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knight-hiccup · 1 day ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐌 | Hiccup x Fem!Reader ₆

This is Chapter 6 to this Hiccup series -> Masterlist here. Previous Chapter : Next Chapter

Pairing: Hiccup x fem!reader Genre: romance, fantasy, suspense, drama, angst, dark, vioIence, friends to lovers, dark themes, heavy Viking lore, Norse mythology, canon divergence, slow burn Word count: 13.3k Warnings: This will have the lore of the films + shows but with much darker themes. Gore/blood, mentions of death, Norse mythology, some realistic dragon themes, more realistic scenarios, and mature themes starting at the point httyd 2 ark comes in, so, ofc NSFW. Any other warnings will be properly tagged upon story progression. A/N: Reader description not described besides clothing true to Viking/httyd fashion from time to time.

CHAPTER 6

The lookout tower stood like a sentinel above Berk, its weathered silhouette rising stark against the bruised purple of the evening sky. The village homes sprawled below, their dark outlines softened by the fading light, while the tower's rough-hewn stair planks groaned and creaked under your boots as you climbed.

Gobber was ahead, his heavy steps thudding with purpose, his hammer-hand swinging at his side. At the top, Hiccup's lanky frame was already sprawled beside the fire pit, one leg stretched out lazily as he poked at the glowing embers with a stick. The flames caught in his auburn hair, casting a warm, flickering glow across his sharp features as he glanced up, a spark of curiosity in his green eyes.

The wind up here was a soft howl, curling around the tower and tugging at the edges of your tunic with invisible fingers. It carried the faint, briny tang of the sea, mingling with the sharp snap of the fire as its heat reached out to lick at your chilled hands. You dropped onto a log beside Gobber, the wood rough against your legs, and the three of you settled into a loose circle.

Below, Berk glittered in the dusk, its torchlights flickering like stars swallowed by the encroaching night. The warmth of the fire seeped into your bones, chasing away the day's lingering aches, and for a moment, the world felt still—save for the crackle of the flames and the distant murmur of the village winding down.

Hiccup broke the quiet first, his grin flashing quick and bright as he leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. His eyes darted between you and Gobber, still buzzing with the restless energy of the day's Gronckle chaos.

"Alright, I missed her trial—spill it, what happened? She won't give me details," he demanded, his voice edged with impatience as he jerked his chin toward you.

You shifted on the log, feeling the faint itch of the still healing Nadder scar beneath your sleeve, a quiet reminder of the morning's madness. Gobber barked a laugh, the sound rough and booming, his stump thudding against the log as he adjusted his bulk. His weathered face split into a proud, toothy grin, the firelight dancing across the deep lines etched there.

"Aye, ye should've seen it, lad—she kept rollin' and dodgin' that beast till it wheezed and finally flopped over, belly up like a bloated fish!" he roared, his hammer-hand slashing through the air in broad, dramatic arcs as he mimed your every duck and weave.

His voice thickened with relish, savoring the retelling, and you couldn't help the small, tight smile that tugged at your lips. You shrugged it off, brushing your hands together as if to shake away the attention.

"It's nothing, though—" you started, redirecting the focus with a quick nod toward Hiccup.

"Hiccup took it out in seconds. That was incredible." Your tone stayed steady, but there was a quiet pride laced beneath it, one you couldn't quite bury.

Hiccup ducked his head, a flush creeping up his neck as the firelight caught the faint pink in his cheeks. Gobber wasn't letting it go, though—his laugh rumbled deeper, a gravelly quake as he clapped Hiccup's shoulder hard enough to jostle him forward.

"Aye, I've never seen that in me life! Dropped that Gronckle like a sack o' spuds!" he crowed, then turned to you, his eyes softening, the edges crinkling with something warm.

"Both o' ye made me real proud today—I couldn't be prouder o' how far ye've come, ye scrappy wee double-team misfits." The words hit like a weight, sinking into the cracks the day had carved out, and you caught Hiccup's gaze across the fire.

His grin softened too, a flicker of shared history passing between you—late nights in the forge, the secrets behind his wild tactics—all unspoken but thrumming in the quiet space you shared.

Gobber tossed another log onto the pile, sending a burst of sparks spiraling into the night as he launched into a dozen new tales from his own trial days. "Took a Monstrous Nightmare's tail to the face, I did, and still swung me axe!" he bellowed, his voice a gravelly roar that rolled over the wind.

You doubled over, laughter tearing from your chest, hands clutching your ribs as the absurd image took root in your mind.

Hiccup snorted dryly, leaning close to mutter, "More like the Nightmare thought it was shooing a gnat." His words were quick and low, barely cutting through the fire's snap, but Gobber caught them.

His good hand swung out, clipping Hiccup's shoulder in a mock cuff, his weathered face creasing with a wide, unrepentant grin. The night stretched on like that—stories piling atop one another, each more outrageous than the last. Hiccup threw himself into his recounting, arms and shoulders carving the air in exaggerated sweeps as he spun his version of the day's chaos, peppered with embellishments you could spot from a mile off.

When asked, you cut in, voice calm but firm, detailing the Gronckle's lava blast—the heat licking so close it left a faint char on your boot leather. Gobber's cackle wove through it all, a deep, jagged sound that echoed into the air, his broad chest swelling with pride as he watched you and Hiccup trade barbs and memories, the firelight painting long shadows across his gleaming, weathered face and smiling eyes.

The next morning came swiftly, the taste of fresh fruits—sweet and sharp—still clinging to your tongue as you finished breakfast. You joined the others, your boots scuffing the dirt as you trudged toward the arena for another Nadder trial. The early light spilled across Berk's uneven sprawl, casting long, familiar, jagged shadows that stretched over the rocky ground.

The air buzzed with a restless energy as you reached the arena, the clash erupting almost the moment you were all in position. Gobber's voice rang out, sharp and commanding—strike hard, stay sharp, don't falter—and you felt your grip tighten around the leather strap of your shield as the gate rattled open with a groan.

The Nadder exploded into view, a vivid blaze of color against the drab stone walls. Its scales shimmered in sharp blues and golds, catching the morning sun as it lunged forward, spines bristling. Astrid was on it in a heartbeat, her movements a honed blur as she charged with lethal precision.

Her axe arced high, glinting as it poised to cleave through the thick muscle of the dragon's neck, the air thrumming with the force of her intent. The Nadder reared to meet her, its talons gouging the stone—until Hiccup outpaced her. He stood unmoving—gently dropping his chosen weapon to the ground as the beast charged at him head on.

With a trick he'd honed with Toothless the day before, he scratched the dragon under its chin, out of sight from the others. The Nadder froze, then slumped into a sudden stupor, its vivid frame collapsing before it could lash out again. It hit the ground at Hiccup's feet, limbs loose, breath shallow—almost relaxed—its fall so perfectly timed that Astrid's blade halted just shy of its scaled throat, the air still vibrating from her swing.

You were right there near him when it happened, the two of you locking eyes as identical wide grins split your faces. The thrill of it surged through you, electric and wild, and you tilted your head toward him, nodding in pure, unrestrained delight. The arena pulsed with anticipation, the crowd's cheers swelling until the gates creaked open once more.

A flood of people poured through—children scrambling forward, warriors clapping, onlookers shouting—their voices rising in a chaotic roar. They swarmed Hiccup, encircling him, their hands slapping his shoulders, their words tumbling over one another in a frantic bid to be heard, all woven with admiration for his feat. You hung back at the crowd's edge, watching, their praise a living thing that drowned out the quieter sounds of the morning.

The day rolled on, the scene shifting in your mind as the sun climbed higher. After the arena's chaos faded, you found yourself wandering Berk's winding paths, the salty breeze tugging at your hair and cooling the sweat on your skin. You'd caught Hiccup's eye earlier, a silent pact passing between you—no words, just a flicker of understanding in his glance.

Later, when the village settled into its usual clamor of Hooligan life—shouts, clanging hammers, the distant bellow of dragons—you became his conspirator. With a quick check over your shoulder to ensure no one was watching, you helped him slip away from Berk's prying eyes. Together, you wove through the familiar maze of wooden houses and rocky outcrops, your footsteps soft against the earth as you guided him toward the forest's edge.

The trees loomed as you reached the outskirts, their gnarled branches tangling overhead to form a canopy that dappled the ground with shifting light. You paused there, shooting him a knowing look before stepping back to stand guard. He vanished into the undergrowth, his lanky frame swallowed by the green as he headed for the secluded spot where Toothless waited, the wilderness low croon drifting faintly through the leaves.

You lingered behind, leaning against a tree trunk, your senses sharp for any rustle or shout from approaching villagers. You'd promised to cover for him, to give him a break from the constant eyes and expectations, and you were ready—armed with a quick lie about an errand or a chore if anyone asked.

The forest stretched out before you, alive with the chirps of birds and the snap of twigs, and as Hiccup disappeared to train with Toothless in peace, you turned back toward home, the weight of the day settling into something steady and sure.

The Great Hall was alive with its usual clamor in the night, a sprawling cavern of noise and warmth carved out of Berk's heart. The grand tables stretched long and wide beneath the vaulted stone ceiling, their scarred wooden surfaces gleaming faintly under the flickering light of the iron chandeliers overhead and the surrounding hearths.

The air thrummed with the low roar of voices—Vikings swapping tales, clinking mugs, and barking laughter that echoed off the stone walls. You sat alone at one of the tables near the center, your usual spot, legs dangling off the bench as you traced a finger along a groove in the wood.

The seat beside you was empty, saved as always for Hiccup—another quiet ritual between you, unspoken but understood. Your eyes flicked toward the heavy doors every so often, waiting for that familiar lanky figure to slip through.

The doors creaked open at last, and there he was—Hiccup, his auburn hair a little wild from the wind, his green eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. A quick grin tugged at his lips, and he wove through the chaos, dodging a burly Viking hefting a tray of roast and sidestepping a spilled mug of mead.

You shifted slightly, making room as he reached the table and dropped onto the bench beside you with a small, relieved huff. "Saved me a spot again, huh?" he said, his voice light but carrying that dry edge you knew so well. You smirked, nudging him with your elbow.

"Someone's gotta keep you from standing in a corner all night."

Before he could fire back, the air shifted—boots scuffed the floor, and a shadow loomed as Snotlout plopped down on Hiccup's other side with a loud thud, his broad frame jostling the table.

"Well, well, if it ain't the dragon tamer himself!" he crowed, clapping Hiccup's shoulder hard enough to make him wince.

You barely had time to laugh before the others descended like a storm. Fishlegs shuffled in, his round face flushed with excitement as he clutched a battered notebook, already rambling about Hiccups arena achievements. Tuffnut and Ruffnut barreled over next, shoving each other with Tuffnut simply running across his own table as they claimed spots across from Hiccup, their elbows—and feet—knocking mugs aside.

A handful of other teens—some you knew, some you didn't—swarmed in too, along with a few older Vikings, their voices rising in a chaotic tangle of questions and boasts about Hiccup's latest stunt.

You leaned back, watching the tide roll in, when one of the teens—a wiry kid with a mop of blond hair—pushed forward, her shoulder slamming into yours without a glance. The force sent you sliding off the bench, your hands shooting out behind you to catch yourself. Your palms hit the cold stone floor, keeping your head from smacking the edge of the table as you landed with a muffled grunt.

The kid didn't notice, already scrambling into your spot beside Hiccup, her voice loud and eager as she jabbered about dragon training in a flirtatious way. The crowd tightened around Hiccup, a wall of bodies and noise, their hands clapping his back, their words tripping over each other in a frenzy of admiration.

You sat there for a beat, palms pressed to the floor, legs splayed out as you blinked up at the mess. Hiccup's head poked out from the throng, his eyes wide and darting toward you, a flicker of panic crossing his face as he mouthed something—maybe an apology, maybe your name—but it was swallowed by the din.

You didn't wait to figure it out. Crawling backward, you slid out from under the tangle of boots and elbows, the rough stone scraping your knees as you pulled yourself free of the chaos. The crowd didn't part, didn't even notice, too busy pressing in around a very overwhelmed Hiccup, whose hands flailed faintly as he tried to answer three questions at once.

But you weren't mad—no heat flared in your chest; no scowl twisted your face. Instead, a snort bubbled up, sharp and involuntary, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle it as you rose to your feet. Brushing the dust off your tunic, you glanced back at Hiccup—his lanky frame half-buried under the mob, his expression a mix of nerves and resignation—and another laugh slipped out, muffled against your palm.

Shaking your head, you turned toward the far end of the hall, weaving through the scattered Vikings and trays of half-eaten food. The kitchen loomed ahead, its wide archway spilling out the warm scent of bread and stew, and you slipped inside without a backward glance.

The noise of the hall dulled as the kitchen's heat wrapped around you, the clatter of pots and the low hum of the cooks taking over. You snagged a wooden spoon from a rack and stepped toward the hearth, where a pot of something savory bubbled away.

Hiccup would survive out there—he always did, even if he'd be a jittery mess by the end of it. For now, you'd leave him to his admirers, a faint smirk tugging at your lips as you stirred the stew, the steam rising to meet you. Let them fawn over him; you'd catch up later.

The night had deepened over Berk after you had gone home. The sky a thick quilt of stars pricked against the black that shown the unknown—almost as if Asgard was in reach. You were sprawled by the hearth in your small home, the fire's glow painting the rough wooden walls in soft oranges and golds.

The warmth seeped into the floorboards beneath you, chasing off the evening chill as you poked at the embers with a stick, coaxing a few more sparks to life. The village outside had quieted, the distant clatter of the Great Hall fading into a low hum, when a soft knock rattled your back door. You tilted your head, brow furrowing, and hauled yourself up, brushing soot off your hands as you crossed the room.

Peeking through the crack, you spotted Hiccup—his lanky frame hunched slightly, hands stuffed into his gilet like he wasn't sure what to do with them. His auburn hair was a mess, windswept from who-knows-what, and his green eyes flicked up to meet yours as you swung the door wide.

"Hey," he started, voice a little sheepish, "I, uh—just wanted to say sorry. For earlier. You know, the whole. . .table thing." He gestured vaguely, like he could mime the chaos of the Great Hall into existence.

You snorted, leaning against the door frame with a lopsided grin, waving him off before he could ramble himself into a knot. "Forget it, Hiccup. I'm fine—floor's not so bad once you get used to it."

You stepped back, jerking your head toward the hearth. "Come in already, it's freezing. How'd the flight test go with Toothless? You've got that look—like you either crashed into something or figured out how to fly upside down."

He ducked inside, a small laugh slipping out as he trailed you to the fire. "No crashes this time, promise. Went better than I thought, actually."

He dropped onto the floor beside you, stretching his legs out as the warmth curled around you both. "We tweaked the tail fin again—got a smoother turn out of it. He's fast, too. Like, really fast. I think he's showing off half the time."

His eyes lit up, hands gesturing in quick, excited arcs as he talked, and you couldn't help but smile at the way he came alive, the nervous edge melting off him.

"Showing off, huh? Sounds like someone else I know," you say, nudging his boot with yours. He shot you a mock glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, betraying him. "Yeah, well, he's got the wings for it. I'm just along for the ride."

He leaned back on his hands, the firelight catching the faint freckles dusting his cheeks. "You should've seen him—he's learning quick. Few mistakes were made so I need to add a few more things to the straps. Nearly lost my stomach a few times, but it was. . .I dunno, amazing."

"Amazing," you echoed, softer, resting your chin on your knees as you watched him. "You're getting good at this, Hiccup. Toothless is lucky to have you." He blinked at you, caught off guard, and a flush crept up his neck, pink against the glow.

"I—uh, thanks," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "He's the real star, though."

The conversation drifted from there, easy and quiet—bits about the wind, the way Toothless warbled when he was pleased, a dumb joke about Tuffnut tripping over his own spear earlier. The fire crackled lower, its warmth pulling at your eyelids, and you didn't notice when your words started to slur, or when Hiccup's voice softened into a hum.

Your shoulder brushed his as you both sank lower, the floorboards cradling you like an old friend. Before long, the steady rhythm of the hearth lulled you both under, your breathing syncing as you drifted offside by side.

Hiccup stirred first, the faint gray of pre-dawn creeping through the window cracks. His eyes fluttered open, groggy, and he froze as the world came into focus. You were close—really close—your head tilted toward him, one arm tucked under your cheek, the other resting near his hand. Your face was soft in sleep, lips parted slightly, and a strand of hair had fallen across your cheek to your nose, fluttering with each breath. The fire had dulled to embers, but the warmth still lingered, wrapping you both in its fading embrace.

His heart did a hard flip, heat rushing to his face so fast he was sure it'd wake you up. Red crept from his ears to his cheeks, a blazing flush he couldn't stop, and he swallowed hard, barely daring to move. You looked. . .peaceful. Too peaceful to disturb.

His gaze darted around, landing on the bear skin draped over a nearby stool—thick and shaggy, one of Gobber's old hunting trophies. Careful not to jostle you, he reached for it, his fingers fumbling as he tugged it free. He draped it over you, tucking it gently around your shoulders, the fur swallowing you in a cozy heap. You shifted slightly, a small hum escaping, but didn't wake, and Hiccup let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He sat there a moment longer, knees pulled up, watching the way the dawn light brushed your face. A dumb, lopsided smile tugged at his lips—soft and unguarded, the kind he'd never let anyone catch. Then, with a quiet creak, he pushed himself up, brushing off his tunic.

Toothless was waiting at the cove, and the next match against the Terrible Terror loomed just hours away. He slipped out the door, casting one last glance back at you—curled up under the bear skin, warm and safe—and his grin widened just a little before he headed into the cool morning air, already itching to take to the sky again.

A few hours had passed since the quiet warmth of your hearth, and now you stood near the center of the training grounds, the caked dirt beneath your boots packed hard from countless scuffles. Gobber was beside you, his broad frame leaning on his hammer-hand as he grumbled under his breath, his eye narrowed at something in the distance.

The others—Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut—were scattered around the arena, half-dazed from the early hour. Astrid was sharpening her axe with slow, methodical strokes, focused. Snotlout sprawled against a barrel, snoring faintly, while Fishlegs mumbled dragon facts in a doze nodding off, his notebook slipping from his lap. The twins were off in a corner, lazily tossing a rock back and forth, their laughter muted and sluggish.

You crossed your arms, eyebrow quirked as you nudged Gobber with your elbow. "Alright, out with it—what's got you muttering like a cranky old goat? You've been pacing around for ten minutes making us wait."

He huffed, his long mustache bristling as he shot you a sidelong glare, but there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth that betrayed him. "Oi, watch it, lass—I've fought dragons bigger'n yer head with less lip," he shot back, his voice a low growl.

You grinned wider, undeterred. "Yeah, and I've dodged Nadders faster than you can swing that thing. Come on, Gobber, spit it out already."

He shifted his weight, the stump of his leg thudding against the ground as he glanced around, making sure the others were too out of it to eavesdrop. "Yer gonna make me say it, aren't ye?" he muttered, rubbing his good hand over his face.

You leaned in, eyes glinting with mischief. "Yep. You're squirming like a worm on a hook—just tell me."

He groaned, then finally bent closer, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "One o' the Terrible Terrors—it's gone. Slipped right outta the cage somehow. Thing's probably scamperin' around the Berk right now, and I'm supposed to be runnin' this blasted match!"

His tone was thick with exasperation, his brow creasing deep as he waved his hammer-hand toward the rows of locked pens.

You blinked, then bit back a laugh, straightening up as the weight of it sank in. "What, seriously? One of those little menaces got loose?"

Gobber's scowl deepened, his good hand jabbing the air. "Aye, and don't ye dare laugh, ye wee troublemaker—it's upsettin' me whole plan!" Before you could tease him further, a breathless huff cut through the air, and Hiccup stumbled into view, panting as he skidded to a stop beside Gobber.

His hair was a wild tangle, his cheeks flushed from running, and he bent over, hands on his knees, gulping air. "Sorry—sorry. Sorry. I'm late. Too—I—I. . .too-k a detour. . .over the cliffs—," he managed between breaths, shooting you a quick, sheepish grin with wide eyes as he almost said Toothless aloud.

You snorted, shaking your head, then turned back to Gobber, resting a hand on his arm. "Hey, it's fine, alright? The three of us'll handle it later—me, Hiccup, and you. We'll track down that sneaky little Terror before it chews through half the village."

You kept your tone light, reassuring, and Gobber's shoulders slumped slightly, though his grumble didn't quite fade. "Aye, ye'd better. I'm not explainin' this to Stoick if it sets fire to somethin'."

Hiccup straightened, catching his breath, and quirked a brow at you. "Wait, what'd I miss? What's loose?" You smirked, leaning closer to him. "One of the Terrors pulled a jailbreak. Gobber's having a meltdown about it."

Hiccup's eyes widened, then a laugh bubbled out of him, short and bright. "Oh, great. That's. . .that's perfect timing." Gobber swatted at him with his good hand, missing by a hair.

"Oi, none o' that cheek, lad—ye're helpin' fix this mess!" Hiccup dodged, still grinning, and you couldn't help but join in, the three of you forming a little knot of conspiratorial energy amidst the sleepy arena.

But the moment didn't last long. A horn blared from the edge of the grounds, sharp and insistent, signaling the start of the challenge. The others jolted awake—or at least tried to—Snotlout snorting himself upright, Astrid snapping her axe to her side, and the twins stumbling to their feet with bleary curses.

Gobber straightened, his grumpiness shifting to focus as he barked, "Right, ye lot—up and at 'em! Terrible Terror match starts now, and don't ye dare slack!

You shot Hiccup a quick look, your grin turning sly. "Guess the hunt's on hold. Let's survive this first." He nodded, still catching his breath, and the challenge kicked off—minus one sneaky Terror still unaccounted for.

The arena buzzed with a restless energy then as you all gathered in a loose semicircle before the large cage, its iron bars scratched and dented from years of dragon-wrangling. A tiny door, no bigger than a breadbox, was set into the base—just the right size for the smallest beast in the lineup.

The others shuffled into place beside you, still shaking off the morning haze. Astrid gripped her axe with a sleepy scowl, Snotlout flexed his shoulders like he was about to wrestle the thing barehanded, and Fishlegs clutched his notebook—hiding behind it as his eyes looked over, muttering to himself. Tuffnut and Ruffnut jostled each other, snickering as they craned their necks to peek inside.

"Meet the Terrible Terror!" Gobber bellowed, his voice cutting through the chatter like a war horn as he pushed a bar down.

He thumped his hammer-hand against the cage for emphasis, the clang echoing off the timber walls. You and Hiccup turned toward the pens just as the tiny door rattled open with a squeak, revealing a flash of scales and a pair of glinting eyes. The little dragon shot out like an arrow, all sharp claws and flapping wings, smaller than a housecat but twice as feral.

"Ha! It's like the size of my—!" Tuffnut started, his grin wide and cocky, but before he could finish, the Terror launched itself at his face.

It latched onto his nose with a snarl, tiny teeth sinking in as Tuffnut flailed, his shouts bouncing around the arena. "Get it off! Get it off!"

The crowd erupted—Ruffnut doubled over cackling, Snotlout barked a laugh, and even Astrid's lips twitched as Tuffnut stumbled in circles, swatting at the dragon like it was a persistent fly. You bit back a grin, glancing at Hiccup, who was already moving. In one smooth, practiced motion, he hefted his shield, angling it just so to catch the sun's glare.

A bright dot of light flickered to life on the stone floor, darting and dancing as he tilted the shield with steady hands. The Terror froze mid-gnaw, its head snapping toward the speck like a cat spotting a moth. Tuffnut yelped as it released his nose and took off, wings delighted, claws prancing as it chased the elusive glow in frantic loops around the ground.

"Wow—he's better than you ever were!" Tuffnut said to a glaring Astrid.

Hiccup kept his cool, stepping lightly as he guided the little beast in a winding path, the light dot skittering across the ground. You watched, half-amazed, half-amused, as he led it back toward the cage, calm as if he were herding a stray lamb. The Terror darted through the tiny door with a final triumphant snap of its jaws, and Hiccup dropped his foot onto the hatch, pinning it shut with a soft thud.

The dragon scrabbled inside, letting out a muffled squawk, but the door held firm. He held his shield close, then turned to face you, his lips curling into a lopsided smile that lit up his whole face—proud, a little shy, and aimed right at you.

You couldn't help it; a laugh slipped out, bright and warm, and you shook your head as you met his gaze. "Nice trick," you called over the lingering chaos, Tuffnut still rubbing his nose and muttering curses behind you.

Hiccup shrugged, his grin widening as he stepped closer, the shield dangling at his side. "Figured it'd work. I'll explain later," His eyes sparkled with that quiet mischief you knew so well.

The next day dawned quieter than most, a rare break before the trial that would whittle the trainees down to the final two—those who'd face the last challenge and earn the right to kill a dragon. The weight of it hung in the air, but for now, you let it slip away, your boots crunching over the mossy stones as you descended into the cove alone.

Toothless was already there of course, sprawled out on a slab of sun-warmed rock, his black scales glinting faintly in the dappled light filtering through the trees. His tail flicked lazily—happily as you approached.

You sank down beside him, resting a hand on his broad, smooth head. "Hey, you big beauty," you murmured, your fingers tracing the ridges above his nose. Toothless let out a low, rumbling purr, his lids drifting shut as he leaned into your touch.

It was his favorite—something about the slow, steady strokes always melted him into a puddle of contentment, and you couldn't help but smile as his breathing deepened, the sound vibrating through your palm. You shifted closer, sitting cross-legged as you kept up the rhythm, the cove's stillness wrapping around you both like a blanket.

"Just you and me for a bit, huh?" you said softly, and he huffed a warm breath, nuzzling your hand.

You'd been there a while—longer than usual, lost in the quiet—when a rustle broke through the trees. Toothless's ears perked, his eyes snapping open, and you turned just as Hiccup stumbled into the clearing, panting hard.

His chest heaved, his hair a sweaty mess plastered to his forehead, and he kept throwing quick, jittery glances over his shoulder like something might burst out of the forest behind him. Toothless leapt up, bounding over with a startled warble, his head tilting as he sniffed at Hiccup's tunic.

You stood, brushing off your knees, your brow furrowing. "Hiccup, what's wrong? You look like you just outran a swarm of Terrors."

He waved a hand, still catching his breath as he dropped the bundle of gear he'd been clutching under one arm. "It's—whew—nothing, really. Just. . .Astrid." He straightened, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

"I was walking through the woods, heading here like we planned, and she was out there training—chopping logs with that axe like they owed her gold. She spotted me, and I—I didn't know if she'd follow, so I took the long way around. You know, through the ravine, past the old oak? No one's behind me, though—I checked."

Toothless snorted, nudging Hiccup's side with his snout, and you laughed, the tension easing out of your shoulders. "You're paranoid. She's probably still terrorizing that poor stump."

Hiccup grinned, sheepish but relieved, and plopped down onto the grass beside the gear—a tangle of leather straps, ropes and metal fittings for Toothless's saddle and tail.

"Yeah, well, better safe than interrogated. She's got a way of staring right through you." He patted Toothless's flank as the dragon flopped back down, already nosing at the pile of equipment.

You settled next to them, picking up a strap to untangle it. "So, what's the plan? Finish the tail rig today?"

Hiccup nodded, his energy shifting as he launched into it. "Yep—got the new counterweight figured out. Should make the turns sharper without throwing him off balance. Oh, and I tweaked the saddle straps—less chafing for him, more grip for me."

The day slipped by like that, the two of you hunched over the gear in the cove's soft light. You handed him tools, held pieces in place while he tinkered, and listened as he rambled about drag coefficients and wind resistance—his excitement kept you hooked.

Toothless sprawled nearby, occasionally nudging the saddle with a curious grunt as Hiccup tested fittings on him. By afternoon, it was ready, and Hiccup took him up for flight tests—short loops at first, then longer swoops over the cove's cliffs. You sat on the rock, shielding your eyes against the sun as they soared, Toothless's wings cutting the air with a grace that made your chest ache.

"Looking good!" you shouted as they landed, Hiccup sliding off with a triumphant grin, his hair even wilder than before.

Twilight crept in as you finally packed up, the sky bruising purple and gold over the treetops. You and Hiccup climbed out of the cove together, gear slung over his shoulder, Toothless bounding off toward his own hideout. At the fork in the path, you paused, turning to him.

"See you tomorrow, dragon boy. Don't let Astrid catch you sneaking around again." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No promises. Night." You waved, heading your separate ways—him toward the village center, you toward your small house near the forge.

The familiar outline of your home came into view, but something tugged at your gut as you neared—the door was ajar, half-open against the frame. Your steps slowed, a prickle of unease crawling up your spine. You'd shut it tight that morning, hadn't you? Hand hovering to grab a rock on the ground, you nudged the door wider with your foot, peering into the dim interior.

The hearth glowed low, casting long shadows across the floor, and the faint bubble of your fish stew pot hummed from the fire—just as you'd left it, simmering slow and steady. No one was there. No boot prints, no overturned chairs—just the quiet creak of the house settling. You let out a breath, shaking your head at yourself as you stepped inside and latched the door firm.

"Getting jumpy over nothing," you muttered, stirring the stew with a faint smile, the warmth of the day still lingering in your bones.

You reached for a wooden bowl from the stack by the hearth, the rough grain familiar under your fingertips, and ladled a steaming portion of fish stew from the pot. The rich, salty aroma curled up with the heat as you carried it to the table, setting it down with a soft clunk.

The day's fatigue tugged at you, a dull ache in your shoulders from training and tinkering with Hiccup, so you turned back toward the pantry nook. "Bread and ale," you mumbled to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you shuffled off to fetch them, the floorboards creaking under your boots.

The small shelf in the corner held a loaf of crusty, soft bread and a clay jug of ale, and you grabbed them both, balancing the loaf under your arm as you headed back. But when you stepped up to the table, your brows knit together. The bowl sat there, empty—licked clean, not a drop of stew left clinging to the sides.

You blinked, tilting your head. "Didn't I—?" you started, then shook it off with a huff, a tired laugh slipping out. "Gods, I'm losing it. Must be more beat than I thought."

Shrugging, you turned back to the pot, snagging another bowl from the stack. You scooped up a fresh serving, the ladle scraping the bottom as you muttered, "No more stew gremlins tonight." You yawned.

You set the new bowl on the table, careful this time, but as you shifted to grab the bread, your wooden spoon slipped from your fingers. It clattered to the floor, and you sighed, bending down to snatch it up. Your knees creaked as you straightened, brushing the spoon against your tunic—and then you froze.

A pair of huge, bright yellow eyes stared back at you from across the table, glowing like twin lanterns in the dim light. They were wide and unblinking, set in a small, scaly face smeared with fish stew, the mess dripping from its jaws.

Your breath caught, heart lurching as you locked eyes with the creature. It was a Terrible Terror—the one that'd slipped the arena cages, no doubt. Its scales shimmered a deep, mottled gray and orange, and its left wing hung limp at an odd angle, the membrane torn and bruised from its escape.

For a long minute, you just stared at each other, the silence thick between you. The dragon didn't flinch, her tongue flicking out to lick around her stew-smeared mouth, then darting up to swipe across one eye like a lizard. With a sudden twitch, she skittered back, hopping off the table and retreating a few steps, her tail flicking nervously.

"Whoa, whoa, hey," you whispered, keeping your voice low and soft as you raised a hand. "It's okay, little buddy. I won't hurt you. Here—look."

Moving slow, you edged toward the pot, fishing out a small chunk of fish from the stew with your fingers with a hiss from the heat. The scent wafted up, sharp and briny, and you held it out, arm steady despite the quick thump of your pulse. She froze, her yellow eyes narrowing as she tracked the offering. She crept forward, claws clicking faintly on the floor, her broken wing dragging slightly—cautious, just like Toothless had been with you that first time.

Then, in a flash, she lunged, snatching the fish from your hand with a snap of her jaws. You flinched, jerking back as her teeth grazed your fingertips—not hard, but enough to startle you.

"Easy!" you yelped, shaking out your hand, but the little thing just sat there, chewing her prize with quick, jerky bites. Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, and her tail gave a slow, tentative wag, the tip brushing the floor like a shy apology.

You exhaled, a grin tugging at your lips as the tension melted away. "Well, you're a bold little menace, aren't you?"

She tilted her head, licking her chops clean, and something warm bloomed in your chest. Those big, unblinking eyes, that little wag—she was a scrappy thing, fierce despite her smaller than normal Terrible Terror size and her busted wing.

You sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor, resting your chin in your hand as you watched her. "Guess you're staying for dinner, huh, little one?" you murmured, and she chirped—a small, raspy sound—before inching closer, her tail wagging a bit faster.

You were hooked, plain and simple, already smitten with the tiny terror who'd broken into your house and stolen your stew.

You stayed there on the floor, the warmth of the hearth seeping through the wood and into your legs as the dragon finished another piece of fish, her tiny tongue darting out to swipe the last bits from her scaly snout. She gave a small, satisfied huff, her bright yellow eyes blinking slowly as she studied you.

You held still, barely breathing, not wanting to spook her off. Then, to your surprise, she shuffled closer, her claws tapping a faint rhythm on the floorboards. Her broken wing dragged a little, but she didn't seem to mind, her focus locked on you with that unblinking stare.

Before you could react, she hopped up, her small body surprisingly light as she clambered into your lap. She circled thrice, like a cat picking its spot, then flopped down with a soft thud, tucking her good wing against her side. Her head settled against your knee, and a low, rumbling purr vibrated through her, the sound so deep for something so small it made you laugh under your breath.

"Oh, you're making yourself at home now, huh?" you murmured, resting a tentative hand on her back. Her scales were smooth and warm under your palm, and she didn't flinch—just leaned into the touch, her tail curling lazily around your wrist like a little bracelet.

You sat there for a while, stroking her gently as her purring deepened, her eyes drifting shut. The firelight danced across her scales, picking out flecks of red and orange you hadn't noticed before, and that busted wing twitched faintly as she relaxed. She was a mess—stew still smeared on her snout, one wing drooping—but there was something about her, fierce and fragile all at once, that tugged at you hard.

"You're a tough little thing, aren't you, little Menace?" you whispered, your fingers tracing the ridge of her spine. She let out a sleepy chirp, nuzzling closer, and your heart did a soft, helpless flip.

But as the quiet stretched on, a thought sparked in your mind, sharp and insistent. Hiccup. You needed to tell him—right now. He'd know what to do about that wing, how to help her, and besides, he'd lose his mind over this. A Terrible Terror sneaking into your house?

Escaping the arena and picking you to crash with? He'd be halfway between thrilled and jealous, probably already sketching out a splint in his head. You glanced down at Menace—the name you thought fitting in the moment—still curled up in your lap, her breathing slow and steady, and bit your lip.

"Guess I can't just leave you here," you muttered, half to her, half to yourself.

Careful not to jostle her too much, you slid your hands beneath her small frame, lifting her as you stood. She stirred, cracking one eye open with a grumbly warble, but didn't fight it—just nestled deeper into your arms, her tail flicking once before going still. You grabbed your cloak from the hook by the door, draping it over your shoulders with one hand, and stepped out into the cool air, Menace cradled against your chest.

The village was hushed, the last streaks of daylight fading over the rooftops, and you set off toward Hiccup's place, your mind racing with how you'd break the news. "Wait till he sees you, little troublemaker," you said softly, grinning as Menace purred against you, oblivious to the excitement she'd just sparked.

The twilight had deepened as you slipped through Berk's winding paths, the sky now a bruised purple streaked with fading gold turning night. Menace stayed nestled in your arms, her small, warm weight pressed against your chest beneath the cloak you'd draped over her. Her purring had softened to a faint hum, her broken wing tucked awkwardly against her side as she dozed.

You kept your steps light, boots barely scuffing the dirt as you wove between the shadowed outlines of houses. The village was mostly quiet, but the occasional clatter of a shutting door or the low murmur of a lookout's voice kept you on edge. You ducked behind a stack of barrels as a burly Viking trudged by, his torch blazing, then darted across an open stretch when the coast was clear, sticking to the darker edges where the torchlight didn't reach.

Hiccup's giant house loomed ahead, its slanted roof and cluttered forge annex unmistakable even in the dim. You crept up to the door, glancing over your shoulder one last time—no one in sight, no footsteps trailing you. Adjusting Menace carefully, you rapped your knuckles against the wood, a quick, sharp knock that cut through the stillness.

The sound barely faded before the door creaked open, and Hiccup stood there, blinking at you in the faint glow spilling from inside. He wasn't asleep—his hair was tousled, sure, but his eyes were bright, and he held a half-whittled stick in one hand, a knife in the other, like he'd been fidgeting by the fire sharpening his pencils.

"Hey, what're you—?" he started, but you didn't wait for him to finish.

You brushed past him, Menace still hidden under your cloak, and muttered, "Shut the door," as you stepped into the warmth of his home.

He froze for a second, brow furrowing in confusion, but obeyed, pushing the door closed with a soft thud. "Uh, okay, sure—but what's going on? What're you doing here?" he asked, setting the stick and knife on a nearby table as he turned to you, his voice a mix of curiosity and mild alarm.

You didn't answer right away. Instead, you shifted your cloak aside with a flourish, revealing Menace cradled in your arms. Her yellow eyes cracked open at the movement, glinting in the firelight, and a smear of fish stew still clung to her snout. Hiccup's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a hushed, incredulous whisper.

"No way—is that—? A Terrible Terror? What are doing with it?" He leaned in, hands hovering like he wasn't sure where to start, his astonishment spilling out in a rush. "Where did—? How did—? Is that the one from the arena?"

You grinned, nodding as you adjusted Menace so he could see her better. "Yep. This little Menace snuck in, licked my stew bowl clean before I even noticed her—ate most my stew. Think she's the escapee Gobber was losing his mind over."

Hiccup let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, his gaze flicking between you and the dragon. "Unbelievable. She just happened to choose your house. Guessing it must've been the fish then. That's—wow."

He reached out tentatively, fingers brushing the air near her head. Menace tilted her chin up, eyeing him warily, then flicked her tongue out to lick her stew-smeared jaw, unimpressed.

"Careful, she's quick," you warned, smirking as you shifted her weight.

Hiccup tried again, slower this time, his hand inching closer until he grazed the top of her head. She didn't snap—just huffed a tiny, raspy chirp and leaned into it, her eyes half-closing as that low purr rumbled up again.

Hiccup's face lit up, a grin spreading wide as he whispered, "Oh, she likes that. Look at her—little Menace, huh?" He glanced at you, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Her wing's busted, though—see that bend? We could fix it. Some leather, maybe a light splint. . ."

You nodded, easing down onto a bench by the hearth, Menace still purring in your lap. "Hoped you'd say that. Couldn't just leave her there—and I knew you'd want in on this."

Hiccup crouched beside you, already reaching for a scrap of parchment on the table, his mind clearly racing. "Oh, I'm in. This is—gods, this is incredible. She's so tiny—look at her!"

His hushed whispers bubbled with awe as he scratched gently under her chin, earning another pleased warble from Menace. You couldn't help but laugh softly, the two of you huddled there in the flickering light, plotting over your unexpected new friend like kids with a secret treasure.

Hiding Menace turned into a daily test of stealth and patience, one you hadn't quite bargained for when you'd taken her in. Leaving her in your house wasn't an option—not with Gobber's complete disregard for privacy. The man had a habit of barging in at dawn, bucket of ice water in hand, ready to douse you awake like he'd done since you were old enough to stumble over your own feet.

"Keeps ye sharp!" he'd bellow, grinning as you sputtered and cursed.

So, after a hushed debate by Hiccup's hearth, you and he decided the cove was the safest bet—Toothless's domain, tucked away from prying eyes. You bundled Menace in your cloak again, her little body squirming as you carried her through the village outskirts, Hiccup leading the way with a lantern he invented dimmed low to dodge any late-night lookouts.

The first meeting between Toothless and Menace was. . .tense. Toothless had eyed her with a wary growl, his ears flat as she skittered out of your arms onto the cove's mossy floor. Menace, fearless despite her size, puffed up and hissed right back, her broken wing twitching—her tiny roar fearsome.

You and Hiccup hovered nearby, ready to intervene, but after a few sniffs and a tentative nudge from Toothless's snout, they settled. Soon, they were sprawled out together—though not without Menace trying to swipe Toothless's fish portions every chance she got. Her tiny jaws snapped at his pile, and he'd grumble, nudging her away with a paw until you started bringing extra, piling her own little stash to keep the peace.

"She's a thief," Hiccup laughed one day, tossing her another fish, "but she's our thief."

Days blurred into a rhythm after that—Hiccup running flight tests with Toothless, tweaking the saddle and tail fin while you slipped off to the woods alone, hurling daggers at makeshift targets carved into trees. The blades thunked into the bark with satisfying precision, though you'd never turn them on a dragon—not after Menace, not after Toothless.

You kept up appearances in the arena too, training under Gobber's watchful eye with the others, all to mask the secret growing in the cove. But the final trial loomed closer, the one that'd cut the trainees down to two, and the air in Berk thickened with anticipation for it and excitement for Stoick and the rest of Berk's return.

The day arrived sharp and cold; the arena packed with villagers craning to see the last stand. You stood in the center with Ruffnut and Tuffnut, the three of you ringed by towering wooden walls as Gobber's voice boomed overhead.

"Last trial, ye lot! Two stand, the rest falls—don't muck it up!"

The gate rattled open, and a thick, acrid smoke poured in, curling around your boots as the Hideous Zippleback slithered free. Its two heads hissed in unison—one spitting green gas, the other sparking flame—and the crowd roared as the chaos erupted.

You darted left, shield up, as a jet of fire scorched the area where you'd stood. Ruffnut charged right, howling a battle cry, her mace swinging wild as she aimed for the gas head.

"I've got this ugly one!" she shouted, but the Zippleback was faster—its sparking head whipped around, igniting the gas in a blinding flare.

She dove, rolling under the blast, but came up too close. The gas head lunged, snapping at her heels, and she tripped, sprawling forward with a curse as it stole her boot.

"Ruffnut's out!" Gobber bellowed as a pair of Vikings hauled her off, her protests echoing through the smoke.

It was just you and Tuffnut now, back-to-back as the Zippleback circled, its twin heads weaving through the haze.

"This is awesome!" Tuffnut yelled, grinning like a lunatic as he hefted his spear. "Let's ram it!" He charged, spear-first, aiming for the sparking head, but the gas head reared up, blasting a cloud that choked the air. You coughed, ducking low as sparks flew, and saw the flame head twist toward Tuffnut.

"Move, Tuffnut!" you shouted, sprinting forward. He didn't see it—the fire licked out, a blazing arc as the dragons claws thrashed out, and you threw yourself at him, slamming into his side. You both hit the ground hard, rolling as the flames roared overhead, singeing the edge of your tunic.

Tuffnut blinked up at you, sprawled in the ground, his jaw slack. "You. . .saved me?" he managed, voice cracking with shock.

You shoved off him, grimacing as a sharp sting flared in your arm—the old Nadder scar, reopened, blood seeping through your sleeve where the beast clawed you.

"Don't get used to it," you muttered, clutching the wound as you staggered up. But the Zippleback wasn't done—its heads swung toward you, gas hissing, and you stumbled, vision blurring from the smoke and pain.

"Enough!" Gobber's roar cut through, and the gatekeepers rushed in, chains clanking as they wrangled the dragon back.

"She's out—get her to Gothi!" Hands grabbed you, pulling you from the arena as the crowd murmured, and you gritted your teeth in anger, blood dripping down your arm.

The next thing you knew, you were propped on a bench outside a little way from the arena, Gothi's gnarled hands working fast—smearing a pungent salve over the gash, her staff tapping your shoulder to hold still. Hiccup was there in an instant, shoving through the onlookers, his face pale and pinched with worry.

"Hey—hey, you okay?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside you, his hand finding yours without hesitation.

His fingers curled tight around yours, warm despite the chill, and you felt your cheeks heat even through the sting of Gothi's stitching. "I'm fine, Hiccup," you said, voice rough but steady, though your own flush crept up your neck at how close he was—how he didn't let go.

He blushed too, pink spreading across his freckles, but his grip stayed firm, his thumb brushing your knuckles absently. "You scared me out there," he muttered, eyes darting to your arm as Gothi wrapped it in cloth. "That was—gods, you didn't have to jump in like that."

You smirked, wincing as Gothi tugged the bandage tight. "Had to. Tuffnut's too dumb to save himself."

Hiccup laughed, short and shaky, and squeezed your hand again, his worry melting into something softer as he stayed right there, blushing and steadfast, until Gothi shooed him back with a grunt.

The trials were finally over—at least for you, the arena settling into a tense hush as the dust and smoke long cleared. You stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the other trainees—Snotlout, Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, Astrid, and Hiccup—your arm still throbbing under Gothi's fresh bandages, the ache a dull reminder of the Zippleback—and the Nadders' chaos.

The crowd ringed the edges, their murmurs buzzing like flies as Gobber limped forward, his hammer-hand raised to quiet them. His weathered face split into a grin, his voice booming over the grounds.

"Right, ye scrappy lot—time to name the final two!" He said and wasted no time, "Hiccup and Astrid, ye've earned it. Next challenge: the Nadder. Winner gets the honor o' slayin' the Monstrous Nightmare!"

A roar erupted from the villagers, cheers and stomps shaking the timber walls. Astrid's jaw tightened, her eyes glinting with determination, while Hiccup shifted beside you, his expression a mix of nerves and something unreadable. You nudged him with your good elbow, smiling.

"Told you you'd make it." He shot you a quick, lopsided grin, but before he could reply, the crowd started to disperse, and you both turned to slip away, eager to dodge the inevitable swarm of Hiccups new attention.

You'd barely taken two steps when Tuffnut and Ruffnut loomed into your path, their broad frames blocking the way out. The air went awkward fast—silence stretching as Tuffnut shuffled his feet, staring at the ground like it might swallow him. Ruffnut crossed her arms, smirking faintly, but said nothing.

You and Hiccup exchanged a glance, unsure what was coming, until Tuffnut finally mumbled, "Uh. . .thanks. Y'know, for. . .pushin' me outta the way back there."

He jerked his chin toward your bandaged arm, his voice dropping lower. "Would've got my face slashed. So. . .yeah," He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes, while Ruffnut gave you a quick, sharp nod—her version of approval—before nudging her brother.

"C'mon, dummy," she muttered, and they trudged off, leaving you and Hiccup blinking after them.

You pressed your lips together, a snort threatening to break free as Hiccup's shoulders shook beside you. "Did Tuffnut just. . .thank me?" you whispered, and Hiccup choked out a laugh, covering his mouth. "I think he did. Mark the day."

The two of you stood there, giggling under your breath, the absurdity cutting through the tension. Somehow, you managed to weave through the arena's edge without Hiccup's growing pack of admirers swallowing him whole—Snotlout was busy flexing for a gaggle of kids, and Fishlegs was rambling to anyone who'd listen, giving you a clear shot to the exit.

But before you could get far, Gothi's small, hunched figure stepped into your path, her staff tapping the ground with purpose. Gobber lumbered up behind her, scratching his beard as he translated her flurry of gestures.

"She says ye've gotta rest that arm, lass. No arguin'—or else." Gothi's milky eyes narrowed at you, her gnarled hand jabbing the air for emphasis, and you sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Fine," you muttered, disappointed but too tired to fight it. Hiccup frowned beside you, his brow creasing, but nodded.

"Guess I'll head alone, then. Check on Toothless and Menace." His voice was light when you both were out of sight, but something flickered in his eyes—worry, maybe, or frustration.

You started toward your house, Hiccup falling into step beside you until you reached the shadowed patch near your door. He stopped suddenly, his frown deepening, and before you could ask what was wrong, he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you hard, his face burying into your shoulder as his breath hitched against your tunic.

"You've gotta be more careful," he mumbled, his voice low and rough, edged with an anger that caught you off guard. "I mean it—stop throwing yourself into stuff like that." He squeezed you tighter, hiding his face, and you felt your own cheeks flush, your hands hovering before settling awkwardly on his back.

"Hiccup, I'm—" you started, but he pulled away just as fast, stepping back with his head ducked low. You caught a glimpse of red creeping up his ears before he turned, muttering a quick, "See you later," and bolted off toward the woods, his lanky frame disappearing into the dusk.

You stood there, heart thumping, a slow grin tugging at your lips as you shook your head and pushed your door open. The house was quiet, the new pot of stew still simmering faintly, and you sank onto a stool, replaying that hug—his sudden, fierce worry, the way he'd hidden his blush—with a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the hearth.

That same day turn night, the village hushed under a blanket of stars and the occasional creak of settling timber. You were half-dozing by the hearth, the embers casting a faint glow across the room, when a sharp knock jolted you upright. It came from the back door—and at this point you knew it was Hiccup since this became a ritual between you both now.

His knock anyways was quick, insistent, not the casual rap of a neighbor. You crept over, peering through the opened door. Your heart lurched as Hiccup's familiar silhouette filled the gap, but then your eyes widened—Toothless loomed behind him, his massive black shape barely squeezed into the narrow alley, eyes glinting in the dark.

You yanked the door open, hissing, "Hiccup, what the hell? Why'd you bring him?"

Your voice was a harsh whisper, darting a glance around to make sure no one was lurking. Hiccup stumbled in, Toothless nudging past the frame with a low grumble, his tail flicking dangerously close to your stew pot as he could barely fit in the home.

"I didn't have a choice!" Hiccup shot back, equally quiet but flustered, his hands flailing as he pointed to the saddle strapped across Toothless's back. "Look—the hook's jammed. I can't get it off without a tool, and I couldn't just leave him in the cove like this!"

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shut the door behind them, careful not to let it slam. "Great. So you thought dragging a dragon through the village at midnight was the smart move? He can't stay in my house."

He scowled, crossing his arms. "Oh, like you'd have a better plan. I tried prying it loose—nearly took my finger off!" Toothless huffed, shifting impatiently, and you waved a hand at him.

"Fine, fine—forge it is. Try to keep him quiet." Hiccup nodded, grabbing the rope that bind him to the dragon in the first place as you led the way out the back, the three of you slipping into the shadows toward the forge.

Your house sits mere steps from the forge, its squat frame dwarfed by the sprawling workshop where you and Hiccup now steer—a space that offers the Night Fury more room to stretch, though its open sprawl conceals him far less than the tight walls of your home ever could.

You slip inside, the air sharp with the tang of wood dust, and it's only as you cross the threshold that Toothless spots a battered bucket perched beside tools, its dull gleam promising fish. He lunges, snatching it on his snout before hurling it aside—it strikes the dirt floor and into tools with a jarring clang that echoes off the rafters, splintering the quiet.

You stiffen, breath catching, as Hiccup's eyes flare wide; he grabs the dragon's head, pulling it low with a sharp tug. "Toothless!" he snaps under his breath, voice a strained rasp, but the damage is done—sound hangs heavy in the air, a signal neither of you can call back but Hiccup makes quick on his actions to try and pry the metal apart on the rope anyways.

"Hiccup? Are you in there?" Astrid's voice cut through the night, sharp and suspicious, her boots crunching closer from the shadows.

You cursed under your breath, holding Toothless as still as possible as Hiccup panicked. Before you could stop him—or even think—he bolted for the window-door, slamming it shut behind him to block Astrid's view, leaving you and Toothless crouched in the dark.

"Astrid! Hey! Hi, Astrid. Hi! Astrid! Hi—Astrid," he stammered, his voice pitching higher with every word as he leaned against the frame, trying to look casual.

You rolled your eyes, pressing a hand to Toothless's snout as he rumbled, but the dragon stilled, sensing the tension, his big eyes blinking at you obediently before he peered around to spot a sheep.

"Idiot—you should've let me talk," you muttered, facepalming as you peeked through a crack in the wall.

Outside, Astrid stood with her arms crossed, staring at Hiccup like he'd grown a second head.

"I normally don't care what people do, but you're acting weird," she said, her tone flat but her eyes narrowing.

Toothless shifted beside you, tugging the jammed strap, and Hiccup jolted backward with a loud "OH!" as the hook yanked him off-balance. Astrid's brow furrowed deeper.

"Well. . .weirder," she added, studying him like he was some village dork about to confess a prank.

Hiccup flashed a strained grin, hands clasped tight around his frame as Toothless tugged again—and again—each pull jerking him harder—higher. You held your breath, keeping Toothless's head low, until the dragon gave one final, impatient yank. The strap snapped free, and Hiccup flew backward into the forge, the doors banging shut as he crashed into a pile of scrap metal with a muffled yelp.

He and Toothless immediately hopped out of there and out of sight as you winced, scrambling to your feet. Outside, Astrid blinked, then marched forward, ripping the wooden panel windows wide open. You stood there, caught mid-step, and waved awkwardly as her sharp gaze landed on you.

"Hey. . .What's up? Astrid," you said, forcing a grin.

She didn't smile back, her hands on her hips. "Where'd he go? Did you just yank him up?" she demanded, glancing around the forge's shadowed corners.

You scrambled, the lie tumbling out fast. "Did I?—Yes. Sometimes when he—just pisses me off I. . .Just have to give him a mighty wedgie! Ya'know? What can I say?" You shrugged, leaning casually against the workbench like it was no big deal, even as your pulse hammered.

Astrid raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Where is he?"

You waved a hand vaguely toward the back. "Went off holding his backside. Probably sulking somewhere. Mayhaps. . ." You answer, just as you witnessed the dragon, and his boy fly off right in front of you across the yard.

She stared at you a beat longer, then huffed. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?" she asked, nodding at your bandaged arm.

You grinned wider, deflecting. "Oh, you know me—can't sit still. Just. . .checking on some tools."

She rolled her eyes, muttering something about "weirdos" under her breath, then turned on her heel and stalked off into the night. You let out a shaky breath, slumping against the bench. Trying your best to calm your heart.

The next day the cove was quiet that afternoon, the air thick with the scent of pine and dirt as you and Hiccup lingered by the rocks. Berk buzzed with life beyond the trees—the rest of the village had returned from their hundredth attempt at finding the dragons nest unsuccessfully—but Hiccup's shoulders had tensed at the thought of facing them.

Especially his father. You caught the way his jaw had tightened, his fingers fidgeting with his journal back in Berk, and before he even said it, you knew what was coming.

"Hey," he murmured, glancing at you with those green eyes, half-pleading, half-mischievous. "Wanna sneak off with me? Just. . .avoid all that for a bit?"

You nodded your head in agreement. You couldn't say no—not to that look, not to the chance to dodge the chaos of Berk together. So you did. Slipping through the woods, you kept to the shadows until you reached the cove's edge.

The afternoon sun slanting through the trees and painting the mossy rocks in warm gold. Toothless sprawled nearby, gnawing lazily on a fish while Menace perched on a boulder, her good wing fluttering as she watched him with greedy eyes even though she had three large ones at her side.

You leaned against a rock, arms crossed, as you had brought up what ypu said to Astrid—to try to get his mind off of his dad. Grinning as Hiccup paced in front of you, now stewing over last night's fiasco.

"A wedgie?" he asked, his face flushing red with embarrassment as he shot you a look, half-exasperated, half-amused.

"That was the best excuse you could come up with in front of her?" He sighed, brushing imaginary scrap off his tunic like he could still feel the forge's chaos clinging to him.

You smirked, nudging Toothless as the dragon warbled softly, lifting his head to nuzzle your leg. "Worked, didn't it? You're welcome," you said, your tone smug as you tilted your head at him.

"Astrid bought it—or at least didn't care enough to keep poking. I'd call that a win."

Hiccup groaned, dragging a hand down his face, but a laugh slipped out despite himself, bright and unguarded. "Yeah, a win where I look like a total dork who can't walk straight," he muttered, though his grin betrayed how little he actually minded.

He shook his head, the embarrassment fading as he turned to Toothless, who'd finished his fish and was now stretching his wings with an eager rumble. "Alright, enough about my imaginary backside trauma," Hiccup said, clapping his hands together. "We've got bigger things today."

He swung a leg over Toothless's saddle, settling into place as he checked the straps—newly fixed after last night's jam. "Biggest flight test yet. New tail fin angle, tighter turns—gonna see how far we can push it." His eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of nerves and excitement, his hands already adjusting the reins.

You stepped closer, resting a hand on Toothless's flank as the dragon huffed, ready to go. "You sure it's all set? What if it goes wrong?" your voice softened as you watched him double-check the gear. "I mean—what if your backside can't handle it and you fall off?"

He shot you a mock glare over his shoulder. "Very funny. Yes, it's set—thanks to you not wedgie-ing me into next week."

You laughed, stepping back as Toothless shifted, his wings flexing in anticipation. "Go knock the sky out, then. I'll keep Menace from staging a fish heist down here."

And before he could leave you place a hand on his, "Be careful Hiccup. Please,"

Hiccup nodded, his smile widening as he clicked his tongue. "Hold on tight, bud," he murmured, and Toothless launched upward with a powerful beat of his wings, kicking up a gust that ruffled your hair.

You shielded your eyes, watching as they soared higher, Hiccup leaning into the wind as Toothless banked sharply, testing the new rig. Their silhouettes shrank against the vast blue, disappearing and you couldn't help the swell of pride in your chest—mixed with a little ache, knowing he was heading into something big, something you couldn't follow. For now, though, you turned back to Menace, who chirped indignantly at Toothless's empty fish pile, and you tossed her a spare chunk with a laugh, settling in to wait.

When he returned, the sun was dipping rather low, casting long shadows across the cove. Toothless landed with a triumphant thud, his tongue lolling out like a pleased pup, and Hiccup slid off the saddle, grinning wider than you'd seen in days. They both radiated a quiet, buzzing joy, but you squinted as he stepped closer—his hair was a mess, singed at the edges, and faint smudges of soot streaked his face and tunic.

"Do. . .I want to know what happened?" you asked, arching a brow as you crossed your arms.

Hiccup chuckled, shaking his head as he brushed a hand through his charred bangs, dislodging a few blackened strands. "Lost my cheat-sheet," he said, his tone light but edged with a sheepish pride.

You blinked, startled. "What?! Oh no, now you're going to have to redo it all?"

He waved a hand, still grinning as he leaned against Toothless, who huffed a warm breath. "Nope. Toothless and I no longer need it. We mastered it all—every turn, every dive. Just us now."

You stared, caught between disbelief and awe. "Wait, seriously? You just. . .figured it out up there? No notes, no nothing?"

He nodded, his smile turning smug as he patted Toothless's snout. "Yep. Took a few close calls—but we mastered it and got too excited—hence the, uh, singeing—but we've got it down. Perfect sync. Had to take a break after though, eat some grub. Met a few Terrors along the way."

Toothless crooned, nuzzling Hiccup's hand, and you laughed, shaking your head. "You're insane, you know that? Both of you."

"Maybe," Hiccup said, his eyes glinting as he glanced at Toothless.

The dragon's ears perked, and they exchanged a look—a quick, knowing flicker that you almost missed. "But it's worth it. Flying like that. . .It's freedom. Nothing else comes close."

You opened your mouth to reply, distracted by the way he lit up talking about it, when Toothless shifted behind you. You didn't notice at first—Hiccup kept talking, his voice animated. "We hit this one gust, right? Thought it'd throw us off, but Toothless adjusted mid-air, and—"

Before you could process it, Toothless swooped low, his sleek body sliding under you in one fluid motion. Your feet left the ground, and suddenly you were perched on the saddle—your first time ever on Toothless, or any dragon. You froze, hands flailing as you registered the warm scales beneath you, the faint creak of the leather.

"Hiccup, what—?!" you yelped, but he was already there, swinging up behind you in a heartbeat. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight against him so you couldn't squirm free, and your face flared red, heat rushing to your cheeks as his chest pressed to your back.

"Since we mastered it," he teased, his voice low and warm right by your ear, "we think it's time you finally get to know what it's like to fly."

You twisted to glare at him, "Barely!" but he couldn't see your blush—not with how he held you, his chin tucked over your shoulder. "Hiccup, no!" you protested, gripping the saddle's edged grip he made as panic spiked through you.

Too late. Toothless launched into the air with a powerful beat of his wings, the ground dropping away as you screamed—a sharp, startled sound that ripped through the cove. Hiccup's laugh rang out behind you, bright and unrestrained, while Toothless soared higher, his tongue flapping out like a gleeful dog's.

The wind roared past, tugging at your hair, your tunic, your everything, and you clung to the saddle, heart hammering as the world tilted wildly below. Hiccup's arms tightened around you, steadying you, and despite your protests, a shaky laugh bubbled up, caught somewhere between terror and exhilaration.

"You're dead for this!" you shouted over the rush, but his answering grin—unseen but felt—told you he knew you didn't mean it.

The initial shock of Toothless's takeoff faded into a wild, rushing blur as the dragon climbed higher above the clouds, his wings slicing through the air with a steady, powerful rhythm. Your scream tapered off, dissolving into a breathless gasp as you gripped the saddle's hand grip, knuckles white against the leather.

Hiccup's arms stayed locked around your waist, his hold firm but gentle, anchoring you against the dizzying ascent. His chest pressed warm and solid against your back, and though your face still burned red from the sudden closeness, you couldn't turn to see his expression—not that you'd dare with the world spinning below you.

The wind whipped past, as they took you, tugging at your hair and stinging your eyes, but Hiccup's voice cut through it, low and teasing near your ear. "See? Not so bad, right?"

You wanted to snap something back—some sharp retort about how you'd strangle him later—but the words caught in your throat as Toothless leveled out, gliding smoothly into the open sky. The cove shrank to a speck beneath you, Berk's jagged cliffs blurring into the horizon as the sun dipped low, spilling molten rose gold across the sea.

You felt Hiccup's breath hitch slightly, his grip tightening just a fraction, and then he went quiet—no more teasing, no more quips. Just the two of you, wrapped in the vast silence of the sky, the only sounds the soft whoosh of Toothless's wings and the distant crash of waves far below.

He guided Toothless higher still, the dragon's sleek body weaving through wisps of cloud that brushed cool and damp against your skin. You reached out instinctively, fingers grazing the mist, and a small, awed laugh escaped you as the clouds parted around your hand like smoke. Hiccup's arms shifted, one hand reaching to touch the clouds with you and the other sliding down to rest over yours on the saddle, his calloused fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a shiver up your spine—though you blamed it on the altitude.

"Told you it's like nothing else," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent, as if he didn't want to break the spell of the moment. You nodded, too caught up to speak, your eyes fixed on the endless stretch of sky ahead.

The sun sank lower, its last rays igniting the clouds in a blaze of pink and orange, and then it slipped away entirely, leaving the world bathed in the deep indigo of twilight. Toothless tilted upward, climbing until you broke through the final layer of clouds, and there it was—the aurora.

Ribbons of green and violet shimmered across the night sky, curling and dancing like living light, their glow reflecting faintly in Toothless's wide eyes. Your breath caught, and you felt Hiccup's chin rest lightly on your shoulder, his warmth seeping through your tunic as he took it in too.

"Hiccup. . ." you whispered, barely audible, and he hummed in quiet agreement, his voice a low rumble against your back.

Neither of you spoke for a long stretch, the silence between you heavy but not awkward—something deeper, something unspoken weaving itself into the space. His hand stayed over yours, thumb brushing absently against your knuckles, and his other arm tightened around your waist as Toothless dipped slightly, skimming the edge of a cloud.

The sudden drop made your stomach lurch, and you yelped, clutching the saddle harder. Hiccup laughed softly, his breath warm against your neck, and you felt his heartbeat quicken against your spine—or maybe it was yours, thudding loud in your ears.

"Got you," he said, his tone gentle, steadying, and you relaxed into him despite yourself, the fear melting into a strange, quiet trust.

Up here, with the aurora painting the sky and the clouds drifting like a sea of light below, it was just you and him—no Berk, no trials, no expectations. Toothless banked gently, his wings catching the wind as he soared along the aurora's edge, and Hiccup's hold never wavered.

His cheek brushed yours briefly as he leaned forward to adjust the reins, and your face flared again, though the darkness hid it. You wondered if he felt it too—this stillness, this closeness—but he didn't say anything, just kept you tucked against him as the night deepened around you.

For Hiccup, something shifted in that quiet. His heart skipped, a sharp, sudden jolt as Toothless swooped low again, the drop tugging at his chest. He chalked it up to the thrill—the rush of the dive, the way the wind roared past—but it lingered, warm and unfamiliar, as he pressed himself closer to you.

He didn’t recognize it for what it was, not yet—didn’t connect the way his pulse raced to the feel of you in his arms, the soft sound of your laugh still echoing in his mind. He just knew he didn’t want to let go, not yet, not when the sky felt infinite, and you were right there with him.

Toothless eventually descended, the flight easing into a slow glide as he circled back toward the cove. The aurora still shimmered faintly above as you touched down but not nearly as magnificent from being so close moments ago. Hiccup finally loosened his hold. He slid off first, offering you a hand with a grin—less teasing now, more genuine, his eyes bright in the dim light. You took it, your legs shaky as you dismounted, the grass cool and damp beneath your boots and for a second, your fingers lingered in his, neither of you pulling away.

“So. . .worth it?” he asked, his voice quiet but hopeful, like he needed to hear it.

You laughed, breathless, brushing hair from your face as you nodded. “Yeah. Definitely worth it.”

Toothless flopped down nearby, rolling onto his back with a contented warble, and you both turned to him, breaking the moment with soft chuckles.

“Guess we’re not the only ones who had fun,” you said, and Hiccup smiled, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“Told you he’s a show-off.” The night settled around you, calm and good, the memory of the flight—of that quiet, unspoken closeness—tucked away like a secret neither of you was ready to name, but both of you felt all the same.

This is Chapter 6 to this Hiccup series -> Masterlist here. Previous Chapter : Next Chapter

Gifs/edits, dividers + template credit to #uservampyr my co-writer + beta reader ♡

Lovely tag list ~ @kikikittykis

#chapter 6 of maelstrom #hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup #hiccup and toothless #hiccup how to train your dragon #hiccup x reader #hiccup fanfic #httyd fanfic #httyd x reader #toothless #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup haddock x reader #dragons #race to the edge #maelstrom #rtte

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