The Rebirth Of A Dragon

Hiccup's Point of View

⸻

The wind carried no storm, no snow—just silence. But not peace.

Never peace.

Astrid stood beside me. Luna stepped behind us, tall and still in her true form—Night Fury, goddess, and my mate. Her presence didn't just fill the space behind me, it commanded it. And every eye in Berk trembled beneath her shadow.

Then, without a sound, she stepped forward.

Her movements were graceful, gliding like a shadow stretching across a dying fire. She slipped between Astrid and me, her wings unfurling just enough to brush against us both. It wasn't a gesture of threat.

It was a vow.

A territorial, possessive claim.

She stood before us, eyes glowing emerald, tail slowly curling with precision and intent. Her head turned slightly, scanning the silent, breathless warriors. And still... she said nothing.

But everything in her posture screamed:

These are mine.

That was when Stoick snapped.

His hand twitched—an instinct burned into his bones by decades of fear and iron. His fingers closed around the handle of his axe.

And I smiled.

Not kindly.

"Please," I said softly, voice laced with venom, "give me a reason to paint this place with whatever is left of you once I'm done."

The wind didn't move. The crowd didn't breathe. Stoick froze, his body caught between fury and something deeper—fear.

He hadn't heard me speak like that since the arena.

And he knew I meant every word.

Luna didn't growl. She didn't bare her fangs or snap her tail. Instead... she purred.

Then she turned.

To Astrid.

And kissed her.

Not a nuzzle. Not an animal's affection. A kiss. Intentional. Slow. Loving.

Her snout brushed Astrid's lips, tongue flicking gently along her mouth, savoring the taste.

And Astrid?

She kissed her back.

No hesitation. No fear.

She tilted her head slightly, placed one hand on Luna's jaw, and met her fully. The bond between them, the trust, the intimacy—it was real.

And then Luna turned to me.

She looked into my eyes with that fire that only I knew. The wild, endless flame behind the emerald. And then she kissed me.

Her breath warmed my face. Her tongue traced my lips. I pressed into her kiss with the hunger of a starved king claiming his crown.

I felt her teeth graze my jaw—and I smiled into it.

And that's when it happened.

"I love you both. I don't care what you look like. You're perfect."

I froze.

So did Luna.

We hadn't heard her voice out loud.

We'd heard it inside.

The bond.

Luna pulled back slightly, stunned. Her head turned toward me in disbelief, her wings flexing involuntarily.

Did you hear that? she asked.

Clear as breath, I answered.

Our eyes turned to Astrid together.

She blinked rapidly, clearly disoriented. Her body shook slightly—not with fear, but realization. Her lips parted.

"I... heard you?"

The voice wasn't aloud.

It was in the bond.

She'd responded.

Luna let out a soft, euphoric purr through the link. Her wings curled tighter around us both. Her eyes shimmered with ancient, primal joy.

"Ours," she said.

I felt something bloom in my chest. A warmth. A pull. A belonging.

"Welcome," I whispered into Astrid's mind. "You're finally home."

Astrid's eyes brimmed with overwhelming joy. She raised her hand again, touching Luna's face with reverence.

"It's warm," she whispered. "I can feel everything... you, her... it's all... us."

"It always was," Luna replied.

The bond was complete.

Three hearts.

One flame.

Then came movement.

Stoick—again.

His body tensed, hand gripping his weapon—not in fear this time, but disgust. Rage. He looked at the kiss. At the dragon. At Astrid's gentle hand resting on Luna's snout.

It shattered him.

He began to draw his axe.

And that's when Stormfly acted.

A hiss. A click. A blur of barbs.

She launched a spread of spines directly at Stoick's feet—one striking near his boot, another slicing his cloak at the collar, a third embedding into the stone near his head.

He was surrounded. Trapped.

Not injured.

But humiliated.

Stormfly didn't roar.

She laughed.

A low, guttural sound that spoke of loyalty and warning.

Astrid raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I didn't tell her to stop," she said softly through the bond.

Stoick snapped.

"You betrayed Berk!" he roared at me. "You betrayed your blood! You could've risen above their hate—but instead, you let it consume you!"

I stared.

"You think this is strength?! It's spite! You kiss the very kind that took your mother from us. From me! You ride them! Defend them! Love them!"

His hands trembled.

"You wear their armor. Speak in their tongue. Bare your claws at your own kin. You hate us. That's why you came back!"

His eyes narrowed.

"You wanted vengeance. You wanted us to suffer."

And then the final strike:

"What would Luna think—seeing you kiss a godsdamned dragon?"

I laughed.

A low, feral sound.

"She wouldn't mind."

I stepped forward.

"She's my second wife."

He staggered.

"And you're wrong," I said darkly.

"The dragon you speak of? That's Artemis."

Luna tilted her head slightly, curious.

"Artemis?"

"Goddess of the hunt, the moon, and wild beasts," I answered softly. "Fitting. It's your name for when they're too stupid to see you for what you are."

She purred deeply, her mind brushing against mine in satisfaction.

I turned back to Stoick.

"She loved me before any of you ever did. When I was alone. Beaten. Cast out. She saw me."

My claws extended.

"This village made me an outcast. I made myself an Alpha."

"You clung to gods and ghosts. I forged power."

Then I growled.

"And as for Valka?"

The hatred snapped through me like lightning.

"She's nothing. Just another useless parasite. The only thing she was ever good for... was dragging me screaming into this world."

Stoick staggered again, the blow more emotional than any claw I could deliver.

But it wasn't enough.

So he turned to Astrid.

"You," he said. "You were meant to lead. To carry your name. And now? You lay with beasts. Beasts who murdered your uncle!"

Astrid froze.

The bond trembled.

He took a step forward, glaring at her.

"Your uncle died screaming and frozen in fear while you ran. He froze like a coward. And You're just like him."

Pain exploded through the bond.

Not physical. Deeper.

Astrid's breath left her. Her posture collapsed for just a moment.

I saw it.

I felt it.

And that was enough.

Because I knew the truth.

He hadn't frozen in fear.

He had been paralyzed—by the Flightmare's breath.

He died protecting Astrid.

And the village buried him in shame.

Luna's pupils became slits.

Her growl cracked the stone.

And I?

I moved.

Fast.

My claws drove forward—not for his face.

But into his shoulder—just below the collarbone, between muscle and bone.

A precise point.

Agonizing.

Crippling.

But not fatal.

He howled.

I twisted my fingers into the wound—not to kill.

To mark.

To make sure he remembered.

Always.

He stumbled backward, clutching the wound as blood poured down his chest.

Warriors didn't move.

Not one.

I stood above him.

Claws bloody. Eyes blazing.

"Say what you want about me," I growled. "I don't care about Berk. You're all insects."

"But insult my wives again..."

I flexed my clawed hand, blood dripping to the stone.

"...and I'll make sure there's nothing left of you to bury."

Luna stepped beside me, snout low, her breath steaming against Stoick's body. Astrid stood proud, her hand on her axe, her eyes glowing with cold fury.

I looked down at him—this broken, bleeding relic of a man.

"Now," I said calmly. "Do you want the location of the nest—yes or no, you disgusting parasite?"

He didn't answer.

He only bled.

And I didn't wait.