To answer what I would say is a very reasonable question from the guest Mariah, Hiccup doesn't kill Snotlout because: 1. He wants to stay quiet and hide his abilities, and killing Snotlout would make a big fuss. 2. Snotlout comes in groups of 3 or 4 people, Hiccup is skilled, but he's not perfect.

Chapter 10: Revising the Plan

Hiccup absentmindedly doodled on a piece of parchment while he pretended to listen to Gobber. All six of the teens were crammed into the backroom of the smithy, listening to Gobber lecture them about each dragon in the dragon manual. This had been going on for the last two hours, and none of the teens, not even Fishlegs, were focused anymore.

This unusual extra lesson was because of, as Gobber had so delicately put it, their "pathetic excuse fer teamwork in the last session." Currently, Snotlout was attempting to prop his eyes open and the twins had pushed their desks together to play chess on a tiny board they had snuck in. Even Astrid and Fishlegs, the two teens who would be expected to pay attention, barely seemed awake. Ever oblivious, Gobber droned on. No matter how well he trained in the arena, his lectures were amazingly dull.

"An' the Thunderdrum, well, that's just a hell of a dragon, eh? I remember back when Stoick an' I were wee lads, an' a Thunderdrum went berserk right in the middle of the village. Well, ye see…"

Hiccup attempted to tune Gobber out, and tried to think on his newest problem.

"Toothless! I'm glad you came back!" Hiccup exclaimed. He walked forward as the dragon came out of the darkness of the cave. He went to put his hand on its snout, but it bounded forward and licked Hiccup's face, leaving a gooey mess of slime.

Hiccup was disgusted but still laughed. A few minutes after―with various attempts at completely getting the saliva off―Hiccup really took time to look at his dragon friend.

The tail was crooked, moving unnaturally, and the cover he had made for it to stay in place was nearly torn to shreds already. His heart dropped like a stone.

"Oh gods―Toothless, when did this happen? Are you alright?" Hiccup hurried over and examined the tail, and although he felt like an idiot for trying to talk to to Toothless, he hoped his message had gotten across. The dragon just wiggled its tail in what seemed to be discomfort. Hiccup helped him slide it off, and quickly went to work seeing if everything worked properly.

Little things here and there were out of place, but the majority of the tail seemed to work as it was made to. Eventually, Hiccup concluded that it was the fault of the sleeve he had made to keep the tail on. It was imperfect, but it was the best thing he had been able to create. Now, he would have to make something even better.

Hiccup sighed in annoyance. It had been hard enough to make the covering, but now that it had gone south, he needed to find a foolproof method to connect the tail.

"An' of course, kill it on sight. Go for the eyes, the tails, the wings―a downed dragon is a dead dragon, y'know." Gobber's voice brightened noticeably when talking about killing dragons. Then, unfortunately for the teens, his voice dulled once again. "Next, of course, is the Monstrous Nightmare…"

Hiccup scribbled out his latest sketch, this one attempting to tether the tail to the legs and have Toothless control it remotely. His eye twitched from a combination of lack of sleep and annoyance. He leaned back and groaned. Draped over the back of his chair, he turned his head just in time to watch Tuffnut checkmate his sister. Hiccup caught his eye, and Tuffnut grinned in an annoyingly gleeful way that only he could.

Hiccup laughed silently and smiled back, then hunched back over his journal. After straining his mind for a full morning, he was drained. He dropped his pencil and sighed, then looked forward at Gobber lecturing away at the front of the room. Hiccup's face dropped in boredom.

To be fair, it hadn't been a completely fruitless morning. Gobber had had to drag most of the teens out of their beds before the sun had risen. Fortunately, Hiccup had already been in the smithy at this time. After a sleepless night, Hiccup always found solace in the sawdust-ridden, metal-smelling building, and that was exactly what had happened. In result, he had finished his creation (which, upon completion, he had named a crossbow). It could be loaded and prepared long before firing its arrow. The two finished products were laying behind him in his bag.

"An' finally, the Night Fury. We don' know damned Odin's arse worth of anything on this beast, but if ye ever find yerselves against it, Thor bless yer charred little remains. Anyway, that's the end of the book. I hope ye learned something that'll make ye less pathetic in the ring, eh? We're back to training in a few days." Gobber yawned, then walked out the door into the smithy's front room. The teens all shook themselves out of their collective stupor, then got up to leave.

Astrid left first―cold like the Berk air. Ever since their fight in the cove, he hadn't heard her say a single word, other than clipped answers to questions directed at her. It felt somewhat eerie, but it was a welcome change from the unending pestering she had been bothering him with these past few days.

Hiccup moved to walk out next, but Snotlout interrupted his path, elbowing him in the ribs. Hiccup winced and fell against the wall, and Snotlout sneered. He walked out as well.

"You feeling alright Hiccup?" Ventured Fishlegs. He and the twins approached him, and Hiccup stood up as straight as he could.

"I'm fine, it's nothing unusual."

"It does seem a bit unusual, though." Said Ruffnut, with her hands on her hips. "You're kinda scrawny, but in the ring you've been much more impressive than you used to be. Just a little tap like that shouldn't have sent you against the wall."

Hiccup was surprised―he hadn't realized that the other students had been observing him this entire time. Fishlegs and Tuffnut nodded in agreement with her, and Hiccup silently chuckled. "It's fine guys, I've just had some tough times. I got roughed up a bit somewhere, and I'm feeling tired. It's nothing to worry about."

"Was the rough treatment from Snotlout as well?"

Hiccup turned his head towards Tuffnut in surprise, and the blond trickster nodded―his face completely devoid of any smile. "You're not the only one who's had problems with Snotlout in the past, Hiccup."

Hiccup looked at the three teens, then finally caved. "You're right, it was him. I never knew he did it to you three, though…"

"Well, not me" sniffed Ruffnut. "He's too careful for something like that. He wants his reputation to stay stainless with the ladies." She raised her eyebrow in a meaningful way, and Hiccup chuckled.

"But for the rest of us, he doesn't care. It's just hard to stand up against him, since the Jorgenson family is the largest on the island." whispered Fishlegs. "We never even would've thought he was antagonizing you as well. Is that why you're always going into the forest around midday?"

Hiccup stayed silent for a bit, then answered, "that's part of it―I train as well." He was apprehensive speaking about where he went during the day, but the three of them didn't press him.

They talked, but the topic of their conversation was slowly lost. After a while, they all went their own directions; Fishlegs went to explore Gothi's small library, Ruffnut left to halfheartedly finish her morning chores, and Tuffnut stayed behind a bit longer. Between the four of them, there was a new camaraderie that hadn't existed before―and a newfound collective hatred for Snotlout. It was a comforting thought.

"Hiccup, you said that escaping Snotlout is 'part of it,' but what else is there? I can't help but think that there's more to your story." Tuffnut said in a quiet voice once the other two had left. Hiccup turned to him and put a quizzical face on.

"Well, like I said, I train. And you know how I make strange things in the smithy, so―"

"Hiccup, come on." Tuffnut interrupted him, startling Hiccup just the tiniest bit. "You can't tell me that that's all it is. You've fought better than Astrid these past few weeks in the ring, and from what I can tell, Astrid hasn't even spent enough time near you for it to count as any training." He frowned a bit at Hiccup, then continued, "You may be the smartest Viking on this island, Hiccup, but I'm smart too. I can tell that you don't trust me." Tuffnut walked toward the door, Hiccup following a ways behind. "I won't pry, but I am curious. Tell me sometime, won't you?"

Hiccup opened his mouth to say something, but Tuffnut was already gone. It was strange for him, seeing a side of Tuffnut that wasn't his usual goofy, prank-playing self. Hiccup even felt a bit threatened by Tuffnut's gaze―seeming to see right through Hiccup's lies.

Walking through the door, Hiccup yawned a wide, toothy yawn. With his lack of sleep, he hoped he would get the chance to do anything productive. Nearly stumbling over his own feet, he began to make his way to the cove.

Acting like an excited pet, Toothless practically jumped on Hiccup when he returned to the cove. Hiccup wasn't sure if it was legitimate affection, if the dragon was simply revitalized after the chance to fly again, or even if it was simply well fed after its day out. Whatever the reason, however, it was a welcome change from the normally suffocating intensity of Viking life. Even Hiccup's exhaustion couldn't dampen Toothless's happiness.

After greeting Toothless, Hiccup walked off to the front of his cave―where he had left the newly re-broken tail. Looking it over, there was nearly nothing wrong with the tail itself, it simply hadn't been able to stay attached through all the stresses of flying. Hiccup was not amused, but he was still impressed, in a way. His invention had worked―or, the design he had stolen from his own alter brain had worked. Hiccup thought on this for a second, then shrugged and smirked. "Semantics."

Ironically, Hiccup was having complicated second thoughts. In the beginning, he had approached the dragon out of curiosity and the hope that he could meet another creature with the same intelligence as him. After that, he had begun to plot, weaving one of the most feared dragons in the surrounding islands into his plan to overturn Berk.

But he had spent time with the dragon, gotten to know it as a friend and an equal. It would be unethical, not to mention underhanded, to drag the dragon into an internal fight of his own. He had created the tail, and set the dragon free―and they had gone their own separate ways.

Except that wasn't the end of it. Toothless had come back, energized and thrilled to see Hiccup. It was a thought that Hiccup had come to consider: what if Toothless now considered the cove his home? What if he kept coming back, even if the tail wasn't broken? He thought on it, and if that was true, then what about his plan to overthrow Berk? If Toothless was both Hiccup's friend and a resident of Berk (albeit an unknown and unwelcome one), would he fight with Hiccup?

He shook his head. It wasn't productive to let his mind rest on unanswerable questions―he had work to do. He yawned widely before beginning the procedure of disassembling the tail―half-awake was a terrible state to be in while working with machinery, but he pushed through. Toothless watched curiously, and Hiccup took the dragon's mechanical tail apart, taking the greatest care not to tear the muscle left inside.

It may have been tedious, but Hiccup found solace in it. Machinery always had a calming effect―whether it was the tail, the crossbow, or one of the multiple other ideas that he had compiled while rebuilding the tail. Pieces went where they were supposed to, each piece had a specific, unique role, and no piece went unused. He could remove himself from the real world―where people roamed the earth like a maggot-infested fruit, trying to find the place they belonged.

His thoughts dwelled in darker places as he calmly took inventory of which pieces seemed to have worked, and which needed replacing or redesigning. To his surprise, most of the tail seemed to have worked perfectly―his pride was misplaced, since he hadn't personally come up with the design, but he felt pride regardless. He laid out on a sun-warmed rock, picked up his journal and his crude pencil, and began amending his blueprints.

After an hour of sketching, Hiccup felt drained. He had barely eaten anything since morning, and he hadn't slept well to begin with. Nevertheless, that hour had been all he had needed to finish revising his sketches―although making some new pieces for the tail would undoubtedly take a bit longer. He stood up and scratched Toothless's head. It was a lovely Berk afternoon, albeit a bit cold. Any other day, he would've stayed in the cove, perhaps explored the area around it with Toothless, but not today. Gobber had threatened to ban Hiccup from the smithy if he didn't help sharpening the weapons and tuning up the tools. In Gobber's words: "It's an apprenticeship for a reason―ye' don' jus' allow yerself to come in and out as ye' please."

Therefore, Hiccup left. Toothless seemed disappointed to see his friend go, but he settled down in the midday sunlight and rested. Without a functional tail once again, he was stuck in the same predicament as he had been just a few days prior.

The rest of the day was uneventful and boring for Hiccup. He spent his time in the smithy, hammering away at pieces of metal. He made small talk with Gobber and spoke briefly with Gobber's only other apprentice that hadn't left on the hunt for nest (a tight-lipped woman who seemed to dislike Hiccup for no reason). It wasn't a bad way to spend the day―in fact, there were times that it would be a nearly perfect day―but if he had no chance to work on any of his projects (the tail or his own personal interests), then it was rather dull. Not to mention his head, with a throbbing headache. He blamed the lack of food and sleep.

The day ended eventfully, although Hiccup decided not to be part of the revelries. One of the Jorgenson children was having a birthday celebration, and Snotlout was one of the centermost figures in the crowd. Hiccup decided not to throw himself into the jaws of the beast, and instead walked up the path to his house.

Approaching it, he noted the orange glow slipping underneath the door―the fire was lit inside. It was still a rather unsettling thought that Astrid's personality had changed from an outgoing (albeit aloof) training princess to a cold, angry shut-in who barely spoke. As far as he knew from what he had heard, Astrid had almost completely withdrawn herself from social activities and dedicated herself to her training. While it was a disturbing thought that he could've been the reason for her abrupt change, he didn't have the energy to think on it. He walked in the door and ruffled through the pantry for something to eat.

Astrid sat at the table, but her eyes were cold and uncaring. She barely even seemed to recognize that Hiccup had entered the house. She simply kept sharpening her axe, and although it seemed to be plenty sharpened, it was sharpened more and more. The firelight reflected off of it, shining on the walls and the floor. The light illuminated the carved eyes on the wall from when Hiccup had been possessed. He had scratched most of them out, but some remained, like an ever-watchful god, judging their impurities.

Hiccup turned away from the pantry, finding nothing he particularly felt interest in. After a full day of work, for some reason, he still didn't have much of an appetite. He glanced at his housemate for a moment, then nearly had the breath knocked out of him from the pressure that he felt. When he locked eyes with her, he saw a pure, undiluted anger―and he felt a connection, not because he hated her, but because he also felt the same way towards others, like Snotlout and his father. Something deep inside both of them twitched uncomfortably, and they looked away. But the connection lingered just a moment longer.

Hiccup left to go to sleep for the night. He was exhausted, but his eyes seemed to be glued open―he read a herbology manual for a while, then laid down to rest.

It was one in the morning. He decided to visit the smithy to calm his restless mind―he had gotten some sleep, but it had been erratic, and almost as tiring as staying awake. He left his house―the embers of the fire glowing orange as he walked by―and gulped down a breath of crisp, cold air.

Walking back down the mountain, he passed the Great Hall. It was the dead of night, but the Vikings of Berk (those who were still on the island, at least) seemed to never sleep. The celebration from earlier was still ongoing―in fact, it seemed as if it hadn't even hit its peak yet. Even through the haze of exhaustion, Hiccup chuckled to see drunken men and women singing together, some half-drunk Jorgenson's betting articles of clothing in a game of poker, and Tuffnut sitting outside the hall beating what looked like his third victim in chess. Tuffnut waved, and Hiccup waved back.

Another thing he was not too tired to witness was Snotlout, sauntering away from the partying hand-in-hand with a pair of women. The black-haired boy's gall was impressively large, Hiccup had to admit. Demanding that he stay away from Astrid while simultaneously spending nights with various women―without even attempting to hide it. Hiccup was unamused at his hypocrisy, and his ribs ached in assent.

As he walked towards the smithy, the sound of revelries faded into the distance. He felt slightly disappointed, as he always did. The massive celebrations that would last all night were a Viking tradition, and Hiccup found it massively difficult to enjoy them like anyone else seemed to. Even when he took the time to attend these parties, he left quickly and unexpectedly. This was only one reason he found it difficult to connect to people in the village, but when you added that to all the other things that made him the antithesis of a Viking, one could see the issue.

Arriving at the smithy, Hiccup yawned so wide that a bit of drool leaked out of his mouth. He wiped it away and sat down at one of the tables; he put one hand on his head to soothe his pounding headache, and used the other to pull some papers towards him. He began sketching an idea he had imagined while disassembling the tail: armor that―instead of fitting someone's form exactly―left extra space for wool, sponge, or another impact-reducing material. It was only one of his many recent ideas, but it was the most thought-out idea so far, and he needed something to occupy his mind with.

A gaggle of Jorgensons passed the front of the smithy, paying attention to nothing but themselves. Any other time, they would not have bothered Hiccup, but today (or tonight, as it were) they seemed to hammer at his head with their noise. He knew it wasn't purposeful, but he gripped the edge of the table and gritted his teeth, holding himself back from running out and hurting them. Every word, every burst of laughter seemed to be broadcasted straight into his skull; a mallet striking his aching head.

Hours passed. At times, he nearly drifted off; others, his eyes felt like they burned when they weren't open. He didn't feel well, but at the same time, he felt numb to his discomfort. As the sun rose, Hiccup finished a drawing and placed it on the top of an impressively large pile of paper―some crumpled, some not.

Gobber walked out of the neighboring house. He never seemed to have a consistent place of residency―whether it be the back room of the smithy, the neighboring house, or the Great Hall (where Gobber could often be found after a long night of drinking). He walked past and, seeing Hiccup inside, poked his head in.

"A bit early for any of yer projects, innit? Ye kids need yer sleep, now, and ye aren' looking yer best."

Hiccup raised his eyebrows in exhaustion and replied, "I had another bad night, Gobber. I'll make sure to get caught up."

"If ye say so. I hope yer daddy comes back soon―I need my beauty rest, and waking up early to be Chief is hard as all hell." Gobber walked off to do his duties, and Hiccup stood up to leave as well. He shuffled through the pile of paper and picked out the best sketches, then shredded the rest. He folded the keepers into small squares, placed them in an inner pocket, and left the smithy.

It was midday, and Hiccup felt just as bad as he had in the morning. He was hungry, but had no appetite. He was exhausted, but didn't feel tired. He felt like a wreck, and the sunlight beat down on him.

He walked down to the harbor―Johann hadn't arrived at the island yet, but on the route he had been traveling on he would likely arrive in the next day or two. The harbor stunk of fish and ocean, but he stayed for awhile anyway. The stench helped wake him up, and he bought a fish off of one of the fishermen. He'd roast it later―he knew he'd need to eat something soon. Otherwise, his body might begin to shut down.

Leaving the harbor, he walked up the wooden ramp to the village. His arms were shaking with fatigue, even though he hadn't done anything strenuous. He felt drained.

He looked forward and saw the absolute last person he wanted to run into: Snotlout. There were people around, so he wouldn't attempt to injure Hiccup as he often liked to, but Hiccup still felt nervous. He wouldn't survive a confrontation with Snotlout in his current state―tired and weak. He hated the feeling, but it was a reality he couldn't shake off in the moment. He ducked his head down and hoped Snotlout wouldn't notice him.

As he walked past Snotlout, the larger boy shouldered past roughly with an "out of my way, runt!" It was a stroke of fortune, if he had to be honest. If Snotlout had noticed him―

He had celebrated too soon.

A meaty hand grabbed the back of his vest, pulling Hiccup backwards. He swiveled around and nearly fell over, only to come face-to-face with his rival for the chief's position, Snotlout. "Oh hey, runt," He drawled, "how are you?"

Hiccup looked around anxiously. To outside eyes, it would look like two dragon-training students talking―and Vikings didn't think highly of those who called out for help. He was safe from a certain amount of brutality, but he still didn't feel safe.

"Hello, Snotlout. Lovely day, isn't it?" Hiccup wanted to keep the conversation short, and to leave quick. He was already edging his way up the ramp, but Snotlout put his arm over Hiccup's shoulders.

"It's a lovely day, my dear cousin." Hiccup's eyebrows moved together at the 'cousin,' but it could be vaguely accurate. They were related, but certainly not that closely. Regardless, Snotlout barreled on. "I can't help but notice how you tried to slip past me just now―I hope there's nothing wrong, is there?"

Hiccup forced out a laugh. "Oh no, I'm just tired. I have somewhere to be, though…"

Snotlout laughed as well, and it was just as forced as Hiccup's. "Ah, sorry for interrupting your day, cousin. I'll be off, and let you go about your day." Snotlout slapped Hiccup's back with unnecessary force, then stepped forward and sneakily jabbed a knuckle into his ribs, in the exact place he had beaten upon two days prior. Snotlout started to walk off, then looked back smugly. Hiccup, breathing heavily and almost falling to his knees, looked up and met Snotlout's eyes.

And inside, something snapped.

Snotlout laughed and walked away, and Hiccup nearly threw a knife at his head. He had plenty in his vest. A cold, dead anger filled his head, and he barely knew what was going on around him. He held himself back, however, and limped up the pathway. It was past midday by this point, and Hiccup wanted nothing more than to get away. Not caring whether people were watching or not, he ran into the woods and barreled through the brush.

After a bit of mindless running, Hiccup calmed down. Everywhere he looked, he felt eyes watching him. He couldn't see anyone following him, and he heard nothing―not the wind in the trees or even his footsteps―but he felt as if he were being watched. His breathing became thick, and the world began to swing around him.

Hours passed, and Hiccup wandered through the forest, attempting to shake the feeling that he was being watched. He felt it wherever he walked; nowhere seemed to be safe. His eyes burned, looking bloodshot and strained. A foul taste pervaded his mouth, and he spat a glob of saliva onto the ground.

Hiccup's stomach growled, and he looked longingly at the fish he had bought―it had only been a few hours ago, but it felt like ages. He had planned to cook the fish, but by now it felt like a pointless interest. He bit into the stomach, then swallowed―barely chewing, not even spitting out the bones. It was disgusting by any standard, but after nearly two days of minimal eating, the disgust was a mere whimper in the back of his mind.

He bit into the fish again, then once more. The dizzy, nauseating feeling had begun to fade, but with that absence the feeling of being watched only grew stronger. He looked around, but even now that his sanity seemed to be regained, he saw nothing. He dismissed it as nerves―two nights without sleep did terrible things to people.

The sun was beginning to hang low in the sky, but Hiccup decided to move onwards to the cove. After the exhaustion from the last two nights, he might as well take as much time as he could to work on the reconstruction of the tail. Remaking whatever gears and rods needed replacing would be a hassle at his own forge, but it wasn't impossible. He recognized the area of the forest he was in; it would be only ten minutes at most before he arrived at the cove.

A crunch reverberated through Hiccup's jaw, sounding like a pile of dried leaves late in the year. He jumped in surprise, and his eyes moved to look down―even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see his own mouth. Instead, he saw his hand holding half of the fish's head. He spat, and the other half fell to the ground. He was more confused than disgusted―how had he not even realized that he was still eating the fish? The scaly tail, the bones, the innards―all of it was gone, aside from the head. "I really must be going crazy."

Finally, he arrived at the cove.

Toothless jumped at the chance to greet Hiccup, but then rooted into the dirt. He smelled the strain on the human―a smell consisting of sweat and a grimy adrenaline. If he was to barrel into Hiccup like he had the day before, he might injure the poor boy. Instead, he settled for getting his head scratched.

He went to work. After twenty minutes of pumping the bellows, ten minutes of isolating exactly which pieces needed to be remade, and five minutes of collecting the necessary metals to create them, he begun. With his forge-suit on, he looked like a madman―a bipedal, scale-ridden beast, creating miniscule machines to recreate a dragon's tail. Any self-respecting Viking would consider themselves proud to kill him, then present his corpse to one of the various shrines on the island―appeasing any of the war-savvy gods, like Thor or Tyr.

He worked until the sun went down, and the star-sown dome of the sky covered Berk. Fitting, re-fitting, and then testing to make sure it was correct. While he was immersed in his work, he barely felt the weighty fatigue of the past few days―but when he stepped away, it fell back upon his shoulders. While he worked, the village, Astrid, his father―all of it was far away from him, and they could not bother him. When he worked, it was simply him and his machines. And Toothless.

It was far later into the night than he had planned to work, or had ever worked before. It was near midnight at least, possibly past three. The light from the forge sent long shadows across the cove, and Toothless slept fitfully through the moving light and hammering metal. A long silence finally fell upon the cove, and Hiccup walked into the darkness to insert the last piece of the tail. Finally, it was finished once again.

He didn't have a concrete idea of how to connect the tail (with his previous idea turning out to be terrible for a long-term fix). That, however, did not matter in the moment. Instead, Hiccup turned to see two wide, friendly eyes staring at him from the darkness. Hiccup reached his hand out to scratch Toothless's head and smiled when the dragon pushed his head into the boy's hand. Even when they couldn't communicate, and had been brought together by twisted and mistaken circumstances, he was glad to have someone by his side.

"I'll try and find a new way to fit the tail, Toothless. For now, get some sleep."

The quiet air seemed to amplify every word he whispered. Toothless whined in approval, then licked Hiccup's hand. In retaliation, Hiccup wiped the saliva on the dragon's snout. Hiccup left soon after he extinguished the forge, leaving his friend to rest quietly.

The village was quiet, and the watchtowers were lit. It was a peaceful night, and while everyone knew that the dragons wouldn't attack for at least another two weeks, rules were rules―the village watch stayed alert.

He snuck through the darkness and arrived at his house. Based on the shoes at the door, Astrid had been training in the woods for a long period of time. Based on the sharpness of her axe leaning on the table, Astrid had spent another hour or so sharpening her prized weapon. She would be asleep at this hour, but the fact that he had arrived home so late would go unnoticed by her. Hiccup didn't care. He slogged up the stairs and fell onto his bed. He rested.

But he still could not sleep.

A Gronkle slammed its head into a barricade, sending Fishlegs flying. It swiveled in the air like a bumblebee, then began to fly lopsidedly into the wall as the remaining five teens made a loud, raucous noise with their shields.

The twins slipped underneath its sights and hid―close enough to Gobber that they would be safe from a direct assault, but far enough away that Gobber himself hadn't noticed. Astrid edged to the side and hid behind another barricade―this one safer than the one Fishlegs had thrown himself behind. Hiccup kept hitting his shield, circling the Gronkle. Snotlout copied Hiccup, but a few feet behind him, with his unsportsmanly intent blatantly obvious to all.

The Gronkle charged at Hiccup and Snotlout, and in return, they both dodged. Or―more accurately―Snotlout dodged, Hiccup fell-jumped to the side in a way that could be described as a dodge. The two of them ran from the beast, and it chased them around the arena. As soon as Gobber's view seemed to be blocked, Snotlout roughly shoved Hiccup into the wall.

Any other day, Hiccup could've dodged the assault. Today, he was tired, hungry, and barely able to stand on his own feet. He slammed into the wall and―as Snotlout ran farther from the dragon―the Gronkle attacked the easier target. Hiccup put his left arm up to protect himself, but he knew it would be an ineffective defense. His right arm, consequently, was in his vest, gripping the eel-skin handle of his newest knife.

He never had the chance to use it. As the Dragon bit down on his arm, three things happened simultaneously. Firstly, Gobber, in a frightening surge of strength he usually saved during the actual raids, leapt forward and hooked the Gronkle's tail, pulling it backwards. Secondly, Astrid―with the same silent fury as the past few days―threw her axe into the neck of the beast, loosening its grip on Hiccup's arm. Thirdly (and most unexpectedly), Tuffnut ran, slid underneath the Gronkle on the slick arena ground, and stabbed upwards with his spear into one of the few weak spots of the Gronkle, a chink in the armor where its neck met its stomach. The spear sunk to its handle, and the Gronkle fell to the ground underneath the barrage of attacks that it had just received.

Hiccup, breathing heavily, stared at the half-dead body of the Gronkle in front of him as Gobber rushed towards him. He looked around, then the blacksmith barked orders at the other students. "Astrid, get Gothi! Fishlegs, get a cot ready in the smithy! Ruffnut, Tuffnut, help me lift Hiccup!" Gobber, even in unexpected situations, was like the eye of a typhoon, an unmovable iron stake in the ocean. "Snotlout, don' you dare move an inch―I'm watchin' ye!

Hiccup looked down―his arm was clearly mangled, but he had seen worse. It was punctured in multiple places―thick, oozing punctures from the Gronkle's teeth. He looked up at Gobber through a haze of pain and half-consciousness. The old man noticed, and smiled a lopsided smile with significantly less teeth than a regular smile. "You'll be fine, Hiccup. Gothi's healed worse than this. Sleep, lad." Gobber put his good hand on Hiccup's head, and his body relaxed for the first time in three days.

Something endless and shapeless moved.

Hungry.

It tried to eat, but there was nothing but dirt and roots in this dark prison.

I'm hungry.

It gnawed at the walls of its prison eternally, trying to find the end to an endless cage.

So, so, so hungry.

Hungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungry―

Hiccup jerked awake with a ringing sound in his ear and something in his mouth―an iron taste pervading every crevice of his mouth. He looked down, and saw the blood rushing out of his bandaged arm. It was scratched and ripped where it bled. With a wrenching feeling in his gut, he spat.

A raw, dark red chunk of meat hit the ground with a wet squelch. It was obviously part of his arm. He fumbled his way out of the bed, hitting the floor with a heavy thump, and retched. In a strangely rational part of his mind, he recognized the wood grain of his floor.

He heard the thumping of footsteps, and in a moment of panic, grabbed the chunk of his arm that he had spat out. He threw it underneath his bed and attempted to cover up the gash he had created in his own arm. Suddenly, Gobber, Tuffnut, and Tori Ingerman barged into his room all at once, all yelling and making such a fuss that he couldn't understand what they were trying to say.

Tuffnut regained his composure first. He stopped, took a deep breath, and grinned at Hiccup―even though he could undoubtedly see the blood dripping from his friend's arm. Tori stopped yelling by then as well, and shut Gobber up with a quick punch to his shoulder. The three of them looked down at the chief's son―haggard, skinny, and blood dripping from his bandaged arm.

The next hour flew by in a daze for Hiccup. According to Gobber and Tuffnut, Snotlout had been punished with 24 hours tied to a tree―without food or sleep. It was an unusual and overall humiliating punishment, but with Gobber as both pseudo-chief and the teens's teacher, no one could argue with him. Unfortunately (or to some extent fortunately), Hiccup had slept nearly 20 hours, and thus missed most of the larger boy's disciplining. His catching up on his sleep would no doubt explain why he felt so refreshed, although the news of Snotlout's punishment certainly played into it as well.

While he was hearing the stories of the day before, Tori had been resetting his bandages. There was no shortage of grumbling, as she couldn't believe he had broken through "some of the thickest, stoutest bandages on the island," but she did it regardless. Because of this, he had the chance to see the wounds that Gothi had treated the day before―they were gruesome, but his arm was in one piece. As she began to put the final touches, Gobber left to tend to the village. Tuffnut seemed like he was about to leave, but Hiccup gestured for him to stay―making a flimsy excuse about replaying their game of chess. He stayed, making small talk with him and the healer, setting up a board. Eventually, Tori left as well―although not before threatening him with extreme bodily damage, should he rip his bandages again.

Hiccup laughed lightly and assented. Appeased, Tori left.

Turning to the chessboard, all traces of flippant happiness drained off of his face, leaving only a grim fear. Tuffnut, seeing this, leaned forward. "Hiccup, what's wrong? Is it Snotlout?"

"I couldn't care less about him. Something bigger is inside me, and I can't stop it. I...I'm scared that it'll eat me, Tuff."

The blond teen put crumpled his forehead as his eyebrows moved together. "Eat you? Unless you're dealing with a horde of dragons―"

"No, Tuff. It's something big. I don't know what it was, but I saw it while I was asleep. It's the reason I bit a chunk out of my arm, it's the reason I didn't sleep or eat for days...I can't do anything about it."

"Wha-" Tuffnut's eyes widened and he leaned back, trying to process this new wave of information. "Wait. You did that to your arm? You bit through the bandages? How- no, what―?"

"Tuffnut, listen." Hiccup looked him right in the eyes, the steely determination apparent. "I'll explain everything tonight. I still need some time to recover and repair, but we'll do it tonight. Can you meet me outside the forest tonight, ten o'clock?"

Tuffnut stared back, and nodded sternly. Then, his usual carefree smile crept back onto his face. "I'll push my household duties on my sister. She owes me anyway." He stood and clapped Hiccup on the shoulder. "You're looking rough, buddy. Rest up, alright?"

Hiccup smiled thankfully at his friend leaving. The door swung shut with a clatter, and Hiccup sat back, relaxing his tense body. It wasn't an amazing surprise, but it was surely a relief that that Tuffnut had at least agreed to meet him; but whether he would accept what Hiccup had been doing was a different story altogether. If he did, well, he would gain one more ally. If he didn't...Hiccup's time on Berk would be cut to an abrupt end.

He spent the morning relaxing, filling his stomach after the three-day fast he had unintentionally put himself up to, and attempting to find a solution to the issue of connecting the tail.

It was proving to be a rather fruitless search, but he kept sketching and hypothesizing. A sleeve wouldn't work―as had previously been proved. An adhesive would likely make more problems than fix them. Some sort of convoluted harness would likely hamper the dragon's flight. He moved through idea after idea, shooting holes in each and moving on. The one last option that he had was one that he knew was suicide was venturing into the darkness behind his mind. After the previous few days, he was particularly apprehensive towards anything involving it.

And he was right to be uneasy. Ever since he had woken up, he had felt a very real, very intrusive hunger in the pit of his stomach, like an endless chasm of starvation. For the first time since the night of its inception, it was tangible, akin to a hand around his throat. Hiccup breathed a heavy breath, clammy and deep.

He walked outside for the first time since waking up―it was an overcast, gloomy day. He stretched in the fragile, cold air and for the first time in multiple days, felt a comfortable appreciation of his current life. Even with a strange force breathing down his neck, some of his peers with antagonistic anger toward him, and his betrayal towards the entire Viking way of life, he felt a sense of peace.

A commotion erupted towards the far end of the town, and from his high point on the mountain, Hiccup squinted down at it. He couldn't hear much more than a faint mumble of conversation, and the people were tiny like ants, but the cause of the commotion was clear.

The raiding boats had returned, and much earlier than expected. Seeing the unmistakably bold figure of his father, his heart dropped, and the feeling of contentment fell. Perhaps things weren't going to be as peaceful as he had hoped for them to be.

It's staaaarting... ;)

Hope everyone enjoyed the new chapter! Took longer than I expected, but I was enjoying break. Hope you all had a good Thanksgiving as well!