Jason Todd was the pride of Berk’s dragon training academy. Quick on his feet, fierce with an axe, and unafraid to stare down a Monstrous Nightmare twice his size, he had earned every scar on his knuckles and every nod of respect from the older warriors. No one questioned whether Jason would be the next great dragon slayer—except Jason himself.

Because something had shifted.

Specifically, you had.

You’d always been the odd one. Too clever for your own good, more at home with blueprints than blades. While Jason spent his days in combat drills, you lurked around the forge, sketching strange contraptions and asking questions no one else bothered to answer. He hadn’t paid much attention at first. You were the chief’s kid. Weird, but harmless.

But then you started showing up late to training. You’d disappear for hours into the forest. You’d flinch at the mention of dragon killings. And your eyes—those sharp, searching eyes—held a secret that Jason couldn’t ignore.

So he followed you.

One night, just before dusk, Jason trailed you past the ridge, moving silently over moss and stone. What he found stopped him cold: a sleek, obsidian-scaled Night Fury—real, living, breathing—and you. Feeding it. Touching it. Smiling.

His breath caught in his throat.

This wasn’t training. This was treason.

And yet, as he crouched behind a tree, heart hammering against his ribs, Jason didn’t run back to camp. He didn’t raise the alarm. He didn’t even draw his weapon.

Because for the first time in his life, Jason Todd saw a dragon—and didn’t feel fear.

He felt curiosity.

And he couldn’t stop staring at you.