guarded from each other with lies and violence and suspicious eyes, searched for on single-man boats by lantern light far away from the prying gazes of your other kinsmen.
You were the ‘other,’ and it was that that told you that this time, you were the barter. The sacrificial lamb. You were old enough to understand that, at four winters old.
You wished you were on this dock, watching one of the others depart in a small boat instead of nearly alone in the cold and mist, something that acted as more of an obstruction than the preclude to a mystery or a passive tool, a plain cloak to drift through instead of a phenomena that acted as a cage around an arena, keeping everything else invisible to your eye except for the people in front of you.
You shivered.
The small boy stumbled forwards again, very reluctantly, leaning back as if he meant to stumble back, searching for a ways away.
His eyes were incredibly wide, trained on you the whole time as his father turned his attention away, muttering in low, important tones with the dock master.
“Hi,” The small boy tried shily. He looked very much as if he was about to cry, which did you no favors, emotion building at the corner of your lids.
“...Hi,” You whispered back, much quieter, creeping slightly further behind the dockmaster, who didn’t spare you much but a vaguely concerned glance, large, black brows furrowing as you tried to bury yourself in front of his puffy fur cloak and behind one large, trousered leg.
You should introduce yourself. You weren’t sure what he wanted, but you knew the still folk weren’t very fond of what you did. Would do.
“We… travel,” You mumbled clumsily, “A lot.”
The boy furrowed his brows, deterred, looking back to his father with an unsure, wobbly frown, though the large man paid him no mind.
He looked as if he would cry even more now, especially at the idea that he might be ousted, if what he knew of the situation went that far. With petty malice, you hoped they kicked him out from his home, yet he didn’t want him to be sent away for tiny things with your strange folk, so then maybe he would not want to come with you at all.
Good.
You sniffed then, just blinking, determined, giving him a defiant look even as you scooted further behind the dock master, tiny, clenched hands shivering.
The boy was trying his darndest to hold it in, fists clenched, eyes watery.
Your own expression was wobbly, but you were determined, face tilted slightly downwards with your refusal and will to stay silent.
There wasn’t so much a negotiation as a confirmation, a presentation of goods yet deep, silent, rumbled conversation went on for what seemed like ever.
If he cried, things would certainly be over. It had to be him. You willed that he do it first.
Time felt like more time, long and drawn and moments felt like eternities, forcing you to take in each and every bit that had been long drawn out. Something in the wind must have made it so.
You didn’t like it. Land made you unsteady, with so many things and legends and magic and still age, unflowing and stationary in all the ways your home was not.
It was new territory in a way that made you uneasy.
Eventually, your determined attention was brought away and your hands hid back into the confines of coated fur.
You drifted.
Granules of wood, the large cracks beneath your feet, old, dark, deepish gray. The swirling, moving water under your feet, bobbing, pulling, opaque, foamed, murky. The thin brush of fur tickly at your feet, the wind smoothing by your neck. Something tantalizing, all-consuming yet somewhat faint drawing you forwards.
You closed your eyes, body traveling to follow the scent, tilting forwards. It was something sweet and smooth and altogether tempting, sort of milky and dark.
You didn’t think scents could leave trails, but this, too you, was so strong.
You opened your eyes with a flutter to find that the boy across had done something in a much similar manner. You both had sniffed the air.
You looked at him with curious, vying eyes. It seemed as if you two had something in common after all.
You let go of the dockmaster’s cloak, sure not to let your hands shake, though you didn’t yet step free of his shadow, still close enough to feel tufts from his ensemble brush across your cheek.
You’d heard from some of the others of the dragons lurking in the mist and smog, deep in the wilds. If you followed the scent, however, you’d surely be fine. You were sure there was nothing strong enough to blow it away, not here and now when everything was quiet and still, even absent of the usual chirping of bugs and smaller such things.
You weren’t as familiar with land, most of your life spent on Boat. Though should the worst things come to worst, you’d follow the moss and whispers of fairies and any brooke you could find until you were back on your home boat, floating along the docks, tied secure and stationed by many others of your ilk. Like in the stories. Or maybe you’d follow the sound of rumbling voices, deep and sound, until you were once again above the water.
You sobbed, where you’d been thrown back, your arms stinging with raw scrapes and soreness, back stiff with the fallen feel of many rocks and a burn that spoke of peeled skin, screaming in a way that rang, gripping tightly onto fabric, though whether it was yours or his you couldn’t tell.
His nails in your arms, punching through fabric, said many things as you gripped each other tightly, half curled in on each other, tears and snot streaming furiously down his face and yours, told of and shared through the drag of his crying voice and the thickness of his frantic panting.
Thin, many, many teeth- staring into a large maw, thick mucus spraying, face split monstrously by three jaws and a grotesque, dripping tongue, green and deep in a sparsely wooded craig area. Two more visible behind.
You choked out another wet cry as the monstrous creature screamed, it’s aggressive voice causing you to wail louder. It had lured you.
You were good as dead.
You hated chocolate.
The scene -the reason why- as you remembered it, not that you let yourself, was cold and misty and told in flashes, washed with distance and a sense of levity only the most severe memories ever received.
A rushing fist, a quick yank, It was something you recalled mostly on cold nights under heavy blankets.
It hadn’t been too long ago.
Your face screwed up at the open box below, it’s gifter already busy off rifling for other things.
It was your second meeting at another dock, a half-way point, not that you had a still place to have a way from.
There was a forge here. His intent was to show off how he was faring in the forge, most likely -he said how he had something and he must show it to you in a forge.
It was his scene now, perhaps,and he was trying to impress by telling of how he was learning. By some way the Snaptrapper attack had had a weird effect on his brain.
You turned away from the small, open box in multiple small steps, wrapped and pulled open for you clumsily by the same boyish hands that offered them to you. Maybe you could sell it later -you couldn’t possibly give it away, not when it was something so valuable- yet you couldn’t eat it either, a precious thing you yearned to keep yet sent fear prickling down your spine.
Below you, who you looked down on from your high position on your mount was your future fiance -or current, you hadn’t yet gotten enough details to understand- who looked mini from your perch.
It was almost silly how he hung over the side of the open chest, the top half of his body hanging down into the barrel of it as he rifled around, the one thing he was looking for skidding across the bottom as he grabbed for it, scratching hand sounds muffled to your ears along with the sounds knocking against wooden walls.
You wrung your hands nervously, fingers and palms getting caught on newly cleaned sleeves, one of your older clothes pieces.
Certainly you’d never seen that nice robe ever again. It was never meant to be kept, but you’d wanted to know what there was to do with it, now that it was ripped and mud-dirtied and mussed, if it had been made to sell in some form as it had been taken away from you.
You climbed down from the height, sitting down on the chair and stretching your legs towards the stone floor of the foreign forge with a light strained noise made in the back of your throat, hands placed carefully flat, fingers together against the wood of the chair behind you.
You reached out your booted toes, stretching your legs delicately until you felt they were stretched as far as they could go, until the drop was much less high than it was before, a distance you found to be much more manageable for you to drop down.
You patted the bottoms of your boots lightly on the floor as you settled as if to clear the dust from them, one after the other, lifting your knees up a respectable height before moving them slowly back down, though it was with not enough force to do more than make a quiet pat.
You used your hands to brush off the leg-covering length of your tunic, sort of scratchy and worn and holey by one of the sleeves, just the way you’d been taught and shown.
You looked back up carefully, brows furrowed upwards with slight worry to meet a pair of large, intent eyes, the sort you likened to a big pool of water but green and murky as your to-be husband held out a small knife by the handle with clumsy child’s hands.
“It’s for you,” His voice wobbled as he said it, light with hope and nerves.
You stared at it for a long, long moment, unsure of what to do, hand half stretched out, hovering above it. Were you supposed to pick it up?
The blade was sort of triangle shaped, wobbly and wrenched and very, very dented along the side, flat ends of the blade offset in some places where hammer-sized circles lay flat at slightly the wrong angle like lumps on the side of the face of a young shiphand.
He had found you the biggest chest to bring it in, even if it’s contents were small. He’d said so, which was very flattering.
“It’s cool,” He insisted, voice wavering with nerves.
He thought it was cool
He looked at you intently.
He… wanted to make you happy
You supposed it was your job to make him happy too, and to make him happy, his gifts would have to make you happy. So perhaps you would. Would tell him he was doing a good job.
But how were you supposed to receive gifts? No one had ever told you that before.
Though you’d learned much first and second hand, especially for your age on your boat, if words were also a part of trade, you’d not yet been versed. Not truly.
“Okay,” You picked it up unsurely with pinched fingers, holding it by one dented blade end, “Thank you. I like it a lot.”
You were careful to speak nice, in your bartering voice, separate from your normal seafaring drawl.
The boy seemed to preen at that, putting his hand by his chest slightly and giving you a grin so wide he had to be faking some of it. Not his enthusiasm, but in his efforts to communicate it, to make his joy seem super clear to you.
You said it to yourself in guesses in your mind, though you felt there was a certain truth to it as it was; there was a level of performance in success.
You offered him a tiny smile back, holding the small knife close to your chest with both your hands by its equally uneven handle, blade part pointed down.
With your troope you traveled, past and through fjords with waters a beautiful, clear turquoise that seemed to speak deep into your soul, full enough to carry your boat yet shallow enough that you were sure you could stand at the bottom. Fresh enough to make you wonder what sailors needed stories of sirens for, when the water was entrancing and glittering enough to pull you in all on its own.
Mountains lined by blankets and blankets of greenery, so full and lush it’s color seemed nearly turquoise, saturated and unspotted to a fantastical degree.
You’d passed by a beach with sand the color of warm, red rust, a deep maroon you wished to scoop up and bottle and hold dear to you for the rest of your lifetime.
Yet, perhaps its ephemeral nature was what made it all the more valuable, more novel as it was passed from you to another, a fractured experience, the only whole copy laying in your memory, precious and aged as the finest of wines.
Of course you passed the small bottle, as you had to, stopped with a small cork, into the hands of another, who stood anxiously on the dock in front.
When you’d grabbed his hand earlier, he’d seemed to deflate with relief.
He loosened even more, then.
Your feet shuffled hollowly against the damp wood below. This dock might need repairing soon, decking wearing and decaying, crusted in parts with sour fish and clinging barnacles along what parts of the poles you could see through cracks.
“I’ve gotten this for you,” You said, adjusting your cloaked poncho with one hand, tattered and tasseled and wrapped around your shoulders, held together by dirty stitches.
Beneath that you wore slightly nicer clothes, though still darned by the hardships of your travels, much lighter than you would have preferred had you been given the resources to prepare yourself for your next meeting.
“Thank you,” His voice was still light, then. It crackled with the idea that it might yet grow deeper, though you hadn’t high hopes.
The son of the Chief took the vial from your hands. Twelve winters you’d lived, and thirteen had he. You were younger than him yet much wiser.
The exchange of gifts was a common thing between the two of you, since you had been engaged all those years ago, though you’d never been away for so long, so some uncertainty was to be expected.
A whole half of a season of the two that existed in the Norse calendar.
Your to-be husband’s peoples had settled closer in location to the Gaelic and Romans than their original homeland. You were sure they’d long lost knowledge of where they’d come from, and whether there was land or life outside of the archipelago, which was just as well.
When younger, you visited frequently, every month, every few weeks. All meetings arranged, atmosphere heady and thick with tense expectation, and yet you could tell he grew fond of you all the same. It was less often now, the meeting- but most of the knowing you shared still stayed, albeit you were much more distant now.
So, you’d met plenty, yet your tie kept you stuck closer to the archipelago.
With the synchronized movements of two teens who knew, you both grabbed hands, one more nervous than the other.
Without speaking, you walked hand-in-hand across the docks and towards the precarious, which lead to the cliffs cradling your to-be’s bustling wen in its embrace, imposing ramps held up by thick timbre and built outwards rather than carved in.
The docks were reasonably crowded, though the patrons there lie more in uniform than not, in a typical, respectful fashion.
You noticed the way the others of your age and not left out the two of you, you more by nature and expectation as an outsider, an individual of distrust and Hiccup as something else you weren’t privy to, perhaps in part because of your association.
They snickered at him like the chittering of wily nymphs in wide, foggy mists; a thin boy with straw hair, long at the ends, top hidden by a shallow helmet. Another boy, thicker with large elbows and a square, slightly displaced jaw.
You had been here too often not to notice.
Your fiance- he looked at you as if you were holy, light reflecting off of his eyes, off the pupils and the neutral green iris in a way that made them look as if they glittered just as they had before your most recent departure from the Archipelago.
He looked at you with wonder as well, which was perhaps your fault; filling his head with tales of waves larger than Berk was tall and rumbles in the sea of things that left everyone on board still, quiet and unmoving as you waited for ancient things to pass and return to slumber.
You’d spent hours explaining the difference between beautiful danger and danger-like beauty, how so many mystical things could be lost in something as uniform as the ocean. True magic existed only after long periods of wait.
“Well…”
Your fiance was proud to share his own lively exploits, a life of action and battle and escape from ferocious beasts, blood feuds and quickly made inventions. You were unfamiliar with land and he fed off that, speaking and embellishing with the hopes to tell you something that you might find impressive, hoping that might somehow reflect back on him.
It was obvious by his actions- the way he postured and when he would and wouldn’t look you in the eye, caring in a way you were mystified by, the origin of such affection alien to you yet welcomed all the same even in spite of its impropriety.
He was less nauseated by the waters now and he spent more time aboard ships as a watcher, learner and sometimes helper, a privilege not many were afforded, the last part going unsaid as you were sure any son of a shiphand would have been long since used to the seas.
That was of the most minor importance, however. You were never too old to earn your sea legs. His efforts, instructed or not, were still very much appreciated.
You too would perform well by both your own want and volition.
You chose to bump his shoulder with your own as you slowed, closer now to the village than the docks.
Closeness was expected from an engaged couple.
You were set by the waving grass near the upper cliffs, not so close to the edge as to merit worry over crumbling rock yet not so far that the seas just below were obscured to you.
A short row of trees lined your way to the village kingdom, a thin, sparse mimicry of the forest beyond the bridge on the other side of the island, no doubt soon to be cut down and used for woodstock.
A rock protruded from the ground next to another just by it, both in a way that put you by the sea, closer to the cliff’s edge than away towards the treeline as you leaned against it.
Your fiance did the same.
Hiccup was nervous again.
As you settled, you eyed a pouch by his hip, the majority of it concealed by the fur of his coat yet spotted by you all the same as you made your way up the dock ramps.
You’d expected it, or at least something of a similar sort.
You’d come with a purpose, your visit in part an inspection.
The others, they would swarm the markets and try to leech off slain dragon skin and hide and scale. You had another matter, a pointed one, one that you were very well expected to tend to with haste and heavy judgment.
This was far from the aimless sort of company shared by the you from months ago, indulged in by your fiance. Your life was a product you had to sell, you were pointedly aware, yet only one part of the agreed upon exchange.
Of course, if he was to one day join you as a craftsman on the water, it was of the utmost importance that you make sure he could, in fact, make things.
“I’ve-I’ve got something,” Hiccup started hesitantly, shoulders hunched.
He was told to show and present it to you- He must have been, because his demeanor was tamed, schooled yet restless as if he expected a test by which he was afraid he might be found lacking.
It was obvious earlier by the twitchiness of his hands and the sweat beading on his clenched palms as he grabbed onto your own. It was obvious now in the way he still wouldn’t look you in the eye.
“You do?” You asked, feigning surprise and a careless indifference. It was supposed to convey comfort and to lessen the pressure of expectation.
“You can keep it, if you want- I-” Hiccup tried, appealing to you the best he could before cutting himself off, pulling open the pouch and, very carefully, by the blade this time, handing you the shining handle of a sharp knife.
You were reminded sharply yet not unexpectedly of a time when you were kids and he handed you something of a similar nature, small and dull and bent out of shape.
It was nostalgic.
You looked down, grabbing it carefully, rubbing over the only unmarred -uncarved, you should say- bits of the knife with a soft thumb, feeling nothing but round surface.
It appeared he was a good craftsman, the hand smooth and varnished, notches and designs carved into both the wooden handle and the blade. The woodwork was of the most importance. His access to a forge would be naught overseas.
What interested you the most were his mistakes. Your hands were well trained, and through experience and teaching, you’d learned it was the smallest of things that could make or break a sale.
If there were too many resources expended on things of lowest quality, it would mean space lost bringing trade from one place to another. These were things that needed to be accounted for to the very last detail when you were traveling on a ship as packed as yours for so far a distance. If they were not, then you were better off dead than above the waves.
There was still a slight number of scratches and bumps in places like corners and on the handle, smudged by soot in the shape of fingerprints that told of inexperience and a slightly clumsy, novice hand, and yet his progress spoke more- he was average, for his age. Unpracticed in the art yet familiar with the semantics, skills more geared towards practicalities than fancy.
You could not glean the full scope of his abilities from just a knife, that was true, but this was good enough.
It would serve you and everyone else just fine. In fact, it was much nicer than anything you’d been allowed to touch in a while.
You glanced back up at him without lifting your head.
Hiccup’s nerves seemed to grow more as he waited for your response, hands wringing, expression pinched as if he was about to build up a sweat, sooted hair seeming to wilt with him.
The poor boy was sweating.
You stood straight, letting the knife fall to your side, hooking it onto your belt as you reached for his hand.
He seemed to relax.
“It’s nice,” You said simply, yet with an abundance of appreciation.
Yet you didn’t relax, as your part wasn’t yet over. This was something you couldn’t sugarcoat, as it came with a catch. Many catches, for him. Inevitable ones, negotiations having long since been made on his behalf, not many having to do with accommodations.
How to bring forth the topic, though, was the question.
“Are there any things to know? Things I… should know?” Hiccup shuffled his boot against the dirt, “About trust and… And other things?”
Hiccup spoke haltingly, as if he’d realized he’d messed up very quickly and yet had been too far along his thoughts to stop at any appropriate time.
You hummed questioningly, though you were certain; It seems your intrepid fiance had beaten you to the punch. You chose to take no offense.
He had been well prepared for this conversation, it seemed. Not in the ways that would make life easier for him, but in the ways you supposed his father would find relevant.
“I mean… Responsibilities?”
“Trust isn’t important beyond what’s needed to be able to make a trade,” You shrugged, “The only responsibility you’d have are the ones involving your goods. There is no home besides the one you make over the sea.”
Your. Not our. The sharing of assets was something you were not yet decided on or old enough to try, but one day you supposed it would be a must.
“No treaties. No Vikings. No ties. Just travel,” You murmured, placing both of your hands over his, “You’re my only tie.”
“Honesty?” He said, referring to the word in a way that, for the second time, made you think he’d been over this with someone else before, face tilted and eyes wide in a way that conveyed insecurity in the face of danger, “I heard… the others, from your group- they’re going to try and scam some of the villagers out of their coin?”
That certainly must have come from his own words and his own heart.
You still did not take offense.
You pulled your hands slowly back to yourself as you leaned back and pondered, leaving shaking, softer knuckles behind.
The other villagers here were very clearly disgruntled at having to honor the dishonorable. It would be upsetting for him to know that one day he might have to face the same scorn, regardless of whether or not he was truly a liar.
Yours was not at all the fighting sort, however you were silver in other ways, unlike the merchants they typically chose and cherrypicked and allowed passage onto their shores.
You were sure his clansmen already believed him to be so. He was bright and flighty and still and they were not kind. Neither were your folk, in many other ways. Both, you knew, were cautious of each other, your ilk more proactive with words, wielding phrases that bit and knives to stomachs.
You understood him, still as the wind brushed past you from the sea, tangy with the smell of salt, reminding your tongue of the taste of it as it went breezing through and past your poncho.
There was safety in it. A desire to protect oneself from the perceived. From the outside. It was just that your inside was much smaller. It forced you to look outwards more often than not, and perhaps that was what intimidated Hiccup so much.
However, If Stoick the Vast believed being on a boat was safer than being on Berk, he was wrong. Or perhaps right, but only in the most bare sense. If he kept to himself, his son should be fine. Even if you didn’t do the same, holding deep trade secrets or vyied-after product.
People came and went quickly.
It was a quick and daring life, not always long if you were on the front lines, but he’d live a long while, well into old age at least as his father most likely intended.
“It’s nothing I have to do with… but it’s something I will have to do one day,” You said bluntly, yet your voice was still soft, “Maybe.”
There was no shake to his voice, though you could hear caution, “Will I have to?”
You murmured sounds nonsensically into the air, raising a skeptical brow, feeling the sharp, cold, flat surface of a rock press against your backside as you leaned further back.
That seemed to be enough of an answer for him.
“I guess I’ll have to man up, huh?”
You recalled a child’s wandering, more whispers of him not being man enough to drop the fool you were, rashly and rowdily and suddenly. It would be quite easy to be rid of you, though you didn’t care much at all what he did, just so long as you could be honest by the trade.
“You’ll be a craftsman. That’s plenty man enough- very useful, the most over the sea,” You were familiar with his propensity to get sick over the water, the one he’d had when you were young kids that made fishing nigh impossible and travel incredibly difficult. You hoped he’d grown out of that, despite his assuring words.
You nodded to yourself unsurely, “That’s the finest advice I can give you now.”
By the twisting laws of word, structure and sense you could say it wasn’t necessarily advice. It didn’t make much sense for it to be.
There was better advice out in the world. The kind that inspired the innovative, the kind that asked the bright minded to twist convention and birthed new processes and brought blessings into the world. He was probably better off taking that instead.
You told him so.
“All you’ll need to know to do with a knife is stab, anyhow. Some skinning, I suppose. How to gut a fish,” You tilted your head to the side, eyes wandering slightly, irises briefly bobbing towards a cawing sea bird, brave to be out in reptilian-infested skies, though you knew the day was safe. Mostly, “Guard your coin, sleep tight.”
“Coin?” Hiccup asked, sitting up straighter.
You gazed back at him plainly, giving him a simple nod.
Wealth came and went. You learned to hide it, guard it preciously.
Another thing you told him. The first part, anyhow. The second you kept to yourself. You’d done enough frightening off recently.
“This is- my own thing, for you, then,” Hiccup suggested, rifling again in that small pouch of his, grasping in a way that poked against the sides of fabric walls, grasping frustratedly for something it took him much too long to touch, his face tilted down with a mildly disgruntled expression on his face.
He pulled first something that glinted and went back in for something else, pinching fabric and dropping things back into the pouch when he meant not to, fingernails too blunt to get a good grip.
It was a few moments longer and a few light, frustrated grunts from him, until you had been bestowed upon something small and hand-warmed and cool in what you could feel in a way you likened to patches, off-putting slightly yet not unwelcome to you.
You rolled it from your palm to a place pinched between your fingers with a smooth if not uncomfortable and odd-looking action, too familiar with the act of handling coins despite their fleeting nature.
There was a scratch in the corner, though despite that the coin was clean to an average degree and smooth on one side in a way that made you think someone had spent a long time rubbing at its face with their thumb, perhaps, or another finger.
It was dull with the oils from the hand, yet it wasn’t so thick, mostly dull in places hard to reach, like the corners where runes had been largely and blocking inscribed, telling you it had been a while since it had left the hands of the person that had done the rubbing and it had been cleaned at least once.
You’d stopped paying attention to your surroundings, slightly craning your neck down and bringing your hand up to look closer at the coin in a way that felt uncharacteristic as your attentions were brought to other things, your calm demeanor returning you back to an even calmer state.
Already his hands were lifted, hovering by your neck in a way that felt heavy, moving with jerky hesitance.
His clenched fingers brushed past your ear in a way that didn’t touch but made you sense, heat passing lesser heat as he dropped a thick, wide twine cord down the rest of the way to your shoulders, it pulling slightly taut against the back of your neck and it was pulled forwards by the light weight near the front of it.
You looked down in a way that made your chin touch your neck and the back of your nap stretch, eyes straining down.
There, by your chest lay a smaller pouch -one where he was probably supposed to hold the coin, yet didn’t in a fashion that was very typical for a boy from your peer group- one he hung around your neck.
“For the advice,” Hiccup suggested awkwardly.
You had stood there in puzzled silence for a while.
Eventually, you reached a time to part or leave, just briefly, temporarily separating perhaps as you made your way off, back towards civilization.
First, though, you looked towards your to-be husband.
He’d leaned closer just a moment before, and now he seemed hesitant, for obvious reasons.
The one time you had seen a rodent entrapped by a snare, suffocating and infected, neck bloating in a way that said it had been left out, injured, for days? It was a miracle it had survived so long, twitching and antsy and suffering- it was also inedible.
Hiccup looked like that.
Lips pursed slightly, not in a noutwards manner, more resembling a line, thought his intentions were clear, face red as if he’d been holding his breath for a while -he had been- eyes twitching even as they remained lidded, stressed like a string about to snap.
-Of course, you’d done nothing of the sort before. You would do nothing improper. Nothing to jeopardize your deal. Not when it’d done so much- not yet, but.
It would go against a given, unspoken contract, the expectation things proceeded slowly, as they should in a way that was socially appropriate for teens your age. Before, it had. But maybe not… Now.
You’d not have much time left, though you were too… Dazed, perhaps. Not in a rush, carefully considering everything and nothing in the few long yet away-slipping seconds it took for you to make your decision.
His twitching eyes were slowly opening, pupils darting with slight humiliation and hesitance, perhaps, hoping you hadn’t noticed somehow.
You nearly had the desire to pretend you hadn’t- to have mercy on him.
You took pity on him and moved closer. You would do nothing more than this.
A press on the cheek. Then something simple. A peck on the lips.
For the coin, You decided.
Later, you could explain what went on- the ins and outs and the other complicated social politics involving your merchants and the sort of ins and outs he’d need to be living with them. You did. You had to.
Even later in the day, after a brief stint on the water with the fishermen, you’d witness your first dragon raid. Your fiance seemed to be a bit too into the violence. That was fine.
He was a Viking- and as such, you decided it was expected.
Once again you found yourself on Berk’s docks.
After long travels and a few years, you’d reentered the Archipelago to rumors of a mighty dragon tamer and a blossoming romance, which seemed to indicate for you some trouble brewing on the horizon, luring you back towards Berk.
The last you heard, he’d found another, the news broken by an envoy. Though you didn't particularly hold faith in those heavy words, you still listened, and waited for more. At a gainly pace, you’d made your way across the oceans, stopping appropriately when trade dictated. However, a budding curiosity, unstifled, grew in your chest.
You’d seen a desert though you’d had not enough time to make the Great Journey across to the other side, where spices and silks were in more abundance and half your caravan had been replaced with another sort as some grew too old to do anything but settle, others splitting off to join other groups and travel new routes.
They had been replaced all at once after a long period of dwindling by a particularly rough band of folks, wielding knives with blades skillfully curved as a snake moving through sand.
Most were from way down south, ones who had chosen to migrate away from their cities, in part perhaps due to some terrible, inescapable treachery. There were some from the islands around the archipelago, too. You were wary of them, though their kind was not a new one to you, no different from the worst of the few short-lasting you’d grown up with and had known before.
You had returned from your travels with dangling gold bangles and coins attached to skirts locked away in a trunk seep in the ship for the wily patrons on Knaff or the auctioneers in the small Ice fortress up by the Northlands, something to exchange for their colorful furs which would surely be well received by the Romans.
Another trip by the main continent blessed you with more colorful clothes and fabrics and silks and, with the excess of inventory and the accidental destruction and loss of a great number of old, darned clothes over your travels, your bunch was able to donn nicer clothes, a league of distance from the tattered grays and the muddy, green-ish sand color you were used to.
The traumatizing child incident still dictated that you hated chocolate, or whatever sweet could be made up in its likeness, but you’d brought back something similar anyways.
You hoped that a few of the Northmen would stay, settling for their homeland and satisfied by the bragging rights bestowed upon them by their long journey and their trade, now that they’d had it up to their heads and shriveled hearts in travel and experience. Not that that experience tended to stick, as you and your more sane shipmates mumbled back and forth to each other. Some people were too hard-headed to truly take in any lessons or worldly knowledge.
You loathed that they were able to share in your joy and luck, also dressed in fabrics of multiple colors.
You also hoped they would not cause some sort of accidental betrayal on your part as they swindled and stole, so that your standing with your fiance would not be sabotaged nor your promised exchange mishandled somehow in any way worse than it already had been, forcing you to shed allegiances where they mustn’t be shed
You would have to keep an eye on them if not warned the inhabitants of Berk off all of them altogether.
As you’d docked, you’d seen… Dragons. You tried not to show you apprehensiveness, stepping out with surety as the locals around you moved casually, talking freely and without that usual, aggressive weight.
Brightly colored tails curled and lashed as large bodies crept just out of view, colorful spots flapping through the sky like carefree birds. The atmosphere here was so much lighter in a way that must have run as deep as Berk’s culture and altered way of life. You could feel it.
The docks were bustling this time, villagers moving freely along the wide dock floor, clearly newly repaired and well taken care of, receiving you better than they ever had before. The new goods probably helped some, too. You’d never come to Berk with such a boon before.
You hoped your fiance hadn’t put in a good word for you. It would be a shame if it all went to waste, ruining his credibility as you were sure your new group’s half would ruin yours.
You heard the names of a Sven, a Mjolnir, an Agnarr, a Thora all before you’d seen him.
You weren’t sure what you expected. Would he be taller, more built so as to match his reputation, or would it proceed him? It ended up being neither.
Rays beat down on your covered shoulders in a way that made the skin just above flesh feel like a hot rock.
The sun was warm and heady in a pressing manner, though not incredibly so, not the way it was, exhausting and persistently dry as it was further down south, nor as it was over the oceans, on days you feared you’d run out of fresh water before you could cool and boil a new batch of buckets.
It took a moment, but through the crowd, as your shipmates siphoned out in pairs of twos with chests and sly words, you spotted him.
Two large, heavy shoulders reaching a few heads above his own parted to reveal Hiccup.
Immediately, to you, the change in dynamic was obvious, like some switch being pressed, flicked and another mechanism- a snare trap, perhaps, or something simpler- flung.
Your intrepid fiance now seemed to embody the title completely, adapting to his position as the Hope and Heir- at least, as you said it.
You presumed that, with his success, after this moment, you would no longer be expected to sweep him away and save him from this island. It seemed, in the most metaphorical sense, as if he might be the one doing all the sweeping from now on.
He was still quite skinny, though a measure taller than he’d been when you’d last seen him. However, he seemed a great deal more confident in ways you couldn’t describe, not that he wasn’t confident before, but this sort seemed to increase his presence in a way you were sure his father approved of.
You hoped he’d lost none of his sarcasm, his silver tongue, the propensity to exchange sharp words in jest with others in a way you’d come to associate with the flavor of smoke and steel in the air, in a way you’d spent your time here looking in on, when it happened, though none it ever seemed to occur while two of you alone.
He came up to you quickly, not minding the murmuring of the crowd at all, and you’d taken a step forwards to join him in greeting before realizing he was coming forwards perhaps a tad too fast given what was appropriate. By then, you’d half- fed into the urge to step back.
In one moment, you’d been struck with indecision, which was jarring on its own, stuck deciding where you wanted to focus your redistributed weight. In the next, he…
He’d hooked his arms under yours, hands coming to clutch quickly at your back and waist as he pulled you clumsily closer.
In a move that was sudden and surprising to you, brought your faces together, a clumsy jab of teeth wrought with joyful emotion.
He looked appreciative, though you couldn’t pin why. Was it the quirked smile pulling at his cheeks? The careful, worried tilt of his brows or the appearance of two slightly gapped -though not so distant as they had been before when you were younger- teeth that had told you so?
It startled you, not a feeling borne out of fear, distaste or any other particularly tangible and immediately describable emotion, moreso it was a feeling sprouting quickly out of the momentary rudeness of his actions and the lack of time you’d had to think or mull.
Once you parted, you could not help but lean back into his arms slightly, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, firmly but without any intense grip.
You looked at his face.
You had no clue where his enthusiasm had come from.
“I heard rumors you’d moved on,” You said, finally. It had taken you a moment to figure out what to say, as tiny dragon’s claws skittered across the docks behind you, casual as a fowl’s.
You resisted the urge to look, continuing to examine your fiance’s face.
Dragons were fewer and farther between the further you got from the Archipelago. It was something to look at, surely, when you’d less of other things to focus on.
“Who said that?” Worry broke through his expression like the hull of a ship through a stormy wave.
“I’m not sure. I only hear what’s been passed. Ear to ear and the like,” You hummed, sort of mumbling as you pulled back a bit and examined the spring and peg that seemed to have replaced his left foot, “Is it true?”
“No,” Hiccup said firmly, brows furrowed, voice concerned and sort of hurt, “No, of course not.”
You raised your brow.
You supposed it really could have been a rumor, though still you wondered what could have been said that had spiraled so quickly, suddenly and largely.
Dragon taming seemed an impossible feat, one that the people outside were trying to make sense of. In the meantime, not many were brave enough to venture up to Berk’s shores. It was so fantastical a claim it seemed a story, and so it wasn’t a far stretch to assume the travelers had taken it that way and treated it as such, molding the rumors to their own liking, more than news already tended to be stretched and bent as it passed from ear to ear.
You weren’t sure if you were glad that you had come so quickly to check.
If you hadn’t, you were sure your engagement would have been all for naught, unless your fiance decided to pursue you on dragonback.
Your eyes were drawn briefly to some fighting on the docks, a dry look from you aimed towards them.
A wily man with a curled, thin mustache and a long beard who you knew likened himself to a genius -a wise man well traveled- but was actually a foul, hunch-backed man was arguing with a local man thrice his size, built like a fortress with flowing blonde hair and a beard that, though not as long as your groupmates', was five times as wide.
You were sure it would soon get physical.
You sighed. It was better you differentiated yourselves from them now, rather than let it lie and suffer the associated consequences later.
“Yes, well, before we get into the meat of things-” You sighed, “I bring a warning- some of the others in my troop-...”
You heard snickering from a pair of what must have been twins, hair the same shade of pale, sandy blonde, though one had their hair knotted in two brains while the other had slightly broader shoulders under a manure-colored vest and thicker helmet horns.
Their shoulders were bouncing with malicious glee, their enthusiasm feeding into the upset.
You hadn’t noticed them behind at first, too taken by your fiance’s sudden appearance, however it seemed there had been a procession.
There was a small group of Vikings about your age standing behind, where Hiccup had been before. The common emotion among the younger Viking folk seemed to be slight skepticism and mild shock, most intensely from a stocky boy with a missing tooth, closely followed by a thin blonde with a sharp eye, probably displeased by your careless display of affection. Yet, even among those two, most of their attention was focused on the budding fight a few steps aside.
You thought that you could maybe recognize one, though it was fleeting and could very well have been a delusion, an easy mistake. Doppelgangers were common, easy to find wherever you went, each face used and reused over plains and mountains and sprawling countries.
You relaxed, arms still somewhat entangled with Hiccup’s, welcoming the embrace, which seemed to make your fiance joyful yet still as you two continued to break past the distant boundaries of your relationship.
“They’ll… Handle it.” Hiccup stated surely, sort of gesturing back to his ungainly posse with one hand, the space it left behind cool and empty over crumpled and wrinkled fabric.
“Ah…” You said, tongue heavy. You were slightly aware of your own accent, heavy and altered and affected by words exchanged over years spent speaking other languages and the stunting of your Norse vocabulary. It was tinted also by the development of your own special dialect after being stuck in close quarters with others who tended not to call the same language their own, “I suppose I must be too late…”
Hiccup sighed back, eyes darting to the side in a way you took as a hint, suggesting through signals that you abandon his small retinue while you still could.
You two used the distraction to your advantage, though you still had a few things you wished to ask, now that some of your more important concerns had been settled.
Would dragon scales make fine jewelry? How had their economy fared, and what would, say, that big, busty man in the large hat pay for a nice new coat?
You hadn’t yet seen his steed or heard mention of it just yet, a mount of scales black as night and a blast with all the violence of lightning and many times the ferociousness of a storm.
You had not yet asked about the future, sure that you would need to give him time for things to settle, though you were acutely aware of what sort of bearing all of this would have on yours.
You stood with him on the cliffs up by the spire that housed the great, grand hall embedded into the mountain and in your travels.
You would be sticking close to the archipelago now on, you decided, same as you did when you were young and learning more about your new husband-to-be, especially as you reached the agreed upon age to marry.
Technically, as it was now, you could marry at any time. You’d seen people your age getting wed. However, no one had wanted to rush into things so fast, and now was more the time to watch and wait. It wouldn’t do you well to act in haste, not when things were so precarious.
Your tongue felt at an empty socket in your mouth where one of your teeth had been removed by a violent encounter with a rock as you’d stumbled your way upwards.
Perhaps noticing your plight, Hiccup asked, “Are you alright?”
“...Are you appalled?” You rolled your eyes, speaking in turn, lazily tracing the dimming sunlight with half-closed eyes, feeling quite satisfied with a long day well spent.
You displayed your socket past a barely open mouth before closing it, the point of your action not any more to show than to indicate.
You shifted your hands, pressed flat against a rock just behind you, one you'd chosen quite tiredly to lean against and Hiccup had as well, the two of you enjoying the stored heat it radiated into the cooling air.
You could tell Hiccup nearly did the same, eyes almost mirroring yours.
“It’s charming,” he said, throwing your own words back at you, from earlier in the day, when he’d been dragging a snappish terror along by the prosthetic, its empty gums squishing impishly against the wood and rope on its upper half.
You huffed again and adjusted the cloak draped elegantly across your shoulders by the lapel, a slightly dusty deep, deep blue, nearly black, which shifted in the light like secondhand velvet, before letting your hand fall back again.
You had had a day of simple pleasures. Just Hiccup and you.
His reputation did you wonders. Everyone knew you were engaged, after all. But you didn’t care about that, though it was helpful navigating your way through the village during the short time the two of you had been separated, split by the crowds.
“Merchants can be ferocious too,” You said, voice somewhat loopy with content pleasure.
“Are you sure? There’s one,” Hiccup frowned, “He’s got the most unbearable stories…”
“That’s Johann, then,” You hummed, feeling the heat from his arm also, a close distance away, near enough to feel the heavy from his skin yet far enough not to touch, fingers both pressed flat against rock and separated by a hair.
Hiccup looked at you, brows raised with easy surprise, “You know him?”
“Johann does some dragon-killing himself,” You nodded, “Can’t roam the seas here alone without a swift hand.”
Hiccup looked uneasy.
“Some merchants have a reputation for a reason,” You warned, “Keep an eye out for that one.”
“It just… Seems out of character,” Hiccup said carefully, voice halting.
“It’s to keep you from asking about the Romans, I assume,” You tilted your head back, looking up and enjoying the sun; this was old news to you. One of your folks had tried to get him to join your group, once upon a time, even ignorant to the vast majority of his dealings.
He was skilled enough, to them, for it not to matter how shady he was. It was worth the danger, you thought, at the time, “I know he deals closely with them. Or, other dragon hunters. It’s very hard for patrons to ask unwanted questions when they don’t have the time, see.”
“I don’t really know much about that. I don’t like it all that much,” Hiccup’s lips tightened into a thin line before quickly correcting, “Not…the merchanting. But the hunting.”
“You used to be so enthusiastic about it,” You shifted, pressing more of your weight against the stone by your back.
“I… Outgrew it. The whole fighting thing. The whole… Viking thing,” Hiccup seemed exhausted, voice tired as he spoke. The words, too, were odd to you.
While dragons had been adapted into life on Berk in a whole new way, the people here didn’t seem any less… Norse.
You thought of looking at him again, giving him a skeptical eye, yet you decided it wasn’t worth the effort you’d have to expend to pull your face down and out of the sunlight, which tickled the senses embedded into your face like blades of grass against your palms and toes.
You’d offer him a solution instead. Whether he liked it or not… He might find some solace in it, anyhow.
“You could come be a merchant with me, instead. As you’d planned. You’d be good for it,” You hummed, yet your heart wasn’t completely in it.
He could choose, now.
His voice was hesitant, though it seemed he’d like to humor the idea anyways, “You’d want me On your ship? What- Counting coins?”
The suggestion wasn’t incredible to you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known how to craft or like he hadn’t been prepared for it, this whole time.
“Yes,” You confirmed, “Keeping stock… Making stock. Like you’d been trained.”
He looked down, “What if I refuse?”
You shrugged lazily, despite your earlier concern. Your purpose was not to cause upset, your goal not trouble. Your mind was far from a state where you could act in a completely serious manner, though your tone held the continued taste of formality.
“What about our… Engagement?”
“I suppose you have a choice,” You hummed you stretched without moving, arms muscles flexing, in place, satisfying a deep urge in your muscles to pull, like a washwoman, hands wrought with callouses after finishing a heavy load late into the frigid night, or a thick man, arms dusted with hair and sawdust as he braced his hands against his back and pushed, spine cracking like sharp rocks tapping into each other after being kicked and flat stones being rubbed against one another by the light, clumsy hands of a child.
You’d nearly lost your words, the subject of your conversation fading like gentle thoughts from a fuzzy mind, faint and lost under a sea of buzzing evening pleasure.
“You remember what I gave you last time?” Hiccup asked, after a long moment, in which your head had nearly dropped back as far as it would go, your arms nearly falling limp.
It took you another very long moment to recall.
“The knife or the coin?” You murmured, voice sluggish, eyes closed, “They were nice souvenirs.”
You shifted as you finally looked up, turning towards your fiance with half-lidded eyes and a contented smile.
His expression went from stiff with slight worry to a melted caring.
“Here’s another,” He handed you a cool piece of metal with hesitant hands, yet they were not at all shaking. No apprehension, as they had held the last time you spoke, gone as he’d somehow found a way to grow into himself.
You weren’t sure what the purpose of it was. Was it a promise? Payment for your time?
You hummed and leaned closer, forehead dropping onto his shoulder ever as you pulled your fingers weakly shut around the coin, nuzzling into the fur of his coat; You’d already been in close proximity, so there was no thought expended in the action, especially as the barriers you’d shared had been weakly drifting aside, moving further and faster as you’d spent the day together.
The light outside was yellow but somewhat waning, still bright enough to shine through the skin of your lids.
I’ll think about it,” He said and you murmured amused nonsense, half furrowing your brows as your eyelids weighed ever heavier with drowsiness, fur hairs tickling and grazing at your brows, “I’m sure. I really wouldn’t be good for it.”
You closed your eyes, breathing softly as he spoke.
You decided that there was nothing more to do, to be active or attentive for, and you were very content after such a long day spent together.
“It’s fine… You’d learn it well, eventually,” You spoke, muffled into his sleeve as your head bobbed further down.
You’d been on the boat’s deck, performing your duty early in the morning since just before the night-darkness turned to morning-darkness, so you were tired. You were one of the earliest awake, the job to navigate to this location one that the others deemed to be your responsibility.
“Are you alright?” Hiccup asked, suddenly.
“I’m just tired.” You said, tilting your head ever so slightly and blinking drowsily up at him.
He looked at you as if he’d been startled, leaning away slightly in a way that caused you to fall forward and look up further, your chin resting on his arms. His mouth was curled to the side slightly just as it was a smidge open, the full range of his pupil visible, an expression you took in with heavy amusement.
Your fingers tugged at his sleeves ever so gently as you sort of righted yourself; it wasn’t like he hadn’t ever seen your face before.
He smiled, shifting yet somehow closer, bridging the gap between him and you, pressing shoulder against shoulder and teasing your slightly cold fingers with his warm ones.
Later, you would be found messily laying atop each other, sleeping like sunbathing animals, just before the last hints of light faded from the sky. All was well.
You took your busted tooth, strung on twine, and dropped it around his neck.
“You’re weird,” Hiccup said fondly and awkwardly, looking downwards.
You patted his arm.
You supposed, to him, you would be a bit of an odd one.
“Some other people would find it special,” You hummed, knowing the reaction it would rise out of him, “Aren’t you supposed to find it lucky?”
You knew there were some norsemen who kept their teeth with pride, though the tradition was not necessarily one of yours. It may not have been one of Hiccup’s, either.
“I’m not wearing this,” Hiccup warned, “...All the time.”
“I know you’ll keep it close,” You hummed slyly.
Thankfully, only a few things had gone sour, and none of the backs that had been stabbed had been yours. None from your group within a group of merchants. Your hold was a few crewmates lighter, though that served you just as well, the scales in a pouch by your hip more than making up for the loss in your eyes.
You could never stay longer than a few days, yet you made the most of it, knowing that it could be a while before you’d see him again; perhaps not a year or two, as it had been the last time you’d been off. At least, you’d found yourself hoping not.
You pressed a soft peck to his mouth, which felt a bit odd given it was still slightly open, then pulled back and waited, trying to gauge his reaction.
You were met with pleased surprise, a mouth half-open with a smile.
Then you brushed off your poncho as you stood at the docks, those behind you getting ready to leave.
Men carried chests aboard your smallish home, full of food and wood and other things, traded for luxuries and good stories.
Though the number of Vikings at the docks was few, you were still cautious, leaning closer to him.
There was not so much fanfare as when you arrived, and though you spent very much time together, you felt as if there was still a distance between you and the rest of the people and things involved in his life.
“You could still come with me,” You whispered into his ear mischievously.
Hiccup rolled his eyes as you pulled back, an amused smile on both your lips, his, once again, slightly more surprised than your own.
You didn’t particularly expect him to take you seriously, his quick smile morphing into a puzzled frown.
“Who will take charge after, though? Everyone expects me to- especially now that I’ve…”
You pondered his dilemma vaguely- they must have had a solution, someone who was assumed to take the place in line behind his father. If Hiccup was to be married off to you, the chance that he was in line at all in the first place was the punchline of a joke.
There must have been some solution- and with his ascension, some political strife among his father’s subjects.
“Make them choose a council,” You said offhandedly, bringing one hand further upwards to squeeze his shoulder, “Vote for it. Some of the larger groups-guilds- do it.”
You both knew you weren’t referring to any Vikings. At least none of the ones your fiance knew of.
You knew the Romans did something similar, though bringing it up with him now would more than likely sour the mood. The Vikings and the Romans… A troublesome rivalry. You were not quite sure how that worked, given the Berkians’ confinement to the Archipelago.
They probably seemed to be more a group of banded pirates than a civilized society to the Berkians.
“It would be better to have someone closer to their own issues in charge, anyways,” You sighed contemplatively.
The hairs on the back of your neck were prickling, a second sense ringing, honed over years of travel and a few harrowing moments where you had been nearly abandoned by your crew in foreign land after a sudden need to fly.
You were all too aware as the last few of your crewmates shambled up the ramp and into your boat.
“Huh?” Hiccup said dumbly, in a way that felt slightly foolish and in a way that did not follow what you had come to expect from him or suit him at all.
“The common folk. It’s easier to divvy up chores when there’s a group vote. Your father doesn’t have a council?” You asked, as Hiccup grabbed your hands, entwining your fingers.
Even the most solitary king had an advisor or two.
You drew out the moment farther than you would have perhaps allowed in any other situation, never allowing yourself to be in a state where you’d be left behind, not since you were unbelievably young and ignorant to the measures and numbers that could be calculated with just a hand. The others were not at all sympathetic to the ones who’d not been at the boats in time for departure.
“I’ll deal with it later,” Hiccup said unsurely, eyes glancing off to the side, before focusing back onto you.
His look was shared in a way that promised a few more goodbyes, yet a call from the ramp leading up to your ship had drawn your attention away from him.
“Yes… Until next time,” You placed one last press of lips against his cheekbone, half over his eye, before lowering from your toes and gently allowing your fingers to release from his own.
It was all very sudden.
You’d not heard of anyone else who rode a dragon- no one with a dragon quite so dark and devilish.
It had to be his, black as a bat, that was quickly approaching you from the sky, which you’d previously thought to be a seabird, shocking given that they never traveled this far out to sea.
You didn’t run, balk or hide as he approached, sure and confident in him as you were in the standing of your engagement, despite the time that passed; until he’d given his word, it was still standing, though you supposed that could be what he’d tracked you down to discuss.
He came looking for you.
His dragon swooped downwards, wings outstretched like a hawk going in for the kill, dropping against the deck with a bounce and a run, the force of it causing your boat to tilt to the side.
You’d never seen it up close and in person before, leather and scale hide dark as night, tinted blue as the sky nearly always was.
Astride its back was most definitely a man, just reaching the cusp between teenhood and adulthood, shaped in a way that was slightly different yet altogether recognizable.
Quicker than any stallion could approach, his mount bounded towards you, blowing in your direction just nearly as fast as the sea wind blew through your scalp, growing suddenly larger until he was up in your face, and then swept half past you.
With the momentum left over from his landing and a grunt, he was able to hook his arm around your waist and pull you up, half spinning you and pulling you up onto the seat of his saddle and over his dragon.
Quickly, your lips met, him dipping his head just slightly even as you were pulled onto the saddle with him, laughing joyfully and with slight startle, wondering what you’d done to enjoy such a passionate embrace.
You weren’t sure where he’d found the strength within those wiry limbs, though you guessed there had to be much more under peachy skin than you originally assumed.
“I didn’t mean for it to be so long,” You murmured, examining the face which had to most definitely belong to your fiance.
You hadn’t the opportunity; this ship wasn’t under your command, after all, or any, and so you were still to bend to the whims of the majority, unable to fulfill the requirements of your duty, though when you could, you made sure to stick close to the Archipelago.
In the years since you’d last seen him, he’d definitely grown taller, now donning brown leather, pressed into a scaled pattern. His jaw had sharpened and you could see a nice pair of cheekbones, previously hidden under waning baby fat.
“I’ll stop by whenever you need,” Hiccup said, almost pleading, with easy acceptance as he brought up his other hand, previously clutching at one of the leather saddle handles under you, now holding your face.
His knuckles ran down your neck gently, before he lifted it and settled his palm down for a run down your side, parallel to his other.
It was an aweing display of affection, one you supposed you should come to expect if he’d be pushing the limits of your relationship every time you met, something you once again found you weren’t quite against.
You blinked at him, eyelashes brushing against his in a mock display of affection.
You could not hide how you had been thrown off, and yet you couldn’t help the light feeling inside of your chest or the curling of the corners of your mouth that followed, in great contrast to the bitter shouting and disgruntled grumbling of your crewmates working the ropes,
displeased by the shaking of the ship.
“I’ll expect you more often, then,” You hummed, nearly sung, conceding to his affections as your noses touched, your hand casually tugging at a leather strap, the one traveling half the length of his chest like a cut sash.
He wasn't the only one who had changed some; time had made you easier, more relaxed in a few varied ways.
You returned his embrace easily, like one of two love birds or as you’d seen a few tree-crawling animals do during your travels, tails curling and twining together in a universal expression of joy, limbs wrapping around the other as if to convey the extent of their devotion through proximity.
You could feel the bumps and ridges in the leather he wore through your own tunic’s fabric, stomach pressed flush to his torso.
You were sure he’d fly you back to the ship before they’d gotten far, but that would all be done later.
You had brought and held a scant few of your things, still impressed that he’d flown to you this time.
You stood over a clearing, packed, dry dirt surrounded by saturated green grasses over a cool clifftop, a wide open, empty space
Along the sides, Hiccup’s companions also lounged, draconic and not. You paid them little attention, and as such they seemed largely disinterested in turn, though a few jeers exposed the novelty of your interaction.
His traveling group consisted of who you assumed to be the same few teens you’d seen on Berk, the ones he’d taken to referring to in passing.
You’d never come to have known them. You’d not even held a conversation the one time you’d been by them at the docks at fifteen winters. You’d not heard enough of them to truly make a space for you to remember them in your recollections, though a few disjointed names floated along the tip of your tongue.
You couldn’t imagine Hiccup was anything but practical when you were gone, or that you existed as anything but a topic not thought of or spoken much about, though nothing was sure as you had to confess that you hadn’t known your fiance as well as you had liked.
You supposed you’d have to get acquainted somewhat further if you were going to be visiting more often now that your husband-to-be was more inclined to go after you than wait for you to return to his home.
“We were planning on… Settling somewhere, exploring a bit,” then Hiccup grumbled under his breath, “is this where you’ve been, all this time?”
You laughed under your breath, arms locked over his shoulders and around his neck in an embrace, enjoying the sun on your face and the day breeze against your nose, “There are a great deal more places outside the archipelago.”
“There are more places outside the archipelago?” He seemed surprised.
You brought one foot back to rub at your ankle and wrinkled your nose at him with amusement; if he hadn’t believed that, then why had he left his little island?
He probably had, but you couldn’t call him anything less than naive, even if he was wise in other ways.
Though… you could see very well that his inexperience would bloom into something else given the right amount of time.
“Of course. Where do you think I’d gone all these years? There are no fjords as beautiful as the ones I’ve known here, or waves nearly half as big as the ones I’ve lived past,” You declared calmly, parroting him.
“I thought those were just… Stories,” Hiccup proposed, eyes darting to the side.
“Not at all,” Your lips curled with amusement.
Some had been exaggerated, maybe, by consequence of your thoughtlessness, too busy or perhaps lazy to recount the story in full, but many if not most had been spoken with words as true as you could make them.
“You’ve no sense of adventure?” You asked, listening to the twittering and rustling of the wind and other living things through the grasses.
“I need to bring it into practice more often,” Hiccup said, determinedly, pupils focused on you, “I’ll probably get to, now.”
“There’s not much to keep besides,” You said, looking down at your belongings softly, the small, warped and dented dull knife and the sharper, more refined but not yet perfect dagger, “But I kept them.”
They lay in a shallow wooden box, a simple one that you’d had since childhood, old and not worth anything. So, it had been something you could hide things away in for yourself and no one would mind.
It was incredibly sentimental for you, your thumb running over a slightly chipped child’s knife handle, remembering how you carried it around for seasons as you had been sure it was your duty to, a representation of your loyalty and dedication to your exchange.
You pulled yourself up from your crouch, bringing your hand back to your side, turning back.
“You really did, huh?” Your husband-to-be looked at you with sensitive eyes, prosthetic creaking and boot padding against the wood floor as he moved towards you, movements slow in a way that you could only describe as incredibly soft, perhaps too much so, for an interaction you primarily interpreted as casual.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
As you’d grown familiar again, Hiccup went to seek you out with more frequency, though he didn’t always find you, not right away.
He’d gone through many, many adventures yet still somehow found time for you, when he wasn’t off fighting for his life and his dragons’, though it had been a week or two since the last you’d seen him.
You furrowed your brows, looking to the side with your own softening eyes, running a tired hand down the side of your face, “Would you rather I have not?”
“No,” Your fiance returned, though you had the slight suspicion that he hadn’t heeded your words at all, “This is good. It’s- It’s a good thing.”
You shifted slightly to your left to compensate for the slow tilting of the ground below you, leather spines falling against one another as their center of gravity changed.
The shelves built into the walls of your cabin came with a few novels stored, some more worn than others, all with a few loose pages that you’d worked hard to earn, buy, hide and, on the rare occasion, had pettily stolen, carried from dock to dock as merchandise, though your reason for having them was much more selfish.
During your travels, for many years, you’d wanted for things to do in your free time.
Some were written in multiple languages, some in just one, groups separated by carved tablets, held still by strings nailed across most of your shelving, so that they would not fall over during the rougher storms.
Most of them you would end up selling along with a few other odds and ends that carried, posed on your shelves in a way you felt added to the mystique, some of them booby trapped so that anyone wandering that might have found their way down from the deck wouldn’t be leaving with a full hand.
The more important things you kept hidden. The fancier gifts lay in secret compartments all around your room, some stuck into the hollow covers of hard-bound books, sewn and nailed together by your own hand. Your old, shallow tray always lay hidden in a shallow compartment in your desk.
Speaking of gifts…
“Take these back with you,” You said, nodding to your side, where lay an array of multicolored, expensive perfume, shelved in neatly packaged rows, stoppers held still by a wooden frame, multicolored glass bodies of different, polished shapes exposed below for display.
Cheap gems lay by it along the dark-stained wood, some of your knicknacks, nothing that would earn you coin or food or any of the resources you would need to travel if you’d tried to sell it in its country of origins, some dyed, pigment laying heavy in some visible cracks in multicolored faces.
You handed him a map as well, many times transcribed and copied by your own hand, taken down from your wall earlier after some further thought, held in its roll by a leather strap and a carefully pressed wax seal.
He might enjoy that one more.
You eyed Hiccup admiringly in your most private inner sanctum.
It was good to have someone else in your corner, someone by you- a small comfort, what with the commotion above deck. The thought of it caused the hairs on the back of your neck to prickle.
A few days before, you’d interjected at the wrong moment during a heavy argument over an already tense episode.
You’d felt malicious eyes on your back ever since, and your paranoia had been spiking, chills like thorns against your nape. You were worried that your position on board was precarious and you would fall victim to the sabotage you’d always just borne witness to.
The chances of them trying something now, with your fiance around, were much lower.
“Perfume?” Hiccup asked, unimpressed and a little upset as, from a distance he inspected your shelves, one of his hands outstretched in order to grab the rolled-up map as you passed it to him.
Your fingers slid smoothly against Hiccup’s as yellowed paper passed from your hands in a way that you could only describe as sensual.
You knew the scents were ill-suited. The gift had been a suggestion by another, something to keep up the pretense of a healthy engagement. It had been a while since you’d been dutiful, in that sense.
You’d listened, but only because you knew your fiance had been carrying the burden of your relationship for a while. It seemed terribly inconvenient for your valiant to-be to have to come and try to find you each time.
He’d found you this time as you’d been traveling down to Knaff, last you had checked, but that had been days ago. The seas around you now, though, were unusually bumpy for the typically calm fishing region. It was much colder here, wherever you were.
The ship groaned slightly under you, wood crackling, sound reverberating deeply as the vessel moved in near half a rotation.
At one point, you considered splitting off with some of your other crewmates, onto a different ship, where you’d be afforded more freedom. It would provide you with more of the freedom to visit with your fiance.
Though- the idea of traveling away from the one place you’d stuck by since you were a very, very small child- you’d been born on another ship, though you hadn’t seen that one since you’d been three or five- it was a daunting idea, and one that would ultimately bring more harm than good.
You had been slowly working your way up the ranks, taking more charge and responsibility over the deck and under it. To leave- you’d have to fight tooth and nail to ensure you kept some level of authority.
You had to fight for the right to your own room.
You shed your overcoat, dropping it along the top half of your chair, the one poised in front of your desk, papers ordered neatly and in a way that would prevent them from sliding off the top, quill and ink bottle also secured into a carved, shallow hole in the corner of it.
You were born into the life of a traveling merchant and there you would stay. And, if it came down to it, you knew you wouldn’t stay grounded. A life wondering was much less terrible than a life shackled to land.
Jumping ship now seemed to be the wrong move, especially at a time when your fiance had a flying, fire-breathing dragon free for his own fast-traveling use. However, if you had your own way into the sky… Or, if he’d like to lend you his, well, you couldn’t toss that idea completely.
“I did not pick it out,” You grumbled eventually, voice low in case your voice carried past the wall, where you could hear the quiet, packed groaning and shifting of your crewmates, off duty, “You’ll like the other one more. Give the scents to your other secret girlfriend.”
You would have to find a way to compensate for his efforts, to return the formality, in other ways.
Shadows danced and lingered moodily, filling the room with something that was nearly occult, your way lit by glass-covered candles with holes along the front as your ship rocked slowly, evening turning to true night.
Of course it was dark and dim in your cabin at the end of your small hall, your room wide yet inconvenient in the event the ship started to flood, or went down, with no exit holes or doors to provide any extra light.
Hiccup started, stepping towards you in his startlement, speaking quietly as he was reminded by the low tone of your voice to keep his down too, “Secret girlfriend?”
There was another chair in the direction you strode, further obscured by shadow, though a small candle lay in that same area, your dull sandy green-gray poncho already dropped over its wooden top.
It was completely opposite to the side of your room that held Hiccup, shelves to his back and lining the wall all the way up to your small, boarded wooden door on one side, stopping just before the place which had had your cot in the corner.
That one was a soft bed with no frame, a world of difference from the hammock lining the other rooms in this ship, held in place by a shallow border not unlike the kind farmers cultivated that lined shallow beds of herbs and flowers.
You stopped your striding once you reached your small changing area, hooking your fingers under worn, slightly dirtied fabric with a displeased twitch of your lips, lifting and pulling it aside until it rested on the very edge of your chair in one smooth, neat motion.
It revealed white fabric, folded over twice and hanging under where your poncho previously lay.
“The Hofferson girl,” You rolled your eyes unseriously. You’d heard the rumors, yet hadn’t taken them seriously.
The tips of your fingers teased the white fabric, a classic wool, contrasting against scarring on your hands from working the ropes, before you pulled it up and hung it over one arm, embroidered hems shifting at the motion like a fine curtain in front of an open window, slightly billowing as you turned.
You ran quick fingers down a smooth frame to your side, ready to hook your fingers underneath it and pull.
“Astrid?” Hiccup asked, startled, “No- We’re not-”
“You’re not?” You attempted a tease as you turned your attention fully towards the door, though your fiance looked much too puzzled to have caught on to your jest. You also did not joke very often- and therein may have laid the problem.
“I mean, maybe I thought about it once, when I was, like, ten… But, no-! I mean…”
You did not take offense to the suggestion- you had sort of expected the topic to show face eventually.
You pulled lightly on the door’s frame, listening to the roll and scrape of wood against wood as you pulled its screen across the room and between both you and Hiccup, light dancing oddly through the paper and slightly muffling any sound coming from the other side.
You had not been coached on how to respond to the topic of a straying eye any more than you’d been coached in the art of body language and petty subterfuge. However, you were confident in your ability to navigate the conversation.
You learned, of course, that for others, it was quite natural for the mind to wander, as long as the hands stayed put. In a situation such as yours where the pairing was born more from duty and obligation than choice, you could not shame him for the thought.And he’d been only a child, at that.
It was hardly a breach of contract.
You released your hand on the pull out door standing half-open on one side of you.
You were far from the ship’s darling- you had argued with the others for the privilege of having that door. One man was under the fool impression that it would upset the balance of the boat, as if his goods-hoarding on the other side hadn’t done enough damage on its own.
“You never thought about anyone else?” Hiccup asked, as you tugged on the bottommost hem of your tunic, your belts long since discarded.
You considered his words, pausing for a moment. You hadn’t many other options, in terms of folks to ogle at.
The thought -not quite that one, but a similar one- had come to you on a day when you’d been working the sails, hands wrapped around the ship’s ropes, sleeves rolled up past your elbows. You didn’t believe it -of course, this arrangement had been made less willingly on his part than yours, so it came as a surprise, to you, the idea that he might have thought of you at all, when you’d been gone, yet you knew he kept your tooth in his belt.
He’d called you odd for giving it to him, once, but- You’d found him to be much more of an ‘oddball.’
You tongued the empty socket, which had grown much shallower and thinner as your gums had healed.
“No,” You said, face blank, though you were sure he could not see it, especially as you pulled your tunic upwards, largely distorting your shadow, “I am engaged.”
You knew from experience that on the other side, your shirtless form would cast a shadow against the opposite wall through the decorated paper face of your sliding wall, matching the outline of a rip on just one side, just above a carefully embroidered branch of flowers, a faulty import which you’d fixed with some thread and a needle.
You’d spent hours warning others away -children and the busy adult folk- in case the distraction caused you to poke your eye out, the bobbing of the ship making your predicament all the more dangerous.
You listened to the heavy shifting of your own fabrics, not intending to leave Hiccup to stew in silence and yet that was what happened all the same.
Offhandedly and without intention, you’d been listening, and what you heard could perhaps have been a swallow or a noise coming in strongly from the other room or up from the groaning wood. Maybe it was something that had traveled through the walls from the outside, the pouding of footsteps above heavy.
You watched in your periphery as your shadow stretched and bowed against transparent, casting paper as you dropped your tunic to the seat of your chair, half bare form dancing with the tiny flame on your other side in a way you might have likened to some type of poetry had you been focused on it at all.
Then, once again you felt at the frame to one side of you, hooking your fingers around its side.
You revealed yourself, your sliding door sticking slightly as you pushed it back aside, yet you kept your eyes down as, with one thumb, you traced the seam along one of your sides.
You felt your hand through the fabric, probing and dull, sliding down to just below your waist, your eyes looking down all the while in order to make sure it lay correctly over the nearly invisible hem of your trousers underneath.
Then you lifted your head.
Your fiance had paused, his hand grazing against the top of your desk on the opposite side of your room.
As you looked up at him, you registered a mouth parted slightly and your eyes focused on the slight shift of his Adam's apple.
His own eyes seemed interested, curious, focused on your gown and its hem, which reached low. Lower than you were used to, in a way that reminded you of a dream you’d had once about white child’s robes and tiny brown-haired boys.
“How does it look?” You asked, arms splayed out slightly.
“What’s the, uh-” Hiccup laughed nervously, low and under his breath, hand leaning heavy against your desk chair, other palm running through his hair, “The white for?”
“You may not be thinking of it yet, but we are of marriageable age,” You insisted, “ Once you decide what to do -in spite of whatever you choose- I need to have a presentable wardrobe.”
“What- What?”
“The point of our engagement -any engagement- is marriage, dear future husband of mine,” You grumbled, “Unless you intend to break it off?”
Hiccup stumbled forwards slightly as the boat rocked particularly roughly.
Some incredibly muffled shouting from above deck sounded finally through the wood, a sure sign that his dragon above was wreaking havoc.
He would need to attend to it, soon, as you would other things. Wedding preparations were a far off thought, fallen to the wayside until you once again expressed the need to check to see if things were still in order.
“No! No- no, not at all,” Hiccup said, waving his hands around in front of him, “I just don’t know if I’m… ready.”
It was inevitable, the choice he’d have to make- you weren’t sure what kinds of reassurances you could offer him.
You could say that you would keep him safe, that you would mind him well as you’d prepared for most of your life, but it was clear that that wouldn’t be needed any longer. Really, with his dragon, he would be the one doing the minding.
You knew that, in his home, a grand-looking sword hung on the wall which was meant for you, as you'd been made to know by reading between the lines. It was a sword made for marriage, and it had been made by Hiccup, apparently, though you knew he was surely much too young at fifteen summers to make some of the detailing on the handle anywhere near as fine.
And yes- the thought hit you with little fanfare- ‘Summers’ seemed a more appropriate term to measure him by, anyways. He was eighteen summers. It felt righter than eighteen winters, though that was the standard unit of measure, here.
Really, Hiccup was very… Alive.
You rolled your eyes, “I will be prepared for when you are.”
Maybe he was not the most passionate or violent, but he felt- Well, you saw he could be combative and he had wants that you recognized. He was not the warmest but he was very warm, compared to you, and he indulged in contact frequently when the situation deemed it appropriate. You had to say he did, in fact, embody those traits more so than most, as you’d known them.
You examined Hiccup’s roiling expression, leaning to the left side as the ship leaned particularly hard to the right.
You were only slightly surprised when your fiance spoke, ready to turn away and put your casual clothes back on, with or without his approval, “You wouldn’t… Leave? I know whatever we have was just…” A contract. An exchange. You were familiar with the concept.
He had a way with words, too, that made you feel slightly as if you could be warm as well. He was, in a way, like the summer to your fleeting winter. So, he was nineteen summers, perhaps, or maybe twenty. Numbers tended to change when you altered the unit of measure.
You were about the same number of winters, now. Whether that made you all the more fitting for each other or whether or not it was the first indication of the inevitable failure of your engagement had remained to be seen.
“A deal’s a deal. However, ties are easily cut- Should you have been found lacking at any time, and I had measured my worth differently, I would have left,” You grumbled, “I am satisfied with our arrangement.”
After a while of silence, your fiance spoke again.
“I guess I am, too,” Hiccup said, striding quickly over the few feet parting the two of you, hooking an arm behind your waist as if to feel you out in your new garments, pulling you flush to him, his belts and straps pressing into your skin in a way that felt quite natural.
You looked into your fiance’s eyes. The folds below seemed slightly deeper, the coloring underneath darker than they should have been had he been rested, his grip slightly weaker than it had been earlier when he had seemed more wakeful.
You would, too, head to bed soon. It was much too late for him to fly back alone, so late at night, you thought. You wondered if he would sleep besides you this night?
You smiled.
Your frantic, all-consuming panic quickly broke into anger.
The sleep that had been spirited away from you as you had been accosted in the middle of the night then crept dangerously up against your back, weighing your lids, luring you towards a thick, minacious rest.
You’d ground your teeth weakly, fluttering your eyelids as you fought yourself back into wakefulness.
They had tried to kill you- and even worse, they had tried to steal your fiance’s Fury. They had no idea what sort of boundaries they had crossed, political and otherwise.
It was an idiot move- to cross an island full of bloodlusted clansmen with dragons.
They knocked you overboard into the water as you slept, tossing a few things out after you into the bobbing bergs and fractured ice below, which you had to soldier through, hauling up the nearly completely hollow chest, holding what number of your belongings you could muster.
You could never go back after such a betrayal, even if every single member of your ship was meticulously picked off and skinned.
You cursed, nose wrinkling and face morphing into an expression you thought must be ugly as you stared angrily into the opaque white and transparent ice walls, displaying long-since sealed over pockets.
What had they even been planning to tell Stoick the Vast- were they just going to say his heir had died? Been thrown overboard as they had taunted as they sailed away?
They couldn’t be so foolish as to think they could get away with it. They would all die.
Your nails hurt, fingers stiff with cold. The flesh and skin over their bone worked against you, sluggish and unmoving, numb, feeling more akin to an obstruction than a real part of your body.
The lightest layer of flakes, powdered on top of the harder packed snow beneath had been long since displaced by you.
They had Toothless muzzled, his fin ripped to shreds, wrapped tight with rope, leather hanging in scraps from his back, yet he had been too wriggly and too violent to hold and sell as they had planned.
You were stuck inside a hollow cave of ice in a glacier, the entrance looking more like a wide crack in the side than a smooth hole.
Toothless’ knocking around had trapped you and had also provided you shelter against the elements in a world where you couldn’t conceive of anything but ice, above and below.
The black dragon was outside the collapsed ice tunnel, side pressed to the exit as he scratched at his muzzle made of leather, not as sturdy as it could have been, already just beginning to give under his ripping claws.
It was much easier for you to make him out when he’d been scrabbling at the walls along the clearer side of the small enclave. Now, he was a fuzzy, filled outline behind ragged gouges, half obscured by fallen, white ice boulders.
He would be fine.
Dragons had an inner fire about them, a simmer that kept them hot even naked in the frigid winterland your fiance called home.
You were too incensed and bare to do much of anything but shake, your senses fading and your skin discolored by the cold, huddled in the snow as it was packed beneath you.
You’d been through harsh weather before, though you had always been donned in the most appropriate outerwear and all your practice south had meant that you were more accustomed to the heat than cold.
It was incredibly difficult to find Berk in the winter months as the ocean froze your way- You had never experienced something like this before. The archipelago was something different. Even if you’d wanted to wear the proper clothes, there was no doubt that they had scalped your living quarters already.
You were afraid your lips were blueing, yet your silent fury kept you active; awake, alive.
Now, you were nearly completely bare. It was cold, and you were not as strong against the icy weather as Hiccup was, fine even in just his thin tunic and what bits of his leather armor he could salvage.
At least you were hidden.
“I can’t-” Hiccup said, incensed, voice echoing slightly across the enclosed space, positioned directly across from you on the other side.
Hiccup was, of course, stuck with you. He wasn’t rendered anywhere near as inept, adapted to the cold. He spent his time fruitlessly grinding at the frigid ice blocking the entrance to the cave.
Nearly invisible beneath his fist was the tiny knife he’d made you years and years before, one of the very few things you’d been able to salvage, that you’d searched and wanted for.
With a rough sigh, he gave up, standing from his half-crouch as if your gaze beckoned him away, his prosthetic barely giving under hsi weight as it, too, probably felt the harsh freeze of winter.
“Are you alright?” Hiccup asked, voice conveying his exhaustion yet burdened by not much more than his aching arms. He was probably well practiced in the hard art of withstanding winter storms.
You took a real look at him for the first time since you’d been thrown overboard, past your own heavy eyelids, a slight appreciation for him blooming behind the rage you felt, not nearly enough to blow the other emotion over but something you could reach if you felt for it.
For a while, you’d seen more and known more- at least that’s what you thought.
You’d wondered when he’d grown up, if in another life you would have gotten to see him change from boy to man up close
What he lacked in relative size, he was able to manage in presence, a conviction so interwoven into his stance and actions it must have carried into his very blood. It was in a way you thought you might only ever see from his Dad, ever as he lay crouched over the blocked cave exit, scratching away at it with near fruitless efforts.
“I’m-m,” You attempted to voice, though what you wanted to say was a mystery even to you- you wanted to voice your thanks, maybe, for accompanying you up to this point, where you might’ve very well died. For not focusing all of his attentions on his dragon in the snow, who could have most quickly flown him away, even if it would have left you freezing dead in the broken white.
Frustratingly, you found your tongue wouldn’t move as you wanted, feeling like an extra lump of bumpy meat in your mouth as the ice below remained sapping away at your heat, cold like spikes hiking up the flesh of your thighs.
You sighed roughly yet shakily, “I’m well.”
Hiccup paused for a moment, staring at you.
You kept close to your only heat source, held up from the barely melting snow below by a small, fat carved block of stone; a tiny fire started using a few things that hadn’t gotten too damp, mostly wood.
You wanted to shift in the slush, yet you knew if you did, you would feel its bite even more intensely. There was nothing but ice and blue all around you.
You weren’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to you before, but you had half a mind to stand up and get out of the cold.
You jerked but you found you couldn’t get up, hands feeling stuck to your elbows, arms frozen to arms.
You then sighed forcefully, waveringly. Whiningly.
“Wait- It’s fine,” Hiccup said, moving -stumbling- towards you instead as your shallow breathing echoed throughout the small enclave with worrying volume, “I’ll just-”
He leaned down and touched your shoulder slowly, chilled fingers leaving small bits of ice and a slight, barely-felt trail of water behind.
As if you had been finally granted permission, your body let out a hard shutter, the kind that made you flex your jaw as you were wrought with spasms.
You could feel his arm jump, though the feeling wasn’t as tense and raw as you supposed it should have been.
“You’re cold,” Hiccup said, startled. His voice was tinged with worry.
“An-nd,” You wheezed, speaking concedingly, “Tired.”
“Come here,” He said.
You were able to manage a shift, though you had a hard time tracking what came next as he settled behind you, your eyes closing even as you kept your head up, and you were lost in the blackness and the fuzziness of a drowsy half-sleep.
When your eyes had found themselves open again -by some thoughtless miracle, you were sure- Hiccup was behind you, his own arms circled over your own arms, stuck around your knees.
His prosthetic, still tied to his leg, was positioned away from you, cold metal held a few measures further away than it would have been had he let his leg lie naturally. The metal portion by the very end was nearly completely hidden in the snow.
Your head bobbed heavily as your muscles periodically gave in, a few sharp commands from your waning mind the only thing keeping your head from falling all the way down and you from losing your wits and falling to slumbers.
You’d never felt your head so heavy before.
Hiccup leaned forwards and rested his own head against you, albeit probably unintentionally -at least, as you’d assumed- burying his nose behind your ear.
“Are you… Are you awake?” He asked, his voice louder to your ears than it had been before, even as its tone was gentle and as your senses were dull to most everything around you.
Hiccup was hot. His skin on yours felt like burning, a dulled version of the feeling of skin teasing boiling water or glancing off glowing red metal, and yet you found yourself drawn to it deeply.
You let out a little noise that could have been a sigh as he pulled closer, scooting inwards.
A few clumps of slough were pushed up and trapped between you as he did, yet you couldn’t find the words to complain, not when he was so kind.
“...I am-m.”
You weren't sure when and how many times you’d nearly drifted off before that moment, humming and grunting disjointedly, everything out of rhythm like an instrument out of time, though you tried to take in your fiance’s voice.
As your vision blurred and you focused in and out of your surroundings, you felt more than registered a dull noise that must have been a loud… something.
You’d probably not be able to feel anything more specific than an all-encompassing chill, and through your troubles, it took you a while to realize that Hiccup was speaking, again.
“...-When we get out of this, you could leave with me… or stay. Whatever you want,” Hiccup suggested honestly.
You opened your mouth, but had to pause. It- what he had been saying… It sounded important.
Yes- Was he talking about… The Archipelago, or his smaller Edge home? The others talked about moving back to Berk sometimes…. and with everything that had happened recently- you couldn’t remember what… It seemed he would be going back soon, anyways. It felt right enough.
It took you a moment, and a while of thinking, during which you must have been making a face, to come up with a somewhat worthy response.
“Yo-u’re going to run away?” You tried to huff, voice tinged with struggle and slur.
“No,” Hiccup said, “Maybe. I just can’t… With my Dad, and the Chiefdom-”
You pushed back into him as much as you could, shifting your shoulders as if you could press more of his heat into you if you’d leaned further into him.
“And it’s-” Hiccup seemed slightly frustrated, though the feeling wasn’t very potent, moreso subtle and said in a way that implied it was aimed towards a very distant thing, “I’m not running away. I just don’t want to do it.”
You tilted your head slightly to glance at him from the corner of your eye, grieving as he pulled his face further from the back of your head.
“I almost ran away once. For real,” He spoke like the confession rolled heavily off his tongue.
You felt a little cold at his admittance, a chill running down your spine. But…
“I thought I’d come here first… “ He murmured, his forehead touching your nape, “Well, not here- but I would try and convince you to come travel… with me, instead.”
“Hm-m?” You mumbled,
“I don’t… need it, if I have you. I think,” Hiccup looked down between you, nearly laughing under his breath, “You have enough stories to keep anyone’s thirst for adventure satisfied for life. I spent my life expecting to go with you- and now they want me to stay?”
He sighed heavily, “I can’t. I can’t. I- I want this.”
He had many more skills than the ones provided by being just a craftsman, now. It would be a pity to throw them all away, but if he didn’t want the life that they provided, then that couldn’t be helped
If you’d be blessed with the privilege, you would take him in with open arms, as you’d planned.
“The-en we’ll d-o-o it,” You mumbled with determination, though you were unable to keep the drag of the chill out of your voice, a sluggish stutter that halted your words.
“Hm?” Hiccup seemed slightly surprised
“I’m-m a merchant, Hiccup,” You closed your eyes, nearly cooing, “If-f you asked your Father- with his blessin-ng- Why would I ever nuh-not travel? …let’s go.”
It took you a long, long moment to speak that last bit.
“You mean it?” Hiccup asked, his voice tinged with a new, slight panic.
There was no buzzing, not yet, yet you were welcomed by the murderously slow nothing in your skin as if your limbs had fallen asleep and lost all feeling, everything above and below bone nothing but gummy padding.
You might have tried to press your nails past your skin if you could move your arms, to forcefully test if you really could feel nothing, a primitive, pointless experiment.
The loss, to you, was akin to the flavor of illness; feverish, yet the feeling wasn’t centered in your head, and it was more cold than not.
You struggled to keep up the facade of someone who still had their wits about them
“It’ll be-e… easy work,” You breathed, voice growing weaker by the moment, “We-e-e’d- …We will…. m-make it …happen.”
Satisfied with your answer and the incredible effort you expended in order to say it, you went completely silent.
Hiccup nosed methodically, pressing his mouth to the cartilage behind your lobe, providing you some minor reprieve, his hotter breath dancing over your earlobe and causing you to briefly close your eyes.
You exhaled a breath that must have been pleased, soundless without the energy to make any noise as you went limper.
Your fiance must have said something more but you couldn’t hear it well, consumed by the pleasant feeling of cold leaving your limbs, being sapped from you slowly by what felt like a slow crawl, a cold-hot tingle creeping up your meat, fingers and toes first.
You thought you should be hearing something else, your ears processing sound as if it all was like noise underwater; there was an all-encompassing loud, roaring something from somewhere, which seemed to reverberate around you as you lost track of life, head fuzzy and everything too bright and too neutral at the same time.
Dragon…?
You weren't sure when your eyes fell shut.
You became vaguely aware, floating into semi-consciousness as a light scraping sound filled your ears.
You crinkled your brows and pressed already closed lid together tightly until they hurt, turning over from where you lay flat on your back, pulling the crumpled, frayed end of a blanket with you.
You were aware to a degree of an indistinct radiation of heat to your side, closer to you now that you’d turned over a thin, unfamiliar plush floor, clearly placed over a hard bottom, which you could feel at your shoulder, where you now distributed the majority of your weight.
“Can you get it?” A tired, husky voice grumbled, bordering on nasal, slightly muffled by what must have been fabric.
You knew who it must have been after a moment of slugging processing.
“No, I’m not-... The,” You groaned, shifting under your end of the blanket, much too tired to sacrifice your nice, warm spot under the blanket, “Mmh-dragon master.”
“You’re the uh- dragon- dragon mastri- mistress…?”
You churred deep in your throat, a noise that was uncharacteristically animalistic at the ungainly title. It certainly didn't fit you, not by design.
“No, I am not. I am-” You sighed with displeasure, pursing your lips and furrowing your brows at the ridiculous moniker ,rubbing your face deeper into the thin pillow below your head. It was not nearly plush or comfortable enough to hold you comfortably, stiff in a manner which would most likely prove a problem later when your neck began to ache. However, “I am… Hm… Not… sleeping with them.”
You threw out your foot lazily, mind still pleasantly fogged.
Your vision was still dark as you refused to open your eyes, your movements clumsy as your depth perception was hindered, so the first few jerks of your leg bore no fruit.
Nonetheless, the flat of your foot found your silent fiance, applying a steady, weak pressure as it found its place and rested there.
“Aw- Wh-uh?” Hiccup said you made contact with him and the blanket above you began the shift and the brace of your legs against his back began to very slowly push him over, the muscles in his torso still too sleepy to work against yours.
You whined as Hiccup adjusted slowly, letting your legs fall, the sound of him shifting against fabric loud and grating to your ears.
After he settled, there were a few moments of blessed silence and overwhelming sleep, nearly allowing you to drift back off before the cursed scratching started up again.
“Toothless…” Hiccup ground out groggily.
Then, Hiccup’s unruly dragon started beating against wood, with what was most likely his large, leathery paw, the sound much louder now, door.
Even as his dragon kept making a racket and you struggled frustratedly to snuggle back into the thin, cheap plush below, you’d thought Hiccup had gone back to sleep.
You were still not past the point of turn, however, and had half a mind to do the same, despite the noise, until your fiance tried again, “You’re… sleeping with me…?”
“...‘m not a dragon,” You grumbled, voice breathy.
You felt very glad as you heard your fiance let out a strained groan, the shallow cot dipping and wood beneath him creaking as he must have finally gotten up
“Semantics,” Hiccup groaned as the extra blanketing fell half over your face.
You pulled it over your neck with a coo, even more so comfortable despite the scratchy, sack-like texture of its fabric.
It took you a moment to get up yourself, slowly punching yourself up and shifting until your bare feet touched cool wood, one hand pressed to the cot by your waist and the other rubbing off the crust at the corners of your eyes, listening to the shuffling around for your fiance in the dark room and the quiet grumbling and light-leavy steps of his stealthy dragon.
Eventually, once your eyes were clear and your head felt less sloggy, you looked around, eyes meeting the sturdily nailed sides of stacked wood crates to either side of you.
You weren’t sure how your fiance had kept the crates from falling and crushing you both in your sleep, if he had done anything at all. You prayed he had, even in his worried, threatened state.
Your room was a small area walled off by boxes arranged so that you had privacy and remained well hidden in a large storage chamber, piled high with boxes, mostly filled with weaponry.
All of the hold was wood. After a few days of only that, it was painful to your eyes.
You knew that soon, your fiance would be back from wherever he went with his dragon this time of day.
The events that had led you here- You didn’t remember much of them at all. Not how you got on board, though you knew at the time you had been fading in and out of consciousness, for a while a shivering cold castaway on a foreign ship, a bigger freighter than you had ever seen before.
You remembered flashes of Hiccup, the smooth, slivering form of his dragon below, and then you were inside somewhere.
You were still a bit colder than you should be still, but you had worn off whatever had kept you immobilized for so long. It had been a few days since then and you’d been suitably nursed back to health.
Now, you were surviving off of stolen jerky and exotic dried fruits.
If you were back on your ship, in this weather, you might have been scrambling to make sure you made it out of this situation alive. You hoped your former crewmates were plagued by lack of fresh water and scurvy, that they were struck down and suffered the most painful deaths.
You blinked groggily, slowly, your back hunched, before thinking better of it and dropping back onto the cot; there wasn’t much for you to do otherwise besides bear the chill of the day, not that you were at a point where you wanted to do anything else.
The cold wasn’t so bad aboard ship, though you hadn’t before related when the farmers spoke of sitting up to keep warm with their livestock in sleep, not until you’d experienced a winter as cold as this. You almost asked that Hiccup keep his dragon nearer, the smell of foul fish and flaking dragon leather the only thing keeping you from doing so.
There also wasn’t much to do but hide, so you fell into a casual daily rhythm; sit up, stay quiet, wait for Hiccup to return with his dragon in the morning and the evening, eat what he could scavenge, keeping cautious, restless and tense.
Just laying was something that was fine by you during most moments. There was a peace in it, even if it was sandwiched between times laden without. You wished the same relaxation on your fiance.
Your fiance never took off his prosthetic, even when it was clear you two were safe enough and alone. He was especially on edge, especially considering the cargo held on this ship.
You picked at the frayed old sleeve of your stolen coverings- Hiccup had found a large, warm coat for you, somehow, and some other clothes pieces which you’d spent most of your days huddled up in- bottom lids buzzing, and yet you found you were much too awake to sleep.
You heard his dragon before you heard him, aloft on its back, the subtle yet shifting creaking of wood and thick, almost inaudible padding of calloused leather against wood clear to your bored, practiced ears.
It was unlikely that anyone who didn’t know what they were looking for would hear, your fiance’s steed living up to its terrifying moniker.
There was a very light drop, the sound of a grinding spring and its bounce as his prosthetic beat against the wooden deck, muffled as he could make it.
You waited until Hiccup returned, which he did with little fanfare, seemingly emerging from the darkness seemingly emanating from the entrance to your small crate-stacked room.
The lines of his shoulders, drooped, and his limp arms spoke of his exhaustion as if he’d seen something quite unpleasant. To you, though, he did not seem nearly distraught enough for you to think he’d seen anything nearly as graphic as what you’d come to expect might lay in the other rooms.
It was more likely something else had come to haunt him as he was tending to his dragon.
As he reached the threshold of your cot once more, he turned quickly, bending and falling back against the cot, which shifted with a light puffing noise, cushioning his fall.
“Brought him to the bathroom,” He said in response to your curious eyes, voice stiff, “Not that there is one, here.”
As he crouched, his shoulders were too rigid for him to fall back with any sort of real give or bounce, a slight distention of the cot’s surface.
His breathing was measured, coming in evenly, the sound of it not nearly as deep as it would have been had he been filling his chest to its full capacity.
He’d discovered what sort of ship this was a while back; a dragon trapper’s barge, meaning your travels involved much more dread, danger and intrigue than you would have otherwise typically allowed for yourself.
There was a lot of stifled curiosity on the part of your fiance, a lot of action he couldn’t take, the two of you heavily reliant on this ship to reach freedom. Lying in wait seemed to go against most of his instincts, which you found particularly Vikingly.
However, you knew how to keep your head low and how to hide. It was a blessing you were already attuned to keeping quiet on a packed vessel. This one was traveling in an area you’d never been before. If patience was a virtue, you had plenty, and despite the danger, you were thankful to be alive.
You were thankful for your fiance and for his will to keep you so.
Still, you were incredibly aware of the occasional, barely audible crow and scratch from a place hidden a ways beyond the wooden walls all around, the same walls which kept out all light and had you guessing at the time of day, stuck deep in the bowels of this large ship.
There was the occasional conflict above deck, though they would always abate with startling quickness.
“What are we going to do?” You asked, laying by him, for lack of anything else to say, your hands folded over your stomach just over your blanket, pulled up to your mid-torso, “Today, I meant.”
“We’ll figure it out,” He said.
You knew, though, what might happen if you continued to say nothing.
You gently brought up your arm to the side, feeling for his wrist and holding it, the fabric of his sleeves wrinkling under your touch, much like the half of the blanket and the top layer of your cot on his side of your makeshift bed.
You slowly and carefully turned to your side, your movement invoking Hiccup’s own as he dropped his head towards you.
“We should leave, at the next night we’re able,” You murmured, “We can make our way back after. There may be enough here to fix your fin- and it wouldn’t hurt to wander. ...If, that is, you were serious. About the travel. I have to admit that I don't have many prospects…”
“If I wasn’t?” Hiccup paused, glancing at you, “...I didn’t realize you remembered any of that.”
Hiccup was just in his tunic, now. A worn, slightly dirtied red.
You’d spent a few nights, with your cheek pressed close to his, feeling the rougher scruff that was just beginning to sprout along his jaw, pushing out softer, peachier fuzz.
You weren’t sure what had happened to his leather. You knew it was gone before you’d seen his face the first time deep in the belly of this ship, hands clutching at fabric, fisting and pressing against the skin underneath.
You had debated pulling up close to him, if that would provide a balm to his twinging soul.
“Bits and pieces,” You admitted, nodding your assent, pushing your cheek into your pillow.
He was always cautious here, as was, you admitted to yourself, needed. You appreciated it, and as he was, so were you.
The stress of your situation, though, was clearly pulling him apart. You feared it may cloud his judgment and hurry his hand as you planned your escape from this ship.
You stared up at the ceiling, tall and long-off, incredibly dark as your fiance spoke. “I don’t know if I’d… fit. I mean, I’ve never known how, exactly, to… Negotiate, I guess.”
Your job, then, as you’d decided in that instant, would be to soothe him. Not that it was much of a job with nothing to entertain your mind.
You made your decision and sidled up closer to him until you were sure he could feel your heat against his skin.
He looked back at you with care.
“Half of it is the talk leading up to the trade,” You brushed it aside, speaking quietly, “It’s easier, with practice.”
“No, I know- ‘anyone can do it,’” Hiccup said disagreeably, as if he was quoting someone, turning onto his own side. His father, maybe. “I just…”
His adam's apple bobbed, eyes darting to the side, shadow falling tumultuously across his face, expressing wistful tales of islands and troubles you hadn't ever been quite as well versed in, used to relationships that were of more of a fleeting quality and bonds that were never quite as close as they could have been.
“Not anyone can do it.” You returned, voice soothing, “Not everyone has the eye.”
You hummed, not quite sure how to explain it, not in simple terms. Not quite sure that that was what he needed.
There was also a marked difference between negotiation the way he probably knew it, as the son of a Chief having most likely been coached on negotiating war treaties and other things, and the way you did it, speaking slyly and running circles around others using foreign words.
You shook your head lightly, a bit difficult given your position, the meat of your cheek dragging against heavy cloth.
“It’s not just about persuasion, not only when it comes down to the trade- getting people to want you back,” You mumbled, “That’s the real trick. You can face any number of hurdles, you can have the most unsavory character anyone’s ever seen- but If they want it enough, patrons have a way of making it happen. You usually just need the right good.”
“I don’t know if I’d ever had a…”
“I remember- you took a particular interest in the anatomy books,” You ribbed at him, nudging him with your knuckle lightly, speaking in quiet whispers.
You remembered. It was after he’d become a mighty dragon slayer, when you’d treated him to a tour of your boat.
You never sold them to him, or tried. But you noticed his eyes, dancing across open pages and nude forms.
“I- aha, yeah,” Hiccup shook his head, eyes focused on his legs in fond remembrance, “I… Didn’t realize you noticed that.”
“I expected it,” You huffed, “You were only fifteen.”
“Are you sure?” He mumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching, “I remember you being young, too.”
Your fingers danced over the crook of his arm clumsily as you shifted under the covers.
“You don’t remember my age?” You hummed teasingly as Hiccup furrowed his brows, expression sardonic.
He lifted one hand, shifting fabrics loud in the relative groaning silence and held one side of your face with a warm palm.
He guided it towards his temple, his intention clear; to linger and relish in the press of your foreheads as you had done before, “We’re still young.”
You could have followed his lead, and you would have had you been in any normal state. Instead, following an unusual impulse, you pressed a heated kiss to his mouth instead.
He seemed a bit more lively, then.
As he exhaled, his throat vibrated, sharing a sligh, light groan from somewhere deep in his throat.
“Really?” Hiccup asked, lifting his head out of your reach as you let him free.
The scope of what he was asking was slightly lost on you. You hadn’t planned anything nearly as passionate or intimate as he’d probably been thinking, especially not as you’d made this decision, quick and last minute, but you would play it by ear.
You had been feeling a measure more amorous as of late. Especially since…
You hooked your arm over his waist, tugging at the hem of his tunic until he got the message and shifted, pulling himself over you.
For a brief, slightly unpleasant moment, you were exposed to the cold air, your blankets displaced by Hiccup’s moving body, his knee grazing over your middle and resting on your other side.
You hummed, pulling up your fingers and reaching under the back of his tunic, fingers running against the notches of his spine, then dropped your head back once more, a notable breath’s distance from where it had been, pressed close to Hiccup’s chest.
You had heard his heart pounding audibly then, deep and hurried as you nuzzled -prodded at- the very edge of his clothed chest with the softest part of your forehead.
While he was busy speaking, you pressed your lips to his collarbone, running your tongue along its most extruding part, tasting at slightly salty skin with light, brushing touches.
Hiccup’s next breath was shuddery, the shifting of his hips and the flexing of the muscles in his neck as he swallowed easily exposing his interest.
You could feel his lungs expand and contract, your palm pressed flat to his back.
Your own breathing was fast as you focused hard on his face, your periphery nearly invisible to you as you met with your eyes the few moles on his right cheek, the ones by his chin and the few just next to a faint, tiny scar below his lip.
You focused on the fading freckles across the bridge of his nose, a bit harder to make out under the dim light, the neutral green of his eyes and the lines in his irises as they disappeared, consumed by slowly expanding black pupils as in that moment of rest, Hiccup was finally able to press his forehead to yours, his crinkled brows meeting your own.
With one of your hands teasing the space where shoulder blade turned to spine, tracing the heated muscle there, flexed and stressed under nearly damp skin, and the other lifting from the hem of his pants to rub his side slowly and before then moving up, hooking under his arm so you could tease the long-ish, silk-soft hairs at his nape with your fingertips- he looked utterly debauched.
And it had only been a few kisses.
Hiccup adjusted his arms, then, resting them by the elbows at your sides, his soft eyelids drooping even as his brows were raised with surprise and skepticism.
“Now would be just as good a time as any,” You rolled your vowels and spoke in flats, too occupied to keep managing any sort of accent, bending your knee and shifting it, wiggling it until it met the core of his trousers, coaxing him further.
You paused, nearly out of breath for a few reasons you couldn’t quite name, in the moment just before you could speak again, sure your voice this time would be slightly deeper, prepared to speak in honeyed tones as Hiccup dipped his head, luring a catching breath from your own wet mouth.
You were still slightly weak. You weren’t sure you could do a great deal of running, but that was just fine for everything you had planned.
You tilted your head as he did, bobbing and pressing your nape into the stiff plush of your pillow.
The hairs on the back of your neck tingled in a way that told you they’d stood, prickling just barely against the stiff pillow beneath your head.
It must have been the grief that made everything that much sweeter; and the dread, tickling at your lowermost half.
You knew that this was perhaps an unwise course of action, fondling your fiance while you were in such subtle but immediate peril, though it might have been that the inopportune moment made it feel even more right.
There was so much burning, a tingling that lay over just the topmost layer of your skin by the back of your neck, hotly testing the lobes of your ears.
You panted, exhaling with a whistle that bordered on something much more feeling, inhaling deeply as Hiccup caught your bottom lip with his teeth before and as he pulled away.
It was just a light, accidental bite made just before he himself dipped again, the relaxed flat of his tongue tracing a path across its rim, teasing the wet, slick skin of your inner mouth.
You curled into yourself slightly as you felt it drag and as he separated, which had the odd side effect of pressing you further up into Hiccup.
Testing his luck, you felt tips of his teeth grazing against your earlobe, tracing it on either side just ever so slightly with hard enamel as you buried your head in his shoulder, resisting the urge to jerk as you pulled up your hand, the one you had resting on his back.
As it rose higher, it had the unintentional consequence of tugging up his shirt.
Your hand paused only when it was able to clutch at the top of his shoulder nearly without any real grip.
His breath nearly burned against the place where the soft skin of your ear turned ever softer and slightly more pliant. You didn’t turn your head or lean too much closer in case it smelt like fish, something you’d unfortunately found late in the previous day.
He’d need a bath soon, despite his peculiarly clean state.
You smothered a slightly amused breath, managing to turn it into something low and coy instead.
The fingers of one of your hands gently traced down the skin between his last hair and the collar of his tunic, his back shuddering, before raking your nails quickly, lightly down his side.
You could tell he was startled by the loss of solid contact as your nails drifted over his back as he spent those sparse moments leaning ever so slightly towards the empty, cool space left behind.
He might have spoken just before jerking as you pulled him towards you by the seam of his pants, hooking a finger under the fabric, knuckle brushing against soft belly skin once and then twice and again as you tugged his hips down towards your own.
You didn’t relent in your tugging until he pressed down, arms shaking lightly, pelvis shifting against you, the uneven, nearly urgent, horizontal twitching of his bottom half communicating his grieving need to move and press and mill himself into yours.
You were guilty, in this instance, of building moments and petting his skin as a tribute, a solid, real imitation of a vision you’d dreamed one time or a million.
In your fevered state you’d almost seemed to have lived pyretic, soft words spoken, gripping and prodding and heated ardor as you faded in and out of consciousness.
It was poetry in sliding action, promises of always-meaning-to-haves, and yet-without-he’d-yearneds, as he’d said to you while you were stuck in a deluded, mirage-wrought, fevered haze, storybook platitudes invented by a burdened body breathing through dry lips
It made things smolder within you, riling parts that were more appropriately silenced around good company.
Your delivered, fevered apparitions were in part what had soothed you, kept you complacent below deck as you’d been pulled from illness.
You willed that they also did some measure to soothe your fiance’s internal tumult, especially as the roiling above you grew more frenetic.
Your lips parted in between silent thrusts and hurried groans, Hiccup resting some of his weight back over his elbows, breath pressing against you as he placed his forehead against your collar, panting.
“I… Never thought that- we…” He started, in a way that nearly broke the spirit of the while, like a thin spider’s web, tension added and displaced by a wary, straying finger, “I never thought that this would ever- between the two of us…”
It took you a moment to formulate a response, distracted by the stillness of your hips and the still unwaning burn in your loins.
“You would've had me no matter what,” You stated plainly, in a way you felt was fact. You spoke a bit hurriedly, eager to get back to what you’d been doing before, though you still took the time to turn his words over in your head.
You wrinkled your brows, giving him a look that you felt mirrored the fond feeling blooming in your chest, pressing a dry, chase kiss to the place on his scalp where thick hair gave the illusion of a part and where he smelt slightly of dandruff and sweat, a scent that followed you slightly back to your pillow.
“I really would have, wouldn’t I?” Hiccup asked, lifting his head so the soft, slightly oily tuft of hair bleeding over his forehead ran against your face, before pressing a searing, open-mouthed kiss to yours, pushing down into you again.
You’d intended to tease his upper lip, however you were mildly surprised as his tongue slid messily against yours.
His touch, slick with saliva, sending sparks, sharp, unbearable, needy tingles down the middle of your body, from the bright spot in your chest where they’d been born down to the softest spot of your pelvis as you jerked upwards, gasping at nearly a keen.
Your quiet moment together was quickly and startlingly interrupted by a loud, prolonged grinding noise, nearly indistinguishable from a roar, and then there was a loud scream.
Though you knew better, were now familiar with the desperate screams of the few dragons aquatic enough to be blessed with sonar.
It sent an alarm running through your body, momentarily keeping you from thinking of anything substantial, jerking with sudden movement.
Nothing had ever rung so clearly through thick, sealed timber and large crate walls in all the long hours you’d been locked down here.
The very ground below you seemed to vibrate with the force of it. In fact, it did.
You hadn’t been sure this ship could move so strongly or so suddenly, not with its size and not in this weather, certainly not nearly as violent as what you’d known traveling in far more open waters.
You had both stiffened, and quickly Hiccup pulled himself away, half scrambling to his feet, prosthetic creaking loudly, your soft grip giving under the alarm that had imbued your limbs with momentary weakness.
“I’m going to check it out,” Hiccup said firmly, voice soft and nearly as deep, eyes trained on you, gaze simple.
You returned his gaze with a nod -an accepting one- proceeding the singular push he needed to stand and the few clumsy steps that followed, starting his sure run out from your hide, knowing that his dragon would follow even without signal.
You knew that should he find something wanting, your cover would be blown. You would wait until he gave you the signal to bolt, no matter how facile you felt as a result.
Still, though, you edged towards where your large coat had been hidden. It was just by a large crate behind your cot, placed on the side furthest from the entrance, the only thing besides it in the small, glib space you slept in.
The crate was not a part of the wall but set a few feet behind you like a distant headboard, reaching just above your waist in height.
For a while, you waited in silence, your ears straining as you tried to catch some audible glint of how far Hiccup had gone.
You spent another while -a long while- in silence, unsure of which second was which, one moment blurring into two until the light tapping of steps in the distance revealed you to his position.
He sprinted back quickly, steps loud and ringing without subtlety, which you took to mean that your position had been blown.
However, the loud-quiet calling of your name in frantic whispers, audible to you only as you strained your ears, had you hesitant.
Instead of grabbing your coat as you knew you should, you took a few hurried steps towards the entrance to your hideaway, standing, waiting to greet him.
As he reemerged from the maze of heavily nailed crates, you quickly moved back so he had room to rush in.
You noticed first the new lines of sweat which had quickly budded and started to make their way down his face and the rougher muss of his hair, which you hadn’t thought was possible after your previous intense, passionate encounter.
“There’s… Trouble. Again,” He said quickly, under his breath, speaking words that ran cold in your chest. “ …Someone is releasing the dragons.”
You raised two daunted brows, startled by a loud crashing noise.
Hiccup’s breath was caught quickly by a stern, inhaled hiss and you found yourself stepping back as your fiance turned and backed into you, half intentionally leading you back, his legs crouched and an arm out by his side and in front of one of your sides guardingly.
You stumbled over the cot and in quick succession found yourself thrown back by your own weight.
The wood was cold against your legs, your bottom half not as covered as you would have preferred had you been in any regular situation.
The tight stinging sensation of having fallen back against wood beneath you resonated throughout the meat of your thighs, the sharp corners of the crate behind poking into your back in sharp lines, like a paper folded over the edge of a table, one side hanging off.
The flames of his sword flickered dangerously near the wood walls around the both of you, lighting up the small space with a fuzzy, burning orange clarity.
You had not been certain where he’d had it, if he’d held it as he’d run out or if he’d swiped it as you’d fallen and he’d pressed his back close against your middle, though from the way he’d pulled and triggered the launch of the blade, you thought that it might have been hidden under one corner of your cot.
You waited with tension for a long, long moment before, with the creeping of flat blows against wood, you watched an imposing shadow creep into the frame of the entrance to your hiding place, growing ever so larger as whatever it was grew nearer.
In front of you, it covered half of the space covered by the open doorway. And then it paused.
Hiccup’s body fully over yours, feeling hot where everything else was distressingly cold.
For a moment it was just the heavy, lung-stressed breathing of your fiance that rang out in the emptiness of the hold, highlighted by the faint sounds of battle you must have been able to hear through an open door, nothing having been so clearly heard before.
Into your awareness then arose the dull noise of scraping against wood, the sound hollow and stifled by nature, occasionally highlighted by the just-barely-there rattle of some many small things.
They, the one, whoever it was- they must have followed your fiance back.
Along another pile of crates piled just out of the exit to your hide emerged a thinner shadow, pyrrhic in form, growing and shrinking, long and frightening just before the something-large overtook it.
You saw the beast first.
It was ginormous, not completely visible past the space leading towards the outside, though you could make out muddy gray-brown over corded flesh, the color of wet sand and the other kind, the dry kind that ate limbs and pulled you downwards into the deepest bowels of an ever-pressing hole, the kind people drowned in as their lungs and eyes were filled by heavy grain, impossible pressure all around them.
It had huge horns resembling a helmet or the towering metal fronds of a crown, placed upon its square head so that it looked like some monstrous baron or a shah. They teased the deepest shades of red, seeming to ooze as it crept like blood from an untreated wound, a scab raw and festering with infection along the edges.
Its colors were washed dark in the dim light, yet you could make out an amber underneath ivory, the sap consistent shade oddly mesmerizing against your fiance’s flickering firelit sword and as a foil to the complete and utter destruction ringing from a distance.
Four wicket ivory claws, the kinds hunters sold over foreign markets, scraped at the two pillars of crates on either of its sides.
You were unsure of how many limbs it boasted, though all of them framed the form of a tall figure in front, unbelievably thin, covered in tawdry leather-wrapped armor.
A mask, painted light blue over something darker, adorned its face, eyes like sunken voids, carved deep into its skull.
Its structure was overall insectoid with two outwards-facing mandibles, different and yet in mimic of the classical, draconic representations of foe that wreaked through the archipelago like a disease.
It- the figure- was holding a staff with two hooks on either end made of bone, which must have been what scraped along the floor so petrifyingly. Like hanging spice and bunches of rotting fruit hung small, hollow, jejune bundles of what must have been bone, each small part rattling vaguely against another.
Its stance was oddly composed for a creature dressed so wildly.
Their shadow was thrown over your cautious, cowering form, pressed into the uneven side of a crate to your back, incredibly tense in the wordless silence
You voiced your cautions through wordless sounds in the back of your throat, more exhale than corded vibration.
“Stormcutter,” Hiccup said to you, under his breath, voice deep with warning meant for the intruders in front, his eyes never leaving them, arm pressed further against your middle as he held himself in front and against you, who was nearly completely covered by him.
All of your eyes remained trained stoutly on one another, a loud clash and the sound of metal on metal ringing on a scale of violent proportions sound through the empty air from above, muffled by wood.
There was yelling as the boat rocked violently, Hiccup nearly stumbling onto his side, couched as he was, elbows digging into your sides in an effort to stay pressed in front of you and to keep the blade of his sword an appropriate distance away.
That was until, from the darkness, there rose a rumbling, feral growl, seeming to come from all around, sound thrown as Toothless revealed himself behind you.
He was only discernible to you through the cracking sound of jagged dragon nail scraping against and punching through wood.
An intense buzzing precluded the casting of a sickly purple light lengthening the deepest of shadows in the cracks of the wood around you, an intense crackling emanating from where his maw must have been.
The masked warrior seemed to fall back as the Night Fury spat, his hiss deep and intense and frightening as they brought their arm up warily to shield their chest.
Your fiance’s steed at that instant embodied the myths and legends from back on his home island, an ancient wrath born from hundreds of years of fear, retribution and silent cries from the long lost to fog. Men torn to shreds and abandoned without sign as to what could have led to their demise, stirring up old dread like the feeling of ice biting and numbing at the limbs, like Vikings huddled and shivering in their cabins, cut off from anything else left living as the moonless sky ate lone men, traveling from beyond the horizon and into the treeline.
There was no true way to communicate what the Fury was without words, melted so deeply into the shadows, not without the sightless whistling in the night that was its calling card. Its background became a lost history to the estranged, a tall tale for only scared ears to hear whenever it was out of the sky.
Your attacker paused.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Hiccup nodded at the silent figure wryly. “My name's- none of your business, and that’s…”
He shrugged his shoulder back against you,
“-Don’t tell them my name,” You grumbled, nearly whispering, hands curling around the crumpled tunic sleeve covering his bicep, his shoulder digging nearly uncomfortably into your chest.
Hiccup grunted in response.
An elaborate web of deep throated clucking, the vague shifting of their staff and the pounding of its bottommost hook against the wood in tune with a few dry snaps meant that the large Stormcutter quickly turned from hostile to complacent. Still, you kept a heedful eye on it.
Your fiance coughed awkwardly, “If you could leave us alone, that would be great.”
“...We’re castaways,” You added helpfully, voice even as you narrowed your eyes.
As he spoke, the warrior’s dragon’s throat seemed to undulate, the closest thing it could have to an adam’s apple, a large muscled knot, bobbing quickly up and down, extruding and dipping under its fireproof scaling until the head of it -the beast- jerked forwards, mouth opening and grotesquely regurgitating a tall pile of fish.
A peace offering?
It seemed that the term ‘ruthless’ had been a misnomer as Toothless fell to the wood floor with a heavy beat, his drop causing the muscles in your wrists to flex and tense.
He looked at the pile cautiously, sliding past you looking skin to a large, inky shifting of scale-like darkness before sitting firmly on the floor, cooing at Hiccup with release, deciding unanimously for the two of you that the ship's attackers must not be a threat after all.
You remained stiff until your fiance himself relaxed. You'd had more faith in his judgment than a dragon easily able to be swayed by fish, which was a sort of fallacy, given your fiance himself trusted the instincts of a dragon more than any man’s, even his own.
“Alright, fine,” Your fiance groaned defeatedly, “It’s gang up on Hiccup day today, isn’t it?”
You rubbed your eyes, feeling refreshed as the crowing and chirruping of dragons filled the space around you, shaking away a deep, light yawn, the corners of your mouth stinging with feeling even as they’d tempered and your lips closed.
Shaking off the remnants of your kip, you kneeled in the grass, holding the thin, wide leaf of a fern in your hands, petals brushing against your palm. In a world full of intrigue and strife, here you found yourself more interested in the smaller things.
Between your toes, clovers peeked up at the glassy ice-covered sky, a large, geometric dome that seemed to completely encase everything, filtering in light like you’d imagined, as a kid, how fairies might glow, small and skittish and mean.
The leaves of the plants below, feeling dull yet shining with dew, were damp and tickled at your feet, feeling every so delicate and yet strong.
The feeling sent shivers up your spine, somewhat uncomfortably.
You marveled at it, at how the grass, a few measures further from you, dotted in patches around the field of three-leaved sprouts, seemed to beat, breathing and bowing in tune with everything else in the large main chamber of your fiance’s mother’s Sanctuary.
To your left churred a large yellow dragon with purple spots and an armored belly in lighter, beige tones, sharp metal-like bonemail pumping with its lungs, shoulders flexing, thick lower arms and brutally thin neck covered in scales floundering like sand beneath your feet.
Smaller, multicolored young dragons, some with obscenely large heads for their tiny bodies, waddled by on large feet, nearly too fast for you to make out; green one with orange, blunt, triangular spines, a slow, clumsy red one, eyes big and blue and sad and a much larger purple.
Far, far down below a rainbow gaggle of dragons gathered, crouched over large piles of rocks, sharing intimate touches, standing protectively over what must have been young, or perhaps eggs, which to you tended to not think made much of a difference.
A dragon was just as protective of her clutch as she was of her breathing young, though the same couldn’t be said for anything that hadn’t yet been laid.
From hidden observation, you knew a carrying dragon showed no worry or abandon, fighting and hunting just as actively as any other, though there seemed to be no fighting here.
Still, in that instant you yearned for your spyglass.
You smiled slyly.
The black, saddle-less, featureless form of a dragon bobbing and bowing, swiping playfully at another twice his size, a ginormous dragon with gray skin and imposing red horns in the shape of a ram, so wide and thick they nearly covered its eyes.
It seemed quite annoyed, large bulky feet pounding against first soundlessly from where you stood, large maw bobbing open and closed as if to preclude a roar though none ever came.
You peered around again, the feeling of it filled you with joy as you looked over the array of dragons playing together in the lush greenery of the sanctuary by the main pool, large and deep, which you knew funneled into the ocean.
You were an ant compared to the huge, towering pillars of ice surrounding you. The thin leather draped across your body shifted with you, blowing and moving with a breeze drifting swiftly in from your left, where lay the eye-squinting-ly bright entrance into the giant ice fortress, shining like a sun to your simple light-unadjusted gaze.
You were one of many things here. A singular being, a blade of grass, a heartbeat, one of many limbs, each united by simple needs.
Eventually, when you found it important, and the feeling of damp clover between your toes and against the soles of your feet grew to be too much, you bent slowly, lazily grabbing for your staff, nearly hidden under a canopy of greens.
Its bone hook was ribbed on the inside of its curve, shaped like a hook, both glossy and matte in patches, one of your Fiance’s mother’s old pairs. It had naught but a small bone blade on the other end, a spike you’d found useful in picking apart ice, when you’d been allowed.
You’d gotten no glimpse of the great king ice beast with which you’d felt so connected, but that was just fine. Swept away by your emotions, you felt that in this moment all things had happened as they’d been meant to.
You brushed the hook of it across the grass floor of the sanctuary and scanned the bright green bedding of the cold earth below, searching and yet not at the same time, heart open to the wonder and marvel of the scenery around you.
Your hurriedly padded across the landing, running towards smooth, uneven basalt flooring over worse-feeling moss, uncomfortably fuzz and grabbing and clumped in what you thought to be the worst way, slowing down just in time to step calmly onto stone, the wetness clinging to your soles posing a slight danger now that you were on smooth ground.
You expired, rotating your shoulders in an effort to be rid of your jitters and began your walk towards the geometric columns forming the entrance to your temporary cove-resting-spot.
It was not unlike a large, open cavern hole, an uneven maw lined by even more columns. Hanging vines and moss provided a measure of privacy, acting as some semblance of a curtain.
Though some leaves and other plant bits clung to your feet, you kept at an even pace, perhaps to protect what dignity you had left, mussed and undone as you were as you approached your fiance. You knew that as you stepped over dry land they would fall off as sand did when you moved from beach to inner island.
You scrubbed your feet lightly against stone, hoping to get rid of the last of the unsavory bits clinging to your heels and your left big toe before you pushed aside living curtains.
The knuckle side of your free hand pushed against spindly vines. You were careful not to make too much noise as you padded across the darker space.
It was a cave unlike the one your fiance's mother stayed in, surrounded and protected by hard ice.
Yours had been built by stone and garbed in a moss blanket, ferns and vegetation growing out the cracks between rocks like weeds
There was not a lot of light inside, mostly due to the lack of windows.
It was an area that was much larger than you’d needed, equally as green as the largest connected chamber yet covered more so by moss than anything else.
A small, trickling fall lay at one end, on the side in the back to the left of where you had set your things, pouring from a small hole in a column that was much higher than, most likely, you and Hiccup stacked vertically together.
The stream that flowed beneath it, thin and following a path carved by ancient waters, trickled into a smaller opening in the wall, too small for you to even get a glimpse into the inside even best over on your knees.
Along the rugged wall lining the left side of the cave was where you’d lain your chest.
Your fiance was much too worried to bring any of your things from the ice enclave into the hunter’s ship- he could not manage a chest with you nearly dead from cold- but his mother had been generous enough to find it with direction and quickly carry it back to your dwelling.
Of course she had done it hastefully, as travel was much quicker on the backs of dragons, though you couldn’t help but to watch her as she moved around the two of you, circling like an anxious animal, appeasing and peculiar.
You wondered if that was her way of trying to ameliorate, to compensate for the time she had given up with her son and to earn a small amount of favor from you, his fiance and future spouse.
She seemed, also, incredibly cautious of you and oddly protective of Toothless, who she’d had no prior relationship with, as if you might pose a threat to her sanctuary. It had risen a scale of uneasiness in Hiccup that made their interactions seem distant.
It wasn’t something that worried you. How you took in your fiance’s mother all depended on him. You had no particularly strong feelings on the matter, so at one point you decided you would follow his lead, whatever he chose, until she gave you a reason not to.
If you’d wanted to leave and the two of you had been on good terms, a cheap fare should be enough to get you to Berk, if she flew you far enough. You’d be able to get leather to repair Toothless’ tailfin at almost any port.
Before you lay a new pile of beddings, equally thin as the ones you’d laid with in the bay of the dragon trapper’s ship though this pile was much more comfortable.
Hiccup was still laying under his covers. He was an early riser, though not as early a riser as you, who had also slept deep and stayed under the covers much longer than your internal clock would usually allow.
The only thing covered by a blanket was his waist, though his limbs were thrown about in a way that obscured his face, his body facing his right, legs bent, one pulled in front of the other, an arm thrown across his jaw so that you could see nothing but mussed auburn.
It was out of character for your fiance, who you’d come to know as a still sleeper. The exhaustion and all of the excitement must have affected him deeply, down to the very bone.
His position was slightly different to the one you’d left him in, facing the ceiling though no less spread. It was definitely possible you had woken him up for a moment, or nary even but still long enough to shift, as you’d gone out to take some fresh air, leaving a rustled quilt in your wake, blankets folded over in odd places as you’d thrown them aside.
You strode quietly up to his side. It was the one closest to the edge of his side of the bedding, with his prosthetic sitting simply parallel to the place softer blanket melted into stone, which you could navigate to easiest before carefully stepping over him with one foot.
You hummed lightly again, wordlessly and stood over him, watching him twitch and earring the low grumble of a sleepy grown in his voice as he turned onto his back.
His eyes opened just a sliver, stuck with sleep and limited in motion by the hair that threatened to tickle his lids if he moved too suddenly, before gently, slowly closing again.
“My dear future spouse,” You hummed as you lowered yourself over him, bending your knees until they rested against layered blankets.
Then you slid the rest of you across his body, stilling and resting your weight mostly against his lower middle and leaned forward, pressing your hands over the blankets on both sides of his neck.
After a moment of nothing, you bowed further, mirroring the actions Hiccup had taken just the last day and settling on your elbows.
You let your fingers graze along Hiccup’s cheek, touching him just barely by the tip of your nail, watching the muscles in his jaw stiffen and his eyelids clench lightly as you purposely pressed fully to his chest with your own.
You pulled him away from his feigned sleep with ease, catching relaxed lips by a simple kiss, pulling back and going back for seconds, running your tongue along the inside of his lips just barely and feeling as they finally tensed and pressed back.
When you parted, he chased you up, neck craning to follow as you stayed just barely out of his reach.
His thighs didn’t brace behind you the way they needed to keep him up, which you could feel from your place over his crotch, legs pressed to his sides, which meant that Hiccup dropped back onto your cot with a grunt, unprepared to lift himself up.
He clearly didn’t expect you to pull back so far.
You shifted over his lap again, leaning down again.
He followed you up this time, lured like a fish on a hook, his right hand bracing against the ground behind him, another coming up to weave its way to the back of your head.
After another moment, pulled his right hand from your head and laid it lightly on your thigh in a way that allowed his thumb to feel as if it were just barely tickling the inside of it.
You felt at the soft press of open lips, his chapped in places, mouths rolling against each other as his thumb twitched, feeling as if it was nearly sparking against skin.
As you distributed most of your weight onto your knees, you rotated your hips over his groin in a balmy manner, feeling his hand spasm against your thigh.
Hiccup bucked up slightly, grunting.
“...Am I dreaming?” Hiccup blinked groggily as you parted, your hand by his jaw, the tips of your fingers threaded into russet hair gently guiding his face back.
His voice was slightly husky, clumsy with grogginess, still-dazed eyes quite obviously conveying his confusion yet also showing no real hesitance.
“Your dragon’s causing trouble again,” You said, voice tinged with pleasure, “You’d better get him soon.”
Hiccup groaned, letting himself fall back down with a thick puff, “What does he want?”
“That is for you to figure out,” You spoke with a light laugh, light.
Hiccup shifted into a more comfortable sitting position as you stood up and stepped back over onto stone, shaking off the strain in your legs.
You huffed with amusement, chuckling lowly as Hiccup nearly stumbled, forgetting to pull on his prosthetic as he tried to haul himself up.
You nudged it towards him with your foot.
“Let me get ready,” Hiccup grumbled sourly.
“Don’t forget to send for your father,” You sang, “There’s a lot the few of you need to discuss… And much for you to make up for.”
#httyd#how to train your dragon#x reader#fanfiction#hiccup haddock#hiccup x reader#httyd imagine#gender neutral reader#fem reader
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