CHAPTER 27
Voices. That was the first thing he heard. Calling for him, calling for him to come home. Toothless couldn't move, he could only listen to them crying out.
Something was being pulled away from him. His heart. They were taking his heart. No! He tried to move, to say something, do anything.
He could hear his heartbeat growing fainter and fainter.
"You have done well, brother."
That voice…Nira. She was here? Toothless strained to hear her, but she didn't speak again. He wanted to hear her, to see her.
His heart! Where was his heart? He couldn't feel it, he couldn't—
Someone put a hand on his forehead, and he whined in pain. They moved away quickly.
"He's alive. They're both alive!"
A wave of senses crashed into Toothless. He opened his bleary eyes, trying to focus on the bulky mass in front of him. Stoick the Vast was kneeling in front of him. In his arms lay the limp form of Hiccup.
Toothless tried to lift his head, but the task was much for him. Was he…no, please, no.
Stoick put his hand on his head again. His face was streaked with tears. "Thank you for saving my son."
The tension coiled in the pit of his stomach vanished and he lay his head on the stones, exhausted. Hiccup was alive. He'd saved him. They'd done it. Toothless let out a soft warble, the only thing he could muster. His body ached. Even scales were only fireproof to an extent.
A few Vikings helped him limp back onto one of the boats. He couldn't shift; he was too tired, too battered. The amulet hummed softly in the back of his mind, reassuring him that it was still there. Stoick lay Hiccup next to him and let Gobber take charge of the ships.
Toothless didn't remember much of the trip back. All he could focus on was the rise and fall of Hiccup's chest, the ragged hitching whenever the ship went over a rough wave. Someone had wrapped his mangled leg. It would have to be amputated, but Toothless tried not to think about it.
He remembered Astrid sitting next to him, a cloth and needle in hand and the tiny pricks of pain as she tended to his tailfin. It was still there, thank the gods. Astrid worked with a quick and skilled hand, but one look was all he needed to know that the jagged wound would scar. There would be a criss-cross of pale membrane for the rest of his life to remind him how close he'd come to losing his flight twice.
Berk loomed in the distance. They disembarked and he followed Stoick, who was carrying his son. There was no way he was letting him out of his sight again. Astrid followed him, but he ignored her. No one stopped him when he entered the chief's house. He collapsed in the corner, his trembling legs no longer able to take his weight.
He must have fallen asleep because his wounds were tended to when he woke up. Astrid sat next to him, face pale, but no longer smeared with ash.
Hiccup's bed had been moved to the first level. Toothless heaved himself to his feet and shuffled closer. Hiccup was tucked in, unmoving.
The scent of his blood hung heavy in the air. They must have amputated his foot.
Toothless averted his gaze and shuffled to the end of the bed and made himself comfortable on the floor where he could see his brother.
Astrid spoke up at last. "You slept for a few hours. We didn't want to wake you. He hasn't moved. Stoick's talking to the council. I think he's going to leave you alone. You saved the Pride of Berk, after all." There was no malice in her voice. She just sounded tired.
Toothless bowed his head in acknowledgement. Silence fell and he put his head in his paws. And waited.