Archive of Our Own

On the distant ocean, a ship rides to Berk, slowly getting bigger as the southern winds push it forward. Hiccup, agitated, paces the docks, boot thumping against creaky wood. He glances at the boat every couple seconds, watching it advance, before going back to staring at the deck. His prosthetic chafes against the meat of his leg as he walks, despite the bandage wrapped around his stump. Nothing can save it now though. He’s been out here for hours. 

He whips to look at the ocean again, biting his lip this time. His knee bounces. Somehow, the boat seems to be going even slower. 

Hiccup deflates and returns to pacing. Toothless follows him with his eyes, head resting on his two front paws next to the steps. His tail flicks irritably, and he yawns, before wiggling to settle into a more comfortable position. 

Astrid glares at him with crossed arms. “It’s going to be fine, Hiccup. You’re overreacting. Maybe they couldn’t make it last year because of a storm,” she reasons. “That’s pretty typical in the summer.”

“But for the whole season?” Hiccup points out. He keeps pacing. “That’s not likely. Storms go away after a while. They could’ve rescheduled. They could’ve sent a letter. They could’ve done—something!” He waves his arms around. Then he stops in his tracks, turning to her. His brows twist. “Why wouldn’t they reach out? Why wouldn’t they say anything?” he pleads.

Pointing her head to the sky, Astrid raises her hands in exasperation. “I don’t know!” she groans, then she finally looks at him again. Her blonde hair billows in the wind, and he thinks of Jack. Jack with windswept hair, his infectious smile turning his cheeks red, Jack swinging upside down in a tree, Jack with a silver bead clipped to the end of his tiny braid, glinting in the moonlight. Jack Jack Jack Ja—

The sound of Astrid scolding snaps him out of it. “—the millionth time you’ve asked me! It could be anything—any reason at all, Hiccup! I’m just as out of the loop as you are, and I’m worried too. But we’re not going to get answers like this!” Then she crosses her arms. “You need to calm down,” she says, and Toothless garbles in agreement from behind her. 

At that, Hiccup’s brows lower even further, and he bites his thumbnail nervously, glancing back at the ship. It’s a little closer now, he thinks—at most 10 minutes away. He stares at it for a while.

Then he looks back to Astrid. “So we just wait?” He raises a brow.

Astrid throws her hands up again. “Yes!” she screams, and Hiccup shuts up after that. 

He goes back to pacing.

Jack—there’s so much Hiccup needs to tell him. So many things that Jack needs to know since he’s been gone! Like how he finally found his mom, after all these years of not having her. How he lost his dad to a dragon trapper, Drago, and then how he defeated him. How he became chief. He’s chief now! And Jack doesn’t know! Jack doesn’t know because it’s been two years since they’ve seen each other. Two whole years! And there’s that new bead he’s been meaning to give him, which has been burning a hole in his pocket for months now, and—

Gods. He’d give anything to talk to Jack right now. Hold him. Hiccup wants to hide his face in Jack’s hair, and curl up by the fireplace with some mead, and go on another flight with Toothless together, and kiss him again. He wants to trade stories. He wants to see Jack. He wants to see him so bad.

His thoughts keep circling, going round and round as he paces. The waves hiss, lapping at the docks quietly, and the metal of his prosthetic squeaks. He waits. His boot thumps on the wooden boards, and the water rushes. He paces. Wind whistles in his ear. He waits. Astrid huffs at him. Still, Hiccup paces. He must go over the length of the docks over 50 times, before he hears the flap of the sails.

Then the ship's bell tolls, signalling its arrival. 

He halts immediately and looks at it, eyes catching on the front bow. The crewmen call out to each other on the deck, and Hiccup watches them take down the white sails, watches them tie the ropes to the posts. His foot taps all the while. Hiccup can’t stop fidgeting. 

They lower the gangway.

Slowly, people begin to unboard. Some crewmen in black shirts direct passengers to the docks, while some unload shipments. The occupants chatter as they make their way down, gathering into a crowd at the end of the docks, and Hiccup waits impatiently, biting his thumb. He looks for two faces. His foot taps faster. 

Finally, Jack’s dad appears on the walkway, stepping down, and Hiccup perks up. He waits for Jack to walk in behind him. 

He waits for Jack to walk in behind him. 

He waits for Jack to—

He waits. 

Finally, Jack’s dad spots him just as he steps onto the docks, tensing. Suddenly his head tilts downward, avoiding eye contact, before he gives Hiccup a small nod in greeting. There’s no Jack in sight. Then he starts walking toward him, face down, and Hiccup thinks: at any moment, Jack will run out. Jack will get off the boat any minute now. But his dad’s boots drag behind laggardly as he plods up to him, and the closer he gets, the more Hiccup sees just how tired he looks. Heavy, purple bags underline his eyes, and his shoulders are curved into a slump. His beard is unkempt and long, when he normally keeps it short, and it just—

Then he stops in front of Hiccup, and Hiccup bounces on his toes, waiting for him to say something. Anything. 

He doesn’t. Jack’s dad still won’t look at him, just keeps his gaze firmly lowered.

Brows furrowing, Hiccup decides to speak first. “Where’s—where’s Jack?” His voice cracks. He tries to look over the man’s shoulder, peering at the mass of figures unloading from the boat, but he doesn’t find that familiar messy brown hair anywhere. No cloak—nothing. He looks back at Jack’s dad. “Where—” He stops when the man finally looks at him. Looks at him, like—

His voice is hoarse. “Hiccup…” he says, and tears well up in his eyes.

That’s when the panic really sets in, taking all his air away. Hiccup blinks, bringing his hands up falteringly, before he drops them. He sucks in a sharp breath, but no oxygen enters.

This isn’t normal, he thinks. Jack gets his happiness from his father. There’s no reason he should be looking at him like this, there's no— “Why are you…” His lungs stutter. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Hiccup asks. “What’s going on? Where is J—”

Jack’s dad just keeps looking at him. His mouth opens a couple times, then closes. Again. Then again. Until: 

“Jack isn’t coming, kid,” he murmurs, and Hiccup’s world starts split in two, ripping, ripping, tearing. 

Jack.

Suddenly, there’s a whining croon, and he feels Toothless nudge into his leg. Hiccup rests a hand on the dragon’s nose for balance, staggering. “Wh—” Hiccup stutters. “What?” His voice cracks. 

“Hiccup,” Jack’s dad says intently. “He drowned.” 

“No.” Hiccup shakes his head. “No, no, no, no. What’re you—?” He backs up.

Jack’s dad sniffs, interrupting Hiccup by taking his hand. He starts to place something in his palm, but then stops. The noise of the crewmen dropping crates travels up to their spot on the docks, creating ambient noise. But for a moment, all Jack’s dad does is hold the object above Hiccup’s hand, fingers stiff, hesitating, before finally he lets it go. 

Hiccup closes his fist around it and brings it close to his chest. He doesn’t look yet, though, instead staring at Jack’s dad. 

He sniffs again, wiping at his eyes. Blue eyes. Not like Jack’s. “He wanted to give this to you last year, but…” Jack’s dad doesn’t finish.

Frowning, Hiccup finally looks down at his clenched fist, staring at it like maybe he could see the object through his own fingers. But he can’t. He knows he can’t. And Hiccup doesn’t want to look, but he has to… he has to know. He has to… 

So Hiccup swallows, breathing deeply, before, slowly, he uncurls his hand. His brows tick down.

In the middle of his palm, a wooden bead sits on his skin. Dark brown, with a messy rune carved into the side. The etching is clumsy, obviously drawn by someone inexperienced, so he knows that a professional didn’t make this. Hiccup rolls the bead between his fingers, observing all the details. The wood has been sanded down to a soft finish, smooth, and dry, but even then Hiccup still recognizes it as a piece of Jack’s staff. He must’ve carved part of it out—without even bothering to put a protective stain over it!

He laughs weakly, closing his fist again, before ducking his head. His lip wobbles hard as all the air heaves out of him, breaths stuttering sharply, and the tears finally roll down his face. They drip onto his boots, the docks. Then he brings his hand to his lips, kissing the bead once, twice, before shakily reaching for his hair. His hands tremble, missing the braid a couple times, before he’s finally finally able to grab it. Then he slips the bead on with care.

Hiccup hides his face in his hands as his whole world falls apart.

—

When Hiccup is 21, Grimmel poisons him and Toothless with Deathgripper venom. One shot Hiccup took protecting his dragon, the second he couldn’t. He remembers laying on the floor, leant up against Toothless while Grimmel monologued annoyingly, thinking, ‘At least I’ll get to see Jack again.’ The pounding heart. Toothless whining in pain. Hiccup’s breath shuttering in his chest. Then, closing his eyes: ‘At least I’ll get to see Jack again.’

He dies. 

Then, on the autumn equinox, Hiccup wakes up to Toothless nudging him with his snout, this time opening his eyes as the Spirit of Autumn and Protector of the Hidden World.

And he doesn’t.

He doesn’t see Jack again.

—

The fireplace in North’s sitting room crackles loudly, logs popping behind the metal screen. Flames eat at the wood as the fire, roaring and large, illuminates the Guardians in the room with a bobbing orange light. It lines their nervous expressions in shadow.

Jack shivers hard and wraps his arms around himself. His teeth chatter quietly, nails digging into the fabric of his hoodie as another chill wracks through him. He squeezes his biceps to keep from shaking too much, but it doesn’t work.

He's perched on the table furthest from the hearth, one leg propped while the other one dangles. Blood pools uselessly into his toes, turning them dull, dark purple. His circulation is too crap to be sitting like this, he knows, but moving would be worse than the cold; Jack’s too tired. His eyebags feel like they could seat ten elephants, and his bones weigh like he’s already carrying one.

Tooth darts around the room nervously, doing the fairy equivalent of pacing, while Sandy boredly snoozes in the arm chair. North, standing, explains the reason for meeting in a quiet voice. Jack only half-listens. 

“—practically broke the sound barrier. That’s how fast it…” he drones on, accent thick, and Jack’s eyes roll to the back of his skull, squeezing shut. He laments.

Twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight years—that’s how long it’s been since Pitch. Twenty-eight years of nothing besides the monthly bonding exercises between Jack and the other Guardians, until today, when North called them over to the workshop for a quote-unquote: ‘disturbance’. 

A pout tugs at the corner of his lips, and his teeth chatter again, louder.

Why now? Why cause problems after twenty-eight years of peace? he wonders, and his brows pull down into a scowl. Then he shivers again.

What Jack would give for a tankard of mead right now. Or a blanket wrapped over his shoulders. Curled close to the fireplace as they murmur about what happened that day, comforted by the knowledge that someone is always listening. His cheek pressed into a freckled shoulder, arms winding around H—

His heart yanks painfully, throbbing against his ribs, and he swallows around his dry throat. 

No. Jack doesn’t get to have that. He missed his chance. 

Now, normally when Jack’s in the workshop, the permanent, buttery scent of snickerdoodles wafting through the air cheers him right up. But he’s not allowed to have any cookies while on the job, apparently—only on visits. That rule generally changes around the summer for… a couple of reasons. But it's spring. And according to Mr. Santa Claus, he ‘abuses’ the free cookie policy when stressed. So every elf in the workshop with a delicious plate of cookies pointedly jingles out of reach. 

One of them even jingles over to the couch now, where Bunny sits curled up by the armrest, painting an egg. He grabs a cookie as the elf passes and takes a bite. 

Jack scowls at him, but Bunny doesn’t even look up. 

No mead. No blankets. No cookies.

Whatever. Jack looks away. Then he frowns at nothing, tugging on the braid in his hair. The back of the silver bead is smooth on the pads of his fingers. Being the Guardian of Fun isn’t fun at all. 

North keeps talking, and Jack’s fidgeting worsens. The hard wood of the table digs into his tailbone as he huffs and leans his cheek into his staff. 

“I mean—” Jack finally cuts him off, and he shifts so he’s perched more comfortably. Then he looks up. North stares back at him, so Jack continues. “Yeah. I get that something broke the sound barrier, North—”

“Actually, that was exagger—”

Jack makes a quieting motion. “—but I don’t think you understand.” Then he brings a hand up. “That’s normal these days. Jets do that all the time. Half of us break the sound barrier on the daily for our work—some of us do it just for fun!” he points out. He’s loud enough that Sandy shoots up from his nap, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, some of us do,” North agrees. Then he enunciates his next words, leaning forward. “But we use magic. This—this is something different!” He gestures to them. “Something new. Not jet, not Guardian, something unheard of.” He spreads his fingers wide. 

There’s a scoff from the couch.

“Let me guess,” Bunny begins sarcastically. He drops the egg in favor of deadpanning at North. “You felt it in your… ‘belly’.” He arches a brow.

North nods insistently, shaking his hands. “Yes!” 

At that, Jack pulls at his face, eyes rolling back. His voice comes out in a sigh. “A-huh, yeah. And how exactly do you know about all this anyway?” he snarks. Then his hands flop back to his lap. Exhaustion permeates through his bones. What he would give to be wrapped in a blanket of snow right now. Wrapped in anything, really, he thinks, and shivers again. “You got some… Super Secret Santa Satellite we don’t know about?” he quips tiredly.

“No,” North huffs. Then he crosses his arms. “It hit me,” he says.

Tooth starts, and flutters over to him worriedly. “It hit you?” she asks, invading his space. She checks him over, hands hovering over his shoulders like she doesn’t know if it’s okay to touch him.

North nods again, gently pushing her away. “Yes,” he says. “It did.”

Jack drops his head wearily. “You gotta be kidding me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose for patience. 

The headache is inevitable. 

“What happened, mate?” Bunny questions. He sets the wet paintbrush aside to cross his arms. And at that, North takes a big breath, bringing his hands up. 

Jack droops even further, pulling at his eyelids in irritation.

They’re in for a long one. 

The big man uses gestures to explain his story. “I was making an ice sculpture in my office. Big, beautiful city, with airport. My own Boeing. The plane takes off. It does wonderful loop-dee-loops around my office, twisting and turning in lovely patterns. It was perfect…” He sighs. Then he yells suddenly, “And then Phil opens my door!” 

Jack snirks.

More calmly, North continues. “The plane smashes into tiny ice pieces. Of course I get angry. I always tell them to knock first, but do they listen? No! So I go take a flight in sleigh to cool my head. No destination in mind—just flying,” he says. But then his voice softens into something curious. “But on flight, I came across something magical,” he whispers. Then there’s a pause where the other Guardians all hold their breath. North brings his hands up. “A hole in the ocean!” he finally says. 

Sandy’s eyes narrow. Golden sand falls off his shoulders as he crosses his arms, finger tapping against his sleeve, and he gives North a skeptical look. But North doesn’t notice. 

An opportunity arises when the elf with the plate of cookies makes his rounds. The elf trots up to Sandy, offering him a cookie, and Sandy makes an ‘ah’ face, before snatching the elf by the head. It struggles as he shakes it in the air hard, and the bell on the elf’s hat jingles loudly. North pauses his story telling to look at him, so Sandy lets the elf go. It flops to the floor. Attention finally gained, Sandy arches a brow, and a question mark pops over his head. 

North answers.“Yes. I swear on the magic of Christmas: a hole in the ocean,” he stresses. “It was like nothing I have ever seen! So I go to take a look, when suddenly… black blot flying around me. Black as night. It hides in the clouds. Then, a long, shrill shriek—and BOOM!”

Everyone flinches. North pauses. “I am hit with fire. Once, twice, three times! And I am forced to flee,” he says, then shakes his head. “Not my proudest moment. But, after returning to the workshop, I get to investigating. Piles of books, scrolls, fables—anything, but nothing tells me what that place is! All I know is that it hides a Secret World.” He splays his hands wide, before dropping them. “That is why I called you here,” he finishes seriously.

The thump of Bunny’s foot tapping on the wooden floor reveals  his thinking, and the fast whirr of Tooth’s wings shows much the same. Even Sandy’s lips are pursed in thought. Jack, on the other hand, mostly becomes more tired, and limply drops his forehead on the side of his staff. 

He sighs, and closes his eyes. 

Worrying about the next big crisis has to be the absolute last bullet on his Importance List. Number one being ‘brood’, and number two being ‘get more energy’. 

Of course, being a Guardian comes with a few perks. Energy being one of them from a technical standpoint! But not totally in theory.

His brows furrow.

And—yes. He’s gained believers since the thing with Pitch. More kids believing in him and more kids seeing him means more power and energy. For sure. Ice builds at his fingertips with only a thought—quicker than when he was just a spirit; frost spreads under his feet wherever he lands, and cold blooms over his skin like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He barely has a hold on this power—doesn’t even know how he created the lightning in his fight with Pitch. All he knows is that it’s grown immeasurable, and that he can just barely keep it contained since becoming a Guardian.

Jack frowns then. He curls a leg around the length of his staff and knocks his head against the wood thoughtfully. The cold seeps into him, creeping over his skin.

But ever since he got his memories back, the last twenty-eight years… they've put a weight on him. Dogging him down. Not only from the general work of being a Guardian, but from how many memories have returned to him—and then the aftermath.

In the early years, his mind would flood with the memories, sometimes at random. Flashes of his sister, purple morning glories in hand, the heady scent of his mom’s beef stew, the pond sparkling gold in the spring, steam rising from the melting snow. And then in summer, the ocean with his dad. The pull of the waves. The smell of salt on the wind, pushing at the sails. The rock of the boat. How the air can be so dry over such a vast body of water, he doesn’t know. But every year they spent days living on that ship, where Jack’s dad took him to a cliffy island with…

… A boy. 

Auburn. Green. Green. That smile. Creak of metal. Green. Armor. Green, green, green—

A high pitched ringing starts in his ears, and his eyes refocus. The world goes from a blur, to a clear, striking image. North’s furniture has never been so fiercely brown.

Jack scowls, and a lump forms in his throat. He tries to swallow around it, but his throat only clicks painfully. 

A thousand years is a long time, though. Yeah, Jack has only been awake for the past three-hundred, but he’ll never age. He’ll be 19 for the rest of his unnaturally long life. His believers will all get older and forget him, and Jamie, while still believing in his 30’s… He’ll just… 

Being a Guardian doesn’t mean anything when everything he’s ever cared about will soon be gone.

Or already is gone, his mind whispers. 

Sooner. If he had just woken up a little sooner, maybe… maybe then he wouldn’t…

He thinks of Jamie. His mom. His sister. Dad. Hic—

Jack shuts his eyes tight and lets out a breath. Then he thinks:

All the power in the world, amassed, strong, and tall, would still cede to love.

Moon. Brown hair. Sun. Auburn. Green, green, green, green—

But what does love cede to? What makes this go away? 

Green…

The image fades, and Jack’s eyelids unglue themselves to stare blankly in front of him. His teeth chatter quietly as he shivers for the millionth time, so he hunches, curling his body over his hands. They’re freezing—his bones ache from the cold—and Jack frowns.

On days like this, where the memories are a vivid, insistent weight in the back of his mind, and his skin is a persistent, stinging cold, Jack really starts to feel as old as he is. Older, even. 

Arms holding—

Tooth brings a finger to her chin. “Could it be something like us?” she wonders aloud, and it snaps him from his thoughts. He zones back into the conversation.

“But if it is, how much d’you wanna bet that something is against us?” Bunny counters, scowling.

Sandy makes too many images at once, speeding through all his thoughts unintelligibly. Jack can’t understand anything he’s trying to say. Not that the other Guardians are paying him much attention, either, but Jack sees the golden, angry imitation of smoke coming out of his ears when he goes ignored.

“You said it was black. Do you think it’s Pitch again?”

“No—not Pitch,” North insists.

“Well if it wasn’t Pitch, then what was it?!” Bunny shouts, getting out of his seat. Then North starts yelling. 

Their voices overlap, and the argument becomes incoherent. Bunny keeps cutting North off, forcing him to raise his voice higher and higher. Then Tooth chimes in, trying to play mediator, and they’re all trying to be heard at once. Jack's head hurts trying to keep track of who says what. 

“It was not Pitch—” he thinks North says. 

“But how do you know?” Tooth?

“You’ve lost your bloody marbles, tellin’ us—” That one’s Bunny. 

From the elves jingling by, offering cookies to everyone but Jack, to the bustle of the workshop sounding behind the door, to the logs popping in the fireplace, to Sandy's dream-sand images sifting over each other indiscernibly, everything keeps adding to Jack’s frustration, building, and building.

Jack twitches. Something burns hot in his chest, sparking—then igniting, putting a mad flush on his face. His expression grows tight. His shoulders hike up to his ears as he tries to fend it off—close his eyes, keep his cool—but his last thread of patience is pulled taut by the yelling voices.

“This was not Pi—!” 

The thread snaps. 

“Enough!” Jack shouts, and his eyes open. The temperature in the room drops several degrees. Ice crackles, slowly climbing the walls in fern-like patterns as a cold gust of wind blows around him. The irritation burns, but his powers nearly put out the fire from how cold they are. The flame flickers low, darkening the room.

That gets their attention. They all shut up, looking at him with surprised eyes. 

With a sharp huff, Jack starts talking, waving a hand. “Well, did your belly bother to tell you whether this disturbance was sinister or not? Just a thought. Y’know, since you haven’t really given us anything helpful?” Jack snarks irritably, then continues. “We’re grasping at straws here, North! What do you expect us to do?” he berates.

North holds up his hands placatingly. “Not sinister—different. It made that sound, a—a shriek!” Is his insistence. “You are not listening!” he accuses. 

Bunny deadpans, “You’re telling me that the shriek wasn’t sinister? When it shot at you?!”

North throws his hands up exasperatedly. “Yes!” he cries. Then the Guardians go right back to arguing. 

Jack scoffs, crossing his arms, and rolls his eyes. He tunes out the rest of the conversation.

They aren’t going to think of anything helpful right now. He’s done with this. 

He muses on that for a minute, before he gets an idea. Flashes. A memory.

Wind. Black wings. Scales. A saddle. A shriek just before firing. A boy, Jack’s chest to his back, high in the air. Racing, and winning every time. 

A shriek, he realizes. His eyes widen, catching on that thought. But then his brow furrows as he thinks about it some more. But they should be extinct, he thinks. They’d never been able to find another one, not when Jack was there. And it’s been too long since that time; the poor buddy would’ve passed by now. Along with…

Jack’s face falls.

… 

He moves on.

Maybe they did find another one, his brain argues then, and Jack bites his lip as he thinks about it. But at the same time, Jack hasn’t seen one of those creatures in any of the centuries since his return—or anything like them, for that matter. 

His knee bounces.

He doesn’t remember the last time he saw a normal lizard, let alone a giant, winged one.

Someone sighs, and Jack jerks up. He looks around, finally noticing the quiet room. 

Each of the Guardians has their own pensive expression, the silence pressing down on them. He sees brows furrowed in thought, feet tapping, arms crossed, hands to chins. From the looks of it, none of the Guardians seem to have any lasting ideas. There’s nothing. Jack's the only one. 

The fire crackles again, flames slowly climbing back to normal height, and the ice on the walls starts to drip from the heat. 

After another minute of searching their faces, Jack looks down again. He stares at his hands thoughtfully while the other Guardians brood. 

Black wings… he thinks again.

Silently, his mind wars, debating whether he should say anything. Cold fingers numbly twist the strings of his hoodie as he thinks about it, and he kicks his foot. 

His lips purse in thought.

Eventually, though, he does speak up. “Actually… There are other creatures that break the sound barrier, you know,” he says carefully, and twiddles his thumbs. Then he thinks about it. “Or—practically,” he adds after. All four Guardians turn to look at him. Four pairs of eyes blink at him in utter silence. Jack looks up and freezes. He blinks back.

He goes from feeling nervous to feeling judged in the span of two seconds, their eyes boring into him.

Yeesh. Talk about being put on the spot.

“Okayyy…” he drags out, grimacing. “Tough crowd.”

At last, someone reacts. 

Bunny scoffs and hops over to him. “Yeah? Like what? What, mate?” he says, getting into his space. Jack leans away from him, tensing. When he notices himself getting defensive, fists clenched nervously, he looks away, thinking about his options. Wonders if he should even say anything.

Because who knows? He could be totally wrong. Then Bunny would never let him live it down.

Jack swallows. “Well, why don’t we go find out?” he says, making eye contact again. He’s careful not to reveal anything. Bunny narrows his eyes at him, and Jack glares right back. “Or are we just gonna wait around like sitting ducks?” he challenges. 

Then Jack leaps to the ground, landing on his feet with barely a thump. He faces the other Guardians, watching their body language. He sees Tooth’s hands curl close to her chest, and watches Sandy cross his arms at him. Then he looks at North, who is staring at him with curious eyes. 

He continues. “We don’t know anything right now. And we won’t know anything unless we get off our butts and go check it out!” Jack urges them. “What is it we're waiting for?” he implores. 

North makes a thoughtful sound, then. “Jack brings good point. We cannot sit here wondering all day,” he says, scratching his beard. 

“Sure, but how will we get there?” Tooth adds, flitting from Guardian to Guardian nervously. When Sandy bats her away, she turns to North. “We don't know the exact coordinates, do we?” she asks, and North looks over to her. 

Slowly, a smile forms on his face. He digs through his pockets, rummaging around until he finds what he's looking for. Then he holds up the snow globe conspiringly. “The snow globe.” He grins without needing to say more. Everyone simultaneously rolls their eyes.

Bunny huffs like he’s stupid. “But we don’t know what it’s—”

“Sure we do. ‘Secret World’. Easy as pie. Anyways—” Somehow, that seems to clear all of their doubts, except Bunny’s, so North raises a hand. “All who concur say ‘Aye.’” 

“Aye.” 

“Aye!” Jack calls excitedly, thrusting his hand into the air.

An eyepatch-wearing pirate appears over Sandy’s head. 

With (almost) everyone in agreement, Jack groans, “Finally!” 

“Hey—!” Bunny starts.

“Great,” North says, and he smiles, giving a booming laugh. “Then it is time to go!” he cheers, and with that, he finally throws the snow globe. It rolls over the floor, and rolls, and rolls, until slowly, it comes to a stop.

At once, a blue portal appears in the middle of the workshop, swirling in front of them. 

They all tramp up to it, stopping in front of the opening hesitantly. North enters first obviously, stepping through with little trouble, while Sandy comes in second. Then Tooth whizzes in right behind them, giggling, “Yay!” 

Bunny, however, hesitates on the threshold. His jaw is tense, and he bounces on his toes. He hypes himself up. “Come on. Come on, it's just a portal. Just a portal, no big deal,” he mutters to himself. Jack watches him scowl at the portal for a while, psyching himself up to pass through, and out of pity, decides to give him a moment. “Come on, come on,” Bunny continues.

After the tenth anxious hop, though, Jack’s brows drop annoyedly. It gets to a point where he decides Bunny’s taking too long. “Anddd that's enough,” he chirps, and shoves him in. 

Bunny yelps on the way down, and Jack laughs at him, before jumping through with a large grin. “Whoo!” he cheers. He gets the normal motion sickness on the way through, stomach swooping as he’s yanked through space and time. “Yeah!”

When Jack finally gets to the other side, he trips over his own feet, laughing as he flails his arms to catch his balance. He stumbles to a stop, before righting himself. 

Then he finally looks up, and his jaw drops. He hears someone in the group choke. 

Bunny slowly rises to his feet, mouth parted.

The world absolutely explodes with color, and Jack twists, taking it all in.

All around them, blue waterfalls gleam in the sunlight, glinting gold and smelling like the sea as they pour. Jack follows the roaring water with his eyes, and watches as it crashes down to what seems like a bottomless pit of plantlife, ferns and bushes of all shapes and sizes sporting multiple types of green, flecked with water drops. Below them, crystals glow with bioluminescence in their own variety of colors: pink, orange, purple—whatever. 

When he finally glances at the ground, Jack realizes that he and the Guardians are actually standing on a giant mushroom, glowing with freckles. It has his mouth hanging open in shock. Until awareness returns.

He clicks it shut embarrassedly, flushing. His head turns quickly to look at the other Guardians, wondering if they saw him. His eyes skip over North and Tooth and Bunny, before suddenly landing on Sandy.

From his left, Sandy gives him a little smirk, and Jack’s lips pull into a scowl. 

He’s got to pull it together.

But his eyes immediately go back to the different flora—because at the same time, who could blame him? This place is absolutely beautiful, teeming with all sorts of magical elements. The ferns are gigantic, the mushrooms even more so—all of them somehow growing in some sort of humongous cave. 

His head swivels around as he takes in each piece of their surroundings. The crystals, the lights. With all of its magic—despite trying—he can't look away.

Jack blinks, gaining his bearings. Eventually he gets himself to speak. “So…” he starts, “this is the Secret World?” He watches a group of glowing lizards fly above them. Their small tails flow up and down gracefully, almost giving them the appearance of swimming underwater, but they’re too far away to see clearly.

North’s voice is awed when he speaks. “As far as I’m sure… I don’t—” he wavers. In the end, he doesn’t finish speaking, mouth closing with a click. His eyes are practically sparkling with wonder.

They all stare for a moment, positively gawking at the magic in front of them. He’s certain they’ve never seen anything like it—he thinks it might even rival the Tooth Palace!

Then, Jack is the first to hear it. A low, dull rumble. 

His ears perk up, and he starts listening. Jack strains to hear, closing his eyes.

…

Growling. 

It registers in his mind before anyone else, and his eyes open wide, because that means… “They aren’t extinct,” he breathes. But none of the Guardians hear him, finally noticing the sound.

In front of him, he sees them tense up, watches their hands quickly fly to their weapons to arm themselves. Sandy conjures his whip while North unsheaths his swords, and Tooth and Bunny pull out their fists and boomerangs respectively, raising them high. The growling picks up in volume, after that, lowering to a pitch that shows clear threat. One of them in particular sounds close—Jack’s ears are drawn toward it. 

Behind him.

Jack twists around panickedly, putting his back to the other Guardians, and crouches down low. His eyes dart all over, looking for the sound.

Darkness stares back at him. 

He holds an arm out to the other Guardians. “Put those down, right now,” he hisses lowly, and it gets their attention. Jack is too busy listening for the sound, though, so he only glances back once. The other Guardians haven’t moved, weapons stationary in the air. So Jack snaps at them, “I said put them down!” He swipes a hand at them frantically.

They blink, confused. Bunny protests first, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looks around wildly. “You’re crazy if you think I’m not defending myself, mate,” he counters, but Jack glares. 

“I said put. Them. Down,” he seethes, and they all stare at him. Their jaws drop, before—with great hesitance—the Guardians slowly lower their weapons, putting them back in their sheaths. The growling goes back to its normal volume afterwards, so Jack turns back around.

He creeps forward, further into the darkness—further away from the Guardians’. It’s their turn to hiss, each of them yelling for him to come back as quietly as they can, but Jack keeps his eyes trained forward. His feet pad softly on the mushroom.

“What are you doing?!” North whisper-shouts in his accent.

“Oi! Get back here!” Bunny says, but Jack still isn’t paying attention. He just keeps creeping forward, until gradually, they begin to appear. 

A pair of glowing yellow eyes peeks into view, tilting to and fro as they observe him. Then they start to get closer, and he hears the Guardians gasp behind him. 

“Jack—!” Tooth gasps. Her wings buzz loudly as she leaps for him, but someone grabs her by the arm and yanks her back.

Meanwhile, Jack holds his hand out toward the creature gently, but it doesn’t move anymore. 

He breathes slowly, taking a deep inhale. Then he looks back at the group, and murmurs. “Everyone needs to stay calm,” he warns quietly, before he returns to yellow eyes. 

He can hear its breath huffing out of its nostrils, giving him a curious sniff from out of view. Then it edges closer, long claws clacking against the mushroom before they peek out of the shadows. Huddled together, the other Guardians jump, flinching to grab their weapons again. But Jack holds a hand out to them to signal them to stay calm. To show them how serious he is, he drops his staff to the ground inch by inch. 

It hits the mushroom with a dull thud. 

With the staff gone, the creature finally creeps forward, peering out of the shadows curiously. It blinks at him, and Jack’s eyes go wide. Red and black scales shimmer in the low light, the beast balancing on claws attached to two large wings. It’s body is long and wiry, with black horns curling into waves on its head.

Jack breathes in awe. The world tilts a little as he takes it in.

A dragon. An actual dragon. 

He laughs, watching patiently as it crawls closer. But it stops about two feet away, suddenly growling. Flinching, Jack remembers at the last minute to pinch his eyes shut, turning his head to the ground. He holds his breath, bottling it in his chest. His shoulders are tense and rigid with fear, but he keeps his palm carefully raised in the air, going in blind. 

Just as he was taught.

Nothing happens. Seconds fly by as he waits for a reaction, feeling only the distant puff of breath against his palm. It's dry, he smells smoke, so he braces himself. His eyes squeeze tight, pulled taut, until—

Gently, the feeling of warm scales blooms against his skin. 

He chokes, letting out a disbelieved laugh, before he carefully glances at the dragon in front of him. He keeps his head turned away as he gives its snout a little pet, bringing his other hand up to scratch beneath its chin to test the waters. The Guardians behind him are oddly quiet as the Monstrous Nightmare coos gently, rubbing its nose against his palm, and Jack’s smile widens. He turns to it fully, petting it with a new passion. 

A memory suddenly appears.

Roasting fish over a small fire. Soot colored their faces grey, and made their hair stick on end; he remembers wiping at the layer hiding his freckles with a tut. They smelled like smoke. Tired grins spread across their faces as they leaned into each other, talking quietly, and a black tail wagged as the notoriously feared dragon swallowed his own dinner whole. He and Jack were side by side when he was offered a… gift. Terrible terrors cuddling up to them. Scales. Jealousy. 

The memory leaves him, and Jack deflates, shrinking in on himself. His heart twinges in his chest, and his lungs spasm. But he can feel his friend’s shocked stares boring into the back of his head, so he swallows roughly and looks over his shoulder, plastering on a cocky grin. “What?” Is his tease. “Never seen a dragon before?” he asks, and Tooth breaks out into the biggest grin he’s ever seen. North and Sandy look at him wide-eyed, but Bunny, in particular, scowls, pointedly backing away. 

His attention is stolen when the dragon pushes into his hand again, asking for more pets. It pushes hard enough that Jack almost falls over. But he catches himself and laughs, turning around to give it another scritch. 

There's no stopping the smile on his face. “Okay you big baby—more pets, I get it,” he jokes, and the dragon grumbles in agreement. It has him laughing a little louder, and the Guardians begin to mumble in confusion. He hears the tell-tale sifting of Sandy’s dream sand as he asks the Guardians a question.

Eventually, though, he has to get up. So he rises to his feet, leaving a hand on the dragon's head for just another moment. It snorts at him questioningly, and Jack looks down at its big eyes with sadness. “Okay buddy, easy now,” he says, offering one last pet. The dragon purrs happily, and Jack carefully lifts his hand.

The purring stops, and the dragon’s pupils narrow into half-slits. Jack tenses. He waits for a bad reaction, a nip or a scratch as his hand hesitates in the air, but there’s nothing. The dragon just looks at him. Slowly, Jack turns around, putting his back to the creature. From behind him, he hears the dragon grumble, then the flap of its wings as it flies off. 

Once it’s gone, his muscles release their tension, and his shoulders drop in a sigh of relief. Then he plasters on a carefree smile and strides towards the other Guardians. His steps are light against the mushroom. 

For dramatic effect, he kicks his staff up with his foot and casually snatches it out of the air. The Guardians stare at him as he saunters up to them, all of them startlingly quiet, biting their lips and bouncing on their feet. Tooth's wings are particularly quick. He waits for a moment after reaching them, taking in their wide eyed expressions with smugness. 

Rightfully, he’d say. 

“Alright,” he finally says, “shoot.” And they all blow up at once. 

Question marks and winged monsters rapidly blink above Sandy’s head as he gestures at him wildly. His eyes are practically bulging out of his head.

Bunny hops over to him threateningly, raising a fist. “What was that, mate?! Have you lost your bloody mind?!” he asks, then he goes on a tirade.
 

Tooth flies closer to him, wings buzzing quicker than normal. But somehow, she manages to ramble even quicker, smiling all the while. “That was so amazing! How did you know it wasn’t going to bite you? And did you see those teeth? They were absolutely humongous!” she rants. During her rambling, North is unusually quiet. 

“—at was irresponsible! You’re crazy!” Bunny continues. Then Sandy makes yet another frantic gesture. 

All of them clamor around him, getting in his face to ask for answers. Jack backs away, flinching at all the people invading his personal space. Until North finally speaks up. “What was that, Jack?” he asks, much more calmly, and that makes the other Guardians shut up. They back up a little, looking sheepish. Tooth puts her hands behind her back awkwardly while Sandy takes a deep breath. Bunny scowls, but gives him space. 

Jack feels himself deflate, breathing a sigh of relief. Then he smiles softly. “That was a dragon,” he says, and they all blink at him in wonder. Then Jack frowns. “Which…” He raises a brow. “—was incredibly obvious,” he can’t help from commenting. But then he gestures behind him excitedly. “But that one before was a Monstrous Nightmare, and I’m sure that there are going to be others if we loo—”

“What are you doing here?” He’s cut off by a commanding voice.

The five Guardians jump, taken by surprise. Then they quickly take out their weapons. Their heads twist around chaotically as they enter fighting stances, trying to figure out where the voice came from.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” it speaks again, and their eyes snap up. Above them, they see only darkness, except for two glowing green eyes. Then a large, black, winged figure drops to the ground in front of the group, and the Guardians flinch. The dragon’s descent is echoed by the sound of folding leather as it snaps its wings closed. Then it snarls. 

As if on cue, the growling of the other dragons gets louder—louder even than when they first got here. Then, from what Jack can tell by noise alone, what must be the dragon’s rider dismounts, landing with a thump and… a creak of metal?

The crystals around them seem to darken, taking away the light and obscuring the person in shadow.  Not that Jack can see past the group anyway, standing at the back like he is—but he isn’t worried about that. No, his head. It—

Jack remembers sitting on a table at—somewhere… while he worked. Jack was kicking his feet idly, while the boy sharpened a sword, which made him look small in comparison. Leather to the side of him. A kiss to Jack’s cheek every time he walked past—without fail. 

The house. Night. Drawings on the desk. The boy holding a needle. 

Sharp pain lances through the front of his brain, and Jack doubles over, raising a hand to his head. His face twists. Then he thinks:

…

The boy?

Then the voice speaks again, but this time Jack recognizes it as the voice of a man. Not a boy. But the slightly nasal quality to it still sparks that same, insane familiarity. It’s—

“Lower your weapons immediately if you know what’s good for you.” 

The forge. They were at the forge. The harsh roar of insulated flame. Older. He could lift the hammer now. Taller. He still kissed his cheek whenever he walked by, even though he was busier. Never stopped. He didn't have to reach quite as high anymore, and when he passed, the metal squeaked with every step. 

“You don’t want to know what happens if I have to force you,” he commands again, coming closer. “Drop them,” he says, and there’s one last squeak of metal as he, presumably, comes into view. The Guardians tense up. Jack still can’t see, but he looks over anyway, squinting, as if he could peer through the thick wall of bodies between him and that voice. 

Squeak of metal…

His eyes widen as it dawns on him. 

No, his mind insists. 

The Guardians sheath their weapons for the second time today, though this time, not out of trust. All of them are grumbling up a storm, reluctant to do it, but they obey. 

There’s no way. 

North is the first to speak up. “Who are you?” he asks, and the question is followed by an animalistic snort, then a… sarcastic warble?

The man shushes whatever made the sound. “Stop, Toothless,” he mutters, then starts to answer, “My name is—” 

It finally clicks. 

Jack’s staff clatters to the ground, and the voice stops, interrupted. The Guardians look at him in surprise, but he doesn’t even register it, shocked beyond belief. Hope rises in his chest, closing up his throat and choking him. He can’t breathe.

“Bit of a late reaction, but—” the voice snarks, but Jack interrupts him.

“Toothless?” he asks, and against all reason, he gets an answering croon. His mouth falls open, and his brows pinch together in pain. Then he starts pushing to the front of the group hurriedly. Fur and feathers both get shoved as he tries to get past the people blocking his path. There are many offended exclamations as he forces his way through. 

“Oi—” 

“Oof—”

“Jack?” North asks concernedly, but the spirit pushes him aside too.

Finally at the front, Jack freezes. A man in a helmet stands in front of him, armor covered in black scales. His head is tilted, and through the slits, the man’s eyes go wide, green. So green. And large. And staring in shock. 

Jack can only stare back, eyes flitting over his form hopefully. But he won’t know for sure unless—

Slowly, the man reaches for his helmet. His hand halts, hesitating on the lip of the face plate, before he carefully lifts it off. 

Jack stops breathing. His eyes stop on the man’s face.

Brown hair. Pale freckles. Thick brows, predictably furrowed.

The man narrows his eyes, looking at Jack closely—then he blinks in shock. “Wh—Jack?” he asks breathily. He squints.

Jack’s brows twist, eyes watering. His lip trembles. “Hiccup?” he breathes back. And they stare at each other. He hears the Guardians whisper behind him. His head tilts toward them a little, wavering, but he can’t take his eyes off Hiccup, so he just goes back to staring. His mouth parts.

A long moment passes where they just blink stupidly, before Jack bursts out into laughter. A smile immediately splits his face. Hiccup shouts, “Oh my gods—!” He grins, and then Jack throws himself at him.

Hiccup makes an oof sound, but catches him, laughing surprisedly. Jack’s arms wrap tight around his neck, and he clings stiffly, fingers slinking through the man’s brown hair. It’s so soft in his hands, he almost can't believe it.

Jack makes a grieved noise and squeezes him hard, so hard his arms tremble. He’s probably choking him, but Hiccup only tucks him further into his chest, burying his nose in Jack’s hair. The strands ruffle under his breathy laughs in a way that he’s missed so much, even before he got his memories back.

Jack doesn’t even care that the armor is digging into his cheek. He just tries to pull himself closer, and closer still, laughing as tears well up in his eyes. Though his laughter quickly turns into crying, which only makes frost bloom against his face in embarrassment. He hides his face in Hiccup’s neck as laughing sobs punch out of him. 

The smile doesn’t leave his face.

“I—I missed you so much,” he laughs relievedly, pulling back just far enough to stare at him, and Hiccup smiles his pretty smile, a cute gap in his teeth. Jack looks into his eyes for a moment, smiling back, before tucking himself into his neck for the second time in a millenium. 

His breath hitches quietly into Hiccup’s shoulder, and Hiccup tuts and rubs a gentle hand over his back. The solid weight between his shoulder blades makes him shiver. Then the hand slides up to his neck when his breath catches in his throat, and cups the nape firmly; then Hiccup squeezes him just the way he likes and it's over. The pressure immediately grounds him, and Jack sags into him with a harder sob.

He quivers, clutching tighter. His breath shutters in his chest as Hiccup presses a kiss to his head, rubbing that warm hand over the back of his neck. The top of his spine tingles at the contact, warmth blooming beneath his skin. It burns pleasantly, and he makes a wounded noise, again trying to pull himself closer. 

Randomly, Hiccup gives a troubled hum, feeling at his skin for a moment. His hand flutters, and he mumbles worriedly. “You’re so cold,” he says. Then he pulls back a little, looking at the white of Jack's hair with narrowed eyes. “And your hair!” He makes a weird gesture, staring at it confusedly. “I—I almost didn’t recognize you!” He continues staring. “But then—then—” Hiccup peters off. His brows furrow as he looks at the strands in bewilderment. 

Then he finally looks down, making eye contact.

Hiccup blinks a little, hand slowly dropping, and stares at him with his green, green eyes. Jack, rapturous, watches him pause, before, hesitantly, that callused hand moves to cup his cheek. His gaze flits between Jack’s eyes curiously, thumb smoothing over the skin underneath it with a tenderness that kills Jack’s soul. Trembling, Jack’s heart thrums loud in his ears, face slowly turning red.

After a minute, Hiccup’s brow quirks, the corner of his lip ticking up thoughtfully, before his face softens into something appreciative. “Well, that’s a nice shade of blue,” he comments dryly, jostling Jack’s head with a flirtatious smile. 

Jack blinks, broken from the spell. Laughing, he looks down, only to look back up again right after. He's not done staring. Hiccup is too gorgeous. 

Hiccup smiles, tilting his head a little. Jack looks at him, taking in his features for the first time in centuries. His eyes rove over the green of his eyes, to the freckles dotting his cheeks, the round shape of his nose—the curve of his lips. All of it. 

His lip wobbles, and Jack bites his cheek to get it to stop, inhale stuttering in his chest. When he’s had his fill, he closes his eyes, sinking further into his hand and leaning into it like a man starved. Hiccup’s palm practically bleeds warmth, and Jack nuzzles into it, quavering.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Hiccup mumbles to him, and Jack frowns. 

“Me neither,” he whispers painedly.

At that, Hiccup makes a wounded noise, and pulls him in again, holding him close to his chest. His arms squeeze tight around Jack’s shoulders, cupping the back of his head, and Jack buries his face into his neck once more, breathing in the crisp scent of pines, wind, and the metallic tang of iron.

He sighs, sinking bonelessly into Hiccup’s arms, and lets Hiccup hold him up. The smell envelopes him like a blanket, and the world falls away.

Then there’s a cough. 

Jack moans in frustration. “Go awayyy.” He groans loudly, nuzzling deeper. “What’s a guy gotta do to have a touching moment with his boyfriend? Huh?” he grumbles into the armor.

That gets Hiccup to chuckle, and he pulls away again, fully this time. Which has Jack grumbling even more. His hands reach up automatically, but Hiccup keeps them separated. “No, no,” he chastises. “Introduce me to your friends. It’s polite.” 

“But—” Jack protests, looking up at him pleadingly, but Hiccup cuts him off. 

“And now the whining. Yeah, I missed this.” He rolls his eyes, before he suddenly grabs Jack’s face again. He holds both cheeks in his hands, tilting his chin up so that Jack looks at him. Jack blinks, stuped. “Jack,” Hiccup murmurs. His brows furrow softly, holding firm eye contact, and he whispers, “Come on, we can do this when we're alone. Let's just wait a bit baby, what d’you think of that? Huh?” 

Jack's heart flutters. 

Oh. 

“This can wait,” Hiccup finishes softly, but a smile creeps onto his face anyway. Then, like none of that ever happened at all, he nonchalantly forces Jack to turn around. 

Jack numbly lets himself be directed, mind blown. He doesn't even process that hands are actively moving his body, frozen stupid and a little lost. Hiccup leaves an arm around his shoulders, though, keeping him slotted into his side.

Snapping out of it, Jack then scowls, but faces the other Guardians. All of them are staring at him in shock—and at this point, he can't really blame them. He's also wondering what just happened.

When he feels something snake around his legs, though, he gets distracted again and flinches. He quickly looks down. 

Toothless looks up at him with big green eyes, pupils black and wide. He makes a cooing sound, and warbles at Jack so cutely that he can’t stop himself from immediately cooing right back. “Ohhh!” He grabs at the Night Fury’s face and pets him lovingly. “Toothless!” he cheers. “Oh, I missed you too buddy. Just look at you, big guy—so fierce!” he compliments, and Toothless gives him a gummy smile. It has him giggling. Then he notices the new flaps on his spine, and points. “And look at these! You’re all grown up now!”

“Jack,” Hiccup calls, and Jack stands obediently. He turns around.

Then he processes it and scowls. 

Bunny laughs into his fist, choking. 

“We’re having a reunion,” Jack objects, and Toothless snorts in agreement, nudging his head around Jack’s legs to give Hiccup a glare. He garbles sassily, and Hiccup scoffs. 

“You can do that after you give us a proper introduction,” Hiccup scolds. 

“Oh, so I can wait, but they can’t?” 

“Oh, for the love of—! That’s not what I s—”

Toothiana saves the day. “Actually, I think we’ll just go,” she interrupts, and punches North pointedly. He looks at her, bringing his hands up in an offended question, before his mouth makes an ‘o’ shape. He purses his lips awkwardly. “There’s always time for introductions later.” She smiles. 

That's when North clears his throat, coughing into his fist. “Yes. Yes, we can catch up later,” he agrees. He rolls the snowglobe onto the ground, and the portal opens again. Bunny protests, though. 

He throws his arms out. “What do ya mean we’re leavin’? We didn’t even—” 

“In you go,” North interrupts him, shoving him through the portal. Peace and quiet returns.

Sandy sends Jack a knowing smirk, and, contrastingly, floats through the portal of his own free will. He has the audacity to send him a wink and make a kissy shape above his head on the way out though. But Jack only has it in him to be a little embarrassed, silently agreeing. He crosses his arms and gives Hiccup a glare afterwards, just to prove a point. Hiccup doesn’t even look at him.

Tooth gives him a smile and a tiny wave. “Bye! Have fun!” she giggles excitedly, before flying through. Which leaves only one person left.

North. He stays behind. Jack blinks, waiting for him to leave, but he stays put. It makes Jack frown in confusion. After checking that everyone is safely through, though, he turns a hard glare on Hiccup, and Jack gets it.

Ah. Yeah. That clears it up.

North stalks forward, boots threateningly thumping on the mushroom as he invades Hiccup’s personal space. Up close, crossing his arms only provides him more intimidation, and he towers over Hiccup with a glower contorting his face meanly. Hiccup has to actively look up to face him properly. Talk about deja-vu.

Toothless doesn’t even try to defend him! Though he seems pretty unimpressed, compared to his rider.

Jack rolls his eyes.

Smart dragon.

After a minute of silently sizing him up, North pokes Hiccup in the chest—once, twice. “You treat him good, understand?” he threatens, and then pokes him again. 

Hiccup stammers, “I uhhhhh—”

Finally having enough, Jack saves Hiccup by shoving himself between him and North, pushing at the man’s chest. He steers him toward the portal, sassing, “Ahuh. Yeah. Wonderful. Big, scary Russian man, threatening my boyfriend—whatever. You can save the shovel talk for later. Now go away.” He shoves him firmly, scowling.

Obviously, North doesn’t move very far, considering his size. But he does put his hands up when Jack throws him a harder glare, conceding. “Okay, okay,” he says in his accented voice. But then he glares at Hiccup again. “Next time, though.” He narrows his eyes, pointing at him. Then he walks through the portal. 

Finally, it closes behind him. 

Jack slumps. “God.” He laughs. “Like Stoick all over again, right?” he starts to joke, letting his guard down. But suddenly he gets dragged by the waist.

He yelps as he’s pulled backwards, lifted fully off the ground. He weakly grapples with the hands around his middle, then laughter punches out of him as Hiccup’s fingers squeeze tightly, trapping him while he pulls Jack into his arms. Hiccup gives a playful growl and then burrows his nose into the side of his neck, pretending to bite him and tickling him with his warm breath as he laughs too. It makes Jack giggle as he tries to both move away from and get closer to the sensation. 

But when Hiccup suddenly presses his lips there instead, Jack’s breath gives a weak hitch. He feels those lips ghost over the skin softly, trailing over his tendons, before leaving a small kiss.

“I see you're still allergic to shoes,” Hiccup comments wryly, out of breath, and Jack hums. 

“Y’know, funny you should point that out.” He cocks his head at Hiccup knowingly. “When’s the last time you took off your armor, you think?” he quips back, and Hiccup laughs loudly, dropping another kiss onto his shoulder. “Mm.” Jack moves a hand behind himself to clutch the back of Hiccup’s head, holding him there, and leans into it. He breathes shakily as Hiccup peppers more kisses to that spot. And when he finally speaks, his voice comes out hoarse. “God, I missed you,” he utters.

That makes Hiccup hum into his neck, lips vibrating against the muscle, before pressing another kiss behind his ear. He nips at the skin lightly, tongue laving over the section from between his teeth, before dropping it to suck on his earlobe instead. The sounds his mouth makes that close to his ear are obscene, wet, with small huffs of breath, and Jack’s stomach bottoms out, before the tongue disappears back into Hiccup’s mouth. Then Hiccup presses another sticky kiss to his neck, like it’s nothing—like that didn’t happen—and Jack’s knees finally buckle. Enough to force Hiccup to take the brunt of his weight. 

So much for keeping it together. He pants as Hiccup chuckles into his ear.

(But still, it’s a win, because it only makes Hiccup hold onto him tighter.) 

As Hiccup’s lips continue to ghost over his neck, leaving warm trails over his skin, his nose accidentally bumps into Jack’s braid, and the bead on the end makes a clicking noise. The coldness of the metal must shock him, because Hiccup flinches, pulling back to glare at it. His brows raise when he sees what it is, though. “You kept this?” he whispers, and brings a hand up to touch it. His knuckles brush against Jack’s neck as he rolls it between his fingers.

Jack pouts offendedly, shooting a scowl over his shoulder. “Of course I did. Have a little faith,” he complains. 

Chuckling again, Hiccup hums, before turning his attention back to Jack’s neck. He nips the meat of his shoulder playfully, before immediately soothing it again with a tender kiss. Then he buries his nose behind Jack’s ear, pressing another kiss there too.

Jack inhales shakily, and clutches Hiccup with a weak grip. 

“Me too,” Hiccup finally whispers, before he breathes in deeply. Then he shudders, hiding his face in Jack’s hoodie. “I missed you too,” he murmurs, voice muffling in the fabric. He shakes while he wraps around Jack, burying his face deeper. His arms squeeze tight over his ribs, chest pressed warm to Jack’s back, and Jack melts into it. 

His hands quake in Hiccup's hair, and Jack closes his eyes against it, dropping his head on Hiccup’s shoulder weakly. He takes a shaking breath, and it shutters out of him in a wobbly sigh. His ribs hitch as he tries to take another one. Any moment now, he fears his chest will collapse. But he just keeps taking deep breaths through the trembling. 

It reminds him of when they’d meet every summer, after Jack got off the boat. He’d run into Hiccup’s arms, holding him so tight his spine would pop, and they’d whisper reassurances. Sometimes Hiccup would choose to surprise him instead—tackle him from behind so that he could pepper kisses all over the back of Jack’s neck. It made him laugh every time. 

Now, they rock back and forth, swaying, surrounded by lights and dragons and plantlife. Until eventually, Hiccup speaks up again, tensing. “Am—Jack, am I really still your boyfriend?” he asks.

Jack’s eyes open from his reminiscing abruptly, brows furrowing. He turns his head a little. “Of—of course. Of course you are. What—?” He cuts himself off. He runs his fingers through Hiccup’s hair comfortingly, trying to reassure him, but he can’t take it anymore. It’s not enough. 

Jack twists around in Hiccup’s arms to look up at him, and cups Hiccup’s jaw in his palm, staring into his eyes imploringly. His cheek is so warm in his hand compared to the coolness of Jack’s… everything, and when he stares at him, he becomes acutely aware of it. 

Jack’s lip wobbles. He opens his mouth, ready to comfort him—but no words come out. So he closes it again, ashamed. Gently, he strokes a thumb over Hiccup’s freckles, following their path over his face with affection. They trail down his neck, before disappearing behind his armor. The freckles grow in number over his shoulders, he knows, even though they’re covered. He can still see them in his mind's eye. 

He smiles faintly at the memory, before looking back up to green irises. “Of course you’re still my boyfriend. I—” 

Hiccup interrupts, looking down distraughtly. “It’s been a thousand years, Jack. How can you still—” 

Jack yanks out of his grip, backing up. “Well it’s only been twenty-eight for me,” he barks heatedly. Hiccup’s head shoots up at that, face dropping, and Jack falters. He takes a small step forward. His hands hesitate in the air, before finally going back to Hiccup’s face. Jack’s brows twist as he tries to make him understand. “I’ve only been awake for 300 years, Hic. I didn’t—I couldn’t remember anything from before that. I didn’t—I didn’t have any of my memories. I only got them back twenty-eight years ago, and then—” His breath hitches, and he stops, looking down. He tries to breathe. “I know I was too late. I know I left. But I—I missed you so much,” he says, looking up again, and he rubs his thumb over Hiccup’s cheek.

Hiccup brings his hand up to Jack’s comfortingly, holding it against his face. He presses his lips to his wrist, eyes closing as he places a tender kiss there. The heat seeps into Jack’s veins, pooling where their skin meets, and Jack stops breathing. Then Hiccup pulls away—looks at him again, face twisted in pain as he leans into his cool palm. Hiccup observes him, Jack, like his existence hurts him.

He finally speaks. “I’ve been awake for 1,046 years,” Hiccup whispers, eyes watery. He breathes sharply. “I—” He shutters. “I’ve remembered everything since I woke up,” he says then. 

Jack’s heart plummets to the floor. “What?” he breathes. “That doesn't make sense. Why would—?” Hiccup doesn’t answer, he just looks at Jack painedly, chin twitching. Jack cries, “Hiccup!” and throws himself at him for the millionth time that day. 

Jack wraps tight around his neck, pulling him in, and Hiccup shudders. He burrows into him, squeezing Jack to his chest. Clothing and armor both are tugged and yanked in their effort to get closer, and Hiccup’s breath hitches as they bury into each other’s necks. “You were dead. You were dead, you died, Jack. You didn't come. I waited for so long. I couldn't—” 

“Hiccup—” Jack says again, and the man squeezes him even tighter. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m right here. It’s okay, c’mere.” He rubs a hand over his back, twisting to press a kiss to his jaw. The skin is a little rough on his lips, but he barely notices. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, before burrowing into his neck again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Hiccup shudders for a second time, before almost crushing him with his grip. He squeezes so tight that Jack feels his bones creak, but he couldn’t care in the slightest—just squeezes him right back. 

Jack waits for his breathing to come down, but Hiccup suddenly pulls away to look down at him. He holds his shoulders, eyes traveling over his face desperately. His mouth opens and closes, but his voice cracks before he can get the words out. Jack brings his hand to his cheek again, soothingly cupping it in his palm, looking into his eyes. Hiccup stays tense for another minute, before he finally relaxes. 

He nuzzles into it, eyes closing all on their own as he catches his breath. He's a mirror of how Jack acted only a few moments ago. 

Slowly, his shoulders start to loosen, and Jack immediately follows. They're in an interim.

Jack uses the time to take him in again, needing to know the differences now that—

His heart dims. 

Now that he knows how long it’s been, Jack thinks. 

So his eyes rove over Hiccup's face, taking in every detail. Jack notices that it’s slightly older than he remembers—early twenties, at least—jaw sharper. There’s the etch of a wrinkle in his brow—from thinking too hard, he’s certain. And there’s a faint scritch against the skin of his palm from—

Jack blinks in wonder. “You have stubble,” he comments, surprised. 

Hiccup huffs a laugh at that, finally opening his eyes. The corners crease from his smile. “And you don’t,” he teases back, swiping a finger over the smooth line of Jack’s jaw. Then he hooks it under his chin and tilts his head up. 

Jack’s breath stops. Then he just looks, looks at this stubborn Viking that he’s missed all this time, and his brows twist with hurt. It’s been so long—so long that he hasn’t been there. And—

But eventually, once the pain wears off, he smiles shyly, and Hiccup chuckles. “Come ‘ere, you,” he drawls, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Their lips meet in the center, moving softly, and Jack hums happily. His hips wiggle. He moves his hands off Hiccup’s face to hook them around his neck instead, pulling him down so that he can reach better. Hiccup bends to accommodate him. Their lips slide together, popping slickly when they separate, before they dive back in again. Then Jack makes a little noise, rising on his tip toes to get even closer. 

He kisses him with a new desperation. The juts of Hiccup’s armor dig into his forearms, but he couldn’t care less. Not when Hiccup matches his fervor, hands snaking beneath his hoodie and settling on his waist again. The rough calluses send hot shivers down his spine, scraping gently. 

Their skin sticks. The warmth spreads. His hands are large compared to Jack’s, fingers meeting in the middle of his spine where Jack’s couldn’t even begin to try. Then when Hiccup rakes his nails gently over the small of his back, his mouth opens in a silent gasp, and the sensation of prickles blooms pleasurably up the length of his spine. Then he completely falls limp.

Jack moans weakly as the viking catches him. “Woah,” Hiccup says, pulling him back up. Jack makes another noise as Hiccup leans him against his chest, resting Jack’s head in the crook of his shoulder. His body goes where guided. “Hey, you’re shaking like a leaf. What’s going on?” he asks worriedly. 

“It’s fine,” Jack croaks, wrapping his arms around Hiccup’s waist. He twirls one of his buckles nervously. “S’just… been a bit since I’ve...” he starts, and then he grunts, like that explains it. He’s too embarrassed to really put it into words, only tucking his head further into Hiccup’s neck.

“Mm,” Hiccup hums in understanding. He presses his face into Jack’s hair again, breathing deeply. Then he gives the spot a small kiss and sighs. “That’s okay,” he mumbles. “That’s okay, I’ve got you.” He rubs another hand over his back, pressing tight. Then something noses into the back of his knee, nudging insistently, and Jack looks down to see Toothless standing behind him with the biggest puppy-dog eyes he’s ever seen. Hiccup laughs. “Toothless, too,” he adds then. 

Jack grins, and placates the dragon by twisting around to pet him. Hiccup has to grab his waist so that he doesn’t fall, grunting as he takes his weight, but Jack manages. His nails scrape over black scales as he gives Toothless’ jaw a little scritch, and the buddy croons happily. He coos, “Who’s a good dragon? This guy right here! My vicious little Night Fury, yes you are.” He crowds close and gives him more scratches, and Toothless leans into it, smiling that gummy smile as Jack gets the itch. 

Hiccup croaks, “Jack—” and his arms shake. Jack rights himself immediately, whipping to check on his boyfriend. He hovers for a moment while Hiccup’s cheeks blow out in a sigh of relief. Jack’s hands automatically reach for his face, twitching, but Hiccup loosens his grip on his waist to push them away. “No.” Jack’s brows pinch in hurt, before Hiccup corrects him softly. “Hey, hey.” He grabs his arm. “Like this,” he directs, and wraps it around his neck. Then he yanks him forward, and Jack lands on his chest with an ‘oomph’. Hiccup’s arms wind over his shoulders, tucking him into his neck, and Jack relaxes. He nuzzles into it, settling down for another long hug. 

Slowly, warmth starts to reach his bones, soothing the ache that’s been bothering them for so long. All his muscles melt at once, turning him into a pile of goo. Hiccup, slumping, sighs into his hair and shoves his face into the strands. 

Jack hums. He buries his cold nose into the side of Hiccup’s neck, letting the warmth bleed into him. He lets the world fall away. 

He’s so happy to have him back…

Then a thought comes to him. 

Pressing a kiss to Hiccup’s neck, Jack mumbles. “Hey, handsome... Did you by any chance attack a flying sleigh this week?” he asks. Then he trails up and nips at his jaw. “Just wondering.”

“Mn.” Hiccup huffs, pushing his neck out to give him more access. Then he cups the back of Jack’s head, pulling him further in. Jack’s skull tingles pleasantly as he bites him again. “Yeah. Why?” he asks, distracted. 

Jack burrows deeper, hiding a smile. He presses another kiss onto Hiccup’s tendon. “No reason,” he says nonchalantly. He peppers more kisses over the muscle, fighting off a laugh. Then he shrugs. “Just remind me to give Toothless some fish later.”