Chapter 1: This is Berk
This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. In the time that seven generations of Vikings have called the isle home, much has changed; what was once a haphazard collection of constantly replaced huts is now a sprawling village filled with shops and longhouses, a thriving community of hardworking people, and a refuge of peace in often hazardous seas. The Vikings of Berk were never ones to flee the storm, be it the onslaughts of nature or years upon years of dragon raids. The aftermath of Drago Bludvist's attack was no exception; while the damage caused by the Bewilderbeast was extensive, both Vikings and dragons worked to rebuild their island home anew. Almost five months have passed since the island's new chief—and the new Alpha dragon, who commanded the nest—took charge, and Berk is almost completely back to normal. The buildings are repaired, the piles of ice cleared, the ships freshly replaced. The only exception is the intricate stone statue that now towers over the entrance to the Great Hall, commemorating Stoick the Vast, whose leadership and sacrifice would be honored for years to come.
As evening approached on another day of construction, the village began to quiet and darken as its inhabitants headed home. Laborers headed to the Great Hall to feast while their dragons took to the skies to fish or roam the air, while others headed home to spend time with their families. The faint flapping of wings could still be heard as other dragons took to patrolling the sentry statues that surrounded the island ; some did so at their Alpha's command to watch for danger, while others simply found enjoyment in stretching their wings or wanted a place to perch outside the crowded and noisy roofs of the village. The additional dragons from the Bewilderbeast nest had integrated themselves well with the island's inhabitants, although some had elected to roam wild rather than join a nest so intertwined with a human village. The remainder had either bonded with riders or found homes in the vast forests and rocky outcroppings on Berk's unpopulated side. Despite all the trials and tribulations of late, life here was shaping up to be just as amazing as it had been in recent years. Its people were happy and united—Viking and dragon—as another day came to a close, with many turning in for a night of rest.
Except for one Viking.
While the rest of the village settled in, the forge was still open; flickering lights could be seen through the open windows. The clanging of steel and hiss of steam could be faintly heard from outside as Hiccup Haddock, the young chief of Berk, finally found time to indulge in his craft while his people turned in for the night. With all the construction and village business to attend to—not even mentioning time spent ruling on petty disputes and squabbles that demanded his ruling—Hiccup found it increasingly difficult to find time for himself. Although he was perfectly happy to hear every villager's requests and was extremely proud of the speed and scope of Berk's repairs, the evening served as the only time lately where Hiccup could return to his craft.
Having finished pounding the metal into the desired shape, Hiccup gently quenched the blade-shaped piece in the water. Stifling a cough as his face was enveloped with steam, Hiccup thought about the day he landed with Toothless at this very forge to sound the alarm of dragon hunters to his father. At the time, his warnings of Drago had interrupted Stoick's chiefing lesson, but Hiccup found himself thinking back to his father's words as he worked. No task is too small when it comes to serving your people, Stoick had said as he hustled around the forge, taking requests from villagers lined up at the window. Hiccup smiled at the thought; despite their arguments to the contrary, he did listen to his father after all. Being chief was tiring and time-consuming, to be sure, but it filled Hiccup with both joy and pride to serve his village as his father had done.
Thankfully, no one would likely call on him at this hour, which gave Hiccup plenty of time to finish his latest pet project. While he waited for the sword blade to cool on the anvil, Hiccup strode to the workbench and pulled a wooden box from a top shelf and gently poured out the contents: several turquoise and emerald jewels, a plain wooden handle, some binding cord, and whittling tools. As he began to carve runes and placeholders for the gemstones, Hiccup began daydreaming about the intended purpose of the weapon. His wedding to Astrid had been postponed by recent events—again—but in a matter of weeks, that would change, and this sword would hopefully serve as the heirloom of their new life together. It also served as closure for the passing of Stoick; it was tradition to present a sword retrieved from one's ancestors at the ceremony, and Hiccup could think of no one more fitting.
Getting the sword had been tricky at first; while the late chief had been buried at sea, Hiccup had recalled his father wielding a sword at some point during the first battle with the Red Death dragon. The month prior, Hiccup and Toothless had finally managed to catch a break, flying off to retrieve it while leaving Astrid and Stormfly in charge. The day trip was much needed as the two old friends had not flown together in weeks, and despite the somber objective, a feeling of old times was upon them. They found the weapon in a snowdrift not far from where Stoick fell, and Hiccup liked to imagine that Toothless had found some closure as well; dragons couldn't talk, but Hiccup knew well enough that his best friend still felt incredible guilt, despite all being forgiven. Finishing the pommel, Hiccup sighed and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms back with a yawn. I wonder what he's doing now, he thought. Toothless frequently came home at night and visited him sometimes during the day, but the life of an Alpha dragon was likely fraught with stress; Hiccup was all too happy to provide him with his self-steering prosthetic, and the Night Fury had taken to flying by himself often.
Looking back at his handiwork, Hiccup gathered the blade and pommel materials and found a longer box to put them in. The sword could wait until another time. Tucking the box behind the shelf where he knew Gobber wouldn't notice, Hiccup closed up shop and doused the flames. It was high time he rejoined Astrid at home and called it a night, and, feeling a low growl from his stomach, the young Viking reminded himself that it had been many hours since he had eaten. Stepping out into the street, Hiccup breathed in the cool air as he set off for home; winter was almost here. Thankfully, the crops and other food stores had not been the object of the Bewilderbeast's onslaught, and Berk's chief found himself counting his blessings as he strolled through his rebuilt village.
While Hiccup sought out the comforts of family and fellowship, his dragon counterpart was doing the exact opposite. On the other side of the island, a shadowy mass glided through the forest, not even making a whisper as the coal-black dragon twisted and turned through woodland obstacles. Toothless needed to make little effort to go unseen—owing both to his aerial skills and his natural affinity for stealth as a Night Fury—yet he was being especially meticulous to go unnoticed by…well, everyone. The young Alpha was agitated beyond belief, desperately seeking the one thing that seemed to elude him daily: peace and quiet. Assured that he had drawn no attention to himself, Toothless quickly darted over a rocky outcropping to arrive at his destination. The cove was dimly lit as the full moon cast a pale light across the pond, with the reflection of vast arrays of stars sparkling across the surface. With so many dragons now inhabiting Berk, Toothless felt extremely lucky that this place continued to remain secret, a location where he—and occasionally Hiccup—could escape the annoyance and hustle of village life to return to nature's peace.
A well-placed stream of plasma bathed the ground in tendrils of bright color, and the gentle heat cut through the chill evening breeze. Loose embers fizzled in the cool air as Toothless curled up on the ashy mound. He let a brief laugh escape him; there was a time when the Night Fury would've fought 100 dragons just to escape the confines of this cove, but that was many years ago. Much had changed for better and for worse, and as Toothless allowed his muscles to relax, he let the frustrations of recent months flood across his imagination. Being the Alpha of a nest was not anything like he had envisioned it, not that it had ever crossed his mind even before he shattered the tusk off of the charred Bewilderbeast. He had always been content with the respect and admiration of the other dragon residents of Berk, but never had he been in a position of near-absolute responsibility over them. Toothless shook his head as he let loose a yawn, trying to reconcile his displeasure. He had spared no time thinking of consequences when he stood to defend Hiccup and the island that day, nor would he think of taking it back for one second. But with the threat of imminent danger long passed, Toothless was forced to address the truth. He felt grounded again, tied down by the weight of being Alpha.
The honor and thrill that came with being the respected leader of a nest had long faded; while Toothless doubtless put great effort into meeting the needs of the island's dragons, there were a litany of inconveniences and just plain stupidity that now plagued his day-to-day life. Coexistence with humans had done little to change the fact that dragons were predators and frequently found excuses to fight each other, and rarely could Toothless go throughout the day without being called to be the deciding factor in a conflict that any intelligent creature could solve simply by leaving and finding somewhere else to live. Why does a Zippleback need this particular tree to sleep in, on an island covered in no small part by—you guessed it—trees? No, the Scauldrons do not have exclusive rights to the harbor water, especially when those waters are where the large sea dragons fit the least and damage the ships. Tight living in a nest was by no means abnormal, but Toothless imagined that the more time the dragons spent watching human society, the more they themselves forgot their inherent differences in lifestyle.
Rolling onto his back, the Night Fury took in the wide expanse of starlight that bathed the night sky. If he didn't feel so exhausted, he would be up there aimlessly gliding through the sparse clouds. He didn't belong down here ruling over large swathes of dragons; he was a Night Fury, a creature of solitude, and only Hiccup and his closest friends had any right to demand that he give up his wild nature. Toothless missed the days where he and Hiccup could roam the skies in search of new islands, or even further back to the numerous adventures and escapades on Dragon's Edge. That was the life he saw for himself—a life of adventure, of adapting to the unexpected. And the responsibility of Alpha was slowly burying it in routines and trivial matters.
And I have no one to share it with.
Toothless tried to bury the thought the moment it slipped out of his subconscious. He had Hiccup, after all, and the friends he had made on Berk—human and dragon. But the obvious truth still lingered; in all this time, in all that he had discovered and experienced with Hiccup, he still had found no evidence of his own kind. The young dragon groaned as he shifted into a more comfortable position, hoping that fatigue would eventually calm his rapidly questioning brain. He was still in the prime of his youth, not even twenty-two years of age, and the world remained a vast and unexplored place. But despite his attempts to conjure some optimism, Toothless found himself wishing for any sign—no, any evidence at all—of something pointing to the existence of other Night Furies. His friendship with Hiccup meant more to him than he could describe, and he would continue to rule as Alpha for as long as he was able. But what Toothless wouldn't give for an adventure, a glimpse into the unknown, and even more, a glimpse at another Night Fury. However, those hopes would have to endure for another time, as sleep finally came for the night.