makligr, httyd

i. three years peace

𖣯 ✹ 🌷(makligr) ꏍ ！┈─❟
╰───►chapter one; yrsa
❝ three years peace! ❞

    IN THREE years, Berk has changed a lot.

Sure, it was still unusual━very unusual. At first glimpse, of course, it looked rather normal; boring in fact. Just a small island north of the great Archipelago shrouded with mountains and cliffs and their very own glacier. But it was far from unusual, that was for sure. And in the three years since the battle against the Red Death, and the Berserker War━oh, the tales Yrsa could tell━things in Berk finally started to settle down.

The only thing that didn't settle, were the pets.

Well, you see, while most places have dogs or horses.

Here, on Berk, they had:

    Dragons.

And in the three years since, dragons have made Berk their home, and the Vikings who lived on the island welcomed them with open arms. Sure, they had a lot of their troubles, but they've learned to live with it, to work around it and alongside it. Now, they were at peace. Everything was over, and they could live their lives. No Outcasts, no Berserkers, no Screaming Deaths. Yrsa Olofsdotter was starting to finally grow up. And so we're the rest of her friends.

The menace that was Snotlout Jorgenson now worked at the armoury. It required little brain cells, so the mean young adult could think little and do more, because who else would let himself be titled the 'Official Weapons Tester'? Yrsa saw his brick-square-faced self be thrown out of far too many catapults for it to be healthy. But hey, it was better than having him be thrown off Hookfang twenty-four seven ... except that still happens, too. The Twins, to no ones surprise, decided to dedicate their lives to Loki, the god of mischief. Of course, those who had the━uh━pleasure to know them sometimes couldn't even tell them apart. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were freakishly identical despite being of differing genders. Fishlegs, as expected, has taken on teaching the young children of Berk the history of dragons. He was a big boy, with little chin and a potbelly from all the chicken he consumed. When he wasn't spoiling his dragon, Meatlug, or showing around small scout tours, one could find his large, round nose in the Book of Dragons, reading over the notes they've made dozens and dozens of times. And, of course, Astrid took to joining the Berk Guard, ready to defend her home with her Nadder, Stormfly at any given moment. She was still the ever-promising, ever-striking shield maiden as she was three years ago━if not more. Beautiful, blond-haired, blue-eyed; Astrid was the perfect example of what to achieve to be.

Yrsa, herself, still knew exactly what she was doing ... well, somewhat. She was still the same snobby, elegant (and a little crazy) Viking as she ever was, with bangs that were not so choppy anymore, and braids dangling either side of her face. But she was three years senior, now. Yrsa was growing to be quite the regal woman, and knew that very well. But she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She and her Devilish Dervish, Helrose, might be found helping Vikings build the new and upcoming Hangar, or perhaps taking orders in the blacksmith's forge. She was starting to become everything Berk needed in a future chief's wife ... only problem was, while everyone assumed, and everyone knew, looking at Yrsa with pride and excitement, she and Hiccup were still ... well ...

It was complicated.

Right now, Yrsa focused on one thing, and one thing only; being one of his closest and most trusted friends.

He wasn't taking Astrid's news of joining the Berk Guard too well. As the three years passed, there became little need for the Academy. There were no threats, Dagur was safely in prison, no new islands nor dragons. One by one, they all started to leave and go their own way. Now, all there was left was Hiccup and Toothless, and Yrsa knew that he was too stubborn to admit that the search could be over. He was getting older now, and part of Yrsa wondered whether he wasn't just wanting to explore ... but was also using it as an excuse to escape his future responsibilities.