14 years after the separation of the Berkians and their dragons, Hiccup seeks a rare opportunity to find new allies among the more hospitable tribes of their region. Trouble stirs when Toothless pays an unexpected visit and Hiccup must struggle to keep his presence hidden and prevent a disastrous diplomatic conflict.

Takes place following the ending of HTTYD 3. 14 years have passed and conflicts with other factions have settled enough that Hiccup has allowed occasional visits between dragons and their riders. Every now and then, Toothless will fly in late at night (so that he will be safe from being seen thanks to the black skies) and pay Hiccup a brief visit for tail maintenance and for friendship. The chief seeks a chance to establish a more permanent peace with the neighbors of New Berk, but he is not yet confident enough to reveal the secret of the Hidden World and the truth behind the disappearance of dragons.

There was a pale white blanket that cloaked the isle of New Berk. The stone paths that wound up the cliff sides and stretched towards the village center were not spared from the weather of the night before; it was winter – and the chill in the air asserted its dominion over the realm. On days like this, even the most hardened of Vikings would huddle themselves around log-fueled fires and cloak themselves in coats and blankets of fur to ward against the bone-chilling air outside. Today, however, a sense of urgent panic pushed them to ignore their traditional response, and so many made their way to those snow-covered paths and made efforts to clear them.

Zephyr was among those working alone the winding stone paths; she was young, sure, but eager to work alongside the older members of the village. Despite Hiccup's efforts to contain them both, it seemed that the energy of youth could not be stopped by even the most determined parent. And so, following Astrid's convincing and Hiccup's conceding, the two younglings were allowed out to help (on the condition that they both wore as many layers of fur as the chief could find). The girl glanced around while sweeping off the path with a straw-forged broom, trying to locate her brother among the roughly dozen others nearby. She couldn't find him. His location was revealed, however, when a snowball struck Zephyr on her back, startling her. She turned, catching a glimpse of Nuffink – who was bearing a mischievous grin – and dropped the broom in an effort to retaliate. The other villagers paused as well, watching to see what would happen next. Zephyr's snowball flew off towards its mark, but Nuffink rolled in an evasive effort and managed to dodge it. He threw a shot back, striking not his sister but instead the innocent bystander to her left. Of course, the missed attack resulted in a chain reaction that ended with most everyone abandoning the boring sweeping and instead engaging in snow-based warfare – every man and woman for themselves. It was predictable, perhaps. When there was peace among them, the Vikings often found themselves searching for any way to resolve their natural urge for combat and competition. As Hiccup often said, if they didn't have an enemy to fight, they turned to fight among themselves. Better, then, for the fight to be only with snowballs rather than axes. But, then again, perhaps the battle told more of the high morale and the lighthearted sentiment of the village than of the desire for war. Times were good by almost any measure; even the frosty winds couldn't take away the overwhelming sense of peace and prosperity under Hiccup's guiding hand. And so the villagers forgot their task (if only for a moment) and joined the younger ones in enjoying the advantages of the sometimes brutal winters.

Up a distance from there was the great hall – a mixture of stone and log that served as the community's center. In there, the denizens of New Berk did everything from serious discussion to lighthearted drinking and banter. In a short time, in fact, they would gather inside on Snoggletog night and laugh and make merry with each other in celebration of whatever they could find to be happy about. Today, however, the walls were not decorated with seasonal attire – nor was the air filled with merry laughs and conversations. Hiccup oversaw the operations: the hall was being prepped for a grand meeting between representatives of every tribe that Hiccup could convince to attend. There were many preparations to make, all of them listed out in the chief's notebook. It was his job, then, to relay his intentions to all those working to implement them.

"Chief, the firewood you called for is outback. Did you wanna check it or-?" Hiccup waved his hand, cutting off the speaker before he could finish.
"No, no. I believe you. I just need to get this stupid thing to come loose." Hiccup at last succeeded in prying off the metal hinge on the wooden door that he was working on. It had been creaking for weeks, and the chief had decided that such a thing would send a bad impression about the state of New Berk. After his success, he looked up to finally take notice of who had spoken to him.

"Oh, oh thanks Eret. Sorry, didn't mean to be rude." Eret shrugged, indicating that he took no offense.

"Ya know," he started, "you might want to catch some sleep before the chiefs get here. You look like you're near death." Hiccup chuckled at that.

"I'm fine, you know me. I couldn't sleep if I tried. All the snowstorms pushed all of our prep work back to the absolute last minute – go figure. I can't look that bad, right?"

"Well…" Hiccup glared at him a bit, and Eret decided to just leave him to his work.

"Oh, one thing," Eret remembered, "Astrid sailed east to try and buy some sort of oil, she said. Wanted me to tell you."

"Oil?" Hiccup though for a moment. "Oh, right. That's for me; I didn't figure she would head out for it. Guess she wanted some reason to be off this island while it's in chaos, huh?"

"Guess so. Like I said, the firewood is piled up outside if you decide to have a look." Hiccup thanked Eret again before beginning the process of installing the new hinge.

It was nearly sunset when the Berkians had finished all of the preparations to Hiccup's satisfaction. Having completed their duties, they retreated into their shelters – just in time, too, as the little warmth that the sun granted vanished from the air. Hiccup was the last to leave the hall. He stepped out, swinging the door back and forth a few times to ensure that his installation has been successful, and turned his eyes to the sun setting over the horizon. He froze there – and not from the weather. His eyes caught the waterline, the rays of light shimmering off the ocean, and then…

His mind wandered. He squinted a bit, willing his eyes to look farther off to the north. He willed them to see all the way across the seas and to that huge waterfall. It was fruitless, he knew, but still he tried. And when he abandoned the goal of seeing, he imagined. He dreamed about what those great-winged beasts were doing so far away. He thought of them all – flying, eating the fish that poured down from above, watching after their children. And he thought, as he always inevitably did, about his friend. How long had it been since they had met? It was a three day journey directly north to the edge, and he made it as often as his chiefly duties permitted. During the summer months, he would bring the children and Astrid with him. In the winter, he would go with Valka or with one of the other dragon riders. Well, the once dragon riders. Hiccup remembered back to the day he had said goodbye – back then, he wasn't sure what that meant, exactly. He tried not to think about it. That night, however, when he was left in his quiet home with only the darkness and the silence as companions, he couldn't help himself. Tears came as readily as his thoughts. It wasn't the type of mournful crying that came after his father's death – this was different. It was the kind that comes from uncertainty, from fear, from doubt. It was like mourning he had seen from those who waited for a ship to return with friends or family on board, only for the return to never occur. It was an uncertain mourning; it was experiencing the loss of death for someone who may still be alive.

That was what he felt. He believed then, that he would see his friend again. Of course he would – they had stood against the world, what could keep them apart? But the more he thought, the more the silence creeped its way into his heart and convinced him that the lonely state of the night would last an eternity, the more Hiccup doubted. And, of course, the more he doubted, the more impossible it became for him to sleep. The vicious cycle raged on to the point of becoming unbearable and Hiccup threw off his blanket and stood up from his bed. He staggered outside and stepped into the grass and dirt. The moonlight struck him, painting the world in a gentle shade of gray. There were crickets chirping in the night – Hiccup thanked the gods for them. The sound gave him something to process, something to think about beyond the doubts and the fears and the mourning for another that was still alive and well. He walked along his usual path towards what the village had marked as its center. He focused on the clank of his metal leg against the ground, on the chirps of crickets hiding just out of sight, on anything at all that was certain and unchanging. Before he realized, he had stepped all the way to the front of the great hall – which was, at that time, nothing more than a stone foundation and the beginnings of walls. He stopped there for a moment, directing his thoughts to the building. He imagined the way it would come together – that was Hiccup's favorite thing, imagining the process of assembly. It made him feel powerful; as though he could shape the very world to his own. He could plan the construction and then, in good time, turn the plan into reality! And with the people of Berk so determined to rebuild their home, it would take almost no time at all! And if they had dragons to help, he could only imagine the speed of construction!

Dragons…

He scolded himself. He knew better than to think that way, but it was too late. The tears came again, silently rolling down his face. He stood there, back against the sea, eyes staring at the unfinished building and clouded with his crying, and was lost once again in his thoughts. He could have stayed there the entire night, easily. He had forgone sleep for much less before. Perhaps he would have, if he didn't feel a light punch hit his shoulder. He jumped a bit – not from the impact, but the surprise – and turned to face his assailant.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" He shook his head, stepping closer to her.

"You too?" he asked. Astrid almost laughed a bit in response.

"Not a chance. I figured that if I was up there's no way you wouldn't be."

"That's fair, I guess. You know me too well." Hiccup struggled to keep his voice steady as he still couldn't stop himself from crying. He looked over at Astrid, and saw her in the same state as him. He pulled her close after seeing that and the two held each other in silence – except, of course, for the gentle calls of the crickets. Eventually, Astrid turned away from the great hall and towards the ocean. Hiccup turned with her and joined her in watching the gray light tint the oceans in the same fashion as it did the land. There were no words spoken after that; perhaps there was nothing to be said, or perhaps there was merely nothing that either of them wanted to say.

A gentle punch hit Hiccup's left arm from the side and he snapped back to the world where it was sun rather than moon that reflected off of the water. He turned, jarred, and made the realization that Astrid was here – and not merely in his thoughts.

"Hey, you're back." Astrid pulled him close by his shirt and kissed him on his cheek.

"Yeah, and I found what you needed, too." She raised her arm, showing off the small pot, its top covered in a cloth to prevent spills.

"Thank you, milady." Hiccup grabbed the container from her as he spoke, stepping behind her and wrapping an arm around her in one fluid motion. They both turned themselves towards the docks on the eastern shore, observing their emptiness.

"Are we ready?" she asked. "The chiefs all get here tonight, right?"

"I- I sure hope so. A few of them might not be here until morning, but I think tonight is the plan."

"So when are you going to work on the…" she pointed to the container and Hiccup inferred her question from that.

"Oh, oh probably not until this whole thing is over with. I told you I didn't need it today, you know."

"I know, but I- well, I didn't really want to be here in all the chaos, if I'm being honest. I figured I would probably just be distracting you anyway."

"Oh come on," Hiccup joked, "am I that intolerable when things get a little stressful?"

"It's not that, Hiccup. It's just that… oh, you shaved!" Hiccup rubbed his face, reminding himself.

"Yeah, yeah I did."

"Any reason why?" she asked him. Hiccup shrugged.

"I just felt like it, I guess. No real reason for it." Astrid didn't question further. She didn't mind either way, in truth.

"You know," she started, "this is a big deal. Like, really big. I'm even a little worried."

"Trust me, Astrid, I know. It's all I can think about right now." Hiccup raised his eyes towards the sunset, looking off into the distance.

"This could be the start of- never mind. You know what I mean." Hiccup nodded at that, and she joined him in watching the sun sink below the horizon line.

It was well into the night when the chiefs made their appearance. Fortunately for their sake, Hiccup had planned for such an occurrence and ensured proper torch lighting all along the dock. It was bitter cold, however, and no amount of torches could do much about that. Between the winter chill and the long journey behind them, New Berk's cast of visitors were more than happy to make their way into the various buildings set aside for their housing. Hiccup was at the docks the whole while, greeting them with a mixture of warmth and seriousness and trying not to seem too eager to have them here. Astrid was right, he knew, it was essential that this went well. If it did, it could change their world. If it went poorly, there may never be another chance.

Once the greetings were made and the visitors were housed – there were a dozen of them, at least – Hiccup made his way up the hill and past the great hall. He stepped along the stones of the path and tried to use his coat to shield his face from the winds of the night. And then, upon reaching the door of his home, he stepped in to a greeting of air warmed by the fire. The main room was empty, which told Hiccup that Astrid had already gone to bed. He glanced over towards a table at that jar of oil Astrid had brought home. He took a few steps up the stairs towards the bedroom he shared with his wife before glancing back again.

In an instant he decided to postpone his sleep; before he knew it he had grabbed the jar and brought it with him into his workshop that was attached to the house on the first floor. The top of his workbench was covered with miscellaneous contraptions and pieces which he swept to the sides, placing the jar down in their place. There was an almost frenzied aspect to his movement as he gathered up a variety of supplies from every corner of the room and set them on the tabletop before standing back to check that he had what was needed.

Hiccup, after ensuring the supplies were all there, set to work. Astrid had seen him in his craft before and was amazed by the way he worked. It was satisfying to see as the chief measured and marked, sliced and attached, and turned the mere supplies into whatever contraption his mind had thought up.

Tonight, however, was a recreation of a previous invention – the third edition, in fact.

After his initial whirlwind, Hiccup slowed down to perform the precise bits of the project; the things that required a steady hand and a careful nature. He had a thread stuck into the edge of the project and he carefully brought it around, sewing together two pieces of leather. The needle moved slowly and precisely, as thought it was stitching an open wound.

It was a good thing that Hiccup was not treating an injury, however, because the loud crash from outside startled him into tearing the leather in his hands.

He dropped what he was doing in an instant and rushed out the front door in search of the cause. As he squinted out into the night, he spotted a large figure standing up from the ground. And then, ever so barely, he was able to make out a pair of big green eyes in the darkness.

The second and final chapter will be uploaded soon. Thanks for reading, and please review! Feedback is what helps me improve and what makes me want to keep writing!