6/5/10
A Place To Call Home
Summary: Something is wrong with Toothless and Hiccup is going to do whatever it takes to make it right.
Disclaimer: All rights to "How To Train Your Dragon" belong to DreamWorks and Cressida Cowell; I own nothing except an awesome Toothless plushie.
Chapter 1
Hiccup woke up slowly. He blinked and then rubbed his eyes and then blinked again.
Something was wrong.
He lifted himself up on one elbow and surveyed the small, dark room, corner to corner. Trunk (opened, furs falling out), chair (with the "breast" hat dangling off the back), false leg (leaning against the wall), axe (slightly dusty from disuse). He snapped up straight as he realized that for the first time in five years he'd woken naturally without a snorting dragon prodding him, and his heart thudded in his chest anxiously.
Throwing off the bedcovers he leapt out of bed and hopped expertly on his right leg as he snatched his clothes from the trunk followed by the springy mechanical contraption, which he forced himself to carefully attach to the stump of his left leg. Experience had taught him mercilessly not to let that chore be done haphazardly. There was nothing worse than trotting along and finding yourself face-first in the mud in front of half the village because you didn't secure your leg.
Standing firmly on two legs and clothes thrown on he rushed to the top of the stairs. "Toothless?" he called out. Never had a morning gone by since returning from the dragons' nest had Toothless failed to awaken Hiccup to remind him about breakfast or beg for an early-morning flight, yet here he was dawn long broken and no dragon.
Holding on to the wall for stability, the tall, gangly young man half shuffled half hopped down the carved-out log, ducking his head without thought to avoid the spot where the lower level ceiling and the stairs intersected. A fire was blazing in the hearth and the silhouette of Stoick the Vast pushed at the flaming logs beneath a steaming cauldron.
"Dad!" Hiccup called out. "Have you seen - ?" Before he'd even finished the larger Viking had removed the poker and pointed it to his right. Turning his head, Hiccup spotted his missing dragon, who was curled up in front of the door. As Hiccup looked at him, Toothless drew in a large breath and let it out as a groaning sigh. "Toothless!" Hiccup cried and rushed over, dropping to his knees at his friend's side. His hands touched the ebony dragon all over, flying from his head to his neck to his back, caressing the hardened scales as if they were the softest fur. "Are you hurt? Sick? What's the matter, bud?" His stomach lurched unpleasantly at the quiet, still dragon, and his swallowed his fears audibly.
" He's not hurt. Or sick," Stoick rumbled from behind.
"But?" Hiccup didn't know quite what to say. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"
The ginger-haired Viking shrugged, moving the mountain of furs that covered his form. He'd scooped the morning's gruel into a bowl and settled down at the table to eat. Using his spoon for emphasis he said, "The sum of my dragon knowledge involves the most efficient way to remove the head without getting singed."
"Dad!" Hiccup hissed, but if Toothless understood the comment he made no effort to react. The large amber eyes were closed and his ears hung limply to their sides instead of being up and alert. Hiccup appreciated far more than words could express his father's willingness to allow dragons and Vikings to live peacefully together in Berk; that had to take a huge amount of humility. But letting a dragon live under his own roof? Especially a rambunctious one like Toothless? Life hadn't been easy, but they'd settled into an accord of their own. Yet his father had ingrained prejudice against dragons that was near impossible to let go.
Clearing his throat, Stoic continued. "About a year before your mother and I were married, she came down with a powerful sickness. The elder declared she be isolated in her house to keep it away from the village. Only her mother, grandmother, and the elder were allowed to see her." Hiccup looked at his father strangely. Stoick hadn't spoken of his late wife in…well it just wasn't a common occurrence. The older Viking continued, "Every day I sat outside her door hoping that would be the day they'd let me see her. Every day, for six weeks," he gestured towards Toothless with his spoon, "that's exactly how I looked. And felt." Stoick shifted in his seat, and then motioned for Hiccup to come closer.
Hesitant to leave his friend, Hiccup slowly stood and walked over to his father, who said in a hushed voice, "Boy, you know that dragon is not like the rest of them."
"What do you mean?"
"The others? They're all here because they choose to be." Hiccup started to protest that Toothless wanted to be here, but he was summarily shushed. "He…Toothless adores you, and would never willingly leave you." He pursed his lips, no doubt remembering trying to get both the unconscious boy and the injured dragon back to Berk without parting them. When he continued his voice was low and gentle. "But the others, Hiccup, they come and go as they please. They can go off and do whatever it is that dragons need to do. Your dragon depends upon you for everything. I know, and he knows, that you take that responsibility very seriously, but that's going to take a toll on anyone, beast or man."
Hiccup swallowed uncomfortably as acrid bile crept up his throat. He thought he'd long ago resolved his thirteen-year-old self's guilt over injuring the Night Fury in a reckless attempt to be a "true" Viking. But maybe like missing tail fins, that wound could never be healed. "What can I do?"
Stoick shrugged. "Not a clue. This bond you've made, it's unique, Hiccup, which means you need to figure out what you're doing as you go along. Now, get some breakfast. I'll see some meat on those bones yet!" he said as he gave his son a hearty slap on the arm.
Hiccup had shoveled the warm gruel into his mouth without tasting it, his eyes never leaving the melancholy dragon by the door. Tossing the bowl into a pile of dirty dishes that he should have already cleaned, he called a quick farewell over his shoulder, grabbed his pack along with the saddle and his riding harness, and opened the door. Toothless just lay there looking at him at first, but with a little encouragement, the dragon heaved himself onto his feet and followed Hiccup out at a sedate pace. There was already a basket of fish waiting for them outside, thanks to the early-rising fishermen who'd taken it upon themselves to keep the village dragons happy: it had became apparent quickly that dragons were excellent at keeping any rivals clear of their favorite fishing spots. Hiccup dropped his gear to lug the basket over to Toothless.
"Here, buddy, how about some nice cod to brighten your spirits?" he asked hopefully, holding out the freshly caught fish.
Toothless, sniffed at it noncommittally, then gently took it into his mouth, giving it a cursory bite before swallowing, all the while regarding Hiccup with inscrutable amber eyes. The entire experience lacked the normal gusto that the dragon usually had for eating. Hiccup sighed and upended the basket so Toothless could munch on the rest of his breakfast unhindered. While Toothless ate Hiccup strapped on the saddle and his own harness, finishing off by swinging his pack onto his back. Inside he'd stowed some standard rations - dried beef and bread, a canteen of water - and other essential survival supplies like flint and tinder, a fishing line, and extra skins. Stoick had insisted on all the kids carrying these packs when they started flying if they went farther than Berk proper in case some emergency came up. Finally Hiccup checked the bright red tailfin to make sure it was secured properly. "Does this feel ok, Toothless?" he asked, and the tail thumped an affirmative on the ground.
Making his way around to the front, Hiccup patted the dragon's head tenderly as he finished off the fish. "I know something's wrong, and we're going to fix it." Toothless turned his head towards the young man, nudging Hiccup's neck and blowing puffs of fishy-smelling air into his ear. Hiccup had long ago figured out this was a gesture of affection, and he reciprocated by throwing his arms around the dragon's neck in return. "We're going to go wherever you want. Whatever it is you need to do, we'll go do it. No matter how long it takes." Toothless looked at him intently, as if asking if he were sure, ears already starting to straighten up. "You bet, buddy. You lead the way. We're a team. Always." With a snort of approval, Toothless unfurled his wings and gave them a snap to announce his readiness. With a smile, Hiccup jumped on, secured his foot in the steering mechanism, and latched the harness to the saddle.
He took a moment to observe the village below. The sun was full in the east, the day officially begun. Dragons were already flying around, some with riders, some without. The younger generation without fail had adopted dragons as suitable transportation, but the older Vikings were far more reluctant to hit the skies; they had as a whole put aside the old antipathy and even adapted to the dragons' usefulness in performing more difficult tasks – some even as companions – but you'd be hard-pressed to find a Viking over twenty riding one. Hiccup's eyes fell on Astrid's house. He could see her Nadder and a couple of Gronckles fighting over their fish basket, but no sign of Astrid or her family. Hiccup sighed; he really should tell her – or even his father – what he was planning, but honestly he had no idea what it was they were doing, or even how to explain it. Beneath him, Toothless snorted restlessly and pawed at the ground. "Ok, bud, time to fly!"
Toothless ascended effortlessly, and Hiccup could feel a ripple of excitement along the dragon's flank at the new adventure. The pair took a quick low-flying pass over the village, earning some enthusiastic waves. Somewhere, an anxious voice called out, "Night Fury!" and then Toothless turned his head towards the southwest. Hiccup adjusted the fin accordingly, and soon they were soaring high over the clouds, the sun warming their backs.