A/n: Okay, I may or may not have ever-so-slightly watched HTTYD 2, and I just have a lot of feelings, okay? So I'm sharing them with you via the medium of fanfic. This movie has crushed my soul, and pretty significant spoilers are abound, so be wary of that.

Toothless was under some sort of... mind control. The alpha... it had him - Drago's bewilderbeast, a monster of a creature. And he was ready to attack. Toothless, ready to attack... me.

It's insane - I know - but it was happening... he was ready to kill me, blast me to naught but a smear on the rocks like I'd seen him do to so many boulders... the Green Death...

"Toothless..." Even if there was no hope, I had to try. For Toothless; for me. "Buddy..."

No amount of pleading, soft words, meaningful looks could save me now. I placed my hands out regardless - Vikings and their stubbornness issues damning me to stay, not shift out of the way and let the slowly charging shot fire harmlessly into the ice behind it.

How I wish I had.

"Come on, bud," I begged, looking into his eyes - barely slits, now - desperately. "It's me -"

Toothless growled around the fire emanating from his throat. I glanced sideways - my sword had fallen somewhere out of grasp, but where? - and scanned the area quickly. My last idea was gone, lost in the carnage that was the battle around me. But none of that mattered. Not anymore.

"Hiccup!"

Stoick. Dad. "Wait!" I shouted, sparing time to glance across. Time. I need more time. There wasn't enough to stop Stoick and calm Toothless. I needed to decide which to -

Too late; the decision was made for me. I'll do neither, and be shoved out of the way of the incoming blast.

I didn't get to see what happened; Stoick's shove forced me onto the ice, and that stuff's hard enough to give some serious headaches, especially when your head slams into it with such speed.

But there's no time to worry about that - concussions can wait. I needed to see what happened. Where's Stoick?

"Dad?" Suddenly, everything's blurred. I pushed myself up and made my way over to dad. He hasn't moved, he -

"No." He can't be. But even as I stumbled over, deep down, I knew.

Valka was there too, by the time my shaking legs have co-operated enough to let me get to him. I collapsed again as soon as I did, knees sinking to the floor as the weight of what might just have happened sank down on me.

Valka - mum, I need to start calling her that - has pressed her head against her husband's chest. Gods - she only got to see him for, what? An hour? I could tell from the moment her head rested what her announcement would be.

He was dead.

My father - chief of the tribe, undefeatable and stubborn as they come, with just enough sentiment to care for his wife and child, selfless enough to sacrifice himself for me -

For me. It's my fault. I realised grimly, staring at Stoick's body - corpse, now Oh Gods in equal parts horror and disbelief. Oh Gods. Gone. He was gone. Valk - mum looked to me, sad nod confirming what I already - Oh, Gods - knew.

"No..." I whispered, so quietly I may as well have mouthed it. Now, people were beginning to notice. Something was wrong, and the Berkians in the battle knew it. Their loyalty to the chief - previous chief, I reminded myself, I'm chief now... - easily overrode the call to battle. They would come; they would grieve; they would pity.

Toothless was the first to summon the courage to walk over, crooning sadly as he did. Toothless, the one who'd -

Something snapped.

"Go away," I spat, misdirected anger fuelling my words. Tears brimmed my eyes as I continued, spitting hate at my best friend.

Eventually, Toothless got the message. I watched, still glaring, as he turned, head bowed in shame as he walked off. Good. A part of me thought, He killed dad.

Valka's reminder brought me back; it wasn't Toothless's fault. "Good dragons, in the hands of bad people, do bad things."

No dragons are bad. Toothless didn't want to do that. He couldn't help it, couldn't fight it. I was supposed to help him snap out of it. I failed him, failed dad. Failed the tribe.

The reverie I had worked myself into was broken by the familiar flapping of wings. Dragons' wings. Drago had succeeded; he was on his way to Berk.

Oh Gods, Berk. The islanders had no idea of what was coming. And - Toothless!

Drago was riding Toothless, now back under the alpha's control. I stood, prepared to run after them and jump onto one of the dragons' backs if I had to, but Valka's gentle touch held me back.

I'd lost my father... and my best friend.

I'll keep updating these as I think of them. Sorry for potentially rubbish quality, but dragons, guys, dragons.