Winter Comes to Berk

by D O'Shae

Foreword

A little over a year ago this story got posted (July 2015). It needed a good edit at the time, but the desire to work on other projects and stories forced the posting. Of late some free time came up, so – voila! – editing became possible. Mostly the story needed to be scrutinized for typos, missing words, extraneous words, or garbled sentences. Also, some complaints the story got posted in one long, flat file needed to be addressed. Distance in terms of time from a story also allows the author to examine the story without any personal attachment (or a much reduced one), and it makes editing easier.

Thus, Winter Comes to Berk underwent a fine tuning. The story received a structural change: namely, it got broken into chapters. Hopefully most, if not all, the typos got eliminated. Poorly constructed sentences and those that did not convey the correct meaning got revised. Missing words got added and extra words deleted. On the whole the story remained unchanged. The only exception is small chunk that got inserted into the last chapter to add some clarifying context.

As the author and after being away from the story for a good while, I found it rather fun to read as I worked through the edit. I hope the audience, both old and new, find it equally as enjoyable and now easier to read.

Thanks to all who took time to leave a comment or send a private message. Most appreciated.

- DOS, August 2016

Time frame is roughly one year after Stoick's death. This tale assumes complete familiarity with How to Train Your Dragon I and II, along with Rise of the Guardians. Some liberties are taken.

Chapter One

"I don't know, bud," Hiccup said after landing Toothless on an island even he only guessed where it lay on the map. "Think we backtracked enough to throw them off?"

Toothless gave Hiccup a half-grin and waggled his head. If anyone or anything knew how to get them lost, then Toothless held the title as reigning king. Except the dragon never acted or seemed lost. Hiccup scratched the beast under the chin, the tough but supple scales depressing slightly in the act. Toothless sighed in pleasure. For a moment, Hiccup envied the dragon could be so content with such a simple act. Then the young man turned and faced the gray horizon where the line between the land and ocean became invisible to the naked eye. Below the waves crashed against the rock of the small, unnamed island. Underfoot tough moss clung to the rock and acted as the only padding.

"She gets so… touchy, I guess, all the time now. I mean, it was fine when it didn't seem like it meant too much, we were best friends, but now," and Hiccup whistled to underscore his point.

He fixed his green eyes on the midnight-colored dragon who flopped over onto his back and rubbed his spine and wings on the hardy lichen. Toothless mumbled in quiet pleasure. Hiccup stared at what could only be called his best and closest friend. Despite the fact they came from two separate species, it seemed they understood one another better than any two humans ever could. Hiccup sighed because he knew he found the central problem of his young life.

"Why can't one person just… understand me like you do?" He complained to his reptilian companion.

Toothless sat up onto his haunches and stared at the human. The yellow-green eyes with the rectangular irises looked at Hiccup with undiluted affection. The blocky, square head turned slightly at an angle.

"I know: tough question. But I never have to explain anything to you, even though I do… all the time, but it's not like you demand it. You just listen most of the time."

The dragon warbled at him.

"Ever since Dad died and that whole fight with Bludvist and Mom coming back and Gothi making me the chief… everyone just expects so much from me," Hiccup stated his list of irritations. "And Astrid already acts like she's the chief's wife… and I haven't… don't…"

Hiccup trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He knew what Astrid wanted, but since the death of his father everything he thought he knew about himself once again came into question. The demands of being chief forced him to reconsider himself in light of the expectations. Despite rising admirably to the task in his own way, Hiccup continued to remain doubtful about being chief. Days and days spent planning for the entire community meant he could not take to the skies as much or as often as he wanted. Sometimes Toothless became impatient. In the last three months, Hiccup began to demand the right to go off on a flight at least once a week. His people balked when he further demanded the right to do so alone. However, no other dragon could keep pace with Toothless. His mother, ever thoughtful, questioned him on the need.

"You know it scares them when you go off like that and no one knows where you are?" She quietly asked him one night two months prior. "Their sense of safety rests in you and your dragon."

"I know, Mom," Hiccup replied and sighed while looking over a list of needs the people presented him. "But Toothless is a dragon and I am his rider. He needs to get out and fly sometimes."

"Perhaps it's time you let another ride Toothless on the days when you can't," suggested his mother.

Both Hiccup and Toothless instantly snapped their heads up to look at her with complete shock. Memories of Drago riding Toothless still burned in Hiccup's mind, and the idea of anyone else sitting astride the night fury became repellant. Even the dragon appeared to oppose the notion. Since neither would consider it, they forced Berk to accept that sometimes their chief would head out alone. To allay the fears of the people, Hiccup always appointed a second to keep his place. More often than not he chose Astrid. She balked at the idea almost as fiercely as Hiccup rejected the notion of another riding Toothless.

"Why me?" She complained in private the first time he selected her. "Did you ever think maybe I want to go with you?"

"Yes, and part of what I want to do is spend time with Toothless! I spend a lot time with you almost every day!" He countered.

"Are you saying you don't want to spend time with me?" Astrid growled the question, and anger sparked in her eyes.

They sat across from each other at the dining table in longhouse built (often rebuilt) and owned by his family since any could remember. Astrid reliably wore her blue-gray, short-sleeved, wool sweater with the small iron pauldrons attached at the shoulders, beneath which her leather battle skirt hung. She appeared every inch a warrior woman. While Hiccup of late enjoyed watching male warriors practice their craft, it did very little for him in the way of Astrid. At the moment, he worried she would use her fighting instincts to wrestle the truth out of him.

"You're taking this all wrong," Hiccup said and sighed. "Look, all my days are planned. Every moment is filled from the time I wake up to the time I lay down. It seems like all I have any more are the worries about the clan. Sometimes I need time and space to myself… and for Toothless who gets ignored way too much. I don't see you ignoring Stormfly the same way!"

Some might say he used a cheap shot in the argument, but it worked. Only another dragon rider could understand the compelling desire and need to spend time with the creature. Astrid glared at him. Since the day Gothi made him chief, the relationship between him and Astrid started to change. Feelings and thoughts Hiccup thought long buried began to resurface. The death of his father seemed to clear a path in his mind to consider what he actually wanted out of his life. When he grew discomfited by the presence of Astrid, Hiccup channeled his emotions into a desire to fly.

"They just don't get it," Hiccup said while stowing the recent memories away and glancing out over the choppy waters of the ocean.

Toothless waddled up next to him and butted his shoulder with his ebony head. In a well-practiced motion not needing direct thought, Hiccup began to scratch the dragon in all the right spots. Toothless half-melted against him.

"Something's wrong with me, Toothless," Hiccup whispered to his currently deliriously happy dragon. "I see Astrid, but… what am I supposed to feel? I mean, look, half the time when I see someone like Eret or Gottfried… I just feel different. I get them. They don't confuse me. They sort of… you know, make me feel warm inside."

Toothless did not appear to be paying attention so long as Hiccup continued to scratch his hide. The winged beast gurgled and warbled with satisfaction. Hearing the contentment of the dragon tended to calm the young man. Hiccup continued to scan the sea and sky as though an answer lay hid amid the clouds or waves. He sighed.

Berk lay in the middle of a chain of islands stretching out for hundreds, if not thousands, of miles. The chain bowed against the northern pole of the world. Winters tended to be fierce and hard. Summers did not vary much except for the warmer temperatures and the discernible lack of snow. Up until seven years before, the main problem facing Berk tended to be dragons. Hiccup, however, turned that situation around. Once the dragon menace ended and they became part of the Viking life, the only troubles facing Berk centered on marauding bands of other Vikings that wanted to take advantage of the peace and newly discovered prosperity. Hiccup's father, Stoick, guided them through those first tumultuous years after discovering the friendly nature of dragons. After his death at the hands of Drago Bludvist, the task fell to Hiccup. Hiccup longed for the days when he only had Toothless to worry about. Now his worries included all of Berk.

Hiccup sat down to gaze at the sea and wonder over his predicament. Since hairs first started growing on his chin, he knew he differed from his friends. At first he thought it simply his empathic relationship with dragons. However, time spent around Snotlout and Tuffnut showed him another side of himself. He felt more at ease and relaxed around them. Then he began to notice his reaction to others did not quite follow the same path one would normally expect, especially when it came to Astrid. Hiccup avoided dealing with his confusing feelings and thoughts by channeling it into the care and training of Toothless. However, it gnawed and nibbled at the periphery of his consciousness at all times. Before the battle with Bludvist, Hiccup sometimes found himself staring airily at Gottfried or Sledgehead. The simple sight of them made him physically react.

"What is wrong with me?" He called aloud to the chill late summer wind.

"Nothing," he thought he heard the wind reply.

Hiccup knew he did not imagine it because both he and Toothless sat bolt upright and started looking around. The young man stood up and cautiously surveyed his surroundings. The flat top of the deserted island offered no hiding places. The rocks did not provide cover except for the smallest of birds or insects. Hiccup reached out to touch the reassuring presence of the dragon.

"You heard that, too, right, bud?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless let out with low, soft growl. Taking that as a cue, Hiccup buckled his jacket, snagged his helmet from a hook on the saddle, and mounted his flying companion. He then strapped himself in. All the while he continued to glance around searching for the source of the single word. No one else occupied the island. It unnerved Hiccup, and he directed the dragon to jump off the cliff. Toothless allowed them to drop three-quarters of the way before spreading his wings and taking flight. He arched his neck and the two shot skyward into the clouds at an incredible speed.

"Wow," the voice said.

With no living person around to cause the natural reaction, a body slowly resolved into view. A young man who looked perhaps a year or two younger than Hiccup appeared and stared overhead where the duo disappeared into the sky. His scanned the heavens with ice-blue eyes set into a rectangular face with pale skin. Moreover, his shaggy white hair waved in the breeze for which he could not be held responsible. He carried a staff in his left hand, a crook really. His pale fingers wiggled against the cool wood. Dressed in a blue hooded shirt dappled with frost along the shoulders and arms, one he got from a place very far away, seemed at odds with his calf-length brown leather breeches. Had any saw him, his striking appearance became more so since he stood barefoot on the cold surface of the island. The peculiarity grew as the young man did not appear to even notice the chill air on his feet or the exposed skin of his legs.

"Who was that?" He asked out loud.

Jack Frost did not receive an answer. It simply added to the myriad of questions in his mind. Weeks before he found himself in a battle with a creature called by others a blue troll. The troll, magical like Jack, stole silently around children and absorbed all their happy thoughts, leaving them with a deep, lingering sense of depression. Jack, as a Guardian, went after the trolls to protect the children. Since becoming a Guardian many years before, and principally as the elemental Spirit of Fun, Jack seriously took to his responsibilities for the first time in his long existence. Thus, the battle with the blue troll registered high on his to-do list. It came with a price.

Blue tolls could snap in and out of places using a strange dark vortex created by magic. None of the other Guardians understood how it worked, and the Man in the Moon never explained it. Santa Claus thought it similar to his orbs, but he never discovered a way to control the vortices. Bunny argued the same logic regarding his tunnels. During Jack's fight with a particularly malignant and stubborn blue troll, it tried to escape using a vortex. Jack grabbed onto the foot of the creature and got dragged along for the ride. Midway through, he lost his grip. Jack tumbled in the darkness for what seemed like ages, unable to direct his flight in the formless void. Finally, in pure desperation, he simultaneously used his power of flight and control of cold and wind to find a direction. It caused a rip in the vortex and he fell through.

Unlike all other times, Jack did fall. He fell downward until he landed on an upthrust of rock in a seemingly endless sea. Only the barest of luck allowed him to hang onto to his staff. Without it, he could not begin to imagine how helpless and hopeless he would feel. However, when Jack tried to control the wind, it resisted his powers. Cold and frost, too, did not want to obey. It took him numerous days to gain any semblance of his command over the elements, and it turned out to be a tenuous command at best. Flight, fortunately, still came to him. It did not actually depend on elemental forces. Thus, Jack began to fly in a slow spiral at a great height over the sea. Little by little he discovered the area around where he landed. It looked like nothing he ever recalled.

"Where am I?" He begged the winds that would not listen to him.

Jack lost count of the days before he first saw a ship on the wide ocean navigating between the staggering number of small, vacant islands. He swooped down to spy on sailors and to hopefully glean some information as to his whereabouts. To his dismay, Jack found he did not really understand their language. It many ways it sounded like Dutch or German to him, with a touch of old Pictish thrown in, but he could not fathom the words. The lingering apprehension in his stomach began to turn to fear. It only took a short while before Jack began to detest his reaction.

"I'm Jack Frost! I've faced worse!" He shouted to the undulating seas and the rocking ship. None of the people on board gave any indication they heard him.

An idea formed in his head, and one borne from his past. Jack spent his time finding ships with children aboard. Thus, his magical ability to interact with and understand children came into play. By staying close to ships, often long vessels with a shallow draft and wide spar propelled by large square sail hoisted on a mainmast in the middle of the craft, and hovering near the children, some of his innate magical abilities began to function. Over the course of several days the language of the children began to make sense to him. He learned much even if he did not understand all the nautical terms. Jack also discovered he could not be seen since this place did not appear to believe in him. Once again he found himself invisible and unable to truly affect anything.

The obvious took shape after coasting along with several ships for days on end, and he said to himself: "This isn't home, and… I don't know where I am!"

The staff became even more important to Jack as it served as the only link to the world he understood. One other discovery came upon him: talking to himself lost its allure since he became a Guardian. He enjoyed the interplay with the other Guardians and, especially, the children he constantly urged to get outside and have fun. In many respects, it appeared to Jack he arrived back at square one just like when he first became an immortal, elemental being. A sense of dread came over him when he failed repeatedly at directly interacting with children. To keep from falling into a complete depression, Jack focused on learning as much about these people as he could. He was nothing if not determined.

The true benefit of flying around and following ships came in what he learned besides the languages. Without a doubt Jack landed very far from home: in fact, he landed on another world. Magic could be tricky, and it told him the blue trolls possessed greater power than the Guardians suspected. However, it also seemed as though they used it by instinct instead of by insight. If that turned out to be the case, then the implications became less terrifying. On a more positive note, Jack found out some of the tribes of people who, in an ironic twist requiring further thought, called themselves Vikings and managed to tame the dragons Jack saw from time to time. He recalled the first person he saw and the way he interacted with the dragon. The beasts made him uneasy, but knowing they could live compatibly with people brought reassurance.

"Papa says we'd have to go to Berk to see it, and he doesn't want to go there," a young girl told her even younger brother. At some point she made a dragon doll constructed from scraps of cloth and currently made it fly through the air by throwing it around.

Jack sat in a corner with his crook across his lap interacting with the children as best he could by blowing small cold drafts at them, and watched their surprise. The temperature in the room nestled in the hold made it impossible for him to draw frost ferns for their delight. Hence, he accepted his role as an observer.

"Dagon!" The boy who appeared no older than two years incorrectly pronounced the word and chased after the makeshift replica.

"Dragon," his sister corrected him. "You shouldn't like a skullcrusher anyway."

"Kullkush," the boy giggled and rolled on the floor of the family quarters located in the cramped stern of the hull.

"Kullkush," Jack repeated into the boy's ear and blew a ticklish air across the child's neck.

He left the two with the boy laughing gleefully at being tickled. For a brief moment, Jack thought the child looked directly at him. A tingle went through his body as he sailed through side of the craft and into the air. Conflicting thoughts went through his mind while he soared overhead high into the sky as he held his staff at his side. Before he realized it, Jack found himself at an incredible altitude and in the midst of a squad of dragons. The silvery scales twinkled in the sunlight and the long horns adorning the heads and down the backs gleamed as well. These dragons tended to be shorter than most Jack spied from time to time, but they soared an almost unparalleled distance from the ground. Even without the cloud cover below, he realized no one would see these creatures. Jack flew down toward the surface of the world.

Shortly after listening to and learning from those children Jack encountered the lone dragon rider. Since that day a lingering curiosity over the identity of the young man stayed with him. The snippets of self-talk Jack heard made him wonder as to what the stranger faced that would drive him to such a deserted and lonely island. The destination, the Spirit of Fun decided, reflected something inside the dragon rider. The lanky man spoke of a dead father and people who did not understand him. Jack understood that. During both his mortal and immortal life he rarely met those who fully appreciated what he offered in life. Only the Man in the Moon saw value in him and, in doing so, made the other Guardians see it as well. Thus, Jack wanted to find the young man and see what his life truly contained. His search took on a broader meaning.

A score of days went by until Jack finally created a mental map of the island chains. He learned the locations of all the main islands inhabited by people, although some places he never wished to visit again. Still others seemed homey with agreeable folk who went about scratching out a living in the hard, unforgiving lands and seas in which they resided. Eventually, he found the island called Berk. Tales and legends turned into fact. Regardless of the many exaggerations he heard, Jack discovered most of the stories to be true. Berk stood out from the rest. Thus, he contented himself with hanging about and learning what he could from these people who tamed dragons and added the sky as their domain.

A few of the residents sparked Jack's immediate interest, especially the ones who rode dragons. Some days he would sit perched on the top of his crook in a corner between buildings watching the activity. Slowly but surely he discovered names to go with the faces. He found the young man he saw on the island: the rider of the nimble, lighting-quick black dragon. Not only did Jack's subject ride a dragon, but he also served as the chieftain of the village. This intrigued him since the one called Hiccup seemed uneasy with the mantle of authority. He understood the young man's discomfort in having such power and responsibility deposited in his hands.

"No," Hiccup declared while seizing a hammer and walking to an anvil with a hot, glowing piece of steel held in a pair of tongs. "I will not just sit in the longhouse and listen to everyone complain. It's like they can't even figure out the simplest things for themselves!"

Jack sailed around Hiccup who bitterly vented to the large and stout, blond-haired, long-mustached man who also wore a polished piece of metal for a tooth. Dressed in a mix of rough clothes and fur, adorned with a horned steel helmet, the older of the two appeared every bit a Viking that Hiccup did not. The man rolled his eyes and fiddled with an apparatus where his left hand should be. He then scratched his buttocks.

"It's not like ye have a choice, Hiccup. Ye're the chief and that's what chiefs do. Do ye know how many hours yer father spent sorting out sheep for people?"

"Yes, Gobber, I do, and now I know why he was so grumpy all the time. Is there something wrong with us?" The much younger man inquired while hammering the metal on the anvil and sending sparks sailing around him.

A large, lumpy dragon – similar to the species rode by one of Hiccup's close friends name Fishlegs – lay on the floor snoring. Small wisps of smoke issued from the nostrils. It seemed so completely content and unconcerned that moving in the workshop became difficult.

"Well, good question that, lad, but I don't have an answer for ye," the man called Gobber replied and leaned against the dragon as he would a wall. "Might be we got our noodles cooked one too many times while fighting dragons back in the day."

Hiccup shook his head in either disbelief or dismay and said: "The basket clearly belonged to Mangletooth 'cause she wove her design into it, but Sticky still wanted to claim it as hers. It took over an hour to settle the argument!"

"What'd ye do, Hiccup?"

"I told them to use it on alternating days and I actually had to create the schedule for them," Hiccup darkly explained as he shook head again with seeming disdain.

Jack watched the russet locks swirl around the young man's head. A few small braids twisted into his hair refused to move. Hiccup stood lanky and lean dressed in his leather riding attire he seemed to wear all the time. Unlike most of the people in Berk who tended toward stoutness, Hiccup's leanness stood out. Moreover, he clearly possessed a much different character than his clan members. Jack floated up to a rafter and settled on it to follow the conversation. He hooked his staff on his shoulder and it hung down, invisibly, above the heads of the two Vikings.

"See, right there is what I'm trying to tell ye. That is what a chief does: he settles the disputes so everyone is happy…"

"Neither of them were happy, Gobber!"

"Then at least they're equally unhappy. Same thing and just as good," Gobber weirdly complimented Hiccup.

"You're just as impossible as them," Hiccup quipped.

Gobber pushed himself into a standing position, and the dragon neither budged nor woke, and walked over to the young chief. He placed his remaining thick, powerful hand on the slender shoulder of Hiccup. Hiccup barely winced when the man gave it squeeze.

"It's that big brain of yers, Hiccup, what everyone looks to," the man comfortingly told him. "Look what we've become… how much better it all is, lad. Ye led us to this life, and now ye've got to show us how to live it."

Jack nodded at the simple wisdom of the words. He discovered over the time spent there that Gobber served as an adviser and mentor to Hiccup in the absence of Hiccup's father. Jack's attention broke for a moment when several small dragons of varying colors but clearly the same species fluttered in and perched next to him. Not one sat in his incorporeal form. Two looked at him, and Jack thought they could see him. He stared in wonder.

"I never signed up to give life lessons, Gobber. I thought being chief was all about organizing and getting people to do what needs to be done so they don't die in the middle of winter… which I hardly need to remind you is going to be here soon," Hiccup argued and swung the hammer several times to beat out some of his frustration.

The room echoed with loud clangs. One of the dragons sitting next to Hiccup fluttered its wings in half-fright. Jack heard them called terrible terrors, yet everyone seemed fond of the dragons even if they did get into mischief. One of the elders, an ancient woman named Gothi, seemed to collect the miniscule dragons. Jack bent down near the startled creature.

"You're okay. He's just making noise," Jack whispered.

The dragon warbled and calmed. Jack now knew the dragons could somehow sense and hear him despite his lack of solid form and current state of invisibility. It brought him a bit of comfort and made him feel more real.

"… expect a chief to do?" Gobber finished a question, half of which Jack missed.

"That's not leading: it's babysitting!" Hiccup all but yelled and struck a fierce blow on the anvil.

The terrible terrors took flight, squawking in alarm, and shot out of the workshop.

Older and younger man stood regarding one another. The dragon laying on the floor cracked open an eye. It surveyed the scene, and then closed it. Jack floated down from rafters and stood behind the young chief, leaning against his crook.

"We all have duties we don't always like, Hiccup," the Guardian said hoping in some way his words might sooth him.

Hiccup swung his head around and stared. He rubbed the back his neck. For a brief moment Jack thought Hiccup saw him, but the Viking's eyes shifted around.

"Look, winter is coming, I can feel it," Hiccup said, rubbing his neck again, and returned his glance to his mortal friend. "The people of Berk have got to learn to think for themselves and stop wasting my time with these… these… ridiculous and petty squabbles."

"Whoa, there, laddie. Ye forget yer time is their time. The chief don't own his day any more than one dragon owns the land, sea, or sky. Ye might get to barrow an hour or two for yerself, but ye don't get to keep them all," Gobber replied and did not sound conciliatory.

"This isn't fair!"

"It's the way it is!"

Hiccup stood mute for a moment. A dangerous glint appeared in his emerald-green eyes. Then he dropped the hammer, the piece upon which he worked, and stormed out of the workshop. He barely got three feet from the door when several of the villagers rushed up to him. However, one look at his face sent them scurrying back. After he cleared workshop, the chief glanced at the sky.

"Toothless!" Hiccup called while continuing to stroll forward.

The dragon did not appear, and the dragon rider appeared even more vexed. Hiccup stomped through the village toward his house. The people looked on knowing their leader to be in a foul mood and gave him space.

Jack, in the meantime, floated behind the young clan chief. Since arriving on Berk and getting to know the locals to some degree, he viewed Hiccup as fascinating for a myriad of reasons. He found it hard to believe someone so young could rise to such a prominent position. However, Jack saw Hiccup rise to the challenge nearly every time. The young man possessed a wisdom beyond his score of years and tended to be a good leader both with the villagers and the other dragon riders. At the same time, the Spirit of Fun understood the extraordinary pressures the title placed on Hiccup.

He, Jack, also carried the weight of responsibility in his role as a Guardian. Even though he found himself cut off from his world, his instincts still insisted he carry out his duties in this strange land. When not following certain villagers around, Jack used his powers to invoke in the youngsters a sense of joy, a love of the ridiculous, and a sense of adventure. On evenings when the temperature dipped low enough, he painted faint ice fronds on few windows in the village. Even several of the older children, some being very old, received his attentions. At the moment he focused on their chief who seemed to need his gifts most of all.

Hiccup did not hear or see Jack as he stormed across the central square of Berk, past the dragon stadium pathway, toward the longhouse that served as the administrative headquarters along with being a nightly gathering place. Hiccup stomped past the longhouse toward his house sitting a short ways off and up the bank of northern protective hill. He grumbled to himself, disappointed Toothless did not show, but it did not surprise him. Since becoming chief, he spent most of his day seeing to the needs of the villagers. Thus, Toothless learned to occupy his time when Hiccup became unavailable. Mostly the night fury spent time bathing in the ocean, sunning on the beach sands, finding or hunting food, and engaging with other dragons. Both dragon and rider often suffered a lingering low-level depression at being separated.

"At least he gets to have fun," Hiccup grumbled to no one, although one did hear him. "Why did I ever agree to become chief?"

"Because that's who you are," Jack replied next to Hiccup's ear.

Hiccup's hand shot up to the side of his face and he stopped moving. A light chill ran across his cheek. He rubbed his ear against a perceived breeze, but noticed nothing else moved in the late autumn day. His senses prickled. Something odd took shape of late, and he repeatedly felt the strange instances of cool air. Seeing nothing amiss despite his wariness, Hiccup continued his march to the house. Jack hung back a few paces, stunned by Hiccup's reaction to his presence. In less than fifteen minutes the young chieftain appeared to twice notice the elemental's proximity. He found it both encouraging and unusual, and worth further contemplation once certain Hiccup reached safety.

"Mom!" Hiccup bellowed when he entered his house.

Quiet greeted him.

"MOM!" He yelled again just to prove her absence. He waited a second and replied to himself: "Probably off with Cloudjumper."

Hiccup routinely envied his mother. Her knowledge of dragons vastly outstripped everyone's, having lived with the beasts as a protector for twenty years. Valka, his mother, used her understanding to train other dragon riders, dragon medics, and the villagers who took on the creatures as companions if not pets. Few would call a dragon a pet. When not with dragons, Valka acted as an adviser and confidant to her son since she only reconnected with him as a young adult. Mothering Hiccup did not seem like a wise endeavor. Both son and mother respected one another for their varied talents and learned to work in harmony. Part of the harmony rested in knowing when to give the other space. Thus, Valka occupied herself at the dragon training grounds or the dragon cavern during most of the day. It relieved Hiccup to know he was alone, or so he thought.

Jack watched as Hiccup climbed the precarious set of stairs cut into a single thick log to room he built for himself and Toothless long ago. He situated his wide bed against one wall far from the stairs. A nest made of a thick slab of hardwood for Toothless rested against another wall. An ingenious portal Hiccup invented so Toothless could enter and leave as he pleased sat above the dragon nest. Across from the nest along the third wall could be found Hiccup's bureau and desk. Various drawings, notes, and sketches of ideas hung tacked above the drafting table. All of these Hiccup ignored as he walked slowly toward his bed. He pulled a small chain hanging against the wall next to the stairs. Five glass-enclosed sconces, each connected to the chain, situated higher up the walls sparked and light poured out from the new and growing flames in the clever gadgets. A warm, yellow glow flooded the room. Then, as he walked along, the chieftain began to shed his leather clothing and riding gear.

Jack floated to the desk where Hiccup's inventive genius found an outlet and sat invisibly on the surface without disturbing a single item. He drew his legs up and hugged them to his chest after leaning his staff against the table. Why it stood instead of falling through even Jack could not explain. Of late he enjoyed watching Hiccup free himself of the constrictive yet vital armor he wore. Bit by bit the lean, lanky frame revealed itself. Jack became utterly engrossed. Hiccup had to be the thinnest Viking around. This did not mean he lacked muscle. To the contrary, his body became very firm and toned from years of dragon wrangling. People often underestimated the strength he developed. His long, wiry limbs gave him leverage and reach. Yet Hiccup's skin fascinated Jack the most.

"Did I ever look anything like that?" Jack asked, thinking back to the far off days of his mortal being. He held out a hand and looked at the off-white flesh with a faint ruddiness tinged blue in places. As an elemental being of frost, he took on appearances befitting his role. Until he became a full-fledged Guardian, Jack often wondered at his own existence. The Man in the Moon seldom spoke and rarely, if ever, offered direct answers. Even the memories he got from his baby teeth did not answer all questions. Many mysteries of his former mortal life remained.

"Gods, is that itchy," Hiccup said with relief when he shucked off his pants, leaving himself clad in a close-fitting undergarment made of a thin fabric that ran from mid-thigh to just under his navel. He scratched himself in several private spots.

Jack snickered as he observed.

Hiccup flopped onto his bed, turning around mid-flop so he landed on his back. Jack, still hunched and hugging his legs, floated upward and outward until he came to rest on the small table next to Hiccup's bed. He wanted a closer look at the young dragon rider laying spread-eagle on his bed sighing in relief.

Hiccup's proved to be a true red-head since the hair under his arms, the thin trail starting at his navel and shooting southward, and the strands on his legs all reflected the same ruddy sheen. Because he spent so much time dressed in riding gear, only Hiccup's face and hands sported any form of tan, and that came mostly from windburn. The great majority of his flesh appeared a creamy, somewhat sallow color. It did not look sickly in the traditional sense. Rather, his skin tone appeared that way due to multitude of freckles covering his body, but concentrated on his shoulders, arms, and legs. The russet spots changed the overall hue of the pale skin.

Jack glanced at his hands, parts of his exposed legs and feet, and said: "Not a mark."

Somehow in the transformation to an elemental, Jack's skin became virtually flawless. He could not remember if freckles or moles ever dappled his flesh. He knew a scar from a cut he got as younger child disappeared when he emerged from the cold, frozen lake on the day he passed from mortal existence. In truth, Jack could not say for certain if his body possessed any reality other than what he thought it did. Only the belief in his existence by children gave him solid form when he chose to appear. On this world, one he heard others call Halla, he remained incorporeal.

Jack's private ruminations got disrupted when Hiccup propped himself on his elbows. The chieftain looked down the length of his body. His slowly shook his head back and forth.

"Pathetic," he mumbled. "Don't even have half the muscles Eret or Gottfried has… or even Snotlout. Just pathetic."

"I don't think so," Jack replied, certain he went unheard.

Hiccup's head twisted to the side in Jack's direction, and he asked in a wary voice: "Why do I keep hearing things?"

Jack lifted his face in amazement. The moment did not last. The young man on the bed resumed his inspection.

"You'd think with the amount of food I eat and all the work I do I'd have something to show for it," Hiccup complained to his body.

The Spirit of Fun could not see what the chieftain did. If anyone asked Jack, he would say Hiccup's body came close to a work of art. The long limbs, similar to his, showed ropey muscles under the skin, especially in the calves and thighs. The red-head's stomach displayed the outlines of abdominal muscles running down the length from the sternum to navel. Hiccup's pectorals, while not huge, rounded nicely with health and vitality. His arms did not have the bulk he saw on others, but the sinew appeared taut and well-toned. All in all, Jack thought, Hiccup enjoyed a handsome carriage.

"This is why no one notices me."

"I do."

Once again Hiccup swung his head to the right and stared over his shoulder toward the corner of his room. Jack, to test a theory, reached out his right arm and waved it around. It did not attract Hiccup's attention. However, Jack could not dismiss the reaction. He pondered what might be happening, but did not have long to do so. Once Hiccup seemed to be certain nothing else occupied the room, that which he could see, he returned to his bodily contemplations. Jack, had he any weight or physical reality at the moment, ran the risk of falling off the small table in shock.

Throughout the history of the dimensional plane where Earth resided, few humans went through transformation Jack experienced. The Man in the Moon, an intelligence even the Guardians barely comprehended or grasped, watched over the Earth. The lunar presence made selections as to whom or what would evolve into an elemental or immortal persona. Only the rarest of personalities went on to become a Guardian. As far as Jack knew, he was only the fifth to ever receive the honor. The honor, however, came at a price. Jack lost his mortal body and mortality. It happened when he just turned thirteen. In the three centuries since he mentality matured – a limited maturation since he embodied the Spirit of Fun – and he grew in power, and he aged in the beginning but that seemed to stop. By his estimation, he gained roughly four or five years of physical age based on comparisons to mortals across his world. However, he did not experience what other human teenagers did, and large gaps in his personal information existed.

Hiccup's current actions lay outside Jack's memory or full understanding. He intellectually knew what occurred, but he did not understand what it all meant. He recognized the young Viking chieftain long passed the cusp between childhood and adulthood, as he saw so many others do on his home world. One of the more telling signs came with how a person physically interacted with her- or himself. A different awareness about people came alive as puberty came into place. Needs for fun changed, or perhaps the type of fun changed. As such, the Guardian witnessed Hiccup having fun with himself. Nearly one-hundred percent of the time Jack went away when this activity started. However, Hiccup fascinated him because of their physical similarity. The elemental young man began to wonder about what he might have missed in his mortal youth. Hiccup provided an example.

Despite the immodesty and voyeuristic aspect, Jack stared with utter wonder as Hiccup brought himself physical pleasure. For the first time he could recall, Jack noticed a strange set of energies take shape in the area around Hiccup as the young man proceeded. Not only did the tension seem to build in the Viking, but it built in the very air. It became clear Hiccup resided somewhere else in his head. The more he applied his ministration, the further away he appeared to drift. Jack felt power of a kind he did not understand begin to crackle around him. It made him breathe heavier, his thoughts became distracted and disorganized, and sensation like a pleasant illness bubbled in his gut. The elemental young man never knew such powers existed. He watched as Hiccup's body strained and tensed against itself.

A movement off to the left of the room by the dresser caught immortal's attention. A figure coalesced out of the shadows. Hot orange eyes sprang to life from nowhere. The apparition seemed to bend down onto all fours. An inky, smoky body assembled itself, and for all intents and purposes it looked like a dragon of a strange configuration. It crawled toward Hiccup. It frightened Jack. An unusual power emanated from the beast while it sniffed the air during its slow progression to the now groaning and thrashing young man. Hiccup did not notice the beast being so caught up in his self-ministrations. Jack feared for him.

"Gods!" Hiccup grunted just as the creature got to his thigh and bit him from all appearances.

"NO!" Jack yelled, and plume a cold vapor jetted from his mouth.

"Ugh!" Hiccup answered, and a seeming violent physical reaction took place.

His whole body heaved and thrashed, and then went completely rigid. Four times the Viking shook as he reacted to his own touch. Hiccup knew the faces and forms that teased his senses as they flashed through his mind, and none of them he expected. He did not fail to note Astrid did not feature among them. The mental release nearly equaled the physical one. As the scene played itself out, Hiccup's body wiggled about with diminishing vigor and soon came to a rest. The young man breathed in heavy drafts. A fluid pooled on his chest and stomach.

"Muckers," Hiccup sighed and sounded pleased.

Jack did not know what to make of the situation. Suddenly he heard another sound both foreign and frightening. The misty beast that appeared to attack Hiccup started to chuckle in a deep, menacing manner. Jack glanced away from the human to the apparition. It looked at him. It studied him. It continued to snicker. The eyes glowed hotter than at the start. Then beast moved away from Hiccup and faced Jack squarely.

"Stranger," it growled, surprising Jack all the more.

Without warning it sprang into the air. The youngest Guardian lifted his arms, his crook, in an effort to defend himself. Only a half-laugh, half-roar met Jack while creature sailed through him. Jack let out a scream. A powerful sensation surged through his being, merging with his magic. White dots, and not snow, danced before Jack's eyes. His mind spun in a delirious and delicious dangerous circle. All of his senses focused exclusively on his groin as the scream issuing from his lips changed intent and tone. Moreover, the impact forced Jack through the wall. He tumbled into the air gripped in a stupor he never wanted to go away. His incorporeal form drifted upward into the air. Jack felt like the first snow cloud of a new winter as he briefly lost consciousness during his unplanned, uncontrolled flight. The impact from the beast propelled him away from the island and to a lofty height in more ways than one.

"What?" Hiccup said in a husky voice.

He sat up as a sound died ringing in his ears: a startled yell that came from nowhere.

"Crap," he grunted as a significant volume of fluid flowed down his stomach, into and down his groin, over his hips only to land on his bedspread where it instantly soaked in.

Despite the mess now confronting him, Hiccup felt much better. Personal time always relieved his tension, but it left a different one in its wake. The faces that came unbidden into his mind while he reached climax caused him concern. He expected to see Astrid or even Switchbroom, but images of Gottfried, Tuffnut, and Eret floated around his brain instead. Hiccup frowned and tried to downplay the significance. Then his mind focused on the large wet spot that required his attention in order to hide from his mother in case she decided to clean his room. Moreover, he did not want to sleep in it.

"And the last thing I need is Toothless sniffing around my bed like I hid a fish in the covers," he said in the empty room.

High above the world Jack slowly came to his senses. He reached such a height that strong winds push him along at a fantastic pace. Never before in either his mortal or immortal did he ever feel what the ghost dragon did to him. Part of his mind craved a repeat. It gnawed at him. A strange fear of the wild, unknown sensation gripped Jack. A dangerous aspect lurked in the all-consuming want it inspired.

"You're a Guardian, Jack. Deal with this!" He yelled at himself. "You've faced worse!"

Once he felt collected, he flew down below the cloud cover to get his bearings. Jack saw he drifted far and long. He could not see Berk on the horizon no matter which way he turned. Thus, a study of the islands in the hidden afternoon sun commenced. By the time the sun set and twilight covered the sea, Jack still did not know his location. Even though he did not need it, he decided to find an island with a comfortable looking thicket and lay down his head. The events of the day left him feeling oddly stretched out and thin. After more searching as darkness grew, Jack found a reasonable location. Then he settled himself under a bush with thick, succulent leaves. His crook, which he could not for the life of him figure out how he managed to retrain, acted as his only comfort. Jack curled around it and closed his eyes.

Some immortals slept. Santa Claus slept. The Easter Bunny slept. Jack could not decide if the Tooth Fairy slept. The Sandman gave him pause. As sleep incarnate, the Spirit of Dreams, Sandy appeared to sleep, but Jack remained uncertain. He, himself, did not require sleep and did so infrequently. Normally he did after extremely dangerous events simply to give his mind rest. He counted this as one of those occasions. As he let go of consciousness, remembrances of glowing orange eyes and a threatening laugh sent him into a disjointed slumber. Although he did not have words for it, the pale Guardian suspected a bit of the amorphous dragon lingered. Something awoke in Jack that never knew life when he walked as a newly emerged mortal teenager.

Despite his seeming eagerness to find Berk again, Jack Frost only went through the motions. He spent more time aloft trying to understand what actually occurred in Hiccup's private quarters. The image of the naked young man lost in bodily sensations gamboled in Jack's mind. It seemed to mingle with the remains of the nebulous mystery dragon. A desire unlike any he ever experienced took shape. Jack desperately wanted to see Hiccup perform those actions again. Moreover, something deep inside of him wanted to join in, but he did not think it possible in his incorporeal form. It became a giant puzzle in his mind that kept him from returning to Berk.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.