Chapter Text
The Legend of the Man in the Moon
Across the archipelago, everyone knows of the Man in the Moon; you’d have to be living under a literal rock not to. The moon was known to all Vikings as a mischievous godling sent by his elders to live out his days amongst the stars after causing too much mischief and mayhem for his sister, the Earth.
Life in the night sky was dull, vanishing beyond the world’s rim whenever his twin, the Sun, arrived. It hardly seemed fair. He gifted the world with enchanting nights, for mortals and magical beings alike, yet could never share in their wonder.
And so, after centuries slipped by, he shattered the wards and barriers that kept him from interacting with the beings below. He wasn’t able to escape his celestial form just yet, but finally, after so long, he could play with the humans once again. They’d changed in just the blink of an eye from savage creatures who thought only of hunger and survival, the need to reproduce.
Now, they wielded weapons of exquisite craftsmanship, not only forged from steel but also shaped by the sharpness of their minds. Cunning, brave, and ambitious.
Yet it was the children who truly captivated Manny. Their innocence glowed with a brilliance he could only hope to possess. So, Manny did what he knew best: he caught their light and sent it back, shining down upon them, giving them the attention they deserved.
And so, the first of the Moon’s Children were born.
Over the years, these children became known as the moon’s ‘favored.’ They wielded rare command over the elements, their eyes opened to the vaettir and the magic woven through the world. Some bent the wild oceans to their will, others mastered the fiery fury of volcanoes. Legends even whispered of those who tamed the very sky itself.
To be favored was a mark of glory, a promise of luck and bountiful harvests. It was rare and wondrous to feel Manny’s silver gaze trailing you with affection wherever you roamed.
Until it wasn’t.
You see, Manny did not bear his children’s deaths lightly. When age finally claimed them, the relentless clock of time stealing their final breaths, Manny grieved. It was a haunting beauty to witness: an immortal cherishing such brief lives. When the first of his children fell, his tears rained down as liquid silver, soaking the earth until a luminous white flower bloomed, its petals so delicate and pure they seemed to glow.
Moon flowers.
It became custom to lay the moon’s favored to rest among these flowers, trusting that their petals would guide souls not to Valhalla, but to Manny’s side among the stars. To remain forever with their man in the moon.
His love for his children burned so fiercely that when the first was lost to violence, the people of Earth learned never to harm those blessed by his light again. Even the most fearful of Death dared not rob him of his due. When Manny poured his light upon his fallen child, restoring life that was not his to give, even their family knew they would never be the same.
Thus, the first of the moons’ Chosen came into the world.
But this time, there were no gifts or songs. The ballads and adoration faded, replaced by fear. Fear of the Chosen, fear that their cherished Favored might one day become an object of Manny’s possessive affections, bound to an immortal life tethered to the Man in the Moon.
As the centuries passed, so did the stories. The legends of the moon and its Favored, its Chosen. They all went into hiding, banished from their homes by those too afraid to see what they might become. They loved them in their own way, so very different from Manny. For they couldn’t bear the thought of seeing their children become so possessed by the moon that even the godling couldn’t let them go, taking away the gift of the afterlife.
Not every Favored became Chosen, but those who were slowly drifted from the lives they once knew. The Moon never wished to be cruel or to tear them from their families. He simply loved them. So, so much. And so, to alleviate their pain and loss, Manny, still too selfish to let them go, instead stole their memories. Bit by bit, year after year, they would forget who they once were.
They forgot they had ever been human. All that remained was the knowledge that they were children of the moon, vaettir sent by the godling to fulfill their sacred duties and share their elemental gifts with the world.
No matter the cost.
Jack nearly died once.
It was a cold morning, the winds biting into his cheeks and flushing them red. His very hair seemed to freeze in place, a thin coating of ice giving it a permanent, tousled look. No matter how many times he ran his hands through his hair, shaking out the snow and soft ice, it returned with a reverence.
A shiver ran through him, undeterred by the heavy brown cloak wrapped over his tunic. But Jack relished the winter’s bite, even if every other Viking in the village grumbled and bemoaned the nine months of it their side of the archipelago was so privy to.
And yet, that didn’t stop his little sister, Emily, from dragging him out of bed before the first rays of dawn could even hope to break the deep, blue horizon overlooking the isle of Berk.
“Come on, come on!” She giggled, tugging him down toward the lake by their house. Snow blanketed nearly every surface around them, crunching beneath their boots as Jack tried his best to keep them from falling face-first into it.
“I’m going, Em,” Jack chuckled, yelping as his response only served to tend to her impatience.
Two pairs of ice skates clattered in his free hand, echoing Emily’s excitement to break them in. Their mother had gifted them for Snoggletog, and if not for the blizzard, Emily would have dashed outside to try them the moment she unwrapped them.
His mother, of course, would be upset once she woke up to find them both gone. But Jack had left a note, telling her where they’d gone.
The village was still fast asleep, a blanket of calm settling over the island after Snoggletog. It was like this every year. All the children collapsed from the thrill and joy of opening up presents, while the adults were blacked out in their beds, heavy sleep blissfully delaying the inevitable hangovers that were bound to come.
While Jack loved the busy bustling of the village during the day, he couldn’t deny that he’d come to love the peace the nights brought as well.
When they got to the lake, Emily wasted no time. She jumped up, laughing as Jack kept her skates just out of reach before eventually relenting and handing hers over.
For the next hour, they wobbled and glided, learning to skate side by side. Jack picked it up quickly, spinning circles around Emily as she chased him, laughter echoing until she tumbled onto the ice. But Emily’s stubbornness shone; every time she crashed, she simply grumbled, dusted herself off, and got right back up.
It was just as the sun was beginning to come up, the stars disappearing from the quickly lightening sky, when it happened.
A hideous zippleback landed in the snow while Jack was watching Emily from the sidelines. He’d give it to the dragon (dragons?); they were stealthy for such a large beast. Jack hadn’t noticed a thing until Emily looked to him with a giant smile after landing her first jump, but it quickly melted away into a horrified gasp as she yelled his name.
Jack frowned, intending to ask her what was wrong, when he heard the familiar hiss of zippleback gas, the smell sharp and metallic. Then he heard the crack of fire, and Jack threw himself forward just in time. The explosion was minimal, but enough to have Emily’s screams pierce the morning air as Jack caught her when the force sent her skidding his way.
They crashed into a tree, Jack wrapping himself around Emily to shield her. Snow tumbled from brittle branches, dusting them as Jack kept a wary eye on the dragon. Its gaze locked onto Emily, both heads weaving as it crept closer.
“Shhh!” Jack put a finger to his lips as Emily cried, clinging to Jack. “You’re okay! We’re okay, don’t scream, you’ll just agitate it, remember?”
Emily managed to muffle her cries, burying her face into Jack’s chest as he held her. He continued whispering soft reassurances as he watched the dragon.
The sun was fully up now, and Jack looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon, or at least a shield. His eyes spotted a stick near the base of a tree, long with a crescent curve at the end.
“Okay, okay, Ems, I have an idea,” Jack said, beginning to stand up. “But I’m gonna have to–”
“No! No, don’t leave me,” Emily cried, tightening her hold on his clothes.
“I would never leave you,” Jack said immediately, furrowing his brows. He pressed his lips together for a moment before smiling, “We’re just gonna play a game, okay? Hopscotch, like we do every day.”
“Jack, there’s a dragon!” She sniffed, gasping as the zippleback took its first step onto the ice. The dragon slipped, growling in surprise before righting itself. It narrowed its eyes and began making its way toward them menacingly. Emily looked back at Jack. “I’m scared!”
“I know, I know,” Jack said placatingly. “But we’re gonna have a bit of fun instead, okay? Just, just follow my lead, c’mon.” Carefully, Jack helped Emily up. Fortunately or unfortunately, Jack hadn’t had the chance to put his boots or skates back on before the dragon attacked. The ice seeped into his skin, turning it ice-cold, but at least he could lead Emily a bit better than he would have with shoes on.
“Good girl,” Jack breathed, giving Emily a bright smile as they began to move. “Ready? One…”
Jack hopped toward the staff, wincing as he nearly slipped, and Emily gasped, skating with him as he tugged her along.
“Two…”
Jack hopped again, darting glances between the dragon and Emily, pretending to exaggeratedly wobble and flail with laughter, letting his sister's hand slip from his without her noticing. Emily giggled, her fear forgotten for a heartbeat as she watched him, even as the dragon crept ever nearer. He didn’t want Emily near him for this part.
“Three!” He made the last leap, skidding slightly as he crouched down and grabbed the stick, grinning at Emily. “Now, it’s your turn. Get to the snow, Em, and get Mom. I got this.”
Emily gulped, all amusement gone from her face, before she nodded shakily. She tucked her long, brown hair behind her ears before sliding slowly toward the safety of the snow. When she was halfway, Jack turned to face the dragon.
And, oh. In the time it’d taken to get to the staff and instruct Emily toward relative safety, it had managed to get within several feet of Jack. Its gleaming green scales and yellow patterns were a stark contrast to the cool blue ice, and both heads swiveled to peer at Jack. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they looked a bit more curious than malicious now. But it was all the same; he had to give Emily time to leave and get help.
He swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he stared the dragon down. Each time he took a step back, it took one closer. Now, Jack didn’t have any experience in dragon fighting; he wasn’t supposed to start his classes until next spring when he came of age. But he did know how to distract people, mostly kids, but maybe the same thing applied to dragons?
He heard the snow crunch as Emily finally made it, and Jack hastily grabbed the zippleback's attention again before it could notice Emily.
“Hey, you,” He chuckled nervously, clicking his tongue until both heads’ attention was back on him. “What are you doing out here all by yourself? Usually, where there’s one of you, there’s a bunch more coming.”
Jack tossed the staff from hand to hand, talking about nothing and anything as he fought to keep down a hysterical laugh. He was small-talking a dragon, right now. This was crazy!
His eyes caught sight of Emily, slowly disappearing behind the zippleback, climbing hastily up the hill toward the village. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment in which Emily tripped, tumbling down the steep path with a cry.
Shit.
“Emily!”
In one moment, Jack was beelining for his sister, slipping once before hitting the snow and bolting toward her as he heard the ice splinter behind him. The dreadful sound of wingbeats descended upon them as Jack lunged for his sister. In the next moment, Jack was facing death as the hideous zippleback landed in a ground-shaking thud in front of them, rearing their ugly heads back— one spewing acid-green gas, the other sparking fire to ignite it.
Jack barely had time to wrap himself around Emily, cocooning them both in his cloak as he braced for the blast, her screams muffled against his chest.
Except, the funny thing was, nothing happened. Well, at least, not to them. When Jack unscrewed his eyes, it was like a small bubble of swirling air was protecting them. Emily’s hair nearly stabbed him in the eye a few times, his cloak billowing around the two.
“What the…” Jack breathed, squinting in disbelief as he reached out to touch the wind. It was cool, gentle against his rough skin—almost playful. It danced across his fingers, making him laugh in astonishment.
Just then, he heard the dragons roar, and the unmistakable sound of several Vikings’ battle cries rising to meet it, and the winds disappeared in an instant at Jack’s shock.
It was the village blacksmith, Gobber, who got both Jack and Emily out of the battle before it could get ugly, returning them home to their doting mother. She hugged them both close, kissing their foreheads several times before admonishing them for going out so far, trying to usher them inside.
Jack reassured her that they were okay, smiling as his mother nodded and brought a sniffling Emily into the warmth of their home. Jack stayed behind, just for a moment, his eyes glancing up to the sky. The moon was still high above the clouds, just barely beginning to set. It was faint against the frisk blue of the cold winter day, but Jack could’ve sworn that it got just a bit brighter, then.
He wasn’t crazy; whatever happened back there wasn’t some coincidence. Wind didn’t just naturally create a protective bubble around people; it was against the standard laws of nature, and yet…
Jack slowly extended his hand, fingers splayed. He had no idea what might happen, but suddenly the wind swirled, spinning snowflakes around him, lifting his cloak and ruffling his clothes, teasing his bare feet as he wiggled his toes.
Jack huffed out a disbelieving laugh before heeding his mother's calls, mentally promising that he’d be back very soon, and followed her voice inside.
—
Jack thinks, now, in the hull of Stoick the Vast’s ship, that he might come close to dying again today.
“I can’t believe this,” Jack watched as Astrid paced back and forth, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke. “This whole time, Hiccup has been lying to us! To everyone! Siding with a dragon- is he serious?”
Jack hummed to himself, idly picking at the splintered wood of the barrel beneath him. A sudden, monstrous wave sent him flailing, nearly toppling him before he caught himself.
“I knew it was too good to be true!” Tuffnut said dramatically, falling to his knees as Astrid rolled her eyes, stepping over him as she continued her pacing. “So much for our plan to get Hiccup to come over to the Thorston side, huh, Sister?”
“You said it,” Ruffnut agreed, crossing her arms. “Guess he liked the dark side better with the nightfury. Showoff.”
“I’m not surprised that he’d rather cuddle up with a literal nightfury than hang out with the two of you idiots,” Snotlout snarked. “I always knew something was off about him; I mean, who names their son Hiccup?”
“Who names their kid Snotlout?” Jack retorted with a grin, snickering with the twins before shooting his hands up in mock surrender as Snotlout rounded on him.
“I know he’s always been weird, but this is next level,” Astrid continued, ignoring them, tucking her fingers beneath her chin as she muttered. “But this is deranged! These dragons have killed hundreds of us, and yet he somehow befriended one? He’s going to get himself killed.”
Jack was a bit surprised to hear a genuine worry in Astrid’s tone, but it made sense. Hiccup had always been the odd one out, awkward and quick to respond to comments with snarky retorts (Jack had always loved that particular detail). Jack remembered noticing all of this the very first time he met Hiccup, back when his family first arrived at Berk—he was twelve, and Emily was just four.
It was customary for the chief to welcome their new residents and show them around the village. Hiccup had all but hidden behind Stoick’s legs, avoiding making eye contact with anyone; it was clear that he hadn’t been given a choice whether to come along to greet them or not.
The whole tour, Jack had cracked jokes and hung around Hiccup, tossing an arm over his shoulder, asking question after question with Emily by his side. Hiccup was all nerves and tics, but he’d opened up eventually. As the next three years passed before they were allowed to partake in the dragon-fighting classes, they’d become good friends. More than a few times, Jack would be woken up in the middle of the night to go hunting for trolls beneath bridges and Will o’ the Wisps deep in the woods. More often than not, they found dragons waiting for them instead.
Jack suppressed a smile at the memories of the two of them running out of the woods with a deadly nadder or gronkle hot on their tails. They’d garnered a rather infamous reputation, the two of them. But as Jack began hanging out with the other teenagers on Berk more and more due to their new dragon classes– pulling the stray prank with the twins and Snotlout, reading the Book of Dragons with Fishlegs, and sparring with Astrid,-well, Hiccup began to pull away.
It wasn’t until the arena escape that he knew why. He understood the others’ frustrations and hurt; despite their rocky relationships at the start, they were truly beginning to warm up to Hiccup, even Astrid.
Jack gripped his staff—the very one from the night he saved Emily. Gobber had returned his boots and both pairs of skates after the chaos, even the staff Jack meant to wield as a weapon or distraction before everything unraveled. Gobber thought it was his own. Now, Jack carried it everywhere, a reminder of the night everything changed.
“How long do you think this has been going on?” Fishlegs asked, wringing his hands together nervously. “Everything in the ring- did he learn it all from the Nightfury? How was he not killed? It’s the most dangerous dragon on our side of the archipelago… It’s quite fascinating, actually–”
Astrid shot him a glare that quickly shut him up.
“You’ve gotta admit, everything that went down in the arena? Craziest pile of yak dung I’ve ever seen!” Ruffnut extended a hand to help her brother up, cackling as she quickly withdrew it, and Tuff fell back to the ground with a groan. “I mean, who knew he had it in him?”
It was true. They’d all been sitting together in the stands when it happened.
Everyone had watched in bated silence, gasping when Hiccup threw his helmet to the ground in front of the monstrous nightmare, claiming boldly that he was not one of them. Not a Viking.
Jack had seen him in a new light then; everyone had, when Hiccup fearlessly reached out his hand to the dragon. He was so confident, so trusting that the dragon wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Jack was inclined to believe him in that moment when the nightmare’s pupils grew from slits to circles, moving to touch Hiccup’s palm with its snout.
That was the exact moment in which Stoick yelled to stop the fight, hitting his hammer against the bars of the cage, triggering the nightmare into chasing Hiccup throughout the arena in a wild, thrilling goose chase that had Jack’s heart in his throat.
Jack got to his feet, not sure what he was about to do, but positive that he had to do something, when the high, whining shriek of a nightfury echoed throughout the village.
The next five minutes were a whirlwind of screams and panic as the Nightfury blasted into the arena, attacking the nightmare, defending Hiccup like a wild cat of prey with teeth bared and claws out. When the nightmare relented, backing into its holding cell with its head down in submission, is when the real chaos began.
Hiccup ran up to the Nightfury as it softened, turning its head to him, cooing as if to ask Hiccup if he was okay. Jack couldn’t make out Hiccup’s words, but with the way he was gently pushing the dragon, eyes flicking to the number of Vikings who had regained their senses and began to pour into the arena with nets and axes, it looked as though he were telling him to leave.
The dragon didn’t listen, and it paid the price as Stoick entered the arena, fury written all over his face as he advanced, weapon in hand. The Nightfury snarled before pouncing, the two rolling before coming to a stop with the dragon on top. It charged up a fiery blast deep in its throat, and Jack heard Hiccup scream “No!” before it choked it back, turning to him with an expression like a kicked puppy.
In no time at all, the Vikings were on him, pinning his snout, wings, and tail to the ground as Stoick dusted himself off. Hiccup ran to Toothless, fighting against the hold of Spitelout, Snotlout’s father, yelling for his dragon, begging them not to hurt him.
Jack stared in horror, every instinct screaming that this was wrong. Dragons and Vikings were never meant to be friends. Dragons killed, attacked, and showed no mercy. One nearly killed him and Emily, and that wasn’t counting the endless dragon raids that plagued their village. That was the world’s order.
But then again, the wind was never supposed to whisper secrets, teaching you to glide and soar through the woods when no one was looking. The moon wasn’t supposed to follow you with its silver glow throughout the night, either, watching you with its all-knowing gaze.
Hiccup wasn’t the only one keeping secrets these past few months, and Jack would be damned if he let him get caught. Well, more so than he was already.
“Wind,” Jack whispered beneath his breath, relying on the fact that his friends were too focused on the scene before them to hear him. “Save them.”
Without a second to lose, the wind rose around him, twirling and tousling his hair before shooting into the arena. In a blink, everyone in the arena was blasted away from the nightfury, sliding down the stone walls with groans of pain, including Stoick—everyone but Hiccup.
The arena burst into shouts of fear and anger, pointing at the nightfury as it warbled, shaking itself out, eyeing the unconscious Vikings before barking at Hiccup.
Hiccup blinked, confusion evident on his face as he looked around, shocked to find himself the only one standing. Then, he looked up and found Jack’s eyes in the stands.
Jack could only stare, wide-eyed, before furrowing his brows, tugging his lips into a grim line, and giving Hiccup the smallest of nods. Hiccup seemed to snap back to himself then, giving everyone in the stands one last look before hopping onto the Nightfury.
“Hiccup!” Stoick barked, hauling himself up as he stared at his son, riding the very devil they’d fought for centuries.
Hiccup’s face crumbled, but he’d made his decision; it was evidently painted all over his face. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
Everyone gasped, screaming as the Nightfury roared, raising its elegant, large black wings, before shooting off the ground and into the skies. Stoick’s shouts for his son to return were eaten up by the wind as it assisted the two, pushing them up, up, up into the sky, until they were gone.
“I mean, it’s Hiccup, are we really all that surprised?” Jack finally spoke up, shaking the memory off as he readjusted his seat, one leg tugged up toward his chest. “If anyone was going to tame a Nightfury, or a dragon for that matter, it was going to be him.” When no one responded, he looked up, eyes widening when he realized they were all staring at him incredulously.
“What?”
Before anyone could reply, shouts and yells could be heard above deck, and in the next second, the entire ship shook. Everyone yelled, falling to the ground as crates and barrels rocked and rolled across the floor.
“W– what’s going on?” Fishlegs yelled, grunting painfully as a crate slammed him into a wall. He quickly shot his hand up, calling out that he was okay.
“Dragons,” Astrid and Jack said at the same time.
“The ships are being attacked! We have to go help them!” Astrid shot up, bolting to the ladder before Jack grabbed her arm, tugging her back.
“Astrid, we can’t! We’re hiding in here for a reason; we agreed we wouldn’t let the others see us!”
“It doesn’t matter, now! They need our help.” Astrid shrugged Jack off, climbing up the ladder. She reached for the hatch, and everyone shouted in panic when she opened it, just to come face-first with gronkle lava barreling toward them.
Astrid yelled, letting the door snap shut just as the lava hit its target. She lost her hold on the ladder. Jack and Fishlegs rushed forward to catch her. She muttered her thanks, climbing back up and attempting to open the door despite their better judgment, but it wouldn’t budge.
“It’s stuck!” She grunted, pounding on the door with her fist. “The lava must’ve welded it down.”
“So in other words,” Ruffnut said, turning to her brother.
“We have no way out,” Tuff finished. “Great.”
“I knew we shouldn’t have come. Why did I let you guys talk me into this!” Snotlout threw his hands into the air, walking around in a circle as he grumbled. “Now we’re all going to die. Why do you guys never listen to me!”
“Last I checked, you were tripping over yourself, claiming it was your idea to sneak onto the ships as soon as Astrid gathered us in the arena,” Fishlegs piped in.
“Yeah, then you did that cute little thing you do with your lips,” Tuffnut snickered. “Abu-bu-bu-bu-buu!”
“I did not!”
Jack withheld a snort because that was exactly what happened, but his joy didn’t last long.
Everyone fell dead silent as an ear-splitting roar shook the entire boat, and they all clutched their ears as they groaned. Their very bodies seemed to vibrate with the force of it. It lasted a solid fifteen seconds before it stopped.
“What. Was that?” Snotlout said.
“We’re here,” Fishlegs breathed. “The dragon’s nest.”
“And whoever’s home doesn’t seem too happy to have guests show up to trash the place,” Jack winced. “I’ve never heard a dragon roar like that before. What kind is it, ‘Legs?”
“It doesn’t match up with anything in the Book of Dragons,” Fishlegs replied, quivering. “It sounds like a Lyviathin, possibly a level four, even five!”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Ruffnut asked, looking dumbfounded.
“It means,” Jack said. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
It seemed the gods were against them, because the moment Jack spoke, the dragon roared again. The wind barely had time to warn him before a torrent of fire slammed into their boat. The blast of heat and force hurled them into the farthest corner, splinters flying as the wood shattered.
Before they knew it, they were hacking up their lungs due to the thick smog that quickly poured into the hull of the ship, stinging their eyes and lungs with its power.
It didn’t take a genius to know that they were trapped. The flames only continued to eat away at the wood without mercy, closing the distance between it and them. It was only a matter of time before they either passed out from inhaling so much smoke or were burned alive. Maybe both. Definitely both.
Everyone began to scream, calling for help and pounding against the walls. Astrid was hurling her axe, trying to break through the hull of the ship and get them out, but it was no use.
They were going to die.
Except, maybe they didn’t have to.
“Wind,” Jack called. “Can you get us out?”
“Oh, gods, Jack’s already losing it!” Snotlout whined. “It’s all over!”
Jack ignored him and the incredulous looks the others were throwing his way before going back to calling for help futilely.
The wind, on the other hand, gently caressed Jack’s cheek, as if to say ‘I’m here’. Jack took a deep breath before immediately hacking the smoke he had inhaled back up. It was more than a little horrifying what he was about to do, but it was this or get burned alive.
The fire was closing in faster now, eating up anything made of flammable material, forcing everyone to fall back. Jack shoved his way to the front of the group, shrugging off the twins and Fishlegs, who clung to him as if he could physically keep the fire away. Well, they weren’t totally wrong.
“Everyone, get back!” Jack ordered, adjusting his grip on his staff as he felt the wind loosely dance through his fingers. The fire was beginning to suffocate it, and it was now or never.
Ever since the day on the ice with Emily, the wind had become a friend to Jack. It followed him everywhere he went like a ghost at his shoulder, teasing him and pulling him toward the far cliffs of Berk. The wind tested him and his daring, encouraging him to throw himself off cliffs, becoming fond of his staff, whispering in his ear as he learned to guide the wind with it.
Now, Jack felt the winds curling around his staff. He swept it in a wide arc, careful not to get too close to the flames. The wind surged forward when he pointed it in front of them, barreling through the red-hot flames and clearing a small path to the ladder.
Jack ran forward without a second thought, turning around when he realized the others hadn’t followed. They were all staring in disbelief, jaws slack.
(A little horrified, too.)
“Come on!” Jack snapped, gesturing for them to follow him. “Or do you want to die below deck while everyone else is fighting dragons?” He may have played with their egos a bit with that one, but it did the trick.
Astrid came first, sending him a look that said, ‘We’re talking about this later.’ Jack only nodded.
With a bit more help from the wind and a few more shocked looks from the gang, Jack forced the hatch open with a boom. They all scrambled out and onto the deck of the ship one by one.
What they saw had them stop in their tracks.
They had reached the dragon’s nest—and Death itself waited there, coiled in the shape of the largest dragon any of them could ever imagine. The entire island swarmed with nearly every species of dragon Berk had in its Book of Dragons, roaring and screeching as they attacked the boats and Vikings on the island.
Jack only managed to tear his eyes away from the beast when Stoick’s booming voice commanded the troops to launch the catapults at the dragon. He barely had time to use his winds and shove everyone out of the way when the dragon spewed plumes of catastrophic fire at the catapults, catching the ships by deafult, causing the already sinking boat to quicken its descent.
Everyone was screaming, coughing up more smoke than before. The entire ship was set ablaze, blocking any way out.
And that’s when they heard it.
Breaking through the ashen sky, the roars of the titan, and the battle cries of Vikings, a sharp whistle ceased their panic, just in time to see the Nightfury soar through the skies and blast the large dragon square in the face.
The Nightfury whipped back up into the sky before the titan could crash to the ground, rumbling the entire island and shooting up a plume of ash.
Everyone stared, open-mouthed in disbelief before cheering, throwing their fists into the air, imminent death by fiery suffocation momentarily forgotten. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or something like that.
“Wait, guys, look!” Fishlegs pointed at the Nightfury as it circled the dragon, and that’s when Jack saw it, too. Well, saw him.
Hiccup was riding the Nightfury, looking just as he had when he escaped the arena, except this time, Jack could just barely make out the confidence in which he held himself. He supposed you had to grow a bit of a backbone to fly a dragon like that, or any dragon for that matter.
“Hiccup!” Jack yelled before he could stop himself, waving his staff around wildly. He was their ticket off this island alive; he just needed to get his attention! Jack might’ve been able to save them with his winds before, but his vision was blurring with each passing second, his lungs constricting the longer they stayed on the blazing boat. The others weren’t doing much better.
He called to his friend again, but this time, the others joined in, too.
Still, it was no use. Too much was happening; there was no way Hiccup could pick them out of all the chaos around him.
“This isn’t working,” Astrid coughed, bending over with the force of it. A beat passed, and she hesitantly looked to Jack. “Your… wind, can’t you ask it to get Hiccup for us?”
Jack blinked, surprised, but he recovered quickly. He could tell she was still wary of him and his abilities; she was just using whatever resources were available to survive, but this was a first step.
“Wind,” Jack whispered, gripping his staff as he spoke between coughs. “Get Hiccup. Please.”
The wind crooned, wasting no time.
Within the minute, Hiccup disappeared from the dragon's view before landing on the boat, rocking the entire thing.
“What are you guys doing here?” Hiccup yelled, staying on his dragon. “Are you insane?”
“Says the one riding a dragon,” Tuffnut said, elbowing his sister.
“This is totally different–”
“Is it?” Jack asked, unable to help his growing grin. Hiccup was safe, well, alive, at least. He felt something he hadn’t known had been tight in his chest loosen.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Astrid butted in, glaring and pointing at him, backing off when the Nightfury growled at her, snapping at Fishlegs when he came too close, reaching out his hand in awe.
“Yeah, yeah, can we maybe talk about this later?” Snotlout asked, nearly half on top of Ruffnut with how little room they had from the fire rapidly closing in. “Maybe when we’re not about to die a fiery death!?”
Hiccup seemed to remember himself, muttering before looking up to the sky. Then, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, sharp and clear.
Next thing everyone knew, five familiar dragons swooped down from the skies, hovering around the edge of the boat. One green and red Hideous Zippleback, one brown Gruesome Gronkle, one blue Deadly Nadder, and one red Monstrous Nightmare.
Everyone recognized them instantly as the same dragons they’d been training against for weeks in the arena. Apparently, Hiccup had set them free sometime after they’d left. Sure, what’s four more dragons to his arsenal?
Jack was the only one who didn’t freak out when Hiccup told them to get on.
“Would you just listen to me? Aren’t Toothless and I proof enough that you don’t need to be scared?” Hiccup scowled, his patience wearing thin.
Another deafening roar blasted through the air, and everyone watched as the titanwing dragon reared its large head, stomping on groups of Vikings and blasting more with its fire. Then, Jack stilled, his breath caught in his throat when he felt its many eyes settle on their ship.
“Go,” Hiccup whispered. “Go!”
Without any further argument, holding their breaths, they each hopped the edge of the boat, scrambling onto a dragon as Hiccup and the Nightfury– no, Toothless- took off.
Just as Jack was about to jump, hand reaching out for Astrid’s on her Nadder, the boat exploded, and Jack was sent soaring through the air, his staff flying out of his hand.
“Wind?” Jack called out wildly, but his words were eaten up, ironically, by the wind. He was tumbling, unaware of which way was up and which was down. All he knew was that he’d be either dead or left with several shattered bones from this height, the water becoming something like solid ground if he were to hit it. “Wind!”
Just before Jack hit the water, he yelped as he was suddenly caught by his ankle. For a moment, he thought the wind had just cut it in close, but he wasn’t flying on his own accord, if his upside-down position as he looked into his wavy reflection in the ocean told him anything.
Jack bent forward, looking up when he heard Hiccup’s voice, slightly frantic.
“Did you get him, Bud?”
Jack let out a surprised laugh, beaming as Toothless tucked his head down, looking at him with wide, green eyes as he gave him a gummy smile, like he was already familiar with Jack. It was a welcome sight compared to his slit eyes and bared teeth back on the boat.
(Toothless might not have recognized Jack himself, but dragons were children of the winds themselves, born to soar through the skies and never come down. Hiccup was meant to fly with him; he knew that now, he was someone the winds carried in high regard, but Jack was different. He could smell it on him, the magical aura that had saved both him and Hiccup in the arena, the one who’d sent for them just minutes before. A child of the moon and a friend of the wind, and that was someone Toothless could get behind.)
Toothless tossed him up in the air, catching him with ease as he landed comfortably with the help of the wind right behind Hiccup. Not even thinking to wrap his arms around Hiccup for better support, he began looking toward the ocean, eyes wild.
“My staff! I lost it when–”
Hiccup held it up with a knowing smile playing on his lips. Jack beamed, taking it from him gratefully.
“I know how emotionally attached you are to that thing,” Hiccup said as they soared high above the burning armada. “But maybe you shouldn’t bring a flammable stick to a dragon fight next time?”
“Next time?” Jack grinned mischievously. “Maybe next time I swoop in and save you from a burning ship with a Nightfury, huh? You wouldn’t mind, right– er, Toothless?”
Jack patted his side, rubbing his smooth scales as Toothless warbled in a way that mimicked a laugh, astounding Jack once more. Hiccup rolled his eyes.
In no time they rounded up the others, and Jack couldn’t help the cackles bubbling out of him when they found each one. Jack didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but after seeing the graceful way Hiccup rode Toothless, it was rather funny to see how… ungraceful the others were.
Fishlegs was busy trying not to fall off, yelping each time he looked down and saw just how high they were. Snotlout was visibly shaking, trying his best to look nonchalant. The twins were having the most fun, but they were sharing a single dragon, constantly bumping heads literally and metaphorically over who should be controlling it. Astrid, surprisingly and not, was doing the best out of all of them, but even she was looking down at her Nadder every now and then like it might suddenly shoot her with its tail spikes.
“Alright, let’s get you guys somewhere safe, er, well, safer,” Hiccup said, glaring through the smoke covering nearly the entire nest before landing on a ledge overlooking the island. It was high enough with a narrow cave that could fit them all and keep them safe if a dragon were to want a mid-battle snack.
“What?” Jack asked, frowning. “Keep us safe? What about you?”
Hiccup blinked at him, confused as they began to fly toward the cave. “Well, someone has to take that thing down before it kills the entirety of Berk’s population.”
“Then let us help you!” Astrid interjected. “There’s no way you can take that thing alone. You’ll get yourself killed!”
Everyone began echoing the same concerns as they landed, dismounting the dragons, but Hiccup eventually put his foot down. “You guys have never flown a dragon until today; you’ll get burned to a crisp or shot down by another dragon before you know it! This isn’t like the arena; this is the real thing.”
“You think we don’t know that?” Snotlout huffed. “You get a Nightfury, and suddenly you’re better than us?”
“That’s not it, and you know it,” Hiccup retorted, but they all knew it was true anyway. The silent reminder that Hiccup had been secretly training and flying a Nightfury for who knows how long seemed to shut everyone up.
“I appreciate your guys’ concern, really, I do, but I got this,” Toothless crooned, nudging Hiccup’s arm. “We got this. We have a plan, trust me.”
Jack bit his lip, gripping his staff in a white-knuckle grip until it began to creak. He wanted to help, to protect Hiccup and their village, but he was right. None of them knew how to fly a dragon into battle.
For a moment, he debated telling Hiccup everything. About his winds, that he didn’t need a dragon in order to fly. Even if the others needed some time to come around, Hiccup had always been the one to chase tales of vaettir and trolls into the woods, ever since Jack first met him and long before. If anyone would understand, it would be Hiccup.
But what could he do, really? Jack didn’t have fire at his command, just his winds. The best he could do was fly around the titanwing like an annoying fly until he was eventually swatted out of the air, or as Hiccup said, burned to a crisp.
Before Jack could say anything else, Hiccup mounted Toothless without another word when the titanwing bellowed once more.
“Wait,” Jack blurted, hand shooting out to grab Hiccup’s wrist. He could feel the truth coming up like word vomit, desperate to be heard, but for all Jack’s confidence in his friend, the closest he’s had despite their recent distance, fear shot up to meet him at his concerned, green-eyed gaze. “Just– be careful, okay?”
Hiccup’s frown melted into a warm smile as he nodded.
“I’ll come back, I promise. Someone’s gotta teach you guys how to fly properly, and I don’t trust the twins to do it,” Hiccup chuckled as Ruff and Tuff immediately shouted their complaints, saying they were perfectly capable of training dragon riders, thank you very much.
Jack’s mouth opened and closed before he smiled firmly, giving Hiccup one last lingering squeeze before letting go.
As they watched Hiccup take off into the sky, Toothless’ battle cry filling the air, he couldn’t help but feel like he was saying goodbye.
—
Jack knew they were gone when even the winds couldn’t feel them anymore.
The Red Death, named after Fishlegs had nervously listed its traits to Hiccup before the battle, crashed into the nest. Flames devoured its massive form, leaving behind only a blackened husk and a choking smoke so dense you could barely see your own hands.
By the time everyone had skidded and climbed down the ledge– the twins tumbling down all at once after they tripped– they’d heard the commotion of their village. Search parties were already beginning, led by Spitelout, to find anyone unaccounted for and to bring the Vikings who’d escaped to the far side of the island back over. Jack asked the winds to help find any lost Vikings and help guide them absentmindedly.
Most of Jack’s friends reunited with their parents first, unable to bear the thought that they might’ve fallen victim to the growing number of dead all around them. Thankfully, Jack’s mother stayed behind with Emily, never the type for dragon-fighting.
Spilled blood, dragon and human alike, stained the gray rocks black. Several bodies were nothing more than a pile of ash or half-charred husks, unrecognizable to the eye. The smell of blood, burned flesh, and ash was putrid, turning Jack’s stomach over until he felt like he might just hurl.
It didn’t matter, though. None of it did. Not when the wind was able to find every survivor and bring them home, but it couldn’t seem to find Hiccup and Toothless. He ignored the sad, gentle caresses, shoving away his denial and fear, the self-loathing beginning to boil in his gut.
“Hiccup!” Jack called, coughing with each breath he took as he yelled himself hoarse for his friend. He wiped the tears that had been fighting to escape for a while now. He could feel his eyes begin to itch irritatingly, puffed up and probably red. “Toothless? Hiccup!”
“Hiccup!” Another voice called, and then again. Jack felt his stomach drop near instantly. “Son!”
Stoick.
It’s been an hour since the fight ended, and Jack had spent half of it gliding several feet with each step in the fog, far away from the rest of the village. But as he began to circle back, he realized now that he obviously wasn’t the only one looking for Hiccup.
“Wind,” Jack choked out, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable.
Without another word, it listened. Slowly, if not a bit unnaturally, the smoke and ash began to clear. He could hear the village gasp as the full sight of the Red Death was revealed, body ashen and gray with death.
Jack hid behind a pile of rocks, peeking out to watch instead of joining his friends with the rest of the village. For what reason? Jack didn’t want to know, because he was shaking with the fear of already knowing why.
“No,” Stoick whispered. “No!”
Jack watched as Stoick rushed forward, falling to his knees and throwing his helmet aside. It hit the ground with a clank.
Jack watched, wide-eyed, at what Stoick now clutched in his hands, and he ducked behind the rocks to quietly vomit whatever breakfast he’d been able to shove down before sneaking onto the ship to get here.
He knew what it was, the wind whispering it in his ears as he retched. He didn’t need to know, but it seemed the wind had a different way of helping their friends come to a realization they’d been denying.
Hiccup’s boot, and inside, was his bloody, charred foot.
Jack didn’t have the heart to peek out again, instead sliding down the large slab of rock until he hit the ground, looking up at the gray sky, searching as if he might find a Nightfury flying above with a familiar, snarky rider on his back.
Hiccup and Toothless hadn’t made it out in one piece; the wind probably couldn’t find them because they were probably in several. If not, his foot might’ve been the only piece of them to make it out of the fire.
Jack lolled his head to the side, the village and their pitying murmurs all drowned out as his eyes caught sight of the mishapen, half-melted metal of Toothless’ tailfin.
Grief crashed into him now in the form of his best friend, guilt biting into him with the sharp teeth of a dragon. What-ifs rushed through his mind, making him kneel over in pain as he bit down his cries. What if he had never hidden his abilities? What if he had trusted Hiccup with his secret from the start? What if he hadn’t become so distant from Jack once Dragon Classes started? What if Jack hadn’t let him? What if Jack had been able to choke down his fear and force Hiccup to let him help in the fight with the Red Death?
What if.
What if.
What. If.
All he could hear now was a sharp ringing in his ears and the sound of a father’s quiet, angry, mournful cries. His apologies, his love spilling like guts onto the black beach for a son who would never come home—the broken melody of a man who’d finally lost everything dear to him.
This time, Jack let the tears come.