The long neck strained – lips pulled back from cone shaped teeth. Falling, diving; both at once as wind tore past the streamlined body. A small shape tumbling just ahead – just out of reach. The ground rushed upward in a heaving world of rock and smoke and immolating flames.
They would die. But not alone.
Toothless surged towards his fragile human – that hopelessly flightless creature. And then there was no time left.
Teeth snapped around the boy's leg, blood spattering and bones crushing under the pressure. With a violent jerk of his head, Toothless flipped the limp body into his grip – wrapping his limbs and wings around the boy as they crashed to earth.
*(oo)*
3 Years Later
Wind tore past his ears – hair plastered back from his forehead as he streaked towards the earth – arms wide on either side of his body. Yeah, a miscalculation would mean certain death, but...
"WOOOOOOOOOOOO YEAH!"
Hiccup screamed delight as his body made a tight spin – rotating to face the dragon plummeting alongside him. Toothless grinned... very toothily. Wings giving a few pumps to keep pace with his rider, the black reptile angled just a bit – allowing them to twist around one another for a few seconds.
And then they were out of time. Spreading his arms and legs out and shifting his belly towards the rushing ground, Hiccup slowed himself just enough for Toothless to slide beneath him. Snapping his prosthetic into place and grabbing on tight, the two of them streaked across the hard packed dirt – barely a foot above the solid surface – and swooped back up into the sky as Hiccup's whoops echoed off the sea stacks.
His teeth chatting in the wind whipped cold, eyes streaming from the breakneck speed, Hiccup still grinned as the two of them angled towards Berk just as the sun began to settle towards the waiting seas. Chopping waves blushed pink and gold as the sun halved itself beyond the horizon.
Fyr Bal was only a few weeks away. For the last few years, the dragons had been welcomed into the ceremony – with Toothless lighting the ceremonial pyre. And everyone delighted in the massive feast – mounds of fresh fish set aside just for their leathery companions along with deliciously prepared tidbits to be enjoyed by human and dragon alike.
Squinting as the sinking light reflected gold off the wavelets, the young man tipped his head back – back until he could flop on the saddle; trusting Toothless to eventually carry them home. The stars were already brightening above with the rapidly darkening heavens. Dain, Dvalin, Dunyr, and Durathror lifted their massive antlers in honor of the heavy moon. Nearby, the Eagle rested on his perch; awaiting Ratatosk and his tales of mischief. Many more came to life as the glow of day finally faded to just a slip of pale violet. These stars were like home to him; all those hours staring above. Yes, sometimes in search of a certain Night Fury. But... but more nights... just watching the stories play above him. For an awkward and slight child, those stars had been a welcoming place. Easy to imagine himself up there – walking among the gods. All along thinking the bold killing of a savage beast would earn him the favor he yearned for. Never imagining that the sparing of that creature would win him that acclaim. He smiled up at Nidhogg – the "poison biter". The great serpent had always been thought of as a cursed thing by his people. But, now... he considered it a protector. Who more worthy of that benevolence than the people of Berk? They, who cast aside three hundred years of tradition and, instead, embraced the very creatures they had waged war against?
Hiccup shivered and clawed himself back upright. Below him he felt a rumble from Toothless – a mumbled rolling grumble ending in a snort.
"Alright, bud. Let's head back. I think Gobber has a basket of salmon for your dinner."
Chortling happily, the dragon shifted into a tight dive as he aimed them towards the fires that lit up their island. Holding on tight, Hiccup felt his own belly make a hungry gurgle. With any luck, Toothless would be willing to share some of that salmon. Just so long as he didn't hork it up first. Uuugh.
*(oo)*
Toothless licked bits of fish from between his teeth while the two of them rested on the rooftop after dinner. Streaks of green and red seared through the stars above. Some said it was Ullr displaying his glory. Others, like Astrid, believed it to be the glint of Valkyrie armor as they soared through the heavens. Still others; warriors such as Spitelout, Gobber, and even his own father, insisted it was the Bifröst and that Thor himself was on his way to one of the nine realms. Hiccup, though, had always suspected it was something else that triggered those sinuous bands of color. Something that could be explained beyond magic and legends. Oh, sure, absolutely he believed in Odin and Valhalla – Thor and Loki were just as real as the toes on his fee... well, foot. But, not very long ago, people had thought that dragons were man eating demons with a vendetta against humans. But that had turned out not to be the case at all. Just because someone had a belief about something didn't mean they had the right answers 'why'. Sometimes it was about looking at things with a different lens to see the real truth.
Wet snuffs tickled his ear and Hiccup twisted with a sharp laugh as Toothless blew a warm breath against his temple. He rubbed the soft skin behind a tall ear flap and sighed. He'd only been back home on Berk for a day and already he was twitching to head back to the Edge. But he'd promised everyone an extended vacation in light of the upcoming festival and, the truth was, he needed some down time himself. His stump had been aching badly now for several weeks. While not one to show pain if he could help it, Astrid and Fishlegs had both given him concerned stares on the occasions when he hadn't been able to avoid a slight limp. If he pushed it too far, even Snotlout and the twins; the least observant trio in the group, were bound to pick up on his discomfort.
An annoying tickle started up again under the straps of leather around his calf. His fingers dug along the edge of his prothesis but the itch was too deep. Rubbing his head, he figured he may as well call it a night. Toothless yawned with that thought – gusting the air with a waft of fishy breath. Nose wrinkled, Hiccup scratched the dragon beneath his chin before giving him a hearty slap to his backside as he stood – wobbling a bit on the angled roof. "Come on. Let's go before we fall off and I have to explain to Gothi why I broke my other leg."
A few flaps of the dragon's wing and they were able to climb through the window into Hiccup's old bedroom. Exhausted enough that he considered just flopping on the bed, Hiccup took the time to strip his leathers, piece by piece, until he was down to his green undertunic and thin wool breeches. With his leather armor folded on his trunk, he finally dropped down to the edge of his bed and began undoing the straps holding his prosthetic in place. He bit his cheek and groaned as the cup of his fake limb fell away from the tender stump. No blisters or bleeding but the thickened flesh was red and throbbing with exposure to the air.
Tomorrow he'd visit the village elder and get a poultice for his leg. For the moment, though, he chose to leave it be. Besides, he was too tired to do anything else beyond dragging a blanket over his drooping form. Toothless was already curled on his stone – the familiar smell of fire heated rock filling the small room. Eyelids clamping down on dry eyes, Hiccup rubbed at the light sting and pushed himself up towards his pillow with one foot. Well used to his thin mattress, he still shifted his shoulders against the hard surface – missing his fur covered bed back on the island shared with the other dragon riders. Even so, it was only a few minutes before his yawns turned to deep breaths – the last of his energy expended in carrying him off to sleep.
*(oo)*
"Morning!"
Hiccup stifled a yelp at Astrid's greeting; complete with a sock to his bicep. Even when she wasn't sneaking, she could still catch him unaware while he was busy rubbing the dew from his eyes.
Massaging his arm, he smiled at the young woman – admitting to himself that, as far as Astrid was concerned, a few bruises were worth it. Gods, he was an idiot.
"Hey, Astrid. How-how did you, ah... sleep?" How was it he could talk to her like a normal human at the Dragon's Edge yet, barely a full day in Berk and he was fourteen again and stumbling over his own tongue?
Astrid, far more collected than he could ever hope to be on his best day, flicked bangs from her eyes before rolling them. "Mom insisted on a proper Viking breakfast before she'd even let me leave the house this morning. Apparently she's under the impression we just eat bark and flavored dirt at the base." She clapped a hand over her mouth with a sudden burp – her face flushing.
Hiccup laughed even though it earned him another arm punch. But Astrid was laughing too so that was fine by him.
"Hey, Hiccup!" Overhead, Ruff and Tuff soared past on their zippleback; Tuff hanging upside-down from one head while...
"Is his chicken steering Belch?" The hen was balanced in the dragon's left head – short wings spreading out every few seconds as the massive reptile shifted beneath it. "Oh gods..."
Cackling twins continued on their weaving path – their disappearance beyond the next row of houses soon, and inevitably, followed by a shuddering crash and furious shouting. Tuff's voice carried over the chaos. "That wasn't my fault!" Several seconds later, a large fire cloud exploded; inciting screaming and the rush of villagers with ready water buckets (a necessary component of living with dragons). Less distinct was Tuffnut's addendum, "okay, that was."
Clutching his hands in the hair at the back of his head, eyes wide, Hiccup puffed his cheeks with air before huffing it out in a long blow. "Well that could have been worse..." He winced even as he said it but, thank Odin, nothing followed that little chaos-inviting statement.
"You know, I wouldn't be tempting Loki if I were you." Astrid nudged against his shoulder – less damaging than her usual forms of friendly affection.
Hiccup let his hands drag down his face before dropping them to his sides. He eyes flicked to the left – noting her wind flushed cheeks and too long bangs that continued to blow in front of her eyes no matter how often she pushed them from her face. Aaand he was doing it again, Heimdallr's gold teeth! He needed to focus! Just because they were taking it easy for a few weeks didn't mean he could start getting lazy. Not with Viggo still out there terrorizing dragons.
A thundering approach garbled and snorted its way between the two of them – knocking Astrid aside and nearly flattening Hiccup in the dirt as Toothless swiped a wide tongue up one side of his face – lifting his hair in crazy spikes.
"Gahhph-thpth! Bud! Ackpth!" He spit and choked – blocking his face with his hands and muffling his complaints. "You got your tongue in my mouth! Gross!"
Astrid's wild laughter wasn't helping but at least she pulled him back to his feet once Toothless stopped mauling him. Sticky saliva shone on his leather and streaked his face. Astrid shook foamy goo from her fingers and wrinkled her lips.
"Eww..."
Useless swipes only spread the mess around. Giving up, Hiccup glared at his dragon, only to get a chortle of dragon laughter right back. Rubbing tacky fingers on the bit of clothing that had somehow been spared, he lifted a half smile towards Astrid as she scratched Toothless under his chin. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, her nose wrinkled in a smirk.
Okay so maybe a few days of relaxing weren't such a terrible thing. Eyebrow lifting, Hiccup took a long step towards the girl – swinging his arms out to the side. "So, uh, Astrid. What – uh – what do you think about may-maybe..."
"HICCUP!" A flock of terrible terrors scattered as Stoick stomped down the hillside from the mead hall – several scorched villagers gathered a little further back with less than delighted expressions.
Stepping away from the source of the chief's ire, Astrid tipped her head in something like apology. "I should... let you take this..." She murmured before escaping from the danger zone.
Hiccup groaned. "Traitor!" Watching her go so far as to whistle up Stormfly and mount the nadder, he, nonetheless, appreciated the grace she showed in gliding onto the saddle before they both soared off over Berk.
Oh, this was bad. "I...'m stupid..." he muttered; slapping his face into his hand.
Then the bright sunlight was shadowed by the looming bulk of his father. Stoick raised an eyebrow at his son – arms crossed.
"Care to tell me why two of your riders set Gunnar's yak barn ablaze?"
Toothless burbled at the stern tone before dropping on his haunches to scratch an ear fin.
One hand rubbing his neck while his opposite shoulder lifted in a jerky shrug, Hiccup took slow steps towards his dragon.
"You know those twins! Haha! I-I... should... probably..."
"Hiccup..." Stoick's crossed arms tightened as he sighed at his son. "Son, if you're going to escape on your dragon, you may see fit to saddle him first."
Attention flicked towards Toothless. Crouching down on his haunches, the fury crooned and waved his tail in the air – showing off the complete lack of a harness.
Hands slapping against his sides, Hiccup rolled his tongue along the back of his teeth. "Well this isn't completely awkward..."
A large hand took up most of his shoulder at his father turned him back towards the conversation. "If it isn't too much trouble, son, I'd like it if you had a word with the twins. Before I do." The hand, then, whacked him in a teeth rattling thump. "And afterward, come up to the house for the midday meal."
Stepping back from his son, Stoick was a short length away when he turned. "Oh, and feel free to invite Astrid as well; if you like." He smiled, and Hiccup could swear the man even chuckled before resuming his journey towards the still smoking barn.
Nevermind how close that was to Hiccup's earlier awkward stumbling almost request, this was just embarrassing. Hands rubbing over his hot face, he spread his fingers to peer at his dragon. Toothless was chewing an itch at the base of one wing; the thin appendage stretched high like a sail.
Well they couldn't just sit around waiting for the next humiliation to fall on them. With his track record, he had about five minutes, tops. He nudged Toothless as he headed back towards the house. "Come on, Munchie. Let's go get your saddle on, alright, bud?"
*(oo)*
Hiccup filled two tankards with frothy golden ale; clunking one down in front of his father before settling into a chair with a loose drop. Stoick took a deep swallow from his mug – breathing out and wiping foam from his mustache before chuckling.
"Been more then a month since I haven't needed to pour my own beer."
"That your way of saying you missed me?" Kicking back a chair with one foot, Hiccup dropped down before taking a long swallow. Beer was something they just didn't have back at the Edge – primarily dependent on water and, very rarely, a cask of mead now and again.
"Oh, I don't know that I'd go to extremes." Smiling at his son, Stoick reached for the platter of chicken, set out for lunch, and tore the bird in half – dropping the other half on Hiccup's plate.
Silent chewing took over for the next several minutes.
"I noticed Astrid wasn't with you."
Hiccup sucked his last bite halfway down his windpipe – a flurry of wild hacking not one bit helped when his father leaned across the table to pound the middle of his back with a thick fist.
The bright light of Valhalla finally faded from the back of his eyes. Hiccup bent in half over his knees and dug his fingernails into the wood of the table. "Are-" Wispy words barely strained through his teeth and he hacked for another lifetime, eyes streaming water, before he could properly glare at his father.
"Are you, seriously, trying to kill me!? What, am I suddenly a threat to your chiefdom so you decided to do in the competition? That- that is very underhanded, I'll have you know! Not that I've vying for the position; just so we're clear."
"There's time for that sort of talk later." Stoick thundered as he dropped back to his side of the table – the floor actually shaking from his shifting frame. "Now, first things first," he leaned forward; eyes reflecting back a disturbing gleam Hiccup recognized from the old man's dragon killing days, "tell me about your young lady."
Do what now? "Ah – ah... oh-ah... you... what? What-what is there to tell? I mean, dad, there's... not anything... you know what, nevermind. I, ahhh-I thiiink I hear the twins destroying someth- Toothless!" The bright yorp just behind his left ear jerked a yelp from his chest and he spun from his chair; leaping into the saddle before they'd even made it back outside.
"Wait – Hiccup!"
"Sorry dad, gotta go!" ...to find a nice boulder to drop on my face... A few years unconscious sounded alright to him, currently.
Okay, so maybe it had been a little... premature... coming back to Berk so early. They could have flown back just for the festival – spent the night – and headed back immediately the next morning. Things were just... different in Berk. It wasn't the biggest village in the Archipelago but, even so, there were roughly three hundred beefy vikings living on that frozen rock compared to the six, slightly less beefy youths (Snotlout and Fishlegs notwithstanding) living it up at Dragon's Edge. If dad was breaking out his matchmaker's toolkit it was only a matter of ten or twenty minutes before the rest of Berk was swapping embarrassing details. Secrets were better currency than gold and had a high exchange rate among a crowd who found their best entertainment in public humiliation. They really needed to come up with a better form of excitement. Now that dragon killing was off the table, the villagers were itching for something to pass the time and, personally, Hiccup wasn't in the mood to be on everyone's tongue- gods that sounded depraved!
An updraft lifted Toothless towards the peak overlooking Berk. Sheep grazed in the small mountainous glens; barely twitching as the dark reptile soared past. After centuries of predation, the animal herds had grown a thick skin around their scaly neighbors. Even when sheep had been snatched right from the flock, the remaining animals tended to shrug it off and go back to grazing. Of course, that was a good thing, in the long run. Berk's sheep were as tough, gnarly, and as unimpressed as the people that cared for them.
Two more weeks of this. What in the name of Thor had he been thinking? Sure, there was plenty of preparation to get ready for the festival. Trees to be cut for the bonfire, fish and other ocean delicacies to be caught for the feasting, wild mushrooms and various herbs to be gathered, and decorations to be made. And that was just some of the work involved. There would also be visits from some of the nearby tribes who would begin trickling into Berk towards the end of the week. It was a great opportunity to reacquaint with friends. Of course, the other point was for unwed young people to find possible wives or husbands. Unlike many or even most of the other tribes, Berk stood out as more than a little weird in its marriage practices. Save for rare occasions, most of the Hooligan tribe tended to marry out of genuine love. Meanwhile, the rest of the archipelago thought this a backward and unViking-like approach given that arranged marriages were the way of the world. Not that this stopped the other tribes from trying to make matches. After all, Berkian stock was especially robust... usually... which was another reason that particular part of the tradition made this festival more than a lot uncomfortable.
Every year, at least fifteen to twenty matches were made with families wanting to gain status; regardless of what their children thought about it. Though Stoick had never thought favorably about the practice, that hadn't spared his son from calculating parents looking to cash in on the status to be had by matching their daughter with the chief's heir. And every year it was worse. Aside from feeling like a yak being trotted out to check for decent teeth and a good fat layer, there was also the memory of past Fyr Bals where the poking and pinching had been laced with a crude amusement. Well... at least until last year. At seventeen, Hiccup had finally started to gain some height – even surpassing Snotlout. While still slender, his arms and legs now had noticeable muscle definition. When ships had begun arriving with Meatheads and Bog Burglars, he'd expected the poking, prodding, and embarrassing questions regarding his viking potency. Oh, but it had been so much more embarrassing. Because exactly the same thing had happened. Only, this time, it had been with genuine interest in the answer to the really, really, personal questions.
Hiccup shuddered and hung out his tongue in disgust. The Bog Burglar chieftain, Big Boobied Bertha had been the worst; snatching him by the shoulders and trying to initiate a drinking contest, "you're no whelp of Stoick's if ye canna' hold yer ale!" This followed by observations that a man who can hold his liqueur is a man who can breed strong daughters. Ugh.
He could feel the tingle of pink creeping across the back of his neck. Maybe dad wouldn't miss him if he just, sorta, vanished for the next few weeks...
Action followed thinking as he turned Toothless towards the open water. Being that Midsummer's Eve had only recently passed, the days were longer and, for an incredibly brief period, warmer. Though, "warmer" for Berk meant you could forego one layer of wool underwear.
"Just for a few hours, bud." To which Toothless chortled and scooped air through his wings – clawing them towards the first cloud layer. The small dragon had amazing endurance. Even with a rider, Toothless had flown for as long as twelve hours. However, even after a full day, Toothless had had energy to burn; leaving Hiccup to believe that the dragon could easily fly for days without landing – taking advantage of thermals to soar and conserve energy – sometimes not flapping his wings for many hours at a time.
'Just a few hours' may have been the plan but with every league away from Berk, his explorer's heart beat faster. To see beyond the horizon... Before, the only means for that exploration would have been by ship. However, unless one wanted to go on raids (less of a thing now that dragons were no longer the enemy) or become a merchant, there wasn't a lot of call for exploring other lands. He could easily call up memories of Stoick in full father lecture; "Son, yur a Viking! And Vikings don't need to explore beyond their own villages! Someday yu'll be Chief! There'll be naught time for such foolishness'! The rest o' the world can tyke care o' itself. You, however, need to tyke care o' Berk!"
Toothless shook his head wildly at the imitation – head fins slapping like thick whips. Picking up speed, he rose away from the waves; flapping hard.
"Woah! Okay, okay! No more Stoick impressions!"
Warm as his underclothes were, Hiccup still shivered as they angled through a thicker cloud layer. Blowing on his hands, he used his chilled fingers to brush condensation from his cheeks. Toothless chirped and turned his head to lift an ear flap towards his rider.
"I'm fine," Hiccup rubbed the dragon between his shoulder blades, "Let's drop down a little, though. I think there's an island chain somewhere around here. Might be fun to check out."
Snorting, Toothless tipped his wings left and carried them closer to the ocean.
Swooping close enough to skim the salt spray, he chuffed dragon laughter as Hiccup sputtered from the backsplash from a larger wave. "Toothless, not that low!" He was still rubbing at the salt in his eyes when he felt Toothless lift them higher again, and then start to accelerate. "You see something, bud?"
Dropping his hands, Hiccup squinted through the glare of the lowering sun. Several kilometers off, he could just make out a cluster of ships. Too far away to accurately pick out numbers so he urged Toothless closer to the group. Couldn't be Bog Burglars – not this far out. Probably Mogadon and the rest of the Meathead tribe. "How about we go greet our neighbors?"
Toothless bobbed his head a few times as they made for the ships. Hiccup had always gotten along well with Thuggory, the chief's son. Besides, he could use a break from the saddle. His left leg was starting to throb again and he really needed to rest his stump. As it was, he'd already gone against Gothi's admonition to take things slow for the next few days.
It was many minutes before they were finally close enough to count ships. "Looks like seven... maybe eight? Huh... usually Mogadon brings at least fifteen." Maybe there was a sickness over winter? It wasn't unheard of. Even in Berk's past, there had been an outbreak of eel pox so severe that they'd lost nearly a third of the tribe. Though that had happened over a century ago. Still, it twisted something in Hiccup's stomach at the thought of their neighbors suffering such a fate. Hard reflections from the water were nearly blinding and Hiccup shaded his watering eyes. He should have brought his amber glasses; though it hadn't occurred to him to use them outside of the forge. Something worth thinking about at any rate.
Leaning forward a little, Hiccup dropped Toothless back towards the waves so that the approaching ship's sails could block out most of the brightness.
With a violent jerk, Hiccup hauled Toothless into a tight arc – breaking away from the ships – heart hammering as a flurry of arrows skimmed so close he could feel the tickle of feathered fletching against his cheek.
"Dragon hunters!" Gods, and he'd nearly flown right into them! Not only that; with the sun at their backs, they'd have seen him well before he'd have been able to recognize them. Stupid!
Toothless weaved and rolled as bolos shot towards them – roaring as one wrapped itself around a back leg. "Come on, buddy, we have to get out of here, now!"
Though the bolo wasn't heavy, the swinging weights hanging below them hampered their flight – Toothless shaking his leg to try to free himself as they grasped towards the clouds. More arrows shot towards them as well as several nets and Hiccup leaned hard to the right – forcing Toothless into a barrel rolling plunge to avoid the attacks.
Hiccup grunted as an arrow shot between his left side and inner arm – slicing a groove just above the gauntlet and nearly striking Toothless in the head. The sting of pain shifted into the background as they rocked hard to the right – then left again – swooping through the spaces between projectiles.
A yell shattered over his teeth as something solid smashed against his left leg.
Toothless immediately began to plunge as all control was lost – their flight a nauseating blur of black and red. Hiccup swallowed and sobbed air – his leg refusing to work the pedal. He unlatched the straps keeping him in the saddle – digging his right hand into pommel as his body lifted up from his seat. Left leg slipping loose from the pedal, fighting the forces pushing him back, he strained towards the dented mechanism.
Only a few meters from the waves, he caught hold of it with two fingers, and pulled!
There was a sharp, belly dropping, whoosh of regaining lost height. Hiccup's body slammed back to the saddle – his upper half in a precarious tilt half off the side where he white knuckled the damaged pedal.
"Go, bud!"
Toothless dodged a few more arrows and flattened out – wings extending as he rapidly picked up speed.
The shouts and cursing started to fade.
Breath stuttered through Hiccup's chest. He was hurting, badly, and dreaded what level of damage had been done. But that had to wait. They couldn't go far in this condition. His hands were already cramping and, with nothing to anchor him and only one working leg, he could barely keep himself in the saddle.
"Toothless, you need to find us somewhere to set down. You can do this."
The warble back was followed by a small shift in direction. Hiccup closed his eyes and clung with as much strength as he could manage – focused only on keeping the tail fin open.
They just had to get to safety. He trusted Toothless to take care of that part. Unlike some spontaneously driven humans, the little black dragon could usually stay on his assigned tasks. Hiccup rubbed his forehead against warm leather. He bit into his lip as the strain on his arms spiked knives through his shoulders. It did little, though, to distract from the grinding agony in his leg.
He just had to hold on.
Just a little longer...