The first sound Hiccup usually wakes up to is the sound of Toothless stomping on the roof.
Today was a little different. Hiccup woke up to Toothless' feet… Stomping on the ceiling.
"Wha- how?" Hiccup gapes. Sure, Toothless could fly, but this was… he wasn't even moving his wings, and he was floating! UPSIDE-DOWN!
Toothless yowls, pushing off the roof to face his rider. His face absolutely screams panicked bewilderment, and bats at Hiccup's bed sheet.
Next surprise: the bed sheet does the same thing as Toothless. It slowly floats into the air, rippling like it was underwater. Hiccup shrieks as he realizes he was doing the same thing. His body rises into the air, and his desperate flailing only seems to cause him to somersault in place.
"Okay, very weird…" Hiccup mutters, grabbing his bedpost to stop the spinning, though that object also begins lifting slowly into the air. "Just… breathe. Calm down. This… this is like swimming. Ju-u-u-ust like swimming…"
Toothless' tail nudges him, and the dragon whines. He also seemed to have realized staying still was the best option at the moment, as his claws were digging into the wood above, sticking there like a spider. The dragon then moves his tail to wrap around Hiccup's prosthetic, but the nudge alone caused it to drift towards its owner.
Hiccup catches the metal object with ease as it was simply hovering towards him, and then quickly puts it on. "Thanks bud. Now, to get downstairs…"
Taking a deep breath, he grabs a floorboard and pulls himself towards the door. But he seems to miscalculate his strength as he dives face-first into the wood panel.
"Oww…" he moans, rubbing his nose. Toothless gives a draconic chuckle, and carefully begins maneuvering on the walls to the floor.
Suddenly…
"AHHHH!"
"WAAAAAH?"
"HOLY THOR!"
"ODIN'S BEARD, WHAT IS HAPPENING?"
"HEEEEEELP!"
From outside his window, several screams of surprise, terror, and confusion ring through the air like bells. Looks like Hiccup wasn't the only one having an anti-gravity problem this morning.
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Marcell could hear the panic starting. It always started.
He wished it wouldn't, but he couldn't help it. The curse would not obey him while he was injured.
That's why he looked for the healer of this village, with a hand over his open stomach in an attempt to keep in his organs, and with loose red blood droplets floating after him. The morning sun makes them glint like demonic fireflies, and the hand holding his staff was shaking.
Hey, Marcell was never really a boy whose life revolved being in tiptop shape.
And with how his curse kept him from exercising for the past few years, in any way, shape or form… yeah, he needed a doctor.
He needed a doctor right now.
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A/N hehe… I was just thinking randomly about how people sometimes say "flying is freedom" and I just thought, "Hm, I wonder how they would like landing on the moon…" so… voila!
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