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Day 1: "Ruffled hair"

Hilda let out a heavy yawn as she flopped down onto her bed, exhausted, the bedframe creaking underneath her weight, complaining about the sudden weight it had to support. The young healer groaned, tiredness and discomfort flowing freely through her body. It had been a rather long day—not only did she have to deal with the twins messing around with poison from speed stingers in the morning, which led to her finding out they had also exhausted her already low stock of antidote, which in turn lead to an almost day-long expedition to nearby islands to look for the needed ingredients and make once more some bottles of said antidote… but she also had to fly rather late at night to the dragon hunters’ base to retrieve some ingredients Viggo had promised her. While the journey wasn’t too long or exhausting, on her way back to Dragon’s Edge she faced the added issue of a sudden rain.

Rain didn’t prove much of an issue for most riders, not with how light it had been anyway; they would just soar above the clouds to avoid the light drizzle, or maybe even fly through it if the journey wasn’t too long. But neither of those was an option for Hilda and Boreas. Neither of them had the greatest sense of direction, and so dragon and rider relayed on rock formations and island shapes to know whether they were flying in the right direction or getting absolutely lost, which made it so they were forced to fly underneath the clouds for longer flights like that one. To make matters worse, as a woolly howl, there was a considerable amount of hair coating the dragon’s body. The unexpected rain, or any contact with water really, proved incredibly tedious at best and dangerous at worse for his kind. They had been relatively lucky as the rain didn’t grow into a storm, though, yet by the time Boreas landed on the dragon’s edge, his weight had increased and made it all that much harder to fly, not to mention how sluggish the usually agile dragon felt. But, they had made it, and now they were both utterly spent and drenched.

Hilda groaned as she forced herself to rise from her soft, inviting bed, painfully aware that sleeping in soaked clothing would only make things much worse for her. She took off her boots and coat, her vest and pants soon following as she looked for some kind of bucket to let them dry in, not caring much about how they’d get wrinkly rather fast if she didn’t stretch them out properly. Finding a cloth to dry her hair, the young healer approached the wooden chest that lay underneath her bed and stored all her clothes, some neatly folded and some others thrown in there without a care in the world. She fetched a clean pair of pants and a comfortable shirt, not minding whether they were outside clothes or inside ones. She just wanted to sleep.

Boreas, however, had other plans. The dragon growled softly from outside the hut, making Hilda glance in his direction to check on the beast. He was scratching the ground, lifting some dirt with his claws, his growls soft and persistent. Hilda sighed, knowing what that meant: her dragon was seeking her attention, and guessing by the urgency of his pawing, her help too. She walked towards the door, a bit groggy from the tiredness and with her towel on her head, awkwardly sitting on the top of her ruffled hair.

“What's wrong, big guy?” Hilda inquired as she knelt down, knowing that her dragon preferred it when they were at the same eye level. Boreas growled once more and shook without previous warning, spraying Hilda’s face with a cascade of drops of water. She tried to raise her hands and cover herself, yet the dragon had been too quick, and her reflexes were rather slow after the long day. She sighed, giving Boreas a bit of a glare. “What was that for?”, the young healer asked as she dried her face off with her towel. The dragon roared now, as if impatient, and Hilda merely stared at him, blinking. It took her longer than she cared to admit to notice what the issue was. Right, the water. Boreas didn't like being wet. In fact, the woolly howl despised water. Hilda had observed a similar reaction to water coming from other snow dragons, and with Hiccup they had hypothesized that it was in their nature to avoid big bodies of water. After all, it wasn't the same to swim in a lake with lukewarm water than one with freezing temperatures, the latter much more common in these dragons’ habitats. A self-preservation instinct buried in their blood, one that prevented those animals from trying to swim in cold water and dying trapped underneath a layer of ice or frozen to death. If Boreas had been a wild dragon, Hilda would have applauded this system. But given he no longer lived in those snowy and desolate mountains they had first met at, his rider found this quirk of his rather annoying. Of course, she didn't blame him for it. It was nature at its finest, and at least the dragon was kind enough to let her bathe him once or twice a year. That was something. But now, soaked in the rain’s water and cold from the chilly air of the night, the dragon looked at her with pleading eyes.

“I get it, I get it. Let's get you dry again”, Hilda murmured and petted his snout with care as she thought of the most efficient way to go about this. They had a big enough hearth of sorts in the clubhouse, but firing it up would probably catch the attention of Fishlegs, who was on watch duty at the moment, and it would have been awfully suspicious of her to show up at those hours of the night with a soaked dragon and no reasonable explanation that didn’t involve secretly flying off in the middle of the night. Starting a campfire right there, then? The rider surveyed her surroundings with a thoughtful expression, only to dismiss the idea. It would take too long to gather the necessary materials to craft a bonfire big enough to dry her dragon, and given Borea's inability to breathe fire, it would take her even longer to light the whole thing up. She glanced back at her dragon, her brows furrowed in thought and later in worry. It was clear the beast was uncomfortable, something that Hilda didn’t appreciate, even less given she knew she could help him. So, keeping a tired sigh to herself, she went inside her hut once more and rummaged through her things until she found a few more towels. “Alright, you big ball of fur, time for… whatever the opposite of a bath is”. The dragon huffed, throwing some of his icy breath at Hilda. “Yeah, well, you try to be funny when you are this tired. Now shut it, mister, and collaborate with me here”

The young healer kneeled down, her dragon begrudgingly laying on the grass as well, and she started drying him as gently as she could. She knew Boreas loathed the feeling of towels, scratchy and uncomfortable, but there was no other way to do it. At least, no one that Hilda’s exhausted mind could come up with. Fighting off a yawn, she felt her eyelids growing heavy, yet she persisted. The smell that reached her nostrils as she shook the dragon’s fur wasn’t anything pleasant either, an unpleasant scent that wafted to her nose, a musky and sweaty blend reminiscent of a Viking long overdue for a bath. But she kept going. Amused, she noticed how, as she dried some portions of his fur, the hair became ruffled and fluffed up, which her dragon didn’t appreciate as much. She untangled some strands of fur with her fingers, careful not to hurt the dragon, and combed his hide to keep it nice and tidy. Without noticing, she began humming a song as she worked, a soft melody that seemed to soothe Boreas, who lowered his head upon his front paws and calmly swayed his tail from side to side. The lazy beast could be grumpy at times, but Hilda had learnt enough about his tells to know he was at peace then. With a smile and newfound strength, she continued her meticulous care, keeping up both the untangling and the drying.

It took a couple of hours—some of the most exhaustive, monotone hours she had gone through, but Boreas was finally dry. Well, not completely; his fur was still moist to the touch, but both rider and dragon were happy with the result. Plus, the young healer had taken the liberty to braid a section of his fur, and that along with how happy and comfortable Boreas looked now, made her feel like her efforts had been worth it.

Hilda’s gaze travelled upwards towards the night sky, wondering how many hours of sleep she had left to enjoy, and maybe entertaining the thought of hiding in the edge’s cave system just to sleep in and avoid Hiccup’s inevitable scolding once he found her. A gentle touch on her hand brought her back to earth, and a warm smile tugged at her lips as she saw her dragon’s snout bumping into her palm. Hilda let out a tired, yet pleased yawn. “Good night, big guy”, she mumbled as she lay down on the grass. Boreas curled up around her, his fluffy and soft fur providing shelter from the biting cold. The dragon’s purring filled the night as he, too, drifted to sleep, closing his eyes. “I love you too”, Hilda mumbled back as sleep enveloped her in its gentle embrace.

. So being the incredibly smart person that I am I forgot to post day 3 here. I swear I'm usually not this forgetful, but uni is kicking my ass repeatedly and finals haven't even started

Anyway, gonna leave this one here! I had fun writing this one and figuring out some creative ways to introduce woolly howl's abilities and nice synergies with a rider that needs different means of defense rather than regular fighting

Day 3: Full of Colors

“You want me to do what?” Hilda asked while glaring at the dragon rider’s leader.

“It’d be a pretty simple mission, just-” Hiccup tried to reason.

“You want me to retrieve changewing acid. With the twins.” The healer crossed her arms, her glaring not getting any better.

“Well, when you put it like that…” the young berkian rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes moving away. “Look, we need more acid soon or our supplies won’t last. And, you and the twins are the only ones available for the job right now.”

Hilda sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Boreas, right behind her, merely glanced at the two riders lazily as he rested on the ground, one eye open.

“Can’t Snotlout do it?”

“I need him and Hookfang at the forge, Fishlegs has decoded another part of the dragon eye and-” Hilda raised a hand and stopped him before he started info dumping on her about the dragon eye and all there was to it.

“What about Astrid then? Stormfly and her are far more capable than me when it comes to tracking down dragons” she protested, begging to any god that would listen to save her from that not-so-appealing task.

“She is out with Heather, scouting the nearby islands.” When Hiccup saw Hilda’s mood wasn’t improving, he sighed “Look, I wouldn’t send you out on a mission like this if I didn’t have to. I’m aware Boreas isn’t the best dragon to send out against acid-spilling dragons,” the woolly howl huffed annoyed by the comment, icy wind coming out of its snout “and given what Fishlegs has in mind for the dragon eye… Let’s just say that not having a healer around is probably not the best case scenario. But, we do need the acid, and fast.”

Rationally, Hilda knew that Hiccup was right. That didn’t mean she liked the idea, though. Going out to chase changewings and collect their acid was a tough job on its own, but going with the twins on top of that? She didn’t have anything against them—if anything, they were on rather good terms as long as they didn’t pull any pranks on her. Not to mention, their zippleback gas made the task of finding camouflaged changewings much easier. Yet she knew that mixing those Loki worshippers with acid-spewing dragons and a lack of supervision from someone who could actually infuse some sense into them, would lead to an absolute disaster.

Hilda wasn’t one to complain about her tasks, even if she disliked them. She usually just sighed internally, stayed quiet, and did whatever she had to. But this time she just didn’t have the energy to play along and keep her head down. Of course, it wasn’t like Hiccup knew. What was she going to say? “Sorry I can’t go, I stayed up late working on some antidotes and unguents for the guy we are at war with and his men”? It was hard enough as is to hide her morally-questionable activities from the others, and she already suspected that Heather wasn’t quite sold on her act; refusing to go on expeditions without apparent reason wouldn’t help her cause.

Begrudgingly, the healer mumbled an affirmative that brough some piece to Hiccup, and with a hand gesture she called for her dragon to go with her. They’d need to bring some supplies to the expedition, and if she was going to visit changewing island she figured she’d at least take advantage of the trip as much as she could. Back in her hut, she hid any suspicious documents in her personal chest before preparing her bag and belt. Bottles, a water skin, some gloves, scissors… She yawned as she closed the bag, now with everything she needed (and could find) inside.

“Let’s get this over with, big guy” Hilda set her saddle on Borea’s back, the dragon staying still and letting her rider prepare him for the flight.

“Aw, haven’t started and already want it to end? Hildi, you wound us” a very familiar voice said from the roof of her hut.

“Aren’t you excited? We gong to a changewing hunt!” another one added with enough excitment for the three of them.

“It’s not that chasing around changewings and collecting their acid isn’t my favourite activity of all time…” Hilda replied without looking up, fastening the belt of the saddle “but some of us do have more important things to deal with”

“Like sleep?” the twins flew down to the ground on their zippleback, Barf and Belch greeting Boreas with a playful chirping that her dragon returned with a soft growl. “You look like shit” Ruffnut pointed out.

“Yeah well, that is pretty high up in my priority list, but no” she stifled a yawn and got up on the woolly howl’s saddle. “I’m working on something a bit stronger for Hiccup’s pain, and I need to perfect the dosage”

“Has anyone told you you work too much?” there was a hint of worry in Tuffnut’s voice, which made Hilda smile a bit and forget about her grumpy attitude. It was sweet of them to care, even if she knew there was little to nothing they could do to help her.

“Some times. Now, lead the way. The sooner we get there the sooner I came come back to my desk” The twins did a mocking salute and took off, Boreas following closely.

Thankfully the island wasn’t too far from Dragon’s Edge. And thankfully, there wasn’t any trace of hunter activity. The riders landed on a more secluded section of the island, following Hiccup’s advice to avoid entering changewing territory right away and instead sneaking up on them. The male twin had been whining about the procedure, saying it wasn’t as fun as immediately landing in between a flock, but his sister kept him in check.

Once on land, the real work began.

“Booooooriiiiiing” Tuffnut complained, making Hilda’s irritation grow.

The search for a changewing proved to be harder than usual for some reason. They had followed all the usual steps: look for signs of acid markings, clawing, or discarded scales. If none or few of the usual signs were visible, like in their case, go to the nearest water supply and wait for the dragon to approach the area. Which was what they were forced to do, much to the twins demise. It was a boring, long, and absolutely dreadful process that wore Hilda’s patience thinner and thinner with every passing minute and every comment one of the twins made. The healer tried to pass the time by looking at the few pieces of evidence they had left, wondering why this was happening. It was far too early for that. The twins, back when they were still acting a little bit sane and the lookout had barely begun, had suggested that maybe it had been the hunters’ doing, but Hilda knew that couldn’t be it. Viggo and his men were exploring other locations from what she recalled—their last meeting had been to the west, and from the quick glance she took of the base when she was flying with her dragon, she knew it wasn’t likely they had changed settlements so quickly. Besides, if the hunters had been there, they would have left more than enough traces for the riders to notice later. The twins discarded the theory as she shared her second point, and that’s where the ideas stopped.

“Where in the Hels are they?” Hilda mumbled as she sat back against Boreas, the woolly howl seemingly just as bored out of his mind as the everyone else.

“Beats me” Ruffnut shrugged “Do you have any nerd notes?”

The healer reached into her bag and searched for her the papers she had brought along. She knew they had to be there… Ah, there. A bit wrinkled, but no matter. Fishlegs had prepared plenty of papers with information about different kind of dragons, and as they explored more nearby islands, he added more information regarding specific flocks and what information they had gathered about them. The card format wasn’t big enough to fit all the boy wanted to write down, so instead they switched to using bigger pieces of lose paper, usually available for everyone at the clubhouse. Hilda had made a point to pick up the ones that had anything on the flock that lived in that island, the “tamest” changewings they had encountered yet. She yawned as she scanned the papers, searching for anything that could help locate the dragons.

“21 dragons total, blah blah blah, diet consists of I don’t care… Here!” Hilda pointed at a line from the paper, both twins leaning in to look at the section. “Fishlegs mentions that this specific flock has been seen around a cave in the west side of the area, some members using it as a den to sleep. I mean, changewings aren’t really known for living in dark places, but it’s either cave time or…” she looked around, the river flowing calmly without barely making a sound, no creature but the three of them and their dragons to be seen.

“Cave time it is!” Tuffnut announced as he jumped up, leaving behind his sluggish attitude and bringing back his more energetic side.

Locating the cave wasn’t too hard, given the size of the island. The twins seemed more determined than ever to find the changewings, probably just as desperate to get the mission done as she was. They hadn’t explored the inside of the cave in their first scouting, given they had never had the dying wish of being in a strange closed space surrounded by acidic dragons… But desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, Hilda had come prepared. Once they had checked there were no changewings around the mouth of the cave—zippleback gas proved incredibly useful to spot these dragons even when they were fully hidden, the woolly howl landed softly on the ground, as quietly as possible. The twins landed behind him, looking confused as Hilda rummaged through her bottles.

“Uh… what are you doing?” Belch’s head leaned on her left side, letting its rider look over Hilda’s bottle.

“Gonna heal them to death?” Barf’s leaned on her right, the other twin joining in “Oh oh, are we throwing bottles at them?”

“I was thinking more like…” Hilda found the bottle full of the powder she was searching “induced nap time”

Carefully, Hilda opened the bottle with a pop before sprinkling them on a piece of cloth, slightly damp to make sure the spores would stick but not so much so they would get stuck. She had been toying with the idea for a while, but hadn’t properly tested it quite yet. At least, not in this scale. Following Fishleg’s maps, the cave’s airflow system’s main entrance was that same entrance, which meant this could work. Or at least Hilda hoped it would.

“Alright big boy, let’s do this. Just like we practiced”

Hilda set the cloth over Boreas’ snout, right after the dragon inhaled deeply. Then, the dragon breathed out. Woolly howls had the curious ability to create mist at will if they had a good enough control over their icy breath. Her rider wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but it was similar to how other dragons could hold their breath to light up the dragon eye. Boreas let out a strong, icy wind, that soon turned into a heavy mist, spreading deep into the cave. With the cloth on front of his mouth, the mist had a pale purple tone, with what Hilda hoped was enough dosage to affect whatever dragons resided in the cave. The twins observed the process as the dragon did it a few more times, a hint of curiosity and mischievousness in their eyes. Their friend was sure their heads were already coming up with multiple ways to use this new trick in their pranks.

“…So how do we know if it worked?” Tuffnut asked after a few minutes of nothing much happening.

Hilda was about to answer, but then she hesitated. She hadn’t though about that.

“Want to do the honors?” She asked the Thorstons twins, putting a smile on their faces.

Before she had the chance to regret it, Barf and Belch was already flying past them. Hilda sighed and looked at her dragon, who just huffed in what probably was mild disappointment. “I spent all day watching a river flow, then breathed some air, and now they get the exciting part?” his rider felt like she could read her dragon’s thoughts “I’m never coming to other mission”, he probably grumbled in his mind. Thankfully they didn’t need to wait more, and instead the twins voices resonated through the cave walls.

“YOU GOTTA COME HERE!” the twins shouted.

The healer didn’t know if that was a good news shout or a bad news one. Either way, she got on Boreas’ saddle and the dragon immediately took off, dashing through the increasingly darker cave with great agility. Hilda worried that the darkness would be too much at some point and they’d get lost. But then, she saw something. Hard to notice at first, mere shadows that moved as they flew past, she guessed, yet those turned to be the complete opposite. Bright, colorful splashes of color, hitting the rocks and ceiling of the cave. It made no sense. There was no other entryway, and even if somehow sunlight managed to get in, why were the lights so colorful?

Hilda didn’t need to wait too long to find out. Boreas stopped as they reached the room where the twins were waiting for them. It was beautiful. The changewings were indeed living inside the cave, much calmer about intruders than they had ever been. Some walked around and gently sniffed the newcomers, others simply returned to their naps or crawled around without giving them a second thought. That, Hilda had expected. What she wasn’t ready to see, however, was the nest. There was a section of the cave that turned into a small lake of sorts, probably a deviation from the river above ground that found its way into the subsuelo. But right in the middle, there was a piece of land. A small circle, covered in acid and with eggs resting on top, as if the acidic bed somehow made it a safe place to set them.

“Are those… changewing eggs?” Hilda asked in awe.

The twins were looking at the nest just as amazed as she was—changewing eggs had the fun characterictic of having some sort of recubrimiento that made them glow, as if surrounded by an actual ever-changing changewing’s coat. That, along with the acid and the water, made it so the small light that came from the eggs reflected on both superficies, illuminating the room with a mesmerizing show of lights and colors.

“Forget the nest, why aren’t we dead already?” asked Tuffnut after a few seconds of just staring at their surroundings.

“Oh, right. I made an extract from those fruits Mala used on our dragons once, the ones that calms them down. I thought if Boreas could spread it with his mist to reach these guys, we’d be good to go. …I actually hoped I had added enough to make them sleepy since in larger quantities it can be used as a dragon somnifero, but, this works too” she shrugged non-chalantly, even if inside she felt so incredibly proud that her idea had worked “But, we should still try to collect the acid as soon as possible. I don’t know how long these effects will last”

With that said, the three of them got to work, collecting multiple vials and bottles of acid that the changewings so kindly donated in their drugged state. Once they were done, even if they all knew the sooner they left the better, Hilda couldn’t help but stare at their colorful surroundings once more. Beautiful was far too little to describe the scene. She smiled, knowing Hiccup and Fishlegs would get consumed by jealousy when they heard, and got on her dragon.

I'm no longer gonna bring up the fact that I'm late to these things because I'm starting to realize there's no way I can catch up sweats

BUT! Day 7 is here! Almost 7 days late to make it more poetic

I think the reason this one took me so long, besides getting a god-awful assignment, was that I had no clue what to do with this prompt. But alas, here it is (also I'm trying out different ways to post my writing in here so if you see me messing around with the posts formats, yeah Idk what I'm doing but I'm trying my best)

Day 7: Chestnuts

Fandom: How To Train Your Dragon

Summary: Hilda and Boreas go out into the forest to pick up chestnuts for Gothi, and the dragon worries about her rider's bottled up feelings.

Rating: Teens and Up Audiences

TW: Implied self-harm

Words: 2,100

Characters: Hilda Hávarðr (OC), Boreas (OC)

Boreas growled as he found another one, and her rider crouched next to him to examine the find. The burr was mostly brown yet had a soft green hue that hadn’t quite gone away yet. That and the fact that the nut itself peeked from underneath the spiky coat meant it was good enough to pick up. She carefully grabbed it and placed it into her basket along with the other chestnuts they had gathered.

“Good job, big boy. I’m sure Gothi will appreciate your help.” Hilda praised him as she petted her dragon’s neck, making the beast purr softly.

Raising to her feet, she brushed off the bits of dirt that had gotten on her pants and readjusted her coat. This year’s autumn was proving colder than usual, the wind taking advantage of any little entryway left in her oversized clothes to make her shiver. At least it wasn’t so bad as pure winter, when the cold made her suffer from a constantly stuffy and runny nose, and she couldn’t smell anything at all. Now, she felt some sort of relief as she caught the gentle, earthy tones of humid dirt that carried the air and reminded her of autumn.

Despite the persistent pain in her knee — always present right before and after heavy rains — she continued walking through the uneven terrain, her eyes peeled in search of more chestnuts to harvest. Gothi had sent her apprentice in a search for them; something about how they were helpful in remedies against inflammation or even digestive problems, though Hilda had the feeling the old lady just wanted an excuse to enjoy the sweetness they offered when toasted. Regardless of the reason, she had accepted the task, as usual. And as usual, she was stuck now with a dull and time-consuming chore, yet she couldn’t complain.

The young healer sighed as she grabbed another handful of chestnuts, always making sure they were ripe and not the toxic horse chestnuts —if she picked those up by accident, Gothi and her would be more than busy for the next days, given their poisonous properties. 

Boreas didn’t seem enthusiastic about the job either; then again, the woolly howl had a tendency to find many activities boring if they forced him to do something rather than nap and be lazy all day. But he was still there with her, something she appreciated greatly.

The wind picked up unexpectedly, a sharp swoosh breaking the stillness of the forest and making many trees shake and some more chestnuts and leaves fall, Hilda’s scarf swinging along in the direction of the sudden gust. She looked up, only to spot the black and red tailfins of a familiar night fury and another four dragons following closely. The distant laughter of the gang of teenagers carried on the breeze, fading as they soared past the forest'. Her gaze lingered up in the sky for a bit too long, snapping back from her thoughts only as her dragon gently headbutted her side. She smiled gently, giving Boreas a few pats on his head. 

“Let’s keep going, okay?” Her dragon huffed, letting out some mist out of his nostrils. She knew he didn’t approve of her dismissal. Hilda sighed. 

“Come on, we have barely filled this one basket, and we still have two more to go.” 

In protest, Boreas shot some cold air to his rider’s face, freezing the tips of her hair. She flicked it off and rolled her eyes at the beast. She knew where he was going with this, and she knew he was more stubborn than her. 

“Really, now? Can we not?” The dragon’s stare said more than words could. As usual, Hilda was the one to give in. “Fine, you win, you big ball of fur. But we are picking up more of these, too.” She insisted, grabbing another chestnut and tossing it into the basket.

The woolly howl followed, seemingly content with the deal, and looked at her rider expectantly. 

“I don’t even know what you want me to say.” she knelt down, examining the coat of a chestnut that had fallen into a pile of leaves. It looked rounder than the others, and as she tried to peel it she felt it was more complicated, too. Hilda left it on the ground, knowing it was a horse chestnut. “That I kind of wish I could be up there with them and fly around and have fun little adventures?” she huffed. “Sure, yeah, I guess I do. So what? Look at them. They are heroes. They are brave, strong, smart, capable, and they have done so much good for Berk. I almost died the one time I tried to do something by myself. They’ve earned it. I haven’t.”

Hilda’s voice didn’t hold resentment or judgment. Perhaps a twinge of jealousy, but deep down, she knew that would always be there, just as someone envies the friend with a prettier face or the neighbour with bigger muscles. Her tone did show frustration, however. Maybe at them, maybe at herself, but it was there. Boreas snarled, showing disagreement, and his rider let out a dry chuckle as she turned to face him. 

“What? You know it’s true. I mean, come on, do you seriously think I’d fit in there with them? I’m not strong; I’m not a warrior. I’m not brave either. The only thing I got is brains, and even then I’m probably dumber than Snotlout when push comes to shove. All I’ve done, all I’ve achieved, it was dumb luck or just a happy little accident. Fishlegs would have made for a better healer and Astrid would have made for a better Hávarðr and you would be better off with Ebba than with the mess that her big sister is. The hunters were right. I’m nothing if not a little mouse who sticks her nose where she shouldn’t. I could barely heal my little sister, and Hiccup is more capable with one missing leg than I am with an annoying but functional one. I’m not fit to be a Viking or a healer; I’m not made to be a Hávarðr, let alone a rider!”

The forest fell into a deep silence; the only sound to be heard was the wind gently brushing the ochre-coloured leaves now that both the girl and the dragon had stopped walking. The beast’s once challenging look had now softened into an almost pitiful glance. Hilda returned the look to her dragon, refusing to let any tears fall. He didn’t move, still not used to her outbursts, and neither did she. It hadn’t been the first one, far from it. She tended to bottle up everything she felt like it until she was too far gone and finally exploded. Sometimes, it manifested as anger that took out on herself, physically or verbally. Others, she sobbed herself to sleep. 

But there was something that had changed. 

Boreas took a step closer and nudged her stomach with his head. He purred and looked up at her, and despite not being able to communicate with her with words, Hilda felt a tender, soft feeling in her chest. It wasn’t the words that mattered to her. It was the fact that he was still there despite it all. 

He had met her at her lowest point, tricked by dragon hunters because of her childish naivety and unable to fend for herself, yet somehow determined to keep living and make it back to Berk, if only to heal her sister. And now, almost a year later, he was still there. He had seen her ups and lows —her laughter and tears, her relentless determination that made her work harder than she would ever admit, her glances at others with a hint of jealousy for fitting in so nicely while she fought to keep her place in the tribe, and the constant shadow of dread that loomed over her as if she was a fraud about to get caught at any moment. She had tried so hard for years but barely got anywhere. Even Hiccup, who she once considered her equal, was now seen in a new light and a true Viking. Because he was a hero and had earned his place in the village. 

Boreas, the beast that had spared her life, whether out of pity or compassion, had been there for her more than any of the Vikings she had known and helped all her life. He didn’t need her. He had no reason to stay. Yet he did. She was enough for him. 

Overwhelmed by her bottled-up emotions, Hilda crumbled into tears and fell to her knees to hug her dragon, clinging to his fur as if she was scared he’d fly away any moment now. The beast remained quiet, nuzzling his head against her cheek, tenderly brushing away the tears that fell down her face. The basket of chestnuts lay abandoned on the ground, quickly forgotten as the young healer found solace in her dragon’s company. She wasn’t a Viking, or a rider, or fit in in her own village, and her dragon didn’t care. She was Hilda, and that was enough. 

Boreas slept soundly next to her bed, the hut filled with a serene quietness no one dared disturb at those hours of the night. Hilda was the only one still awake by then, at least in her home, where everyone else had fallen asleep long ago. Her eyelids grew heavier with every passing minute, yet she remained seated on her chair, her eyes unmoving from the piece of paper in front of her. 

It had been months now since she last saw the dragon hunters, their territory far too remote from Berk to cross paths once more, yet her mind still toyed with the old offer. “Your tribe must hold you in high regard”, he had said, his hand shifting the hunter piece to face one of her own, “you seem like one skilled healer”. He had won the maces and talons game with a move she could have never seen coming, and had later let her walk into his brother’s trap, not bothering to stop her. Yet Viggo had warned her. In his own subtle way, the businessman had seen something in her and had given her a chance to free herself from that situation, an act of mercy or perhaps still part of his sick mind games. “Imagine the heights you could reach if only your people trusted you more. There is a world of wonders and knowledge for you to explore out there, little mouse. And I can provide it, if you so wish.” She knew he was deceiving, a cunning man with a silver tongue, someone who could sell sand in a desert. But she was curious. And she wanted to do more. She wanted to show everyone just how capable she was. She wanted everyone to notice that same side of her that her dragon and that dragon hunter had seen. 

Her eyes wandered towards her window, meeting the sight of the glorious meade hall, the pride and joy of Berk, the heart of the village. It was a place of unity and celebration, where everyone met and celebrated significant events and festivities, where the chief listened to his people and did his best to aid them. It was also where Hilda’s plan to heal Ebba had been turned down by her own and she had been forced to rely on no one but herself to save her sister from death’s grasp. Despite it all, the healer wanted to help them. She wanted to show she was worthy of their praise and attention, yes, but above all she just wanted everyone to be happy. She wanted to help Berk grow into something better. 

Stoick would have never agreed to her proposal of working with dragon hunters, potentially perilous enemies that went against Berk’s new values and morals. So she didn’t ask for permission. Hilda finished the letter she had been writing, the charcoal moving swiftly on the scroll, before she paused to consider her choice. Maybe the offer didn’t stand any longer after she had not only managed to escape the trap, but also get away with the very same dragon the hunters meant to keep. Maybe it had been too long already and the deal Viggo had once proposed to her was no longer available. Yet she secured the scroll close and prepared it to be sent to the northern markets the following day.

She would help Berk and earn their respect, no matter the cost.