A/N So, here's the story I promised myself to make oh, so long ago. Well, not this one specifically, but you get the idea. I always hoped I would write a HTTYD story, and, well, here we are! But, before we get started, here's some notes.

1: Toothless will be female. I always liked the idea that Toothless could be female, because it changes little, yet seems to balance things more. It enables a Female/Male friendship that media, and, heck, even fanfiction, rarely portrays. Sadly, I will be screwing up the friendship bit, just like everyone else.

I'm terrible.

2. This fanfic is based after the first movie. In this story, a month or so has passed since the red death was killed. I have seen the second movie, but that will come later.

3. Most of all the Viking lore I found was... Iffy. While there is some records of their forms of Marriage and others, most of them I found are from mainland Scandinavian vikings, and, are not only mostly assumptions based off of small amounts of evidence, but also state that they are not Icelandic, where Berk is most likely located, Which had apparently a lot of different customs. That fact makes most of what I found Null and void. I wanted to use actual history, But most of it I can't really use, and is likely inaccurate, so I think I'll just make a mashpash of what I can find laying around. Forgive me if I screw it up.

4. I will be using multiple views. Expect 1st and 3rd person views. I will list who it is, unless you're supposed to figure it out on your own.

Well, with that stated, let's get started!


Berk was...

Berk. Nothing in Berk could ever be considered... normal. The weather, one of the most dependable things in existence, for most places, insisted on being cold when it should be in the middle of a nice and toasty summer, and when it should've been cold and miserable, the sun would come out, melt all the snow, and forced you to get to the mead hall in a rowboat. When the sun was out, shining in all it's glory, rain would fall from absolutely... Nothing. And, once a month, the streets ran red with blood, although nobody ever talked about that one. The livestock tended to be as wild as the forest around them, and sometimes craved the flesh of the innocent, regardless if they even ate meat, and the pets, somehow wilder, sometimes insisting in their own way, that tonight, you. And the people...

"YARG!"

Well, it was safe to call them 'Bat crap loony'. Here in Berk, when the vikings, what most of the residents called themselves, wanted to do something, they did it. Eat Mr. freckles, the village cat? Ate, didn't even get the chance to threaten their existence, like he was want to do. Learn to spit fire? They'd find out a way, even if they somehow managed to give themselves flaming... yeah, in the process. Party? Well... A viking party was...

*CRASH*

Destructive. After all, how couldn't it be, with several dozen, or sometimes, hundreds, of several hundred pound meat-heads flailing around after drinking enough mead to kill half a city? We 'Berkians' were just lucky everything was built disposable. You smashed a cart, or a house, well, nothing but a half hour's woodworking was lost.

*SMASH*

However, that didn't mean they would just get away with breaking someone's cart. No, that right was reserved for Berk's somehow even more destructive patrons.

Dragons.

Dragons, the once mortal enemies of Berk, eaters of sheep and man, and, officially, Mr. Freckles. Turns out, giant, flying, fire breathing, and, sometimes ill-tempered, lizards made the perfect Viking pets. They could help hunt, by, well, hunting, Could help fish by the same, could keep the house warm by using their sometimes ill aimed fire breath, (Dragons were still the number one cause of home loss in berk) and they could even watch over children surprisingly well, with only a few... 'Minor' maulings so far. (Which was considerably less then if a Viking watched them) However, for everything they did perfect, like 'killing' Mr. Freckles, (He was not well liked) they did something, well, not-so-perfect.

For example, through a coincidence that Loki himself had to be responsible for, Dragons shared most Viking's taste for the bubbly. And while it took a bit more for them to get truly viking drunk, (which was a feat in itself) that didn't stop them from desperately drinking alcohol like it was the cure to a very bad itch.

For example, that Midnight black Lizard attempting her absolute hardest to line dance was... well, she was mine. She was the latest of our Dragons to finally succumb to the drink, and, admittedly, she had certainly gone out with style. (I don't think I've ever seen anything, Dragon or Viking, out drink Gobber in terms of speed, even if she ended up on the far worse end of it.)

As for me? Well...

The night was young.


"Hiccup!"

Before the young man could possibly react, Such as yell loudly, or scream like a three year old, A very large lump of meat by the name of Gobber sat down heavily beside him. He lacked one leg and one arm, and, instead, had a hook and a Peg leg.

"Have a drink, it's not everyday yer named a folk hero."

Hiccup smiled weakly at the elder Viking's words. Couldn't a young, angsty teen mope in peace, without being told to dive into the drink? He wanted to get there himself, thank you very much. "Yeah, but, I mean, look at everyone. A month ago, I was just a screw up. Now? I'm a 'hero'. I didn't even do much. Just tamed some apparently alcoholic dragons, who wipe out our mead supply once a week."

Gobber smiled a bit, before waving his real, yet somehow still hookish, hand, gesturing to the rowdy party goers. "Yeah, you didn' do much. Ya just tamed a nigh' fury, stopped a war, and got us some scaly and fiery new toys. Not much there, nope." Before Hiccup could respond, he had a tankard thrust into his small hands. "So, have a drink. Yer Dragon has the right idea, although... She's... Aw, come-on now, is that supposed to be a line dance, PUT YER HIPS INTO IT!"

Before Hiccup could question what Gobber meant, the large man stomped off in the direction he assumed his dragon was 'dancing' in, no doubt to give her a lesson in the art of the dance which was, Ironically, Gobber's specialty. In his opinion, Toothless had the grace of a blind, one legged drunk when she danced when sober, let alone after a barrel and a half of mead. He shuddered to think of the travesty she was making now. Small, terrified and crying children come to mind.

Strange, for such a graceful dragon, she was a God's awful dancer. Not even Odin could help her. Nor would he ever try.

Hiccup couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought of Odin line-dancing in example, and looked down to the tankard in his hand. It was filled to the brim with who knows, but it certainly couldn't hurt to drink a bit.

After all, jumping head first was the Viking way.

So, without any question of the possible consequences of downing a tankard full of some unknown alcohol, he tried to chug it.

And it immediately felt like burning. After forcing half the tankard down, he was forced to stop by his own coughing and sputtering, and he quickly dropped the half filled tankard on the ground, and his stomach continued it's attempt to banish the painful substance he forced down his gullet. As he gagged, a large shadow grew near. "Ah, so that's where me scotch went."

After another moment of coughing and retching, Hiccup gave Gobber a half hearted glare. "You gave *Cough* Gave me scotch?"

"Aye. Well, I didn' mean to, if that's what yer askin'. I was thinkin' my last tankard felt a wee bit weak."

Hiccup continued to glare, before sitting down. While the fact that Gobber managed to down a tankard in the short amount of time they were apart, it didn't help his situation. Which was the fact that he drank half a pint of whiskey. "I'm feelin' woozy.."

Gobber simply nodded sagely. "Well, that'd be the half pint of scotch yeh just drank. If yeh are anythin' like yer father, Well... Heh, I hope yer not."

Hiccup simply groaned, and sat there, feeling his higher brain functions slowly drift away into the warm tides of alcohol, along with his dying question as to why he shouldn't be like his father. "So, while yer drunk, er, gettin' there, go have some fun! Dance with Astr- wait, she's not here. Umm... Ruffnut, or some other lass. I mean, there's not many close to yer age, but there's some older gals that might want a toothpick."

Hiccup simply nodded, although he didn't get much besides dance, and lass. He slowly managed to force himself onto his feet, his balance shot, and he slowly shuffled in the direction of the dancing party goers, much akin to half the mead hall.

But, before he could get closer to the stumbling group of... Dancers, he was bowled over by a large Black... Thing.

And, before he could bring his addled brain to respond, Hiccup quickly found himself pinned to the ground by a very affectionate dragon.


*Toothless*

"Hiccup~! Hiccup~, hiccup-hiccup-hiccup Hiccup!"

I was happy. No, I was ecstatic. And I had every reason to be, after all. I had the best friend in the whole wide world, one who, after he admittedly shot me down, made me able to fly again, and, after that, we ended up killing the queen. And, if that wasn't enough, He gave not only me a new nest, but a nest to several others of the queen's thrall. Because of that, I had my own living space, free food, and someone to spend it with.

Plus, the Viking's preferred drink was good as well.

*Hiccup*

No, scratch that, it was Amazing.

So, when I saw my Viking, I pounced on him. I couldn't help but drag my somewhat numb tongue across his face several times, and give him a small nuzzle. Alright, maybe it was more of a full body cuddle then a nuzzle, but I felt awfully clumsy recently, and I wasn't going to risk my fishbone with an accidental squishing because I couldn't hold myself upright.

Maybe the Viking beverage had something that made me like this?

Nah. I mean, who would intentionally make themselves clumsier? Not even Vikings, the very best of the dragons when it came to survival, would do something that risky. I mean, they're good, but to intentionally poison their own kind to make it harder on themselves?

That's madness.

So, after I forced myself off of him, I nudged him a bit. "Hiccup? Let's play!"

After I said that, I froze. Play? A full grown Dragoness does not play. Maybe they'd goof around, But playing was for hatchlings, Which I, and probably Hiccup, were certainly not. I'm pretty sure we're close to the same age.

"Huh? Tooth-toothless? Ya wanna... Do somethin'?"

Great. Now he's sounding like Gobber. I really need to keep him from the forge more often.

My Fishbone slowly drug himself to his feet. "So...Uh, Tag!"

Before I could do anything, he clumsily scampered off in the opposite direction, nearly falling over as he did so. Well, if he started it...

I immediately gave chase, nearly knocking over several vikings, a chair, a table, Gobber, Snoutlout, One of the twins, and, well, Meatlug.

Hiccup, bless his skinny hide, managed to keep ahead of me enough where I couldn't really catch him. After what felt like a full minute of chasing, he fell over, fifteen feet from where he started.

I quickly pounced, landing on top of him. I gave him a large lick, and he laughed. "Heh! Tooth, stop!"

I gave him one of my smiled, and laid down beside him. "So... Toothless?"

I mumbled a small acknowledgment. "Have yeh ever thought... What it would be like if we... never met?"

I froze for a second, and thought about it. No Hiccup?

"Nah, and I don't want to."

But before I could continue, my stomach growled. "Heh, hungry, Tooth?" And, admittedly, I was. All of this chasing after fishbones was making me hungry. Especially seeing as I couldn't eat them.

Hiccup would probably taste good.

I simply nodded. My little Viking would find me something to eat.


Hiccup, for what it was worth, did find some food. After all, it was a party, there had to be something to eat, lest the Vikings find something to eat. Which usually included the local livestock.

However, as fate, the cruel, sadistic mistress that it was, would have it, he also found more mead. After several more mugs for the two of them, Toothless found herself wandering around, pouncing, (And missing) on anything she could, and Hiccup found himself fiddling with a small ring.

Snotlout, one of the residents of the food table, and one that was not known for his ability to be subtle in any form or fashion, even when not under the heavily influence of the drink, quickly questioned Hiccup new found jewelry. "Hey... Hey Hippup~, Whatchyer, whatya got there?"

Hiccup blankly looked from the ring, to Snotlout, before smiling slightly. "It's me mom's... weddin' ring. Dad gave it to me... for killin' the dragon. Said... said he was proud... He never said that before..." He mumbled quietly.

Snotlout smiled, not hearing the last bit, and put his arm around Hiccup. "You know, cuz... I know I never said this before, but... love ya. I mean, I was mean to ya and all... But, but, yeh made this village... great. Dragons, and hot girls... Ya made this village awesome as my face. No! More then my face."

Hiccup just kinda smiled at Snotlout. Even though he was, to be frank, drunk, he could still see the sincerity in his cousin's tone. Maybe, just maybe, he would apologize for before.

"So... Could I have Astrid?"

Or not.

"Huh?"

Snotlout continued, Oblivious to his cousin's confusion. "I was wondrin', seein' as you got Toothless and all... If I could have Astrid?"

Hiccup got a bit confused at that. "Whatchya mean I got Toothless?"

Snotlout smiled, and spoke. "Well, yeh got Tooth, and she's, well, a she. Ya can't have two girls... So I was wondering, if I could go after Astrid... and yeh can, like Marry Toothless or somethin'. I mean, if anyone could marry a dragon... It'd be you, cuz, yer the dragon master~."

Hiccup simply sat there, and didn't reply. Snotlout, after a moment, just patted his cousin on the shoulder, and stood up wobbily. "Yeah! I mean, yeh got that ring, and tooth's, like right there, and Gobber, well, he's the back-up marry guy thing, right? He could marry ya!"

Snotlout sat back down, looking slightly proud with himself, and looked to Hiccup expectantly.

Meanwhile, the thought was going through Hiccup's head. Marrying a dragon?

Could he do that?


"Come on, yeh Blackened Fishsteak, I know yeh can do better then that!"

Toothless was, again, in the middle of a drinking Contest. And, unlike last time, Gobber was winning.

But, she couldn't help but cock her drunken head to the side at Gobber's comment. Fishsteak?

Really?

Slowly, Toothless Scraped her claws over to the tankard, and slammed another drink down. And, almost immediately, she sneezed, sending a fireball across the room.

"Mah leg!"

Gobber chuckled, and turned to his three tankards left, and drank them all in one go. "I know I promised Stoick I wouldn' get drunk, but mah honor's on the line. Yer goin' down, dragon.


Hiccup, on the other hand, was still thinking about what Snotlout told him.

Could he, well, Marry Toothless?

The idea seemed insane, heck, it was insane, but...

If he did it, Toothless would never leave. His biggest worry, That Toothless would leave, for a mate, or... something else, would be gone. If they married, they would be stuck together. Kinda like they were now, but more permanent.

It sounded nice.

So, he turned to Snotlout, and spoke. "So, um snot, if, er yeh would-"

Before Hiccup could finish, Snotlout interrupted. "Ooooh. I geddit. Yeh want somethin' for givin' up on Astrid, donchya? Ummm... Alright, eh, My Dad has a spare hut, I coul' give ya that. I mean, It is for me after I marry, but... If I get Astrid, I could always build a new one... yeah, I'll give ya the hut."

Hiccup stopped for a second. That had nothing to do with Hiccup's question of if Astrid would kill him for that, but hey, now the deal was too good to pass up. A hut? Made by Snotlout's dad? He was like, the master craftsman. So, he simply nodded, and shakily shook Snotlout's hand. He then stood clumsily up, and waddled over to where Toothless was, with Snotlout, and, surprisingly, Fishlegs, behind him.

He had a mission.

God's preserve.


*Toothless POV*

I was losing. Terribly. I mean, My head was swimming, I could barely stand, and yet, I was still behind. Gobber just finished his last tankard, And I had four left. I slowly drug my unresponsive hand... claw... thing over to the first tankard, and brought it to my mouth. One.

I slowly grabbed the second one, and it followed suit. Two.

I reached for the third one, and...

Knocked it over.

I froze. That meant I...

"I win! Haha! I swear, Ah never had a challen' like that since Stoick! I swear by Odin, I actually thou' I was gonna lose! Hah!"

... Lost.

And, almost immediately, Gobber fell over. "Ah don' think I ever been this drunk before..."

I slumped over, and felt some small hands running up and down my side. I blearily looked over, and saw my Hiccup. "Ummm... Toothless? I got-t a question."

I simply gave Hiccup a smile, my way of telling him to continue. He nodded, and slumped down on one knee, and pulled out a small metal circle. "Toothless, umm... Will..."

I stared at him for a moment, before nudging him to continue.

"Oh, um right. Will... you..."

I noticed that the entire room went absolutely quiet.

"Will yeh marriage, er, I mean, marry me?"

I stood there for a moment, processing what that meant. What did that mean? But after a moment, I nodded. If hiccup was asking it, It was alright.

So, I licked him up the face, and nodded.

And, immediately after, I looked over to Meatlug, who was next to her rider, and asked "What's Marriage?"