Into the Archipelago(HTTYD one-shots)

Yakking Nog

I was currently sitting in the Great Hall for dinner, discussing chores that need to be done to prepare for the dragons to return after Snoggletog. "We need fresh bedding for the babies and we need more fish." I say, writing it down on my list. "We also need to clean up the unused stalls incase more dragons show up."

"Why do I have a feeling we are going to be put in charge of that?" I hear Ruff ask her brother.

"You said it sister. We're always the ones having to clean up the messes," Tuff complains. 

"That's because you cause most of them," I say, keeping my eyes on my parchment.

"Why do the dragons leave at this time of the year?" Eret asks suddenly. We all sit strait up, dumb-struck, before staring at Fishlegs. His eyes grow wide, a worried expression on his face.

"Stop staring at me! Some people don't like it when people put too much pressure on him to always know the answers!!" he shouts, flinging his hands in the air before burying his face in his arms on the table.

"He's losing it." Snotlout sing-songs, smirking. "I would never let the pressures of a few vikings crack me like that, Babe." He adds, looking over at Ruff, who groans with annoyance. 

"Oh, gods," I sigh, going back to my list. The large double doors open to reveal Astrid carrying a shield with mugs and a pitcher on top.

"Oh,no," Snotlout says beside me. Fishlegs sits up, wanting to know what's going on.

"What? What's wrong?" Eret asks, worried. 

"Yaknog," Lout answers.

The twins stand up from the table, trying to make their escape. Astrid catches sight of us, waving her free hand and hurrying over. This is the only time of the year where she's overly friendly and... giving (which we could all live without). The twins stop behind us, groaning.

"What's Yaknog?" Eret asks. I begin to open my mouth to answer, but am cut off.

"Happy Snoggletog, everyone!" Astrid says, bending over between Fishlegs and I to give me a quick peck on the lips before going around to the other side of the table, and setting the shield down. Fishlegs lets out a wimper and I can see Eret scrunching his nose at the smell, from where he's sat on the opposite side of Snotlout.

"Odin help us," Lout prays, clasping his hands together.

I turn to face Astrid, who's pouring the frothy and clumpy concoction into a mug, a gigantic and enthusiastic smile plastered on her face. "Who wants the first mug of Yaknog of the season?" she asks, looking at us expectantly. 

We all lean away from the table in fear: me looking at Astrid, Legs looking at me, out looking at Tuff, Tuff looking at Ruff, Eret looking at Snotlout, and Ruff looking at the doors at the opposite end of the large hall. And as if some bell goes off, everyone starts pointing fingers: Fishlegs pointing at me, Eret at me, Tuff at me, Ruff at Tuff, and Snotlout throws an arm around my shoulders, gesturing for Astrid to pass the mug forward. I thought family was supposed to have your back, Snotlout. Guess that doesn't include deadly holiday drinks from a violent viking woman. 

"Yeah, this is way funnier," Ruff says, moving her finger from pointing at Tuffnut to me.

"Why do I have to drink it?" I whisper to Snotlout.

"The way I see it, you have two choices: keep the woman and your pride, or keep your dinner in your stomach."

Truer words Snot-man. Your girlfriend H. You drink the Yaknog," Tuff says.  

"Besides, if you die, a better chief would come into power.... Me." Lout adds.

I sigh, defeated. "I'd love a mug, M'lady." I tell her. 

"I'm so glad," she says, pushing the mug across the table, it stopping in front of me. 

I can feel the others' smirks boring holes in my head. Except Fishlegs, who just looks sorry. The gods hate me. What did I do to deserve this? Toothless pushes his way between Snotlout and I, his front feet on the bench. He sniffs at the mug before growling at it and walking off. After he's gone, we all lean forward, peering inside the mug. I wrap my hand around it, taking in a deep breath, readying myself. Goodbye cruel world. I'll see in Valhalla soon, Dad. I honestly think losing my other foot is better than this torture. And, I bring the mug to my lips....

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hiccstrid_lover_98