Every one dies alone, they say.
People rush around Berk, vikings and dragons alike,
Some with the shining visage of tears, forming at the corners of their eyes.
Whispering and murmurs run through the crowds.
Somewhere, a baby's piercing cry, cuts through the silence.
Be it king on a raging battlefield.
The crowd gathers outside of the Chiefs house,
Where inside, two great heroes lay, close to death,
On the small wooden bed, that adorns the bare room.
Or peasant surrounded by loved ones.
Hiccup and Toothless, rider and dragon,
Both lay, dying of old age,
Surrounded by those that were truly their family.
Or perhaps, even a chief, surrounded by fellow vikings and friends.
'Well...' Hiccup's quiet voice pipes up weakly,
'I suppose this is it bud...'
Toothless croons softly next to his companion and best friend.
You can't take anyone with you when you die.
For their bond was so great, that,
Though Toothless could live for hundreds of years,
They aged together, as parters,
In both body and soul.
Never one without the other.
Everyone dies alone, they say.
With their dying breaths,
Hiccup has time to say one last thing,
'And now... For the greatest adventure of them all...'
Hiccup's head lays back on the feather pillow,
Toothless gathers the last of his strength,
And curls into a protective ball around Hiccup.
Neither to ever move again.
But perhaps... just this once.
The sorrowful cries travel from the house the the rest of the vikings,
The cries are multiplied as they spread throughout the whole village,
The dragons join in as the ones who united them pass away.
The northern lights shimmer into existence,
As the people mourn the loss of the two heroes.
Through the sounds of mourning,
A fierce roar, followed by a joyous shout
Are heard, as the spirits of the two brothers fly free,
Together for eternity.
We can make an exception.
