Chapter Text
Hiccup trudged his way inside the Great Hall, worried about how Gobber would react from the night before. The huge building felt humid because of the many lamps and hearths scattered throughout its floor plan.
With his head down and footsteps light, the Dragonwalker made his way to the line for breakfast. Hiccup faced no encounters until he had begun to sit down at an empty table, his seat suddenly missing as he crashed to the floor. He yelped in surprise as he looked up to find the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, standing above him.
“…Seriously?” The Dragonwalker grumbled, using his unbitten arm as a prop for himself as he pulled himself up.
“We want answers, Hiccup.” Snotlout said, coming up from behind the twins. Hiccup raised a brow towards his cousin, who also had Fishlegs and Astrid in tow. “About what?” The boy sniffed. He failed to lift up the fallen stool with his foot, and scoffed before leaning back down to pick it up. That, of course, led to Tuffnut casually hitting his hand into the back of Hiccup’s head, causing the Dragonwalker’s jaw to be slammed against the stool painfully. “G’ah- why would you do that?!” Hiccup cried, clutching his jaw. “I’ll give you answers-”
“Then tell us what in the Beard of Thor happened yesterday!” Snotlout interrupted calmly—or, at least what he thought was calm despite his voice quickly escalating—and Hiccup sighed, letting go of his jaw despite the fact it still throbbed.
“-if you stop pestering me.” The Dragonwalker finished, slouching his shoulders and looking at the ajar doors of the Great Hall, the sun higher up in the sky than he thought it’d be. “Shit. I’m going to be late to work!” Hiccup hissed, lunging forward and scooping a large bite of his tasteless breakfast into his mouth. He was thankful that today was a weekend, and, therefore, he didn’t have Dragon Training.
“So’y, guy’d, I godda go,” He said between bites, weaving his way out from the crowd of rowdier teens. “See ya domo’ow!”
…
“Morning, Gobber!” Hiccup said, trying to hide his nervousness with a cheery voice. He slid his fur vest off his shoulders and reached for his apron.
“Morn’, Hiccup.” Gobber said, pausing his rekindling of the forge with a large bellows to let the scrawny teen take over. Once the Dragonwalker had his apron’s strings tied together and reached for the bellows to take over, Gobber had begun a rant about his perspective from the previous night.
“Ey, I was walkin’ down to my hut from the smithy when I ‘erd there were someth’n goin on in yer home last night, kiddo. When I came to check-er out, there were an ent’re NIGHT FURY! In yer ROOM, HICCUP! Righ’ by yer back door, that beast. It saw me an’ broke down that door before bolt’n. I can’ believe ya din’t wake up, wi’ how loud that thing was.”
“Hahaaa… Me neither, Gobber! We—ah, I mean, uhm—I guess that Zippleback thing, uh, took a lot of effort out of me…!” Hiccup stammered, avoiding eye contact with the prosthetic-bearing man, who had begun to melt down destroyed weapons from the dragon raid that happened a week-or-so before.
“D’ya think it were that Fury ya said ye shot down durin’ the last raid? I bet he had tried to kill ya for payback.”
Hiccup froze and drew his hands toward his chest as he tried to find the words. “…I don’t know. I never… never ended up finding him, so, uhm, maybe?” The Dragonwalker said, his last few words a string of mumbling as he struggled to keep his composure while he lied. Gobber made a face, then sighed. “Keep the flame alive, Hiccup!” He ordered as he continued his work. “Yes, Gobber.” Hiccup gulped, reaching for the bellows once more.
…
Days flew by quickly. When he was awake, Hiccup worked the shop, participated in Dragon Training—where his experiences with Toothless came in handy—and spent the rest of his free time designing or testing the flying rig for his Night Fury friend. And when his human body was asleep, Hiccup would sneak out of the village and return to the cove to learn how to use his Night Fury powers.
Barely anything interesting happened for days—weeks, even.
At least, not until a small trade ship docked in the harbor.
Hiccup was sewing together a strap for his pedals when he heard the news. “Hey! Someone just docked!” One of the villagers exclaimed from outside. “REALLY?!” Gobber yelled from his own office before the Dragonwalker heard him limping outside, and Hiccup slid his project behind his crate of notebooks, careful to not lose his sewing needle, then following suit.
On that ship were three people; two adult men and one girl, who was probably a few years younger than Hiccup.
Gobber had recognized one of the men as ‘Bill Goodfellowe,’ a renowned hunter and dragon slayer from an allied tribe. Could he be that girl’s father? Hiccup thought when he had first seen Goodfellowe, who had the same shade of blonde hair and blue eyes as the girl.
She was adorned with an oversized green tunic with long sleeves and fashioned her blonde hair into two loose braids. Hiccup wasn’t close enough on the dock to really pick apart her appearance, but one thing stuck out to him.
The sleeve on her left arm was torn just below her elbow, and on her forearm was a weird—almost glittering—discoloration on her skin, along with an irritated looking wound.
Could it be…? Hiccup thought, carefully rolling up his left sleeve. Black Night Fury scales dotted along where his bite wound was slowly healing. When he had told Toothless about the scales, Toothless replied with:
“The only thing that can give away a Dragonwalker when awake is their bite scar, which has scales sealing the wound.”
The teen refused to believe it. Had he found another Dragonwalker, so soon after he had become one too? He let the sleeve down, sighing.
Hiccup carefully wormed his way through the gaggle of Vikings carrying crates of trade goods, tumbling out as he tripped from a gap between the planks.
“Ah! Hiccup, have you met Goodfellowe and his daughter, Robyn?” Gobber said, skipping over the fact that the chief’s son had his face flat on the ground. Hiccup shot up and chuckled sheepishly. “No sir, I haven’t. Hello, Mr. Goodfellowe and Robyn. I’m, uh…” He paused, looking at Robyn’s forearm for a split moment before continuing. “My name is Hiccup, and I’m Gobber’s apprentice. Ah… It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you.” The Dragonwalker finished, bowing his head slightly.
Goodfellowe let out a hearty laugh. “Hello, lad.”
Robyn bowed her head in the same way that Hiccup just had, then said, “Thank you for coming this way to greet us.”
“D’ah, it’s no big deal. How—uhm, how long are the three of you going to stay here on Berk?” Hiccup stammered. “What was it again, father? About two weeks?” Robyn glanced at her father. “Aye, lass, two weeks.” He nodded.
“Two weeks… okay. Uh, if you don’t already have housing, my dad’s been sailing for a few days and I’m the only one there. We have plenty of space to spare, so I’m sure the three of you can hunker down at my place, or… something.”
The girl looked up at Goodfellowe in anticipation.
“…Well, alright then. Robyn, love, you hold onto our things and follow Hiccup to his house. Sean and I will go with Gobber and make sure our tradables make it to the Great Hall.”
“Of course, father.” Robyn obliged, reaching for Goodfellowe’s personal bag with her unbitten arm.
The teenagers eventually split off from the others, and when they reached the hill to his estate, Hiccup slowed down and looked at the blonde-headed girl. “…The bite. Does anyone know?” He murmured, taking Goodfellowe’s bag—which was heavier than he expected—from the girl. Robyn stopped in her tracks, reaching for her scale-speckled forearm.
“I…” She breathed, and Hiccup sighed, slinging the bag strap onto his back. “Don’t worry,” He smiled, carefully rolling up his sleeve to show her his own bite. “You’re not alone.”
Robyn eventually began walking slowly. “Mister Sean’s the only one. Who, uh, knows. I was bitten a few weeks ago, a few days into our journey here.” She explained. “I haven’t been able to do much of anything—Sean’s been covering for me whenever I’m asleep, but even then, I have to cram myself under my bed. It’s very uncomfortable.”
Hiccup nodded. “I don’t recognize those scales, Robyn. They’re almost…”
“Shimmering?”
“Exactly,” The older teen said, making his way up the cobbled sidewalk to his front door. “Welcome to House Haddock!” He grinned, opening the door. “I moved my room upstairs. You can put your things up there, and I’ll get you a mat to sleep tonight.”
The girl bowed her head once more. “Thank you for having us.”
“It’s nothing. Hey, I’ll take you to meet Toothless tonight, alright?” Hiccup added, already climbing up the stairs. Robyn cocked her head to the side. “Toothless?” She chirped.
“The Night Fury who bit me. Now come on in, don’t be shy!”
…
“Goodnight, father!” Robyn said from behind Hiccup as the pair made their way upstairs that evening. Hiccup opened his door and placed his half-burned candle onto his nightstand. “Try not to make any noise when you turn. I’ll open up the windows.” He explained. After he had unlatched and swung open the panes, he flopped onto his bed.
“Hiccup? Won’t we get hurt if we just go out the window?” Robyn asked, already covered in the deerskin blankets that the boy had given her. “You’ll see!” Hiccup smiled before laying back himself. Before long, sleep overtook the two of them. As Hiccup was in his last consciousness moments, he shifted around and saw Robyn’s dragon form appear, but couldn’t focus on the other Dragonwalker as the familiar pale light swept over his vision.
“Wow,” Robyn gasped as soon as Hiccup had oriented himself. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes before resting his gaze on her.
Her dragon form’s structure was lithe, almost like a somewhat slimmer version of a Night Fury’s. Pale blue—almost white—scales covered her, and slightly darker patches were scattered along her back and wings. When she shifted, scales caught the moonlight creeping from the open windowsill and faintly glittered.
“A Light Fury.” Hiccup breathed, recognizing the description that Toothless had given him a few days before.
Light Furies were a cousin species to Night Furies—their appearance, while similar in size and overall shape to Night Furies, were the antithesis of the Beasts of the Night. Nights were black and sharp, while Lights were white and sleek.
“You—you never told me you were a Light Fury Dragonwalker!”
“I didn’t know what they’re called! Besides, what are you supposed to be?” Robyn retorted quietly. Hiccup held back a snort, holding his greenish-black wings and tail close as he made his way to the window and put his forepaws against the sill. “Uhm, a Night Fury, obviously. Now let’s go!” He smirked, stepping out onto the tilted ladder he set up and making his way down. The Light Fury followed suit, and the pair of Dragonwalkers began their journey to the cove.