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New Year’s Eve was certainly... an event. While this was by far the best celebration Dagur had ever had of it (and others usually involved seeing Heather off to her own parties and watching TV by himself), that didn’t mean it wasn’t a hellfire bravely contained in Dragon’s Edge’s back garden.
“Would you just shut up? ” Hiccup screamed for the fiftieth time.
“Nay now, dear Hiccy, one must scream their achievements from the rooftops,” Tuffnut said, patting him on the head. His face was as solemn as could be, considering he was halfway to being utterly wasted, and the most incurable of pranksters.
Hiccup’s face settled into a look that screamed: ‘if he actually goes onto the roof, I might just shoot him and myself’ .
In short, as overjoyed as Dagur was to be celebrating with his favourite people in the world, they may have gone overboard on the drinking... way too early.
“ Wa-hoo! ” Astrid yelled in excitement, climbing the gutter pipe of the building with ease and standing on the flat roof of the kitchen.
“Astrid, get down right this second,” Hiccup practically growled. Dagur could see oceans of worry behind his cross face.
“Oh, don’t worry honey, I’ll be ok,” she said, an impossibly happy grin splitting her face. Hiccup would be lying if it wasn’t good to see her this happy... but it would also be lying if the lack of regard for her safety didn’t seriously worry him.
She cleared her throat and got back to announcing. “Hello everyone! What a glorious day to celebrate a new year! Oooh! How about... we dance ?” She swung onto the patio, much to Hiccup’s terror, did a near-flawless dive roll, and stood cheerily in front of Hiccup.
“May I have this dance?”
“There’s no music,” he said.
“Then we’ll get some!” She replied with impossible amounts of energy. Giggling, she skipped into the house, humming something under her breath.
“Happy, reckless drunk,” Dagur muttered to himself, still sitting calmly by the fire pit. “Couldn’t have guessed that one.”
“HEATHER!” Ruffnut yelled across the lawn. “Wanna dance with me?”
“Sure,” Heather said, and let Ruffnut sweep her into a ballroom dance. But she was so drunk and uncoordinated, it looked more like Ruffnut was dancing with a corpse.
“Sleepy and uncoordinated drunk,” Dagur said, watching his sister trip on thin air. Unfortunately, as drinking went in the Dérangé family bloodline, Dagur and Heather seemed to have landed at opposite ends of the spectrum. He’d had two glasses of cider, only one of vodka, and was on his way through a glass of red wine he’d brought with him- enough to normally get someone decently drunk. But he swore on his heavyweight-ness. Unfortunately, his sister couldn't say the same for herself: one glass of cider and she was somehow drunk already.
“C'mon, Heather! I wanna show you my flying fruit bats!” Ruffnut got bored of dancing, and dragged Heather inside somewhere. On her way out, she crashed into Hiccup, and stamped her foot. “You idiot! Are you missing an eye and a leg?”
“Are you missing sobriety?” Hiccup shot back, a scowl on his face.
Snappy drunk, Dagur thought. It was probably useful to catalogue such information. For future references, he told himself. But he didn't plan on letting them drink this much any time soon. Watching Heather and Ruffnut get dragged inside, he concluded it was for the best that he clear off and head back to the firepit. And maybe put the alcohol back in his car.
“Hey, Dagur! Lovely to see our favourite older brother!” She beamed, giving him a tight one-armed hug.
Older brother? Dagur pretended he was spluttering on his glass of wine when she pulled away. She handed him a marshmallow on a stick, and pointed eagerly to the fire.
“Thanks,” he said, sticking it into the flames, watching it begin to solidify on top. “How’re you?”
“I feel fantastic- it’s like I have wings ,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out. Her marshmallow stick flew into a bush somewhere, but he doubted she cared- or noticed.
“Astrid, how much have you had to drink?” A third, irritated voice came from behind them.
“Oh, you know me, not much.” She shrugged, batting her eyelids (a gesture obscenely unlike her). “Just a few glasses, and those shots Snotlout’s doing- he’s a great guy, you know. We’re just friends, but he’s such a sweetie pie!” She grinned, making noises of adore.
“You normally hate him,” Hiccup deadpanned.
“Hate him? That’s not like me, I don't hate anyone!”
Dagur chuckled to himself, wishing he got her words on video to tease her with when she was sober.
“You keep telling yourself that,” he said, wandering over to Snotlout’s shots station, where he and Tuffnut were engaged in increasingly worrying positions to take shots from. Dagur watched, seriously impressed, as Tuffnut downed a shot of neat vodka in one go standing on his head.
Crazy drunk. He shook his head. Really, the kids should make an effort to be less predictable.
“I wonder if Belch would like to try some,” Tuffnut wandered, removing the bearded dragon from his hoodie pocket, and Dagur -his heart skyrocketing- decided to intervene.
“I don’t think that would be the best idea,” he said, all but knocking the bottle of vodka out of Tuffnut’s hand.
“Yeah, you’re always, like so right, Dagur,” Snotlout slurred, seriously drunk. Dagur was beginning to contemplate how they would all make it to New Year’s day. “You’re like... way righter than left.” He and Tuffnut began laughing uproariously.
Snotlout gasped, as Hookfang -deciding he had got bored of Snotlout’s hoodie pocket- poked his tiny head out. “Aww, Hooky,” Snotloug laughed as he crawled onto his head. He was overcome with a wave of something emotionally potent, because he suddenly started crying, cupping the poor, little gecko in his hands. “I love you, Hooky. You’re my everything. You’re the reason my heart goes ba-dum, ba-dum,” he said, carrying on mumbling ‘ba-dum’.
Emotional drunk, Dagur grinned to himself. Classic.
He busied himself with pouring himself another glass of cider, even going to the fridge and de-stalking a few strawberries. He’s in the process of pouring cranberry juice for the others when a “what the hell? ” followed by an audible slap sounded from outside.
“ Shit! ” He cursed, and ran outside.
The sight that met his eyes was more than surprising: Fishlegs, standing over a weeping Snotlout.
“That’s what you get for trying to poison me!” Fishlegs screeched.
“But Fishy,” he pouted pitifully, “I love you...”
“You should have thought of that before turning against me!” He screamed, sprinting into the house. A few moments later, he slammed the bedroom window.
Snotlout curled into a ball and cried sorrowfully.
He walked over to the scene. “Hey, may I sit here?” Dagur asked, his voice gentle. Snotlout mumbled consent. “What’s wrong?”
“F- Fishy doesn’t love me.”
“And do you love him?”
Snotlout nodded, rocking himself. “We’ve been dating for months, I thought he’d-”
“Snotlout, he’s quite drunk, he’s not thinking clearly,” he said.
“B- but drunk confessions are supposed to be sober thoughts, or something,” Snotlout mumbled, sniffing.
“Snotlout, alcohol lowers your secret-keeping filter. If you’ve never told him you love him before, he’ll obviously be surprised.” Snotlout nodded feebly. “Plus, alcohol makes his OCD worse, so right now, he thinks everyone is out to kill him in some grand-scale intrusive thought.”
“Oh. That’s not good,” Snotlout said, wiping the tears off his sleeve.
“It isn’t, is it? Now, Fishlegs needs some space from people who are important to him so you both don’t get hurt- how about I talk to him?”
“You’d do that for me?” Snotlout gasped, his water-blue eyes wide. “Aww, thanks, Dagur!” He tackled him with a hug. “You’re the best big brother ever!”
Big brother, he thought, rolling the words around his head as he headed for Snotlout and Fishlegs’s room. I like the sound of that.
“Hey, Fishlegs?” Dagur knocked on his door. “I’m Dagur Dérangé, you… know me. Can I come in please?”
Fishlegs didn't reply.
“Come on, Fishlegs. At least let me know you're ok. Please.”
Still no answer. Dagur was contemplating breaking in, but then Fishlegs opened the door a crack.
His eyes darted back and forth, then he let him in with a tense nod.
“Dagur, who sent you?” He demanded.
“No one, I sent myself,” he said calmly, deciding it was easiest to tell the truth.
“Oh? And why are you here?” Fishlegs said, retreating to his bed and pressing his back to the wall.
“I’m here to ask if you're ok, that's all.”
Fishlegs contemplated the question for a while. Then he said “I’m fine, why do you want to know? Do I not seem fine?”
“You do,” he lied, “I'm just checking on everyone. You've all had a lot to drink, and I was wondering if you remember how much you've had.”
“ Ha! ” Fishlegs let out a bark of laughter. “Of course I remember. Hm… let me see.” He trailed off, coming to the concerning realisation he did not know how much he'd had. “Two glasses of cider, and one of beer. Oh, and Snotlout did shots in the garden while Heather and Ruffnut were dancing. You know, I forgot to ask what was in them.” He paused, once again coming to a conclusion that made his eyes darken.
“He poisoned me! The cruel, wicked-”
“Fishlegs, he didn't poison you!” Dagur screamed back. Almost instantly, he regretted losing his temper. Hmm… he was normally more controlled of his feelings than this; maybe the alcohol was affecting him harder than he thought. “I'm sorry. I lost my head. Anyway.” He took a deep breath. “How about I get a shot and drink it myself so you're sure it's not poisoned?”
Fishlegs looked at him quizzically. “Very well.”
“Oh, on one condition.”
“What?” Fishlegs snapped.
“You come downstairs and get a drink. Of water .”
.o0o.
“Hiccup, please! ”
“Astrid, we are way too young to get married.”
“But I love you.”
Dagur’s heart dropped into his shoes. He had to suppress a chuckle. Astrid must be wasted if she was talking semi seriously about marriage.
“Brother?” He called, leaving Fishlegs in the kitchen with his glass of water. “Astrid?”
Tuffnut sat on the backrest of the sofa, cackling, and asking repeatedly “Alexa, are you a slut?”
It answered “I’m not going to respond to that” and Tuffnut cackled hysterically, falling off the sofa.
Dagur walked past him to find Hiccup and Astrid on the patio, shouting increasingly louder at each other.
He threw himself between the two. “Hold on, hold on. You two both need to calm down.”
“ Both? ” They asked, horrified, in perfect unison.
“Look, you’re both too drunk to have a sensible conversation,” he said, a hand raised in both their directions. “Get a drink of water, and sit by the fire, it’s-” he checked his watch “-twenty minutes until midnight.”
“Fine.” Hiccup huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets, and went to sit by the fire. Astrid took three steps, and kicked the wall, tears leaking out of her eyes.
“Woah woah woah, just take it easy, okay?” Dagur raised his hands to Astrid’s shoulders to calm her. “He’s upset because he’s had too much to drink, and you raised a question I don’t think either of you are ready to think about.”
“Dagur, I love him.” Her sky-blue eyes were sparkling in earnest.
“I don’t doubt that, believe me.” He chuckled. “But you need to apologise for pushing him.”
She looked at him, biting back a pout in her lip. “I still wanna ask him. Just ask him if he wants to spend life with me.”
“Tell you what. If you wake up tomorrow wanting to ask him still, and you’re sober enough, you can ask him.”
Astrid beamed, springing back to her drunk-happy self instantly. She skipped to the firepit, picked up a marshmallow and began to toast it.
Satisfied, Dagur turned his attention back to Fishlegs. He remained sitting in the kitchen, slowly sipping the water. It must’ve had some kind of good effect on him, because he was beaming.
“Hey, Dagur. I feel better now, thank you.”
“I’m glad.” He smiled genuinely. Much as he acted like the kids were the biggest pain in his ass known to humanity, he loved them all like family.
“I even let Snotlout hang around before he went to the firepit,” he added.
“Good job, Fish. Would you like to come and join us?”
He chewed on his lip, like he was biting back something. “Maybe at the countdown.”
“Okay.”
And with that, Dagur left to join the others at the firepit.
Whatever calm he’d managed to wage over the teens was gone like a drop of water in the firepit. Hiccup and Astrid were sitting apart from each other; an odd enough sight in itself, but what was somehow worse was the four way argument between them, Snotlout and Ruffnut.
He squinted closer, and realised his sister was lying beside Ruffnut, knocked out cold.
“-and everyone knows fruit bats don’t come out until the third day of spring; it’s the first. day. of Spring today! ” Ruffnut yelled at the top of her lungs, clearly very upset about something. The other few didn’t appear to be listening, as they continued on with what sounded like an actual argument.
“-for Thor’s sake, Ruffnut, you’re insufferable- ”
“-I said I’m sorry-”
“- ’sorry’ doesn’t bring back my garlic bread -”
Yikes . Dagur cringed.
“Alright, break it up.” He planted himself firmly between the four. “We have five -scratch that, four minutes until midnight. Do you really want to start the new year drunk and angry?”
“But my garlic bread-”
“These people are driving me insane , Dagur-”
“And Fishlegs still doesn’t love me-”
“ FRUIT BATS! ”
Something snapped in Dagur’s throat. “Alright, ENOUGH! ”
Everyone fell uncharacteristically silent.
“We have one hundred and twenty seconds before New Year, and you all are telling me you’re spending it yelling at each other over garlic bread ?” A part of Dagur wanted to chuckle at the hilarity of the statement, but he withheld it.
It was -surprisingly- Astrid who spoke first. She hung her head, and said “Snotlout, I’m sorry for threatening to kill you over garlic bread. Even if you did throw it into the fire. It wasn't your fault.”
“Thanks. And I'm sorry for not being more careful with your food,” the Jorgenson said solemnly.
“Astrid-” Hiccup started, but she shook her head.
“I shouldn't have been so pushy. I'm more than happy to wait until we're actual adults to think about marriage. I just wanted to know you love me.”
“Of course I love you, my dear.” Hiccup's eyes were softened with love. “I love you so much.”
“Kisses on the New Year?” Astrid offered, raising her eyebrows in hope.
“Kisses on the New Year,” Hiccup returned.
“You won't have to wait for long,” Dagur said, looking at the countdown on his watch. 23:59:17, 23:59:18, 23:59:19
“ FISHLEGS! TUFFNUT! ” Dagur screamed, unexpected panic surging through him. He didn't want their little group incomplete on the turn of the New Year.
Fishlegs was easy to find. He hadn't moved from the kitchen, and was shaking slightly.
When he spoke, his voice was low and venomous. “They're fighting out there.”
“They were , but I dealt with it, and you're about to miss New Year!”
Fishlegs ran to the firepit without complaint, which left Dagur to drag Tuffnut by the arms to the others.
23:59:45, 23:59:46…
“C'mon, Tuff, work with me here?” The boy, semi consciousness and very giggly, nodded vaguely.
“Oh for God's sake, we're gonna miss New Year,” Dagur near-cried in despair.
“It's New Year? Why didn't you say so?” Tuffnut was out of his grasp like a rocket, and sat beside his friend at the fire.
He cleared his throat. “I just want to report you are the friendliest lovelies I've ever follow Facebooked.” Those were his last words before he fell backwards onto the grass, out cold.
“Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six,” Dagur began to count down, feeling his heart race.
“Five… Four… Three… Two… One!”
“ Happy New Year! ” Everyone shrieked, raising mostly empty cups to the silver glow of the moon. Hiccup and Astrid turned towards each other, and kissed passionately.
Ruffnut pretended to gag. “Ew, get a room, you two.” She turned to Fishlegs and Snotlout, who were doing very much the same. “Ugh. I still think you guys are gross and mushy, and I still don’t think fruit bats are around this time of year. But,” her face softened, “you do you, guys.”
“Moss and grushy is rich coming from the girl with her girl crush in her lap,” Tuffnut shot, lifting his head from the ground long enough to finish his sentence, before immediately falling back down again.
Ruffnut started in shock, her cheeks going red, but Dagur nudged her with a wink. “I guarantee you everyone is too drunk to remember this.”
“Okay!” She said cheerily.
Astrid raised her hand eagerly, her face shining with happiness. “I think we should all sing a song! ”
“Yeah! Let’s all sing, and be happy, an- and-” Snotlout broke off into tears again.
“You know, there is a traditional New Year’s day song. It’s called Auld Lang Syne , and it’s Scots for ‘old long since’,” said Dagur. “Do you all know how it goes?”
Everyone nodded, save for Heather, who was still asleep, and Tuffnut, who was giggling quietly on the grass. As everyone stood in a circle to link their arms and sing it, Ruffnut groaned, dragging her brother and her crush to their feet, propping them up either side of her.
“Someone else is hauling their lazy asses inside,” she grumbled.
“ Should auld acquaintance be forgot, ” Dagur started singing, prompting the others to do the same.
“ And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?
“For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet for auld lang syne.
“And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, and surely I'll be mine
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet for auld lang syne! ”
“ One more time! ” Dagur interjected.
“ “For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet for auld lang syne! ”
“YAY!” Everyone cheered, giddy with alcohol and happiness, content under the moonlight.
“Now that that’s done, Dagur, can we have some vodka mixers? Please? ” Ruffnut asked, clasping her hands together.
“Please, can we?”
“Pretty please!”
“We all want vodka mixers,” Astrid started singing to the tune of Merry Christmas. Everyone awake enough joined in.
“We all want vodka mixers, we all want vodka mixers, so bring some out here!”
“Sure thing. Six vodka mixers coming up,” he said. Everyone cheered as he went to the kitchen, and promptly poured them all a glass of cranberry juice.