Everything changed so much, so quickly—and Hiccup had been unconscious for most of it. The last he could remember, the Red Death's colossal tail loomed out at him from spreading flames; he and Toothless barreled toward it, unable to stop. The next thing he knew, he was waking up to a Berk that embraced dragons and him: an unfamiliar and confusing world.

What was to become of them—an entire village of Vikings, who spoke with their weapons and thought with their fists? What was to become of Hiccup—suddenly thrust into the public eye in a positive light; and missing a substantial part of himself, making daily living an arduous task of relearning how to do basic things? There was no book, no manual for this.

But one hand in particular reached out to him. With slender fingers and a tight grip, Astrid had told him to come along. Everything was different, and he had concerns and questions; but her smile reassured him he did not need all the answers right now—they would come. He would figure things out, they would figure things out, and they would bring Berk with them.

In the meantime, there need only be exhilarating flights and stolen glances. Hiccup could survive and mend on Astrid's laugh and friendly embraces. He had wanted nothing else for so long, and there she was, by his side to help build the future—his future, that he had envisioned for his people. The how and the why were still a mystery to be solved; but they believed, in dragons, in them.

So, Hiccup and Toothless soared through the clouds, chasing blonde hair and blue scales. It was all so new, and Hiccup was afraid to blink lest it be gone again. He was alight with a real purpose and drive. Nothing was ahead of him except opportunities, and they were within reach for the first time.

He and Astrid landed their dragons on a sea stack. The waves rolled beneath them, and the skies were bright and clear above. Adrenaline still raced through their veins as they dismounted. Hiccup struggled and swore, his leg giving him difficulty—but Astrid was right there. She had a hold of him, he had a hold of her. They were both windswept and breathless, sharing a smile that was as comfortable as their close proximity.

Because this was everything—the fire that raged in both of them—and they were getting used to it.