Hiccup sighed, looking out over his home. Berk. In a word, resilient. It had been through multiple radical changes in the last five years, and faced more hardships in that time than anyone could remember. The wind was always howling around the sea stacks, and the sun always had to fight with clouds on the horizon to shine. If the weather wasn't squawling outside, the people were brawling in. The winter nights were cold enough to freeze a man's piss, and the summer wet enough to grow moss on one's ass if they stood still too long. The only upsides were the roommates. While some places had wastrels or wenches, Berk... well, pretty much everyone in the world knew what Berk had. Dragons. Lots and lots of dragons. And now it was not just his home. It was his responsibility.
Toothless sensed his friend's brooding thoughts, nudging at his arm, and he smiled down comfortingly. "It's okay, bud. I'll be fine. I just... I always thought I'd have Dad with me when I reached this point... There to show me the right way to do things..."
He suddenly noticed a figure clambering up one of the cliffs, and he strained his eyes to try and see who it was. Though as the moon began to climb up above the horizon, he caught the armor, cloak, and flowing red hair of Valka. His mother. He sighed a bit, starting to clamber up onto Toothless' back. "She's been having trouble settling in... Twenty years alone, being in this place must seem like another world to her." Toothless nodded, before taking off, swooping towards the overlook, arriving just as she reached the top.
Hearing the sudden rush of wings, Valka started for a moment, before relaxing as she realized who it was that had discovered her. "Oh, Hiccup... It's you." She offered a smile. "What are you doing up here so late? I would think you'd be down joining your friends at the tavern."
Hiccup chuckled softly as he swung himself from Toothless' back, giving the Night Fury a soft pat. "I could ask you the same thing... Mom." The word still seemed a bit strange, having been so long since he said it. Twenty years of believing that she was dead, only to find out the truth, had been another in a long list of shocks. But this was one change he knew he would enjoy going through.
Valka sighed softly, before turning her head to gaze out over the water. Across the bay, they could see the statue of the late Stoick the Vast, chiseled into the cliff face by the hands of his people in loving memory. They had been careful to work his likeness well, paying tribute to his noble sacrifice. Hiccup followed her gaze, and his face fell, watching as the former chieftess moved to sit upon the lip of the cliff, her feet hanging over the ledge. Having lived so long among dragons, Valka had no real fear of heights left; in fact, she seemed more comfortable aloft than she did with her feet planted on the ground. In the light of the moon, the polished stone seemed to glow across the statue's surface, the somber tone mirrored on the face of his mother.
"It's not the same down there..." she admitted sadly. "There are so many new faces, and those I do know have changed so much. For the better, but still... It's not home to me. Not yet, at any rate." She sighed deeply, lowering her eyes. "And without... him... It just doesn't feel like I belong here."
Hiccup felt his heart throb, moving to sit next to his mother, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He felt her stiffen for a moment, before she relaxed into him, and he let her rest his head upon him. "I miss him too. Every minute of every day. But you do belong here, Mom. I'm glad to have you back, and I know a lot of the others are, too." He heard her sniffle a bit, a tear leaking from her eye. Seeking for a way to comfort her, he called to mind the song that she and Stoick had bonded once more under. Starting to hum the melody as he searched for the words.
Valka shuddered, leaning against her son, though as the first notes of the tune leapt into her ears, her cheeks flushed. "Hiccup... Really? His song?" She sighed, feeling her son's arms around her. The same way her husband had held her before when she feared for her son's survival, or when she had fallen ill... It was comforting, familiar. Even more when she heard the young man begin to sing.
