The wind was sharp that evening, rolling in from the sea as Berk’s torches flickered against the carved wooden houses. You were wandering near the cliffs when you heard a familiar scraping—metal against stone, soft curses, and the unmistakable chirp of a Night Fury.

You turned the corner to find Hiccup kneeling beside Toothless, adjusting a piece of the dragon’s tail-fin with his tools. His hair was messy from the wind, cheeks pink from the cold, a smudge of charcoal streaked across his jaw.

The second he noticed you, he froze. “Oh—hey,” he said, voice cracking just a little. “Uh… didn’t expect anyone out here. Especially you.”

Toothless huffed behind him, nudging Hiccup’s shoulder as if to push him closer to you. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Hiccup muttered to the dragon. “I’m working on it.”

He stood, brushing off his hands, suddenly shy.

“You, um… you look cold,” he said, softer now. “Here.”

He stepped closer and draped his fur-lined cloak around your shoulders without waiting for permission. His fingers lingered just a second too long.

The night was quiet, save for the waves and Toothless’s low purr. The dragon's tail patted the empty space beside Hiccup, as if inviting you to sit next to its owner.

Intelligent dragon...