AN: The first thing I need to say is sorry for missing last week. My internet crashed, rats were discovered in the walls of the house, and I've got a Japanese AP test coming up so I'm understandably excited, nervous, and stressed. However, the internet is back now (the rats nibbled through an essential cable which has been replaced), so here is the next chapter.

REVIEWS:

Vognar-The Legendkeep: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, but you must still be curious if you're reading this. Hope it lives up to your expectations.

Stardust333 (Reviewing on ch4): Don't know if you've got this far yet, but I totally approve of the capitalisation of Not fun.

Tim2060: I found your filler review mildly entertaining and hope to recieve a full one some time in the future.

Onto the story!

I got my path

In the forge, I flipped my notebook open to the incomplete drawing of Toothless. There were several other drawings, some of them with colour, but that one was the one I drew when I could actually see what I was drawing, so it was going to be the most accurate. I needed accurate.

Carefully adding in the missing tail fin, I considered the shape carefully. Toothless had bones in his tail that slanted sideways, so I could use steel rods for those. The actual membrane would have to be made out of leather, there was nothing else light enough that wouldn't rip apart in the air.

It took me a while to find the leather, and in the process I found a couple of other things that were very useful. The round heads of old shield nails fixed into little cups gave a far greater range of motion than normal joints: up, down, left and right, instead of just up and down. Parts of failed experiments gave me metal that Gobber wouldn't miss—he always thought I threw away my mistakes. While I was crawling under my small table in search of my hammer—the thing knew when I wanted it!—I found a large sheet of leather, good quality and big enough for what I wanted.

It took about two hours to forge and cool and assemble the metal skeleton of the fin, and by the time I'd cut out the leather and stitched it on, I had about four hours left until Dragon Training. Scrubbing tiredly at my eyes, I tucked the fin under my small table, and rested my head on the cool surface, just for a moment…

Long story short, Gobber wasn't very impressed when he found me in the morning.

oOoOo

I would have gone to visit Toothless before Dragon Training, but I overslept and Gobber had to come looking for me. He scowled at me the whole time we were running from the Gronckle—we'd 'failed' that lesson because he had to intervene, so he was making us do it again—and when the lesson was finished, he simply gave us our homework and left.

"This is going to be great!" Snotlout cackled, rubbing his hands together. "I'm gonna get everyone!"

Clutching my small scrap of lemon yellow fabric, I sighed. There was no way I was going to be able to keep hold of it till next week, let alone snatch anyone else's. I carefully tucked it into my belt, then turned and walked away. I stopped momentarily to push the scrap of fabric into a small gap in the wall—if any of the teens were following me to try and get an easy point they would leave me alone now—and hurried to the forge, stopping by the storehouse at the back of the Great Hall to collect a basket of fish for Toothless. He ate fish yesterday, I reasoned, he must tolerate it, at least.

The fin was where I'd left it, neatly stored under my table. I dragged it out, panting a little. I hoped the dimensions were right, otherwise I'd have to start all over again. Hoisting the heavy basket onto my back, I staggered a little, then regained my balance. The door opened silently on well oiled hinges when I nudged it with the fin. I smiled, pleased with the quietness, and promptly knocked over a pile of half-mended weapons, wincing at the incredibly loud clatter. Without waiting to see if anyone had heard it, I tore out the back and raced into the woods.

The trees were tall and proud, staring down at me in disapproval. I could practically feel their eyes burning into my back. "Yeah, so I befriended a dragon!" I yelled at them once I was far enough away from the village. "That's not your problem!" They gave me the silent treatment.

Shaking my head, I quietly walked through the trees, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching me. The entrance to the cove was well hidden, and it took me a good half hour to find it. Eventually, the faded red shield caught my eyes, and I squeezed through. The basket of fish was bulkier than me, and for a moment I feared it wouldn't fit and I'd have to carry the fish through one by one. The rocks gave one last effort to hold onto the basket, then I popped through, falling onto my knees because of the sudden lack of resistance. Dusting my pants off, I stood up and started looking for Toothless.

"Hey, Toooothless!" I called, and he stood up immediately, lightly balanced on his toes in the corner of the cove next to the waterfall. "I brought breakfast. I hope you're hungry."

The basket slipped off my shoulders and crashed to the ground, and the catch sprung open, spilling slimy fish across the ground. "Okay, that's disgusting."

Toothless hovered around the pile, obviously considering the fish, but wary of me. I backed away slowly, keeping up a steady stream of chatter to calm my nerves. If anyone from the village came across this…

"Uh… we've got some salmon, some nice Icelandic cod," I spotted the black and yellow stripes of an eel, considered a delicacy by most Vikings, though I didn't like it. "And a whole smoked eel."

Toothless backed away from the pile of fish, a low snarl rumbling in his throat. My heart jumped, not a surprise when next to an aggressive predator, and I forced my nerves down with effort. He hadn't hurt me yet. Even now, the menacing behaviour was focused more at my feet. I bent down, trying to see what was wrong. His snarling rose in volume when my hand came near the eel, and I picked up the snake-like thing by its tail, holding it tightly to stop it from slipping out of my grasp. Toothless' snarl turned into a growl as I held it out to him, his wings rising in a defensive motion.

"No, no, no, no! It's okay!" I hurriedly tossed the eel away, the slimy thing landing a few metres away from us, and he slowly started to calm down. I held my hand out carefully. He backed away, hissing. Slime coated my fingers, and even I—with my pathetic human nose—could smell the unwelcome eel-ish scent. I hurriedly wiped it off on my vest and backed away a few steps, and Toothless went back to the fish, ignoring me. He ate quickly, almost desperately, and when I remembered how hungry he'd been, I couldn't blame him.

"Are you sure you should eat that fast?" I tried to make conversation as I watched him eat, quietly stepping backwards to get at his tail. "It can't be good for you."

The dragon gave me a look that clearly said, I know what I'm doing, get your nose out of my life. Shrugging, I turned back to his tail. "Fine, don't mind me. I'll just be back here, minding my own business."

The fin was almost as tall as me, so I had some trouble arranging it next to Toothless' remaining tail fin. When I finally got it into place, the tail moved—not far, but just enough to be annoying. I looked at Toothless as he tossed a fish into the air and ate it as though he hadn't noticed what I was doing. That was good. I pushed the fin forwards, putting it next to his tail. Before I'd finished, he moved it again, flapping a little. I moved the fin, shuffling forwards to get into a better position, and he lifted his tail up into the air, grumbling slightly at me.

"It's okay," I reassured him, patting his tail. When on Midgard had I gotten so bold?! Yesterday I was terrified to be within two metres of the Night Fury, and now I'd given him a name and wasn't afraid to touch him!

I leant on Toothless' tail with both hands and tried to hold it still. He easily dragged me around, so I put one knee on it. Keeping up his innocent act, Toothless lurched backwards—well, forwards for him—and I almost face planted in the dirt.

It was on! I took advantage of a moment of stillness, and sat down on his tail, so that if he moved he'd take me with him. Finally attaching the first buckle around his tail, I pulled the strap tight, but hopefully not too tight. His tail was slender at the base, thicker than my arm but thinner than Snotlout's, and even narrower at the tip. Thankfully, he stopped moving when I finished the first buckle, so the second one was a lot easier. He even spread his real tail fin out so that I could compare them.

"That's not too bad." I'd been blessed with extreme luck by Hamingja it seemed, because the fin I'd made was almost identical in size to the real one. "It works."

Suddenly, and with no warning at all, the ground was speeding away from me quickly. And when I say quickly, I mean faster-than-Thor's-lightning kind of speeds.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" I seemed to be screaming quite a lot the past few days, and I'd hate to miss the day's quota. "No! No no no!"

I clung onto the tail for dear life, squeezing with both my arms and legs but still feeling horribly precarious. We started out fine—as far as I could tell with both eyes tightly shut—but something went wrong and we plummeted towards the ground. I opened my eyes frantically and the world was murky white again—no dragons in sight except for the crazy one beneath me.

"Whoooooooooooooaaaaaaaaa!" The two fins in front of me weren't symmetrical; one was firmly held open, but my one flapped pathetically in the wind, almost fully closed. A wave of nausea washed over me, my stomach tight, and I almost closed my eyes again. But we were heading straight for the ground, so I pulled my hand away from the tail, resisting the almost irresistible urge to cling on tightly, and yanked the fin open.

I have no idea what I did, but it stopped us from hitting the ground though my feet stirred up a cloud of dust as they skimmed the cove's bottom. Instead, we were heading straight up, which left me hanging almost upside down on Toothless' tail. Despite blood rushing to my head and my airsickness—who knew that dragons could be as bad as boats—the flight was incredible. Wind blew my hair in every direction, pushing and shoving against my skin in a rough sort of caress. Without the thin strand of gravity holding me down, I felt so free, like I was leaving all my problems down on the ground.

Toothless started to head towards the village, incredibly detailed but devoid of colour, so I yanked the tail fin up randomly, and we banked away from it. Thor, it was incredible. We plunged downwards again, but it was more controlled that time, and Toothless expertly skimmed the surface of the pond. Now I realised why the Night Fury was never seen—he was a suburb flyer. Even with an incopetent runt like me on his tail, he could do things I'd never seen other dragons do. The exhilaration bubbled up in my heart, easily pushing the queasy feeling aside, until I couldn't contain it any longer.

"OH, MY—IT'S WORKING! YES! YES, I DID IT!" In hindsight, that was a touch arrogant and really stupid.

Toothless turned sharply, sending me cartwheeling into the pond.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaggghhh!"

I sank, swallowing water, remembered how to swim and struggled to the surface, blinking madly. At some point, the world changed from murky white to wet colour.

"Yeah!"

Coughing and trying to clear the water from my nose, I emerged from the water just in time to get soaked again by the enormous splash Toothless created. He swam to the shore and climbed out, shaking the water off his skin with a small grumbling sound.

"Oh, come on, that was totally your fault," I protested, Toothless turning his back on me. "I had that tail fin under control until you threw me off."

Still complaining, he flamed the ground and curled up, his tail over his face. I frowned—the leather might be good quality, but even the best leather could spoil if it was left wet. I tried to get closer to him, but before I was within five paces, he snarled at me. I froze in place.

"Could I have that back, please?" Another snarl. Getting annoyed, I took a step closer. Toothless growled, curling up tighter on his spot. "Look, I only have so much leather, and if you ruin that I might never be able to get you back up in the air."

He finally looked at me, tilting his head to one side, and made a weird half-warble-half-moan sound. Encouraged, I continued, "Obviously, you need a way to control the fin while you're flying. Do you think you could—"

Grrrrrrr!

I took a step back in shock. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Toothless seemed as surprised at the noise as I was, ears flicking back and eyes widening. He glanced at me, then turned around and curled up in a ball again, head resting against his stomach. I was pretty sure something was wrong.

Taking gentle steps closer, I slowly knelt down by his head. "Hey, it's okay." I kept my voice low and soft, trying not to spook him. He rolled away, refusing to look at me, and warbled with forced optimism. "I've played the 'I'm fine' card too often not to recognise it," I told him, and he huffed in exasperation.

"Come on, let me help you."

Flicking his ears back, he only curled up tighter. I cast my mind back—he'd been absolutely fine when I arrived—something I'd done had to be the problem.

"Was it the crash? I'm sorry for surprising you with the fin like that, I should have asked your permission—" I broke myself off, laughing bitterly. "Thor, I manage to screw everything up. Can't even fall off without hurting somebody else."

Toothless warbled hesitantly, dropping his tail into my lap. Automatically, I pulled the fin off and set it aside to dry. "I'll keep working on this, but don't hold out too much hope. I'm pretty useless."

Rolling his eyes—rolling his eyes—Toothless slapped me across the face. I instinctively raised my hand to my stinging cheek, shrinking away, and waited for the next blow with my eyes closed. "Can't you at least tell me what I did wrong before you start punishing me?!"

A second later, I felt scales under my hand. Opening my eyes, I blinked in surprise when Toothless stood and rubbed his snout under my hand, purring quietly but still sounding distressed. I wished I knew what he was trying to say. It was so confusing trying to work it out from his gestures. If only I could see his fire… I closed my eyes hard and tried to summon the white fog. No use.

"Ugh!" I cried, slumping my shoulders and gazing up at the sky in frustration. The sun was too bright, so I had to look away, my eyes watering.

Suddenly an overwhelming urge to vomit came over me from nowhere, nausea uncomfortable at the back of my throat and my stomach twisting into knots, along with anger at the talented thing in front of me that didn't see the glaringly obvious—

"Whoa!" I snatched my hand back and the deluge of foreign sensations ceased. Crooning in confusion, Toothless shrunk back a little. "Did you—? Nevermind." The fact that someone thought I was talented—talented, me!—could be pushed aside for a moment. "Tell me what the problem is," I murmured quietly, sitting down and pulling Toothless' head with me. His head was surprisingly heavy when I pulled him onto my lap, sure that I must be a better pillow than the ground. He barely protested, lying down and closing his eyes.

Grrrrr!

Because I was closer, I could tell that the noise came from his obviously upset stomach, and my eyebrows drew together in sympathy. "Too much food, too fast, huh." Gothi told us once—through Gobber, obviously—that after a period of no food we should ease into eating again, even if our instincts told us to gorge ourselves silly. As usual, I hadn't thought before I acted, bringing him so much fish. Stupid Hiccup!

He grumbled, and I blinked, wondering what on Midgard to do next. As usual, I didn't have any knowledge to draw on, except for my own pitiful experiences. One of my favourite memories came to mind, from when I was about seven.

I wasn't sure what was happening, I just knew I didn't want to get out of bed. The world was so cold and my head ached so badly, but I had work at the forge and I'd started last week so I couldn't abandon it now. I shivered out from under the blankets, and haphazardly pulled on my too-long tunic. The stairs had never seemed so steep, but I gallantly started to make my way down them. Dad was sitting at the table, spooning porridge into his mouth and somehow keeping his massive beard clean.

"Morning, son," he said, not looking up from his food. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a small squeak. My legs felt like they were about to fall asleep again, and I clung to the wall for support. Dad looked up, and his expression changed from complacent to worried in a split second.

"Hiccup, go back to bed," he said firmly.

I shook my small head stubbornly. "The forge…" This time the words were scratchy but comprehensible.

"—can do without you for one day," he finished, standing up and gathering me into his large arms. He was warm and smelled like home, and I squirmed closer to his chest, shivering.

I didn't remember much after that, except the incredible feeling of safety and love I'd felt when Dad carried me back upstairs and stayed by my bed most of the day. It was a memory that kept me going when I'd just had one of his skimped-on-the-meat-in-his-sandwich scowls, or when he brushed me off again to deal with more important matters.

Well, the least I could do was stay with Toothless.

A bird fluttered past overhead, and when I looked down I noticed he'd fallen asleep. It made sense—he was a Night Fury, probably nocturnal, but I couldn't help the disappointment filling my chest.

oOoOo

My legs quickly fell asleep, pinned under the big black head, but I didn't dare move them. The wind blew through my wet clothes and I shivered, even with Toothless' head driving a lot of the chill away. He was warm to the touch, and I ended up hunched over him to soak up more heat.

Finally, he started to stir, ears twitching for about a minute before he opened his eyes. A sharp bark of surprise made me wince, the sound loud and explosive after hours of silence. He warbled hesitantly, head tilting questioningly.

"Well, no one else wants me." I honestly had no idea if he even understood Norse, but it was nice to talk. Lowering his eyes, he nuzzled my hand almost comfortingly. "Except for Gobber, but he's probably busy at the forge right now. And if he saw me, he'd encourage me to go out and take part in his 'training exercise'." I chuckled quietly, the sound forced even to my own ears. "I wonder who found my scrap of material. Probably Astrid, she's the smartest, and the strongest, and the prettiest, and—just the best at everything, really. Snotlout, my cousin, is completely smitten with her. The guy won't leave her alone…"

I kept talking, rambling about random stuff and skipping from topic to topic. Maybe it was the fact that Toothless couldn't speak. Maybe it was because I didn't really believe he could understand me. Maybe it was because he treated me so differently from everyone else. Whatever the reason, I found myself talking about things I didn't know I'd known, focusing on the few happy moments I had. My problems still felt too personal to tell even the trees and Toothless.

He listened patiently, crooning or warbling every so often, and by the time I had to leave, I felt slightly lighter, like when I cut my hair. The weight would gradually build up on my head, heavier and heavier, and I'd only noticed it when it was gone.

But as I pulled further away from the cove and drew closer to the village, a dense weight settled in my stomach again, dragging me down. It only intensified when I saw the twins prowling around the edge, and Snotlout pacing back and forth in front of the Great Hall. Obviously they hadn't found my scrap of material yet, and I wouldn't be getting any food easily that night.

I shrugged and skirted the village to get to the chief's house, since I could wait until tomorrow. Diagrams and schematics filled my head as I lay in bed—Toothless needed a way to control the fin in the air. My ideas ranged from very simple—rope to his foreleg—to something that was way too complicated—a system of gears and pulleys that would let the mechanical fin mimic the real one—but one by one I discarded my ideas. I got the feeling that anything Toothless knew about flying was instinctive, not conscious thinking. He needed a way to manipulate a fake tail fin without it restricting his other movements—obviously using his mouth was out of the question, and his paws weren't much different.

Around midnight, I came to the conclusion that I would have to control the fin somehow, but that would mean I'd have to ride him…

I needed a—a—

I was too tired to think anymore.

AN: Since I missed last week, I'm leaving the possibility of a second chapter this weekend open. It really depends on what feedback I get.

~JustAnotherRandomPoster