Toying with a headcanon I've had for a while now.
Might contain HTTYD2 spoilers; or rather, post-HTTYD2.
Summary: Hiccup and Astrid bring their family for a special night out...
Great Fortune
"You're sure it's all safe?" This was probably the twentieth time Astrid had asked the same question. Hiccup sighed. He knew her anxiety was somewhat illogical, but then again that's what made it hard for her to control.
"I'm sure of it, Astrid. You know there's nothing to worry about." He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin against her cheek, kissing her temple fondly.
He smelled the delicate scent of the lavish soap she had taken to bathe herself with; he brushed his hands across her midriff, over the waistline of her armoured skirt. He'd asked her to wear something more delicate tonight, assuring her there was no need for her usually practical clothes, but she had refused. Hiccup didn't want to press the issue any further.
He felt her sigh within his arms; he caught a wisp of a tremble down her spine as he moved his hands to work the tension out of her shoulders. He wanted to pull her hair loose from her braided bun, but he didn't.
"I guess I'm being silly, huh?"
"Just a little bit," he told her reassuringly, planting a stray kiss upon her neck. His eyes wandered over to the open bedroom door within their living area. "But you can't trust your gut on this one. Trust me instead."
Astrid rested her palms over his hands and leaned her head against his chest, her back still to him. "I trust you."
"I have to leave now," he announced. "Just one more thing to take care of. I'll be back before it starts."
Astrid gathered his cape in her hands. Hiccup turned and allowed her to drape it over his back, fastening it with ease and sealing the ritual with a long, soft kiss.
"I know you will."
Astrid watched solemnly as Hiccup kicked off up into the air on Toothless' back, black silhouettes beating against the dim glow of the setting sun. She stood before the glassed window of their house, surveying the skies for a while after they were no longer visible in the horizon.
She felt agitated. It had been twenty years since that day. Twenty years, and yet a dim memory still came back to her, unbidden. There is something about childhood frights that makes them so much more difficult to shake off, to reason with, to grow out of. She had to do something to take her mind off of that restless ghost, one she had thought would be long gone by now.
That was just it, she told herself; a wandering fragment of a memory, no more than an echo of what it once was. She had already found closure for it before, with Hiccup's help, and this hollow shell of a burden she once carried was now no more than the cause for mild irritation.
Still, her heart nearly leapt from her chest when Hiccup came stumbling inside their household. She let go of a breath she had been holding in, and hurried on over to relieve him of his fur mantle.
"Like I said," Hiccup said with undisguised content, distracted as per usual. "Everything's under control, the water's flowing just to where it should be, so even if by chance it – … whoa." He paused to look at his wife.
One long, slow, deliberate look; and he was transported.
She had changed into her dress, the one he liked so much but at the same time detested because of the way it made him short of breath. Her hair hung loose like carefully woven gold upon her shoulders, almost bidding for his touch. And with the fireplace blazing behind her, she was veiled in shades orange red around her figure, like some pagan deity, his cloak still in her hands.
One look, and he knew she felt the very same need that had begun to burn at him from the inside. Hiccup let out half a groan, half a moan. He wanted to –
"Is it time yet? The kids…" She breathed out the moment she noticed what his next move was going to be. Hiccup nearly stumbled on his own feet. He looked beyond his wife – his eyes had been stapled to her until then – and saw two little figures playing on the table with small ragdoll dragons.
"Oh," was all he said, suddenly disarmed; yet he still lingered a suggestive look upon her. The impish smile he got in response left no room for second guesses. "Hey, kiddos! Daddy's home! Guess what, you guys are gonna see something pretty cool tonight. Wanna come watch the stars?"
The children hopped out of the table immediately, toys forgotten. Whenever Daddy promised something good, they were in for a treat.
Ylena, dark red locks falling from her shoulders in a careless bundle of wild hair, was the first one to reach her father's outstretched arms. Hiccup picked up the four-year-old in a swoop and spun her around in the air in a make-believe flight. Her giggles were soon joined by her brother's, when Astrid mimicked Hiccup by gathering the toddler in her arms and pretending that he was flying toward his sister.
Tryggr was heavy for a child that had just only seen two springs, and stubbornly determined; he was oddly proud of his strawberry blonde hair and threw a terrible tantrum whenever anyone tried to cut it off, so Astrid had to keep it short by trimming it only when he was asleep.
They left the house in a chorus of laughter. Toothless was waiting outside, tail swishing through the air, pink gums exposed in a hearty smile. Astrid trusted him well enough to carry her children for a walk on his back, and the little ones adored their "uncle".
As they made their way toward a hilltop near the forest, people greeted them with enthusiasm and apparently easy smiles.
Astrid seemed surprised. "Everyone seems so calm, now."
"The bravest of the Hoffersons walks among them," Hiccup told his wife with affection. "Your presence reassures them."
"I think you mean your dragon's presence."
Hiccup laughed and shook his head, kissing her nose hurriedly before he trotted on ahead to greet his mother, who already awaited them. He'd brought a large fur rug along with him, and set it upon the grass in their designated spot; as far away from the villagers as he could manage without actually entering the boundaries of the forest.
Astrid's hand found Hiccup's and held on to it tightly, her fingers entwined with his as they tried to get their children to settle down. Valka helped, bringing both her grandchildren by the hand, doing a little dance with them around the rug before settling down. Toothless had to blow several smoke rings to get the little ones distracted and calm, but soon the family of six went quiet, gazing upon the skies, the children's heads resting upon their parents' laps.
The night air was stagnant and warm, not a breeze to stir the leaves on the trees, not a cloud to cover the many stars glowing against the dark. The whole village seemed to have stood still; Hiccup couldn't remember Berk ever being this silent.
"Daddy, tell us a story." Ylena asked quietly; her brother seconded the motion with an eager whine. They were used to stargazing together, and Hiccup always had a story to regale his children with.
It usually started with the same line:
"There were dragons when I was a boy," Hiccup began after a moment's pause.
His eyes scanned the firmament with nostalgic reverence, knowing in his heart that he would not see one cross the sky tonight. Not ever again. "And ever since Vikings moved to Berk, there was one that would instil terror in the hearts of men – one so rare, it only appeared once every ten years… On this very same night, when Arvendale's Fire lit up the skies."
He felt Astrid's grip tighten around his hand, and somehow even his heart clenched. The Flightmare wouldn't come tonight… but Hiccup had an almost childish wish for it to appear. He knew his mother felt the same; he saw it in the wistful way her eyes narrowed toward the dark skies, the creases around her eyes suddenly more visible.
"It came with the lights, beautiful and deadly. And any man or woman that looked upon it would freeze on the spot."
He felt Ylena shuffle and whimper on his lap. "What did it look like?"
Hiccup gave his daughter a reassuring kiss on her forehead. "It glowered like a wraith, like a candle burning in blue light. But it was so bright, that is stung your eyes and froze your heart."
"It almost sounds pretty…" Hiccup could hear traces of both wonder and fear in his daughter's voice. He wondered what sort of images her imagination had woven into her star-struck eyes.
"Mama," whined Tryggr, fisting his mother's dress with his small hands. "We fight."
Astrid chuckled at her son's determination. "You have the Hofferson bravery in you, my darling."
"And the Haddock courage as well! A fine mix," said Valka, sparing her grandchild a half-hearted smile.
It was then the colour around them changed.
"Look!" Tryggr squeaked, both hands now pointing up at the ethereal snakes coiling up athwart the skies. They spread languorously, moved by what unearthly strength controlled them, setting the entire atmosphere ablaze in shades of jade and celestial blue.
The entirety of the village held their breaths, suddenly almost unsure of what to expect.
Unsure of what they wanted to expect.
But no unearthly cry reached their ears, no set of phosphorescent wings rose from the sea. There were only bright lights across the entire firmament.
Both children gasped, never having seen anything remotely similar to this in their short lives. Even the adults were mesmerized; it felt so much different to be able to look upon the shimmering lights, without the presence of that crippling dread of the winged apparition.
And at the same time, there was an eerie sense of finality to it.
Hiccup could hear the blood drumming through his ears. Astrid's hand tightened around his. Absurdly, he found a tightness in his throat that prevented him from swallowing; something in the air – was it dust? – that made his eyes blink.
Hiccup didn't know what he'd been expecting, truthfully. He had almost clung to some form of hope. As if tempting Fate could, in one way or another, have an effect on the unfurling events. He knew the Flightmare had been dangerous. He knew it made no sense to hope to see one last dragon. He knew they were all gone – all but one.
Toothless, whose body encircled his family, whose tail rested upon Valka's lap, looked toward the nightlight with an unreadable stare. Perhaps he lingered upon memories just as Hiccup did; he couldn't quite tell.
"… It's not coming." Astrid's skin was luminescent with the radiance it borrowed from Arvendale's Fire. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, of equal parts relief and anguish.
"Mommy, are you sad?" Ylena wasn't capable of grasping the complexity of her mother's feelings, but she caught on to the note of dolefulness in her voice.
Before Astrid had time to reply, Hiccup piped in. "Nobody's gonna feel sad here tonight, come on!" He reached into the satchel hung on Toothless' side and produced a thick glass jar with a metal lid, filled with a clear liquid.
Astrid immediately knew what it was. Now she understood her husband's absence . She looked at Toothless, who seemed expectant; rightfully so.
Hiccup shook the flask before clicking its lid off and setting it down. "Ta-daah!" He announced, nodding encouragingly at his children.
Tryggr eyed the jar with furrowed brows, his lower lip sticking out adorably as he tried to make sense of his father's idea of fun. Ylena frowned. She tapped the glass with her finger. "What's that for?"
"You'll see," Hiccup replied, biting his lips. He grinned when the look on his kids' face went from sceptical to awed, as the water inside the flask took on a glowering blue hue under the effect of the enchanted eos. "Told you!" He winked at the children, smiling, before swiping the jar from beneath their noses and presenting it to the Nigh Fury. "You thirsty, bud?"
Valka looked appalled. Her eyes widened as she saw her son feed Toothless the contents of the jar, and she made to stop them; but Astrid's reassuring hand and soothing smile calmed her down.
"It's okay, Val. They know what they're doing. Watch."
Toothless stood and stretched like a huge furless cat, wings the colour of a starless night spread out around his family. He graced the children with a knowing, gummy smile; they watched in amazement as his gullet and nose began to gleam.
It started out faintly; a dim light that carried out from Toothless' dark hide, almost like a film of ice transpiring from his pores. It coiled into the air in faint, ghostly tendrils, as if an incandescent aura had enveloped him in a mist. Then, suddenly, patches of Toothless' skin were lit up in electric blue, the intensity of the colour and its brightness increasing every second, until he all but stood as a huge lantern of a subliminal gleam.
The children were absolutely thunderstruck, to say the least. The look on their faces was absolutely priceless. Valka wasn't less astounded, for that matter; she laughed, smiling widely for the first time since that evening.
They took the children on a walk through the village on Toothless' back, and Toothless even managed to startle Snotlout – who, for a few moments, actually thought the Flightmare had returned. People smiled and nodded, but couldn't mask the wistful looks on their faces, or the bittersweet upward glances.
This was a night for remembering: the good and the bad, the battles and the harmony. A decade had passed since Arvendale's Fire last showed up; back then, they couldn't have known how conflicted the reoccurrence of the event would make them feel.
By the time Hiccup and Astrid returned to their home, they each carried a sleeping child in their arms.
Hiccup set Ylena down on her little bed, tenderly tucking her in. She stirred, eyes fluttering, fingers searching for her father's hand and clutching around his thumb out of habit.
"Dada…" Her small voice was made even smaller by the weight of her slumber; Hiccup had to lean in so he could listen. "I want to paint the skies…"
He smiled. He caressed her cheek until the grip on his thumb slackened. "And you will," he whispered. "One day, you will."
He kissed both his sleeping little ones before heading to his bedchamber, hand-in-hand with Astrid.
There was no need for words. They both knew what they felt – what it seemed like the whole village felt, really – even though it was hard to explain.
She kissed him the moment the door closed shut.
He helped her off that dress he loved so much.
He did it slowly, unveiling inch by inch of pale skin. Their glassed windows remained uncovered, welcoming the iridescence that poured down from the skies. They lit no candles, for there was no darkness to fight off. It was all glowing light around them, peaceful and quiet, inviting and gentle, just as soft as the feather mattress in which they settled.
They were soon draped in nothing but each other's arms, glimmering like sapphire stars as they made love with hot breaths and practised hands. They shared quivering moans and words of passion, spoken only for the other to hear; an unbroken silence that filled them with serenity.
It was a wonderful night.
...
Nobody remembers the old sayings anymore.
After all, nobody in Berk had ever managed to be intimate during that fateful night. This is a lore long forgotten by the forefathers that first landed in the shores of this island; yet its magic is no less true, and no less powerful.
For the one who is privileged enough to be conceived under the influence of Arvendale's Fire is forever watched by the Gods; they bestow upon the child tremendous luck, blessing them with the most important of divine providences:
Great Fortune.
END
I really enjoyed the Fright of Passage episode in Defenders of Berk. Got me thinking what would it feel like to go through that night again, in ten years' time, assuming the dragons could be gone by then...
A/N: not quite sure how I feel about the name Ylena. I might eventually change it, since it was originally just a placemat name.
Thoughts? Reviews? Rainbow chickens?
(ah, one more thing: I'm basically an atheist, so no, I don't believe in Gods. But these are the Norse Gods I'm talking about, and in the HTTYD settings, and they believe in them. Might as well spice up on some mythology while I'm at it. ;)