Hiccup's Perspective
The arena hadn't recovered yet from the last shock.
Freya clinging to my chest.
Calling me papa loud enough for all of Berk to hear.
Their stunned silence stretching out like a thread ready to snap.
Perfect.
And yet... she wasn't done.
Not even close.
I looked down at her, still nestled comfortably in my arms, her eyes alight with playful fire and dangerous joy.
"My little Valkyrie," I said softly, my voice just loud enough for her — and anyone listening too closely — to hear. "Since you made such a dramatic entrance... I figure you've earned a request."
I tilted my head, watching her closely. "So. What do you want?"
She blinked once, as if she hadn't expected to be asked.
Then that familiar glint sparked in her eyes.
She looked at the Zippleback still prowling the arena — coiling around Snotlout and pretending to snap at Ruffnut's boot — and gave the most innocent smile she could manage.
"Can I... play with it?"
Even the dragon paused.
The entire arena stilled again — as if Berk itself was holding its breath.
A child.
Asking to play.
With that.
Astrid moved before anyone else could. Her hand twitched toward her axe as she rose just slightly from her seat on the edge of the arena wall — like she was preparing to leap down. To defend. To shield.
Cute.
She thought my daughter needed protection.
From my own dragon.
I didn't react outwardly. But I noted the way her eyes followed Freya with something... conflicted. Protective. Even admiring.
She doesn't know who you belong to yet, I thought with faint amusement. But she will.
I looked back down at my Valkyrie.
"If you're asking me," I said aloud, smiling faintly, "then yes. Go play."
I set her down gently, brushing the hair from her face.
She turned and skipped — actually skipped — toward the Zippleback with all the poise of someone who owned the arena.
The dragon paused, both heads turning toward her.
They looked at her.
Then at me.
Then back at her.
A low rumble echoed from deep in their chest, not hostile — recognition.
The left head lowered slowly. The right followed. Both necks curved forward until they were eye-level with Freya.
And then they bowed.
Not just politely.
They bowed like servants to a princess.
Good, I thought. They understand.
Freya burst into delighted laughter, hands over her mouth as she watched the enormous twin heads lean before her. Then, with care far beyond their size, the Zippleback reached down and gently scooped her up with both necks, placing her atop the center of their back like a crown.
She wobbled once, then steadied herself, legs swinging on either side of their thick spine.
"Higher than I thought!" she called out with a laugh.
She beamed. Actually beamed.
And then—
"CHARGE!"
Her voice rang out like a war cry, filled with gleeful command only a child with too much power and too little fear could summon.
The Zippleback roared in unison and leapt forward, gleefully obeying.
They dove back into the arena, circling the teens with mischievous hisses, tails flicking, smoke curling from their mouths like a pair of prank-loving serpents.
Snotlout screamed. Tuffnut tripped over Ruffnut. Fishlegs froze in place like a terrified snowman.
Freya rode them like a queen on a royal steed, her arms spread wide in joy, laughter echoing against the stone walls.
I just watched.
Smiling.
Shaking my head slowly.
"So much flair," I muttered to myself.
"She really is mine." I said as I chuckled under my breath.
As Freya's laughter still echoed across the arena, twined with the delighted screeches of the Zippleback as they ran circles around the terrified teens.
It was chaos.
Perfect, glorious chaos.
And it was mine.
I raised my eyes toward the top platform where Gobber stood, his hands clenched around the release lever for the next cage.
Time to raise the stakes.
My voice rang out across the stone.
"Release the Nadder."
Gobber didn't move.
Not at first.
He just stared at me — mouth slightly open, eyes narrowed with something raw behind them. Not just confusion now.
Pain.
"Gobber."
Nothing.
"Release the Nadder."
His hand twitched.
Then he turned — slowly — and looked at me like he didn't recognize me at all.
"You..." he rasped. "You've got a child now. You claimed her. You let that dragon carry her like some wild beast's prize — and now you want me to release another one? The same one you nearly killed a week ago?"
I raised an eyebrow.
So it was finally happening.
"You saw what I did with the Zippleback," I said calmly. "You know she won't attack. Not without reason."
He took a shaky step forward, fists clenched at his sides. His voice cracked with more than fury — grief.
"I don't know anything anymore, Hiccup."
That name came out of his mouth like it didn't belong to me.
"You... you claim a daughter in front of all of Berk. You've got dragons bowing to you. You treat this whole village like it's beneath you. And it's not just that — it's the way you do it."
I stared back without a flicker of remorse.
"Because it is beneath me," I said evenly.
He flinched like I'd slapped him.
"You're not the boy I helped raise," he whispered.
"No," I said, stepping forward. "That boy died the day Berk decided he wasn't worth protecting. I'm what you all created, Gobber. You just didn't expect me to survive."
He said nothing.
The wind caught his braid. His shoulders slumped. The weight of years in his spine.
"I wanted to believe you still had some of that boy left in you," he muttered. "But now you've got claws. Wings. Power. You don't look at people anymore, Hiccup. You look through them."
I gave a faint smirk.
"Isn't it funny? When I was weak, no one looked at me at all. Now that you see me — really see me — suddenly I'm the monster."
I let the words hang.
Then I raised my voice again.
"Release the Nadder."
Gobber looked down at the lever, then back at me.
And though he hated it...
He pulled it.