Chapter Text
Viggo paced back and forth through his tent. He had several operations that were imperative, and if a single one failed, the whole plan would collapse. They were spaced far enough apart and put under such wraps that only his most trusted operatives knew locations and details.
But Hiccup Haddock had such a nose for sniffing out these sorts of things.
The idea of just killing Hiccup and the riders crossed his mind, but it was a rather messy solution, considering he was the heir to Berk and they had many vicious allies. No, killing Hiccup would make more of a problem. And it was rather unsportsmanlike.
He just needed to get him out of the way for a little while. Occupy him with something that would remove him from the equation. No poisons, no traps, nothing that the Riders would come to him about to find a solution.
It was time to call in the big guns.
“Viggo, your guest has arrived,” said Ryker, parting the tent doorway.
“Send him in.”
Ryker beckoned, and a man entered. He wore a white cloak that covered his face. He held a wooden staff made of twisted roots.
“Hunter,” the man said. “Why have you summoned me?”
“I have a business proposition for you, druid.”
“I have no interest in gold.”
“No, of course you don’t. But you are interested in the skins of a changewing, aren’t you? Invaluable to your people?” He held up a sack and shook.
“I see you’ve done your research. Very well, what favors can I fulfill to receive such a prize?”
Viggo smiled. “There’s a young viking and his dragon riders that have been causing a disruption to our operations. Killing him is out of the question. But I have heard you and your people know a spell that is able to return a creature’s body to a younger age.”
“My, you really have done your research. Yes, it is true, we are much older than we seem, as the spell returns the body to a younger age, but not the mind. Are you looking to extend your lifespan?”
He shook his head. “Not me, but my adversary. He’s young already. What would your spell do to him, if he was…say, 18 years of age?”
The druid smiled.
—-
“Alright Fishlegs, recap for those who weren’t paying attention.”
“So everyone,” said Astrid.
“We intercepted a Terror Mail sent between Viggo’s men. The code name is ‘Fountain of Youth’ and we’re not exactly sure what’s being conducted there.”
“But if it’s Viggo, it’s bad news,” Snotlout figured. “Got it. Get in, blast it to kingdom come, and scoot.”
“No,” said Hiccup. “This is a scouting mission. Snotlout and Twins will stay back and wait. If we’re discovered, I’ll send a distress signal. At that point, yes you can blast it and scoot.”
The twins high fived.
“Astrid, Heather, Fishlegs, and I will split up and observe, trying to find an objective. What is Viggo’s goal here? And are any dragons in danger? At minimum, we release any captive dragons we find. Everyone understand?”
“Wait, so are we blasting before we release the dragons? Or after?” Tuffnut asked.
“Take a guess,” said Hiccup, flatly.
After a moment, Tuffnut narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a fan of your trick questions, H.”
Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Don’t blast until you see my signal.”
“Got it, don’t blast until we see the white’s of your fire.”
“Whatever.”
“Island on the horizon.” Astrid pointed.
“Looks pretty small. Alright, Heather, approach from the North. Astrid, from the South. Fishlegs has the East and I’ll take the West.”
“Uh, Hiccup?” Heather pointed as the island got closer. “I don’t think we’ll have to scout much.”
He took his spyglass and looked where she was pointing. Up above the camp of hunters were six pillars. Each one had a Whispering Death chained to it. “Oh my Thor…those are Whispering Deaths…”
“What are they doing?”
“I don’t know, but those dragons aren’t able to burrow back into the ground. They’re incredibly vulnerable and they hate the sunlight.”
“They look like they’re being used as bait,” observed Astrid.
“Bait for what?” Asked Snotlout.
“I couldn’t begin to know. The Screaming Death, maybe? Either way, we’re setting those dragons free. The pillars look like they’re made of wood. Everyone take one and we’ll regroup to see if we need to hit them again.”
“So we are blasting and scooting this time?” Tuff asked. “You can’t just change the plans!”
“I can, actually,” Hiccup offered.
They flew closer, aiming right for the Whispering Deaths. Right as they approached, the false rock floor disappeared, having been a cloth. Viggo and another cloaked man were there, waiting.
“They were baiting us!” Hiccup shouted in horror.
“Now!” Viggo pointed right at Hiccup.
The cloaked man raised and pointed his staff at Hiccup. Then he shouted in a voice that echoed, “Tóid sa chéin chul!”
His very voice seemed to distort the air around him, and created a shimmering ripple that travelled up and enveloped Hiccup and Toothless. The shockwave sent them tumbling through the air before Toothless extended his wings and caught them.
“Hiccup!” Astrid yelled.
“I’m fine!”
“Perhaps for now,” called Viggo.
The cloaked man waved his hands and slammed the base of his staff into the ground. Huge plumes of smoke swallowed the ground, covering everything.
“What the—?”
Then, the smoke cleared, and they were gone. All the hunters, Viggo, the strange man, everything except the Whispering Deaths had disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“Uh, what was that?!” Snotlout shouted.
“Are you okay, Hiccup?” Astrid flew closer to him to look.
“I think so.” He held up his hands. “I’m not green or anything, am I?”
“You look normal to me, but Viggo said you’d be fine ‘for now’. I think we need to get back to the Edge and prepare for the worst.”
“Good idea. Let’s free these Whispering Deaths, and then we’ll go.”
“No,” Astrid insisted. “They’ll free them, you and I are going back now.”
Hiccup wanted to protest, but with the unknown hanging over him, he didn’t want whatever that man did to kick in while they were flying. “Okay, you win. We’ll meet you all back at the Edge!”
As they travelled, Astrid kept a close eye on Hiccup. He seemed normal, acted normal.
“What do you think that was?” Astrid asked.
“Well,” Hiccup considered. “I think he may have cast a spell on me.”
“What? Like magic? Like real magic?”
“Yeah…he looked like a Druid.”
“What’s a Druid?”
“They’re an order of religious priests. They worship nature and a different pantheon of gods. Some books describe them as mages and able to harness the life of people they sacrifice to cast spells.”
“And Viggo has aligned himself with someone like that?”
“I suppose so. But I can’t begin to guess what that spell was supposed to do, if it even did anything.”
“You feel fine?”
“Honestly, a little light-headed and nauseous.”
“I’m sending a Terror Mail to Berk as soon as we get back,” Astrid said firmly.
“Gothi might know. She was the one who had the notes on the Druids. I’m…I’m kinda glad Fishlegs went through that phase where he was obsessed with the other religions in the area. Or else I wouldn’t have any idea what that was.”
“I bet Viggo’s banking on the idea that we don’t know.”
“He thinks all Vikings are barbaric savages. I bet he’s counting on it.”
Astrid tried to keep Hiccup talking as they flew. But as they got closer and closer to the Edge, she saw his eyes drooping more and more. Toothless too. His wing flaps became slower and slower.
“Come on you two!” She yelled, watching in horror as Toothless started to dip.
Hiccup righted him a second later. “She’s right…I know you’re fading. But we’re close. Just a little further…”
Stormfly didn’t like the rapidly changing altitudes Toothless was cycling through, and flew above them and took hold of Toothless’ sides with her talons. This kept Toothless in the air just long enough to land in front of Hiccup’s hut. Though it was a rough landing.
Hiccup was barely conscious and slid off the saddle and into Astrid’s arms. “I gotcha.”
“So…weak…” he groaned. “I feel…sick…”
“Do you need to throw up?”
He shook his head weakly.
She carried him back into his hut, while Toothless followed in slow steps. She took him up the stairs and laid him in bed. His eyes were closed, and he breathed deeply.
Astrid gnawed on her lip, considering, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Ast…rid…?” He murmured, blinking up at her. “Wh…what?”
“Sorry, I thought…sometimes kisses are supposed to help with spells, aren’t they?”
He reached his hand out for hers and held it, squeezing as much as his muscles would allow. “It was…worth a shot…”
Seeing Hiccup so weak brought out a tender side of Astrid. One that felt profoundly loving. She gently removed his armor, and then pulled the blanket up over him. “You just rest, okay? I’ll send a Terror to Berk. I’ll come check on you around dinner time.”
“Thank you…for everything.”
Toothless let out his own weak warble as he damn near collapsed on his slate, not bothering to warm it up first.
She wanted to stay with him, watch him sleep, make sure he didn’t stop breathing, but writing to Berk was more important.
So she swiftly kissed his forehead, pretending like it was totally casual between friends, before leaving his hut to go to the clubhouse.
—
Need Gothi’s expertise. There’s a chance Viggo has enlisted the help of a Druid. A man in a white robe seemingly cast a spell at Hiccup. He has fallen extremely weak. Other effects are not yet known, writing as soon as we returned to the Edge.
-Astrid
—
It took Astrid longer than she would have liked to wrangle a Terror to send to Berk. But then again, the twins had been training with them earlier, so it was no surprise that they were awol.
By time she returned to base, everyone was back and just dismounting their dragons.
“How’s Hiccup?” Fishlegs asked.
“Weak. Toothless too. He’s resting in his hut.”
“Astrid, I think that was a Druid,” he began.
“That’s what Hiccup said. He thinks that man cast some sort of spell on him.”
“Well A,” Tuffnut snapped his fingers. “Better get to smooching!”
“That’s only in books,” Snotlout rolled his eyes.
“And uh…I already tried it.” Astrid held her arm awkwardly.
The others stood in shocked silence for a few moments, before smiling at her, knowingly.
“Oh yuck it up!” She snapped. “It was worth a try!”
“Guess it’s just not true love,” said Snotlout. “And if that’s the case…”
Astrid punched him in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. “Stop joking around! Hiccup is out of commission, so is Toothless. We need to be prepared for the worst.”
“Uh, I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news,” began Fishlegs.
“Then don’t say anything,” said Snotlout.
Fishlegs ignored him. “But Druids are known for human sacrifices! He may have—“
“Don’t finish that thought, Fish,” Astrid snipped. “I just sent a Terror to Berk. I was going to let Hiccup rest until dinner, but I guess it won’t hurt to just…make sure he’s still breathing.”
The group went together to Hiccup’s hut and quietly entered, to not disturb him.
Immediately, Astrid could tell something was wrong. Toothless looked a lot smaller than he did a half hour ago. She ran up the stairs, scared but fairly certain she knew what she’d find.
A small boy, swimming in a too-large red tunic. A mop of fluffy auburn hair on a chubby baby face. He slept soundly, eyelashes thick against his freckled cheeks.
Toothless, likewise, had been reduced in size and age. He was curled up on his slate, and looked about the size of a Night Terror.
Astrid stared in horror, as the rest of the riders gave a quiet ‘aww’.
Then Fishlegs and Heather snapped out of it and looked at Astrid with panic all over their faces.
“A toddler!” Snotlout whisper-shouted. “He’s a toddler!”
“I know!” Astrid responded, just as quietly. “You don’t think I can see that?” She came around the other side of the bed, letting everyone come closer, before she rested a hand on Little Hiccup’s shoulder and very gently shook him. “Hiccup.”
“Mmm?” He groaned, sleepily.
“Hiccup,” she said again. “Wake up.”
He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes, his hands covered by his sleeves. He sat up, bleary-eyed. The neck of his tunic fell off one shoulder.
“…Astwid?” He asked. At the sound of his voice, his eyes widened. He looked down and observed the way his clothes no longer fit him, and his prosthetic was all the way at the end of the bed.
He looked up at the rest of the riders with huge, sad green eyes welling up with tears and a heavy frown.
“Uh oh,” said Tuff. “Incoming!”
Hiccup inhaled, opening his mouth, as tears began to roll.
“Oh this is gonna be a big one,” Snotlout winced.
And he cried. A big, loud, heart-breaking cry. A scream of helplessness, of fear, of total loss.
Astrid couldn’t stand it. She wasn’t really that good with kids, but this was Hiccup. She scooped him up into her arms and held him, rubbing his back. He was so light.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”
He wrapped his arms around her neck and cried into her shoulder. “Sowwy! Sowwy!”
“Shhh, Hiccup, it’s okay.” She patted his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” She had one arm under his legs to hold him. From here, she could feel that his lower leg was still missing. It was an interesting detail, but she wasn’t quite sure what it meant.
It thankfully didn’t take too long to get him down to sniffles and she sat him back on the bed.
His crying had woken up Toothless, who cautiously approached the bed, eyes wide in curiosity. The dragon’s head was about the same size as his body, and his eyes were wide and curious. His little ear flaps were just rounded nubs. He yawned, baring tiny teeth, before hopping up on the bed and sniffing Hiccup.
The sight was extremely adorable.
Hiccup wiped at his face before placing his hand on Toothless’ snout. “It otay, Toobwiss.”
“More like Teef-less,” said Snotlout.
Astrid petted his hair soothingly. “How much do you remember?”
“Ebe’yting.” He pointed at her. “Youh Astwid, das Snotwout, Fisswegs, Heaber, Wuffnut an’ Tubnut!”
“Oh my heart would melt if this wasn’t terrible,” said Heather.
“Bee-go anna dwiud casted a spehwah on me,” he explained, nodding vigorously.
“‘Viggo and a Druid cast a spell on me’” Fishlegs translated. “I’m pretty sure that’s what he said, at least. I babysat my niece a lot back on Berk.”
“So how old do you reckon you are, H?” Asked Tuff.
“Um…maybe tree.” He held up three tiny fingers.
“You think you’re a tree?”
“No! Free!” He waved his hand up.
“Free from what? The tyranny of adulthood?”
“I said free!” He shrieked.
Fishlegs sighed. “Three, Tuff. He thinks he’s three. Some sounds are hard for little kids. Definitely the ‘Th’ sound. Sounds like Hiccup struggles with Ls and Rs.”
“Foh seberal yeawhs,” said Hiccup, frowning at how incomprehensible he was.
“And also ‘V’s.”
“‘For several years’, got it,” said Astrid.
“Say ‘Terrible Terror’,” demanded Tuff.
“Tehbobo Tewhoa,” Hiccup replied, only to frown afterwards.
Astrid tsked, then crossed her arms. “So, Hiccup’s mind in the body of a three year old? That’s what we’re working with?”
“It seems like he has the emotional maturity of a three year old too. He might just have our current Hiccup’s memories,” observed Fishlegs.
“Only one way to find out!” Said Tuff. “What’s six times three?”
Hiccup pouted before answering, “Um…eighteen?”
“Oh, so close, better luck next time!”
“Eighteen is the right answer, muttonhead,” Snotlout snarked.
“Oh. Maybe someone else should quiz him.”
“Let’s worry about that later. Right now, I need to send another Terror to Berk.”
“I’ll take care of it, if the Twins wrestle another Terror,” Snotlout shot them a look. “Little Hiccy needs some babysittin’ and I’m not that kind of guy.”
“I don’ need babensittin!” Hiccup protested.
“Sorry H, you’re way too cute, I can’t take you seriously.”
“I not toot!” He yelled, his eyes watering again as he pouted.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Astrid comforted as the three left his hut. “But you are rather adorable, Hiccup.”
“Ooh!” He lamented, burying his face in his hands.
“Well, without your leg and Toothless’ tailfin, I don’t think either of you are getting around much independently. And even though you shrunk, I think Toothless is still too small to carry you.”
Toothless, in response, curled up against Hiccup, and rested his head in his lap. Hiccup pet him with his little baby hands. “He’s da size of a Night Tewhoa.”
“Yeah, maybe a little bigger than Smidvarg.”
Hiccup frowned harder, his little mouth trembling. “Whadder we gonna do? I tant hewp wike dis.”
“Nor would we want you to go out when you’re so vulnerable,” Heather insisted.
“I already sent for Gothi. Hopefully it’s temporary.”
“What if it’s not? Astwid, whaddif I stuck fibteen years younder dan you duys?”
“Then you’re younger than us. We’ll figure it out. As we always have.”
“I fink imma try again.”
“Try what?”
Tears started rolling down his cheeks and he helplessly sobbed.
Oh ‘cry’. Sounded like he had trouble with the ‘k’ sounds too.
“Oh Hiccup…” she sighed.
He held his arms out, asking for a hug.
She picked him up again, holding him as he cried. It wasn’t a screaming sob like earlier, just weak moans and sniffles.
She stood, still holding him. “Alright, first thing we need to do is find you something to wear that fits. That tunic is a little too big for you.”
Mostly in the sleeves, as his hands were where his elbows would be. The bottom of the tunic almost came down to his ankles.
He sniffed. “Da test in da torner,” he pointed to the corner of the room.
“Oh, the chest in the corner,” said Fishlegs, going to it.
“I hab my owed gween tunit.”
“This?” Fishlegs held up the green tunic Hiccup used to wear before his growth spurt.
Hiccup held his hands out for it, making a grabby motion.
“Let me help—“ Fishlegs reached for him.
“I do it myself!” Hiccup demanded. “Down!”
“So demanding…” Astrid chuckled to herself. She set him on the floor where he could kneel and Fishlegs gave him the tunic.
Hiccup started to pull the red tunic off, when he realized the rest of his clothes were still on the bed. “I nated! Tun awound!”
“What?”
“He’s naked under there, and wants us to turn around.”
“Oh.” The girls sheepishly turned their backs to give the toddler some privacy, but Astrid wondered at what point he would realize he needed help, especially with his leg.
They listened as he huffed and grunted, wrestling with the clothes.
“You okay?” Astrid asked.
“Neber been so hawd to det dwessed!” Never been so hard to get dressed. Astrid was starting to understand some of his words.
“Otay!” He called.
The group turned around. He sat on the floor. The tunic was still too big, but at least it wasn’t a cocoon. The neck hole was just wide enough to not fall down, and the bottom came down to his knees. “Da sweebes awe too wong,” he waved his arms about, the sleeves flapping around.
“Yes, but not as bad.” Astrid knelt and rolled the sleeves up so he could use his hands. “I bet Snotlout would be able to put a couple stitches in here to hold them in place.”
“He not hewp.”
“I’ll make him,” Astrid said sternly. She knotted the ties at the neckline, tightening the shirt and keeping it in place. “He doesn’t mind sewing anyways. Come on, let's go to the clubhouse for now. Are you okay that we carry you until we get you a new leg?”
“I no wanna cwawah ebe’ywhoah.”
Astrid glanced at Fishlegs for translation.
Fishlegs had the mull that one over a second before answering, “he doesn’t want to crawl everywhere.”
“I didn’t think you did.” She scooped him up and placed him on her hip, as she had seen mothers do. “Is that comfortable?”
He nodded, holding onto the strap of her pauldrons. “Tum on, bud!” He called to Toothless.
The baby night fury pounced off the bed with a little wiggle, and staggered over to Astrid, likely disoriented by his new size.