Chapter Text
Jack is dead.
Jack is dead...?
No matter how Hiccup tried to phrase it, he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea.
How can Jack be dead? Hiccup echoed in his mind. He's the person with the most life that I've ever met! It's a trait I've always admired in him. The way Jack could always keep smiling even though the burdens on his shoulders were just as heavy as my own.
So how...
How was this possible?
Beside Hiccup, Toothless crooned and nudged at his hand, but the dragon rider didn't respond.
Couldn't respond.
"How can the Crown Prince Jackson dead?" Stoick asked, echoing the same question amongst the sudden chaos in the Great Hall. "You mentioned... the Boogeyman?"
At the name, every Viking in the room hushed.
While the villain Pitch Black was more focused on attacking the continental kingdoms and areas directly protected by the renowned Guardians, there was no doubt that every person in this room knew the name very intimately.
Pitch Black was the one who brought their nightmares.
Who whispered deceit and destruction and ruin in their ears.
The one who haunted every shadow.
The Nightmare King was a constant reminder of the ever-present fear that filled their lives. Even with Hiccup's fervent work to bring peace with the dragons and other tribes these past few years, death and fears were the two constants in their lives.
The messenger paled. "I, I only roughly know the details. Each rumor is more uncertain and wilder than the last– But, from what I've roughly pieced together from reports, the Nightmare King targeted the two royal heirs during the Crown Prince's seventeenth birthday celebration–"
A celebration I didn't attend, Hiccup thought, the familiar guilt sinking in his stomach further. But with a new horror filling him further. Jack's birthday that I skipped. Again.
"Where were Queen Anna and King Kristoff!?" Stoick interrupted, slamming his fist on the table. It rattled beneath his strength, creaking in protest. "Guardian Elsa? The guards!? Even those other blasted backstabbing nobles!? How could Pitch have gotten to them!?"
A part of Hiccup was surprised by his father's anger. After all, the Stoick the Vast had made it very clear that he thought Prince Jackson was a bad influence on Hiccup.
And yet... at the same time, there had also been a begrudging approval in Stoick's eyes whenever the bright-eyed boy was brought.
"There is a reason I allowed you to stay in Arendelle despite their weak nature and your... relationship with the prince," Stoick had admitted once. "It is not just because I believed you'd be far safer in the mainland than here during the Devastating Winter. It's also because... Prince Jackson was the only one who could make you laugh. I know I've always been hard on you, but as a father... that is something precious."
Valka placed a hand on Stoick's arm, but she also looked intent on the messenger's response.
The messenger trembled in the face of Stoick the Vast's wrath.
"Qu-Queen Anna and King-Consort Kristoff were summoned away for business," the messenger said, though he didn't sound like he knew why. "They were said to have not been present in the city at the time, which is likely part of why the Nightmare King was so... bold."
What could have been more important than their beloved son's birthday? Hiccup thought with a flare of anger, only to be instantly swallowed by a crushing wave of guilt and self-loathing. Not that I have the right to speak... I didn't go either.
Hiccup swallowed hard, shaking as he struggled to come to terms with the messenger's words.
I... I always thought that I'd have time, Hiccup thought numbly. I made excuses. I was busy. Jack is busy. He's the crown prince! He undoubtedly has tons of people to replace the stupid childhood 'friend' who was such a jerk to him. And even if he still remember me, he wouldn't want me to crash his birthday. A different time would be better. Better for me to properly apologize for how stupid I was back then and for avoiding him all this time and not answering his letters even when they stopped coming–
But now... the excuses were gone.
Just like Jack was gone.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup could see Astrid watching him, her expression clearly expecting him to say something, but he remained completely frozen.
"Guardian Elsa was also away on business," the messenger continued nervously, every eye in the room watching him. "A-And the guards and nobility were focused on the party. It's... it's said that the Crown Prince and Princess had snuck away to skate on the ice–"
That sounds just like Jack, Hiccup thought, chest squeezing painfully. He would absolutely choose skating all night over a party full of stuffy nobles.
"–b-but were found and trapped on the ice Pitch Black," the messenger continued, low gasps filling the room. "They were alone, completely surrounded by his shadow Nightmares. The Crown Prince managed to save Princess Emma from falling in, but then... it... it's said that the Nightmare King gave them a... choice."
A choice?
The messenger swallowed. "The Nightmare King wished to... inflict terror upon the kingdom with the death of one of their heirs. He... he made the royal children choose who would be the one to die."
A wave of whispers and outraged murmurs instantly filled the Great Hall. Hiccup felt a violent tremor pass through his body, his teeth grinding together as the sickening scene burned into his mind. It was horrifically easy to imagine.
Of course Jack would choose to die over his sister, Hiccup thought, anger and devastation filling him to the brim. It wouldn't even be a question for him. I, I wouldn't want Emma hurt either, but Jack... why did Jack–
"The Crown Prince is dead," the messenger repeated, eyes darting to the floor. "Arendelle is in mourning... and determining exactly how they will retaliate against the Nightmare King. They wish to call upon allies for support in this... endeavor."
More whispers, louder this time, erupted at that. The Great Hall filling with discussion and growing arguments about what to do.
Berk's alliance with Arendelle had never been their strongest pact; their cultures, beliefs, and people were simply too different. However, the entire known world despised the name of the Nightmare King. While only Hiccup had been close to the Crown Prince of Arendelle, had been the only one to know him personally, to hear about the despicable way Pitch Black had lured the two children away... as well as the brave and noble sacrifice Prince Jackson had made for his sister... it would work anyone up to a frenzy.
Especially a clan of stubborn, battle-hungry Vikings.
Already, the Great Hall began to shout demands for blood and retribution.
Stoick cursed beneath his breath, rubbing his temples as he processed the situation. He wasn't just a man who had known the innocent young man who had been killed, but the Chief of Berk. While Arendelle had done a personal favor for Stoick in those winters they'd allowed Hiccup to be housed with them, and their trade agreements were essential for Berk's way of life, to pledge Berk's aide against the Nightmare King... it wasn't something that could be decided so easily.
Beside the Chief of the Hooligans Tribe, Gobber also looked stricken. Like Stoick, Gobber hadn't interacted very much with the Crown Prince of Arendelle, but unlike his best friend, he'd always liked the boy.
Contrary to everyone else's opinion, Gobber said that he'd always thought Jackson was good influence on Hiccup.
"You should really consider seeing your prince again," Gobber had said for the thousandth time as they worked together in the forge. "Sure, you screwed up mightily, but I'm sure Jackson would forgive you. Frankly, I imagine he's more upset from you ignoring him all these years than anything. Sure, after your last visit to Arendelle, you were busy with shooting down and hiding that Night Fury of yours, readjusting after losing your foot, making peace with dragons and boar-headed Vikings alike, fighting Dragon Hunters..."
Gobber paused. "You really have been a busy lad these past few years, haven't you? But with Toothless, you'd be able to shoot on over to the mainland and Arendelle in a matter of hours! Maybe Jackson would give you the cold shoulder, at least until you did enough groveling, but if I remember that boy right, he would love to meet Toothless if nothing else."
Hiccup had only sighed, flushing at the term 'your prince' as he focused on the saddle he was adjusting.
"...he would," Hiccup said begrudgingly, heart fluttering at the thought of introducing his two most precious friends to one another. "But it's just... not the right time."
Gobber gave him a look. Serious.
"Keep making excuses... and, soon enough, you'll find there'll be no time, lad."
Hiccup closed his eyes, head and heart hurting with the weight of memories and the sound of Vikings yelling at each other in the Great Hall.
As always... Gobber had been the wiser one.
He'd pushed Hiccup all these years to see Jack again, to get over his own stubbornness and shame, to just swallow his pride and see the only person who Hiccup could truly call a friend... and Hiccup had just ignored him.
He'd been scared.
Scared that Jack wouldn't forgive him.
That Jack would laugh in his face and order his guards to banish Hiccup permanently from Arendelle, completely destroying any hope that Hiccup had for reconciliation.
But it was only now that Hiccup realized that would've been better.
Because, at least then, Hiccup would've been able to see Jack.
Maybe Hiccup would've even been at his seventeenth birthday. Been able to do something when Pitch had appeared–
...but the what ifs didn't matter.
Because Hiccup hadn't been there.
Hiccup would never get the chance to make things right.
"Hiccup..." Valka began quietly, finally noticing Hiccup's numb expression. "What's wrong...?"
Valka put a hand around his shoulder, but Hiccup only flinched and pulled away.
He didn't mean to, and he felt even worse when he saw the expression on her face (especially as she quickly hid it), but he just... couldn't help it right now.
Maybe it was because, even though Hiccup had happily accepted Valka back into his life after the war with Drago, it still felt... odd to have a mother. He'd been a baby when she'd disappeared. For all of his issues with living up to be the man his father wanted him to be, at least Stoick the Vast was there.
Sure, Hiccup and Valka had more in common than he did with his father given their mutual passion and fervor for dragons, but they were still... strangers, honestly.
Even if Valka was physically beside him, there were times Hiccup felt like he was a million miles away from her.
Right now was one of them.
Because Valka only knew of the Crown Prince of Arendelle.
Prince Jackson's name and title had merely been pieces of gossip she'd picked up while catching up on the world she had missed.
Valka didn't know Jack.
Didn't know who he was to Hiccup.
Still is to Hiccup.
Valka didn't know any of the stories featuring two foolish heirs, both as reluctant as the other for their future responsibilities, as they got into unspeakable trouble for years on end as they ran around the Kingdom of Arendelle during Hiccup's visits.
Valka didn't know any of the times that Hiccup had felt, had known, Jack was the only person in the entire world he could call a friend – the only one who'd listened and empathized with his woes, no matter how immature, during those long winters Stoick would send his disappointment of a son across the Barbaric Sea.
Valka didn't know... how Hiccup had treated Jack the last time they'd met. How badly he'd messed up and made excuses in all the years since to avoid fixing it.
His Mom didn't know that, in his heart, Jack was the only one–
Hiccup stood up abruptly. All eyes in the Great Hall fell upon him.
Because, unlike his mother, the tribe knew. They all remembered how close Hiccup had been to the Crown Prince of Arendelle. After all, many of them had jeered and teased him over the friendship. They'd steal some of his letters from Jack, the ones he'd sometimes wait weeks in front of the barge for on the off chance that a trader would come with a letter in tow from the Prince of Arendelle.
Worse, they'd find his notebooks. They'd mockingly read out loud Hiccup's half-written letters and even tear up his countless sketches of the other boy, frequently spitting insults of how Hiccup was a disgrace. An embarrassment who should quit being Berk's problem and go live full time on the mainland with his Pretty Prince.
Some would even joke that, since it was obvious Hiccup would never be a proper Viking, perhaps he could make an okay servant – or a court jester to keep the Crown Prince amused.
(A few had even sneered that Hiccup might serve as a concubine, though many doubted that the prince's indulgence would ever stretch that far for such an ugly little fishbone disgrace.)
But now... there was only sorrow on their faces.
The past mockery had completely vanished. Replaced by heavy, solemn grief.
The village and Archipelago as a whole had grown to respect and admire Hiccup over the last few years, but before now, none of them had ever thought highly of Arendelle. The Barbaric Archipelago had always looked down on the continental kingdoms – particularly Arendelle with its soft, witchcraft-loving, non-warrior culture.
This included the Crown Prince who, from what stories they heard, was just as much of an embarrassment as Hiccup was as an heir.
But now... everyone's eyes held a newfound respect.
A deep sorrow for a youth taken before his time.
It only made Hiccup feel sicker.
Unable to stay in the Great Hall a second longer, Hiccup rushed to the front door. No one stood in his way. Not even Astrid or the other Dragon Riders.
Bursting out of the Great Hall, the fresh, cool air did little to calm Hiccup's stomach. If anything, he felt like throwing up even more.
Somehow, Hiccup managed to stumble his way through the village into his house before collapsing into the chair in front of the fireplace. Toothless was right by at his side, crooning worriedly and rubbing his head into Hiccup's leg.
"...you would've loved him, bud," Hiccup whispered finally. He laughed, tears prickling at his eyes as he pet the Night Fury with shaky hands. "I know, you must be sick of hearing me talk about him, huh? I can't help it. Every second with Jack was... memorable. We would get into almost as much trouble as you and I do. He was always sneaking off from his duties, inventing wild new games, always finding a way to make me laugh no matter how upset I until I–"
Hiccup stopped abruptly, his hand tightening at his side as the memories stung in his chest. The firelight danced across his face, reflecting the wetness of his eyes.
"Jack would've loved you," Hiccup choked out, struggling against the tears. "He would've loved flying. Loved being in the open sky. One time, he told me that he was jealous of birds. Of dragons. Of being able to fly so high, so completely free–"
A sharp, bitter laugh escaped him.
"And what did I do?" Hiccup laughed again, burying his hand in his hair. "I tried to 'impress' him by promising to shoot down a dragon for him. Like that would somehow be something that he'd like. That would it would, maybe, make him think of me as..."
Hiccup swallowed hard, shaking his head as a familiar, suffocating shame filled him.
"New flash: he wasn't impressed. It, of course, turned into another fight about Vikings, about me proving myself to Berk. Jack would insist that I had nothing to prove, but back then, I just thought that he, like everyone else, didn't believe in me–"
A watery laugh left his mouth as tears finally started to fall down his face. Toothless cooed, moving in closer with sad green eyes.
"But Jack did believe in me!" Hiccup gasped, clutching at his chest. "More than anyone else! More than my Dad, more than the villagers, even more than Gobber– to Jack, I was always good enough! Even when I was a fishbone, a pathetic weakling that no one liked, he liked me! Even before I shot you down, befriended you, fought the Red Death, and proved to everyone that I can accomplish something– he thought I was worth something!"
Hiccup slammed his hand into his leg, uncaring as it made his leg ache – even bringing up phantom pains from where his foot had once been.
He didn't care.
The pain was nothing compared to the agony in his chest.
The torment Jack must've felt as he was forced to choose between himself and his sister.
The horror the prince must've felt as he was dragged beneath the water–
"We could've seen him at any time!" Hiccup yelled, trying to drive the image away even as he desperately tried to keep the memories close. "Maybe, maybe Jack would've hated me no matter how much I apologized– but that would've been fine! Because, maybe I could've been there! Maybe we could've done something! We could've done something! But because I, because I just kept making excuses–"
A harsh sob toe from his throat.
It hurt.
It hurt worse than anything Hiccup had ever felt.
Hiccup devolved into gasping, fractured sobs. Toothless remained glued to his side, utterly powerless to ease his rider's agonizing grief as weeping filled the dark night.
Because Jack was gone.
And no excuse would change that.
o0o0o0o
Hiccup must have been lost in thought and tears longer than he'd realized, because the next thing he knew, his parents and Gobber were suddenly in the room. He hadn't even heard the door open or close.
Approaching slowly, as if Hiccup was a wounded dragon, Valka came to sit next to Hiccup at the fireplace. She gently took his hand, her expression soft and entirely full of compassion – completely devoid of any sort of hurt or anger at his earlier rejection in the Great Hall.
It only made Hiccup's stomach churn with even deeper guilt. Unable to hold her gaze, he turned to his father, who was standing further back and murmuring quietly with Gobber.
"I'm going to kill him."
Hiccup's words made Stoick and Gobber immediately stop. Understanding and wariness mixed on their faces. There was no question who he was talking about.
"Whoa, laddie," Gobber said, hand and hook raised warningly, as if Hiccup was some sort of rampaging dragon. "I know you're..." He hesitated. "...but killing Pitch Black? The Nightmare King? They say as long as fear exists, in any part of the world, he will somehow survive like the cockroach he is."
Hiccup didn't care, a fury he's never felt before building up inside of him. "Then I guess I'll have to kill him as many time as it will take."
"Hiccup," Stoick interrupted sternly. "We can't be hasty."
Hiccup was about to argue, but Stoick just gave him a look.
"Not just for your own sake, and the sake of Berk, but for Arendelle as well." Stoick's gaze softened. "For Jack's family."
Hiccup felt like he'd been splashed with freezing cold water.
That's right, Hiccup thought numbly. Jack's family... Emma...
The dragon rider swallowed, wondering how Queen Anna and King Kristoff had... reacted.
If Hiccup was being honest, he'd always been jealous of Jack's close bond with his parents. Even when Jack ignored the duties and responsibilities of being a prince, it was clear that his family stood solidly behind him. Every glance, every word, every shared laugh... it would radiate Anna and Kristoff's absolute adoration of their eldest child.
It was something that had admittedly made Hiccup very... envious. A never-ending warmth that often left Hiccup feeling bitterly cold and envious as he compared it to the heavy weight of Stoick the Vast's constant disappointment, and the hollow, lingering ache left by his absent mother.
Even now, even after having found an understanding with his father and miraculously regaining his long-lost mother, Hiccup would find himself wishing that they could be a bit more like Jack's parents.
And yet... whatever lingering envy Hiccup felt evaporated at the thought of what Queen Anna and King Kristoff's must be going through now.
Of what Emma must be going through, after having to personally witness her brother's dead.
Of watching her beloved brother sacrifice himself for her.
It was unimaginable.
"I..." Hiccup exhaled, forcing down some of his anger. "I still want to go. To help Arendelle however I can."
To get revenge on Pitch however I can.
Stoick gave him a knowing look, not needing to hear Hiccup's thoughts to know what was going through his head. After all, he'd once been the same when he'd lost Valka all those years ago.
The Chief sighed. "I have no doubt that if I forbid you from going... you'd go anyway."
The mountain of a man straightened, gesturing to a scroll that he'd apparently been working on while Hiccup had been zoned out. "Which is why you'll be named Berk's Official Representative. While we will send another group after you to help track Arendelle track down that monster, you'll be in charge of sending us reports of if our allies need any other aide that we can provide."
"Pitch may be the Nightmare King," Gobber quipped, "but I doubt he's ever seen a pack of angry Vikings on dragons before." He walked over, placing a hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "We're with you, laddie. You go ahead while we'll rally the forces here."
A faint wave of gratitude tangled in with the rest of his chaotic emotions. But even if he wanted to thank them, the words wouldn't pass through his throat. Hiccup managed a tight nod, swallowing heavily.
"I'm going to start packing," Hiccup said, standing immediately.
As the dragon rider went up to his room, he wasn't surprised to see his mother follow him. For a few minutes, it was silent as Hiccup quickly rummaged through his drawers for the bare minimum items needed to make the long flight. He knew he wouldn’t need much. Arendelle had always been adept in caring for the Heir of the Hooligan Tribe.
Queen Anna herself would dote on Hiccup, providing him with whatever he needed or liked. King Kristoff would let Hiccup use his personal workshop, ordering whatever tools were needed even when Hiccup protested that he didn't deserve to use such things. Emma, even if Jack wasn't around, would ask Hiccup questions about the Barbaric Archipelago, sometimes slipping him new journals and demanding him to draw her pictures of dragons and his village that seemed so foreign and new to the little princess.
Even Olaf, the sentient snowman that Hiccup had taken some time to... get used to, had been nothing but kind to the foreign outsider. He'd always ask Hiccup about his feelings, or volunteer as a distraction for whatever mischief Hiccup and Jack had been up to.
And while Hiccup had only met the infamous – and terrifying – Guardian of Truth a few times, Jack's Aunt Elsa had been nothing but welcoming to the little Viking who ran around with her favorite nephew.
They'd treated him... like family.
(It was a generosity that Hiccup had never deserved.)
(Especially after how badly he'd treated their beloved prince for all these years.)
Finally, the quiet got to him. The dragon rider sighed.
"I know you're wondering," Hiccup said quietly. "You... you can ask."
Valka looked up, eyes steady. "Who was Prince Jackson to you?"
Hiccup swallowed, stomach rolling as he wondered how to answer. "For one... he didn't like to be called Jackson. Or Crown Prince or anything remotely related to him being royalty. He thought it was too stuffy. For him, it was just..."
Hiccup's throat tightened, heart squeezing painfully in his chest as the echo of Jack's laughter rang in his ears. From the very start, he'd introduced himself to the awkward young Viking with a wide smile and carefree attitude.
"Just... Jack."
"Jack, then," Valka correctly gently. "Who was Jack to you?"
A million ideas burst into being in Hiccup's mind. Some new. Some descriptions that had been firmly planted into the Viking's head since the day the two had first met so long ago.
All of them warred with one another, contradictions upon contradictions, things that may not be true to anyone but Hiccup, words that he'd thought countless times but would never say out loud...
And would never get the chance to.
"Jack was my best friend," Hiccup said finally, voice cracking beneath the weight of his words. "When we met, I didn't think we'd last a day together. I was convinced that he was making fun of me the entire time. Why wouldn't he? After all, everyone knew that Dad was only trying to save face when he said that I was sent to 'foster better relations' and 'help trade agreements'." He huffed, a familiar hurt blooming in his chest. "I was sent to Arendelle there because I was a disgrace. Because he thought I wouldn't be able to survive the dragon attacks. Everyone knew I was a nobody. But Jack..."
A fragile smile flickered across Hiccup's face. Sharp with sorrow, but real.
How could it not be as he recalled the warmth of those early, innocent misunderstandings between the two boys?
"Jack wouldn't leave me alone," Hiccup said with a sad laugh. "Even though he was a prince who could've spent his days with literally anyone else – his kingdom of adoring subjects for one – he still chose me. Didn't give up even when I avoided him or barely responded. Jack kept bothering me until... until he somehow made me laugh." He smiled, eyes full of somber wonder. "After that, everything changed. Somehow... we became closer than anyone else."
Hiccup swallowed hard, trying to fight the physical wave of grief hitting him.
As well as a familiar self-loathing.
How could he not hate himself?
Jack had been the greatest friend you could ever ask for... and Hiccup had thrown their bond away.
Jack had deserved the world, but Hiccup hadn't even been able to send him a letter in years.
Sure, Hiccup had tried. He'd written hundreds. Starting, stopping, revising, and ultimately throwing them away. Because no words seemed to be enough to explain.
To explain what Jack meant to him.
To apologize for being such a stupid idiot that ruined their friendship over his own insecurities.
To ask if, somehow, they could go back to how they used to be–
(To ask if there could ever be anything more between them–)
Somehow, a soft smile appeared on Valka's face.
"Jack sounds... like an amazing boy," Valka said softly, making Hiccup's heart hurt more. "It is not a surprise. Arendelle has always been good to us. Queen Anna and King Kristoff have been compassionate rulers and allies, especially in spite of the Barbaric Archipelago's jealousy and tendency to look down upon the kingdoms of the mainland."
"Queen Anna and King Kristoff are amazing," Hiccup agreed. "Jack and Emma definitely inherited it from them." He laughed somehow. "I'm not sure if you ever knew, but Queen Anna is a very mischievous person. Jack absolutely inherited it too."
A small chuckle left his lips, but it was weak and strained. "The number of times we drove the servants in the castle crazy... years of causing chaos..."
Hiccup trailed off, throat tightening as Valka gave him a knowing look.
"What happened?"
Hiccup knew what she was asking.
"We had a fight," Hiccup said softly. It felt like something was clawing at his insides, making every word more difficult to force out, but he ignored it – he knew he deserved it. "I... I ruined everything."
o0o0o0o
Hiccup stared, his face filling with shock as he stared at the prince before him.
"...what did you say?"
The fourteen-year-old face of Jack twisted uncomfortably, but it didn't look like he was willing to back down.
"I said... why don't you just stay in Arendelle?" Jack asked awkwardly, fidgeting in the way he always did when nervous. Hiccup might have found it cute if not for the current conversation. "Dad would be happy to make you an official part of the Crafting Guild–"
"And, what?" Hiccup asked, bewildered and something else rising up inside of him. "Give up my life?"
"What life?" Jack rolled his eyes. "A life where the entire village makes fun of you? A life where your Dad only looks at you like you're a–"
Jack cut off. His expression was immediately filled with guilt, but Hiccup was too angry to care.
"A... what, Jack?" Hiccup said dangerously. "A failure? The worst Viking to have ever existed?"
"I, I didn't mean it like that, Hiccup–"
"You did too!" Hiccup protested. "Just say it! And what even is this about me 'staying' here? Just say that you think that I can't kill a dragon either–"
"It's not about killing dragons, Hiccup!" Jack yelled back, finally losing his cool in a way he rarely did. "It's about you! About you trying to be... something you're not!"
Hiccup's stomach twisted in hurt.
He knew it.
He knew that, even if Jack said he was his friend, he thought of Hiccup the same way everyone else did.
Weak.
Pathetic.
A disgrace.
"What would you know about what I am or am not?" Hiccup spat out, fists shaking at his side. "You're just–"
"Just what?" Jack taunted, getting into his face. "A mainlander? A magic lover? Not one of your mighty and all-powerful Vikings?"
"A spoiled prince!" Hiccup shouted.
Jack froze. He store at Hiccup with wide amber eyes, but the young Viking was too caught up in his own anger to notice.
"How could someone like you ever get it?" Hiccup continued, waving his hands as he tried to get Jack to understand. "Your family loves you! Your kingdom and people all love you! They'd, they'd respect you no matter what you do! It's not like that for me! I have to prove myself!"
Jack's expression twisted, becoming angry once more.
"You shouldn't have to prove anything!" Jack shouted. "You're not–"
"Not what?" Hiccup asked with defensive, self-deprecating mocking. "A proper Viking? A son that my father will actually be proud of–"
"A killer!"
Hiccup froze, staring at Jack in shock.
"You're not a killer, Hiccup!" Jack insisted, running his hand through his brown hair with a stressed look. "And you shouldn't have to be! You're talented in other ways–"
"What would you know about talent?" Hiccup interrupted harshly, heart aching so much in his chest. "You're just, just someone who only knows how to fool around! Who runs away from his responsibilities! At least I try to be a good heir–"
It was only then that Hiccup noticed Jack's expression.
It was hurt.
Vulnerable.
If Hiccup wasn't so focused on proving himself, on not looking like a weakling to the boy he admired the most, maybe he would've stopped... maybe he would've apologized and prevented the long years that divided them...
But he didn't.
Instead, Hiccup did what any Viking would do – tightened his shoulders and held onto his pride.
"...fine," Jack hissed out finally. He stood up, brushing out of Hiccup's way. "If you want to be some pigheaded, bloodthirsty Viking, then I won't get in your way! But..."
Jack stopped.
For a moment, Hiccup had a faint hope that it would work out. That one of them would apologize.
But Jack's next words froze him his tracks.
"But if you do kill a dragon..." Jack whispered. "Don't bother coming back. Because the person you would have become... it's not someone I want to be friends with."
Hiccup stared, something falling apart inside of him.
He was left watching as the Crown Prince walked further and further away.
"Fine!" Hiccup finally yelled, voice echoing in the hallways. "I won't come back!"
But Jack was already gone.
The next day, when it was time for Hiccup to set sail back to Berk, he didn't bother looking for Jack in the crowd.
(Completely unaware that it would be the last time he'd see Jack alive.)
o0o0o0o0
o0o0o0o
"After I got back," Hiccup continued softly to his mother, "I completely threw myself into my inventions. I knew I wasn't going to take down a dragon the normal way, but I had to figure out a way. Then, I'd finally prove to Dad, to Jack, to everyone that I was a mighty Viking warrior." He let out a bitter laugh. "And then..."
"...and then you shot down Toothless," Valka filled in, face full of sympathy.
"I shot down Toothless," Hiccup echoed tonelessly. "At first, while I was standing over his body, I was... I was so proud – I'd finally done it, right!? Not only would Dad think I'm a worthy son and the village would accept me, but I could be friends with Jack again! Sure, Jack said that he wouldn't want to be friends if I killed a dragon, but surely, he'd change his mind when he saw the cool new me, right?"
Hiccup's eyes pinched closed, his expression pained. "...it was even more stupid to think since I'd been ignoring Jack's letters for months. So caught up in proving him wrong that I was only proving him more and more right."
It was quiet for a few moments.
"...but I realized I couldn't kill Toothless," Hiccup whispered. "I looked in his eyes, and saw that he was as scared as I was." He exhaled softly. "I saw myself in Toothless. I realized... everything that Jack had said about me was right. I wasn't a killer. I wasn't like the rest of the tribe. I wasn't... the person I wanted to be."
"But that's good," Valka said. "If you were, all of this–" She gestured around them, to the dragons flying outside to Toothless and Cloudjumper waiting to the side. "–wouldn't have been possible."
She stroked his hair. "You've proven to be better than the best of us. Far better than your father and I, for certain. I'm sure that, if Jack had known what you did and was as good of a friend as you say, he would've forgiven you."
Bitterness welled up inside of Hiccup, chasing away any warmth that her words would've otherwise brought.
"Not too sure about that." Hiccup's hands clenched at his sides. "Yeah, he probably would've called me an idiot but forgiven me like you said if I'd gone to see him after the whole Red Death and dragon adjustment period, but I didn't."
Valka's expression was sad. "Why?"
"I was a coward," Hiccup admitted bitterly. "By the time I had gotten used to my new leg, I had a thousand other responsibilities. Teaching Berk to get along with dragons. Dealing with other tribes causing problems. Always looking for the next dragon to train–"
He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Before I knew it, he'd stopped sending me letters," Hiccup whispered. "Before, I'd been too angry to read them, and then too scared. I, I didn't to see confirmation that Jack didn't want to be friends anymore. When he'd stopped sending them, I told myself that I could only go apologize in person, but something... always came up. Something 'more important' or the timing just wasn't good..."
He exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut. "Just like that... another two years passed. And now, he's dead."
The tears burned at his eyes, but Hiccup tried to keep them in.
"Maybe Jack didn't always... phrase things the best way, but I know it was just because he could see how much proving myself to be a worthy Viking was tearing me apart. We had so many fights about it, but I'm the one who ended everything. Not only that, I threw all of his worst insecurities into his face – secrets he'd never told anyone. He, he offered me a home, a place where I didn't have to pretend, and I, I weaponized our years of friendship–"
Hiccup cut off, tears burning at his eyes again. He thought he'd cried out everything possible before, but the well of regret inside of him seemed bottomless.
"He believed in me!" Hiccup screamed, hands shaking at his side. "He was the only one who did. It's no wonder I fell in love–"
He cut off, but it was too late.
Valka stared, a faint horror and grief filling her eyes as she finally understood exactly who Crown Prince Jackson Overland was to her son.
Who he always would be.
"Hiccup..."
"And now... Jack's gone," Hiccup forced out. "I can't change that. I can't change how horrible of a person I was to Jack.... but I can fight Pitch. I can stop the one who killed Jack. Protect his family and the sister however I can." He turned away. "...or die trying."
"Hiccup–"
Valka reached out again, but once again, Hiccup moved to the side, returning to his gear.
"Don't try to stop me, Mom," Hiccup warned, slamming the final buckle of his pack shut and hoisting it onto his shoulders. "Until I find a way to kill the Nightmare King... I'm not coming back."
"...I know, son," Valka murmured quietly as Hiccup strode firmly to the exit of the loft. Toothless trailed meekly behind him. "But... please. Be safe. Don't... don't become someone that Jack, if he were alive, he would never want you to become."
For a moment, Hiccup stilled at her words.
But he didn't turn around.
He just walked faster down the stairs, never looking back.
o0o0o0
Once he was sure his mother or anyone else wouldn't follow him, Hiccup collapsed in the stables. He ignored the worried gazes of Toothless and the other dragons, slowly reaching into his pocket. With careful, trembling hands, he brought out the worn paper he'd grabbed on his way out of his bedroom.
It was a letter.
The last letter he'd ever received from Jack .
With shaking fingers, he forced himself to open it. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, re-reading and tracing the faded ink of every line.
Hey jerk,
I know there are a lot of jerks on Berk, but you know who I'm talking to.
But... I guess I was a bit of a jerk too. I know how much you want to make your dad and village proud, so it wasn't great of me to push you like that.
I still don't think you're the one who needs to change. Not in that way, at least. But I still went too far with what I said. Not just because I know things are different in the Barbaric Archipelago and I have no right to judge what you guys do to survive, but because you're my best friend. I've always been proud of that fact.
I've missed you, Hiccup. My family is great, but you know it's not the same as being able to hang out with you. I know I sometimes drive you crazy with my pranks, and maybe you never wanted to come to Arendelle in the first place and put up with a spoiled prince, but I'm really glad we met.
So, I'll be waiting for you to write me back, okay?
Or just visit. As long as I'm here, I swear you'll always be welcomed.
Hopefully, I'm not dead by the time you decide to make up your mind.
Sincerely, Jack
Hiccup stared at the last sentence of the letter.
Then, he laughed.
Laughed and laughed until hysterical and bitter tears were running down his face, his sides were shaking from the all-consuming movement.
"G-Guess you were right again!" Hiccup gasped out, slamming his hand on the ground hard enough that he could feel the skin bruising. "Are you sure you didn't inherit any magical powers like your aunt, Jack? Because it looks like you can tell the future!"
Hiccup faltered, the words replaying in his head.
"Could..." Hiccup correctly softly. "Could tell the future... because you're not around anymore, are you? Here I thought I had all the time in the world to make it up to you..."
He sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his forehead down on the letter, trembling as he tried to clutch to the last piece he had left of Jack.
(The one who owned his heart.)
(The one who still held it.)
"No," Hiccup whispered, fists squeezing at his side. "Even if I'd known you were going to live for the next hundred years, I shouldn't have wasted one second. I should've went and apologized the moment I could, pride be damned!"
There was no answer.
Of course there wasn’t.
Only silence.
Never again... would Hiccup hear that laughter.
Only in his memories.
Hiccup slowly opened his eyes, wondering about the person Jack had become.
After all, Hiccup had changed a lot in the three years they'd been apart, so it was only reasonable to think that Jack had too. Even when Hiccup had been angry at Jack, a million questions would always pop up in his mind whenever he thought about the prince.
Had Jack mastered his Axel jump in ice skating?
What was the best prank that Jack had pulled in the past year?
Who was the most annoying noble he'd had to deal with?
What suitors were asking for Jack's hand now?
(And had he accepted any?)
Did he still handle his nightmares the same as he had before by climbing onto the roof or nearest highest object?
What was the last thing Jack thought about before the ice broke beneath him?
If Hiccup stared writing now, he'd probably have used up all the parchment in Berk by morning, and still have more questions to ask.
Questions that would never get answered... because of Pitch Black.
Slowly, the grief inside of Hiccup began to redirect once again – to fuel the rage that had been growing inside of him the moment he'd learned the name of the one who had caused this.
The monster who had robbed the world of the brightest person that Hiccup had ever met.
I swear I'll kill you, Pitch Black, Hiccup vowed, pure hate filling him. Maybe I wasn't a killer before... but for Jack?
I will be.
o0o0o0
Elsewhere, a teen with snow-white hair and bright blue eyes scowled glared daggers at the tall man blocking the exit of the massive workshop.
"Going to let me out anytime soon, Cottontail?"
His 'captor' rolled his eyes. The man was over six feet tall, a mountain of deeply tanned muscle with intricate, dark gray tribal markings snaking down around his shoulders and arms. He wore a serious expression, framed by wild, blue grey hair that gave off the appearance-contrasting scent of spring and flowers.
Anyone looking at this scene would think that the boy had been trapped here by some dastardly villain.
They'd be half right.
However, if you asked E. Aster Bunnymund, he was the prisoner – utterly exasperated by his new duty of babysitting the resurrected prince.
"C'mon, Bunny!" Jack Frost whined at the silence, twirling his staff. "Just a quick walk outside? I promise I won't cause a scene this time!"
When he still didn't get an answer, he scowled and accidentally pointed his staff at the Pooka. As expected, intricate tendrils of frost shot out, responding to Jack's emotions.
"Watch where you're pointing that toothpick, anklebiter," the Guardian grunted, dodging the frost shooting past his ear. "And the answer is still no. Even if you weren't still getting a handle on your powers, we can't afford to have anyone recognize you. If Pitch catches wind that you're alive–"
Bunny cursed himself as Jack flinched at the name of his killer. The teen's expression hardened instantly, jagged ice erupting beneath his bare feet and encrusting the floorboards with ice. Bunny jumped, cursing as he dodged again.
"Watch it you bloody–"
"Pitch is exactly why I need to practice," Jack interrupted, his gaze darkening as his fingers tightened around the staff. "If I'm going to be able to fight him–"
"You are not fighting Pitch Black," Bunny cut in firmly, his already thick accent becoming heavier. "Not anytime soon, at least. I don't know what Manny was thinking, bringing you back–"
Jack tensed, then scoffed. "Sorry to be alive, Kangaroo. Not like I asked to wake up at the bottom of a frozen lake."
Bunny paused, a hint of guilt in face. "...I didn't mean it like that, mate." He sighed. "Being a Guardian is... not as glamorous as people thing. And you, you're young. Still a kid."
He glared before Jack could object.
"And even if you weren't a kid, it's clear that you were brought back for a reason," Bunny insisted. "Even for someone like the Man in the Moon, bringing someone back from the dead takes a staggering, dangerous amount of raw magical power. And we can't even ask Manny why he brought you back because he clearly exhausted himself doing so. If our leader went to those lengths and risks... it's not just because he had pity on you."
Jack huffed, glancing away. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't suddenly have magic."
"It was always in your bloodline," Bunny awkwardly tried to comfort. He was well aware of how fervently Jack had tried to learn magic and be like his heroic aunt. But like Anna, it had appeared that Jack didn't have a hint of magic. "And once Elsa is back, you'll be able to properly learn how to control it. Before long, you two will be creating blizzards and sentient snowman galore."
Jack's expression fluctuated. On one hand, he was excited to start finally learning magic. He'd been crushed for... years about not inheriting any.
But the circumstances of how he'd gained his magic... he wasn't sure if he could be truly happy about it.
And that wasn't even without considering Pitch
Bunny sighed, leaning back against the door. It was clear that he hoped Tooth or Sandy or someone would come back and take over for him.
"Until then... you're going to have to wait."
"But–"
Bunny shook his head, crossing his arms. "No, Jack. Believe me, I understand the burning need for revenge against Pitch." He gave Jack a solemn look. "But you can't let that obsession put everything else... everyone else on the line."
Jack quieted at that. The devastating story of the Pooka's slaughter was no secret. It had been a ruthless, merciless sneak attack against Bunnymund's tribe, leaving Aster as the only survivor of the Pooka race. He would've been dead too if not for the Man in the Moon breaking through Pitch's concealing darkness and shielding the young Pooka warrior from perishing alongside his neighbors.
In truth, sometimes Bunny wished he hadn't been saved by MiM.
He may have lived, but he'd also lost everything.
Family, friends, culture – all gone in a flash.
If anyone deserved revenge against Pitch Black... it was definitely Bunnymund.
But in his own brutal pursuit of justice for years and years, Bunny had learned the hard way that going after the Nightmare King unprepared only bred more agony and suffering.
He didn't want Jack to have to experience that as well.
Even if the ankle biter had been forcibly changed from that carefree boy who used to drive Bunnymund crazy during Guardian summits in Arendelle, Bunny had no intention of letting history repeat itself.
"Don't make your family lose you a second time," Bunnymund said finally. "If any member of my tribe were to suddenly walk back through that door... I would never forgive them if they just marched right back out to their deaths."
The fight drained out of Jack at the reminder. While Jack hadn't seen the... aftermath of his death, he could see it in the desperate way his mother Anna would clutch him whenever he was in sight. The way his father Kristoff and Uncle Olaf was quieter than Jack had ever known them. The way Emma wouldn't stop sobbing and just kept having nightmares despite Sandy desperately laying her dreams with spells that would protect her from Pitch's influence–
Jack forced out an exhale. He... he couldn’t imagine what Bunnymund must have gone through, going through all of this alone when he had been Jack's age.
And even if Bunny hadn't gone through such horrible things, Jack reluctantly knew the Guardian of Hope was right. Even if Jack hated being locked away like this, his resurrection being hidden from everyone but his family and the Guardians, he knew that there was no way he would stand a chance against Pitch Black the Nightmare King.
After all, the Guardians had been fighting him for centuries.
Even his Aunt Elsa, with her insanely powerful magic that extended past storms and ice, had been helpless against Pitch Black for years.
How could someone like Jack ever compare?
Magic or not, Jack was still the same screw-up, irresponsible prince he always had been.
(...though he might not even be a prince anymore.)
(How could Jack be, being a dead man? Weeks later, his subjects were still mourning his death and putting flowers at his public grave.)
(...would he ever be able to return to that life?)
Jack sighed, sinking back against the wooden support beam he was balanced on. He tried to get a handle on the magic threatening to flood out, struggling to swallow his desperate need for revenge.
Or maybe... it wasn't just bloodlust.
Maybe he just wanted to stop the paralyzing, suffocating terror clawing at his chest.
The fear that followed him every time he even heard Pitch Black's name.
Or, maybe, Jack was just desperate to return to his life.
He'd felt suffocated by the title of Crown Prince of Arendelle for years, doing whatever he could to avoid his responsibilities and ignore the way nobles whispered about him even if it made him want to run away sometimes, but now...
He would do anything to return.
But how could he return?
Even if Pitch Black was somehow defeated, or at least warded off for another few decades, it didn't change what Jack apparently was now.
He was a Guardian.
Someone who was meant to devote his life to fighting Pitch Black and other forces of darkness that threatened the world.
Of course, it didn't mean Jack couldn't still have a life – his Aunt Elsa and the other Guardians proved that, but... it felt different for him.
It wasn't even the sudden magic. The untamed power that now lied beneath his skin. It felt alien, but also a part of him that felt like it'd always been there. And, again, Aunt Elsa and the other Guardians proved that being miniature gods didn't prevent them from being goofballs.
However...
Unlike the other Guardians, Jack had died.
He remember, very clearly, how it had felt for the life to just... leave him.
Jack stared down at his palms, which were shockingly pale now.
He felt alive.
His family and the Guardians reassured him that he was alive.
But sometimes... Jack felt like a ghost haunting his own flesh.
He glanced at the window, staring back at the person being mirrored back to him. It felt like he was a stranger in his own skin. The person in the reflection unfamiliar was so unfamiliar with his white hair and blue eyes – so different from the brown hair and eyes he'd once shared with his parents and sister.
Ironically, Jack looked a lot like his Aunt Elsa now. Fulfilling his childhood wish of being like her in every way. The Guardian of Truth was someone he'd looked up to, admired, and wanted to be for his entire life.
He'd gotten his wish.
Jack swallowed, pushing down his feelings as he looked away from his reflection.
But even as he did, it didn't get rid of the feelings and conflict that filled his mind the longer he was forced to just hide in North's Workshop and do nothing as he waited.
Coming back to life had been... uncomfortable. Even if he blocked out the terror of sacrificing himself for his sister, the freezing agony of water of water filling his lungs, and being resurrected in a less than pleasant fashion... he felt different.
Like he wasn't the same person anymore.
A part of him was still Jackson Overland, the Crown Prince of Arendelle, but there was also something... else.
Something entirely new.
Jack Frost, the Man in the Moon had whispered as he brought Jack back to the surface of the lake he'd died in. Your name is Jack Frost.
But what exactly Jack Frost or Jackson Overland was supposed to do now... he didn't know.
And since the Man in the Moon had spent all of his energy resurrecting Jack and could no longer communicate with the Guardians for who knows how long, maybe he never would.
The only thing I know is that Pitch needs to be stopped, Jack thought, hand squeezing around the staff he'd used to pull his sister to safety. In many ways, the staff had become his stability. Something to hold to in the face of the storm inside of him. But how... can you stop Fear itself?
Jac stared at the Moon outside of the window.
As expected... there was no answer.
But, if Jack was being honest, he wasn't even sure there was an answer.
If there was, the Guardians and the Man in the Moon wouldn't have been fighting Pitch Black for generations now.
But until Pitch was somehow dealt with... how was Jack supposed to have a life? Sure, he was allowed to see his family, but that was it.
He couldn't be seen in the palace anymore, bothering the servants and charming extra servings of dessert from the kitchen workers.
He could no longer tease the nobles or bother the traders for stories of worlds and lands he'd never seen.
He couldn't slip out into the kingdom, or play with the village kids. He could only imagine how Jamie, a boy who had become like a little brother to him, had reacted to his death, but he couldn't even tell him it was okay.
And, of course, there was no way he'd be able to see Hiccup–
Not that you were going to see Hiccup, Jack forcibly reminded himself, angrily pulling at the loose threads of his blue hoodie. It's clear, from all the letters he's ignored, that he's either dead or firmly decided that he doesn't want to see you again. It's time to face the truth... you're never going to see Hiccup again.
Outside of the window, the moon glinted with knowing light.