Shudder

A/N: I know this chapter is kinda short, but the next few should go over 2 or 3k. I wanted this one to be 2k, but I didn't really know how to continue it without making it feel awkward and choppy. I'm horrible at having a chapter flow -.- I need to work on that. Anyway, the title of this story might be changed later, and it doesn't make sense now, but once the actual AU starts taking place, I think it will make a lot more sense.

Anyway, this wouldn't have even been written, except that I really wanted to go see HTTYD2 again, and GUYS OMIGOSH THERE WAS THIS HUGE LIKE CARDBOARD STAND FOR IT AT THE THEATER THAT READ, 'THIS SUMMER, THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO FLY' LIKE OH MY GOSH GUYS OH MY GOSH I FREAKING LOST IT. I took a picture of it, too xD I loved it so much x3 I'm actually surprised at how much I liked this movie, considering how low my expectations were for it. I loved the first one, but when I found out the second one was five years in the future, I thought it was going to fall flat. But no, actually, it was really amazing, and I loved it! I do disagree with Jay Baruchel when he says it blew the first one out of the water, because I still like the first one better MOSTLY BECAUSE STOICK DOESN'T FREAKING DIE I SWEAR HICCUP FREAKING NEEDS A FATHER AND DREAMWORKS DOESN'T EVEN FREAKING CARE GOD ;-;

The air smells like smoke, but I'm not really smelling it. Faintly, I taste the ashes on my tongue, but I'm not really tasting them. I mechanically take the wooden bow and arrow Gobber offers me, but I don't even register that they're there, in my hands. I'm not really here. And I know that my father deserves better than that, deserves his son to be present at his funeral, but living in the present just hurts so much.

How do I go on now? Where do I go? How do I get out of this dark corner that his absence has backed me into?

Vaguely, I register that Gobber's speaking and my eyes are wet. I don't try to stop the tears when they fall. All I can do is watch that last bit of my father sail farther and farther away from me. I light the arrowhead with the embers at my feet, orange-yellow flames springing to life on the metal tip. I envy the fire, for how alive it must feel. I think I've died along with my father.

I pull the bowstring tight, knowing tears are blurring my vision, but letting the flaming arrow fly all the same. I watch it soar into the sky and find its target, the boat. Another tear escapes.

Gobber has fallen silent. I realize that this is supposed to mean it's my turn, that a chieftain's successor is always supposed to say a few words. I don't want to say a few words. I want to run, as far and fast as I can. I want to find a quiet place all alone and cry my heart out for everything that I have lost today.

But somehow, some way, across the span of years and months and weeks and days, across the span of oceans and clouds, one of my father's teachings comes back to me: "A chief is a leader first, and a man second."

So I swallow back my uncertainties, and begin to speak as the others shoot their arrows, too.

"I was so afraid of being like my father…" I didn't even know I was going to start like this, but here I am. "Mostly because I didn't think I could. I mean, how do you be like somebody that brave? That…that selfless…" I'm crying again, my voice surely shaking with sobs. I want to stop. I don't want to speak anymore.

I remember how eager I was, when I was younger, to be a man. I'd scowl fiercely at anyone who called me 'little' and argue with my dad until the cows came home about how I really was a tough and fearless Viking man, just like him. Without him by my side, I suddenly feel as small and helpless as a little boy again. Slowly shrinking down, curling in on myself, deeper and deeper. I keep trying to shut the world out like a kid who can't figure out why there are all these loud noises. And, like a kid, I can't understand why this isn't working.

"I don't know," I whisper through my tears, still crying and shaking.

And then I think of Toothless, still under Drago's command, still being controlled by the alpha, and that knife in my chest rips even deeper. I have lost nearly everything today, things that I took for granted, like my father, or things that I thanked the gods for every morning, like Toothless.

And some of these things, like my father, are things I can't ever, ever get back. And some of these things, like Toothless, still have hope. There's still hope for him.

And though it feels like I'm bleeding sorrow and regret and grief and every other emotion imaginable, even though I feel like running and screaming and crying until I can't run or scream or cry anymore, I remember my father's words. "A chief is a leader first and a man second." And now I realize that he taught me that so, when something like this happened, I would know how to go on. I would not simply sink down and give up, letting the world have its way with me. He taught me to fight against everything that fate and the gods threw at me, and to come out stronger for it.

My heart squeezes in my chest. The hot tears blur my eyes. But now, for the first time, I truly understand that he wasn't trying to pressure me when he said that, but trying to teach me something. I swipe at my eyes, and I'm still crying, silent tears pouring down my face, into the ocean, where they float away, forgotten, and sobs trapping themselves in my chest and making it hard to breathe. And I'm watching my father's boat fade into the distance, behind thick and murky gray fog.

But I know now that my father tried his hardest to teach me how to be a fighter, and I realize now that fighting is what I have to do.

It seems like an eternity that we stand there, watching the boat fade out of sight and yet, it also feels like five seconds. I feel the others watching me, staring at me, waiting for my next move. I want to turn around and tell them that I have no plan, that I'm flat-out of ideas and a complete failure, but I don't. My father did not teach me to be a failure. He taught me to be a fighter. And that is what I'm going to do. I'm going to fight. I'm going to fight for him. For Toothless. For Astrid. For Mom. For everyone.

So I turn to look at them and I try to speak. I sound lost and scared, and I more mumble than announce, but I manage to get the words out, which feels like it takes a world of effort. "We have to go back."

"How?" Ruffnut crosses her arms, discarding her bow and raising one eyebrow. "Drago took all of our dragons, remember?"

I frown slightly as I consider this newest problem. I have been so caught up in thinking that the only thing I need to do now is get Toothless back and kick Drago off of that ridiculously high pedestal upon which he holds himself that I haven't really given a thought to how we're going to get off this island, and back to Berk. The moment this thought occurs, that any dragon we use will just be another for his army, a memory makes me smile. All the baby dragons clamoring over the alpha, chittering and chirping, until the bigger dragon shook them off without so much as a second look.

And my smile just grows bigger when I pull myself back out of the past, because now I don't just have something to fight for, I have something to hope for, as well. "Not all of them," I tell her, and they exchange confused looks, but I don't have time to explain anything.

Mom kind of blinks at me, but after a second, she sort of smiles as she understands. I run for the ice cave where the dragons used to reside, the dragons now commanded by Drago.

But we're going to get them back, I tell myself as I rush into the cave, scrambling over rocks and ice, looking around for the babies. There are a few wandering forlornly around the empty nest, as if looking for their alpha once again, but they're not really doing anything.

And suddenly, my heart squeezes again as I realize they are just as lost and alone as I am. They no longer have a leader, an alpha. I no longer have my father to show me the way. I have always felt a stronger connection with my dragon companions than with my human friends, but suddenly, I understand why. Right now, they completely get what I'm feeling, even though they're too young to know what grief is. They're too young to understand death, but they understand that their alpha is gone and that they miss him.

A gentle hand on my shoulder makes me look up. "Hiccup?" Mom is looking kind of concerned about me, and I know that she's guessed the dark path my thoughts have suddenly taken.

I try to smile for her. "I'm okay. C'mon. Let's get going."

"What are we doing?" Astrid appears behind me, one hand clenched around the handle of her axe. The twins, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and Gobber follow her in instantly, but Eret peeks in kind of cautiously, as if he's trying to decide whether or not he really wants to be involved in this.

"We're using the dragons that Drago left," I gesture to the babies, all crooning and moaning sadly for their lost alpha.

"Why are they doing that?" Tuffnut demands, putting his hands over his ears, as if hoping to block out the noise.

I kneel down next to them, picking a purple one up in my arms. He's small, but speedy and big enough to ride. I just hope that these dragons can carry us, because they have to. "They're looking for their alpha. They're trying to find their leader again, and they can't understand that he's gone." My voice kind of trembles, but nobody seems to notice, and I try to pretend that it didn't happen.

"Everybody, pick a dragon and let's get going. Drago's still out there, and he's still got our dragons."