There was something odd about the Night Fury.
Seeing a Night Fury at all was strange enough in itself, but the dragon's behavior was another matter entirely. Most dragons new to the nest were admittedly a bit cautious at first, but were soon soothed enough to take advantage of the sprawling expanse of the nest.
Even the most skittish dragons settled in once they were welcomed by the Bewilderbeast. It was in the nature of the dragons to feel safe in the king's presence, knowing that he watched over and protected their nest. She'd never seen one look concerned by the welcome before…yet the newest arrival had been visibility rattled.
Then, of course, there was the way that it hovered. Valka could often feel the weight of the dragon's gaze on her. Whenever she'd turn to catch the Night Fury's eye, he was always watching with pupils narrowed to near slits.
The behavior wasn't necessarily aggressive, but it was worth keeping note of in case things shifted into more dangerous territory. She suspected the dragon was more anxious than angry, considering the way he had reacted both to her and to the Bewilderbeast.
The Night Fury was missing a limb. Perhaps he had come from a traumatic situation, and that abuse had taken away his willingness to trust others? Though the thought saddened her, Valka could understand. She'd seen many horrid injuries in her days, often being the one to offer treatment to the wounded dragons that made their way into the nest. Each time, her heart ached to see them suffer.
Perhaps, with time, this new dragon's fears could be eased. The nest was a utopia for dragonkind, outfitted to address the needs of each species that called it home. With the added protection of the Bewilderbeast, there was no in-fighting to worry about. It was a safe, secure home for all who chose to dwell there – Valka had done everything she could to ensure that over the years.
The Night Fury just didn't understand that yet.
Valka was determined to keep an eye on the dragon's progress, curious as to when he would finally settle. Perhaps if she identified any emotional triggers etting him off, she could help speed up the process.
Discretion was key, as with any skittish animal. As such, she did not outwardly watch the Night Fury. Instead, she kept a mental note of where she felt she was being watched, catching glimpses of black scales out of her periphery throughout the day.
He never got too close, but his attention never wavered. She supposed he was curious, seeing a human within a dragon's domain. She was a rarity in that sense.
In a way she enjoyed the steady company. Most of the dragons in the nest were fairly independent, only seeking her out for play or to have injuries assessed. They'd long since accepted her role in the fortress, interest having waned over time.
Being the focus of such a legendary dragon's attention was also a bit of a thrill. It took her back to her early days in the nest, when the sight of the Bewilderbeast had left her feeling overwhelmed and ever so small.
She'd been a different woman then.
Valka went about her daily duties, humming old shanties as she worked. Music was one of the things she missed most from her days in Berk, as her new companions had no need or interest for it. Over time, her memories of the sounds of the village instruments had grown hazy, but she never forgot the simple melodies.
"...on savage seas…"
She was determined to keep it so, singing or humming the few she knew best each day to cement them in memory. There were very few things she could hold onto from her old life, and she was intent on preserving them.
She was just just wrapping up her chores for the day when she felt the weight of the Night Fury's gaze suddenly disappear. Curious, she turned to look for where it had gone.
In the warm and fading sunlight, she caught sight of a patch of dark scales disappearing into one of the tunnels.
Valka was torn. Though she prided herself in not overstepping her boundaries with the dragons, her curiosity had been spiked by this new arrival. The outsider was an anomaly, and she supposed it was her duty to ensure the new dragon would not stir up trouble for the rest of the residents.
She deliberated internally, biting her lip as she went back and forth on her choices. It wasn't until the sun had set that she found herself striding towards the tunnel, mind made up.
Once she'd checked up on him properly, she'd leave the fury alone.
Valka kept her steps light and quiet as she navigated the ice labyrinth, mindful not to spook the dragon in her approach. The claw tracks were easy enough to follow, as one uneven pattern was distinctly different from the others.
She slipped down the corridor, picking up her pace. The tracks led her to a fork in the road, and when she turned, she was faced with a baffling sight.
There was no dragon to be found. Instead, a human figure was crouched low on the floor, midway through slipping into a cave of sorts.
An intruder – here? How is this possible?
Valka cleared her throat loudly, alerting the stranger to her presence.
The figure jerked, hitting his shoulder hard on the ice. It was a young man, she observed, as he pulled himself up and away from the cave with a wince.
He was tall and wiry, clothed in a simple red tunic and dark trousers. Wide green eyes regarded her with warring fear and surprise, blocked only by a few strands of messy auburn hair. The boy's body language was rigid, and he was quick to cross his arms tightly across his chest, burrowing his hands in his armpits.
Odd.
"Who are you?" She wasted no time with pleasantries, having had little need for them over the years. There was a deliberate sharpness to her voice, cutting right to the chase.
The young man blinked at her, face draining of color.
"I said," she insisted, "Who are you?"
Still the boy did not respond, only shaking his head a few times, expression shifting into something akin to panic.
Perhaps he does not speak Norse? She wondered idly, unsure why else he continued to evade the question.
"Oh. Uh…well…"
Or not.
Valka strode forward, using her staff to shove the boy roughly against the wall of ice. She held him in place, staff barring him from making any moves. "You are trespassing in this place. I will not ask again."
She leaned closer, glaring in impatience.
The boy wavered under her gaze, twisting his head to look away. In doing so, his chin caught a bit of moonlight. There was a scar – long, thin and distinctly shaped. She'd know it anywhere.
Her grip on the staff faltered. It clattered to the floor, all but forgotten.
With shaky hands, Valka reached out towards the boy, voice breaking. "Hiccup?"
Hiccup had often dreamed about what it would be like to meet his mother. Though he'd believed it to be impossible, he'd spent many hours of his youth fantasizing about a happy reunion for his family. Sometimes, it was a weepy affair, and his father was a changed man in having his wife back. Other times, she'd see just how miserable he was growing up in Berk, and she'd whisk him away to start a new life elsewhere.
Even after he'd been cursed, he'd still entertained those fantasies, although they had evolved. He'd imagine her there by his side in his makeshift home, someone to comfort him and rescue him from his solitude. Someone who didn't resent him for being cursed – who loved him unconditionally.
Throughout it all, he'd seen her as an unwavering bastion of love and acceptance. Someone who's arrival would bring him both joy and relief. Someone who would fix things.
Reality had a strange way of turning his expectations on head.
Standing before his mother now, something that he'd once believed would be a miracle…he found himself filled instead with disappointment. That perfect picture of her had shattered, leaving behind the harsh truth.
"So you do remember me," the words left his mouth before his mind caught up to them. "Imagine that."
In all the ways he'd imagined meeting her again…he'd never anticipated that his first words would be an accusation. Then again, he'd never thought she'd chosen to abandon her family.
To abandon him.
His tone may have been harsh, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.
Valka jerked back as if she'd been struck, stumbling a few steps. Her hands fell to her sides, confidence bleeding out of her posture. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, her eyes darted away from him, fixing on where her staff lay discarded on the floor.
Hiccup took advantage of her distraction to discreetly pull his sleeves down, obscuring the sight of his left hand. If he could keep the mark out of sight, perhaps he could still escape with his secrets intact.
"A mother never forgets." Valka managed after a moment of silence, fidgeting with her armor.
"It would almost be better if you had," snarked Hiccup, raising his eyebrows. "Amnesia would at least explain why you abandoned…your tribe."
Abandoned me.
Though unspoken, Valka seemed to grasp the deeper meaning. Her face crumbled, but she gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I suppose that would make things easier," she agreed, "but the truth is never easy, is it?"
Hiccup said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
"I didn't…Hiccup, you must know I didn't choose to leave you. I loved you. I loved your father. Berk was my home, I never planned to leave it."
"Dad told me about the night you were taken," admitted Hiccup, leaning back against the tunnel wall. "We – well everyone on Berk – thought you were dead. Probably eaten by the dragon that took you."
Though that had been the most common theory, upon learning about the Red Death…he'd feared she might have been another one of the queen's victims.
Valka nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes, that is what I'd expect Berk to believe," she muttered under her breath.
"Clearly that wasn't the case," continued Hiccup, using his right hand to gesture roughly towards her. "It doesn't really matter now. You might not have chosen to leave, but you chose not to return."
"Hiccup–"
"Dad needed you," he cut her off sharply, "I…I needed you."
All those years of mourning, of wishing for her to be there…and for what? She'd been less than a day's journey away. She could have returned at any time.
"I am sorry, Hiccup…truly, I am. When I was brought here," her voice was quiet, hesitant. "I would have done anything to come home to you, but things changed. You have to understand – Berk was a battlefield my entire life. There was no peace, no understanding…just endless bloodshed and carnage. I'd always been taught there was no other way, but there is! The dragons are intelligent, peaceful beings–"
"I know."
"–and I couldn't return to that life." She blinked, mind catching up to his words. "You know?"
"I know. The raids are over," he said shortly. "Berk doesn't fight dragons anymore."
"Impossible."
"No, it's true," he promised, "There was a queen controlling them – turns out, that was the only reason they were ever raiding Berk. Once we got rid of her, they all calmed down. Now they just sort of live in the woods nearby. We don't bother them, they don't bother us."
Valka looked surprised by the admission. "Is that so?"
Hiccup nodded.
"Huh," she mused. "I didn't think it was possible…"
"Well, it is," he said, pushing off from the wall. He leaned back down into his cave, retrieving his bag before straightening up, "and I really ought to be heading home. You know…back to my family."
If Valka was bothered by the dig, she didn't show it. Instead, she moved to block his path. "You're leaving?"
"That's the plan – been here long enough."
"But you just…" Her eyes darted between him and the opening in the ice, brow furrowing. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to find your letter," he retorted, slinging his bag over his shoulder and maneuvering around her.
"You were in my chambers?"
"Is that really the concern right now?" Hiccup asked, spinning to give her an incredulous look. "I think I'm entitled to a little snooping, considering everything."
For a moment Valka looked angry at his words, but it was quickly replaced by a grim acceptance. "You're right, of course. I suppose I cannot expect your forgiveness."
"Forgiveness is earned."
Hiccup started down a path blindly, not sure of his own plan. He knew there was no easy escape from the fortress, but he couldn't bear to admit to his own helplessness. Not now.
Hours passed.
Hiccup continued to steadily evade his mother, listening intently for the sound of her presence. He was familiar enough with the cave network now that he had a rough idea of what offshoots led to dead ends, careful to avoid any places he could be cornered.
A traitorous wave of guilt had been building since he'd left her, eating away at him. Part of him longed to take back his harsh words and see if they could mend their fractured relationship, but he pushed it down deep.
If she'd wanted a bond with him, she'd had twenty years to try.
Hiccup told himself that he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do. He'd come to the nest to learn about dragons – and he had. Observing Valka had helped him understand the creatures better, and how best to interact with them. Though he'd still hoped to learn more…he'd gotten what he wanted. There was no reason to stay.
…right?
It was a relief to feel the familiar tingling in his veins, knowing that he'd soon have the freedom to escape.
"–Hiccup!?"
Oh gods, no.
He panicked, picking up his pace. He hadn't heard her coming, her footsteps almost as light as his own.
In his rush, Hiccup wasn't as cautious navigating the path ahead. He didn't see an uneven patch of ice jutting from the floor until it was too late – his prosthetic caught on it, ripped out of place. He lost his balance, finding himself crashing to the floor.
No, no, no…
"Hiccup!"
His heart pounded as he realized just how close she was to him now. There was no way he'd be able to–
Fire erupted around him.
A gasp.
Valka had seen many mystifying things throughout the decades. Dragons were known to be mysterious creatures – each species having its own secrets. She'd seen camouflage so complete it seemed like true invisibility, dragons who could lull their prey into a trancelike state and even others who could channel lightning itself.
None of those discoveries prepared her for the sight she'd just witnessed.
She'd been following her son through the winding tunnels – a more challenging feat than she'd expected, for the boy moved with an unnatural speed and grace – when she'd seen him trip over something and fall. She'd been about to call out and offer help when he'd suddenly ignited.
It was a strange purple fire that seemed to catch from under his skin, smoldering away at his form with a violent intensity. She'd been horrified, watching as her son was devoured by the hungry flames while she stood powerless to help.
The blaze did not last long, flickering out in a matter of minutes. She'd tried to brace herself mentally for the sight of a charred body, but instead found herself gasping at what was revealed. Hiccup had disappeared completely – there was no ash, no bone, no sign of injury.
In the spot where he'd lay, the Night Fury was slowly rising to his feet.
Valka stepped forward, anxiously scanning the tunnel for signs of her son. A boy didn't just vanish.
Her boot knocked against something, the item making a clanking noise as it tipped over. Looking down, she noted that it appeared to be some sort of metal prosthetic leg – fitted with an odd spring coil mechanism likely to give it more maneuverability than the traditional peg leg.
How had it gotten into the nest? The only other person who'd been inside had been–
Hiccup!
Cursing herself for her distraction, she turned her sights back on the tunnel ahead. The Night Fury had spun around, repeatedly glancing between her and the metal leg with wide eyes.
Without breaking eye contact, she lowered herself to the ground, retrieving the prosthetic. The dragon growled, apparently unhappy with her action. He took a step towards her, sliding a bit on the slick floor.
Valka's eyes caught on the dragon's blunted limb – a missing left hind leg. She glanced down at the prosthetic, a strange suspicion taking root. Indeed, it was designed to replace a left leg. The base wasn't too wide, meaning the wearer likely had thin legs.
Hiccup had been awfully lanky.
She glanced back up at the dragon, searching the Night Fury's eyes for confirmation. It was a wild theory, but she'd long since ruled out anything as impossible.
Hiccup had disappeared in a blaze of purple fire. This dragon had appeared just as suddenly.
Both appeared to be missing the same limb.
"Hiccup?" She asked aloud, when it became clear she'd need to prompt him.
The Night Fury sighed, posture slumping. He bobbed his head in a slow nod, not meeting her eyes. Instead, he turned, reaching down to retrieve a bag in his teeth.
Hiccup's bag.
"Incredible," said Valka, excitement leaking into her voice. She moved closer, circling the Night Fury with wide eyes. Her gaze roamed over her as she walked, not stopping until she was in front of him once more.
He dropped the bag at his feet, reaching out and gripping the prosthetic in his teeth. Valka had forgotten she was holding it, releasing her grip and allowing him to take it. The Night Fury – Hiccup! – gently maneuvered it into his bag, using his teeth to pull the flap of it closed once more.
"My son is a dragon," she whispered, tone laced with wonder.
Hiccup didn't meet her eyes, instead shrinking in on himself. His wings tightened against his back, head dipping low. It was clearly a defensive posture…but why? Was he ashamed?
Valka stepped closer, reaching out a hand hesitantly. "Is it alright if I…?"
She'd never seen a dragon shrug before, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. After gaining his approval she moved forward, reaching out to gently cup the side of his face. She rubbed her thumb in slow circles, hoping the motion was comforting.
"Incredible," she said with a small smile. "To change one's shape so entirely…I never imagined such a thing was possible! You can change between your two forms at will?"
Hiccup snorted, shaking his head roughly. He leaned over, using a claw to scrawl out a rough circle surrounded by branching lines.
A sun?
He then scratched out a semi-circle that was much harder to identify. If she were to hazard a guess, based on the previous illustration, it might have been a crescent moon.
He gestured to the sun and then to himself, flaring his wings behind him for emphasis. He then gestured to the moon before motioning to his bag on the floor.
After repeating the motions again, Valka understood.
"You are bound by the sun and moon," she guessed, seeing him nod in confirmation. "In the day you are a dragon, and at night you are human?"
Another nod.
"Amazing," she said, rocking back on her heels in excitement.
Hiccup looked startled for a moment before narrowing his eyes.
"In my time here, I've always felt a kinship with the dragons," she continued, "that this was where I belonged…that my very soul was more in tune with them. But you…you truly have the soul of a dragon! What a gift you've been given."
Hiccup scoffed, eyeing her like she was crazy. She supposed, considering his upbringing in Berk, he may not see how much he'd be blessed.
"The stories you must have!" She shook her head wistfully, "I can't begin to imagine…and what it must be like to see through a dragon's eyes? To be able to fly!? What I'd give for that kind of freedom…"
Valka leaned down, retrieving the bag and throwing the strap over her shoulder. The full weight of it reminded her that he hadn't intended to stay, dampening her elation.
"I've disappointed you, Hiccup. There's nothing that I can say that will erase our history, and I know that," she said, eyes pleading, "but our future doesn't have to be that way. You must have come to this place for a reason – whatever it was you were after, please let me help! At the very least…stay until tonight, let's talk about all this. Give me…give me another chance to be the mother you deserved."
A wave of emotions raged in his eyes and for a few tense moments, Valka feared he'd refuse. Then, to her astonishment, he dipped his head in agreement.