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aleteia-ff · 5 years ago

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The Last Snoggletog | Phantomverse Snoggletog One-Shot

Also read on: AO3, FF.net

Summary: Four winters after the Phantom has stopped haunting them, Berk celebrates Snoggletog. Finding that perhaps, in many ways, the Phantom is still with them after all.

Set after the events of The Phantom of the Arena, and about half a year before those of the sequel (currently WIP), The Phantom of the Archipelago.

A/N: Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! I am very happy to be back in the Phantomverse with a little story for the holidays. This one-shot is set after the events of the Phantom of the Arena and hence contains major spoilers for that story.

It is also set about half a year before the events of the sequel I am working on as I post this – The Phantom of the Archipelago…

Winter storms were a yearly recurrence on Berk. They were sudden, unpredictable, gripping you with full force before you properly realised what you’d gotten yourself into. Their strong winds released torrents of snow right in your face, making your skin feel as if it was being grazed by ice while you slowly lost any sense of feeling in your fingers. No number of layers of clothes would help, they all became soaked through more quickly than you expected them to, after which they’d freeze to your limbs, turning your skin red and finally blue. The only thing you could do was look for shelter, hoping, praying to the Gods that they’d cease their torment and allow you to make it through the night.

Astrid Hofferson wasn’t sure which alternative was worse. The snowstorms the Gods brought down upon them, or dealing with the blizzard that was a three-year old on Snoggletog Day.

“Mummy!”

She felt something pull on her sleeve and looked down into a pair of big, absurdly green eyes, surrounded by a smattering of freckles all belonging to Hamish Hofferson. She was about to open her mouth to tell him off when he was whisked away by a pair of hands that weren’t hers.

“What did we say about going near the fire?” her mother scolded Hamish, lifting him up under his armpits and looking at him with a strict expression.

Astrid didn’t need to see Hamish’s face to know he was pouting. “But -”

“No, Hamish, what did we say?” her mother insisted.

Hamish’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s dangerous.”

“Right,” her mother nodded. “So don’t do it.”

“But I wanna know when Odin’s coming!” Hamish squirmed, twisting his head to look at his mother.

Astrid rolled her eyes and smiled to herself as she stirred the pot in front of her. He definitely hadn’t been asking her that question non-stop since this morning.

“Grandpa Stoick isn’t here yet,” she reminded him. “He has to make sure everyone is okay first.”

“Cause he’s the Chief!” Hamish beamed as if he was the only one in the room who was aware of that information.

“Exactly,” her father nodded, scratching his brown beard. “And Odin doesn’t deliver presents if you’re watching.”

“Why not?” Hamish asked.

Because none of it is true, Astrid mused to herself, blowing on the ladle and taking a sip. She pondered for a moment before turning to her mother. “Mom, do you think this needs more yak?”

“I’m sure it tastes great, honey,” her mother instantly replied.

She tasted again, really letting the beverage simmer on her tongue, and nodded to herself. “Yeah, I actually think this might be my best batch of yaknog yet!” Who knew she could actually learn how to cook? Let alone come up with her cup of holiday cheer.

“Why not?” Hamish asked.

“Because he doesn’t want to be seen,” her mother tried.

“Uncle Tuff saw him,” Hamish retorted.

Her mother rolled her eyes, but her father played along. “Oh, did he?”

“Yes!” Hamish insisted as his grandmother put him down. He bounded over to his grandfather’s chair. “He says he looks like a troll.”

“And what do trolls look like, then?” Astrid’s father humoured him, ruffling Hamish’s auburn hair - as if it wasn’t messy enough already - before lifting him onto his lap, Hamish’s boots landing on his grandpa’s knees.

“Dunno,” Hamish shrugged, his shoulders moving more than they should.

“Because they aren’t real,” her mother cut in.

Hamish adamantly shook his head. “Uncle Gobber says they are! They steal socks.”

“And do they have any preference? Red socks, blue socks, brown socks?” her father asked.

Hamish furrowed his brows for a moment, leaving the room simmering with anticipation.

“Left socks,” he finally decided.

Astrid considered for a moment whether she should enlighten Hamish about how Gobber didn’t have a left foot, but since her mother also simply shook her head, she decided they could do with a little less Hofferson-realism for the day.

“I looked for them with Grandpa Stoick!” Hamish continued.

That was news to her. “Didn’t Grandpa Stoick take you fishing?” Stoick had needed the break after Black Plague Friday - they all did - and had been kind enough to take Hamish with him upstream.

“Fishing’s boring,” Hamish stated, as if the food he was served every day simply appeared out of thin air. She could agree with the sentiment though. The amount of time she could save if she still had Stormfly…

But that was something she could only dream of.

While Hamish started to ramble about his latest adventures, she redirected her attention to the large pot in front of her, noting that the yaknog had thickened enough, but was still bubbling slightly. Meaning it was absolutely perfect.

“Hamish,�� she called, prompting the excitable ball of fluff to look up at her. “Do you want to help me hand out some yaknog outside?”

Hamish’s face lit up with a bright smile, and he nodded. “Yes!”

“Go get your clothes, then,” she ordered. Hamish instantly jumped off his grandfather’s lap and ran to the bedroom.

Her mother took the ladle from her, filling the mugs Astrid had borrowed from the Great Hall while Astrid held them up and arranged all but five of them on her favourite festive shield. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a pile of clothes waddling back out of her parents’ bedroom, unable to see where it was going.

She put the tray of yaknog down on the table, shaking her head and picking her favourite bundle of furs up from the floor, separating him from his outdoor clothes and putting them both on a chair. Hamish was surprisingly compliant, only swinging his legs back and forth while she bound a festive red scarf the same colour as his tunic around his head and pulled a dark green knit cap over his ears, his unruly auburn hair sticking out at the bottom. She wrapped him up in his fur coat and a pair of mittens and pulled on his outfit until she was sure there were no more gaps through which he could get cold.

She dressed herself and handed Hamish one of the mugs after he jumped off the chair. “Be careful, it’s hot, okay? Keep it in both of your hands and watch your feet.”

Hamish nodded as well as his scarf allowed him too, staring at his mug like a mother dragon at her favourite hatchling. “Yes Mummy!”

She pulled up the hood she’d now owned for almost four years and took the tray from the table before turning to her parents. “If it goes as fast as last year, we won’t be long. If you need us, I don’t think we’ll head outside of the village centre.”

“Take as long as you need, dear,” her mother reassured her, taking care of the now-empty pot. “We’ve got all day.”

“Just don’t be surprised if we finish our mugs before you get back!” her father added, standing up to open the door, and her mother nodded along with the kind of enthusiasm rarely seen from Sigrid Hofferson.

Astrid grinned. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t!”

She shivered for a moment when they stepped outside, figuring that this was the kind of cold no one ever really got used to. But experience had taught her that if you simply sucked it up and endured for long enough, it wasn’t quite so bad.

They walked through the village centre, its streets busy with celebrating Berkians despite the light snow, and handed out mugs of warm yaknog to anyone who liked to have some. She’d expected Hamish to bound off to jump into one of the piles of snow as soon as he could, but to her surprise he actually stayed at her side, eagerly taking a new mug from her tray after he’d managed to charm someone into accepting the one he had.

Astrid knew all too well how hard it was to say no to his big, green eyes. She’d thought Toothless begging for fish was the worst she’d have to deal with in her life, but Hamish had quickly proven her wrong. She was starting to get better at saying ‘no’ however. She didn’t want to end up like Snotlout after all. Little Solveig had managed to completely wrap her father around her finger and leave Ruffnut to do the actual parenting. In her own Thorston way.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered what kind of parent Hiccup would be around Snoggletog. He’d probably be up all night, last-minute trying to finish the perfect gift, all exhaustion fading away when Hamish found it the following day, his face lighting up with the kind of beaming smile that was unique to their son.

She silently scolded herself. She shouldn’t think about things like that. Especially not today.

By the time they reached the village square, the Snoggletog Tree proudly standing in the middle of it, they had already handed out half of the mugs, Hamish’s sales technique surprisingly effective. Most Berkians took the beverage back home with them, telling her they’d rather take their time and enjoy it by the fire. She felt it was a compliment - at least they didn’t jug it down the way they did with mead. They actually made an effort to enjoy it.

And they no longer scowled at her the way they had the first year she’d been back on Berk.

She’d missed the first Snoggletog after the Phantom had left Berk. She’d been out looking for Hiccup, desperately hoping she could tell him he was going to be a father. But she hadn’t been lucky enough to succeed. And when she returned she had to deal with a village that scowled at her when her pregnancy became more visible and she could no longer hide her growing belly with loose-fitting shirts and dresses.

She could take the stares, she could deal with the disapproval. But she didn’t want Hamish to be a victim of her bad decisions more than he already was. She wanted him to have a normal childhood to the extent that he could. So she did whatever she could to help out the village, in spite of the judgement she received. Serving everyone yaknog was just one of the things she did, and judging by people’s reactions and how, as they reached the village square, none of the parents complained when Hamish instantly rushed off to play with their kids, it had worked.

She briefly chatted with Gobber after she’d run out of yaknog, listening to his lecture on all the ‘grand surprises’ he’d cooked up for the feast tonight. That kind of defeated the point of it being a surprise, but his descriptions made her mouth water enough for her not to mind.

She caught up with Heather and Fishlegs, who really seemed to be regretting setting their sights on a Spring wedding. Even though Heather had practically been living with Fishlegs ever since she’d moved to Berk, there were a lot more eyes on them now that they were properly engaged. Meaning that they’d lost a part of their freedom and were expected to stick to the tradition of staying celibate until they were properly married. Heather was one of the only people who dared to - and was allowed to - joke that perhaps, Astrid and Hiccup should have been a little more ‘traditional’ as well. Which was ironically illustrated by Astrid spotting Hamish in the corner of her eye, starting to scale up the Snoggletog Tree, and her having to rush over to pluck him off it.

He could climb just fine, his mittens not limiting him at all. Getting down was the problem. She feared he would break one, if not both, of his legs one of these days. As Stoick put it, the boy suffered from a heart-stopping combination of Astrid’s athletic intuition, Hiccup’s curiosity and, of course, his lack of danger assessment.

She supposed one of the upsides of dragons hardly being seen these days was that Hamish couldn’t jump off the back of one. Because he definitely would.

She had to tug Hamish back by his coat a few more times while hearing Tuffnut out about all the ‘absolutely wicked’ stuff he’d treated himself with in this year’s Black Plague Friday sales. Her son finally seemed to lose interest when Ruffnut and Snotlout came over with Solveig proudly cradling an over-sized stuffed rabbit to her chest. As if the girl didn’t own enough stuffed animals yet.

“Looks like someone’s spine tragically broke on Black Plague Friday,” she teased, grinning as Hamish immediately started curiously poking the rabbit. “How Gothi manages to patch you back up again every time is beyond me.”

Snotlout only managed to muster up a guilty smile in response, prompting Ruffnut to roll her eyes and lightly slap his biceps. “I told him before they went out! She has enough toys already, and it’s not like she’s not getting anything new today.”

“She’s my little princess, okay!” Snotlout offered, putting up both of his hands. “Whatever she wants, she gets.”

Ruffnut audibly sighed. “Even princesses have to learn how to share.”

“Exactly!” Tuffnut nodded. “Ruffnut and I had to share every present we got!”

“You did not!” Snotlout rebuked.

“Oh yes, we did! Every sword -”

“I know you’re pulling my leg, Tuff.”

“- every axe -”

“I’ve been married to a Thorston for over four years, I can smell your family’s shit by now!” Snotlout cut in, while Ruffnut shook her head and mouthed the words he can’t to Astrid.

“Even Macey!” Tuffnut gestured wildly, slicing the air in front of him. “Right through half!”

“Why do I put up with you again?”

“You just don’t know the sorrows of being a true Thorston! You may have married into it, but you’re not really living it.”

“And why do I let you look after my daughter?”

Tuffnut proudly crossed his arms over his chest. “Because I’m the best babysitter on this entire island. That’s why.”

“He is,” Astrid instantly concurred.

“Yup.” Ruffnut clapped her husband’s shoulder, making Snotlout visibly wince. “No argument there, hot stuff.”

“Well now that that’s cleared up -” Tuffnut continued despite Snotlout’s insistent glare.

“Grandpa!”

Hamish shot right past them, snow flurrying up as he rushed into the wide-spread arms of Stoick the Vast, an unstoppable force tackling an immovable object with a hug.

“Hamish!”

“That’s my cue,” Astrid smiled, tucking her tray-shield under her arm. “See you tonight.”

The others waved and said their goodbyes as she walked over to Stoick and Hamish, the latter already babbling excitedly.

“Mama! Grandpa says Odin came with presents!” he smiled.

She exaggeratedly pulled up her eyebrow. “Oh, did he? Then we just missed him!”

Hamish’s face clouded slightly and she smiled at him, poking his cute nose. “But you helped me hand out yaknog to the entire village. So I’m sure Odin’s proud of you.” She kissed his cheek. “I know I am.”

That seemed to put Hamish at ease, his worries soon forgotten as Stoick lifted him up on his shoulders, the view from up high never ceasing to amaze him. She got that. She knew all too well how different the world looked from above. It was something she didn’t simply forget.

They made their way back to her parents’ house, their mugs of yaknog already empty and Hamish’s completely forgotten when he spotted his helmet by the now low-burning hearth. He surged towards it as soon as Stoick put him down, leaving Astrid to fall to her knees behind him and take off his snow-soaked outer clothes while he dug in.

Her parents had stuffed Hamish’s helmet, which was still too large and slid over his eyes when he actually wore it, with sweets he liked, along with a small but high-quality wooden sword, Hamish’s initials carved into the hilt. H.H. Like his father, and the ancestors he’d been named after, before him. Just the H for Hofferson instead of the last name he should have had.

She managed to tug Hamish’s coat over his arms just before he started swinging the sword around, clearly already in love with his gift. She shared a look with her parents, taking in their delighted gazes, and smiled back at them, silently thanking them. For more than just today.

The next present Hamish found was her own; a bundle of papers, bound in brown leather, with a charcoal pencil tucked between the pages. The same kind of booklet as the one Hiccup always carried with him.

Hamish picked it up with care, feeling the leather beneath his fingers. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him back into her chest, looking over his shoulder and slowly closing her hands around her gift so she could show him the empty pages.

“It’s a notebook,” she explained, taking the pencil and drawing a single line onto the paper to demonstrate. “People write stuff down in it they think is important, or need to remember. Uncle Fishlegs has a lot of them. That’s how he knows so much. And Grandpa Stoick does the same.”

Hamish, eyes filled with wonder, glanced back at Stoick, who nodded along with her story.

“And Daddy, he…”Don’t talk in past-tense, she reminded herself. “… he does the same. Whenever he sees a new dragon, or finds out something about them he didn’t know yet, he makes notes for himself. Because he’s very smart, but he also forgets things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you remember what Gronckles eat, right?”

Hamish nodded enthusiastically. “Rocks!”

“Yes, all kinds of rocks. Daddy knew that, and he’d written down how much fish Gronckles could eat too, but he encountered this Gronckle he wanted to befriend. And there weren’t a lot of edible rocks around, so he thought he could feed him fish for this one day. Later that night, Daddy found out that was not a good idea, at all,” she laughed. “Do you know what happens to Gronckles if they eat too much fish?”

Hamish shook his head and she leaned in, whispering in his ear as if she was telling him a secret. “They love the fish. But it makes them fart, a lot.” Hamish started giggling, so she threw in a bit more of her high-quality humour. “It smells really bad. And Daddy had to spend the whole night in a cave with that Gronckle.”

“Poor Daddy,” Hamish chuckled.

“Yeah, your Dad’s a bit of a dummy like that sometimes,” she smiled, hugging Hamish closer. If only those had been the worst mistakes Hiccup had made.

“But what he also does, is drawing pictures,” she continued, more seriously. “It’s Daddy’s Book of Dragons after all, that we have at home. The one I read you from, with all the dragon drawings you love. Daddy didn’t just write the words, he drew all of the dragons too. And he has many more sketches, especially of Toothless.”

“Whoa,” Hamish gaped.

“It’s pretty cool, right?” She nodded against Hamish’s shoulder. “And now you and I can draw together too.”

Hamish clapped his hands in excitement. “And show Daddy and Toothless when they’re home!”

She could feel the eyes of the other adults in the room on her. Concerned, as if she didn’t have to deal with this every day. As if by now, she hadn’t gotten used to telling half-truths to the person she loved most in the entire world.

She simply closed the sketchbook and cuddled Hamish as tightly as she could. “Of course. They’ll love them. Toothless knows talent when he sees it.”

“Toothless is smart.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she concurred. “Smartest dragon I ever met. He draws too, but he can’t hold a pencil with his claws, so he draws in the sand with his tail and a stick.”

“I love sticks!”

She smiled to herself, shaking her head. If only life was always so simple. “So what do we say now? Who do we thank for the gifts?”

“Odin.”

“So we say…?” she continued when Hamish looked up at her. “Than…”

“Thank you, Odin!” Hamish completed, before looking back at his grandparents. “Did you see him?”

Her father shook her head. “No. We were upstairs. He must have sneaked in through the chimney!”

Hamish looked up in wonder, and Astrid just knew he was trying to figure out if he’d fit through the chimney himself. She was sure he did, and that she would have to watch him even more closely in the coming days.

“But I do think we heard something in the bedroom while we were there, didn’t we?” her father continued, looking at her mother, who nodded along but stayed silent. “Shall we take a look?”

Hamish nodded in excitement, his other presents temporarily forgotten as he jumped to his feet and let Grandpa Arne lead him into the bedroom. Astrid heard his delighted squeal not much later, which she knew had been in reaction to a rocking horse that’d been made to look like a dragon, even with a small set of wings. Stoick had put more time and effort into it than his duties allowed for. But he’d reassured her that he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Spoiling Hamish was the only way he could try to repay the debt he felt he had towards Hiccup, after all.

“Arne and I play along, Chief,” her mother remarked, all too aware Hamish was out of earshot and preoccupied. “But I do want to make it clear that I don’t approve.”

“I know, Sigrid,” Stoick simply said.

Her mother pursed her lips, clearly not getting the answer she was looking for.

“Mom, do we really have to do this today?” Astrid tried. “Again?”

“If not today, then when?” her mother argued.

“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s a problem to begin with, so I don’t see why we need to have this discussion. As if we’ve never had it before.”

“Both of you -” Her mother gestured to her and Stoick. “- can see how dangerously much he resembles Hiccup. He’s already obsessed with dragons, and you’re only feeding it further with your stories and these kind of presents.”

“Being like Hiccup isn’t dangerous,” Stoick countered.

“A lot of the village disagrees,” her mother threw back.

“And they’re part of the reason he became dangerous,” Astrid hissed. “And what else would you have me do? Just not mention his father? Hamish is smart, he’d start asking questions eventually. I’d rather be ahead of him.”

“You could’ve told him his father’s dead,” her mother bluntly said. “It wouldn’t be an exception for a Berkian kid.”

“Hiccup’s not dead,” Stoick cut in before Astrid could, the room cooling down due to the iciness hardly ever heard in Stoick the Vast’s voice.

It left her mother completely unfazed. “Chief, we haven’t received a sign of life from your son in over a year.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead,” Astrid snapped. Sure, there had been obvious signals that Hiccup was still alive, in the first few years… A ripped out eye-ball or two, a severed piece of skin, all belonging to the Red Death and delivered to Berk overnight to make a point. Brought here by dragons, she presumed. She didn’t want to believe that Hiccup had been on Berk himself without checking in on her. And on the son he didn’t know he had.

“I’m just afraid you’re setting him up for disappointment,” her mother said, more silently now. “We can’t keep pretending Hiccup will come back for the rest of his life while he doesn’t. Like you said, Hamish is smart.”

“We’ll fight that dragon when it rears its ugly head,” Stoick decided, sounding more like the Chief of Berk, and less like family. It was the way their arguments always ended.

Astrid got up from the floor, wiping some of her hair out of her face and looking at her mother. “I can’t just forget about him, or his dream. Our dream.” A world safe enough for dragons. “I’m not going to raise another Berkian dragon killer, that’s not how this works, that’s not what Hiccup would want, and neither do I. I know it’s overly sentimental, I know it doesn’t necessarily make sense, but…”

She fisted one of her hands in her skirt, averting her gaze. “It’s just not that simple. Of course I wish Hiccup were here, especially this time of year. Snotlout and Ruffnut get to spend all day with Solveig, even Spitelout being slightly tolerable for the occasion, and meanwhile I’m here pretending Hiccup cares about Hamish as much as all of us.”

She bit her lip, wiping her eyes. “It’s not fair. None of it is.” She stared into the fire so she wouldn’t glare at the woman who’d raised her and who she’d relied on so much the past four years. “And you don’t need to enlighten me on how it was Hiccup’s own choices, and mine, that got us here. I know that. Better than anyone else.” She shook her head. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. I tried. I’m still trying, every single day.”

It was becoming less difficult. Slightly. But she doubted the pain would ever really go away.

She felt a large hand on her shoulder, undoubtedly Stoick’s, and leaned into his comforting touch. “We all know what it’s like to miss someone you love this time of year,” he softly said. She knew he wasn’t just talking about Hiccup. Stoick had lost more friends and family than she could imagine. “But the only thing we can do when they can’t be here for the holiday, is celebrate them. It’s what they’d want us to do.”

She could only agree with that. And when Hamish burst back in, dragging his newest toy out of the bedroom and proudly showing it to everyone, her mother resigned herself to it as well. It was their burden to bear, after all, not Hamish’s.

Her son was simply happy, his bright and bubbly smile lighting up the room. And that was all that really mattered.

------------------------------------------------------------

Gobber most certainly hadn’t lied about all the effort he’d put into the Snoggletog feast. He had practised absolutely zero self-constraint, and as a result, this was easily the best year yet. Roasts, stews, vegetables from the lands they had finally been able to cultivate now that the dragons didn’t destroy their fields at least once a month. And the bread, Gods, the bread… She had to get the recipe. It was criminally delicious.

Astrid couldn’t remember the last time she had been this full. And none of this, a feast this grand and lavish, would have been possible if it hadn’t been for Hiccup and his efforts to keep the Red Death occupied.

Not that anyone felt the need to thank him for that. Hiccup wasn’t publicly mentioned in general, his existence ignored, the truth about the Phantom and the accompanying question of who would succeed Stoick as Chief too sensitive to casually discuss. But they knew as well as she did who was responsible for Berk’s newfound prosperity. She could tell by the looks the villagers gave her, and her son.

All of it went over Hamish’s head, of course, who was completely unaware of how many people kept an eye on him as Tuffnut tried to teach him and Solveig how to dance. Not far away from them, Heather and Fishlegs set a good example - they hadn’t missed an occasion to dance since that very first time, when Hiccup had paired them up at Snotlout and Ruffnut’s wedding. Looking towards the other side of the dance floor, she spotted Spitelout, who was watching his granddaughter with obvious dismay.

She smirked and shook her head. How petty, being grumpy over two toddlers. It wasn’t as if they were getting married. Now that would be a disaster. A Jorgenson and a Hofferson. Right.

“Enjoying the view?” Ruffnut quipped, sitting down next to her on her bench and leaning back against the table, a mug in her hand.

“Well, they do look adorable, don’t you think? Better than them starting to pull on each other’s hair again.”

“Tuffnut’s surely got a way with them,” Ruffnut nodded. “But I was actually talking about the look you were giving my lovely father-in-law.”

She snickered. “He hasn’t grown on you yet either?”

“Oh, he has. Like a splinter in my spleen, slowly forcing its way in and festering until it smells and hurts so bad you’d rather drive a knife through your chest.” Ruffnut took a gulp of her hot yak milk. “But, speaking of parasites and things I should probably see Gothi for…” Astrid pulled up an eyebrow, but Ruffnut didn’t look at her. “That disgusting herbal tea they say is the solution to all our problems? Not always effective.”

“Well, yeah,” Astrid grinned, gesturing to the dance floor. “Forget to take it one morning and you’ve got yourself an adorable mini-Hiccup.”

“I did take it every day.”

Astrid gaped at Ruffnut. “You mean...?” She glanced at her mug of mead before Ruffnut answered, figuring she’d had too much. Sober Astrid would have caught on to that immediately. "And you mentioning Solveig having to learn how to share earlier today…?"

“Yep,” Ruffnut answered, making the ‘p’ pop. “Sol’s getting a sibling this Summer.”

“Whoa, I mean…” she blinked, trying to come up with an appropriate response.

Oh Gods.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of the hint of panic simmering beneath her skin. “Congratulations!”

Ruffnut just nodded, looking away. “I suppose so.”

“You’re not happy?” she asked, trying not to let on that she herself also had strongly mixed feelings.

“I mean, I’m not unhappy, I love Solveig, but it’s just…” Ruffnut sighed. “Complicated.”

“Does Spitelout know yet?”

“No.” Ruffnut shook her head. “Just Tuff, my mom and Snot. But I don’t think Snot can keep it a secret for much longer, he’s too excited. So we’ll probably tell his dad tonight. And I’d rather you hear it from me than any of Spitelout’s gossipping friends.”

“Thank you,” she said, from the depths of her heart. “I really appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing,” Ruffnut shrugged, followed up by a grin. “Gives me someone to complain to when Spite starts digging up every folk tale telling desperate men how to make sure their women give birth to a boy.”

She snorted. “You don’t want a mini-Snotlout?”

“I don’t want a mini-Spitelout,” Ruffnut corrected her. “And I’m sure Snotlout would be perfectly happy with a whole horde of girls to spoil.”

“Until they start dating,” she joked, hoping she didn’t sound too relieved by Ruffnut’s preferences.

“At least the chaos won’t be mine, for once,” Ruffnut smirked. “I can’t wait.”

She scoffed. “Never a dull day on Berk, huh?”

“Don’t even need a Phantom to stay entertained,” Ruffnut remarked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Although that human disaster of yours was easier to deal with, in a way.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, the both of them glancing at Hamish, Solveig and Spitelout.

“You know, Astrid?” Ruffnut’s voice dropped, only audible to the two of them and surprisingly serious.

“Hm?”

“I think I’d like Hiccup to come back too.”

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Hiccup was even further away from Berk than usual. He didn’t necessarily hate that, but to say he was happy would be a severe overstatement.

Then again, happiness wasn’t one of the things he deserved to get for Snoggletog this year.

He took out his sketchbook and sat down, Toothless lying down next to him and Stormfly standing guard at the other end of the island. He searched for one of the rare empty pages and glanced up, placing his pencil on the paper and outlining what he saw in front of him.

The Rookery was a busy place on Snoggletog Day. It was filled to the brim with all kinds of dragons, some of which he recognised from his army, others from the Red Death’s nest. But the dragons didn’t seem to mind meeting their enemies here. Today, they were all equal, tending to their new hatchlings with unconditional love and care. It was as beautiful as it was frustrating.

He’d prefer to be back on the Red Death’s island and continue the fight. His efforts had been stalling for a while now, the Dragon Queen preferring to keep her head down in the heat where he couldn’t reach her. But if she kept that up, she’d starve sometime soon. There was no other logical option. He just didn’t know how much longer she would take.

What he did know was that being at the Nest wouldn’t yield him anything. He needed his other dragons to make a real impact, so he might as well watch over them and their babies for the time being. Perhaps he could intercept a few of the others on the way back, earn their trust to the point that they would join him instead of returning to serve the Red Death. Then at least it hadn’t been a complete waste of time.

He knew he didn’t need to be here. In all the years he’d guarded the Rookery, there hadn’t been a single Viking ship in its vicinity. He was the only one who knew where this island was. He could go wherever, to the Northern Markets to fix up his armour, to Berserker Island to take stock of Dagur’s degree of insanity during the holiday season… To Berk, just to give them a sign he was still alive. A Snoggletog surprise.

He snickered to himself as he heard another Gronckle egg explode in the background, an idea popping up in his head. Dragon eggs, on Berk, a ribbon tied around them. Looking perfectly innocent until they exploded. Letting him be a menace even though he wasn’t anywhere near Berk. For entertainment’s sake, this time.

“Nah,” he decided. “It’s a good thing those hatch far away from Vikings. Should probably keep it that way.”

As much as he tried to be a changed man, to think differently, to not get stuck in the negative spiral that had landed him in this spot in the first place… He wasn’t a huge fan of the idea of letting adorable baby dragons anywhere near Vikings either.

Instead he eased his boredom by continuing his sketch, capturing the Rookery’s bright beaches and many dragons as well as he could with charcoal alone. It was certainly one of the most beautiful islands in the Archipelago, and hard to properly translate to paper. Still, he didn’t think he was doing too badly. Toothless agreed, warbling his approval when Hiccup showed the sketch to him.

He considered finding a Terrible Terror and sending it to Berk with the sketch. A Snoggletog present for Astrid, like the figurine of Toothless he’d given her five years prior. He’d told her about the Rookery, and she’d wanted to see it, but had never taken her there because it was almost a day’s flight away from Phantom Island. They’d both figured there would be a time for that. They’d both assumed he wouldn’t screw things up this badly.

This could be a way to make it up to her.

But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t contact her. He wasn’t allowed to. He hadn’t earned the right to interrupt whatever she’d built for himself after he’d left. Not yet. For all he knew she was living her life happily without him. Alone, or with a man who was better for her than he ever could be.

He didn’t know. He had no idea, it was completely out of his hands. He didn’t have a sliver of control over it. And that sense of incompetence, that loss of power, was eating away at him, making his heart ache.

He missed her. He missed her so much.

Finishing his sketch, he made a promise to himself. He would kill the Red Death before the next winter. By next Snoggletog, he would have seen Astrid again. And even if she didn’t want anything to do with him, which he couldn’t blame her for, he would know she was doing fine.

This would be the last Snoggletog he spent in uncertainty.

--------------------------------------------------------

It was nearly midnight when Astrid got back to her own home. She silently thanked her parents for agreeing to host Snoggletog at their place this year, so she didn’t have anything to clean up. She could simply carry Hamish, who was half-asleep in her arms, into their bedroom in the back without having to care about anything else.

“There you go, little Terror,” she smiled as she put him down on their bed, shushing him as she pried his new notebook from his hands. After he’d finished ‘dancing’, they’d worked on it for a while. Hamish couldn’t read yet, let alone write, so she’d helped him sketch out the runes of his name on the first page. He’d continued to test out his pencil for the rest of the night, drawing simple shapes until he’d finally tired and fallen asleep in her lap.

She struggled to get him to cooperate as she took off his outer clothes, eventually resigning herself to simply tucking him in in the outfit he’d worn today instead of changing him into his nightshirt. She wandered around the house for a bit, making sure they wouldn’t get too cold during the night, before changing into her nightdress herself.

Hamish stirred when she slipped in next to him, opening his eyes and crawling towards her, murmuring something unintelligible.

She took him into her arms and sat back against the headrest. “What is it, baby?”

“Thless,” was all she could identify.

“What?”

Hamish fisted one of his hands in her dress, his green eyes gazing up at her through heavy eyelids. “Toothless.”

“You want Toothless?”

Hamish nodded, and she reached over to her night stand, picking up the wooden Night Fury figurine on top of it. Hamish grabbed it from her as soon as he laid eyes on it, cradling it against his chest. He’d been completely in love with it from when he was a baby.

She hugged Hamish tighter, lightly tapping the figurine’s snout. “Did you know that mini-Toothless was the first Snoggletog present Daddy gave me?”

And the only one. But Hamish didn’t need to know that.

Hamish’s eyes lit up despite his exhaustion, the way they always did whenever she mentioned Hiccup. Whenever she told him stories about his father, letting him believe Hiccup hadn’t abandoned them but that he cared, that he loved Hamish at least as much as she loved him. That he was simply away to do very important work. To fight an evil dragon and protect all the good ones she told Hamish stories about.

Hiccup was Hamish’s hero. She had built his image that way. One of an adventurer, an inventor, someone who fought for what he believed was right. All that Hiccup was if she chose to leave out the shadows and the scars. A Hiccup without the Phantom.

The Hiccup she desperately hoped to see the day he finally came back. Who could, at the very least, be a father to Hamish. If he wanted to.

Gods, she hoped he wanted to.

“He made it himself,” she explained, trying not to tear up. “Carved it out of wood and painted it to look just like the real Toothless. So that he’d always be with me.” She kissed the top of Hamish’s head. “And with you too, of course. Even when he’s away to fight.”

“Daddy and Toothless have Snoggletog too?”

“Of course,” she lied, because she didn’t know. She had no idea where Hiccup was, or what he was doing. She had no idea if he was alive. She didn’t know anything.

She kept telling people he would come back. While she wasn’t even sure herself.

“Odin only visits kids, but Daddy and Toothless celebrate Snoggletog with each other,” she improvised, biting away her tears when Hamish focused his gaze on the figurine in his hands. “They exchange gifts, although Toothless isn’t very good at it. He usually gets Daddy raw fish.”

Hamish giggled, and she went on for a while more about all the different kinds of fish Toothless liked, slowly lowering her voice until her perfect piece of happiness fell back asleep.

Then, she cried.

She kept Hamish cradled against her, not because she was afraid he’d wake up. Not because he needed it. But because she did. Because sometimes, she wasn’t as strong and hardened as she wanted to be. Because on days like these, she longed for every possible kind of distraction, to prevent herself from succumbing to the incredible sense of guilt and grief she still hadn’t managed to shake.

So she wept in silence. She had held out all day, and now allowed herself to have this moment. To imagine that she’d hear three knocks on her roof tonight and that Hiccup would slide in through the window, hugging her and assuring her that from now on, everything would be fine. That Ruffnut’s new pregnancy didn’t matter, because he’d come back. That he was going to fix the mess he’d left behind. That the Phantom was gone, and that he was here for them now. That she no longer had to do it alone.

That he loved them. That’d he’d never leave them again. That he would take care of his son until the day he died. And that he’d do the same for her, finally fulfilling his promise to make her his wife.

Just for tonight, she could be that naive. She could dream, she could hope. She could let go of what was sensible, and realistic, of all the plans she’d made for when Hiccup did come back.

And even though she hadn’t asked Odin for a present since she’d been eight, she now found herself whispering her only wish for the Gods to hear.

“Please bring Hiccup back. And let this be our last Snoggletog without him.”

----------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this little look into the current lives of everyone we came to know in The Phantom of the Arena, and that you all have a very happy holiday period!

I’d like to leave you guys with a bit more concrete information on the sequel I talked about in the author note at the start; I am currently working on writing it, but because I have a busy half a year ahead of me, I first want to have the first act (about 10 chapters) done before I start posting. I hope the posting will start in February at the latest, but I can’t make any promises. For more updated information, you can always look at my Tumblr (aleteia-ff) or join the channel #aleteias-fics on the ATOV Discord Server (link can be found in the description of my Tumblr profile).

I can give you guys the summary as a little teaser, however:

After five years of relentlessly putting up a siege against the Red Death, Hiccup, the former terrorist known as the Phantom of the Arena, has finally defeated the Archipelago's greatest enemy, putting a definitive end to the dragon raids. Hoping the worst is finally behind him, he returns to Berk, only to find he left more behind than just the girl he loved. And that life still isn’t done with him.

Outside of the Archipelago, Eret, son of Eret, is left with nothing after a mysterious dragon rider destroys his fort and releases the captured dragons his employer sorely needed. Fearing he’ll be killed if he doesn’t, he returns to the Archipelago with what little remains, hoping to find employment in the dragon-infested area. But the threat seems to have followed him, as news spreads of how Berk's infamous Phantom has returned to reclaim what's his. And that dragon hunters like Eret will never be safe, unless they act against him.

#phantom of the arena #pota #phantomverse #hiccstrid #hiccup #astrid #fanfiction #httyd fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfic #aleteia-writes #hamish hofferson #stoick the vast #snoggletog #merry christmas!#really hope you guys enjoy this ^^#wrote it in like 2 days

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texts-from-rotbtd · 3 years ago

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#TFLN #RotBTD #Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons #Astrid Hofferson #Hamish Dunbroch #Hubert Dunbroch #Harris Dunbroch

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fictionalnormalcy · 3 years ago

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TBWASN Ch. 10

The Boy with a Strange Name

Rating: Mature (Graphic Depictions of Violence)

Fandoms: Fusion of the How to Train Your Dragon books and animated franchise

Additional Tags: jaded protagonist, modern day AU, moving somewhere new, fitting in, making friends, additional DreamWorks characters, back to hometown

Summary: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III has lived nearly seventeen years of life. In the span of those years, he’s moved twelve times. Five of those years his mother was alive. Then a tragic accident left Hiccup in the sole care of his father, Stoick Haddock. Berk was where he had been born. That much he knew. Over every, single, move his father put him through, it wasn’t until he reached sixteen years old that Berk was the city in which the father finally decided to plant roots. At least, that was what he claimed. After years of being victimized at each school he attended, Hiccup was determined to keep a low profile at Berk High. His past is intent on preying upon him, deciding that Berk was perfect place to come back into the light. However, like all good things that came to him, there was always something to drag him back down into the pit of despair. A dormant secret, tied into his family history, was ultimately brought into the light when Hiccup settles on Berk. A secret tied with guilt and tears, and it all goes downhill from there. He discovered what his father truly did those long stretch of years, and finds he has a gift that had been nonexistent for centuries.

Ch. 10: A Questionable Bruise

"Yes, we were just about too," He said, suddenly getting a bad feeling about it.

He took a step back, but instantly froze when Astrid gently dragged her fingers across the bruise. The boy behind her became very fidgety, fiddling with the leather bracelets on his wrists, then dragging his left hand up and down the strap of his satchel. He was looking in Hamish's direction, or rather the doors behind him.

"I know I said this at lunch but you should really go to the nurse before you go."

"Why?" He scowled. "This pressure to have my wound attended to should have been during lunch, not now. I'm going home, Astrid. Good day."

"Dustin stepped on your hand," She placed a firm hand on his shoulder, "punched you in the jaw, and kicked you twice in the ribs. The least you could do is go talk to Ms. Ellery."

"It's after classes. She will refuse to see me, and say I need to stop blaming a senior for my injuries. Trying to hold him back from graduating will only hurt the school's reputation. It will just be a repeated story!"

He stopped fidgeting. His eyes as well, narrowed in on the bruise on Hamish's jaw. Staring at him, completely different than anyone had. He came to stand beside Astrid, glancing at her to see if she'd notice him.

"Astrid," he said, "you told me you have your basketball practice. I'm going to start walking,"

"I know I can't guide you, but can you at least wait until I finish so I can give you directions? Or maybe I can take you some other day."

"Then you need to understand, he doesn't need your help. If he's telling you it's too late, then you should respect his wishes. I'll wait outside."

He strode by Hamish, giving him an expression that completely boggled him. Compassion, yet he didn't dare to ask what had happened. Just who was this new kid? The boy was scrawny, but at least he was taller than Hamish. He heard the familiar swing of the door, as well as a different sound that had Hamish staring at the boy's leg. He could swear he heard a distinct click.

"Your chest doesn't hurt?" Astrid's concerned gaze regained his attention. "Orrick, how are your glasses?"

"Thank you for your concern Astrid, but everything is fine. We don't want to-"

"It's because of what happened earlier this year, isn't it? When he left me on the courts beaten?"

"Yes. Your father loves you Hamish. I'm just trying to make sure his son doesn't come home in critical condition."

"Like Orrick said. We don't want to keep you waiting. Help the new boy and we'll be on our way. My chauffeur should be outside."

"I'll drag you myself if I have to." Her concerned voice shifted into a threatening one. Her position shifted to be ready to grab him if necessary.

"I can make you a deal." He spoke to match her tone. "Help the boy outside, and you can come with me to see the nurse. Clearly you won't believe it until you see it."

"Or maybe I can give him the information he needs. What is it you were going to tell him Astrid?" Orrick hastily spoke up.

"He wanted directions to the Drinkery." She said cautiously, still watching Hamish.

She wouldn't let him walk out of the school if he tried. She always got her way. He'd known her for as long as he could remember. He could guess that if she didn't have her friends to keep her calm, she could be a bully as well. There was no one here to rescue him from Astrid Hofferson.

"I can help him! Hamish, please finish the matter quickly," Orrick squeezed his wrist as he scuttled out the doors.

He had seen her when someone provoked her into an angry fit. It was always justified, but she was indeed terrifying, and frankly, violent. He had best to fulfill his part of the bargain. However, if he ever wanted to make sure he gained enough confidence to stand up to Dustin, he needed to be able to keep Astrid in check as well.

"I'm going to need you to clarify some things for me." He told her as he started to briskly walk to the office. "Why now? You've seen me and Orrick be hurt by Dogsbreath dozens of times, especially at the beginning of the year. Today was not the worst he's done. There is no need for the threat to go to-"

"Hamish, your injuries were so severe you had to go to the hospital!"

Keep reading

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bluejevergade · 6 years ago

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Jour 15 : Victorian

-Comme d'habitude, monsieur Haddock ?

Lord Hiccup Hamish Haddock le Troisième acquiesça et on lui donna la clé de sa chambre habituelle. Il remercia la réceptionniste et monta à l'étage.

Lord Hiccup avait une vie des plus agréables. Marié à l'une des plus belles femmes de Londres, il détenait plusieurs entreprises industrielles, la fabrication de calèche, et la fabrication de véhicules motorisés qui faisait fureur. Il avait un magnifique manoir dans lequel se déroulaient les plus luxueuses et les plus prisées des réceptions. Sa femme lui avait également donné deux magnifiques enfants, une fille, Zephyr et un fils Nuffink. Lord Hiccup avait tout ce dont on pouvait rêver. Or, il continuait de venir là. Dans cette maison close.

Il enlevait généralement ses objets de valeurs, quand il venait là. Il allait directement à la réception et demandait une chambre, la même que d'habitude. Avec la même prostituée que d'habitude. Jacklynn faisait des merveilles sur lui.

Peu de temps après son arrivée, elle entra.

-Bienvenue à la l’île des Plaisir, monseigneur que puis faire pour réaliser… Hiccup ?

-Bonjour.

Immédiatement, Jack ferma la porte et enleva sa perruque. Un doux sourire éclaira son visage.

-Je ne t'attendais pas avant plusieurs jours…

-Justement, à ce propos… J'ai discuté de toi avec ma femme.

-Oh… Et alors ?

-Elle est d'accord pour que tu viennes vivre avec nous.

-C'est vrai ?

-Mais tu devras te faire discret. Nous avons un grand domaine. Tu t'occuperas des chevaux, avec notre palefrenier.

-Tu vas racheter ma liberté…

-Tu la rachèteras toi-même. Je vais te donner de l'argent que tu donneras à ta tenancière. En partant, tu monteras dans ma calèche. J'ai de quoi… Te faire enlever tes frusques. Arrivé au manoir, tu ressembleras à n'importe qui. Je te conduirais chez mon palefrenier qui s'occupera de toi. Tu auras une chambre personnelle et trois repas par jour, ainsi que…

Mais Jack se jeta sur lui, l'empêchant de continuer. Il tomba à la renverse sur le sol, Jack sur lui.

-Merci mon amour…

-Jack tu dois comprendre que…

Mais Jack l'embrassa et Hiccup fondit comme d'habitude. C'était bien le problème. Il était venu ici la première fois lorsqu'il avait dix-huit ans. Son cousin Rupert ne cessait de se moquer de lui, alors il avait voulu lui prouver qu'il avait tort. Il avait demandé une prostituée et on lui avait donné Jack. Jack n'avait alors que huit ans. Il avait perdu ses parents et sans aucune famille pour s'occuper de lui, il avait choisi la maison close au lieu de la famine de la rue. Hiccup avait été son premier client et son seul amour. Au début, Hiccup avait été choqué de voir que Jack était aussi jeune. Mais son père, discrètement, lui avait expliqué que tout le monde n'était pas aussi chanceux que lui, et que certains ne naissaient pas dans les bonnes familles. Hiccup était alors revenu plusieurs fois pour voir ce qu'il devenait et en grandissant, Jack devenait de plus en plus beau. Et des premières fois maladroites s'étaient transformé en étreintes charnelles des plus affectueuses. Le jeune lord s'était pris d'affection pour lui et avait voulu lui faire la surprise de le libérer de la proxénète qui avait acheté ses droits. Mais la vie s'était mis en marche, l'empêchant pendant douze longues années de mettre son plan à exécution. Hiccup s'était marié, à la belle Astrid Hofferson. Si Hiccup n'avait d'yeux que pour Jack, il devait avouer que la belle Astrid ne le laissait pas indifférent. Il avait été ensuite réglé les affaires de son père en Norvège. Il était revenu quelques jours, le temps de faire un enfant à sa femme pour repartir pour aller enterrer son père et mettre en ordre ses affaires. Il avait rapidement fait un deuxième enfant à sa femme avant d'aller voir Jack en coup de vent et de repartir pour gérer la fondation de son père. Ensuite il y avait eu la guerre, et la maladie, Hiccup avait attrapé la coqueluche et avait mis des mois à s'en remettre. Et enfin, depuis plusieurs semaines, il était revenu au pays.

Il aurait pu demander à n'importe qui d'aller libérer Jack, mais si la personne avait eu des motivations malhonnêtes et avait décidé de rendre publique la chose -que le très respecté Lord Haddock fornique avec un homme- ça aurait été la fin de son empire. Même si Jack se travestissait en fille depuis quelque temps pour rentrer dans la norme -et parce qu'en tant qu'homme, aucun client ne voulait prendre le risque de se faire surprendre avec lui- ils se devaient de rester discret. S'il avait directement demandé à la tenancière de la maison close, Madame Green, elle se serait fait une joie de le faire chanter en échange de son silence. Finalement, il en avait discuté avec sa femme. Quelques années avant, il l'avait surprise au lit avec une servante. Astrid avait alors fondu en larmes en lui expliquant qu'elle l'aimait lui, mais qu'elle était également amoureuse de sa servante, qu'elle connaissait depuis son plus jeune âge et qu'elle avait fait venir exprès depuis la maison de ses parents pour son mariage. Hiccup lui avait avoué la même chose, et leurs relations s'en étaient sorties renforcées. Il était amoureux d'Astrid, il ne pouvait pas le nier. Mais ce qu'il ressentait pour Jack, c'était complètement renversant.

Il lutta un moment pour se forcer à arrêter d'embrasser Jack.

-Nous devons se dépêcher… Le soleil ne va pas tarder à se lever. Il vaut mieux finir cette transaction pendant qu'il fait nuit.

Jack l'aida à se relever.

-Dis-moi ce que je dois faire.

-Je vais descendre. Et tu attendras quelques minutes avant de me suivre. Tu donneras l'argent à Madame Green et tu me rejoindras dehors, ma calèche est juste en bas de la rue.

-Le conducteur ne dira rien ?

-Non. C'est un de mes plus vieux amis. Le genre d'homme qui emporte un secret dans la tombe pour peu qu'on y met le prix. Il nous conduira jusqu'au manoir et nous serons en sécurité.

Hiccup l'embrassa.

-Tout devrait bien se passer.

-Je l'espère, mon amour, répondit Jack.

-Je suis tellement désolé d'avoir mis aussi longtemps…

-Tu as des responsabilités, c'est normal. Déjà tu as le temps de t'occuper d'un rebut de la société comme moi, c'est déjà bien.

-Tu n'es pas…

-Chut…

Jack l'embrassa doucement.

-Faisons vite.

Quelques mois plus tard

-Bon anniversaire, my Lord !

-Joyeux anniversaire my Lord !

-Bon anniversaire, mon amour…

-Joyeux anniversaire, père !

Hiccup sourit discrètement devant la surprise que lui avait concoctée sa femme. Elle avait réuni presque tous ses amis pour lui organiser une grande fête d'anniversaire. Le chef et le personnel s'étaient surpassés, faisant un des repas les plus délicieux qu'il n'ait jamais goûtés. La soirée avait duré jusqu'à tard dans la nuit, et après que le dernier invité fut parti, Hiccup et Astrid mirent leurs enfants au lit. D'habitude, c'était aux gouvernantes de s'en occupé, mais ce soir, exceptionnellement, ils s'en chargeaient. Ils mirent Nuffink au lit en premier, puis Zephyr et finirent par se retirer dans leur chambre. Ils se dévêtirent et Hiccup prit sa femme dans ses bras.

-Merci pour cette soirée, ma chérie.

-Le plaisir était pour moi. D’ailleurs, j'ai un autre cadeau pour toi.

-Ah oui ?

-Bien sûr, ce n'est rien d’exceptionnel, car c'est un cadeau… Comment dire… Que tu te procures souvent. Mais étant donné que tu as passé la nuit d'avant avec moi, peut-être que pour cette nuit, la première de ta trentième année, tu voudrais la passer avec ton palefrenier…

-Tu es sûr ?

-Bien sûr.

Elle frappa à la porte de sa domestique, dont la chambre était adjacente à la leur et Ingrid ouvrit. Jack était avec elle.

-Madame.

Astrid lui sourit et retourna voir son époux.

-Profite bien de ton cadeau, mon amour.

Ils s'embrassèrent en souriant et alors qu'Astrid rejoignait sa domestique dans sa chambre, Jack entrait dans celle des maîtres. Quand Astrid referma la porte, Jack courut vers Hiccup pour lui sauter dans les bras.

-Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour.

Il l'embrassa doucement et Hiccup l'amena sur le lit. Il le déshabilla tranquillement et lui fit l'amour tendrement. Une fois rassasié, Jack se colla dans ses bras.

-Tu es heureux ? Demanda Hiccup au bout d'un moment.

-Heureux ?

-D'être avec nous.

Jack se redressa un peu.

-Bien sûr, pourquoi cette question ?

-Parce que tu dois me partager avec ma femme…

-Ta femme t'aime, et je ne peux pas lui reprocher. Hiccup, avant, je faisais plaisir à toutes sortes de gens pour gagner ma vie, et il n'y avait pas que des enfants de chœur. La vie que tu m'offres est beaucoup mieux. Je n'ai plus à vendre mon corps pour pouvoir manger…

-J'aurais aimé le réussir à le faire avant.

-Eh, je suis encore jeune, contesta Jack. Je n'ai que vingt ans. J'ai encore de belles années devant moi. Et je vais les passer avec toi, et rien ne me ferait plus plaisir. Même si j'ai dû attendre douze ans, ça les valait. J'aurais attendu l'éternité pour être avec toi…

Il l'embrassa tendrement et Hiccup essaya de faire taire ses remords pour en profiter. C'était son anniversaire, après tout.

#Jour 15 : Victorian #hijack week #Hijack March Madness 2019 #day 15 #hijack #frostcup

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p-artsypants · 6 years ago

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The North Tower (11)- New Search

AO3 | FF.net

“I can’t find my body.” After ageless centuries, everyone else was now where they were supposed to be. And yet, poor Hiccup was left behind. That was plenty of a good reason to be upset.

His mother, Valka, was immediately present. “It’s alright, baby. We’ll find it.”

Mrs. Hofferson, also being motherly, asked the question out of habit. “Where was the last place you saw it?”

Hiccup gave her a look, and answered. “I was wearing it.”

Phillis shrank a little.

“Let’s go get some flashlights,” suggested Astrid. “The crypt was really dark.”

Hiccup nodded, optimistically. “Okay, yeah.”

So Astrid had her phone, and Eret went to get some other lights and extension cords. Then the group all headed back down the tower into the crypt.

With the new light, Astrid had a new chance to look into the room. First, the stone floor stretched out in front of her, before a column met her lights. Another column was not that far away. The tops ended with an arch, which repeated on and one several times into the back of the room. A very thin layer of water covered the floor, reflecting the columns and arches and creating an odd illusion of space.

Astrid frowned. “Where are the others? There was a bunch of…long dead bodies down here…wasn’t there?”

Stoick answered. “When the souls rejoined their bodies, they dissolved into dust. Time just caught up to them.”

“So in theory,” said Axel. “Any bones or remnants should be Hiccup.”

Hiccup shuttered. He hoped there was more than just a few bones left of his body. He was really rather hoping that he would be alive.

Axel and Phillis also turned on their cellphones and the group split as light spread out over the cave.

“Bring the light over here,” Astrid heard someone call.

“Did you find it?” Hiccup asked anxiously.

“…no, false alarm. It’s just a rock.”

Hiccup deflated.

“Well, it can’t just be gone!” Boomed Stoick. “Everyone else’s was here! Even if someone took it by accident, there would still be something here!”

Suddenly, the cavern filled with much brighter light from the door. Nearly everyone flinched heavily.

“Sorry,” stated Eret, standing behind a flood light. “I should have prepared you for that.”

With the crypt illuminated, the group spread out and scanned every inch of the floor.

After about an hour, almost everyone had given up. And yet Hiccup tried to feel along the floor for anything.

Astrid spoke from where she was leaning against a column. “Um, you said those who had left early…their bodies were decaying. Right?”

“Aye, it appears that way. Hamish, who was the first to leave after…oh, 200 years, he was just bone.”

Hiccup seemed to not notice the exchange as he sifted through the water on his hands and knees. “Hiccup?”

He paused.

“Didn’t you say…you were the first one to leave?”

Valka gasped, her hands flying to her lips. “Oh Odin, I forgot about that!”

Hiccup didn’t move from his spot on the floor, but asked in a very quiet voice. “How long was I gone, back then?”

“Nearly a hundred years,” Answered Stoick. “It was startling when you came back.”

“So if Hamish was just bone…” He began. But he didn’t finish. His fingers curled into fists, his knuckles pressing against the floor. “Is there nothing left of me?” His voice was just a whisper, full of only sorrow.

“Hiccup…” Astrid reached for him, but he leapt to his feet and turned on her.

“I don’t need your pity!” He screamed, his body shaking with anger and frustration. “I don’t need anything! Not…not a thing…” his anger was quickly spent, and his nearly tangible form began to fade. “I don’t even exist anymore…so why should I care?” He hurried from the room, and disappeared into his cell.

For a moment, no one knew what to say.

“That can’t be right,” said Phillis, “there’s mummies that are buried in graves like this, that are older. If this room was magically sealed, like Astrid thinks, then nothing should have gotten in to harm the body.”

Eret chimed in. “Even if Hamish’s body was a hundred years older, in these conditions, his would be here, too.”

As the adults discussed plans to search the rest of the castle inside and out, Astrid snuck back into the main tower, and knocked on Hiccup’s cell.

“Hiccup? It’s me, Astrid. Can I come in?”

When he didn’t answer, Astrid pushed the door open on her own and wandered in. The door closed behind her, leaving darkness in it’s wake. She felt around with her hands until she felt a slab of wood, a bed, and then finally a warm wall of air.

“Hiccup…”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He reprimanded.

“Like what?”

“Softly. Tenderly…It’s more than I can handle.”

She reached her hand up to where she assumed his head was, and felt his hair. It wasn’t hair exactly, more like the seaweed at the bottom of a clean lake. Too soft to feel like anything at all.

“I just…don’t know what to say. I want to help, but I don’t know what to say.” She sighed. “Your dad and the others are going to split up and check the rest of the castle.”

“If it was anywhere else, we would have found it by now.”

“You never know! The Druids hid this room away, what if there’s another hidden room? Hmmm?”

He didn’t respond more than a grunt, and she only continued to play with his hair.

“Astrid?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For everything. But I need to be alone right now.”

Astrid sighed, and pulled her hand away. “Okay. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Hiccup.” She smiled in comfort. “I understand. I’ll see you later, okay? Whenever you need to talk, you know where to find me.” She rose, and moved to the door.

She’d wondered if he’d be alright.

Days passed, and they were spent trying to get the vikings acclimated to the new world as well as getting the castle ready to host guests. The vikings happily continued their jobs as hired hands within the castle for room and board, with the only condition that they could come and go as they pleased. Most were just satisfied being able to go outside and work in the garden or build things (every day a new piece of furniture entered the castle). Others jumped at the chance to ride with Eret into town, amazed by how things had changed in world. And finally, a group went on a two week hiking trip through the national park to the South. Of course, they came home early with tickets for shooting and trapping wild life, but Astrid didn’t mind paying those off.

The Vikings discovered the internet, and branched out to learn new recipes to cook for the guests. Others wrote songs and practiced dances for entertainment, anything they could do to make the castle a retreat.

This was all done in motivation to thank their new boss.

However, at night, when things calmed down, everyone put in an hour or two to look for Hiccup’s body.

Days turned to weeks, with no sign of even a hair from Hiccup. Many Vikings gave up the search, thinking it was a fruitless endeavor. Yet, Stoick, Valka, Gobber and Astrid faithfully spent the evenings checking the crawl spaces, attics, and wine cellar for any sign of human remains. And as diligent as they were, still there was nothing. Hiccup himself, had resigned to never regaining his body. He had sighed one day and said, “I’ve been a ghost this long. It’s what I’m best at,” and then picked himself back up by his bootstraps. “I want everyone to stop wasting their time looking for something that doesn’t exist and instead live your lives. This is when you have the chance to do all the things you’ve always wanted to do. Don’t let me hold you back.”

Valka was quick to rush to him and cup his face. “We search because we love you. We want you to live too.”

He smiled at her. “Well…I’m not going to stop looking. I have 8 hours a day where everyone is sleeping. I’ll have to occupy myself somehow.”

So, everyone left him to it, and he showed no outward signs of the melancholy that gripped him so fiercely earlier.

Halloween came and went. Hiccup being the main source of entertainment and using his skills to wow and amaze their guests. The North Tower was decorated like a haunted house with fake skeletons that jumped out and scared people. The entrance was guarded by Toothless, who had remained in his gargoyle form, since Hiccup was still cursed. Those that made it to the end got candy. It was all very fun and quaint.

Revenue came pouring in after that. Folks from all over the UK started taking holidays to come stay at Hofferson castle for the weekend. The idea of staying at a haunted castle was too fun of an opportunity to pass it seemed, as more and more reservations came calling in. Everything seemed fine…

Until one day.

“Excuse me,” Astrid overheard a guest say to Stoick. “Are you the owner of the Castle?”

“No lass, that would be Ms. Hofferson.” He beckoned to her.

Astrid, putting on her customer service face, smiled at the woman. “Hello, what can I help you with?”

The guest furrowed her brow. “My sons really wanted to stay here for the weekend, and of course I jumped at the chance of a fun filled family weekend…but there was an incident last night. The castle isn’t really haunted…is it?”

Astrid crossed her arms. “What kind of incident?”

“My son Jacob heard weeping and moaning coming from our tower. It got louder and louder until…this thing came into our room. It was…hideous and gruesome.”

“What did it look like?”

“I think it was a man, but it was emaciated and the skin was just hanging on it. My older son Harry said it was just a hologram, but it responded to him.”

“What did it say?”

“It asked if it could have his body.”

Astrid winced and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was a busy Sunday, plenty of guests were checking in, while many more were checking out. She hadn’t even thought to check on Hiccup.

Stoick seemed to have the same idea. “I haven’t seen Hiccup all day. I’ll go see if I can find him.”

“Alright,” Astrid agreed. Then she returned to the woman, “How can I best make this up to you?”

“I would like a refund, please. My husband has a heart condition and that…thing didn’t bode well for him. We weren’t expecting to be scared in our own room.”

“I understand.” Astrid said with a disarming smile. “I can refund you, no problem.”

After that was taken care of, Stoick returned, not looking optimistic.

“Well, what is it?”

“No one has seen him. I checked his room, but nothing. I have the twins, Snotlout, and Fishlegs searching for him now.”

“It’s weird. He was fine not too long ago. I wonder what changed?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to act anymore.”

That was a heartbreaking thought.

Astrid had a thought, “what about Viggo?”

Stoick sneered. “What about him?”

“Is it possible that he did something with Hiccup’s body?”

Stoick grew silent and thoughtful. “I haven’t the slightest. But there is a way to find out.”

The next day, Astrid called the prison that Viggo had been sentenced too, while Stoick and Gobber listened over the speaker.

A woman answered, “Berwyn Men’s Prison.”

“Hello, my name is Astrid Hofferson. Is there a way to get in contact with a Prisoner just to ask them a question? We need his help locating something.”

“We offer a voicemail service. You can leave a message on a private line and the inmate will return your call.”

“That would be amazing!”

“Do you have the inmate ID number?”

Astrid blanched. “No, actually, I don’t.”

“Then the name?”

“Viggo Ryker.”

“Alright, may I put you on hold as I look that up?”

“Of course.”

Soothing music came over the speaker.

“What if Viggo doesn’t answer us back?” Asked Gobber, with good reason.

“Well, he did want the curse to be lifted. He might be more cooperative now.” Said Astrid.

“And if he puts up a fight, I’ll go down to the prison and knock some sense into him!” Threatened Stoick.

“Let’s not do that one.”

The line picked up and a man was on the line. “Are you still there Miss Hofferson?”

“Uh, yes!”

“My name is Dr. Jeffery Van Ravensway. I’m the director of this facility. Can I ask what your relationship with Viggo Ryker was?”

“Uh, acquaintance, I guess?”

“Do you know if he had any living relatives? Next of kin? Spouse?”

She glanced to Stoick, who shrugged. “Uh, not that we know of. Why?”

“Well, Mr. Ryker died last week. He listed no emergency contact information, so we didn’t know who to tell.”

“He died?” Astrid asked, surprised. “How? If you don’t mind me asking…” “It’s…very odd. We didn’t even get the chance to get an autopsy before the body dissolved.”

“What…?”

“He just….aged rapidly all of a sudden. We had him for mere months, but he went from looking in his late 20’s to ancient!”

“Did he say anything? Before he…?”

“Once he started aging, he started being really nice to everyone. When his psychiatrists asked him what was going on, he just said that someone had lifted his curse.” The man cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I believe in magic and curses, but that…I might just have to change my mind.” The man laughed a little over the line. “I’m sorry, this is incredibly unprofessional. Normally we don’t disclose this sort of information like this, but like I said, we have no contact for him. At least someone knows now.”

“Alright, if I find any family, I’ll be sure to pass on the information.”

“Thank you, Miss Hofferson. If they would like to call us here, we can explain everything.”

“Alright, thank you.”

“Good day.”

After she hung up, the small group sat in silence for a few minutes before Gobber declared, “well, that was a bust!”

Stoick scrunched up his mouth in thought. “Ya know, I don’t think Viggo did have anything to do with it. There wasn’t any time for him to get all the way down in the tower past all the guards…and for what? Just to steal one body? It doesn’t make sense anymore.”

“Yeah, now that you say it.” Astrid shrugged.

“It was a good thought.” Gobber offered, “a better lead then anyone else had.”

Yet, Astrid felt like it was a waste of time and hope.

As time passed, Hiccup remained missing, no matter how much begging and pleading his family did. Even in the middle of the night, when his moans echoed through the halls, Astrid would awake and call out to him. He would not respond.

It was one week after that, Fishlegs had a sudden realization. Everyone seemed to notice, as he let out a loud ‘oh!’ and banged the table as he stood suddenly.

“What is it Fishlegs?”

“I just had an idea where Hiccup’s body might be!”

Stoick stood suddenly as well. “What?! Where?!”

“The boat!”

It seemed like no one else followed. “What boat?”

“The boat! Our boat! The one we came on!”

Stoick frowned. “That boat probably sunk centuries ago. Who knows if there’s anything even left of it.”

“But what if that’s where Hiccup’s body is?!”

Stoick sighed, “Well, it is worth a dive, I suppose.”

“At this time of year?” Gobber finally spoke up. He stood and went to the window, pulling up the curtain and gesturing to the lake that surrounded the back half of the castle. Ice formed around the edges while chunks floated in the center. “Because I certainly don’t want to swim in that.”

Astrid thought a moment. “I might have an idea. Give me a minute.” And she took out her phone and flipped through her contacts.

The phone rang a few times before it connected.

“Hey Dale! How are you?”

The voice on the other line was unintelligible to the others siting in the library.

“Great! I’m calling because I remembered during dinner when you visited you spoke of a new hobby in scuba diving…would you be willing to get some practice over here at the castle lake? We’re looking for something…I mean, I suppose we could wait until summer, but we were hoping for as soon as possible…Oh I wouldn’t mind compensating you for it then. It looks kind of frigid out there. You have a wet suit, right?…Awesome! When are you free?…Friday afternoon. Awesome, we’ll see you then! Thanks so much!”

Friday afternoon rolled around, and Astrid waited anxiously for her cousin. She wandered over to the North Tower, pausing in the stairwell to stare at the statue.

“You’ve been here all this time. Watching. What do you know that we don’t?”

But being a statue, the man said nothing.

The heavy doorbell rang, and Astrid hurried from the tower.

In the lobby, Eret opened the door and let Dale in.

“Hey Astrid,” he greeted casually.

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” he smiled, “as long as you got your ghost problem solved.”

Astrid laughed sheepishly. “That’s the thing. It’s almost solved.”

Dale raised a single eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘almost’?”

“Well…there’s one we’re working on. That’s why I asked you here, actually.”

Dale crossed his arms, listening.

“In order for the ghost to move on, he has to get his body back. We’ve looked everywhere for it. The only place left is the lake. Specifically the wreckage of a viking ship right outside the North Tower.”

“Are you certain it’ll be there?”

Astrid could only shrug. “If it’s not, then…we have no idea where else it could be. This is literally our last resort.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility to put on a new character.”

“Yeah, I know, but we needed someone to go down there, and I don’t really want to trust a stranger with this…delicate situation.”

He nodded. “Ah, gotcha. Well, I brought up my fishing boat, too. Didn’t know if you had one. You’re welcome to come sit on the boat if you want. Don’t know how much fun it’ll be.”

“I was hoping I could sit on the boat. I’m kinda anxious.”

“Anxious it’ll be there? Or anxious that it won’t?”

Dale always had a way of pointing out things she hadn’t wanted to think about. “I…I don’t know.”

He simply nodded in understanding.

She shook her head. “Well, are you ready now then?”

“Yeah, I just need to get my suit on, and we can go out. You might want to get a jacket, it’s a bit chilly.”

And so the two motored out to the North Tower, where the wall showed where the castle had been breached. The bricks were patchy and mismatched the rest of the Tower.

“This should be the spot.” Astrid announced, peering in the water. “I have no idea how deep it is. Just be careful.”

Dale grinned, preparing his mask. “Oh, it’ll be fine. I’m just stoked to dive by a Viking shipwreck.” He checked his watch. “Alright. It’s 2 now. I have about enough air for an hour, but I like to come up at the 45 minute mark. I have this mesh bag to put any bones or treasure I might find.”

“I don’t think you’ll find any treasure after all these years.”

“Let me live a little,” He scolded. Carefully, he positioned himself on the edge of the boat. “Wish me luck.” And he dove in with a splash.

Once he disappeared, it became eerily silent. Only a faint rolling of waves on shore could be heard. A gust cold air rushed at her, chilling her right down to the bone, even with the coat, boats, hat, and gloves.

This was going to be a long hour.

Some 10 minutes later, Dale returned briefly. He said nothing, only heaved a ancient viking shield over the edge of the boat, and then dove right back down into the water.

The shield was rusty, and some of the wood had rotted, but most of it was still intact. Whatever it had been painted had faded with the salt.

Again, he returned long enough to surface and drop a sword on deck, then he disappeared. It was obvious he had found the wreck, now it was just a matter of him finding Hiccup’s remains.

Another 10 minutes passed, and then another. Then the 45 minute mark came, but he didn’t surface. Then close to an hour went by. Astrid swallowed nervously. What was taking him? Did he get stuck? Should she try to go in after him?

But only a minute later, Dale surfaced and grabbed onto the edge of the boat. He dropped his bag onto the deck, and then frantically tried to pull himself up, kicking and shaking the whole time.

Astrid acted immediately and yanked him up into the boat, while Dale removed his mask and goggles. He panted heavily and coughed.

“You okay?” Astrid asked.

He didn’t answer for a while, just threw his head back and sucked in several deep breaths. “I’m…I’m fine.” His tone conveyed otherwise. “Here, this is all I found.” He gestured to the mesh bag on the floor.

Carefully, Astrid opened it, only to reveal a skull.

“It’s all I could find.”

Astrid nodded. “But it is what we’re looking for. I think this will be enough. Thank you.” She smiled.

“Promise me…you won’t go down there by yourself.” He replied.

This confused Astrid. Didn’t he say it was going to be fine? “What?”

“I found the ship fine. It’s right down there. After I found the sword and shield, I travelled out a bit, and found a bunch of…statues.”

“Statues? What did they look like?”

He furrowed his brow. “It was kind of hard to tell, since they were worn, but they looked like…hooded people?”

Astrid’s eyes widened.

“They were really big. And…” He shivered as he reached for the towel. “Look, let’s go back to the castle, I don’t want to be anywhere near that…thing.”

“The statues?”

“No…those are the least of my concerns.” He crawled over and started the engine, then sped away from the Tower as soon as possible.

Not a word was spoken when they returned. Dale took off his wet suit and donated the sword and shield to the castle, and then prepared to leave.

“Wait? That’s it?” She asked. “You don’t want to stay for a bit? Gobber’s making a nice big dinner, and it’s at least an hour back to Manchester.”

Dale was quiet, then replied. “I’ll come again some day, when this ghost problem is solved.” And he headed to toward the door.

“Wait!” She begged. “Before you go…will you come look at something?”

He was skeptical, but followed her to the North Tower.

“Isn’t this the forbidden tower?” He asked, before daring to step foot into the hall.

“It was, but the curse is…mostly lifted.” At the other end of the hall, Astrid opened the door, showing the statue in all it’s splendor. “So…did the statues look like this?”

Dale nodded. “Yeah, for the most part. Maybe a little smaller. There was several, and they were laid out in a grid.” He glanced down to see that she had brought the skull with her down here. “You gonna see if that works?”

“Yeah,” she stated, setting the bone on the ground. She took several steps back, and then called out. “Hiccup! Hiccup, we think we found your remains! Come out!”

It was quiet for a moment, before Stoick, Valka, and Gobber came rushing down the hall. “We heard ya shouting lass! Did ya really find es bones?!”

“A skull, at least. But it should be enough.”

A glowing vapor appeared, rolling in like a cloud, until it took a visible form of a boy. Of Hiccup. He said nothing.

“Look,” Astrid pointed. “Is that your skull? Is that you?”

Hiccup reached down and grasped the skull in his wispy hands. He stared into the sockets, like he was trying to remember an old friend. Then, he dropped it, letting it crack upon the cement.

“I don’t know those eyes.” He said, before disappearing.

Dale huffed, and turned on his heel. “Well, I got nothing. And I’m not going back in that Bay. Good luck Astrid.” And he hurriedly left before she could stop him.

Astrid just continued to stare at the skull with a shattered dome. Of course it seemed too good to be true. She shook her head and retreated herself.

Who was she kidding? It was hopeless.

That night, Astrid laid awake in bed, staring at the fire. It was back to day one, with more questions without answers. And this time, her Hiccup was suffering alone.

Her Hiccup? Where had that come from?

She rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

Her feelings for Hiccup had been in a delicate state. She knew what the answer was, ever since he told her that he loved her, they had only ground stronger, even though she tried to stomp them into the dust. Hiccup was just too good of a match for her. It seemed that she was destined to fall in love with him, but never be with him.

Talk about Star-crossed lovers.

She didn’t matter anymore. The wasn’t about getting her happily ever after. This was about Hiccup being about to move on. And once he did, she would too.

So putting her fickle heart to the side, she contemplated what had happened this afternoon with Dale. Especially those damn hooded statues.

Why have so many in the Bay, and only one in the tower?

At this rate, she wouldn’t get any sleep, and so she kicked off her covers and wandered down to the Library. Her phone read 4am, which was a good thing if she wanted to think alone.

But she wasn’t alone, because shortly after she arrived, a wisp billowed in through the wall.

“Oh! Hiccup! Sorry, you startled me.”

The vapor just floated around the room, lacking the strength or focus to take a more finite form.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon, I really thought we had found your body.”

The wisp came closer, circling her.

“Won’t you say something? I haven’t gotten to speak with you for so long…I really miss you, you know?” She reached her hands out, feeling the warmth he left in her skin as he passed by. She let out a sigh, and then made a risky move. “If you want…you can use my body.” Then she immediately blushed after it was said.

Hiccup disappeared from her sight, and convulsion racked her body. Her toes curled as a pleasant heat settled in her chest. Her arms raised, not on her own command, and wrapped around her in a hug. She collapsed onto the settee feeling weak and confused.

Then overwhelming pain took her. A pain of loss and heartbreak, of hopelessness and despair. She knew they were from Hiccup, and she gladly shouldered them, if only to ease his mind.

“You’re safe with me.” She whispered. “I promise, I’ll set you free.”

Then all of a sudden, all the foreign feelings within her disappeared. As she opened her eyes, she found Hiccup, in a more recognizable form, looking at her with something akin to adoration.

“Thank you…I think I can last a little bit longer now.”

Astrid answered breathlessly. “What…did you do?”

“You let me use your body, just for a moment. And that was all I needed to ground myself. It was like…waking up, and now I’ve gone back to sleep again. I was able to breathe and I felt your heart beat. And there’s no one I would have rather shared that moment with….than you.” He leaned and left a whisper of a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

Astrid smiled at him, embarrassed and flattered. “Of course, I’m glad it helped…In all honesty, I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve been thinking…”

“Is that why you’re up so late?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep. See, earlier, my cousin Dale dove in the bay to see if he could find your body. He found that skull, and along with it, there were a bunch of statues, like the one in the North Tower.”

“Oh really?”

“He said they’re laid out in a grid. What do you think it means?”

He settled on the settee next to her, crossing his legs. “Well…it kind of sounds like a cemetery. But it was a bay when we came here. So there’s no way to know.”

“I thought about it being a cemetery too. Maybe those statues are grave markers.”

“Makes sense.” He nodded. “There were a lot of dead bodies in the Tower. Maybe the druids were just showing respect.”

“To intruders?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Why else?”

Astrid was quiet for a moment, before she jerked upright suddenly. “We’re all idiots!”

Hiccup stared at her, “umm?”

“How do you show where a body has been put away?”

“By…a…grave…marker?” He answered carefully.

Astrid leapt to her feet, and ran from the room. Hiccup, curious and concerned was hot on her tail. She threw open the door to the hall, then to the Tower.

The statue stood before her. Taunting her.

Hiccup caught up to her. “Was I right?”

Astrid studied the highly detailed stone man in front of her. There had to be a trick to it. A handle or a switch…something. “Come on, where is it?”

“What?”

Astrid didn’t answer. She only walked quick steps down to the armory.

“Astrid, what are you doing?”

“It was right in front of us the whole time!” She pulled open the door and scanned the shelves. The axe she used that night trapped in the tower laid on the floor, a thin layer of dust taking root. She took it, not even slowing down, and turned back to the stairs.

“Wait!” Hiccup called. “Don’t do anything brash!”

But Astrid ignored him, as she hurried to the back of the hall. “I’m ending this now! Stay out of my way!” Then she bolted into a sprint, running full speed at the rusty bars.

“Astrid!”

She leapt, pushing off of the railing with one foot, and became airborne. A shout ripped from her throat as her stomach fell to the bottom of the Tower. The face of the statue rapidly approached her, and she buried her axe in the stone.

Immediately, the stone started to crumble under her blade. She began to slip, and found purchase with her feet in the arms. Once she was stable, she ripped the axe out of it’s place and hacked at it again. A chunk of stone fell and she halted.

A new face, one of flesh and bone, laid before her. A familiar, handsome face, that she often fell asleep looking at above her mantle.

Astrid turned and looked over her shoulder where Hiccup’s ghost stood, frozen. She smiled at him and turned back around. Careful not to fall, she touched his cold, solid skin carefully.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she whispered. “But I finally found you. And I know now…” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his frozen lips, savoring the feeling.

Before she even pulled away, there was a long cracking sound and the pillar began to quake. Unable to do anything else, Astrid clung to Hiccup.

“Hiccup!” She screamed for help, but his spirit was no where to be found.

The pillar shook violently as the foundation crumbled and together they fell.

“I’ve got you!”

But when they hit the ground, it was a lot less painful than she had expected. The ruble of the statue had returned to what it once was, gold, silver, and precious gems. The treasure the vikings were after when they raided. But she didn’t care much about it, as Hiccup’s motionless body laid within her arms, just barely breathing. “Hiccup? Are you still…?”

He opened his eyes faintly. “Astrid…?”

“Yes! Yes Hiccup! I’m here!” She hugged him fiercely. “I’m with you…”

His hands wrapped around her, and hugged her as well. “I’m sorry, I’m really weak…”

She kissed his forehead, “I don’t care…I thought I’d have to say goodbye…” She absently wiped her wet cheek. “Or maybe I wouldn’t even get the chance to do that.”

“I would have said goodbye, don’t worry.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek. “But I don’t have to. I’d love to stay with you, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course!” she choked. “I love you.”

Hiccup smiled warmly in adoration. “You do? Really?”

She kissed him again, letting her lips linger against his just because she could. “I do. And nothing in 18 lifetimes could make me stop.”

#hiccup horrendous haddock iii #hiccup #how to train your dragon #httyd #GHOST AU #haunted castle #hiccstrid #astrid #Astrid Hofferson #toothless #modern au #romance #horror #fanfiction #fanfic

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aleteia-ff · 5 years ago

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A note from deep, deep down into the rabbit hole:

Rewriting lyrics from Frozen 2′s Show Yourself to fit to an AU of The Phantom of the Arena in which Hiccup didn’t come back. Instead, its a grown-up Hamish who finds Phantom!Hiccup many years later on the Red Death’s Island, still fighting. Emotions ensue.

I’m such a lost cause, but I love it too much.

#actually considering writing this as an au of an au #gods help me #phantomverse #phantomcup #hamish hofferson #hamish #phantom!hiccup #httyd #hiccup

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aleteia-ff · 5 years ago

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Can you tell us more about Hamish Hofferson? I know you are thinking about a sequel, but I am already in love with him. Is there anything you can tell us, without giving too much away? (Btw, I found pota two days before you posted the last chapter. I dont think I stopped reading. My only breaks where work and sleep. I was super sad that the last chapter wasnt out yet, went to your tumblr to see if you had updates etc. and ,booom, link to the last chapter. I was so freaking happy! )

Hey Anon, I waited a bit with answering this ask until there was a safe amount of time from the publication of the final chapter. I hope you don’t mind! Didn’t want to spoil people ^^ Love hearing that you binged it, that’s such a compliment!

Spoilers for Phantom of the Arena below!

I know, Hamish… He’s everything. It’s such an adorable little guy and he makes it terribly hard not to fall completely in love with him. And yes, I can share some headcanons I have about him as a baby/little kid!

Hamish’s first word is ‘mama’

Mini-Toothless is Hamish’s favourite toy, by far. When he gets older, he carries it everywhere. He likes to pretend he has to take care of the dragon like he knows his father does with the real Toothless.

He loves dragons in general, even though he has never really seen one; Astrid has told him lots of stories about them, and about his father, and he loves to go through Hiccup’s Book of Dragons to look at the pictures and read the few words he can read already

He is slightly small for his age (although not as small as Hiccup was), but he’s very fast regardless and seems to have inherited some of Astrid’s athleticism. He’s an active child and very prone to running away as he simply wants to explore everything around him, and he hasn’t managed to find every hidden corner of Berk yet. Astrid no longer has to do cardio workout as a result; Hamish keeps her busy enough.

Only time he sits still and stays silent is when he’s drawing, or when he sits in with grandpa Stoick at village meetings, even if he doesn’t really understand what’s going on, he wants to, he knows grandpa’s job is important after all

Life on Berk got a lot harder the day Hamish learnt how to ask the question “why?”

He develops the habit of gesturing with his hands a lot when he talks, which both melts and breaks Astrid’s heart

He loves to get to high places and frequently climbs on things only to jump back off later. It gives Astrid a heart-attack every time, and even though Hamish broke his leg when he was 3, he didn’t exactly get more careful.

He’s best friends with Snotlout & Ruffnut’s daughter, Solveig, and they often play together while Uncle Tuffnut babysits them. He thinks Tuffnut is really cool.

Gosh I just love him so much.

#hamish hofferson #phantom of the arena #asks #hamish #Anonymous

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aleteia-ff · 5 years ago

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Also, you absolutly nailed toddler/kids logic. “I wanna be a dragon, so I should eat raw fish“ like, yes, I have witnessed children thinking like that, and its so fucking funny

Hahaha, that makes me really happy to hear! I find children quite hard to write, because I have hardly any practical experience with them myself, especially at that age. So I hope I’ll be able to get Hamish right :)

#hamish hofferson #phantom #phantomverse #pota #asks #phantom of the arena #thank you anon!#Anonymous

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aleteia-ff · 5 years ago

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1000 followers! | The Phantom of the Archipelago - Sneak Preview

Ohhh, yes!

Thank you, everyone, for your support. This week, I passed the milestone of 1000 Tumblr followers. I have only been on this website for 11 months by now and the amount of love and support I’ve received from this community, the people I’ve gotten to know... I’m so happy I joined! <3

Now, because you guys make me so happy, I want to do something back. And since a lot of you probably started following me because of The Phantom of the Arena, I wanted it to be related to that fic. And although I’m still working on building enough buffer of it’s sequel, The Phantom of the Archipelago, before I actually start posting, I figured I could at least share the draft of one scene from one of the first chapters.

To say it’s a major scene would be an understatement.

Obviously, spoilers below the Keep Reading line ;)

And just a reminder that my ask box is always open! I might take some time to answer them, but in the end I always will. And I will try my hardest to work through some of the asks still in there.

You can also always find me on Discord in the #aleteias-fics channel!

Hiccup let his gaze wander towards the far side of the island, intuitively scanning Berk’s dense forests for the little clearing in the middle of the trees. For the place he’d loved, and had later come to hate because of how his father had tainted it. But when his eyes found the all-too-familiar spot with ease, he decided that it wouldn’t be that bad to revisit after all.

He nudged Toothless to glide downwards, the two of them staying low and circling the cliffs before soaring over the treetops. Not that anyone was ever looking towards the sky the way Hiccup did, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Especially on a clear and sunny day like this.

Or perhaps that had changed too over the past couple of years.

Toothless warbled happily when they descended into the cove. Hiccup rolled his eyes, patting the dragon’s neck. “As if you didn’t know where we were going already. You’re flying this thing too, remember?”

They circled around to confirm they were indeed alone, and then skimmed over the pond, the tips of Toothless’ wings just breaking the water’s surface. Hiccup took off his right glove, leaning sidewards to let his scarred fingertips trail through the fresh water, sending a shiver down his spine. He released the straps that secured his feet to the pedals, readying himself to dismount. He didn’t use the straps that often these days, but they were a welcome safety measure when spying on villages, hanging from a cliff. Although he’d definitely let himself drop on purpose a few times, as an excuse to use his own wings.

It was all about danger assessment. And after eleven years of flying, there wasn’t much that could surprise him anymore.

He yelped when that thought was immediately proven wrong as Toothless made an abrupt tight turn, sending him flying all on his own. He realised reaching for his wings was futile just before he hit the water with a loud splash!.

He gasped as he came back up for air, frantically looking around from behind the hair stuck to his forehead in search of an explanation. And broke into a chuckle when he caught sight of his drenched dragon, wading towards him with a proud, gummy smile.

“Good to see at least one of us hasn’t grown up since we first ‘flew’ together all those years ago,” he teased.

Toothless moved one of his wings, but Hiccup ducked under water, avoiding the retaliatory splash, throwing water right back at his best friend when he came back up.

They continued to wrestle and tease each other, both of them somehow ending up even more drenched than before, until Hiccup decided he was done and swam towards the shore. Toothless gave his best Scauldron impression as his rider got out, almost making him fall flat on his face when the water hit his back. He stuck out his tongue towards the dragon, removed his helmet, and shook his head, getting rid of most of the water as he took apart Inferno, confirming none of its vital parts had been soaked. Some of it needed oiling - and he couldn’t wait to get around to that - but not like this.

He looked around, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips as he surveyed the cove. It was exactly like he remembered. Frozen in time, the only thing that had changed in the past eleven years the removal of the shield he’d clumsily lodged between two rocks at its entrance, and of course, his remembrance stone.

In honour of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Berk’s Bravest Dragon Killer

He found he no longer minded the text. Because it was finally true. And if people chose to remember him for killing that one dragon that had tormented them for so many generations, then he’d settle for that. It was a lot better than being remembered as a Viking-hating terrorist, he supposed.

He sat back against the stone, comfortably leaning against it as Toothless continued to splash around behind him.

“It feels good to be here again,” he murmured to himself. “Now that the memories are no longer tainted, and I can just… Enjoy them.”

He remembered it all like it was only yesterday. How he’d been both scared and then incredibly excited to find Toothless there on that first day, wondering why the dragon was sticking around before he’d spotted his missing tail, instantly realising he’d done that and, more disturbingly, that he felt incredibly sorry for it.

How they’d locked eyes from a distance, and how that look had stayed with him from that moment on. Prompting him to seek out the dragon again the next day and end up swallowing a way too large bite of slimy, raw, regurgitated fish.

It had only been uphill from there… All the afternoons he’d spent in the cove, observing Toothless, learning who he was and interacting with him, closing that gap bit by bit until it had felt no more than simply right - although still thoroughly nerve-wracking - to extend his palm towards the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. And how his entire world had changed when Toothless had pressed his snout against it.

He trailed the scars on his face with his left hand, once again mapping out every line as if he hadn’t already memorised them long ago. He’d been through a lot since he’d met Toothless. Lost a lot. But it was the one thing he’d do again, and again, no matter how many new attempts at life he might get. Because he couldn’t imagine a world without his best friend in it.

“I love you, Bud,” he told the dragon, who warbled a ‘I love you too’ in return.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face as he waited for his hair and armour to dry, allowing himself to slightly doze off. He went back to those first attempts at getting Toothless back into the air, at all the failures they’d gone through before they’d actually made it out of the cove. Let alone gone for an actual flight, the first of which had gone anything but smoothly. But he’d enjoyed every second of it. The wind on his face, the saltiness of the sea in his nostrils, the two people shouting in the distance…

His eyes flew open and he put up his hand. Toothless instantly stopped moving, not a sound in the air for a mere moment. And then he heard it. A clear, audible “Wait up!”, echoing through the forest. Louder than before.

Coming towards them.

“Hide!” he hissed at Toothless as he scrambled to his feet, the distance between them too big for them to reconnect and fly away unseen. He sprinted after his dragon, the two of them disappearing behind a boulder in the back end of the cove. He snuck a look over his shoulder, spotting a figure at the top of the cove’s entrance.

A child.

He held his breath, peeking from the shadows, but the kid didn’t seem to have seen him, or the large black dragon currently breathing down his neck. Good. Now he just had to get out of here unseen as well.

“Hey, H!” - Hiccup’s heart skipped a beat, before he realised the kid’s name probably started with an H - “Not so fast!” he heard, coming from the forest once again.

He furrowed his brows, a surprised whisper escaping him. “Tuffnut?”

“I can do it myself!” the child - a boy - shouted back before he started to make his way down the cliff at the cove’s entrance.

“I know you can, but your mother will kill me if I let you,” the man repeated, and surely, Tuffnut Thorston appeared at the top of the cliff, gesturing at the boy, who was climbing down a lot faster than Hiccup would have assumed a child his size could.

“Tuffnut has a son?” he murmured, but Toothless just huffed, also clueless. “Kid doesn’t look much like him.”

Based on his length, the boy couldn’t be older than four, five at best. So he’d likely been born after the Phantom had left Berk. He searched his memory, wondering if he’d ever seen Tuffnut with a woman whose hair remotely resembled the kid’s unruly mop of auburn. He’d seen Tuffnut with many children today and yesterday, but when it came to a wife, he came up empty-handed.

“I didn’t think he even liked women to begin with,” he confessed, grinningly recalling the time Tuffnut had unknowingly flirted with the Phantom. “Guess we learn something new every day.”

“Then I want to fly down,” the boy insisted, pausing on the edge of one of the rocks, leaning forward and peering down in a way that made Hiccup’s stomach churn.

Tuffnut caught up with him, grabbing the boy’s arm and gently pulling him back. “You can’t fly. You’re not a dragon.”

“But I want to be a dragon!”

Tuffnut knelt down, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “And I will still love you even if your breath smells like rotten fish, Little Hamster. But if you want to fly, you should grow some wings first.”

“So I should eat more raw fish?”

Hiccup grinned. Clever boy.

“No, then you’ll get sick, and we don’t want that, now do we?” The boy shook his head, his hair flopping around. “Although between you and me, it’s probably not that much worse than your mom’s cooking.”

“Berkian women and being bad cooks. Name a better duo,” Hiccup chuckled. He’d understood from his dad that his mom hadn’t been stellar, and Astrid surely couldn’t be called remotely talented either. He thought back to the fish stew she’d once tried to make, and instantly felt sympathy for Tuffnut’s situation.

The boy laughed loudly. “I’m gonna tell Mum you said that!”

“Go ahead, snitch,” Tuffnut teased, poking the boy’s chest. “I can take her on any day.”

The boy shook his head. “You can’t! No one can!”

“Are you doubting my mighty Thorston blood? There’s ‘Thor’ in my name for a reason, you know!” Tuffnut caught the boy in his arms, tickling him. “Are you, huh?”

“Stop!” the boy laughed, swatting at his father. “Uncle Tuff!”

Or not his father, then.

Hiccup bit his lip. Perhaps he was one of Ruffnut’s, then? But he thought he’d seen Snotlout with a girl of about the same age as the boy… Twins, then? They did run in the Thorston family, after all. Or perhaps they were siblings who weren’t that far apart, and one of them looked a lot older or younger than they actually were.

He felt he should leave, that he was peeking at something private, something he shouldn’t see. But he simply couldn’t. Instead, he quietly retrieved one of his Changewing skins and hung it over his head, allowing him to blend in with his surroundings and creep forward so he could get a better look. Behind him, Toothless warbled curiously, but he nudged the dragon back with his foot, telling him it wasn’t safe enough.

“Alright, wait here,” Tuffnut told the boy before he climbed down the remaining rocks, opening up his arms when he reached the bottom. “Ready when you are!”

The boy leapt forward, landing in Tuffnut’s arms. He spun the two of them around, keeping the boy high up in the air, making him squeal in delight until he finally put him down, Tuffnut visibly swaying on his feet as he tried to regain his balance.

Hiccup could see the comedic duo more clearly now. Tuffnut was still wearing his usual disorganised combination of a tunic, vest and lustrous assortment of spiked accessories. The boy was dressed way more conservatively, in a dark red tunic, half of it tucked into a pair of brown pants, the other half unintentionally hanging out, a leather satchel with the crest of Berk on it slung over his shoulder. Hiccup had always had good eyes - Astrid had noticed he could make out certain details from high up in the air, while she couldn’t - allowing him to spot the smattering of freckles on the bridge of the boy’s small nose, the tips of his big ears peeking through his copper hair and his forest green eyes, which curiously taking in his surroundings.

In a way, the boy struck him as oddly familiar. Then again, he had likely once met a Thorston who looked just like him, given how colourful and diverse - not just mentally - the family was. Tuffnut and Ruffnut were rather tame by comparison. Or so he’d been told, by enough sources to make the stories believable.

“Go on,” Tuffnut gestured in front of him as he sat down in the grass. “We’re here for you, after all.”

The boy adamantly shook his head. “Not for me. For Daddy.”

“Because you want to talk to him, Hamish,” Tuffnut pointed out.

Hamish. Huh. Hiccup could understand that name becoming fashionable again after he’d personally destroyed the portraits of his ancestors, Hamish I and Hamish II, five years ago. But it seemed like such an usual name for Ruffnut and Snotlout to give to their son. Especially if he was their firstborn son; then he was Snotlout’s heir… It’d be more logical for him to be named in the -lout tradition, but perhaps they had wanted to give off a clear sign by naming him after the great Haddock Chiefs, who had been defiled by their actual descendant.

How un-Thorstonly political.

The boy nodded and slowly walked forward to the edge of the pond, looking down and fidgeting with his hands. Eventually, he stopped in front of Hiccup’s remembrance stone, a bright lop-sided smile spreading across his face. “Hey Daddy.”

Hiccup furrowed his brows, because all of this was only making less and less sense the longer he watched. Was the boy’s father dead? And had his stone become a place to go to to think of other dead, or presumed-dead, people? Or those who simply weren’t around?

“Mama’s not here, but she said it’s okay if I go alone,” the boy - Hamish - continued.

Only to be corrected by Tuffnut. “If someone else goes with you!”

Hamish huffed, looking at Tuffnut. “But I know the way!”

“And you can go alone when you’re older. Until then, you can show an adult how to get here whenever you want,” Tuffnut quipped.

“I’m old enough,” Hamish insisted.

“I disagree. And so does your mother. And while she’s not the boss of me, she’s certainly the boss of you.”

Hamish frowned angrily, but Tuffnut simply grinned at him in response. “So what did you want to say to your dad?”

The boy wavered for a moment, his brows furrowed as he seemed to be thinking, but then his face opened up into a wide smile. He fumbled with his satchel, retrieving something black from it, and walked closer to the stone, proudly holding it up. Hiccup squinted, trying to make out what it was. And then the boy spoke.

“Look, Daddy, I brought Mini-Toothless!”

He only vaguely heard how Toothless purred in response to his name. Because right then, the ground underneath him disappeared, and the entire world along with it. Until there was nothing left but that boy, and the little statuette he held in his hands.

Of a Night Fury.

Which he’d carved and painted for Astrid as a Snoggletog present over five years ago.

“Mummy told me to take care of him while she’s gone -”

The boy’s mother was gone.

He’d given that statuette to Astrid.

And Astrid was gone too.

That boy was Astrid’s son.

But he didn’t have her beautiful blonde hair, her gorgeous blue eyes, her adorable but slightly oversized ears - no, he did have those, so Hamish could be hers, but then where did he get the rest? Hiccup thought she’d waited for him, that she…

“- like you take care of real Toothless!”

You.

The boy was talking to his father.

Who probably had auburn hair, and a pair of green eyes.

Who wasn’t there.

Whose dragon, named Toothless, was worriedly nudging Hiccup’s side, sensing his rider’s distress.

The boy was talking to him.

Because he was his father.

He hardly heard what the boy - Hamish, his son, named after his ancestors - said after that. He simply stared, unable to move, his breath coming out in short pants. Hamish rambled, his tiny hands moving along as he talked, as if this was completely ordinary to him, as if Hiccup’s - as if his father’s - world wasn’t completely falling apart at that very moment. Because it didn’t make sense.

How?

How…?

How!?

He crumbled to the ground, pressing his hands to his ears, because he couldn’t listen, because this wasn’t happening. The Gods were playing a trick on him, or his mind was, yet again. He was seeing things, hearing things, deluding himself into picturing something that wasn’t there. That didn’t exist, that wasn’t true, because it couldn’t be true. He would’ve known if Astrid had been pregnant, he would’ve known if he was a father, she would have told him, he would have felt it.

It couldn’t be real. But no matter how often he pinched himself, they didn’t go away. The boy, Tuffnut, and the tiny wooden Night Fury stayed where they were. He wanted to flee, but he couldn’t, they would see him, and he didn’t know what happened if delusions spotted the person who was deluding them, not that that thought made much sense -

Oh Gods.

Oh, Gods.

He turned his eyes towards the sky, trying to snap himself out of it, to focus on anything but the scene in front of him. But the sun moved too slowly, and time along with it, so he wasted away, waiting, praying, asking the Gods what they’d brought down on him this time, until finally, his nightmarish visions left.

After scoldingly calling out the boy’s full name, Tuffnut picked him up, and, although reluctantly, the boy eventually stopped struggling, keeping Mini-Toothless clutched to his chest as Tuffnut carried him towards the cove’s exit. They exchanged some words, and the boy waved in the direction of the pond.

Hiccup only just prevented himself from waving back.

He couldn’t banish the boy’s name from his mind. Not even after he and Tuffnut had left, and Hiccup had jumped on Toothless’ back. Not even after they took to the air, the wind in his face not waking him up like he’d hoped it would.

So he simply flew West. Hoping to go back to the nightmare he’d come from. The one he was familiar with, the one he could deal with. Because he couldn’t handle this one.

Hamish Hofferson.

#phantom2 #phantom #phantom of the arena #pota #pota2 #phantomverse #phantomcup au #hiccstrid #hiccup #phantom!hiccup au #aleteia-writes #i would die for hamish hofferson #tuffnut #uncle tuff #uncle tuffnut

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