XX. It ends today

Gobber had never been very good at swimming, especially since he had lost his hand and foot. But when Astrid had fallen into the water while trying to release the Deadly Nadder, and when the blacksmith had understood she wouldn't resurface till the dragon was free, he hadn't taken any time to think. He had dived.

The flames raging above the surface were making a flush of red lighting the bottom of the water, enough to allow him to see where he was going, despite the pieces of wood regularly falling inside it.

A few meters in front of him, Astrid was pulling the Nadder's chains, being carried to the bottom of the water because of the weight of the structure keeping him captive. Gobber saw her get done with the first rope, and felt a slight relief inside him. Which he immediately forgot when he noticed that the girl wasn't moving anymore. He wanted to catch up with her, but he realized – too late – that the air was missing in his lungs. He unintentionally breathed in, swallowed water, panicked, and got his head out of the water in the nick of time, spitting and coughing. The tears were filling in his eyes, water was flowing out of his nose, and he had a horrible taste of salt on his tongue. He tried to calm down and coughed to spit the water from his hurting throat, aware that he absolutely had to dive again. Then he took a deep breath, and prayed to the gods to have time to catch Astrid before lacking air again.

His eyes were atrociously smarting, but he had to keep them open. He swam toward Astrid – well, moved in the water, his helter-skelter movements couldn't really be qualified as swimming – and caught her by her clothes and carried her to the surface. A few seconds later, he got out of the ocean, and put the unconscious body of the girl on a rock. Her left arm was in a poor state – a mix of blisters, wounds and scratches more or less serious – and her face also had a few burns on it, but superficial ones, hopefully. The blacksmith thought about a way to get all the water she had probably swallowed out of her, and gave a punch in the girl's thorax. He didn't know at all if it was too hard, or not enough, nor if he had hit her on the right point, but it seemed to work, since the young girl immediately spat out a spray of water, and coughed. Reassured, Gobber sat down next to her and helped her to sat up, putting a hand in her back.

"I-na-er." Astrid hardly articulated between two hiccups.

"What?"

"Mmmy… a-er!" She repeated.

"Astrid, I don't understand anything…"

"Nn… NAD-DER!" she shouted.

The Nadder! For gods' sake, he had forgotten about him!

"Oh! He… I'm going!" Gobber exclaimed before he dived again.

He swam toward the dragon and noticed that, strangely, the animal seemed to be conscious. Could he actually breath under water? But it wasn't really the moment to question such things, and the Vikings decided to investigate that later.

He perfectly knew the Deadly Nadder's harness – he had made it himself – and in less than a few seconds, the dragon was free. He used his wings to get to the surface, catching the Viking on his way. The two emerged from the sea, under the relieved look of an Astrid who hadn't totally recovered from her drowning yet.

The dragon left Gobber on the beach, and came closer to Astrid, showing his joy by licking her face. The blacksmith observed the scene, pensive.

He had never thought a dragon could get such attached to a person. At that moment, the animal seemed totally harmless, and Gobber managed to understand how Astrid might be feeling. And how Hiccup himself might had been feeling too.

The Deadly Nadder turned his head to him, and the look he gave him made Gobber think he was right. Indeed, he could swear he read gratitude in his eyes. He had received those silent thanks, wondering if he would have still saved the Nadder even if Astrid hadn't fallen with him. He had thought about it, he had felt a bit guilty, but he wasn't sure it would have been enough for him to decide. No.

The Nadder's thanks should go to Astrid, not to him. But it didn't really matter. He understood now.

"Gobber?" Astrid shyly called.

Her voice was husky. She cleared her throat. The blacksmith moved closer.

"Thank you."

He smiled, not finding anything to answer. Her thanks were the simplest ones, but the happiness he could see in the girl's eyes meant everything.

Helped by her dragon, Astrid stood up. The pain was seizing her body. She couldn't even make out the difference between the pain due to the physical effort and the pain coming from possible wounds. Even breathing hurt, both because of the smoke and dust, and the salt water she had swallowed. She coughed, but it only made it worse.

Gobber came and supported her on the other side.

"Come on, we'll join the others, over there." He said, showing the side of the mountain with his head.

Astrid quietly nodded. She didn't want to go there. She didn't want to leave Hiccup alone, now she had found back her dragon and could help him. She had what she could call a plan; she thought she would free the Nadder, and then immediately go to fight the Queen, with Hiccup. When he had almost ordered her to "stay in a safe place, whatever happens", she had nodded, knowing perfectly well that if she really wanted to help him, she shouldn't tell him. But right now, considering her state, she knew she couldn't be strong enough anymore. She was feeling very guilty, because she knew she was the only one able to help him. But she also knew that in her state – and her dragon's too, who wasn't feeling the best either – she wasn't sure at all she could still call that help. Hiccup already had his own life and his dragon's to save, she didn't want to make it worse.

That was why, when she saw them flying above her, she only gave Hiccup a little gesture and a smile which meant "everything's all right, don't worry about me and go fight the dragon". The boy smiled back, and the second after they had already disappeared behind the clouds, followed by the Queen.

Astrid sighed. Now, all she had to do was trust them. And hope.

So, the Viking started to limp again toward the villagers, helped by both her Nadder and Gobber. An abnormal pain was running along her leg; it wasn't preventing her from walking but several times, it almost made her fall. As for the blacksmith, he seemed to be on form despite some burns, but it didn't surprise Astrid. He was a warrior. A true one. One like she had dreamt to become when she was younger, if the gender wasn't taken into account. But now, she didn't know anymore, how she wanted to be. The figure of the intrepid and dragon-killing Viking had been modified by Hiccup; she could forget everything about her evolution plans. Even if she supposed that her abilities in fighting and her quick reactions would be useful one day, sometimes she felt a bit lost. So many years spent working on one single objective which wasn't making any more sense today…

"Gobber! You all right!"

Stoick had caught up with his friend the moment he had recognized his figure. The two men briefly hugged, only half relieved to know the other was fine since they both knew how resistant they were.

Astrid walked away discreetly with her Nadder, and sat behind a pile of rocks. She was avoiding Stoick. She was avoiding everybody. Plus, the fact that the villagers hadn't admitted yet the idea of taming dragons had come back into her mind, and she wasn't sure about their reaction toward the Deadly Nadder. Even after such a fight, she wouldn't have been surprised if they were still angry at the dragons. She didn't want to take the risk anyway.

She still gave a quick look at the crowd – most Vikings had collapsed on the ground or against the rocks – and searched for her parents. They didn't know she was there. And it was better that way. But she was worried about them. She quickly observed the crowd, but didn't find the faces she wanted to see.

They may be a bit further, she forced herself to think.

But she couldn't help but looking on the other side, toward the desolate landscape of the beach. She looked around for something she didn't want to see. And that she didn't see. She let out a false sigh of relief. She could only pray for them to be safe now.

"Where has Astrid gone?" Stoick asked. "She was right there and…"

Gobber looked around him. He hadn't even heard her going away.

"She's fine." he simply answered, and the chief didn't ask for the details.

Stoick didn't want to see her either. He wasn't mad at her. No. He was mad at himself. Because he had just understood, and he wasn't feeling ready at all to face her anger, the most legitimate one.

"Any wounded persons?" Gobber asked, and he immediately reproached himself for the stupid question.

Stoick didn't even answer, he just showed the crowd. The most lucky ones, like Gobber and Stoick, had only a few burns. The other ones… They would recover. With a limb or an eye missing sometimes, but they would recover. They were used to it.

"You know, Stoick, I think that…"

"This is all my fault. I know."

Gobber's silence sounded like an accusation, which was weighing a lot more on the chief's shoulders than if they had been told by anyone else.

"I wanted to be a good chief." he continued. "I wanted to send the dragons running, I thought we could do this. If I had known…"

"We all make mistakes."

This sentence resounded with a kind of sympathy which surprised Stoick.

"And I think the biggest mistake you've made isn't bringing the village here, but not listening to your son."

"That's the same thing." the chief retorted.

"No, there's an important difference." Gobber insisted. "The village will recover. Look at them, they're safe and sound, barely more affected than after an ordinary dragons attack at the village."

He paused, so Stoick could see he was telling the truth.

"They all volunteered, when you asked them to go. We were all behind you, that's been our only aim since we were born, killing dragons."

He might not be wrong, the chief thought. The villagers didn't seem to be angry at him; they were considering this incident as a part of their Viking life. Maybe they would even be proud to tell this story to their grand-children.

"But about your son, that's different. He won't get out of this unhurt."

That was true. The real problem was here. Hiccup had never been a real Viking, Stoick had always known it. He wasn't taking things the same way as others; he was more sensitive, more vulnerable. But this particularity qualified as a weakness by Vikings had finally been his strength. He had managed to see where the real problem was. He had managed to see further than the principles the others were simply following. He had understood the real nature of the dragons.

But he hadn't managed to get himself heard. Well, the Vikings hadn't listened to him. Stoick especially. And now, his son was paying the price of it.

The chief suddenly realized how far this had gone. He had made everything wrong. He thought his son was putting his own life at risk by wanting to tame the dragons, and that was why he had tried to prevent him from doing this. But he shouldn't have done that; he had put Hiccup in a way more dangerous situation.

And the worst thing about this was that it wasn't the first time.

He collapsed on the ground and held his head in his hands. The blacksmith sat beside him.

"You think he'll forgive me one day?" Stoick asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"For that, he should first come out of this alive."

Stoick felt he had been hit right in his heart. Gobber had intentionally put words on this fear he refused to admit.

After this, none of the men spoke anymore. They just kept sitting there, way too preoccupied by Hiccup's fate to worry about anything else.

I was wheeling around in the air, thinking about a way to kill the big dragon. The Vikings panicking were running around him, and it seemed to really annoy him. I had to do something. But my experience in dragon fighting had never taught me how to kill such a beast. What could be his weak spot? He obviously had one. I remembered what Gobber had said one day, about the tail and the wings, which you had to target first since it was what allowed them to fly away.

"A downed dragon is a dead dragon."

But in this case, I wasn't sure it was the best solution. Indeed, the beast was so big that it was destroying everything, intentionally and unintentionally, and prevent it from flying certainly wouldn't make things up. I rather had to keep it away from the villagers, and for that I had to make it fly.

I was interrupted in my thoughts when I saw the dragon breathing a fire which lit everything on its way, until the ships, though they were quite far from it.

The ships. The Nadder.

Astrid.

I wanted to make sure she was fine. Then I saw Gobber, running toward the sea to avoid ending up carbonized. My father, who was moving around down there. And all the other villagers running to the back of the mountain, hoping to be in a safe place. But from where I was, I knew better than anyone that the beast only had to turn back and see them to charge. They weren't safe anywhere. Unless I managed to keep the dragon away from them.

I made my decision. I couldn't help everybody, so I would try to overpower the danger at its source.

To drag the dragon in the air, I first had to catch his attention. I told my Night Fury to fly down, right at the beast. When we were close enough, Toothless struck. Then we flew up in front of the dragon, so that he could clearly see what had attacked him. He tottered a few seconds, unbalanced and surprised, and then looked at us in a menacing way. Toothless attacked him a second time. Then a third one. The dragon was getting angry. It was working.

But not exactly the way I had expected it. He breathed fire with anger, everywhere around him. I regretted I had made things worse, and decided to directly go with the second step of my plan.

I lead Toothless in front of the dragon. I couldn't help but look down though, where the ships were. I saw Astrid with her dragon and Gobber. They didn't seem to be wounded. Astrid gave him a gesture and a smile. "Everything's fine", she seemed to be saying. I smiled back. I knew where to find the energy I needed now.

I went back to flying. Toothless and I gained altitude, rushing toward the mist. I waited. And turned back. The dragon had followed us. So we continued our rush into the middle of the huge cloud. Still further. Still higher.

I was scared. But I also knew that whatever would happen, I wouldn't regret what I was about to do. I knew I wouldn't die in vain. Yes, I was being realistic; I was risking my life. And my dragon's too. But I knew it was what I had to do.

I felt the threat coming closer behind us. I didn't know yet how I would manage to kill this thing, but I'd find a way. And all this would finally be over.

Yes. No matter how this ended, it ended today.