Hi there! Thanks for checking out my story!

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not claim the rights to either movie, as they do not belong to me.

This takes place after HTTYD and before Brave, just to clear that up.

Hope you enjoy!

Hiccup woke up extra early that morning to find it was a beautiful day for guests.

And by beautiful, he meant completely nasty.

Because this was Berk, and beautiful weather was something of a rarity. Especially at this time of year following a while after Snoggletog. There had been a thick blanket of snow on the ground when he went to bed, but when he looked out the window he saw it had melted a bit overnight. With the weather just beginning to warm up, everything would be slush for the next few weeks. Now, instead of snow, cold rain was drumming on the roof over his head in a steady, rhythmic pattern that Hiccup normally would've found soothing. If today hadn't been so important he could have enjoyed it. At least it wouldn't be snowing again.

Something else was drumming on the roof too, something familiar. Hiccup smiled lopsidedly. Guess Toothless wants to go flying despite the rain after all. He felt a surge of regret as he crawled out of bed, knowing he would have to tell his friend today was a no-go. He pulled on his fur vest and secured the prosthetic foot to his leg before taking the thick cloak off a peg on the wall. It had been a Snoggletog gift from his father, and would come in very handy today. He decided to put on his helmet as well, thinking Stoick would probably want him to wear it anyway.

Rubbing the bleariness from his eyes, he descended the wooden stairs to the first floor and stopped. The giant firepot in the middle of the room was cold and empty and dark. The house was silent except for the distant thud of Toothless on the roof.

"Dad?" Hiccup called, walking towards the door.

No answer. Well, he shouldn't be surprised. Of course Stoick would be gone already. He had always hated this day, even though it didn't come around very often. He was probably in the Great Hall, conversing with the Tribe Elders.

When Hiccup stepped outside, he could feel the anxiety in the cold, damp air. No one in the Tribe was fond of this day when it came. It put the Vikings in a very bad mood, which was never a good thing. Some liked to spend the day hunting instead of staying in the village, while others didn't even leave their homes. Hiccup didn't blame them. Before this year, he'd been in the habit of disappearing into the woods or staying holed up in the forge all day. But a few days ago, Stoick said he wanted Hiccup to join him in the negotiations. At first he'd tried to refuse, thinking of anything he could say to get out of it, but his father insisted.

"If you're going to be Chief of this Tribe someday, you'll have to do this too," he'd argued in his thickly accented voice. "It's important that you learn, and you're old enough this year."

Hiccup, of course, knew what he really meant by that. This is the first year I haven't been embarrassed of you or afraid that you'll mess it up. That wasn't what bothered him, though. He tried asking why he couldn't wait until the next time the meeting rolled around, but he already knew the answer to that.

It was because, this time, the king from the Mainland had decided to bring his daughter along. Apparently she had been recently engaged and was training to be a future ruler as well. And she was around Hiccup's age, so Stoick had thought it appropriate to bring his son along for the first time too.

Thinking about it got Hiccup's nerves worked up. He really, really hoped he wouldn't make a mess of this. It was such a delicate matter, and those were things he had never been particularly good with.

He pulled the collar of his cloak up to shield his face from the freezing rain, being careful of ice as he made his way around to the side of the house. The great black dragon was perched on the edge of the roof, waiting patiently for his rider. When Hiccup came into view, he hopped to the ground with a thud and nudged his chest in greeting.

Hiccup scratched his cold, wet scales. "Morning, bud."

Toothless bounded over to the riding harness that he'd apparently dragged out from where Hiccup kept it in the shed and pawed at it rather impatiently.

The Viking boy's shoulders drooped as he sighed. "Sorry, Toothless. Today's kind of…ah…" He wiped some rainwater from his eyes. "Well, today's kind of important. We can't go flying. I'm sorry, bud."

Toothless tilted his head and uttered a sad, warbling note, motioning again to the saddle.

"I know, I know," Hiccup said, stooping to pick it up off the cold, soggy ground. "I'd love to go out all day, trust me. But unfortunately that's not an option. I promise we'll go for an extra long ride tomorrow, though."

The dragon huffed, clearly not happy with the plan, but followed Hiccup obediently as he went to put away the saddle. Luckily the rain had slowed to a light drizzle before it soaked completely through the cloak. As he'd thought, it was starting to turn the snow into slush. Hiccup hoped it wouldn't freeze back over.

Every second he was dreading the day ahead more and more. He and the other teenagers knew what they had to do, but none of them wanted to do it. Hiccup felt like it would be some sort of betrayal to order Toothless to stay out of sight for an entire day. This is too important to risk, he reminded himself. He shuddered to think of what would happen if the Mainlanders saw the dragons in the village. Still, it didn't make the task any easier.

"Hiccup," a familiar voice called as he finished stowing the harness away in the shed next to his house. "Stoick wants to see you in the Great Hall."

Hiccup's thin shoulders dropped for the second time in five minutes. He turned to see Gobber hobbling toward him, wrapped up in his own fur coat. "I figured he would. Is it about the dragons or the negotiations?"

"Probably both," the old Viking mused, tugging at one end of his drooping moustache. "I think he's planning on lettin' the others do most of the work with the dragons, though."

"Yeah, that's smart," he mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"It is, actually. I think the business in the Hall is a wee bit more important for you to be spendin' time focusing on, don't you?"

His stomach clenched with nausea. He'd never felt so…responsible for the Tribe before, or important to its future. And to be honest, he wasn't sure he liked it. He still wasn't used to feeling important or responsible at all.

"Anyway, you'd better get goin.'" Gobber jerked a thumb in the direction of the Great Hall. "He's not in a particularly patient mood today. Try not to do anything stupid."

Hiccup rolled his eyes again. "Do you think I want to get us all killed?"

The big Viking chuckled and patted his shoulder with his flesh hand, but Hiccup noted that the gesture was more tense and forced than usual. The anxiety must be getting to him too, even if he tried hard not to show it.

"Where are you going?" Hiccup asked as he sauntered away.

"To check with the lookouts," he replied over his hunched shoulder. "Don't want to miss any sails on the horizon."

Hiccup knew he was just looking for ways to be useful while they waited on the ships, and he didn't blame the man. Today everyone was antsy and on-edge. As he turned in the direction of the hall, he swallowed back another bout of nerves. He wasn't looking forward to joining his father. Stoick wasn't much fun to be around when he was stressed and angry. Both of which he would be today, no doubt.

He felt a worried nudge under his arm and looked back to see Toothless staring at him with wide, round eyes.

"It's okay, bud," he tried to assure him. "We just have some company coming today from the Mainland and…well, they're not the biggest fans of Vikings. And Vikings don't like them much, either. So you and Stormfly and Hookfang and the other dragons are gonna spend the day in the woods with Astrid and them, okay?"

Toothless pushed his muzzle into Hiccup's shoulder again in a questioning manner.

"No, I can't go." He put his hands on both sides of the Night Fury's head and sighed ruefully. How were you supposed to explain this to a dragon without it sounding like abandonment? "I'm sorry, Toothless. Dad needs me to stay here. But I'll come get you as soon as I can, all right?"

Toothless seemed to accept that and gave another low bray.

Hiccup scratched under his chin in his favorite spot, watching as the dragon's eyes rolled back in delight. "I'll see you in a little while, bud. Now go and find Astrid, all right?"

He didn't look at Toothless again as he turned to make his way to the Hall. It broke his heart to have to leave him like this, but not every day could be spent doing fun things like flying and playing games.

When he passed through the huge, heavy oak doors, the first thing he noticed was the tension that hung in the room like a strong odor. There may have been some odor too, but it was well hidden under the trepidation that was so thick it was almost tangible. Firelight played on the walls, shadows jumping and flitting along with the flames of the torches. The Elders and military leaders of the Tribe stood in a huddle at the end of the long table, their faces grim and scowling.

His father's most of all.

They didn't even notice Hiccup as he approached tentatively, afraid that any sudden noise might get an axe thrown at his head. But once he was a few feet away, Stoick's head lifted and their eyes met. Some of the tension in his face seemed to melt a little at the sight of his son.

"Ah, Hiccup," he greeted, stepping away from the group. "I need to speak with you."

"What do you want me to do about the dragons?" Hiccup asked.

Stoick laid a massive hand on his son's back and steered him toward the front of the room. "Nothing. I already talked to Astrid and she's getting a group ready to take care of it."

"But…" He was always the one to handle the dragons. Dragons were his area, after all.

"I know, I know. I would've let you do it, but I need you here. We've got Chief business to take care of, and that comes before dragons. I'm sorry, Son."

Hiccup sighed in regret. He couldn't wait for this day to be over and done with.

"Let's step outside," Stoick directed, and proceeded to push open the heavy door with one shove.

A blast of cold air made Hiccup shiver, but he noticed it did seem considerably warmer. The sky was still dark and gray with clouds, but the rain had almost come to a complete stop. The ground was damp with melting snow.

"Looks like the winter spirit finally decided to leave us alone," Stoick remarked as he kicked a bit of mud off his boot, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Hiccup deadpanned with his signature dry humor and a shake of his head. "Let's just hope he doesn't decide to come back."

Father and son wandered away from the Great Hall slowly, silence filling the gap between them. Until Stoick finally said, "Hiccup, I'm sure you know what's at stake here."

The Viking boy shrugged sarcastically, and then looked up at his father with a sober expression. "I've only lived here my whole life, Dad. Of course I do."

"And you know how serious being the Chief is."

"I know." Hiccup didn't like all this adult talk. In the back of his mind he'd always known that one day he would have to start stepping up to the duties of being the leader of the village, but it had always seemed so far away. Now that some responsibility was being laid on his shoulders, he wasn't sure he was ready for it. But his father was counting on him. And he was sixteen years old already. He could do this.

Stoick had already gone over what was to take place later that day. The actual negotiations shouldn't take that long. It was mainly the formalities that they had to worry about.

"I don't know what kind of king Fergus is back on the Mainland," the Chieftain told him as they walked. "But when he's in Berk he has always been…ah…irritable. Reasonable and level-headed for the most part, but irritable." Hiccup watched his dad's face grow angrier as he spoke. "And if the least little thing is out of place, you can bet he'll say somethin' about it. He's rude and thinks he's so much better than us just because—"

"Dad, you're going to be reasonable and level-headed too, right?" Hiccup interrupted, trying to sound calming.

"Of course I am!" Stoick bellowed, fists clenching. "It's him you have to worry about. Always acting like he owns the place because of one tiny little pillage on his precious Clan. You'd think he would've forgotten by now, but no, of course not. Not even after everything's been paid back. I swear, sometimes I think we should—"

"And all this time I thought you were trying not to start a war," Hiccup quipped.

Stoick stopped and stared at him for a moment. Then he softened as the anger drained from his posture. He laughed humorlessly. "You're right, Son. I'm sorry. This whole business is just taking a toll on me."

"I know, Dad. And I know you don't like each other, but you have to stay calm." Hiccup shrugged again. "Because, let's be honest. We both know Vikings have really bad tempers."

The Chieftain laughed again, this time a little more easily, and patted Hiccup on the shoulder. "See, this is why you'll make a great Chief someday. I'm glad you'll be there today."

Hiccup smiled at his dad, but internally he was even more worried than before. He knew what kind of temper Stoick had. And from what he heard, King Fergus had one too. The two groups had always naturally butted heads, but things had been so much worse since the attack.

A long time ago, when Stoick was a young man about to become Chieftain, the Vikings had conducted a rather brutal raid on the coast of the Mainland. Stoick argued that it had been necessary, that the Tribe was in danger of starvation thanks to dragon attacks and there was no other option. Fergus, the young, recently crowned king that ruled over the town that was attacked had not been happy. Not at all. Fierce battles ensued, but it wasn't long before the Mainlanders had wiped out over half the Viking army, forcing them to surrender. Surrender was not a thing Vikings gave into easily. When Stoick had been explaining this bit of history to Hiccup, he'd insisted fervently that it was the only way to avoid the Tribe's extinction. Hiccup believed it. Most Vikings would rather die painful, gruesome deaths than to surrender to the enemy.

When Stoick came to power a short time later, he somehow managed to strike a truce with Fergus. But the war, of course, was blamed entirely on the Vikings and the terms of the peace treaty forced them to pay restitution for the extensive damage the pillages and the battles had caused. Stoick had been in no position to bargain, and with the ongoing war with the dragons another with the Mainlanders would surely be devastating, so he grudgingly agreed. The compensation had been paid back years ago, but King Fergus continued to visit Berk every other winter to renegotiate the terms of the peace treaty that was, miraculously, still fairly stable. How long it would last, though, Hiccup didn't know. Their bad blood ran way back even before Stoick and Fergus's rule so, needless to say, both rulers held a considerable amount of disdain for the other. The unsettled grudge was like gallons of gas and either Stoick's or Fergus's temper could be the spark to ignite it. Neither side wanted a war, but if their pride was insulted they wouldn't hesitate to make the first strike.

As was the Viking way, once enemies, always enemies. Except in the rare case of the dragons. But Hiccup doubted this issue could be resolved the same way.

He never suspected he might be wrong about that.

"You don't actually have to do anything during the meeting," Stoick continued. "Just be observant. And try to be…civil to the king's daughter. You don't need to talk, but try not to be rude. We don't need another reason for them to be unhappy with us."

"Right." Hiccup's thin fingers fiddled with the sleeve of his cloak. Surely he couldn't do anything to upset the delicate state of peace between the two groups. He was just a scrawny, awkward teenager who wanted nothing more than to stay out of the way. But he was also the son of the Chieftain, and that meant people placed certain expectations on him. Expectations he might very well fail to meet. He hoped his father was past being embarrassed of him.

And as much as he didn't want to think about it, he was worried of what the princess would think of him too. He wasn't exactly the picture that came to mind when you thought of a chief's son. Hiccup told himself that, in the long run, it really didn't matter. Hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with her much in the future anyway.

Suddenly, the sound of a conch horn filled the air.

Stoick visibly tensed. "They're here."

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