Astrid walked up a dirt path to Hiccup's, her armor glistening in the autumn sunlight through the trees. She stopped near the door and rapped her fist against the door. She brought her cold knuckles away and yelled through the door, "Hiccup! Wake up or I'll wake you up myself!"

There was no answer and Astrid groaned, shoving the door open and walking into the room. It was freakishly cold in Hiccup's house which caused Astrid's eyebrows to knit as she glanced over the embers and ash swirling in the hearth. Toothless, who was curled up across from the door, opened an eye and watched her silently; this was her usual morning routine. She stomped to Hiccup's bed and was about to rip the covers away when she noticed an extra sleeping form. She turned slightly and caught a glimspe of silver flares against fur blankets. The extra form sat up and rubbed his eyes before glancing up and noticing Astrid who, without any warning, leapt forward and tackled him.

Jack scrambled backward in the blankets, trying to shove the girl's hands as far from his throat as possible. She grabbed a tuff of silver hair in her fist and he winced before kicking her in the knee and shoving her away. Jack jumped to his feet, his hands up in surrender. Astrid yelled a battle cry before slugging Jack in the stomach, causing him to fall in pain. The whole time, Toothless croakily snickered and watched the episode from behind his clawed paws.

Hiccup was up, trying to wriggle his prostethic on while yelling at Astrid. He finally got it partly on and leapt at her, grabbing her by the arms. "Astrid! ASTRID! He's a friend!"

Jack, who was still recovering from the low blow to his gut, struggled to stand. He eventually did and watched as Hiccup held Astrid around the waist, his nails digging into her arms to make her listen to him. Jack felt a pang of ... No. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't.

Astrid calmed enough for Hiccup to let her go. Astrid sighed and adjusted her armor, glancing at Jack who held his abdomen with tight white-knuckled fingers. She turned back to Hiccup and raised an eyebrow before nodding her head in Jack's direction.

"Astrid, Jack," Hiccup motioned with his hand to each other and added, "Jack stayed here last night; he doesn't have a hut or anything so I figured he could stay for the time being. I'll just have to ask my Dad."

Astrid rolled her shoulders and shrugged, glancing at Jack. "What's with his ... everything?"

Jack glanced down at his colonial clothes and swept a hand uneasily through his hair. Hiccup pulled Astrid aside and muttered, "He's from Jotunheim, Astrid."

Astrid raised an eyebrow. "He looks a little cleancut for that place, don't you think?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers to regain her attention. "He said he's from Jotunheim, so he's from Jotunheim, Astrid."

Astrid shrugged and nodded. "Fine. What's he going to do while you're gone?"

Hiccup hopefully started, "I thought maybe he could come to training-"

"Hiccup," Astrid began.

"No, come on, listen. We always need new dragon trainers and it'll help him meet people," Hiccup tried.

Astrid stared at Hiccup's bright hopeful eyes and groaned. "Fine, fine, whatever. Just don't let him near Stormfly, alright? I don't want his blood on my concsence."

Hiccup grinned and hugged her before thanking her a dozen times. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile on her face.

...

After Hiccup had forced Jack into a pair of hide boots, the four (including Toothless) made their way outside to the training arena, a deep hole that had served as a dragon arena where the best Vikings would fight against dragons for pride and glorified lives. That was, until Hiccup and Toothless showed the world of Vikings that dragons weren't the problem; the people and the fear were.

Jack stumbled down the dirt slope into the arena. They passed under an iron gate and Jack was about to follow Hiccup and Astrid inside when Toothless pushed in beside Jack and they struggled to both get through the entrance at once. Eventually the dragon wrenched his way inside, leaving Jack flushed from the uncalled for exersise. Jack sighed before he continued on his way into the arena. Jack glanced around, noticing painted wooden shields hanging from walls not lined in the same iron gating as the entrance.

There was a small group of people already there; two guys and two girls, at least that was what Jack saw from a distance. They all turned when Hiccup and Astrid walked in and were greeted by an annoyed, "You're late!"

They got in closer and that was when the other four seemed to notice Jack, who lagged slightly behind as he glanced at the teenagers before him. There was no doubt in his mind that they were Vikings but the horned helmets defiantly helped.

"Who's this?" One of the girls with braided blonde hair came forward and peered at Jack, who backed away slightly as she glanced him over. She gave him a tentative sniff before the other girl shoved her away, smirking jeeringly.

She sneered, "Oh, Hiccup, you shouldn't have! Fresh meat for the Nightmares, how kind!"

Jack froze and asked, "Wait. Nightmares?"

The girl, who Jack later found out was really the male twin of the girl with the braids, nodded and smirked. "The Nightmares get pretty hungry after terrorizing villages and burning down homes and ..."

Astrid rolled her eyes and glanced at Jack, who had gone deathly pale, even paler than he orginally was. She broke her tough facade to say, "Tuffnut's kidding, Jack. They don't do that anymore."

Astrid's form of comforting didn't do much to ease Jack's sudden anxiety. He'd never actually met a dragon until yesterday and at their meeting, Jack had almost accidenly drowned his master twice. The mention of Nightmares also didn't help Jack's nerves; he was still shaken by Pitch's leap for power last year.

In order to not seem like a complete and utter wimp, Jack smiled broadly. It was obviously flakey to Hiccup and Astrid, who shared a suddenly uneasy glance, but not to the other Vikings. "Bring it on," Jack said boldly to Tuffnut who sneered and clapped him on the shoulder.

"If you survive, we should get along just fine," Tuffnut said cooly before pushing Jack several feet before an iron gate. He smirked and patted Jack's back before the biggest Viking yelled, "Wait! We need to go over safety precautions!"

Tuffnut groaned as the guy ran up to Jack and began to give him a lengthy interrigation, "Okay, well, we go over safety to make sure everyone knows what they're walking into ... So, have you ever trained a dragon before?"

Jack shook his head.

"Um ... Have you ever ridden a dragon?" Fishlegs tried; usually the questions never got further than the first one, as most Vikings had some basic expirence.

Jack figured flying was the same thing as riding a dragon, so he nodded. "Yeah, well, I've done something like it."

The answer was vague enough for Fishlegs to ask, "...Have you, um, ever seen a dragon before coming here?"

Jack would've been offended had the question been false. "Well..." Jack trailed off, rubbing his neck. Jack had seen plenty of dragon illustrations when he read storybooks to Jamie. They were splashed in lucid colors with talons and teeth and fiery spit that seemed to radiate heat from the page; but that was it. They were only made scarier by your imagination.

Once, Jamie had asked Jack if dragons were real if he was. It had been late spring when Jamie had asked and Jack had shrugged and told him, "I suppose so." If Jamie knew that Jack was about to train a dragon, he would most likely force Jack to take him to Berk. But Jamie only saw dragons through pages of books, not the real thing; Jack's stomach twisted painfully as he stared at the group of Vikings who had huddled together at Jack's obvious cluelessness.

"This guy's a complete amauter, Hiccup," Snoutlout muttered. "He has no expirence at all."

"None of us did in the beginning," Hiccup began.

"Yeah, but this guy ... He doesn't know anything. At least when we started training dragons, we knew their weaknesses and their strengths from The Book. Now The Book's gone," Fishlegs started nervously, wringing his chubby hands.

Hiccup winced at the reminder of the missing Book of Dragons. "Yes ... I know. But, we can teach him."

"Hiccup, he won't last a minute out there," Ruffnut cut in right as her brother said, "You know, I think we should give a chance."

The five other Vikings turned to give Tuffnut a slightly incredulous look. "Look, all I'm saying is this guy could be better than we think. We've seen wimps pull off training dragons better than bigger guys all the time - look at Hiccup here."

They all rolled their eyes at Tuffnut's snide comment of Hiccup's size. Hiccup sighed and was about to say something when Toothless gave a warning wail.

The six Vikings whirled around to find Jack face-to-face with a Monstrous Nightmare. How it'd gotten out, they didn't want to know. They were suddenly armed and Hiccup called, "Jack! Don't do anything -"

"- Stupid, I know," Jack said, insecting the Nightmare from his close range. It looked nothing like the dragons from the stories Jack had read. For one, it had one of the longest necks Jack had ever seen along with lengthy black horns; its giant maw large enough to eat Jack whole in just one bite, if it felt like it. Its leathery wings were connected to its front paws, much like a bat's; the dragon's four gangly feet scraped against the dirt floor with curved talons that reminded Jack of meat hooks. Smoke huffed out of its nose as it glared into Jack's face. Jack was hit with the heat and remembered something he hadn't thought of: What would happen if this dragon opened fire and Jack couldn't get out of the way quick enough? Would the winter spirit melt or would he writhe in mortal agony?

Jack hadn't even seen the thing coming; it slipped from the shadows from one of the holes in the walls of the arena. Its gate hadn't been locked and it'd just snuck up on Jack while he'd been inspecting something on the dirt floor; a familar something. The same something that had latched onto the beast's tail in the dark of the gated enclosure and was now speeding up the dragon's back.

"Black sand," Jack whispered under his breath. "You can't be serious."

The Vikings watched in horror as the black infused in the Nightmare's purple skin. In all of their years of being around dragons, they'd never seen anything like it. It looked like a plague from where they stood, a cloud of flies attaching to the life and sucking it out.

The dragon's eyes were fully gold now, sparkling with golden sand grains. Jack watched as the iris was engulfed in the golden flash of sand, its body coated in black. Jack stared at it, barely even daring to take a breath.

Hiccup watched in panic as Jack stood before the black Nightmare. Jack stared it down, which Hiccup immeaditly knew was a bad idea, as Monstrous Nightmares were the most prideful of all the dragons, but Fishlegs beat him to it.

"Jack! Don't stare it in the eye," He whisper-screamed across the arena to Jack, who in the dead silence, heard his words perfectly.

"No, don't do that! You can't show any weakness," Ruffnut argued silently.

"You two aren't helping," Jack muttered between his tightly closed jaws. Jack racked his mind for something to help him in this situation and asked between his teeth, "What's a Nightmare's form of attack?"

Fishlegs began the second the words left Jack's lips, "Monstrous Nightmares use this form of attack called the 'Fire Jacket', where they light their entire bodies on fire. They also have talons and teeth and they use their tails as clubs. They're very proud and incredibly strong."

Jack had to force himself not to shudder at the mention of the 'Fire Jacket'.

"How about that black stuff?" Snoutlout asked.

"I ... don't know what that is," Fishlegs began, confusion evident in his voice. Fishlegs had never not known anything.

Jack tried to think past the certain death he was facing and try to conjure ideas. The first he thought of was fun. But, how was Jack going to use fun to his advantage here? With six Vikings nervously watching?

Jack couldn't possibly make it snow, not now with the skies perfectly clear. He couldn't glaze the dirt in frost; that'd get questions Jack couldn't answer. Jack glanced at the overwelming black sand and the smoke swirling out of the crocidile nostrils, sand bubbling over its nose.

Jack glanced at the sand, noticing the red-rimmed black liquid over the dragon's snout. Jack's lips parted in the start of a smile. That was it! Sand, when heated, turned into glass, no matter the time in history.

Jack closed his eyes and thought for a moment. How would he be able to aggravate the dragon enough for it to light itself aflame? Jack could hear Bunny retort in his mind: "Be yourself, mate. That's enough for me."

Jack smirked and heard his voice say, "Now, buddy, we're gonna have a little fun. How about that?"

The dragon snorted a puff of smoke and growled slightly as Jack held his arms out and smirked; Snoutlout and Ruffnut stared at him and in usion asked, "What is he doing?" "How about we play a little game of what I like to call Hot and Cold Tag? It's simple really. You chase me, I chase you, whoever gets tagged is hot or cold." Cold as in freezing or hot as in burnt to a crisp. (I made this up guys don't judge me)

Jack gazed into the dragon's eyes, waiting for something, anything. Instead, the dragon opened its crocidile jaws to reveal rows of jagged bone and the licking of fire between molars, like red-hot toothbrush bristles.

Jack laughed and hopped away, ducking as a stripe of fire swiped the air where Jack's head had been. "You gotta be quicker than that!" Jack yelled before ripping a shield off of the wall and throwing it at the dragon like a frisbee, which hit the dragon hard in the side of its head. The shield was then chomped at and reduced to splinters that dug into the dragon's tongue.

Jack and the dragon played this game for a while; Jack almost losing several limbs from time to time. Eventually, most of the dragon's face was incased in black buddling glass and the rest of the sand slipped away to the ground and began to form words that only Jack could read, as they were in English and not Norse; Beware the black nightmares.

...

"That was all you did?" Mother Gothel shrieked. She was furious at Pitch's lack of action. "You had him right in your hands a-and you let him just get away!"

Pitch rolled his eyes at Gothel's overdramatics. "Gothel, why must you question my motives?"

The two were standing together in the dark; somewhere in Pitch's dark palace. Everything looked exactly the same there; dark, cruel and writhing with a mass of shadows watching their every movement.

"Well, oh, I don't know, maybe because you've tried to prevail over the Guardians three times and failed each? Or maybe because in all these years of solitude you've grown soft? Is that it, Pitchner? Do you have a bit of a soft spot for the boy, hmm?" Gothel crooned, her face bathed in dark light from a splash of slanted light from the ceiling far above; even up there, the light wasn't safe from the shadows. They stretched their claws into the burning light and shrieked in pain, leaning over to the other side of the hole until it was covered in screaming darkness.

"Gothel, need I remind you, I can take you out just as I brought you in," Pitch snarled. "You are but a mere chess peice in this game, the Queen of Black; however, the Queen can always be overthrown and replaced." The light sliced through the darkness to reveal Pitch's snarling face, inches from Gothel's. She had to refrain from taking a step away. "Now, now," Pitch purred, brushing his fingers against a coarse black curl, "Don't worry a hair on your pretty head, Gothel. I know exactly what I'm doing. By the end of this, you'll have your flower back in safe hands and I'll have my Blackjack."

"What will become of the other two?" Gothel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Patience," Pitch started, a smile curling on his lips. "All will come in due time."

...

Father Time walked down a chilly street in London, his hands deep in the pockets of the trench coat he'd stuffed them in. In only a few moments, Tim knew the entire history of its walls and its houses, its people and of its past. He also foresaw the future, the good and the bad.

Tim passed a group of vagrants in dirty clothes, moth-eaten schawls, knuckle gloves, each hiding their distant eyes behind masses of wiry beards and shaggy hair. Tim stopped and could see in those eyes their hopes and dreams, crushed underfoot; their lives torn from them until they were nothing but shells of their former selves. Tim stepped toward their bin fire and tossed a wad of money at each of their holey-shoed feet. "It gets better," Tim promised before he turned away from their shocked faces and constant 'bless you!'s and continued on his way down the frosted street.

Tim walked down the sidewalk, his mind deadpanning information of the past, present and future: there had been a car crash there, a lucky meeting which blossomed into love here, there would be a fight here where a man would lose a permanant tooth (and Tooth would chew and spit Tim out for not preventing it) and a strike of inspiration through that rain-streaked cafe window. Time was all around him, under his feet, in the air, gleaming across the giant clockface of Big Ben. Time was ticking down and all Tim could do was stare at his shoes.

"Sir," A voice piped up to his left, "Care to spare a penny?"

Tim turned to the man beside him. He was wearing the same clothing as one of the vagrants from the bin fire and stared imploringly at Tim.

"I think you're the one to owe me the penny, Hibernus," Tim began, "Give me my pocketwatch. Now."

The man sighed and dug through his dirty cloths before pulling a shiny pocketwatch from within them. He dangled the chain on his fingers and tossed it at Tim. "Didn't have a care for it, really, what with that giant clock over there," Hibernus cocked his head to Big Ben as Tim caught the watch.

"You can never have too much time," Tim shurgged, wrapping the chain and slipping it into his pocket.

The two were silent, walking side-by-side, ice fluttering down from the mass of clouds above them. "Can I ask why you're here, Tim?"

"Can I not just be visiting an old friend?" Tim asked, smirking slightly.

"Us? Friends? Hardly," Hibernus muttered under his icy breath.

"You caught me, then," Tim said, glancing at the man beside him. "Do you remember that favor you promised you'd return?"

Hibrernus groaned. "Yes, I do."

"Well, I need that favor," Tim began.

"What do you need, then?" Hibernus asked suspsiously.

"A bit of ice."

"What do you need my ice for?" Hibernus stopped walking forward and turned to Tim.

"Curious, are we?" Tim stopped in line with Hibernus. "The information is classified for the time being, Hibernus. I can't disclose any of it." Espically with you, Tim thought as he watched Hibernus' lips curl then press together.

"Very well," Hibernus said, his eyes slits under snowy brows. Hibernus dug in his dirty folds and pulled out a shard of blue ice. "Is this enough?"

Tim nodded, taking the shard. "For now, it is."

"Anything else?" Hibernus asked, watching Tim's lips purse. He was obviously thinking something.

"Nothing at all," Tim said, before turning away. "I've got to run. Don't stay out too long, Hibernus. You might catch a cold."

"I've had a cold since The Dark Days, Tim."

...

Father Time glanced through the clockface of Big Ben, the Sands of Time filtering behind him; the continous tick of the clock and falling sand grains filled the silence like a soundtrack. Father Time turned to the Sands of Time and flicked the ice sharp into the air; it spun in the air as Tim opened the top of the hourglass and snapped his fingers. The ice shard stopped spinning and landed in the grains of sand, painting them soft blue.

The sand grains in the hourglass froze in mid-filter; the giant clockface's hands stopped mid-tock. Tim ducked under iron and bronze gears to look through the illuminated clockface to the city of London below. The snow was blotches of white peppering the sky; frost clung to the clockface. The city below was as frozen as the sky above.

Tim sighed and looked out the clockface. He turned away from the hourglass to a globe. Tim willed the frozen Sands to flow from the hourglass into the air; the silvery blue sand spun circles around him and the globe; the globe began to spin feverishly counter-clockwise, lights fizzling and reigniting until Tim was staring at what was a past Europe. He willed the sand to latch over a spot in Scotland. The globe began to swirl again, this time clockwise, before it aburtly stopped. Tim's eyes trailed over the globe until they latched upon a bright golden ord of light, seemingly against thin air. The sand latched to the orb of light and Tim took a step away, admiring the globe before he turned to peer out the clockface to catch a glimspe of the shimmering moon and the stars above; now Tsar could put his plan into action, slowly but surely.

Alright, so now with time frozen, the story will mainly focus around Hiccup and Jack until Jack's needed elsewhere (or time unfreezes).

I'm sorry about my belated updating but hey I got a haircut that has no relation to this whatsoever but it looks like MK off of Epic yeah and we have the same initials.

There's actually a story behind the Beware the black nightmares thing. My friend, Claire, her sister, Hope, watched rotg for the first time and afterwards she would get horrible nightmares. After one of her naps, she walked up and told Claire to "beware the black nightmares," and it gave me an idea after we had a panic attack over it~

Hiccup also lost The Book of Dragons and that's why Jack has it now

Yes, so I hope you all liked this chapter (sorry about no Punzie or Merida in this one) but when Jack switches to different times, it'll have parts of everyone's reactions yeah

but 27 reviews, 19 follows, 13 favourites szjdhalfkjfha I love you guys

I've also given Astrid more of a soft side for Jack (you know after she slugs the crud out of him) because in a way, I think the two would be friends. Although I've only seen her the movie and the shorts (I haven't seen any Riders of Berk episodes but I might go buy part 1 sometime soon) I think they'd become friends after she gets over the fact that he's Jack Frost.

Also Hell starts early for me so I have orientation the 6th and it actually starts the 12th. ~how about no~

so tell me what you think so I can adore you and we can squeal and stuff