Frosted Scales - When Worlds Collide: A HTTYD X Frozen Tale

Fish and Vikings

The dim light of the fire flickered across the walls of Hiccup's wooden fort, casting long shadows that danced in rhythm with the crackling flames. The room was filled with the warm scent of roasting fish, mingling with the earthy aroma of the wood and the faint salty tang carried by the breeze from the nearby sea. The table, roughly carved but sturdy, held a steaming plate of fish, its aroma rich and inviting. Hiccup, seated at one end of the table, slid the plate across to the empty seat opposite him. “I did make you some.”

Elsa hesitated for a moment before reaching out, her movements careful and restrained, as if unsure whether she was truly welcome to partake in the meal. Her fingers brushed against the edge of the plate, and she slowly pulled it closer, the warmth of the food contrasting sharply with the coolness that always lingered at her fingertips. Despite her hunger, she ate with a quiet elegance, each movement precise and controlled, a stark contrast to the wild energy that simmered beneath her composed exterior.

Hiccup watched her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He noticed the way her gaze lingered on the food, betraying a deeper hunger that she tried to conceal. Her posture, though regal and poised, could not entirely mask the underlying tension that radiated from her every movement. It reminded him of the many times he had seen warriors on Berk, trained to suppress their instincts in favor of discipline and decorum. A flicker of amusement tugged at the corner of his lips as he recalled his father’s stern lessons in table manners, lessons that had often ended in laughter or frustration.

When Elsa finished her meal, she looked up at Hiccup, her blue eyes filled with a hesitant hope. “Um...not to sound too greedy but... is there more? I understand if there is not.”

Hiccup’s face softened into a smile as he stood. “Hold that thought.” He gathered her plate and moved to the cooking area, where a large cauldron of fish still bubbled gently over the fire. The heat of the flames licked at his skin as he ladled another serving onto her plate. Returning to the table, he slid the refilled plate towards her with a reassuring nod. “Being from a small Viking village means we know how to fish. There's plenty.”

To emphasize his point, Hiccup grabbed a large net from the corner of the room and dragged it to the center, where he let it spill its contents. A cascade of fresh fish scattered across the floor, their scales gleaming like silver coins in the firelight. Toothless, who had been lounging by the doorway, immediately perked up at the sight. With a joyous thump of his tail, the dragon leapt forward and snapped up a fish, swallowing it in one swift motion.

Elsa’s expression shifted to one of mild disgust as she watched the dragon’s enthusiastic display. “Oh, sorry. He's a bit messy,” Hiccup remarked as he retook his seat, a hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.

“That doesn't bother me,” Elsa replied, though her gaze remained on the dragon, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Her fingers tightened around the fork, and her eyes narrowed slightly as if assessing him anew. “You're a Viking?” Her voice carried an edge, a quiet suspicion laced with fear.

Hiccup felt the air grow tense, the warmth of the room suddenly seeming to cool. Elsa rose from her seat, her hands beginning to glow with a soft, blue light, like the first hint of dawn over a frozen landscape. Hiccup’s mind raced, his thoughts tripping over one another in a desperate search for the right words to defuse the situation. Before he could speak, the silence was broken by the low rumble of Elsa’s stomach. Toothless, ever the opportunist, leaned forward and hacked up a half-eaten fish onto her plate, his eyes encouraging her to take it.

Elsa flushed with embarrassment, her eyes darting between the dragon and the slimy carcass. “Well...I...” she stammered, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Hiccup chuckled softly, the tension in his chest loosening just a little.