Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Berk is silent behind him. 

In twenty-one years, Hiccup has never heard silence from his people. Even before the dragons, the island of Berk was noisy. There was always someone screaming, another growling, someone snarling, all with the clang of metal and raucous laughter interspersed throughout. 

But now, standing as he is at the cliff edge, he hears… nothing. There’s no laughter. No cheering as there had been five minutes ago. Not even the sniffles and soft sobs he knows are happening reach his ears. 

No, all Hiccup can hear now, with his eyes trained on the horizon, is the wind. High winds that buffet his face and whip his hair against his cheeks, high winds that he'll never soar through again, high winds that carry their dragons far far away, turning them into nothing more than specks in the sky. 

The setting sun burns his eyes, lengthening his shadow, and yet, Hiccup watches the skies. He knows he should turn around to address his people, address the loss that all of them now share… but he needs a moment. Just one moment to be selfish. One moment to let the tears track its way over his cheeks. One moment to breathe through the sob that threatens to rip itself out of his throat if he attempts to speak. 

There’s movement behind him, and Hiccup recognizes Astrid’s soft tread easily, feels the air shift as she reaches out to gently grasp his shoulder. 

“Hiccup.” Just his name. No apologies, no platitudes, not even a stirring speech to perk him up. Only his name, spoken softly and only for his ears. 

It’s enough to have him suck in a deep breath, raising his own hand to wipe hurriedly at his face.  He can do this. He's their chieftain, the man who will lead Berk into a new age. He will lead them into their new existence without the dragons. If nothing else, he will be strong for them.  

Reaching up to squeeze Astrid’s hand on his shoulder, Hiccup turns slowly to face his people, and feels his heart break all over again. Their eyes are still on the skies, in the fleeting hope that maybe, one of the dragons will come back. But Hiccup knows none of them will ever return. The alpha called them after all. 

Exhaling roughly through his nose, he wills his voice to be strong, to carry over the wind. “There's a lot to be done now. We have to learn how to live without them and we can. We lived once without dragons and we can do it again.” 

There are a few murmurs of agreement but Hiccup can see that their heart is not in it. He can't blame them. His own heart aches when he realizes all that he can never do with… Toothless (even thinking the name hurts). 

There's no point in holding onto broken dreams now. Hiccup wasn't lying when he said there was a lot to be done. Berkians were nothing if not capable but even they would need time to relearn how to live without dragons. 

But not today. As he looks over at his people, Hiccup knows he can't ask them for much today. He's already asked them to make one sacrifice. 

“We rest today. Leave the saddles up here for now; we’ll figure out what to do with them tomorrow.” 

“What happens tomorrow?” Hiccup doesn't think he's ever heard Snotlout speak that softly to him and he doesn't think he ever will again. 

They're all looking to him for an answer, an answer that Hiccup isn't sure is the right one. But it's all he has for now. “Tomorrow… tomorrow we begin again.” 

Because they have to. 

Ooo

Supper is a quiet affair in the great hall, subdued in a way he has never heard it, even after the worst of the dragon raids. Many of the villagers leave quickly, no doubt wanting the comfort of their family as they mourn the loss of their dragons. 

From his group, Eret is the first one to disappear, followed by Snoutlout. Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut walk out as a pack, their faces the most somber Hiccup has ever seen. Gobber is the one who gently leads Valka out; his mother looks as heartbroken as the day his father died and Hiccup can understand why. To say goodbye to someone you've known and loved for twenty years is a difficult thing to do. 

They all leave one by one, until it's just him, Astrid and a few stragglers in the hall. Astrid’s meal has barely been touched, but she sits by him still, their elbows brushing against each other. 

Hiccup wants nothing more than to curl into her warmth, to have her strong arms wrap around him, her scent of grass and sharp metal lulling him to sleep. But something has him rising up from the table, an urgency that won’t let him rest just yet. So, he catches Astrid's hand in his own and squeezes, leaning down to press a kiss against her hair. 

“You should get some sleep.”

“What about you?” 

“I… there's some things I have to take care of. There's too much to be done.” 

She opens her mouth to say something but Hiccup leaves her before she can. 

Walking through the village feels like walking through a ghost town; nothing moves. The fires burn and their livestock bray at the moon but… it's not the same. Nothing will ever be the same. 

Hiccup walks until he gets to his workshop, his table still strewn with blueprints for saddles, new prototypes for tail fins and prosthetic legs. Blueprints he's no longer going to need. 

The fire in the hearth burns brighter as Hiccup feeds it scroll after scroll. A pail over the fire pit melts down rigging for prototype tail fins. In another bucket he plans to dump into the abyss of the sea, Hiccup collects leftover dragon scales, black and shiny, each one a needle pierce to his heart. 

He doesn't destroy everything though. He doesn't want to destroy every trace of Toothless. His sketches stay safe, along with a few scales that he places within the pages. He'll have to speak to Fishlegs about all their books and scrolls; which ones could they keep and which should be destroyed. Their dragon suits- the gliders could come in handy but the thought of flying right now makes him sick. It had been one of the first things he’d taken off; they all had, now that Hiccup thinks about it. Everyone had been in their tunics and furs during supper. 

Speaking of furs, they’re going to have to stock up for the winter. Without dragons to help them forage and keep warm, they’d have to begin preparations much earlier. The leather from the saddles could be repurposed for new garments. They'd have to build more ships to start trade routes too and new- 

“Hiccup?” 

Astrid’s voice cuts through the myriad of thoughts and Hiccup feels himself freeze mid-step, wincing as his leg protests at the sudden tension. 

“Astrid? What's wrong?” 

“I… I came to check on you. I couldn't sleep. I thought you'd be in your hut but then I saw the fires. What're you doing?” 

Trying to pretend my best friend hasn’t left me forever. Trying to remember that I did a good thing. Trying to understand how in Odin’s name I’m supposed to continue on with my life with this gaping void in my chest. Any of those answers would open a can of worms Hiccup isn’t ready to deal with yet, so he simply keeps his eyes on the flickering flames and feeds it another scroll.

Astrid, of course, never liked being ignored. He can hear her stepping closer to him, her boots sinking into the dirt. “Hiccup, you need to–” 

“I know I need to sleep, Astrid, but I can’t. There’s too much to be done, too many people counting on me! I’m the chief, I have to–” 

“You have to grieve him, Hiccup. It’s okay to miss him.” There’s something painfully pitying in Astrid's voice and Hiccup’s not sure he likes it. He keeps his back turned to her, watches iron melt and bubble away. “I miss him too. I miss Storm- them all. You can grieve their loss.” 

He wants to, Odin above, he wants to. But he can't. Because if he grieves then who will stay strong for Berk? Who will lead his people? How will his people learn to depend on him if he breaks down crying?

Hiccup shakes his head. “There's no point in grieving. Grieving won't bring him- them back. The people need me to be strong. They need me to lead them. They need–”

There's a touch against the back of his hand, gentle and calm in a way that threatens to break his fragile grip on solemnity. “They need to know that you feel the same as them,” Astrid says softly. Her touch turns firmer as she tugs Hiccup gently away from the hearth, forcing him to face her. 

“The people-” 

“The people will still be here tomorrow. Tomorrow, we’ll begin again. We’ll relearn how to live. Tomorrow, we’ll come back stronger. Tomorrow, you can be chief of Berk. Today…” Astrid's palm is warm as it cups his cheek, swiping away a tear Hiccup didn't know he was shedding. “Today, be Hiccup. Be the boy who lost his best friend. It's okay, Hiccup. You can grieve for him.” 

All at once, it is painfully clear to him that that one moment of weakness was not enough. Because when it hits: the grief, the anger, the loss, the fear… nothing can stop Hiccup as his knees give out under him, a sob ripping its way out of his throat. 

Astrid is there, her arms like steel bands as they catch Hiccup. She doesn't falter or stumble as she takes the bulk of his weight, lowering them to the ground gently, and her warmth surrounds him as he sobs into her shoulder. 

But even she is not infallible. There are tears that splash against the skin of his neck, tears that are not his, and Hiccup squeezes Astrid tighter against him. 

There should be words he says to comfort her, words that Astrid could say to comfort him… but somehow Hiccup knows none of them would ring true. Words wouldn't be enough for a long time, not while the ache of losing their family was still this fresh. 

They sit there for a long while, until the tears dry tacky on their cheeks and their legs have gone numb. Astrid has maneuvered them against a tree, her back against the rough bark and he propped up against her chest. His heaving sobs stopped a while back and now they just lay in the dark, the fires from the pit having burned down to barely there embers.

“Do you…” Hiccup starts out, but his voice is raspy and he has to clear his throat a few times before he can properly talk. “Do you think they’ll ever come back?” 

Behind him, Astrid shifts, her fingers entangling with his own, her cheek against his temple. “I don't know. I… don't think they will.” 

There’s a beat of silence before she says, “I don’t know if I want them too.” 

Hiccup jerks against her, a protest ready on his lips. But then he stills himself. 

Because Astrid has a point. 

As much as he hates it, as much as it hurts… he doesn’t think he wants the dragons to return either. Not unless it was safe for them to do so. And the terrible truth was: Hiccup would never know if and when that time would ever come. 

Astrid seems to understand because she squeezes his hand tighter. “I’m sorry, Hiccup.” 

“No… no, don’t apologize. You’re right. Until the day the dragons are safe… they can’t return. They shouldn’t.”

Behind him, Astrid exhales softly, her body shivering slightly. Hiccup moves to get up. “We should head back inside. You’re cold.” 

But she shakes her head, tugging on their combined hands to bring Hiccup against her side now. She rests her head against his shoulder, her hair falling in golden waves against his chest. “Not yet. Just… just stay with me for a little bit.” 

Hiccup should object; it’s getting colder now, his fingers feel frozen, and Astrid is far too cool against him. Not to mention the late hour; he has to rest so that he can be prepared to meet with the village tomorrow, there is so much to be done now, so much that they will have to struggle to do…

But he says nothing. 

Because today, he is just Hiccup and she is just Astrid, and they are two people mourning and grieving the loss of their best friends.

Tomorrow, they can be responsible. Tomorrow, they can be the shoulder that Berk can cry on.

But today? Today, Hiccup simply shifts so that his arm is around Astrid, providing some measure of body warmth against the cold, and in the silence that envelops them, he lets himself become that twelve year old boy yet again, feeling lost and lonely once more. 

Ooo

Something wakes him up. 

For a moment, Hiccup feels disoriented, his old eyes struggling to make sense of the shapes in the dark, his ears straining to hear whatever drew him from sleep. 

But there is nothing amiss. The distorted shape before him sharpens into the dresser Fishlegs had carved and presented to them as a wedding gift, and the only sounds that reach his ears are the rush of waves from the sea and the soft whisper of breath as Astrid continues to slumber next to him. 

Hiccup turns his head to her and feels a smile tug at his lips. She still looks as beautiful as the day he first met her. Age lines have carved their way into her face, and her once golden tresses have darkened down to grey, but time has not waned her stubbornness and pride. She’s been a blessing to him all these years; his pillar of strength as they rebuilt their village, his counsel when the struggles of being chief became too much for him, and his comfort when old age had finally taken Valka and Gobber. 

Reaching out slowly, Hiccup trails a finger over a lock of hair that’s fallen across her cheek, gently tucking it behind her ear. Still in sleep, Astrid sniffs, curling closer to him, her clenched fist opening out to seek out his warmth. Hiccup tangles their fingers together and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles.

He doesn’t think he could fall asleep again tonight so he pats her hand and places it back on the fur pallets. It’s a struggle to push himself upright; his bones feel far too brittle and weak, but he manages it without too much noise. His prosthetic is there, ready and waiting on the side, and Hiccup locks it into place with a soft snick. Just before he heaves himself off the pallet though, he turns back to Astrid. 

Something in his heart has him leaning down again to press a kiss against her forehead, another against her cheek, and a final one on her lips. Soft and chaste, they barely disturb Astrid, but she must sense him because her head turns just a little, their cheeks pressed together for a moment. 

“I love you,” he whispers against her skin. He doesn’t understand why it sounds so final. 

Hiccup pulls away with a final kiss to her nose, and then hauls himself upright off the furs. His bones ache with every step as he walks past the pallet and the large fireplace, still glowing with dying embers. Winter hasn’t set upon them yet but the season is turning and for the sake of Astrid’s comfort, Hiccup adds a few more logs into the hearth, coaxing the coals into a steady blaze. 

Satisfied, he wraps a fur cloak around himself and finally lets himself out onto the balcony, the only request he’d had for their home… because it was the only way he could now touch the clouds. 

With their house being built at the highest point of the island and the balcony wrapped around a large portion of their top floor, Hiccup can see not only the roiling waves on his left, but also New Berk spread out on his right.

Fire-lit scones mark the path from his home all the way to the Great Hall, where his daughter now reigns as chief. Zephyr had taken to the role far more easily than Hiccup ever had, but he still sees himself in her with every new contraption she comes up with. Nuffink still spends his time as her tester but also as her advisor, and together, they have led New Berk to a time of peace and prosperity, carrying on their parents legacy. 

It never fails to make Hiccup proud; seeing his children honor not only him and Astrid as they strive to be open-minded, but also Stoick and Valka in how they adhere to tradition. His father would have been overjo–

There’s no noise, no indication of what has changed. But Hiccup feels it anyway. 

A shift in the air, the same prickling sensation that had him rise from sleep. Something that has him looking away from his village and out to the dark sea. His eyes strain against the darkness, the waning moon hidden behind gloomy clouds. What he’s looking for, Odin only knows. 

And then something catches his eye. A shimmer within the clouds, splitting the air into two. Something that’s there for a second and gone the next, disappearing into the waves. 

Hiccup frowns, rubbing at his eyes. Was he imagining things? Had he finally gone senile, the way Astrid often teased that he would? Perhaps he had. 

Perhaps he should go back to sleep, Hiccup decides, turning away from the never ending ocean and stepping towards his room. He needs to stop wandering around in the cold, and do the sensible thing of going back to his warm bed and his loving wi–

The gust of wind that hits his back shouldn’t have been a surprise - being so high up meant that wind was always blowing at his clothes. But the huff of warm air that tickles his neck, bringing with it the scent of fish… it has Hiccup’s heart going into overdrive. 

It couldn’t be… it just couldn’t, he tells himself, hardly daring to hope as he slowly turns back, heart hammering in his chest and hope burning in his lungs. 

But it is.

The laughing sob that’s wrenched from his throat is lost to the wind as Hiccup hurls himself forward. Unfortunately, he's forgotten that he's not twenty five anymore, and his limbs do not quite appreciate being moved before they’re ready to. His knee gives out, sending him straight to the floor. 

He doesn’t fall, of course. His best friend would never let that happen. 

Even in his old age, Toothless is as agile as ever and his scaly head breaks Hiccup’s fault easily. Hiccup holds onto him tightly, not out of fear of another fall, but because for a terrible moment, he's not sure if he's dreaming. 

He's not. Toothless is warm, alive and real beneath his fingertips. His dragon rumbles, a soft grumbling sound that reverberates right through Hiccup’s bones in the best way possible. 

“You’re here. You came back! You came ho—“ 

He cuts himself off. No, New Berk isn't their home anymore. The Hidden World with all its wonders and its mysteries is where Toothless belongs. 

And yet… Toothless nuzzles at him, his shiny big green eyes completing what Hiccup could not. Home. I am home.

When they collapse onto the ground together, Hiccup barely feels the cold seep into his garments. How can he, when for the first time in seventy four years he is finally warm ? He sits cross-legged, and his joints protest but Hiccup doesn’t even feel the pain. He just shifts so that Toothless’ head can lay its weight onto his lap. 

His dragon looks at him, head cocked before he leans forward to lightly lick at Hiccup’s face. Not enough for that ever sticky saliva to coat him, but enough that Hiccup realizes he’s been crying. 

Tears of joy, of course… but if Hiccup is being honest, he knows part of it is because his heart is about to break all over again. 

He doesn't know why Toothless is here, but him being here means he also has to go back . Which means leaving Hiccup behind once more. 

It sends a frisson of anger through his gut. Why return if all his dragon was going to do was leave again? Why subject themselves to the ache of losing each other for a third time? Why?

Yet, in the midst of those questions, in the midst of the anger, there's happiness that overwhelms that anger. Because even if Toothless has to leave, he’d still come back . However long they stayed away from each other, Toothless would come back for him one day.

And that would always be the greatest gift Hiccup could ever receive. 

“Thanks for coming back, buddy. I’ve missed you,” he whispers, chuckling as Toothless nudges at him with a rumble. “You wouldn’t believe how life has been since we last met.”

Hiccup talks, spilling every detail Toothless has missed. He talks about the loss of his mother and his mentor, about all improvements on the island, about his daughter and son, about how he misses Eret and Tuffnut who have gone to Valhalla, and how he still visits Fishlegs, Snoutlout, and Ruffnut whenever he can. 

In return, he learns about Toothless. His best friend is older now, of course; there’s a few more of the floppy spines that grow under his dragon’s chin. Those beautiful black scales of his are still shiny, but they’re tinged with grey in certain places. It’s not just his color though. Hiccup can count a few scars, remnants of battles his dragon must have fought. Toothless had definitely won, no doubt about that, but he hadn’t won unscathed. There's a terrible scar that marks the back of his dragon’s right hind leg, jagged as it cuts through the scales, and an uneven bite mark that’s left indents in his neck. 

Running his hand over yet another scar, Hiccup sighs. “We’ve changed a lot, haven’t we, buddy?” 

Dozing against him, Toothless rumbles again, shifting so his head digs just a little more into Hiccup’s lap. It should hurt, and it does, but Hiccup simply lets him move until he’s settled and then resumes his petting. 

And they sit like that, dragon and human, silent and lost in thought, the wind and sea battling with each against the cliff edge. 

Hiccup’s not entirely sure how long they end up sitting there but he knows it’s not enough time. Because when Toothless moves, his head lifting with a soft coo, ears twitching as he looks out to the dark sea, panic seizes Hiccup’s heart, his hand clenching into a fist before he forces himself to relax with an exhale. 

This has to happen. He knew that it was to happen. The dragons have to remain in hiding for their own safety. He’s been granted a gift - a single night to be with his best friend - Hiccup knows he has no right to ask for more. 

Yet the selfish thought remains, battling with the growing ache of loss in his chest.

He runs a hand over the scaly head, fingertips trying to memorize the bumpy texture. “Yeah… yeah, I know buddy. It’s time.” 

Toothless warbles at him and gets to his feet. The cold that seizes Hiccup is not a welcome sensation, and he shivers, gnarled fingers tugging at the sleeves of his tunic. He’d forgotten just how warm dragons could run, he realizes with a sad sort of smile. What else will he forget about them? 

Still close enough to touch, Toothless gives his whole body a little shake; a shudder that runs from his head and all the way down the spines of his tail. Then he turns just as Hiccup is wondering how in Thor’s name he’s supposed to get upright. Toothless is there, pushing his head under Hiccup’s arms and gently propelling him upwards. Hiccup still stumbles, legs having gone numb after sitting for so long but Toothless is right by his side, offering his steady presence. 

They turn as one to the open cliff edge, Hiccup’s one hand trembling where it lays on Toothless’ head. After a few moments, he knows he can’t delay the inevitable, and with a breath that feels like it’s ripping him in two, Hiccup steps away from his best friend for the third time in his life. 

Toothless turns to look at him, head cocked, and Hiccup forces himself to smile. “Go on, bud. Go where you’ll be safe. I…” The words stick in his throat so he tries other ones, “Go on… home.”

Oh Odin, when would saying it stop hurting? When would he stop saying it? 

Toothless doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as Hiccup stands there, heart breaking. It angers him: how much longer will his dragon make him suffer?

Clenching his teeth, Hiccup gestures out to the dark sky. “Go, Toothless. Go.” 

And still Toothless does not leave. 

He does move, but not towards the balcony railing like Hiccup expects him to. 

No… no, Toothless moves behind Hiccup and gives him the smallest of nudges, gently bumping him forward.

“What… Toothless, what are you doing? You have to go. Come on, go. Stop… stop making me say it again and again.” 

But Toothless doesn’t listen, nudging Hiccup forwards step by step until he’s pressed against the railing and the only way to go is down into the waves. 

“Toothless! What is wrong with you? What are you–” This last nudge doesn’t go to his back. It’s done against Hiccup’s hand, withered and wrinkled and trembling at his side. Once. Twice. A little rumble that sends pinpricks of feeling through his wrist.

And suddenly, Hiccup understands. 

A gift. That’s what he’d called Toothless’ visit tonight. But he’d failed to understand just how precious of a gift he was receiving. 

Hiccup breathes in, feeling a myriad of emotions swirl through him. Guilt over the selfishness for the choice he’s making. Grief over not saying goodbye. Shame for thinking about himself instead of his people. 

But when he breathes out, his shoulders feel lighter and his breath comes easier. Because he knows he’s lived today for them. Every choice, every breath, every drop of blood and sweat has been for them, for their today. It’s time for him to live for his own tomorrow. So he will.

With a barely heard snick , the prosthetic comes off, and Hiccup leaves it on the ground. He won’t need it where he’s going. From Toothless, a scale is taken, black and grey, shiny and ridged. A message for Astrid, a last goodbye. He knows she’ll understand. He knows she would have wanted him to do this. 

Bringing his hands up to rest on the railing, Hiccup looks out to the sky. The sun has begun to rise, tendrils of light cutting through the darkness. The waves continue to toss and turn below him but up in the sky, the clouds have begun to clear. 

Turning to his best friend, Hiccup grins. “Well, buddy…” Toothless’s ears perk up, mouth dropping into a gummy happy grin as he shakes and unfurls his wings, “Nowhere to go but up!” 

And with a burst of strength that he didn’t even know he had, Hiccup throws himself off the ledge. 

Air screams past his ears, his fur cloak is ripped away and the waves rush up at him. For what feels like an eternity, Hiccup is just dead weight, dropping like a stone towards the earth. 

In the next second, a body solidifies under him and he is weightless as a feather. 

Freedom .

Hiccup laughs and Toothless laughs with him, a roar of elation that carries across the sky. Cold wind batters at him, freezing his fingers, turning his breath into tiny tufts of smoke… but Hiccup could care less. He is home . 

They rise… up, up, up… so high that breathing hurts. There, Hiccup makes Toothless wait. There, up in the sky, up where he has always been free, Hiccup takes one last look at his home. At his old life. 

It should hurt that he will never see them again. It should hurt that he hasn’t said a proper goodbye to his children. 

But it doesn’t. Because Hiccup knows he’ll see them again. The gates of Valhalla will open and he’ll see all of them. It’ll be okay. They will be okay.

“Goodbye.” He sends the message on the wind, truly believing that it’ll be heard.

Then as one, man and dragon turn away from the island, and with a great gust of wind, they soar, flying into the never ending sky, into the great blazing sun that welcomes them. 

Flying towards tomorrow. 

Ooo

Chapter Text

Astrid’s dreaming. 

Most people wouldn’t know when they’re dreaming but Astrid does. At least, she does for this one. There are a few indicators. 

For one thing, she’s alone with Hiccup outside and that hasn’t happened in years. Odin forbid someone saw them; there would be some problem only the chief or the chief’s wife could fix. 

Her second indication that she’s dreaming is the fact that her bones don't ache… and her bones always ache now, even when she promises Hiccup that it doesn't. 

But there's no pain in this dream. Just her and Hiccup on a cliff, soft breeze caressing her open hair, sun setting in the distant horizon, and the sound of waves far below. 

Hiccup’s touching her, those gentle touches that make her fall in love with him every time. Fingers trail over her cheek, tucking away a lock of hair, before the hand tangles with her own, a kiss pressed across her knuckles. 

The touches against her face turn into kisses, chaste and loving in the best way, dotted over her forehead, her cheeks and finally, her lips. She wants to deepen it, wants to keep Hiccup close to her, but she can only move to press their cheeks together, a moment of simple intimacy that warms her heart. 

It’s nice. She likes this dream, Astrid decides. She wants to stay here forever, in this quiet place where it’s just Hiccup and her, where there are no responsibilities for them to shoulder, no choices that Hiccup has to make, no loss that burdens their heart. Just them. 

But Hiccup pulls away from her. Slowly, his arms leave her and he pulls back. His green eyes glitter in the sunlight with a message that she can’t decipher. Astrid tries to call for him, tries to ask him to stay, tries to ask where he is going… but the words don’t come. She can do nothing but stay there on the grass and watch as Hiccup moves backward, his eyes on her as he walks towards the edge of the cliff. 

She should be scared, she should be screaming as Hiccup moves closer to the edge. But all Astrid feels is calm… and something akin to hope as she watches her husband take a step. And another. And another. 

One more step. Hiccup disappears from her view, right into the waves below. 

And Astrid wakes up. 

Their bedroom is warm, no doubt because of the fire blazing away in their hearth. But Astrid still shivers, sucking in a breath as she tugs the fur pallets closer around her. Sweet Frigga, what kind of dream was that? 

Their people believed that dreams held meaning, there there was a lesson to be learned. But what lesson was to be learned from her dream? What meaning could she decipher from it? Not just Hiccup leaving her like that, but her apparent acceptance of it? Why in Thor’s name would she be so okay with Hiccup simply disappearing from her life like that? She should have been angry, she should have been furious… but her dream-self had been strangely at peace. 

It makes no sense and all Astrid wants is to burrow in her husband’s heat and sleep until morning comes and Berk needs them again. 

But Hiccup’s side of the bed is empty. Astrid feels her heart sink for a minute before she lets logic come through. Waking up to find Hiccup missing from their bed is not completely out of the norm for them. She knows exactly where the man is. 

Pouting at losing some of her sleep and ready to wrangle her own personal heater back where he belongs, Astrid reaches for her fur cloak and tugs it over her shoulders. 

This late at night, with his leg missing from their side table – there’s no doubt that he’s out on their balcony. The only place where the clouds can visit him. Many a night Astrid has woken up without Hiccup by her side, only to find him watching the sunrise outside, leaning against the railing. 

It stands to reason that he’s out there again tonight. But the seasons are turning and even if he’s taken a cloak with him, the chill cannot possibly be good for his health. Hiccup can watch the sunrise from within the comfort of their rooms, she thinks, and Astrid slowly eases herself off the pallet and towards the balcony door, groaning slightly as her bones ache. 

Odin, how she misses the days where she could throw an axe and barrel roll at the same time. Nowadays, if she tries that combo, she’d pull a muscle and then have to deal with the combined disappointed looks of her husband, son and daughter. Not to mention sit with Gothi’s daughter who delights in applying foul-smelling concoctions liber-

There’s no light outside thanks to Nuffink forgetting to light the sconces, and Astrid might be older but her eyesight is still top notch. 

Which means she very much sees her husband sitting cross-legged on the floor, and a very familiar looking dragon sprawled across his lap. 

Toothless. 

The little cry she gives out is heard only by her ears, her heart bursting with joy. He’s back. Hiccup’s dragon is back. And if he’s back, then does that mean the others have returned too? Has Stormfly returned for her? 

But in the minutes that pass, no other dragons make themselves known and as much as Astrid strains her ears, she cannot hear their calls. 

Which means… Toothless’ presence here tonight is a gift for Hiccup and Hiccup only. Astrid isn’t sure why but she sure as Hel will not be going out there to find out why. This night is for Hiccup and she will give him this. 

Tugging one of the larger cushions from their bed onto the floor, Astrid gently lowers herself with a soft groan. This night might be for Hiccup but she will sit here, watching over them both. It’s the least she can do. 

She can’t hear them but she can see Hiccup running his hands over Toothless, no doubt trying to learn what has transpired in the years they last saw the dragons. He must be telling Toothless about their lives too, about the friends and family they’ve lost, about the sacrifices they’ve made, the legacy they’ve passed onto their children. 

Their lives without the dragons had been hard, but Astrid was proud of what they had built. New Berk would carry on the legacy, their traditions, their knowledge and secrets for generations to come… and none of that would have been possible if it hadn’t been for Hiccup, for the choices he made. For always putting his people first. Even now, when he is no longer chief, he counsels their daughter and puts New Berk first. He chooses them. He always has. And Astrid wonders when the day will come when he’ll choose himself.

Movement outside has her focusing. Hiccup and Toothless rise from the cold ground, and Hiccup nearly stumbles as he pulls himself up. Astrid doesn’t worry though. Toothless will help him, and indeed he is there, using his scaly head to prop up his boy as they look out to the sky together. Where Hiccup has always belonged. 

She’s his home, but his heart has always been for the skies. This is a truth Astrid has always known, and it doesn’t hurt her. Why would it when again, she knows the many times he has put her and the people of Berk before his own heart? 

When his own heart was breaking, Hiccup put the needs of the people, the needs of their dragons first. 

And again, on their balcony, surrounded by his heart and his home, he puts the needs of the dragons first. She can see the way he gestures out to the sky, urging Toothless to go, to leave him yet again. Astrid’s hands clench over the cushion, her chest aching. How many times will her love have to say goodbye? How many times will he have to watch his friend fly away?

But… Toothless doesn’t leave. No, he goes behind Hiccup, nudging him closer to the railing, towards the dark waves below. 

Heart freezing in her chest, Astrid pushes herself up, aching bones forgotten. Her dream. Her dream turned to reality. A nightmare. No, no, Hiccup can’t leave her like this! Not without goodbye! Not without telling her– he can’t! 

Her hand’s on the brass knob, ready to pull. She inhales, a call building in her throat.

But she stops. Because something tells her that she shouldn’t intervene. Something tells her… today is the day Hiccup chooses. Something tells her that this night, this moment, is not hers. She’s here to simply watch silently. 

So Astrid does.

She watches as Hiccup looks out to the sky, then to Toothless. She watches as he just… melts. All those responsibilities, all the burdens that he has ever carried, the difficult choices he’s had to make, the sacrifices he’s had to endure, Astrid watches as they all just disappear. 

Despite his age, he stands taller. He looks… lighter. Lighter than even when Zephyr took over as Chief.

And in the breaking light of day, Astrid watches as three things happen. 

One, Hiccup takes off his prosthetic, leaving it on the ground. Two, he places something round and black next to it. And three, Hiccup throws himself off their balcony. 

Dream turned reality. 

It’s so fast and so sudden that Astrid is simply frozen in shock for a moment. 

And then the adrenaline slams into her and she wrenches the door open, tumbling out to the familiar roar of waves… and something else. A high-pitched whistle. A Night Fury dive bombing, she realizes. 

Before her scream can carry on the wind, a black shape shoots out of the waves and into the sky. And the sight of Hiccup on the back of his dragon sends a myriad of emotions through her. 

Joy… because a boy and his dragon have been reunited. Sorrow… because a man and his wife have to say goodbye. Guilt… because she wishes that he stayed. And anger… because he left her behind. 

She’s heartbroken and she’s furious that the only goodbye she has been left with is a shiny grey tinged black scale on the ground before her. 

How? How could he have left her like this? How could he not choose her? 

The truth slams into her as forcefully as the wind, and Astrid nearly sways. 

Hiccup has always chosen her. He’s chosen her and the people of Berk time and time again. And this time, he’s chosen himself.  

Like she wanted. 

It’s staggering, that realization, because the moment she’s honest with herself, the moment she looks past the hurt and the heartbreak… all Astrid feels is her heart soaring for Hiccup. Because he’s finally chosen himself.  

He’s chosen the freedom and the sky that he’s always longed for. He’s chosen, for once, to leave Berk and its people behind. To leave her behind. 

And as painful as this choice is, it’s the right one to make. 

The acceptance, when it comes, feels like a cloud settling over her shoulders, and Astrid huffs out a soft laugh. Lessons learned from dreams, indeed. 

Looking out to the sky, where a dragon tumbles and weaves through the clouds, Astrid lets her love go, hoping against hope that her words reach him. “I don’t blame you. I hope you know that I know that. But I’ll miss you. I know we’ll see each other soon. And we’ll all be okay here. I promise. I love you.” 

She won't cry. Not today. Not even tomorrow. Because this is not goodbye for her and Hiccup. She'll see him again in the great halls of Valhalla… where she’ll sock him in the shoulder right before kissing him. 

There is so much to be done. The people will need to be told. Her children will need to be comforted. Their friends will need the truth of what happened tonight. 

But for now, she simply watches silently as man and dragon halt high in the sky for a moment before disappearing into the never ending horizon. 

She watches and then she goes to turn away. 

Something stops her. 

Something tells her to listen. 

From far away, over the crash of the waves and the howl of the wind, she hears it. 

A call. One that she will never forget. 

Astrid smiles at the sky, at the promise, at the gift that she’s been given. “In time, my good girl. All in good time.” 

Ooo