Chapter 12

Test Drive

"He has this… way with the beasts!" Gobber had said of Hiccup's miraculous talent for handling monsters in the arena. Unbeknownst to him, or anyone else on Berk for that matter, Hiccup was exercising that miraculous talent at that very moment, in a way that surpassed anything he'd ever pulled off in training.

Hiccup inhaled deeply through his nose as Sightless left the forest behind and soared out over the ocean. They were already flying higher than they had on any of their training flights, and already the view was spectacular. The ocean stretched out in front of him, vaster than he'd ever imagined, the afternoon sun reflecting off the surface to make it sparkle like a dazzling blue mirror. Towering sea stacks, some with trees growing from their tops, rose column-like from the water. The faint wisps of low-altitude clouds clouded his vision, only to be blown away by a bracing wind that invigorated the spirit. The sheer enormity of it all took Hiccup's breath away, and for a moment, he forgot why he was here in the first place.

An impatient growl from Sightless brought him back to the present. He tore his eyes from the expansive seascape and reached out to pat the Gore Magala on the head. "Okay there, bud," he said with confidence. "We're gonna take this nice and slow, alright?"

"Excuse me!" a high-pitched voice shrilled over the buffeting wind. "What am I supposed to do while you're off flying?"

A short distance away, the Lunastra cut majestically through the sky on cerulean wings that scarcely needed to flap. Significantly less majestic, however, was the shivering Batwings, who clung to the Lunastra's mane as though his life depended on it. Ironic that a dragon could be afraid of heights – although as a sea dragon, he probably wouldn't have much reason to fly this high.

"Just let the monster do the steering and follow our lead!" Hiccup called out. "She's not going to let you fall off, trust me!"

He thought he saw Batwings' mouth move, but he ignored it and focused his mind on the flight. This would be the real test: not just of how well the equipment held up, but of Hiccup's ability to work as one with Sightless. Most flying monsters had two wings that they could control by themselves, but in Sightless' case, the only way to do it was for Hiccup to assume responsibility for half the work. They had to be in complete sync.

"Alright… it's go time," he muttered. He clicked the stirrup with a flex of his foot, although not before checking his handy "cheat sheet" for reference on the correct stirrup position.

The splint responded by retracting the hinge and folding Sightless' wing back. The Gore Magala growled in satisfaction and bent his other wing to match, allowing gravity to pull him and his rider into a steep dive toward the sea. Just as they reached the surface, Hiccup changed the splint's position again, and Sightless pulled out of his dive inches above the water. A spray flew up as he skimmed the surface with wingtips trailing through the water, Hiccup squinting through the salty droplets as they went. Shouts from behind him indicated that the Lunastra was keeping close to him and Sightless.

Hiccup tugged on the saddle, pulling Sightless up to a reasonable height above the waves. Up ahead, a colossal stone archway jutted out from a cliff, where ocean waves had carved a gaping hole in the Berkian landmass over the eons. The shadow of the arch passed over them as Sightless cruised through, and Hiccup tilted his head toward the arch's ceiling with some measure of worry. Seabirds flocked near the top of the arch, shrieking, and Sightless cruised through the spacious gap unimpeded, rendering Hiccup's concern for naught.

"Yes, it worked!" he exclaimed, glancing over at the splint and marveling at how well it was working so far. He gave the stirrup another go and watched Sightless' wing be pulled open, carrying them further upwards. A glance backward revealed Batwings and the Lunastra close on their tail. As they, too, passed under the archway, Hiccup saw Batwings sit up straighter on the monster's back, as though forgetting his nerves and embracing the wild sea breeze.

Hiccup turned back to the front, and immediately, his eyes bulged in horror – a sea stack was looming directly in Sightless' path! Cursing himself for getting distracted, Hiccup pulled on the saddle with all his might, but all he could do was slow Sightless down before they smacked into the rock face.

"Sorry!" Hiccup called, keeping himself steady as Sightless lurched awkwardly away from the sea stack. Hiccup pulled on the saddle, steering the Gore Magala in a different direction – but just as Sightless' flight started to smoothen, Hiccup saw a second sea stack coming up and hastened to correct their course.

Thud! He was too late, and Sightless fluttered dazedly away from that rock as well. As soon as he'd recovered, the Gore Magala flexed his body in an intentional bucking motion, jostling Hiccup enough to make him bounce in the saddle.

"That was my bad!" Hiccup apologized, bending to double-check his cheat sheet. Before he could adjust the stirrup, though, the sound of mocking laughter came to him on the wind, and the Lunastra swooped near to bring a grinning Batwings into view.

"You really are taking that monster on a crash course in flying, aren't you?" the Siren teased.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," Hiccup grumbled. "Position three… uh, four."

Sightless angled himself upwards, beating his wings in powerful strokes that sent him spiraling higher. Harder and harder he flapped, carrying himself further toward Valhalla with every pump of his muscles. Hiccup gripped the saddle like he never had before, barely able to see with the wind stinging his eyes. The higher Sightless went, the more exhilarated Hiccup became. Batwings, the Lunastra, Berk – all were forgotten. It was freezing, but he didn't feel the cold. The wind tugged at his billowing clothes, threatening to steal them, but he didn't notice. If he loosened his grip even a little, gravity would take hold and pull him down to his death, but he didn't care. All he felt was the incredible rush inside, the drive to keep climbing.

He wanted to go higher. He wanted this to never stop. He wanted to be free.

"YES! GO, BUD!" Hiccup cried, laughing a joyous, free-spirited laugh. "Oh, this is amazing! The wind in my…!"

A piece of parchment came loose, seized instantly by the greedy wind. Hiccup's euphoric high died, panic rushing to fill the void.

"Cheat sheet!" he yelped, stretching out to grab for it.

In that single second, four things happened.

Sightless leveled out.

Hiccup's momentum carried him off the saddle.

Sightless' wing folded shut.

They began to fall.

What had been pure ecstasy moments ago was now all-consuming horror. The sky refused to accept Hiccup as it had Sightless and the Lunastra, and he plummeted toward the unforgiving landmass far below with his arms and legs spread-eagled, useless. The wind was immediate and merciless. It pulled at his limbs until they felt close to being torn off, took away his stomach and left behind a yawning void in his gut, and although he was screaming with all his might, he was deaf against the white noise filling his ears.

Sightless plummeted past him, and for a moment, Hiccup almost forgot his own terror. The Gore Magala was writhing and flailing with all six of his limbs, normally a creature of the sky but as flightless as a stone without the use of both wings. His jaws were wide open, and Hiccup imagined him screaming for help, a stream of noise that would never be heard over the wind yanking his voice out of his throat.

Hiccup screamed Sightless' name to no avail, and fought against the wind to grab at the Gore Magala. A wing, a leg, anything he could use to pull himself back into the saddle. But it was no use – Sightless was already leaving him behind, growing more and more distant before Hiccup's desperate eyes. Soon he would vanish entirely, dead long before Hiccup met his own demise.

No! Hiccup yelled, or thought he did. Gotta – reach – Sightless – or we both –

Powerful talons grabbed him roughly, threatening to crush his ribs even as he felt his fall accelerate. Briefly sheltered from the wind, he heard wings beating on either side of him and a distant voice shouting, and – though not by much – the panic lessened. He realized that Batwings and the Lunastra were there, propelling him downwards, further towards certain doom.

No, not doom… Sightless was getting closer! He was catching up! He struggled anew, stretching his arms as far as they would go, ready to –

He was shoved roughly out of the Lunastra's grip, taking on a final speed burst that crashed him right up against Sightless. His head exploded with pain, but his hands closed on the saddle in the split second he had before the out-of-control Gore Magala flung him off. He summoned all his strength, letting out a Viking battle cry that the wind snatched immediately, and felt his foot slide back into the stirrup.

Two more things happened.

Sightless, feeling Hiccup on his back once again, managed to regain control and pointed his nose downward, turning his freefall into a power dive.

Hiccup pushed on the stirrup as hard as he could, pulling the splint open to its fullest extent.

When the Gore Magala's wings flared open, they decelerated so fast that it was like hitting a stone wall. Hiccup slammed into Sightless' back again, prompting another burst of pain and almost slipping out of the saddle. However, he held fast, every muscle in his body drawn as tight as a nocked arrow and fed by veins almost bursting with adrenalin. Shaking his head to banish the dizziness, he focused and looked ahead, trying to get his bearings. Sightless was skimming the treetops of the Berk forest, rapidly bearing down on a mist-shrouded coastline. A treacherous maze of sea stacks was dead ahead, and even with Sightless' speed decreasing with every second, any impact with those rocks would still crush them into paste.

Horrified, Hiccup glanced at his clenched fist. His "cheat sheet" was crumpled beyond legibility, his careful sketches worthless. Sightless shrieked. Cool mist whipped past his face. Solid rock rushed to meet him.

Just then, Hiccup's mind shut off.

The stirrup clicked on its own.

Whooooooooosh!

It was as though Sightless had never been injured. He swooped, swerved, dipped, and dodged through the sea stack maze with skill never seen before. Sea stack after sea stack whipped by in a flash, the entire gauntlet passing by in a blur. And all the while, Hiccup's brain was silent: he thought nothing, questioned nothing, decided nothing. He heard, distantly, the sound of the stirrup clicking, and watched as Sightless changed directions on a dime. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left.

When the mist faded and the sun cast its tickling rays on Hiccup's face, it was like waking up from a dream. He looked down at the stirrup, incredulous, as awareness returned to him. Had he done all that? Was it him that had given lift to Sightless' wings?

A pure, joyous laugh filled the sky. The Lunastra flew by, Batwings waving and whooping from atop her back. Bit by bit, Hiccup's shock gave way to exuberance, until it became so great that he flung his arms up in a proclamation of victory.

"YEEEEAAAAAHHHH!" Hiccup Haddock, Monster Rider, cheered to the heavens.

Sightless and the Lunastra spewed forth black mist and orange flame in celebration, which exploded against a lone sea stack in their path.

Hiccup's cheer died just as the flames surrounded him.

Secluded Beach

To recuperate after their exhilarating first flight, Hiccup and Batwings chose to land their monsters on a rocky cliff close to Secluded Beach, an area of Berk where they needn't fear discovery. While Batwings disembarked from the Lunastra, exhausted and relieved to be back on terra firma, Hiccup and Sightless made a quick trip back to the grotto to grab the basket of fish that had lain abandoned after their unexpected meeting with Batwings. The four of them had a peaceful picnic there whilst enjoying a view of the ocean, which reflected the sky's radiant red glow and magnified it, turning the endless blue into a mirror of fire.

Hiccup, for the most part, spent the unusual dinner enjoying his food in silence, trying to ignore the way his skin still tingled after flying through that fireball. He stared out over the sea, watching the sun on its gradual arc toward the horizon, letting himself forget the wealth of problems that awaited him back at the village. For the moment, it was him and Sightless, against whom he was glad to lean for a much-welcome rest.

As if sensing Hiccup's thoughts about him, the Gore Magala broke Hiccup's internal reflection with a familiar retch. A slimy fish head was deposited at his feet, prompting him to turn his own head toward Sightless. The monster was 'looking' at him, muzzle tilted in inquiry. The unspoken question rang loud and clear to Hiccup.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm good," he rejected the offered morsel, with a wave of the charred stick that bore the half-eaten remains of his own meal. He knew Sightless meant well, but if he never ate raw fish again it would be too soon.

Nearby, Batwings motioned for Hiccup to pass the fish head over to him, which he did with a snort of laughter. Unlike him and Sightless, the Siren sat apart from his monster mount. Hiccup decided he shouldn't be too disappointed – while he'd gotten used to the idea of taming monsters over several days, Batwings had had it dropped on him all at once. Hiccup really owed him for agreeing to keep his secret safe.

"Mm-mmm. Good stuff," Batwings commented, licking his lips with relish. "I didn't realize how hungry I was after everything that happened today. I think I've gotten used to the fact that this is my new reality, though."

He flashed Hiccup a grin before settling on a more considering expression. "But seriously… what are you going to do now?"

The feeling of content that had settled upon Hiccup after filling his belly and reclining against Sightless faded, replaced by apprehension. He still had to find a way to break the news to the village, a task that made him anxious at the mere thought. Befriending Sightless and fixing his wing were child's play compared to what Hiccup had to do next. Ending the war… that was huge.

But… Hiccup looked around the cliff, taking in the sight of those around him. Batwings was staring at him, expectant but relaxed. The Lunastra was on her feet, giving her body a long stretch, like a sleepy cat. At his back, he could feel Sightless' huge flank moving in rhythm with his steady breaths. Monsters and people, mingling peacefully with one another.

The scene gave Hiccup a hopeful reminder. This was what he wanted to fight for. If he succeeded, this would be the norm – true peace on Berk for the first time in centuries.

The Lunastra finished her stretch and wandered over to Sightless, eyeing the fish pile in front of him. Even as the Gore Magala raised his head in alarm, she pounced at the fish and snatched one for herself. Sightless screamed in outrage and wrapped his front legs possessively around the fish, but the Lunastra seemed to take his annoyance as a challenge. She hopped out of the way of a retaliatory claw swipe and lunged again at the pile, grabbing another fish in her fangs. Sightless' jaws were faster, though, and pulled the fish out of the Lunastra's grasp. He swallowed it and emitted a low, warbling chuckle, teasing her for her misfortunes.

Annoyed, the Lunastra took up a fighting stance, her feet planted apart while her mane sizzled with heat. She took a deep breath, embers starting to flicker between her fangs. As Hiccup began to stand up with the thought of fleeing if things got ugly, Sightless exhaled a burst of black mist that caught the Lunastra on the chin. Stung by the small explosion, her jaw snapped shut right when she would have exhaled her flames. There was a muffled boom and the Lunastra staggered, smoke pouring from her nose and mouth.

"Not so fireproof on the inside, are you?" Hiccup remarked. In sympathy, he tossed his fish so that it landed at the Lunastra's paws. "There you go, have mine."

The leonine elder dragon responded to the splat of fish flesh on rock, diving upon it and swallowing it with a sharp upward twist of her neck. She gulped it down with a satisfied smack before approaching Hiccup without caution, bending down to nuzzle him with her magnificent azure mane. Surprised at the affectionate display, he reached out to stroke her mane with one hand, while the other patted her headdress-like crown.

"Everything we know about you guys," Hiccup murmured, "is wrong."

From the corner of his eye, he caught movement from Batwings, and turned around in time to see a look of alarm crossing the shapeshifting dragon's face. The movement had been from his wings, which were twitching in the way Hiccup knew to associate with distress.

"What is it?" he asked, not sure he wanted to hear why Batwings was so disturbed by the idyllic scene.

Batwings' face as he regarded Hiccup was grim. "I just recalled something I've been meaning to tell you. I think we should head back to your place… this could be pretty big."

Haddock Residence, Evening

When Batwings finished speaking, he returned to his chair and waited for Hiccup to respond. A heavy silence filled the dark room in the sudden absence of speech, the only source of comfort coming from the smoldering coals in the fireplace. The low orange light allowed Batwings to see the range of expressions Hiccup's face shifted through as he contemplated the information. It was clear that the Haddock boy had never considered the true meaning behind the monster raids until now.

As Batwings had reasoned to Gobber a few days previously, it wasn't natural for a wide range of unrelated monster species to band together for a common goal. The fact that they were all coming from the same fog-enshrouded lair to the northwest only heightened his suspicions. Monsters that, normally, thrived in different habitats and depended on different food sources would not behave this way. No, something else was behind the attacks, and Hiccup was beginning to realize it.

"You…" he spoke now, his voice rough with fear. "You think something is… controlling them? Forcing them to raid us?"

"I couldn't say," Batwings answered, his skin crawling at the mere thought. He shivered, adding, "I'm only passing along my suspicions. In terms of facts, I only know as much as you."

"In other words, nothing," Hiccup stated, tapping his fingers on his knee. His mouth hardened into a thin line and his gaze grew distant, indicating that there was something on his mind.

"What is it?" Batwings pried.

"I'm wondering if we should talk to Dad about this," he said. Before Batwings could express his support for the idea, though, Hiccup shook his head in dismissal of his own suggestion. "No, it sounds like too much of a stretch for him. As superstitious as most Vikings are, he'd want solid proof of this before taking action."

"Solid proof of what, lad?"

Batwings almost jumped out of his skin when a gruff voice came from the open door. Stoick the Vast shoved his way through the entrance, just as… well, vast as the Siren remembered. Once inside, the Chief rose to his full, impressive height and stared at him and Hiccup with that stern glare that never seemed to leave his face.

"D-Dad!" Hiccup yelped, shooting to his feet in alarm. "Uh, w-welcome back! W-We were just, um…"

Stoick ignored him, instead stomping right up to Batwings. The Siren gulped and flexed his wings when he saw the hairy mountain of a man looming over him. After the longest second of his life, Stoick's eyebrows unknotted the tiniest bit, and his moustache lifted in a small smile.

"I've heard good things about your work with the fishermen, dragon," he claimed. "You've done a good job holding up your end of the deal."

Not expecting praise, Batwings straightened his back and wet his lips before speaking. "Th-Thank you, sir. It's the least I could do after you entrusted me with a place in your village."

The Chief gave him a satisfied nod, only to turn on Hiccup with the metaphorical thundercloud forming again over his head. The atmosphere within the otherwise homely room turned foreboding, and Batwings developed an abrupt urge to fetch a drink. As furtively as possible, he scampered to the far side of the house toward the water barrels.

Unfortunately, the house wasn't quite large enough to let him get out of earshot, and he couldn't help but hear Stoick's low, threatening rumble of a voice bear down on his quailing son like Thor's thunder.

"You've been keeping secrets, Hiccup," he growled.

"I-I-I-I… I have?" the nervous answer came.

"Just how long did you think you could hide them from me?"

Batwings stopped with his hand stretched halfway toward an available mug. All of a sudden his mouth felt dry, but he didn't dare move.

A deliberate, tentative voice broke the tense silence. "I… don't know wh-what you're…"

"Nothing happens on this island without me hearing about it," Stoick enunciated. "Now… let's talk about that monster."

The open door was starting to look more and more appealing from where Batwings stood. Could he cross the room and make it out before Stoick decided to grab him and arrest him for treason?

"O-Oh gods, Dad…" Hiccup moaned, and slumped in his chair with his hands buried in his hair. Batwings glanced at him in alarm – was he confessing? "D-Dad, I'm so sorry. I, I was going to tell you, but I –"

He cut himself off promptly, and Batwings didn't blame him. The human boy and humanoid dragon regarded Stoick with wide-eyed shock – the Chief had thrown his head back and was now engaged in a full-blown belly laugh, as if he found Hiccup's "secret" the funniest joke in the world.

"You… You're not… upset?" Hiccup asked, speaking Batwings' thoughts aloud.

"WHAT?" Stoick exclaimed, halting his jolly gales. "I was hoping for this!"

On impulse, Batwings and Hiccup exchanged a flabbergasted glance, neither of them fathoming this sudden twist. No way would Stoick praise his son for taming the most dangerous monster known to Viking-kind. There had to be some misunderstanding…

"You were…?" Hiccup asked.

"And believe me, it only gets better!" Stoick enthused. He slapped Hiccup on the shoulder, hard enough to send him tumbling to the floor. "Just wait until you spill a Yian Garuga's guts for the first time! And mounting your first Gravios head on a spear… what a feeling!"

A deep, nauseous feeling settled in Batwings' stomach like a chunk of iron ore. Stoick hadn't heard about Sightless; all he cared about was Hiccup's success in monster training class. In a way, Batwings supposed that should be a good thing – after all, Hiccup's secret was still safe for now – but it did nothing to relieve him of pit of despair in his gut.

Judging by Hiccup's stricken expression, the Haddock boy didn't consider this new development reassuring, either.

"You really had me going there, son! All those years of the worst Viking Berk has ever seen!" Stoick continued to guffaw, oblivious. "Odin, it was rough, and I almost gave up on you – but all the while, you were holding out on me! Oh, Thor almighty!

"With you doing so well in the ring," he went on, quiet yet still ecstatic, "we finally have something to talk about."

What followed, though, was nothing more than the thickest, most deeply uncomfortable silence Batwings had ever witnessed. It was a silence so loud that it deafened him. A silence so incomprehensibly awkward that he could feel it tingling on his skin. A silence that existed because Hiccup had nothing that his father wanted to hear.

Batwings had thought he knew what awkward father-son moments were like. His dad had thrown him out of the nest as soon as he could fly. But, truth be told, he couldn't even fathom what kind of misery Hiccup might be wallowing in right now.

Stoick's excited grin faded from his face as the silence stretched on. He sat up, let out an uncomfortable cough, and reached into the folds of his cloak to bring out a small, rounded object. The helmet had a pair of gently curved horns attached to it, and, when Stoick presented it to Hiccup, it was clear it had been shaped specifically to fit the Haddock boy's head.

"I… brought you something," the Chief murmured. "To keep you safe in the ring."

Lifting his drink to his lips, Batwings watched the miserable look in Hiccup's eyes melt away into awe, like yak butter exposed to the dawning sun. He accepted the helmet with an air of reverence – probably not used to receiving gifts of such importance.

"Wow. Thanks," the Chief's son breathed.

"Aye, your mother would've wanted you to have it," Stoick said. "It's half of her breastplate."

Batwings just managed to stop himself from spewing water all over the floor.

"Matching set," Stoick then explained to an extremely embarrassed Hiccup, tapping his own helmet with a fist. "Keeps her… close, you know?"

The Chief's tone was soft and vulnerable as he recounted the memory of a family member that had likely died years ago. Batwings supposed it would have been a touching moment, if Hiccup wasn't putting the helmet down with stiff arms and bugging eyes, and he himself wasn't fighting with his own mouth to keep from laughing.

"Wear it proudly," Stoick instructed solemnly. "You've held up your end of the deal as well."

Except… not really, Batwings thought with a wince, his silent gales dying in his throat.

Obviously, Hiccup was thinking along that same line, because he gave an exaggerated yawn and backed up toward the stairs. "I should really, you know, get to bed…"

"Uh, yes, alright. Good talk," Stoick answered, standing up with an awkward cough.

"Thanks for stopping by," Hiccup added, "and for the, um… breast hat." He coughed out the last two words with no shortage of discomfort.

"Yes, I'm glad you liked the helmet," his father replied. He paused to collect himself, then gave a formal two-fingered salute. "Well… good night."

Once Stoick had disappeared through another door built into the wall near the fireplace, shutting it behind him, Hiccup released a drawn-out sigh and gave Batwings a dismal look. Batwings couldn't blame him. His father was proud of him for something he hadn't really done, and the idea of coming clean to Berk seemed all the more like a disaster in the making. That man, who had spoken with such glee at the prospect of his son learning to kill monsters, was not going to take the truth well.

It was late, though, and it would be a waste to try to drum up a miracle solution a few minutes before bed. Rather, what they really needed was an icebreaker.

"So, how about that breast hat?" Batwings grinned, descending into hysterical cackles when Hiccup's complexion reddened like a ripe apple.

The talk between Hiccup and Stoick is, in my opinion, a very underrated scene. It reminds me of Zuko talking to Mai after the war meeting in Season 3 of AtLA. Like Zuko, Hiccup has everything he thought he wanted, only now he realizes those things aren't quite as important as he believed them to be.

Speaking of the talk… I don't think we ever see where Stoick sleeps, so I added a sort of side room to serve as a bedchamber for him. Doesn't seem fair that Hiccup gets the entire second floor to himself while the actual Chief settles for a chair or something.

Next chapter – another enormously popular flight scene! Till then, and please review!