I woke up . . . with something cold, wet, and very smelly, lying on my stomach. I then heard a deep sigh of satisfaction.

"Toothless . . ." I said in almost a warning tone as I turned my head on my pillow to see him trying to smile at me again.

He had brought me a fish to cheer me up.

"Look," I sighed, "I appreciate the thought, pal. I do. But I don't quite like fish the way you do, okay?"

Reluctantly hooking my fingers into one of the fish's slimy gills, I picked up the fish as I sat up in bed, and offered it back to him. Toothless just narrowed his eyes at me and began to growl.

I let the fish flop back down beside me as I sighed. "I like bread in the morning, okay?" I tried to politely emphasize, looking at him again. "Not fish."

To try and make myself clear, I decided to move the fish out of the way and heft myself out of bed. Then I hopped over to a table in my loft where I studied, and sometimes ate. Tearing off a piece of yesterday's bread that had been left there as Toothless watched me, puzzled, I then hopped back to bed, got in once more, and placed the bread on my stomach, while once again picking up the fish and offering it back to him.

"Bread . . . me . . . mornings," I said as plainly as I could, pointing to the bread and myself with one hand, " . . . fish . . . you . . . mornings," I continued, offering him the fish again. "Okay?" I added, then proceeding to eat the bread while smiling. "Mmmmm!" I said to drive my point home — I hoped.

Still trying to figure me out, Toothless reluctantly accepted the fish back from me. With his head lowered and giving me the strangest look, he wolfed it down. He then raised his head again and smacked his lips afterwards, while trying to smile, indicating that fish was clearly the best thing to dragons. It apparently always helped them feel better, so why wasn't I getting that?

The only thing I could think to do then was just to reach over, lay my hand flat on his nose, and look into his eyes. This gesture — the one that had really opened the door to our friendship — was becoming our way of getting past our differences and lack of understanding. It was becoming our way of asking, 'trust me'.

Toothless now briefly closed and reopened his large eyes as he looked at me, emitting a gentle, deep almost purr of what I hoped was understanding . . . or at least acceptance of my strange preferences.

Then, he left, ambling across the loft over to the table. I now smiled as I watched him pick up the rest of the round loaf of bread off the table with his teeth, and return to me with it in his mouth. I felt deeply moved as he now gently placed it in my lap as I continued sitting up in bed. He then sat down at my bedside, with an expectant look, glancing at both me and the bread . . . almost seeming to ask me if he'd got it right.

I could only nod with a real smile, as I broke off not one, but two more pieces of bread. This time, I offered him the first one. Toothless tilted his head as he now cautiously sniffed the bread. He seemed to grimace a little. But then I had grimaced some myself when he regurgitated that chunk of fish for me at the start of our friendship.

Very carefully, he took the piece of bread in his mouth and chewed it a little. He tilted his large black head again and looked upward, seeming to be deciding whether he liked it. Finally he swallowed it, looking at me once more with what seemed to be satisfaction.

"You like it, bud?" I asked, as I now ate my piece.

He kept looking at me while tilting his head side to side, like it was okay . . . not good, not bad, but okay. At least I now began to think I wouldn't be waking up to a fish on my belly in the morning anymore.

"Well," I sighed, rousing myself from bed again, "I'd better be getting over to the Blacksmith's shop. We have more dragon saddles to be making—"

Toothless suddenly almost seemed to be cutting me off as he looked up and away, as if he was beginning to sense something somewhere else.

"What is it, Toothless?" I asked as I began putting on my sheepskin vest, along with the one boot I now needed, before reaching for my leg rig.

He quickly looked at me, gesturing with his head down towards the front door, grunting. I suddenly knew my plans were now changed. We were flying this morning.

He then began gesturing with his head quickly towards his saddle rig, lying in the corner — looking at me urgently, giving me the idea that if I didn't hurry, I might miss something . . . something important. I quickly finished securing my own leg rig.

Not wasting time, we then both went for his saddle rig. I placed it on top of his neck and shoulders and began fastening its straps, as he placed his front legs through the large stirrup rings.

He gave out a gentle roar, a call, as he looked back at me gesturing intensely with his head towards the door again.

"I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying!" I replied as I fastened the final straps along his tail and quickly checked that everything on the rig was snug and secure. I then vaulted onto him with my hands. Even before my feet were secure in the stirrups, he was bounding with me out the door and straight into the air with a single large, well-timed beat of his wings. I had never seen Toothless in such a rush.

Together, we were off like a shot — out over the village housetops, and soon soaring out above the morning sea, past the bonfire towers and rocky sea stacks. There were times like this when I wished I knew where he was taking us, when I wished I could steer him — apply a bit to his mouth like a horse . . . something. But Toothless would have none of that, and he had told me so in the most strenuous and fearsome terms whenever I had tried to place either a metal bar, or even a leather strap, inside of his mouth. He let me know in no uncertain terms that our teamwork, our friendship, was built on trust. I had to trust where he would take me, just like he had to trust that I would keep him safely in the air.

The ocean was enveloped in a thick fog offshore, which Toothless boldly flew us right into. He turned his head quickly from side to side as we flew, completely blind in the heavy mist, as he strained to regain, to locate what he had sensed back at the house. I just lowered myself against the saddle, and gripped tightly with my whole body, bracing myself for anything he might do.

Sure enough, he suddenly banked sharply to the right, my iron foot adjusting his canvas tailfin by instinct. Now he looked to his left as he flew level. I began to hear noises as well, not too far away below us . . . and it wasn't just the sea.

Ships emerged from the fog below us and to our left. I quickly counted six, with maybe more still obscured in the fog. Their crews were mostly quiet, but there was some talking. These ships clearly weren't from Berk, our village.

"Better hide us, bud," I cautioned, not knowing whether these ships would be friendly, hostile, or even indifferent. "Black dragons tend to stand out in white fog," I added quietly to him.

Then I heard the two words, coming from below that we really didn't need to hear right then . . .

"NIGHT FURY!" one panicked man on one of the ships now called out.

"No, wait!" another voice forcefully called out . . . a woman's. "I've got it!"

This second voice sounded strangely familiar. But before I could think about who it might be, before Toothless could even bank away and get us out of there . . . a dagger went *thump!* right into the saddle, just beneath my left leg.

"What the . . . !" I said as Toothless turned us sharply into a nearby fog bank for cover. I reached down and removed the dagger, looking at it in amazement. Even for a dagger, it was very small — too fine for the average rough, tough Viking man to use. I flipped it around in one hand as Toothless leveled off inside the fog bank, once again shadowing the fleet of ships we had discovered.

I now saw that the dagger's handle had writing carved into it — just a few letters in runic characters.

. . . A S . . .

. . . the runes spelled out, with another character started but not completed.

"A . . . S . . ." I mulled along with replaying the voice in my mind.

Toothless now carefully banked back towards the ships for another look as I tucked the dagger into my belt for safekeeping. He tried to keep us behind the ships and hidden in the fog as he arced back and forth above and behind their sterns, allowing both of us to get a look at all of them. I now counted eight ships — a large enough force to be really dangerous if they found my village. I quickly looked up through the fog and judged the sun's position . . . navigation having been something else I was becoming fairly good at, besides designing weapons and dragon saddles. By remembering how Toothless had flown to get here, and by quick reckoning, I judged that this fleet was sailing north along the coast, and had fortunately already missed Berk in the fog. I no longer felt the need to convince Toothless to break away and return home so we could alert the others.

He then suddenly banked back up and to the right, beating his wings to move ahead alongside the ships. He gave out a quiet roar, gesturing with his head towards the ships as his left eye darted between me and one of the ships below. I now tried to look where he was looking. There was a mass of tough-looking figures on the deck of one of the ships, but they weren't wearing the style of helmets we wore in Berk. These were without horns. But there was one figure among them who wasn't wearing a helmet. This figure had a single blond braid . . . and was now training a bow and arrow on Toothless and I!

"Break out of here!" I yelled.

Toothless seemed to understand as he now banked sharply to the right and back into the fog, but not before . . . *Thunk!* the arrow landed again in my saddle, right where the dagger had.

"Astrid!" I realized out loud with a cold shock, putting it all together. No one else had an aim like she did.

"AAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!" I now yelled out in my deepest voice in mock pain amid the fog, trying to imitate a wounded dragon as best as I could, knowing that Toothless probably wouldn't quickly get such an idea. He briefly gave me a strange look and shook his head as he flew on, continuing to conceal us in the fog as we paralleled the ships.

"That is one of their dragon raiders," we heard a voice call out from the ships not far away . . . Astrid's voice. "You do not want to mess with them!" she said emphatically, as if she was trying to convince them to steer clear of our village.

I pulled out the arrow and tucked it under a flap in the saddle to keep it with us. Toothless now looked back at me with his left eye again, as if to ask me what I wanted to do now. That was a first!

"It's Astrid!" I said back to him. "You've found Astrid!"

Toothless nodded with a satisfied growl and slight smile as he looked ahead again. He knew what he was doing. He was just waiting for me to catch on to it all.

Suddenly he banked left, briefly bringing us out of the fog again, and bringing the ships back into view. We glided silently, both looking at that one ship again . . . looking for that one bare headed figure. Toothless grunted and gestured with his head down to the left again.

I looked downwards to that ship. Across what may have been ten ship-lengths in distance, I saw that figure. I saw Astrid. Both her hands were now on the ship's railing, and she was looking back at me.

Suddenly, Toothless did a quick snap roll to the left. It was a good thing I was always holding on now, ready for his surprises like this. He then roared loudly before quickly banking to the right, taking us back into the fog to hide again.

"You gave her a signal, didn't you?" I guessed aloud to Toothless once we were back in the fog, "to reassure her."

He just gave a single grunt in reply as he continued to look ahead as we flew.

"Thank you," I said as I gave him a satisfying itch in gratitude at one of his favorite spots on his neck that I now knew he liked so much, "for both Astrid and I. You're looking out for her and I now, aren't you? Like you have with me," I added, basically stating the obvious again.

Toothless just sighed deeply, as he briefly closed his eyes with contentment. But he didn't let the pleasurable gratitude I was showing him distract him from keeping us safely airborne, and shadowing those ships.

I still didn't know why he would be doing this for me, or for Astrid. But clearly now, Toothless and I weren't going back home today.