Chapter Text
“You cheater! Get back here!”
“Not a chance!” Jackson yelled back as he vaulted over the snow-covered hole Astrid ran into, literally, only to sink in with the first step. “This race is mine.”
“Not if I get to the village first!” the shieldmaiden’s voice shouted from behind him, quickly gaining on him as the Deadly Nadder rider shot passed him on a plank of wood.
“Now who’s the cheater?!” Laughter was his only reply but it didn’t deter the Druid and when he saw another piece of wood up ahead, a grin formed across his face. Reaching down, he scooped up the elongated plank while simultaneously using his other hand to secure his staff to his back. With a few more additional strides, the brunet tossed the piece of wood down and jumped on the Viking-style snowboard. After that, it was easy to catch up and surpass Astrid once more, winning their morning race for another day in a row.
“What’s that now, forty-nine to seventeen?” Jackson grinned as the blonde teenager finally made it to the village where the Druid—who had grown tired of waiting for her—was in the process of making a snowman. Currently, the brunet was rolling the last ball to make his snowman a head.
“Forty-nine to eighteen!” the shieldmaiden corrected taking her axe off her back and spearing it into the snowman’s body. Jackson tilted his head to the side with a frown and moved around the snowman, scrutinizing it with a critical eye before plopping the head on top. Withdrawing a few stones from his back pouch, he placed them in various positions, creating a face, and took a few steps back when he was finished in order to get a better look.
A smirk graced his face and he turned back to the fuming blonde at his side, making a flourishing gesture towards the snowman. “May I present to you, Dagur the Deranged: The Snowman.”
There was a moment of silence before Astrid’s lips started to twitch upwards and she ended up shaking her head. “That looks nothing like him—” walking forward, the shieldmaiden looked around, finding a few fallen sticks and twigs which she arranged so Snowman Dagur was pulling at nonexistent red hair “—now it looks like him.”
The quiet didn’t last long as the two burst out into laughter and looked at each other with matching grins. “I’ll make Savage.”
“I’ll make Mildew.”
That was how Snotlout found them later, in the middle of a battlefield of snowman Vikings being assisted by various children and teens who had readily joined in on the snow constructions when they had stumbled upon the two builders. A few Wyldfae—who no longer felt the need to hide with the Outcast Vikings back on their own island—were zipping about from one snow sculpture to the next, arranging faces for the snowmen or adding stick limbs to the creations.
“Um… is that me?” the Monstrous Nightmare rider squeaked upon seeing a horrible representation of what had to be him since it was wearing his old helmet. How they managed to get their hands on said helmet was a mystery to him.
“Uh-huh, it’s great, right?” Gustav cheerfully replied as he packed more snow around the snow Viking’s belly, making the Snotlout snowman look more like another heavier-set Viking and less like the broad-shouldered brunet.
“No! What’s going on here?” the teenager demanded, glaring at the Monstrous Nightmare trainee as a little burnt orange light flew off his shoulder and around the snow representation of him. A tinkering noise from the fae had Snotlout scowling more when he recognized the sound of Fawn’s laughter. “You know what? I don’t care, just point me towards Astrid.”
“She’s over there with Jackson,” Wartihog pointed towards the densest part of the snowman collection, not looking away from the Hookfang snowdragon he was working on with Speedifist and Clueless.
Grumbling, the Monstrous Nightmare rider stomped over in the indicated direction and stilled when he passed by a snowman with an axe to its midsection. Eyeing it, he shook his head and kept going, speeding up when he spotted a flash of blonde hair.
“Hey, Astrid!”
Turning at the sound of her name, the shieldmaiden raised an eyebrow when she spotted him. “Snotlout, what do you want?”
“No need to be a grouch, just thought I’d let you know Fawn says the dragons will be returning today,” the Viking grunted, kicking the Berserker snowman to his right and inadvertently causing it to topple over.
“Hey! I was still working on that,” Jackson pouted when he was revealed now that the snowman was no longer in the way. Brown eyebrows furrowed together as amber eyes inspected his creation. “Actually, it looks better that way. Thanks, Snotlout.”
“Jackson, did you hear? The dragons are migrating back today!” Astrid quickly informed the brunet—and the rest of the group of snowmakers, causing the children to cheer—as she tugged her axe out of the Mildew Snowman. She still had some unresolved anger issues with the man for breaking her father’s leg.
“Tis quite fitting, the Magical Creatures of Fire returning on the day which marks Winter’s End,” Periwinkle spoke from on top of the ice sculpture she had done of Jackson, which looked like the spitting image of him.
“It’s the Winter Solstice?” the Druid asked as amber eyes went wide at the nod of the Dewdrop Faerie’s head. “By Odin! I forgot about Yule. It started today!”
Standing up, Jackson quickly dusted off the snow from his clothing and grabbed his staff implanted upright in the snow. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about Yuletide, he had every intention of celebrating it in the traditional way his family had during his days in Hawthorne. However, he had incorrectly assumed that Snoggletog and Christmas were celebrated on the same day which led to him losing track of the days. In the back of his mind, he absentmindedly noted the last day of Yuletide coincided with Snoggletog.
“Doth not vexeth thyself, the day is still young and there art timeth yet to properly celebrate Winter’s End and Summer’s Beginning,” the icy blue orb buzzed around the anxious brunet’s head before he could bolt.
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Jackson nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right Periwinkle, no need to worry. It’s only the first day of Yuletide, I’ve got time still and I only need the candles right now, which Typhan should have.” Turning to look at the two Vikings—Astrid busy filling Snotlout in on what exactly Yuletide was—the Druid chewed at his bottom lip. “Listen, it’s great the dragons are coming back and I really want to be there when they do return, but I’ve got a few things to do right now, meet up with you guys later at the Academy?”
There wasn’t even any time between the end of his sentence and Snotlout snapping out. “As if we’re leaving you to do this alone, this is important to you, right?”
“Yeah, you’ve been there for us and now it’s our turn to be there for you,” Astrid agreed, nodding her head and crossing her arms over her chest, showing she wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise.
Jackson found himself blinking a few times before amber eyes softened. “Well, like I said, right now I just need to get the candles from Typhan to light one for the first day. Oh, but what about the tree hunting? Hmm… I guess, technically, the Snoggletog tree could be considered for the decorated tree… but—”
“But nothing,” the brunet Viking cut him off, “if you need to go tree hunting and decorating or whatever, we’ll go with you.”
“Hmm,” the Druid hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin and looking up at the sky. “The candle lighting can wait until later then, but we’ll need to gather some decorations for the tree. There’re some smaller baubles at the smithy Gobber made as tests for the bigger ones I could use.”
“I can get some ribbon,” the shieldmaiden suggested.
“I’ve got some old dragon’s teeth I’ve been collecting you could use,” Snotlout offered with a shrug.
“That’d be great!"
“Okay, let’s gather the stuff and meet here when we’re finished,” Astrid commanded, and the two brunets nodded their heads and each headed out.
Hanging back for a moment, Jackson looked to Periwinkle, Fawn, and a few of the other gathered fae. “Would you guys like to come with?”
The Wyldfae glanced at one another before shaking their heads, the icy blue orb speaking for the group. “These ones do appreciate the offer thou has extended, but we have our own celebration to attend to in Pixie Hollow.”
“Have fun then,” the Druid nodded his head and headed back to the village.
Effortlessly, he weaved through the numerous Vikings standing around and gossiping about the rumored arrival of the dragons. It made him shake his head at how fast news seemed to travel through the village during the winter compared to the warmer seasons. Then again, there wasn’t much to do with the potential superstorms of Devastating Winter lingering over their heads and no one was about to venture too far from the village, risking being caught in one of them with the potential threat of death.
Arriving at the smithy shop, Jackson was disappointed Hiccup wasn’t around to rope into going with him. Still, he made quick work of gathering up the various smaller baubles Gobber worked on to perfect his skill before moving on to the larger ones, and placed them gently into a woven basket to keep them from breaking. Spotting a large bag on his workbench, the Druid debated with himself before collecting it too and turned around, almost jumping out of his skin when he ran into a larger body.
“Typhan! You scared me,” the brunet sighed, taking a step back so he could look up at the tall Titan Constellation. “I was actually going to come to see you later today.”
“To pick up the candles, yes I know. I actually came here to offer you the use of my hut, it would be better suited for you to leave the candles there to burn instead of elsewhere in this village,” Typhan offered and Jackson quickly picked up on the implication, the candles were potential fire hazards in any Viking’s wooden huts yet the Titan Constellation had some magical protections to keep the flames of the candles burning throughout Yuletide without catching his house on fire.
“I would very much appreciate that,” the Druid smiled having one more thing for Yuletide taken care of and one less thing to worry about.
“That is not the only reason I have sought you out, young one,” the man said causing the teenager to tilt his head to the side and glance at the Guild Master with a perplexed look. “I heard it was a tradition in your clan to give a gift during Yuletide.”
“How the…? The winds told you, didn’t they?” the answer dawned on Jackson even before he could finish formulating his question. The gust of winds that swirled around him and the nod of the Titan Constellation’s head was answer enough. “But I can’t accept. I don’t have anything for you.”
“Do not fret, young one, the food you cooked while staying with me was more than enough of a gift. I don’t think I’ve eaten that well since before those Pirates attacked me,” Typhan reassured the uncomfortable brunet as he reached into his long sleeves and withdrew a silver armlet, and handed it to Jackson. Taking it, the amber eyes examined the delicately twisted silver piece of jewelry which would wrap around his arm twice with intricate spirals branching off from the bottom and top in a way he knew represented the winds. However, each of the spirals had little spikes branching out from the outermost rings, giving them the appearance of snowflakes.
“It’s beautiful,” the teenager felt a wave of emotion wash over him at his first Yuletide gift since he had fallen into the frozen pond. Setting down the bag and basket, Jackson pulled off his arm bracer and slipped the armlet onto his right bicep, quickly replacing the piece of armor. Admiring the silver piece of jewelry, he looked up and smiled at the older man. “Thank you Typhan.”
“You are most welcome, Jackson. Now you better be off, your friends are waiting for you,” which the winds confirmed with a nudge to get him going. With a parting farewell to the Titan Constellation, the brunet collected his belongings and jogged off to meet up with Snotlout and Astrid. He was quite confused when he found not only those two Dragon Riders already there waiting for him but all of them.
“Uh… Hi? What are you all doing here?”
“I’m actually not sure why, do you know?” Ruffnut scratched her head and turned to Tuffnut who shrugged his shoulders.
“We’re going tree hunting,” Fishlegs informed the twins.
“Why? What did the trees ever do to you that we have to hunt them down?” Belch’s rider asked, rubbing his chin as he tried to think of what the tree could have possibly done to them. “Oo-oo, can I be the one to hack it down?”
“There's not going to be any cutting down trees, Tuff, we’re going to decorate one,” Jackson corrected the twins and held up the basket of baubles. The two looked a little putout but then brightened, quickly relieving the brunet of the basket, and began pawing through it.
Glancing at one another, the twins gave their famous grins which had Fishlegs and Snotlout taking a step away from either side of them. “Let’s go then!”
“We should probably follow them,” Astrid sighed, shifting the ribbon looped around her shoulder like rope higher up, and followed the two other blondes. Fishlegs scurried off after the shieldmaiden and Snotlout tugging along behind, dragging a good size bag with a few dragons’ teeth poking through various holes in the material.
The Druid made to follow but was held back by Hiccup who was looking at him with a strange look. “Why didn’t you remind me? About Yuletide that is? I know you said it was important to you. Yet I had to find out from Astrid what was going on.”
Ducking his head, Jackson bit his bottom lip, feeling guilty for not searching for Hiccup after coming up empty at the smithy. He was so flustered with himself about forgetting about Yuletide, that he forgot to include the other Dragon Riders when they had included him. The thought had him feeling even worse than he already did.
“Honestly? I forgot myself; it was only because of Periwinkle I remembered and then everything just was happening so fast. I didn’t mean to leave you—any of you—out.”
“Well, if it wasn’t intentional, I guess I can let it slide,” the Night Fury rider grinned, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “Just tried to remember to tell me in the future then, yeah?”
“I will,” the brunet smiled softly and grabbed hold of Hiccup’s hand, pulling him along. “Come on; let’s go find the perfect tree.”
With that, the tree hunting began. Many were found and discarded for various reasons. The twins’ choice was nothing more than a leafless bush. Fishlegs’s tree was too tiny for them to decorate while Snotlout’s choice was way too big. The shieldmaiden, while not picking out any trees of her own, was the one to dismiss all of the other's choices. Oddly enough, it was Toothless who found a perfect tree for the teenagers to decorate. From there, it became great fun in stringing the tree with ribbons and baubles and dragons’ teeth.
Once done, the group took a step back to look over their work. “So, how does it look?”
“Great,” the Druid shot Hiccup a smile, “but it’s missing one thing.”
“What?” Fishlegs asked, trying to see what was missing from the tree, and completely missed the Druid picking up the discarded large bag he'd been carrying with him.
“Presents, of course,” Jackson grinned when all of the Dragon Riders looked at him incredulously.
“Presents, you didn’t say anything about presents,” Snotlout grumbled to Astrid in a not-so-quiet whisper.
“I didn’t know!”
“It’s alright, it’s my tradition, not yours. There’s no need to worry,” the amber-eyed teenager put a cease to the growing uneasiness, “and since you’re all Vikings, I got you all weapons. Well, most of you,” Jackson amended pulling out the first gift from his bag and handing it to the heavyset Viking, “since you already have a weapon of your own to use Fishlegs, I made you a sheath for the Gronckle Iron sword. The fae enchanted it so only those you trust will be able to withdraw any blade you put in it.”
“It’s so soft,” the Gronckle rider whispered, running his fingers across the leather as Jackson moved on, pulling another gift out of the bag. This time, he pulled out the dagger Finn had given to him so long ago. It was only fitting that it should go to his niece.
“For Astrid, a dagger perfectly balanced,” the Druid said, passing the sheathed blade over, and pulled out a good size mace he had commissioned from Gobber, “and a mace for Snotlout.”
Swinging it around a few times, the Monstrous Nightmare rider grinned. “A good weapon for a great Viking.”
The next to be pulled out from the bag was a set of wooden poles with leather grips wrapped around their lengths and blades tied to one end. “Twin spears for the twins.”
“Awesome!” the twins cheered and immediately attempted to impale each other with the blades only for Astrid to step between the two and prevent any bodily injury.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” the shieldmaiden asked, eyeing each twin to make sure they weren’t going to misbehave at the moment.
“Not really, no,” Jackson grinned at her, placing the empty bag down and began rummaging into the pouch behind him. His hand returned with a round, palm-sized object with a dome top that had a framework-like design. Pressing a small button, the dome flipped open to reveal the object to be a compass. “Last, but not least, a compass for Hiccup.”
“A compass?” the Head of the Academy asked, taking the object from him and watching as the needle in the middle spun around on its own accord.
Blushing, the Druid ducked his head. “Uh… it’s a special compass, enchanted by the Villas, the Hamadryads, and the winds—to represent water, earth, and air—so you will never get lost. Actually, there’s something you should all know.”
“What?” Snotlout asked, hefting the mace from one hand to the next, trying to get a good feel for the weight of it.
“Your weapons? They’ve all been begotten in the breath of a dragon,” Jackson rubbed the back of his head with the hand not holding his staff.
Fishlegs almost dropped his new sheath when his head shot up, green eyes staring wide-eyed at the brunet. “What? Really? You actually went through with it? Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve liked to watch.”
Amber eyes rolled and he shook his head. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise,” not to mention very few dragons ever actually allowed their magic to flow into any kind of weapon and it had taken a lot of effort for him to convince the dragons to do so, “and I did find out that the different species of dragons does affect the weapons inherited abilities.”
“Really, how so?” the heavyset Viking bounced up and down.
“Astrid, your dagger, when thrown will never leave your hand yet a likeness of the blade will embed itself where you aimed before fading from existence. A deviation of Stormfly’s spine shot I assume. The mace you’re holding Snotlout, will release a blast of wind similar to Hookfang’s wind blast when it connects with something. In other words, be careful with them, the dragons might just very well eat me if you abuse their gifts,” Jackson warned half teasing, half serious while Toothless nodded his head in agreement behind him.
“We’ll be careful with them, we promise,” Astrid answered for the group, “won’t we?” The sharp growl had the twins and Snotlout nodding their heads in agreement. “Good.”
“Hey, what about ours?” Tuffnut asked, waving his spear around in the air. A sudden jolt of lightning darted out from the tip of the blade and jumped towards the matching spear in his sister’s hand where it dissipated harmlessly.
“Ruff, Tuff there was some problems with begotten your spears in the breath of Barf and Belch since Zippleback gas is a little touchy. So, instead, I had some help in enchanting the spears to act in conjunction with each other, creating bolts of lightning which will travel from one spear tip to the other,” the Druid smiled knowingly, not wanting to inform them their ancestor had been the one to enchant the weapons at his request. Well, technically, it had been Mr. Vadderung asking. However, Jackson asked the man to ask the god for his assistance, so in the end, he asked the Thorstons’ ancestor for assistance.
“Awesome,” the twins cheered.
They stayed for a little bit longer, examining each other’s gifts, and had a good time before rumbling stomachs cried out for food. None of them had eaten since the morning meal served in the Great Hall and Jackson was once more drafted into cooking for them. He wasn’t alone in the draft since Hiccup’s hut was picked to convene at. Once more, the Druid was held back by a hand around his arm whilst the rest of the Dragon Riders departed.
“Uh… Jackson,” Hiccup spoke only when the others were gone, fumbling around with his vest pocket. “I was going to give you this during Snoggletog, but umm… here.”
Trembling hands shoved something small into his palm. Looking down, amber eyes found a leather cord with a small silver charm no bigger than his crystal tied to the end. What had Jackson sucking in a gulp of air was the fact he was holding a snowflake and no ordinary snowflake either. This snowflake was a perfect replica of the first snowflake he had ever created as Jack Frost, which resembled the snowflakes in the armlet he wore to some degree.
“I uh… Bucket helped me come up with the idea,” the chief’s son rubbed the back of his neck, vivid green eyes darting to the side to avoid making eye contact with the brunet who had yet to say anything, “and uh… I made it with the extra silver I had left over from making Typhan the armlet—”
Jackson quickly cut the Dragon Rider off, amber eyes going wide at the unintentional revelation. “You made the armlet too?”
“Well, yeah, but I uh… didn’t know he was giving it to you and umm—” Hiccup was interrupted yet again by the brunet, this time by Jackson’s lips on his own.
“They’re both beautiful, thank you,” Jackson whispered, tying the charm onto his staff right next to his crystal and Toothless’s scale. “I’ll treasure them. Always.”
“One year.”
“Over a year.”
“Do you regret any of it?”
There was a bit of a silent stretch. “At first? Yes. Later? I wasn’t sure what to think. I was confused about who I thought I should be and who I was.”
“And now?”
A smile graced Jackson’s lips as he looked down the cliff at the ocean below his dangling feet. “I know exactly who I am.”
“And who’s that?”
“You know.”
“Humor an old man.”
“Alright Old Man,” the brunet grinned, taking that as permission to finally call the man by the nickname he had given the blond—in the future when he had storm cloud-colored hair—man as he stood up to his full height and twirled his staff around his fingers before slamming the butt against the ground. “I’m Jackson Overland, fifteen winters old, a descendant of the Taliesin clan, future Guardian of Fun: Jack Frost with over three hundred years of knowledge to rely upon, up-and-coming sorcerer, member of Berk’s Dragon Training Academy.”
“Druid of Berk,” Bucket added, presenting Jackson with a silver pin the size of his palm with a motif consisting of three interlocking spirals extending clockwise from the center.
It was a triskele. A revered symbol that had over time become an emblem Druids wore to identify themselves to one another. However, what was so special about this triskele was the engraving on the metal. It was hard at first to tell what was etched in the silver with so much of the image missing, but amber eyes could imagine and draw in the missing lines between the spirals to form The Berk Crest.
“Happy Yuletide, Jackson.”
“Thank you,” the teenager threw himself at the taller man, hugging him tightly. Releasing his hold on Bucket, the Druid took the pin and fastened it to his leg pouch before reaching into the pocket and producing a wooden goblet he had painstakingly carved from rowan wood with a wolf’s head protruding slightly out of the side. He presented the smaller-than-average cup to the Viking with a smile on his face. “Happy Yuletide, Mr. Vadderung.”
“Excellent craftsman work,” the blond man smiled and looked out to the ocean where a mass of dark shadows were moving towards the island. “It looks like you’ll be needed soon.”
Glancing behind him, Jackson smiled as he caught sight of Toothless helping usher the dragons of Berk back home for the holidays. “It looks like it, be seeing you. Later, Old Man!”
With that the brunet took a few steps back and timed it just right before running towards the cliffs, using his staff to launch himself over the edge and into the open air. The winds helped propel him the extra few inches he needed to vault off of Grump—saying a quick hello to the Boulder-class dragon—and tumble across the Typhoomerang’s massive wings, pausing long enough to gain his bearings on Torch’s back. Turning, Jackson ran across the orange dragon’s spine, down his tail, and dove off.
As he got closer and closer to the ocean, amber eyes watched the waters darken before a large blue head surfaced and Scauldy sprayed a blast of heated water—not too hot thankfully—at his descending form. Twisting in the air so the water hit his back and hurled him back into the air where Firefang flicked his tail to the side for the Druid to catch. Another whip of the Monstrous Nightmare’s tail—this time directly upwards—had Jackson flying further up into the sky where he came face to face with Skully. The Boneknapper blinked a few times as the brunet became weightless, yet before gravity could take hold, the Mystery-class dragon released a loud roar that had him sailing backwards.
Thankfully, Flystorm swooped down and wrapped his talons around the end of the offered staff. The next part had to be timed just right and with a shout for the Deadly Nadder to release him, the Druid fell all of twenty feet before he hooked his staff to Meatlug’s tail. He waited a few more seconds before nudging the staff free and falling onto Barf’s head where he skidded down the Hideous Zippleback’s long neck and ran down his body, flipping off the dragon’s tail. A wind blast from Hookfang had him higher up in the air where he could grab hold of Stormfly’s tail and held on tight until she flew right over the Night Fury.
The Deadly Nadder lowered her tail, allowing Jackson to slide off and onto Toothless’s back, where he latched onto Hiccup. “Hi, Hiccup!”
“What the—? How the—We’re in the middle of the ocean! How’d you get out here?” the Dragon Rider sputtered, whipping his head around to stare at the Druid—who was currently leaning over to look at the boat carrying the hatchlings sailing below the Night Fury—with wide green eyes.
“You really want to know?” the brunet asked as a giant grin split his face in two. “I’ll show you.”
With that simple statement, Jackson tilted his weight to the side and slipped off of the Night Fury’s back much to the alarm of both dragon and rider. Summersaulting on the way down—even as Hiccup and Toothless tried to speed up to catch him—the brunet landed feet first on Fanghook’s back where he ran up the Monstrous Nightmare’s spine and jumped to grab hold of Neðan’s spiked tail with his staff. He proceeded to make his way back to Berk in a similar fashion as he had done to reach Hiccup, laughing joyously as Toothless weaved his way around the various dragons trying to catch up to the brunet.
-
“This is Berk. We've got ice, we've got snow and we've got more ice. But we've also got dragons. We train them—”
Stormfly sniffed the air before sending out a single spine shot to break one of the various plates lined up around the Academy, shattering it to pieces while revealing Sneaky. Astrid shouted in delight at the Deadly Nadder’s tracking skills and proceeded to feed both dragons a piece of chicken as a reward for a job well done. Typhan politely clapped his hands before throwing a handful of plate-size rings up into the air in a widespread circle and signaled to Firefang. The dragon zipped up into the air and caught every single ring on his horns. The shieldmaiden could only gawk at the tight turns and maneuverability it had taken for the Monstrous Nightmare to complete such a feat.
“—learn from them—”
Fishlegs was busy at work recording the new information they had learned about the dragons into The Book of Dragons near the Snoggletog tree while Terrorthi, Snuffnut, and Gustav enthusiastically tried to help by providing him everything they’d learned from being partnered up with their respected dragon species. In doing so, the children kept disturbing the Boulder-class dragon trying to sleep. However, they soon were sidetracked by Iggy stealing Fanghook’s fish and taking off with it. The Monstrous Nightmare, in turn, took off after the Terrible Terror with Neðan and Torch hot on his tail and their riders running after them. Chuckling, the Gronckle rider hid the picture of a fish under his book and hugged Meatlug when she nudged him in the side.
“—protect them—”
Mulch cooed softly to Scauldy, keeping the Tidal-class dragon’s attention on him as Bucket carefully worked to pull the spear out of her wing. The usually calm and collected man grumbled curses the whole time at the idiot who had dared to stab her. With one final tug, the spear came out and the blond Viking hurried to cover it with some cloth to cease the flow of blood. A few seconds of pressure—and an unnoticeable glow from his hand—Bucket pulled the cloth away to reveal a much smaller wound.
“—and they protect us. Sometimes from ourselves. —”
Ruffnut and Tuffnut were busy arguing with Huffnut and Gruffnut, about what, none of them remembered. However, when it started to come to physical blows, their dragons stepped in. Barf and Belch picked up the younger Thorstons and held them away from their older siblings while Head and Butt sat on their helmets, annoyingly singing their displeasure. Skully took it upon himself to flatten his rider with his tail—keeping him pinned—as Flystorm wrapped his wings around the Berk Guard’s commander, preventing her from advancing on the twins.
“—One thing's for sure. We wouldn't trade this for anything. —”
Jackson was busy chasing after Toothless who had the Druid’s staff in his mouth. Yet, whenever he was close to snatching it back, the Night Fury would toss the gnarled piece of wood into the air where Sharpshot would swoop down and grab hold of it, frantically flapping his wings as he flew in the opposite direction. Gobber looked up from nudging Grump with his foot—in an attempt to get the Boulder-class dragon to restart the forge’s fire—and shook his head as he watched the brunet dash after the green Terrible Terror, but knew not to interfere going on the delightful laughter coming from Jackson; especially when the teenager turned, only to end up running straight into Hiccup, knocking them both over. The blush from both of their faces could be seen by all who cared to look close enough.
“—Would you?”