Hiccup woke to Milady Toothless butting the top of her head against his chin. He wasn't quite awake yet, so he didn't notice their position right away. Then the little dragon wiggled in his arms. He took one look at where his hands were and withdrew them so quickly that Milady Toothless tumbled onto the uncovered mattress and squeaked as she landed upside down. The outrage in that tiny sound halted Hiccup's racing pulse and made him laugh again. She was so cute in the morning.

She reoriented herself from her upside down position and sat, face turned away from him, snout in the air. He laughed again. "Alright, I'm sorry." She didn't budge. "Is it really a big deal that I thought you were adorable this morning?" At that, her shoulders softened and she pivoted her long neck to gaze back at him. He smiled gently and offered one of the sausages Mark must have brought in earlier. "Would you like some breakfast?" She pounced on the treat.

That was how the head seamstress of the castle found the pair, peacefully eating breakfast at the table in their rooms. She approached the prince who, she noted with a suppressed giggle, was still in his night clothes. "Sire?"

He looked up from the piece of toast he was currently smearing with jam. "Yes?"

"We're ready for the lady's fitting."

Hiccup's eyes snapped open and he stammered out, "But what would she need to be fitted for? I mean she's…well,"

The older woman smiled at the man she'd known since he was toddling around the corridors. "I'm sure we'll find some way to turn her into a bride."

"Alright." He turned to the little dragon looking at him expectantly. "Well, would you like to go get outfitted, Milady Toothless?" She chirped and flew to the older woman, settling gingerly on her shoulder. Hiccup laughed. "I believe Milady Toothless wishes to be fitted."

"Milady Toothless?" The seamstress asked.

"Yes. I named her last night. It's only Milady around company, though." He didn't think his father would take kindly to a bride named Toothless. The seamstress nodded and walked out with the little dragon balanced precariously on her shoulder.

After a few minutes, they entered the room where the other two brides were being outfitted in their finery for tomorrow's festivities. White silk and lace were matched to complexions and pearls woven through hair by the many assistants hired to prepare the women for the big day. One of the brides, the nobleman's daughter, was having her dressed hemmed and the other was selecting the style of lace trim for the edging of her veil when the head seamstress walked in with the smallest and sweetest of the brides.

The other two were immediately abandoned in favor of a designer's favorite challenge; the impossible task of turning a disaster into a dream. In this case, the disaster was a dragon bride. One whipped out a cloth measuring tape and the torture began.

And these ladies clearly did nothing halfway. First, it was from the tip of her nose to the end of her tail, making her sneeze. Her wings were manhandled into their fully extended position and measured, just before the tape constricted around her chest. Her waist was next, just above the junction where her back legs joined her body, and the girls cooed over the difference between the two measurements. What a regular girl wouldn't do to have those proportions. The length of her neck and space between her ears was measured next, although she couldn't fathom what they might need those for. Finally, after they measured the length of each leg, the seamstress let her rest on the back of a chair near where one of the other brides waited as she and her mob of assistants crowded around the design station.

After five minutes of brainstorming, a few of the girls were sent away to tend to the more conventional dresses and the hemming and selecting resumed, but the other brides couldn't help but notice that their attendants kept glancing over at the dragon perched on the chair or towards the head seamstress whose eyes were glued on the little creature as she endlessly sketched and discarded the drawings in balls of inadequacy. Finally, one of the assistants walked up to her superior and offered, "Why not let her have an opinion?" She gestured towards the scaly miss.

The elder designer looked up from her sketchpad and the girl prepared for a lecture on disrespect, but instead she was complimented. "How silly of me. Of course I should have asked her. Who knows, Milady might actually have an opinion." She smirked to herself at the absurdity of it, but nonetheless brought her current design up to the dragon for inspection. The dragon took one look at the heavily ruffled collar, took her claw, and scratched over it. Well, if that didn't mean no, the seamstress wondered what did. She scrapped the drawing and began another one, this time without the ruffles but retaining the high collar.

Milady Toothless hopped down from the back of the chair and rested her belly on the cushioned seat. The seamstress came forward with the sketchpad again. But this time Milady was going to be more exact in her opinion. She flew to the design station, picked up an ink pot, and carried it over to her chair where the woman waited, jaw slightly agape at the beast's intelligence. Toothless dipped her claw into the pot and drew a few lines, cutting off the collar at the base of her neck, using a halter design to free up her wings, and adding a splendid train to cover her tail and back legs. The woman smiled at her. "It seems His Highness had good reason to name you Milady. Shall we go look at fabrics?" The dragon chirped and lifted into the air, heading in the direction of the rack of lace choices.

Sophia shrieked as the girl pinning her hem stuck her with yet another of the blasted things. "I could have had my family seamstress come and fit me for a dress. I don't think you're paying attention."

The head walked up to her and said quite sternly, "Well I don't know how the Nobility conducts such matters, but I assure you that as the king's personal wardrobe outfitters, you won't find finer work."

She sneered at the woman. "At least those employed by my family pay attention to their clients. You seem to have forgotten there are three brides, not just the scaly one." The older woman rolled her eyes, to the noblewoman's distain. "Personally, I don't see what's so lovely about her. She's a scaly, dirty dragon who just happened to grab the pretty stick with feathers on the end. But no, everyone within fifteen feet of the creature suddenly finds her so lovely."

"I agree." Sophia looked over to the other human bride, Clarice. She wasn't bad for a merchant's daughter, with refined taste, even if her name was a bit unfortunate. "But then what did you expect Prince Hiccup to wed? He'd have been lucky to get a scullery maid. But personally, I think they make a splendid match." The girls sniggered to each other. Tomorrow, the whole kingdom would see the difference between a rose petal complexion and a scaly one. In that moment, Fate laughed.

Try imagining a sleeker, more elegant version of a dog wedding dress for Toothless. This is our first bit of rivalry between the girls and the dragon, and believe me, it get's better.