Disclaimer: I do not own Rise Of The Guardians, Tangled, Big Hero Six, Brave, How To Train Your Dragon or Twilight.
A/N - Hi everyone, no I'm not dead, sorry for not updating a single story in ages but I've been swapped with studying for my finals which are in six weeks time, but not to worry I'm back with the first chapter of Midnight: Blood Moon, my Frostcup version of Twilight New Moon, with obvious hints at Toothcup. Anyway hope you all stick around for the future chapters and enjoy.
Hiccup's P.O.V:
I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure I was dreaming.
The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight the kind of blinding clear sun that never shone on my drizzly new hometown in Burgess, Washington and second, I was looking at my Grandfather Mildew. Grandad had been dead for six years now, so that was solid evidence toward the dream theory.
Grandad hadn't changed much; his face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Like a dried apricot, but with a puff of thick white hair standing out in a cloud around it.
Our mouths a wizened picker spread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting to see me, either. I was about to ask him a question; I had so many What was he doing here in my cream? What had he been up to in the past six years? Was Gran okay, and had they found each other, wherever they were? but he opened his mouth when I did, so I stopped to let him go first. He paused, too, and then we both smiled at the little awkwardness.
"Hiccup!"
It wasn't Grandad who called my name, and we both turned to see the addition to our small reunion. I didn't have to look to know who it was; this was a voice I would know anywhere now, and respond to, whether I was awake or asleep or even dead, I'd bet. The voice I'd walk through fire for or, less dramatically, slosh every day through the cold and endless rain for.
Jack.
Even though I was always thrilled to see him conscious or otherwise and even though I was almost positive that I was dreaming, I panicked as Jack walked toward us through the glaring sunlight.
I panicked because Grandad didn't know that I was in love with a vampire nobody knew that so how was I supposed to explain the fact that the brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into a thousand rainbow shards like he was made of crystal or diamond?
Well, Grandad you might have noticed that my boyfriend glitters. It's just something he does in the sun. Don't worry about it.
What was he doing? The whole reason he lived in Burgess, the rainiest place in the world, was so that he could be outside in the daytime without exposing his family's secret. Yet here he was, strolling gracefully toward me with the most beautiful smile on his angel's face as if I were the only one here.
In that second, I wished that I was not the one exception to his mysterious talent; I usually felt grateful that I was the only person whose thoughts he couldn't hear just as clearly as if they were spoken aloud. But now I wished he could hear me, too, so that he could hear the warning I was screaming in my head.
I shot a panicked glance back at Grandad and saw that it was too late. He was just turning to stare back at me, his eyes as alarmed as mine.
Jack still smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my chest put his arm around my shoulder and turned to face my grandfather.
Grandad's expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, he was staring at me sheepishly, as if waiting for a scolding. And he was standing in such a strange position one arm held awkwardly away from his body, stretched out and then curled around the air. Like he had his arm around someone I couldn't see, someone invisible.
Only then, as I looked at the bigger picture, did I notice the huge gilt frame that enclosed my grandfather's form. Uncomprehending, I raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Jack's waist and reached out to touch him. He mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it. But where our fingers should have met, there was nothing but cold glass... with a dizzying jolt, my dream abruptly became a nightmare.
There was no Grandad.
That was me. Me in a mirror. Me—ancient, creased, and withered.
Jack stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen.
He pressed his icy, perfect lips against my wasted cheek.
"Happy birthday," he whispered.
I woke with a start—my eyelids popping open wide—and gasped. Dull grey light, the familiar light of an overcast morning, took the place of the blinding sun in my dream.
Just a dream, I told myself. It was only a dream. I took a deep breath and then jumped again when my alarm went off. The little calendar in the corner of the clock's display informed me that today was September thirteenth.
Only a dream, but prophetic enough in one way, at least. Today was my birthday. I was officially eighteen years old.
I'd been dreading this day for months.
All through the perfect summer—the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer anyone anywhere had ever had, and the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsula—this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring.
And now that it had hit, it was even worse than I'd feared it would be. I could feel it—I was older. Every day I got older, but this was different, worse, quantifiable. I was eighteen.
And Jack never would be.
When I went to brush my teeth, I was almost surprised that the face in the mirror hadn't changed. I stared at myself, looking for some sign of impending wrinkles in my ivory skin. The only creases were the ones on my forehead, though, and I knew that if I could manage to relax, they would disappear. I couldn't. My eyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious green eyes.
It was just a dream, I reminded myself again. Just a dream… but also my worst nightmare.
I skipped breakfast, in a hurry to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I wasn't entirely able to avoid my dad, and so I had to spend a few minutes acting cheerful. I honestly tried to be excited about the gifts I'd asked him not to get me, but every time I had to smile, it felt like I might start crying.
I struggled to get a grip on myself as I drove to school. The vision of Grandad —I would not think of it as a sign—but it was hard to get out of my head. I couldn't feel anything but despair until I pulled into the familiar parking lot behind Burgess High School and spotted Jack leaning motionlessly against his polished silver Volvo, like a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan god of beauty. The dream had not done him justice.
And he was waiting there for me, just the same as every other day.
Despair momentarily vanished; wonder took its place. Even after half a year with him, I still couldn't believe that I deserved this degree of good fortune.
His sister Emma was standing by his side, waiting for me, too.
The sight of Emma waiting there—her tawny eyes brilliant with excitement, and a small silver-wrapped square in her hands—made me frown. I'd told Emma I didn't want anything, anything, not gifts or even attention, for my birthday. Obviously, my wishes were being ignored.
I slammed the door of my '53 Chevy truck—a shower of rust specks fluttered down to the wet blacktop—and walked slowly toward where they waited. Emma skipped forward to meet me, her pixie face glowing under her brunette hair which always fell to her shoulders.
"Happy birthday, Hiccup!" "Shh!" I hissed, glancing around the lot to make sure no one had heard her. The last thing I wanted was some kind of celebration of the black event.
She ignored me. "Do you want to open your present now or later?" she asked eagerly as we made our way to where Jack still waited.
"No presents," I protested in a mumble.
She finally seemed to process my mood. "Okay… later, then. Did you like the scrapbook your mom sent you? And the camera from Stoick?" I sighed. Of course, she would know what my birthday presents were. Jack wasn't the only member of his family with unusual skills. Emma would have "seen" what my parents were planning as soon as they decided that themselves.
"Yeah. They're great." "I think it's a nice idea. You're only a senior once. Might as well document the experience." "How many times have you been a senior?" "That's different."
We reached Jack then, and he held out his hand for mine. I took it eagerly, forgetting, for a moment, my glum mood. His skin was, as always, smooth, hard, and very cold. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. I looked into his liquid blue eyes, and my heart gave a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze of its own.
Hearing the stutter in my heartbeats, he smiled again.
He lifted his free hand and traced one cool fingertip around the outside of my lips as he spoke. "So, as discussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday, is that correct?" "Yes. That is correct." I could never quite mimic the flow of his perfect, formal articulation. It was something that could only be picked up in an earlier century.
"Just checking." He ran his hand through his unnatural white hair. "You might have changed your mind. Most people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts." Emma laughed, and the sound was all silver, a wind chime. "Of course you'll enjoy it. Everyone is supposed to be nice to you today and give you your way, Hiccup. What's the worst that could happen?" She meant it as a rhetorical question.
"Getting older," I answered anyway, and my voice was not as steady as I wanted it to be.
Beside me, Jack's smile tightened into a hard line.
"Eighteen isn't very old," Emma said. "Most people usually wait till they're twenty-nine to get upset over birthdays?" "It's older than Jack," I mumbled.
He sighed.
"Technically," she said, keeping her tone light. "Just by one little year, though." And I supposed… if I could be sure of the future I wanted, sure that I would get to spend forever with Jack, and Emma and the rest of the Frosts… then a year or two one direction or the other wouldn't matter to me so much. But Jack was dead set against any future that changed me. Any future that made me like him—that made me immortal, too.
An impasse, he called it.
I couldn't really see Jack's point, to be honest. What was so great about mortality? Being a vampire didn't look like such a terrible thing—not the way the Frosts did it, anyway.
"What time will you be at the house?" Emma continued, changing the subject. From her expression, she was up to exactly the kind of thing I'd been hoping to avoid.
"I didn't know I had plans to be there."Oh, be fair, Hiccup!" she complained. "You aren't going to ruin all our fun like that, are you?"I thought my birthday was about what I want."I'll get him from Stoick's right after school," Jack told her, ignoring me altogether.
"I have to work," I protested.
"You don't, actually," Emma told me smugly. "I already spoke to Mrs. Hamada about it. She's trading your shifts. She said to tell you 'Happy Birthday.'" "I—I still can't come over," I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "I, well, I haven't watched Romeo and Juliet yet for English." Emma snorted. "You have Romeo and Juliet memorised." "But Mr. Berty said we needed to see it performed to fully appreciate it—that's how Shakespeare intended it to be presented." Jack rolled his eyes.
"You've already seen the movie," Emma accused.
"But not the nineteen-sixties version. Mr. Berty said it was the best." Finally, Emma lost the smug smile and glared at me. "This can be easy, or this can be hard Hiccup, but one way or the other—" Jack interrupted her threat. "Relax, Emma. If Hiccup wants to watch a movie, then he can. It's his birthday." "So there," I added.
"I'll bring him over around seven," he continued. "That will give you more time to set up." Emma's laughter chimed again. "Sounds good. See you tonight, Hiccup! It'll be fun, you'll see." She grinned—the wide smile exposed all her perfect, glistening teeth—then pecked me on the cheek and danced off toward her first class before I could respond.
"Jack, please—" I started to beg, but he pressed one cool finger to my lips.
"Let's discuss it later. We're going to be late for class." No one bothered to stare at us as we took our usual seats in the back of the classroom. Jack and I had been together too long now to be an object of gossip anymore. Even Kristoff didn't bother to give me the glum stare that used to make me feel a little guilty. He smiled now instead, and I was glad he seemed to have accepted that we could only be friends. Kristoff had changed over the summer—his face had lost some of the roundness, making his cheekbones more prominent, and he was wearing his pale blond hair a new way; instead of bristly, it was longer and gelled into a carefully casual disarray. It was easy to see where his inspiration came from—but Jack's look wasn't something that could be achieved through imitation.
As the day progressed, I considered ways to get out of whatever was going down at the Frost house tonight. It would be bad enough to have to celebrate when I was in the mood to mourn. But, worse than that, this was sure to involve attention and gifts.
Attention is never a good thing, as any other accident-prone klutz would agree. No one wants a spotlight when they're likely to fall on their face.
And I'd very pointedly asked—well, ordered really—that no one give me any presents this year. It looked like Stoick and Valka weren't the only ones who had decided to overlook that.
I'd never had much money, and that had never bothered me. Valka had raised me on a kindergarten teacher's salary. Stoick wasn't getting rich at his job, either—he was the police chief here in the tiny town of Burgess. My only personal income came from the three days a week I worked at the local cafe. In a town this small, I was lucky to have a job. Every penny I made went into my microscopic college fund. (College was Plan B. I was still hoping for Plan A, but Jack was just so stubborn about leaving me human…) Jack had a lot of money—I didn't even want to think about how much. Money meant next to nothing to Jack or the rest of the Frosts. It was just something that accumulated when you had unlimited time on your hands and a sister who had an uncanny ability to predict trends in the stock market. Jack didn't seem to understand why I objected to him spending money on me—why it made me uncomfortable if he took me to an expensive restaurant in Seattle, why he wasn't allowed to buy me a car that could reach speeds over fifty-five miles an hour, or why I wouldn't let him pay my college tuition (he was ridiculously enthusiastic about Plan B). Jack thought I was being unnecessarily difficult.
But how could I let him give me things when I had nothing to reciprocate with? He, for some unfathomable reason, wanted to be with me. Anything he gave me on top of that just threw us more out of balance.
As the day went on, neither Jack nor Emma brought my birthday up again, and I began to relax a little.
We sat at our usual table for lunch.
A strange kind of truce existed at that table. The three of us—Jack, Emma, and I—sat on the extreme southern end of the table. Now that the "older" and somewhat scarier Frost siblings had graduated, Emma and Jack did not seem quite so intimidating, and we did not sit here alone. My other friends, Kristoff and Honey (who were in the awkward post-breakup friendship phase),Elinor and Tadashi (whose relationship had survived the summer), Wasabi, and Gogo (though that last one didn't really count in the friend category) all sat at the same table, on the other side of an invisible line. That line dissolved on sunny days when Jack and Emma always skipped school and then the conversation would swell out effortlessly to include me.
Jack and Emma didn't find this minor ostracism odd or hurtful the way I would have. They barely noticed it. People always felt strangely ill at ease with the Frosts, almost afraid for some reason they couldn't explain to themselves. I was a rare exception to that rule. Sometimes it bothered Jack how very comfortable I was with being close to him. He thought he was hazardous to my health—an opinion I rejected vehemently whenever he voiced it.
The afternoon passed quickly. School ended, and Jack walked me to my truck as he usually did. But this time, he held the passenger door open for me. Emma must have been taking his car home so that he could keep me from making a run for it.
I folded my arms and made no move to get out of the rain. "It's my birthday, don't I get to drive?"I'm pretending it's not your birthday, just as you wished."If it's not my birthday, then I don't have to go to your house tonight…"All right." He shut the passenger door and walked past me to open the driver's side. "Happy birthday."Shh," I shushed him halfheartedly. I climbed through the opened door, wishing he'd taken the other offer.
Jack played with the radio while I drove, shaking his head in disapproval.
"Your radio has horrible reception." I frowned. I didn't like it when he picked on my truck. The truck was great—it had personality.
"You want a nice stereo? Drive your own car." I was so nervous about Emma's plans, on top of my already gloomy mood, that the words came out sharper than I'd meant them. I was hardly ever bad-tempered with Jack, and my tone made him press his lips together to keep from smiling.
When I parked in front of Stoick's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jaw line.
Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the case—compared with him, at least.
"You should be in a good mood, today of all days," he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across my face.
"And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.
His Ocean eyes smouldered. "Too bad." My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale.
His mouth lingered on mine, cold and smooth and gentle until I wrapped my arms around his neck and threw myself into the kiss with a little too much enthusiasm. I could feel his lips curve upward as he let go of my face and reached back to unlock my grip on him.
Jack had drawn many careful lines for our physical relationship, with the intent being to keep me alive.
Though I respected the need for maintaining a safe distance between my skin and his razor-sharp,venom-coated teeth, I tended to forget about trivial things like that when he was kissing me.
"Be good, please," he breathed against my cheek. He pressed his lips gently to mine one more time and then pulled away, folding my arms across my stomach.
My pulse was thudding in my ears. I put one hand over my heart. It drummed hyper actively under my palm.
"Do you think I'll ever get better at this?" I wondered, mostly to myself. "That my heart might someday stop trying to jump out of my chest whenever you touch me?" "I really hope not," he said, a bit smug.
I rolled my eyes. "Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?" "Your wish, my command." Jack sprawled across the couch while I started the movie, fast-forwarding through the opening credits.
When I perched on the edge of the sofa in front of him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest. It wasn't exactly as comfortable as a sofa cushion would be, what with his chest being hard and cold—and perfect—as an ice sculpture, but it was definitely preferable. He pulled the old afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over me so I wouldn't freeze beside his body.
"You know, I've never had much patience with Romeo," he commented as the movie started.
"What's wrong with Romeo?" I asked, a little offended. Romeo was one of my favourite fictional characters. Until I'd met Jack, I'd sort of had a thing for him.
"Well, first of all, he's in love with this Rosaline—don't you think it makes him seem a little fickle? And then, a few minutes after their wedding, he kills Juliet's cousin. That's not very brilliant. Mistake after mistake. Could he have destroyed his own happiness any more thoroughly?" I sighed. "Do you want me to watch this alone?" "No, I'll mostly be watching you, anyway." His fingers traced patterns across the skin of my arm, raising goose bumps. "Will you cry?" "Probably," I admitted, "if I'm paying attention." "I won't distract you then." But I felt his lips on my hair, and it was very distracting.
The movie eventually captured my interest, thanks in large part to Jack whispering Romeo's lines in my ear—his irresistible, velvet voice made the actor's voice sound weak and coarse by comparison. And I did cry, to his amusement, when Juliet woke and found her new husband dead.
"I'll admit, I do sort of envy him here," Jack said, drying my tears with his hand.
"She's very pretty." He made a disgusted sound. "I don't envy him the girl—just the ease of the suicide," he clarified in a teasing tone. "You humans have it so easy! All you have to do is throw down one tiny vial of plant extracts…"What?" I gasped.
"It's something I had to think about once, and I knew from North's experience that it wouldn't be simple. I'm not even sure how many ways North tried to kill himself in the beginning… after he realised what he'd become…" His voice, which had grown serious, turned light again. "And he's clearly still in excellent health."I twisted around so that I could read his face. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do you mean, this something you had to think about once?" "Last spring, when you were… nearly killed…" He paused to take a deep breath, snuggling to return to his teasing tone. "Of course I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was making contingency plans. Like I said, it's not as easy for me as it is for a human."
For one second, the memory of my last trip to Berk washed through my head and made me feel dizzy.
I could see it all so clearly—the blinding sun, the heat waves coming off the concrete as I ran with desperate haste to find the sadistic vampire who wanted to torture me to death. Dagur, waiting in the Judo Studio with my mother as his hostage—or so I'd thought. I hadn't known it was all a ruse. Just as Dagur hadn't known that Jack was racing to save me; Jack made it in time, but it had been a close one. Unthinkingly, my fingers traced the crescent-shaped scar on my hand that was always just a few degrees cooler than the rest of my skin.
I shook my head—as if I could shake away the bad memories—and tried to grasp what Jack meant.
My stomach plunged uncomfortably. "Contingency plans?" I repeated.
"Well, I wasn't going to live without you." He rolled his eyes as if that fact were childishly obvious. "But I wasn't sure how to do it—I knew Snoutlout and Bunnymund would never help… so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi."
I didn't want to believe he was serious, but his ocean eyes were brooding, focused on something far away in the distance as he contemplated ways to end his own life. Abruptly, I was furious.
"What is a Volturi?" I demanded.
"The Volturi are a family," he explained, his eyes still remote. "A very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. North lived with them briefly in his early years, in Italy, before he settled in America—do you remember the story?" "Of course I remember." I would never forget the first time I'd gone to his home, the huge white mansion buried deep in the forest beside the river or the room where North—Jack's father in so many real ways—kept a wall of paintings that illustrated his personal history.
Though the painting was centuries old, North—the blood angel—remained unchanged.
"Anyway, you don't irritate the Volturi," Jack went on. "Not unless you want to die—or whatever it is we do." His voice was so calm, it made him sound almost bored by the prospect.
My anger turned to horror. I took his marble face between my hands and held it very tightly.
"You must never, never, never think of anything like that again!" I said. "No matter what might ever happen to me, you are not allowed to hurt yourself!"I'll never put you in danger again, so it's a moot point."Put me in danger! I thought we'd established that all the bad luck is my fault?" I was getting angrier.
"How dare you even think like that?" The idea of Jack ceasing to exist, even if I were dead, was impossibly painful.
"What would you do, if the situation were reversed?" he asked.
"That's not the same thing." He didn't seem to understand the difference. He chuckled.
"What if something did happen to you?" I blanched at the thought. "Would you want me to go off myself?" A trace of pain touched his perfect features.
"I guess I see your point… a little," he admitted. "But what would I do without you?"
"Whatever you were doing before I came along and complicated your existence." He sighed. "You make that sound so easy." "It should be. I'm not really that interesting." He was about to argue, but then he let it go. "Moot point," he reminded me. Abruptly, he pulled himself up into a more formal posture, shifting me to the side so that we were no longer touching.
"Stoick?" I guessed.
Jack smiled. After a moment, I heard the sound of the police cruiser pulling into the driveway. I reached out and took his hand firmly. My dad could deal with that much.
Stoick came in with a pizza box in his hands.
"Hey, kids." He grinned at me. "I thought you'd like a break from cooking and washing dishes for your birthday. Hungry?"Sure. Thanks, Dad." Stoick didn't comment on Jack's apparent lack of appetite. He was used to Jack passing on dinner.
"Do you mind if I borrow Hiccup for the evening?" Jack asked when Stoick and I were done.
I looked at Stoick hopefully. Maybe he had some concept of birthdays as stay-at-home, family affairs—this was my first birthday with him, the first birthday since my mom, Valka, had remarried and gone to live in Florida, so I didn't know what he would expect.
"That's fine—the Mariners are playing the Sox tonight," Stoick explained, and my hope disappeared.
"So I won't be any kind of company… Here." He scooped up the camera he'd gotten me on Valka's suggestion, and threw it to me.
He ought to know better than that—I'd always been co-ordinationally challenged. The camera glanced off the tip of my finger and tumbled toward the floor. Jack snagged it before it could crash onto the linoleum.
"Nice save," Stoick noted. "If they're doing something fun at the Frosts' tonight, Hiccup, you should take some pictures. You know how your mother gets—she'll be wanting to see the pictures faster than you can take them."Good idea, Stoick," Jack said, handing me the camera.
I turned the camera on Jack and snapped the first picture. "It works." "That's good. Hey, say hi to Emma for me. She hasn't been over in a while." Stoick's mouth pulled down at one corner.
"It's been three days, Dad," I reminded him. Stoick was crazy about Emma. He'd become attached last spring when she'd helped me through my awkward convalescence; Stoick would be forever grateful to her for saving him from the horror of an almost-adult son who needed help showering. "I'll tell her." "Okay. You kids have fun tonight." It was clearly a dismissal. Stoick was already edging toward the living room and the TV.
Jack smiled, triumphant, and took my hand to pull me from the kitchen.
When we got to the truck, he opened the passenger door for me again, and this time, I didn't argue. I still had a hard time finding the obscure turnoff to his house in the dark.
Jack drove north through Burgess, visibly chafing at the speed limit enforced by my prehistoric Chevy.
The engine groaned even louder than usual as he pushed it over fifty.
"Take it easy," I warned him.
"You know what you would love? A nice little Audi coupe. Very quiet, lots of power…"There's nothing wrong with my truck. And speaking of expensive nonessentials, if you know what's good for you, you didn't spend any money on birthday presents."Not a dime," he said virtuously.
"Good." "Can you do me a favour?" "That depends on what it is."
He sighed, his lovely face serious. "Hiccup, the last real birthday any of us had was Snoutlout's in 1935. Cut us a little slack, and don't be too difficult tonight. They're all very excited." It always startled me a little when he brought up things like that. "Fine, I'll behave." "I probably should warn you…" "Please do." "When I say they're all excited… I do mean all of them."
"Everyone?" I choked. "I thought Snoutlout and Rapunzel were in Africa." The rest of Burgess was under the impression that the older Frosts had gone off to college this year, to Dartmouth, but I knew better.
"Snoutlout wanted to be here." "But… Rapunzel?" "I know, Hiccup. Don't worry, she'll be on her best behaviour." I didn't answer.
Like I could just not worry, that easy. Unlike Emma, Jack's other sister, the golden blond and exquisite Rapunzel, didn't like me much. Actually, the feeling was a little bit stronger than just dislike. As far as Rapunzel was concerned, I was an unwelcome intruder into her family's secret life.
I felt horribly guilty about the present situation, guessing that Rapunzel and Snoutlout's prolonged absence was my fault, even as I furtively enjoyed not having to see her, Snoutlout, Jack's playful bear of a brother, I did miss. He was in many ways just like the big brother I'd always wanted… only much, much more terrifying.
Jack decided to change the subject. "So, if you won't let me get you the Audi, isn't there anything that you'd like for your birthday?" The words came out in a whisper. "You know what I want."
A deep frown carved creases into his marble forehead. He obviously wished he'd stuck to the subject of Rapunzel.
It felt like we'd had this argument a lot today.
"Not tonight, Hiccup. Please."Well, maybe Emma will give me what I want." Jack growled—a deep, menacing sound. "This isn't going to be your last birthday, Hiccup," he vowed.
"That's not fair!" I thought I heard his teeth clench together.
We were pulling up to the house now. A bright light shined from every window on the first two floors. A long line of glowing Japanese lanterns hung from the porch eaves, reflecting a soft radiance on the huge cedars that surrounded the house. Big bowls of flowers—pink roses—lined the wide stairs up to the front doors.
I moaned.
Jack took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "This is a party," he reminded me. "Try to be a good sport." "Sure," I muttered.
He came around to get my door and offered me his hand.
"I have a question." He waited warily.
"If I develop this film," I said, toying with the camera in my hands, "will you show up in the picture?" Jack started laughing. He helped me out of the car, pulled me up the stairs, and was still laughing as he opened the door for me.
They were all waiting in the huge white living room; when I walked through the door, they greeted me with a loud chorus of "Happy birthday, Hiccup!" while I blushed and looked down at my prosthetic leg, I had finally gotten walking down, but running seemed somewhat impossible now. Emma, I assumed, had covered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. There was a table with a white cloth draped over it next to Jack's grand piano, holding a chocolate birthday cake, more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents.
It was a hundred times worse than I'd imagined.
Jack, sensing my distress, wrapped an encouraging arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head.
Jack's parents, North and Tooth—impossibly youthful and lovely as ever—were the closest to the door. Tooth hugged me carefully, her soft, multi-coloured hair brushing against my cheek as she kissed my forehead, and then North put his arm around my shoulders.
"Sorry about this, Hiccup," he stage-whispered. "We couldn't rein Emma in."
Rapunzel and Snoutlout stood behind them. Rapunzel didn't smile, but at least she didn't glare. Snoutlout's face was stretched into a huge grin. It had been months since I'd seen them; I'd forgotten how gloriously beautiful Rapunzel was—it almost hurt to look at her. And had Snoutlout always been so… big?
"You haven't changed at all," Snoutlout said with mock disappointment. "I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always."Thanks a lot, Snoutlout," I said, blushing deeper.
He laughed, "I have to step out for a second"—he paused to wink conspicuously at Emma—"Don't do anything funny while I'm gone."
"I 'll try."
Emma let go of Bunnymund's hand and skipped forward, all her teeth sparkling in the bright light. Bunnymund smiled, too, but kept his distance. He leant, against the post at the foot of the stairs. During the days we'd had to spend cooped up together in Berk, I'd thought he'd gotten over his aversion to me. But he'd gone back to exactly how he'd acted before—avoiding me as much as possible—the moment he was free from that temporary obligation to protect me. I knew it wasn't personal, just a precaution, and I tried not to be overly sensitive about it. Bunnymund had more trouble sticking to the Frosts' diet than the rest of them; the scent of human blood was much harder for him to resist than the others—he hadn't been trying as long.
"Time to open presents," Emma declared. She put her cool hand under my elbow and towed me to the table with the cake and the shiny packages.
I put on my best martyr face. "Emma, I know I told you I didn't want anything—"But I didn't listen," she interrupted, smug. "Open it." She took the camera from my hands and replaced it with a big, square silver box.
The box was so light that it felt empty. The tag on top said that it was from Snoutlout, Rapunzel, and Bunnymund.
Self-consciously, I tore the paper off and then stared at the box it concealed.
It was something electrical, with lots of numbers in the name. I opened the box, hoping for further illumination. But the box was empty.
"Um… thanks." Rapunzel actually cracked a smile. Bunnymund laughed. "It's a stereo for your truck," he explained. "Snoutlout's installing it right now so that you can't return it."
Emma was always one step ahead of me. "Thanks, Bunnymund, Rapunzel," I told them, grinning as I remembered Jack's complaints about my radio this afternoon—all a setup, apparently.
"Thanks, Snoutlout!" I called more loudly.
I heard his booming laugh from my truck, and I couldn't help laughing, too.
"Open mine and Jack's next," Emma said, so excited her voice was a high-pitched trill. She held a small, flat square in her hand.
I turned to give Jack a basilisk glare. "You promised." Before he could answer, Snoutlout bounded through the door. "Just in time!" he crowed. He pushed in behind Bunnymund, who had also drifted closer than usual to get a good look.
"I didn't spend a dime," Jack assured me. He ruffled my hair, leaving me tingling from his touch.
I inhaled deeply and turned to Emma. "Give it to me," I sighed.
Snoutlout chuckled with delight.
I took the little package, rolling my eyes at Jack while I stuck my finger under the edge of the paper and jerked it under the tape.
"Shoot," I muttered when the paper sliced my finger; I pulled it out to examine the damage. A single drop of blood oozed from the tiny cut.
It all happened very quickly then.
"No!" Jack roared.
He threw himself at me, flinging me back across the table. It fell, as I did, scattering the cake and the presents, the flowers and the plates. I landed in the mess of shattered crystal.
Bunnymund slammed into Jack, and the sound was like the crash of boulders in a rock slide.
There was another noise, a grisly snarling that seemed to be coming from deep in Bunnymund's chest. Bunnymund tried to shove past Jack, snapping his teeth just inches from Jack's face.
Snoutlout grabbed Bunnymund from behind in the next second, locking him into his massive steel grip, but Bunnymund struggled on, his wild, empty eyes focused only on me.
Beyond the shock, there was also the pain. I'd tumbled down to the floor by the piano, with my arms thrown out instinctively to catch my fall, into the jagged shards of glass. Only now did I feel the searing, stinging pain that ran from my wrist to the crease inside my elbow.
Dazed and disoriented, I looked up from the bright red blood pulsing out of my arm—into the fevered eyes of the six suddenly ravenous vampires.
A/N - Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of this new story, I promise I'll try and update as soon as possible. Anyways how you all enjoyed and have a nice day.