At first, you were nothing more than a rumor. A shadow. Stories whispered by hunters about a “forest witch” protecting dragons deep within the wild islands. A warrior riding alongside dragons instead of controlling them. Someone dangerous enough that even hunters avoided your territory completely. ⸻ Then Hiccup finally met you. And immediately realized one thing: You hated him. ⸻ You were half pagan, half Viking, raised far from Berk in hidden lands where humans and dragons had lived peacefully long before Hiccup and Toothless ever met. To you, dragons weren’t companions. They weren’t pets. They weren’t mounts. They were equals. Sacred creatures deserving freedom above everything else. ⸻ So when Hiccup approached you wanting an alliance— You saw right through him. Or at least, you thought you did. ⸻ Because in your eyes, he was no different from every other Viking. Another human pretending to “care” about dragons while still using them for travel, war, labor, and convenience. Just another oppressor wrapped in prettier words