"It was better to know the worst than to wonder." – Margaret Mitchell - Gone with the Wind

On The Edge Of Tomorrow

Astrid looked over the vista spread out beneath her. The trees had started turning several weeks ago, and most of the Ashes and Oaks were now bare in their crowns. There was more of a chill in the air now, and the clouds had taken on a dark hue to their undersides. It was autumn.

It always amazed her how Stormfly could manage to find the updrafts and currents that spiraled around the mountains on Berk. That let the dragon remain aloft for upwards of an hour with minimal effort. She lowered a hand to Stormfly's neck and gave the dragon a soft rub for which Stormfly purred in happiness.

The wind rushing past fanned her hair out behind her. She closed her eyes for a few minutes and relished the flow of the air over her and the whistle of the wind.

It is so peaceful up here.

Flying was definitely her favorite thing to do now, except for perhaps the time she still devoted to training as a shieldmaiden in the woods. She did not want to scare any of the dragons with the axes, swords, and yelling. Not that she was specifically training to fight against dragons anymore. No, it was simply her doing her best to keep her skills sharp.

Being up here among the clouds though made her feel… free. Like she was above all the bickering and stupidity in the village beneath her.

She sighed and tried to keep her frustrations from ruining this flight with her dragon.

It was not easy being a leader in the village. Just a few months ago, she had hoped to become important by being a prominent dragon killer. Now, she was the leader of the training Academy where people who wanted to learn were taught how to peacefully interact with dragons. She got to show them how to approach a new dragon; slowly and with clearly empty hands. The exception would be to do so with a fish. Yelling at the dragons never seemed to help since they would either completely ignore the one doing the yelling or would roar back far louder than any human could possibly hope to match.

Some Nords had a nasty habit of kicking farmyard animals out of frustration. She had made it very clear that such behavior was a certain way to get a dragon to attack them. Not that she thought that the people who actually came to the training sessions really needed to be told that since they seemed to be the more reasonable members of the village.

It was a satisfying way for her to contribute to the tribe. She got to show them that the creatures they had always been told were demons sent to plague the world were actually creatures just like any other. Treat them nicely and they will naturally do the same back. Some of them even seemed clever and capable of something like affection toward people.

On the other hand, hers was not seen as an honorable position in the community. Sure, Stoick, Gobber, Gothi, the rest of the teens, a good number of children, and a few of the adults seemed to approve of what she was doing. That she enjoyed the support of the Elder and the Chief meant that no one openly opposed her. The feeding stations remained filled, and the dragons that lived in the village were not harassed as far as she knew. Still, none of this stopped the rest of the village from shunning her in the Hall, refusing to deal with her family, giving her snide looks, and forbidding their children from attending the Academy or interacting with dragons.

Even aside from the villagers, the dragons themselves were not always the most cooperative creatures. They had initially wandered wherever they liked on the island, perched wherever they wanted, broke into the supply stores, and relieved themselves in public. She was normally the one who was called on to clean up the messes.

Through a combination of rewarding their dragons with fish for good behavior and frequent piling of the waste in the same place outside the village, they managed to train their own dragons to not cause problems. Of course, the occasional wild dragon that appeared near the village knew nothing about how to behave, and annoyed villagers always directed their complaints at her.

It was all very discouraging.

Still, there had been some good moments. Gustav had found a young Nightmare somewhere on the island and had surprised the other riders by showing them that he was already on a nose-touching basis with 'Flame' as he had so imaginatively named the dragon. A young couple, Finnbjorn and Katrina, had surprised everyone by taking in a Nadder and being far more patient and gentle with it than Astrid had thought they might be. Gothi seemed to have taken a liking to a small group of Terrors. A few others of the villagers did not have any dragons of their own but had taken to carrying around a few fish for when they met up with any guests. And so far there had been no serious incidents between the villagers and the dragons. The dragon-friendly were still in the minority though.

"What are we going to do about them?"

Stormfly angled her head slightly and squawked.

"They just need to see that you all are good to have around. Why are we so stubborn?"

Sigh.

"I thought that stubbornness was a good thing. That it was just confidence and bravery. So silly of me."

She paused for a moment as a familiar thought invaded her peace. It was the only truly depressing thought that ever troubled her up here in the sky on otherwise peaceful flights. She had once enjoyed another flight over this same island but with someone else at her side. Someone who changed her world for the better.

She lay down on her stomach and closed her eyes.

"I wish… I wish that he was still here. He would be much better at this than I am. He understood you guys much better."

She looked in the direction of the harbor.

"Why did you have to die?" she whispered.

She was not the only one who had been changed that day. Both Stoick and Gobber had become far more distant in the last couple months. Stoick had left after the party to celebrate the death of the Monster on Dragon Island and had disappeared into his house. For that first month, he rarely came out except when he had to act in formal capacity as the Chief. Gobber spent all his free time in the forge, away from other company. She thought that it was partly that he no longer had any dragon-fighting training to do. Another reason was likely that without his apprentice all the tasks took a lot longer for him to complete given his missing limbs. Finally, she suspected that he was trying to lose himself in his work.

She could almost see it even now, Hiccup on Toothless's back, the amazing pair gliding on the wind at her side. Herself on Toothless as well, her arms around Hiccup's waist, up here where nothing could ever disturb their happiness. She shook her head of the vision and allowed her gaze to wander over the island, though it kept being brought back in the direction of a certain cove hidden deep in the woods.

"Do you think that the rest of them will ever change?"

Stormfly just continued to lazily fly on.

"Yeah, I don't know either. I hope so though. They are already a little bit better."

They flew on for another hour or so until she saw a fishing boat out at sea with its nets draped over its bow.

That was the fairest complaint that most of the villagers had regarding the dragons. They ate a lot of fish, and this meant more work on the part of the fishermen for no immediate benefit. Of course, the benefit was that the dragons were not eating the livestock or worse, but that was too easily forgotten when the fishermen were having to work longer hours.

She narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow as the beginnings of a plan began to come together.

"You guys have no trouble feeding yourselves out there."

She had seen how dragons would find what was presumably a school of fish and dive on them from above. They normally only emerged with a couple fish at a time, but it seemed that most dragons were adept swimmers and could easily swim to shore or even get aloft from the ocean. Those that were not so skilled stuck to the shallows.

"Oh Gods! That's it! Have the dragons help do the fishing. Why didn't I think of this sooner?"

It made perfect sense now that she thought about it. From above, she could direct the boats toward wherever the fish happened to be on that day. If the villagers saw the dragons contributing to the catch, then they would have fewer grounds to complain. The fishermen might even admit that they were useful to have around.

"And the best part is that the entire village will see you all helping."

Stormfly could sense her rider's excitement at something and trilled her happiness.

Astrid felt positively giddy now that her idea was clear. All she had to do now was share her plan with the captains of the fishing boats. No matter what they thought about the dragons, they would not turn down a chance to increase their catch with no additional work required. She reluctantly nudged Stormfly back toward the village. Back to the yelling and accusations. She would rather be up in the sky, but this had to be done for the good of the dragons and for Berk.

Gobber repeatedly pounded each metal rod. They had to be bent into the desired shape while still warm before being dipped in water. It was a tedious process, but it had to be done the long way. Any attempt to take short-cuts or not give the metal the full amount of time needed would leave the result bent useless or too brittle to be trusted. They could not just be reheated and bent back into the right condition without having to start the entire process over again.

So Gobber slaved on in the forge, sweat coursing down his brow as he struggled to keep the fire hot enough. It was good, honest work with a routine that he easily fell into. Idle time always resulted in his reliving that day two months ago.

He inspected the finished product with pride. This bar completed, he decided to take a break and rest his weary joints. He collapsed into a chair that he had set up in the forge for exactly this reason.

He had seen Hiccup asleep only a couple hours after he had been born. He had been among the first to give Valka, once she had woken up after giving birth, and Stoick his congratulations at being new parents. He had helped to comfort Stoick after Valka had been taken. He had seen the difficulties that Stoick had faced when trying to balance being a single father and the Chief. Especially so since Hiccup took so after his mother in not having a 'Nord-like' build or attitude. Stoick had not been able to fully accept Hiccup's being so different from the ideal son he had hoped he would have.

So he had stepped in and helped to mentor Hiccup as best as he could. He could not have children of his own, and Hiccup had been the son he never had.

He looked at his forge and groaned. The work was taking him far too long now that… he was having to do it all on his own.

I really need some help keeping the fires lit. Hmn, maybe I should get one of the beasties of my own. Put their fire to good use.

The strangeness of the idea surprised him, that a dragon could use its fire to help someone. But he had already seen strange things from the creatures. There was surely some way that he could train one of them to help him out. Or maybe get Astrid or one of the other trainers to figure it out for him.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, got back to his feet, and returned to his work.

The work was done when he turned out a couple more metal bars. Then he extinguished the fire in the forge and left for the day. But he had one more duty to fulfill in the meantime. He passed by Stoick's house to check on the egg.

There had been a period where his friend had effectively isolated himself to grieve. However, that time passed long ago. It spoke volumes of their Chief's character that Stoick still tried to meet the needs of others despite what had happened. However, that meant that Stoick had to spend a lot of time out of the house, and both of them had agreed that he should check in on the egg from time to time. Not that the egg needed as much attention as an infant would, but still someone had to make sure that it was warm at least. The evenings were also starting to get a bit cooler as the seasons changed.

He pushed the door open, walked in, and sat down in a chair near the smoldering fireplace. He gazed at the smooth, black shell wrapped up in old linens. For some reason, the sight always helped him relax and brought a smile to his face. He could distinctly remember the sight of the adult Night Fury, Toothless he had heard it had been called, diving into the arena and fighting the Nightmare to protect Hiccup. And it had been very unsettling the way that the Fury sat there silently in its chains and glared at them on the way to Dragon Island. He had seen something in its eyes on that journey. The creature had seemed aware and afraid of what was happening.

But beasts couldn't feel fear, he distinctly remembered telling himself.

He hoped that the egg would hatch. Even if for no other reason than that it would let them learn more about the rarest type of dragon. Plus, as Stoick had rightly said, Hiccup would have wanted them to take care of it. It had been a couple months already and the egg had not moved once as far as he was aware. However, no one knew how long it took for dragon eggs to hatch. They had never had a chance to learn such a thing.

Well, time for some food.

He got to his feet and gave the egg a gentle pat before leaving the house and making his way to the Hall. On the way, he saw a couple of dragons lazing about, a couple Nadders specifically. It was still a bit unsettling seeing them nearby even though the dragons in the village had been there for two months without major incident to life and limb. They were peaceable and for this he was both very grateful and willing to endure the minor inconveniences that they brought with them.

He gruffly entered the Hall and poured himself a generous portion of the chicken stew. He could not help but overhear the conversations around him.

'They broke my roof by sitting on it.' 'They eat too much fish I tell ya.' 'They scare the cows and the goats.' 'But they aren't causing much trouble now.' 'What about when the winter comes and they get hungry?'

There were other conversations besides, but he didn't have any interest in them. It was just more of the same. However, a small group of the men broke away and made their way over towards him. Leading them was Sador, one of the local fishermen.

Great, now what?

"Evening Gobber," Sador greeted him.

"Evening, can I help ye any?"

Gobber pointedly tore off a chunk of bread while saying this to show his annoyance at having his dinner interrupted.

"I had an odd talk with Astrid Hofferdottir today. She seems to think she can train the beasts to help us catch more fish."

Gobber paused in his meal, now being quite interested.

"I wouldn' put it past 'er. She and the rest of the kids seem ta have a way with the beasts."

"Still," Sador replied, "it is so strange to think that the dragons would actually help us."

"Aye, it is. Everything is much better now than it was."

"True, I don't have to worry about my boat being burned up at night…"

"And ye all should be thankful o' it. I hear a bit too much complaining about stuff that don' really matter."

"If she can train them to drive fish into our nets or find the best places to fish, then she will have convinced me that the dragons are good for something," Sador replied.

The rest of his men nodded in agreement.

At least these are a practical bunch…

Gobber finished his meal a few minutes later and excused himself from the Hall. He made his way back to his house in the evening twilight.

So Astrid thought that the dragons could contribute to the village by helping to fish. Clever lass. Stoick definitely picked the right person to lead the Academy.

He had no doubt that she would figure out how to accomplish it. She would hopefully figure it out before the weather turned for the worse. The transition from autumn to winter could be very sudden, and the village would need substantial stockpiles of supplies to feed their resident dragons. Assuming that the beasties stayed on Berk of course. No one knew where the dragons tended to go during the winter, probably to the south where it is warmer.

Speaking of warmth, his fireplace needed some wood to burn tonight. So he made a slight detour to where the chopped lumber was piled near the bluff overlooking the docks. He grabbed a couple of the blocks and glanced down at the docks. He paused when he saw Stoick standing on the shore with something too small to make out at this distance in his hands.

The Chief was seemingly staring out to sea.

How long was it proper to mourn? Stoick had nothing of his personal life left. Both his wife and only son were now dead. It was truly amazing that he was holding up as well as he was. Lesser men had gone mad from such grief and had needed to be Outcast to protect the tribe.

Still, he knew that Stoick would never be the same as he had been. The man would carry a soul-scar for the rest of his life. Time alone heals nothing. At best, one simply becomes numb to the pain, but that does not mean that the wound ever truly heals.

I'm sorry, my old friend.

Stoick was once again sure that he had made the right choice in appointing Astrid to lead Berk's training program. All of the youths from that training class seemed to interact well with dragons, but she in particular had a way with the beasts.

For a moment, he remembered Gobber telling him about someone else who supposedly 'had a way with the beasts.' That memory was quickly forced down, else the feelings that he had fought against for months would return.

Astrid made sure that the feeding stations were filled. She quickly answered any complaints that were brought up regarding the dragons. She never complained about the more unsavory tasks that she had to perform. Perhaps she did not have much patience with the most stubborn of the Vikings, but that was to be expected.

He had watched her introduce the willing members of the community to their pet dragons in the arena. There had not been any serious injuries to any of his people so far. As far as he was concerned, he saw no reason to change anything that she was doing.

Perhaps the best part of all for him was the fact that whenever someone had a complaint to make regarding dragons, he knew that he could point them in the direction of the arena or Astrid's house. Not many people of fifteen years could take the responsibility that he put on her shoulders, but she was doing admirably.

But all those musings and considerations did not matter at the moment. He had finally managed to work up the courage to go into Hiccup's room again, this time for answers.

The first time he had gone into the room had been to retrieve something that had belonged to his son. Something clearly recognizable as Hiccup's. He had grabbed the green long-sleeve shirt and gotten out as fast as possible to escape the feeling of a vice tightening in his chest. This was the second time he had mustered the bravery to open the door. He was doing this in the hope that he might find something, anything to help him understand who his son had been. Something to keep his son's memory close.

He had not known that Hiccup had been keeping a journal until he found it, a leather-bound book on top of the desk. It had several sheets of loose yellow paper folded inside its bindings. Gingerly, he had removed the papers and smoothed them out to remove the wrinkles in the fabric.

Dragons.

Finely drawn pictures of many different dragons sleeping, flying, and hunting. But one dragon in particular dominated most of the pictures. His son's dragon.

The Night Fury.

It was drawn in the greatest detail and with clear expressions on its face. It was as if Hiccup had specifically drawn it to have emotion. Some of the pictures included Hiccup as well, drawn right next to the dragon or even playing with it.

The pictures were eventually set aside, and he held the journal to his chest as he left the house and began walking aimlessly.

He was afraid to open it and yet he knew that he had to do so. Why had Hiccup chosen the dragon? Why had he not killed it instead? He had to know.

Without even planning it, he found himself down at the docks. It seemed a fitting place to do this in the remaining hour of sunlight.

He took a deep breath and flipped open the journal to the first page. It seemed that most of the first half of the journal was missing, as though that section had been torn out.

.

"I hit it! I'm sure I hit it! Of course, no one believed me. As usual. I am going to go find it tomorrow and then dad will be proud of me. I really hope it is already dead though."

.

"I'm a failure. A total failure. I just couldn't kill it. It looked scared and it looked at me! I let it go. Why did it let me go? It could have killed me."

.

"Gobber told us that dragons always go for the kill. The Night Fury didn't. It let me go after I let it go. Was it trying to be fair? I looked in the forest again and I found it. It is trapped in a cove in the forest. I'm not sure why it doesn't just fly away. It looks very hungry. Does it like fish?"

.

"I don't know why we do this training to fight dragons. Nothing we are supposed to be learning seems to help or even be learned at all. It doesn't help that I cannot fight them anyway."

.

"Wow. I never thought that a dragon would eat a fish from my hand. It was so clever, thoughtful even. It made me throw away my knife before it came near. Then it made me eat some of the same fish. Ugh. It is sleeping right now in a tree. Maybe it will let me touch it."

.

"The dragon let me touch its nose. Actually, it touched my hand with its nose. It trusted me! And it tried to draw pictures of… something. Maybe it was just imitating me, but still it is very smart."

.

"Well, now I know that Toothless is a boy. He likes to play tag. And to toss me in the water."

.

"His tail is hurt. He cannot fly on his own. I think I did this to him. He was flying fine before I shot him down. I hurt him. I'm going to fix this by making him a new tail."

.

"I just wanted to be one of them, but now how can I? I just flew with him! He wanted me to fly with him! It was very scary, but we figured it out just in time. Dragons are so amazing. I want to show dad and the rest of the village, but they would try to hurt Toothless. They think I am learning how to fight dragons, but I don't need to fight them. I don't know what to do..."

.

"I know why the dragons attack us. There is a giant monster on their island and it makes them hunt for it, or it eats them instead. Oh, it gets better. I won dragon-training earlier today. Yep, the entire village thinks I am going to kill the Nightmare and become a 'true Nord.' Become one of them. I tried to leave the island with Toothless, but Astrid found us. That is when we found out about what is on the dragon's island. I have no choice. I have to show them the truth. They need to know that the dragons are not what we think they are and we do not need to fight them. I hope my dad listens. I hope he is proud of me."

.

.

.

.

.

Stoick slammed the journal shut and closed his eyes. The evening breeze from out of the western ocean slightly ruffled his beard. He quickly sat down as he started to feel dizzy.

The shame and pain eclipsed him all over again. It was as if he were back on that island, watching everything unfold. Helpless to save his son from the doom that he himself had brought on the entire tribe.

He was thinking of us. He was trying to help us all along.

Nothing in the journal seemed to say why Hiccup didn't kill the dragon. Maybe he hadn't known himself.

Except...

Hiccup thought that the dragon trusted him. It clearly had to on some level. Was it that simple? Did Hiccup turn to the beast because he couldn't find anyone who trusted him in the village? Was talking to the beast the only way he thought that something would listen to him?

Had Hiccup felt completely alone even in the crowd of Vikings? In his own house?

He stayed there past dusk, sitting on the shore and listening to the waves lapping on the rocks. It was not hard to imagine the words that he had just read being spoken aloud by their author in his youthful and cheeky voice. The voice that he desperately missed and knew he would never hear again. That made the words written on these pages the closest thing that he had of his son.

Someone, probably Gobber or one of the youths, had retrieved the helmet that Hiccup had thrown away in the arena and had left the helmet on his doorstep after he returned to Berk. He had since hung it up in the most honorable place in the house. Directly above the fireplace. It would be a memento of both his lost wife and his lost son.

There was the dragon egg as well. It was associated with Hiccup through his dragon.

I should go check on it.

He made his way back to the house and added another log to the fireplace after checking on the egg and making sure to turn it as Gobber had told him he needed to do. It had been two months now and the egg had not shown any signs of being alive. Somehow though, he knew in his gut that it would eventually hatch. It seemed right that it would, considering its bizarre origins.

He could wait. He had no choice but to wait.

And hope that he would be able to heal with time.