Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third was the chief of Berk.
There were days, almost all of them to be honest, when he doubted that he was worthy of it. More worthy than Snotlout yes, but was that really saying much? Whatever his personal fears might've been however, he was next in line for the mantle as his father; the great Stoick the Vast had recently died. Now, there was that familiar lump in his throat as the job fell to Hiccup.

The days had settled into some sense of a routine now. However; he would leave the house early after eating some fish or bread his mother had cooked. Cooked as in heated up, without adding any of her "special" sauces or spices and then venture out into the village. He solved quarrels, assisted with trade, fixed problems and organized events for the people to whom were his duty to protect. He helped wherever it was needed and in return, they gave back to him. It helped that the people for the most part, were all kind and supportive of him. Thank goodness Mildew had long since been extradited to the Outcasts. There were none who missed him on Berk.
His closest support came from the dragon riders, loyal to a fault. For years, they had protected Berk from all manner of treacherous individuals and helped build the new world in which they lived in. Fishlegs was never without information and facts, Snotlout may have matured significantly but his cocky tone and brutish ways still endured. The twins Ruff and Tuff were no less if not more destructive, though they held their hands reserved for best of times. Heather, the latest member of their troupe was fierce, focused but absent in recent times dealing with the long aftermath of Viggo Grimborn's armada.

Then of course, there was Astrid. All around the village Hiccup couldn't get away from her, yet couldn't get enough of her. Here she was reprimanding the twins again, there she was clearing ice, remnant of Drago Bludvist's merciless assault. Somehow she managed to make everything look easy; no movement, position, outfit or hairstyle was unflattering. It wasn't like the last two changed that often anyways. Hiccup watched her hands as they worked with delicate care or powerful force; he couldn't help but imagine how her left would look bearing a ring of the shiniest silver.

For this was the last part of the day. At night, after everything was done and he ignored the painful complaints that he'd been on his foot too much, Hiccup would go to the forge. Gobber never minded, sometimes he would stay awake and talk. They talked about the repairs on the village, accommodation for the new dragons and funny things from the day were there any. Though that usually ended up being something the twins had done.
Gobber tried to talk about Astrid to furious, blushing silence. They talked about experiences they'd had in common, winter aches on their limbs and so forth. But usually they talked about Stoick. His strength, his kindness, his faith and love for his son. The rare happiness in those few glowing moments when he had his whole family with him. The story of just how crestfallen he'd been when he learned that his son might never walk again.

And Hiccup would work. Sometimes on a new contraption, often on the finely wrought bands of shining silver that he was gradually twisting like vines into a ring. Occasionally it would be a weapon he worked with, or even a slight modification to the prosthetic when he could find something to sit on. Gobber would often just watch, give him tips, or fall asleep. His rhythmic snoring fell into time with the strikes of the hammer, each light blow a step towards the moment Hiccup knew he had to find. It would be soon, but when? When, in all his busy days and when Astrid was always at work?

After all of this Hiccup would go home, imagining a warm female silhouette next to him. Not yet, you coward, he thought. It was past time for the question to be asked, a warm feeling spread from his head to all five toes every time he saw her. He'd lost count of their kisses in secret corners of the village or the back room of the forge. Hiccup knew the village was waiting. Waiting for him. Waiting for a celebration, an escape from the icy reality that they were slowly repairing. He always fell asleep with these thoughts in his mind, and woke up with no more answers than the night before.

This particular day, Hiccup was standing in the center of the village, working out an argument between two men and trying to keep them from slapping each other with fish. Just as he worked out who was in the wrong and was about to give a fish to the other, there was a squawk from overhead.
"Terror Mail for the Chief!" someone yelled.
Hiccup handed the fish absentmindedly to the innocent man, then turned and extended his arm, upon which the little dragon alighted.
His eyes scanned the parchment in search of a signature and then Astrid was there, at his side quicker than Gobber confronted with soap. Hiccup relished the warmth of her hip against his side, the casual brushing of hands. A hand that one day he hoped, would bear his ring. Pulling his thoughts away from Astrid, Hiccup read the message again. A look of surprise registered on his face. "It's from Heather", he announced to general surprise and confusion. "She's in trouble!"

Authors Notes:
Mykahannah11

Hello all my lovely dragon riders! I have never collaborated on a story before, so I am very excited. I really hope you liked the first chapter.

Smoe05
So this is an interesting and unique experience for sure. Like Mykahannah11, I'm only just starting out, having only joined on the eve of 2017. I never thought I'd be collaborating on a story, let alone so soon and with someone halfway around the world. :O
That's what is incredible though, from the very start I couldn't help but notice how incredible and supportive the community is. It was also where I could finally talk about HTTYD freely :D. I've met so many wonderful people, so thank you.
So there it is, the first chapter of Past and Present. The original story ideas, plans, concepts belong to Mykahannah11. I just work here. :P