Disclaimer: DreamWorks Animation and Cressida Cowell own How to Train Your Dragon.

Disclaimer 2: Rift Raft owns I Hear Him Scream and its sequel Echoed Songs.

Spoiler Notice: This fic builds upon many existing plot points from the above works. It also re-imagines Riders of Berk plot points, Defenders of Berk plot points, and plot points from the ongoing Race to the Edge series on Netflix. If you don't mind proceeding now that you know this, go right ahead. If you do mind, feel free to stop reading right here and now.

Hello and welcome to Now Nothing But Laughter, a sequel to I Hear Him Scream, which is a fanfiction of How to Train Your Dragon. Anything that is written here is not canon to the IHHS universe.

This is an ongoing fic, one that is not yet near completion. It doesn't follow canon exactly, and even less so now that a canonical sequel is in the works. In other words, NNBL is a parallel universe to both IHHS and HTTYD 2, like IHHS is a parallel universe to HTTYD 1.

And now, we begin.

Hiccup smiled. Toothless did the same. The anxiety and fear and sorrow began to drift off them like a fog in a gentle breeze.

In the center of his forehead, where all magic had left him, now seemingly an empty shell, something began to spark, imperceptible and miniscule, like a lone ember at the bottom of an unlit bonfire.

It was enough.

Their link flickered to life.

"Hiccup!"

The unexpected call almost made me trip over my wooden peg leg. Glancing over my shoulder, I gave Dad the best glare I could muster before sighing and shaking my head. "Don't tell me another Viking forgot that we're not at war anymore." I turned around and leaned on the wall to keep from falling off the large steps leading to my room, gauging his reaction as I did. "You know I can't be held responsible for what my nest-mates do if someone pulls a weapon on them."

Dad ignored my misdirection and asked what he had probably planned to ask in the first place. "What are you doing, coming in so late? I thought I told Gobber to send you home at sundown."

I broke our stare, hoping to hide my embarrassment at being so harsh on him. He has been getting better, after all.

I rubbed the back of my neck as I tried to think of a believable excuse. I certainly don't want him catching on to what I've actually been up to, at least not until I'm done with everything. If my dad knew I was using valuable village resources to make a tail for Toothless, especially when so many tribes have been requesting our aid, he'd probably remove me from my apprenticeship. Best to keep him in the dark until there's nothing he can do about it. "I, uh, just took the long way home, around the forest."

He wasn't buying it. "For two hours?"

"W-well, I got, uh… sidetracked." I stammered. "The breeze felt really nice, and since winter is still a ways off, I thought that maybe…"

Cutting me off with a heavy sigh, Dad adopted the 'concerned father' look that he's given me more times in these last two months than I can remember. "Look, son, I know you're still adjusting, and I know that it's hard, but it's okay if you want to spend some time with your friend."

When he paused to gauge my reaction, I felt a small pang of guilt at keeping up the lie. Especially when I saw the pain on his face. I definitely wasn't expecting him to make that assumption. I thought we'd already been through this.

He almost seemed to be pleading when he began again. "You don't have to lie about this, Hiccup. I can understand why you don't want me to know, but I won't try to separate you two again. And I know I never should have, either."

I gasped as we made eye contact. He looked desperate. It was like he was terrified of what I would say to him.

I slowly made my way down the stairs, not sure how to respond to Dad's sudden… weakness? No. Stoick the Vast isn't weak, or vulnerable. At least, that's what the Vikings of Berk would always say. Even the other tribes, even Toothless, would attest to that, albeit grudgingly. But all I could see standing in front of the fire pit was a broken man.

"Son?"

Snapping out of my thoughts, I gave him a smile that I wish didn't feel so fake. "It's alright, Dad. I know you want us to go back to the way we were, but I'm not ready for that. I think it'll just take some more time."

He gave a small grin as he made his voice higher and nasally in an (obviously failed) imitation of mine. He even pulled his lips up a bit to show teeth. "Two months?" he asked, mocking the very same response I gave him a month ago when he pulled his sword on one of my nest mates. And just like that the weakness was gone.

I was, to say the least, very surprised by his mood swing. I'd almost say I didn't recognize him; Dad never jokes around, and when he does, it always blows up in his face (one time literally, when he tried to respond to Gobber's sarcastic remarks during a raid. From what I've heard, a Hum-Wing – or 'Gronckle', as Gobber still calls them – that was flying overhead enjoyed his sense of humor as much as Gobber did).

"Hey, that was almost good!" I drawled, giving him my best 'unimpressed' look.

My lip must have been twitching, because he threw his head back in a mighty Viking laugh, one I haven't heard in over a year. "Good?! That was better than any joke you've made today!"

Great. He's found something new to make into a competition. And here I thought fighting and shouting were bad. Still, I couldn't help laughing along with him. Dad looked happier than I've ever seen him, and that was enough for a smile that felt so real, so genuine, that, for the first time in a year, I didn't feel cautious around him.

Maybe we can't go back to the way we were. Maybe we shouldn't. This is so much better.