A young boy, brunet, eyelids closed, and his limp physique lying on wooden debris. Wooden debris from the ship horrifically engulfed in flames, the hull quickly taking on seawater. At this point, no screams were heard; it was just the crackling of twisting and crinkling wood. There must've been no other survivors than this boy, for it was the only one he saw.
He'd spotted the boy in the water, seemingly unconscious. He had saved his life. And yet, it never seemed to feel like it. He had been a thief, taking the gold medallion from the fellow like that. Though, what if he was a pirate? Why else would his ship have been burned? Someone obviously wanted the brunet dead, but not he. Hiccup Haddock was his name; fully Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. The governor's son had earned that name as those beautiful, sparkling emerald hues gazed up at him.
Returning the favor as addressing himself as Jack Frost, the boy became lulled back into his sleepy state, though that was perfectly fine to the paler male. That was when, out of the corner of iced over eyes, he spotted that dark ship with torn sails, with that ghostly fog surrounding the sea. His darker eyebrows furrowed the ones that didn't match his hair, before his gaze shifted to the stolen piece of gold in his hands. The picture didn't last long, seeing as everything went black.
All the story truly was were his memories from the event; a mere dream he'd had about the Hiccup boy again. This was in fact many years later, where his fist rubbed at the dust in his eyes, his fingers reaching to flip up his sheets to get out of bed.
To his drawer he went, shifting through papers and under a block of wood before retrieving the dusty object his dream decided to end on. Wiping away the natural residue, Jack fixed the golden chain around his neck, practically ogling at his reflection. It definitely didn't look bad. Then again, he could've just been acting overly confident.
Having his thoughts interrupted by a knock at his door, his father's large voice filled the room. "Jack?"
Immediately, his son shuffled the room to grab his nightshirt, stuffing the medallion under the cloth so the cool medal was hidden against his chest. He had gotten too warm that night, and he was a bit warm now, but his father had never known of the treasure he'd taken, and he didn't want him to find out now. "Ah- yes, come in!" He called, the hint of a small nervous chuckle edging his voice. Hopefully, it wouldn't be picked up on.
With decency, the large man peeked open the bleach colored door before stepping on through. He chuckled heartily, pink lips smiling through his graying beard. "You still in bed at this hour? It is lovely day!" Waltzing to the window, his father threw open the curtains, leading a small wince to hit Jack from the searing light. "I have present for you." Continuing to grin, his Russian accent was really beginning to peak.
A chest was brought to him, filled to the brim with clothing. Lifting up a few pieces, his gaze inquired to the burly man for the purpose behind this.
"I am hoping you'll wear to Astrid's ceremony, no?" A hand, almost twice as large as his own, patted the side of the box. "Commodore Astrid, she's becoming. She should be very proud; a woman going far into the navy."
With cold eyes rolling, Jack brought the clothing over behind his room divider, shielding his father any potential peeking at the gold. "I knew it." He replied, a small sourness to his tone. All of this just for the promotion? He pulled on the long blue socks, along with the trousers and layers of tops that followed, finishing with his coat and shoes.
Still finishing his wardrobe, a Russian man a bit less massive than the governor stepped into his room with the two of them. The young adult still couldn't manage to understand everyone that lived in this house with some of their accents being much too strong, yet he could imagine it meant his father needed to leave, for that was just what the bearded man did.
Adjusting his collar and sleeves, he eventually followed suit, rushing down their large staircase. His gaze caught sight of the front doors, where his eyes lit up in excitement. "Hiccup!" He was actually here to visit; how ironic that his mind had forced a dream about the brunet for this very day. Needless to say, he was even dressed in similar attire, yet more worn, less expensive, and with a more earthen color scheme.
He bustled down the rest of the stairs, even skipping a few of the wooden drop-offs and almost tripping in the process. Covering it up with laughter, he hurried to the man he'd known for so long.
However, his father was attempting to have a conversation with the blacksmith. That didn't stop the pale haired male to step between the two to start his own conversations. "It's so good to see you! I had a dream about you last night."
"About me?" The statement caused the natured hues to blink a few times, not to mention a light color coming across the bridge of his rounded nose before Jack realized he needed to clarify himself.
"About the day we met. Do you remember?" With a tilt of his jaw, the question presented itself as drastically important.
"Of course, Mr. Frost," he answered a bit proudly, his lips curving up freckled cheeks to show his usual dorky smile.
Rolling blue hues, his head began to shake. "Hiccup, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jack?"
Becoming a bit sheepish, a small laugh escaped from the brunet as his tone showed a slightly snarky remark. "At least once more, Mr. Frost."
Folding his arms over his chest, he was a bit frustrated with his childhood friend, though he still couldn't help but smile at how cute he was acting.
This was when the father stepped in, forcing his son back by his shoulder. "At least he has decency." The large man spoke to the pale one, where a hidden, "unlike you" was evident. "Time to go." Thick fingers slipping away from his shoulder, the governor made his way through the door.
Yet, Jack forced his own fingers into Hiccup's, giving him a small handshake. "Good day, Mr. Haddock," he mocked, the tips of his cool touch brushing over freckled skin in almost a flirtatious matter. This earned him a shy glance down of green eyes, where he finally released his grip to follow his father.
Watching him go, a bit painfully so, he managed out a, "Good day," in return, his eyes softening to a dreamy glow as the name finally peaked out. "Jack."