Chapter Text
Gobber had an idea. A terrible one, at least by Hiccup’s standards. During what was supposed to be a routine meeting, he slammed a mug down and declared, “Instead of those old dragon-killing lessons—long dead, thank Thor—we’re starting a dragon-rider competition!” He said it with too much enthusiasm, which Hiccup had long learned to be wary of. And of course, to “kick things off properly,” the top six riders were automatically entered. Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Astrid, and—naturally—Hiccup himself. With their dragons, no less.
The challenges? A relay race, a tug-of-war, and what Gobber called a “strategically chaotic” version of capture the flag. In reality, it was shaping up to be absolute madness wrapped in poorly thought-out rules and high-speed flying carnage.
Hiccup, unsurprisingly, had been the only one to vote against it. He sat now at the head of the meeting table in the old council shed, Astrid to his right, and the seat to his left conspicuously empty—reserved for the father he still sometimes looked to out of habit. He sighed and dropped his head into his hands as Gobber rattled on about brackets and sheep dye.
Astrid leaned in close, nudging him with her elbow and whispering, “Come on, it'll be fun.” Her voice carried that light, teasing lilt that meant she was already enjoying his reluctance.
“I have more important things to do,” he muttered without lifting his head.
“It can wait,” she replied, voice like a smirk.
“It can’t. I don’t have time.”
She giggled softly. “Sounds like you’re just afraid I’ll beat you.” Then she leaned back in her chair, lacing her hands behind her head in triumph.
“No, that’s not—” He glanced sideways, catching the unmistakable challenge in her eyes, and huffed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
By the time tournament day arrived, the open field had been transformed into something like a training course gone rogue. Wooden hoops hung suspended from trees and tall poles. Obstacles dotted the grass, and some bleachers had been thrown together for the villagers, who had arrived in droves. Hiccup, perched atop a quiet and unusually solemn Toothless, scanned the setup with cautious disapproval.
Snotlout was the first to join him, Hookfang roaring as they landed. “Ready to eat dust, Chief?” he called, full of smug confidence. Hiccup ignored him and gently guided Toothless away before Snotlout could get louder.
Then came a spiraling, chaotic descent from Barf and Belch, the twins already bickering before they even hit the ground.
“You think you’re gonna win?” Tuffnut shouted across the field. “Hilarious. They only invited me late to give the rest of you a chance.”
“Oh please,” Ruffnut snapped back. “You’re dead weight. Barf does all the flying, Belch just carries your gas.”
As the twins carried on, Hiccup slid off Toothless and wandered toward the edge of the field, idly scratching under his dragon’s chin. He paused near a crumbling stone wall. It wasn’t part of the course—just something thrown together hastily, and it clearly wasn’t built for defense. Still, it tugged at his curiosity.
“What’chu learning over there, Chief?” came Astrid’s voice from behind.
He turned and smiled. “Just thinking.” He stepped closer to her, voice lowering as he teased, “You ready to admit defeat?”
She looped her arms around his neck without hesitation, pressing close in that quietly confident way she had. “Mmm, never. I’ll beat you every time.”
He laughed, resting his hands lightly on her hips. “Don’t get pouty when Toothless and I leave you in the dust.”
“Stormfly’s not backing down. You’d better keep up.”
He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. “Good luck.”
Before she could respond, Fishlegs jogged over, Grump lumbering behind him like a slow-moving boulder. “Hate to break this up,” he said, a little out of breath, “but Gobber says it’s time to line up.”
Astrid stepped away, mounting Stormfly with smooth grace. Hiccup climbed back onto Toothless, and together they followed the others to the starting line, tension beginning to hum beneath the banter.
They all lined up: dragons restless, wings twitching, riders adjusting their gear. Gobber stood at the front, arms raised. “First up! The race relay! You’ll fly a gauntlet of hoops, dodge a few mountains—nothing too dangerous—and when you reach the halfway point, you’ll switch dragons with your assigned partner. That means: Snotlout with Ruffnut, Tuffnut with Fishlegs, and Astrid with Hiccup. Then, you head back. Got it?”
Everyone nodded.
The horn blasted.
Snotlout launched immediately, Hookfang blasting fire for flair. Astrid and Stormfly surged ahead right after, wings cutting through the air like blades. The twins veered in separate directions, yelling over each other. Hiccup stayed steady, Toothless zipping cleanly through the first few hoops with expert precision.
The course twisted through narrow passages and sudden drops, forcing the riders into sharp dives and hard climbs. The twins miscommunicated—as always—and ended up entangled in a midair hoop, their dragon flailing while they screamed at each other. Hiccup slipped by, finally catching up to Astrid.
He looked over at her with a smile, admiring her determined focus. But that second of distraction was all Toothless needed to dive unexpectedly toward the sea. The dragon dipped into the water with a playful splash, then shot back up, drenched and snorting like a satisfied cat.
“Toothless! Focus!” Hiccup barked, shaking off the spray. They climbed back into the race, still close enough to remain competitive.
At the halfway point, Astrid reached it first, flipping off Stormfly with practiced grace. She free-fell for a moment before Toothless swooped in and caught her. She swung into the saddle behind Hiccup with ease.
“Jump!” she called back. “Stormfly will catch you!”
Hiccup hesitated only a second before leaping. The wind howled past him until he hit Stormfly’s leg with a grunt. The Nadder didn’t even slow down—just rolled her eyes (if a dragon could) and kept going.
By the time Hiccup was settled, Astrid and Toothless were already a mile ahead. Ruffnut trailed even farther back, yelling at Hookfang to stop trying to eat her helmet.
The race ended with Astrid taking first, Hiccup right behind her, then Ruffnut, followed by Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Tuffnut.
The second challenge was Tug of War—over a pit of green, gloppy Zippleback slime. Teams were split in two, with only one dragon each. Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Ruffnut teamed up with Grump. Astrid, Tuffnut, and Snotlout chose Stormfly.
As they tied their ends of the massive rope to the dragons’ harnesses, Snotlout shouted, “Get ready to eat it, losers!”
“Please,” Ruffnut barked, “you’re about to get slimed so hard you’ll be tasting gas for a week.”
And then it began.
Grump, true to form, didn’t pull. He sat. That was enough. The sheer weight dragged Team Two forward like they were being hauled off a cliff. Astrid struggled to dig her boots into the slick ground, but it was no use. With a squelchy splat, her team went down hard into the pit.
Ruffnut whooped in victory, and even Fishlegs managed a surprised smile. The crowd roared.
The final event was Capture the Flag. Two sheep—one painted red, one blue—were placed at either end of the field. Red team: Hiccup, Fishlegs, Snotlout. Blue: Astrid, Ruffnut, Tuffnut.
The horn sounded and chaos erupted. Snotlout dove for the blue sheep and was instantly blasted out of the sky by the twins’ signature smoke bomb.
Hiccup attempted a ground approach, dodging through brush and boulders—only to be intercepted by Astrid, who blocked him with a smirk. “Nice try.”
While they clashed playfully, Fishlegs—who no one was watching—quietly grabbed the red sheep and started the slow trek back.
Gobber blew the horn again. “Game over!”
Everyone gathered at the field’s center, covered in slime, soot, and bits of sheep wool. Gobber beamed as he held up a hand. “Red team wins! And your champion, by rank and sheer stubbornness—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III!”
Cheers erupted. Hiccup smiled politely, nodding to the crowd, but his eyes scanned for one person.
He found her on the cliffs, leaning back against Stormfly, eyes on the sea.
He walked to her, Toothless lumbering behind. Without speaking, he sat beside her, letting the quiet settle between them.
“If it hadn’t been a team game,” she said after a moment, “I’d have beaten you.”
“No question,” he said, looping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.
She didn’t resist. She leaned into him with a sigh. “Good job, Hiccup. You earned it.”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head.
They sat like that, quiet and steady, until Gobber came stumbling over. “Hiccup! Feast time!”
Astrid nudged his side. Hiccup groaned but stood. As he followed Gobber, he turned back and called over his shoulder, “Come see me tonight!”
Astrid stood and leaned into Stormfly’s side, watching him disappear into the crowd with a soft smile.