Chapter Text
Hiccup was playing in the beach, searching for trolls under the rocks. Daddy said trolls aren't real, but I'll prove him wrong!
They'd gone on their last fishing trip a few days after his birthday, and gotten into an argument.
Stoick ended up having to drag Hiccup home. That's where he finally snapped (patient considering he's been hoping Hiccup would stop believing in trolls after he turned five) and yelled at Hiccup for the first time.
"Trolls aren't real!"
Hiccup, of course, ran to his room and dried off the tears before Stoick could see them.
Today, he was determined to find the trolls! He'd prove to Dad that he hadn't been wasting his time all those years! He kept searching for any signs of a troll.
And then it started to snow.
Snow wasn't rare (not in Berk of all places) but Hiccup thought snow season was over. He looked up in wonder, but shrugged it off.
The snow didn't stick to the sand, but back at the village, Hiccup could hear all the other children laughing as they threw snowballs at each other. He stared over to their direction for a second, before sighing and bending over to pick up another rock.
He never really liked the snowball wars, because he'd end up being the only one who'd manage to get hit by only three snowballs and still get injured more seriously than the other kids.
But it sure did look like fun...
Finally, frustrated with the beach, he kicked the rock and left stomping, ignoring the throbbing on his left foot.
"Stupid trolls...dumb watering holes and whatnot," he mumbled, walking to the forest, ready to take out his anger by scribbling various trolls being tortured (drowning in the ocean, cutting their fingers after cutting a vegetable or getting caught stealing a sock).
The brownish-orangish-haired boy turned to his side sharply. He squinted in the direction Jack Frost had been only a moment ago.
"Troll?" he questioned, but there was none (though he could have sworn someone was mocking him silently at the moment. Probably the troll...)
Nothing was near the rock, so Hiccup just sat down there. He took out his journal and charcoal pencil.
Then he was promptly greeted by a snowball to the face.
"Ow!" He yelled, standing up and leaving tools on the ground, searching for the culprit.
"Snotlout! Ruffnut! Tuffnut! I know you're out there," he tried to sound threatening, but it was pretty mild.
Nobody came out.
"Uncl- Gobber?" He'd stopped calling Gobber uncle after realizing he wasn't his uncle. Spitelout was... 'Oh,' he'd said.
He heard a deep voice chuckle behind him, and a snowball hit him in the back of the head.
"Come on kid, you've gotta be kidding me," the voice complained. "How are you not dying of laughter right now? Do I have to tickle you into it," he joked.
Hiccup was not amused. He looked around the snow-covered forest, but nobody was anywhere near him.
The voice got closer. "Geez, I would if I could. I haven't seen you smile at all today."
It was above him.
Hiccup looked up quickly, and found an old man- no. It was a teenager with white hair. And he was flying.
"Augh!" Hiccup took a few steps back and fell to the dry ground in front of the boulder.
"What?" The flying boy turned around, holding the Shepard's crook in his hands defensively. He turned back around with a confused look on his face.
"What were you looking at?" Jack asked, not really expecting an answer. Instead, he started to focus on more ideas to make the boy smile, all the while keeping his guard up, in case there was danger behind them.
His thoughts were interrupted when the boy answered back.
"You're flying!"
Jack fell to the ground, only just managing to catch himself with the staff before tripping and falling lighter than he would have if he hadn't.
"Ow," he complained.
His eyes widened, sudden realization taking over.
"Wait a second, you can see me?"
"Uh, yah? Why else would I be scooting away from you?"
He ignored the sarcasm. "You can see me," he said, no longer a question. He laughed and pulled himself up right into a sitting position, leaning forward.
"This is the first time someone's seen me in years."
Hiccup cocked his head at the strange boy.
"Why's that?" He asked. He ignored the feeling in his gut telling him to run away from the danger, as he usually did unless Dagur was involved.
"I don't know," the boy gave him a grim smile. "It's very lonely though..."
Hiccup furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, I know the feeling..."
"Well, you shouldn't! You're only- what? Ten?"
"Nine."
"Exactly my point," he stood up. "You should be playing with the children back at your village, not moping around with a sad frost elf," he made a a figure with his hand, as if it were running around itself.
"Well you can't be that much older than me!" Hiccup also stood up. He didn't like getting told what to do.
"I'm almost a century old."
Hiccup stepped back. "Never mind, he is old," he said out loud, as he tended to do.
"Hey, watch it kid. I'm a lot younger than a lot of people. The Easter Bunny, Mother Nature..." he trailed off, noticing Hiccup's blank expression.
"Do you know any of them?" Hiccup shook his head.
"Ugh," Jack held his forehead. No wonder the kid's so bitter...
"Look, the point is, there's a lot of thing out there that do exist. Nobody thinks Jack Frost exists, for example, but here I am," he opened his arms wide, as if showing off who he is.
"Jack Frost... I think Unc- Gobber mentioned a Jack Frost or something before," Hiccup turned around and picked up his journal.
"Where's my pencil," he scratched his head.
"And now you're ignoring me," Jack said in a bitter voice. I've had enough of that to last me a life time. He stared at the boy bitterly.
"Hey ho," he called, and Hiccup turned. "What's your name? I think I'd like to know who my first believer is," he gave him his best smile.
(I'm gonna stop with the POV line breaks now...)
"Heh? Hiccup," Hiccup turned back around, not noticing Jack's face. Hiccup? That wasn't a very nice name to give a son. Maybe a small sheep or baby calf, but a son?
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third," he continued. Oh you've gotta be kidding me! There were two runts before him? His family must be very un-vikingly...
"Son of Stoick the Vast, chief of Berk..." And I stand corrected.
"Hope and heir to the tribe of the Hairy Hooligans," He still continued, but his voice sounded bored, as if he (or someone else) had repeated these lines several time before.
"Aha! Found it," Hiccup stood up with a jump, holding out his slightly wet pencil, smiling.
Jack smiled at the kid, almost confused. Here he'd been all day trying to make the boy smile, yet a pencil had done it for him.
"You're pretty interesting," he commented.
"Well, that makes two of us," Hiccup said to the flying white-haired teenage boy.
Jack laughed. "I guess you don't like snow days then, huh?" He leaned against a tree.
"They're fine. I'm guessing you love them. You must be freezing," Hiccup said, finally realizing the boy was just a tad too pale and his cape was covered in frost.
He reached over to Jack.
Then they touched.
Hiccup pulled back almost instantly, surprising the teenager.
"What is it?"
"You're freezing cold! How are you-"
"I'm Jack Frost kiddo. I have to live up to my name you know," he lifted the crook and brought upon them some snow.
"You just made it snow," Hiccup's eyes widened.
"Yes..."
"You're Jokul Frosti! I knew your name sounded familiar!"
"Icicle frost? So that's my name in Norse," Jack mused.
"But I'm not supposed to be able to see or hear you!"
"Most people can't."
"And you're not as old as I'd imagined!"
"Do you want to see me angry?"
"Ah!" Hiccup hid behind the rock.
"Now what..."
"When you get angry you freeze your victims to death," Hiccup whispered, as if it were a secret.
Jack scoffed. "Do not. I don't get why you and the Easter Kangaroo always say I'm dangerous. Sure I'll freeze his tail, but I try not to do the same to humans..."
"What's a kangaroo?" Hiccup sneezed.
"Hmm. Looks like Hiccup has a cold," Jack sang.
"Do not," Hiccup crossed his arm. He stopped glaring. "How come I see you?"
"Like I said," Jack shrugged. "Most people don't. I'm guessing you just believe anything."
"I don't! I only believe in the gods, dragons and trolls! And apparently you," he finished.
"What? I would've argued about the dragons seven years ago, but trolls? Trolls don't exist."
"They do!"
"Trust me on this kid. I've been around 99 years. I know what I'm talking about."
Hiccup stayed silent, suddenly looking depressed.
"Then... Trolls don't exist?"
"Nope," he ruffled Hiccup's hair, "but don't stop believing in me kid. Now come on, we gotta get you to a warmer place. You're shaking like crazy," he smiled lazily.
Hiccup said nothing and grabbed his hand, shivering.
I'm gonna have to say sorry to Dad...
Hiccup got home safely, and said goodbye to Jack. From that day forward, he stopped believing in trolls. He never got to tell his Dad, because they never went fishing again and it seemed pretty dumb to bring it up.
Hiccup grew up, started working at the blacksmith's (somehow managing to convince Gobber that trolls exist without wanting to) and never getting a friend.
A human friend, that is. At the moment, Hiccup has a secret.
He has a Night Fury, and he's named it Toothless.