A/N: I know, the title sucks. I can't do titles.

Oh my god. I've been on a bus now for nearly seven hours now. I'm amazed at how productive I can be when given the time.

Anyway, just a ROTG and HTTYD crossover. I'll have a longer author's note at the end for those of you who care.

Disclaimer: Haibanashi does not own Rise of the Guardians, How to Train Your Dragon, or any of its characters (though I wish I did). Haibanashi makes no profit off of this story.

Warnings: A little vague and nondescript. Some swearing/cursing.

Let's go!

A faint rustle of wind. The stirring of crisp leaves.

A groan was sounded by a lone figure's throat, the guttural noise coming from the back of his throat as his mind fought against the torrents that were currently making up the inside of his skull.

A few moments later, bright amber eyes blinked open.

Fiery orbs examined the surrounding area. Branches of trees swayed gently in the breeze. Sunlight filtered through leaves of red and brown, a few stray streaks reaching the ground. No signs of any other life. Slender fingers curled into the soft grass that lay beneath. Taking in and then releasing a deep breath, limbs curled and twisted before they straightened out, legs standing strong and arms held casually yet ready for use.

A sigh escaped into the crisp air as the figure carded a hand through auburn hair. Great, he didn't recognize anything around him whatsoever. That was just fantastic. How had he even gotten there in the first place for that matter? He couldn't recall. Not that it was important. He just needed to figure out exactly how to get home.

Thin brows furrowed. The feeling the word brought seemed… wrong. The sense of warmth and safety normally connoted with it was there but not the memories or the faces that caused it. Why couldn't he remember what his home was like?

A cold stone started to settle in his stomach, face paling and eyes widening. He tried reaching into the farthest corners of his mind, searching for memories.

He couldn't quite tell how much time had passed before his shoulders slumped. There was no other way around it; he couldn't clearly recall anything about himself. Not his family, where he lived, how old he was, anything. Even his own name was stripped from him.

But, a rational voice whispered, you still know how to form words and what things are. You can find out everything along the way.

He nodded to himself. He had heard of people losing their memories before. Amnesia, he believed it was called. Still, the fact that he couldn't remember how or why or where he had learned it was definitely unnerving.

So he probably had amnesia. His memories would likely come back to him with time and there wasn't anything he could do about it to speed it up.

He swallowed. He couldn't just stand there with nothing but his thoughts or else he would drive himself insane. He needed something that he could do.

He made his first priority to find out where he was. And after step one he'd figure out how to get to… well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

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An island. He was on an island.

His jaw clenched in thought as he scanned where the vast expanse of water met the equally vast sky. Nothing. He had been walking around the small mass of land for more than three hours now, the sun only just reaching the peak of its ascension at that moment. The island was small, maybe four miles in diameter, with thick, red/orange/brown/yellow foliage in the middle and short beaches of silky white sand separating it from the ocean.

What a way to go, stranded on a deserted island with no memories and no way to get off.

The boy sighed for the umpteenth time since he had awoken. Maybe he should scout the rest of the island, seeing as he had only gone around the perimeter. Who knew, there could be plants that wouldn't kill him and animals to hunt hiding in the undergrowth. It would most likely do little than prolong the inevitable but it was all that he had at the moment.

.:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:..:*~*:.

The sun was setting now. And so was his mood.

There had been no indication of life of any kind save for himself and the plants. But even with that (the plants, that is) there weren't any that were edible.

He was doomed to die, it seemed.

Questions raced through his mind, hands weaving through his hair. What had he done to deserve this? Was this some kind of sick, twisted joke? Why was it him? Why had it even happened in the first place?

Without any conscious decision, he screamed.

The moment his voice made contact with the relatively still air the winds around him took on a brutal mission, tearing at anything and everything that crossed their paths, mercilessly whipping at tree branches and snatching up stray leaves. It was only a few moments later that he realized that he felt nothing save for the gentle tug of his hair. But that was it; no squinting to stop the harsh gusts from stinging his eyes, no cold biting into his skin. The same gentle breeze from earlier seemed to be happening around only him.

And as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

He blinked in surprise. He would have thought that he had imagined it if not for the broken bits of twigs and the slow, rocking descent of leaves back to the ground. The event had been odd and intriguing, but he had much bigger things to worry about than a strange wind phenomenon.

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A week. It had been a week since he had woken up on the strange island. And he knew that things were really wrong. Well, maybe wrong wasn't the right word for it, but things were most certainly not normal.

In his one week on the island, he hadn't eaten at all. Yet he wasn't hungry. Not even the slightest of pains ached in his stomach. Yeah, sure, he was pretty scrawny, but there was no one who couldn't eat for seven days without feeling something.

And then there was the wind and the rain. It was… confusing. Or he was just going crazy. Although his masculine pride didn't like to acknowledge it, he had cried during his second day at the sheer hopelessness of it all. But that wasn't what was odd. What was downright bizarre was when it started to rain at the exact moment the first tear had fallen and when it had stopped just as he finished wiping his eyes. And the strangest thing was that his clothes hadn't even gotten wet. The only evidence had been a slight dampness to his hair. And the wind seemed to have a field day whenever he was angry or upset.

The strange happenings led him to what he was about to try now. He was just thankful that no one was there to further mock his dignity for trying.

He closed his eyes in concentration and did everything he could to channel his focus onto the air. He felt a faint tug at his clothes and hair. Fists clenching, he tried to command the wind to lift him into the air.

His eyes shot open when he felt his feet leave the ground. Concentration effectively broken, the currents of air under him ceased and he made the short fall to the ground.

There was dull ache coursing through his back, but it barely registered over the pounding of his heart and the roar in his mind. He may not have his memories, but having control over the wind (and rain if he continued on this track) was not something that anyone could do.

Gods, what was wrong with him?

No. No, not wrong. Having powers wasn't wrong. But it only added to the amount of unknowns that already existed.

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Two weeks now. It was amazing what someone could accomplish when they had absolutely nothing to interact with.

He had almost complete control over the wind when he called upon it. He could easily zip around the island with only the air to carry him. Even though the ability still felt daunting, he couldn't deny that the experience of flying was one that he had quickly come to love. And the wind wasn't limited to just flying either. He could whip up strong gales to create huge surges in the water surrounding the island by this point. And, even more astonishing, he could feel the wind. Well, not feel per se. It was like he could just tell when the wind moved around something and from that he was able to determine the shape of objects. And he did, in fact have control over the rain. Granted, it didn't come as easily, but it was undeniably there.

He still hadn't eaten, but he figured that it probably had something to do with his newfound powers. Or it just came along with them.

He was going to try to get back to the mainland today. He had… sent out winds, he supposed, to scout as far as they could and had gotten surprisingly good results. There seemed to be a formidably sized mass of land maybe a three-hour flight south of his island.

Taking in the beautiful scenery one last time, he finally turned his back and shot into the air.

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Standing on solid ground felt a bit discombobulating after being in the air for so long, almost like getting on and off of a boat, just without the seasickness.

Not that he could remember what boat he had been in. He just knew the feeling.

A grin slowly began to consume his face, his cheeks hurting from the intensity. Even the grim reminder of his unknown past couldn't deter him now. He would find people. He would get a proper meal (even though it didn't appear his body needed one) and actually talk to another person. Maybe he'd even be able to shed the worn brown vest that he wore for something else, though he did like the furry collar.

He scanned the skyline quickly and instantly spotted a rising plume of smoke. Where there was smoke there was a fire and where there was a fire there were sure to be people.

He broke out into a sprint before his mind fully caught up to him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind was a whispering voice, wondering why he didn't feel the burn of his legs as they pumped against the ground or why he didn't feel the need to gasp for air to fill his lungs. His almost musings were easily dismissed with the reasoning that odder things had happened in his short time of being awake.

He broke through the last line of trees and finally — finally — he saw a few small clusters of houses, smoke billowing out of some of the chimneys. Several people were outside, walking about as children scurried underfoot.

He stifled a huge sigh of relief as he approached the nearest person, a man that was well into adulthood but not old enough to be considered an elder.

"Excuse me," he said. His voice, despite its lack of usage, didn't sound rusty or scratchy or anything. "Do you think that you could please help me?"

There was no response. Not even a flick of eyes in his direction.

The boy swallowed. "Um, well, you see — "

The older man moved in his direction. The boy effectively cut himself off as he hastily stepped backwards to maintain the distance between them. The man stepped again and the rotten bastard was just going to run into him, wasn't he?

Another step and the boy gasped.

The man had — he had —

The boy's legs gave out as his knees hit thee ground.

The man had walked straight through him.

He gasped again out of pure shock.

He had been walked right through, only registering the disturbing feeling of another being occupying the exact same space as him. The man hadn't felt him, hadn't heard him, hadn't even realized that he was there. It was like… like…

Like he didn't even exist.

And for the second time since he had awoken alone on the island, he cried, his broken sobs only reaching his own ears as he broke down in the small, oblivious village.

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He should be bitter. He really ought to be. He has every right to be. But he's not.

He sighs into autumn air as he rests his cheek into his hand, nestled in the branches of a lone tree, high above the ground.

Three thousand six hundred fifty-two days. Five hundred sixty weeks. One hundred years.

For an entire century he has aimlessly wandered the Earth, unseen and unnoticed. His entire existence is lost on the world around him, save for the wind and the rain.

What a useless life.

He sighs again. His memories still haven't returned and he's accepted that it will probably stay like this forever. And yet hope still twinges in his chest when something seems almost familiar or plays at the chords of recognition in his mind.

Sliding from his perch, he lands on the ground with both feet and strikes up a warm breeze to accompany the clear night. He himself can't feel it, but he knows that those wondering about will appreciate it.

He cranes his head up to gaze upon the moon. It's full tonight, silver light dancing on everything it touches. It's one of the few constants that he's come to love over his seemingly immortal life. Some nights he's even taken to talking to it, just to fill the silence. It's not much but it makes him feel less alone, if only for a little while.

Good evening.

His eyes narrow. He's held conversations with himself before due to his lack of company but the voice in his head is unfamiliar.

He shakes his head to try and clear it.

No need for that. I wish to talk to you. The words in his mind are accompanied with small chuckles.

His eyebrows rise steadily as his mouth pops open. Oh gods, he was going insane now, wasn't he?

Not insane, my child. Your mind in perfectly fit.

"Fuck," he hisses out. Now he was trying to convince himself that he hadn't lost his marble.

You're quite the worrier, aren't you?

Teeth clench. He's not surprised at himself for going crazy in all honesty. Being entirely alone for a century while still being constantly surrounded seemed to have finally taken its toll. He can feel the voice getting ready to speak up again but he cuts it off. He'll humor himself for some time.

Okay, let's say I'm not insane, he thinks snarkily, who are you?

An ally.

Oh, way to be as clear as possible.

More chuckles. You've got bite, eh?

Look, if you're just going to mock me, then go away.

But then how would I tell you your name?

He froze, his heart skipping a beat.

My… my name?

Yes.

How?

… that is for another time.

… who are you, at least?

Call me the Man in the Moon. As for your identity, you are called Hiccup Leif. We will talk again, my child, when you are ready.

And just like that, the voice and the presence it belonged to disappeared.

The boy — Hiccup — stared dazedly at the moon.

Hiccup. His name was Hiccup Leif. Somehow the name just… it felt right. It couldn't have been a figment of his imagination or a trick of light (or sound — whatever).

He pulled his shoulders back and squared his jaw. It wasn't much, but it was something.

He had his name.

For the first time in a long time, Hiccup felt a grin stretch across his face.

A/N: And that's all she wrote. For now.

I felt like that last part with Manny was really forced but I couldn't think of another way of communication besides telepathy.

So, things about this.

I'm having Hiccup's last name be Leif when he's a Guardian (and yes, he is/will be). This is because Leif has Norse/Viking origins and it sounds like leaf (you know, this things that change color and fall in autumn?). Jack's last name changed so I deemed it appropriate that Hiccup's should too.

As for the wind, Hiccup has control over that and the rain. And it's not entirely clear, but Hiccup has a bit of an echolocation-ish thing going in with the winds. He knows the temperature, speed, and direction of air currents so he can tell where there are objects as their shape and movement.

And yes, I changed Hiccup's appearance slightly. He's pretty much the same except his leg is back, his eyes are fiery amber instead of green, and his hair is tinted red (it's still pretty brown, there's just a bit more red/orange. Auburn). He's wearing the same clothes as he did in the first movie.

The rest of the Guardians will be introduced. Eventually. I'll add on characters as they appear. Jack's definitely going to have a major part in this.

I fell in love with this crossover when a friend of mine told me about Hijack (and yes, I ship it). I liked it immediately (so much snark X3) and then found out about the awesome idea of Hiccup as a Guardian. So yeah, a bit of background for you.

I aplogize for any typos. Let me know if you find them.

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