DISCLAIMER: i do not own either how to train your dragon or frozen. the characters belong to their respective companies, disney and dreamworks.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hello once again, dear readers! i know it's a little too early to be posting yet another story without having finished the first one, but i just couldn't help it! this was originally a oneshot but it somehow went past the criteria of being a one.

just to make things clear: there's no established romantic relationships here. which means neither hiccstrid nor that much of hiccelsa. hiccup never had the chance to be in a relationship with anyone. though, there will definitely bits of fluff for hiccelsa. no one dies (HOPEFULLY). and i have never watched the series, so there will be a lot of inaccuracies here and there. (feel free to point out my errors!)

and one more thing! the canon events in both httyd and frozen never happened, thus taking place in an alternate universe where their turning points begin when they're in their 20's and when hiccup and elsa meet because why not ;D

(and idk if anyone did this before, so)

enjoy!

[EDITED: 08/20/2020]

Chapter 1

foreign faces

"Never seen a ship tha' big."

"And neither have I."

Hiccup stands by the harbor in anticipation, watching the incoming fleet become larger by the passing second. The longboats were steered to the side of the port, so as to make way for the royal convoys of kingdoms he couldn't care to count. He's certainly garnered the attention of the surrounding island tribes, but word travelled fast as far as the English channel.

"Those beasts really did a number on 'em." Gobber was quick to notice the obvious damage to the mast; a crack nearly splitting the bowsprit in half, and a gaping hole in its foresail. It must've been absolute Hel to navigate through the dragon-infested waters with all the inexperienced men onboard, most of which are likely to never have seen the winged creatures before.

"I'm surprised it survived out there for that long," the younger blacksmith admits, nodding as he sees the scorch marks and missing chunks of wood along its mighty bow the closer it got to dock. The formidable ship did manage to hold off a couple of the blasts without ever sinking, its flag still flying in the air. "Some quality material they've got there."

"A sturdy one, I'd give 'em tha'," his mentor, seemingly impressed by its sheer size, nudged him, and his elbow poked at his ribs—much to his annoyance. He was close to losing his balance as he pushed away Gobber's beefy arm. "Ya hafta ask fer one, if ye go' the time."

"Yeah, I don't know about that." though, he hoped he could persuade them into handing him a ship in exchange for his cooperation. (Hiccup can be a persuasive person, as the Alliance would say.) Imagine the amount of cargo that could fit inside the massive vessel, reducing their round trips to less than what, a dozen? Oh, the possibilities! It'd be relatively easier and safer if they had a modern naval ship of their own. Hiccup decides he'll give it a try.

The once stilled waters rippled into waves as the hull drew closer to Berk's shores. Hiccup can already see the faces of its passengers, more than eager to disembark for their feet to find purchase on land. Their dragon encounters must have been still fresh in their minds, and their reinforced capital offered them some semblance of comfort and a sense of security.

Though Hiccup himself wasn't confident that their fortress would live up to their expectations, it was enough to keep the flying reptiles at bay. He just hoped it was enough. He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the worry working its way to his head, as if to prepare him for their inevitable arrival. His nervousness doesn't go away, however. Ah, nothing like crippling self-doubt and fresh anxiety first thing in the morning.

"There ya ah', son."

Ah, yes, what a great way to start his day.

The current tribe chieftain strides over to where they were, his heart brimming with pride at the sight of his boy; the spitting image of what future leadership could be with a genius mind like his, with the inventions he was capable of creating. Stoick knew he would have no problem handing over Berk in his hands in no time.

"Hey, uh, dad."

Never, for the life of him, did he expect his inventions to become useful in subduing a dragon threat without ever having to slay one. It's almost perfectly timed, from Grimmel's arrival down to their sudden intervention that fateful night, which surprisingly went well. They were pleased with his contraption, finally seeing it for what it was worth, and this earned him praise and a place among the Northern Alliance. Somewhere down along that path, he became a renowned engineer for his anti-dragon ballista and so many more, which also helped Berk in more ways than one.

And Stoick could never have been prouder. Especially after he defected from the tyrannical faction.

"If you hadn't met tha' Night Fury, none of this would've happened."

"Yeah, the Night Fury." Hiccup echoed quietly. He knew where this conversation was going, and he didn't like it. He may have put his father through a lot of distressing situations—being placed in the same room as Drago, negotiating and just plain interacting with Drago in general—but he spoke nothing of it, and instead blamed the root cause of it all.

Merely bringing it up drew a laugh out of his old man. "If only you had killed tha' bastard—"

"I could never kill a dragon, dad." not even if it were to save his life. He'd come to realize that not soon after. That's why he invented the refined versions of his missile-firing weapons and harmless traps, gave them a few tweaks, so as to avoid any direct confrontations with the beasts, and to keep as far away from them as possible. It cut down their number of losses and casualties, and it's better if it were to stay that way. It's a win-win for the two sides, and the best thing is: no one gets hurt.

Unlike the hunters and trappers, Hiccup's intentions were true and out of goodwill. Hiccup had a heart. He held no grudge against the murderous reptiles, after having been spared by one. He saw something no one else has, a kindness that only he received from a particular elusive beast. So he swore on his life to never lay a hand on them, or so much as do any form of harm towards their kind. He would like to make the people do the same. He's rather soft towards them, bearing no prejudice for the fire-breathing creatures.

Just like his mother.

"I'm not sayin' it's a bad thing. To be fair, it opened our shores—changed our way of life as we kno' it."

"Well, I don't like how you keep bringing it up." it's getting redundant, and Hiccup knew the ending to every one, every time he talked about it. He practically got it memorized down to its letter, down to how he stressed each word, and he was growing uncomfortable with it.

"Aye, but you didn't le' me finish."

Clearing his throat, Gobber motioned to the incoming group of foreign nobility. The two turn their heads where the delegates and other important people who hold high titles await them. He pats the boy on the shoulder with his wooden prosthetic. "Tha's yer cue."

"Wait, you mean I'd have to do it?" he whined, feeling the nervousness seep back in. He glanced at his father, who seemed to have no objections letting his son take the lead this time. "Shouldn't you be the one doing all the talking? You—You're the chief!"

"You'll ge' used to it." Stoick smiled tightly, holding him down on his shoulders, easily guiding him to the docks where he would meet their guests of honor. He releases his grip on him, making Hiccup clumsily stumble forward a little.

Warm smiles were sent his way, a friendly gesture that he was still getting used to. And yet, every inch of his body wasn't quite sure how to respond to the simple gesture as his brain was in the middle of a mini breakdown. He still feels betrayed by his father, who all but shoved the responsibility on him, and at the last minute at that! It takes him a second or two to fully process things and think of a proper response. What were words again?

Gobber smacks him in the head, enough to snap him out of his meltdown. First impressions were always crucial, especially when it comes down to foreign relationships and business. It was either make or break, now or never.

It's just a simple greeting, some quick salutations and this will all be over. He'd done this many moons ago, with an audience of barbaric men and women from far and wide. And he can do it again. Right?

Then again, they weren't meatheads who only heed the words of a strong, powerful hero. These were civilized people who would listen to people like him. (Probably. Hopefully.)

"Everyone, er…" he paused, swallowing a lump down his throat. He closes and opens his fists, drumming his fingers to the side of his thighs. He licked his lips, cleared his throat a couple of times, and finally, he straightened his back as he found the courage to continue. "Welcome to Berk, ladies, gentlemen."

Hiccup supplied them with a shaky smile, the crooked corners of his mouth twitching as if he was having a problem with his motor controls, because he had no idea what in Hel he was supposed to do. The poor boy felt like he was about to throw up on the spot as all their eyes are all fixated on him; heavy and watchful, and it's enough to make a grown man like him queasy.

"Lord Haddock, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person." the representatives collectively bowed.

"Y-Yes, me too…?"

Hiccup inwardly cursed at himself the way his voice cracked at the beginning.

Oh Odin help him.

"Is he alright—?"

The question was cut off when a man doubled over by the edge of the pier, barely able to hold it in anymore. His face was green and pale, looking totally wasted and unwell. Most likely from seasickness and a developing dragon trauma, Hiccup diagnoses. His knees buckled to the wooden floorboards, hands braced and gripped onto the plank to steady himself.

Another wave of nausea hits him, cheeks inflated, and he smacks a hand to his mouth to turn around, emptying out the contents of his stomach. When he turned to once again face the rest of the party, Hiccup could see how the retch stained the front of his dark fuchsia vest, his saliva dripping from his lips, and the stench of bile was strong in the air.

Needless to say, it wasn't a pretty sight to see. A man with a hook for a hand hoisted him to his feet, handing him a hanky to wipe off the residue on his chin and shirt. Hook-hand then slapped his bare hand to the man's back as a form of reassuring pat, which reassured nobody. If anything, it prompted the seasick man to gag, and made him rethink his life choices. He couldn't do anything but feel sorry for the guy.

"Oh boy," Gobber scrunched his nose and turned on his heel to holler at Tuffnut for a bucket of water. "We'll fix somethin' for the fella." Hiccup passed him a thankful nod as Tuffnut went to find soothing herbs and a drink for the man.

The tribe chieftain beckoned for the group to proceed with Gobber to their destination. They were also free to acquaint themselves with Hiccup if they so wished.

The newcomers go in a single file to firmly shake hands with him, introducing themselves by their status, and which kingdoms they hail from. The Southern Isles. Clans Dunbroch, Dingwall, Macintosh, and MacGuffin. And the seven kingdoms, to name a few.

"Your lordship! I am the Duke of Weselton." a short man chirped. He dipped his head for a bow, his toupee detaching from his scalp as he did, as Hiccup awkwardly stands there.

Wheeze? Weasly—wait, what was it again? Weasel. Got it. He subconsciously took notes of their names, faces, where they're from, taking each and every one of them into account.

Quickly, he looked up to see his face. "So great to finally be here, in your fortified little island! Such a… lovely place! You don't happen to have the dragons on site, now do you?"

"Well, we do. Mostly, it's for drills and exercises where we, uh, find all about their weaknesses and such."

As the Duke nodded in understanding and went to join the others, Hiccup heard something along the lines that the rumors are true. Hiccup didn't mind the little man's babblings as he prepared himself for the next one in the queue.

"Eugene… Fitzherbert, prince consort… of Corona." he announced weakly, holding out the hand he used for wiping the leftover puke, to which Hiccup hesitantly shook. He didn't get to finish, as Eugene had sprinted for the end of the pier to let out one last round of what used to be his breakfast. This one, he decided, was going to be vomit guy.

Among the others, there was a man the size of his dad walking with a limp. The Bear King, as they'd like to call him. Talks a funny accent. Peg-legged and has red, curly locks. Someone he came to know as his uncle Fergus. "Yep, here it comes—"

Firm hands land and clamp on his shoulders, shaking him with enthusiasm. If he could, he'd pull him in a crushing hug and there was no way of Hiccup escaping his iron grip. Fergus smiled instead at the sight of his nephew. "Hiccup! 'S good te' see ya again, laddie!"

"Yeah, missed you too, uncle Fergus." he managed to say under his strained breath, feeling the life being squeezed out of him.

"Could do a wee bette' wi' ya speech," Fergus pinched his fingers to stress his point, giving him a pointed nod as his uncle finally let him go. "Lest ya wanna take a lesson er two from the lassie."

His booming guffaws were contagious, making Hiccup laugh as well, laughing away the nervousness he previously had. Oh, this reminded him of when they were kids, and the stories he'd tell, with Merida finishing his sentences for him. Gods, he missed his cousins, even if for a little bit. No formalities were required, no business involved, no nothing. Just pure chaos and mischief.

Stoick then greeted the fellow warrior, his brother in arms, now crowned as king. And he couldn't have been more prouder about it.

And right after the lords of the three clans commented on how Hiccup had grown a couple of inches, how he resembled his mother and told him many other things, a set of unfamiliar faces appeared before him clad in dark clothing. They seemed mournful as they stopped to greet him. The royal couple of Arendelle, perhaps, all sullen and gloomy. It was their first time there, and his first time meeting them, so he'd no idea what they looked like. Not exactly how he pictured them, honestly.

"King Agnarr and Queen Iduna?" he guessed, looking between the pair, only to be met with a sorrowful expression.

"Arendelle sends their regards as they're unable to attend," the man explained cautiously, careful not to offend them in the presence of the other leaders and dignitaries. "Though, our kingdom offers some of our ships as a token of their gratitude for granting us an audience with the chieftain and his son."

Hiccup guessed he didn't have to ask after all. In the end, he got what he wanted. He's more than grateful for the gifts, sure, but he couldn't help but feel they didn't fully disclose their true reason, and as if there should have been someone else with them. Whatever it was, he's sure to find out. For now, his focus should be on his guests, which was to show them around, as per their request.

Flocking by the harbor, the ambassadors walked and obediently followed wherever Gobber went.

Seeing that there were no longer any guests to be entertained, Hiccup catches up to where the rest of them were.

Stoick fell behind so he could speak with his son. "See? Tha' wasn't so bad."

"For you, it isn't. Sure." he released a quivering breath, wiping his clammy hands on the pant of his legs.

His father sensed his discomfort a bit too late. "I can take over if ya need me to."

"No, it's fine. I think I'll be fine." he assured him, realizing the purpose of this tasking portion. It's all a part of grooming him into an ideal chief, where a lot of speech was regularly involved. Hiccup was just relieved that the hard part was over, and he can talk with them about his works with ease, since he knew everything there is to know about his contraptions.

Being a weapons master and inventor certainly had its perks. He enjoyed the attention he received and respect he'd finally deserved from his village, but it also had its downside. It had a couple of minor setbacks in his social life, like missing out on some quality time with kids his age, missing out on ever getting to know Astrid who, by now probably had kids, or even a family of her own. He soon discovered that his childhood crush had moved out of their tribe to search for lands with warmer weather and greener grass.

He was informed two days later since he was often away on numerous meetings and gatherings while he was still a member of the Alliance. Hiccup had expanded his influences, bringing riches to his people and opening trade, but at what cost? Simple. A future with Astrid!

Even though he knew it was a long shot, even if she not even once had recognized his existence, he still thought he had a chance. But all that went down the drain when she sailed to who knows where doing who knows what.

And he keeps asking the gods why on earth did she have to leave, only to be met with stacks of deadlines and counseling and more chiefly duties his father had brought upon him. After he left the Alliance, he was always busy, busy, busy. He couldn't spare a minute for himself these days, aside from planning out the blueprints for his newest models. But it does help keep his mind off things—things that should no longer matter to him. His people are his top priority now, and so much so their safety and well-being.

Not only does his engineering help heighten the defenses against dragons for both his tribe and the buyers there to purchase it, they establish ties with new trade partners and strengthen bonds with old ones. The rulers have come to an agreement, promising them goods and most importantly, livestock, which tend to disappear on their island. (He's still working on toughening up their enclosures.) They each benefit and gain something out of it. So he guessed he could say all his hard work had its pay off.

"Now, where were we?"

Picking up from where they last left, Hiccup leads them to the training grounds. They were now within the dome, with chains and iron bars for a ceiling and stone walls facing them from every direction; scorched silhouettes of Vikings decorating its sides. This was where the testing began, where heavy artillery and prototypes can be found in every corner of the area, with skilled builders and carpenters assembling massive replicas of his many sketches.

Oh, and kids too.

"It's Hiccup!" the teens adorably waved at them as they entered the arena, and Hiccup waved back.

"You allow children inside?!"

"This is where their parents send them for dragon classes. Just the usual."

"Don't you prep them?"

"Wha' bette' way is ther' than learnin' on the job?" Gobber chuckled.

"It's dangerous here!"

Not if you don't count the spikes and saws and nails. The place was practically baby-proof.

Eugene almost faints when he sees the cutting blades and sharp, pointy bolts haphazardly scattered on the floor.

Though, the kids only use the place to hone their abilities in fending off the dragons and defending themselves. Sometimes, they even let the children test-drive his projects to see if it's fit for them to use. Hiccup made extra sure that they were available and convenient for all ages, which may or may not be a terrible idea, but it's best to start them young. Better safe than sorry, as they say.

"Fascinatin'…" Macintosh's son commented, awed by the machines on display. "When do we slay the dragons?"

"Woah, woah, there'll be no slaying, no—"

Dingwall's boy tilted his head in question. "Do we ge' te' see 'em at least?"

There was a gasp of shock and exchanging of disapproving looks among the crowd. They've seen plenty of them on their travels, so the chances of the dragons appearing on their request should be fairly low. Hiccup wouldn't want to scare them off.

"It… depends." was Hiccup's vague answer. Sighs of relief can be heard in unison.

"Moving on! Here we have the catapults," he gestured to the towering structure with a metallic dome. "You maybe wondering: what's the difference? It's just an ordinary catapult. Nothing's so special about it, correct?"

Until he hurried over to a wall with a lever sticking out of it. He cranked it down, triggering a set of pulleys to transport a thick iron material dangling above them.

"Everyone stand back!" he exclaimed, allowing them to distance themselves from the catapult before letting molten lava pour over where the operator would usually be. The dome acted as an umbrella, covering the space from the lava. Jaws dropped simultaneously in the audience as they watched the deadly liquid slide right off. "We're still working on how we'd incorporate it with the other designs, or how it can be used as an effective shield for your defenses."

Unlike the regular old catapults, his renditions are reinforced with heavy armor and have stronger resistance to flames and rain by using a special type of steel. And more were lined up for the representatives to choose from, down to spiky designs and nearly automated firing, they got it all.

He worked with the brilliant minds of dragon hunters when he was sixteen, and aided in the advancement and improvement of their equipment's performance. He's had enough experience in this field to even create a new making of his own, which was already in the works. Right now, he's focused on these finished products to help as many as he could.

Majority of the dignitaries marveled at the complex structures standing in front of them. Some were not so easily pleased. Much like how Grimmel requested a custom-made launcher suited for long-range aims, and how its early stages did not meet his standards. (Which resulted with them scrapping the entire thing.)

The lords and kings also had their own inputs about their designs and have sent their own modifications to fit their needs. Like in Arendelle and other island kingdoms, they need to install it in the water, similar to Berk's formation as they too were surrounded by the sea. They had to have the exact measurements and materials needed for their machines to function properly in varying terrains and climates.

"I was told you have the technology to incapacitate the devils, but this is beyond what I have imagined," the representative of Westergard, the eldest prince as he learned about from the letters, appeared impressed at his large-scale projects. "Would you mind showing us how to operate one?"

"Yes. I'll get them right away—"

"We'll be expecting them once they're completed. No rush here. Do fill us in on how it all works."

Hiccup nodded as he went over to a concealed model, grabbing the sheets that cover it to reveal his first ever contraption that brought down the Night Fury. "Everyone, may I present to you… The Mangler!"

The weapon that started it all.

"See, this little thing immobilizes them. Allow me to demonstrate," Hiccup explains briefly, picking up a bola from the ground, then moving onto the next part. He loads it into the chamber, letting the contraption spread its arms like a crossbow, and aims it skywards. His guests watched in excitement when he pulled the trigger, allowing it to fly in the air like a fishing net and tangle itself around the chains above them with a resounding thunk. Not long after, it loosened by itself and falls and clatters to the ground.

"I put in an extra feature so it unlocks itself, so the dragon can escape on its own and no longer bother you."

Hiccup then produces a phial of purple liquid from the compartment in his chest plate. "There's also another way of… capturing them. It's for closed-space encounters, and you use this guy in small doses to put them to sleep."

He held the glass container with caution for them to examine, before returning it to the safety of his armor. "But only for a specific amount of time—oh, and it depends on what class of dragon it is."

"Class? You mean there's an entire study about them?"

"Oh, definitely. And we have just the person for—"

"I highly suggest you get a copy of the manual," another Viking emerges out of nowhere from the arena, with a small childlike face and the size of a bear, trailing behind them. "It gives you an idea how to counter their attacks, and so on and so forth. But might I interest you with some fast facts about—"

"This is Fishlegs Ingerman, our dragon expert."

He introduced the taller boy, never letting him finish another word as they moved to the next collection. Who knows when he'll shut up about dragon information and their rank in terms of speed and agility and so on. It's useful, yes, but their visit was very limited.

Hiccup does eventually let Fishlegs help him explain and show them the basic procedures, what to do and what not to do if in case it suddenly fails due to a tiny error. They seemed to catch on, and he even let them try it out for themselves for the fun of it. Fergus managed to break a handle with his brute strength. Duke Weasel was nearly thrown off a launcher seat. The youngest prince of the Southern Isles was flung into a nearby table when he unknowingly stepped in the line of fire, and fortunately no one else was hurt. Except for the prince.

The party tailed after him like a tour guide in their little field trip as they went around to teach them the mechanics, and overall knowledge about his works. Then, Eugene moves a few steps ahead to match Hiccup's pace. "The kid, Fishman over there, he mentioned something about a manual? Also, if you don't mind, can I get something for my headache?"

"We'll get to that in a bit."

Walking over to a table cluttered with messy handwriting, a box of tools and blots of ink staining its wooden surface, Hiccup retrieves said book, tossing it towards the Coronian prince. "Think fast, Eugene."

"O-Oh." the man catches the leather book full in his hands.

"In your hands, Eugene, is the key to understanding them. How they feed, how they go on about their lives. It's all there." Hiccup smiled, watching as all eyes land on the manual, wanting a piece of it, wanting to get a hold of it and have it in their possession.

With a signal of his hand, the twins wheeled in a cart filled with manuals through the ongoing construction. Ruffnut brought the drink to relieve the prince consort's seasickness and blew a kiss at Eugene, who shuddered uncomfortably at the gesture, shielding his face with the guidebook. (He's married, for Thor's sake!)

"Don't worry, there are already enough copies for everyone."

Hiccup has thought about it this far. Yes, he's giving away their knowledge about the dragons, as they should, and it's for the betterment of the world. The more they understand them, the higher the chance they might change their minds about the beasts, and coexisting with them could become a reality without the option of ever killing them. It might even help the hunters and the Alliance see reason. (If they could.)

And maybe, just maybe, one day they'll be able to… tame them. The world might not be ready for it yet, but he's trying to open their eyes bit by bit, starting with something small as this. Maybe, with little steps, they could actually make them see.

"So, any questio—"

Toward the end of his sentence, somewhere in the back, a rolling barrel catches on fire. There was an explosion strong enough to rattle the entire ring, drawing shouts and cries of confusions from the foreigners in their mother tongue. He remembered just then they had the dragons released for training on Thursdays. Curse him for scheduling in such a rush and not realizing this sooner. No matter. So, there's a couple of them on the loose; it was nothing they couldn't handle. His patrons weren't in danger (yet).

The group collectively craned their necks to see the chaos unfolding, watching as the Viking fire brigade gathered buckets of water to douse the burning item.

"Monstrous Nightmare at six o'clock!" Snotlout cried, sprinting away in his smoking trousers which revealed his undies.

The warning sent them cowering, running in circles, hiding behind the ballista and canons for cover. Fergus and Stoick maintained a casual conversation whilst staying perfectly calm in the middle of the open space, where they were easy targets for the monsters.

"We can fix that! In the meantime," Hiccup's voice rose in a mix of panic and embarrassment as he ushered the crowd to the nearby exit to clear the grounds. "Why don't we go to the mess hall where we're far from the fire. Just a quick detour, yeah?"

"When ah' we meetin' the dragons?!" one of the lords' sons demanded.

"We're not. We still don't have them under—" a flying shield hits the wall where Hiccup's head would have been if he hadn't ducked. "—Control."

"That's my son!" Stoick cheered from behind the crowd as he chatted away with Fergus.

"You have a very good reaction time." half of them who were still on their feet complimented, which Hiccup replied with a sheepish smile.

"Right, let's go so we don't get our faces burned off—"

Another object nearly gets him in the head. Another round of applause for his impeccable reflexes. "—Shall we?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: AND THATS THE E ND OF THE CHAPTER

(poor eugene)

also, i've been sitting on this one for a month or two already, and it's finally hERE!

this all began with 'what if hiccup never had the chance to befriend toothless? what if he became someone like grimmel and served under his wing?'

and that is how i had this random idea about grimmel being the reason why hiccup and toothless never came to be the inseparable pair we all know and love. bc grimmel takes toothless from hiccup. yes! grimmel! just! did! THAT! (emphasis on takes.) and yes i am bringing his ass back because, ngl, his character had so much potential that it was a shame they didn't get to fully flesh him out. (would have loved a backstory, tho.)

but enough about that old fart! what do you think about the new, dragon-less isle of berk, and a world full of dragons? how does grimmel change and shape hiccup's future? i'd love to hear about your thoughts!

also, stay safe people! never forget to wear your masks when outside!