Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon and all related characters and events belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks Animation.
When Hiccup woke, Toothless was nudging him with his nose. The surroundings were familiar, his house, but he had no memory of getting there. Toothless hopped all over the room, upsetting chairs, cooking pots, the roasting spit, clearly happy to see his rider awake. He looked odd without his false tailfin and saddle.
Hiccup sat up slowly, once normal actions but lately become unfamiliar and experimental. He felt...fuzzy, blurred at the edges, like one of his own charcoal scribbles. Strange, that. There was an odd taste in his mouth too, rusty, like metal, as if he had bitten his tongue. He was very thirsty.
He leaned forward in bed, trying to stand, to keep Toothless from destroying anything. And then he felt it, a strange pressure on his leg and an unfamiliar lack of response in his foot. He sat back, lifting the blanket with a hand that felt as thick and clumsy as a block of wood.
Wood. Rope. Leather straps buckled over his knee. And metal, a spring coil in a jointed frame, crude and elegant at the same time. He looked at it for a few seconds, numb, unfeeling as the ugly dead thing at the end of his leg.
He swung his legs-one whole, one maimed-over the side of the bed, carefully, gingerly, almost afraid to let the metallic thing touch the floor. Toothless sniffed it, nose wrinkling, and regarded his rider with those sad, wise dragon eyes.
Hiccup was breathing hard, forcing air into his lungs, keeping the fear and panic at bay. He stood, pushing himself up slowly, limbs shaking slightly, and took a cautious step. And then crumpled, pain flaring in his stump as the unfeeling metal caught on the floor and his knee bent painfully.
But Toothless was there, his head beneath Hiccup's hands, catching him, steadying him, pushing him back up. And Hiccup knew that Toothless had been there all along, waiting for him to wake, to walk, his presence an unspoken promise to carry Hiccup, air-borne or earth-bound.
Hiccup regained his balance, shakily, leaning on the dragon's flat head, and hobbled forward. It sounded different: the spring squeaked as it tightened under his weight, and the frame tapped on the floorboards. His stump throbbed with every step, and the straps pinched when he bent his knee.
When they reached the door, Hiccup looked down at Toothless and prayed silently for strength, for he had none of his own. Strength to take just another step, though his leg ached already. Strength to fly again, with Toothless, both of them freed from physical constraints. And strength to protect the friend who had protected him, no matter what lay on the other side of the door.
Grasping the handle, Hiccup put his metallic foot down and pulled.
The End,
or is it the Beginning?
