A/N: Another chapter...yay.

A bone easily broke between his teeth, while he separated the meat from the skeleton, trying to satisfy his hunger.

He packed another chicken leg into his mouth and, barely chewing, he swallowed, resembling a dragon with his table manners. Vikings had none, besides burping after the meal to show respect for the woman who prepared it.

Hiccup did not remember ever feeling so hungry in his life. He never ate much and he could always keep his hunger in control. However, there was no way of controlling what he now felt. It attacked him as a hawk, awaiting its chance to strike at the best moment, when the prey was most vulnerable.

The boy had tried to stop the bleeding from the gash Toothless, for some reason, had gifted him with. Hiccup trusted the dragon and not a single thought crossed his mind considering a scenario where Toothless might hurt him. The snarky quadruped had also 'treated' it with resin, some common, natural juice from a tree. Hiccup had been in touch with every medical innovation for quite a long time through his childhood, being a tester for every ointment and balsam present, until he managed to break free from the healer's clutches and take care of himself. He had never heard of using resin as a wound dressing. It certainly worked well; the gash would have to be stitched, from what Hiccup observed when looking at the reflection of his back in the mirror, but the substance kept it from bleeding. That was, until the boy had thought of something insanely stupid and irrational. He tried to clean himself. Not in the ordinary way, simply using a bit of water, a piece of soft material and a chunk of soap. No. He wanted to use the sauna. Hiccup cleaned himself as he had intended. However, he found out a few things. First: resin does not agree with high temperatures; lots of human sweat and water have a nasty habit of making it detatch itself. Second: to detect bleeding from a now uncovered wound, it would be better to have the wounded area actually feel something. Third, nothing made you hungrier than being drilled by a dragon followed by a 'relaxing' session in the sauna.

The summary of all that was that now he sat in the Mead Hall, trying to devour as much as possible in spite of his clumsily treated wound, before he would go visit the Healer to fix the injury in a proper, 'human' way. He hurt himself a lot, therefore it would not be anything extraordinary for him to ask to be stitched up.

Another chicken leg disappeared in the youth's mouth , and the stripped bone piece launched out of his mouth as quickly as it had entered. Its siblings were already piling on two dishes placed on the table. Bertha, the Mead Hall Keeper, offered him as many helpings as he wanted, to his mild surprise. He was the village sensation, nowadays.

Otherwise, it was early in the morning, and the fishermen were already gathering in the Hall, all talking loudly about the newest gossip the world had to offer.

Hiccup tried to sit as far as possible from the others, yet he heard phrases like ,"Toothpick? It cannot be!", and "There might b' some use fo' th' boy after all!"

People were polite to him, and he returned the deportment in the best way he could. It was a change for the better, no matter how he looked at it. He figured it would take just a few more fights and he would then be the first to drop out of the challenge, to his happiness. One big happy ending.

And what then?

The question had been echoing in his mind since he shot down the Night Fury. Every step required him to answer 'what then', followed by ', what next'. His growing attachment to the dragon made him feel less and less able to understand his society and culture. Trying to find excuses for this feeling was not sufficient anymore. Toothless had showed him how dragons really were. Heck, he barely knew anything about dragons and yet, what little he had learned had made him start feeling reproachful towards all these faces surrounding him, smiling at the thought of killing yet another dragon.

Dragons were sentient, just as humans were!

He wanted to scream at these morons who were currently discussing how Hiccup would kill his first dragon, just how wrong they were, just how much their Viking over-confidence clouded their vision. They were blind! Running around, trapped, in circles and not even having a shred of curiosity to break free.

Hiccup let out a silent breath and relaxed his hands, which had curled themselves into fists.

How he despised that part of himself: these emotional thoughts he could not help creating, taking away his logic in a hurricane of feelings.

His people did not want to know any other way, desiring only to kill dragons. Hiccup used to be exactly the same- even worse, a useless fanatic driven by this shallow desire to prove himself. These men and women fought to keep their lives together and see their families and friends alive after another dragon attack. They laughed so often because this was Berk. You laughed as often as you could at life, because death might take you anytime. And you hated the dragons: their fire and disgusting bodies. Hel's abominations. Hiccup had believed that, as well. How could he blame his people?

His people did not want to see more because their eyes were focused on their families and friends. On this small island, everybody was a family, nothing brought people closer than a sense of danger. It was the war that changed people, corrupted their minds and way of life. Or were these dragons to blame?

Sometimes, though, he felt he felt he was being childish, packing all Vikings into one easy box. And that was not right, either.

Shit, again, he thought, putting a hand on his forehead. Sometimes he really wished he could stop thinking, if only for just for a moment.

"May I sit here?" a smooth, gentle and feminine voice asked.

Hiccup looked up. His eyes widened and his heart beat faster, but the glee disappeared as, out of the side of his eyes, he saw Fleshpetal taking a mug and engaging conversation with a group of Vikings. They welcomed him boomingly.

"Sure," he stated to Astrid, hoping his short words wouldn't betray the bitterness he felt. The girl sat in front of him with a bowl of vegetable stew and half a loaf of bread. She looked worn out and ragged. She must have been training. And Hiccup would have bet his favourite blacksmith hammer he could guess with whom she had had the pleasure of practising.

They ate in silence; Hiccup slowed his pace, not feeling hungry anymore. He only remained there to enjoy Astrid's presence. This was how it used to happen previously, in old times. Except then he had watched her from afar and smilied every time he saw the blonde beauty walking on the streets.

He now had the possibility of talking to her. She was so close, waiting for him to say something. She had asked if she might sit in front of him, for Odin's sake!

But Hiccup just ate, his face blank and his mind in turmoil.

"You've been training," he finally said.

With the most perfect guy on the island, the boy added, to himself.

"Yes," Astrid answered, not elaborating on the topic.

"How was it?" Hiccup asked tersely... and immediately cursed himself for it. He had accepted that Astrid would never choose him, so why was he taking his feelings out on her?

"It was fine," the gold-haired girl replied calmly, flicking her head and eyeing the youth in front of her and his sulking pose, "Hiccup," she spoke sharply.

The boy did not meet her eyes; his gazed bored into his wooden plate.

Astrid watched him, feeling her frustration grow at his silence.

"How did you defeat Gobber?" she finally queried, attempting to sound casual.

She looked at the boy's hair that now concealed those eyes she wanted to see. At least then she might be able to notice any other reaction than... sulking.

Astrid had asked herself many times why Hiccup did not seem to boast about his accomplishments and why he was acting so serious. He used to have that goofy smile whenever he saw her, always gaping at her and then looking away whenever he saw her glare.

Hiccup had a crush on her, just as many boys did. She was aware of this fact. And also aware that the auburn haired teen's reactions were very strange for someone who seemed to be winning all the time, these days.

The boy, actually, occupied her mind often. First, because he actually managed to defeat a dragon. Then he could add this recent victory over Gobber to the collection. And, after all this, he was well, pouting. Why? Hiccup was weird, secretive, distant and absolutely fascinating... and she felt a strand of jealousy towards the scrawny boy.

He had done something she could not. Twice.

"It was not me who defeated Go-," Hiccup's voice flew out from beneath his small, irregular hair curtain.

"It was you!" Astrid said with emphasis, "Snotlout can say whatever he wants, but it was you who thought of a plan, so don't say-!"

"Isn't it a sword that deals the final blow? The victor is the one who swings his weapon for the last time. Isn't it true?" the boy's measured voice stopped the girl's ever- hardening tone.

Astrid stopped; what else could she say? Argue? What was wrong with him? He wanted the glory, wanted to kill a dragon, wanted to talk to her! There never had been power in his voice or posture before, he had never showed confidence before. Was this the same Hiccup?

Who was he: Hiccup the warrior or Hiccup the clown?

The boy put one dish above the other and, taking both with one hand, he rose from his seat. Astrid, astonishing herself, sprung from the bench and grabbed Hiccup's hand.

"Why are you not happy?" she demanded, looking at the turned away face. Why wouldn't he look at her?

"But I am," Hiccup answered and showed his best smile, an all too perfect one.

It was so fake, so forced.

It peeved her, and her corded palm squeezed the youth's hand tighter. He was on his way to leading everybody in class, to get the honor of killing a dragon, of leading their unit. It was supposed to be she! How could he not show any happiness about his achievements? If he did, then it would be more bearable.

But, no, he seemed to be sad ...was he pitying her?

"Astrid," Hiccup said quietly, looking away, "You're hurting me..."

The girl let go of his hand slowly, Hiccup's fingers slipping on her skin as he moved his hand away, almost accidently touching her.

"See you later," the scrawny boy spoke his usual farewell and walked away.

Astrid eyes did not slip from Hiccup's figure until the youth disappeared through the doors.

She was sure Hiccup did not only mean his hand. The boy did not have a simple crush on her; he actually liked her far too much for his own good. Was that why he acted so miserable? Was it her fault? What Astrid did not like was the guilt she felt about that. What she liked even less was that this feeling was addressed to a person who was supposed to be her rival. She had a very good reason to win the tournament. This group fight might be only now be competing in warm ups to the main single combat part of the training, however, it stung her pride to be shown she was lacking something. It was not according to her plan.

How is he doing it? She asked herself, again. She could not figure it out! Since the unusual boy's first victory, she had been training even more furiously than ever. There was not a day she did not come home with her body in agony, collapsing into her bed and into a shallow slumber, agonising muscle pains her haunting lullaby.

She cracked her knuckles, a recently nervous gesture on her part, and one she was not aware she did. Thoughts about Hiccup had invaded her mind again in fruitless contemplation. How could this clumsy, weak boy possibly be better than she?

"Is everything all right?" a deep tenor made her head jerk up to Fleshpetal, standing in front of her. He was massive, and yet she did not notice him. What was wrong with her?

"I'm all right. Sorry," she mumbled, abashed by her own reactions. She sat quickly back down and slurped her stew.

Fleshpetal took a seat in front of her without asking, "Have you learned what you wanted from Hiccup?" he queried casually, putting his gorgeous face on his palm, observing the girl with great attention.

"No, he did not answer me," Astrid responded, taking another mouthful of her meal, her eyes absent, preoccupied with thoughts of somebody other than the handsome man in front of her.

Fleshpetal's brows furrowed and he placed his hand on Astrid's, "Once we've finished, would you like to continue your training?" he asked, trying to meet her eyes, to make her snap into reality.

"Of course! Thank you for spending so much time with me," Astrid answered with a kind smile, looking into his eyes, finally, blushing a bit. It added even more charm to her face.

However, her hand slipped away from beneath Fleshpetal's hand, slowly and gently, as if trying not to hurt the man's feelings. Her head dropped, and her eyes misted again.

Why is she not looking at me? The young commander asked himself, tilting his head. He knew the reason. What he did not know was that he and Astrid shared exactly the same problem when it came to their desire to meet another person's eyes.

Hiccup sat on a simple stool in the middle of the kitchen. Around him, dozens of strings were hanging from the rafters, each holding various sorts of plants, flowers and several other things that looked like morsels of something the boy would never want to see, even less to eat.

He had his back exposed, sitting without his tunic. A chubby woman, her light hair tied in a neat ponytail, was taking away the last of what Hiccup politely called his 'wound-dressing'.

"Getting the kids out wasn't necessary, really...," the teen said apologetically, hearing only a rustle of material and feeling only a hand on his shoulder.

"I remember ya never liked t' show those scars t' anyone. It took Stoick an'I a long talk t' make ya let me see them," Mouldful said with a voice full of trained balance between softness and firmness. A woman can only wield a voice like that after many years of dealing with stubborn warriors and seeing far too many deaths.

Hiccup remained silent and still, letting the Healer examine the wound. The scarred teen had not visited this herb-smelling house since he was nine. No treats or pledges worked; Hiccup had wanted to take care of himself.

This time, Mouldful welcomed him with a wrinkled smile and a simple question," Wha' did ya do this time?"

"Does it hurt?" The woman asked, taking a pine-scented ointment and rubbing it in around the gash. Hiccup knew the pine was only there to hide the real ingredients of the medicine, and he would never ask what was in it. The boy did not like this place and its strong aroma, almost intoxicating him.

It all felt too familiar; as it were only here to hide the overwhelming odour of death. A large table by the door was used for supporting the injured. Nothing could remove the rusty stains of blood from the floor, or the small rows carved on the edges of the table where people's nails had scratched when worming in pain or clutched in an ultimate, desperate attempt to take a last breath before dying.

The boy remembered earlier times and a few scenes bored into his mind: the smooth feel of the wood and how slippery it became as he lay on it. The raised voices of people. The smell of burned flesh, mixing with the soothing aroma of herbs.

He remembered pain the most; he never wanted to experience such torment again. That table reminded him of it.

"Only a bit when I move my arm," Hiccup answered almost immediately.

"Any other pain?"

"No."

Hiccup took a glimpse at the side again. Damn table.

"I see..." the female voice stated, again, with a trained assurance that you had no choice, but to believe, "Ya do not have feelin' left in tha' part of yer body. It happens when somebody's skin gets burned deeply," she said in an emotionless voice, as if stating the most normal thing in the world.

Hiccup actually believed for a moment that having a deep depression in his scarred back was something absolutely normal.

Another glimpse.

Damn table.

"You'll need to sew it, right?" Hiccup asked, trying not to let his eyes deviate to the side.

A small fire cracked in the humble hearth.

"Aye, don't worry, it won't hurt...," Mouldful said gently, taking a thread from a large glass filled with light green liquid. A needle hung from the fibers' end.

"...this time..." Hiccup spurted out, his eyes returning to looking at the front.

Damn table.

He clutched his fist on his lap. A big hand turned his small body to face the healer and, before he could react, his head rested on the woman's massive chest, two gentle hands holding it.

"Shhh, it's going to be all right," she said in the same, perfect voice. Hiccup believed the woman. Before she started stitching, him he thought about how many people must have heard these words before him.

Three kids played in front of the house, all with small sticks, pretending to be warriors.

Hiccup held a clay mug of herbal tea, sitting on the stairs. Mouldful was sitting by him in a high chair, knitting. The boy had been asked a simple question a moment ago, "Who did it to ya?"

"I slipped," Hiccup answered with his most typical excuse.

"It is not a battle wound, it is also not somethin' a group of moronic teens does t' each other. Th' cut was too sharp. I can't believe how it stayed so clean for so long," the healer spoke nonchalantly.

"For so long?" the boy repeated.

"It looks like it was done a few days ago, yet th' wound started healing already," Mouldful said between the children's playful screams and the quiet sounds of her knitting needles.

"Few days?" Hiccup gasped.

"Did ya get hit in th' head as well?" The woman said seriously, "When I say a few days, it means few days. Ya still did not answer th' first question," she reminded him calmly.

"Do I need to answer that?" he spoke, knowing the answer he would receive.

"No..., ya never answered such questions before, this part did not change 'bout ya," Mouldful retorted.

Hiccup sipped the steaming brew," When can I take the stitches off? And can I train with them?"

"In a week. An' I wouldn't recommend th' training. Ya don't feel almost any pain, so that part shouldn't be a problem, but it will slow the recovery. You should visit me again t' let me take off," the chubby woman spoke insistingly.

"I need to go," the boy said, getting up," Thank you for the drink, it was delicious," he said, smiling.

Mouldful nodded, taking the half-way full mug from the youth, "Take care of yerself, Hiccup."

The boy answered, bowing "I will try my best," he answered, with perfect truthfulness.

"Sit!"

No reaction.

"Siiiiitttt."

Still nothing.

"Lie down."

Why was he not reacting?

Why is it so hard to train a human! Toothless thought with irritation.

Hiccup stood there with bared teeth, not doing anything.

"I don't hear anything," the pup said, raising a finger and scratching his face, "I only see you open your mouth, that's all."

Both of them sighed together. It was no use. They had tried a multiple times before and, for some reason, Scalgertar never seemed to hear what the dragon tried to utter. When Toothless was really lucky, Hiccup understood a part, or in a few rare occasions, a whole word. The word winners, so far, were "Want", "Drown" and "Now".

Using a bowing of head as 'yes' and turning from side to side as 'no' was enough for Toothless. Some dragons could not talk at all ,and body language was a satisfying way of communication. However, Hiccup insisted for the expression of agreement to be the word "Drown" and the one for disagreement to be "Now". The boy wanted to have verbal contact between them.

"Fly?" the one-bite-sized human asked, pointing up.

"Drown," Toothless answered and yawned widely, rolling his tongue out and then smacking his lips a few times.

"All right," Hiccup breathed out, correcting the new addition to his clothes, some interesting looking skin parts which crossed on his chest. He took the saddle to which he had added small metal elements and grabbed the tail-thing. The boy explained he had to spend most of the day creating a new clothing to help himself with flying. He also brought more metal devices to create more things. These were all just weird items in the dragon's eyes, but these weird items were helping him fly.

It was also incomprehensible to the Fury why humans said a word that meant everything and adding to it a term about a cardinal direction... and that meant agreement!

Why not "All left?" or "All down?"

The boy put the harness on. This time it felt a bit more comfortable , and Toothless did not show any signs of anxiety; well, no visible signs.

The truth was, he was only a bit less uneasy than the previous time. As a contrast to his own feelings, he sensed a strong willingness and anticipation from the boy. It helped. A lot.

Before they enjoyed the pleasures air offered, the dragon demanded to see Hiccup's back, now smelling horribly of squashed plants and of the substance Hiccup mentioned when Toothless had enjoyed the unique opportunity of seeing his half-digested food on the ground.

Wee-nay-gaar.

It took a lot of Hiccup's time to explain to the Fury that this was the human way of handling wounds like this and to stop Toothless from ripping the pitiful piece of cloth which covered the cut and start licking it.

These primitive rock-struck Root-Of-All-Evil-eaters could not even tell that there had been something wrong with Hiccup for so long! Did these bipeds even remotely care about the young one?

Those thoughts riled the dragon greatly. From what he understood, the responsibility for the pup fell on his father. Toothless chose to focus his mind attacks on that particular human for not caring well enough about his offspring. What Kathet did not care about its young ones? Only a mindless assemblage, destined for 's father was also the leader, and that fact was hard for Toothless to accept, how such an incredulously detached individual could care of his clan if he could not even take care of his own hatchling!

Had Hiccup been an adult, it would have changed the dragon's point of view, but the boy was still young and fragile; and from his smell Toothless could say he never even had a female before. The boy needed protection and somebody to look after him.

Hiccup's body posture was begging for the dragon not to do anything, and so the irritated beast could not do whatever he pleased to the pup. Knocking the boy unconscious and cutting him open might have worked once.

Toothless snorted. Why did he bother caring about Hiccup's feelings? He only needed the human to fly.

After the preparations, they continued soaring slowly on slow glides, close to the ground. To Toothless's delight, Hiccup stopped yelping gleefully and remained focused on observing the tail and occasionally taking notes. The day went fast, and soon it was time for the break. It was the boy's request. The reason was not the human's fatigue getting in the way, but the need to mark his territory. In fact, Scalgertar seemed to have more energy than usual. Physically. His mind, on the other paw, was a fixed mess of happiness, unbreakable concentration and a crushing amount of radiating misery.

Hiccup Sighed, deep and long.

Toothless's ear-antennas smacked against his neck from their sudden drooping. It was the fourteenth time the boy had done it... the "Sigh". He was sitting on a rock and doing something called drawing.

Another Sigh, and the boy's amount of unhappiness almost made the dragon's brain freeze. The Fury sat and started thrashing the ground ostentatiously with his tail, trying to get Hiccup's attention.

The boy looked at the loud dragon and sighed again, got up, and walked to Toothless. He barely looked where he was going, closed notebook in his hand.

When he was almost by the restless Toothless, the notebook dropped and opened on the page with a pencil in it. Hiccup bent rapidly down to pick up the lost item.

The dragon was faster. The wind swooshed on Hiccup's face and suddenly Toothless was a fair distance away, holding the notebook in his maw. He put it between his paws on the ground and nuzzled it gently a few times to open it.

Scalgertar shouted his disapproval and ran towards the dragon, desperate to keep the notebook contents a secret. The dragon managed to flap it open it. He studied it, narrowing his eyes and memorising every detail. Hiccup was trying to get past Toothless's tail, which acted like a guard and, blocking the boy's chest, not letting the boy past.

"Toothless, don't look!" he ordered, his body heated, heartbeat rapid and face red. Amazing, this human ability to change the skin colour on their faces.

The dragon calmly looked for a bit more and released the teen, who sprinted and picked up his memoir. Hiccup brushed his vest nonchalantly and tried to act with as much dignity as possible.

Toothless wrinkled his nose, looking blankly, but barely holding himself back not to throw Hiccup into the water. Again.

All these sighs and problems because of... the dragon snorted and calmed himself. He understood it for the most part except one. His claw played in the dirt, creating letters. The boy's face changed from red to white pale and then to red again as he continued to read the letters.

WHY FEMALE NO CLOTHES?

The notebook dropped , and a bird chirped somewhere in the woods. The boy looked surprised, to say the least. Why did he react like this?

Now Toothless had to know what was the connection between the drawing and Hiccup. The dragon also had to know how humans changed their colours. Was it some sort of camouflage? And also, the most interesting part: why did they seem to try and run away after being asked about uncovered females, the Fury asked himself, tail waggling playfully, looking, in fascination, at the boy now running to the exit,.

With less than a couple of leaps, the dragon caught up with the human; eyes wide open and ears-antennas standing. He stalked forward, purring with curiosity, almost in the same way they had met for the first time.

This time, as well, Hiccup stumbled and fell on his back, only to get up and sprint to his human-things-container. After a short fight with it, he took out a small looking, metal thing.

"I am armed and I won't hesitate to use it!" he squealed in a very high voice, clutching the metal-thing to his chest, his heart beating like crazy.

Use it? In what way? I know he is armed! He has two arms after all! How silly, Toothless thought with glee and walked forward to continue his questioning.

The boy raised the metal thing higher, and then a shiny reflection from the metal-thing was cast on the ground.

"Blink!" the dragon roared jumping at the place where the light spot was, trying to catch it. How long was it since he had played with Blinks? All dragons loved to chase the sudden light appearing on the ground, just as they also liked to chase the Aeldengandari's low energy version, the one which Scalgertar had chased not so long ago.

The Lightning Spirit was quite an accurate term for Toothless's fire. It was made of lightning and came not from his breath, but from his spirit, as the dragon was taught.

The very lowly charged Aeldengandari for play behaved in a staggeringly dissimilar manner from the typical highly charged blast used for destruction. Both had the same quality that they exploded on contact. The dragon could even decide when they should explode. With the discharge Hiccup had chased after, however, there was almost no energy and, when it exploded, it was mostly gentle light.

Toothless could also control the small lightning trajectory with his will. Interesting thing, but completely useless and nothing compared to what IT was capable to do. Its only purpose was to keep young ones occupied. His sister used to make them chase after a few flying Blinks. Now, Toothless was chasing after a ground Blink , adding amazingly sophisticated thoughts to variegate his pursuit.

Blink! Blinkblinkbinkblinkblink! He pondered in this oh-so-sophisticated way, jumping on another gleaming spot.

Hiccup, for some reason, was laughing behind him. It was hard to resist the incomprehensible pull it had on dragons. They simply liked shiny things and loved to play.

Again the Blink appeared and Toothless jumped, trying to catch it. It escaped and reappeared closer to Hiccup. The dragon enjoyed himself for a while, releasing his playfulness.

After another jump, he suddenly remembered he had a few things to ask the human. Now in high spirits, he approached Hiccup and sat, his tail still waving. The pup moved the metal-thing, casting a Blink near the dragon, without any effect. Toothless was well trained, and he could resist his instincts.

The boy, noticing the sudden change in the Fury's demeanor, pointed at a thing behind Toothless and after shouting "There!" he tried to run away. Tried was a good word, the same way that could be used to describe how he tried to make the dragon's tail release him a brief moment later.

Toothless gently laid the boy the down boy by his notebook and then sat in front of him with an expecting expression.

"I don't want to talk about it," Hiccup said shortly.

The dragon blasted some of the ground near him, encouragingly, still wearing the same angelic expression. He purred for a better effect. No human could resist such an astonishing combination.

"Fine!" The youth roared, raising his hands in defeat as the dragon predicted. The dragon smirked, satisfied with his ingenious strategy to make the human talk.

Toothless could not understand all of the words which escaped Hiccup's mouth like a torrent, accented with wild gesticulations. The dragon soon regretted his interest in the topic. The pup's problem was so simple it was not worth the Fury's very precious time: time he could spend on his favourite rock, catching the sunrays.

He actually went to the rock at some point, and this time it was Hiccup who followed him, attacking his mind with this story he did not care about.

Some time later when Toothless was seriously considered whether to toss Scalgertar into the water or to gnaw on his head, Hiccup stopped.

The dragon looked behind himself, astonished by the sudden silence and saw the boy reading his notebook.

Uh- oh. Here it comes, Toothless thought.

Hiccup Sighed, looked at the drawing, and Sighed again.

"All right, Toothless, let's go..." The boy said and shuffled to the dragon to get on the saddle. The dragon jumped down from the rock and growled. In his present condition, the pup would only get both of them killed.

Instead of focusing his amazing mind, the youth was feeling bad about... a female of all things! Why did not humans learn how to control their minds and instincts? Toothless had not had a female for a very long time as well, but he had learned how not to let it affect him.

Dealing with a dragoness was fairly simple. You showed her how strong you were, added a few gifts in the form of hunted game to show you were able to look after her and her family... and then she agreed or not. If she said no, you had to leave and search for another candidate. When you found her, you mated, had offspring and lived together until one of you died.

How complicated was that?

Toothless did not wait for another tormenting explanation or the Sigh to happe. He just scribbled a few words in the soil.

NO FLY... YOU GO HAVE FEMALE

Hiccup took a moment to decipher the runes. Toothless added some more, then, and watched Scelgarter's reaction.

WHY YOU RED?

Toothless studied the raising crimson on the youth's face.

The boy cleared his throat and sat, looking to his side and putting his head on his hand.

"It is not so easy, Toothless," he said, uttering the Sigh, "She likes somebody else; that's all. The end," Hiccup said taking, a quick look into dragon's eyes. Then he fell silent.

The dragon crooned and angled his head, ears twitching. The boy did not explain this human behaviour, and it only made it more intriguing.

There were also a few words Toothless did not understand. Why did Hiccup say 'here you have it'. Have what? Nothing changed, Scalgertar did not take out anything.

However, there was one word which immediately caught the dragon's attention.

WHAT IS ... LIKES?

Hiccup rubbed his small head with his hand, "It is hard to explain, it is ... to want to be with somebody even if that person is not there, to be interested and care, I guess."

Toothless drabbled again.

YOU GUESS YOU... LIKES...FEMALE?

The dragon could understand the concept. It was a human term to care and feel the need to be close. As the Fury thought of it, he realized he might have liked his sister and brother and he might now be feeling like for Hiccup.

"No, Toothless," the youth's face lost its reddish colour and he had a earnestness and sadness showing in his eyes ... and yet a pretended nonchalance in his voice.

So confusing.

"I love her...I guess," Hiccup spoke.

The dragon responded to the boy's feelings, and he did not like the sudden prick of pain he felt when the youth said that.

WHAT IS LOVE? The Fury asked with a desire to know more about this thing which was so painful.

"I don't know," the answer came promptly, "It is like 'likes', but stronger, making you unable to think of anything else, it is a happy feeling, making you excited when that person is around, doing everything to impress her and make her like you even a bit. It is making you try more, become something better! It brings joy to your life," Hiccup said, smiling when looking at the pond water.

A wind blew and Scalgertar's hair moved rhythmically. The smiling boy had never looked more lonely to the dragon. Loneliness was what Toothless's first impression of the youth's eyes was. They were melancholic. He had felt the connection with the human, always present, but subtle. Hiccup felt hollow as if missing something, just as the dragon did. Yet, Hiccup seemed not to notice that part of himself. It was not about the female or his body, it was something was curious, but he would not ask about this feeling. It was bringing sorrow to the boy which the dragon felt as well. He decided to try to approach the pup from different angle.

YOU ALONE

The boy's smile smothered, "I am not alone, Toothless. It's just...oh," he emitted an aggravated huff, "I don't know, I am just weird."

YES

The dark creature simply agreed. The petite human was weird; there was no denying that fact. Toothless felt satisfied the boy understood something about himself, pity it was just only a bit.

YOU NOT KNOW LOTS ABOUT YOU HICCUP THAT BAD

Making sure Scalgertar had read it, the dark paw swiped the earth and the white claw continued the thought.

YOU ACCEPT YOU AND LEARN YOU

"How do I do that?" Hiccup queried, a sense of doubt in his voice. Toothless understood that they were too different and the human would not understand the meaning of it. Nevertheless, the dragon wanted to help his clanmate. Somehow.

ALWAYS ASK YOU WHY YOU IS YOU AND WHEN YOU KNOW IT ACCEPT IT

More dubiousness radiated from the small human. It was not something the dragon could solve. He was almost certain bipeds did not solve the problems with themselves by visiting their Lening Frondrak fromtime to time when they felt they were getting frustrated.

Most of Hiccup's species, as observed by Toothless, was acting mindlessly, propelled by a desire to kill and destroy. Toothless could understand the desire to murder somebody but why destroy everything around it? Nail people to the trees and leave them until they die from starvation, breaking arms and legs and watch as the person squirms on the ground, unable to move?

Why all this? Why not simply kill the one they hated? There had to be hate or a similar good reason to kill anyone. At least when you were a dragon.

Humans seemed not to need a reason to make a being suffer and have... fun with it. Their cruel laugher often pierced Toothless's sensitive ears, pricking his hurtful heart.

That laughter was indistinguishably similar to the one IT had when that monstrosity invaded his thoughts. Although, this always created more curiosity than hate towards the primitive folk. Why would they do that? Humans were such a mystery. They could create such wonderful things, be courageous and full of uplifting pride and then, they could be worse than the most primitive of dragons, letting their instincts take over and go forward with them. Simply be cruel and mindlessly destructive.

Hiccup was... different. Thinking too much and feeling too much. This could be quite troublesome when the only reasonable thing to do in his humans' world was to crush an opponent's skull before he did do it to you. Brooding over yourself might get you answers ...or lock your mind in a quest for the answer that never was there.

All these attributes sounded frighteningly familiar to Toothless. The dragon had already thought about this for way too long. He still did.

He could not help Scalgertar, after all. The beast did not know how to do it. Perhaps one day he would learn enough about humans to be able to solve Hiccup's problems. For the moment, it was a journey the emotional boy had to go by himself.

WANT PLAY?

The words appeared in the earth surface after the previous ones. Hiccup smiled broadly and bowed his head in agreement.

Toothless asked the youth to take off all of the flying items and then to sit in front of him. The sable dragon hoped for his smaller familiar to be distracted by this upcoming activity. He was happy to discover that he was not mistaken.

The game was simple and, as every draconic game, it was supposed to end with one of the participants getting hurt. Toothless scooped a small rock with his paw and located it between himself and the curious-looking clanmate. The idea was you caught the rock before your opponent did. Quite simple. However, the fun was not in catching the token, but in using strategy to be the one to catch it first.

You were not allowed to move anything except your head , and you could not attack unless your opponent did. If, during your attempt to possess the item, the second player did not move, it did not count. The main point was to deceive by pretending to look away for the moment, looking into the eyes of your playmate or insult him.

Insulting was not an option, as the human would not understand insults, but it did not make the fun any less interesting. The scaled beast tried to explain the game as simply as possible and after a few failed tries, they were ready to go.

Toothless looked at the grey, oval rock and his eyes moved up to the human's, smirking confidently. The boy's hand shook. It was not missed by the Fury. His tail fin moved over the rock in the blink of an eye.

"I didn't move!" Hiccup yelled in his defence. The dragon raised his eyebrow.

"Fine! Again!" the boy called.

The game continued with the occasional yell of the boy and the low, rumbling laughter usually following it.

It was better to see the boy laugh and scowl after another wrong or too slow move, even though it was a facade that almost concealed the sadness inside.

One day, Toothless promised, you will not have to pretend your smile Scalgertar

"I won!" Hiccup shouted, raising his hands holding the rock. The dragon just moved his tail, lost in his thought and in the boy's smile

"Did anybody see that?" the excited teen continued, standing and performing some weird movements with his body,"Hiccup wins again!"

Toothless let the youth have his moment of glory, moving his tail lazily in fanning motions.

They played until the sunlight reflected on small clouds with a pink glow and the temperature dropped, making the sea smell more distinctive and refreshing.

Hiccup left soon, with hesitation, back to his home, grabbing the rock's edge and flying items strongly before looking back as if trying to find any other reason to stay. He had said he did not want others to notice he was away too often. It seemed hard, life in the Viking world.

Hiccup was different. and he had to pay for that. Pay for having a weak body because nobody ever took a closer look at it and its hidden strengths. Pay for a magnificent mind and a noble heart, more full of dignity and courage than most of the dragons had.

It seemed humans rejected the ones who were different from normal.

Actually, Toothless felt Hiccup had proved to be more dangerous than any of the other humans of his clan; was this not the thing the Vikings wanted? To have more power to destroy and kill? Why was it so hard for humans to let the scales drop from their eyes and see something more, if not in dragons, then at least in one of their own kind?

And how many more individuals like Hiccup, had been lost or cast away by Hiccup's people? Be just like us or die...

Where are you going, humans...? the dragon wondered. No matter how many times he asked himself that, he always came to the same conclusion, ...if not straight to your doom?

He looked at the empty space where Hiccup had stood. The dragon wanted to take at least just this one person, free him from the cruel circle humanity seemed to place upon themselves. Free him before he was be pulled inside of it as well.

"Didn't kill anyone today?" A deep voice inquired facetiously from the darkened room.

"No," Astrid responded, her voice serious, as if not noticing the tone her father had just used.

Leifr was sitting by the table, alone. That never meant anything good. One of the bad things it meant was a serious talk, which always happened in such situations. It was a father's duty to handle the household matters as well as issues. And Astrid counted herself as an issue presently.

"Please, sit," Leifr asked softly, pointing at the chair across from where he was sitting. The fact that the blonde's father was using the highest of the chairs, the one giving a sense of authority, added to the seriousness of the matter.

The axe-wielding girl obeyed and, leather armor rustling, she seated herself at the place where her father pointed.

"How hav' ya been lately?" The stonecutter asked, his eyes suspended on Astrid, examining every dirt mark on her face and hair, mixed together with a considerable collection of bruises and cuts.

"I've been training," the young woman responded calmly, flicking her head.

"This is th' thing I wanted t' talk 'bout," Leifr took a deep breath, "I think ya should stop trainin' so hard," he said gravely, bringing his massive hands together.

"I do not see anything wrong with what I am doing, father," the golden-haired female said politely, with a pleasant smile, "My trainer does not see anything bad in it either. Considering my latest Dragon training results, additional practice is more than required."

She spoke automatically as if reciting a memorised quote.

The powerfully- built man, looked into his daughter's bright eyes, "Ya know very well our house does not need th' glory or attention' comin' from your trainin'."

Leifr leaned forward and placed his heavy palm on Astrid's shoulder, "We only want ya t' get out alive from there. I admit, I wouldn't survive if I lost ya, little-one."

"I am not a child anymore, father," the tired-looking teen said with the same idyllic smile, and on her father's face, a hurtful grimace appeared.

"Since I turned twelve I have decided on... something and I want to fulfill it..." she hesitated for a moment as Leifr retracted his hand , "it is not that I am not grateful that you still keep me under your roof and provide me with food. I promise that when you have a better place in society here, I will move out and stop being a nuisance-"

A sharp thundering sound made her jerk as her father struck the heavy oak table.

"I won't let my daughter speak like tha'," he said quietly with a voice full of anger," Ya hav' pulled yerself away from yer family, my precious daughter. How ya can not know tha' this house will always be yours, as much as it is mine? Tha' I would giv' ya everythin'! Yer mother would always welcome ya with warm food an' a dressed bed. How ya can consider yerself a nuisance?" he uttered, his tone filled with great sorrow.

"Hav' we been a bad parents t' ya? Hav' we not loved ya enough? I know I can't forbid ya from participatin' in that bloody mess of a trainin'," he continued, and the inflection of his voice made Astrid hate herself for how much pain she was bringing to this man.

Her so carefully retained smile had already broken long ago.

Her father continued, "I always was a coward, Astrid. I was afraid of war and pain. I did not understand th' way most Vikings thought, me being an immigrant, and an immigrant with a child who was born here on Berk. I wanted t' escape this rigid island many times. I still want to, sometimes, but there are two things an' those two things were always enough t' make me stay. One of these things is yer mother, a proud Viking warrior who chose to immigrate here with me. The second, is ya, Astrid, my dear!" he clenched his hands together, hard, "Don't kill yerself over this stupid Viking pride or whatever goal ya have chosen."

"You were always overdramatic, Dad," Astrid said, without a smile.

It was her turn, this time, to put a hand on Leifr's shoulder, "I know you are worried, but I am fine with the training. I am not satisfied with how I am doing and I want to be better. I want to be a soldier, Dad. To protect you, mom, and the village. I could also tell you why I want to win this so badly, but I want this to be a surprise. So, please, don't ask me about this anymore."

The strong man grasped the smaller hand and tried nodding with understanding.

"Yer mother said, she is givin' ya her full support. It seems she is not as overdramatic as me," Leifr said with a hint of humour, to Astrid's relief.

They did not mention the topic again, even with a word.

Saldis later came back home from what she said was a "long run over the neighbourhood," collecting the latest gossip; her eyes met with her husband's only once as she entered the house. They ate together and chatted, just like they did every day.

Astrid thanked her parents for the meal and said she needed to wash herself and rest.

As soon as the door to her room closed, she dropped to her bed, fighting the drowsiness. The many forms and intensity of her pains were not letting her sleep. She stood and stripped in front of the polished shield she used as a mirror.

She had worn a bandage covering her chest for the whole day. With a sigh of great relief she took the sweat-soaked bindings off. The skin and nipples of her breasts were irritated, and she felt pain with every touch. She fingers glided down, touching the bruises on her body, the old ones, yellow, and those just acquired, purple and blue. Fleshpetal was merciless when training with her, though he was kind afterwards.

He was intelligent and funny. He did not boast about his talents and was loved by others. She liked him; she found herself imagining as the perfect Viking man for her.

And, still, she could not forget Hiccup's sad face and especially how his fingers touched her hand.

She touched the same spot on her hand that the boy had, trying to recall the feeling. Then, suddenly she stopped, surprised by her actions. She knew was only fascinated by him because he had proven better than everybody expected and had kept on winning.

She met her own piercing blue gaze in the iron mirror.

He was her enemy. Only another competitor, an obstruction towards her goal.

She was doing it for her family, a cause much better than anyone else's!

Her reflected face and eyes agreed , and the pain of her body helped her force out anger against the scrawny teen. Only the irritatingly pleasant feeling of his touch remained and stayed with her as she washed herself and went to bed, trying to sleep.

The pain finally subsided, allowing her to let the tiredness take over and make the night forget about everything.

She woke up in the morning. For a moment, she had a small, victorious smile on her face.

For a moment.

The feeling on her hand was still there.

Why won't you just die in peace? Hiccup thought with great annoyance as he was woken up in the morning, as almost every day, by the loudest rooster in the village. Not only did the screeching tormentor always choose the roof next to Hiccup's window, but that chicken was also doing it until the drowsy boy would open the window and start cursing or throwing something; usually something light, as heavier things did not fly very far.

Anyway, he usually had problems with lifting heavy objects to the windowsill.

Hiccup looked at his bow, lying on his desk with the string spiraling around it. He thought that it might not be such a good idea to use it, even for the very noble cause of letting that bawling bird meet its end.

In his great mercy, the boy decided to forgive the rooster its impudence and let it enjoy another day of his life.

Scratching his hair and then his butt in a majestic way, Hiccup dressed in his training tunic and trousers and donned his bearskin vest. He made his way downstairs, picking his bare feet over a recently retooled saddle and his new flying vest.

It might have been another short night, but it had been a very fruitful one.

Sipping his herbal infusion, he studied the design one more time. The vest was basically made with two leather straps across his chest creating an X-shaped cross. In the middle of this cross at sternum height, he installed a metal ring to the bottom of which a thin, but very strong, sailing rope had been attached. That should solve the problem of Hiccup falling off with every sudden turn and twist from the dragon.

With verve he sprung from his seat and, satisfied with the work done, he slipped on his boots, grabbed his helmet and stepped outside. His body was feeling whole and alert, in a way he never had experienced before. Whatever Toothless had done to him, he was very grateful for that. He would ask the dragon to continue whatever he did again in the near future, as it seemed to make his wounds heal faster.

With confident and quick steps, he marched to the Mead Hall. It might have been another Dragon Training class day ahead, but Gods, he was hungry and nothing would stand in front of him and his breakfast stew.

The small crowd yelled in applause.

It was an official fact now. Hiccup had been able to defeat a dragon without touching it, which, in the Viking vocabulary, meant kill it with a heavy object until it was a bloody mess level with the ground.

Hiccup nodded shyly to the clapping people, acting very modest and not going on loudly about the upcoming drinking contest in the Mead Hall.

The "crowd favorite" was quite pleased with himself. The smooth moves, the calm acting with a ferocious and vicious dragon on the loose,the feints in order to execute his ingenious plan.

Anyway, this was what Hiccup forced himself to think, in order to manage plastering a smile to his face as he waved to his, still very new, fans.

The one thing which was satisfying to him was that he had defeated the Terror and showed himself superior to the other Viking kids.

But there were other reasons behind that, too.

The youth had no doubt that other trainees would have hurt the tiny dragon and, as much as he wanted to stay off-side, Hiccup did not want that to happen. To him, the little one looked like a terrified beast, pitiful as it tried to crawl into the walls and escape when the others tried to chase it.

The tiny dragon was very fast on the ground, and nobody was able to catch up with it. It used all of its time away when it was not being pursued by humans to try and crawl up the rock wall, yelping in a way that pierced Hiccup's kind heart.

The spectators found it hilarious as the dragon tried to escape right after biting Tuffnut's nose.

Hiccup realized the Terror was only trying to survive. It was scared and defended itself the only way it knew without getting it marked for being killled by humans.

And Hiccup also knew Tuffnut's nose would have been a memory if the Terror had attacked seriously. For Hiccup nothing of all this pointless, cruel fight made any sense.

He then decided to forget about his plan to stay as far as possible from the fighting, and he used the small speck of light, making the pocket-sized quadruped chase it. It purred in curiosity, seemingly hypnotised, as it followed the light to the door-flap from which it came out.

He did not mind Snotlout's sulking posture or Astrid glaring at him, first with disbelief and then with clear fury.

He had done the right thing and he would not have changed it for anything else.

At this point, his ingenious plan to be only a shadow in the background was crumbling apart. Now, as he won more of the fights, he realized he would be chosen as the leader of the group. Even more of a reason to celebrate.

However, Hiccup was finding out he was not a dragon killer, but a sensitive, emotional, empath.

And this realization he was an empath, this he saw would be a giant turning-point of his life.

Why were the gods always choosing people who typically led miserable lives full of pain and sorrow?

Hiccup let his mind play out a sarcastic possibility for his existence on this crazy island.

Hey Hiccup! I'm Thor, I know you will be born in a moment but...um, how to tell you this, there was not enough comedy left in the world...so I decided to make things really hilarious on Berk. I'll make you really small and skinny and yet... guess what kind of destiny I have in mind for you?

The boy played with his imagination as he was clapped on the shoulder more times than he wanted.

In a blur, he saw Fishlegs put his hands on his shoulders and shake him like a rag doll, shouting about him being the unit leader.

Ruffnut, also, joined to congratulate him by simply shaking hands with him and then encouragingly slapping his bottom hard, earning a yelp of surprise and a reddened face from Hiccup. As awkward a gesture as it was, the auburn-haired boy enjoyed having another person from the training group acknowledge him. He realized now he probably would be the one to lead this group of teens, and he needed as much support from them as possible.

Snotlout and Tuffnut were standing aside, talking to each other about something, the blond boy pressing the piece of cloths to his nose. It looked as if the nose-bitten boy wanted to convince his muscular companion about something.

The scrawny teen was, at the moment, taken by the crowd , who yelled and cried out about his manliness, surrounding him and taking him to the village.

Turning his head back to look at the one girl he had tried not to watch through the whole training in order not to lose concentration, he saw her, still in the Ring, her axe held low, not looking at him, but at the ground. He could not see her face; it was too far away to read any details. But he did remember Astrid had not looked so well today, with puffed eyes and small scars on her beautiful face.

One man separated from the mob and turned back to the training ground, a strong golden man heading to the lone, golden young women in the Kill Ring .

Hiccup had to make himself ignore that vision.

So, instead he made himself look forward, heading to celebrate his well-deserved glorification. He had to keep on smiling, keep on talking back and keep on acting as if everything was perfectly fine. He accepted the attention and talked cheerfully to people who just a week ago had wished he would drop dead.

Hiccup kept the show going. Though the only thing he could think of was the scene, deeply carved into his mind, of Fleshpetal hugging the lone figure of Astrid.

The pencil moved sharply on the parchment. The sound it made, as another instruction on how to operate Toothless's tailfin was created, were the only sounds the immobile Viking boy could hear.

The dragon remained quiet, not asking about anything or trying to play when Hiccup was not in the mood for it.

Hiccup could still swear the intelligent Fury was able to probe his mind sometimes.

Hiccup's current thoughts were on the final dragon. This dragon training would consist of three more fights as a group, with the Gronkle, the Zippleback and the Nadder. He had to think of plans to make the unit survive it, protect the dragons from getting slaughtered and protect himself, protect Toothless, protect the secret...

Hiccup had never had anything to protect and now, barely two weeks after meeting the dragon the list was so long already. Wasthis what it meant to grow up? To have things you were responsible for?

With the growing responsibility, came fear.

Hiccup thought about his father, Toothless, Astrid, other trainees and himself. In that order, no other. A couple of days ago he would not have cared if he had died during the training or the dragon raid. It was a fear he had learned to tame.

Something lightly touched his head. Hiccup reached up small hand and pet the scaled nose, and Hiccup felt the blow of hot air as he scratched it. Toothless soon purred and closed his eyes, letting the boy enjoy a bit of cuddling.

The sleek dragon and Hiccup shared the same thought then, on how much strength and energy a simple physical contact could give. Then the thoughtful youth embraced the short, jet black neck, still keeping the notebook in his palm, and rested his forehead on the dragon's skin.

Everything seemed so much easier with another one next to you. He would survive the training and not let the dragons die. He would not let anyone find Toothless.

He smiled, absorbing the heat and tenderness that came with it. He would make all of it happen, no matter what.

No matter what! Astrid thought, throwing her axe at the tree trunk. She kept repeating this to herself with every axe throw. The wood was deeply scarred, the spot hit the most without any bark, the light coloured trunk inside showed itself, splintered and shattered from the continuous and uncountable, impetuous blows.

She moved to receive her weapon. The first step was as confident as every one, then the confidence ended.

Suddenly, her legs buckled beneath her, and the next thing she remembered was her looking at the short grass by her face, taking deep breaths, ears filled with buzzing and head spinning. The sweat drop slid off her smooth cheek.

Not good... I forgot to eat and drink properly... for a few days, or sleep... she thought calmly for the first time after Hiccup had defeated another dragon.

She had spent some time with Fleshpetal, listening to his comments, made with a gentle voice. She remembered how she had tried to listen, pretending to be interested.

But all she saw was Hiccup with his sad smile, shield in his hands, closing the door-flap with his boot.

The most amazing golden Viking in the village was spending time with her and she could not even concentrate on Fleshpetal. She just could not do that.

She had to release the sudden anger, everything accumulating in her since her latest lost fight.

Now, pain was the only thing filling her body. A moment of stillness changed it into a quiet hum. It felt good to lie still for a moment even if she knew that training was more important than resting.

Move up Astrid! You can do it! The usual commands flashed in her mind. She could not move. It only hurt. Not only her body, but heart as well. Her dream of doing something for her family was slipping away from her fingers, going farther and farther away.

The only thing she had found at the training was disappointment. How did she end up, being the most promising young warrior, as a second-class addition, constantly defeated... by Hiccup? By the scrawniest, most useless Viking that ever existed!

She hated him at that moment, the foreign feeling burned her and clouded her mind. Such consideration of the boy had never crossed her mind. She only wanted to release her fury. The ferocious girl let out an unbound, short scream, filled with loath and frustration. The only thing she could do.

Feeling completely drained from any energy or hope, her eyes started to close.

She had not been trying hard enough. There was still something she could do, but what? Her useless body did not want to move. It was so pathetic. She felt pathetic, but that would change... right?

I hate you, Hiccup! was her last, bitter thought before her eyes closed, completely seeing the grass blade, standing proudly over her as thin as it was, impassive and unmoving.

She was woken up by a swooshing of leaves. She was lying on bear fur, smelling of soot and old-leather. She slowly opened her eyes and saw that the forest was darkening. It was evening already; she had to hurry before it would get dark.

"How are we?" A male voice asked gently. She turned to see a tall man's figure sitting near her. In fact, he held her head in his lap. That did not make her stir inside however.

"Thank you," she answered, huskily. It was the first thing she wanted to say, "I'm sorry for the trouble," was the second thing that she had to voice.

"I'll take it as a 'I am perfectly fine'?" The man spoke, jokingly, and stroked her hair off her forehead. The weakened girl sat clumsily, supporting her body with hands and looking back at her saviour.

"Thank you, again," Astrid said weakly with a very kind smile. Her head was hurting, together with probably every nail on her body.

A bota appeared near her face, held by a long-fingered hand with white-corded wrists.

"I thought we were done with the thanking already," Fleshpetal said, smiling gloriously and looking with interest at the young woman drinking from the leather-container.

Astrid returned the bota, thanking him for it and stayed sitting. It was time for silence and questions.

She did not want any of those if she could help it. Luckily for her, she did not receive any of those.

"So you thought that going to train alone in the forest was a good idea. It seems as if it wasn't," the tall man said in almost the same confident tone the blonde had just used.

Stating, not asking.

"Yes, looks like I overworked myself a bit," Astrid said softly, trying to stand up. Her body swayed and a hand grabbed her by her waist, helping her keep her balance.

"I warned you this would happen," Fleshpetal's strict voice said, talking in shortly accented words, "You are an adult, so I can't order you what to do, but I can promise you that if you continue to treat your body in this way I will stop teaching you. Is that clear?" He asked in a soldier's fashion.

"Yes, sir," Astrid responded automatically, leaning away from the handsome man.

"Can you walk?" Fleshpetal queried with a changed, affectionate and gentle tone. Keeping on supporting the girl by her waistline. The skirted warrioress did not break the contact, enjoying a helpful company.

"Yes, thank you," she answered, and her golden-haired trainer slid the bear fur on her shoulders. Taking the girl under his arm, he guided her.

They started strolling slowly through the woods. Astrid recognised the place they were in. It was a part of the forest, just nearby the village, the one used by the lumberjacks to get into the woods.

"Why didn't you take me to the healer's home?" She asked, feeling the warmth and enjoyable smell of the man next to her.

"Because I knew how humiliating for you it would be to be carried there," he said smoothly.

Astrid leaned closer to him, letting him know how grateful she was for that.

"I also made you drink water when you were unconscious by putting some in your mouth...by kissing," Fleshpetal said playfully, scratching his nose.

The girl stopped, goggling with terror and feeling her cheeks burn. The young man kept his face straight for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"That face was priceless!" he chuckled in a pearl-rich voice.

Astrid hit his arm lightly, along with the word ,"Jerk!"

That teasing did not help her cheeks cool down, but it helped her mood.

"I like this face," Fleshpetal said with a honesty the girl was not ready for. She looked up to see the man's eyes looking seriously back at her.

It made her even more embarrassed.

I just passed out, I am not acting like myself, she tried to explain her strange behaviour to herself.

"You look like a very fine woman once that ferocious look is off your face, beautiful and charming," the young commander spoke in an alluring voice.

Astrid did not respond, but put her head on the arm-side, firm and strong, letting this gesture speak for her.

She almost never considered herself as a woman. More as a soldier or a warrior. Men were a mystery to her. She knew that boys were attracted to her, but she never answered any of them, concentrated on training and achieving more.

Still, on rare occasions her feminine part woke up in trivial ways she barely noticed, like a desire to always wear a skirt or to comb her hair in a way that a few strands always covered the left side of her face. Completely unpractical and handicapping her vision sometimes, but she liked it. Feeling attractive improved her mood.

Astrid thought about that, and she found it peculiar she did not feel much more when walking with the man she always thought might be the one for her. Her heart beat harder and she flushed when he smiled to her. What woman would not? He was an older friend to her. Somebody she respected and valued deeply. Her mentor and a friend. Why not a lover?

She explained to herself that she needed more time to know Fleshpetal better. That it was due to the training. She did not have a mindset for a romance now. Was it due to stress or to her neglecting behaviour towards her body? Or maybe her period was coming and her mood swings were starting?

She fought with her thoughts until she heard dull sounds beneath her feet. They were at the small wooden bridge, they had reached the village outskirts. A picturesque sawmill located by the small brook babbled quietly, propelling a big squeaking and mossed wheel.

"I am fine now, thank you," Astrid spoke, leaning away from the pleasantly- scented male.

"I could escort you to your home if you like...," Fleshpetal said, eagerness in his voice.

The worn-out girl squeezed his hand, feeling awful to crush the young man's hopes. She was not ready for her parents to meet him and there was a more important reason than that.

"I do not want people to talk about you and me more than they already have. You have your reputation to protect," her face beamed with a soft smile that Fleshpetal could not refuse.

The gossip about them was very intense. The village was not so large, and people fed on the latest news as on every fresh piece of information on the island.

"And so have you," the young man's friendly voice reminded Astrid.

With a swift movement, the girl took off the fur and after folding it, offered it back to the blond-haired man, "Thank you for keeping me warm and thank you for helping me."

Fleshpetal took the coat in one hand and with the other, took out Astrid's axe from beneath his belt.

"I almost forgot about it... thank you for that, as well," the girl said shyly, taking the chopper.

They both stood in the middle of the bridge, both of them silent. The tired girl was confused what a moment of quietness could mean, but it seemed as the man was waiting for something.

Fleshpetal sighed, and with a smirk, he spoke neutrally, making Astrid's eyes widen and her heart beat faster in a vague memory of the other, smaller hands carrying her first. She hoped it was only a prank of her imagination. The problem was in her opinion, she did not have a lot of imagination.

"Madam," he bowed deeply, smiling sadly "I cannot assign all these deeds to myself, because this fur is not mine and it was not me who found you."

Hiccup felt uncomfortable through the whole training-analysis session with Gobber. There were praises, and short talk on how proud he was to have defeated another dragon.

The boy thought his best personal skill would soon be acting and manipulating. It hurt his pride a bit as first, but as the training progressed, he regretted less and less the choices he had made. This excluded Toothless, as he felt the guilt of crippling the dragon was something he would never come to terms with.

His efforts to concentrate and think of the way to control the downed dragon's tail-fin were fruitless.

Fleshpetal gazing at him almost the entire time he had been Mead Hall might have something to do with it.

The meeting ended, and Hiccup squeezed out through the crowd of people, patting and talking to him about things he did not care about. Several older girls asked if he might have a moment to talk to them, marking their not-so-covert intentions with furious eye lashing as if something had dropped into their eyes. Even this was something he slipped through with a quick excuse, not feeling flattered or awarded.

His whole performance with dragons was based on tricks and not on his actual skills. It was a lie and the only thing he cared about then, was for this lie not to get exposed.

His face hardened at the sight of Fleshpetal waiting for him outside. Hiccup expected this and he walked closer.

"Good evening," the taller man greeted, nodding his head.

"Hi," the thoughtful youth said back. He could not pretend this time. He was jealous of the man in front of him solely because he was somebody Astrid was interested in. When thinking about the charming girl, his mind was a twisted into a boiling tub full of desire.

Just add a bit of lust, a pinch of realism and monstrous amounts of fantasies.

They walked towards the docks, going through the street with rows of torches on the both sides, lighting a rocky road.

"How is she?" Hiccup asked, breaking the silence.

"If I told you she's fine, would you believe it?" Fleshpetal asked calmly.

"No, I would not," the answer came with a dark voice.

Hiccup then got what the average Viking would get for pushing his luck with a rude tone and contemptuous behaviour. He was grabbed by his tunic and slammed into the rocky side of the hill that stood by the piers.

"It's very funny you should say that," Fleshpetal said in an unemotional tone. His calm conduct did not indicate he had just made another person lose his breath.

He simply stepped on the youth's small boots without looking down so that said youth could not kick him. On the surface, it seemed he was having a very thoughtful conversation with a valued soul mate.

"It's so funny I can't even laugh," the captivating man continued his speech as calmly as previously. Not once did the tone of his voice change, or his face expression. Even his eyes were a shining pond of calmness. He was full of calculated commiseration instead of anger, and Hiccup hated Fleshpetal much more for that.

"It dropped me into a pit of wonder, how you could act like that. Full of spineless self-pity," Fleshpetal continued, "Helping a woman you have feelings for... and then leaving her with a man who you should consider as your rival."

The scrubby teen did not try to free himself, letting Fleshpetal speak

"Why do you like Astrid?"

Hiccup looked away from the questioning, bright eyes.

"Why are you asking me this?" the boy said quietly, "Shouldn't you be happy with the situation? You got a chance to get closer to the girl you are interested in. It's what she wants anyway and-"

A sharp blow to his face stopped him. It was not a heavy strike which would break his jaw. Only a light punch, but enough to break his lip and make him taste the blood in his mouth. He spat out the blood to the ground, clutching his teeth in anger, but not facing the warrior who had hit him.

Hiccup was mad and the adrenaline hitting his brain was not helping either, yet, he would not look back with fiery eyes.

He must put his feelings for Astrid behind him.

"That's what I find so funny," Fleshpetal continued in unflurried way, "How could a young man, full of passion and courage on a battlefield change so easily into a young boy, full of insecurities and complexes? I asked you why you like- or love her- for a simple reason. Do you actually know anything about her?"

Hiccup's motionless, silent face spoke for him.

"No, you don't get away with that," the young commander said softly, "You act on how you feel without basing your knowledge on facts. It's so different from when you fight dragons. You met me in the woods as I was waiting for her on the path, when you were carrying her back here. And, yet, you set her down on your fur coat. And you let me play the hero. I know why you did it, Hiccup," his hand squeezed the green tunic harder and Fleshpetal's voice darkened.

He would give him a piece of his mind, it was the reason he asked Hiccup here.

They would enjoy a lovely man to man talk with a few honest words and few honest punches.

The punch part was out of the way; it was time for some honest words now, "You're trying to play the hurt altruist. You love her, I could see it all along. You love her deeply, even without knowing almost anything about her. You love her enough to make choices for her good over yours."

Fleshpetal's blue eyes glistened dangerously, and he showed his teeth in wrath, "This is what you are thinking, Hiccup. You think it is for her own good, acting of good will and heart. I'll tell you something young warrior!"

Fleshpetal drew his face closer to Hiccup's, whose green eyes kept staring at the ground, "Fuck your good heart, Hiccup! I have to admit I like this part of you. The closet idealist, dreaming of something more and not accepting the reality in front of your nose. But you never give up your illusions! I just have to be satisfied that your good nature will be your greatest. sorrow. You will always see better in others than yourself, and you will never be happy with who you are."

"I still do not know why you're telling me all this," Hiccup mouthed, "You are interested in her, as you said and you shouldn't bother with me. It is almost as you consider me a worthy rival for her heart."

He sighed, this time clearly speaking to himself "Why do you people keep asking me about her all the time? I have accepted that she will never look at me with an open mind. To her I am a loser. It is only a fact and, as you wisely said, 'I just have to be satisfied my good nature will be my greatest sorrow', " Hiccup took a glance up into Fleshpetal's eyes for a moment and then averted his gaze, suddenly feeling an unexpected new pity for the perfect man in front of him.

The blond man took a deep breath, clutching his teeth in rage.

Hiccup only needed one look at him to know the reason for all this speech. Fleshpetal saw himself in the scrawny young man before him, and that was the real source of his anger.

Both of them were too intelligent and empathic and both of them would never truly fit in.

The difference was, the handsome male adapted to what Berk expected of young Viking men. He tried to block his feelings and marched as the culture dictated, selling his values, regardless of how much pain and misery it brought. Hiccup, on the other hand, had wound up almost being proud of being different. And he was becoming a successful dragon warrior!

Hiccup could see all of it in one short look, so why did he not not see what Astrid was going through?

Fleshpetal knew the answer to that. It was painful how obvious the world seemed to be, and this only brought more questions and doubts, he only saw more ugliness in people's actions and the utter nonsense of the world.

The weedy teen could only see things as they were without having an emotional attachment to it. In another way, he let his view of the obvious truth be clouded by his self-disdain and lack of confidence.

How strongly had Astrid reacted after Fleshpetal had told her that it was not he who had rescued her! She had demanded him to answer if it had been Hiccup. She was almost hysterical when he confirmed that. It seemed to justify all that stress she had been showing, a feeling that almost choked her. If it went on like this, the beautiful girl would lose herself to the obsessive state that she yet did not recognise or was able to control.

He wanted to get some wit into the boneless boy before Astrid got hurt even more.

"I won't renounce Astrid," Fleshpetal said, as if trying to convince himself of the outcome of this situation, which his mind already provided him was a fake one.

"I hope you won't," Hiccup uttered, looking away, still with an attitude devoid of any care or heart.

It broke the last remnants of the blond-haired man's calmness. This time he would punch without any reserve...!

"I'm afraid I won't let you do that," the boy spoke in a clear voice as Fleshpetal raised his hand halfway up to strike the scrawny youth.

"And how would you do that?" he asked, clutching his palm.

Hiccup turned his head to face his captor, with an expression the well-favoured man Fleshpetal admired. Hiccup's gaze was now strong and fierce, same as heroes wore on the battlefield.

"Since we have started this conversation did you know you had a dagger by your stomach?" the teen said, his green eyes surprisingly dangerous, mimicking Fleshpetal's tranquilised manner, "If you don't believe me, just can look down."

The experienced warrior put a smuggish smirk on his face. He would not fall for the oldest trick in the book or indulge himself in a pointless talk for the youth to buy time. If he looked down, he would get hit. He would punch that kid and nothing would stop him.

Except a half elbow of sharp iron stinging the skin on his belly.

Fleshpetal had to look down to check it was not an illusion. He looked briefly to his belt and saw a dagger shining dangerously in Hiccup's small hand. He looked back into the boy's shining green eyes. There was no way that inept teen could have sneakily taken out a weapon when he held him. Fleshpetal would have spotted any movement of his hands reaching to his belt or boot, where daggers were usually hidden.

And yet... Hiccup had outsmarted him.

"Can you let me go, please?" Hiccup said, digging in the dagger tip make his pledge more persuadable.

It did not matter how the modest lad had done it.

The young commander felt tired suddenly. There was no getting through to this person.

With a swift move he released the boy and stepped back.

Hiccup, as if nothing happened, opened his vest and hid the dagger in the lower pocket. He then straightened his vest and looked blankly at the ground as if afraid of what he had done. He had won against Fleshpetal, a fight without a challenge or duel.

"I told her it was you who found and carried her," the handsome man spoke clearly.

For the first time this evening Hiccup's face showed surprise and anger. Fleshpetal also saw some hope in his eyes, which quickly disappeared, only leaving a glossy and pretended indifference. It was the only satisfaction the sizeable warrior would have that evening.

"In case you haven't noticed, not all Vikings are selfish and self-glorifying. Some of us have pointlessly good hearts," he grinned honestly to the boy, "Something tells me you might know a bit about trying to help everybody except yourself," he looked at Hiccup, acknowledging he would not receive any answer.

"I will meet you on the battlefield, young one," Fleshpetal said in a deep voice and started walking up the path.

The boy finally let out a breath and allowed his body to tremble. He had been afraid the whole time he was held, and the words the older warrior had spoken haunted his mind.

He had done what he thought would be best. He had heard a short, petrifying yell as he was walking back home and he rushed to help. He saw Astrid on what seemed to be her training place and carried her towards her home. Leaving her under Fleshpetal's care was a good choice.

What had the forceful man insinuated? That he was hurting the girl he cared about? How?

She did not like him winning, but he would continue to do so.

For the dragons. It seemed as if he almost said that... that he was hurting Astrid's feelings, but that was impossible! He never had meant anything to the beauty and he would never mean anything to her.

If this was a way for Fleshpetal to make him aware to step back from Astrid, he had already well gotten his point across. He really did not need to stir Hiccup's feelings and make him hope just when he tried to forget about his unachievable love, because... because Astrid was... who exactly?

Bastard. Fishpetal had made him hope again, and his mind already provided him with scenarios and possible outcomes of what was in Astrid's mind. He would not be able to silence these thoughts. It was the one thing out of his control. If only he could stop thinking for a moment.

Hiccup had spotted a change in Fleshpetal's walking and had seen his neck muscles, as well as his hands, grow tense, ready to attack.

Hiccup had had only a split moment to take out his dagger and hide it in his sleeve, right before he was smashed to the wall.

"At least your game came in handy Toothless," he expressed ironically, wiping his mouth with his arm.

He swiped with a hand through his hair and then stopped, looking at the dark ocean and the ships sailing on it.

The ships with their magnificent sails, pulled up and down by an ingenious system of ropes and pulleys.

Well!

Hiccup realized, looking at the ships on the ocean, that he had just been given an idea how to control the tailfin.

AN: I am really not satisfied with this chapter. A total drama, but yeah character development and such...There are too many things I want to show in my characters I guess. I am happy I explained to some people how comes people wake up at the same time without using the clock (biological clock is a good answer to it as well).

Comments are welcome if you find this chapter boring or not. Until the next chapter.