Hiccup's Perspective
The rays of a new dawn filtered softly through the cabin's windows, casting a golden haze over the simple but warm space we now called home.
The fire crackled gently at the hearth, filling the cabin with a comfortable heat.
I moved quietly, flipping pancakes over the iron griddle, the rich scent of sweet batter and sizzling fish filling the room. It was almost funny to think about—me, cooking breakfast.
Back in Berk, survival had been my obsession, not the small comforts of a meal shared with family. There, every day was just another battle to endure the contempt of the village.
But here, in this sanctuary built with my own hands—with Luna by my side and our little hatchling, Freya, tucked safely under our wings—life had become something I barely recognized.
Something good.
I stacked the last pancake onto the growing pile and took a moment to breathe it all in.
In just a week, everything had changed.
Luna, my fierce, unyielding mate, had become not just my partner but my equal, my other half.
And Freya—our hatchling—not by blood, but by bond, heart, and soul—had nestled herself so firmly into our lives it felt as though she had always been here.
The crackling fire was interrupted by the distant sound of voices outside.
"Again," Luna's voice floated through the open window—steady, commanding, but patient.
"I'm trying!" Freya huffed back, frustration thick in her voice. "I can shift back to my human form, but the dragon form feels... stuck!"
"It will take time," Luna replied calmly. "You've only just begun to discover who you really are. Trust yourself—and it will come."
A small smile tugged at my lips as I wiped my hands clean.
They're perfect, I thought.
"Luna! Freya! Breakfast is ready!" I called out.
⸻
Freya's Perspective
I stumbled backward, my wings twitching in frustration.
No matter how hard I concentrated, no matter how much I wanted it—I couldn't get my full dragon form to emerge.
"It's no use," I muttered angrily, clenching my fists.
Luna knelt before me, her emerald eyes steady and patient.
"You are trying too hard," she said simply. "Your half-dragon form came naturally because it is balanced—part human, part dragon. Shifting fully... that takes trust."
"Trust?" I echoed, confused.
"Trust in yourself. In your instincts. You are no longer human. Your blood is ours now. You must stop thinking... and start feeling."
Her words made sense in a way that was hard to explain. I felt a small ember of pride flicker inside me at her belief—but I couldn't hide the sting of frustration either.
I wanted to be strong.
I wanted to make them proud.
I wanted to fly.
Before I could say anything more, Hiccup's voice called from the cabin.
"Breakfast is ready!" he shouted warmly.
A tantalizing smell drifted on the breeze, sweet and savory. My stomach growled so loudly that Luna smirked at me.
"Come," she said, standing gracefully. "Let's see what your father has prepared."
At her words—father—a warm rush of emotion surged through me, chasing away the frustration.
My father.
My mother.
A smile broke across my face as I raced after her toward the cabin.
⸻
Hiccup's Perspective
When they stepped inside, I couldn't help but grin at the sight of them.
Luna's wild hair was a little tousled from training, her scaled arms folded elegantly across her chest, while Freya bounced excitedly beside her, her tiny tail twitching with each step.
The table was already set—plates filled with golden pancakes and grilled fish.
Freya's eyes widened immediately. "What are those?" she asked, pointing at the stack of pancakes with pure curiosity.
"They're called pancakes," I said, chuckling. "Something new I came up with. Try them."
Luna sniffed one cautiously—ever the cautious predator—and tore off a small piece. Her emerald eyes widened just slightly, and she gave a slow, approving nod.
Freya wasted no time. She grabbed a piece with both hands, stuffed it into her mouth—and immediately gasped.
"This is amazing!" she squealed, her wings fluttering with delight.
I laughed as I poured a little honey over her plate.
"I'm glad you like it. I had a good feeling about these."
For a little while, we simply ate in peace.
No tension.
No fear.
Just us.
But eventually, the conversation turned to things that couldn't be ignored.
I set down my fork and cleared my throat. "Tomorrow," I said, voice even, "Freya and I will return to the village."
Across the table, Luna stiffened visibly.
Freya blinked up at me. "Why?"
"Dragon training resumes," I explained, my voice turning colder. "It's time Berk remembered who I am. What they created when they cast me aside."
The table seemed to grow colder as Luna's low growl filled the air.
"You want to go back to that pathetic village?" she asked sharply, her emerald eyes burning with fury.
I met her gaze without flinching. "I don't want to," I said truthfully. "But I have to. They need to see what they threw away. They need to fear what they've made."
Luna's claws tapped softly against the wood. Her possessiveness crackled through our bond like electricity.
"Then I'm coming with you," she said coldly.
"Luna—" I started, but she cut me off.
"I'm not asking, Hiccup," she said, her voice low and lethal.
"You are mine. Freya is mine. If they dare to lay a hand on either of you..." she smiled thinly, cruelly, "I will show them what it means to anger a dragoness."
I felt my heart swell with pride—and a dark satisfaction.
Through our bond, I reached out, my tone calm but firm.
"You don't have to come, my love. I can handle them."
Her answer came without hesitation.
"It's not about handling it. It's about making sure they never forget."
I chuckled softly. "Alright. Fine. But let me set the stage properly first. If you're going to reveal yourself... I want it to have the greatest impact."
Luna's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but she nodded.
Good.
We'll make it unforgettable.
I turned to Freya, softening my voice.
"But for today... today is not about the village."
Luna tilted her head slightly, suspicious. "What are you planning?"
"Nothing dangerous," I promised lightly.
"Today is a day for bonding. A mother-daughter day."
Freya perked up instantly, her wings giving a tiny excited twitch.
"You two should spend the whole day together," I continued, hiding a grin. "Get to know each other better. Have some fun."
Luna arched a skeptical brow.
"You are planning something," she accused mildly.
"Nothing that will end in fire," I teased.
Luna snorted but finally relented.
"Fine," she said, rising from the table. "But tomorrow... we return to Berk."
"And Berk," I said with a grin, "will learn that our family is not to be touched."
Freya, still beaming from the delicious breakfast and the prospect of spending the whole day with Luna, gave a small bounce of excitement.
"Can we fly, Mama?" she asked, her voice bursting with hope.
Luna blinked—then, slowly, a soft, real smile curled her lips.
"Yes, little one," she said, ruffling Freya's hair fondly.
"Today... we fly."