11. Of love and loss
Several months later
Even now, the word "Mom" felt strange on Hiccup's tongue, like a foreign language he was still learning to speak.
Summer had painted the Defenders' island in vibrant greens and golds, so different from the stark whites and greys of Berk, but it was the woman before him that still seemed the most surreal part of his new reality.
Valka Haddock – dragon whisperer, legendary rider, and apparently, his not-so-dead mother.
"Your stance is too rigid," she called now, circling him on Cloudjumper as Hiccup and Toothless performed aerial maneuvers above the training grounds. "Let the movement flow through you, like water over stones. Dragons respond to—"
"To intention more than direction, yeah, I got it," Hiccup finished, unable to keep the edge from his voice. Two decades of absence didn't erase themselves overnight, no matter how much shared dragon knowledge bridged the gap. "Been riding for a while now, you know."
"Of course." Her voice carried that careful neutrality he'd come to recognize – the tone of someone trying very hard not to overstep. "I just thought…"
"That you'd make up for twenty years of missing teaching moments all at once?" The words came out sharper than he'd intended, making him wince.
"Sorry. That was…"
"Honest," she finished softly. "You're allowed to be angry, Hiccup."
Below them, the training grounds buzzed with activity as several dragon riders were working with their newly bonded dragons. The sight still struck him as surreal sometimes.
"I'm not angry," he said finally, guiding Toothless into a gentler glide. "I'm just… adjusting, I guess. To all of this. To you being…"
He gestured vaguely with his free hand, not really able to form a word for what he felt.
"Alive?" There was a hint of wry humor in her voice that reminded him uncomfortably of his own tendency toward sardonic deflection.
"Present? Attempting rather awkwardly to mother a son who's already grown?"
"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds almost normal." He attempted a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Just your typical family reunion. Plus dragons. And war preparations. And occasional existential crises about whether I'm more awkward now than I was at fifteen, which is really saying something."
Valka's laugh carried on the wind – a sound he was still learning to recognize as belonging to his mother. "You certainly inherited your father's gift for understatement." Her expression softened. "And his heart. The way you've helped these riders find their way with dragons…"
Hiccup glanced down again, watching as Fishlegs carefully approached his newly bonded Gronckle with an offering of rocks. The large Viking's face shone with the same wonder Hiccup remembered feeling when he first began to understand dragons weren't the monsters they'd believed them to be.
"They just needed to see another way was possible," he said quietly. "Like I did. Like you did."
"Speaking of other ways…" Valka's tone shifted to something that made Hiccup's stomach drop. "You've been making an awful lot of trips to Arendelle lately."
Of all the- he'd just met her a few months ago and they were already having this talk?
Hiccup didn't know whether to be embarrassed or downright scared. His companion warbled what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Traitor.
"Well, you know," he attempted casualness, "got to maintain diplomatic relations. Can't exactly unite humans and dragons if we're not… relating. Diplomatically. With humans. And dragons. In places. Like Arendelle."
"Mhmm." His mother's knowing look was entirely too knowing for someone who'd missed his entire adolescence. "And these diplomatic relations wouldn't happen to involve a certain young queen?"
"What? No! I mean, yes, Queen Elsa is obviously involved because she's the queen and that's how kingdoms work, but it's not – we're not – it's purely professional. Completely professional. Professional to the point of being boring, really. Just lots of meetings about very boring things like… trade routes. And fishing quotas. For the dragons. Because dragons eat fish. Which you know. Because you're also a dragon person. And I'm going to stop talking now."
"Hiccup." His mother's voice carried equal parts amusement and sympathy. "I may have missed your childhood, but I remember what it's like to be young and in love."
"Who said anything about love?" His voice definitely didn't crack on the last word. "There's no love. Zero love. Negative love, if that's possible. Just very professional respect between two people who happen to be working together to save the world. Or at least the immediate geographical area. Through completely platonic means."
"Of course." Valka guided Cloudjumper closer, her expression gentle. "Though I must say, for someone claiming such professional distance, you certainly spend a lot of time staring at the horizon in the direction of Arendelle's fjords."
"I do not!" He paused.
"Wait, have you been watching me? Is this a mom thing? Because I feel like we should establish some boundaries about stalking your adult son's completely non-existent love life."
"So there is a love life to be non-existent about?"
"That's not – I didn't – you're twisting my words!" He groaned, slumping forward in the saddle. "Toothless, a little help here?"
The Night Fury's response was to perform a playful barrel roll that nearly unseated his rider.
"Oh, perfect. Even my own dragon's against me." Hiccup straightened, trying to regain some dignity. "Look, Mom, I appreciate the… concern? Interest? Weirdly specific observation of my geographical gazing habits? But there's nothing going on with Queen Elsa. She's just… she's…"
"Beautiful?" Valka suggested innocently. "Intelligent? Powerful? Possessed of a similar understanding of what it's like to be different?"
"I was going to say 'busy running a kingdom,' but thanks for that completely unhelpful addition to my existential crisis." He ran a hand through his wind-tousled hair. "Besides, shouldn't you be asking about Astrid? Or Heather? Isn't that what everyone expected?"
His mother's expression turned thoughtful. "Is that what you expected?"
"I… maybe? Once?" He sighed, watching as below them, Snotlout attempted to impress his Monstrous Nightmare with increasingly dramatic poses. "Astrid was… she was everything Berk valued. Everything I thought I wanted to be. And Heather… she understood about dragons, about wanting to protect them. But…"
"But neither of them made your eyes light up quite like they do when you're talking about a certain queen?" Valka's smile was gentle. "Or had you rushing back to their kingdom every few days just to see them smile?"
"I do not – that's not – I have very legitimate reasons for those trips!" Hiccup spluttered. "Important… strategic… completely professional reasons!"
"Such as?"
"Such as… testing wind patterns! For optimal dragon flight paths. And… studying the effects of different climates on dragon scales. And… maintaining important diplomatic relationships through… regular… diplomatic… maintaining."
"I see." His mother's voice carried so much amusement it should have been illegal.
"And these studies require you to return specifically during Arendelle's sunset council meetings? The ones where, I'm told, a certain queen likes to walk in the castle gardens afterward?"
Hiccup's face felt hot enough to rival a Nightmare's flame.
"How do you even – who's telling you – is nothing sacred anymore?"
"Mothers have their ways," Valka said mysteriously. "Also, Thora may have mentioned something about finding you and Queen Elsa having rather intense 'strategic discussions' in said gardens last week."
"We were discussing battle formations!"
"With your faces that close together?"
"It was… windy? Had to lean in to hear the… strategic… things being discussed. Strategically." Hiccup groaned again.
"Can we go back to the awkward flying lessons? Those were better than this."
Valka laughed – a full, rich sound that made something in Hiccup's chest ache with the weight of lost years. "Oh, my son. You are so very like your father sometimes. He was just as terrible at hiding his feelings."
The mention of Stoick sobered them both. Hiccup felt the familiar weight of grief settle over him, though it was different now – shared between them rather than carried alone.
"I wish-" he started softly, then stopped.
"I know," his mother replied, equally quiet. "Me too."
They flew in silence for a while, watching as below them, the former Berkians continued their training. Fishlegs had progressed to actually mounting his Gronckle, his face a mix of terror and delight. Snotlout had somehow ended up being chased by his Nightmare, though the dragon's playful warbles suggested this was more game than genuine pursuit.
"She makes you happy," Valka said finally, her voice gentle. "Anyone with eyes can see that. The way you light up when someone mentions Arendelle, how you can't help smiling when you talk about her ice magic…"
"Mom…"
"I'm not trying to pressure you," she assured him quickly. "Gods know I have no right to meddle in your life after being absent from it for so long. I just… I want you to know it's okay. To feel what you feel. To want something for yourself, beyond duty and dragons and saving the world."
Hiccup was quiet for a long moment, watching the sun begin its descent toward the horizon. Toward Arendelle's fjords, though he would deny under torture that he'd noticed this fact.
"She understands," he said finally, so quietly it was almost lost in the wind. "Not just about being different, about having powers others fear. She understands what it's like to want to protect people, even when they don't understand why you're doing it. To love something – someone – enough to risk everything for them."
Valka's smile was soft with memory. "Like someone else I know."
"Yeah, well…" Hiccup shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. "Doesn't matter anyway. We've got a war to prepare for, kingdoms to protect, dragons to train… Not exactly the best time for… whatever this isn't. Which it isn't. Because there's nothing to be anything. At all."
"Mmhmm." His mother's knowing look was back. "So I suppose you won't be making another trip to Arendelle tomorrow? For purely strategic reasons, of course."
"I… that is… there might be some very important… strategic… things that need… strategizing…" He glared as both Toothless and Cloudjumper made sounds suspiciously like laughter. "Oh, sure, laugh it up."
Toothless responded by executing another playful roll, this one accompanied by a plasma blast that painted the clouds above them in brilliant purple light. Show-off.
"Well," Valka said with entirely too much cheerfulness, "far be it from me to interfere with such important strategic planning. After all, you might want to let at least a few people know about this. At the very least, before Thora starts taking bets on how many more 'diplomatic visits' it will take for you two to kiss in front of everyone?"
"They're betting on – you know what? No. We're done here. This conversation is over. Toothless, what do you say we practice some of those new diving maneuvers? Far away from here?"
But as they wheeled away through the golden evening light, Hiccup couldn't quite suppress his smile. Because maybe – just maybe – his mother had a point about those sunset council meetings. Not that he'd ever admit it.
Not yet anyway.
Dawn broke over the Defenders' island in ribbons of amber and rose, painting the morning mist in colors that reminded Hiccup of Toothless's plasma blasts. He stood at the cliff's edge, watching as the first dragons of the day took wing, their scales catching the early light like scattered gems against the brightening sky.
"You're up early." His mother's voice carried on the morning breeze, followed by Cloudjumper's distinctive wing beats. "Though I suppose some habits are harder to break than others."
"Yeah, well." Hiccup's lips quirked in a half-smile as Valka dismounted beside him. "Five years of dawn patrols tend to leave their mark. Even if there's not much left to patrol anymore."
The weight of Berk's loss hung between them like storm clouds on the horizon. Valka's hand found his shoulder, her touch still tentative even after months of rebuilding their relationship.
"They would be proud of you, you know. Your father, the elders… seeing how you've helped the survivors find their way with dragons."
Below them, the training grounds were beginning to stir. Fishlegs's voice carried up the cliff face, lecturing an enthusiastic Gustav about proper Gronckle care while Snotlout attempted to demonstrate what he called "advanced Nightmare handling techniques" – which mostly seemed to involve a lot of posturing and getting singed.
"I'm not sure pride is what they'd feel," Hiccup said quietly. "I ran, Mom. Before the final trial. Before I could-" He gestured vaguely at the scene below. "Before I could show them another way was possible. Maybe if I'd stayed…"
"Then you'd be dead too." The sharpness in Valka's voice made him turn. "Drago doesn't leave survivors among those who resist him. You know this."
"But—"
"No buts." She moved to stand before him, and for a moment, Hiccup saw the warrior who'd survived two decades alone among dragons. "You did exactly what I did – you chose to protect the dragons, to find another way. And now you're teaching others to do the same."
As if to emphasize her point, a chorus of excited shouts rose from below. They turned to see the twins, of all people, successfully managing to guide their Zippleback through a complex series of training obstacles without setting anything (or anyone) on fire.
Hmm. Perhaps there was hope after all.
"They're learning," Hiccup admitted, unable to keep the pride from his voice. "Faster than I expected, actually. Even Snotlout's starting to understand that dragons respond better to trust than intimidation."
"They have good teachers." Valka's smile held a hint of mischief. "Though perhaps we should show them what truly advanced riding looks like? For educational purposes, of course."
Before Hiccup could respond, she was back on Cloudjumper, the great Stormcutter already spreading his wings. "Coming, son?"
The challenge in her voice sparked something in him – something that felt like coming home, even as it ached with twenty years of absence.
"What do you say, bud? Show them how it's done?"
Toothless's answering warble was pure excitement. They took to the air in perfect sync, the morning thermals carrying them higher as the training grounds fell away below.
What followed was a dance of dragons and riders, mother and son weaving through the air in patterns that spoke of shared blood and shared understanding. Valka showed him tricks she'd learned in her years among dragons – how to read the subtle shifts in wing patterns that telegraphed a dragon's intentions, how to move as one with their rhythms and flows.
"Watch this," she called, guiding Cloudjumper into a complex spiral. "Dragons have pressure points, just like humans. Each species has their own secrets." She demonstrated on her own dragon, touching specific spots that made Cloudjumper's spines flex and shift in ways Hiccup had never seen.
"Toothless might have a few surprises of his own," she added with a knowing smile. Before Hiccup could question her, she'd maneuvered Cloudjumper alongside them, reaching out to press specific points along Toothless's spine.
The change was immediate and incredible. Double rows of spinal fins split and extended, completely changing the Night Fury's profile. Toothless let out a delighted roar, testing his new configuration with a series of athletic twists that had Hiccup clutching the saddle.
"How did you—" he started, but was cut off by his own whoop of excitement as Toothless demonstrated exactly what those new fins could do. Their maneuverability had doubled, maybe tripled, each turn tighter and more precise than before.
"Every dragon has its secrets," Valka called as they leveled out. "Just as every rider has hidden strengths."
The serious note in her voice made him turn to look at her. Below them, the training session had paused, all eyes turned skyward to watch their aerial display.
"Mom…" He hesitated, the weight of their situation settling back over him. "Drago's armada… you've seen it. The size of it. The weapons he has. The dragons he's enslaved. How can we possibly—"
"You have the heart of a chief and the soul of a dragon," she cut him off, her voice carrying absolute conviction. "That combination? That's something Drago can never understand, never defeat. You alone can unite our worlds, Hiccup. Because you see both sides – the human and the dragon – and you understand that protecting one means protecting the other."
They landed back at the training grounds to find an eager audience waiting. Questions about Toothless's new fins came rapid-fire, especially from Fishlegs, who was already pulling out his notebook to document everything.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of teaching and learning. Valka showed them pressure points for different dragon species while Hiccup demonstrated advanced flight techniques. They worked together seamlessly, their shared knowledge complementing each other in ways that made the lessons flow naturally.
"You know," Valka said quietly as they watched Astrid master a particularly tricky maneuver with her new Nadder, "I used to dream about this. Teaching you everything I knew about dragons. I just… never imagined it would happen quite like this."
The admission caught him off guard. They rarely spoke directly about the years of separation, dancing around the subject like a wound not quite healed.
"Better late than never?" he offered, trying for lightness but hearing the question in his own voice.
"Better than never," she agreed softly. Then, with a slight smile: "Though I notice you still haven't explained exactly why you sometimes forget to take off your mask after long flights."
"Mom!"
Their laughter carried across the training grounds, drawing curious looks from the others. But for once, Hiccup didn't mind. Because maybe this – this strange, delayed, dragon-filled version of family – was exactly what they both needed.
As the day wore on and storm clouds gathered on the horizon, Hiccup found himself studying his mother's face, seeing echoes of himself in her expressions, her gestures. The way she spoke with her hands when excited about dragons. The dry humor that crept into her voice when dealing with Snotlout's bravado.
They were more alike than different, really.
Both had chosen to protect dragons when everyone around them saw only monsters. Both had fled rather than compromise what they believed in. And both had found their way back to family, even if it wasn't quite the way either had expected.
The future loomed dark with Drago's threat, but watching his mother demonstrate a complex flight pattern to the newest riders, Hiccup felt something like hope take wing in his chest. Because maybe she was right – maybe the ability to bridge worlds, to see beyond what others thought possible, was exactly what they needed.
Dragons Edge was a far cry from the Island Hiccup had left.
Dawn had barely kissed the horizon when Hiccup guided Toothless toward the silhouette of the hidden cove rising from the morning mist. Behind him, Valka and Cloudjumper followed, their massive wings cutting through the golden light that painted the clouds in shades of amber and rose.
"Welcome to Dragon's Edge," Hiccup called over his shoulder as they approached. "Or what I like to call 'what happens when you give a sleep-deprived inventor too much time and too many trees.'"
But his attempted levity couldn't mask the pride in his voice as the morning fog parted to reveal his creation in all its glory. The Edge rose from the cliffs like a dream made manifest – his dream. A sprawling network of platforms, bridges, and buildings that seemed to grow organically from the rock itself. Dragons of all species roosted in carefully crafted perches, their scales catching the dawn light like scattered jewels.
Valka's sharp intake of breath was audible even over the wind. "Hiccup… this is…"
"A work in progress?" He guided Toothless in a wide arc, giving her the full view. "Yeah, it started as just a place to think, to work out ideas without… well, without anyone telling me they wouldn't work. But then after Berk…" His voice caught. "After everything, it became something more."
They landed on the central platform, where elaborate mechanical winches and pulleys controlled a series of defensive positions. Hiccup dismounted, watching as his mother took in the intricate network of levers and counterweights with wide eyes.
"You designed all of this?" She ran a hand over a perfectly balanced catapult mechanism, wonder clear in her voice. Hiccup felt warm and fuzzy inside. This was probably the first time in recent history he'd done something that had made either of his parents proud.
"Had a lot of time to think about defense systems that didn't involve killing dragons." Hiccup moved to a control panel, demonstrating how a single lever could activate multiple systems at once. "See, this triggers the underground stables to lock down while simultaneously deploying the outer perimeter shields. And this…"
He pulled another lever, and suddenly the seemingly solid platform beneath them split apart, revealing a network of channels designed to direct dragons' fire into focused streams. "Gronckle lava channels," he explained, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. "They can be used either defensively or to forge metal right here on the platform. The heat distribution system runs through the whole structure, actually. We can maintain a forge at any major point in the Edge."
"Extraordinary," Valka breathed, following him as he moved through his creation with the ease of long familiarity. "And these markings here?"
"Night Fury landing pads," he grinned, patting one of the specially reinforced platforms. "Toothless's plasma blasts are pretty unique in terms of impact force, so I had to design specific—" He caught himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I'm rambling about engineering details again, aren't I?"
But his mother's smile held nothing but pride and something that might have been regret. "Twenty years of invention I missed," she said softly. "Please, ramble all you want."
So he did. He showed her the automated feeding stations he'd designed for different dragon species, each calibrated to their specific dietary needs. The network of underground hot springs he'd discovered and integrated into the Edge's heating system. The specialized training areas with adjustable difficulty levels for different rider skill sets.
"And this," he said, leading her into what appeared to be a simple stable, "is probably my favorite innovation."
He pressed a hidden lever, and suddenly the walls transformed. Panels shifted and rotated, revealing an intricate medical bay specifically designed for dragon care. "Each station can be adjusted for different species, and the lighting can be changed to help calm agitated dragons, and there's a whole ventilation system for administering healing vapors…"
"You've thought of everything," Valka stated imply.
"Not everything." His voice turned quiet. "Couldn't think of a way to save Berk."
The weight of those words hung in the air between them until Valka stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But you saved its heart," she said firmly. "Look."
She gestured out the window, where they could see the newer additions to the Edge. The areas where the surviving Berkians had begun to make their mark. Fishlegs had already established a sprawling dragon library, its walls covered in meticulously detailed drawings and notes. Snotlout had somehow turned his living quarters into a combination training ground and shrine to his own perceived greatness. There was even a statue of him doing a….bellyflop?
The twins- well, their contribution was mostly structural chaos that somehow hadn't collapsed yet, which was actually rather impressive in its own way.
"They're making it home," Hiccup observed softly, watching as below them, Gustav led a group of younger riders through basic flight drills in the training arena.
"Because you gave them a place to call home," Valka replied. "A place where dragons and humans live as equals, as partners. This isn't just a fortress, Hiccup. It's a vision. Of what's possible when we work together."
They spent the rest of the morning exploring the Edge's defenses. Hiccup proudly demonstrated the intricate system of warning bells he'd designed, each tuned to a different frequency that dragons would respond to. The network of fire prevention systems that could flood threatened areas while protecting sensitive equipment. The hidden caves he'd mapped out as emergency shelters, each stocked with supplies and accessible by both ground and air. As well as the overall camouflage designs that he planned to use when they had to finally leave the Edge for a bit and head towards Arendelle.
"It's all so well thought out," Valka mused as they reached the highest point of the Edge, where a breathtaking view of the surrounding ocean stretched to the horizon. "Every detail planned for every contingency."
"Yeah, well…" Hiccup's hand found the back of his neck again, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice. "Fat lot of good it'll do us in Arendelle. All these defenses, and we won't even get to test them against Drago's army."
"Perhaps not in this battle." His mother's voice held a note he couldn't quite read.
"But there will be a time after war, Hiccup. A future that needs building. And when that time comes, the world will need places like this – places where dragons and humans can learn to live together in peace."
"You really think we have a chance?" He turned to face her, and for a moment he wasn't the inventor, the leader, the bridge between worlds. He was just a son asking his mother for reassurance.
"I think," she said carefully, "that anyone who can build all this?" She gestured at the Edge. "Anyone who can take pain and loss and turn it into something that protects and nurtures? That person can do anything they set their mind to."
She moved to stand beside him at the edge of the platform, their dragons lounging in the late morning sun behind them. "Besides," she added with a hint of mischief in her voice, "I hear you have some rather powerful allies in Arendelle. Ones with… unique abilities of their own?"
"Mom!" But he was laughing now, the weight of the future feeling just a little lighter. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Let what go?" Her innocence would have been more convincing if she wasn't smiling. "I'm merely pointing out the strategic advantages of combining ice magic with dragon fire. Though I suppose the view from Arendelle's gardens is purely coincidental to these strategic considerations?"
"I hate you all," Hiccup declared as both dragons joined in the laughter. "Every single one of you. Traitors, the lot of you."
But as they prepared to head back to the Defenders' island, he found himself taking one last look at Dragon's Edge – at all its innovations and planned defenses. At the signs of life and hope taking root among its platforms and bridges.
His mother was right. There would be a time after war. A future that needed building.
He was building tomorrow. And it started today.
The sunset painted Arendelle's castle gardens in shades of silver and gold, transforming the autumn flowers into living flame. Anna perched on the edge of a decorative fountain, absently tossing treats to her newly acquired Terrible Terror companions while her mind worked through a series of increasingly interesting observations.
Observation One: Her normally cautious sister had barely flinched when the massive dragons first landed in their courtyard.
Observation Two: Said sister seemed surprisingly knowledgeable about dragon behavior, despite supposedly having just met them.
Observation Three: A certain dark-haired rider on a certain midnight-black dragon had been making an awful lot of "diplomatic visits" at suspiciously consistent times.
Observation Four: Elsa's sunset walks in the garden had grown remarkably longer over the past few months.
"Curiouser and curiouser," Anna mused to her scaled audience, channeling her inner detective. One of the Terrors – she'd named him Sir Sparkles for his unusually glittery scales – chirped in what she chose to interpret as agreement.
As if summoned by her thoughts, a familiar figure emerged from the castle's shadows. Elsa moved through the garden with her usual grace, though Anna noted with growing interest that her sister's typical ice-queen composure seemed somewhat… ruffled. There was a slight flush to her cheeks, a certain dreaminess to her expression that Anna had never seen before.
"So!" Anna's voice rang out with cheerful accusation, making Elsa jump. "How was your 'strategic planning session'?"
"Anna!" Frost briefly crystallized around Elsa's fingers – a telling sign of startlement she usually kept under perfect control. "I didn't see you there."
"Clearly." Anna's grin could have rivaled her Terror friends for mischief. "You seemed rather… distracted. Would this distraction happen to involve a certain dragon rider? One who flies a rather distinctive black dragon? Who's been making an awful lot of visits lately?"
The temperature around them dropped several degrees. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
Aww, this was so cute!
Elsa was really bad at hiding things. And keeping secrets. And dealing with boys.
And now all together?
"Oh really?" Anna bounced to her feet, circling her sister with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "So you weren't just spending the last hour discussing 'diplomatic relations' with a particular rider? In the west garden? Where, coincidentally, the guards mentioned seeing a Night Fury landing earlier?"
"The western gardens provide an excellent vantage point for… strategic observations," Elsa managed, though the frost patterns spreading across the nearby flowers rather undermined her attempt at dignity.
"Mhmm." Anna nodded sagely. "And these 'strategic observations' require you to stand quite so close together?"
"It was… windy?"
"Elsa." Anna's voice softened with fond exasperation. "Your hair is mussed, your cheeks are flushed, and there's what looks suspiciously like soot on your dress – which, given that you're practically immune to normal dirt, suggests rather close proximity to a certain dragon."
"There could have been… training exercises?"
"At sunset? In the private gardens? Without any other riders present?" Each question made the frost patterns more elaborate, until the fountain behind them resembled a delicate ice sculpture. "Come on, Elsa. This is me you're talking to. Your sister? Your partner in crime? The one who covered for you that time you accidentally froze the entire library because you got too excited about that new astronomy book?"
"That was one time!" But Elsa's lips were twitching now, the ice beginning to recede. "And I was thirteen."
"The point is," Anna continued, looping her arm through her sister's and steering them toward a secluded bench, "you can tell me anything. Especially things involving tall, dark-haired dragon riders who look at you like you've personally hung the moon and stars."
"He doesn't…" But Elsa's protest died as Anna fixed her with a knowing look. "Is it… is it that obvious?"
"Only to anyone with eyes. And possibly some of the blind courtiers – I'm pretty sure Master Henrik figured it out just from the way your voice changes when Hiccup's mentioned." Anna settled them both on the bench, keeping her arm linked with Elsa's. "So? Details! When did this start? How did it start? Have you kissed yet? Is that what the soot's from? Oh! Can his dragon breathe ice too? Because that would be kind of perfect, right?"
"Anna!" But Elsa was laughing now, real and bright and so unlike her usual controlled amusement that Anna's heart soared. "It's not… we haven't… it's complicated."
"I'm good at complicated! Well, okay, maybe not good at it, but I'm definitely enthusiastic about it! Come on, spill everything. Starting with how long you've been secretly meeting our dashing dragon ambassador in the gardens."
Elsa's blush could have melted the entire ice palace. "It wasn't… we didn't plan it, exactly. You know who he is, yes?"
"Yes, yes," Anna nodded quickly, impatient. "He's old Thor's apprentice though he's also secretly a dragon rider or something, and he's been working all these years at that."
"Exactly," her older sister nodded. "We used to meet up before at the forge-"
"So THAT'S where you were sneaking off all those winter nights!"
"And," he red-faced sister continued, "we figured out we had a lot in common. They way he understood me," she said, her face growing fond, "was unlike anyone else. We just really…"
"Understood each other?"
Elsa smiled.
"Yes. Exactly."
Anna couldn't help the small yell that escaped her chest.
"That's so exciting! My bigger boring sister finally likes someone!"
Elsa was too busy blushing to say anything.
Anna's grin was triumphant. "The guards said you've been out here once a week at sunset for weeks! Though they seemed to think you were practicing ice magic, which I suppose is technically true if you count the frost patterns you make when you're flustered…"
"I do not make frost patterns when I'm – oh." Elsa looked down at the delicate swirls of ice spreading from her fingers across the bench. "Well. Perhaps occasionally."
"Only around him though, right?" Anna's voice turned gentle. "The way he looks at your magic, Elsa… like it's the most wonderful thing he's ever seen. Not powerful or dangerous or useful – just beautiful."
"The way he looks at dragons," Elsa said softly, almost to herself. "Like they're miracles instead of monsters. Like being different isn't something to fear, but something to celebrate."
"And the way he looks at you?" Anna prompted, squeezing her sister's arm. "When he thinks no one's watching?"
The ice patterns bloomed into intricate fractals. "Like… like I'm both at once. Powerful and gentle. Magical and human. Like I don't have to choose between being a queen and being myself."
"Oh, Elsa." Anna wrapped her sister in a fierce hug. "That's not diplomatic relations. That's love."
"It's not – we haven't – there's a war coming, Anna! We can't-"
"Can't what? Fall in love? News flash, sister dear – pretty sure that ship has already sailed. Probably on a Night Fury's back, if we're being specific."
"Anna!"
"What? I'm just saying, for someone claiming to be 'maintaining diplomatic relations,' you sure spend a lot of time staring at the horizon in the direction of Dragons' Edge. And making ice sculptures that look suspiciously like a certain dragon and his rider. And sighing dreamily during council meetings whenever someone mentions dragon training…"
"I do not sigh dreamily!"
"Yeah, you're right – it's more of a wishful sigh. Very regal. Very diplomatic. Totally not obvious to everyone in the castle that our queen is head over heels for a dragon-riding revolutionary."
The bench was now completely encased in ice, but Anna noticed it was shaped like delicate dragon wings. "You're impossible," Elsa declared, but she was smiling – that real, unguarded smile that had been appearing more and more frequently lately.
"Impossibly right, you mean." Anna bumped her shoulder against her sister's. "So? When are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
"That you're madly in love with him! That you want to have adorable ice-breathing dragon babies together! That – okay, that last one might not be physically possible, but you get my point!"
"Anna!" But Elsa was laughing now, real and bright and free. "It's not that simple. We're in the middle of preparing for war, trying to unite two worlds that have been separate for centuries-"
"Sounds like the perfect time for a love story to me," Anna declared. "Think about it – what better way to unite worlds than through love? It's like one of those epic ballads the skalds sing about! The dragon rider and the ice queen, bridging ancient divides with the power of true love!"
"You've been spending too much time with those romantic scrolls in the library."
"Maybe. But I'm not wrong! Come on, Elsa – when was the last time you smiled like this? When was the last time you felt free to just be yourself, magic and all?"
The silence that followed was thoughtful rather than defensive. "He does make it easy," Elsa admitted finally. "Being myself. He understands what it's like, carrying the weight of two worlds. Trying to protect people while being different from them."
"Plus he's cute," Anna added helpfully. "In a scruffy, inventor-y sort of way. And he rides a dragon, which is definitely a point in his favor. And he clearly adores you, which is the most important point of all."
"You think he…" Elsa's voice turned suddenly shy, so unlike her usual queenly confidence that Anna's heart melted.
"Oh, gosh, sis." She took Elsa's hands in hers, frost and all. "I think he looks at you the way the sun looks at the moon – like you're the most radiant thing in his sky, even if he can only admire you from afar. I think he finds excuses to fly across oceans just to see you smile. And I think," she added with a grin, "that the soot on your dress suggests he might have recently gotten close enough to do more than just look."
The entire garden briefly sparkled with frost. "We just… he was showing me how Toothless's new fin mechanisms work, and…"
"And one thing led to another and suddenly you were close enough to get soot on your dress?" Anna's eyebrows waggled suggestively. "Very diplomatic. Very professional. I'm sure it was all purely strategic research."
"I hate you," Elsa declared, but she was smiling wider than Anna had seen in years.
"You love me. Almost as much as you love a certain dragon rider who's probably still circling the castle trying to work up the courage to come back and actually kiss you properly."
The temperature dropped again, but this time the ice crystals in the air looked more like hearts than snowflakes. "You really think he…"
"Wants to kiss you? Is madly in love with you? Would fly across a thousand oceans just to see you smile?" Anna squeezed her sister's hands. "Yes, yes, and absolutely yes. The real question is – what are you going to do about it?"
Elsa looked out over the garden, where the last rays of sunset painted the sky in colors that reminded Anna of dragon fire meeting ice magic. "I… I don't know. Everything's so complicated right now, with the war coming and alliances to maintain…"
"Love isn't complicated," Anna said softly. "Fear makes it complicated. Trust makes it simple." She grinned suddenly. "Though I suppose if you're really uncertain, you could always practice your diplomatic relations a bit more thoroughly. In the gardens. At sunset. Where coincidentally, I happen to know a certain Night Fury was spotted heading just a few minutes ago…"
"Anna!"
But Elsa was already standing, smoothing her dress with slightly shaky hands. "I should probably… check on those strategic matters we were discussing earlier. For diplomatic reasons."
"Of course," Anna agreed solemnly. "Very important diplomatic reasons. Involving sunset gardens and dragon riders and possibly more soot-producing proximity."
"You're impossible," Elsa declared again, but she was smiling as she turned toward the western gardens.
"Love you too!" Anna called after her. "And remember – diplomatic immunity doesn't protect against sisterly teasing when you come back with more than just soot on your dress!"
The burst of snowflakes that showered her in response was totally worth it.
Oh great heavens and running reindeer!
Her sister had finally found a man. Anna was never going to let Elsa hear the end of this. After all, the reason she had taken up Advanced Literature as a class was simply to get more words to embarrass her sister.
She was persistent at these sort of things. When she wanted to be.
Like right now.
Her mind was running like a clockwork train right now.
Elsa's in L-O-O-V-E
Elsa's in L-O-O-V-E
Elsa's in L-O-O-V-E
Of course, that wasn't the only thing the princess of Arendelle made time for.
The midmorning sun painted Arendelle's training grounds in shades of rose and gold, the light catching on dragon scales like scattered jewels across the misty field. Anna stood beside her Dramilion– whom she'd named Sunfire for her brilliant golden-orange scales – watching as the first rays of morning transformed the fjord into liquid amber.
But even the beauty of sunrise couldn't quite chase away the shadows that seemed to gather at the edges of her vision lately, the whispers of war that rode the autumn wind. While most of the castle thought she was the carefree younger sister and that Elsa was the mature (read : boring) one, Anna wasn't a stranger to responsibility.
After all, she'd received almost the same education and training as Elsa growing up.
"Your form is improving," Thora observed, circling them on Bonecleaver with an appraising eye. "Though you're still thinking too much. Dragons respond to intention more than instruction."
"So everyone keeps telling me," Anna sighed, adjusting her grip on the saddle for what felt like the hundredth time. "But it's hard not to think about all the ways this could go wrong when you're several hundred feet in the air on the back of a fire-breathing reptile who could decide at any moment that you'd make a better snack than riding partner."
Sunfire made an indignant sound, headbutting Anna's shoulder with surprising gentleness for such a large creature. The princess laughed despite herself, scratching under the dragon's chin in apology.
"Sorry, girl. You know I didn't mean it. Even if you did try to eat my favorite boots yesterday."
"They respond to trust," Thora said, her usually stern features softening as she watched the interaction. "The same way we must trust each other in the days to come."
The weight in those words made Anna's heart stutter. She'd seen the maps in the war room, the markers showing Drago's forces moving ever closer. Had watched her sister's face grow more drawn with each report, even as Elsa tried to hide her concern behind queenly composure.
"You've seen his army," Anna said quietly, voicing the question that had been haunting her. "How bad is it? Really?"
Thora was silent for a long moment, her expression distant. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of someone who had seen too much darkness. "Drago doesn't just control dragons – he breaks them. Turns their fire to ash, their freedom to chains. What he cannot control, he destroys."
A chill that had nothing to do with the morning air ran down Anna's spine. Beside her, Sunfire pressed closer, as if sensing her rider's distress.
"But there's hope," Thora continued, her voice strengthening. "In alliances like this. In people willing to see dragons as partners rather than weapons." She smiled slightly. "In princesses who name their dragons after sunlight and teach Terrible Terrors to dance."
"Hey, that dance routine is coming along great!" Anna protested, grateful for the lightening of mood. "Sir Sparkles almost has the spin-and-fire move perfected. Though maybe we should practice over the fjord instead of the courtyard – Kai's still a bit touchy about the tapestry incident."
As if summoned by his name, Sir Sparkles swooped down from his perch on a nearby tower, landing on Anna's shoulder with practiced ease. His companion –Lady Glitter– followed close behind, settling on Sunfire's saddle with proprietary grace.
"See? They're getting better at synchronized landing!" Anna beamed, offering both Terrors treats from her ever-present pouch. "Now if we can just work on the timing of the flame patterns…"
"Perhaps we should focus on basic flight maneuvers first," Thora suggested diplomatically, though her eyes sparkled with barely suppressed amusement. "Show me that spiral ascent we practiced yesterday."
The next hour dissolved into a dance of wings and wind, dragon and rider learning each other's rhythms. Anna found that when she stopped overthinking, stopped trying to control every moment, something clicked into place – like the steps of a waltz she somehow already knew.
"There!" Thora called as they executed a perfect banking turn. "That's it! Let the movement flow through you, trust Sunfire to read your intentions…"
They soared higher, the morning mist parting around them like a veil. For a moment, Anna could almost forget about war and darkness, about armies gathering in distant shadows. Up here, with the wind in her hair and sunrise painting the clouds in impossible colors, she felt invincible.
Then she saw it – a dark shape on the horizon, there and gone so quickly she might have imagined it.
"Thora?" Her voice caught as Sunfire tensed beneath her. "What was that?"
The Defender leader was already scanning the horizon, her posture alert. "Probably just a wild dragon," she said, but her tone carried an edge Anna hadn't heard before. "Still, perhaps we should continue training closer to the castle today."
They descended to a lower altitude, keeping within the protective embrace of Arendelle's fjords. But the moment had shifted something in the air, a reminder that these lessons weren't just for fun – they were preparation for something darker approaching with each passing day.
"Tell me about them," Anna said suddenly as they landed for a water break. "The dragons in his army. What are we really facing?"
Thora's expression turned grave.
"Dragons unlike any you've seen. Armored with metal instead of trust, controlled by pain instead of partnership. And at their head…" She paused, something like fear flickering across her features. "A Bewilderbeast – an alpha dragon with the power to control others of its kind. But twisted, corrupted by Drago's cruelty."
"Can they be saved?" Anna asked softly, running her hand along Sunfire's scales.
"The dragons under his control?"
"That's what your sister and Hiccup believe." A slight smile touched Thora's lips. "Though perhaps they're a bit biased in their optimism these days."
"Ha! So you've noticed too?" Anna grinned, momentarily distracted from darker thoughts. "I caught them 'discussing strategy' in the gardens again yesterday. It's so fun to see Elsa squeal whenever I catch them!"
"Indeed." Thora's usual severity cracked into genuine amusement. "Though perhaps such… connections are exactly what we need. Bridges between worlds, built on understanding rather than fear."
They resumed training, but with a different focus now. Thora showed Anna how to read a dragon's body language, how to spot signs of distress or control. They practiced evasive maneuvers, emergency landings, techniques for approaching potentially hostile dragons.
"The key is to remember they're not themselves under control," Thora explained as they worked through another drill. "Look for moments of confusion, breaks in the pattern. Sometimes all it takes is one moment of connection to break through."
"Like Elsa," Anna mused, remembering her sister's own journey from fear to control. "Sometimes love is stronger than any cage."
"Exactly." Thora's approval was warm. "You understand more than you know, Princess. Your heart sees truths others miss."
They worked until the sun hung high overhead, Sunfire's scales blazing like captured flame in the midday light. Anna could feel herself improving, but it was slow. Either way, it was incredibly rewarding. Way cooler than riding a reindeer (no offense to Sven)
Every successful maneuver, every moment of perfect synchronization with her dragon, felt like another weapon in their arsenal against the darkness approaching.
"There will be hard days ahead," Thora said as they finally landed, both dragons and riders pleasantly exhausted. "Days when trust seems foolish and hope feels far away. But remember this feeling – this connection. It's stronger than any chain Drago can forge."
Anna dismounted, letting her hand linger on Sunfire's warm scales. The Dramilion chirped softly, nuzzling her rider. On her shoulders, the Terrible Terror duo performed their newest synchronized routine – a complex series of loops that ended with them perched like epaulettes on her riding leather.
"We'll be ready," she said, and was surprised to find she meant it. "Whatever comes, we'll face it together. All of us – dragons and humans, ice magic and fire, princes and princesses and common folk alike."
"And dancing Terrible Terrors?" Thora's eyes crinkled with amusement as Sir Sparkles attempted a particularly ambitious spin.
"Especially dancing Terrible Terrors! I'd like to see Drago's army stand against my routine of synchronized flame patterns. Set to music. With possibly some ice crystal effects from Elsa, assuming I can convince her to participate. Which I totally can, by the way – she's much more agreeable these days."
Thora's laugh echoed across the training grounds, startling a flock of birds from their perches. "Never change, Princess Anna. Your light may prove more powerful than any weapon in the days to come."
They made their way back to the castle, dragons in tow, as the sun began its westward descent. The shadows were longer now, the wind carrying hints of winter's approach. But Anna found she wasn't afraid – not really. Not when she could feel Sunfire's warmth beside her, see the way dragons and humans were slowly learning to move together in the streets of Arendelle.
Let Drago come with his chains and corruption. He would find more than just armies waiting here. He would find trust stronger than metal, love fiercer than fear, hope brighter than any darkness.
And possibly some really well-choreographed Terrible Terrors with impeccable timing and excellent musical taste.
After all, Anna thought as she watched Sir Sparkles and Lady Glitter perform their newest routine for an appreciative audience of castle staff, sometimes the most powerful magic wasn't in grand displays of force, but in the simple choice to dance instead of hide, to trust instead of fear, to love instead of hate.
Even if that dance occasionally resulted in slightly singed tapestries and very nervous castle stewards. Kai was a dear- he wouldn't mind too much.
The greatest adventures are the ones we dare to take