Hiccup's Flight Record

Day One

After the first test flight, we now know that the tail does work, but it needs someone to control it. Teaching Hiccup to use his hands is a lot harder than I would have thought. We made no progress in two hours, so we resolved to using his appendages instead of fingers. I suppose if you had never used your hands for, oh, fifteen years, it would be a bit overwhelming. How old is he, anyways? I should probably find that out...

Back on topic. Today, I brought a string of rope. I at first tried to attach it to his leg. Something about his tail and positioning didn't work, and he just ended falling in the lake.

We tried this several times, but it all ended with that useless Night Fury dragging his sorry butt out of the water.

Day two

We tried his wrist this time, so he still wouldn't have to use his fingers. The rope seems to get tangled up with his tail every time when it's on his wrist, and it messes him up. Plus, pulling it open sometimes is a little harsh. Hiccup fell in the lake a total of two times because on the second time he tore the tailfin and now I have to fix it.

No progress whatsoever.

Day three

So...wrist is a no. He keeps falling in the lake! I'll admit, it is quite amusing but all of those mild calibration issues keep adding up, and I can't think of any other way than for him to be able to use his hands to reach down and shift...gears, or positions, or something. I'll have to take it back and add some additions, and maybe some blueprints so he can study them. Sorry Hiccup, but you're just going to have to use your hands.

Hiccup is also learning to read and he just complained about having to use his hands. Is it bad that I pushed him back in the water?

I close the small leather bound journal and stuff it back in my sack.

The Night Fury comes gasping and sputtering back to the shore, once again dripping wet. I hold back a laugh with much difficulty but I can't help the smug smile that crosses my face.

He glares at me and growls softly, but I've come to learn the difference between threatening and...well, not-really-threatening.

"I just dried off," he whines, shaking his hair out of his eyes and flapping his wings.

The movement sends showers of droplets towards me and I end up having to wipe water out of my eyes.

"You'll live, Toothless," I say in annoyance, drawing out a hunting knife to sharpen my charcoal pencil.

"My name is not Toothless, Stormy."

Ever since he called me a 'little storm' one afternoon when I was frustrated with his tail, he didn't seem to mind his ridiculous nickname as much. Of course, that means he calls me 'Stormy,' and I'm still trying to figure out whether that's an insult or compliment, or maybe even a little of both.

"Whatever," I roll my eyes, unable to think of a comeback that wouldn't involve him calling me 'Stormy' or me calling him 'Toothless' again.

"What was that, anyways?" he asks when I put the pencil away.

"If you must know, I'm keeping track of your progress. So far, most of it ends with you flying your way headfirst into the lake."

"It's not my fault! I just can't seem to get above these stupid walls," he mutters angrily.

Something pulls inside me. Maybe guilt.

"It's okay, we'll figure it out," I promise, hoping that it's true.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he wanders over to the basket and pulls out a salmon, absentmindedly gulping it down in four swift bites. Dragons sure eat a lot. But why can't they hunt for themselves instead of raiding our village?

As a matter of fact, I asked Hiccup that the other day, and he just pointed the conversation back to something else. It didn't make sense, but then again, what in this world did? Still, I'm curious as to why they would steal from us opposed to hunting for their own food.

"If we add gears, all you'd have to do was shift in between them, and you'd be able to manipulate the tailfin. You just have to get used to using these," I wiggle my fingers as example.

He sighs. "I can't seem to figure it out. Every time I get used to doing it, it becomes foreign and strange again. Dragons don't need fingers, so why should we use them? My mom would have taught me, but..." he fades off, looking thoughtful. His green eyes had dilated into very large, almost squared pupils. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they almost looked...sad.

"Don't worry, we'll get you back to your family- or, whatever a group of Dragons is called. You'll be back in the air in no time, I'm sure of it."

"Thanks, Astrid."

I blink in surprise. He doesn't say my name too often. And when he does, it always sounds strange on his lips, as if he was not made to be pronouncing it. Which, I suppose, he isn't. But when he uses my name, I can't help but feel just the slightest bit flattered.

I rub it off with my usual emotionless demeanor.

"Don't thank me yet. Or ever. It's my fault you're downed in the first place. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me," he says in my ear, and I nearly fall off the rock I'm sitting on because he was literally twenty feet away one second ago.

"Don't...give...me a heart attack!" I push him away, and I only pause for a moment to marvel at how easy it had been for me to touch him. "And yes, I do."

"No you don't." he immediately denies.

"Hiccup, it's my fault you're stuck here in the first place."

"Yes, but you spared my life. I'd say that more than makes up for it. Especially since I'm a Dragon and you're a...well, a Viking." I can tell that it stings a little for him to admit that I'm the same as everybody else in my village, but if that were true, would I still be here? The answer is that I honestly don't know.

"But you didn't kill me. So I owe you, okay?" I push, but once again that pesky Night Fury comes up with a reply.

"But you came back. And you helped me. Helping me."

"That didn't make sense."

"Oh, for the love of- just accept that you don't owe me anything!" he throws up his hands and walks away, and I laugh at how funny his frustration looks on him.

"You're not made to be frustrated, are you?"

"I'm meant to be either fierce, threatening, or downright terrifying. Which would you prefer?"

"Hmm, heavy sarcasm seems to be part of your chemical buildup," I note in a mocking and scientific tone.

"Shut up."

"No, I don't think I will."

"A bold thing to say in front of the acclaimed Night Fury," he grins mischievously.

"A toothless Night Fury-"

Before I can blink an eye, I'm suddenly being tackled into the water.

I come up sputtering the same way Hiccup had just a few minutes ago.

"You are such a jerk!" I screech, and splash water at him.

He gives me a very un-toothless smile and splashes back. I can't help but laugh.

"Useless half-reptile," I insult.

"Stupid half-human," he fires back.

I don't even stop to think about the overall weirdness of the situation: Just us, a Viking and a Night Fury, without a weapon in sight and absolutely no intention of either of us harming the other.

"Alright, I think I have it," I announce the next day. There is no way possible that I can sneak up on Hiccup, so I pretty much skip the greetings and small talk.

As usual, Hiccup is waiting for me happily. "Okay."

"Okay?" I raise my eyebrow and drop the tailfin on the ground. "That's all I get? For staying up all night long and then raising up at the crack of dawn for early morning training-"

"Training?"

Oh, shoot.

"Uh...yeah...for, uh...Viking...stuff..."

"Cool. Did you bring food?" he asks with different enthusiasm.

"What? I mean, yeah. I did." I dropped the basket of fish as well.

"You really like fish," I comment, amused.

"Uh huh. Most Dragons do."

"If they like fish so much then why do they raid our sheep?"

But he's already scarfing down his meal, and he doesn't hear me. Or, maybe he did, but just pretended not to.

After he finished an hour's worth of fishing (in about five minutes flat), he was ready to get started.

"So, what's the plan today?" he jumps up, licking his lips.

"You're going to learn gears," I say.

He pauses and looks nervous. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Sure. We'll find a way so that I can fly with you up there for a moment so we can see if it actually works or not, but after that, we should be able to get you flying."

"Okay," he says.

"Just the thing, though...how am I going to fly with you?"

"Easy, can't you just fly yourself?"

I freeze at his suggestion. Subconsciously, I sneak a glance down at my arm wrappings.

"I'm sure you can get your wings."

"But...if I get my wings, I'll Turn, and I won't be able to go back..."

He doesn't have anything to say to that, and I didn't expect him to.

"I'm sure I can just carry you. I'm stronger than I look, you know," he says.

I twist my mouth into a thin, hard line and run my hands up either sides of the insides of my wrists. My scales haven't bothered me too much, but once I added the pressure, it was like they wanted to come alive and were buzzing with energy.

Another thing I had recently noticed; I always referred to my scales as 'they', 'them', or 'it'. They were always things, not part of my actual body. I can't let them be. But I hadn't looked at them in a while.

"Okay," I say shakily. "Let's just get this over with."

Hiccup laughes. "If that's your attitude about flying, it's going to be one heck of a flight."

"Excuse me?" I cross my arms and try to ignore the burst of desperate desire in my arms to be freed.

"In flight. If you don't want to be flying, it's not going to be a fun experience."

"Well, I'm not looking for a good experience. I'm only looking for getting you back in the air, so we can both go back to where we belong."

"Oh. Okay."

I felt a little bad as soon as I snapped at him, but that's what our goal was- is- right?

"Okay. So, gears. Let's see..."

Day Four

Today, I flew with Hiccup. First, we attached a string to my hand so I could shift between gears. It works best if I turn them manually, but he can't always reach for it.

It actually worked, for the most part. The part that scared me though was the actual flying. I always came off of his back dazed and a little light headed. I just played it off like I got air-sickness.

But that wasnt it. It was holding back the buzz in the scales. They wanted the air, they wanted to be flying. It was really hard to ignore. We flew around the cove for a few (really fast) laps before it got too much and I couldn't concentrate.

Higher, they urged. Just a little higher. I couldn't pay attention to the gears and we ended up getting tossed into the lake, but hey, it worked, did it not?

Day Five

Today, we tried my feet. I actually directed us out of the cove. I was determined to keep the Dragon in me contained, and it actually worked.

That is, until Hiccup caught scent of something and dived downwards, too quick for me to react.

I was sent rolling into a patch of grass.

"Hiccup, what the heck was that about?" I had demanded, but he wasn't listening. He was too busy rolling around in the grass, himself. He was utterly happy and looked about as content as he could be. He almost looked...drugged. Like he had eaten some kind of weird herb that made his brain turn to mush.

To be honest, he looked like a cat, with his ear flaps pressed tightly to his head in contentment, his wings flailing around like he was rolling in catnip for Dragons.

I will never understand that useless Dragon.

The grass did kind of smell good, though...

I tucked some in my pocket. Who knew when it could come in handy in the ring, right? That's the reason and I'm sticking with it.

"So, my leg doesn't work, either," I grumble the next day. "How is this going to work?"

"You tell me."

"Right. So, you carry me on your back like usual, and I cling to dear life praying we don't fall-"

"And you control...this...weird thingy," Hiccup tried to reach the metal contraption that ran from his tail to right underneath his arm. It was a way that if you turned the dial, it would shift gears, making it easier. But it was tricky and complicated, and I'm not sure Hiccup's ready for it. Heck, I'm not even sure if I'm ready for it.

"Okay. So. You're gonna have to trust me to fly us out of the cove, and then we'll attach this rope here to something so I can practice the different gears," I go over the plan.

"Sounds good," he flaps his wings and shakes out his body. He's anxious, I can feel it in the air. What I won't ever admit is that I am, too.

"Let's do this..."

So, what'd you think? I know, lots of filler things. I hope the journal entries helped with those small scenes from the actual movie. It passed too quickly, and I know that there should be more Viking moments, so I'll add those next. But next chapter will begin with them practicing, more Viking stuff, and who knows? We might even get to their first actual flight...

See you next Thursday!