Chapter Text
“Feel that, Jack?” Pitch asked, looming over his shoulder, “Like your chest is caving in, and all the strength in your limbs drains to the ground…”
Jack patted his chest, the air in his lungs leaving him. A croak ripped out of his throat when he tried to breathe again, but he couldn't; the air was as incompatible as water to his lungs. His knees met the harsh snow ground and he clawed at his neck, skin burning and tearing from his nails
“Centuries alone, unseen. You pass through villages, bringing winter to their doors, freezing their babies, starving their kids…” The tall man leaned over his struggling figure, his shadow enveloping him. “You are a fear mongerer, just as much as I am.”
He wished to deny it, deny it all. He never intended to bring the harsh winters, all he did was attempt to ease their blow, stir the frost winds away from the families– but he always failed. Perhaps he was just as bad as Pitch said he was.
The dark arrow that had struck his spine crawled its way over his shoulders and up his neck, down his back and everywhere else left behind. He fell face first into the snow, gasping for air that he couldn't take, eyes seeing the terrified faces of children and adults that faced his winter. There was no joy in their eyes, only lines of worry and shrunken pupils.
“Embrace your true nature, Jack.” Pitch's voice carried an unseen smile, “This is what you were made for– bringing the harshest winters of the year…”
—
“Is everyone inside?” Hiccup looked at Astrid as he dusted off the snow that clung to his hair after just parting the Great Hall's doors.
“Everyone is—”
“Erik! Has anyone seen my boy?!” Marius shouted in the mass of people.
The crowd was loud in their chatter, but after repeating the question enough times, Marius had everyone looking down to find little Erik. Hiccup's stomach sunk as nobody caught sight of the kid, and outside, the winds blew harshly into the town. It made the heavy wooden doors bang against their restraints, threatened to lift the ceilings off the houses, and whatever wasn't properly put away, it was either buried by the snow or flown off the island— straight into the dark storm.
“He was just here…” Marius mourned, falling onto a chair and holding his head in his hands.
Astrid looked at Hiccup with her brows knit, perhaps already knowing what he was thinking of, yet she herself must've been thinking of something similar. “I'll come with you.”
“Astrid–”
“Hiccup.” Her face turned into a scowl.
She didn't have to say much else. Devastating winter had turned even harsher the last few years, some traders said it was a bad spirit that had traveled from other lands, now bringing its doom into the archipelago, and after the phenomenon became a normality, Hiccup was inclined to believe it. Some called it Jack Frost, but the majority called it The Howling Nightmare. The men told stories of how entire seas would freeze in a night, stranding them for months at sea. The ‘howling’ part of the name came from the sound the winds made as they raked through everything in their path, sounding like a wail. The nightmare was the shifted world it left wherever it went.
Going outside would likely grant him an icy grave, but the longer he hesitated, the less chances Erik had of making it through the night. At his lack of refusal, Astrid took her axe and pulled on her coat, closing it until her eyes were barely visible from the hood. Hiccup steeled his nerves and shielded himself from the storm as well, taking a deep breath.
“We'll find him.” Was all he told Marius before lifting the door's restraints and pushing against the wind so the doors wouldn't fly open immediately.
Marius gave him a surprised look, but there was gratefulness in his eyes.
“Hiccup?!” Stoic's voice boomed in the hall, but Hiccup did not stop.
He knew his father would approve of him looking for the child, despite that, he would still worry for his own son.
Erik's house wasn't too far from the Great Hall, but in the storm, everything farther than their arm's length was shrouded in darkness. Astrid held an oil lantern before their eyes, but quickly had to pull it close to her chest as the wind tried to rip it from her hands. Their clothes flapped violently against their bodies, their hair was glued to their faces, and with the dim light of the lantern, they thrudged through knee deep snow.
Hiccup had a strong sense of where they were heading, afterall, he'd lived his whole life in this place, yet—
“This isn't Marius’ house.” He said, doubting Astrid could even hear him through the noise of the wind, yet he was unsettled by his distorted sense of direction.
Astrid must've recognized where they were, despite most of the house being blanketed in white, for she pointed to their left and continued to lift her feet over the snow in that direction. Hiccup made a mental note to make more shovels for the town; they would all have to work together to make it back into their homes— whenever the storm decided to pass. They had enough food for a couple of days, but no more than that.
As he grit his teeth down, willing them to not clatter, he hugged himself, feeling no warmth at all beneath his thick layers of cloth. This might be the worst of Jack Frost's winters— he would rather call the spirit by that name than the other, which would surely bring nightmares to his sleep if he gave it the power.
A torn flag snapped in the air and crashed against his head, wrapping around his face so strongly that he had to stop in his tracks and twist his body in the way of the current so it aided him in tugging it off. When he was finally free and gasping chilly air that made his throat hurt, he turned and saw no dim warm light before him. He was engulfed by darkness.
“Astrid!” He called out, heart drumming almost louder than the wind against his ears. There was no response, and he tried tapping the snow on the ground, trying to find her trail, “ASTRID!!” He tried again.
The snow that made contact with his gloves stretched its cold up his arm like a flowing river. He couldn't find her tracks, and frankly, he wasn't entirely sure he was even facing the correct direction; and that realization terrified him. Toothless was tucked away with the other dragons in the stables, so any hope of getting his buddy to rescue him was out of the table. He would have to find his own way back.
As the conclusion came to him, his eyes caught something in the dark. A pair of blue orbs that shone in the aggressive snowfall. They swayed slowly, hovering about two doors in height away from the ground. Hiccup almost took a step back, but his feet were so deep in the snow, he actually fell on his bum.
“N…ora…” A disembodied voice echoed around him, “No…ra…” It repeated with a raspy voice.
Hiccup's heart pounded against his ribcage as he stared in horror. Impossibly, the moon's glow descended from the heavens and lit upon the figure of the glowing blue dots. It was tall and slender, its blue eyes illuminated a somber expression, worry lines carved deep into its skin and its mouth pulled down at the corners so far that it looked like it was drooping to its neck. The creature held a long crooked staff as it walked slowly, dragging its long obsidian robe across the snow path. The wind howled around them like a wailing creature, wounded and perishing slowly. If The Howling Nightmare was real, this thing was definitely it; and at the mere sight of it, Hiccup felt his whole body begin to freeze from the inside-out.
“Help me!” Erik's voice broke through the noise.
Both Hiccup and the creature faced the direction of the sound. The tall figure seemed to fly over the snow, holding its staff below their body, and Hiccup bit down hard on his lip before following. The Howling— no, Jack Frost… Was going to Erik, and Hiccup needed to be there. He jumped, crawled, did anything his body allowed him to just to not lose Jack Frost from sight. Inferno clinked at the side of his hip, as if reminding him of its presence, but with this much wind and ice, the flame wouldn't last.
Sadly, the flying spirit was faster than him, how surprising. Hiccup sighed in defeat, but mid breath he saw the faint glow of Astrid's lantern before him. He put his freezing body back in motion and his prosthetic met what must be the step of a staircase. He then realized that the light was coming from within a house— Erik's house.
“There it is!” A man exclaimed.
A terrible wail made Hiccup slap his gloved hands to his ears, eyes squeezing in pain from the shrill sound. He stepped forward and with his shoulder busted the door open. Inside the hut, there were two men that Hiccup recognized as traders, Erik and Astrid— and in the middle of the room, Jack Frost, writhing within a green circle on the floor that had glowing runes. Astrid stood before Erik with her axe in hands, staring hard at the creature before them.
“Ah, Hiccup! Come see us take the icy devil out, have ‘ya?” Drog asked, raking his fingers through his red beard.
Jack Frost desperately tried to reach for Erik, making the kid cry in fear and Astrid clutch her axe tighter, her face already pale like the moon. Despite the fear coursing her veins, she still stared back hard at Jack Frost.
“Drog, tell me you didn't use Erik as bait.” Hiccup asked with a stern tone, turning with a frown at the man and his companion.
“Why so mad, boy? Can't ‘ye see we're doing all of us a favor??” Gorm asked back, “Now close that door, will ‘ya? I need to light this thing on fire.” He took a brief look at a piece of paper that most likely held the steps to whatever ritual they were making, then pocketed it, taking out a flint and stone.
“Astrid??” Hiccup was at a loss here, this was a scene he wasn't expecting to run into.
“It's real, Hiccup.” Astrid uttered, staring up into the bright blue orbs that glared down at her, the creature's arms unable to go through the circle's boundaries “If they really can kill it, things will go back to normal.”
Despite that making sense, he still hesitated. When he looked at it, the creature wasn't trying to attack Astrid, it was reaching for Erik while making a sound that sounded like crying. It didn't have the intention of harming, instead, Hiccup had the gut feeling that Jack Frost was trying to appease Erik. His tall silhouette crouching, shrinking to a submissive stance as if kneeling before Erik.
“Don't… cry…” Jack spoke softly, his long robe turning into a human cloak with gray fur near the neck, “I won't harm you.” His voice turned normal, human.
From where Hiccup stood, he saw a head of white unruly hair that poked out of the obsidian cloak, a human hand that grasped a straight staff that curled at the top, and below him were a pair of exposed feet that sizzled where they touched the green sigils. Perhaps Erik saw it too, because his scared expression relaxed into one of surprise.
“The door, Hiccup!” Drog exclaimed, making him break out of his thoughts.
Jack Frost wasn't the monster he had just seen, it was this young man of white hair. Was he even the creature they intended to end?
Hiccup stepped forward, frozen fingers leaving the door open behind him, earning him complaints from the traders and Astrid, yet his focus was elsewhere.
“Jack… Frost?” He asked low, inching closer to the crouching figure.
Jack snapped around and stared at Hiccup with wide blue eyes that pierced his soul, but not in the terrifying way the creature from before had.
“Yes…” Jack answered in a whisper, his eyes quickly flooding with tears, “You see me…”
“Have to do everything myself, don't I?” Gorm grumbled, stomping over to the door and pushing it shut, “Now, time to end this.” He grinded the stone against the flint, making a few sparks fly as he approached the circle.
Jack's face fell at the sight, but he did nothing, not a single plea for mercy. Instead, he closed his eyes shut, embracing his end.
“Wait!” Hiccup jumped in front of Gorm, just as he kneeled down to direct his sparks to the circle.
Through a hole in the wall, where there must've been a wooden plank before the violent winds, the moonlight dawned upon Hiccup's figure, enveloping him in white light.
“What??” Gorm groaned, glaring daggers into Hiccup as he halted just a foot way from the circle.
“Are you sure that is The Howling Nightmare?” Hiccup looked down at him, slowly bending his left knee and softly running his metal foot across the green circle.
“Am I sure–?” The man scoffed, “Can't you see the fiend yourself? The thing needs killing, Hiccup, now back off!”
Gorm shoved Hiccup aside, causing him to stumble and have to brace himself on a wooden pillar. He looked down at the circle, just as Gorm was about to light it; hopefully he had managed to—
Jack Frost turned into a cloud of blue starch and broke out of the circle through the thin gap Hiccup had managed to make in the writings. The cloud of ice spun around in the room frantically, the same way he had seen many scared dragons when trying to find a way to escape, then it shot up and flew out through the hole in the wall.
“For Odin's beard! We had it!!” Drog cried out, his thick brows knitting, “Gorm, what did you do??”
Gorm looked just as upset as his companion, and his jaw bobbed as he tried to find an answer, failing to do so. Hiccup felt relief wash over him, and just as he let out a soft exhale and relaxed his shoulders, he felt the heavy gaze of Astrid on him. He had been the victim of that murderous gaze for many years, yet he would never get used to it. She obviously had seen him, since she had been standing right behind him while he committed the act of defiance.
“Drat,” Hiccup groaned, moving his closed fist in a hook, “I'm sure you'll get him next time!”
“All these wasted materials…” Gorm sighed, using the end of his coat to wipe off the green writings.
“How did you get this uh, ritual?” Hiccup stepped closer with his hands at his hips, looking down at what was left of the circle. He kind of recognized some of the sigils, but he couldn't make sense of any of them. Perhaps Gothi would know…
“Some witch in a spooky ship.” Drog answered in a mumble.
“And you are sure that it is safe?” Hiccup asked, biting back the scoff he wanted to throw at them, “I mean, was the ‘using children as bait’ part of her instructions?” The frown that took over his expression was impossible to hide. “What if he had hurt Erik??”
“Well, the tales say that The Howling Nightmare does seek children at night, taking them into the dark, never to be seen again… But! We were here, and Astrid appeared, so Erik had nothing to fear.” Drog answered, with an overly confident smile on his face.
Hiccup groaned, running a cold hand over his face. At least the storm outside seemed to weaken, no longer bearing the strength to lift huts off the ground.
“We should go back to the Great Hall.” Astrid commanded. Despite her tight grip on her axe, she gently placed her free hand on Erik's shoulder, “Your dad is very worried for you, you shouldn't have run off.”
Erik had a downcast expression and he sighed, “I'm sorry…”
“Save your apologies for your father.” Astrid smiled and patted him on the back, “Let's go.”
Their journey back was easier, and this made Hiccup fall deep into a pit of thoughts. They had seen The Howling Nightmare, it was real. He had believed in it before— only a little, and that's because of all the mythical legends Gobber had hamered into his brain since he was little, but now he had hardproof evidence that it was real. At least, for a moment it was. He had felt scared, yes, but its figure was so… Sad? The face, the way that it walked like an old man on his last breath, the sad wailings that accompanied it. Hiccup almost felt sorry for it, but it was still scary and hard to process. When he saw that it tried to appease Erik, the creature had changed form, and then looked like a young boy— why? Was it so that it could lure Erik into the dark? Had Hiccup been wrong to free it?
“You're thinking so loud, I can hear you all the way over here.” Astrid sighed, sitting on the other end of the table they were sitting on. She had a jug of mead in her hands, most likely using the alcohol to bring some warmth to her bones.
Despite the storm weakening, it was still harsh. Still, not harsh enough to prevent Hiccup's face from turning red at the comment, in moments like these he wished for the privacy of his bedroom.
“There is a lot to think about.” He answered simply, looking away to the people singing and dancing, hoping she wouldn't get to see his blush any more than she already had.
“That is true…” Astrid scooted closer, squinting at him, “Why did you do it, Hiccup? Are you planning to befriend spirits too now?”
Hiccup turned to look at her with a defensive scowl, but he couldn't say no to that. If Jack Frost really had intended to do harm, would he have behaved in the way that he did? Like a trapped creature, trying to pacify Erik– and the way that he had looked at Hiccup; with such… Surprise and… Joy in his eyes?
‘You see me’
“Hey, I'm talking to you!” Astrid huffed with a small smile, flicking his forehead.
“Yeah I heard!” Hiccup pushed her hand aside with a slight pout, there was no respect for deep thinkers like him. “I just need to know what we are facing before trying to ‘kill’ it— Are we even sure that what they were doing would've ended Jack Frost? I mean, can you even kill something that isn't alive?”
Astrid sighed, reeling back and taking a swing from her jug, “I don't know, but that thing was…” She shook her head after a moment, “Unlike anything I've ever seen. It was terrifying, Hiccup, and it wanted Erik. I think that is enough reason to want to put an end to it.”
“Weren't dragons the same thing?” Hiccup asked, and before she could answer with ‘it's not the same thing’, he added: “And didn't you see how it changed? That boy, he was totally different…”
“What boy?” Astrid arched a brow.
Hiccup waited a second, hoping she would say something more to that because there was no way she hadn't seen the creature shapeshift, right? “Blue eyes, white hair, obsidian cloak, he was barefooted…?”
Astrid laughed in his face, “Did it put you under a spell or something? There was no boy there. Yes, blue eyes and black coat, but always looking like a thing straight out of a nightmare.” She squinted again, “Is that why you helped it escape?”
Hiccup sighed, burying his face into his hands, “I don't know…”
Here with the whole town trying to keep warm by partying and Astrid looming over his shoulder with an accusatory glare, he wasn't able to think properly.
As the night went on, the vikings got tired (or passed out drunk), and they all went to sleep. The young heir to the land of Berk, on the other hand, felt no pull to slumber. His mind was flooded by questions he tried to answer, but he had so little knowledge that no conclusion felt true. He tossed and turned in his small sleeping space, crowded by the other vikings, and in the end decided to give up on the idea of getting any rest for the night. He pulled over the satchel he had placed above his head and rummaged inside for his notebook and ink pen. Aided by the moonlight that somehow weaved through the ceiling, he poured out the memories of what had just recently transpired into the paper. He did his best to scrape his mind for every detail, wishing to not forget a single bit of it.
“What are you?” He mumbled to himself, rubbing the curl of his index finger over the scar on his chin as he looked down at his drawing.
On the left page was the tall silhouette of the Howling Nightmare, its droopy expression and bright blue eyes were carved like a bad dream in his mind. Beside it, on the right page, was a sketch of the boy he saw— he had to redo his face many times, and still felt like he didn't get it quite right. He had only seen him for a brief moment. The differences between the two were so vast, yet he could still link similarities like the color of their clothes, their bright blue eyes…
“Though I would much rather see Jack than that.” He told himself, with a slight pull on his lips as he sketched yet another angle of the mysterious man.
‘Jack Frost’ was written with ink above the boy’s drawing. How much of what the traders said was true? Did he really make devastating winter worse? Did he abduct children? And, did he deserve death, considering the reliability of the allegations? Hiccup needed to know. Perhaps Gothi would know. He stretched his neck as he turned back to look at the other end of the Great Hall where the older woman slept against a pillar with her Terrible Terrors tucked in her blanket. His curiosity was so intense that for a split second he actually thought of going over to wake her, but that was a witless idea. He looked up at the thin rays of moonlight with a sigh escaping his lips…
“Huh?” He blinked repeatedly.
The Great Hall was no weak structure, and it had stood as strong as a mountain for a long time, so how was the moonlight coming in when the ceiling was completely sealed?
“Am I dreaming?” He uttered, trying to keep his amusement below viking-waking ranges of noise.
He sat up and leaned back, looking up then down to skim his fingers through the silver beams. Hiccup could feel his heart throttling in his chest. Two events of unnatural occurrence in one night? He must be dreaming.
“Yes…” Hiccup nodded, letting out a deep yawn and sinking back down on the mat that was his bed, “‘Tis all but a dream…”
The flat sack and hard pillow that had been previously incredibly uncomfortable to lie on, now felt blissful to the touch. His eyelids grew heavy and another yawn escaped his lips as his hand rested upon the open pages of his notebook, where the ink of his memories had dried away. Then, in the closed space of the hall, a cold breeze swept by him so gently that his eyes closed and his mind drifted away into slumber…
The morning after his uncanny sightings was unexpectedly calm, the raging storm outside their walls had passed and left a white world for them to shovel away— but that wasn't what surprised the berkians. Hiccup was shaken awake by his father, crowded by Gobber, Astrid and Gothi, all staring at him with confusion stretching their faces.
“Wha-what??” Hiccup’s face quickly grew red, he looked down at his notebook, hoping this reaction wasn't due to his sketches of a boy. Thankfully, the book was closed, and somehow… With a thin coat of frost.
“Son…” His dad breathed out, “What happened to you?”
Hiccup's jaw bobbed as he tried to assimilate the question. It was only when Gobber held a shiny shield to his face that he understood. There was a pale blue crescent moon painted beside his left eye. It started above the end of his brow, curled into his hairline and ended on the top of his cheekbone. He frowned, what kid had drawn on his face while he was asleep?? Astrid’s lips pressed into a thin line and she tugged at his hair.
“Ow!” He was about to send her a glare when his eyes snapped to the hair she was tugging.
There was a silver white streak of hair on his head, and this he was sure nobody could've done; at least no human.
“He's getting white hairs from stress?” Gobber tried, looking at Gothi with an arched brow.
Gothi stared at Hiccup, making him shrink in his spot, nothing about the way her big eyes scanned him felt like good news were coming. The woman shook her head and pulled her staff close to her as she leaned in closer, running a bony finger over the moon on his face. She then looked at her fingers, probably checking if any ink rubbed off, but no. The way they all looked away from Gothi and back at Hiccup made his heart sink.
With this pain in his chest, reality was undeniable. All that he had seen and was currently seeing was not a dream.