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❛ ғɪʀᴇ & ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚    ▎❛ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜    ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ɪᴛ ʙᴇɢɪɴs. . . ꒱


❝ YOU'VE GOT MORE CHANCE
 OF TAMING A WILD SKRILL
THAN GETTING ANYWHERE
WITH DANY ❞

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The sky was a bright, brilliant blue— a rarity for Berk, though much more common the farther south one went— and the sunset had been tinged with red the day before: a promise of excellent boating weather, sailors said. There was not a cloud in sight as the sun beat down on the deck of the foreign ship. Sailors called to each other in a loud, unfamiliar tongue as they carried on about their duties. Intermingled with their shouts were growls and roars from dragons, which were often hastily silenced with a whimper.

Some of the more. . . expendable crew members were given the duty of 'caring' for their cargo, which they took savage delight in. Being stuck at sea for months on end could get quite boring, after all, so one bright sailor had the idea of taunting their captives. They strung fish on long poles and poked the food through the bars of the cages, only to snatch it back before the dragon could eat it. They were often met with a blast of fire and one or more would get singed, but no one minded since it only encouraged them to put their sticks to use in other ways. As the days went by, they came up with more creative methods to tease the poor creatures so that the dragons would be nothing more than skin and bones by the time they returned to the mainland.

The sailors' laughter echoed across the ship as a group of them sneered at one of the smaller dragons, a scrawny Nadder with dull, molting scales. Its attempts to snap at the dangling fish were half-hearted now, hunger sapping its strength. The men cackled as one of their number swiped the pole back again, narrowly avoiding a retaliatory blast of flame that fizzled out before it reached the bars.

"Careful, mates," one jeered, his voice thick with an unknown accent. "This one's got more fight in it than you'd think! Maybe we should teach it some manners."

The others laughed, one reaching through the bars to jab the creature with a sharpened stick. It yelped and recoiled, and the sailor shook the stick triumphantly.

"Not so tough now, are you?"

Something seemed to shift in the air. It was subtle at first, barely a whisper of movement, but enough to make the more seasoned crew glance warily at the water. The waves lapped calmly against the hull, the wind carrying no hint of a coming storm. And yet, there it was again— a ripple of unease that no sailor could ignore.

The laughter faltered, and then stopped entirely as a vast shadow swept across the deck. It moved slowly, deliberately, and for a moment, the sailors stared blankly at one another before a voice broke the silence.

"What was that?"

A chorus of curses and muttered prayers followed as they craned their necks to look skyward. Above them, the outline of a wing— massive and dark— blotted out the light. A second followed, and then a long, muscular body. The wings alone were enormous, not even including the rest of what was unmistakably a dragon: one so vast that its size seemed impossible. Its silhouette nearly eclipsed the sun, throwing the ship into deep shade. This was no ordinary dragon.

A murmur rippled through the crew. "Could it be her?"

"No, no— just a story," someone hissed, though his voice trembled.

But another voice spoke, low and panicked: "the Breaker of Chains."

The word hung in the air like a curse. The sailors had all heard the tales, whispered in taverns and sung in shanties, of a white-haired demon riding a great beast of destruction. She was a scourge of the southern seas, a terror to merchants and slavers alike. They said she could command dragons with a word, that she tore apart ships with her bare hands, and that those who crossed her path rarely lived to tell the tale.

The dragon let out a guttural roar, the sound so deep it seemed to resonate in the bones of every man on deck. It was a warning— a promise of what was to come. The sailors scrambled, shouting orders and grabbing weapons, though their movements were disorganized and frantic. Some of the expendable crew, so bold moments ago, abandoned their posts entirely, diving below deck or clutching at the mast for some illusion of safety.

From the dragon's back, a figure emerged— small against the sky, but unmistakable. Her white-blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the dark leathers she wore. The red-and-black dragon swooped lower, allowing the men to get a better look at her face. Some of them wished they hadn't as her unusual violet eyes burned like twin flames, focused and unrelenting.

The slight girl— nay, a young woman now— slid neatly from the massive creature's back and landed on her feet with easy grace on the ship's deck. Now that she was even closer, some of them noticed odd details, like the fact that her feet were bare and the flowers she had woven into her multitude of braids. But they did not get long to register these observations as most were focused on the large, curved axe that was strapped to her back— which she was pulling free now.

Still, the men did not move; most were frozen with fear as the tales of horror they'd heard played in their heads on repeat. The young woman walked forward, each step deliberate, her bare feet soundless against the wood of the deck. The silence that fell over the ship was absolute, save for the faint creak of the rigging and the soft, rhythmic thud of her axe as she walked. Her pale hair whipped in the sea breeze, catching the sunlight in flashes like polished silver, but her face was set in stone: a mask of calm fury.

When she finally spoke, her voice carried across the deck with the weight of authority, amplified by the stillness.

"You brought this upon yourselves," she said, uncaring of whether they actually understood her or not. "You thought you could steal from the skies, chain what is wild, and sell it as if it were yours to take." Her gaze swept the cowering men, sharp as the axe she held in her hand. "But the skies do not forget. Nor do I."

She turned her attention to the rows of cages where dragons lay battered and beaten, their once-proud scales dulled by captivity. Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, the fury in her eyes threatened to consume her entirely. Then, she looked back at the sailors, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Injustice cannot be ignored," she announced. "You have wrought pain and suffering upon innocents, and for what? Profit? Sport? Today, you answer for your crimes."

The men began to back away, their courage faltering as the shadow of the massive dragon overhead seemed to grow darker. She lifted a hand, pointing toward the cages. "Drogon," she called, her voice steady and firm, "aldrnari."

The great beast roared, his jaws parting to unleash a torrent of flame. Fire engulfed the ship's deck, consuming the rigging and the pens the sailors had used to torment their captives. The heat was unbearable, the flames so bright they seemed to sear the very air. But, they were of little nuisance to the blonde or the captives as both were immune to dragon fire. However, the men were not so lucky. Their screams were deafening as they scrambled to escape the inferno.

Amid the chaos, the young woman moved with purpose, wielding her axe with precision. She hacked at the chains binding the dragons, splinters of iron flying as she worked. Each dragon she freed took to the skies with a triumphant cry, their powerful wings stirring the flames and scattering ash across the deck.

The sailors who were fortunate enough to escape the blaze by diving into the water clung to debris, their curses and cries carrying over the crackle of fire. Some whispered to each other in hushed tones, their fear palpable even from a distance.

"Breaker of Chains," one hissed, his voice trembling with hatred and terror. "She's real."

"A demon," another spat. "A white-haired witch."

The young woman did not look at them. She knelt beside a dragon whose wings were shredded from its attempts to escape, murmuring soft words as she stroked its neck. The creature's growls quieted and it gave a weak croon before she helped it to its feet.

When the last cage was empty and the dragons soared free above the smoldering wreck, she turned her gaze to the few men still clinging to the wreckage.

"Tell your masters what happened here," she said, her voice cold and clear. "Tell them this is what awaits all who dare to enslave the skies."

Then she climbed onto Drogon's back and the great dragon took to the air, surrounded by its new, loyal allies. The last thing the sailors saw was the outline of her figure against the blazing inferno: a white-haired demon riding a beast of fire and shadow, before she vanished into the sky.

🏹🏹🏹

"Well," Daenerys Targaryen— whose friends called her Dany— told Drogon cheerfully as they left the burning ship behind, "I think they got the message."

She twisted around on her massive dragon's back— he'd grown even more in the last three years— to see the small army of dragons that followed them. Nadders, Gronckles, Monstrous Nightmares— you name it, there was probably at least one representative of every known species. It was the culmination of several weeks' worth of work as she often stayed away from Berk for stretches of time. She camped out at various locations to let the dragons regain their strength for the long flight back, often amassing at least twenty or more before making the return trip.

Beneath her, the large creature rumbled in a chiding sort of way, and she rolled her eyes as she interpreted his complaint. "No, I don't think this is too many dragons, you grumpy old man. There's no such thing as too many dragons. You're just worried that they'll get in your way one of these days and you'll step on them."

Drogon snorted, which she took to mean she'd guessed his protest correctly. Despite his crankiness, she knew that he was happy to be going home— they both were. As much as she loved the constant travel and was passionate about her mission, she did miss seeing her friends and family. But, staying away from home was a necessary sacrifice, even if she did have noble reasoning behind it: the 'friends' part being the motive.

The simple fact was this: three years later and she still had a massive, embarrassing, head-over-heels crush on her best friend, Hiccup. He knew nothing about it and that was for the best; she would sooner die than let anything ruin their friendship (even if, in a way, she was already letting it.) It was just easier to. . . stay away than try and make a life for herself in Berk, around. . . him. He was the chief's son, after all; it wasn't very well that she could ask him to leave. Since she had the choice, she had taken the out when it had presented itself and that had been that.

Sure, she missed him. She missed the way things used to be, before she realized she had feelings for him: their easy friendship, the closeness that had come from the two of them bonding over being outsiders. But she would rather let distance separate them than make a fool of herself by letting her emotions get in the way.

Dany sighed and adjusted her position on Drogon's back, the wind tugging at her braids as they soared above the ocean. Behind them, the dragons she'd freed flew in a loose formation, their wings slicing through the air with ease. It was a breathtaking sight; one she might have fully appreciated if not for the tangle of feelings threatening to take up permanent residence in her chest.

Hiccup. Even thinking his name made her stomach twist in complicated knots. She clenched her fists tighter against Drogon's scales and leaned forward, resting her weight against one his great spines. He didn't grumble this time, simply releasing a low grunt of sympathy, as if he understood her thoughts without her needing to say a word.

"Don't start with me," she muttered. Drogon snorted again, but she couldn't tell if it was amusement or exasperation. "I know, I know. It's stupid to keep avoiding him. But what else am I supposed to do?"

There was no answer, of course, just the steady rush of wind in her ears and the rhythmic beat of Drogon's wings. Somewhere in the distance, she could see Berk's cliffs rising out of the sea, their jagged edges softened by the golden afternoon light. She'd be home within the hour.

Home. The word didn't make her feel as content as it once had. She loved Berk, loved her family and the life they'd built together, but it wasn't the same anymore. Not when every glance at Hiccup was a reminder of what she couldn't have.

Her mind wandered unbidden to their last conversation, months ago, before she'd left on another mission. He'd been waiting for her by the cliff, his fingers twisting together as he watched her prepare for her flight. She remembered the way his hair had caught the sunlight, how his lopsided grin had made her heart skip a beat despite her best efforts to ignore it.

"You sure you have to go again so soon?" he'd asked, his voice light but tinged with something she couldn't quite place.

She'd laughed, trying to sound casual. "You know me. I can't sit still."

He'd smiled, but there had been a flicker of something in his eyes— worry, maybe? Or disappointment? She hadn't let herself dwell on it. Instead, she'd given him a quick, playful salute before climbing onto Drogon's back and taking off into the sky. She hadn't looked back.

There was more than just Hiccup waiting for her, of course. She was excited to see her other best friend, Astrid, who held no complicated emotions for her. From the last she'd heard, the blonde was training to become a part of the Berk Guard— a position Dany knew she'd wanted for ages. She'd have to ask if Astrid had tried out for it yet or if she'd gotten in. (Those were the only two options, obviously; they'd be fools not to take such a commanding, sharp-tongued shield maiden.)

The only other person that she was remotely looking forward to seeing was Fishlegs, who had become Berk's personal tour guide. Not that they received many visitors— being as close to the so-called meridian of misery as it was— but the children hung on to his every word. Their quieter natures and love of learning had made them good friends over the years and Dany often went to him after her adventures with a new sample of a plant or drawing of a map she'd made to add to his collection.

Snotlout and the twins, as always, remained at the bottom of her list. While she no longer let their antics rattle her as they once had, she would never be fond of people so. . . annoying. There was no nicer way of putting it. At least the Jorgenson had occupied himself with the weapons business to keep out of trouble, while Ruffnut and Tuffnut only leaned into their title of 'menaces' and dedicated their lives to Loki, the god of mischief. Thankfully, Dany was gone from the village enough that she kept herself from being a target of their attacks— most of which were directed at the aforementioned Jorgenson.

Berk was well and clearly in sight by now and she urged Drogon to put on a last spurt of speed to get home before dark. A few Vikings rushed up to greet them and help get the new arrivals settled or sent off to her parents for healing. Among them was a familiar blue Deadly Nadder and Dany was wrangled into a bone-cracking hug.

"Ah! Astrid!" she exclaimed, instinctively tensing as her best friend greeted her enthusiastically. While Dany had made vast improvements with eye contact and physical touch over the years— two things that she'd initially despised— surprise embraces were still far from something she enjoyed— especially when the young woman who gave them was more prone to breaking limbs than endearments.

"You're back!" was all the Hofferson had to say to her complaint as she beamed at the other woman.

Dany finally managed to wiggle free from her, though she was smiling rather than wincing. "Yeah. Have you heard anything about the Guard yet?"

Astrid's smile grew bigger. "I got in!"

"Oh, Astrid!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together happily as she beamed at the blonde. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Dany. I'm glad you're happy for me," she replied with a sigh, glancing in an indiscriminate direction with a vaguely irritated glare.

The Targaryen frowned. "Who isn't?"

"Oh. . . well, you know. . ." She shrugged. "Hiccup. He doesn't like change."

Hiccup. There it was again— and again, just hearing his name made her stomach flip-flop. Not even two minutes back on Berk and she was already being pushed towards him. Astrid must've caught the look on her face because her expression became beseeching. "Were you really going to leave again without saying anything to him? You can't avoid him forever, you know. And. . . I think he really needs to talk to you right now. You're the only one he listens to, you know."

"That's not true!" she protested immediately, feeling her face grow warm under Astrid's knowing look. "He listens to you, too!"

"It is," the blonde countered firmly. "He hears me, but he pays attention to you. There's a difference."

"I just. . ." she trailed off and glanced surreptitiously at the other Berkians, then lowered her voice as she continued, "you—know."

Astrid placed a reassuring hand on the shorter woman's shoulder. "You know I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to, but I think it would be really good for you both to have a little talk."

Dany sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her best friend's encouragement. She looked over her shoulder at Drogon, who was now preoccupied with snapping at a Gronckle that had dared to hover too close. A small part of her wished she could climb back on his back and fly far away, but she knew Astrid wouldn't let her off that easily.

"Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms. "But only because you're annoyingly persistent and I'm too tired to argue with you."

The Hofferson's grin returned in full force, but she wisely didn't gloat. "You'll thank me later," she said, giving Dany's shoulder a supportive squeeze before stepping back. "And, hey— does he know about the. . .?" She exhaled sharply from her mouth in an imitation of dragon fire.

This time, Dany did wince, which was all the answer the blonde needed. They both knew that Hiccup wouldn't approve of Daenerys' far-from-diplomatic activities. While she'd told Astrid everything down to the very last detail about burning the ships of dragon traders with the men still on board, she was reluctant to do the same with Hiccup. He was far more honorable and even-tempered than she was, and she couldn't bear to have him look at her with the disappointment she had convinced herself she would find if she told him.

"Well, maybe now would be a good time. . ." Astrid suggested gently, to which Dany vehemently shook her head. The blonde lifted her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, just stick to the heart-to-heart thing that you guys are good at. . . at least in some respects. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Daenerys agreed, relieved to return to safer topics. "Race around the sea-stacks? I've gotta make sure you're still in tip-top shape for the Guard!"

"You're on," Astrid told her with a smirk as she climbed back onto Stormfly. "Get ready to eat our dust!"

The blonde shook her head fondly and returned to her own dragon's back, nudging him up to take off again. His great wings were a bit cramped even this much in the village outskirts, so it took a couple of wingbeats until he could stretch them out to their full length once more.

Most people claimed that Dany had a sixth sense when it came to finding the Chief's wayward son. She guessed his position accurately on the first try without much direction from her best friend, based on his current emotions and the kind of day she was pretty sure he was having. Sure enough, she found him looking out to sea on a small, grassy outcropping with Toothless by his side.

Since Drogon was by no means a stealth dragon, Hiccup saw them coming from a mile away and had leapt to his feet (or foot, as Snotlout liked to point out) in anticipation. He waited restlessly as she stood carefully on her dragon's back and used his tilted wing to dismount— a well-practiced maneuver that she had used since landing on foreign ships would merely sink them under his weight. But, of course, her landing wasn't as graceful as the one she'd made earlier that day; her gaze caught on Hiccup's and she got lost in the greenness of his eyes, which promptly made her feet trip over themselves as she dismounted.

"Whoa!" the brunet exclaimed, leaping forward to steady her.

Naturally, this put them much closer to each other than she'd have liked. And— oh, gods, had he gotten taller? How was that fair? Dany had liked being the same height as him since forever, but he appeared to have hit a late growth spurt that never seemed to stop. Not only that, but all those days spent dragon-training (and she was pretty sure his work in the forge had something to do with it, too) had made his once fishbone-like-stature into something leaner and more defined, with streamlined muscle— nothing like Snotlout's or Fishleg's meatiness. If that wasn't enough, this angle— with her looking up at him— only made the new sharpness of his jawline more pronounced. The flutters in her stomach returned full-force and she found herself unable to do or say anything except gape up at him helplessly.

Hiccup, for his part, was no better. His hands lingered on her arms, steadying her longer than necessary as he gazed down at her with wide, emerald eyes. He took in the changes the last month had made, with her wild, white-blonde curls growing ever-longer and the way her leathers— a new style for her since she'd started this venture, which he appreciated immensely— outlined her own hard-earned muscle. He was the first to realize that he was staring and made an effort to greet her properly.

"Uh, hey," Hiccup finally managed, his voice cracking on the single syllable. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey, Dany. Welcome back."

"Thanks," she replied, her voice a little too high-pitched to pass as nonchalant. She pulled back quickly from his grip, brushing imaginary dirt off her clothes in an attempt to compose herself. "Good to see you, too. It's been. . . a while."

"Yeah, it has," Hiccup said, scratching the back of his neck— a telltale nervous habit she'd noticed years ago. His eyes flickered to Drogon, was making lazy circles nearby as he waited for her. "You've been busy?"

"Yeah. Uh, yeah. . . pretty busy," she said. "I figured Berk could never have enough dragons. You know, for, uh, morale."

Hiccup chuckled softly. "Yeah, morale. Definitely."

An awkward silence stretched between them, the kind that neither of them could figure out how to break.

"So," Dany blurted out, desperate to fill the void. "Astrid told you that she was joining the Berk Guard?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, she might've mentioned something about that," the brunet replied.

More silence. She wished she could still reach out to him as easily as she once had— as everyone seemed to think she was capable of— but she just didn't know what to say anymore. "It. . . it seems like everyone's moving on, huh? They've got more than just the Academy to think about now, while we're. . ."

"I'm not stuck," Hiccup insisted quickly. "There is more out there! This can't be everything. I mean, you've been south! There must be things we haven't seen before, right?"

She avoided looking at his hopeful expression and shrugged. "I haven't found anything, but I've mostly been focused on the sea."

He shook his head determinedly. "I can't give up, not yet."

Dany sighed softly as she pieced her words together meticulously. "No one's asking you to give up, Hiccup. It's just. . . you've been here longer than anyone else. You've done so much for Berk and for dragons, and—" she hesitated, her eyes darting back toward Drogon as if seeking an escape. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt to think about what you want next. For you."

Hiccup's jaw tightened, and his gaze drifted to the horizon. "This is what I want," he replied firmly, though his voice wavered slightly at the edges. "The Academy, the dragons. . . they're everything. There's nothing else out there for me."

Dany felt her chest tighten at his words, the unspoken weight behind them settling heavily between them. You're wrong, she thought, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she shifted uneasily, her feet scuffing the grass. "It's not just about what's out there, though," she said, trying to meet his gaze. "Sometimes, staying isn't about comfort. Sometimes it's about fear of what happens if we move on."

Hiccup's eyes flicked toward her, sharp and guarded. "You think I'm scared?"

"I think. . ." Dany began, then paused, choosing her words with care, "it's okay to want to hold onto something. But, Hiccup, wanting and knowing are two different things; you know we can't keep doing this forever."

She knew better than to mention anything having to do with his future Chiefing duties— and even hinting at them was risky by how she saw him tense up at the mention. She pushed on. "Just like I know that I can't stay away from Berk forever; as much as I believe in what I'm doing, there's things here that I'll be responsible for, eventually— I know my parents want me to take up their healing path. So, even though I'm not ready to move on from what I'm doing yet, I can acknowledge that the future has more in store for me."

But what she considered was extremely logical reasoning was lost on Hiccup; he'd only picked up the first part of her words and perked up considerably. "You're going to stay this time?"

The blonde sighed at his selective hearing— so much for him paying attention to her— and considered the pros and cons of both sides before allowing reluctantly, "I. . . suppose a few days wouldn't hurt." (After all, it would give her more time to try and press her point home.)

She hoped the exuberant smile she got (and the way her stomach fluttered in response) wouldn't make her regret her decision.

🏹🏹🏹

The next morning, Dany and Astrid met early for the race that was promised. It came as no surprise that the Hofferson and Stormfly did make Dany-and-Drogon eat their dust, what with Drogon's bigger size and the Nadder's special chicken diet. Their morning together was cut short when one of the village's younger kids came running up to them and announced that Hiccup was gathering everyone in the training arena due to Trader Johann's unexpected arrival. They made a beeline for the designated place. When they arrived, the Targaryen was greeted with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Dany, you're back!" Fishlegs exclaimed, hurrying forward to wring her hand enthusiastically. She smiled and tolerated the contact for as long as she could before she had Astrid subtly but forcefully pry them apart.

Snotlout was next, his booming voice carrying across the arena before she could fully process Fishlegs' departure. "Well, well, look what the dragons dragged in! The one and only Dany Targaryen, back in the flesh! And might I say, you're looking more radiant than ever. Must be all that sun down south— really brings out your. . . everything."

He swaggered over, his hands on his hips, clearly ready to lay on the charm. The twins were already snickering in the background, Ruffnut giving him a mockingly impressed thumbs-up while Tuffnut mimed swooning dramatically. Dany crossed her arms, her expression flat as she raised an indifferent brow. "Good to see you, too, Snotlout," she said dryly.

"Good to see me? Dany, everyone is glad to see me," Snotlout said, undeterred. He stepped closer, giving her what he likely thought was a dazzling smile. "But I gotta say, I've missed you more than anyone else here. Maybe we could catch up later? Just the two of us—"

"Knock it off, Snotlout," Astrid cut in, her tone sharp as she fell back into her old position of 'buffer' between the two. "You've got more chance of taming a wild Skrill than getting anywhere with Dany."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm very charming," Snotlout shot back, puffing out his chest. "Besides, Dany's clearly a fan of heroic types. Isn't that right, Dany?" He grinned, leaning in just slightly too close.

Dany stepped back, her smile tight— but she didn't let herself shy away in the face of his (unwelcome) advances as she once had. "Sure, Snotlout. Let me know when you meet one."

Hiccup, who had been standing off to the side with Toothless, clenched his fists at his sides. His irritation bubbled under the surface, not just at Snotlout's obnoxious antics, but at his own inability to be so cavalier around Dany. He remembered their stilted (and that was putting it lightly) conversation the day before; there was no way he could ever put himself out there as Snotlout did. Not only was it not in his nature, but he didn't know how the Jorgenson spoke to her without becoming so tongue-tied that his words got stuck in his throat. Or, well, he did know: Snotlout's feelings— or whatever could be passed for them— were so shallow that whatever he felt was only surface-level, while Hiccup could— in years and years' time— see Berk growing and changing with him and Dany at the helm.

Astrid sidled over to him as the twins mocked the Jorgenson for yet another sound rejection, which he hadn't noticed until her voice broke through his thoughts. "You know it's written all over your face, right?" she wondered aloud. Her tone was casual, but her smirk betrayed her amusement.

Hiccup shot her a sidelong glance, his ears reddening. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I don't know," Astrid said, leaning on her axe as she watched the scene unfold. "Maybe a little something called jealousy?"

"I'm not jealous," he retorted quickly, his voice rising a little too much to sound convincing.

"Sure," Astrid replied. She let the silence linger for a moment before she added, "you know you don't have to worry, right? About her and Snotlout, I mean. Dany's not blind. Or desperate."

Hiccup's shoulders stiffened at her words, and he sighed heavily. "I know that. I just. . ." He trailed off, his frustration mounting. How was he supposed to explain that it wasn't about Snotlout? It was about how he couldn't even bring himself to talk to Dany the way he used to, let alone tell her how he felt. He didn't finish his sentence, instead choosing to raise his voice to address the other riders in a clear indication that Astrid wouldn't be getting any more out of him today. "All we got out of Johann before he passed out was this: Dagur escaped from Outcast Island by commandeering his ship. He threw Johann overboard about here."

He pointed to the island the trader had mentioned on the map he'd pinned up. Snotlout crossed his arms and spoke in an annoyed tone, his previous blasé manner returning to his usual attitude. "So, what you're saying is, Dagur could be anywhere by now."

The brunet turned to face them with an apologetic grimace. "Well, technically, yes."

"Oh, great! Great, great, great," the Jorgenson replied sarcastically. "So that just leaves— I don't know, let me think about this— the entire ocean to search! No, thank you."

"Master Hiccup."

They turned to see Johann hobbling towards them, looking only marginally more refreshed than when he'd first appeared on the twins' Zippleback. Dany felt prickles of mistrust run down her spine which, if she took in the man's haggard appearance, was ridiculous, but she remembered Drogon's reluctance to leave her alone with the man, and she trusted her dragon's instinct above all else. None of the others shared her misgivings and Hiccup smiled at the trader with relief. "Johann, you're awake."

"And feeling much better, thank you for asking. More importantly, I have more than a strong suspicion where our nefarious foe may be heading." He gestured with a wide wave of his arms to the clouds on the outskirts of the map that indicated the edge of the archipelago.

Hiccup gave the border a curious look. "Outside the archipelago?"

"No! Just inside the fog bank on our outer group of islands," Johann corrected him.

"We've never been out that far," the chief's son commented, glancing at the Targaryen. "Not even Dany, and she's travelled the farthest out of all of us."

"Not as far as I, I can assure you," the trader told him with a pompous chuckle. He continued, "when Dagur commandeered my precious ship, he also came into possession of a very important map— one that leads to a graveyard of ships hidden in that fog bank."

"Wow! That's the first place I'd go," Snotlout deadpanned.

The older man's eyes narrowed in irritation. "If I may be allowed to finish?"

Even if not everyone shared Dany's suspicion of the man, it seemed as if times were changing because they were clearly no longer in awe of him. Snotlout unabashedly stated (with a bluntness that she could admire), "Johann, the last time we allowed you to finish, we ended up on Breakneck Bog. So, no. No finishing."

"Enough!" Hiccup, of course, would never let them be so rude to one of his father's allies. "What's so special about the graveyard, and why would he go there?"

Johann sucked in a breath as he began to launch into what would be a very long-winded tale. "Well, you see—"

But, taking inspiration from Snotlout's example to not reign in her trademark personality quirks, Dany cut across him hastily, "the short version, please."

She didn't know whether it was surprise from her speaking directly to him— she couldn't remember a time that she had— or the authority in her tone, but Johann said in a single, clipped sentence: "it's where I store all my treasures and wares."

He was clearly unhappy that his desire to hold a captive audience had been cut short, but his quick answer had a similar effect as all of the riders— bar Dany— stared at him in shock. Tuffnut was the first to recover. "Wow, concise, to the point. Who knew he had it in him?"

Ruffnut nodded and nudged her brother. "We should always let Daenerys talk to him now that we know the secret shortcut!"

Unfortunately, Johann's succinctness didn't last. "Which reminds me of the first time I was labeled as 'concise!' He was a young man, very ugly, I actually—"

"Johann—" Hiccup began, only to be cut off by Ruffnut as she flapped a hand at him.

"Wait, wait, let Daenerys do the short talky-thing again!"

She blanched as the twins looked at her expectantly, as if she had some sort of magical powers that made Johann shut up. The trader watched them with a confused sort of displeasure at being interrupted once more. She sighed and made a half-hearted gesture towards the siblings. "Johann, would you mind. . .? Is there anything else?"

He seemed to take pity on her after seeing who she was working with and warned them, "as a matter of fact, there is one ship you must avoid at all costs. It's called. . ." He paused for dramatic effect, then breathed out: "the Reaper."

While others gasped, Dany met Astrid's gaze and shared her unimpressed expression as Johann explained, "riddled with booby traps from stem to stern. Barely made it out with my life the only time I dared venture aboard."

Hiccup looked up at his Night Fury, unphased by Johann's theatrics. "Okay, Toothless, let's go." He turned to the rest of the group. "Unless, of course, any of you can make time out of your busy schedules to capture a dangerous maniac." 

🏹🏹🏹

It didn't take long for the group to get ready— even with the twins' customary antics— and soon they were all in the sky. It was strange being all together like this again; Dany had flown solo for the last three years and having to be aware of others was something she had to get used to once more. Still, it was nice to fly as a group as a reminder of days long past. Well, not too long past, though Hiccup seemed to think so. He apparently thought they were rusty enough that they couldn't follow his calls, as he commanded, "V formation!"

They fell into their places with Toothless at the head of the point. "Diamond formation!"

Drogon fell to the back so that their most vulnerable spots were protected by the two powerhouse dragons. Tuffnut scoffed at the impromptu tests. "How rusty does this guy think we are?"

"Uh. . . guys?" Fishlegs gasped out, causing the siblings to look over their Zippleback's stomach. When they did, they saw that the larger boy was being pressed flat against his saddle by their dragon. "A little tight on the diamond, aren't we?"

They relaxed their organization to fly next to each other and Dany heard Hiccup chuckle. "Just like old times."

And, just to stay true to their leader's words, Snotlout couldn't help but show everyone up by igniting Hookfang and bursting through their ranks with a cheer of, "five-thousand pounds of flaming muscle coming through!"

But even Snotlout's showboating couldn't put a damper on Hiccup's mood, and he merely rolled his eyes at the other teen. "Ever a class act."

As the day wore on, there was a steady drop in their energy since the others weren't used to flying so far at once. Dany was the only one to remain in tip-top shape while Drogon flew steadily under her, the long flight tailored to his well-honed stamina. However, when the clouds grew thicker and the air became noticeably chillier, they straightened in their saddles and became alert.

Ships with cracked hulls and broken masts loomed out of the darkness, all caught by the sharp rocks that jutted out from the water. Torn sails fluttered in the wind, easily giving Fishlegs the shivers as they looked like ghosts. Dany could feel the damp chill settling over her skin and she longed for the warmer temperatures of the south, though she was grateful for Drogon's bulk acting as a wind breaker. The chief's son seemed unperturbed at being surrounded by the very definition of a 'ship graveyard,' instead feeling vindicated that his dogged belief hadn't been for nothing. "I knew it. I knew there was more."

"Some of these ships?" Astrid commented lowly, "I've never seen anything like them before."

"I have," Dany volunteered, also speaking in an undertone as if talking any louder would wake an unseen enemy. "There's all sorts of foreign boats like this in the warmer waters; these ones must've been caught by a storm they couldn't escape from."

Hiccup nodded in acknowledgement of her input, then addressed the group. "Okay, everybody fan out. If you see any trace of Dagur, send a signal."

They did as he said, each taking a section of the graveyard to search. Daenerys felt Drogon let out a soft, continuous rumble as they dipped closer to the water. She patted him reassuringly between the shoulder blades. "Easy there, big guy. We've faced worse than this— and with worse odds— before."

She took care to notice the water and how dark and still it was, which added to the overall creepiness of the place. Still waters hid deep secrets, she knew, so she had Drogon skim one talon on the surface to send ripples spiraling out from the point where he'd touched. She peered carefully at the disturbed water and was pretty sure she saw something sleek and lithe streak just below them. Her dragon bared his teeth at the movement, so she pulled him up quickly, not wanting to get entangled with whatever it was just yet.

They regrouped after doing a cursory search of the area. No one had found anything particularly suspicious, though Dany had made sure to bring up the mysterious underwater creatures.

"No sign of Dagur," Hiccup commented, which, of course, had been the main point of their mission.

"Looks like we got here first," Astrid said bracingly. "What's the plan?"

"We wait."

This didn't sit well with Fishlegs, who shuffled closer to his nervous Gronckle. "Wait— wait a minute. For how long? This fog really gives Meatlug the willies."

"He has a point," the Hofferson added. "We can't wait around here forever."

"We can't just leave Johann's treasure here, either," he shot back. "He'll steal them."

"And use the profits to build a new armada," Astrid agreed.

Dany straightened confidently. "We could take them."

Hiccup sighed, familiar with her more 'trigger-happy' approach. "I'd rather not have war be our first option."

"Then we could steal them!" Ruffnut suggested eagerly.

Tuffnut stared at his sister with apparent disappointment. "That is the dumbest idea I've ever heard. I hereby disown you!"

But Hiccup cottoned on quickly to her idea and his eyes lit up as he developed the plan further in his mind. "Actually, you know what? I sort of like it."

Tuffnut beamed at his twin and threw his arms around her in an over-exuberant hug. "Welcome back to the family."

She shoved him off as Hiccup continued, "here's the plan: we search the ships, gather up Johann's treasure, and take it back to Berk. But keep your eyes open for Dagur. He could show up and any time."

A strange hissing noise surrounded them. Daenerys thought of the sinuous forms she'd seen underwater and wondered if it could be coming from them. She knew about eels, of course— almost all dragons were afraid of them— but she'd never heard a sound this loud. It made her want to clamp her hands over her ears to stop the noise from burrowing into her bones, but she resisted the urge to do so.

Astrid whipped around in alarm. "What is that?"

Tuffnut looked around, too, though in a more relaxed manner than the other blonde. "Uh. . . has Dagur's voice changed?"

Hiccup remembered what Dany had said about things being in the water and he ran over to the side of the boat where a large hole had been bored into the wood. He looked over the edge and saw a flash of yellow in the dark depths. He came to the same conclusion she had and exclaimed, "eels! Everybody, get to your dragons before they get spooked and take off—!"

Unfortunately, he had barely managed to get the first 'e' of 'eels' out before the dragons launched into the air and turned tail without looking back. All but two of them, at least. One of the large creatures leapt onto the deck and slithered towards them, its forked tongue flickering ominously. Drogon swooped forward so low that Astrid and Snotlout had to duck to avoid his barbed tail, but he caught the fish in his talons and flew it into the air, pulling it in two before he dropped the halves back into the water. The eels retreated after that, not wanting to end up in the same fate as their compatriot.

Hiccup ran over to Toothless who, unlike Drogon, was showing signs of distress even if he hadn't completely up and left them— not that he could, thanks to his tail situation. "Calm down, bud. It's only a few eels. Really big, screaming, mean eels." He glanced at Dany, who hadn't even jumped at the sight of the huge animals. "That was. . . really violent, even for Drogon. Is everything okay—?"

"Everything's fine," she retorted, perhaps a bit more sharply than she'd intended. Even if the eels hadn't disturbed her, she felt the first prickles of unease as her best friend witnessed her dragon's development over the last three years. This wasn't even the tip of the iceberg, and he was already concerned about Drogon's behavior. It only cemented her belief in not telling him anything about her independent mission.

She saw his brows furrow and his expression fall into one of mild hurt. Before he could say anything else, Snotlout broke in with a very aggravated, "pardon me, but does anyone else think that Johann could have warned us about— I don't know, the giant, screaming eels? I, for one, am glad that Daenerys has a really badass dragon who isn't a chicken when it comes to eels!" The last part was shouted pointedly in the direction that Hookfang flew off.

"Snotlout, would you relax?" Hiccup scolded him. "The dragons will be back. In the meantime, we stick with the plan. We find Johann's treasure, quietly."

The Jorgenson made a face and stomped off to— probably— pout. As the others began to search the ship they were on (as it wasn't like they could go anywhere else), Dany noticed Hiccup's gaze stray to one of the boats that had two swords on its sail. She stared at it for a moment longer and felt her hair stand on end, suddenly feeling a desire to call Drogon over and have him incinerate the ship— because the moonlight glinted off of something metal that covered the deck, and she had seen enough foreign ships to know exactly what had been nailed down to the planks. Cages.

She moved closer to the chief's son, half in apology from her earlier response. "You're going over there, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he replied without hesitation, his eyes never leaving the boat. "It's the Reaper that Johann told us about."

"A ship covered with booby traps from stem to stern," she echoed the trader's words. "They wouldn't just put those on for decoration."

"That's what I'm thinking. What is in there they don't want people to find?" he wondered.

"And Dagur is crazy enough that he'd still check it out, even knowing about the danger," she finished.

Hiccup nodded, relieved— and happier than he would ever admit— that they were of the same mind. "Come with me?"

Dany felt her face warm despite the cool air. Three years ago, she might've said, yes, anything to spend more time with you. Three years ago, she would've willingly followed him to the depths of hell and back. Don't get her wrong— she still would, but the thought of spending time alone with him, facing unknown danger like they used to (in the same way that had made her feelings appear the first time)? She'd rather be doing anything else. But he was still her best friend, and she wasn't so callous as to reject him outright (because she did really want to come with him), so instead she gave him a regretful shake of her head. "We only have two dragons between the seven of us; one of us better stay here with the others so things don't get out of hand."

The brunet looked towards the ship's hold where the others had disappeared below deck. "You're right." He grimaced guiltily, though not without some disappointment. "You don't mind babysitting duty?"

"Don't let Astrid hear you say that," Dany countered playfully, which also meant that no, she didn't mind.

"Good point; I better get out of here." He sent her a quick smile and hopped on Toothless' back to head for the Reaper.

🏹🏹🏹

It wasn't hard to find Johann's treasures; he certainly didn't make an effort to hide them. There were jewels, books, weapons and other rare items. Dany was just admiring an intricately carved bow— because even if an axe was her main weapon nowadays (as it was much easier to break chains with), archery would always be her weapon of choice— when she heard Drogon let out a warning roar. It vibrated the wooden planks around her and she tensed. Dagur had found them.

Not knowing what she would find waiting for her above, she scooped up the bow and a few of the arrows that lay nearby in addition to the axe on her back. She glanced up through the cracks in the panels to see her dragon's restlessness, his massive frame visible as he circled overhead. She could feel his protective fury even without looking. She just had to get to him and she would gain the upper hand.

The Targaryen came out swinging, anticipating an immediate attack as she burst out from the hold. She was right— one of the Outcasts had been waiting to knock her out, thinking her easy prey, but he leapt back as the arrow point scraped against his skin. Dagur's laughter echoed across the deck as Dany drove the sharpened arrowhead into the second Outcast's arm, forcing him to drop his weapon with a startled cry.

She then reached back for her axe and swung it in Dagur's direction, though he didn't even flinch as she missed by a mile. While she had been using an axe for the last three years, it had never been for actual combat. She was glad that Astrid and the others were knocked out cold so they couldn't see her fail so miserably with a classic Viking weapon.

Dagur tilted his head, his grin widening as if he found her efforts endearing. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. "The Mother of Dragons. I've heard that they're calling you the Breaker of Chains now— would you prefer that? In any case, thank you for finally gracing us with your presence. Your friends were so boring, so easy to take out. I like a fight, especially when it's not a fair one."

Dany clenched her jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. She took another swing with her axe, this time aiming for his smug face, but he ducked effortlessly, the blade whistling harmlessly over his head. He didn't retaliate— didn't even bother drawing a weapon. It was almost worse than if he'd attacked; his casual confidence gnawed at her.

"You're out of your depth, little chain-breaker," Dagur continued, circling her like a predator. "But I'll give you this— you've got spirit. Too bad it won't do your friends much good."

Drogon let out another thunderous roar, circling lower until they felt the force of his wings whip the air above them. Dagur finally glanced up, his grin faltering just slightly as the dragon's shadow passed over them.

"Ah, there's the beast," he said, his voice still light but tinged with a flicker of unease. "But what can he do, hmm? Roast your friends? That'd be a shame."

"That's not what he's here for— yet," Dany countered. She wasted no more time with a weapon she didn't know and instead left it on the deck to scramble up her dragon's wing until she was safely seated on his back once more.

The Berserker frowned with apparent disappointment. "Boring and predictable. I was hoping you'd give me a little more. . . fire—" He paused to laugh wildly at his own joke. "—then our good friend ol' one-leg, but I guess you're just as dull as he is."

Dany scowled, not liking that Dagur was mixing up unresponsiveness for respect. If she was by herself, she would have already lit the ship ablaze. But she had the others and Hiccup to think about and she would always, always wait for his signal before she did anything that put their friends in danger. Since she knew Dagur wouldn't hurt the other riders— he needed them for Hiccup to cooperate— she only felt a little guilty for hovering above them as the Berserker and ex-Outcasts carted the group over to the Reaper and locked them in a cage while they waited for the chief's son to show up.

Luckily, they weren't held up long and Hiccup soon appeared through the trap door. His eyes immediately fell on the Berserker and he quickly hid the metal cylinder in his hands behind his back. Then, his gaze flicked around to account for his friends, who (now awake) appeared annoyed but otherwise unharmed. When he didn't see Dany right away, his heart thundered in his chest as his grip tightened on the cylinder— but then he saw Drogon circling above and the familiar flash of white-blonde hair and relaxed.

Dagur beamed a too-wide smile and threw his arms out towards the brunet with an exuberant greeting of, "Hiccup! Did you miss me? 'Cause I sure missed you. Every day for three years, I thought about you. And you, too, Mr. Night Fury."

Toothless came to stand beside his rider and let out a low growl. Astrid gripped the bars of the cage as she called out, "sorry, Hiccup. He got the drop on us while we were searching—"

"Uh, quiet!" Dagur shouted at them. "Can't you see my brother and I are having a moment?"

"I'm not your brother," Hiccup snapped. "And we are definitely not having a moment."

The Berserker seemed taken aback by the teen's short insistence and he sounded almost disappointed when he admitted, "oh, well, I was." He brightened again and gave the young man a once-over. "Look at you! All grown up! And quite the ladies' man, I'd wager? Hmmm?" He not-so-subtly glanced between Astrid and Dany, who was still flying above them.

To his credit, Hiccup only startled a little at the Dany-insinuation before he hastily demanded, "Dagur, what do you want?"

"Duh," Snotlout cut in, shaking back the long, blond braids he was suddenly sporting. He'd tucked them into his helmet so they hung in his face, dangling nearly to his chest. "He wants the jewels."

"He's not getting my family's jewels. No way! And I'll protect them at all costs!" Tuffnut declared. He then frowned at the Jorgenson in confusion. "Also, what is with that hair?"

Snotlout scoffed. "Ha! It's royal hair, I'll have you know."

Dagur rolled his eyes. To bring the attention back to him, he commented snidely, "haven't gotten rid of the Greek chorus, I see. Anyway, yes. I'll take the jewels. His, too."

The guard closest to the cage socked Ruffnut in the stomach. She grunted, some of the jewels she'd stuffed in her mouth expelling from the hit. "Watch it, pal!"

When the ex-Outcast laughed at her anger, she retaliated by spitting a remaining jewel straight into his open mouth. It lodged in his throat and he stumbled away, holding onto it tightly as he gasped to dislodge the gem. Dagur shrugged at his mistake. "Oops, thought that was the guy. Never can tell with those two." He turned back to Hiccup, his expression becoming menacing once more. "And I'll also take whatever it is you're hiding behind his back." Hiccup didn't move. "Come on, hand it over like a good boy. Brothers share, you know."

Dagur's Vikings grunted and threateningly aimed their crossbows at the chief's son. He handed it over reluctantly, commenting, "you know you're not going to get very far with that thing, right?"

The Berserker chuckled at his remark. "Oh, boy, here we go. Must we always do the same dance Hiccup, you and I?" He slung an arm around Hiccup's shoulders. "Not that you're not a fabulous dancer." Toothless growled, causing the guards to shift their crossbows from the teen to his dragon.

Hiccup rushed to the Night Fury's side and kneeled down next to him. "Easy, bud, not yet."

"That's right, Mr. Night Fury. Today is not the day." The red-haired man shook his finger condescendingly at the dragon. "But it's coming! And soon. Now, if you'll excuse me. I've got people to see, an army to build, revenge to plot. Ooh, so much to do and so little time. Isn't this exciting, Hiccup? You— you must have been so bored over the last three years."

"Yeah, he's got a point about that," Tuffnut agreed offhandedly. "Not enough explosions."

Dagur acted as if the Thorston had never spoken. "Alas, my time here has come to an end. Farewell for now, brother." He released the brunet and walked over to the side of the ship, his remaining men guarding his back. "Until we meet again on the field of battle."

Then, they slung their legs over the side of the ship and jumped onto the escape boat. Hiccup looked between them and his captured friends, torn on what to do— until Drogon's shadow fell over him, closer than he'd been before. Dany hovered almost parallel to the ship now, near enough that he could give her instructions. He ran over to the railing and told her rapidly, "I need you to go after them— that cylinder Dagur has, he can't be allowed to keep it. It's about this big—" He positioned his hands less than a foot apart. "You can't miss it."

"Aye, aye, Captain," the blonde said, giving him a half-serious, half-playful two-fingered salute. "You can count on me."

He knew he could, and the fact they were working together again— just like old times— made him smile despite the situation. He turned back to their friends without another thought while Dany urged Drogon after the departing boat.

"Sir, it's not the black one!" the ex-Outcast called as he watched the large dragon's approach. "You said the leader was going to follow us!"

But, Dagur was far from disappointed. He rubbed his hands together and laughed in his trademark deranged way. "Oho! Not as predictable as I thought. Now this is where things get interesting." He made a chopping motion with his hand in the signal for release.

"Are you sure, sir?" the guard grunted. "The boy—"

"I said this!" He repeated the motion again. "When I say this, it means release! I don't pay you to question my orders!"

As they prepared the catapult, one of the Vikings grumbled, "you don't pay us at all."

He soon found himself at the wrong end of the axe that Dany had dropped and his chief's menacing eyes glaring into his. "What was that?"

"Launching now, sir!" he corrected himself hastily, though the axe didn't leave his throat until the boulder was in the air.

Daenerys saw the large rock coming her way and knew she didn't have enough time to move Drogon out of it's path. Instead, she angled him so that his claws intercepted the boulder. The impact sent them flailing backwards a few feet, but he easily regained his balance and continued towards the boat.

"Good catch, boy," she murmured, patting Drogon between the shoulder blades. Then her eyes narrowed, a plan already forming. "Let's give them something to think about."

Drogon didn't need further instruction. With a powerful thrust of his wings, he closed the gap between them and the escape boat in seconds. Dagur's men scrambled to ready their crossbows, but their aim wavered as Drogon loomed closer, his massive shadow swallowing them whole. Dagur, on the other hand, was utterly unbothered. He stood at the bow, arms spread wide— and a cylindrical-shaped object in his hand— as if welcoming whatever came next.

With her dragon now above the escape boat, Dany gauged the distance and leapt off his back, landing with a thud on the deck below. She rolled to absorb the impact and sprang up. Her bare feet were silent as she lunged, feinting left before darting right, and snatched the cylinder from his grip. Dagur's eyes lit up with excitement as he grabbed for her, but she was already moving.

"Not so fast!" he shouted, but Dany vaulted over the side of the boat, Drogon's massive wing sweeping down to catch her. She landed on the dragon's back with practiced ease, clutching the cylinder tightly.

Once she was clear of the boat, the dragon hurled the boulder he'd caught moments ago, the projectile smashing into the ship's stern with a thunderous crash. The impact sent planks and debris flying as the boat listed dangerously to one side.

"Abandon ship!" one of the Outcasts screamed, leaping into the water. The others quickly followed suit.

Dagur, however, stood his ground, arms spread wide as the ship began to sink. "Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!" he crowed, his wild eyes following Drogon as the dragon hovered overhead.

Dany wasn't finished. She patted Drogon's neck, and the dragon reared back, his throat glowing with an ominous orange light. Flames erupted from his mouth, engulfing what remained of the boat in a fiery inferno. Although the ship, its crew and its chief were soon vanished amongst the smoke and steam that came from fire hitting icy water, she could still hear the Berserker laughing as he escaped the blaze. "Yes! Yes, that's what I'm looking for!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the crackle of flames and crashing waves. "I'm proud to call you sister, Targaryen!"

Daenerys was very glad that Hiccup— even with his knowledge of her family's Berserker history— was too far away to hear Dagur's parting words.

A/n: here we goooooo! I'm so happy that I finally get to write rtte! I will admit that I have only watched up until the end of s3, since that's when I got my idea for this fanfic and jumped back to httyd 1 to start writing Stormborn. That being said, the act names for s5 and 6 may change, as well as s3 since I watched it so long ago that I don't really remember what happened. 

However, I do know (pretty much) everyone's favorite episode is Blindsided, both from Instagram edits and skipping ahead to watch that episode. This brings me to my next point/question, which is this: I normally get annoyed when I see the OC take the canon character's spot in dialogue and scenes because most people just replace one with the other without making any extra effort to be original. (For example, putting an OC in Astrid's place when she falls off the boat in this episode just so Hiccup can be 'worried' about them.)

But, this *is* my comfort, do-anything-I-want fic, so I wanted to know your guys' opinions about this matter as I'd be happy to make an exception. Dany will definitely be in Astrid's place in Blindsided— there's no question about that— but what about the other episodes since the writers loved to put Astrid in danger? Like the Odin's scourge and. . . well, I don't know what else, but how would you feel about Dany being in Astrid's place there?