Chapter 9

Mostly reflections in this one, no real action. Actually, nobody even has any speaking lines either.

Enjoy.

Stoic couldn't stand it.

His emotions were running amok, prisoners of pain left rampant without their warden. The pain he felt at the death of Valhalmara and the pain at the near loss of his son were conflicting fiercely with each other. On one hand, they had been responsible for so much death and destruction in their village… but then again, hadn't they as well? Hiccup did have a point; they killed more than any animal. Because animals – and dragons, he supposed – only kill out of necessity, or when they feel a threat. Humans, especially Vikings, hunt for sport. A few days ago, he would have loved to see that confident Night Fury's head plastered to a wall.

Now all he could think about was the worry that it wasn't going to live.

Bones were crushed, and the tail was so twisted that the elder/healer had to break bones just to get them to heal straight. While it had withstood most of the damage, and any of the other dragons could have taken it, this was different. Nobody had dropped anything on a Night Fury before. There was a first time for everything, as the saying goes. Everything was unknown, in the hands of the Gods now.

Stoic stood outside the house, watching his son not eat for days and then go to bed hungry. He just sat there, watching with expectant eyes every chest rise, every chest fall. Did he notice his father watching? Perhaps – it was hard to tell, especially when he never gave any acknowledgment to anybody. Astrid and Gobber were coldly ignored too. It was frustrating on all of them, but they would have to deal with it. At one point, Astrid had dragged him out of the house and they went for a walk. It seemed to do him a bit of good, getting some strength back into his bones.

They ended up at the cove, and what strength he had gained went away. He didn't cry, but he went on unaware of everything around him. He walked around a black pile of ash, danced deftly through a muddy trail of random dirt lines, climbed rocks to a mass of dragon nip… all completely unaware.

He was depressed; there was no doubt about it. Astrid was severely worried for him, but the only thing to do was to just wait and hope Toothless healed. Once he was up, the two of them would be normal again and they'd be up in the air in no time.

The weeks went by. "This must be what he felt when I wouldn't wake up." Hiccup thought to himself. He wasn't completely depressed all the time, in fact, sometimes he would just sit and watch his buddy's hypnotic body patterns, thinking deeply about his situation. Why had he done it? It didn't make any sense… Stoic had been a threat to him, was trying to kill him. Why would he save him from the stone bowl?

Out of the goodness of his heart? Did dragons even have a 'heart'? No, there was more to it. Maybe he remembered the last time he had defended his father from Toothless, and Toothless was just repaying him. That could be it, but he'd have to think a little more. He knew Dragons have a heightened sense of smell, maybe he smelled the connection between him and his father.

Or maybe, somehow deep in those pools of deep green intelligent eyes, hid the knowledge that Stoic was just as important to Hiccup as Toothless was, and without either he wouldn't be whole to the other. It was quite obvious in the way he was reacting to Toothless. Could he react the same way to his father if he was sick, or worse, dying?

The scary part was, he probably wouldn't. They were nowhere near as close as the bond he and Toothless had together. Sure, he'd cry, he'd feel all mopey for a while, but then he'd get right on with leading the village. Without Toothless, he was empty. Soul mates? Perhaps – Soul mates don't have to mean you find your one true love. You can find one, but not the other. It was rare that somebody did find both, and he should count himself lucky. He had Astrid and Toothless, love and Soul Mate.

Time, as it always does, healed them. Stoic started associating himself with the Terrors on the far side of the island, where nobody else could see him (except Astrid and co. because they needed something to laugh at behind bushes). They crawled on him, they purred around him, begged for fish… not once did they bite him or try to set him on fire. In fact, he had once seen two of them fight over a spot next to him! It was quite fascinating, really.

His son had won over, Valhalmara's death subduing in his mind. It was all a big misunderstanding, after all. Hiccup had been right all along. Oh, what a fool he had been! He wished he could tell him, but it could be months before they were whole again. He sighed with regret.

The healer told them that Toothless was going to be fine; he just needed to stay there, resting so his body can heal. Hiccup still refused to move from the house.

The two of them were going to get better.

Eventually.

Such a short chapter. They're on their way to healing! Review!