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❛ sᴛᴏʀᴍʙᴏʀɴ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʙᴏʏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛs ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ꒱


❝ TO HIM, IT'S A GIFT.
IT'D BE RUDE TO REFUSE IT. ❞

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It has been said that Hiccup has made a lot— a lot— of mistakes. The most recent include the destruction of the sea-stairs, his inability to kill the Night Fury and how he couldn't make his father just listen to him. He probably made a dozen more errors during his first day of dragon training, but thankfully that was all over (for now.)

He'd escaped into the forest at the first chance he got, slipping away from the other teens as they groaned about 'learning on the job.' The cool solitude of the woodland helped to soothe his rattled nerves as his boots scuffed along the dirt trail, lost in thought about Gobber's words. Remember, a dragon will always, always go for the kill.

His foot knocked against a loose stone on the path, causing him to look down. Hiccup bent and picked up the rounder-than-normal rock that lay in the clearing. The rope from his bola had been taken away and the unknown question of who made his skin crawl with unease. He didn't want to think about what would happen if one of the Vikings from Berk had come across the Night Fury. Pushing that unpleasant thought aside, he rolled the stone over in his palm as he murmured, "so. . . why didn't you?"

He followed the dragon's path to where boulders came together to form a small opening, beyond which a peaceful cove could be seen. Birds flew in the dappled sunlight, completely at ease in their natural surroundings. There was no sign of a possibly dangerous dragon anywhere.

The brunet sighed with disappointment. "Well, this was stupid."

Just as he was about to turn back, his gaze caught sight of a trail of loose, black scales that lead over the rock and down to the grassy area below. As he picked one up to examine it more closely, the owner of the scales swooped past him with a loud cry, causing him to gasp in shock. As he fell backwards in surprise, he saw the dragon's tail whip by him. The Night Fury scrabbled at the rocks before he admitted defeat and glided over the water. The dragon landed with a heavy thump and a frustrated growl.

After observing it for a little while longer— and dropping his pencil, which was another mistake to add to the list— he returned to the Great Hall more confused than before.

🏹🏹🏹

"Is this some kind of joke to you? Our parents' war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

Astrid's words rang in his head as he made his way back to the increasingly familiar clearing. On one hand, they had stung and hurt his feelings more than he'd expected— more than he'd like them to. On the other, she'd talked to him! She'd actually acknowledged his existence and had probably said more things in those angry sentences than the entire time he'd known her. Not to mention the furious look in her blue eyes only made her more fearsome and beautiful, in his opinion.

What he needed was clarity. He knew the Viking side of the story: kill or be killed; dragons are the enemy, no questions asked. What he didn't know was how the dragons felt about the feud— if it was two-sided or not. Maybe the dragons were only fighting to protect themselves (and that thought was almost more scary than the truth he'd known his entire life.) (Un)fortunately, the only dragon he had access to answer his questions even remotely was the Night Fury he'd downed a few nights ago.

He barely paid the slimy salmon in his hand any mind as his thoughts continued to plague him, circling the same what-ifs around and around. He knew what happened to people who thought differently about dragons: the Targaryens were the textbook example. At best, they were banished; at worst, they were ostracized and their name was made into a household insult. But there was a part of him that wondered if, maybe, the Targaryens weren't as mad as everyone feared they were. Maybe they had seen the good in dragons and had decided that, as a whole, the entire species was worth fighting for.

Hiccup was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed how quickly he'd approached the cove and before he could stop himself, the shield that he'd been carrying in his other hand got stuck between the boulders. Not bothering to struggle with it, he tossed the fish onto the grass in front of him where it landed several feet away. When there was no movement, he peered cautiously over the edge of his shield.

Unlike the day before, the Night Fury was directly in his line of sight, though sitting so quietly Hiccup hadn't noticed him before. The dragon was crouched at the water's edge, his tail switching slowly back and forth and his wings were neatly folded to his sides. There was no sign of struggle as there had been yesterday; the dragon seemed perfectly comfortable in his surroundings.

The dragon's head was turned slightly to the right, his emerald gaze fixed on. . . the girl next to him. Hiccup's breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened with surprise. At first, he thought the girl was Astrid as her hair was such a light blonde and he felt both scared at the thought of the Night Fury coming to harm (considering her words only hours earlier), but also thrilled that maybe Astrid had changed her mind. When he realized that no, she wasn't Astrid, his next instinct was to shout a warning to the girl, who was apparently oblivious to her large, black shadow.

She sat on the grass with her legs crossed, her head bent as she focused on her hands, which were moving in measured strokes as a soft shh sound followed her actions. Her silvery-blonde hair tumbled loosely down her back and a circlet of lavender flowers crowned her head.

Oddly, he felt almost more nervous today than he had been any of the other times he'd been in the Night Fury's presence. He cautiously slipped under the shield and took several uncertain steps forward, deciding to not pick up the fish right then since he didn't want to look stupid holding it when the girl turned around. Unsure of how to get their attention, he cleared his throat and— in a voice barely above a whisper— announced, "uh, hi?"

Their reactions were almost immediate:

Both the girl and the dragon jumped into fighting stances, with the former scrambling to her feet and hastily stringing a bow and arrow, dropping her knife and wood in the process. The latter bared his teeth and stood protectively in front of the girl, his back arched and tail thrashing angrily. Hiccup's eyes stayed trained on the weapon rather than the dragon since he'd had at least some (positive) experience with the Night Fury.

"Who are you?" the girl asked fiercely, holding her position despite the fact that he hardly posed a threat. "How did you find this place? What do you want with this dragon?"

The boy gulped nervously, unable to focus on anything except the very sharp, very deadly arrow that was aimed unwaveringly at his chest. "I— well, I don't. . . uh. . . um. . . well, you see." As he continued to fail to answer her questions, the girl's eyes— which were purple, he realized with a start— narrowed dangerously. Get a grip, Hiccup, he told himself sternly. It's just a dragon. . . and a girl.

He cleared his throat and tried again: "I'm-I'm Hiccup Haddock. I found this place the other day." He paused as he tried to answer all of her questions (a wrong answer would surely send him to an early grave.) "What. . . what was the last one?"

"What do you want with this dragon?" she repeated, a note of impatience edging her voice.

"Nothing!" he exclaimed hastily. At her disbelieving look, he amended, "well, I-I don't know. I just know that I don't want to hurt him."

Thankfully, that seemed to be the correct response as the girl lowered her weapon, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. A moment of silence fell between them as she studied him with her unusual violet eyes until he ventured hesitantly, "what about you?"

The blonde seemed surprised that he had bothered to ask before she answered, "I'm Daenerys Targaryen—"

His eyes went very wide at that and he half-wished his shield wasn't still between the boulders. "Targaryen? As in, the mad Targaryens?"

Her own eyes flashed defensively. "I'm not mad! None of us are. People just think that because we don't want to kill dragons!"

After hearing all of the horror stories about her family, Hiccup wasn't quite convinced. "So. . . you don't wear human teeth around your neck as trophies? And you're not going to hunt me for sport, right?"

Some of her defensiveness melted away as she replied seriously, "we only hunt humans on Snoggletog and the occasional Thor's day." At his horrified look, she broke into a smile. "No, we don't. I was only joking."

He let out a pent-up breath. "Oh— oh. Haha." As he let out an uncomfortable laugh (as he still wasn't entirely convinced), his gaze turned to the dragon, who was still positioned defensively in front of the girl— Daenerys.

She noticed his look. "You don't have any weapons on you, do you? He doesn't like them." Hiccup glanced pointedly at her bow and arrow. "He knows me now," she explained. "Besides, I'm protecting him with them."

Accepting her response, he pulled back his fur vest to reveal the dagger hidden on his belt. The Night Fury's eyes narrowed and a low growl formed in his throat. Daenerys rested a gentle hand on the dragon's head to calm him. The boy took the knife out and dropped it to the ground, kicking it into the lake with a soft splash. The dragon sat up, instantly friendly as he eyed the fish on the ground hopefully.

"Is that for him?" Daenerys asked curiously.

"Oh. Um, yeah." Acutely aware of her interested gaze on him, Hiccup bent down and scooped up the fish before he presented it with both hands to the dragon. He couldn't help but feel self-conscious of the gesture with a girl who looked so much like Astrid watching his every move.

The Night Fury moved closer to him, opening his mouth eagerly to accept the fish. That caught his attention as he couldn't help but notice— "huh. Toothless. I could've sworn you had. . . teeth!"

He gasped as the dragon took the fish from him with a single bite. Then, the sound of laughter filled the clearing as Daenerys giggled at his reaction. He felt his face heat up as she laughed at him, though he couldn't help but smile in amusement as well.

The Night Fury began to approach him slowly, hopeful for more. He tripped backwards as he scrambled to get away, stammering out, "Uh-uh, no. . . no. I-I don't have any more!"

The dragon made a gagging noise as his throat heaved until he spit out the half-eaten remains of his salmon. He sat back on his hind legs and watched Hiccup with bright green eyes, waiting for his next move. The boy looked over at Daenerys for help, who couldn't hide the sparkle of mirth from her gaze. "He wants to share with you," she explained, barely hiding her continued laughter. "That's a great honor, you know."

Hiccup groaned as he looked down at the slimy fish. "You know, I've always dreamt of eating fish that's been pre-chewed and generously seasoned with dragon saliva."

At first, the girl seemed to be unable to tell if he was joking or not until she just shook her head. "To him, it's a gift. It would be rude to refuse it."

He shot her an annoyed look (that he didn't really mean). "It might be better if we ate it together."

"Oh no," she reassured him. "I'm good, thanks. This one's all yours."

The brunet grimaced and, with a glance at the expectant dragon, slowly lifted the fish to his mouth and took a reluctant bite. At the Night Fury's insistence, he swallowed the (disgusting) salmon. He gave a strained smile at the dragon's probing look. The boy's expression seemed to fascinate him and the Night Fury gave a gummy attempt at his own smile.

Out of everything he knew about dragons (which, admittedly, wasn't much), he'd never considered them to be intelligent. But now, looking into the Night Fury's eyes, he didn't see any murderous rage or blind hatred; he could only see curiosity and innocence. The lack of danger prompted him to rise to his feet— slowly, so as to not scare him— with his hand stretched out. The dragon bared his teeth as he got closer, uneasy with his approach. He darted off before Hiccup could touch him, dashing over to the other side of the lake where he heated up the ground before he curled up on the warm spot.

The blonde girl sat down next to him and he half-entertained the thought of copying the dragon and darting away from her. "Don't worry," she told him. "He'll come back around soon enough. He's very skittish— he won't even let me touch him."

"You don't say," the boy agreed, watching the distant dragon. "Daenerys—"

"You can call me Dany," she interrupted him. "My friends do, anyway."

He gave her an intrigued look. "Really?"

Her face turned a bit pink. "Well, they would if I had any."

Hiccup stared at her, surprised by the admission. All of the teens in the village were friends, Astrid being the most popular amongst them. If someone as. . . as pretty as Astrid was (because he'd have to be blind to not see that), was friendless like him. . . Well, maybe he didn't have to feel as awkward as he did around her.

He nodded in acceptance. "Okay. . . Dany."

She sent him a beaming smile that lit up her entire face, turning her purple eyes a shade of lavender that matched the flowers in her hair. Hesitantly, she asked, "can. . . can I call you. . . Hiccy?"

Hiccup made a face that caused her to giggle. "Please don't."

"Okay, okay, I won't," she promised.

Another silence fell between them, but more companionable than the first. Then, the boy glanced over at her tentatively. "You. . . seem very comfortable with the Night Fury. Have you. . . known him long?"

Dany shook her head. "Oh, no. But I am very good with dragons— better than with people, really. My mom and dad sometimes call me the mother of dragons because of how skilled I am with them. And-and because of Drogon."

She said the last part so quietly he wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear it, but he questioned her anyway: "Drogon?"

The blonde kept her gaze in her lap where she played with her fingers. "He's my dragon. I hatched him and his brothers when I was little."

Her words only made him more confused, but at last he had someone to answer his questions rather than have them roll around in his head until they were all muddled together. Hiccup thought that she might know more about dragons than anyone in Berk and he couldn't help but feel as if the Gods had finally listened to him— for once. He leaned forward inquisitively. "You hatched dragons? What was that like?"

She gave him a regretful smile. "I don't know, really. It happened when I was little, back when my parents lived in the village— it was the reason why the left, actually. They'd made it their life mission to administer peace between dragons and Vikings, but as you know, Viking minds aren't easily changed. Well, on one particularly intense night, our house caught fire— with me and my grandmother in it. My mom and dad thought that we'd both been lost, but it turned out that I'd survived— and along with me were three very tiny dragons."

The brunet listened to her story with rapt attention, her version of events completely different than everything he'd been taught about dragons and the Targaryens. "How did you survive? And where did the dragons come from?"

Dany shifted awkwardly under his eager questioning, her gaze still lowered on her fingers. "Well, again, I don't know how I survived. My mother says that dragon blood runs in my veins. Her side has always had a unique relationship with them since three dragon eggs have been handed down to every generation since Bork the Bold."

"So. . . you know a lot about dragons?" Hiccup wondered. All he wanted was someone to provide the other side of the story before he followed Astrid's advice and picked a side.

"I'd say so, yeah," the girl allowed, though her reply came out humbly rather than cocky.

"Could. . . could you tell me about them?" he asked.

Her bright, beaming grin was answer enough.

🏹🏹🏹

They spent the evening talking about dragons, which Hiccup soon found out was Dany's favorite subject. He barely needed to ask her anything else before she launched into a monologue about the dragons she'd met over the years and how the Vikings' perception of them was entirely wrong. From her descriptions alone, he had begun to think that her side of the story was the more accurate one. One thing that he noticed, however, was that she always referred to the dragons by their species— except for Drogon, whom she called by his name.

"So the Night Fury—"

"Dany," he cut her off unintentionally as the realization came to him, "doesn't he have a name?" Hiccup nodded to the black dragon who had remained several feet away from them.

She gave him a surprised look. "Of course he does. All dragons have names."

"Then why haven't you used his?"

The blonde shrugged. "He isn't mine to name. Drogon is mine, so I named him after my grandfather, Drogo. But the Night Fury is someone else's dragon to call theirs." She glanced over at him. "He can be yours, if you want."

"Mine?" he repeated, somewhat nervously.

She nodded as if the concept was entirely normal. "Sure. You can think about what to call him."

Hiccup considered the dragon thoughtfully. "I don't think he likes me very much."

"Nonsense," Dany said confidently. "You just scared him earlier, is all."

He stared at her in disbelief. "I scared him?"

"Well you're a Viking, aren't you? They attack dragons relentlessly."

The boy frowned slightly. "But they've killed hundreds of us over the years."

For the first time, the sentiment seemed more like a statistic that he was repeating than something he actually believed.

Her eyes narrowed with annoyance as her tone sharpened. "And you've killed thousands of them. Don't they have a right to be afraid?"

As the evening had drawn on, Hiccup had noticed that Dany didn't often look him in the eyes as they talked, instead preferring to look at her surroundings or play with blades of grass that she'd pulled up. Now, though, she met his gaze evenly— even fiercely— as though defending dragons gave her more confidence than anything else could.

When he thought about it that way, he had to admit she made a lot of sense. Guilt prickled within him at the thought of how many Vikings— including him— had blindly believed what they'd been told. "Oh. I suppose I never thought about it like that."

Dany's expression softened at his words. "Well, I'd be happy to show you the other side of them. We can start with this one."

A/n: they've finally met! Hiccup and Dany are very much idiots to lovers and awkward, oblivious babies. As with literally everything I write (because it's one of my favorite tropes), this is a very slow burn. There's lots of cute moments up ahead to enjoy in the meantime :)