Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Betrothed

7 | 6

Hiccup woke at the soft call of his name and the feel of a large hand on his back. He lifts his head from the hardwood table, drool drying on his cheek, and blinks blearily at the large figure hovering over him. 

“Why aren’t you in bed, son?” Stoick asks softly, thumb smoothing Hiccup’s head. 

“Wuhs… wait’n f’r you,” he manages to mumble, rubbing his eye. 

Gobber had stayed long enough to feed him and tuck him into bed, but Hiccup had woken up shortly after, finding the house empty and the fire dying. Hiccup had stroked the embers back to life, drank some water and the last thing he remembered was sitting at the meal table, determined to wait until his father came home. But it seemed sleep was even more determined than he was. 

He is lifted in his father’s arms, and his head immediately finds itself resting on his cloaked shoulder. “Little Vikings need their rest. You don’t have to wait for me, Hiccup,” Stoick says, taking the stairs. 

“I wanted to,” Hiccup says simply, hugging his father around his neck. He feels his father hold him just a bit tighter and his hand rub his back. It almost soothes him back to sleep. 

His father places him on his bed, laying the thick blanket over him and tucking it under his chin. Instead of leaving him to sleep, his father finds a stool and sits at his bedside. Hiccup watches him, escaping sleep’s grasp little by little the longer his father kept silent. His gaze is clouded with deep thoughts, staring ahead but not really seeing. 

“Are you okay?” The silence had gotten to him. It seems his father had fallen too deep in his thoughts without him knowing as he seemed to visibly snap himself out of it. 

“I’m…I’m alright, Hiccup.” Stoick takes a good look at his son and his brows raise. His hand raises to softly part the hair over his temple, where a bruise is no doubt already blooming into a sickly purple. Stoick stares, a heavy frown behind his beard. 

“I fell. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Hiccup answers his unspoken question perhaps a bit too quickly. Maybe it was because he just lied to his father. He didn’t fall. Snotlout had shoved him so hard he stumbled and hit his head on the torch pole, and instead of running after him, Hiccup had pretended to pass out on the ground while his cousin laughed. Thinking about his cowardness shamed him. He didn’t want to imagine what his father would think if he told him. 

Stoick sighs, rubbing his eyes. The movement makes Hiccup feel bad, but he doesn’t know why, so he follows through with the urge of tucking half of his face underneath his blanket. 

“Tomorrow…” His father looks hesitant as if he’s on the verge of taking back his words, but he pushes through. “Tomorrow will be a big day for you, son. A tribe from the south will be coming to visit, its chieftess and her son will be our honoured guests. I want you to make sure they feel welcomed, the chieftess’ son especially. You understand, Hiccup?” He looks straight into his eyes, the same shade of green that was passed on to him. 

Hiccup nods quickly, uttering a ‘yes, sir’.

“He is your betrothed. When you’re older you will be joined in union and it will be good for the tribe. It will be good for you,” Stoick says as if he’s trying to convince himself rather than Hiccup. 

Hiccup didn’t say anything but he nodded nonetheless, despite being confused. Betrothed. Union. Words that he didn’t understand but his father seemed to hold out hope. His father takes a deep breath and gives him a small smile. His hand reaches out to stroke his hair, soft and soothing until Hiccup can feel himself be lulled to sleep. 

“Sleep, son.” That is the last thing he hears before Hiccup sleeps. 

Come morning, Hiccup stands beside his father at the docks. He is wearing his nicest tunic at his father’s request. The day was warm enough that he didn’t need another layer. 

Towards the sea, a humble fleet of ships sails to Berk  On the leading ship’s sail bore the arriving tribe’s crest: twin dragons that wrapped their serpentine bodies in a knot in such a way that you couldn’t tell where it ended, with one gaping-mawed head facing the sky and the other to the ground; it greatly resembled Fate’s net. It was a crest that he was not familiar with. 

As the ships grew closer, doubt began to churn in his stomach. The last tribe that had visited had been the Berserkers and the chief’s son had been a horrible bully. Even when he had complained to his father about Dagur, he had been told to be on his best behaviour and to make sure he was taken care of. Hiccup would say that the week that they had visited had been the worst week of his life. Maybe, this tribe’s son would be no different, and the thought of it made him inch closer behind his father as the first ship came upon their dock.

The plank is laid down and the first to walk from the ship is a woman. Her hair is a dark auburn and twisted into a braid, when the sun caught her hair it made it lighter, like copper. Her brown eyes scanned the scenery for just a moment before it fell to his father’s. She walks to them like a woman in charge. Even without her being clothed in more fine adornments or by the announcement of one of her tribesmen, she cannot be mistaken as anyone but the chieftess. 

“I thought it would be colder,” the chieftess says, staring fearlessly at his father despite him towering over her. Men twice her size had cowered under Stoick the Vast’s stare. 

“You caught us at a good day,” Stoick says. They stand in front of each other with tense stances and hard glares. Suddenly, their faces broke into grins and their hands clasped each other’s wrists. 

“Signy.”

“Stoick.” Her grin curls into something mischievous. “You’ve gotten wider since last I saw you.”

Stoick harumphs, mouth opening to make a rebuttal but Signy’s quicksilver attention is now focused on Hiccup. She smiles, soft and motherly, and Hiccup suddenly bashful at having her gaze set on him. He clings to his father’s cloak. 

“And, this must be your son.” She doesn’t say it in the disbelieving way that others have before. He is Stoick the Vast’s son? Weak little him? The visiting tribe’s chieftess says it as a fact and with fondness. It makes Hiccup like her almost immediately. 

His father’s hand is on his head and Hiccup stands a bit straighter but his grip doesn’t leave his father’s cloak. “Hiccup.” He hears his father’s silent command. 

“H-Hello,” he whispers. 

“Hello, Hiccup. You’ve grown so much. You were but a babe in my arms when we first met.” Signy chuckles as Hiccup buries his red face in his father’s legs. “What a cute lad, definitely didn’t get that from you, Stoick.”

“You never change,” Stoick huffs long-sufferingly. “And where is your brood?”

Before she could even answer, there is the bark of a name from the ship and feet hitting the plank wood. Quick as a snake, Signy’s hand darts out and grabs the collar of the running blur, effectively stopping it in its path. A boy stands still in the chieftess’ grip. He is taller than Hiccup (then again, that isn’t so hard when you’re a runt like him) and his face set in a rebellious frown at being caught. 

“This hellion here is my son, Jackson.” Signy raises a brow at the bow, effectively cowing him from resisting his mother’s grip. 

Then, a man makes his way down the plank and stands beside his wife, a babbling baby in a carrier on his back. Signy introduces them as her husband and youngest but Hiccup is no longer listening as he catches the other boy’s, Jackson’s, gaze. The boy his father says is his betrothed. His looks favour his father, from the shade of his hair (even the odd strand of white hair above his left brow) and the cow lick, but he inherited his mother’s eyes. Those brown eyes look at him with open curiosity, equally as uninterested in the greetings between their parents. 

The taller boy suddenly frowns and silently pokes his tongue out at Hiccup. Affronted at the display, Hiccup tucked himself closer to his father. But a brief thought makes him pause, a flash of annoyance and anger at being picked on, it came and went quickly in the face of Jackson’s rude gesture. But it was enough for Hiccup to gather his wits, furrowing his brows and rebelliously returned his impolite action. His nose scrunches and his tongue just briefly pokes out at the other boy; his face quickly smoothed to a frown before any of the adults saw him. He thinks that he would no doubt regret the action if the boy was anything like the Berserker tribe’s heir. Hiccup didn’t care, he did it first, and if he would chase him later then that was fine because Hiccup is a good runner and he’s got good hiding spots. 

But, instead of seeing a mean scowl twisting the other boy’s face, Hiccup finds him grinning widely as if he had just witnessed the greatest thing. He keeps smiling at him, and even when his father leads them to the Great Hall, he keeps trying to catch Hiccup’s eye. Hiccup pokes his tongue out again from behind his father. Jackson smiles almost instantly, looking absolutely tickled.

What a weird boy his betrothed is. 

Chapter Text

300 years

17 | 16

He’s nervous, Jack can’t help but think. 

It’s obvious anyway for anyone passing by, all you had to do is take a glance at the green eyes flittering anywhere but at him, and the fingers fidgeting at the hem of his tunic, running through his hair, and flapping about like a fledgling bird. Hiccup is nervous, and any other time Jack would grin and tell him he’s cute but the Hooligan heir looks like he’s about to pass out from nerves. 

“Edda managed to hit her first bullseye last week,” Jack says, leaning on the pine tree. Hiccup had flown them to a small patch of forest sitting atop one of the many stone pillars in Berk’s woodland. Private, and with no chance of people interrupting whatever it is that Hiccup planned. 

“O-Oh? I think you mentioned it in your last letter,” Hiccup says, relaxing slightly as Jack takes the lead in the conversation. 

Jack nods, watching as Hiccup fidgets with his sleeve. “Yeah, that was all she was set on for the past month. Shooting the centre of the target was all she could think about. Drove me crazy since I was the one she dragged to the archery range. But she managed to get it in the end, thanks to the words of wisdom her dear brother shared with her.”

Hiccup chuckles at his smug tone. Jack watches his gaze soften when he stares at him. “And what words of wisdom were they?”

“Well, I told her that she needed an empty mind, thinking too many thoughts made her miss her mark and all she needed to do was let it out.” Jack smiles at Hiccup. He can see the moment Hiccup understands his pointed words, eyes dropping down to his feet and lips pulling up to a wry smile. 

He looks up at Jack from under his lashes, his expression just showing a bit of embarrassment. “Was I really that obvious?”

Jack raises his brow incredulously. He pushes himself upright and walks to Hiccup’s side, nudging his shoulder. “Tell me.”

He lets him take his time and gather his thoughts. This height gave him the perfect view of the slowly setting sun and the pink and orange hue it left in the sky. He glances back at Hiccup. His betrothed. He’s long since shed his baby fat, gone were the round cheeks that Jack used to playfully pinch to make room for the shape of a sharp jawline, and he knew his next annual visit to Berk would find Hiccup towering over Jack. Sometimes he gets surprised by how fast things change, too fast for him to wrap his head around. But, he understands that there are things that won’t wait for him. Such is the life of a tribe heir. 

Hiccup meets his eyes. Summer green to his acorn brown. Jack catches his hand reaching out to him, hesitant and shy even after all these years, at the corner of his eye. Jack fills the rest of the distance and holds his hand. He feels Hiccup tighten his grip. 

“We-... We’ll be of age soon,” Hiccup begins, staring resolutely at him despite how nervous he seems. Jack can’t help but feel the same nervousness at the topic, his palms suddenly damp, but Hiccup doesn’t let go. “And I know our parents have planned this since before we were born, I heard my dad start talking about preparing for the union but I can’t…” He stops suddenly and bites his lip. Jack is still, his mouth is suddenly dry at Hiccup's words, but he keeps his silence.

He understands. It’s not like he himself had second guesses about the union, constantly questioning whether they would be good for each other. If, maybe, they would still be what they are now if they were never betrothed. But, Jack is his father’s son through and through. Quick to fall hard (though it didn’t help that Hiccup is easy to fall in love with either). Maybe, he was partly to blame, being so engrossed in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to consider that Hiccup didn’t… 

Hiccup must have caught the dejected expression he tried to hide. “Whatever it is you’re thinking isn’t where you think this conversation is going.” Hiccup looks suddenly out of his depth, desperately finding the right words, but Jack can’t stay quiet anymore.

“I understand that you never got to have a say in all this, more than anyone. If there’s… someone else, then I’ll back off.” 

“That’s not—” 

“I’ll tell my mother and your father that it’s my decision. You don’t have to—”  

The hand that’s still in Hiccup’s grip is suddenly tugged and a pair of lips touch his. Chapped slightly by the wind but warm and he’s pressed himself so close that Jack could count each lash in his closed eyes. He pulls away, cutting the kiss too short for Jack’s liking. Jack gets to see him out of breath and flushed, the colour so similar to the times Jack had sneaked his cheek a kiss but oh so different. Perhaps it’s the expression on his face, a myriad of pleased, embarrassed and that stomach-tickling affection that made Jack suddenly speechless.

“I don’t want you to do any of that.” He’s staring at him and his words are genuine. “I just need more time. We’re still young, this betrothal isn’t going anywhere if I can help it. But, there’s a whole world out there beyond the archipelago, dragons to discover and I’d like to see it with you. I’m not ready to be chief, I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility.” Hiccup sighs. They’re still so close, both of their hands are held in the other’s. “So, what I’m trying to say is: wait for me, just for a little bit longer.”

Jack can’t help but smile amidst the feeling of relief and that warmth that saturated him from the tip of his ear to his toes. It was such a simple request, one that Jack is more than happy to agree to. Hiccup confessed that he wanted to see the world with him. It made him happy to think of it, to dream of having him by his side, having adventures.

“I can wait. I’ll wait 300 years for you,” Jack says, pulling him into an embrace.

Hiccup chuckles, shaking his head. “I won’t make you wait that long.” His green eyes twinkle playfully. “300 years, huh?”

“Kiss me again and I’ll make it four.” 

His betrothed laughs and leans in. Before the setting sun, they can taste the smiles on their lips.

Chapter Text

Secret Keeper

15  | 14

Berk is not so far now. The docks are in view and Jack leans precariously at the boat's bow with an eager smile. 

The island is as cold as ever, the kind that would seep into every gap in your clothes to chill your skin. Jack can’t say he’s gotten used to it since he began his annual visits years ago, but what’s waiting for him at Berk far outweighs the unpleasantness of the weather. 

As the boat nears Berk’s docks, Jack’s eyes dart around to catch sight of that dark auburn hair. 

“Careful now, son. We don’t want you slipping and falling in the water,” his father says from behind him. Jack rolls his eyes. As if that had ever happened. 

Finally, the boat docks. No matter where Jack looks, he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. Or, rather, who . 

Stoick stands in front of the walking plank to greet them, clapping a large hand on his father’s shoulder, making him buckle at the weight. Jack would have scampered off were it not for the hand of his father resting on the top of his head, keeping him in place. 

“Ah, Jack. Hardly a year passed and look how fast you’ve grown.” Stoick says. Jack begrudgingly keeps still, but his eyes still search.  “A bit of meat in you will do you good.”

“Sure, I’ll let Ma know,” Jack says absentmindedly, missing Stoick’s panicked look at the mention of his mother. “Where’s Hiccup?”

He hears his father click his tongue, disapproving at his abruptness. Manners are something Hugo Overland is a stickler for, making sure to drill proper manners and politeness into his children, never mind that Vikings didn’t care for such things. Bold and blunt they are. Which is why Jack liked them.

At the mention of Hiccup, Stoick visibly brightens, chest puffing and a proud grin on his face. “He started his dragon training a couple of months back. Miracle of miracles, he’s  the top of his class, took to it like a duck to water!” Stoick laughs, wearing a father’s pride in every inch of him. “Sorry he couldn’t make it to see you arrive Jack, but he’s probably busy training in the ring. He’s quite the popular figure now, well on his way to being a mighty dragon killer!”

Jack frowns. He shoots an impatient look at his father. Thankfully, he doesn’t hinder him, taking Stoick’s attention. “What an accomplishment. He takes after you in more ways than one, then. You must be very proud, Stoick,” Hugo says lightly. Stoick lets out a booming laugh, beginning to tell his father the happenings of the past few months. 

Jack takes his chance to slip away.

When he arrives at the arena, standing at the spectator’s area, he finds it empty, save for Gobber who was busy picking up the fallen shields and weapons. No sign of Hiccup. 

He slips his head and arms between the bars, calling out, “Gobber!” The Viking with two limbs short pauses and looks up at the arena at Jack. 

“Jack! Welcome back, lad!” He waves his hook up at him. “You missed out on all the fun.”

Jack shrugs, not all that interested in seeing a dragon and young Vikings scrambling around in an arena. “Where’s Hiccup?” he shouts instead. 

“Wouldn’t know. He’s everywhere nowadays, what can you expect when you’re a celebrity, eh?” Gobber chortles, shaking his head fondly. “Today wasn’t any different. They all left early because of how fast he took care of them dragons!”

Hiccup? A celebrity?

He never mentioned anything of the sort in his letters. He mostly had to read about Hiccup bemoaning Gobber’s training methods nearly getting him killed. His betrothed shared nothing about his sudden rise to popularity and skill in Berk’s dragon training. The thought makes him confused and… hurt. 

Jack huffs and bids Gobber goodbye before taking off back into the village. 

He tries searching for him at his house. At the smithy. The Great Hall. The Hooligan Heir is nowhere to be found. Jack spots the clique of young Vikings sitting on one of the benches before he left the Great Hall, talking amongst themselves, and he decides to ask them. 

They stop all conversation upon his approach and eye him curiously. Though Ruffnut and Tuffnut both contort their face to resemble somewhat of a Gronkle with their chin jutting out and brows furrowed whether to intimidate or make fun, Jack didn’t know. 

“Well, well, the prodigal returns,” says Tuffnut as Jack stops before them.

“I don’t think that word applies to me.”

“A person who abandons his home to lead a lavish life but later makes a repentant return after such an abandonment,” Ruffnut recites smugly. 

“First, that still doesn’t apply to me. Second, where’s Hiccup?”

He doesn’t miss Astrid’s sudden scowl, her mood instantly souring at the mention of Hiccup. “Not here,” she spits, grinding the whetstone across the blade of her axe.

Jack frowns at the reaction, ready to ask if they knew where he’d be when Snotlout swaggered up to him. 

“Why so interested, huh? Planning to mooch off of Hiccup’s glory? You’re suddenly back now that he’s climbing up the social ladder, why is that huh?” interrogates Snotlout, sneering. 

Annoyed, Jack rolls his eyes, his height making him look down at Snotlout. “I always visit at this time of year,” Jack says. “When did you suddenly become the protector of his virtue?”

The twins laugh, saddling up on each side of Snotlout. “Snotlout, the virtue protector!”

“Protector of virtues and Hiccup’s glory!”

They continue to jeer and make fun of the red-faced Jorgenson. Jack, realizing that they were no help, turned to walk out and continue his search when Fishlegs says, “He goes to the forest sometimes. I see him go there after dragon training.”

“Any idea what part of the forest he might be in?” Jack asks.

Fishlegs shrugs, shaking his head. Jack sighs and thanks him. He catches Astrid’s eye just before he makes his exit, feeling she had something to add. Despite his better judgment, he waits her out. Hiccup held a sort of hero worship for her, and though Jack observed her never being outright cruel to Hiccup, she didn’t go out of her way to be nice to him either. 

Astrid huffs, breath flicking her fringe off her face. “I see him around Raven Point. Don’t know where he goes but he wears some weird training gear every time he’s there.” That’s all she seemed to say as she pointedly returns her attention to sharpening her blade.

“Thanks.”

He finally leaves the Great Hall and marches to the forest

It’s when the forest darkens to mid-afternoon and he’s an hour deep in the woodland that Jack remembers he’s been told not to wander here alone. The only people who could navigate through this forest were the Berkians since they grew up here. He’s pretty sure he’s just walking around in circles at this point. 

That fungi-infested stump is a familiar sight. He’s passed it three times now. 

Jack runs a frustrated hand through his hair and yells out to the forest, “Hiccup! Where are you?!”

Nothing but the sound of fleeing birds answers his call. 

Snap!

Jack freezes. The sound came from behind him and he quickly whirls around, barely catching the ends of dark auburn hair disappearing behind a tree. The sound of footsteps is clear in the forest, running quickly away from him. 

Jack gives chase. 

His mother would have boxed him in the ears for chasing after suspicious noises, but Jack was sure as the sun that that was Hiccup. The fact that he was running away from him only fuels him to run faster, jumping over logs and ducking under low branches, it doesn’t take long for him to catch up. He sees Hiccup’s back, running away from him with the gait of a newborn fawn. 

He suddenly takes a sharp turn and Jack follows, only to find that he’s disappeared. Chest heaving, Jack’s eyes dart around, trying to find any sign of him but he was gone. Jack scowls. Hiccup definitely heard him, but still, he ran away. The thought makes his vision blurry with tears. 

What was Hiccup doing? Why is still Jack chasing after him if he didn’t want to be found? 

Jack sniffs, then pauses as he spots the imprint of a boot on the mossy ground. He wipes his teary eyes with his sleeve and eyes the tracks with a determined glint. 

Because he’s his mother’s son, that’s why. And if there’s one thing he’s learned from her it’s to always finish what you started. 

The tracks were easy enough to follow. Hiccup had squeezed himself between two large boulders, which was why it looked like he had just disappeared out of thin air. Jack follows his footprints down to a narrow passageway made up of large stones, dirt and tree roots. He finds a shield stuck firmly in the middle of the exit and ducks underneath it when it wouldn’t budge. 

Jack finds himself in a cove, a literal hole in the ground in the middle of the forest, surrounded by rock faces and decorated with soft stones and moss. It’s a tranquil place with a beautiful lake fed by a small waterfall. 

More importantly, his betrothed is there, pacing by the lake’s edge. 

The sight of him brings up a bubbling anger for making Jack spend the whole day looking for him and for having the gall to run away from him. With a battle cry that would make any Viking proud, Jack sprints towards him, tackling him to the ground and wrestling his flailing limbs until they’re firmly pinned. 

“J-Jack!” Hiccup squeaks.

Jack would have laughed if he wasn’t so angry. 

“Gotcha now!” Jack pants, glaring at the boy pinned underneath him. 

And before he could say another word, an unholy screech interrupts him. 

“ Toothless, no! ”