A/N: And now, the chapter I have been both anticipating and dreading: Toothless' chapter. Let me know how this goes, yeah? The review button is there for a reason.
Also, because I have not quite recovered from my latest obsession, I am considering posting a collection of Hiccup/Astrid drabbles. Mostly because I've already thought up above five scenarios in the time it takes for me to go from closing my eyes to sleeping. I'm a relatively hardcore shipper. Let me know what you think?
I'm sorry about how long this is, but in my eyes this is the most important relationship in the entire movie, not to mention my favourite. I've tried to shorten as much as I can, but please bear with me!
ANYWAY. Enjoy~!
Hiccup's last words to Toothless weren't exactly encouraging. No… No! They both knew, the moment the makeshift tail fin burnt away to nothing but metal rods, that the chances of them both getting out unscathed were pretty low. Still, Hiccup had a duty to serve to his people and a father to prove himself to, and Toothless didn't really have a choice. Not that he would have opted out if he did have the choice. He would have followed this boy to the ends of the earth and over the edge. If Hiccup went down, they both went down.
The pain of impact on the unforgiving mass of tail nearly knocked Toothless out, but the heat of the flames around him and the lack of weight on his back forced him to keep fighting unconsciousness. Hiccup hadn't been quite so strong: hardly surprising, given his build. As if in slow motion, Toothless saw him fall in blissful ignorance towards oblivion, and it didn't matter if he had no control over his flight anymore. He had to try.
He dived after him, his poor, burnt wreck of a master, and swooped upon him like an angel of death. He hugged his frail, lightly burnt body tight against his scaly belly and felt a tingle against his stomach that meant something was on fire, even if he couldn't feel the heat from the apparently small flame. Though Toothless had never taken active part in a raid, he had seen that humans being on fire was never a particularly good thing. He wrapped his wings tight around Hiccup's body for safety: this way, if Hiccup began burning to a crisp Toothless would at least be able to feel something, maybe even smother the flames. The downside of this was that there was nothing to slow them down on their descent and they dropped. The flames seared Toothless' eyeballs: he screwed them shut and rolled onto his back, bending his spine slightly so he was sure Hiccup would get maximum protection against their impact. Cracking his eyes open, Toothless looked over his shoulder but still saw no sign of the pebbly beach that meant landing. Turning his head back around, he saw his incomplete tail flapping helplessly over his head.
His last conscious thought was a fervent hope that Hiccup would survive to make him a new tail. Then the beach loomed from nowhere and smashed explosively into Toothless' back.
Toothless did not immediately open his eyes when he came to. His body was a throbbing mass of bruises: in his half-conscious state he assumed he had just executed a spectacularly bad crash landing, and that he was lying next to the lake in the cove, and Hiccup would poke his head around the corner any minute and laugh at him. Toothless would probably fire a friendly blast at his feet to remind him who had the firepower in their relationship-
Fire. That was when he remembered. Unwillingly, he opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of the gathering crowd of Vikings watching him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. He couldn't feel the tingle of fire against his belly anymore, which meant that he had either been successful in quenching whatever flames had burned on Hiccup's body or the fire had taken over him entirely and when he opened his wings there would be nothing in his arms but ashes.
He didn't like to think about that.
He stared down the crowd fearlessly. He didn't want to let them see how scared he was. He didn't yet know how he felt about these people: they had, after all, trussed him up and bound him in chains and pushed Hiccup to sacrificing himself for them. If Hiccup liked them enough to save them, maybe Toothless should too. But he knew about the way they used to treat him: Hiccup told him about it, sometimes. While Hiccup wasn't around to make the decision for him, Toothless decided hostility would keep them out of his face and so it was a hostile glare he eyed them with before, after what he deemed to be a lengthy dramatic pause, he opened his wings to reveal what lay within.
He didn't want them to think that he didn't know himself what had happened to Hiccup, and until he knew what to think of them he didn't want to show too much affection either lest they decide to pet him. He watched their reactions instead of looking down, but they betrayed little. The crowd parted and Hiccup's blonde friend, Astrid, stumbled forward. Her eyes scanned Toothless' belly- the exact area where Hiccup should be lying- and for a moment Toothless dared to hope. There was obviously something down there for her to look at! Maybe Hiccup was still unconscious. Unconscious, but safe. Alive! Toothless was about to execute a knowing glance down to confirm what he prayed was right, but then Astrid's eyes widened and she stumbled back as if someone had punched her in the gut. Beneath his mask of indifference, he panicked- it hadn't worked, he had failed, Hiccup was dead, he had failed, he had failed-
Another Viking with a hanging blonde moustache and a wooden leg appeared beside Astrid. Toothless couldn't remember his name, but he remembered the dismembered limbs. Hiccup had told him about this man: his boss, or something like that. "You got him!" the Boss cried in celebration, and Toothless felt Hope rear its cautious head once more in his heart. Then the Boss' face fell and Hope regretted bothering to wake up. "Well. Most of him."
Most of him? What was that supposed to mean? Toothless' mind restlessly explored the possibilities. Maybe Hiccup's head had been on fire and now there was nothing there. Maybe the fire had cut him clean in half. Toothless had seen what that monster dragon's fire could do, even to supposedly flame-proof dragons. Oh Odin. (Toothless didn't really know what an Odin was, but he had heard Hiccup say it plenty of times before and figured that it might be fitting for his current situation.)What had happened? All manner of nasty things could have happened to Hiccup, and what was Toothless going to do about it? Nothing, that was what, because there was nothing he could do. No, no, no…
No. Calm down. He had to be calm. Astrid had obviously seen something there, and there had to be something down there to cause her such alarm. Maybe it was Hiccup's burns. They would have to be pretty awful. That was no small inferno he had been engulfed in before, there had to be some scars. And he had been on fire at some point… Plus, the Boss had very clearly said 'you got him'. Which meant that there was something recognizable left of Hiccup down there. So maybe he shouldn't despair just yet.
One of the other smaller Vikings very solemnly removed his helmet from his head and held it to his chest, head bowed and eyes shut. Toothless wasn't exactly an expert in human body language or mannerisms but he took this to be a mark of grim respect. Astrid stared as the Vikings around her did the same. Toothless struggled to put the pieces together: judging from their faces and silence it must have been a mark of respect for something, something they wouldn't be doing unless something very important had happened.
Something like Hiccup surviving that terrifying inferno?
Satisfied that the Vikings' gazes were adverted, at least for the moment, Toothless flashed his gaze down very quickly to where Hiccup would be lying. Part of him didn't want to, but most of him was dying to.
What he saw made him want to leap up and blast a plume of triumphant fire into the air. Hiccup was alive! Unconscious, yes, and burnt, but even in the brief glance Toothless had spared for him he could see he was breathing. Breathing. Taking in air and expelling it out again. Alive.
Which begged the question: why did these people all look so grim?
Hiccup was alive. Wasn't that a good thing? Maybe these people hated Hiccup so much they were lamenting the fact that he wasn't dead. Toothless felt rage bubble inside him. Didn't they realize that Hiccup had just sacrificed himself for them? These- these worthless tubs of lard, these ungrateful brutish worms? Up until recently, loyalty had been a very foreign notion to Toothless, so maybe he didn't quite understand the fundamentals of it, but what on earth did Hiccup owe these wretched people that could have pushed him so far as to risk his life for theirs?
Goodness, these humans were complicated.
"That's enough." The crowd parted again, this time to allow the big bushy man that was Hiccup's father to appear. At the sound of his voice, the Vikings roused themselves from their ominous stupor and watched him, waiting for orders. Toothless was as undecided about Hiccup's father as he was about the rest of the village: he knew that Hiccup felt slightly threatened by his father, he knew that he had a nasty habit of killing any dragon he set his sights on and he very clearly remembered being held down and tied up like a common animal by order of Stoick. However, he also remembered who it was who had broken him out of his bonds and let him return to Hiccup, and even though he had pretended he wasn't listening Toothless had heard every word of Stoick's apology to Hiccup. And Hiccup appeared to have forgiven him. Toothless couldn't help but feel uneasy in his commanding presence and instead treated him as a colleague of sorts, deciding that for the moment they were only bound by a mutual love for Hiccup.
Stoick fell to his knees in front of Toothless. The villagers didn't look overly alarmed by this, which meant that either the chief collapsed on a regular basis or they didn't blame him for breaking down. Head tipped slightly to one side, Toothless looked at his face curiously. He could see the faintest echoes of turmoil set deep within his dark eyes, but a stubborn steel covered it all up. Maybe he was trying to be strong for his son, for his reputation. As his beefy arms reached out to Hiccup, Toothless understood- the collapse had been an involuntary move, but he couldn't seem weak. He had to act strong, even if he was being torn to shreds inside. Like Toothless.
With Hiccup now held to his father's barrel chest, Toothless could now drink in the sight of his living body freely. He was, as he had guessed, burnt, but not majorly so. His freckles stood out against his stark white face and the limp way with which he hung in his father's arms made him seem so much smaller and hopeless. There was something else, though… At first Toothless couldn't place it, but eventually he figured it out. Humans had two legs: he knew that much from watching from afar during raids and now from his recent, albeit unexpected, interaction with Hiccup. Those who didn't had wooden stand-ins, like the Boss. With a horrible sinking sensation in his stomach, Toothless realized Hiccup was headed for the same fate, because were two fuzzy boots should have been dangling there was now only one. Instead of a left boot, there was now only a steady trickle of blood, spilling out over Stoick's arm and splashing quietly down on the pebbles.
Toothless didn't react, but inside he felt that a small part of him had died. Hiccup was alive, sure, but who knew how long that would last? The pallor of Hiccup's skin was horrifically alarming and the blood that flowed didn't exactly look like it was coming from a minor cut. Those horrible moments in which Toothless had seen Hiccup fall helplessly into the flames replayed themselves before his eyes and he realized with a sickening blow to his stomach that if there was anyone to blame for Hiccup's mutilation it was him. He had failed to get to him in time, and so had failed to protect the only living thing that had ever mattered to him. If he had just tried a little harder to avoid that thrice-damned tail, or been quicker to regain his bearings, maybe he would have gotten to Hiccup in time. Maybe he would still be here, unconscious and burnt, but with all four limbs intact. It should have been Toothless, he could have survived with half a leg missing. He could still fly, provided Hiccup was around to control his tail. Besides, he was the fireproof one of the two of them- he should have been hurt, he would have been able to handle it better. Hiccup was too… Too young, too fragile, too good to have anything as horrible as this happen to him. It shouldn't have been Hiccup.
Stoick's hand on his neck jerked him out of his inner turmoils and into the man's small eyes. Toothless couldn't speak, but even if he could he knew he would have been speechless anyway. As he looked into Stoick's eyes, he saw a reflection of himself, and it wasn't in the literal way. He saw the guilt and fear and agony that he felt warring endlessly with each other in the chief's eyes, and for a moment wondered if maybe they weren't that different after all. His mouth hung slightly open, like he was trying to think of something to say. Toothless knew the word that he wanted- sorry- be he also knew that five letters wouldn't feel sufficient for this particular carnage. Toothless knew that this wouldn't have happened if he hadn't burst into the arena to save Hiccup, but he also knew that Stoick would have done the same if only to save his clumsy, weird son. Toothless knew how this had happened, but he felt that he would never understand why.
But there was nothing he could do about it, so he just nodded and emitted a faint moan that he hoped communicated something. Apparently he had, though he wasn't quite sure what as Stoick stood straight with Hiccup in his arms and turned away. For a moment Toothless' every instinct urged him to lunge at Stoick, knock him down and take Hiccup back, but he barely resisted when Stoick said 'We have to get him back to the ships'. This was good, Toothless reflected, as he hauled his sorry mass of bruises to his feet: they were going to do something. They were going to get Hiccup back home and take care of him. And then Toothless would be able to see into his eyes again and know they were staring right back with a goofy smile to match.
Toothless was surprised when Astrid fell after Stoick. Even from where he was he heard her voice falter, and knew that the unbreakable girl finally needed someone to lean on. Ignoring the screams of his protesting muscles, Toothless forced himself forward until he was just behind Astrid. As he drew close, he could hear her asking for Hiccup to be taken back via dragon: had he been able to, Toothless would have supported her argument, but once Stoick delivered his he knew it was a lost cause. Seeing her posture sag at this latest rejection, Toothless nuzzled her head lightly with his, letting her know he was there. He felt her cheeks lift in a weak smile as he glared down Stoick, as much for himself as for Hiccup and Astrid because despite knowing that there was plenty of blame to go around, it had been Stoick who had bound Toothless in shackles and brushed off his son and if it hadn't been for that, Toothless might still be sitting in the cove, waiting for Hiccup to appear with a fish and his weird saddle clothes.
Stoick met his gaze unflinchingly, but he didn't fool Toothless. He recognized the posture and the face and the eyes because he was experiencing the same thing- this hopeless loss for words, this utter confusion, this suffocating mist that made reality seem so surreal even when it was shoved brusquely in your face. Oh yes. Toothless was very familiar with that.
"We need your navigation to get back to Berk," he said, voice little more than a hoarse whisper. The hopelessness had seeped into his voice, now, too, and rang clear in Toothless' ears. "This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me and I know I treated you- both of you- unfairly but please do this. For Hiccup."
Toothless knew the 'for Hiccup' part was added in to sway him if he wasn't already convinced, but it was completely unnecessary. Hearing Stoick admit to blame seemed to lessen how much of it was on his shoulders in Toothless' eyes, but he had made up his mind long before any of this. Rain, hail or shine, he was going with Hiccup, wherever that may be.
Still, he pretended to hesitate. Part of him was reluctant to go: he felt almost as if the moment he left Astrid's side she would collapse and just lie there on the pebbles forever. She was beginning to look as pale as Hiccup and her eyes were darting back and forth constantly, as lost as Toothless was. She was probably used to being in charge of a situation and having something to do: not being able to do anything about Hiccup's current predicament probably didn't sit with her very well. Plus, it looked like the first time she had really stared possible loss in the face.
But even as Toothless thought this, Stoick was marching off again, and he had no choice but to follow. He had only moved a few paces before he turned back to Astrid desperately. At first, he had wanted to smile at her, give her some sort of a boost, but his resolve quickly crumbled away in the shadow of what he was about to face. He just wanted to know why. Why the forces of nature would converge so that Hiccup had no choice but to fight off that monstrous dragon, why the fire would take away what little control Toothless had left over his own flight, why that tail would knock Hiccup away from him and plummeting towards his death with a single, indifferent swipe, why Toothless couldn't have been injured in Hiccup's place. Why, even as he dreamed of being back in the cove waiting for Hiccup to appear between those two boulders with a fish in one hand and his saddle in the other, and that big bright smile that always lit up even his most bedraggled face when he saw Toothless, all he saw was a bulky figure that did not resemble Hiccup one bit disappearing into swirling mist, leaving not footprints in the soft mud Toothless had grown accustomed to but splatters of blood on the unforgiving black pebbles that lined the beach.
All Astrid gave him was a weak smile. She didn't follow him or help him understand what was happening. She just tried to smile, barely succeeded, and watched him. He could see the desperation in her eyes as clearly as he could see it in Stoick's, and she did little to hide it, but for a moment he wished she would at least try to pull herself together and help someone who was in as much pain as she was, maybe even more. Then he turned away, giving up hope on any help from that end, and followed the crowd of Vikings moving back towards the ships.
Toothless' cage was lost overboard, and it wouldn't have been used anyway, but he still felt a certain sense of trepidation about stepping on board again. Maybe it was the people staring and whispering as he moved by them. Maybe it was the pressing sensation that the moment he set foot on board he would be accepting that there was something wrong with Hiccup, something very bad, and if they didn't work fast enough or efficiently enough that very bad thing would make him very dead. Part of him assumed it was the latter option, and though he didn't show it it took a great deal of strength for him to take that final step and board the ship. He shoved through the crowd- he didn't have any time for manners- with his eyes set firmly on where Hiccup was held above the crowd's heads in Stoick's arms. Sliding in behind Stoick's thick legs, he assigned himself guard duty and growled threateningly at anyone who so much as breathed too close to Hiccup. He was in a fragile enough state as it was: Toothless could smell the foul stench on these people from a mile away, and he didn't want that contaminating Hiccup when he was as close to death as he was.
Death… The notion almost made Toothless collapse. He had never had anything in this life that was worth his attention, let alone love. He had never felt loyalty before, and he had certainly never expected to become so devoted to a human, especially one as weak as Hiccup. But it was all of his weird attributes that drew Toothless to him: his sometimes foolish kindness, his occasional naiveté, his strange encouragements when they were flying, his charity, his sarcasm, his weakness. It was all of those things that made him so deliciously different from the brutish warriors that made up the rest of his clan, and that was why Toothless had decided to trust him.
Now… He was beginning to wonder if it was a mistake. Facing the loss of Hiccup seemed, right then, to be more than he could bear. All of these new emotions- love and loyalty and a burning desire to see Hiccup laugh again, or even just feel his weight on his back- warred inside of him, constantly screaming for acknowledgement but every time he paid attention to one all he got was a sharp, painful pang to his heart, like he was being torn apart over and over again. He was breaking to pieces, and the only person who could fix it was Hiccup. Toothless pushed his face close to the freckly one of Hiccup's, nuzzled it softly and blinked down into his closed eyes confusedly, waiting for him to wake up and tell him it was all going to be OK and that he would come early to the cove tomorrow morning so they could get extra flying time in before Hiccup had to go to training.
It didn't happen.
He just kept bleeding, and no-one did anything about it. Stoick's arm wasn't absorbing or stopping any of the flow. Toothless felt anger surge through him: Hiccup had gone through so much for these people and now it seemed they were more than willing to let him bleed to death. Why didn't they just put the wooden replacement on already? Wasn't that how it went? They just slapped the new leg on, let the victim get some rest and then he popped up again, good as new, if not better? Why were they waiting so long? The sooner they got it done, the sooner Hiccup would be on his feet- foot- again. Toothless was about to utter a roar of protest when he caught sight of Astrid.
She had seemingly materialized from nowhere, eyes darting between Stoick, Hiccup and Toothless restlessly. Toothless' head cocked to one side slightly and he blinked, but other than that he showed no outward reaction. Inwardly, he dared to hope a little. Astrid was as helpless as anyone else in terms of Hiccup's fate, but maybe if she was with him Toothless would be able to stay strong enough to get Hiccup home. Besides, Astrid was the only person he trusted alone with Hiccup.
"Who's going to take care of Hiccup?" he heard Stoick say. He opened his mouth to make a voluntary noise, but Astrid stepped forward and beat him to it.
"I will," she said, and Toothless tried to feel angry at her even though he knew that she was better for the job than he. Similar of stature and size, with hands and a voice that could form comforting words. He was glad it was Astrid who would watch over his best friend in his darkest hours.
Stoick looked lost. He focused on Astrid and stared blankly for a few moments. "Astrid," he murmured, like he recognized the name but not what it meant. "What are you doing here?"
"I'll take care of Hiccup," she repeated patiently. Toothless could see in her eyes the fear he knew he and Stoick shared, but in spite of that she kept up appearances and stayed strong. He regretted what he thought on the beach, and his feelings changed to ones of respect.
It seemed to make sense to Stoick, who suddenly turned on his heel and marched off down a small set of stairs. The moment Hiccup disappeared into the uncertainty of darkness was the moment Toothless lost control: he instinctively roared and lunged after him, yearning to follow and take Hiccup from Stoick's arms and protect him from invisible demons that threatened to take both life and leg. He felt a dull thud on his neck and whirled to see the Boss' metal hook fastened to Toothless' neck, holding him back. Toothless snarled; his face remained fearless.
He felt another light pressure on his scales, and turned again to see Astrid. Her face was soft and afraid now, and she looked so much older. Her eyebrows were angled up pleadingly and her eyes were scarred with fear and pity. Toothless looked at her questioningly, the helplessness of his situation overwhelming him.
"You need to stay up here to navigate us home," she said, voice surprisingly soft and soothing despite the dire situation. "I'll keep an eye on Hiccup, I'll let you know if…" Toothless knew what she was going to say, but he was still gratified when she said "If anything goes wrong". He trusted her, and so turned away and let the Boss lead him to the head of the ship. He did what he was told, but not carefully. A grunt and a toss of the head was enough as instinct navigated him through the treacherous rocks. He remembered being in similar conditions not so long ago and suddenly hated himself for giving in so easily to instinct. If he had just resisted, he could have lead them in a circle or just away from the island, and they would figure that he had no use and let him go. Even as he thought of it he dismissed it with a snort. If he had no use, he was as good as dead. The only good dragon was a dead dragon. And while he might have spared Hiccup one physical injury, he knew that his death would leave Hiccup a lifetime of incurable emotional wounds, and that guilt would never leave Toothless, not even in death.
As instinct lead the way, Toothless let his mind wander back to the day he had met Hiccup. He remembered the hatred and the shock when he realized that this scrawny runt of a boy was the one who had brought him down and robbed him of flight. He remembered wondering what he had done so wrong that would require a dragon heart to fix. He remembered looking the runt in the eye for the first time. He remembered everything he had wanted to say with his eyes: doubt that the runt would actually have to strength to do this deed and just a hint of pleading. He knew there was no chance of flying again with the condition his tail was in, and that as long as he was down he was as good as dead, but there was a certain indignity about being killed by a kid. He was scared, but he couldn't show it. He watched the boy, watched and watched, and eventually gave up. The knife was small, the boy was constantly hesitating, so doubtless his death would be long and slow and painful. He closed his eyes for the last time and rolled away with a resigned moan and waited… For nothing. Nothing had happened. He wanted to know what was happening, but he didn't want to come across as curious and over eager. He became so wrapped up in his image that he didn't even notice when the boy fell to his knees beside him and began cutting the ropes free. He had stared in disbelief, already formulating plans of how he would kill him and somehow preserve him to he could use him to survive over the long, hard weeks to come, but then something happened that made him stop. The boy cast a frantic, worried glance over his shoulder, a glance that conveyed fear. Fear that someone would come over that hill at any moment and see him. It made him pause. He was just as terrified of his own people as Toothless was. Why, he didn't know or care, but he had freed him and they were bonded, however weakly, by a mutual fear. So Toothless let him go with a roar that threatened a quick death if the boy was stupid enough to blab about his experience.
Which was why he couldn't help being surprised when he came back. Toothless knew he could reach the rock he was on and kill him there and then, seeing as he was so insistent about coming back, but once again he stopped. He remembered the fear, and saw how quickly he scampered away, and was harassed by doubt until he drifted into hungry sleep. The next time he had come had been a curious experience for Toothless. He was mystified (and slightly annoyed) by the fact he had returned yet again and shocked by how easily he had tossed his knife away. That gesture propelled him forward, increased his trust a little more. The fish was good, and the regurgitation was a gesture of kindness. Or so he thought. He should have been offended by the boy's reluctance to eat it, but he was just too eager to make sure that he liked this gift to really care. He had extended a hand, and Toothless darted away because he was scared that his trust would be misused. He slept to escape the strange, unfamiliar emotions and problems that plagued him, and when he woke again more arrived when he saw the boys' drawing, clearly of him. He was proud of his maze, defensive when the boy threatened to ruin it and unreasonably pleased when he used it. For the second time, a hand was outstretched, and for the first time Toothless realized that he now wholeheartedly trusted the boy. It was a historic moment: human and dragon meeting in harmony and peace. Toothless would remember that.
After that, Hiccup started talking to him. Named him. At first, Toothless didn't like being restricted to being something after being free for so long, but the boy was so earnest he had to give in. That, and he had food. Even though it only seemed like he was eating, he was listening as Hiccup told him about his father, his village, his awkward life. The people that teased him. He held on to every word, and now it all seemed to play out in front of him like it was just yesterday. He got lost in the sunny, grassy cove, and for a moment the air he breathed was warm and clean and was peaceful, not reeking of blood and grief.
His head swayed, a gesture someone took for a direction. The boat knocked against a rock and the big wooden bucket rocked: Toothless was jerked out of his peaceful daydreams and staggered wildly as he was dragged back to the present, where Hiccup was bleeding to death below because despite everything he had done for him Toothless had failed to protect him. He couldn't find his balance, he was sick and dizzy and lost and confused-
He felt a steadying hand on his shoulder, and turned. There was Stoick, eyebrows knitted in unexpected concern. Once again, Toothless caught a glimpse of that mutual fear and love for Hiccup, that knowledge that there was no love between them. A fervent hope that Hiccup would be safe. Toothless slowly straightened, regaining his balance. Surprisingly, he felt himself become calm again. Despite the fact that there was no prominent resemblance between Hiccup and Stoick, he had seen a piece of the boy he had grown to love in those eyes, amongst the turmoil and conflict. And once again he felt the lulling arms of trust.
Stoick moved away, and Toothless caught himself. He couldn't afford to let himself trust anyone else. Because trust inevitably lead to love, and if he lost Hiccup today all he would never bring himself to love again. Until he knew what would happen for sure, he had to be passive. No-one could know…
The scream, muffled as it was, tore through the air like daggers. Toothless had only heard Hiccup cry out a handful of times- in fear or frustration or elation- but never like this. He would recognize the owner of the voice anywhere, but it took him a moment to grasp the concept that Hiccup was in pain, that he was creating that fearful sound that he heard now, that he had to be there with him. His head swung around wildly for a moment, and he forced himself to be strong and hold out. If he lost control now, they could ruin the boat in some rocks and then Hiccup would never have a hope in hell. He widened his eyes and his neck muscles tightened as he tried to block out the world and focus on the foggy horizon, but the screams tore through whatever daydreams he tried to lose himself in because all of them involved Hiccup. Happy, healthy Hiccup.
The screams intensified, accompanied by soft thumps from below. That was enough. He uttered a roar of mixed fear and worry and reared up on his back legs, pushing through the thick crowd. It didn't matter if there was nothing he could do- he had to be there. He remembered the pain that had racked his bones when he had made his crash landing. It wasn't quite as intense as this, but it wasn't exactly a party. Hiccup hadn't abandoned him then. Toothless couldn't abandon him now.
Once again, he felt the metal pressure of the Boss' hook on his shoulder and uttered another roar, finally showing his true colours. Self-pity and fear and worry and sorrow and pleading. All he wanted was to be down there with Hiccup. Couldn't they understand that? Of course not. They knew nothing of loyalty. Toothless had decided that even he had a more extensive knowledge of loyalty than they did.
"Just get us out of these rocks," the Boss grunted unlovingly. "Then you can go see him, alright?"
Toothless lifted his eyes and scanned the faces of the crew pleadingly, but they refused to meet his eyes. He felt a twinge of disgust at the people, to the point where he could no longer bear to look at them. He lowered his head once more and followed the Boss. He felt every muscle twinge and flinch with every scream, and could barely contain his desire to tear away and follow Hiccup. The most he did was look over his shoulder, eyes searching pleadingly for any sign that the scream wasn't coming from Hiccup and that he was hauling himself up those stairs now.
His knees trembled as he reached the head of the ship. He could barely keep himself up. This was too much. The thought of a Hiccup-free tomorrow… He couldn't let anyone fly him again. He wouldn't. He didn't care if that made him useless and dead. He had no purpose anyway. He almost wished that he were dead now, so he wouldn't have to endure this. He heard muted discussion nearby, but the words didn't penetrate his conscious. He had drifted off. Instinct had taken over his body again and he didn't have to bother with thought as he gestured with his head as to which way to go. He felt his emotions throw themselves together in a tight ball in his chest, begging to be released in a roar he didn't have the energy to conjure up. The fog became more and more suffocating until it had taken over his entire world and he saw nothing but a blank, white future. Time didn't seem to exist. Nothing existed, except his worthless heartbeat pounding in his ears. He felt a dull pang in his heart when he realized how hollow it sounded without the imagined sound of Hiccup's heartbeat. He didn't fully process what that might mean, just that a little imaginary piece of him had died.
The next round of screaming was accompanied by a blast of fresh night air in the face. Toothless blinked and looked around wildly. He could see the shadows of the fog and rocks nowhere. How long had they been free? Why had no-one told him? All those thoughts were washed away when he realized Hiccup was screaming again, and Toothless still wasn't by his side.
He found his voice, and released everything in a roar. He leapt up and crashed down on the deck again, sending people scattering with screams of fear. He didn't even notice that he barely fitted through the doorway as he barrelled down the stairs into a dimly lit room where Astrid kneeled at Hiccup's head, pinning him down at the shoulders with her lips pressed together. He brushed past Stoick, barely taking note of him as he bounded past and stood at Astrid's side, sniffing Hiccup's contorted face concernedly. Why was this happening? What was he doing? Didn't he realize how much pain he was putting Toothless through by just uttering such a sound from his lips? Those freckles that had become so familiar over the last few weeks looked like they were about to pop off his cheeks, he was so tense. He looked at Astrid's clenched hands and felt a pang as he realized that while they could do nothing about Hiccup having lost his leg she was more active than he was. She was preventing him from further harm, while Toothless stood there and wondered what was happening and why. It was killing him.
Toothless uttered a helpless moan and began bouncing around the small room in circles, desperate to do something. If he was human, he was sure he would be crying now. He would be screaming, like Hiccup. He couldn't bear this. Nothing could describe his emotional pain. The terror, the fear, the confusion, the sorrow.
Toothless barely heard Astrid's teary pleads, knocking over anything and everything that got in his way. He wanted to scream as loud as he could, but his throat was so strangled he couldn't bring forth any sound. He dimly heard Stoick utter a low moan, and more painstakingly heard Astrid's sobs increase in volume until she could barely control herself. Toothless stopped and looked at her with big, pained eyes. He slowly moved over to her, pushing his head close to hers. Her hands twitched, like she was going to move, but she barely resisted. Her shoulders shook with sobs, and even Toothless could see that her hands were trembling so badly they were hardly any use against Hiccup's tortured bucking anyway. He closed his eyes and tried to escape, but it did nothing. He tipped his head back and released as much sound as he could muster. The sound dragged on and filled the cabin, but didn't hide the despairing sounds of the other tortured souls trapped in the stuffy room.
Hiccup screamed. Astrid sobbed. Stoick moaned. Toothless howled. The sounds carried up to the deck, where the crew could only listen awkwardly until once more a helmet was pulled from a head, held to a heart and kept there in respect and sincerity as the sound of low, murmuring prayer left the lips of the Vikings and floated to the stars.