CHAPTER 9

Screams of pain and fear plagued Toothless' consciousness. He once again cowered in the smoke filled forests of Grimdel, watching the slaughter of his family. The elders of his clan snarled at him, their scarred faces twisted in fury and disgust.

'You can never trust a human. Those who are foolish enough to act upon this shall lead us and all dragonkind to its demise!'

At the entrance of the cave, his uncle's lifeless eyes bore into his. 'You are no longer one of us, traitor," he hissed. 'You wear the skin of a human, but you have the wings of a dragon. You are a disgrace, defying our laws, our very nature!'

Toothless looked down at himself and saw the pale hands of a human and felt his wings on his back. No matter how hard he tried, he could not change back into his dragon form. He was stuck, half human and half dragon. It frightened him terribly, but not as much as the look of reproach that his uncle gave him.

'I was a fool to believe in change. Now you have taken the enemy under your wing and such actions cannot be forgiven. Even now, your precious pet brings upon you your demise.'

Toothless tried to cover his ears to block out the words but to no avail, the ropes were too tight. Human tears ran down his face as his uncle looked away, green blood once again splashing onto the ground. All around him, shadows of Vikings stood, bearing down at him, brandishing their weapons, their eyes glowing red. One stepped forward as placed a heavy boot painfully on his leg, holding a sword high, a malicious grin plastered on his face.

"I have brought down this mighty beast!"

'No,' Toothless cried, flinging off the boot that was pressing painfully on his leg. The owner of said boot shouted out in exclamation and stumbled away. Toothless was breathing heavily, trying to shake off the remnants of his dream, his battered body protesting. Moss brushed his nose and he realized even without opening his eyes that he was in the forests of Berk. Rope still dug into his scales and the weight of the bola was pressed into his side.

Slowly he opened his eyes, the morning light too bright for his aching head, and locked onto his attacker a few feet away. He took in the shaking tip of a dagger and the shock of auburn hair. Wide green eyes stared into his own.

Fear once again gripped his heart.

Hiccup stared at him with a look torn between terror and awe before clutching the dagger tighter, and scowling. Uncertainty crossed his face as Toothless continued to stare almost pleadingly at him.

"Hiccup," he murmured, but the Viking couldn't understand him.

Hiccup took a deep breath and looked away from the dragon's eye, focusing on where he thought his heart lay. "I'm going to kill you dragon." He raised the dagger. "I'm—I'm going to cut out you heart and take it to my father. I am a Viking. I am a Viking!"

Toothless flinched ever so slightly, his fear taking hold. "No, no, you're not."

Hiccup held the dagger above his head and stared at the beast before him. Toothless raised his head off the ground to get one last look at his friend. He was at the mercy of a Viking, and Vikings showed no sympathy for dragons. His time was finished. He had failed to protect Hiccup from his own people and now he would die at the hands of the one he called friend.

He groaned one more time as Hiccup looked away and rested his head back on the ground. He closed his eyes.

So be it.

He waited for the stabbing pain. It never came, but the sounds of cutting rope did.

Toothless's eyes shot open as Hiccup sawed at the ropes, and he felt his legs slip free. A wave of relief flowed through him, but it was quickly swept away by something utterly alien.

Unbridled hatred coursed through the dragon from deep within him. His chest burned in the place of the amulet, and, before he could comprehend what was happening, Toothless had lunged at Hiccup, pinning him to the rocks behind him.

Hiccup gasped as the air was torn from his lungs as the Night Fury's claws dug into his chest. He lay frozen and breathless, staring fearfully into those large dilating pupils, ignorant to the battle that raged within. He was trapped, captivated by the deep emotion in those green-gage eyes, the intelligence in the eyes of his enemy, his killer. It was if they could see into his very soul.

He tried to move as the claws were pressed deeper into his tunic and he wondered how much harder the dragon would have to press to draw blood.

The dragon unfurled its obsidian wings and opened its great maw. Hiccup pressed himself further into the rock and waited for the fire that was yet to come. It reared up on its back legs and let out a deafening roar before leaping into the cover of the trees. It flew haphazardly into the morning fog, its roars growing further and further away.

Carefully, Hiccup pushed himself to his feet and took a deep breath. He'd shot down a Night Fury. Then he'd freed it…and he was still alive. Oh, the gods must love him now. With a light-headed laugh, and with every intention of heading back into the direction of the village, Hiccup fainted.

Toothless stared up at the Cove's steep walls, disgusted by the wave of fury that had almost driven him to do the unthinkable. His chest still ached where the amulet rested in his human form and he snorted angrily. How could he have thought those things? Hiccup was his friend and he was his guardian. Never in his life had he felt that much hatred towards anything and he was frightened. Those emotions did not belong to him. They couldn't belong to him, not after watching and looking after the Viking for so long. The amulet seemed to pulse at the thought. Toothless nodded to himself.

Well, at least after that, Hiccup wouldn't try to follow him deeper into the woods.

He winced in pain as he curled his tail around himself and he willed himself into a half human state, pushing away the fragments of his nightmare. Sighing, he limped painfully over to his hidden packs. He'd made a weatherproof and hidden cave for his supplies in the alcove when he had first landed on Berk. Inside he kept spare clothes, leather and medical supplies in his saddlebags. His everyday bag was back at the forge. He pulled out a medical pack and sat in the alcove, his half outstretched wings brushing the roof. He didn't keep this form often, but there was no other way to tend to his injuries.

Taking his tail in his hands, Toothless inspected the long gash in his left tail fin and let out a pent up breath. When he'd fled from Hiccup, he hadn't been able to take flight, and it wasn't because of his bruised wing. For a dreadful moment he had thought that he'd lost the entire tailfin and would never fly again. This, however, was fixable. He ran a hand along the long tear and hissed. The greenish blood had already dried, but it still felt like it had been dipped in fire.

Toothless reached into his bag and pulled out a long needle and thread. Threading the needle, he wiped the wound and got ready to work. As an afterthought, he rummaged through the bag and brought out an old dagger and jammed the hilt between his teeth before beginning the painful task of stitching the wound closed.

Fifteen minutes and one dagger hilt later, Toothless spat the remains of the dagger out and blinked back the tears that had sprung to his eyes. Shakily, he packed up his supplies and stood, willing his dragon form to disappear. He stumbled as the light headedness hit him and he looked up at the sun. It was midmorning. He swore, hurrying towards the entrance of the Cove.

He trudged through the forest, ignoring the pain in his head and arm. The village would have noticed his absence by now, he knew, and he didn't want them to question him about it. Toothless' vision swam and he leaned heavily against a tree, his head throbbing.

A loud growl emitted from behind him and he spun around to face a very disgruntled Deadly Nadder.

"Because this is just what I need right now," he muttered darkly.

The Nadder squawked loudly and snapped at him. Toothless ducked out of the way and ran faster through the forest. Something whistled over his head and a sharp spike embedded itself in a tree to his right. Toothless reached for his dagger and made to throw it but cried out in pain as a spike drew a deep line across his forearm. Blood welled instantly. Biting his lip, he swerved behind a large rock and pressed his back against it, panting.

An idea popped into his head as the Nadder squawked angrily again. Taking a deep breath, he willed his wings to appear and unfurled them slowly, almost gasping as he stretched the bruised muscle. The wings were visible from behind the rock, making him appear bigger than he really was. He let out a low and menacing growl, and felt the satisfaction when the Nadder let out a terrified squawk and flew away.

He returned to his human form and slid down the rock, wincing as he bumped his arm. He was too lightheaded and had no idea how far he was from the village. He sighed remorsefully. The odds were not in his favour today.

Hiccup frowned as he trudged into the forge, lost in thought. He almost jumped out of his skin when Gobber clapped him on the back.

"Where were ye this morning?"

"Uhh...n—nowhere, particular," he stammered. Gobber gave him a disbelieving looked but dropped the subject. Hiccup looked around. "Where's Nraseri?"

Gobber looked up sharply. "I thought he was with ye."

Hiccup shook his head. "I haven't seen him since the raid. Come to think of it, I didn't see him after in the crowds either."

The old blacksmith wore a troubled expression, and he put his head out of the forge window. "Astrid," he called, "Ye seen Nraseri around the village?"

Astrid shook her head and came over. "The last I saw of him he was heading for the east side of the village. Do you want me to find him?"

"That would be a good idea. Take Hiccup," Astrid looked apprehensively at him. "He knows his way around the forest better than anyone, and if Nraseri made his way into it, yer going to need him."

Any other time, Hiccup would be head over heels to go anywhere with Astrid, but right now, he was too worried about his friend to think about it. He followed Astrid towards the east buildings, worrying about Nraseri the whole way. Was he lost, injured? Dead? Anything could happen in those forests and, with the Night Fury on the loose, he feared greatly for his friend.

He almost walked into Astrid when she stopped and he blinked in surprise, looking around at the inner tree line. He hadn't realized that they were there already. Astrid stooped down and picked up a long sword. She showed it to Hiccup who took it gingerly. He fingered the strange design on the hilt, his heart clenching.

"It's Nraseri's. He had it with him last night. That means he's probably in there."

"Do you and Nraseri go into the forest often?" she asked.

Hiccup nodded and made his way in. "He disappears every morning and we go most afternoons."

"Any particular place he would have gone if he was in danger?"

Hiccup thought hard. "The Cove." Astrid frowned. "It's pretty deep in the forest, but it's possible that he could have headed there," he explained.

"Alright, Hiccup, lead the way."

They walked for about half an hour, barely saying a word. Astrid glanced at Hiccup from time to time, noticing the grim expression on his face. He clenched the sword in his left hand, which seemed rather strange to her. Wasn't Hiccup right handed? She remembered him fumbling with a sword years ago with his right hand, but brushed the thought away. He'd probably forgotten the basics of sword fighting by now.

She stopped as something brightly coloured caught her attention. A purple Deadly Nadder spine protruded from the bark, gouging deep into the wood. She touched the sap that oozed from the tree. It was soft. Claw marks tore up the ground. Hiccup looked at her upon noticing the same thing. Astrid readied her axe.

They followed the trail silently—well Astrid did, Hiccup seemed to step on every third twig, setting her teeth on edge. She was about ready to strangle him when he stumbled on something.

"Astrid," he said quietly. She turned and was slightly taken aback by the dark expression on his face. Hiccup wasn't fierce, everyone on Berk knew that, but the right now, holding a bloodied Nadder spine, Astrid almost stepped back. a shiver went down her spine. Hiccup's knuckles were white as he gripped the sword. He looked ready to attack.

"That doesn't mean anything," she said, surprise by the gentleness of his voice. She took the spine from him and sighed mentally when his expression softened. Hiccup nodded more to himself than to her and trudged on, quieter than before.

Hiccup cast his eyes down, following the small spots of red that dotted the trail, his mind clear. Nraseri's sword felt light in his hands, less awkward than before and he wondered if his lessons were paying off. He stopped when he noticed that the prints had disappeared and he looked around. Astrid picked her way around the trees and rocks, her hand following a long gouge in the wood as if the Nadder had spun around quickly.

Both their head shot up at the sound of movement from behind the large boulders and Hiccup edged around the side. A spine shot past his head and he raised the sword with speed he didn't know he had. The spine fell harmlessly to the ground and he raised the sword just in time to block the dagger aimed at his side. Without thinking, he flicked the sword and sent the dagger spinning through the air, where it planted itself blade-first in the ground.

He glared at his wild-eyed attacker, the point of the sword at his chest. Nraseri broke into a wide grin, relief evident on his face. "Oh thank Thor. I thought you were the Nadder!"

"Nraseri!" Hiccup dropped the sword and embraced his friend. He grabbed his arm, "You're injured."

"I hadn't noticed," he said sarcastically before waving tiredly at Astrid. She had picked up his dagger and handed it back to him.

"How'd you end up here?"

Nraseri chuckled nervously. "Got carried away chasing a Deadly Nadder and it led me back to its friends. Most running I've done in a long time." He brushed the hair out of his eyes and winced. Astrid inspected his arm, Hiccup peering over her shoulder worriedly. At least he was back to normal.

A long cut ran down Nraseri's forearm and blood trickled slowly from the wound. He'd cut strip of his tunic sleeve and wrapped it, but that wouldn't last long. They needed to get back to a healer to assess the real damage.

"We should get you to a healer. The village is about a half hour walk." The other two nodded and followed her through the brush. Hiccup steadied his friend, who looked a little pale and it took him a while to remember that he was still holding Nraseri's sword. He looked down at it and Nraseri laughed faintly.

"What?" he asked.

"A few days ago you were handling a sword with your right hand."

"So?"

Nraseri shook his head as if to rid himself of a thought. "You disarmed me with your left just now."

Hiccup looked down at his hand and realized that he was right. Handling the sword had been almost instinct and he barely felt any awkwardness his the weapon. In fact, it felt like an extension of his own arm. He smiled. Maybe things were finally looking up for him.

By the time they entered the village, the three of them were tired, their former adrenaline rush from the morning finally wearing off. Nraseri hadn't said much after his comment about the sword. He leaned somewhat heavily on Hiccup, his lips pressed tightly together and his face pale. Hiccup was rather worried. It occurred to him that maybe his friend was hiding more than just pain. Really, this was the first time he'd actually seen him this troubled. Every now and then Nraseri's hand would fly to his amulet around his neck as if afraid that it would disappear. Hiccup had never asked where he'd got it. It was probably a family treasure, which in itself, added to the plethora of mysteries involving his friend.

Astrid led them up the long and winding staircase to the healer's hut at the top of the Great Hall. Hiccup sighed in relief when they reached the last step and once again wondered why exactly the healer's hut would be so high up.

Gothi nodded to them and ushered them inside. He helped Nraseri into the nearest chair and stretched his aching muscles. His friend winced when the healer brought a torch over for some more light. Astrid left shortly after to tell Gobber that they had returned, leaving the three of them alone in the small room.

Gothi silently unwrapped Nraseri's sleeve and peered at the wound before turning to Hiccup for an explanation.

"Nadder spine, right?" He looked over to Nraseri who nodded wearily. Hiccup failed to notice that Nraseri didn't meet the healer's eye or the look the healer gave him. Instead, he watched as Gothi drew two sets of wavy lines in the sand with her staff.

"Water. Got it," Hiccup said and he made his way onto the terrace to collect rainwater from a large bucket.

Gothi peered into Nraseri's eyes for a second before pointing one gnarled finger at the amulet around his neck. She reached out and took it and he stiffened momentarily. He glared at her reproachfully as if daring her to do something, but she merely smiled and tapped his shoulder with the end of her staff. Hiccup came back a second later hauling a small bucket of water. He glanced down at the sand and huffed.

"Really, Gothi, as if I'd forget the bandages. I'm not Gobber—ouch!" He rubbed his head at the old healer's well-aimed blow, muttered something else under his breath, and swerved quickly out of the way of the staff. He heard Nraseri's soft snigger behind him and grabbed the bandages from a basket.

Gothi was already mixing a green paste in a bowl and he idly wondered what was in it. He turned to his friend. "How are you feeling?"

Nraseri prodded his arm and winced. "I've been better. What happened after the raid?"

Hiccup dreaded telling his friend of the Night Fury, fearing that he wouldn't believe him and ridicule him so he shrugged. "Not much, really. The raid was larger than the ones we usually get every few months but we got it under control. It's the first Night Fury sighting in a few years though. You probably heard it, there's no way you didn't." Nraseri nodded in confirmation and waited for him to say something else, as if he knew there was more. Hiccup sighed. "I also got chased by a Monstrous Nightmare and ended up knocking down one of the torches."

"How in the world did you knock down a torch?" Nraseri asked incredulously. He hissed momentarily when Gothi applied the salve to his arm. "Those things are taller than the houses!"

"Well it rolled into the harbour so I'm pretty sure I can add boat sinking in my list of disasters."

"What did your father say?" he asked.

Hiccup shrugged. "Nothing new. He was pretty angry that I left the forge though. Doesn't want me to break anything I'll bet."

Hiccup saw Nraseri tense slightly when Gothi pulled the bandage tight and he once again thought that his friend was hiding something else. The old healer shuffled over to the sand again and Hiccup peered closely at her pictures.

"She says to say off your arm for about a week. That means no forge work," he translated and Nraseri groaned. "Also, not to strain yourself. Basically, go rest, it'll get rid of the headache." The last part surprised him. Nraseri hadn't said anything about a headache. Hiccup then remembered how Nraseri had winced at the torch light.

Nraseri stood and thanked the healer and Hiccup could not shake the feeling that there was more meaning behind his words. He helped him down the long flight of stairs and led him to the forge. Gobber was relieved to see them and immediately sent a protesting Nraseri off to bed.

Stifling a yawn, Hiccup made his way to his house, ignoring some of the glares that he received from the villagers. He opened his door, letting in a slight breeze that disturbed the main fire. He jumped slightly when he saw his father poking the flames of the fire, his back to the door. Not wanting to talk to his father, he quietly padded towards the stairs. He was halfway up the when his father stopped him.

"Hiccup," he said almost gravely.

"Dad!" Hiccup exclaimed awkwardly. He cursed the gods and stopped his ascent to his room. He debated dashing up the last few steps but cast the thought aside. He'd have to tell him sooner or later. "Uhh, I have to talk to you, Dad."

His father stood and clasped his hands solemnly in front of him. "I need to speak with you too, son."

They both took a deep breath and said:

"I've decided that I don't want to fight dragons."

"I think it's time you learn to fight dragons."

Father and son both looked at each other, confused. "What?"

Stoick gestured for him to speak, "You go first."

Hiccup took a couple steps down the stairs. "No, no, you go first."

"Alright," Stoick began, and from the way he was rubbing his knuckles, Hiccup could have sworn that he was nervous about something, but chiefs didn't get nervous and certainly not his father. "You get your wish," Stoick said, "Dragon training." He stood a little taller as if the situation could be handled with height. "You start in the morning."

"Oh man. I should have gone first." To think that after all this time his father would choose now to change his mind. How could he get out of this one? "Uh, cause I was thinking... you know… we have a surplus of dragon fighting Vikings but do we have enough…bread making Vikings?" At this point, Hiccup wanted to smack himself in the head. Bread making? "Or small home repair Vikings." Really? Things couldn't get any worse.

And then it did.

Stoick handed him a large axe and he lurched under its weight. "You'll need this."

"I don't want to fight dragons."

His father let out a bellowing laugh. "Come on, yes you do."

"Rephrase. Dad, I can't kill dragons."

"But you will kill dragons," his father said eagerly. Hiccup saw a pair of large green eyes in the back of his mind. How they pleaded with him and gave into fate.

"No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't," he tried to say without dropping the awkwardly long axe in his hands.

His father turned to him. "It's time, Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?"

"This is serious, son," Stoick argued. He took the axe from Hiccup in one hand. "When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you." He gave it back and Hiccup struggled to hold it straight. The blade thunked lightly on the floor and Stoick lifted it for him. "Which means you walk like us, you talk like us," He straightened Hiccup's shoulders slightly. "You think like us. No more of," he gestured to his son, "this."

Hiccup's heart fell slightly. "You just gestured to all of me."

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one sided," he tried again.

"Deal?"

Hiccup sighed and dropped the unbalanced axe, rolling his eyes. There was no point in arguing with him. "Deal."

Stoick grabbed a large basket and threw it over his back. "Good." He put his helmet on his head. "Train hard. I'll be back, probably." He said the last part as an afterthought. It was really up to the Norns whether he returned or not. With the raids and the other tribes unsettled, there was no telling how the 'Thing' would go down. (The 'Thing' was the annual gathering of the Viking leaders.)

"And I'll be here." Hiccup watched his father leave. "Maybe."

Haha please don't kill me!

I apologize for the cliffhanger, really, I do.

I had a dear friend of mine threaten me if I didn't update, so I thought I'd make you guys happy and post the chapter (as well as leave the university campus with all my limbs intact).

The reason for such a wait was not because I hadn't written the chapter, but because I wrote most of this fic months ago, and my writing style has changed since then. I needed to go through and heavily edit the chapter and the ones after as well before I felt that they were ready to be posted.

Anyway, I'm editing the next chapter as we speak, so hopefully it'll be up soon.

As for my other fic, don't worry, guys, I'm working on it :)

Review! Let me know what you think of the chapter and what you think is going to happen when dragon training rolls around.

Until next time,

Roan Walker out!