The Queen and The Chief.

Losing track of time

Dear Merida
These past months in Berk have been nothing but a gelid nightmare. My people have no worries except those of healing their battle wounds, and days go by with gloom, slowly lurking through time.
Without you, honey is no longer sweet and water is not enough to calm my thirst. Yours is the name I mutter at night, hoping to see your face.
I miss you deeply and thoroughly. I miss your sarcastic laughter, your snorty giggles your boiling head and your deadly cold skin. I miss thy hairs of fire and thy dancing freckles.
And Toothless, my poor friend, he's the one who suffers the most. He calls for Thundercloud every night, wishing at least a glimpse of such a creature. Alas! I miss thy dragon, too.
Oh, do, do write me back, I beg thy majesty. The Terrible Horror will know how to find me, just give him a note!
In other news, Astrid and Eret are finally married, their bond not to be broken but in the very halls of Valhalla, although I do doubt you care at all of the business of the realms of gods you don't know. Then, I apologize for the names of the gods I don't know myself, dear Valkirie!
I will write you often, for yours are all my thoughts and all my hopes.
Yours truly and for ever,
Hiccup.
Ps; I hope Terrormail is of your liking, it is the fastest way of communication we have.

Hiccup and Merida hadn't seen each other in months. A lot had happened to the both of them during that time. Bitter nights and gloomy days in which hope seemed to be a pathetic joke. Berk had moved its entire population to a new island, in an attempt to both fit its growing population of both dragons and people, and to avoid greedy dragon hunters who saw the island as a never ending prize to collect. The new island received the Hairy Hooligan clan rather well, west bound, almost in the very edge of the archipelago. Most vikings were busy building their new houses, trying hard to resemble the former glory of old Berk.

The ever-so-depressed Hiccup sent the small dragon and closed his eyes. He felt tears knotting in his throat, but he held back with a bitter groan. He walked towards his dearest friend, Astrid the blonde. The woman was sharpening her axe, still wearing her betrothal cape over her shoulders, like snowy mountains.

"Astrid, what day is today? Is it winter or spring or summer? Is it autumn? Is this land other but mine?" He saluted, dramatically posing a hand over his forehead.

"It's spring, Hiccup. We are in new Berk, closer to Scotland than last Berk, the people and the dragons are still here and you've lost your mind" Said she, tossing her axe through the air as it landed in the centre of a red circle.

"Have I?" Asked him, fidgeting with objects that used to be of his attention. They were now only parts of his gloomy self. 

What was he to invent but stories of his long-lost lover?

"You have. Are you Hiccup Haddock or a talking fishbone?" She scoffed. "My, a poet fishbone!"

"Am I a good poet at the least?"

"You're terrible!" She joked.

Both stared at the other. Hiccup's thoughts wandered to and fro, thinking of the past months. Was he really as lost as he felt?

Astrid had never seen Hiccup so heartbroken, not even when they broke up, half a year ago. She felt somewhat responsible for the Chief's well-being. He had always been there for her when the world seemed to be against her, then why not do the same. All jokes aside, she worried about Hiccup, not being his natural self, she wanted her friend back.

"Hey" she pressed her hand against his shoulder pad. "Are you okay?"

"Sure." He lied. "It's Toothless who I'm worried about. He misses Thundercloud so much it's almost pathetic!"

Both friends continued what they were doing. Astrid picked up the axe from the target practice and threw it again, over and over. Meanwhile Hiccup tended some younger dragons. It seemed like work for a chief never ended. If he was honest with himsef, Hiccup hated being chief. Not only was it demanding and exhauating, but he felt unfit for the possition, and such thought was confirmed by many who doubted his decisions. The pressure of new dragon hunters knocking on Berk's doors every so often, the mysterious dissappearance of the Thortston twins, and the fact that, overall, he barely knew what he was doing, it all added up to the belief that there was no way he'd ever fit his father's shoes.

"You should probably go find Merida," Astrid suggested, worried about her friend's mental state.

He did not know that, but he wanted to hear that so long ago. He was almost asking for permission, and that was his queue. His spirit rose, almost soaring. 

He first waited for Merida's reply, which didn't take long, and both discussed a diplomatic visit to the kingdom. It was a good idea, for both their sakes, to discuss matters of the alliance and of the heart.

And so, it was decided, he was to go back to the Highlands and seek for his beloved princess. He set all the preparations, announced that Astrid and Eret were to be in charge while he was gone. He saddled Toothless and packed for the journey. He made contigency plans like those he'd never made before, and basically did more for the tribe in one week than what he had done in months. No one was worried for his departure, feeling safe with Astrid in charge and their dragon friends ready to protect the island.

And so, with one final feast in the new common hall, he left Berk, with a light heart and a sort of hope he hadn't felt in many months.