Chapter Text
Jack wasn't one to run away from his problems.
Well, he didn't think of it as running away, he just had things to do. And it wasn't really a problem, per-se. So no, he wasn't running away, and there was no problem. Right?
He was just doing what he did best; covering everything in sight with icy, swirling designs. The first frost was always quite a fun one for him. It was also pretty convenient that this particular activity took place far away from the North Pole.
The wind tousled Jack's hair as he zipped around, decorating everything in fern-like patterns. It whispered to him and laughed along each time he laughed, keeping him company in the cold night. Each tree he touched, each power line he wandered on, Jack made sure that there wasn't an inch of space left uncovered with frost.
He was used to this. Dancing with the wind and blanketing everything in frost? It was just fun! Not a chore, or a big event, or something that caused him stress. If anything, it only brought excitement.
The first frost was a hint of the winter that Jack was eager to bring in. The crisp autumn air turned into something a bit more biting, the breeze picked up the hint of ice, and everything sparkled as if encrusted with diamonds. Like he had told the Guardians when he first met them: there was no hard work or deadlines, just snowballs and fun times. Just Jack Frost being Jack Frost.
So why was everyone acting like this was such a big deal?
North had been the loudest about it. Mostly, he thought, because the coming of winter meant that Christmas was also approaching. But when North got excited, Jack knew that he could be a little… intense.
When he visited North's Workshop after bringing the first snow to the American Midwest, Jack thought that the burly man was going to burst at the seams with excitement. He swooped Jack up into a bone-crushing hug, pushing all of the air out of his lungs.
"Good job Jack!" He proclaimed, setting him down abruptly. "Your hard work must be rewarded!"
"What?" Jack chuckled, righting himself and finding his balance. Hard work? The Midwest wasn't even fully due for winter, it wasn't even October yet. He just liked to mess around in that area since the people there wouldn't bat an eye at the weird weather patterns.
"Well, this is your first winter as Guardian, yes? How does it feel?" His large hands grabbed Jack's arms and he loomed over the short boy. Not menacingly, no, North wasn't trying to be threatening. But the excited energy buzzing around him pushed harshly against something in Jack's chest, making him tense up severely.
He didn't know what North expected him to say in response.
North's unyielding gaze settled on him in anticipation, wide glacier blue eyes full of wonder. Jack didn't know where to look. "Uh… should it feel any different? Really I was just messing around–"
"Messing around?" North threw his head back in laughter. "You bring all the joy of winter! The snow! The cold! Chilly weather for the holidays! That must be hard work, no? We should celebrate!" He clapped his hands together, and suddenly Jack was getting déjà vu. Elves brought out brass instruments to fanfare, and Jack did his best to dodge the confetti that was falling from… somewhere. The scene was eerily similar to the first time he was in the North Pole, and equally as uncomfortable.
Was North just always ready to throw a party? Or did he plan to do this when Jack arrived?
North had turned to grab a drum from behind him, and he saw his chance. By the time he turned around and tried to find Jack again, the winter spirit was already long gone.
But no, according to Jack, that didn't count as running off.
In the nights since then, he had decided it was time to cover everything he possibly could in frost.
He shook his head, chasing the memory away. With the cold wind whipping his face, he let himself get lost between the buildings once again. He carved around corners and swooped under traffic lights, feeling the air fill his lungs and leave again each time he let out an excited whoop or laugh.
Hooking his staff around the spire of a tall building, Jack twirled around before landing to admire the state of the town. The streets glistened in the moonlight. Even if Jack had a… complicated relationship with the moon, he had to admit, Manny really had a way of making his frost sparkle like nothing else could. Streetlights made pockets of golden light among the silver. Parked cars that lined the street sparkled like they were made of glitter. The red and orange leaves that still clung to the sparse trees along the sidewalks shimmered with the gentle breeze coming through.
Jack would be lying if he said the scene didn't remind him of North's ice sculptures. Something in his chest twisted.
He had wanted for so long just to be seen. But now that he was officially a Guardian? It almost felt… wrong. Like Jack was meant to just do his own thing, like being in a room with too many other people was suffocating him.
But that was stupid. Jack got what he wanted, right? He found his purpose, he helped defeat Pitch, and he even had kids who believed in him now.
Jack let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and ran a hand through his stark white hair. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the weird feelings. He wasn't going to let his overthinking put a damper on his fun. He managed to do that for 300 years, after all.
He called into the dark and made a familiar request, "Hey, Wind!" A gust came in response. "Take me home!"
And like a snowflake, Jack was whisked up into the night sky. He let the cold wash over him as he swooped around, and before he knew it, he was back to his pond.
Though, he wasn't expecting to have guests.
Two figures stood– or rather, hovered– along the edge of the water. From up so high, they looked like nothing more than specks: one of which was short and sparkled of gold, and the other zipped about in hues of green, blue, and pink, delegating instructions between several smaller beings. The much shorter of the two peered up into the night sky, eyes catching on Jack as he began his descent. He bobbed up in the air and poked the other on the arm, pointing up to where Jack was in the sky before weightlessly sinking back to the ground.
The wind placed him down gently next to the water. "Tooth! Sandy! To what do I owe the pleasure?" He dramatically swooped his arm in a welcoming gesture, letting his feather-light body lean against his staff.
"Jack!" Tooth exclaimed before zipping up to him, swirling around him like a whirlwind. She was accompanied by a few of her tooth fairies, who all flitted about him chirping with excitement. Two of them happily darted around his head, while a few others fussed over his hair, exciting a laugh out of him. "Oh, it feels like it's been so long since I've seen you! How have you been?" Jack let out a giggle at the fairies before playfully shooing them off and they finally settled around Tooth, giving him starry-eyed stares.
He was thankful that Tooth had managed to break her habit of immediately going to inspect his teeth every time she saw him. Though, he still caught her glancing at his mouth dreamily whenever he cracked a smile.
"Oh you know, just been up to the usual shenanigans." He looked over at Sandy, who tipped a shimmering gold bowler hat at him in greeting. Jack mimicked the gesture with a smirk and swung his staff over his shoulders, balancing it while he meandered about. Creeping frost sprouted out in the spots where his bare feet hit the earth. "First frost, days getting colder, exciting times for me," he continued.
The Sandman's hat dissolved back into dream sand as he gave a curt nod. "Sounds like you're keeping pretty busy, huh?" Tooth said, tilting her head sheepishly. Her wings fluttered in uneven spurts making her rise and fall slightly in place.
"Of course! I have plenty of goofing off to get up to," Jack quipped, quirking a smile at the two Guardians. "But what are you guys doing here? Not that you aren't welcome, it's just not every day you see the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman at a random pond in the middle of the woods." He shot a playful look at the two of them. "I'm not about to get tossed in a sack again, am I?"
Sandy cracked a sly smile, as if to imply that was indeed an option. Tooth giggled, a sound not too dissimilar to a songbird. "No, but we would like to see you around the workshop again sometime soon. Y'know, we like to give each other updates on what we've been doing." She wrung out her hands while she spoke. "We were actually coming here to say it'd be great if you could come by tomorrow to chat with us?"
Jack let out a huff of air. It condensed into a wispy cloud, even though it wasn't anywhere near cold enough for anyone else to see their breath."What like another one of those meetings? Sounds… professional." He cringed at the word.
"It's really not that bad," Tooth offered, "It's been a lot more casual recently. But with Christmas coming up, North will probably be needing some help soon." Her gaze drifted along the dry plants on the bank of the pond. Sandy nodded along agreeingly. "And we just want to make sure that… you know… that you're doing okay."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Jack said, a little too quick, a little too stiffly for his liking. He also didn't particularly like how his shoulders tensed up, or how his casual wandering came to an abrupt halt as his eyes snapped up to look at Tooth.
Sandy's eyebrows raised, and Tooth drifted backwards for a moment. "I'm not saying that you wouldn't be!" She shook her hands defensively. "Just that we'd like to be on the same page about what's going on."
Jack forced his shoulders to relax as much as he could. A huff of air and an incredulous chuckle escaped him.
"Is North worried about me? Is that what this is?" His eyes couldn't choose who they wanted to settle on. A bashful grimace appeared on the fairy's face as she exchanged a glance with Sandy, who puffed out his cheeks before pressing his lips into a thin line, nodding matter-of-factly.
Jack sighed, lowering his gaze to the ground. "Okay." He muttered, nodding. "Okay. Fine. I'll go to the workshop tomorrow." Tooth's expression lifted as her worried flitting turned back into happy flutters, her wings humming excitedly. Sandy offered a smile.
"But if anyone starts talking about 'quotas' or 'deadlines' I am out of there immediately, got it?" Jack teased, pointing a finger as a warning between the two of them. A silent chuckle came from Sandy. If Tooth's smile were any brighter Jack thought he'd need sunglasses.
"Yay! See you there then." As the two of them began to fly off into the night, Sandy turned back to send one last wave back at Jack. The little tooth fairies trailed Tooth, and she immediately went back to giving them instructions as they flew. They zipped around her, chirping as a couple of them spared a few final wistful glances at Jack.
"You hear that, Wind?" He mused into the night, the breeze gently whistling in his ear. "I have a meeting tomorrow."
After Pitch had been defeated, the Guardians had all agreed that it would be best to keep a little more in touch than they had in the past. The idea was that if everyone was on the same page, they could help each other out when needed and keep tabs on any threats to the children of the world.
Jack, to most everyone's surprise, initially seemed excited about the idea. Really he saw it as a win-win scenario.
He never had much to do over the warmer summer months. Before becoming a Guardian, he would just end up letting the wind whisk him around the coldest regions of the world, mindlessly soaring through the skies over snowcapped mountains and arctic ice fields. But knowing how much fun he had when they all banded together to help Tooth collect teeth, he thought that would be a much more entertaining use of his time.
Getting to help out the Guardians and being handed a new way to pass the time? Sounded great to him!
But Jack, it would seem, was mistaken.
Sure, the helping was fun. Every once in a while Tooth would have everyone who was willing to help out with the collection of teeth, or North would ask for some help building or testing toys. Of course, Jack enjoyed toy testing whenever it was offered, and even went out of his way a few times to ask if North needed any help.
Any chance Jack got, especially if Bunny was there, he would make a competition out of whatever task he found himself doing. Collecting the most teeth, building the most toys, those little contests were delightful!
But the updates? The talks? While he was excited to help out, the arrangement of such activities quickly became something much more formal than Jack was comfortable with. What started as casual chats every once in a while turned into monthly meetings where everyone sat around North's Workshop talking about what needed to be done next.
It was so boring.
It got to the point where Jack half expected someone to roll in a projector screen and start speaking off of a powerpoint. A few of the Yetis even started showing up with clipboards. The moment that North implied that those "check-ins" weren't mandatory, Jack stopped showing up. He instead opted to simply drop by everyone's domains every so often to see what was up.
Jack thought his strategy was much better. He got to keep helping out where he could, keep everyone updated on his shenanigans, and he didn't have to sit through hours of everyone individually going through their plans for the month. No schedule to adhere to, no timeline, no commitment.
And it was working out great! That was, until his check-in with North where the Guardian of Wonder went all "Confetti and fanfares" on him.
Jack still didn't get it. Why was he so thrown off by North's reaction? It was a positive one, he should be excited that the Guardians are rooting for him. He used to be so afraid that they wouldn't accept him. That he would end up alone again.
So why was every bone in his body screaming at him to get out of there? To be alone again on purpose?
"Hello? Earth to Jack?" North's deep, accented voice startled him out of his thoughts.
His eyes snapped up from the crack in the floorboards he had apparently been so focused on staring at. Jack's grip on his staff was so tight the indents on the wood left patterns dug into his palms, and he hadn't realized how rapidly his leg was bouncing until that very moment.
The workshop came back into focus around him. He sat perched on a railing overlooking the bustling workshop below. The yetis milled about building toys. Crackling from the lit hearth (which Jack was pointedly sitting far away from) mixed with the distant, scattered jingle of the elves. Golden late-afternoon daylight poured in from the skylight, bathing everything in an amber glow which made the lights on the globe seem to glow even brighter.
Jack realized then that everyone's eyes were on him, waiting.
He admitted to himself that another Irish Goodbye was a tempting option at the moment.
Instead of kicking off the ground and letting the wind rocket him through the skylight, Jack responded to the expectant stares as plainly as possible.
"What?"
"Oi really, why is he even here today?" Bunny scoffed, pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning on. "He's not even paying any attention. Even Sandy is more attentive than this kid, and he's asleep half the time!" Sandy sent a pointed look at Bunny. "No offense," He added. The short Guardian folded his arms over his chest and let out a huff of air, dramatized by the gold sand coming out of his nostrils like smoke.
North seconded that look, his icy blue eyes shooting small daggers at the rabbit before turning back to Jack. "Jack," He approached, "Are you alright?"
He and North had talked about their previous interaction before the others got there. Though, most of that was Jack insisting he was fine, and that his sudden departure was just because he had things to do, stuff to freeze, winter to bring. He did his best to ignore the way North's concerned gaze made his stomach ache with something he couldn't quite place.
He hopped off of his perch and swung his staff mindlessly across the floor, decorating it with soft swirls and fractals. "Oh I'm fine, just thinking about all the other things I could be doing right now rather than sitting here." Jack snarked.
"Oh here we go." Bunny heavily hopped towards him, "Of course you have something better to do huh? Going to disappear again?"
Tooth zipped up and put a hand on his shoulder, an attempted calming gesture."Bunny–"
"No!" A large paw reached up and shoved her hand off before gesticulating violently towards Jack, "He's been a bloody Guardian for six months and for the majority of that time, nobody knows where he is! Nobody has heard from him at all in the last month until you two somehow managed to drag him here." His eyes darted between Tooth and Sandy with a fire in them.
"Aw," Jack leaned on his staff and narrowed his eyes at Bunny, who furiously snapped back at him in turn. "When you talk like that it's like you almost care about me or something." Jack knew he was egging him on, but Bunny made it too easy. The winter spirit could almost find the heart to feel bad for him.
Almost.
"I care about the job we have to do. About the kids we have to protect." Bunny growled through bared teeth.
"You mean the kids that I have been bringing joy and fun to?" Jack kept a devilish smile on his face, but could feel himself starting to get frustrated, too. "The ones that I go out and interact with while you hide away, just scheming about how to make them happy? They're kids! Just go out and do something with them already!" He was raising his voice at this point. That wasn't what he wanted it to do.
Bunny's nose twitched. He got in close to Jack, towering over his white hair before speaking lowly, "The kids can't see you, mate. I wouldn't exactly call that 'interacting'. " The words came out with a sharp venom to them.
Jack faltered then, smile falling and setting his mouth into a hard line. The cold pulsated under his hand where it met his staff. A faint crackling sound emanated from it as his grip tensed. The two of them had definitely gotten into their fair share of spats, usually after some prank or trick Jack had played on the other, but ever since Easter, Bunny did his best to avoid rubbing salt into that particular wound.
Until now.
Bunny was being hostile. He hadn't said that on accident. He wanted to remind Jack of the aching loneliness he'd been dealing with for the past three centuries. There were a few lines that the two of them wordlessly agreed they wouldn't cross. This was one of them. Jack couldn't figure out what Bunny's problem was. Had his disappearing act been that bad?
"There are kids who believe in me now–" He retorted coldly, the slight waver in his voice betraying him.
"Yeah? When is that number going to hit double digits?"
What the hell?
"Boys!" North's voice boomed. A few lingering elves gawked at the sight in front of them. One of the yetis rounded the corner holding a clipboard and calling out to North, but abruptly puffed out their cheeks and turned on a heel, smartly figuring this was not the time. "If we are going to do anything we need to get along–"
"Get along?" Jack glowered between North and Bunny. "After everything we've been through, Cottontail over here is the one who's held a stupid grudge for the last forty years!"
"Oh you mongrel–"
"I'm the one who saved your fluffy ass from Pitch and got Jamie to keep believing in you! And yet you still–" The two of them sneered at each other, staring daggers. The rest of the room fell away as the two went at each other's throats, fighting worse than they had since the aforementioned Blizzard of '68.
Whatever sense of camaraderiethe two had before had long been abandoned. The line that they both tried not to cross had been not only crossed, but ran past and left behind at breakneck speed.
"Sure you did, but only after you went off with Pitch and ruined yet another Easter for me! For the kids!" The rabbit poked a digit into Jack's chest. "We wouldn't have lost every other believer on the bloody planet if you hadn't been a selfish, immature piece of–"
Gold, glittering sand splashed over the side of Bunny's face, and his body made a dull thud as he hit the ground. Jack's head whipped around in surprise, spotting Tooth and North looking at Sandy with wide eyes. He only caught their expressions for a moment before his face caught the impact of a ball of dream sand.
And with that, Jack was unconscious on the floor.
Hiccup was definitely known to run away from his problems.
When he placed first in dragon training all those years ago, that was, after all, the whole plan he had. Run away with Toothless and never look back. That was the plan, at least, until Astrid followed him and they found the Red Death. That was the moment Hiccup decided to do something to change the violent traditions of Berk.
But that was years ago. And since then, Hiccup had been running head first into his problems, coming up with plans, and fighting for peace whenever possible in the Barbaric Archipelago. With the Berserker wars behind him now, it finally felt like he could stop running for a moment.
That didn't mean he would be sitting still though.
Sea spray shot up into his face, stinging his eyes as Toothless skimmed over the surface of the water. It was cold; of course, it was always cold. But even if it were the middle of devastating winter, Hiccup doubted he would feel much of the chill on top of the adrenaline of flying.
Shallow waves crested on the water, leaving streaks of white in their wake. Hiccup spotted a pod of scauldrons intermittently breaching the surface off to their left, likely hunting their next meal. Hiccup leaned farther forward in his saddle and clicked the tail fin into a new gear. Toothless let out a delighted screech as the pair began their climb into the sky.
At this point, Hiccup almost felt like he knew the wind on a personal level. Like if it were a living thing, they'd be on a first name basis. It pushed under Toothless' wings as he adjusted their heading to keep it at their back, shooting them forward like a bullet. As the air currents wavered and changed, the pair would adapt to it like it was the most natural thing in the world. As if the dragon and his rider were in each other's heads.
He didn't mind the way the gusts whipped in his face or howled in his ears. It was like a song to him. The low bass of the wind mixing with Toothless' high shrieks and the percussive clanging of metal on metal came together in a cacophonous symphony. He didn't mind how his lips chapped, or how his eyes burned, or how his wind-whipped hair would stick out at odd angles from the salty sea spray.
Hiccup didn't mind at all. If he could, he would be in the sky all the time, never landing.
His heart leapt in his chest as they broke through the sparse cloud cover, trailing white fluff behind them. Thin air danced around Hiccup's hair as they leveled out. Golden late afternoon sunlight painted the sky in warm hues, the oranges showing the first hints of pink as the day tired. A field of densely packed sea stacks stood on the near horizon. The sight made the corners of Hiccup's mouth perk up.
"What do you say, bud?" Hiccup asked, patting Toothless on the head. "Up for some fun?" The dragon gurgled happily with a flap of his wings, tucking his claws a little closer to his body.
"I'll take that as a yes." And with that, Hiccup clicked his prosthetic into a new position. The wind howled past his ears and his stomach dropped as he pressed himself against leather and scale, streamlining his body against Toothless. His stomach dropped as the plummet began. He forced a steady breath out, his heart rate picked up, and Hiccup let the thrill of the dive take him until the rapid pounding of his heart was drowned out by the screech of a dive-bombing night fury.
At times like this, Hiccup and Toothless shared a brain. The two of them swooped between the towering sea stacks with terrifying ease. A sharp twist turned into a dive. Tight turns merged into barrel rolls. Stone towers shot up out of blindly turned corners and were swiftly danced around. Hiccup couldn't even hear the metallic clicks of the tail fin rapidly switching positions over the air rushing past his ears. He barely even registered which gears he was shifting to before switching again.
Toothless made a wide loop as they emerged on the other side of the cluster of sea stacks. Hiccup let out an elated, breathless cheer and Toothless mirrored that with an happy roar.
And as the sun drew closer to the horizon, Hiccup and Toothless drew closer to Berk. They soared over the village, the setting sun casting stark shadows in between the buildings. The whole island glistened with fresh snowfall, reflecting the dying daylight. As beautiful as it was, and as delicate as the first few snows were, Hiccup knew it was just a taste of the harsh cold and whipping blizzards yet to come.
Hiccup debated silently with himself about where he should land, or if he even should yet tonight. But an interruption in the form of a familiar squawk redirected his attention.
"Hiccup!" Astrid called from atop Stormfly. "Where have you been? You've been gone all day!"
"Oh you know, we've been…" He waved his hand through the air, "…around." Hiccup quirked a wry smile at her.
"Uh-huh. Well, apparently you haven't been 'around' here enough today, " She made unamused air quotes around the word, "The twins were driving everyone insane."
Hiccup let out a chuckle, and Toothless adjusted himself to be level with Stormfly, the dragons exchanging growls in greeting. "What else is new? Those two are not my responsibility you know."
"I know, but you're the one who can wrangle them the best."
An exasperated sigh climbed its way out of Hiccup's chest. Even though he knew that was true, the twins barely listened to him anyways and would always find some way to misinterpret clear instructions with malicious compliance. "Do I even want to know what they did this time?"
"Oh, just something along the lines of coming up with some genius way to clear the snow from the town square, and by that I mean they entirely blew up the town square." Astrid deadpanned. "Again."
Hiccup sighed again, something long, drawn out, and dramatic. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyebrows knitting together. "And where are they now?"
"I managed to corral them into the cove so they can't cause any more damage to the town. Last I saw they were burying Snotlout in a snowbank." She remarked with a mischevious chuckle to her voice. Something about the way she smirked as she said it gave Hiccup the impression that perhaps she had some influence on the twins' decision to do that.
"I swear, it's like herding wild boars with them sometimes." Hiccup said, shaking his head. Dragon wings whooshed as they gained speed, shifting their heading to the woods.
The snow crunched under the dragons as they landed in the cove where Toothless and Hiccup first met. Hiccup stumbled as he dismounted, Toothless taking an excited leap towards Stormfly, ready to roughhouse. The pair went tumbling through the snow with energetic growls and playfully batting talons.
Off near the now frozen over pond, Hiccup spotted Fishlegs and Meatlug, the latter resting peacefully while the former piled up snow in something akin to the rotund dragon's likeness. Hookfang lay curled up under a snow-covered tree, a steady stream of smoke spilling from his nostrils as he snored. Snotlout, concerningly, was nowhere to be found.
The twins' devilish laughter floated out from behind a large, far too intricate structure made of snow. White, glittering mounds piled into archways and towering walls; it was honestly quite the impressive work of architecture.
Hiccup was taken aback, but wasn't entirely surprised. The twins had a way with things like this. If it was for the bit, they could execute something intricate and complicated with shocking prowess.
But he wasn't about to encourage them. "What in the name of the gods is this?"
"Halt!" Tuffnut popped over the threshold of one of the snowy walls, "Thou has trespassed onto the snowy fortress of the Thorston clan!"
Ruffnut mirrored the action on the other side of the fort. "State your business!" She stood with one arm crossed over her middle, the other pointing an accusatory finger at Hiccup. "Or be faced with our wrath!"
"Ruff, Tuff, what are you doing?" Hiccup said, mildy vexed. His fists found themselves resting on his hips like a stern parent. He had to admit, the showmanship was entertaining, but if Hiccup let on that he thought that it would only make things worse. "The sun is setting, you should probably be heading back the village about now. And where's Snotlout?"
They ignored his questions, continuing their bit.
"Hmm. Noncompliance." Ruffnut shook her head and looked at her brother.
Tuffnut clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "Tis quite the shame. Guard!" He shouted, full of melodrama.
A battlecry rang through the cove as Snotlout dashed out from where he'd been hiding behind a snowbank. He wielded not his mace, sword, or any metal weapon, but instead a white projectile flung from his grip, the snowball landing squarely in Hiccup's face.
Hiccup stumbled, but didn't lose balance. "Snotlout! What–" Hiccup wiped the wet flakes off of his face.
"What? They said if I played along I would get to hit you. And I'd never pass up an opportunity to knock you down a couple pegs, Haddock!" He laughed. Another snowball was launched, but as Hiccup ducked out of the way, it instead hit Astrid in the back of her head.
Snotlout winced. "Uh-oh."
"Oh, it is on!" Astrid called, scooping up snow and pressing it together. If there is one thing Hiccup has ever learned, its that being on the recieving end of Astrid's competitive spirit does not end well. Her snowball rocketed past his face and found its target. Snotlout's helmet went flying with the sheer force of the impact.
Hiccup's mouth flew open as a guffaw escaped him, but his attention was quickly redirected by more snowballs raining like arrows from above. Ruff and Tuff had emerged from their snowy fortress on Barf and Belch, hurling snowballs in his direction.
Okay, time to fight back.
Hiccup dove behind a snow bank, ducking as icy projectiles darted overhead. Slightly muffled by the snow, he heard a "Hey! No fair!" shriek from Fishlegs as the twins erupted into maniacal laughter that could rival Dagur the Deranged. He crouched as he compacted the white fluff into ammunition. Pretty soon, a respectable stockpile had been built up as the war raged on beyond his meager cover.
Astrid tumbled up next to him, panting. "Mind if we team up?"
"I don't think we'll survive if we don't!" The two shared a determined, yet playful look. Astrid nodded once, grabbed one of the prepared snowballs and hurled it over the mound like a grenade.
Snow flew, petty insults exchanged, and even the dragons found themselves participating as mounts, or cover for their riders. Pretty soon Astrid, Hiccup, and Fishlegs ended up on one side of the cove while Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Snotlout attacked from the other.
"Now, Hookfang!" Snotlout cried out from atop the monsterous nightmare, pointing at a nearby snowbank. Hookfang snorted, then flung his rider into said snowbank head first, a shrill scream getting abruptly cut off as he hit the powder.
Hiccup snorted, and guessed that was not the intended outcome.
He nodded to his compatriots. They had a plan, and they were ready to execute. Fishlegs ran out yelling wildly, drawing fire. Hiccup chucked snow from behind the embankment as Astrid flanked the twins, screaming a fierce battle cry. Ruff and Tuff ran face first into each other. Helmets clanged together as they crumpled to the ground.
"Okay, okay! You win!" Tuffnut held up his hands in surrender, Ruffnut seconding that motion. The barrage halted, and the other riders looked to eachother with self-satisfied smirks. The sunlight was all but gone now, the cove illuminated by the full moon overhead.
But the twins quickly exchanged a look. And then locked eyes with Hiccup. And gave an impish smirk.
Uh-Oh.
"Now!" They shouted in unison as Barf and Belch spewed and sparked at Hiccup. The snow that had previously been his cover now blew to bits, the explosion flinging him backwards onto the frozen pond.
His head hit the ice first, his ears ringing deafeningly. Vision blurred and the world swam, and Hiccup groaned, overcome by dizzyness as he tried to stand up. It was hard to find his footing, his prosthetic kept slipping out from under him.
"No– Hiccup don't!" He vaguely heard Astrid's voice call out.
"Don't stand up–" Fishlegs shouted at the same time.
Hiccup couldn't proccess it over the ringing in his ears or the pounding in his skull.
And as he turned to look to where he thought he heard the voices coming from, he saw looks of terror, regret, and fear from the other riders. As he stood, a dull crack came from below him.
Then there was a cold splash. Hiccup heard Toothless roar.
Then, there was nothing.
Darkness.
Thats the first thing Hiccup notices.
It's cold and it's dark and he is terrified. The frigid nothing presses in all around him, digging its claws into every inch of his being. Not just his body, the entirety of him. It wants to rip him apart. He's scared it already did. Everything is so cold it burns him. A lightless flame, all consuming and hungry. It cuts him. Digs into him. Chews him alive.
It isn't water. He chases the thought away. The thought that it could be so mundane. It's too thick, too dark, too deep all around him. It does not end. It does not begin. It simply is. It is too much of nothing. And it is hungry, and biting, and cold. And it is devouring him.
Hiccup wills himself to move. His limbs refuse to hear him. Chest spasming and heaving, drawing in nothing, not even the inky, frigid blackness all around him. Is this really happening? Is this how he ends? Unincredibly. Alone, frozen, unable to do anything to change his fate.
Tch. Figures.
He is so cold. And he is terrified.
And he sees nothing but nothing.
And he tastes silt and ash.
And he feels its maw open around him. The nothing stabbing him, grabbing him, violating his every sense– it's so damn cold.
And he hears… laughing?
The sound breaks him for a moment. It is not the nothing that is laughing at him. Hiccup knows this. This bitter, oppressive, nothing cannot laugh. Nothingness knows no humor. No glee. Only the desperate instinct it clings to him with. It is heavy and empty and void and frigid and burning and hating.
But the laugh. The laugh is light.
It is bright and jubilant, carefree and melodic. Chimes in the wind, delicate but hearty at the same time. A contradiction to both itself and the nothing he finds eating away at him. It is sure and steady like the wind itself.
He cannot move himself. But the laugh moves him.
Hiccup feels himself pulled towards it, his body still ignoring him, his being reaching out. That weightless joy, that endless fun.
The wretched abyss claws at him. It does not move but it aches at him, motionless in its austere presence. It screams silently at him. Through him. Grasping at him, urging him to surrender to it, to feed it.
It is cold and it is hungry and it will rip him apart.
Hiccup hears a laugh, cool and steadfast. Airy and light.
And it pulls him from the bleak void.
And it's so bright.
It cracks through the ice, a thin membrane on an unfamiliar pond. He is pulled out by that laugh, abrupt and unyeilding but pleasant and so, so bright.
He heaves up the inky black. Nothing comes out. He coughs. Nothing comes out. He vomits. Nothing comes out.
His hands and knees are on the ice and he is looking at them. He can see them in the silvery light of that laughter, of that joy. It is, surprisingly, not at all warm.
His eyes wander up, hearing songlike chimes. Hearing the crackle of something freezing. The snow falling on a brisk day. The cold now is not unpleasant, not biting. It is smooth and clear and refreshing.
Laughter. That's what that is.
And he sees the heaving of shoulders, clad in blue, unfamiliar fabric. A shock of snow white hair he mistakes for the moon itself in its brilliance. Light scatters off of him like he is made of morning frost. The giddy heaving of a chest trying desperately– but not painfully– to draw in air to supply the next excited whoop.
Hiccup sees a boy.
His arms wrapped around his middle, doubled over in laughter. A hook-shaped branch tucked into his arms.
The world around is covered in brilliant white. Swirling, fractal designs adorn every available inch.
And this boy is floating a foot off the ground, laughing.
And Hiccup stares.
And the boy spots him. And the boy has wide, icy eyes. And the boy stops laughing. And the boy looks over his shoulder, to check and see if something is behind him. He speaks an unfamiliar language, yet Hiccup understands him all the same.
"Where did you–"
And the boy falters. And the boy speaks carefully.
"Can… can you see me?"
Hiccup nods. The boy draws in a breath.
Then Hiccup, and the boy, are both gone.