Standard Disclaimer: This is not an official sequel to IHHS.


"It all comes out in the wash."


We dropped down in the open center of 'Berk' (as Hiccup wants me to call it), in the area shaped like a square and surrounded by the human 'trading' nests. We were met by many curious eyes and even more roars of approval. The landing was heavier than I had intended, and a small part of my mind spoke up. Great, now your landings are as bad as Hiccup's.

It was easy to ignore. A wide smile that hadn't left my lips since we began our return flight greeted our flare. I was riding a huge, post-flight high that I don't think has ever been this strong before, except maybe after my first flight as a hatchling, so it took several minutes before I noticed the lack of weight on my back. I glanced around, only now paying attention to the excited chatter of the nest; I spotted a tuft of brown fur under the chin of the young Flame-Skin from our flare, his red-purple scales blocking everything else from view. From the looks of it, the excitable dragon had tackled Hiccup and began shooting questions rapid-fire, apparently forgetting that Hiccup wouldn't understand them. The green Little-Biter was on the Flame-Skin's back, curled around one of his spines as it did the same. I guess it's an improvement from constantly jumping on Hiccup's shoulder whenever it got the chance.

Chuckling, I trotted over until I was standing right in front of them. With a low grumble to catch the larger dragon's attention, I interrupted his inquisition. "You do know that he can't understand you anymore, right? And that you can't understand him, either?"

Eyes widening when he realized he was standing on top of his Savior, he jumped back and bowed, quickly exclaiming his apologies. I must have imagined the scales on his cheeks getting slightly redder. Dragons don't blush.

A very bewildered Hiccup was still on the ground while the Flame-Skin slumped away, slowly getting up, patting his fake furs to get the dirt off, and turning to me afterwards. "What was that about?"

Moving my neck in front of him so he could steady himself on his metal paw, I took a moment to find the words to answer. "He's curious."

A few chuckles escaped him, only to turn into full blown laughter when I gave him a quick slap with my wingtip. "I couldn't tell!"

I decided to give him an exaggerated eye roll this time rather than work him up even more.

Calming himself down, but still chuckling, he looked around at the excited stares the nest was still giving us. "Is that all?"

Tapping my paw on the ground three times, a motion that Hiccup had me make early on for moments where the language barrier was really making life difficult, I clarified. "Yes. They all are. About… flying."

Looking around once again, his face lit up like it usually does when he has an idea doomed to crash and fall like we did earlier today (and for the last seven days, for that matter). "Translate for me?"

Releasing a loud sigh, I reluctantly nodded. I should have known this was coming. Ever since he turned back into a human, I would have to speak to the nest for both of us. Only the eldest Hum-Wing is as familiar with human speech as I am, and the rest range somewhere from 'pretty good' understanding to complete ignorance. The young Flame-Skin, for example, is completely ignorant.

Thus, we developed this slipshod system where he can tell the nest anything but they can only tell him the basics. For instance, it took three whole days for me to get him to understand why those arrogant birds he calls 'messenger hawks' were disappearing. Needless to say the human King wasn't happy to hear that they were being eaten. Hiccup quickly fixed the issue, of course, but it still took frustratingly long to figure out the problem and to tell (and then convince) the nest to stop eating them – especially the Two-Walkers. I still don't understand why Vikings need birds to speak to each other when they can just scream their heads off like always. There are some things I'll never understand about humans.

Hiccup brought my attention back to our nest mates with his first soon-to-be translated tidbit. "Alright then, tell them, uh… tell them I made a tail fin out of leather and metal so you could fly."

I spoke in a loud voice so all could hear me, and once I had finished, I swung my tail in a slow circle to show off the new appendage.

Many murmurs broke out among the nest as they tried to get a better look at it. The young Flame-Skin got the chance to sniff it and flashed his flames in a flurry of excitement.

"No!"

Quickly retreating, he turned to look at Hiccup's raised arms and worried expression. The rest of the nest followed his gaze, myself included.

"I mean, um," he stammered, searching for an explanation. "It's, uh, not fireproof."

Oh. I looked at the artificial fin with a raised eyebrow, not knowing how to feel about having a flammable body part. The few dragons who could understand him before I translated reacted in much the same way I did, soon to be followed by the rest of the nest.

The strange silence that had settled over us didn't last very long after the young Flame-Skin's face lit up and he bolted to my side (Little-Biter still in tow), pointing at the saddle. "What's that?"

Hiccup, not needing a translation, took no time in his reply. "Oh! That's the saddle I made. Toothless can't move the new tail fin on his own, so I sit on that while I move it for him!"

By the time I had finished translating, Hiccup was already on my back, clicking his metal paw into place but not strapping in like he would before a takeoff. He gave me a meaningful stare, and I soon realized what he wanted me to do. Lifting my tail up like last time, I let the leather dangle while I flapped my natural tailfin open and closed, to emphasize that I couldn't move the other. Then, in a motion more for demonstration than actual flying, Hiccup began flapping the new one open and closed, his metal paw matching its movements. Everyone watched with extreme interest as the leather followed Hiccup's commands and not my own.

A female Two-Head spoke next, completing each other's sentences as the more synchronized ones often do.

"So you cannot fly-" the left head began,

"-without each other?" the right finished.

Noticing her orange scales and old age, I soon recognized her as the one who healed our magic when we first returned to the nest ages ago, before that Prebirth-bound monster enslaved Hiccup. I quickly turned my thoughts away from the past in order to keep my composure in front of the nest.

I puffed out my chest in pride. "That's right."

I only realized Hiccup had fallen off my back when I heard the thud on the ground behind me. Most of the nest broke out into laughter, and I could almost feel my cheeks getting warmer.

Hiccup groaned as he pushed himself to his knees. "Ow."

Turning around to help him up and hopefully hiding my embarrassed grin, I let him grab my neck again as he slowly steadied himself onto a shaky stand. He said he's almost used to his metal paw, but I can tell he's still having trouble adjusting.

"And that's why I always strap in when we fly." He gave me a weak glare after finally finding his footing.

I returned an apologetic croon followed by the two words I've found myself using more often than ever, my eyes meeting his when I did.

I wasn't expecting the link to spark to life like a dull ember catching a breeze.

I was flooded with images of flight, concentration, and the lingering feelings of freedom and happiness that I just knew I was returning. Beneath it, though, there seemed to be a much more recent feeling of uncertainty, less than a minute old. My confusion didn't last long, and I immediately pushed all my regret and apology to the forefront of my mind when I saw what was making him nervous. This was the first time Hiccup has fallen off my back outside of the test flights.

How could I have been so careless?

Breaking eye contact, I leaned over and pressed my forehead against his, letting out an apologetic purr and saying those same two words. "I'm sorry."

After a dreadful moment of stillness, he lightly returned the gesture. "It's alright."

Pulling away, I sighed in relief when I saw the grin on his face.

It wasn't until he started whispering in my ear that I saw the hint of mischief in it. "But if it happens again, you don't get sauce for a week."

He laughed when I miserably failed my unfazed expression. It's not my fault though. Of all the human 'inventions', as Hiccup calls them, 'sauce' is definitely the best. Well, after my tail, of course, but that doesn't count. If there's one reason besides Hiccup for me to stay around the humans, 'sauce' is definitely it. Most of the nest hasn't tried it yet – and that definitely has nothing to do with the time I spit it out in front of them and pretended to hate it – but that just means more for me!

Hiccup and I both noticed the silence around us when he finished laughing. Hopefully the others didn't catch the bit about the sauce. My eyes widened when I realized we had just done what looked like a seal of trust before them.

Hiccup didn't seem to catch on at first either, looking around in brief confusion until his eyes widened too. "Wait, where is everyone?"

"What?" I asked, not expecting the question, or for that to be the source of his confusion. "We're all here," I said. Wasn't that obvious?

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I mean the villagers. The town square is usually packed this time of day." He paused for a moment before gasping in dread. "Does that mean I'll have to explain all this again?"

I glanced around, just as surprised as he was. "Where are all the humans?" I asked no one in particular.

The elder Hum-Wing immediately answered. "They all went to the stone nest. I heard someone mention an 'urgent message'. Everyone seemed a bit panicked, so I don't think the humans knew what was going on, either. When the King announced that there would be a meeting, all the humans followed him up the hill."

I raised an eyebrow at the humans' strange way of gathering, but didn't say anything about it. After all, it could just be a Viking thing, not a human thing. Hiccup taught me the difference a while ago, letting me know that not all humans are as crazy as these ones. I guess it's not entirely their fault, but fighting fire with fire will only get them so far now that the raids are over. Deciding to think about it later, I shrugged, turning to Hiccup to tell him where the humans went.

He froze, eyes widening further as a weak fear scent began to drift from him. "There's a meeting going on? Right now?!" He jumped into action and rushed in the direction of the hill, our nest-mates parting to let him through as he did. "I'll see you later Toothless! This is probably important!"

As I watched Hiccup climb up the hill and enter the mountain, my mind wandered back to the link we had just shared. I tried to make out that familiar feeling. The bond was a little stronger than it was the last time, almost as if it were just barely being aided by a new source of magic. I turned over the possibilities in my mind. There's no doubt that our minds are now free, so it can't be someone else's doing. I don't think it's my magic, and I know it can't be Hiccup's; Hiccup may have been a Shadow-Blender once, but humans don't have magic. I guess that leaves… the Gods? I shook my head, just as confused as I was when I started.

That's probably a question only time will answer.