Notes
Well this is completely based on the Gift of the Night Fury short from 2011 and is set as a sequel to my first fic based on the first movie of the franchise. In my fic, Hiccup and Astrid are gender bent characters. Astrid is called Artichoke because everyone on that village has weird ass names why does the pretty girl gets a pretty name, unfair, right? So I named her- him Artichoke. Also, since Hiccup was seen as too weak and disastrous to be a Chiefstress, Stoick set an arranged marriage between Hiccup and Artichoke, given he was considered the best warrior-in-training of the generation and Stoick assumed the people of Berk would not mind have him as Chief, though Hiccup starts proving her own value across the story.
Toothless is also a female and I must add that, even if they are in an arranged marriage, just like in the movie, the couple is 15 and has not consummated the marriage, they're slowly growing costumed with each other's touch though they do share a bed.
You don't need to read my first work to understand this one, the notes are simply for context.
Hope you enjoy.
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About a little bit over a full millennium ago, a seafaring Norse people from southern Scandinavia known as Vikings had established themselves on multiple territories of Europe, however, on a forgotten, extremely northern archipelago, sailing so north you'd think your limbs would freeze off, there was a small island named, by its inhabitants as Berk. A place so fully blessed with less than a full month of summer, a couple weeks of autumn and a long, long lasting winter that, at this point, covered all its forests, trees, caves and hut's rooftops with a thick white snow-made veil for quite some weeks now.
Crack.
For years, the Berkian people had been kept from their exploring far-sailing Viking culture due a seemingly never-ending plague that scared them for generations. However, just a couple months ago, the interspecies war between humans and dragons was finally over after a pair of friends made by one of a kind of each managed to give an end to what fueled both attacks and proved both cultures that friendship and harmony could be achievable, as possible as peace could reign across those lands.
Crack.
They had gone on some months with this, both dragons and humans still adapting to their new world of peace and cooperation, although now, in the very mid of their harsh, seemingly never-ending winter, a special date for Berkians was approaching. It was pretty much their one and only special holiday and celebration of all cold months, given how the cold would usually lock the people in their homes, as close to their fireplace as possible until spring could finally show its blessing signs. Spring brought the people lives back at the planting fields, brought them food and soft enough weather to continue their hard work of ship building, blacksmith, constructions. Spring brought weddings and celebrations and flowers, summer brought campaigns and feasts and preparations, autumn brought counting and stocking and a final breath before ice and snow filled their everyday views, but winter… Winter brought only frostbite and sickness, and hunger, and, in the midst of misery, winter brought Snoggletog.
Crack. Growl.
A rather funny name for the season's most expected holiday. A light in their endless cold night, a day of presents and meals and animal sacrifices to the gods, a day of decoration and happiness until spring could lift their spirits back up again.
This year in particular would occur the very first shared Snoggletog, where dragons and humans would celebrate it together, they'd celebrate the peace, the prosperity, and all good deeds yet to come.
Growl. Growl.
Hiccup, the human side of the pair of heroes responsible for this new peace, always thought her people's choice for such needed holiday was a mystery, but, as most in that island, she'd need to agree this year would be one to remember.
"It's yours", an elongated, numb with sleep voice had barely managed to murmur, pocking Hiccup's shoulder unceremoniously while she was still toss and turning on her bed, pillows above her face to muffle the sound of attention growls and a growing scratch on her hut's walls.
She sighed.
"Not… Storm… Fly", he purred again, hiding amongst the messy nest of thick furs they used as blankets for this time of the year. The voice in question belonged to what could be called one of the best young warriors of the island, a still growing blond boy with pretty blue eyes, an athletic built and, by nothing more than faith (for real, tho) Hiccup's husband. On theory, at least. Their arranged marriage had been sealed (again, in theory) about a month and a half before this equally sleepy girl's great deed to stablish peace and though they had grown quite close, their relationship was still very much theorical, even if the couple did share a large bed.
Hiccup let a long yawn out herself and scratched her own eyelids till she felt awake enough. Didn't need to get her feet in the ground to feel its cold, but her and her husband's boots were placed by the bed anyway. Embers of last night fire were still seen, but their heat was long forgotten. She got a thick fur vest; aware a warmth cloak would be far from ideal to what she was about to do out soon as she steps out the front door.
Another impatient growl came from outside. "Coming". A cold bread was hardly chewed as she prepared herself for the cold morning winter's air to greet her, her hands still managing to fix her short braids under her oversized helmet, a gift from her father.
It was a clear enough morning; the sun had just fully risen. And there it was, atop the humans' hut. An enormous, over eight hundred kilograms (it's true, I searched) beast, a fire-breathing mythical creature covered in pitch-black scales as dark as a starless sky, demanding attention for far too long.
"Ah, good morning, Mrs. Bossy", Hiccup said, walking towards where she was used to see her best friend reach the ground, around the lateral of her hut. The dragon responded with a roaring that sounded suspiciously like a human laughter, one Hiccup didn't hesitate on imitating right back.
"Why you always gotta wake me up so early to go flyiiAH-" her lazy complaint got suddenly stopped, as she tripped on herself, sliding with no control after clumsily not seeing the thick layer of ice on her way. For her luck, before her legs torn each other and before she collapsed against the thick, cold, and merciless ice, Toothless went quickly, offering support with her thick, large head, soon pushing her safely back to the not-so-ice covered floor. "Stupid leg", Hiccup muttered at her own stump. A few centimeters below her left knee, where her shin used to be, a prosthetic peg leg made of wood and iron replaced her left foot. It had been months, but she had still a lot to work on before it would be like before. Maybe it would never be like before, actually. Running was out of question and slips like this were rather common since the beginning of snow.
Toothless cooed, as if lowly asking if she was alright. "Thanks, girl, I'm okay". Though dragons were incapable of verbally speaking, Hiccup felt as if she could communicate with them even better, even easier than with those of her kind, specially the one and only Night Fury. "Yeah, we can go flying now- Ew! Wha- Ew, Toothless", scratch that, her one and only Night Fury had just blurted a very, very disgusting morning breath right into her human's face.
No further discussions, a few quick chuckling, and the duo was the very first pair to be up in the skies flying. Dropping degrees at each higher stance, cold covered Hiccup's face, and limbs, waking her up entirely, although the dragon's always warm scales helped her not freeze to death, besides, flying was such an amazing experience, the wind, the power, the dynamic was so wonderful, she might have left herself freeze on that clouds, was not for dragon's natural high temperature. Maybe they're not reptiles after all.
They went for above the clouds, above where was always white all year long, only snow covered, craggy mountain tops would reach them. "C'mon, girl, let's see what you got today". And they fell. A planned fall, however, a free fall just beside the high rocky coasts, Toothless had her mighty, black, and wide wings open to let them soar on just before the freezing water could caught their skin. And so they went on and flew further, right to where they usually went for training alone.
Flying could be simple, as it could take longer for some than for others, for them, oh, they were in this for a while, but didn't mean it were their limits, no, there were still many tricks and technics Hiccup had in mind to try, and Toothless was always more than happy to engage the challenge. "Ready?".
Hiccup flicked the piece of pedal where her prosthetic touched Toothless' saddle's pedal, a complicated setting for flying Hiccup had developed to help the dragon's prosthetic tail to keep working on for a few seconds. And then the girl got up, standing, finding balance atop her friend's back. Careful! A roar came as a worried warning, but they both went for it anyway, going forward.
That's it, that's it, they were approaching an arched high rock above the sea. One they could've easily flown under it, in its short tunnel, and even easier over it, above the arch. But that wasn't what the duo had in mind, no, they'd try once again their latest trick and when Toothless' body came close enough, Hiccup put strength in her legs and jumped up. Flying alone for just a short instance before going over and being safely caught by her friend and quickly changing the pedals again, so they were both in control once more, helping each other. "Yes! Finally!" she exclaimed, glad to not fall in Berk's cold winter waters again by attempting this. One could say this girl had a death wish by creating such complex paths to what could be simple, and she was not one to disagree anymore, just to laugh with it.
But they weren't done, no, by far, she had more tricks an if Toothless woke her up so early then they might as well spend this morning training, something the dragon was more than happy to comply.
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A few more hours in that rarely beautiful mid-winter morning, Stoick was standing in the midst of his village's plaza. Berkians were moving and working and decorating with the help of dragons, who didn't understand the holiday, for sure, but seem content to be helping.
This was his favorite time of the hardest season, and he could guess anyone so further in north islands could agree. The seas nearly freezing and so much snow they couldn't leave their houses for too long other than a quick trip to the bathroom. No, it was no way to live. But on Snoggletog, oh, then his people would remember how it felt good to be alive. Although he had to admit, having dragons around certainly had them all warmed up since the war's end.
In front of this very large man, old in medieval ages, this was both a happy and an absurd sight. He always dreamt of peace, for sure, as had his father, and the father before him, and the father before him. But peace with harmony alongside dragons? No, that was just unthinkable. Until his daughter thought on it, dreamt on it and made it work. Oh, he was just too grateful for that, for sure, and he'd thank the gods today. As his people's Chief, Stoick also knew they were all extra anxious for this year's holiday, being the first the fire-breathing beasts from their nightmares and battlefields would be celebrating with them. It sure was a day to remember, a day to mark history, and so he wanted everything to go as planned, as right as possible.
Still, it seemed to be all fine, a rare theme for Viking tribes, really. But it was all working. Evergreen garlands, dragons helping Berkians to rise above safely for decorating, the big, made-up tree with green wood and other ornaments, yes.
"No, no, no, no, not there", he heard his life-long loyal friend Gobber guide a woman riding a Gronckle place a garland near the tops of a public building's pillar. "Yes, there, that's it".
He gave his friend a pat on his shoulder, it was all going pretty alright.
In front of him, Stoick also saw a youngling, a child under 10 years of age, judging by its size, a squared, detailed painted dragon fantasy covering its face as the kid approached a sleeping Gronckle and gave it the mightiest roar they could. Gronckle were tough dragons, rock-made tough skin, nearly impossible to cut open, compact, could weight nearly 2 ton and easily burn a small child with just one short-distance fire blast. And yet, this beast he grew up fighting, locking up and slaughtering just went down and gave a low roar back to the kid, making it not cry in fear, but squeal giggling with joy, soon to be followed by the compact dragon on a low pace, making it clear they were playing.
"Go on and play, Meatlug", said the Fishlegs boy- well, not a boy since he was part of the group of young warriors that saved Berk… But given how he pretty much as old as Hiccup, he was a boy still for Stoick.
Turning around, he saw his son-in-law holding numerous light, colorful shields on both his hands as he was talking to his Deadly Nadder, who listened attentively to him.
"Are you ready, girl?", he asked and the Nadder nodded, the beast nodded, understanding him perfectly. Artichoke threw the shields up in the air and a quick blast of the dragon's breed characteristic tail thorns, as sharp and as lethal as a volley of arrows, now used, instead of to get Vikings down, to click the shields around the green construction's cone as ornaments.
He really needed to learn to stop seeing these animals as the deadly beasts they once were, but it was all still… Mesmerizing.
"By Odin's beard, Gobber, Vikings spending the winter's holiday with dragons", he started walking with his friend "What would our parents say?", they were probably revolting within the gates of Valhalla if they knew about this.
"They'd say we lost out minds", Gobber answered, sharing his thoughts exactly, extracting a chuckle from the red-headed Viking.
Seeing a small crowd of Vikings reunited, how fast the preparations were going with the dragon's aid this year. "Well done, well done", he said, clamping his hands together to gather attention. "I never thought I'd live to see this day, peace on the island of Berk", he'd need to give many more speeches on Snoggletog day but being a Chief meant helping his people keep their spirits up whenever possible. "This will surely be the greatest holiday we've ever seen", they sheered, and dragons growled with joy, taking the cue.
And then, it changed.
The dragons stop abruptly. Their pupils shooting thin in a heartbeat. Hiccup had told their pupils were connected to their emotions, what is this…? But the Chief couldn't remember as all beasts around them suddenly went quiet.
"What in Thor's name?", Gobber exclaimed beside him, catching his and everyone's attention to the countless frames of dragons flying up-high. Flying away, all in the same direction, away from the tribe.
A Monstruous Nightmare roared loud, not an amicable roar and his immediate thought was to search for his axe, but, as Stoick should have expected, after months with peace, the dragons did not attack them. They did, however, flew up. All of them. The one playing with children, Artichoke's Nadder, and so many others just took flight with the others.
Villagers became confused, clinging to their closest dragons, asking them to come back, but they didn't listen. As if it was a calling. Could it be…? No, Hiccup and her Night Fury defeated Red Death that day, even if this reaction did seem just like his daughter and Artichoke had told them the calling looked like, but then, dragons were not raiding and-
"Where's Hiccup?", asked Artichoke just behind him.
Motherfuck-
If Hiccup were flying, and, gods, wasn't she always? He didn't know what that was and not knowing could never be good, they stuck a 300-year war for not knowing better about dragons. We need to find her.