13. Of men and dragons
Dawn painted the clouds in shades of amber and rose as they left Dragon's Edge behind, its camouflaged peaks disappearing into morning mist like a dream fading at waking. Snotlout led their small formation, Hookfang's powerful wings cutting through air still cool from night. Behind him, Freyd and Kára flanked his position, their dragons moving with increasing confidence as miles of ocean slipped beneath them.
"You know," he called over his shoulder, unable to resist, "most girls don't make me work this hard for a second kiss."
Freyd's answering laugh carried on the wind. "Most girls probably don't come with their own dragons and a death mark from Drago Bludvist."
"Their loss." He grinned back at her, catching the way sunrise gilded her hair like wheat fields in autumn. "I happen to like dangerous women. Just ask Astrid – well, maybe don't ask Astrid. That story ends with me hanging from a tree by my ankles."
"I like him," Kára whispered to Freyd. "He's exactly as ridiculous as you need right now."
Storm rumbled something that sounded suspiciously like agreement, making Freyd pat his scales. "Don't encourage them. Either of them."
But Snotlout caught the smile she couldn't quite hide, saw the way her shoulders had begun to lose their rigid tension. She was digging him. Totally.
Until a distant dragon's cry made them both flinch, hands going to weapons before realizing it was just a wild Terrible Terror passing beneath them.
Freyd's face was a mixture of horror and fear.
With a feeling he didn't really know how to describe, Snotlout realized that Drago's harm went far past the physical. Freyd was still stuck. In her mind.
While she may be free physically, the warrior was still in chains mentally.
"He's not coming," the viking said quietly, guiding Hookfang closer to Storm. "Not yet, anyway. And when he does…" He let his cocky grin spread across his face. "Well, that's why you've got the best dragon rider in history as your personal escort."
"The best?" Freyd arched an eyebrow. "What happened to the Dragon Master and his Night Fury?"
"Okay, second best. But way more handsome."
"Does that actually work on anyone?" But she was smiling again, which Snotlout took as a win.
"You tell me." He waggled his eyebrows. "You're the one who kissed me."
A splash of color touched her cheeks. "Maybe I just wanted to shut you up."
"Did it work?"
"Clearly not."
Kára's Singetail – newly christened Ember – banked closer. "If you two are done flirting, maybe we should talk about what happens when we reach Arendelle? You know, the kingdom Drago's planning to attack?"
The reminder sobered them all. Snotlout's expression hardened as he remembered the last war council he'd attended before being assigned to Dragon's Edge. The maps spread across rough tables, the reports of Drago's growing forces, the desperate plans to somehow hold against a madman's armies.
"Tell me everything you know about his plans," he said, voice steady now. "Every detail could matter."
Freyd and Kára exchanged glances heavy with memory.
"He's gathered more than just dragons," Freyd began slowly. "Ships filled with troops. Siege weapon. Something new the trappers developed – hooks that can ground even the largest dragons."
"The bewilderbeast is the real threat, though." Kára's voice caught slightly. "You've never seen… what it can do to other dragons. How it breaks them."
"Actually, we have." Snotlout's hand tightened on Hookfang's horns. "At Berk."
Understanding dawned in their eyes. "That's why…" Freyd started.
"Why we know what we're fighting? Yeah." He managed a grim smile.
"But we've learned a few things since then. About fighting control, about how to break its hold. And Arendelle's queen? She's got powers of her own. I mean, that's what Hiccup tells me."
"Hiccup?" Kára asked, confused.
"The Night Fury rider," Snotlout explained. Both Freyd and Kára had a look of amazement on their faces.
"You-you know the Night Fury rider?" Freyd asked, awe in her voice.
"Know him?" Snotlout scoffed. "We basically grew up together. He's my cousin, duh."
Kára choked. "Y-your cousin?"
"Yeah, yeah," Snotlout grinned. "Now you know why I'm the one responsible enough to stay behind at Dragon's Edge, right?"
"Probably because no one else volunteered," he heard Kára whisper.
"I heard that!"
They flew in silence for a moment, each lost in thought.
The sun climbed higher, burning away morning mist to reveal endless ocean stretching toward horizon's curve.
"Tell me about Berk," Freyd said suddenly. "What was it like? Before…"
Snotlout's throat tightened, but he forced the words out. "It was home. Not perfect – gods know we had our share of problems. But we figured it out. Built something… beautiful. Drago's destroying our home was the worst thing that happened to us," he winced.
"The only bright spot since is the new bonds I made with Hookfang. The most awesome dragon in the archipelago."
Hookfang decided to do a sudden loop-de-loop in the air, and Snotlout had to hold on to his helment.
Freyd watched, amazed.
"You two- you really share a connection, don't you?"
"Like what you and Storm have now," he replied, watching the way she absently stroked her dragon's scales. "That connection you're trying so hard to pretend isn't growing stronger every minute."
Storm turned his massive head to regard his rider with intelligent eyes. Freyd's hand stilled on his scales.
"I keep waiting," she whispered, "to wake up. To find myself back there, watching him break another dragon's will. Watching him…"
"Hey." Snotlout guided Hookfang closer until their wings nearly touched. "Look at me. This is real. You chose this. Both of you did." He glanced at Kára. "And whatever comes next, you're not facing it alone."
"Promise?" The question slipped out before Freyd could stop it, vulnerable as a dragon hatchling taking first flight.
"Promise." He held her gaze, letting her see the truth in his eyes. "Though I should warn you – the Snotmaster comes with a lot of baggage. Mostly emotional, some literal. Ask Hookfang about the time- you know what. Never mind."
The tension broke as both women laughed. Even the dragons seemed to relax, their wing beats finding an easier rhythm.
They flew on through morning into afternoon, taking turns sharing stories – Snotlout's tales of training dragons mixing with Freyd and Kara's carefully-voiced memories of life before Drago's army. Slowly, piece by piece, trust built between them like a bridge across darkness.
"There was this one time," Snotlout was saying as the sun began its westward slide, "when Hookfang decided my helmet would make a perfect nest for his afternoon nap. While I was still wearing it."
"Better than the time Storm tried to use my sword as a toothpick," Freyd countered, then froze as she realized what she'd said – admitted to remembering, to caring about moments between herself and her dragon.
Storm rumbled softly, pressing his head back against her hand. This time, she didn't pull away.
"See?" Snotlout's smile was gentle now. "Told you they choose us too, sometimes."
The first signs of Arendelle appeared as evening approached – fishing boats in the distance, sea birds wheeling through colder air. Snow-capped mountains rose from the horizon like ancient guardians, their peaks catching sunset's fire.
"It's beautiful," Kara breathed, watching ice-touched fjords take shape beneath them.
"Yeah." But Snotlout was looking at Freyd, at the way fading sunlight painted her profile in shades of gold and shadow. At the strength in her bearing even after a full day's flight, at the way she unconsciously moved with Storm now instead of against him.
She caught his gaze and smiled – a real smile this time, open and warm as summer skies. "What?"
"Nothing." He grinned. "Just thinking about how I'm definitely going to need a second kiss after such an impressive escort mission."
"You're impossible."
"Part of my charm."
"Is that what you call it?"
Their banter carried them toward Arendelle's heart, where a castle of stone and ice rose like a dream taking shape nearby. Below, people pointed and called out at the sight of approaching dragons. Guards moved with practiced efficiency, but didn't raise weapons – they'd been expecting them, then.
As they began their descent, heading towards a small clearing where a small groupf of warriors awaited them. Freyd's hand found Snotlout's, squeezing briefly. "Thank you," she whispered. "For making me laugh when I thought I'd forgotten how."
He squeezed back, memorizing the feeling of her fingers against his. "Anytime. Though fair warning – if we survive all this, I'm probably going to try to make you laugh a lot more."
"I think I'd like that."
Snotlout was, after all, the man with the plan.
Their journey back had taken longer than usual. But then again, Kára and Freyd were beginners. Not experts like him. Which was why Snotlout had been holding back and going slow. Not because he was tired or anything.
Evening light spilled across Arendelle's courtyard like liquid gold, painting dragon scales in shades of amber and bronze as Snotlout guided their small group toward the gathering crowd. He sat a little straighter on Hookfang's back, aware of the impressive figure they must cut – three dragons and their riders, silhouetted against the setting sun like something out of legend.
"You're preening," Freyd observed from Storm's saddle, amusement coloring her voice.
"Obviously." He flashed her his best heroic grin.
"When you look this good delivering escaped warriors to safety, you kind of have to show off a little. It's like, a rule."
Kára's snort from Ember's back was distinctly un-impressed. "Is he always like this?"
"Oh no," Snotlout assured her with complete seriousness. "Usually I'm much more modest. This is me being restrained."
Hookfang landed with his usual dramatic flair, sending a small burst of flame skyward because he knew how good it looked. Storm and Ember settled more cautiously on either side, their riders' old training still evident in their precise movements.
"So," Snotlout called out, unable to resist the moment, "guess who found some new recruits? And before you ask – yes, I was incredibly brave and charming about it."
"I'm sure you were." Hiccup's tone was dry but his expression was warm as he stepped forward, Toothless at his side. "Welcome to Arendelle."
Freyd and Kára dismounted with warrior's grace, though Snotlout noticed the way their hands stayed close to their weapons – habit born of years serving under Drago's command. But there was wonder in their eyes too as they took in the sight of dragons and humans moving freely together through the courtyard.
"I'm Freyd," his definitely-more-than-friend spoke first, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders. Should he call her his admirer?
"This is Kára. We… we chose to leave Drago's army."
"Chose to do a lot more than that," Snotlout interjected, moving to stand beside her. "They've got information about his plans, his forces, everything. Plus, they're amazing riders. You should see what they can do when they're not being forced to follow stupid orders."
Something in Hiccup's expression softened with understanding. "The choice to leave everything you've known, to fight for something better – that takes real courage."
"Even if that something better comes with him?" Kára jerked a thumb at Snotlout.
"Hey! I'll have you know I am a delight."
"You're something, all right," Astrid joined them, Stormfly close behind. Her warrior's assessment of the newcomers was quick but thorough. "Those are good dragons you're riding. Strong. Smart."
"They are." Freyd's hand found Storm's scales, her touch gentler than it would have been just days ago. "We're… learning to appreciate that more each day."
The gray Nightmare rumbled agreement, pressing into her touch with surprising affection. Snotlout caught Hiccup's knowing smile and realized with a start that he'd seen this before. This gradual transformation from seeing dragons as tools to understanding them as partners.
"Well then," Hiccup gestured toward the bustling city beyond the courtyard, "let's get you settled. We've got quarters set up for riders near the forge, and the dragons seem to like the heated stables the ice harvesters use for their reindeer."
"Also," Tuffnut appeared suddenly, draping himself across Snotlout's shoulders, "we need details about how our boy here managed to convince not one but two beautiful warrior women to follow him home."
"Yeah," Ruffnut materialized on his other side, grinning wickedly. "Did they hit their heads really hard or something?"
"Actually," Freyd's voice carried a hint of mischief that made Snotlout's heart do interesting things, "he impressed us with his incredible modesty and restraint."
Dead silence fell for exactly three seconds before the entire group burst into laughter. Even Toothless made that weird chuffing sound that passed for Night Fury amusement.
"I am feeling very attacked right now," Snotlout announced with dignity. "Also, you're all just jealous of my natural charm and charisma."
"Oh, definitely," Hiccup agreed, straight-faced. "We're all in awe of your subtle and understated nature."
More laughter, but this time Freyd's hand found his, squeezing gently. Her smile when he looked at her was private, meant just for him – acknowledgment of the truth beneath his boasting, the genuine heart he tried so hard to hide behind bravado.
The moment was broken by Fishlegs practically bouncing with barely-contained questions. "Your Nightmare's coloring is fascinating," he told Storm, who looked somewhat bemused by the attention. "I've never seen that particular smoke-gray pattern before. And the way your Singetail's wings are shaped, Kara – the aerodynamic implications alone…"
"Maybe let them catch their breath first?" Astrid suggested, but her smile was fond. "They've had a long flight."
"Right, yes, of course." Fishlegs looked sheepish. "Sorry, I just get excited about new dragons. And new riders! And new tactical possibilities! Did you know we've been working on combining traditional Arendelle battle formations with dragon-riding techniques? The applications are fascinating…"
"Fishlegs," Hiccup interrupted gently, "breathing, remember?"
"Sorry!"
The nervous energy of the moment broke into something warmer, more natural. Around them, other riders and warriors began to drift closer, curiosity overcoming caution. Snotlout watched Freyd and Kára gradually relax as they realized no one here wore the rigid masks required in Drago's army, no one moved with that constant fear of failure and punishment.
"It's real, isn't it?" Freyd whispered, quiet enough that only he could hear. "This… freedom. This trust between dragons and riders."
"Told you." He squeezed her hand. "Though I have to admit, it looks even better with you here."
"Smooth talker."
"You like it."
"Maybe." Her smile was soft in the fading light. "Maybe I like a lot of things I never thought I would."
A chorus of excited shouts drew their attention to where the twins had somehow convinced Kára to let them demonstrate their "ultimate dragon wash" technique with Ember. The Singetail looked equal parts confused and amused as Barf and Belch attempted to help with the process, mostly by making everything slightly more explosive.
"Should we stop them?" Freyd asked, watching the chaos unfold.
"Nah." Snotlout grinned. "This is pretty tame for the twins. Besides, look at Kára ."
She was laughing now, real laughter that reached her eyes and erased years of tension from her bearing. Around them, the courtyard had become a mixing ground of cultures and species – Arendelle guards asking questions about dragon training, riders sharing stories of their own first flights, dragons introducing themselves to new companions with curious warbles and gentle headbutts.
Not bad for a days work, Snotlout figured. Another day, another win.
"Come on," Hiccup's voice carried over the happy chaos. "Let's get you both settled in. There's someone I want you to meet – the queen here, she's… well, let's just say she understands something about powers that others fear, and choosing to use them for good instead of destruction."
As they followed their friend through torch-lit streets, Snotlout found himself studying the way Freyd moved through this new world they'd found. There was still caution in her steps, still moments when she tensed at sudden movements or loud sounds. But there was wonder too, and growing confidence, and something that looked a lot like hope.
"Stop staring," she murmured, catching his gaze.
"Can't help it." He waggled his eyebrows. "I am physically incapable of not appreciating beautiful things. It's a curse, really."
"You're ridiculous." But she was smiling again, that real smile that made his chest feel too small to contain whatever was growing there.
"Part of my charm."
"Is that what we're calling it?"
Above them, stars began to emerge like scattered diamonds across Arendelle's sky. Dragons wheeled between towers and spires, their shadows dancing across snow-touched streets where children pointed and laughed instead of running in fear. And somewhere in the distance, war approached like storm clouds on the horizon.
But here, in this moment, watching Freyd and Kára begin to find their place in this world they'd chosen, Snotlout allowed himself to believe in possibility. In futures worth fighting for. In choices that led not just to survival, but to something better.
Something worth being brave for.
Even if it meant occasionally admitting that maybe, just maybe, there were things more important than looking cool while saving the day.
Though he still looked really cool doing it. Obviously.
The night air carried whispers of approaching winter, but Arendelle's streets blazed with warmth and light. Lanterns strung between buildings cast golden pools across cobblestones, their glow catching the occasional shimmer of frost that heralded the changing seasons. Snotlout and Freyd walked close together, their dragons following at a leisurely pace, occasionally bumping heads like playful cats.
Meeting Queen Elsa had been great, but Snotlout had just completed a dangerous and amazing mission. He wanted some time to relax now. With a beautiful babe by his side.
"I still can't believe how different everything is here," Freyd mused, watching a group of children dash past, their arms spread wide in imitation of dragon wings. "In Drago's army, dragons were weapons. Tools. Here, they're…" She gestured to where Hookfang had stopped to let one of the braver children pat his scales.
"Part of the family?" Snotlout suggested, unable to hide his proud smile as his dragon demonstrated uncharacteristic gentleness with his young admirer.
"Yeah, took me a while to get used to that too. Back on Berk, we spent so long fighting them, it was like learning to see in color after a lifetime of gray."
"That's surprisingly poetic coming from you."
"Hey, I contain multitudes." He struck a pose. "I'm like an onion. Layers."
Freyd's laughter echoed off ancient stone walls, drawing smiles from passing villagers. "An onion? Really?"
"Would you prefer a different vegetable metaphor? I've got tons. I could be a particularly handsome cabbage. A dashing radish. A—"
"Please stop," she wheezed, clutching her sides. "I'm trying to maintain my fearsome warrior reputation here."
Their banter was interrupted by excited shouting from the town square ahead. Music drifted on the evening air – fiddles and drums and the stamp of dancing feet. As they rounded the corner, they found the space transformed. Lanterns crisscrossed overhead like a ceiling of stars below the starry sky, tables groaned under the weight of food and drink, and in the center, villagers danced in ever-shifting patterns.
"Ah, excellent timing!" Fishlegs appeared beside them, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "The welcome festival is just getting started. Did you know Arendelle has some fascinating traditional dances that may actually have been influenced by ancient dragon migration patterns? The circular movements and lifting steps suggest—"
"Fishlegs," Kára's voice carried fond exasperation as she joined them, several heavy books clutched to her chest. "You promised to show me the library, remember?"
"Oh! Right! Yes!" He brightened impossibly further. "You're going to love it. They have an entire section on comparative dragon anatomies across different regions, and the architectural designs actually incorporate special reading nooks sized for different dragon species to curl up with their riders, and—"
"Breathe, Fishlegs," Snotlout reminded him, but his friend was already leading Kára away, their excited discussion of wing-span ratios fading into the general festive noise.
"Did you know that Kára was…you know…"
"A huge reader?"
"I was going to say uncool. But yeah, what you said," Snotlout agreed.
Freyd smiled sadly. "I figured as much. She always had a thirst for knowledge. Just that she never had the opportunity back in the armada."
"Geez. Well," Snotlout rolled his eyes. "Fishlegs isn't going to have trouble telling her a bunch of info no one else would want to know."
"Those two are going to be trouble together, aren't they?" Freyd watched them go with a soft smile.
Above them, dragons wheeled through the starlit sky, adding their own celebration to the festivities. Stormfly and several local Nadders performed elaborate aerial displays, their scales catching lantern light like falling jewels. Hookfang and Storm joined in, their synchronized flight drawing appreciative gasps from the crowd below.
Obviously, Hookfang looked the coolest.
"They're showing off," Freyd noted, watching their dragons weave between towers with unnecessary but impressive flourishes.
"Wonder where they get that from," Snotlout mused innocently, earning himself an elbow to the ribs.
The music shifted to something slower, more intimate. Couples moved together in the square's center, their steps following patterns passed down through generations. Snotlout found himself watching Freyd watch them, noting the way lantern light played across her features, softening the hard edges left by years under Drago's command.
"So," he drawled, affecting casual confidence to mask his suddenly racing heart, "want to show these locals how it's done?"
She turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You dance?"
"I am a man of many talents." He extended his hand with a flourish. "Some of which occasionally involve not stepping on people's feet."
"How could I resist such a glowing recommendation?" she replied dryly, but took his hand anyway, allowing him to lead her into the swirling crowd.
They moved together with the same instinctive coordination they'd developed in flight, finding their rhythm among the other dancers. Snotlout was acutely aware of her hand in his, the way her other hand rested light but sure against his shoulder, the subtle scent of leather and wind that seemed to follow all dragon riders.
"You're actually not terrible at this," she murmured as he guided them through a turn.
"Try to contain your shock." But his grin gave away his delight. "I'll have you know I was considered quite the catch back on Berk."
"Oh really?"
"Absolutely. The ladies were practically fighting over me. There was this one time with a flock of Terrible Terrors and a wheel of cheese—"
"Now this I have to hear." Hiccup's voice interrupted as he and Astrid spun past them, matching grins on their faces.
"No one has to hear it," Astrid countered. "Some stories should stay buried. Preferably under several tons of rock."
"You're just jealous because I looked amazing covered in cheese."
Their laughter merged with the music, rising toward where dragons still painted the sky with their joyous aerial dance. A small group of children had convinced the twins to help them stage a dramatic reenactment of some local legend, with Barf and Belch playing all the monster parts with theatrical enthusiasm.
"Look," Freyd said softly, nodding toward where an elderly woman was actually dozing against Storm's side, the dragon curled protectively around her chair. "A week ago, I wouldn't have believed this was possible."
"A week ago, you wouldn't have believed a lot of things." Snotlout's voice carried unexpected gentleness. "Including that you'd be dancing with someone this devastatingly handsome."
"And humble. Don't forget humble."
"It's my best quality, really."
They swayed together as the music slowed further, other couples gradually leaving the square to watch the dragons' continued aerial display. Hookfang and Storm had moved their performance to include carefully controlled bursts of flame, painting the night sky in patterns of gold and crimson.
"They really are showing off now," Snotlout observed.
"Like rider, like dragon?" Freyd's teasing carried warmth instead of bite.
"I prefer to think they learned it from me. I am an excellent role model."
A chorus of "oohs" drew their attention upward, where Toothless had joined the aerial display. The Night Fury's plasma blasts created brilliant purple-blue explosions that transformed into shimmering auroras, drawing applause from the gathered crowd.
"Show-off," Snotlout muttered.
"Says the man who spent ten minutes earlier explaining to those guard trainees exactly how he single-handedly saved three villages, two sheep, and a particularly ungrateful yak?"
"That happened exactly as I described it and I will accept no criticism."
Their playful argument was interrupted by a commotion near the food tables. Terrible Terrors and food. Again. The resulting chaos involved significantly more frosting than the bakers had likely intended.
"Should we help?" Freyd asked, watching the twins encourage rather than prevent the impending disaster.
"Nah." Snotlout waved dismissively. "This is practically a tradition now. Besides, look how much fun they're having."
Indeed, what had started as potential catastrophe had somehow evolved into an impromptu food fight, with dragons and humans alike participating with gleeful abandon. Even some of the stuffier nobles had been drawn in, their dignity forgotten in favor of childlike joy.
"Your definition of 'fun' continues to concern me," Freyd noted, but her eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter.
"That's because you haven't fully experienced the Snotlout approach to life yet." He struck another pose. "Step one: look amazing. Step two: do amazing things while looking amazing. Step three: make sure everyone knows how amazing you are while doing amazing things and looking amazing."
"That's a lot of amazing."
"I contain multitudes, remember?"
Snotlout enjoyed the miracles of life. Some complex, like his amazing hair and how Hiccup had managed to train a Night Fury, of all dragons.
Some simpler- like two former enemies dancing beneath dragons' wings, their hearts beating in time with ancient rhythms of hope and change and love.
Even if one of them occasionally got distracted explaining exactly how amazing he was.
Though really, who could blame him? After all, he did look particularly dashing in lantern light.
Hiccup watched the whirl of colors and light around him as he guided Astrid through another turn, their steps falling into an easy rhythm born of warrior's grace rather than practiced dance. The festival's energy pulsed through Arendelle's streets like a living thing, dragons and humans alike caught up in its joyous current.
"You're thinking too hard again," Astrid observed, breaking through his reverie with characteristic directness. He had to bite back a smile. Just like back on Berk, when they were kids.
"I can practically hear the gears turning in that head of yours."
"Me? Think too hard? Never." He tried a mask of innocence that earned him one of her signature eye-rolls.
"I am completely and utterly in the moment. The very picture of carefree festivity."
"Right." She didn't even try to hide her skepticism.
"That's why you've been staring at the same spot for the last five minutes with your 'solving complex problems' face."
"I have different faces?"
"Oh gods, so many." Her smile held genuine warmth beneath the teasing. "There's the 'I just invented something that might explode' face, the 'pretending everything's fine while actually panicking' face, and my personal favorite – the 'trying to convince everyone I'm not head over heels for a certain queen' face."
Hiccup nearly missed a step, though years of prosthetic adaptation helped him recover smoothly. "I don't – that's not – I mean…"
"And there it is." Astrid's laugh carried no mockery, only understanding. "You know, it's okay to be happy, Hiccup. Even with everything that's happened, even with what's coming – you're allowed to have this."
The music shifted, something slower and more contemplative. Around them, other couples adjusted their steps, drawing closer together as the tempo eased. Above, dragons continued their aerial ballet, their shadows dancing across cobblestones like memories given form.
"I used to dream about this, you know," Hiccup said after a moment, his voice pitched low enough that only Astrid could hear. "Back on Berk, when I was just the disappointing heir who couldn't kill a dragon. Dancing with the fierce Astrid Hofferson at a festival, having her actually talk to me instead of just… walking past like I was invisible."
"Hiccup-"
"No, no, it's…I'm not trying to make you feel bad. It's just-" He guided them through another turn, gathering his thoughts. "Life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need, even if it's not what you thought you wanted. Back then, I thought I was in love with the idea of you – the strongest, most capable viking our age, someone who could make my father proud if only she'd notice me."
"And now?" Astrid's question held genuine curiosity rather than judgment. Something he was grateful for more than he could express.
"Now I realize that what I really wanted was to be seen. To be understood." His eyes drifted to where Elsa stood near the refreshment tables, engaged in conversation with several guild masters. Even from this distance, her presence commanded attention – not through force or fear, but through the quiet strength of someone who had learned to embrace both power and vulnerability.
"And sometimes the person who sees you isn't who you expected at all."
"She's good for you," Astrid said softly. "I see the way you light up when she enters a room, how you don't feel the need to fill every silence with jokes or sarcasm. You're… steadier with her. More yourself."
"As opposed to my usual chaotic self?"
"There's the deflection I was waiting for." But Astrid's smile was knowing. "You can't help yourself, can you?"
"It's part of my charm."
"It's part of your armor," she corrected, punching him gently.
"Has been since we were kids. But I've noticed you use it less around her. Like you don't feel the need to hide behind it quite so much."
The music swelled, and for a moment they simply moved together, two friends who had found their way to understanding through paths neither could have predicted. Above them, Toothless and Stormfly performed an intricate aerial maneuver that sent sparkles of plasma and spine-shots cascading through the night sky like falling stars.
"You know what's really funny?" Hiccup finally broke the comfortable silence. "If you'd asked me a year ago what I wanted most in the world, I would have said 'to make my father proud' or 'to prove myself to Berk.' Now…" He shook his head, wonder and grief mixing in his voice. "Now I know what I really wanted was the freedom to be myself. To build something new instead of trying to fit into someone else's idea of who I should be."
"And you found that here?" Astrid's question was gentle, understanding.
"Here. With the dragons. With…"
His eyes found Elsa again, drawn to her like a compass finding true north. She must have felt his gaze because she looked up, her smile transforming her entire face with a warmth that made his heart stutter in his chest.
"With someone who understands what it's like to have power others fear. To want to protect people even when they don't understand you. To choose love over fear, again and again, even when it would be easier to hide."
"You're waxing poetic again."
"I can't help it. Have you seen her? She's literally transformed this entire kingdom twice over – once with her powers, and now by opening her doors to dragons and riders. She could have chosen isolation, chosen safety, but instead…" He gestured to where several of Arendelle's guards were teaching young riders proper landing signals, their movements precise and patient. "Instead, she chose to trust. To build something new."
"Something worth fighting for," Astrid agreed, her voice thick with emotion.
"We could have used some of that trust back on Berk."
"Yeah." The word carried years of complicated history.
"Though maybe we needed to lose everything to learn how to build something better."
"There's my philosophical dragon boy." Astrid's teasing held no sting. "You know, I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had."
"Probably because you're usually trying to hit me with an axe."
"Give it time."
Their laughter rose toward the star-strewn sky, joining the general merriment of the festival. The music shifted again, something livelier that had couples spinning faster, dragons adding their own harmonics to the traditional melodies.
"Go on," Astrid said suddenly, stepping back with a knowing smile. "I know you're dying to dance with her."
"That obvious, huh?"
"Hiccup, I've seen less obvious lightning strikes." She gave him a gentle push toward where Elsa stood. "Besides, I promised Eret I'd help him demonstrate some advanced aerial maneuvers to the new riders."
"Eret, eh?" Now it was his turn to wear the knowing smile. "Should I be reading anything into that?"
"Go dance with your queen before I remember where I left my axe."
He sketched an exaggerated bow. "As my lady commands."
But before he could take more than a step, Astrid caught his arm. "Hiccup? I'm glad you found her. Found this," she gestured vaguely to everything around them.
"You deserve to be happy."
"So do you."
He met her eyes, and saw the understanding pass between them – of paths not taken, of futures rebuilt from ashes, of friendship forged stronger than any childhood crush could have been.
Then she was gone, already calling to Stormfly as she moved toward where Eret waited with their practice group. Hiccup watched her go, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and wonder at how life had brought them all to this moment.
Drawing a deep breath, he turned toward where Elsa stood, her ice-blue dress catching lantern light like captured stars. Their eyes met across the crowded square, and her smile was like sunrise breaking over snow-touched mountains – brilliant and warm and full of promise.
"My queen," he said softly, extending his hand. "May I have this dance?"
And as she stepped into his arms, as dragons painted the sky with fire and frost merged with flame in impossible beauty above them, Hiccup sent a silent thank you to whatever gods had led him here – not to the future he'd imagined as a boy, but to something far better.
Elsa moved into his arms with grace that made his heart stutter, her hand finding his with the familiarity of puzzle pieces clicking into place. Ice magic shimmered in her wake like stardust, tiny crystalline fractals that caught the lantern light and transformed it into something otherworldly. Above them, Toothless let out a pleased warble before launching into another aerial display, his plasma blasts creating purple-blue auroras that seemed to dance with Elsa's snowflakes in mid-air.
"Your dragon," she observed with a smile that made his knees weak, "is showing off again."
"Can you blame him?" Hiccup guided them into the dance's flow, their movements as natural as flight. "He's got a reputation to maintain as the most dramatic dragon in Arendelle."
"Only the most dramatic?"
Frost patterns swirled beneath their feet as they turned, creating intricate designs that sparkled like captured moonlight. "I seem to recall someone telling quite the tale about single-handedly redirecting an entire flock of Terrible Terrors with nothing but a shield and, what was it? 'Raw Viking ingenuity'?"
"That absolutely happened exactly as I described it." He affected his most serious expression, though his eyes danced with mischief. "I am wounded by your skepticism, my queen. Wounded."
"Of course you are." Her laugh was like bells chiming in winter air, clear and bright and perfect. "How ever will you recover?"
"I can think of a few ways…"
He drew her closer as the music slowed, their bodies fitting together like they'd been designed for exactly this moment. Around them, the festival whirled in a kaleidoscope of color and sound – dragons and humans celebrating their unlikely unity, fear giving way to trust, old wounds healing under the balm of new possibilities.
"You're thinking deep thoughts again," Elsa murmured, her free hand tracing patterns on his shoulder that sent shivers down his spine. "I can see them gathering behind your eyes like storm clouds."
"That's very poetic of you."
"Don't deflect." She knew him too well now, could see past his armor of sarcasm to the vulnerable heart beneath. "Tell me?"
Hiccup was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts as they moved together through the dance.
"I was just thinking about paths," he finally said, voice soft but sure. "About how sometimes you have to lose everything you thought you wanted to find what you actually need." His eyes met hers, blue depths filled with wonder and certainty.
"About how getting attacked by an injured Night Fury might be the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Only you," Elsa's fond exasperation carried years of understanding, "would consider being attacked by a dragon as a positive life event."
"Well, it did lead me here." He spun her out and back, her ice magic trailing like comet tails in her wake. "To dragons, to freedom, to…" His voice softened. "To you."
The last words hung between them like frost crystals in morning light, delicate and perfect and full of promise. Elsa's eyes, blue as glacier ice but warm as summer skies, held his with an intensity that made the rest of the world fade to beautiful background noise.
"You know," she said after a moment, her voice carrying that particular blend of strength and vulnerability that never failed to take his breath away, "when Anna first suggested opening our borders to dragon riders, I thought she'd finally lost what was left of her sense."
"To be fair, that's a pretty reasonable reaction to dragons."
"Mm." Her smile held secrets and starlight. "But then this impossibly dramatic Viking showed up with his impossibly dramatic dragon, talking about second chances and building bridges instead of walls…" She shook her head, wonder threading through her words. "And suddenly everything I thought I knew about power and control and fear just… shifted."
"Impossibly dramatic?" Hiccup pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know I am exactly the right amount of dramatic for someone who rides the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself."
"There it is." Her laugh wrapped around his heart like warm honey. "That thing you do when emotions get too real – hide behind humor and references to your dragon's impressive titles."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
But his smile was soft, acknowledging the truth she saw so clearly. "Besides, you're one to talk about impressive titles, Your Majesty."
"Deflecting again."
"Always."
They moved together in comfortable silence for a moment, letting the music and the festival's joy carry them. Dragons wheeled overhead like living constellations, their flames painting the night in colors that shouldn't exist but somehow did, here in this space between what was and what could be.
"Did I ever tell you," Hiccup said suddenly, his voice pitched low and intimate, "that I used to dream about impressing Astrid with some grand heroic gesture? Back when I was just the hiccup of Berk, trying so hard to be something I wasn't?"
"Oh?" Elsa's question held no jealousy. She was over that, now.
"Yeah. I thought if I could just do something big enough, brave enough, she'd finally see me." He shook his head at his younger self's simplicity.
"But now I realize – that's not what love is supposed to be. It's not about grand gestures or proving yourself worthy. It's about finding someone who sees you exactly as you are and says 'yes, this one.'"
"Someone who understands what it's like to have power others fear?" Elsa's words echoed their earlier conversations, those long nights spent sharing stories of isolation and discovery, of learning to trust themselves and others.
"Someone who knows that the strongest bridges are built by choice, not force." His hand tightened on hers, an anchor in the storm of emotion. "Someone who looks at a Night Fury and sees beauty instead of threat, who uses her power to create instead of conceal, who…"
"Who's making you wax poetic again?" Her teasing couldn't quite hide the way her breath caught, the way her magic sparked between them like joy made visible.
"Entirely your fault." He drew her impossibly closer, their movements slowing to almost a standstill as the rest of the world faded around them. "You and your impossible beauty and your impossible courage and your completely unfair ability to see right through every defense I've ever built."
"Hiccup…"
"I mean it." All humor fled his voice, leaving only truth bare and burning between them. "You don't just see me, Elsa. You see all of me – the sarcasm and the fear and the hope and everything in between. And you don't try to fix it or change it. You just… accept it. Accept me."
Her hand found his cheek, cool fingers tracing the line of his jaw like she was memorizing him by touch. "The same way you accept me? Powers and responsibilities and occasional snow flurries when I get emotional?"
"Especially the snow flurries." He turned his head to press a kiss to her palm, feeling the way her magic hummed beneath her skin like barely contained starlight. "They're very dramatic. I approve completely."
Their laughter mingled with the festival's music, rising toward where dragons still painted impossible auroras across Arendelle's star-strewn sky. And if anyone noticed the way snowflakes began to fall despite the clear night, or how those snowflakes caught dragons' fire and transformed into something new and beautiful and impossible – well, they were getting used to impossible things in Arendelle these days.
Sometimes the best futures were built on exactly that – the impossible made possible through trust and choice and love.
Even if they occasionally involved unnecessarily dramatic Vikings and their equally dramatic dragons.
Time seemed to slow in the gentle space between one dance and the next, the festival's lights multiplying like earthbound stars as darkness deepened over Arendelle. Dragons had taken to lighting the hanging lanterns with precise bursts of flame, creating waves of illumination that transformed the kingdom into something from a fairy tale. The scent of frost and fire mingled in the air.
"You know," Hiccup murmured against Elsa's temple as they swayed together, "I'm starting to think Toothless is trying to upstage us. He's got quite a crowd watching him."
"Like rider, like dragon?" Elsa's teasing carried all the warmth of summer despite the cool touch of her hand in his.
"I have no idea what you're implying, my queen."
Their shared laughter was cut short by a sound that turned Hiccup's blood to ice – the desperate, exhausted cry of dragons pushed beyond their limits.
He turned sharply, warrior's instincts overtaking festive joy as three riders burst into view above the kingdom's spires. Their dragons' wings beat with the ragged rhythm of those who'd flown far too far, too fast.
"No," he breathed, feeling Elsa tense beside him. "Not yet. Not–"
But the universe had never cared too much for what Hiccup Haddock wanted.
The scouts' landing scattered revelers like autumn leaves in a gale, their dragons collapsing onto the cobblestones with heaving flanks and trembling wings. Heather was first to dismount, her usual grace abandoned in urgency as she stumbled forward.
"He's coming," she gasped, words carrying across the suddenly silent square like stones dropped in still water. "Drago – we saw – the Southern Isles burns behind him. His army…" She swayed, caught by Astrid's steady hands. "Gods, there are so many. Dragons in armor, ships bristling with weapons we've never seen, and at their heart…"
"The bewilderbeast," Hiccup finished grimly. Around them, the festival's joy crumbled like a sand castle before the tide.
"How long?" Elsa's voice was like steel.
"A day. Maybe less." Heather's eyes held shadows no one so young should know. "He's moving faster than we anticipated. The dragons he's enslaved… he's driving them beyond exhaustion. Beyond sanity."
The words fell like hammer blows in the gathering dark. For one heartbeat, silence reigned – then chaos erupted like a dam breaking.
"Get those dragons to the healers!" Hiccup's voice cut through the growing panic. "Fishlegs, you're with me – we need to coordinate the evacuation. Astrid, get the defensive squadrons in the air. Twins, find Mala – tell her to begin the mountain fortifications. Now!"
"The tunneling dragons," Elsa picked up his thread seamlessly, ice magic crackling around her hands as she took charge of her people's safety, "have already prepared the deep shelters. Anna!" she yelled, spotting her sister, "coordinate with the city guard – I want every civilian who can't fight movedto the tunnels before dawn. Kai, send word to the merchants – all food stores are to be consolidated and moved to the emergency caches."
The square transformed from celebration to command center in heartbeats. Dragons and riders launched into darkened skies, their shadows cutting across the stars like war banners unfurled. The sound of hammers rang from the forges as weapon stocks were counted and distributed.
"The fjord," Hiccup turned to Elsa, mind racing through calculations of defense and necessity. "If we can bottleneck their ships…"
"Already planned," she nodded, frost spreading beneath her feet. "The ice will force them into killing zones where our dragons can strike without exposing themselves to those weapons Heather mentioned."
They moved together through the organized chaos, years of leadership experience guiding their steps. Around them, Arendelle shifted from peace to war footing with terrible efficiency – women gathering children, men checking weapons, dragons ferrying supplies to high defensive positions around the kingdom's walls.
A Whispering Death emerged from the earth like a nightmare given form, but its fearsome appearance was belied by the gentle way it guided a group of elderly villagers toward the shelter entrances. Nearby, a Catastrophic Quaken was flying back- if Hiccup had to guess- from a long day's work.
"Hiccup." Astrid's voice carried over the din as she approached, Stormfly's wings casting shifting shadows in the lantern light. "First defensive squadron is airborne. Snotlout's coordinating with the mountain units, and Fishlegs has the evacuation routes mapped."
"Good." He forced himself to breathe past the thunder of his heart. "What about–"
"Auxiliary riders are already moving supplies to the high caches," she anticipated his question. "And Thor's got the forge running at full capacity. We're as ready as we can be, all things considered."
Which wasn't nearly ready enough, but they all knew that truth too well to speak it aloud.
"The festival," Elsa said suddenly, looking at the abandoned tables, the scattered decorations, the lanterns still burning like stars fallen to earth. "It seems so distant now. Like a dream we were allowed to have for just a moment."
Hiccup drew her close, feeling the way she trembled with contained power and fear and determination. Above them, dragons continued to wheel through the night sky, but their movements were sharp now, militant, their fire reserved for warming forge bellows and lighting signal beacons along the kingdom's walls.
"One day," he promised softly, fierce certainty burning in his chest. "One day we'll have another festival. A better one. When all of this is just a story we tell around fires on winter nights."
"Of course we will." Elsa's smile carried all the sharp edges of a warrior facing impossible odds. "Assuming you don't get too dramatic and do something stupidly heroic before then."
"Me? Never."
But they all heard the lie in his voice, saw the wheels turning behind his eyes as he watched dragons and humans moving together in desperate preparation. Somewhere beyond the horizon, an army approached like a storm front, bearing down on everything they'd built with the inexorable force of an avalanche.
"Promise me," Elsa's voice barely carried above the sound of beating wings and shouted orders. "Promise me you won't–"
"You know I can't." He turned to her, seeing in her eyes the same fierce protective love that burned in his own heart. "Not if there's a chance to end this. To stop him before he can destroy everything we've built here."
The night grew deeper around them, stars wheeling overhead like silent witnesses to their preparations for war. In the distance, mountain peaks caught the light of signal fires, each flame a warning passed from peak to peak – danger comes, danger comes, danger comes.
Tomorrow would bring blood and fire and choices that could never be unmade. Tomorrow would test every bond they'd forged, every trust they'd built, every love they'd dared to believe in.
But tonight – tonight they had this moment, this breath between peace and war, this last chance to hold what was precious before fate's dice were cast.
"Together then," Elsa said finally, her voice carrying with it all the emotion Hiccup could tell she was trying to hide. "Whatever comes, whatever it takes – we face it together."
"Together," Hiccup agreed.
Above them, dragons painted war signals across the star-strewn sky, their fires burning like promises in the night. Below, in tunnels carved through earth and stone, a kingdom prepared for siege. And in between, in that space where hope met necessity, where love met duty, where dreams met dawn's harsh light – they made ready for war.
For tomorrow, Drago would come.
And gods help them all, they would be ready.
Or they would die trying.
Erik clutched his wooden dragon toy tighter as he wandered through streets he barely recognized anymore. Everything had changed so fast! Where festival lights had sparkled just hours ago, now war machines loomed like hungry giants. The forge's glow painted shadows that danced and twisted across cobblestones, making familiar corners strange and frightening.
He wasn't scared though. He was twelve, practically grown up. And grown-ups didn't get scared.
But still…
Where was everyone? His family had been right here. By the baker's shop that now served as some kind of map post, maps spread across tables where sweet rolls usually sat. Mother had been holding Sara's hand, and Father had been talking to the guards about evacuation routes, and then–
A Monstrous Nightmare roared overhead, its wings blocking out the stars for one heart-stopping moment. Erik pressed himself against a wall, trying to be small, trying to be brave. The dragon carried huge nets full of supplies, its rider shouting orders to others who flew in formation behind it.
They looked like warriors from the old stories. Like heroes.
"I could help," he whispered to his toy dragon, a rough-carved Night Fury his father had made him after the real one had first been seen.
"I'm big enough. I could fight!"
But no one seemed to notice him. Everyone rushed about with urgent purpose – guards checking weapons, riders preparing dragons, villagers hurrying toward the mountain paths with whatever they could carry. The air thrummed with tension thick enough to touch.
"Watch the left flank!" Someone shouted from above. "Those supply lines need to be secure before dawn!"
"Get those catapults to the western wall! Move it!"
"Medical supplies to the secondary cache! Now!"
The words swirled around Erik like leaves in a storm. He recognized some of them from his father's military books, but everything was happening so fast. Too fast.
A group of children younger than him hurried past, guided by one of the village elders toward the mountain paths. Should he follow? But what if his family was somewhere else? What if–
"Hey there." The voice came from above, gentle despite the chaos around them. "You look a little lost."
Erik looked up – and up, and up – into the face of Hiccup Haddock himself, the Dragon Master who had brought magic back to their kingdom. The man who people said had kissed their queen and made her smile like summer had come early. Behind him, the Night Fury – the real one – crooned softly.
"I…" Erik's voice caught. Heroes weren't supposed to notice small boys clutching wooden toys. "I can't find my family."
"Ah." Hiccup's smile held understanding deeper than the fjord. "Well, we can't have that, can we? What do you say we get a better view?"
Before Erik could process the words, strong hands lifted him up onto the Night Fury's back. He barely had time to gasp before they were in the air, the ground falling away like a dream.
"Hold on tight!" Hiccup called over the wind's song. "Toothless, let's find our friend's family!"
They soared higher than Erik had ever imagined possible. His toy dragon nearly slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers as he stared down at his kingdom transformed by height and nightfall. Arendelle spread below them like a map drawn in starlight and torch flame, its streets alive with purpose.
He saw everything!
Dragons and riders moved in complex patterns across the sky, carrying supplies, reinforcing walls, setting up defensive positions along the fjord's narrow entrance. Ice crystals sparkled where Queen Elsa worked with her powers, creating huge spikes that caught torchlight like stars.
And there – moving along the mountain path toward the great caves…
"That's them!" Erik pointed excitedly. "By the old farm road!"
"Good eye!" Hiccup guided Toothless into a gentle dive that still made Erik's stomach swoop like he'd swallowed butterflies. "Let's get you back where you belong."
They landed amid exclamations of relief and wonder. Erik's mother swept him into an embrace that smelled of home and safety, while his father thanked Hiccup with the deep respect of a soldier for a commander.
"The caves are just ahead," Hiccup told them, his voice carrying to others who had paused to listen. "The dragons have been working day and night to make them ready. You'll be safe there until this is over."
He wasn't wrong.
When they reached the cave entrance, Erik couldn't believe his eyes. What should have been dark and frightening was instead warm and welcoming. Multiple chambers stretched back into the mountain's heart, their walls smooth as polished glass, their ceilings high enough for dragons to land comfortably.
Some dragons had melted stone to create sleeping platforms at different levels, while others had transformed rough rock into surprisingly comfortable benches and tables. Terrible Terrors darted about with torches, lighting brackets that gleamed with mysterious metals. The air moved fresh and clean thanks to shafts, and somewhere deep below, he could hear the sound of underground springs.
"It's like a palace inside a mountain!" Sara whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Everything's faster with dragons," Hiccup said, as the families began to settle into spaces that somehow managed to feel both secure and homey. "They understand the importance of protecting those we love."
Erik clutched his toy dragon, watching the real ones help distribute supplies and set up living areas. Despite the excitement of flight still buzzing in his veins, he couldn't ignore the tension that hung in the air like storm clouds gathering.
Tomorrow would bring war. He might be young, but he understood that much.
"Sir?" He tugged at Hiccup's sleeve before the rider could leave. "I want… I want to be like you when I grow up. Brave enough to change things. To make things better."
Something flickered in Hiccup's eyes – pride maybe, or pain, or both. He knelt to meet Erik's gaze directly.
"Being brave isn't about fighting," he said softly. "It's about protecting what matters. Sometimes that means charging into battle, but sometimes…" He gestured to where Erik's family waited. "Sometimes it means being strong for those who need us. Being brave enough to wait, to trust, to hope."
Erik nodded solemnly.
"Will you come back? After?"
"Count on it. Save me some of those sweet rolls from the baker's shop. I hear they're amazing."
Then he was gone, vanishing into the night on wings black as shadow. Erik watched until he couldn't distinguish dragon from darkness.
The greatest adventures are the ones we dare to take
A/N:
1. If you have any questions about the story including harmonization of its parts- let me know in the reviews!