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The Gods' Favored Chew Toy

After the defeat of the Red Death, Hiccup struggles to find his place. He’s no longer an outcast, but he doesn’t know what that means. He’s supposed to forge a new path, figure out what the whole ‘Dragon Master’ role is composed of. But when foreign invaders arrive looking for him, his purpose in life turns a bit…divine.

Ao3

I was suffering with writer's block so I wrote something totally different just to play around.

I think the appeal to Runaway AUs lies in the idea of Hiccup leaving and returning to Berk all grown up and hot and mysterious. I wrote my own Runaway AU 10 years ago and didn't really feel like doing it again, but I wanted to play around with that specific concept. So this is my attempt.

This is not Historically or Mythologically correct. I don't want to hear about it in the comments 😠

Okay enjoy love you bye!!!!

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Following the defeat of the Red Death and the loss of his leg, Hiccup thought he’d be welcomed into the village with open arms and everything would be great.

He wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t what he expected.

As he hobbled around, the burns and amputation still bloody and raw, he was swept off his feet and carried to all sorts of places. People wanted his opinion. They gave him things. They told him random tidbits about their days. They included him in everything.

And he didn’t know how to handle it.

There was little peace on the ground. When he got away for a while on Toothless, he contemplated staying away for hours.

But his leg refused to ride that long.

So inevitably, he’d return to land and get swept up in his new popularity.

He’d had a taste of it during dragon training. People would swoop in and give him dragon killing tips and try to relate to him. At that time, he had to lie, sweat, and lie some more, so no one was suspicious of Toothless in the woods.

Now, he didn’t have to lie anymore, but he was still as awkward and uncomfortable as ever.

“Hiccup!”

Hiccup cringed and hunched his shoulders. His leg was too raw to run, so he just turned and greeted whoever called him with a tight smile.

His face relaxed when he saw it was Astrid. This was a welcomed greeting.

“What’s with the face?” She asked.

“Oh? Uh…just, knee jerk reaction to hearing someone shout my name.”

She screwed up her lips. “That bad, huh?”

“I really don’t want to say ‘bad’ just…different. It’s all new. And a little exhausting. A lot exhausting, actually. Everyone talks so much!”

“They always do.”

“Not to me!”

Her smile was genuine, though full of sympathy. “You’ll get used to it, and eventually it’ll calm down. Your victory is so new, it’s still exciting.”

“Yeah, I just need to mess up a few more times, and then they’ll remember how much of a loser I am.”

She punched his arm. “Now that’s not what I meant!”

“Ow! Can you pull your punches a little when you do that?”

“No promises,” she snorted.

He rolled his eyes and continued up the hill at an awkward gait.

“Leg bothering you?”

“Yeah. I need to get off of it for the day.”

She hurried a few paces before him and knelt with her back to him. “I’ll get you home.”

He blushed. “That’s not necessary, Astrid.”

“Don’t be stubborn. If you push yourself, it’ll just hurt worse.”

He glanced around, wondering if Toothless was nearby. The dragon had run off to get dinner with the other dragons, and it seemed he hadn’t returned.

“I’m not going to crouch all day!”

“Fine,” Hiccup awkwardly hopped up on her back and held around her shoulders. “Am I heavy?”

“No. Actually, you’re lighter than I expected. Are you eating enough?”

“You sound like the other villagers.”

“With good reason, I expect.” She straightened up and started walking up the hill. “You know, you can ask for help. Everyone owes you a big favor.”

“No they don’t.”

“Hmm,” she tilted her head, doubtful. “At least an apology. For treating you like dirt.”

“I’d rather they just treat me like a person. One day I’m a hero, the next I’m disowned, the day after I’m a god. I’d like to be treated like Hiccup.”

Astrid adjusted her hold on him. “How’s a Hiccup supposed to be treated?”

“…like a friend?”

“Like…giving a piggyback ride when his leg is too sore?”

He hugged her a little tighter. “You know what? Yeah. That’s not so bad.”

Just as they nearly crested the hill, a horn sounded. The horn that signified that a boat was spotted coming towards Berk.

“Visitors?” Hiccup wondered, looking back towards the docks.

Astrid turned and started walking back down. “Let’s go see!”

“You can put me down! I’ll wait here!”

“Nah, I don’t want you to be left out.”

They made their way down to the docks, other villagers coming to join them as well.

Stoick and Gobber met up with them at the docks as Astrid set Hiccup on a crate.

“Thank you, Astrid.”

“No problem,” she said with a stretch.

“Black sails,” Gobber commented. “Who do we know with black sails?”

Stoick shook his head. “Not a clue. They didn’t send ahead a message either.”

About a dozen ships, all bearing black sails, made their way to the docks. A nice wind made sure they were making good time too.

One ship in the lead pulled into dock, and Stoick was quick to approach.

The men inside wore helmets with a line down the middle and sides that stretched down to a cross bar over the cheek and nose. The very top of the helmet had a loop as decoration. The men wore a mix of leather and chainmail, while other men just wore dark gray robes.

Stoick called out, “who are you to arrive on our shores without warning?”

A man in a helmet with a big sword, presumably their leader, answered in a language no one had heard before.

Stoick withdrew his own sword and declared, “we don’t take kindly to ships full of warriors. Turn around now, or our dragons will tear you to pieces!”

Hiccup smirked. It’d been how long since they were at peace and Stoick was already using them as a weapon?

A man in a robe with a big gray beard stood upon a barrel, high above them all, and raised his hands. “Bachgen!”

Stoick didn’t seem put at ease.

“Bachgen!” He repeated. Then he gestured to his leg. “Clwyf!”

“You getting any of this?” Gobber asked.

“We don’t understand you!” Stoick yelled at him.

“Bachgen! B-boy!”

“Boy! I got that one!” Gobber cried.

“Boy!” The robed man shook his leg. “Clwyf!…wound?”

“You have a boy that’s hurt?” Stoick guessed.

The man continued. He glided his hand through the air, then collided it with his fist and made a noise like an explosion. “Rhyfel! Marwoleath!”

“I was never very good at charades,” Tuffnut drawled next to Hiccup.

“Shh!” Astrid elbowed him.

“Boy! Seek! Seek boy!”

“Oh!” Astrid gasped. “I think they’re looking for you!” She said to Hiccup.

“Me?”

“Boy with wounded leg? I think that was supposed to be something flying and exploding.”

“Really? How would they know?”

“The traders have been around since the war ended. I’m sure word has spread everywhere.”

“That quickly? Who even are these people?”

Astrid shrugged.

So Hiccup went out on a limb and stood on the crate. He was still a little shorter than his father. “Uh, excuse me?!” He called.

The robed man looked at him.

Hiccup raised his amputated leg and pointed. “This?”

The men on the boat gasped in shock, before calling out with cheers.

“Okay, so maybe you were right…”

“Ìobair! Ìobair! Ìobair!” The tribe chanted. The other boats pulled into whatever space there was and began to disembark.

“What is happening?” Snotlout chuckled.

“Halt!” Stoick called. “What is your purpose?! What do you want!?”

A woman held up a beautiful white shirt with gold trim. She smiled and waved it around eagerly and pointed at Hiccup. Her answer was incomprehensible, but through context, Hiccup guessed she was saying, “we have gifts.”

“Dad, I think they’re here to thank me?” Hiccup winced. He hated making the assumption of something so grandiose, but it made sense.

“Maybe you ended the war for them too,” Gobber mused. “We don’t know how far the Red Death’s territory goes.”

Stoick finally stood back, and allowed the visitors to come ashore.

They brought out baskets full of fish and fruit and lots of flowers.

A giant wicker basket was hefted out of another ship, and they were carrying it up into the village square.

“Whoa! What do you think is in that?” Snotlout pointed.

Hiccup shrugged. “Couldn’t guess. More flowers?”

“Cheese,” Tuffnut said, definitively. “Definitely cheese.”

“Anyone else weirded out?” Astrid asked.

Hiccup didn’t know how to feel. He’d been swarmed with gratitude the last few weeks, and it had gotten old. But this was a whole new group of people, potentially allies, that they never would have met if he hadn’t ended the war.

“Weird, but kinda cool,” he said at last.

“Doesn’t hurt to make new friends!” Gobber chirped.

“Just what I was thinking.”

Stoick didn’t look very happy though. “I just wish we could communicate. I’d feel a lot better about it.”

Four helmeted men approached Hiccup with a chair. They gestured to it.

“O-oh? You want me to…? Uh, okay.” He held onto Astrid’s shoulder to climb down from the crate, then sat in the chair.

Effortlessly, the men hoisted him into the air and started carrying him into town.

“Uh! Th-this is a bit much, don’t you think?” His voice warbled. True, his leg was still raw, and if he had to choose, being carried was preferable to walking, but everyone was watching him.

“You know, I helped blow up that dragon!” Snotlout shouted. “Where’s my chair?! I’m a hero too!”

“Sorry Snotlout, they don’t speak idiot,” Astrid smirked at him.

He stuck out his tongue.

Hiccup gripped the armrests as the parade of foreigners and Berkians made their way up the hill. All the while, the visitors sang and chanted.

“Taranis! Taranis! Llosgi Llosgi Llosgi!”

Finally, they set him down in the town square. They’d set up the large wicker basket in the center, and placed the gifts around it.

Before Hiccup could stand, women were before him, holding a pitcher of water, a cloth, a comb, and the white tunic.

“Uh…” Hiccup shrunk into the chair.

They tugged on his green tunic, not waiting for him to comply. Then they took off his boot, but mercifully didn’t touch his pants.

A basin was placed under him, and a woman washed his foot, while another woman poured the pitcher of thankfully warm water over his head and scrubbed his body.

“This is excessive!” He cried.

Once washed, his hair was combed back. Then, he was anointed with a fragrant oil.

Finally, they were holding the white tunic out for him to don.

“I can do that myself, thank you!” He took it and hastily put it on, hoping to mitigate his embarrassment.

Once dressed, he stood. The visiting tribe clapped and cheered.

“Haha, yayyy…” Hiccup awkwardly cheered along with them.

He had no idea what was happening.

He scanned the crowd, looking at the elated faces of the visitors and the confused but pleasant faces of his tribesmen.

Finally, he saw Toothless. He was up on the hill, standing by Stormfly and Meatlug. It was obvious he wanted to come closer, but seemed hesitant.

That was probably for the best. If these people were celebrating not being attacked by dragons anymore, it was probably a good idea that the most deadly of them didn’t come bounding in.

Hiccup held up a hand and patted the air, telling Toothless to stay.

Toothless dropped his rear to the ground and waited.

Drums started playing, as the man in the gray robe approached. He had a crown made of mistletoe raised in his hands.

Hiccup bowed his head, and allowed the man to place it. If he just went along with everything, maybe it would be over sooner, and the strangers would leave.

Or at least maybe he could wash off this oil. It was really pungent.

The robed man crowned him, then started a chant in a haunting, droning tone. The strangers echoed his words, in the same dead tone.

Hiccup no longer felt like this was a celebration, but didn’t know what it was. He swallowed thickly as the robbed man took a long golden cloth from his sleeve and slowly wrapped it around Hiccup’s hands.

They had a similar practice in Viking culture. A cloth like this was used in weddings.

Perhaps this was a blessing? It certainly seemed to be some sort of ritual.

Two men pulled on the front of the wicker basket, and the front opened. There was nothing inside.

“Odd…” Hiccup mumbled to himself. He wondered if the strangers would start filling it with the gifts.

And that’s exactly what they did. Basket after basket was stacked inside, around the edges, leaving the center open.

The drumbeats increased in tempo, as did the chanting.

Two more robed men lit torches, and stood on either side of the basket.

The Berkians began to murmur in confusion, and Hiccup was right along with them. Things were getting creepy.

Two helmeted men flanked Hiccup, and took him gently by the arms and escorted him closer to the basket. Despite the ominous dread that fell on him, he went along with it.

No one had their swords out. No weapons at all. They were all still smiling. Surely this wasn’t bad, just weird, and kinda creepy.

They gestured him inside, asking for him to stand in the center of all the gifts.

But Hiccup paused and stood his ground. “Uh…that uh…I’m a little claustrophobic.”

The men looked at each other and murmured something in their language. Then one of them handed his torch to the other, then climbed inside instead, smiled broadly, and beckoned Hiccup in.

So they were trying to tell him it was okay? Nothing to worry about? Hiccup wasn’t so sure, but felt compelled to comply. He walked forward, and the man in the basket grasped his hands and pulled him in.

At the last second, the man leapt out, and the other man thrust the two torches inside, igniting the wicker.

“Wait!” Hiccup squawked, immediately swallowing smoke.

The door to the basket closed swiftly and screams came from the square, followed quickly by the wonderful sound of swords being unsheathed.

“Hiccup!” Stoick bellowed, sheer terror in his voice.

“D-Dad!” Hiccup cried back.

The flames engulfed the basket and the gifts inside. The same pungent smell of the oil hung on the smoke, the wicker having been soaked in it.

Hiccup pushed on the side of the basket, hoping to open it again, but it held fast. The flames only spread up violently and consumed his bindings.

Hiccup coughed and choked as the heat and smoke swallowed him in an inferno.

“Dad!” He cried again, but his voice was a rasp. “Toothless! Astrid!”

The roar of the flames was deafening. He heard yelling and fighting. He may have even heard Toothless’ war cry.

But it was just so hot. Everything was on fire. His clothes were on fire! His skin! His hair!

Hiccup cried out in agony as the flames took him.

And then he was no more.

—-

When next he awoke, things were very very different. He laid on a smooth, cold floor. The room was quiet, save for the soft tinkling of glass.

He opened his eyes, and saw a vibrant starry sky, only obscured by long, curling branches.

He sat up to better see his surroundings. The branches belonged to a tree. A great tree. The greatest tree of them all.

“Yggdrasil,” he murmured. “So…I am dead.”

Not surprising, given his last memories.

“Almost,” said a sing-song voice. “But not quite.”

Hiccup turned to the speaker and found a great man playing a harp. He was huge, and his skin looked to be made of bronze.

Hiccup furrowed his brow. “Are you…?”

The man nodded encouragingly. “Come on, you know.”

“…I don’t know.”

“Bragi! The skald-god!”

Hiccup blinked.

“Greeter of kings?”

“Oh…? Um…but I’m not a king, so…”

“You may as well be!”

Hiccup hunched his shoulders in his singed tunic. “I really don’t think so.”

“Suit yourself, but Odin seems to think differently.”

“O-O-O-Odin?”

“Yep!” Bragi played a tune on his harp, and the ground beneath them rippled like water. Hiccup sank within it, cocooned in glass-like fabric, until he was gently set upon his feet in front of a great table.

Several gods sat at the towering structure, a feast of lavish meats and lush crops poured over bowls and plates. Wine and mead sloshed from golden goblets.

While Hiccup was small and low to the ground, it was like everything was bowed so he was looking at them at eye level, despite only coming up to their knees.

“You’re awake,” said the god at the center, a man with silver hair and an eye patch.

“Um…uh…you’re…you’re…”

“Odin. All Father. God King. All of the above. Now, let’s talk about what happened down there, shall we?”

Hiccup fiddled with his hands. “Bragi said I’m not dead, but…”

“That’s right. You got close, but we spirited you away before you actually died.” Odin took a sip of his drink. “That’s the second time this season you’ve almost died, young man.”

“I’m trying not to make a habit of it…” Hiccup said sheepishly.

Odin continued, his brow furrowed. “That tribe that arrived on your shores is one of a hundred of the Celtic people on the mainland. They are in the path of the Romans, and face extinction or subjugation.”

“And so they decided to seek me out and kill me?” Irritation seeped into Hiccup’s voice.

“In their world, it was for a good reason. They needed a willing sacrifice to their god of war and thunder, Taranis. In exchange, Taranis would give them a warrior to fight back the Romans. The more heroic and pure the sacrifice, the stronger the warrior. Who better than the boy that saved his village from a war with dragons? A willing sacrifice that would lay down his life for strangers. How noble!”

“But I wasn’t a willing sacrifice!”

“Sure seemed that way,” said the god next to Odin. Long blond hair, helmet with wings, and a hammer before him on the table.

Thor.

“But—“

“Even tricked, you still walked into that basket willingly.”

Hiccup hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t’ve—I just…” he had no argument. They were right. He went willingly. He had decided to trust the Celts.

And now he was being lectured by the gods.

“You aren’t in trouble,” said a woman two seats down from Odin. She had a cat in her lap. “Quite the opposite.”

Odin explained, “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. You have a fantastic destiny ahead of you.”

“I do?” He glanced down at his leg. “I kind of thought I was done with world changing events.”

Odin grinned, amused. “No, that was only the beginning. You’ve shown a spirit that is stronger than any mere mortal. You went to save your tribe when they cast you out.”

“Yeah well, I still loved them.”

“And that love for your fellow man proves your strength of spirit. Your fellow man, and all the creatures of the earth.”

“…I just don’t like to see people or animals suffer.”

“That’s love.”

“It’s weakness,” Hiccup argued. “I can’t hunt. I can’t protect myself. Even those…Celtic people? Even after what they did, I couldn’t hurt them. I couldn’t even slaughter a chicken.”

Odin wasn’t deterred. “How many of us are attributed to war? To revenge? It’s the mortals that give us those titles. Death is easy. You don’t like something, you get rid of it. Compassion, mercy, those aren’t easy. But you have them in spades.”

Hiccup looked over the table, taking in the hardened expressions of the gods before him. When he was younger, he’d learned the names and stories, just as all Vikings did. But as he got older, and catastrophe followed his every move, he assumed the gods hated him, and stopped caring about them.

Now he realized that probably wasn’t wise.

“So…what now? Did you steal me away just to spite the Celts? Or do you have a quest for me?”

“A bit of both, actually. We’ve had you picked for this purpose since you were born, but the timing was…”

“Too good?” Hiccup drawled.

“The opposite, really. We meant to promote you when you were older, but we had to intervene.”

“…sorry?” Hiccup shrugged.

Thor elaborated, “we knew this would happen, but we thought you were smart and discerning enough not to just sacrifice yourself.”

Hiccup sighed, his reverence for the gods waning. But he could never behave appropriately before the Berk council either. “Again, I didn’t know. There’s a lot to be said about being rude.”

“Like you are now?” Said a one-handed god beside Freya.

Hiccup hung his head. “…it’s a reflex.”

Odin barked a laugh. “Ha! You’ll fit right in!”

Hiccup glanced up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“You know of Hermod?”

Hiccup wracked his brain for forgotten knowledge. “The…messenger god?”

“Yes. He travels between the halls of Asgard and Helheim. We’re in need of another like that, but traveling between here and Midgard. We’ve picked you for the role.”

“Me?!” Hiccup squawked. It shouldn’t have been too surprising. The gods were obviously hinting at it from the get go. But still… “But—I’m not—surely you’d want someone more…more?” That was the best way to explain it. Someone stronger, bigger, smarter, braver, better spoken, more respectful.

“No. You.”

“Can I decline?”

“Sure! But you will die. And since it was a rather pathetic death…” Odin clicked his tongue.

“Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?” Hiccup rolled his eyes.

“What frightens you about such a role?” Asked Frigga, to Odin’s right. “Many a mortal would leap at the chance to become a god.”

Hiccup held his arm. “It’s a very generous offer, please don’t think I’m not grateful. But I’m worried I won’t do it justice. I only just recently gained acceptance of my tribe. Up until then, everything I touched became a mess. What I did with the Red Death…it had to be done. It was a crazy and stupid idea, and I almost died. It’s a miracle that it worked.”

“Not a miracle,” said Freya.

Hiccup swallowed thickly.

Odin reached over the table with a big meaty hand and rested it on Hiccup’s shoulder. It was like a Monstrous Nightmare perched on his shoulder and he would have buckled under the weight, if not for the strange laws of physics in this realm.

“It is precisely those incidents that made us choose you. You think differently than other mortals. We don’t want any normal Viking. We want you.”

Hiccup swallowed again, still full of skepticism, but who was he to doubt the will of the gods?

Actually, he’d been doing that most of his life. This was nothing new.

“Okay,” he said shakily. “A messenger between Asgard and Midgard. I…I think I can do that. Am I flying? Or walking across the bifrost?” He joked, before he could think better of it, “or is Loki going to turn into a female dragon and mate with Nidhogg?”

The gods all broke out into uproarious laughter, all but one at the end of the table. “It was one time!” He yelled.

Odin wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, that was a fine jest, boy! No, no. Once you choose your steed, he will ascend with you.”

“So Toothless will become immortal too?”

“Yes. We assumed you’d pick him.”

This deal was starting to look a lot more favorable. His job would be to fly around with Toothless for eternity? Sounded perfect!

“I see you still have questions,” said Odin. “Ask away. Time on Midgard is still.”

“I’ll outlive everyone on Berk, won’t I? I’m…I’m not sure if I could handle that.”

Thor barked a laugh. “A mortal fear! Death! But you forget, you will travel between realms. Take your father, for example. You would see him in your time on Midgard. Then, one day, he will move to Valhalla. Your time with him will not change, just location.”

“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that! But you’re certain he’ll go to Valhalla?”

“I have a place set for him already,” said Odin. “It would be foolish not to have Stoick the Vast in my einherjar.”

Hiccup nodded in understanding. He supposed that was the crux of it, though he had other thoughts. He didn’t think he’d voice them, but Freya looked right through him.

“You have thoughts of love in mind,” she said. “You wonder about Astrid.”

Hiccup blushed. “Yeah well…we were getting along really well. I just…I kind of assume this is the end of that, isn’t it? It’s not practical, is it?”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” Freya said kindly. “A relationship can thrive in any condition. It’s up to you if your duties get in the way of it.”

“And,” said Frigga. “Whoever you take as a wife will ascend as well. Astrid would make a fine Valkyrie.”

Hiccup stood up straighter, his eyes widening. “Really?!”

Freya smiled softly. “And it will be Astrid, if my foresight is correct, and it is.”

“Oh wow! Okay!”

“Now he’s excited,” Thor rolled his eyes.

“I’m at least more optimistic now,” he winced. “What are these ‘duties’?”

“They will vary over time. There may be years that pass between them. In fact, your next task is a few years out yet. Our timetable was moved up, you know.”

“Right, because of the whole ‘burning alive’ thing.”

“It happens.” Odin sat back in his chair. “Now, I will send you back. Your task is to get rid of the Celts.”

Hiccup cringed. “I thought we established that I can’t kill anyone.”

“I didn’t say you had to kill them. Just get rid of them. Do as you see fit. But be aware, these people practice human sacrifice regularly. Do with that as you will.”

“…I see.” Hiccup twiddled his fingers again. “I guess, once I get to Toothless, I can drive them off.”

“Oh!” Odin smacked his forehead. “How foolish of me. One more thing. When you return, you will be transformed. You will appear older, your body at its prime. Your body will cease to age then, but the wisdom of age will come in time. You will have the strength of a man, not a boy.”

Hiccup smirked. “No super strength?”

“You won’t need it. You will have abilities tailored for your tasks. You’ll discover them in time, no doubt.”

Hiccup looked at his hands. “Interesting.”

“The mortals are often the ones to attribute us to things, but the Sagas have already been written.”

“Huh?”

“Never you mind. I will bestow on you your title: Hiccup the Reborn God, God of Dragons and Second Chances.”

The title hit his soul like the clang of a gong. He stood up straight and let a proud smile grace his cheeks. What an honor!

“Now go! Your friends worry about you!”

—-

A few minutes prior.

Astrid stood just beyond the circle of strangers. The visiting tribe had made a tight ring around the square, making it difficult for the Berkians to see what was happening.

She stood on her tiptoes, trying to peer over the towering warriors.

It all seemed strange. This ritual of gratitude, whatever it was, felt wrong. She could tell by the expression on Hiccup’s face that he felt it too.

When the guests opened the basket, Astrid was puzzled. As they placed the other gifts inside, she was suspicious, when they beckoned Hiccup inside, she was alarmed.

“Wait!” She called, her voice drowned out by the chanting. “Hiccup, don’t!”

Then the wicker shut and the basket went up in flames.

It was so fast, she could hardly believe it. Fire! They’d set him on fire!

The boy she loved started to care for, who’d been hated for years, who’d risked life and limb to save people that cast him out, who’d ended a war and brought peace to her village, was burning alive!

“Hiccup!” The voice that tore from her throat was not her own. It was raw, passionate, angry, desperate.

He’d opened the world to her. He taught her how to smile again, how to see beauty in things. He reminded her that life wasn’t just fighting and killing, it was joy and love and fun. He brought her Stormfly. He brought her friends that she hadn’t connected with on her own. He showed her everything could be alright.

And he was dying.

Astrid pushed and shoved her way through the crowd, shrieking his name all the while.

She wasn’t the only one. Stoick tore through the circle, sending strangers flying as he ran for the basket.

Toothless too, glided down the hill and started blasting shots at the intruders. It was a race to see who would save Hiccup first.

Hiccup’s horrendous cries of agony, the sounds of being consumed by flame, hit the air before Stoick could reach the basket.

The foreigners cheered, apparently their dark task was fulfilled.

But there would be hell to pay, if she had anything to say about it.

In a blind fury, she began throwing punches and kicks at everyone she failed to recognize.

Then, it all changed.

The basket was fully consumed by fire. The heat was powerful, and everyone had to dash away to avoid the violent flickering flames.

Then a burst of lightning, streaking through the cloudless, sunset sky, struck the basket and its contents, and nothing was left but a singe mark on the stone.

Cold dead silence gripped the square, as no one, Berkian or guest alike, knew what that meant.

Thor had thrown down bolts in displeasure before. Every clan had a story of a relative being struck after doing something heretical.

Heck, Snotlout had been struck more times than she could count for just being Snotlout!

But a strike just did damage. It burned and exploded and scarred. But there was nothing left of the basket or its contents. It was all gone. Not even a pile of ash.

Then in the next breath, a burst of flame erupted from the very same spot. It burned hotter than the pyre, and even brighter, but snuffed out in only a few seconds.

A figure remained behind on the charred stone. He wore black armor that was decorated with red and gold motifs. He had a long black cape that resembled dragon wings in shape.

A helmet obscured his facial features, but…

He was missing his left leg, replaced by a strange looking prosthesis.

Astrid was rational, despite her age. While everything that’d happened in the last few minutes was strange and nearly incomprehensible, the leg remained a glaring clue.

—-

One moment, Hiccup was staring at the gods before him, and the next, he was swallowed by fire once again.

This time, it didn’t hurt. It was warm, comforting, like the hug of a friend, or a morning blanket.

The fire died in a moment, and Hiccup was standing where he’d died, or almost died. The village of Berk, and a tribe of invaders stood still and watched him as he took stock of himself.

He wore a helmet that should have obscured his vision, but he could see everything. At least, he could perceive everything.

He felt taller, stronger, more stable and grounded. His leg didn’t hurt, but he could feel it hadn’t been restored.

His new armor was black, made up of rounded scales. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess they were Toothless’.

He had spines and ridges lining his gloves and the edges of his armor. They were tipped in gold.

He could hear a cape fluttering behind him.

“Taranis has delivered the warrior!” Said one of his persecutors. Odd, now Hiccup could understand him.

“Taranis be praised!” Another cried.

They cheered and wept and slowly got down on one knee to pay him respect.

Hiccup looked at the Berkians. Many of them stared in horror and shock, while many more stood at the ready to attack.

Well. That wasn’t good.

“Oh great warrior! Lead us to salvation! We bow our knees as well as our wills! We do as you command!”

While that was fairly convenient, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy. “Leave now,” he said in their language.

One of the Druids looked up sharply, his hood falling off in the process. “My Lord?”

“Leave this island, and never return.”

“But what of the invaders?”

“You ran all the way here to sacrifice an innocent boy. You could have fortified your defenses, or you could have fled somewhere else. But you brought the same pain and misery the invaders would to this tribe.”

The Celts looked at each other in horror, not from shame of their actions though.

“Taranis has abandoned us!”

Hiccup shook his head. “Taranis was never with you. I’ve been sent by Odin.”

“Who?”

Hiccup chuckled, but not because it was funny, but because it was sad. “You came to the Vikings to kill someone, and you don’t even know the gods they worship?”

It was like swinging a bat at a hornet’s nest. The Celts went from awed to angry. Those that had weapons quickly drew them.

“The warrior is a deceiver! We kill them all and take their land for our own!”

Anger leapt in Hiccup’s chest. The same anger he felt when he saw the long ships on fire from the Red Death. While he didn’t always see eye to eye with Berk, they were his people.

And no one threatened his people.

Sacrificing him to a dead god was one thing, but trying to kill the others? It made Hiccup reconsider his pacifism stance.

“You don’t want to do this,” Hiccup warned. Though, he considered the fact that this discussion would be more effective with a weapon. Just as he thought of it, something started to materialize in his hand. A handle of a weapon.

A sword. Hiccup thought. A collapsible sword. A sword of fire! A sword that can breathe a plume of fire like a Zippleback!

As he imagined it, the weapon built itself piece by piece in his hand. Simply as if Hiccup was forging it himself, each piece glowing bright orange, straight from the forge.

The completed sword awaited him, then burst forth with a burning blade.

Cool.

“We make our stand now!” Said one of the helmeted men. “We die over retreat!”

Hiccup sighed, but understood what needed to be done.

Surely some of them would retreat.

He whistled sharply, and Toothless locked on to him like a compass needle. He shot to his side, and Hiccup was up on his back in an instant.

The Berkians took the opportunity to join the fight, some darting to get weapons if they didn’t already have them.

“To arms!” Stoick yelled.

“They intend to kill all of us!” Hiccup shouted in Norse. “Make them regret coming to our shores! Show them how ex-dragon slayers fight!”

Berk shouted in unison, not exactly a cheer, but a call of agreement.

Then it was war.

Hiccup and Toothless took off into the air. They circled the battlefield and blasted weapons out of the hands of Celts. Unarmed invaders were worthless invaders.

“Stormfly, Hookfang!” Hiccup called in the dragon tongue. To the humans on the ground, it sounded like the supernatural figure was roaring like a dragon. “Meatlug, Barf, Belch! Protect your riders!”

The dragons got to work, taking flight and scooping up the teens that hadn’t been training with them very long.

Hiccup scanned the field, intervening in uneven fights. He glanced over at his father, and saw the man in a wild fury. He had a hammer in one hand, and a mace in the other. Berk was giving him a wide berth as he chewed through the invaders like a hurricane.

Hiccup supposed that was probably therapeutic and well deserved.

While Hiccup still pulled his punches, as the sight of death made him queasy, he had no qualms or regrets about cutting down the man that was attempting to kill two Berkian children. He had his limit of mercy, and that man was beyond it.

The strangers had brought their entire tribe, women and children included. Once a good chunk of the warriors were dead or injured, the vulnerable made a mad dash for the boats.

Berk let them go.

The Celts saw the retreat, and some dropped their swords willingly. Those skirmishes ended, and the strangers were permitted to flee.

Some warriors, however, refused to back down. They yelled at the retreaters, some even turning weapons on them to force them to stay.

These vile men also met Hiccup’s burning blade.

It was a sordid affair; chaotic, unfortunate, ugly. The worst side of mankind. But with what Odin said, some of these people would rather die than face the Romans.

So be it.

It wasn’t until the ships were a healthy distance out to sea that everyone finally calmed down. And by ‘calm down’ I mean they sheathed their weapons.

But they all gave Hiccup suspicious looks.

He hopped off Toothless and extinguished his sword.

That only made Berk draw back in fear.

Hiccup swallowed. Those looks were familiar and fresh. The fear, the hate. They were the same looks he got when he was disowned by his father. Toothless came for him in the Kill Ring, and the other Vikings looked at him like he was infected with a parasite.

He was a pariah again.

Stoick pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his eyes wide and clothes splattered with blood. “Who…who are you?”

Hiccup didn’t know how to answer. He wanted to just run to him and hug him out of sheer relief of not being dead.

But Stoick didn’t recognize him. No one seemed to.

That is, except Toothless. Hiccup wasn’t sure how, though. He was certain he was completely different, from sight, sound, and smell. Perhaps it was just that bond they had.

“Where did you come from?” Stoick asked instead of waiting for an answer. “My son…they killed my son…” he sniffed. “That’s his dragon. You…do you know what happened to Hiccup? Did the gods trade you for him?”

Hiccup clenched his fists, his gloves creaking.

He really didn’t know how to start explaining this.

Stormfly squawked from above before Astrid landed beside him.

Hiccup shuffled uncomfortably, not ready for her reaction. He’d heard a rumor that she’d shed tears at the end of the battle, when everyone thought he was dead.

To see it, he thought it might just break him.

Instead, as usual, Astrid surprised him as she leapt off Stormfly and hurried to him.

Then she caught him in a tight hug. Despite being taller and stronger now, her grip was still painful and she lifted him an inch off the ground.

“You have got to stop scaring me like that!”

Once she put him down and loosened her grip, he pulled her into a hug of his own, just ever so grateful someone saw him.

“Astrid?” Stoick asked.

“Oh come on!” She yelled back, still hugging him. “It’s Hiccup! Look at his leg! And Toothless! He came right to him!”

Stoick looked skeptical. “That…that can’t be Hiccup. He…he was burned.”

“And he’s way too tall!” Said Snotlout. “He doesn’t look anything like Hiccup!”

Astrid pulled away, but didn’t let go of him. “You are Hiccup though, right? Somehow?”

He didn’t have the words. His whole life, sarcasm and sass guided his tongue when emotion was driving his brain. But right now, he had nothing.

Instead, he took off his helmet. He didn’t know what he looked like. Older, yes. But by how much? How unrecognizable had he become?

And…had the fire left scars he didn’t know about?

Berk just stared at him, jaws dropped in shock.

“Hubba-hubba!” Ruffnut shouted over the tense silence.

That made Hiccup blush fiercely, and diffused the awkward air. Or made it more awkward in a different way. It did something, for sure.

A hand reached up and touched Hiccup’s face, gently.

He glanced down at Astrid. She stared at him, intensely, a little rosiness to her cheeks. “You aged,” She said.

“A little,” he replied, finally speaking. “Physically, at least. But I was only in Asgard for maybe ten minutes?”

“Asgard? The Asgard?!”

He nodded. “Odin said he spirited me away before I died.”

“So—“ Stoick took breathless steps towards him. “The gods—they…they saved you. They returned you to us! To me!” Then he was upon Hiccup and pulled him into a fierce hug. “I don’t know how I would have survived losing you after the last scare!” He wept.

“Dad…” Hiccup hugged him back (as much as he could, considering it was like hugging a tree).

The other dragon riders, minus Fishlegs, were less moved. “So what’s with the outfit?” Asked Tuffnut.

“And why are you hot now?” Said Ruff.

“And tall?” Bit Snotlout.

“Yeah,” Astrid added. “Why did they make you older?”

“Well…” Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck as Stoick moved to stand beside him, hand on his shoulder. “There’s…a bit more to it. They gave me a job.”

“Something dangerous?” Stoick asked. “After all that, they put you into more danger?”

“It’s probably dangerous but…” he winced. “I’m kinda…a god now?”

The crowd burst into an uproar. Gasps, statements of denial and joy, and above it all, Snotlout, who was even more pissed.

“No freaking way!” He shouted. “I took down that giant tyrant with you, and all I get is a stupid dragon that doesn’t listen to me!”

In response, Hookfang bit down on his upper half and shook him like a toy.

“See?!” Snotlout’s indignant cry was muffled.

Once Stoick had processed this revelation, though Hiccup doubted he truly had, he said, “please explain, son.”

So Hiccup recounted all that had happened in the brief period he was away from Midgard. How he was now immortal and would be essentially running errands for the gods between realms on Toothless. He couldn’t fight the smile. There was exploration to be had! He’d see so much more than anyone could imagine! And he’d have an eternity to do so!

Stoick seemed ecstatic, but Astrid’s face scrunched up and she took a step back. Hiccup didn’t notice.

“My boy! A god!” Stoick laughed victoriously. “I take everything back! Your years of being the worst viking were years preparing you for this!”

“So you’re leaving us?” Asked Gobber, his face a mix between pride and sorrow.

“What? Oh no no,” Hiccup waved his hands about. “No, Odin said my next task is a few years out still, when they were supposed to ascend me. They just had to intervene because of…” he gestured in the direction of the retreating ships. “Yeah, apparently, those were Celtic people from the mainland. They needed a willing sacrifice in exchange for a warrior bestowed by their god to fight back the Romans.”

Stoick slowly nodded in understanding. “They tricked us. Tricked you. They played nice to get you to play along with them.”

“I had a bad feeling, but by then, it was too late.” He shrugged. “Well, I’m glad I survived to learn the lesson. You don’t have to be polite when someone is making you do something you don’t want to do.”

“Even if that something is becoming a god?” Astrid asked, her face neutral.

“To be fair, I tried to decline, but they said I would just die instead. So…this seemed like a good compromise.”

“Aye!” Said Stoick, grinning widely. “You came back to us!”

“And good thing, beyond your father’s sanity, we need help getting used to the dragon’s being around!” Said Gobber.

“Ah, yeah. I suppose that’s true. I don’t want to leave you guys in the lurch.”

Tuffnut wandered up and started poking Hiccup’s armor. “So, do you have, like, super powers now? Super strength?”

“No super strength. Odin said I will discover my abilities in time, and that they’re tailored to my tasks.”

“Fire breathing?” Asked Ruff.

“I don’t think so.”

“Flying?” Said Tuffnut.

“Technically yes, with Toothless.”

“Eye beams? Ice ray? Mind powers?” Ruffnut asked, as the twins played monkey in the middle with questions.

“I really don’t think so…”

“Then what can you do?” Asked Tuffnut.

Hiccup looked at his hands. “I don’t know my limitations. So far, I noticed I can speak and understand languages. I understood the Celts, and I could speak the dragon’s language. And I suppose I can travel to Asgard…though I’m not really sure how to do that yet.”

“What was that fire sword you had?” Asked Fishlegs.

“Oh!” Hiccup grabbed the handle that was now attached to his thigh. It seemed like a convenient place to put it, and it stayed. “I just…I knew I needed a weapon, so I thought about it and…I guess I made it with my mind?”

“Can you do it again?”

Hiccup held out his hand and thought about a war axe. Something big he could give to his father.

But nothing happened.

“Guess it’s only situational.” Hiccup shrugged.

“Pretty lame god to me,” said Snotlout.

Hiccup narrowed his eyes. “Hookfang, would you pull down Snotlout’s pants, please?”

The dragon perked up at Hiccup’s voice, and responded, “I’d be happy to!” He snagged the rear of Snotlout’s pants and yanked down, pulling them down to his ankles and ripping them in the process.

“Hey!” Snotlout yelped.

“Yes!” The twins cheered with a helmet slam. “Now our pranks are going to be next level!”

“Barf, Belch, would you make sure your riders stay out of trouble?”

“What? What did you say? What did you tell them?!” Ruffnut yelled.

“It’s okay, we’ll override it! Barf and Belch are our dragon! We’ll bribe them!”

Hiccup shook his head with a fond eyeroll. Then he turned to look at Astrid, but she was gone. Stormfly was still there, but Astrid had imperceptively snuck away.

She didn’t seem happy with his news. Was she repulsed? Or perhaps jealous, like Snotlout, and just being quiet about it?

Maybe he’d just give her some time to process. It was a lot to take in.

Honestly, he had his own doubts over the years that the gods were even real, given the tragedies the village had endured with the Red Death.

So it was a little alarming to know that yes, the gods were real, and there, and aware of him.

And now he was one of them.

As all good news was met with in Berk, a celebration was arranged. There would be food and mead and music.

Hiccup went along with it, now able to walk up the hill without any pain. His leg felt fine. His old wounds and burns felt fine too. He’d investigate later, and check for scars, but for now, he was just happy to be free of pain and able to enjoy the celebration.

—

Later that night, Hiccup sat on the lawn outside the Great Hall with Toothless. They talked. Really spoke with each other.

Hiccup learned that different dragons had different levels of intelligence and understanding. Terrible Terrors were about as smart as dogs, while Toothless was able to hold a full conversation.

It didn’t feel all that different. They’d always been able to communicate, in their own ways. Theirs was a bond that transcended communication anyway.

Still, it was nice to be able to say ‘I’m sorry about your tail fin’ and hear ‘I forgave you a long time ago’ back.

Hiccup learned more about Toothless’ life before coming here. A sad, lonely existence as the only Nightfury in the queen’s army in the last ten years. A lone egg to a stressed mother, parents devoured during a famine. A horrible life that he was not afraid to leave behind.

“I like it here,” said Toothless. “You are my home. I’m happy to be with you for eternity. I love you. I trust you.”

Hiccup couldn’t help the tears that came. Hearing how earnest Toothless was, how genuine his loyalty lay, it was humbling. “I love you too, bud. Thank you for everything.”

They stayed out there long after the celebration winded down and people trickled out of the Hall. Many people called congratulations to him, drunken and sober.

Then Astrid emerged, head down in thought, as she came down the stairs.

“Hey! Turning in for the night?” Hiccup called.

He watched her hunch her shoulders in a cringe.

Huh. So that’s what that looks like.

She turned to him, a fake smile on her lips. “O-oh! I didn’t see you there, Hiccup! I thought you—I thought you left a while ago.”

“Nope, just been sitting and talking with Toothless.”

“Oh…that’s…cool,” she glanced everywhere but at him.

“Something’s wrong,” said Toothless.

“Yeah, definitely,” Hiccup responded in kind.

Astrid focused on him, for once. “Did…did you say something to him?”

“Yeah. He said something’s up with you, and I’m inclined to agree.”

Even in the dark, with just the illumination from the Great Hall, he could see her face redden. “Oh no, no! I’m fine! Nothing’s up!”

If there was anything he knew about Astrid, it was that she was a poor liar. She was brutally honest, and wore her heart on her sleeve.

So to see her like this was weird.

“You snuck away earlier. I didn’t even see you leave.”

“Yeah I uh…I had to…use the latrine.” Her lips curled, a dead giveaway she didn’t like her excuse.

“Oh! Well, when you gotta go, you gotta go, I guess!”

“...yeah.” She glanced at her feet, then the stairs.

Hiccup got the feeling she was looking for an escape. Any moment now, she’d say, ‘well, goodnight!’ and bolt.

But he didn’t want that. He wanted to work through whatever weird obstacle had come up. He wanted to return to the easy going friendship they’d been cultivating. His crush hadn’t dulled at all, in fact, it grew everyday. He just wanted to spend time with her.

“You know,” he said, “I’m usually the one avoiding eye-contact.”

She tensed, her shoulders hunching and chin ducking. The perfect picture of a guilty party.

Bullseye.

He patted the ground beside him. “Let’s talk.”

She scoffed, but didn’t protest. She shuffled over and sat on the ground, her arms around her knees.

He didn’t push her. Just let her know he knew something bothered her.

Finally, she clicked her tongue and confessed, “I had a crush on you.”

He mimicked her stance, bracing his arms on his knees. “Had? You don’t anymore?”

She gnawed on her tongue, then said, “still do.”

He nodded, and tried not to get giddy.

“I have for a while.”

“Since that flight with Toothless?”

She shook her head. “No. Before that. Since…about a year. You’d been servicing my axe for a while. Gobber said so. I brought mine and my fathers to the forge one day, and when I got them back…my dad’s had been sharpened, but mine had been tightened, sharpened, polished. It looked like it always did when I got it back from the forge, but with the comparison…I just noticed you put a lot of care into my axe.”

“You noticed that, huh?” He blushed. “Yeah well…you always have your axe with you. You treasure it, so…” he just trailed off, hoping that sufficed for explanation.

She nodded. “I thought it was really sweet. So I was just…paying attention. You put a lot of passion and care into whatever you do. Your inventions were amazing, and you were so eager to show them off and help the village…it broke my heart when they failed. No one else seemed to notice what you were trying to do.”

Hiccup said nothing, just tapped his thumb on his knee.

“So yeah…I like you. But…I need to get over it. It’s not practical, right?”

He looked at her, his brows furrowed.

“You’re a god now, remember? It’s…well, it’s not a good idea. Long term, at least. You know, since you won’t grow old? It would have been easier earlier, since…well, you were cute but you’re also a huge dork.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But I was trying to keep my distance because…” she sighed, like it was painful to admit it. “You’re really handsome.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, bursting with affection.

“Don’t look at me like that!” She stood and brushed off her leggings. “Anyways, all you do is give me heart attacks because you keep dying. So it’s really for the best if I just stay away–”

Hiccup grabbed her arm and pulled.

She fell over sideways, right into his lap.

He hadn’t meant to do that, since he was still learning his own strength, but what was done was done.

She looked at him with wide, embarrassed eyes as he held her there.

“I had similar worries,” he smirked. “Freya figured me out right away. I asked if I had to give up my crush and developing relationship with you, and she said no.”

Astrid tightened her lips into a thin, nervous line.

“Long term, whoever I pick for my wife will also ascend. I heard the word ‘valkyrie’ used.”

She blushed fiercely. “Who said anything about marriage!? I’m not ready for that!”

“I’m not either,” he chuckled. “I’m just saying…it’s not hopeless. We can continue as we were. I mean, I can probably give you a piggy back ride now.”

She smiled shyly, looking away from him again. “I think…I’d like that. Besides all talk of romance, I like you as a person. You’re a lot smarter than the other kids on the island. We have a lot of fun together. I don’t want to lose that.”

He nodded. “I like racing with you, and the little bits of exploring we’ve done. Training dragons, helping the village integrate the dragons…I’ve appreciated you doing all of that with me.”

“Do you think I could come with you on one of these godly missions?”

He tilted his head, thoughtful. “I’d sure like you too. But I don’t know. I’d have to look into it.”

She nodded, satisfied.

“So we’re good? You won’t avoid me anymore?”

“Yes, we’re good. No more running. It’ll still take a while for me to get used to this, but…we’re good.”

“Good!”

So before he lost the nerve, he leaned in and pecked her on the lips. Just a touch, even shorter than the kiss she gave him when he woke up.

But you’d think it was something scandalous with how red Astrid got. She fought back a smile in vain, even as she turned her face away.

“I should probably let you know that I think you’re really pretty.”

“Thor on a board, stop!” She pushed him away, scrambling out of his hold.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No! J-just—!” She was giggling, so it couldn’t have been anything bad. She hauled off and punched him in the arm, full strength too.

It made his eyes water. “Ow! Odin, Astrid!”

“Oh, so you’re not impervious to a little punch, Mr. God?”

“I guess not!”

She cackled then, and Hiccup felt his chest swell with affection. He didn’t really know how deep Astrid’s feelings went, but he was happy to see her laughing and smiling again. Losing her would have made this whole deal worthless.

She got to her feet, and held out her hand.

He took hold, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

“God or mortal, I’m just glad you’re alright, Hiccup. It was…really scary, seeing that basket go up in flames.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then? For training?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great,” she squeezed his hand, reluctant to let go. “So…goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Still she hesitated a moment, pursing her lips and shifting her weight back and forth. Then she let go and dashed away, as he watched and sighed fondly.

“That was the most pathetic thing I have ever seen,” Toothless warbled.

“Pathetic? What’s pathetic about it?!”

“You. You’re absolutely smitten.”

“So?!”

“We’re gods now. And you’re mooning over a girl.”

“It’s not just any girl! It’s Astrid Hofferson! Of course I’m in love with her!”

Astrid called back from a distance. “You said that in Norse, muttonhead!”

“Oh gods…”

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